#Gotham x y/n

[supernatural-bias]

𝐄𝐝𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐍𝐲𝐠𝐦𝐚 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐎𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ warnings: none

↳ song: something for your m.i.n.d— superorganism

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• Everyone's seen how he acted around Kristen before you started frequenting the GCPD

• To most of the precinct, Edward's a fidgety, overzealous guy, with a smile border lining on creepy. He's not the best at socializing, and his lack of understanding boundaries leave him with nearly zero friends

• So when you showed up with that sharp gaze of yours, at least attempting to supply him with the answer to one of his riddles, he knew he had to have you

• As a friend, of course. What else could he possibly mean by that.

• Whether you work at the precinct with him, or just happen to show up there more than considered normal, Ed can't help but hault his day just to talk to you. And he always opens with a riddle. One that he cooked up laying in his bed at night especially for you

• "My life is measured in hours and I serve you by expiring. I'm quick when I'm thin and slow when I'm fat. The wind is my enemy. What am I?" He smiles at you over the rim of his glasses, wringing his hands expectantly

• "Hey to you too, Nygma." You don't even have to look up to know that he's smiling

• "Please. Call me Ed. Do you give up?"

• "As if. Hit me with it again, would you?"

• I'm begging you. Do some kintec type puzzles with him. You will literally win his love and affection on the spot. Even if it's just a mini rubic's cube attached to a key ring; Ed is absolutely enamored with you the moment you pull it out

• It takes him a while to fully realize that he has developed sort of a thing for you. It most likely takes the help of his alter ego to flip the switch in his brain once and for all; something he doesn't appreciate. Especially considering the lack of filter he has when it comes to Ed's romance life

• After all a few months ago, the only one he had eyes for made fun of him in her spare time. Now that he has someone who genuinely wants to know about his day? It's all over for the poor guy

• If Ed ever finds out that you talk about him to other people—in a positive light, of course—he wont stop smiling for days. It gets to a point where even Jim notices and shakes his head, glad to see that forensics scientist is looking happy

• Leaves more than just verbal riddles for you to solve. That odd shaped box that you don't remember putting in your bag? That slip of paper written in a coded message? Edwards by your side the next time you show up, asking if you were able to solve it

• Lee probably knows about his crush on this mysterious figure. She can't help but notice that Edward's a little happier than he should be while digging through a dead guys sternum for a bullet

• Definitely unleashes a soft interrogation on him, only stopping once his ears are a flaming red and he cant look her in the eyes

• When she finally meets you for the first time, she can't help but smile at you knowingly while Ed sweats bullets in the background

• "So you're Nygma's friend huh? He talks about you a lot."

• "Ed?" You draw his name out and raise an eyebrow slowly, leaning to the left to peer over Lee's shoulder quizzically

• "I've suddenly recalled, uh, a uhm, experiment that I uh. Yeah. Bye."

• "Sigh. And he didn't even give me a riddle this time."

• "Oh you two really are just perfect."

• "I have no idea what your talking about."

[lem0nshark-writes]

"Riddle me this, why does my heart hurt?" Part 2

Edward Nygma x Male Reader

Type: angst to fluff

Word count: 1767

Warnings: angst, two idiots, bullying, Riddler being a little shit, brief mention of Riddler telling Ed to kill himself, did I mention both Ed and reader are idiots?

A/N: I'm so sorry this took so long guys!!! I hope it was worth your wait!! I love you so muchhh!! ❤❤

You brought takeout that break but yourself was nowhere to be found, little note on the box sitting on Ed's desk letting him know you were sorry but you got pulled to work on another case and couldn't make it.

And you didn't make it, or any other break after that, supposedly busy and always rushing somewhere.

You didn't make it to any hangouts either, always too tired, too deep into work, too busy,..

In fact, it has been weeks since you two properly interacted, and you liked it that way, it kept the tears from bubbling up and heart from hurting at least while you're at work. You knew it wasn't his fault that he didn't feel the same way but you couldn't help it, you'd figured you'd start hanging out with him once the feelings subsided, yeah.. if they ever did.

And Edward was left confused and he was missing his friend, he was missing you... hmm "friend".. that word didn't seem to quite fit, the more Ed thought about it.

It didn't seem to fit because he's pretty sure no one feels like this about their friends, no one's heart skips a beat when they lock eyes with their friend, no one feels butterflies in their stomach when their friend smiles at them, no one stays up thinking about their friend unable to sleep because they are on their mind so relentlessly, thinking what it would feel like to hold them close, to hold their hands, kiss them, to-...

Yeah that's not what friends feel like.

He tried really hard to cast those feelings away, he tried really hard. He even tried to get closer to other people to get you out of his mind. But it didn't work. Kristen couldn't quite possibly rid you from his mind, not even the slightest. I mean not that there was anything between them, but he hoped hanging out with her and getting close to her would calm his mind, though all it seemed to do was chase you away, he wondered why.. it's not like you would ever feel the same as him..

Would you?..

Today was just like all the other, you always busy and Nygma trying to catch you for at least a chat. So he decided to do something about it. Clearing his schedule for the day by getting all the work done as soon as possible, he made it his mission to follow you around to see what you were truly up to, and to hopefully maybe catch you for more than just a minute or two.

Half the day passed playing cat and mouse with you. First you had to deliver some papers - quite urgently and they couldn't wait no way, then you had to do a patrol - which Ed was sure you didn't have that week because he overheard your superior put you on headquarters duty to help with the piling paperwork but you assured him he changed his mind for today and you really had to leave, then right before your break you reaaally had to go get Jim and Harvey coffees and pastry from a bakery across the city so you couldn't spend the extra couple of minutes before your breaks chatting with him like usual, then when the break rolled in you made another excuse, that you'll have to spend it with the detectives working on some case. He was getting sick of it. Not even secretly following you around on your alleged urgent tasks helped as you managed to slip out of his field of view in a split second and then you were gone. He had to get you this time.

"Hey Ed, where is your little boyfriend?" one of the cops shouted after him with a mouth full of whatever pastry he was messily devouring, leaning against his desk, as Ed made his way out of the headquarters, catching a couple of eyes glancing both of their ways.

"No don't tell me you two broke up awww!" the other one that was sitting beside him added, letting out a mocking sad noise, earning himself a roaring wave of laughter from the other two that stood beside them.

Ed scoffed, shooting them a glare before fixing his glasses and walking out the big door, trying to shake off the anger that was bubbling inside of him dangerously.

"Too bad I was really looking foward to the wedding!!" he heard one of them shout after him followed by another roar of laughter as he made his way down the street towards the building row that held you two's favourite restaurants, knowing he'd find you there getting your lunch for the break.

"Idiots," he muttered to himself.

Seeing you grab your lunch from your favourite mexican place he followed you into a nearby alley, just besides the headquarters. What the hell were you up to?? He moved a bit closer, making sure you didn't see him, and watched as you climbed the fire escapes all the way to the top of the building. Were you meeting someone secretly? You got his mind and jealousy working overtime.

Carefully he followed you suit, quietly going up the clanky metal stairs making sure he didn't make any sounds and signal you about his whereabouts and that he is following you. Once up on the roof of the headquarters he stared in confusion. There you were, sitting by yourself as you ate your meal, your back turned to him and no one else in sight. Weird. He decided to give it a couple of minutes, still thinking you might be meeting with someone but they didn't yet come.

Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen, twenty,... no one was there and you slowly started to pick up your stuff as your break was coming to an end and you had to return to your post.

Huh. Was this really all you did every time you made an excuse for a break? You really were avoiding him. Why?..

"Oh poor little Ed, not even he wants you, anymore" Riddler mused in his ear making Ed glare in his direction, not having any of his nonesense today, or at least not wanting to believe it.

He came out of his hiding shaking the Riddler out of his mind and cleared his throat catching your attention.

"U-Uhm Ed- what are you doing here?" You stood up with a startle, fear and guilt washing over you as your brain tried to come up with an excuse but failed.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he asked calmly after a couple of moments of silence, his troubled expression made your heart hurt even more than it already did.

"Because he haaates you," Riddler mused. Ed tried to ignore him, mentally sighing at his failed attempt at brushing him off.

"I-uhm I-I'm not-," you tried, but you knew Ed was intelligent you couldn't lie to him, nor did he deserve it, "I-I'm sorry..."

"Is it something that I've done? I thought we were good but I-I can change. I can do better-" Ed started but was swiftly cut off by you.

"Here we go, another failed friendship. You will die alone. Might as well do it now," Riddler smirked, chuckling as he peered over the edge of the building.

"No! No no.. it's not you, you're perfect, it's just..." you fumbled around words in your mind, trying to find a way to explain yourself without having to reveal what you truly felt, but every attempt at doing so turned into a dead end.

Riddler sighed, bored expression on his face as he stared at Ed.

Ed waited patiently, bracing his heart for a heartbreak. Mind involuntarily giving in to the Riddler's ideas but his eyes remained focused on you.

You looked over at him, "shit."

"Ughh... here it goes, please don't hate me-" you started. You tried to muster up courage. Standing in front of a loaded gun felt less scary than this and you didn't know why as you couldn't help but fiddle with your fingers, avoiding his concerned gaze, "I... I like you."

Ed stopped for a bit processing what you said before blurting out again and stepping a few feet closer to you, "I like you too what's the problem then.."

"No, I like like you..," you looked up at him, "I know you're with Kristen I really don't want to cause any problems, just, I just need a few days to get myself together.."

"Oh.. I'm not," Ed blurted.

"What?" you asked, trying to push back tears that threatened to form at your waterlines, panic still simmering in your body.

"I'm not with Kristen, I never was," he continued.

You blinked a few times before looking up at him, "But you two, I saw you laughing and being close and I thought-"

"No, we are just friends, I did all that because I like you too... And I thought, that being close with someone might change that and get you out of my head," he looked away, but looked back to meet your eyes, still nervous of your reaction even though you just confessed to him not even a minute ago.

"Huh..," you were taken aback honestly, and he could see gears turning in your head as you processed what just happened.

"Uhm.. did it work?," you blurted out after a few moments.

"Nope.," Ed shot out, he held back a smile even finding some comedy in the whole situation.

"Huh..," you let out, "we're really both idiots."

"Yeah," he chuckled, fixing his glasses and looking up at you, warm smile spreading on his lips and remaining there, "you really like me?" he let out after a few minutes.

"Y-yeah," you couldn't help but look away avoiding his gaze, warmth creeping up your cheeks as the reality dawned upon you slowly.

Grin plastered itself on his lips as he tried really hard to push it back, fixing his glasses to try and calm his happiness, a whole horde of butterflies settling themselves in his stomach.

"So..," you glanced up at him after a few moments, "boyfriends?," you smiled a bit.

"Boyfriends," he grinned back and you squeezed him into a tight hug, burying your face into his shoulder, feeling like an immense weight melted off of your whole being and warmth washed over you.

"Wow I can't believe those assholes were right,.." Ed muttered under his breath as he hugged back.

"Huh?," you looked up at him in confusion, not sure what he is referring to.

"Uh nevermind, story for another time," he grinned.

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Imagine # 1,045

Gif NOT mine.

Year posted - 2023

*This man runs cold and you can't convince me otherwise, and I personally am a walking furnace! So this popped into my head while reading fics with Oz, and this is the product of that thought. (Also just look at his stupid lil face, I just wanna smoosh his cheeks together and call him my dumb lil baby.)

"I've missed you my darling." Oswald groaned tiredly as he nestled into (Y/n)'s comforting embraced. "And I've miss you my King." She cooed with a smile, knowing just how much he loved that title, pride swelled in her chest when he visibly shuttered. "You are always so warm." Oswald murmured, hiding his face into her neck, his skin practically ice compared to hers. "I'm glad you like that." She chuckled to herself, finding it oh so endearing how he cuddled into her. "I love it." He corrected, all but purring as he lay slack against her. He needed this, he'd had a rough day, like most days anymore. Oswald loved his darling (Y/n), and he was certain he always would. But he especially loved just how warm she always was compared to him. On long cold Gotham days, he longed for the end of the day to cuddle up with his love in their shared bed. All nestled together under the luxurious blankets, safe and warm. It helped to ease the tension in his body, and relax his frazzled mind. And it was a lovely way of showing just how much he not only missed her throughout the day, but also how much he loved her and wanted to always be near her. "Can't I convince you to quit your job, and join me in mine?" Oswald mused thoughtfully, wanting nothing more than to spend every second of every day with his lover. "Afraid not darling, I love my work." (Y/n) kissed the crown of his head, holding him a little tighter. "I know." He sighed sadly, but quickly kissed the side of her neck to assure her that it was okay. "Rest now my King." (Y/n) instructed before she started humming a tender melody, knowing it would help to lull Oswald into a peaceful sleep.

[ditzydoe444]

GK! Jason spanking & choking you with his huge arms and fucking you with his third leg

MDNI 18+

gk!jason x reader

jason todd smut

“such an obedient thing aren’t ya?” jason cooed as he thrusted harshly, watching your ass ripple as his hips hits them. he had your head shoved down on the pillow whilst your ass was up in the air, your tight cunt getting abused. “m-mph!” you whined, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as if it could save you.

“so tight,” jason grunted as his fingers dug onto the flesh around your hip. he was so deep, hitting all of our sweet spots making you dribble like a useless sex toy. “s-so big,” you whined as you muffled your sounds with the pillow. “you can handle it, right sweetheart? don’t want you backing out now.”

you weren’t obviously, he just felt so damn good you were getting fucked dumb. he was huge, his girth was enough to put any pornstars to shame, your tight cunt barely taking him in without feeling a slight burn. the sensation was too much, you were getting overstimulated just from his dick alone, making you squirm away. a harsh slap landed on your ass, making you whine even louder. “don’t you there run away,” he grunted as his strong hands took your arms and placed them on your back, leaving you no choice but to take him like a whore.

“j-just so big,” you whined, barely getting your words out as your breath was getting knocked out with each of his thrusts, making you choke and gag. “you’re just laying there whilst i’m doin’ all the work, and you’re complaining?” it didn’t take long before another harsh slap landed on your ass, making the soft flesh jiggle and turning a soft shade of pink.

you couldn’t even respond, you could barely open your eyes let alone form a proper sentence. jason wasted no time fisting your hair into a pony tail, before tugging it roughly for you to come up to his chest, your bare back against it. “look so pretty like this,” he cooed as he kissed your neck, leaving a trail of hot wet kisses and marks as he bit on the skin.

“t-too big,” you moaned, jason hated whining, and you knew that. so the moment his large hand clasped over your mouth muffling your sounds, whilst his other hand went on your neck choking you, you were gone. your walls tightened around him so damn much he was going to combust

“stop whining won’t ya?” he grunted in your ear as his grip tightened. “can’t even fuck you without you whining like a brat.” he was so deep in your stomach you were convinced he could put a baby in you right there and then.

“brats don’t get to come, so stop whining and take it.”

[damianwaynesbelovedsposts]

y/n: is that your hand on my ass?

jason: sorry, it was an accident.

y/n: your hand is still on my ass

jason: accidentally

requests are open!

[kamdamz]

I am just now noticing Jason wearing a necklace in Gotham Knights, so uh… Horny Time.

Either it was just getting used to wearing it or maybe that he secretly craves your compliments, either way, he still has it on in bed. Even when doing the deed.

As the moment is tense, but in a good way, him thrusting himself roughly into you, you can’t help but to stare at the necklace on him. Getting more turned on by every second of it, he looks way too handsome, it’s almost dizzying.

As you both finish coming down of your highs, he’s being sweet in aftercare, yet you can’t help but to tug on his necklace to pull him close, either wanting another round or just feel each other.

I’m trying to give hope here for Gotham Knights Jason, he needs more attention

[arjudy224]

The Boys need help

Part 1- Alfred's new help

Alfred's New Help part 2

After a "random" attack on the Wayne family, the new maid may be more than what meets the eye.

Joker caresses the side of the young boy's face with a twisted smile. Tension spreads throughout his entire upper body. Dick notices how there is a slight shake in Damien's palms. After all this time, sometimes it is easy to forget how young Damien truly is. With his youthful round face and big blue eyes, Damien could fit in with your average middle schooler.... if you ignore the murder in his eyes.

"My Father used to say that-"

BANG!

The Joker crumbles to the ground surprising every member of the Wayne family. A small trembling figure is revealed slowly stepping out from behind the clown. Scanning the room for any other potential danger, Y/N reluctantly puts the safety back on.

"Are you guys okay?' Y/N's voice trembles before dutifully untying Bruce.

Five pairs of eyes stare at her in painful silence.

"Where did you get that?" Damien questions breaking the silence.

Making her way down the line, Y/N starts working on Tim's restraints next.

"Alfred stashed a few in case something like this happened. I never thought I would ever need it... Until a van full of clowns passed me on the highway this morning."

An unexpected smile appears on Damien's face. Jason and Dick share a long look. Jason shrugs. Bruce's unreadable gaze suddenly makes her defensive. Before untying Jason, Y/N kicks the Joker. A wheezy laugh echoes across the room. At the pure shock staring back at her, she defends "It's not like I killed him or anything. Have you guys never heard of stand-your-ground laws?"

Jason starts to chuckle to himself. Looking past the horrified reactions of his family to his unlikely savior, he flashes her a grateful smile. Patting her on the back, he says

"Well' I don't know about the rest of them, but I'm sure glad you were here. That was badass."

Sharing an unreadable look with Dick, it doesn't take very long for the rest of the family to snap out of their stupor. Tim and Damien team up to tie up the clown prince of crime while Dick gags him. Once the team realizes it wasn't a lethal shot, jokes run wild.

"Listen, I'm just saying you'll never see Y/N and Deadshot in the same room..." Dick jokes playfully shoving the girl.

"Please if Y/N's skill set resembled any vigilante, it would be Nightwing." Tim continues with a wink.

"Y/N would be great at bow staff, but I sincerally doubt that Nightwing could do colorguard." Jason jokes.

"Ladies. Ladies. You may be right, but my ass would not look as good in the uniform." She interjects, "Man's definitely got me beat there.

"Debatable," Jason comments under his breath.

Dick smacks him lightly on the arm.

Bruce offers the young girl a cold glass of water while steering her away from all the chatter. Y/n gratefully takes it.

"Are you alright?"

Y/n nods slowly.

Bruce's gaze meets hers. It's easy to see why people consider him a playboy. His eyes have the ability to make you feel completely and utterly seen.

"Thank you for protecting my family."

Melting under his earnest gaze, Y/N glances toward the 3 boys dragging Jason away from the Joker. Past the Billionaire heartthrob lies a wearied Father in constant fear of losing his family... again.

"I'm sorry I know you don't like guns. I didn't like the way he was looking at Damien."

Bruce sighs putting a hand on her shoulder. The wrestling brothers draw their attention back to the front of the room.

"I had to do it for old times' sake. Come on!" Jason protests with a smug grin as Tim and Dick drag him away.

Winking at Y/N, Jason weakly waves as the boys leave the room.

A parade of red and blue flashing lights interrupts the show.

Alfred slips into the room wordlessly.

"Master Bruce, Detective Gordan would like a word."

Y/N gasps in surprise.

"Where have you been?"

Alfred stays silent for a moment.

"Who do you think dealt with his goons?"

Batman and Gordon:

In the corner of the room watching the group of young men teasing Y/N, Batman and Gordan exchange glances.

Gordon cracks a smile.

"Seems like a good kid." Gordan

Batman stays silent observing the interactions unfolding before them.

"She has impeccable marksmanship for someone who has never been trained." Batman comments.

Gordon raises an eyebrow. Taking a sip of his coffee, he pauses.

"Are you insinuating something?"

"...No. It's an observation."

Tag list: @jjsmeowthie

[bat-stuff]

*after being sent the wrong location on patrol*

Jason: Where’s everyone going? Bingo?

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Small Cuts

Jason Todd x Reader

wc: 1.7 K summary: Red Hood saves you from the chaos, being scared shitless warnings: standard Gotham violence, description of minor injuries, (panic attack), slight angst/comfort, established relationship a/n: for my loyal Red Hood fans (you know who you are), here's a special drabble I came up with while looking through my notes. have fun (divider)

Jason quickly dodges another punch, putting a bullet between the muggers eyes. Yes, Bruce said no guns and killing, but he isn‘t Bruce. He doesn‘t care, these shits need to go down, they did that themselves by doing wrongs. It seems that Dick managed to escort as many civilians as possible from the mall, getting back to his brother to fight by his side. He knows Bane is a powerful guy, but his small army seems to be quite strong too. It‘s annoying him, he probably has a broken rib by now, and the cuts along his body sting, it getting more difficult to fight against the remaining soldiers.

A scarily familiar, shrill scream sounds amidst the chaos, his breath hitching under his mask. He really hopes it‘s not the person he thinks it is. With a quick punch to the other‘s head, he can search for who screamed, already cursing Dick for not clearing the floor properly. It seems like he is on autopilot, remembering you telling him about going on a quick shop to the mall, see if there is anything new. That same mall he is fighting criminals in right now.

He finally spots you, trapped between the wall and a huge shelf that crashed against it, you being in between it. There is just enough space for you to fit in, but not enough to crawl out of it on your own. Besides, you‘ve never looked so terrified before, not even able to breath properly in your panicked state.

Without sharing another glance, he runs up to you and pushes the shelf away from the wall, grunting at how heavy it is. Now that the huge weight is off, you intake a deep breath, close to hyperventilating again. You can‘t even register who is in front of you or that you are free again.

Jason really wants to just let the medics from outside take care of you, but he can‘t. He carefully scoops you up, holding your head close against him, as he hurries away from the fighting scene, patting your back softly with his other hand. Meanwhile, you can barely register that you aren‘t crushed between the wall anymore, but in someone‘s arms, taking you away.

»S- Lady, you‘re alright! I‘m bringing you to safety, you‘re gonna be okay.«

The slightly distorted voice attempts to calm you down, doing little to actually make you stop from panicking. Jason cursed himself inwardly as he almost slipped, having to keep his secret identity from you while still outside, being close to giving up and patching you up right here; call you his favourite nicknames and petnames. It‘s not like he doesn‘t trust you, no, he would do anything for you because you‘d do anything for him. He still sometimes cries himself to sleep, thinking he doesn‘t deserve you. Now, he is close to crying again, but not because of that. His world is injured, because he wasn‘t careful enough. He should‘ve been the one escorting civilians, maybe he would have spotted you sooner.

With quick strides, Jason finally sets you down onto his couch. These are the rare moments he is glad he lives close to the mall, being still dead-concerned about you.

Your knee is badly scraped, a couple of dark bruises littering on your exposed skin, small cuts across your face.Oh, your pretty face. It‘s all his fault.

As if on instinct, he gets his med kit and kneels down in front of the couch, craddling your face in his hands. Now safe in his apartment, he doesn‘t care about his secret identity being revealed to you, he just wants to make this better.

»Darling, I‘m here, don‘t you worry, okay? It‘s me, Jason. Jay-jay.«

Before you can respond, he takes off his helmet and discards it to the floor, cleaning your small scrapes around his face carefully. His fingers barely touch your skin, the wet rug gently cleaning the little blood off of your forehead and cheeks, his own face looking way worse than yours.

Gasping, you finally take in his face and feel a rush of worry again. Leaning up, you cup his cheek, seeing his black eye and cut across his chin. He looks absolutely done, yet he is still on his knees, cleaning at your own wounds.

He is immediately alerted, searching your face for any sign of pain or discomfort. He doesn‘t seem to realise he is injured as well.

»W-what is it? Did I hurt you?« What is that question? Of course he hurt you, he should‘ve been there way sooner.

Taking a deep breath, you try to use your voice; being still shaken up and weak.

»Your fucking eye...« Jason frowns even more at your weak voice, huffing out and leaning you back down on your back. He bites down on his inner cheek harshly, trying to focus and work on your injuries as best as possible. Your eyes stay on his face, silently observing him as you finally start to breath more normally.

Your light scrapes sting as he cleans them up, putting small bandages over them.

»Don‘t they need you?« You croak out quietly again, whincing lightly as he cleans your scraped knee, the wet cloth becoming bloody.

»They can handle it. I need you to be safe first.« Jason mutters back, feeling guilty and bad for causing you more pain while patching you up. It hurts more but you bear through, leaning up on your elbows to see how bad your knee is. You grimace lightly, hissing at the familiar sting while he cleans your wound.

Jason doesn‘t glance to your face anymore, completely focussed on taking care of you. He carefully wraps a bandage around your knee, lifting it up a little on the couch. His fingertips barely graze your skin, his touch even more gentle than usual. Your body is still trembling from the adrenaline, slumping back on the couch with a heavy sigh. It all comes to your senses.

Jason is Red Hood. He just saved you from that terror attack in the mall. Seems to be in a worse shape than you and still patches you up as gentle as possible. He left his team behind just to take you to safety.

»Take off your shirt, need to see the bruises.«

His voice snaps you out of your slow procession of events, humming lightly in thought before carefully pulling off your shirt. It hurts to move your arms up, feeling a painful stretch around your right side. He helps you take it off, eyes quickly scanning over your big bruise around your ribs. It looks even worse now, a darker bruise evident against your right side. He wants to punch himself, he never meant to hurt you.

It‘s not even his fault. He was just fighting, not having been in charge for escorting civilians. Maybe he shouldn‘t feel guilty, he knows better than blaming himself for something that he didn‘t do. But it‘s just unfair, he could‘ve made it less worse if he only put an eye out and saw you and—

»Jason! Your nose is bleeding.«

You finally managed to pull him out of his thoughts, not knowing what to do. Jason quickly stands up again and gets the bathroom, leaning over the sink to get his nose clean and make it stop bleeding. Rushing over, you limp the way to Jason and get to his side, trying to see in what shape he is right now.

»I‘m fine, why are you standing? Get down- sit down, darling, you don‘t need to do anything.«

»I am not sitting down, you need to sit down, you‘re literally bleeding.« You argue back, trying to lead him to the bedroom.

»I‘m not sitting down, I need to get you safe— «

»I am safe.« You reassure him, seeing his hands tremble, eyes seem unfocused. Nothing really seems to help him calm down, grabbing his shoulders and forcing eye-contact.

After some more attempts of coaxing him into the bedroom, you can finally take care of him. He stands in front of the bed as you sit in front of him, patching up the few gashes along his torso.

Jason watches you the whole time, running his hand through some strands of hair occasionally. Yes, it does hurt as you bandage him up, but all he can focus on is you at the moment. Whole and safe, taking care of him finally.

He doesn‘t deserve you.

But he won‘t ever trade you for anyone else.

You don‘t need to talk once you get him all patched up and clean, both of you acting automatically once everything falls back to normal.

Jason crawls back in bed with you like this morning, carefully wrapping his arms around you, no matter how much it hurts his own body. Both tangled up in each other, comforting the other with sweet and grounding words. You are both safe now.

The small conversation paused, letting a comfortable silence fall over the room. After a few moments you speak up again, atmosphere getting lighter.

»I was dating the Red Hood all the time? For two years?«

He groans lightly, looking down at you in his arms.

»I‘m sorry, I… couldn‘t really tell you. But I wanted to, I really did.«

Jason apologises, his guilty expression pulling at your heart again.

»Wait, no, I‘m not mad. It‘s just… a nice surprise? I don‘t know, but I will buy endless Red Hood merch from now on. If you like it or not.«

You tell him with a small smile, making him pause before rolling his eyes. Of course. There‘s no way you would react badly. Especially after saving you.

a/n: WOW! really hoped you enjoyed it, i'm excited to hear your thoughts about it!!

← MASTERLIST

[queenbrucewayne]

Late Nights (Batman)

A/n: I am going to be writing a Bruce Wayne version, which is why Batman is in parenthesis.

“You know, it could be a few more hours until he comes back.” Alfred came from behind, placing a soft, cozy blanket over Y/n.

She smiled sweetly, humming as she brought the blanket up to her neck and snuggled deeper into the warmth.

“I know, but I don’t work tomorrow and it would be nice to greet him home from time to time when I can… especially tonight.”

Alfred nodded, leaning down he kissed the top of her head, he walked back to go upstairs and get ready for bed.

Y/n glanced over at the clock, 1:30AM. She sighed, Alfred was probably right, he probably wouldn’t be back for another few hours. However the stubbornness and determination was enough to give her the confidence to pull thru. Putting on a small show on the Batcave computer, she grabbed her coffee and snuggled deeper into his chair, waiting.

She wasn’t sure at what point she fell asleep, but the sound of the Batmobile screeching to a stop pulled her from her nice dream she was having. Still too tired to move, she brought the blanket closer to her face, her legs curled up to her chest as she tried to keep away from the cold air.

The sound of heavy boots echoed throughout the Batcave, getting closer to the chair she was snuggled in. When she heard them come to a halt next to her, she slowly opened her eyes as she came face to face to a pair of bright blue eyes looking back at her.

Bruce raised his gloved hand and brought it to the side of her cheek, stroking her face gently with his thumb. Y/n smiled, still fighting the sleep that was trying to pull her back into dream land. Glancing over at the clock she saw it now read 5:40AM.

She yawned, looking back to Bruce who was still wearing the make up around his eyes. He looked just as exhausted as she felt.

“Didn’t we talk about you not waiting up for me.”

“You talked about it, I remember listening for the most part.” Y/n shrugged. “Common, let’s go take a shower and then we can talk about it again.”

Bruce smirked, “right, because you and I both know I’ll wanna talk to you about it right after showering together.”

“Exactly!” Y/n stood up, taking his hand and leading him upstairs. “You have amazing self-control.” She teased.

“Not when it comes to you.” Bruce stated.

Y/n laughed, before they could get much further Bruce stopped in place, causing her to get pulled back. “What’s wrong?”

Bruce looked back to the clock. “It’s almost 6AM.”

“Yeah?”

Bruce looked back to her, feeling his grip on her tighten. He pulled her gently towards him, wrapping his other arm around her waist. Leaning down he kissed her gently, which Y/n was happy to receive.

When he pulled back Y/n looked up to him confused. “What was that for?”

“Happy anniversary.” Bruce said, kissing the top of her head he smiled at her expression. “Surprised I remembered?” He joked, although he knew it was fair if she didn’t think he would.

Y/n nodded, standing on her tippy toes and wrapping her arms around his neck, she gave him a little peck. “You’ve just been so busy, and then when the Justice League needed your help on top of the company putting you thru meeting after meeting… I don’t know, I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did.”

Bruce sighed, laying his head down on her shoulder he started to relax when he felt Y/n play with his hair. “I know, I’m sorry.”

Y/n shook her head, “you don’t have anything to be sorry about, common, let’s go take that shower and sleep for all eternity.”

“We can’t sleep for all eternity, we have dinner reservations tonight.” Bruce looked up to her, her cute confused expression made him laugh.

“Really?!” She asked, trying not to get her hopes up too high. “What about patrol tonight?”

“I called Clark, he owes me one.”

“You asked Superman to watch over Gotham for a night? Wow, you must really need to sleep.” Y/n couldn’t believe he actually asked him. “Fuck it, this is great!”

Bruce smirked, “don’t get used to it, we shall see if Superman can handle a night on the Gotham streets.” Taking her hands down from his neck, he interlocked his fingers with her, walking in front this time as he lead them upstairs.

“I give him till midnight before he breaks.” Y/n teased, following close behind, and excited for a night off.

[stararch4ngelqueen]

I just realized that we've never talked about anything like "morning wood" scene where reader wakes up first and sees her man's cock rising. (i can't choose between jason or simon)

Why not both 🧍🏽‍♀️

I only have strength to do character inclusive before hat man takes me. Please enjoy ❤️✨

🎩 🤺

Time Written - 9:07 p.m

The hour was early, the sun non existent in the skies just yet, but it’s presence would soon accompany the beautiful violet-tangerine clouds merging into dark, dull gray.

Your beloved still has his arm snugly wrapped around your waist, his thumb nudged just underneath the hem of your large shirt, mindlessly rubbing along soft skin. The best parts of waking up in the mornings weren’t just waking up alongside your personal body heater known as your muscly teddy bear, clutching you close like said plush toy.

Half of the time, it’s the not so subtle surprise pressed up against your lower back and rear when your mind pokes out of sleep, making it even more difficult for you to get comfortable again after being painfully aware of it.

Most of the time when it occurs, as does the ache in your lower tummy bloom; a need for him, an eager response of your body towards his.

He’s blissfully unaware of how hard his cock had gotten, too lost in the throws of sleep while clutching you close like a doll. It’s the rare occasion he slept with you a full night instead of coming home in the early hours of the morning or the middle of the night. The rare occasion where civil duties weren’t needed or expected from him, having him all to yourself.

While he appreciates coming home to a hot meal and a warm bed after a long patrol, it wasn’t enjoyable without you in the sheets with him. His body surely expressed just how much he had missed you.

You wondered what he might’ve dreamed of right this very moment. Was it an innocent, mindless walk in the park or the beach with you during a warm sunset? Or, was he living through a fantasy of burying his thick cock in between your plush thighs? Holding your head down against his own pillow while breeding your needy little cunt?

Whatever the cause, it left you quivering with a growing need to find out.

Your natural curiosity had you reach your hand behind you, brushing along bare skin of his lower torso where his tank top had ridden up, resting your fingers along his outer hip. Trailing along his lower waist, you shuffled your hips just a bit until you prod along your desired goal.

He emits a content little groan after a faint hitch in his breath, a soft sound that only lasts for a few moments. Satisfied with the result, your hand gives a soft squeeze along the pleasantly warm length, comfortably hidden from you under thick, navy fabric.

His breathing starts to slow down as soon as you start to move your fingers. Slow, teasing little squeezes just along the blunt tip, massaging down the length of his cock. How it irked you to brush your thumb along his sensitive underside, making your mouth water and your thighs slightly clench.

“Morning, hun.” His voice is hoarse, letting out a short yawn. He still keeps his arm around your middle, burying his face into your sweet hair after you settle with the startle of him waking up without your knowledge.

You turn, your loose shirt slightly twisted by your movements as you face your sweetheart, taking in his adorably tussled hair and sleepy eyes boring into yours.

His smug, little semi smirk lets you know that he might not be entirely surprised by this circumstance. He doesn’t seem embarrassed or ashamed by this either. He seems more amused than anything, especially since his favorite girl could do something about it.

You press a soft kiss against his lips, one that left him confused when he attempted to lean for more before you abruptly pull away. He whispers your name in question, lightly surprised when you kiss the corner of his mouth, down his chin, underneath his sharp, lightly stubbled jaw.

“So it’s that kind of morning, huh?” He questions, his Adam’s apple bobbing after you kiss it, his voice still raspy from sleep.

“Mhm,” you hum, your fingers eagerly slipping just underneath the hem of his sweatpants. He contentedly sighs, letting you have your fun now that he knows you’re in one of your playful little moods.

Kissing down along his chest, following the roadmap of his main scar down towards the rich, dark happy trail that peaked out of his sweatpants.

His breath hitches at the touch of your hands squeezing him through the damn fabric barrier, and he finds it’s a little bit harder to keep his cool at this stage. You can really do that to him, and it’s like nothing can ever compare.

“What’s gotten into you, sweetheart?” He amusingly murmurs, his voice still soft and husky.

Should be you, soon enough. You wanted to say back, but pursed your lips to prevent saying it. He knew; he beat you to it merely two damn seconds after he asked it.

It would be a shame to make a mess on such cool toned, dark gray silk sheets. Freshly washed, too.

He’s trying to resist as much as he can, but you’re just excitingly relentless when it comes to getting what you want. This morning, it just happens to be him.

“You tryin’ to ruin me already, aren’t you?” He chuckles, a handsome, rugged sound that shoots arousal down your spine.

“Mhmm,” You hum, starting to pull down the waistband just enough. His swollen, eager cock quickly greets you, hot and heavy in your hand, the tip practically weeping for more of your touch. A heavy, glistening bead trickles down the blunt head, perfectly caught along the tip of your tongue to taste him.

Settling perfectly snug against his legs, curled perfectly per comfort, you trail your tongue under the head, lapping along that particular spot that garnered a beautiful reaction outta him. His head tilted back against his pillow, brows scrunched from light ripples of euphoria, fists lightly clenching along blankets tossed aside.

“Shiiit… really ruinin’ me, sweetheart.”

You stop for a second, smiling a bit while rolling your thumb close to the base. “Should’ve specified.”

He lets out a soft snort, expressing his affection through amused chuckles and heart eyes through a heavy lidded gaze.

This morning is already off to a great start. He’s trying to think of a way to one-up you, but he honestly is just too tired for all of that.

You barely had just a bit of him in your mouth, providing such simple kitten licks, and he displayed such heavenly responses that bloomed your ego to wonderfully high levels.

Then again, you seem to be up and about already, so maybe he’ll have to put in some effort after you pamper him. You’ll quickly enact upon what he so eagerly desired to reenact from his dream; properly face fucking his sweetheart. Glossy lips pressed against his pelvis while bullying himself deep down your throat, further fueled by those obscenely filthy chokes he adored so much.

A well deserved throatfuck for such an adorably sassy mouth.

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

bite me!

vampire!nightwing x fem!reader

MINORS DNI.

just so you know: contains BLOOD, OBVIOUSLY. also tw: knife, attempted mugging. unprotected sex, a very MINOR praise kink. nightwing is a vampire. that’s all

1500 words, all dedicated to a certain discord channel

it feels like a dream. the warmth of his body weight between your legs as he pushes your back into the mattress, combined with the heady feeling of pain? pleasure? that’s flooding your senses. you know how you got here at least. you know who you are, where you are (in your bed, in your apartment) you know who the mayor is, who’s on top of you (nightwing) but still. something about it feels out of your grasp, your willpower melting into something syrupy that’s no doubt making your blood taste even better, you can only guess. your limbs feel heavy, detached from your body, and you feel your pulse at your neck, where nightwing’s lips are suctioned, his teeth deep in your vein. you’re happy to help him—he helped you, after all.

the cold metal of a blade presses into your neck, and you feel fear. you’re hot, so hot, but chills run up and down your body every time you (barely) exhale (not wanting to move an inch) and you know your hands are cold, clammy. this asshole probably just wants your bag, your wallet, your keys with the charms attached. (and you’d been willing to give it to him too.) but as nightwing hopped down from his perch on the nearest fire escape, you’d been pulled into the thief’s defensive position, a knife at your neck. nightwing, light on his feet like a ballet dancer, had been creeping closer towards you, ever-so-slowly. the man you were being pressed against was getting more frantic, you could feel it, and nightwing made his maneuver: getting his stick into the crook of the man’s knife holding elbow, yanking his arm away from you. in the process, the blade broke skin, and you felt the warmth of your blood start to ooze down your neck. you slap a hand to it, hurriedly pawing through your bag for a handkerchief. you’re aware of nightwing fighting the crook, the muffled sounds of their scuffle registering in your ears. metal on metal clangs as his knife is knocked to the concrete, and you hear nightwing mutter directions to his location into his earpiece, the white eyes of his domino mask narrowed as he looks at you.

you’re not sure how he knew where you lived, but you’re there, and you know he sees the pleading look in your eyes. you feel indebted to him, you were beginning to see your life flash before your eyes. adrenaline was coursing through your body, pounding through your veins, pushing blood out of the barely-there cut in your neck. you’d blinked, and ended up under him on your bed, his large hand cradling your head as he softly set you down.

it’s barely a pinch, barely a pinch when his teeth break skin, the area already numb. he’d lapped his pink tongue over the dark, drying blood on your neck, a spark igniting low in your belly.

you can feel his hard length rocking against the heat of your own crotch, the need for more radiating from the both of you, something palpable, solid. he moans into the crook of your neck, where his teeth are latched, and the warm breath across your flushed skin feels sinful, inviting. you wrap your otherwise idle hands around his torso, his strong, defined torso. the need for him grows stronger as his hips continue to rock against yours.

“n-nightwing, i—”

he sticks his gloved, blue middle and ring fingers in your mouth, and you leave them soaking, moaning around their weight on your tongue. you’re stammering out what’s probably a question, a ‘please,’ pathetic begging. he knows what you need, and he’s tracing the waistband of your underwear under your pants, the sensation heightened from his mouth on your neck. he reaches up to cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb across the flushed skin. he lifts his head, and you don’t feel his teeth leave your neck, but you feel empty, so empty, whining as he nods at you, so sympathetic. you roll onto your belly, up onto your elbows. as he looks down at you, humming with approval. a shiver starts up your legs, happy to please, and he notes it, leaning farther over you.

“you sat like a dream for me, pretty girl.”

he brushes a hair out of your face as you look back at him. the sight of you on your belly under him, big eyes looking into his, sends his cock jerking. but instead, he sighs. he was so hasty. so pathetic for the way the crimson of your blood, your wound, was highlighting the curve of your sweet neck. his actions have been very, very unlike him. so impolite, so improper.

“i would like to apologize for earlier, and ask you directly this time. do i have your permission to penetrate you?”

you giggle, feeling a little delirious.

“of course, of course!”

he smiles, slight but warm, at your eager tone. before you know it, the top half of his blue and black suit is off, revealing a highly chiseled body that makes your throat suddenly very, very dry. he rubs a warm hand on your back, pulling your underwear down to bare his teeth at your bared skin. supple, soft. you squirm a little, feeling exposed, when nightwing grabs a handful. looking very pleased, he leans over you, nibbling at your ear while he nestles his length in your crevice. his weight on you feels amazing, like nothing you’ve ever felt before. you no longer feel the frantic adrenaline tensing through your body like it had been twenty minutes prior. nightwing licks a stripe across your throat, and you moan involuntarily, shivering as he blows a cool stream right where his tongue had touched.

he grips into the meat of your ass, pushing up to expose your dripping cunt. nightwing slides a finger through your folds, his adam's apple bobbing as he realizes how wet you are for him.

he sits back, quickly pulling his pants off, exposing exactly what you’d been feeling. the tip a pretty pink, it’s shiny, gleaming with pre as he takes himself in his hand, pumping once, twice. you can’t believe your eyes: nightwing almost seems shy when he realizes you’re looking back, watching him. his cheeks are pink under his dark domino mask. it’s all you can do not to tackle him and take him on the floor of your apartment. he must see the look in your eyes, because he’s back over you in a flash, thick forearms bracketing your head. you lift your hips up, and he spreads your legs farther, holding out his hand to you.

“spit.”

you blink at him, but you comply, and he strokes your saliva along his cock before lining his tip up with your entrance. he pushes in slowly, such a gentleman, watching your reaction very closely as he gives you time to adjust. one of his hands snakes over, lacing his fingers with yours as you take a deep breath, nodding for more. he gives it to you, slowly, so slowly, until he’s seated to the hilt.

his teeth are latched back onto your neck, flames are licking up your spine. you’ve had sex before, sure, but this is different. very, very different. his hips are snapping into yours as you moan into his arm. you feel so full, his cock somehow stuffed into your hole as his teeth siphon blood from your neck. you lean your head back, barely able to squeak out a sentence.

“‘m close, nightwing—” his pace starts faster, the bed creaking with the force of his weight pounding into you, pounding you farther into the mattress. pleasure shoots from your head to your toes, the wave threatening to crest as he slows down (tease!) just to start up again, repeating the rhythm until you feel it, your toes curling. you cry out, nightwing sighing happily into the crook of your neck as you shake under him, coming apart from his ministrations.

your vision completely whites out, ecstasy vibrating through your limbs.

he sits back, his cum painting your dimpled lower back. his flushed cheeks and chest send your heart aflutter, watching him with your eyes half shut.

“did so, so well for me, darling.” he purrs.

you point him in the direction of the bathroom, and after helping to clean you up too, nightwing joins you in bed. he holds you close, an arm tucked around your middle.

coming from just penetration alone is very new for you.. but so is sex with a vampire. you never saw his full face, but you never needed to. he gave you something you never knew you needed, and held you afterwards like you’re something precious to him. the strong presence of his body at your back is so reassuring, exhaustion and peace weighing down your bones until you’re asleep in his arms.

a rose is on your bedside table, your companion from last night long gone. you’re not sure how he got out. your front door is locked, as are all your windows, but you don’t think about it too hard. you probably shouldn’t think about him too hard either.

post divider: @enchanthings <3

[satelitis]

— BIRDS OF A FEATHER ♱ jason todd x reader

->we should stick together

pairings — jason todd x fem!reader

© content/ trigger warning — r is insecure, but jason comes in clutch!!

dal yaps — this is dedicated to @ivyppoison i hope you feel better baby <3

requested? — yes/no

the birds chirped gleefully signaling the new day had started, y/n and jason were asleep comfortably in each others presence entangled with one another as the cheeky sunlight peered through the blinds.

y/n had stirred awake, letting out a soft yawn as she looked over jason being still asleep, his face shoved into a pillow. his cheek smooshed as he slept with his mouth open slightly. quiet snores also being heard from him. y/n smiled as she ran her fingers through the boys hair. eventually, she stopped to pet the puppy lying beside jason, named doug, after the dog from up.

“why’d you stop?” jason groaned, still half asleep.

“doug deserves attention too, jay.” y/n replied, scratching the puppy behind the ear. he rolled over, now wrapping his arms around y/ns waist, placing soft kisses along her neck.

y/n frowned slightly, she had been thinking recently about jason, but the negative side of those thoughts got the better of her,

“jay, am i good enough for you?” she asked him, his head buried in her neck. he lifted up his head to look her in the eyes.

“baby, you’re more than ‘good enough’ you’re perfect for me, more than,” he replied, “why would you think otherwise?” he asked, his face now resembling that of a puppy. why would you ever think so low of yourself? he wondered. you were perfect in his eyes. you lit up his world more than every single light could. you made it so much better and he couldn’t even imagine a world without you in it, by his side.

“well, i’ve just been thinking, im not as pretty as those other girls, i’m quite the opposite actually, and i’m annoying…” she started, jason frowned. “i talk too much, and i just feel like i’m not enough for you,” she said.

“baby, you are way more gorgeous than any girl in gotham or anywhere else,” he started as he brought his hands up to her cheeks, cupping them. “and i love to hear you talk, your voice is like music to my ears and it’s so amazing hearing what you have to say.” he reassured.

y/n smiled as jason continued to reassure her, “now,” he added, “repeat after me.” he demanded. “i am jason todd’s awesome girlfriend and no one is better than me, and i’m so perfect for him.” he said. y/n let out a soft laugh.

“jayyy.” she trailed.

“nuh uh.” he tsked, wagging his finger at her. ���say it.” he pouted. y/n sighed.

. “i am jason todd’s awesome girlfriend and no one is better than me, and i’m so perfect for him.” the brightest smile appeared on jason’s face.

“that’s my perfect girl.” he squeezed her shoulders reassuringly.

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

Moth to the Flame Pt. 1 | Dr. Crane x Reader

summary: Dr. Jonathan Crane isn't the only 'crazy' in Gotham City and he's about to meet his match. When confronted with an unpleasant secret from his past, he's skeptical to trust the strange young woman who calls herself Victoria Vale, the rightful heiress to Arkham Asylum (and maybe his downfall).

warnings: none yet but oh baby just you wait...

A/N: I really enjoy using the original DC comic lore so if you've been following me for a while, you'll recognize the backstories in this but I've tried to make a completely different plot line.

bury a friend- Billie Eilish 🎶

i 

“Professor Crane?” You poke your head into the small office, the heavy door slightly crushing your body against the doorframe. The raven-haired man looks up from a stack of research papers on his desk and cocks an unwelcome eyebrow. 

“Come back during my office hours.” He waves you off with his free hand as he grades a paper with a red pen. His voice has the strange ability to both attract you and put you ill-at-ease at the same time. You step inside and let the heavy door close behind you. You don’t need to lock it, yet. Dr. Crane looks you up and down quickly, his lip curled in displeasure and disinterest. 

“It’s a quick question, I promise sir,” you lie through your teeth, your dimples showing beneath your full cheeks as you smile. Dr. Crane looks up at you from over the rim of his harsh rectangular frames. He stares at you for a moment, his blue eyes shifting as he thinks, then finally he sighs and sits back in his desk chair. 

“What’s your name?” He removes his glasses and wipes the lenses clean with the corner of his suit jacket. He puts them back on as you sit down opposite of him, the desk between you. You glance down at the research papers, an action that is barely noticeable, if at all. 

“Victoria,” you answer and watch as Dr. Crane sighs again, impatiently. He rolls his eyes after a moment of silence and leans forward, gesturing his hand through the air to get you to continue. 

“What did you want to ask me?” He asks pointedly, losing whatever patience he had left. 

“Well we’ve spoken once before but it was just a brief exchange after one of your lectures,” you start and Crane watches you, barely paying attention now. His eyes seem to glaze over. “I asked you about the chemical components of fear. I’d like to hear your answer.” You say slowly, your hands playing with the edge of your seat. Dr. Crane barely cocks his head to the side before he clucks his tongue and looks away. 

“Did you not like the answer I gave you before?” 

“I’d forgotten what you said,” you explain as you wipe your clammy hands on your thighs. Dr. Crane threw his gaze back to you and raised an eyebrow, his expression one of obvious judgment. 

“Fear is an emotional response to a threat. It’s a basic evolutionary survival mechanism. The two primary parts of the brain that deal with fear are the amygdala and the hippocampus…” he answers dully, regurgitating what every psych student already knows. 

“Respectfully, sir,” you start, your voice steady, “I’m talking about the chemical components of fear, not the anatomical.” 

Dr. Crane regards you with an unreadable expression and then removes his glasses, sighing deeply again. He looks down at his glasses and then clears his throat. 

“You’re interested in fear chemistry, are you?” His tone is low and dry, like he’s mocking you. 

“Interested isn’t exactly the right word.” You answer with a small shrug. 

“What is the right word then, Victoria?” The way he says your name is sharp, like a door closing when you aren’t expecting it. He finally looks up at you again.

“I’m…” you search for the right word and then wet your lips, “... attracted to the concept of fear. It’s almost like a passion project that can’t be satisfied.” 

“Attracted to fear?” Crane repeats slowly, though his face doesn’t change. 

“Fear is one of the most fascinating phenomena in the creation of our universe, don’t you think?” 

Dr. Crane regards you differently, his breath shifting to a new rhythm. He wets his lips before he answers, his words measured. 

“One could debate that. I’d say pleasure or desire are more complex and powerful. Why fear?” 

“It’s the power of control over both the mind and body,” you respond without batting an eye. 

“Is it power that fascinates you, Victoria?” Crane asks softly, his hands clenching and relaxing in his lap. “One could say that pleasure can have a similar effect.” 

You allow yourself to blush, knowing it’ll look more believable if you do. “Well, it’s also about control…” 

Dr. Crane looks down at his hands again and thinks for a moment before responding, his voice still calm and even despite the shift in the room. 

“Do you find control attractive?” 

“Well, don’t you? Isn’t that why you became a teacher? The role gives you control over the development of new minds,” you smile sweetly. 

A rare smirk creeps across Crane’s face. He looks up at you and puts his glasses back on, the silver frames catching the light of the fluorescent bulbs. 

“You’re very perceptive,” he trails off and folds his hands on the desk in front of him. “Control is a powerful and attractive aspect of fear.” 

“And what’s so fascinating about fear specifically is that it is universal. Everyone has something that they’re afraid of… even you. And that’s what led me to ask myself this question: what are you, Professor Crane, afraid of? And for the life of me, I can’t figure it out.” Your eyes meet his with an obvious change in intentionality. Crane doesn’t react but feels himself leaning forward slightly like a snake rearing its head.

“I have a few guesses but it doesn’t matter for right now,” you continue when he doesn’t respond. “I read your old thesis about fear in mammalian species and it’s given me a lot of insight into my own mind.” 

“You’ve read my thesis?” Dr. Crane cocks his brow again and grips his hands together painfully. His body goes cold in warning like a lightning rod in a thunderstorm. “Most of my students barely attend class, much less decide to read my work.” 

This is the moment. You lean forward slightly, your hair falling off your shoulders, your eyes wide with excitement. 

“Oh, I never said I was a student, Professor Crane.” 

Dr. Crane freezes, his cold heart stuttering in his chest. He swallows slowly, trying to collect his thoughts before he responds. 

“Then who, may I ask, are you?” 

“I attended one of your lectures on radical treatment of phobias, which is where we spoke for the first time, and yes, I did sit in on one of your classes and left with additional reading materials and a better appreciation for your work. Your thesis however,” you tilt your head away in a show of shyness, “that’s available for any ‘crazy’ to find.”

“Mmm so, you’re just a ‘crazy’ then?” Crane hums cooly, “But that still doesn’t answer how you managed to get a copy of my thesis. It was pulled from circulation and all hard copies that I was aware of were destroyed.” 

“I’m good at getting answers and it helps when people find you attractive…” you shift in your seat, looking away. You can feel Crane’s eyes on you as he considers your answer. 

“And I guess that means you think that I find you attractive?” Crane guesses cooly, his eyes not leaving your face. You look back at him and take note of his guarded expression. Taking a breath, you fix your hair and meet his eyes. 

“I think you’re attracted to my mind.” 

“Who are you?” He asks again, leaning closer against his better judgment, like a moth to the flame. 

“I’m surprised you’re so unconcerned with my presence here, late at night when everyone else has gone home…” your posture is rigidly still as you speak. Dr. Crane smirks softly. 

“You are a very beautiful and intelligent young woman, and you don’t look very dangerous to me. Why would I be concerned?” 

“Because I think I know what you’re afraid of, doc.” You whisper and Crane freezes again, his heart jumping in his chest at your thinly veiled threat. Despite his feelings of unease, Crane smiles. He studies your lips as you speak and the way your body is angled towards him. 

“And what is it that I’m afraid of?” 

And just like that, it’s become a game. 

You smile a little, wanting him to feel safe and comfortable. He isn't intimidated by you yet and you want him to take you seriously. You lean closer, ducking your head in a whisper. 

“Being found out…” 

“About what, pet?” Crane asks pointedly, in a challenging tone. 

“Well…,” you sit back in your chair casually and tuck your hair behind your ears. “I’ve always had a natural inclination towards crime. That’s what made me become a detective. I thought what I wanted was to restore justice in Gotham, but I’ve quickly learned that justice is a jealous mistress and maybe my interest in crime has other motives… Are you following me so far?” 

Dr. Crane massages his mouth with his hand, listening intently. His lips are pursed beneath his fingers, his eyes void of any telling secrets. 

“So far,” he sighs. 

“You and I share something very important. It’s made us both who we are today. I just realized it before you did.” 

“Oh? And what do you think we share?” He furrows his brow skeptically. 

You stand and brush the hem of your dress over your thighs. As Crane watches you, you trail a finger over the books on your bookshelf, stopping at one and pretending to read one of the pages. 

“Thomas Wayne.” 

You toss the book in front of him on the desk. The book is open to the author bio. It’s a picture of your parents, the authors of a book on criminal psychology. The Arkhams.

"These are my parents. My name was Victoria Vale when I was born. Thomas Wayne murdered them and they put me in an orphanage. I didn’t know they were my parents until I started looking into the Waynes. And then I found you…” You keep your story short and to-the-point, not wanting to reveal too much. Dr. Crane looks between the photo and you, his brow furrowed as he works it all out in his head. Maybe for the first time in his life, he finds himself speechless. 

“So you really are crazy, aren’t you, pet?” He covers the shaky tone of his voice with a sneer. You ignore him and close the book, pushing it aside on the desk. 

“Tell me, what did Thomas Wayne do to you?” 

Dr. Crane looks up at you and scoffs. He removes his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and his thumb until the pressure between his eyes fades. 

“And why would I tell you that?” 

“Because I already know the answer, I’m just giving you the opportunity to say it.” You lean against the bookshelf and cross your arms over your chest. Dr. Crane regards you with suspicion and shakes his head. 

“You’re bluffing.” 

“Am I?” You bite back. You stare at each other, eyes narrowed and blood pumping. Dr. Crane finally sighs through his nose and puts his glasses back on. His eyes bore into you, punishing you for asking him this question. He holds your gaze with a mixture of pain, bitterness and cold rage. He speaks as if the words are acid in his mouth.

“Thomas Wayne destroyed my family and my childhood. He was a ruthless and cruel man and I’m glad he’s dead.” 

You stare back at him and notice the original tension between you changing, shifting as your power shifts. 

“Then we’re kindred spirits, you and I. It was only a matter of time until I found you, the famous criminal psychiatrist with-” You lean over the desk, looking directly into his eyes,” startling blue eyes.” You take a breath before continuing, not waiting for him to respond. 

“Because I’m a good detective, not like any of my ignorant male peers, I looked into a string of unusual robberies and I noticed that most of Falcone’s men were being moved to Arkham Asylum… on your orders.” 

Crane is silent for a moment, impressed by your intelligence and deduction. He feels his heart starting to pound a little faster again. He does not deny it, but doesn’t confirm your suspicions either. 

“I may have had some influence in those transfers.” 

“Don’t worry, Crane, I’m not here to cause trouble for you. I just wanted to meet the man I’ve admired for so long and see if I can be of some… help.” You smile and pass your fingers over the research papers organized across the desk. You’re catching him off guard on how well you know him and he can’t tell if he likes it or not. His eyes flick across your face again, taking in the sight of your dark eyes and darker eyelashes. 

“You admire me?” 

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

“How does a young, beautiful girl like yourself become so interested in a man like me?” Then he pauses and wets his lips before adding with a smirk, “why, exactly, do you admire me?”

“Your work, it’s impressive. And what can I say… ” You look back up at him with a serious look on your face as you drag a finger across the research papers, pulling out a piece of scratch paper. “I like your style.” 

On the corner of the paper, there is a drawing of a scarecrow. You drag it slowly across the desk until it sits in front of Crane on the desk. You don’t need to say anything else. He looks down at the drawing, swallows, then looks up at you. 

“Stop acting dumb, doc. I know more than you think. Like I said, I’m good at finding information and sticking my nose into places where it may not belong.” 

Crane’s pulse quickens at the edge in your voice, his fingers reaching for and clutching the paper tightly. He wants to be irritated, but somehow you’re bringing out a different, a darker and playful part of him. 

“Once again, you’ve proven yourself to be a very observant and talented young woman. Maybe too talented. I think you’re too dangerous to keep around my office, Miss Vale. You’re a liability.” 

“What are you going to do to me, Crane? Are you going to use your… little fear toxin on me?” You smile, leaning further across the desk where Crane hasn’t moved from his seat. He looks up at you, smirking slyly. 

“Maybe I will.” Dr. Crane starts to stand, and when he does, he’s taller than you but not by much. He isn’t a very tall man, you could easily take him if you needed to. You’re still separated by the desk but you’re close enough to smell his cologne. 

“Impressed by my skills of deduction?” You ask, clasping your hands behind your back. 

Crane walks slowly around his desk to stand in front of you, looking you up and down intently. He tilts his head to the side, his voice distant and distracted. 

“More than a little impressed, yes. You’ve figured out an awful lot about me in a very short time.”

“Now don’t you want to know why I’m here? Your survival instincts are annoyingly slow, Crane,” you tease. 

Crane bristles, displeased with your slight to his intelligence. He crosses his arms over his chest and sits back against the desk, clenching his jaw. “I would love to know why you’re here. You’ve been very coy about that point.” 

You nod and move away from him to continue looking at the books, organized meticulously on the bookshelf. “I have a proposition for you. I want to be… business partners.” You can see Crane watching you from out of the corner of your eye. Crane chuckles a little, stunned. 

“Business partners, huh? And what exactly would that entail?” 

Crane’s eyes sweep over your figure again as he imagines what kind of ‘business partners’ he’d want to be. 

“I’ll help you with your grand plan for Gotham and in return I get two things…” you keep your eyes on the spines, your fingers following the edges of each book. 

“Mm?” Crane hums, listening carefully now that you have his full attention. 

“1. I get to lead beside you when you successfully turn Gotham upside down and 2. I get what’s rightfully mine… Arkham Asylum.” You turn back to look at him, refusing to be intimidated by him even when he looks at you like something he’d like to eat. 

Crane’s eyes widen and he almost starts to laugh. His navel warms, aroused by your attitude and threats. He chuckles softly and moves his hands to grip the desk on either side of his body. 

“Gotham city flipped upside down, and Arkham Asylum in your hands. Your terms are surprisingly bold, Miss Vale.” 

“What can I say, Crane? I’m in the business of retribution.” You shrug, not backing down. 

Crane chuckles again and shakes his head, “Touché.” He imagines himself pinning you against the bookshelf and feels himself get hard just at the thought of it. He watches you closely, noticing your unwavering resolve. “And how can you be sure I won’t use my toxin on you?”

It’s your turn to laugh now. You smile and step closer to him, meeting his cool eyes. You let your eyes look him up and down, admiring the way his lean body hides beneath his expensive suit. 

“I’ve prepared for that possibility… but I like playing with fire.” You pull a lighter out from your pocket and strike a flame. It glows between your faces.

Crane smiles in amusement at your audacity then his eyes dart between your face and the flame separating the two of you. 

“You are playing a dangerous game, Miss Vale.” 

“My favorite,” you respond coolly and play with the flame in your hand. Crane’s eyes follow the flame and he swallows. “So? What say you?” 

He should stop you, he should kick you out of his office and ignore you, but the fire in your eyes and the confidence in your words makes him want to take a risk. He reaches out quickly and takes hold of your chin, tilting your face up so that he can see it clearly. His voice is a low whisper.

“You’re a dangerous little thing, aren’t you?”

“Oh, you have no idea.” You snap the lighter closed and tuck it into Crane’s breast pocket. “Regards from Thomas Wayne. I thought you should have it.” 

Crane looks down at the lighter, dropping his hand away from your chin. His eyes dart back to your face, assessing the weight of your words. Your demeanor is cold and almost amused. Crane swallows, his skin growing cold where the lighter now sits. 

“Where did you get this, Miss Vale?”

“Not only do I want what’s rightfully mine, you deserve what they took from you too. Think of this as my promise and a peace offering.” You pat his breast pocket, your face getting dangerously close to his. He flinches when you touch him and clenches his jaw. He looks down to your hand patting his pocket and raises a sharp brow. 

“And you’re willing to help me get my revenge?” 

“It would be mine too.” 

“Against Thomas Wayne?” 

“Against the whole city… but especially the Waynes.” You whisper, managing to take a step closer. Crane chuckles, admiring the way your eyes darken when you speak so severely. He leans down a little closer to your ear, his breath ruffling your hair. 

“A pretty, vengeful vixen. I’m starting to like you, Miss Vale.” 

“Now, now, now-” You push him back with a sly smile, your teeth showing, “We’re business partners, not fuck buddies. You’ll need to behave yourself if you want to make this work.” 

Crane actually laughs, though the sound is raspy and dark, it’s still a laugh. He allows you to push him back and holds up his hands in mock surrender, sitting back on the edge of his desk. 

“Feisty. Ok, I’ll play the part. No need to worry, Miss Vale… though the thought is… tempting.”

“Not intoxicating? I’ll just have to try harder next time,” you smile as you pull on your coat from the chair. Dr. Crane watches you from his desk, his eyes following your arms as you slide into the quilted coat. 

“Oh you know exactly how intoxicating you are. Don’t be coy, Miss Vale.” 

“Maybe I’m just a Jack of All Trades,” you shrug and move to the door. Crane crosses his arms over his chest again and nods slowly. 

“Yes, I’m starting to see that now. You’re full of surprises.” He can’t help but look you up and down again, his eyes lingering on the shape of your thighs or the angular way you hold your head. He wets his lips, wetting his pallet. 

“Well, here’s another one,” you smile, fully aware of his arousal, “Falcone was taken into custody today. Someone, and I’m not saying who, may have given him a razor blade. He’ll need a psych evaluation and you need to be the one to do it. I don’t trust him to keep his mouth shut if this goes to trial.” 

Crane raises an eyebrow, impressed by your thoroughness. 

“Falcone in custody. Hmm. A razor blade? What a coincidence...” he starts to wonder exactly how far you’re willing to take this revenge of yours. He can feel himself getting excited in more ways than one. 

“You’ve got the right idea, Miss Vale. I’d be more than happy to take over his evaluation.”

“Good. I’ll arrange for you to administer it between your lectures. You’re such a busy man. Professor by day, psychopath by night. I don’t know how you do it.” 

“I’ve made a lot of sacrifices,” he answers cooly, calmly, “As have you, it seems.” 

Something passes between you, something shifts once again in your eyes. 

“Goodnight, Dr. Crane.”  

You start to leave but turn around briefly to speak, your eyes growing softer. You’re actually capable of feelings too, not just well-worded threats. “Don’t lose the lighter… it’s the one he used…” 

You leave the sentence in the air between you, hoping he’ll understand what you mean. Dr. Crane seems to freeze again as he processes what you’re saying. He puts his hand against his breast pocket to feel the outline of the lighter. He clenches his jaw and finally nods. 

“Goodnight, Miss Vale.” 

You nod once and open the door, pushing against its heavy weight. 

“I’ll be in touch,” you say over your shoulder and Crane fixes his glasses. 

“I’m sure.”

Only when the door closes behind you and you’re walking down the dim hallway do you allow yourself to exhale. Dr. Crane was so much more impressive in person… and so much more attractive. You had almost faltered on your plans until you remembered how much you needed him, and how important it was that the two of you meet. Though you must admit, acting unbothered has never been harder. You run your hand through your hair and slip out of the science building on campus. You’re wearing a quilted coat, more for professionalism than warmth. It’s late Spring in Gotham and it’s too warm for a coat. In fact, there’s a heatwave coming in the next week. But you keep the coat on because the color is dark, helping you blend into the shadows of every building in the city. 

The moment the door closes, Crane finds himself almost unable to breathe. He’s nearly shaking and feels strangely off-balance like you’ve completely turned his world on its head. He walks back around his desk to his chair and slowly lowers himself into the seat. He exhales shakily and pinches the bridge of his nose above his glasses. Part of him wants you, the other part wants you gone. With a sigh, Crane pulls the lighter out of his pocket and places it on the desk, looking at it while his thoughts run wild. 

You hadn’t needed to say the words for him to piece it together: this was the lighter that Thomas Wayne used to kill his mother, and by extension, his father. The knowledge of what you’ve given him finally sinks in and he takes a deep breath, his jaw clenching again. He feels a cold shiver rush over him, a thousand thoughts running through his mind at once. He can’t tell if he wants to cry or scream or laugh. Crane reaches out and grabs the lighter, his knuckles turning white. He thinks of you, of your audacity to crash his carefully constructed life with your own plans of revenge. He plays with the lighter, his lips pulled into an unhappy snarl. But the longer he thinks about you, the more he feels himself growing to like you. As much trouble as you could cause him, he liked how fast you thought on your feet and how good you looked in that dress. 

Hours seem to pass before he can slowly regain control of himself enough to clear his head a little. He’s trying to understand you… he wants to trust you but there’s a very loud part of his mind that’s screaming not to. He can’t deny the fact that you’ve completely enthralled him, in fact, the thought of seeing you again makes his heart pound in perverse excitement. He tosses the lighter back on the desk and runs a hand over his face. 

“Damn you…"

[cece693]

Painted Devotion

pairing: the joker x male reader tags: male reader is a hero, joker is infatuated with you, no joker used in mind, the thought is there

The moment the SWAT team hauls him away, you think this is finally over—until you hear that cackling laugh echo through the paddy wagon window.

A few days pass. You immerse yourself in your usual hero duties—cleaning up small-time heists, taking down petty thugs. But it doesn’t escape your notice that you almost miss the Joker’s particular brand of chaos. There was something in his eyes that day, a wild, obsessive affection that went beyond the typical villain-hero dynamic.

You’re patrolling a dingy back alley near the Bowery when it happens again. A security guard from the Gotham Museum of Contemporary Art is doubled over, reeling from a sudden gas attack. The faint green haze around him makes your stomach churn; you’d know that Joker toxin anywhere. Instantly, your heart pounds. He’s out. He’s free. Or worse—this is part of his elaborate scheme to bait you again.

You slip into the museum through a shattered stained-glass window. The corridors are dim, silent except for your footsteps. Then you see it: a large neon sign mounted on the marble statue of the museum’s founder. The sign reads: “You hardly come to see me. So I brought my exhibit to YOU!” in swirling, chaotic letters. Around the base of the statue are clown-faced mannequins, each posing with various “Joker merchandise”—fake bombs, painted roses, over-sized playing cards.

A voice croons from above: “Hero? Heeeero, come out, come out, wherever you are…”

The Joker drops down from a second-floor balcony, landing with a theatrical flourish. He’s practically bouncing on his toes, as though he’s been waiting for this moment all night.

“Oh, I knew you’d show,” he says, a desperate glee flickering across his painted face. “After all, you always do. But you sure are taking your sweet time.” He adjusts his lapels, letting out a comically offended huff.

You glance around, searching for hostages or bombs. But surprisingly, you see none. Just the Joker, grinning from ear to ear, his eyes crinkled in a mix of frustration and delight.

He points a gloved finger at you, wagging it like a scolding parent. “I heard you had a run-in with…oh, what’s-his-name…Candlefly? Firefly? Some lesser insect who tried to torch a warehouse? He barely even had to set a building ablaze, and poof, you came running! Meanwhile, your dear Joker?” He clutches his heart, feigning heartbreak. “I have to pull the entire Gotham Philharmonic into a fish tank, or blow up half the Arkham library just to get you to glance my way!”

Stepping closer, you notice he’s trembling, excitement layered with genuine distress. It’s disturbing how you can practically feel his longing crackling in the air.

“Haven’t you been getting my letters?” he whines. “I’ve poured out my heart on stationery that cost a fortune! And that last ‘little gift’… you didn’t even thank me.” He pouts, lip jutting out like a petulant child. “Don’t you know how to accept a token of affection, or do I need to teach you some manners?”

Your brows furrow, keeping your guard up. “This isn’t how you show affe—”

He cuts you off with a playful stomp, then does an overdramatic twirl. “Oh, don’t you lecture me on love, hero! I try so hard. You ignore me, but you still find time for these losers instead of your dear Joker!” He narrows his eyes, voice wavering between mania and heartbreak. “It’s humiliating, you know.”

Despite the dangerous situation, you feel a twinge of pity. His feelings—warped though they are—seem undeniably genuine.

You stand your ground, trying to quell the swirl of sympathy. “Joker, people are getting hurt because of these stunts. Whatever…feelings you have, it doesn’t justify—”

“Feelings?” His manic grin twists into a desperate smile. “Oh, I have more than feelings, dear. I’m infatuated. Smitten. I want to see that lovely expression of shock on your face whenever I pop into your life. Isn’t that romantic?” He sighs dreamily, then cocks his head. “Don’t you like being wanted?”

Your jaw tightens. You can’t let him get under your skin. Instead, you try to see if he’s rigged the museum with explosives; it’d be typical Joker. You subtly shift your gaze, looking for signs.

He notices immediately. “Looking for bombs, are we?” he snickers. “No bombs this time. No guns. Just me.” A faltering grin paints his face. “I wanted to talk. Really talk. Because if I have to blow up another building to get your attention, well…” He shrugs, glancing away with an exaggerated wave of his hand. “I will, but I’d prefer not to. I want you all to myself, without those distractions.”

He slinks forward until there’s scarcely a foot between you. His gloved hand stretches out, almost daring to brush your chest.

“Is it really so hard to drop by Arkham for a chat? Maybe we could schedule a…date.” He laughs, though there’s desperation woven into his tone. “But no, you’re too busy chasing every nobody in Gotham. I suppose I’m just…unremarkable to you.”

He pouts again—really hamming it up—his voice taking on a whiny edge. “You don’t love me. You only show up out of obligation. It’s not fair.” You swallow hard. The tension is suffocating, a bizarre blend of comedic theatrics and real heartbreak. You have no illusions about his capacity for violence, but that undercurrent of raw longing is shaking your resolve.

“You can’t keep doing this,” you finally manage. “People are scared, Joker. They’re terrified. And you’re not giving me a choice but to respond.”

He giggles, shoulders bouncing. “Precisely! That’s the point, my dashing do-gooder! If the only way to see that handsome face of yours is to threaten the entire city, then so be it. I’ll do whatever it takes, because I— I— oh, you’ll laugh at me if I say it.”

He claps a hand over his face, peeking at you through splayed fingers. The sight would be comical if it weren’t so chilling. You stand there, arms tense at your sides, waiting for the next shoe to drop.

A moment later, he sighs heavily, dropping his hand. “But I have to say it: I love you, you stubborn, noble idiot! There! Now it’s out, for heaven’s sake. Laugh, scream, do what you want.” He throws his arms up, voice cracking with frustration. “But don’t you dare run off to fight some C-lister while I’m locked away again. I won’t stand for it, do you hear me? I won’t stand for it!”

As if on cue, the sirens outside begin wailing, bright red and blue lights swirling through the museum windows. The GCPD. They’ve arrived, no doubt alerted to the disturbance. Joker glances at the lights, then back at you, his expression torn between amusement and disappointment.

He exhales a broken laugh, lifting his hands in a theatrical surrender. “I guess our rendezvous is over.” He twists around, letting the cops see him, raising his arms as they enter. But even as the officers draw near, weapons trained, his attention remains locked on you.

Your mind spins with everything unsaid, everything you never dreamed you’d hear from the Clown Prince of Crime. He meets your gaze once more, a faint scowl on his lips.

“Next time,” he murmurs, “maybe you’ll come of your own accord.” He tilts his head, his voice turning whiny again. “Because I’m so sick of having to go through all. This. Trouble.”

The cops close in, cuffing his outstretched hands. Joker doesn’t protest; he simply grins—a delirious mixture of sadness and triumph. As they pull him away, he lets out a manic giggle, calling over his shoulder:

“I’ll be waiting, my sweet hero. I’ll keep sending gifts— and next time, you won’t ignore me, will you?”

The museum falls silent, the Joker’s cackle fading into the background as he’s led outside. Part of you is relieved it’s over. Another part knows it won’t ever truly be over—because for the Joker, you’re not just a heroic rival. You’re an obsession, a twisted muse, the one he can’t bear to be without… even if he has to destroy Gotham to make you come running.

[damianwaynesbelovedsposts]

jon: damian, you’re fine just be yourself.

damian: be myself? jon, i have one day to win over y/n parents. how long did it take for you guys to start liking me?.

y/n: couple weeks.

jason: six months.

tim: jury’s still out.

damian: see, jon? “be myself” what kinda of garbage advice is that?

requests are open!