#I just know Dick bangs his head against a wall whenever Bruce starts his shit up

[comics-centalx]

Just batbros being brothers and vibing over how Bruce is being a diva

All jokes aside, though, I love how Dick is telling Tim what he needed to hear back when he was Robin but never got to hear.

[aliteralchicken]

Nah for real all jokes aside I just know Dick is banging his head against a wall whenever Bruce starts his shit up again

honestly if I was Tim and once again batman started doing his reckless anger move but this time it was because he was just in a divorce arc I’d just tell him to stay out of the marina and then fuck off back to my little murder shack

[psychovigilantewrites]

Baby Bird- Rewrite

Pairing: Jason Todd/Reader

Genre: SMUT

Word count:  5296

Summary: This is a rewrite of my first ever fic! I didn’t really incorporate the whole Baby Bird thing in this one, and i did change a lot of it, though the story is still very similar to each other. I’m pretty proud of it! Let me know what you guys think!

You can find the original on my Masterlist

Read it on Ao3

Kofi

You had a relatively good relationship with most of your brothers.

You loved watching rom-coms with Dick when you both got the time, and he was always there to lend you an ear. He was the first person whom you truly loved unconditionally, as he brought you out of your shell when Bruce first found you and took you in.

Tim was a bit harder, but mostly because he was shy. You didn’t really have many things in common with Tim except that the both of you were more business savvy than the rest. The two of you were the main attractions during Wayne Enterprises’ functions, and you would even share projects together.

Damian was a tough nut to crack, but after he came in, it only took you a couple months before he started showing you that he didn’t mind you. Scratch that- you were pretty sure that you were his favorite. Everyone else treated him like he wanted to be treated, an adult. But you maintained a perfect balance of shaking his hand business-like when you meet him, and spoiling him with hugs and kisses he pretends to hate.

You never had brothers before, but you were sure that the ones you had now were as perfect as brothers could ever be.

But then there was Jason.

You didn’t see him as someone you loved brotherly, someone you relied on, or someone you shared hugs and kisses with. That’s because for some reason, he hated you.

Well, hate was a strong word. Maybe he just really disliked you.

In fact- he disliked you so much that he would try to avoid you as much as possible. You tried so hard to get on his good side. Read the same books he did just so you could have something to talk about, even took his side whenever he argued with the boys or Bruce.

In which he would respond with a gruff “I don’t need your help.”

You were at a loss. All you wanted was to be close to him. Maybe cuddle up with him on the sofa, leaning against his hard body. Maybe feel his large, thick, magnificent hands resting on your thigh whenever he sat next to you during dinners. Maybe brush your lips against his chapped, pink-

Whatever his problem was, it made you frustrated.

***

“Where are you going?” Jason glared at you from the living room. He was lying down on the sofa with his feet up, peeking at you from behind his book.

You blinked your eyes in surprise. He hardly ever initiated conversation with you. Perhaps he was finally warming up to you? You tried to hide your smile as you walked closer to him from the staircase.

“I’m going to see someone,” you answered and smiled sweetly at him, trying your best not to agitate him in any way.

“Who?” he frowned, sitting upright.

You tried to hide your surprise again. Two questions in a row? He must be in a good mood.

“Uhm, Ray,” you replied, “We take the same class in college.”

“Why are you wearing that?” he shot a dirty look.

This time, you frowned and looked down at yourself. You were only wearing a tight baby doll t-shirt with a skater skirt that went up to your mid-thigh.

“Uh, I always wear stuff like this,” you told him.

“No, you don’t,” he narrowed his eyes at you, judging you from top to bottom.

You felt a bit offended. Was he really questioning your sense in fashion?

You wanted to bite back, but refrained from doing so. You really didn’t want to get even further on his bad side.

“You’re right,” you forced a grin, “Maybe my choice in fashion tonight is a bit odd. I think I’ll change my sneakers to flats. What do you think?”

“It’s not the shoes,” he rolled his eyes, “Whatever. Do what you want.”

And he went back to his book.

You stood there in silence, mouth slightly ajar, confused as to what happened. Before you could gather your thoughts and say something, your phone rang.

“That’s me,” you announced, “I’m going now.”

Jason didn’t answer.

***

The date went well. Ray was a cute guy. His olive eyes complimented his tanned skin, his chestnut hair falling in soft locks around his sharp, angular face. He was polite as well, even walking you up to the door from his car.

“I had a good time, Ray, thank you,” you giggled, slightly buzzed from the cocktails he bought you.

“Me too,” he smiled, flashing a set of perfect white teeth. “You look so pretty tonight, did I mention that?”

“Yes, like five times,” you laughed, slapping his chest. “I’m glad you think so. My brother basically snorted at my fashion choice.”

“What, this skirt?” he widened his eyes, pulling you closer by the waist. “This skirt drove me crazy all night.”

“Your damn flirting drove me crazy all night,” you purred, snaking your arms behind his neck.

“I’ve been thinking of kissing you,” he admitted, his voice turning low. “Can I kiss you?”

You didn’t reply. Instead, you tiptoed and crashed your lips against his, eliciting a deep and guttural moan from him. His hands slid from your waist down to your ass, bunching up your skirt with every squeeze.

Suddenly, he was gone.

You blinked a couple of times before realising what had happened.

“Get the fuck off her,” you heard a familiar snarl.

Jason had ripped Ray off from you, causing him to stumble backwards. You were speechless, mouth gaping like a fish out of water.

“Jason!” you hissed, “Ray, I’m so sorry. This is my brother, Jason.”

“Yeah, I figured,” he chuckled nervously.

“Adoptive brother,” he corrected you.

That made your chest tighten.

“Ray is my date tonight,” you told Jason, ignoring his previous statement, “He was just saying goodbye.”

“Well?” Jason crossed his arms, “Say goodbye, then.”

“Uh, it’d be nice if we had some privacy,” you tried to tell him.

“No,” he simply stated, looking straight at Ray as if sizing him up, daring him to do something.

“Jason-���

“Get scarce, or I’ll break your jaw,” he growled.

“O-okay,” Ray surrendered, “Going now. Bye, I guess.”

And he half walked half ran to his car without waiting for your answer.

You just watched him silence as he drove off, and then turned to Jason angrily.

“What the hell was that?” you barked, shoving him aside to enter the manor.

“He had his hands all over you,” he replied coldly.

“So?” you argued, “I’m an adult, Jason. I can sleep around with guys if I want to.”

You thought you saw his jaw clench.

“You can’t,” he grit.

“Excuse me?”

“You. Can’t,” he repeated.

Now, you know Jason had some anger problems, what with the Pit and daddy issues and all that. And you have seen him throw his tantrums. Whether it was breaking chairs, or beating people up. If you lived with Jason Peter Todd, you knew how destructive he could be.

And you knew it wasn’t his fault. You knew that he was constantly trying to be better, which was why he moved back into the manor in the first place. To be with family, hoping that the company and care and attention would help his mental state.

Yet, against all your inner voices screaming at you to stop, against all you rationality, you couldn’t help but provoke him even more, because you were just fucking sick and tired with him treating you like shit when you had tried so hard to be nice to him.

“All this while you refuse to acknowledge me as your sister, you ignore me, push me away, fucking criticize my choice of clothes,” you seethed, “And now you’re telling me that I can’t do whatever the fuck I want with my own body?”

“You can do whatever you want,” he replied, “I just won’t let you.”

“Let me?” you repeated, “Let me?! Who the fuck are you? Because you’re obviously trying very hard to not be my brother!”

“Fucking hell, listen to yourself!” he groaned, “Spouting all this brother, sister crap! I know you try your goddamn best to fill whatever void you have with this family shit, but you want to know the hard and honest truth?”

He stalked towards you, jaw set and mouth in a thin line before leaning in close and saying the harsh words in a dead voice, “I will never think of you as my sister.”

Your breath stuttered then. If it was any other situation, it would have been because he was so close to you that you could feel his warm breath on your face. But this time, it was because you were trying hard to force back the tears into your eyes.

Did he really hate you that much?

Instead of asking him that direct question, you tested his patience even more.

“Just because your own mother betrayed you, doesn’t mean the rest of the world will,” you lashed out, “But you know what? I can see why she did it.”

And you regretted every single word you said the moment it came out of your mouth.

You saw Jason’s expression change, from the stable frustration before, into a flash of white hot anger. He was shaking, his nose flaring, his hands in fists.

“I- I-” you stuttered, “I didn’t mean-”

Before you registered what had happened, you jumped when you heard a loud bang!

In the raging anger he felt, Jason punched a large crack into the old wooden wall of the mansion, and then stormed off, kicking a vase down in the process of walking up the stairs. The final noise you heard from Jason was his door slamming shut.

Fuck.

You were a horrible person for saying that. The guilt crept in as you realised how harsh your words were.

Well, it wasn’t like he was nice to you either.

Still, he didn’t stoop so low as to bring up your painful past and use it against you.

Sighing, you argued with yourself in your head as you walked up the staircase to go to your own room. Jason’s room was just down the hall from yours, and you hesitated in front of your room, considering that maybe you should go and apologize.

With a deep breath, you head over to his door and raised your knuckles to knock, but midway, just a split second before you hit the wood, you noticed that the door was open by a teeny tiny crack.

And a tired moan coming from inside.

You froze, fist still in the air, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights of a truck.

Another moan, and the sound of the springs of his bed creaking.

No. No, no, no, you weren’t supposed to be there. You weren’t supposed to be listening in on his private, intimate moment.

You felt a tingle between your thighs.

Fuck, and you most definitely were not supposed to get turned on either.

Yet, at the back of your head you couldn’t help but add this piece of information like you would a note on a calendar.

Jason Peter Todd jacked off when he was angry.

Your brain told you to run, because what you were doing was wrong, an invasion, perverted. But despite your rational thinking, your feet were still glued right in front of his door, ears hypersensitive, straining to pick up every sound you could.

You closed your eyes and breathed in deep. Okay. You recollected yourself. Now it was time to go and maybe release your frustrations in the same way- but in your own bed with your door locked.

But as soon as you made to move, something else held you back that made you lose all your senses.

Another moan coming from Jason’s room, but this time it was your name.

He moaned your name.

You froze on the spot then, morals thrown out the window, you carefully inched closer to the gap between the door, straining your ear even more.

“Fuck, fucking bitch, fuck,” he panted.

Jason wasn’t terribly loud, but it was obvious that he was trying to restrain himself from being too noisy. After all, you all lived in a house full of vigilantes with trained heightened senses.

Now you were scared of being heard, because though you were only listening in, you could feel your breaths getting heavier and heavier, not unlike Jason’s.

And you kept on listening.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed out loud, “Teasing people with that- hnngh- fucking skirt. Fuck!”

You accidentally let out a soft giggle, before clamping your palm against your mouth. You wanted to run away in fear that you were heard, but once you ran away, you knew you wouldn’t find it in you to come back and listen.

So you stayed your ground.

“Tight fucking shirt,” he continued, and you knew you were safe.

Huh.

Jason Peter Todd also liked to ramble while he jacked off.

At least now you knew why he hated your outfit so much. Who knew it was because he felt like he was being teased?

You were becoming more amused by the second, because hell- this was the guy who had his walls up so high, the same guy who refused to share anything remotely personal with anyone, and to see him crumble down and fuck his fist-

He let out a long, deep groan- and fuck.

Fuck.

Did the sounds of his cock get even wetter?

You needed to see him.

You decided to get on your hands and knees on the floor, thinking that standing up would cast more shadows and make it a bit more obvious that someone was outside the door listening in. So you crouched and tried to make yourself seem as small as possible.

You pushed the door very very lightly, hoping that the hinges didn’t creak.

Now you had a view of Jason, who was lying down on his back, his dark blue t-shirt riding up to his chest. Your eyes trailed down to the deep V that went down to his body, a small patch of his happy trail, his grey sweatpants hitched down to his knees, and his perfect, thick, swollen cock hard in his fist, glistening wet.

You sucked in a sharp breath at the view, feeling your panties getting soiled by the second.

Have you ever been that horny in your life? Probably not.

Jason was brutally fucking his fist, and fuck, even though the view was less than perfect because you were too scared to push the door open wider, you could see how fucking tight he was gripping his shaft.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathed, “Wanna fuck you so bad.”

The rustling of his movements, the heavy stuttering breathing, the slick sounds.

You tried to resist, you really did.

But then, he raised his palm to his mouth and fucking spat onto it loudly, fucking filthily before going back down to continue.

That’s it. You couldn’t take it anymore.

You lifted up your skirt and pushed your panties aside, sliding a finger in between your folds and biting your lip so you don’t moan.

So you don’t run inside his room and beg him to take you right then and there.

Your eyes travelled back up to his face and was hardly surprised to see that he didn’t exactly look like he was pleasuring himself.

His eyes were shut tight, his eyebrows stitched together, his expression in an angry scowl, occasionally biting his lower lip, occasionally parted to take in deep breaths, occasionally whispering your name.

He looked furious as he stroked his cock.

“Fucking Christ,” he rasped, “Wanna fuck. Wanna fuck you. Fuck.”

And of course Jason Peter Todd would take the Lord’s name in vain while he had his dick in his hand.

What was wrong with your brain? The man was technically confessing that he wanted to fuck you in depraved growls, for fuck’s sake. Why were you focusing on the stupid little details?

Like how long has it been since he started? Did he immediately take off his pants and start masturbating right after your fight, the minute he slammed the door shut, while you were downstairs wallowing in guilt?

Kinky son of a bitch.

You started rubbing circles on your clit, feeling the shoot of pleasure spread in your body, heightening your heart rate even more.

If he really did jerk off right after your fight, does that mean he does it every time he got angry?

You added a note at the back of your head again: Make Jason Peter Todd angry more often.

Fuck, but didn’t that mean he had been going at it for awhile now? Was he going to come soon?

You resisted a groan that almost escaped your lips at the thought of being able to see him spurt his cum on his washboard abs.

You picked up the pace of your own, matching it to Jason’s.

But your back and knees were getting kind of sore already, so you tried to shift around a bit. In that process, you lost your balance. And to regain your balance, your unoccupied hand went straight for the door.

And accidentally pushed it open, stumbling into his room.

“What the fuck!” you heard him gasp.

You froze on the spot, your hand still down your skirt, making eye contact with Jason who was already standing up, cock tucked back in his sweatpants- though that didn’t make a difference because phew, a hard dick in a pair of grey sweatpants was a sight.

You cleared your head and scrambled back to your feet, heart thumping loudly and face heating up at the embarrassment of being caught.

“Uh- I- uh- I thought of saying sorry,” you panicked, “And uh- I didn’t- I didn’t hear- see! Ididn’tseeanythingsorrybye-”

You turned to run away, to lock yourself up in your room and never ever come out. You didn’t even see Jason cross the room and snatch your wrist, pulling you inside and closing the door behind you.

He had you against the door now, his grip on your wrist tight, his body just inches away from yours and god you wanted to feel his hard on against you.

“I think,” you started, “I think you broke the lock when you slammed the door hard. It’s okay I’m sure Alfred can-”

“Why are your fingers wet?” he asked in a low voice.

“Wha?”

You noticed that the hand he was gripping was the one you were using to touch yourself, and he was gripping it high up to his face.

You gulped.

“I was just- uh- washing!” you rambled, “I was washing my hands and didn’t dry them off. Oopsie daisy.”

You let out a nervous laugh, but then was cut short when Jason tilted his face towards your wrist, his nose touching and breathing onto your skin. He took a deep breath, smelling your hand as he travelled from the fleshy part below your thumb up to your two wet fingers.

You clenched your thighs.

“Washing, were you?” he smirked, his eyes hooded and dark.

“Mhmm,” you nodded furiously.

He closed his eyes and continued smelling your fingers.

What the fuck?

Then, and you admit that a piece of you died a little and went to heaven at that point, he let out a small lick at the tip of your index finger.

And fucking groaned, the kind of groan the reverberated back into your bones, the kind of groan that made you feel everything he was feeling.

Your brain basically short-circuited.

When you thought that he couldn’t get any hotter, and any more embarrassing, he took your whole two fingers into his mouth.

Your jaw dropped.

He started sucking on your fingers, his eyes now opened and staring at you intensely, and fuck you could feel his tongue swirling on your fingers, wet and hot and desperate.

“Jason,” you breathed.

He let your fingers out with a pop, and the released your hand.

“Touch yourself,” he instructed.

And you weren’t going to fucking argue with that.

You hiked your skirt up, pushed your panties aside again, and with the fingers that had just been in his mouth, you started rubbing your clit.

Your mouth fell into a little “O”, and Jason?

Jason just watched.

With his breathing hard, his warm breath fanning across your face, he didn’t even look down to where you were touching. No, he just stared deep into your eyes as you continued.

Then, he rested his forehead against yours and let out a soft moan. You heard rustling again, and you looked down, and saw him fisting his cock near your lower belly, as you kept on going at your clit.

“Oh my god, fuck,” you looked up at him, breaths mingling with each other, tips of your noses brushing against one another, as you both touched yourselves.

“You made me angry, baby,” he purred, his other hand going up to cradle the back of your head.

You watched as his thick biceps flexed and rippled as he jerked his fist.

It was funny to you. Just a few minutes ago, he told you that he would never think of you as his sister, and now here he was calling you baby.

Oh. Oh.

Boy, were you stupid.

“Do you always masturbate when you’re angry?” you whispered.

“Sometimes,” he breathed back.

“I just made a mental reminder to make you angry more,” you told him.

“Hmm?” he smirked, “And why would you do that?”

“So I can spy on you,” you blurted.

Jason chuckled the hottest fucking chuckle you’ve ever heard. “You don’t need to spy on me. All you gotta do is ask.”

“But,” you argued mid-wanking, “That takes the fun out of everything.”

“Oh, really?” he said, taking steps back.

His fist kept on going non-stop while he walked backwards towards his bed, and you didn’t notice it before, but his pants were completely gone.

He walked until his knees hit the edge of the bed, and then he sat down, all the while never stopping his strokes.

“So you think this,” to make a point, he started fucking his cock faster and harder for a bit, “Isn’t fun?”

You didn’t understand how someone could be so hot.

“Okay, fine,” you conceded, leaning back against the door because you were worried your knees were going to go out anytime, “You’re right.”

“Of course I am,” he scoffed, “Comere.”

“There?” you hesitated, suddenly nervous at his invitation.

Even in the midst of horny bliss, you suddenly remembered that Jason was never close to you. You didn’t know a thing about him, and you never really connected.

“Yeah,” he frowned, his fist stilling, “Unless you don’t want to.”

“No!” you hurriedly said, “I do. God, trust me, I do. But it’s just…”

“But?”

“I always thought you hated me, Jason,” you stopped your fingers as well, standing upright, “I don’t want this to be a one time thing, and then you go back to hating me.”

“I don’t hate you,” he shook his head in surprise, “I never hated you.”

“Really? Because somehow I find that hard to believe.”

“Look,” he sighed, “The reason why I was so mean to you is because I didn’t know how to act around you. And being mean was the only thing I know how to do. But I never hated you. It’s the opposite, in fact.”

“You like me?” you asked, hopeful.

“Sure I do,” he shrugged nonchalantly, but you noticed his ears slowly turning pink.

“Wow.”

“What?”

“I never imagined that Jason Peter Todd would tell me he liked me while he was sitting on his bed without any pants,” you giggled.

“You wanna come here or not?” he huffed.

You smiled and walked over to him, stopping right in front of him, between his opened thighs. You looked down into his eyes, blue and fierce, and always so intense. He took off his shirt, so he was there, right there, in all his naked glory.

“Take off your clothes,” he murmured.

You didn’t know what to say back except to just do what he had instructed you to do. So you firstly peeled off your tight baby doll shirt, and then slid down your skirt.

What do you know, you thought you noticed him gulping.

“All of it, sweetheart,” he demanded, “I want to see all of you.”

You nodded, and reached behind to unhook your bra, letting your breasts fall. You saw Jason’s immediate change in expression. His jaw went slack, and was looking at you in awe. You were just going to slip down your panties until-

“Too slow,” he said, and then gripped you by the waist and threw you onto the bed on your back.

He immediately went to attack your breasts, sucking and biting and nipping onto your nipple, pinching the other one with his free hand, squeezing and tugging.

“Jason,” you moaned, his warm tongue drawing circles on your nipples. He travelled further below, leaving a trail of opened mouth kisses on your skin.

And finally he reached the place you wanted him to be at the most, his hot breath hovering over your panties. He proceeded to start licking your folds over them, drenching your already wet panties even more with his mouth.

He continued to mouth at your core, teasing you with occasional nips, but never directly stimulating your clit.

He was good at driving a girl crazy in more ways than one.

“Jason,” you whined, “More.”

“More?” he smirked.

“Yes, stop teasing,” you complained.

He laughed and pulled your panties down swiftly, but he didn’t go back in between your thighs, where you arguably thought he belonged.

He came up to you and kissed you deeply, for the first time. He sucked on your lower lip, playing at the entrance of your mouth with the tip of his tongue, prodding but never really entering.

Unfortunately, he was also doing the same with his cock.

You had your legs spread as wide as they could, presenting yourself to him, yet there he was still teasing you by pushing up his tip against your entrance, but then going to your clit to circle on it, and then brushing down your slick folds to tease you some more.

“Now you know how I feel when you wear those short skirts out,” he growled against your lips, “Fucking cock tease.”

“They weren’t even that short,” you pouted.

“If I can get glimpses of your panties when you bend down, then they’re short,” he argued back, “God, the things you do to me.”

He went to your neck to suck on the delicate skin, no doubt leaving marks to be questioned by everyone in the morning.

“Y-y-you,” you stuttered into a sigh when he started tapping his cock against your clit, “Your arms are nice.”

Stupid, stupid.

He burst into laughter, muffling himself using the crook of your neck.

“My arms are nice?”

“Yeah, I want you to choke hold me with them.”

He suddenly met your eyes, surprised.

“What?” you asked.

“Holy fuck,” he simply muttered, and then crashed his lips into yours again, this time shoving his whole tongue inside to taste you.

And thank God, he did the same with his cock.

He slowly pushed in at your entrance, stretching you deliciously apart.

The both of you groaned in unison, finally able to really feel each other.

His pace was slow, but it soon build, all the while you were thrashing about, trying to grip onto something, because his cock had filled you up so fucking perfectly, you knew you were going to feel it for days after.

“Fuck, Jason,” you closed your eyes tight.

“Yeah, baby?” he panted in your ear, “You like my cock in your pussy?”

“Yes,” you whispered, unable to voice out more in fear of being incoherent.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned out loud, his pace increasing even more, “Feel so good around my cock, baby.”

You only heard his dirty, sexy voice, the wet sounds amplifying with every thrust, his stuttered laboured breathing and his sharp intakes of breaths, and fuck that was enough to tip you over the edge.

“Jason,” you moaned, unable to say anything else.

“Take my cock, sweetheart,” he gasped, “Fuck, so much better than I imagined.”

He gripped both your thighs in each of his hands, and then pushed them back towards you, so he could fuck you at a better angle, a better pace.

And he pummeled into your pussy, fucking you into the goddamn mattress as you did nothing but cry and whine and whimper and moaned, his cock hitting every pleasure spot inside you.

You felt yourself climbing, going higher and higher into ecstasy with every “fuck” coming from Jason, every loud groan you knew someone in the house would hear, every breath he took that was becoming more irregular.

“You want to come, sweetheart?” he asked, “I can feel you getting tighter, fuck.”

You nodded furiously, trying so much to reach that high.

Then, he leaned in, and whispered in your ear with the lowest, huskiest, desperate voice you’ve ever heard.

“Too fucking bad.”

He stopped his motions altogether.

Your eyes shot open.

“What?” you nearly shouted, “Jason!”

“You made me angry, didn’t you,” he gave you a shit eating grin, “Did you really think I was going to help you get off after that?”

“But-but-” you started, “I already said sorry!”

“Sorry’s not enough, baby,” he tutted, “I want you to beg for it.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” he raised an eyebrow, “Beg.”

Thrust.

“For.”

Thrust.

“This.”

Thrust.

“Cock.”

Fuck, you were going absolutely insane.

“Jason,” you whined, “Jason, please. Please, I need your cock, Jason. I need you to fuck me. Please.”

You threw away every single dignity you had.

Hey, the man’s got a good cock.

“Why should I fuck a girl who likes to piss me off?” he growled, jaw clenched.

“Because, sir,” you tested. “I promise to be good next time. And if I’m not, then…”

You trailed off.

“Then?” he prompted.

“Then you can punish me,” you finished.

“Fuck,” he started fucking you again, “Fine.”

That didn’t take much. Jason obviously had a thing for begging and being called sir.

This time, he pounded into you with a force that knocked your breath out, and he continued to do so until you were climbing again.

And this time, he didn’t stop.

“Baby,” he rasped, “Baby, come with me.”

“Jason.”

You felt his thrusts getting faster and faster, though more sloppy and irregular, desperate to chase his own orgasm.

“Fuck, I can feel you,” he gasped, “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

You felt it, the moment Jason let go, you reached your peak, feeling yourself sliding into the realm of pure pleasure as your pussy fluttered around his cock.

He quickly pulled out and came all over your stomach, some reaching your breasts, some hitting your fucking chin. Then, he collapsed next to you, breathing hard.

“Fuck,” you breathed.

“Fuck,” he agreed.

The both of you burst into laughter, the first laughter you ever shared together.

And you knew from then on, it was okay if he didn’t see you as his sister, because you most definitely could not see him as your brother- and you realised you never did.

You were just so desperate to get close to him that you’d use any excuse you could find.

But you’ve successfully closed the gap between you and Jason Peter Todd, and you knew you were currently witnessing his walls slowly crumbling down, bit by bit, right in front of you.

[batfam-rewrites]

Batfam During Quarantine: Training Day

Thanks so much for the amount of love the last post got!I’m sorry it took me so long to post this next one, school and other stuff started to get in the way, so to make up for it I added a surprise arc at the end. I might start doing theses in chunks to save time and fill in any gaps where I don’t post as much because of school. Not so sure yet but it’s just an idea. I hope that if you read this you enjoyed it! I am going to try and post more frequently now that I’m almost caught up with my school work.

Damian: Good morning Tim! I made you breakfast.

Tim: What do you know? Why are you calling me Tim?

Cassandra: Plus three large hot cups of coffee.

Tim: What’s going on? Why are you guys acting so weird?

Cassandra: No reason. Just want to be nice.

Tim: Nope. That’s not it. What did you guys do.

Jason: Done making Tim’s bed! I’m off to steam his suit!

Tim: WHAT THE SHIT IS GOING ON???

Cassandra, Damian, and Jason: *in unison* We just want to be nice. *all three surround him in a big hug*

Tim: THIS IS SO WEIRD!

Dick: *walks into the breakfast room* Morning Tim! How’s it going?

Tim: NO! ALL OF YOU LEAVE ME ALONE! *storms out of the breakfast room*

Dick: What did you do to Tim?

Jason: We have no idea.

Damian: The dude is losing it.

Dick: *gets face to face with Cassandra* Cass, do you have something to say?

Cassandra: We woke up early and decided to be nice to Tim for no reason.

Dick: You guys are evil. Go have your fun.

All three run out of the room.

Jason: TIM LET US LOVE YOU!!!!!!

Daily Briefing

Dick: Hey, Babs doesn’t know your here. I don’t want her to get jealous or something so could you please join the zoom call from another room.

Helena: Sure, I understand, lover.

Dick: No, we aren’t going through that again.

Helena: I make no promises.

Tim: You know you’re going to be in deep shit when Barbara finds out, right?

Dick: I’m in deep shit anyway.

Tim: Very true.

Dick: *begins the zoom call* Hey everyone, so if you can’t tell, Huntress has arrived to help out. Now, to everyone at the manor I created a schedule for when to work out. They should be completed before patrol. For those of you at home, I trust that you made your own.

Barbara: Yep!

Kate: Please, I’ve been training much harder than most of you guys since I was 6.

Harper: Yeah, sorta did. Not able to do much because I’m not at the cave.

Dick: That actually leads me to my next point. Harper I made a schedule for you because Bruce, Alfred, Selina, and I found a way to have Cullen inside the mansion without him finding out who Batman really is. Cullen already knows the alter egos of Red Robin, Spoiler, Orphan, and Nightwing. Everyone else is a question mark, so we will allow you to enter the mansion. When Cullen is around, we all will have to restrain from talking about our vigilante work. Have everything ready by next week. Once you arrive you’ll have to quarantine in your room for two weeks.

Harper: Awesome!

Dick: Today there has actually been no crime in Gotham City, so far, so we’ll take a day off, but if something comes up, cases will be assigned as they normally are. So everyone, after training, feel free to relax but be ready in case something pops up.

Dick and Jason

Dick: *turns on his training playlist, first song being “Devil in I” from Slipknot*

Jason: You know what, if this is the kind of stuff you have on your playlist, I might actually enjoy training with you!

Dick: I have 357 songs on here.

Jason: Damn!

Dick: What did you expect, I listen to every genre!

Jason: Really! I should actually start listening whenever people talk.

Dick: Remember that next time Bruce yells at you for shooting someone.

Jason: I’m just saying, if I mistake someone’s knee cap for their head, is it really that bad?

Dick: *laughs* Yes!

The two stretch a bit before moving on to pommel horse.

Dick: Figured you’d want to get this out of the way first.

Jason: Fuck you!

Dick: Just think of the music, and not falling.

Jason: *goes for a loop on pommel horse and bangs his legs against the pommels and falls* AHHHHHHH!

Dick: Maybe I should take pommels off first?

Jason: That’s an option? Then yes, please do so!

Dick: *quickly takes of the pommels then goes for a magyar, a triple russian, flare, spindle, press handstand one and a half piro, and flawlessly sticks his dismount*

Jason: Show off.

Duke and Damian

Dick and Jason had been training for an hour and fifteen minutes before Duke and Damian walked in. After stretching, the two began to spar.

Dick: Duke! You made a mistake when choosing your partner.

Jason: Nah! My boy Duke will show Dami who’s the boss.

Duke: I honestly like my chances!

Damian: Good Thomas, your over confidence will be your doom!

The two begin to fight. Damian dives right for Duke, rolling out and uses his momentum to go for a front flip and kick Duke in the chest, however Duke evades Damian’s strike and trips him after Damian lands.  Damian gets back up though, thrashing at Duke. Duke dodges each strike and finally jabs Damian in the gut a few times and kicks him in the chest. That would be the only fight out of the three they had that Duke won. 

Afterwards, Dick began to teach him the basics on both high bar. Duke was able to catch on very quickly and by the end of his training on high bar he was learning how to do kips and flyaways. Dick and Duke also decided to tumble together so Duke could learn the basics and some advanced skills too.

Damian spent the rest of his time trying to out do Jason. When Jason was using 100 lb weights, Damian would use 120′s. When Jason ran 5 miles, Damian ran 6. 

Jason: Dami, you’re going to be extremely sore. Take it easy.

Damian: Easy? *huff* Let me *huff* remind you that *huff* I was also trained *huff* by the League *huff* of Assassins. *runs to the garbage to throw up* I am superior *huff* than all of *huff* you in every way.

Jason: Okay bud. Well, I’m about to spar with Dick.

Damian: I’ll fight Grayson, too. *jogs up to Dick while moaning in pain* *huff* Fight me Grayson. *huff*

Dick: I’m not going to fight you. You look like you’ll pass out.

Damian: I’m *huff* fine.

Dick: Throw a punch at me like you normally would without groaning in pain.

Damian: *starts to punch but his fist his Dick like a soft tap* Ahhhhhh.

Dick: Go rest, take an ice bath, eat a lot of fruits, and drink a lot of water.

Damian: Okay, *huff* but only because *huff* you said so.

Dick and Jason then started to fight and after they concluded, Dick took the trash bag that Damian hurled in and tossed it out. An hour later Duke concluded his workout.

Cassandra and Julia

Cassandra: Woooo! Are you ready?

Julia: Your enthusiasm is a little bit concerning.

Cassandra: Yeah, but just deal with it.

Since she arrived to the mansion Julia has not let herself stop her routine. She has been training as much as she has been since her days in Britain's Special Reconnaissance Regiment. However as soon as she saw Cassandra doing freestanding handstand push-ups while doing an inverted crunch, she knew she had to up her game.

Cassandra just ignored the list Dick gave her for the most part and did the craziest exercises she could think of. When she started strength conditioning, she ran to the still rings and tried to do what she saw Dick doing once. She tried an azarian to an iron cross but immediately fell through the rings. it took her twenty minutes but she finally made it to the iron cross and rolled backwards into a planche. An hour later she finish conditioning and waited for Julia to finish so the two could spar.

Julia: Okay, you ready? *walking over from the treadmill*

Cassandra: More than ready! Lets do this! *she started bouncing on her toes like a boxer*

Cassandra won all three fights within a matter of minutes. Julia almost had a chance in the second one where Cassandra lost her balance, but she reacted too slow as Cassandra regained it and knocked Julia to the floor.

Selina and Helena

Selina focused more on her agility during her cardio workout than anything else. I mean, it’s definitely something that she takes pride in so why wouldn’t she?

Helena: Hey, can I ask you a question? *throwing punches toward Selina*

Selina: Sure! *dodges each strike, jumps off the wall, and dives over Helena’s head*

Helena: What’s the situation between Dick and Barbara? *grabs Selina’s torso and slams her body down*

Selina: Oof. *gets back up from the floor and sits down with Helena* Don’t think of it. Dick is all sad that he has to stay at the mansion without Barbara. I wouldn’t even try to approach Dick about the situation because he’ll act even more weird then when you arrived.

Helena: That explains this morning.

Selina: What happened?

Helena: I said hey and he replied with “Hey, what’s up, gir......friend, lady. Girl who is a friend and a lady. Saved it.” Then, just for fun, I pinched his ass and he jumped up and screamed. 

Selina: You’re playing with fire, I don’t blame you for pinching his ass though.

Helena: Hold on, it gets better. After that I leaned towards him and he started leaning over the table and asked, what’s wrong lover. He then stepped to the side and said “Nothing, nothing.” and started walking backwards saying “coolcoolcool” until he reached the door.

Selina: Why bother messing with his head?

Helena: Because it’s fun. Plus I still feel like there is something there. 

Selina: Very well. Now that you have that out of your system let’s head to the showers.

Helena: You won’t tell Dick, right?

Selina: What you just told me is between you and Dick. I will not interfere in any way.

Stephanie and Tim

Tim: *walks in tired as hell* Hey Steph. You ready?

Stephanie: Yeah!

Tim: Alright. Cool.

Both Stephanie and Tim go to do their separate training regimes. Tim however, being extremely tired started to move very slow during his workout. Halfway through his work out he stepped out to grab a five hour energy shot and started flying through his conditioning list that Dick made. 

Tim: You ready to spar? *jumping around like a rabbit, then lands sideways, falling to the floor only to get back up*

Stephanie: *looking at Tim like he’s a crackhead* No, I think we should skip the sparring match today.

Tim: No, come on let’s go! *grabs Stephanie's wrist and drags her over to the sparring arena*

Stephanie: Tim your going to hurt yourself. Instead of sparring let’s take a nap.

Tim: Come on, sleeping is for people who have don’t have tragic backstories. Let’s fight!

Tim tries to throw a few quick jabs but Stephanie quickly sweeps Tim’s legs causing him to fall. Stephanie Runs forward pointing her fist at his throat.

Tim: Owww! That’s abuse! You abused myself! Why are you mean?!

Stephanie: Tim, when was the last time you slept?

Tim: Ummmmm........... Tuesday?

Stephanie: Okay, training is over, go let yourself rest.

Tim: Pffft. I’ll sleep when I’m dead. 

Stephanie: Okay. *text Dick* Hey Dick, we have a code yellow.

Dick: *text back* On my way up.

Tim: You know I like to live by the words of the Beastie Boys anyway. No sleep ‘til Brooklyn, and because I have never been to Brooklyn, I am not obligated to sleep.

Stephanie: You have a problem!

Tim: No, *points his finger dramatically at Stephanie*  you have a problem.

Dick: *walks in* Hey Tim, I have a case I want to work on with you.

Tim: *to Stephanie* See, now I can’t sleep.

Dick: We’ll take the Batmobile.

*3 hours later*

Dick: Okay, we just entered Brooklyn. Now go to sleep!

Tim: No fair, you tricked my brain.

Dick: SLEEEEEEEEP!

Tim: NO!

Dick: Why are you staying up all night?

Tim: Because, I don’t want anything to change! *starts sobbing*

Dick: It’s okay, you’re alright. *pulls over to the side of the road*

Tim: No I’m not. Everything is changing and I don’t want it to. I don’t want to fall out of my habits because what about when things get back to normal. Then we have to build those habits again, and what if while we are readjusting someone dies because we weren’t ready. Plus, there is so much stress with helping Bruce keep his company from falling, trying to finish my homework, training, and patrolling the nights where there is more activity. 

Dick: *embraces Tim in his arms* Look change is going to happen whether we like it or not. It’s not what happens that shapes who we are but how we react to the changes that occur in our lives that do. The world is never going to be the same after this pandemic is over, so you could either adapt, or repeat your mistakes. It’s okay to not be okay. You are not alone, you have all of us at the mansion to talk to. Another thing that you have to keep in mind is that people are going to die. We both knew that the moment we signed up, and sometimes there is nothing we can do about it. All we can do is learn from what happened to stop it from happening again. You also need to get some sleep. I know you are under a lot of stress right now, not going to lie, but you have it worse than all of us right now, but how do you expect to save others if you won’t take care of yourself. 

Tim: *starts calming down*

Dick: I’ll talk to Bruce tonight to see if he could cut you some slack. I’ll find a way to help out too now that we aren’t patrolling as much. Just make sure to take care of yourself.

Tim: Okay.

Dick: Smart, toit.

Tim: Stop it Peralta. *begins to laugh*

Dick: *laughs pretty hard* Now get some rest, I’ll wake you up when we get back to Gotham.

Tim: Okay. I guess.

Black Mask, Hush, Two-Face, and Jason Bard

The night was very silent as Roman Sionis looked upon Gotham from the building. It was quiet, empty, peaceful, and disturbing. Hush walked into the room, followed by Harvey Dent and Jason Bard.

Black Mask: Congratulations, you found your way here.

Jason Bard: You’re pretty easy to find when you want to be.

Black Mask: Or is it because no one else is on the street other then your snitches.

Jason Bard:......

Hush: You called us here. What do you want?

Black Mask: Look out at the city. Tell me what do you see.

The three men walk forward towards the window.

Two-Face: Fear.

Hush: Silence.

Jason Bard: Caution, and paranoia.

Black Mask: You are all correct, but you missed one thing.

Two-Face: Stop playing games! What do you want us to see?

Black Mask: Opportunity.

[elyreywrites]

hips don’t lie (shakira shakira)

a crack fic born of a typo, and enabled by discord (shout out to the C&C discord server!! y’all are amazing.) also, it was a motivational gift for a friend. and a huge thanks to Bumpkin for being my beta on this fic!

title from Shakira’s “Hips Don’t Lie”.

please REBLOG -- DO NOT REPOST

AO3 Link

Teen 1,895 words Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne part of my batkids shenanigans series

Summary:

Tim breaks a hip. Dick and Jason fight for the right of sitting shotgun. Barbara is the Actual Best. And Bruce is Suffering.

- - - - -

Tim leaned back against the wall in his cell and waited. He certainly wasn’t going to escape at the moment – not after some goon had slammed a metal bat into his hip. Standing wasn’t going to happen, much less fighting. As it was, Tim could block out the pain while sitting down and not moving. He’d dragged his body out of the desert after he was stabbed in the spleen, he could ignore this pain.

The sound of shattering glass and indistinct yelling brought a grin to his face. Ah, his rescue had arrived. Who did they send this time? The gunfire that broke out could mean Jason, or the goons had guns. Maybe both. The only guarantee was that it wasn’t Damian. He had a final paper due in the morning for school and Bruce ordered him off patrol.

The commotion lasted all of ten minutes. After another couple of minutes, something banged on the other side of the door.

“Hey Red, yell if you’re in here,” called Dick. After a second, he squawked, “What was that for?”

“He might be unconscious and can’t fucking answer,” Jason snarked.

Huh, both of them to the rescue. “I’m conscious,” he yelled. The lock clicked and his two older brothers strolled in, the keys dangling from the lock.

“Oh good,” Jason drawled, “then you can explain why the fuck you didn’t escape on your own.” He tossed Tim an extra comm, which he immediately put in.

Tim hummed. “I mean, it might have something to do with the metal bat that some asshole caught me in the hip with.”

Both men paused, just as Bruce appeared in the doorway. Tim knew his eyebrow was raised expectantly under the cowl. Tim looked straight at him and said, “I’m not very hip.”

In the background, Dick started snickering as Jason choked on his laughter. Bruce, though – Bruce went still. Bat still – the kind he only got in two situations. One, if he was about to drop into a fight. Two, when one of his kids made an exceptionally bad joke. The second often came before the Heavy Sigh of Exasperated Dad. “Your hip is injured,” he inferred, returning to the matter at hand. “What else can you tell us about the injury?”

Smirking, he complained, “Help, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.”

The snickering turned into near-hysterical giggles. Jason was wheezing under the helmet. And there was the Heavy Sigh of Exasperated Dad.

“Someone call Life Alert!” Dick gasped out through his giggling.

“Fucking hell, kid,” Jason managed. “You little fucking shit. We were worried about your goddamn ass, and here you are, making shitty jokes like you’re Nightwing.”

“Hey!”

Bruce shook his head. “Your hip might be broken. Let’s–”

Dick cut off their father. “That’s so sad,” he choked out past his widening grin, “Oracle, play ‘Hips Don’t Lie’.”

Bruce froze. Tim watched with glee as Jason sunk to the floor, his wheezing turning into the high-pitched keening of someone laughing without air. And then – because Babs was the Actual Best – the song started playing over the comm line.

Ah, there it was: the second Heavy Sigh of Exasperated Dad, almost entirely drowned out by Shakira’s “Hips Don’t Lie”.

“Why,” he asked, long-suffering. “Why do you do this to me? Just… you two, get to the Batmobile. I'll get Red.”

Tim raised an eyebrow behind the mask. “You’re the one that chose to be a father. Really, you should have expected this.”

Bruce tilts his head, his own equivalent of a raised eyebrow when he’s in the cowl. “Oh, I’m supposed to expect my children to reference memes and make jokes when one has broken a hip. That’s what I was supposed to be prepared for, when I decided to take in a grieving child. The parenting books never warned me about that.” He leaned down and tried to carefully pick Tim up, as Tim gritted his teeth against the pain. In the background, “Hips Don’t Lie” faded away.

Over the comm, Jason scoffed. “As if you ever read any parenting books.”

“I know for a fact that you didn’t,” Dick added. “Agent A made enough pointed comments about it that I know you didn’t. Also, I call shotgun.”

“You can have shotgun over my cold, dead body, you dick!” Jason snapped.

“First of all, stop joking about your death! Second of all, fuck you, you know the rules! Hood, get back here! I fucking called shotgun as soon as the Batmobile was in view, respect the fucking rules!”

“You’ll have to drag me out!”

“Red Robin gets shotgun,” Batman cut in.

Tim looked at Bruce blankly. “One, Red Robin is staying out of this, as one of them has already tried to kill me before. Two, Red Robin has a broken hip and needs to be in the backseat, because there is no way in hell I can sit upright very well right now.”

“For shame, B,” Dick sighed. “Hood, I swear to fucking god, get the fuck out of shotgun! Batmaaaaan, Hood isn’t following the ruuuules!”

Tim felt the Heavy Sigh that time. Damn, three in one night? They were doing pretty well. “That’s not really anything new, though, is it?” Tim snarked.

“You wanna fuckin’ go, punk?” Jason called back.

Closer now, Tim could see as Dick shook his head in over-dramatic disappointment. “I can’t believe you, Hood. Breaking the Sacred Rules of Calling Shotgun. Threatening to fight a kid with a broken hip. What would Agent A say?”

“Oh shit.” Tim whispered, grinning, “you’re gonna be in trouble.”

Jason growled back over the line, apparently kicking out at Dick from his spot in shotgun. “Fuck you, I’m an adult!”

Someone hummed on the comm line. “Would you care to repeat that?” Alfred said, as calmly as ever.

At the same time, Dick grabbed Jason’s leg to pull him from the Batmobile. Both things caused Jason to squawk as he landed on his ass on the ground. “No, Agent A. Sorry, Agent A. Hey, that is not fair, I got there first! I have longer legs, and you’re gonna stick me in the back?!”

Bruce stopped for a second, watching the chaos of Dick trying to get into the passenger seat by climbing over Jason, who was still laying on the ground, while Jason kept grabbing his legs and pulling him back out. Tim watched Bruce, waiting. Wondering.

Bruce inhaled and–

Jason and Dick both froze as they heard the fourth Heavy Sigh of the night.

“Is… is that a record?” Jason asked, in a reverent whisper.

“I don’t know,” Dick replied, just as awed.

Tim smirked. “Robin and I have managed seven in one night.”

“What?!” Dick shrieked.

“How?!”

Bruce only looked tiredly upon his eldest sons. “Robin and Red Robin,” he said, as though that was enough explanation. Tim had to admit, it kind of was. No need to mention that it was only for show now, more for the purpose of antagonizing their family than anything else. Cass knew, because Cass always knew, but she only giggled whenever she witnessed their fights.

Jason and Dick stared at each other, Dick’s leg still caught in Jason’s grasp. “We can probably get at least five before we get back to the Cave,” Dick muttered lowly, as though the comm wasn’t picking up everything he said.

“Done,” Jason said. “But I still got here first so stop trying to claim shotgun.”

“Hmmm, nope. I called it as soon as the Batmobile was in view. Them’s the rules, little brother.”

Jason snarled. “I’m taller than you! I need the extra leg space more!”

“You are barely taller than me, and not enough to really matter for leg space.”

Batman carefully put Tim down so he was stretched out along the length of the backseat and climbed in the driver's seat. “How is it,” he began, “that Red Robin, your younger brother, is acting more mature than both of you.”

Jason and Dick both stared at Bruce in utter betrayal. Then Jason looked back at Dick. “Go share the backseat with Red, you’re the oldest. He’s in pain. He needs his big brother to tell him it’s okay.”

“God no,” Tim muttered. He did not want Dick’s smothering right now.

Dick gasped, head snapping to stare at Tim. “Holy shit, I didn’t even think about that! Red, does it hurt a lot? You need a hug.”

Plans for revenge were already forming in Tim’s mind as Dick climbed in the backseat with him, letting Tim lean back against him. Dick’s arms wrapped around Tim in what some considered a hug and others considered an inescapable hold. A hand was already carding through his hair and his oldest brother reassured him that they’d be back at the Cave soon. Jason was snickering from the passenger seat.

Dick needed a distraction.

“Hey, O?” Tim asked, “Can you connect to the Batmobile? You probably already know what I’m thinking.”

“Sure thing Red,” Barbara smirked. He knew she did – he could hear it. Through the speakers in the car, “Hips Don’t Lie” started playing, again.

Tim didn’t miss Bruce’s hands tightening on the steering wheel, probably refraining from sighing again. Of course, now that he knew they were actively trying to antagonize him, it was going to be a lot harder.

As Tim expected, with Shakira blaring out of the speakers, Dick and Jason joined in on the singing. Loudly and off-key. A grin stretched across his face. Normally, he’d join in, but the pain was a bit too much for him to do that. That was fine, Bruce was getting twitchy enough as it was.

There was still no sigh yet, though. No matter how terribly Dick and Jason sang along, even going so far as to be off-beat, Bruce only twitched. At least, until the Spanish came.

“You know Spanish,” Bruce whispered, pained, as Jason sang English words that sounded just similar enough. Dick was doing the same, but without coordination, they were singing different words, creating the sound of pure chaos. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“You only have yourself to blame,” Tim snickered.

The fifth Heavy Sigh of Exasperated Dad cut the awful singing off so Dick and Jason could scream their victory. Tim regretted nothing as he slammed his head back into Dick’s chin.

“Ow! Reeed, whyyyy?” Dick whined, leaning his head back away from Tim.

Tim would have twisted around to glare at him if that didn’t seem like a Bad Plan. “You yelled in my fucking ear! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“We’re here,” Bruce called desperately, dragging himself out of the car. “Please, boys, please. Just… stop. It’s been a long night. Take pity on your old man.”

“Eh, I’m gonna go the fuck to sleep anyway,” Jason shrugged as he climbed out. “We succeeded in our goal. Have fun with the broken hip, Timmers! Night!” Tim watched him go, incredulous. A broken hip wasn’t what he’d call “fun” – despite the jokes and references that could be made.

Dick helped Bruce get him out of the car, and then smirked. “Your new ringtone is ‘Hips Don’t Lie’, just so you know. Night, Timmy!”

Tim watched his brothers leave, beginning to twitch himself. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

“You’ll never be hip again,” deadpanned Bruce.

[sad-af1121]

Unforgettable Part 1/?

Summary: You thought your life would be played out they way you thought. But due to a tragic event, you left everything, including your soulmate, Bucky Barnes.  Pairing: Deadpool x Reader (platonic friendship) Bucky Barnes x Reader (eventually) Word Count:1830 Warnings: Language, angst A/N: Hey :) So this is my first fic series and it’s very slow burned. There’s a lot to the story, and if y’all enjoy it, please let me know and I’d be happy to continue it! This is a very angsty fic, so I’m warning you now. Feedback is welcomed 💜

3 years.

It’s been 3 years since you left your family…

You left your home…

Your friends…

And your lover.

You don’t remember the last time you genuinely smiled, or laughed, or even lived.

Every day was the same. You’d sleep throughout the day, not giving a fuck about the world that seemed to be all sunshine and rainbows. When in truth, the world is pretty fucked up and you’d wondered why people would waste their time having fun, going out, having children, being in love…

They have no idea what goes on in secrecy. What evil organizations are trying to take over the world, an alien invasion, mutant war or the attack of robots who deem that humanity is the reason for everything horrible in the world. And guess what, that robotic, red-eyed son of a bitch was right, however you believed it’s the ones who set out to perfect the human race or did unspeakable things deserve to get rid of from this world and the next. But there were only a few who could work together to save mankind from things that.

Of course, you used to be in a team, but then again that was a time where things were much simpler.

At night, you’d go out and find any suspicious activity. Whether it was saving people lives from criminals or hunting down assholes who have wronged so many and hurt a dozen or so. It didn’t matter. You didn’t care. As long as you showed fear in those who have done or did horrendous acts. They didn’t deserve to be happy, why should they. They’re all scumbags, lacking emotions. They were just… things without a soul. Lifeless creatures walking amongst the living, who believe to have a purpose in the world.

You used to have a purpose. Not anymore.

By dawn, your clothes would be ripped, drenched in blood, sweat, and dirt. You’d look like you stepped out of a horror movie, however, it was reality. You fought with your own inner demons on a daily basis. Oh wait, you’d forget you can sense emotions radiating off of people. You still weren’t used to absorbing all the emotions people felt. You learned to turn off yours a long time ago.

You didn’t need them; you were emotionless.

You weren’t always like this. There was a time where you loved helping people deal with their feelings to try and get them to be happy. Life always fascinated you. You were intrigued with the world and what is was capable of doing, showing and creating. It was a beautiful white canvas that was painted over with mother nature’s intendancies and desires. But you saw the world and life colorless, black and white with red.

You never knew who your real parents were. You were put in an orphanage at the age of 13. You had no memory of your previous years. It was like someone deprived you of that, yet you had no clue if you had maybe suffered through something traumatic or had a medical condition that caused you to have long term memory loss, learning how to do everything again, creating a new identity. A new you.

At the age of 15, you were sent to a foster home. You had a loving family and a brother who would do anything for you. However, knowing the life you set for yourself, you pushed them out your life, no shut them out. They were safe not knowing where you were, if you’re alive or not. You remember the first time they freaked out over your powers. Yeah, more than one. Not only could you feel what others were feeling, but you emitted energy in form of blue fire, wrapping around your hands. It’s also powered my emotions.

Your own actually.

You had to be careful not to get upset or angry or else you’d send a wave of power, damaging a whole lot. You found this out when you were being examined and tested by Bruce Banner. He was fascinated by your molecular makeup and so was Tony. Well, Tony cared about perfecting you in any way possible, building weapons and gadgets to help you aim your powers whenever they got out of control.

You were anything but in control.

Your foster parents had thrown you a birthday party when the lights went out. You got upset and when your foster mother tried calming you down, but you got more upset. You balled your fists and blue fire appeared, lighting up the room in the most exquisite and mesmerizing color. They were afraid to touch you but as you saw the fear and worry they had, the blue orbs disappeared. You leaped into their arms and started crying, trying to understand what was going on. They told you, you brought light into their lives. You smiled a bit at the memory. They didn’t know what to do but to keep your powers a secret so that people didn’t hurt you. You were their daughter and they protected and cared for you as long as they could.

As long as you would.  

You longed to go back and stop the things that brought you here in the first place. Life was slipping through your delicate hands that were now tough and torn from your lack of caring. Sure, you were still beautiful, capturing the eyes of any male or female who found you exquisite and stunning. But you just couldn’t keep up with yourself. People came first rather than you. That’s how its always been. Your fears came true and you were living in one for the rest of your life until you draw your last breath…

Trapped.  

***                          

You groan, hearing your alarm go off and you slam your fist on the device before snapping your eyes open and seeing it in a million pieces. Shit, you cursed at yourself and shifted around the bed, trying to get in a better position to sleep your ass off. However, your roommate started blaring music around the house as a reminder to wake you up. You grabbed an unoccupied pillow and covered it over your head and ears, blocking the horrendous music from ruining your precious sleep. But the sound of the door, slamming open and hitting the wall startled you.

“Ya know Y/n, it’s not healthy to sleep your ass off all day. How else are ya gonna get that ass nice and firm?”

“Get the fuck out Wade!” You threw that same pillow at his head, which he skillfully blocked by ducking his head then turning back to you, plopping himself on the bed. Your roommate is indeed, Deadpool himself. He found you struggling in an alleyway, pressed against a brick wall with some smug bastard’s hands around your throat. He swooped in and saved your life. Well, you used your powers to throw the guy off you and he shot him before he could hit the ground but he was fascinated with the fact that you were a mutant. You two instantly grew fond of each other and he’s been your friend ever since.

But that didn’t change the fact of how annoying this son of a bitch was.

“That really hurt my feelings. I thought we were more than an abusive relationship Y/n? I thought you loved me?” He says with his stupid sarcastic voice that makes you wanna punch the daylights out of him. You growl and sit up, flashing the Freddy Kruger, looking guy a fake smile.

“I’m up asshole. Now go and fuck up someone else’s day, okay?” You rolled your eyes and looked at the other clock you had on your dresser, 8:30 p.m. You signed and hopped out of bed, making your way to your bathroom to get dressed and freshen up.

He casually follows.

“So what’s for today’s agenda, you apathetic little troll? Gonna go guns blazzin’ in another supermarket?” He snickers and bends over, laughing like he saw someone run into a glass window.

“No asshole. I didn’t know that jerk was gonna run in there in the first place. I didn’t wanna lose him, and it’s not like I shot anyone besides that criminal.”

“Y/n… you shot him in the dick.” He cringes. “Even I felt that one. You took his babymaker away. How else is he supposed to cumpie in women?”

Your eyes shot wide open and your nostrils flared at his comment and you threw your switchblade from the bathroom, stabbing Wade in the chest. He looks down at the weapon as if nothing happened and looks back up to you, in total disbelief.

“Baby, what did I say about throwing your toys everywhere? People can get seriously hurt.” He pulls out the blade, groaning before wiping off the blood and handing it back to you.

“We need counseling sweetheart. I-I don’t think I can live like this.” The smug bastard pretends to cry and sound hurt, but you know he’s all act. He’s like a walking bad comedy movie that you wish never existed. You pinch the bridge of your nose showing how frustrated and agitated you were becoming.

“Wade, is there a reason why you’re being more of a complete ass this evening? You’re usually hanging out with that idiot who doesn’t know how to speak when I’m around… What’s his name like rodent or something?” You lean against the door frame with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, you mean Weasel?  He tried wearing my suit but hurt himself by tripping on it and banging his head against the coffee table, so he’s home…away from me.” He chuckles and you shake your, walking towards your closet, fetching your boots.

“Ohhh, and some Cap guy called your cell today. I thought I was the only other person who knew your number?” He stands in front of you with his arms crossed. You froze and your anxiety levels rising.

“Wh-when did h-he call?”

“This morning. I told him you were out…” He bends down, taking your hand in his, snapping you from your thoughts.

“Hey, it’s alright. I think you should talk to him, he sounded concerned.” You nod your head and look up at him.

“Yeah, yeah… just give me some time.”

Wade nods and kisses your forehead before getting up and walking out the room. You glance at your cell sitting on the nightstand, across the room. You sit there for a good hour, contemplating if you should contact the only people who knew the Y/n before she died. You were a new person. How would they handle that? What did he want? Did… did something happen?

Panic strikes within you and you leap up, sprinting across the room, grabbing your phone, before dialing Steve’s number. It wasn’t saved on your phone, no. You knew it by heart.

Ring, ring…

Your breathing hitches as you hear the familiar voice that was once warm and inviting to desperate and exhausted.

“Y/n? We need your help.”

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