#dad jason todd x mom reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

indulgentdaydream · 1 year ago

Text

Bliss and Misery

Dad!Jason Todd x Fem!Mom!Reader || Angst; Hurt/No Comfort || Word Count: 1,643

Warnings: dead dove.

i know how much you guys love my domestic!jason fics :3 so here's this one that's been bouncing around in my mind:

The morning sun stretched its fingers, slowly finding its way centimetre by centimetre in order to reach into the small apartment bedroom. The soft warmth spread over Jason's face, giving him a slow and subtle wake-up call.

Jason almost doesn't want to wake up. The plush covers are pulled up to his shoulders. One arm lays over his stomach, resting against the cotton fabric. The other stuffed underneath the pillow, beside his head. He hasn't even opened his eyes yet, but he can feel your presence beside him.

Slowly, he blinks, adjusting to the daylight. He pulls his hand out from under the pillow and runs it across his face. He vaguely remembered something about needing to be up for something. Something about helping Dick with something or another.

He turned his head to the left and all possible worries about sleeping vanished when his eyes found you.

Jason couldn't help but smile. The sight of his girl curled up in the sheets beside him making him feel warmer than the sun ever could. You looked as completely at peace as he felt in the moment. The sunlight stretched over you, as well, illuminating every feature of yours. All of which he loved without a second thought.

Loved as if it was second nature.

As if it was breathing itself.

Here, with the comforter pulled up to your chin, face squished against the pillow, and a small pile of dried drool forming on it, you were safe. He was safe.

You were safe and he was safe and this was everything he had ever wanted to give you.

Peace. Safety. Comfortability.

Love.

He takes the hand resting across his stomach and reaches out to you. There was a stray lock that had fallen out of place. He wanted to fix it for you before it could wake you out of annoyance.

Then he heard the quick padding of feet coming down the hallway.

It filters in through the bedroom door, left open a crack, getting louder with each little slap of a bare foot rushing down the hall. Jason smiles at the sound.

Obviously, he's not the only one awake.

From where he's laying, Jason can only see the top of the door. He listens as the padding feet stop right outside of it, before it begins to slowly creak open. Jason pushes up onto his elbows to get a better look.

There's a small face poking their head around the door, a curious look on their face as they peer up at the bed, trying to determine if their parents are awake. As soon as Jason's head comes up into their view, a large, bright, slightly toothy smile spreads across their whole face.

Jason holds a finger to his lips as your shared toddler pushes the door open the rest of the way. Luckily, it doesn't bang loud enough to wake you up.

"Come to my side," Jason whispers.

The sound of quick padding feet picks up again. Jason lays his head back against his pillow. He gets a second more of peace before there's a small head, covered with dense, black curls, that's appearing next to him, barely visible over the edge of the bed. Next, there's tiny hands. They're reaching up and gripping at the blanket, attempting to pull themself up, only to no avail.

Jason turns and reaches down. He lifts them up with no effort, sitting them onto his chest. His voice is groggy, still full of sleep, as he whispers "Hiya, baby."

A fit of giggles rings throughout the room. His baby leans forward. Two hands settle on either side of Jason's cheeks. His baby grins at him still, two eyes staring into his own, matching ones, and matches his whisper, "Daddy."

Jason chuckles to himself. He gently grabs his toddler's hands, pressing kisses and pretending to nibble on the little, pudgy fingers.

Another round of giggles sound out, a bit louder than before.

You shuffle in your sleep, a small puff of air leaving your lips. The movement grabs the attention of both your baby and your husband.

Your baby flops down, suddenly, off of Jason's chest. They land between you two, on the mattress. One pudgy hand is pushing themself up, the other reaching out to your face, instead. Their whispering voice calls out, "Mommy!"

Jason turns onto his side, facing you, and pulls them back. He gently holds them to his chest with an arm around them, “Shhh," He whispers into their ear, "Mommy’s sleeping.”

"Mommy s'eeping.”

Jason laughs quietly smiling as their baby looks back up at him with that same, bright grin. They look up at him with your eyes, before looking back at you.

...

Your eyes?

Jason shuffles lower in the bed, putting his face next to his baby’s. All four of their eyes are focused on you.

“Isn’t she so pretty?" He whispers, "Look at how pretty Mommy is.”

You look so peaceful. So cozy. So beautiful. With the blanket wrapped around you, your limbs comfortably spread out. Your entire life right in front of you, yet you were blissfully unaware.

“Pretty,” Their baby whispers.

Jason grins, patting their stomach, “Yes. She’s very pretty isn’t she?” Jason lets go of their baby, “Go wake her up.”

Their baby squeals out a fit of giggles again. They immediately crawl forward between the small space. Their hands come down quick, making Jason flinch in preparation for the accidental blow, but they land gently on your face. Their lips come down to messily kiss your closed eyelid.

“Mommy,” they whisper loudly.

You let out a small groan. Your baby grins, gently patting your cheek. You peer one eye open, "What is it?"

Jason grins wide, his hand coming over to smooth over your upper arm through the blanket, “The wake up call came in.”

Their baby sat back on the mattress as you lifted your head, “So you were the first victim," your eyes squinted at the morning light coming in through the window behind Jason, "and you just let ‘em continue their rampage?”

Their baby scoots down to lay between their parents, their face level between theirs, still smiling and happy as could be.

“I was already awake,” Jason smiles, “I let you have five more minutes before the attack began.”

You hum, closing your eyes again, "What a gentleman."

“Mommmmy,” your baby dragged out the word, their little hand reaching out and touching your cheek.

You hum and peak an eye open again, “I’m awake, darling.”

Jason chuckles and leans over, “You better be. We’ve obviously slept in enough according to the little one."

You let out a small laugh. He presses a light kiss to your lips.

A small squeal sounds.

Jason looks down at the look of betrayal on their toddler’s face. Their little hands raise up in question. It makes him laugh wholeheartedly.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he leans back down to the toddler instead. You're laughing with him, “Are you feeling left out?”

Jason kisses their cheek. You lean in and kiss their other cheek.

Jason looks back at you, a warm smile on his face. He begins to reach his hand out to cup your face.

His phone starts to ring.

He frowns. You aren't reacting. Neither is your toddler.

His hand hits the pillow where your head should be.

The sheets are cold.

The room is dark. It’s the middle of the night.

There’s no one in front of him. It’s just him in his empty, cold, uncomfortable bed.

There's no warmth. No sunlight. No comfortable blanket. No padding little feet.

No you.

He sits up, throwing his feet over the side of the bed, tossing the covers off of himself. He rubs a hand over his face. One glance at his phone shows that it’s Dick calling. No chance he’s picking up.

Not now.

Jason holds his head in his hands.

Why did he ever break up with you?

To protect you from himself, of course. All he had wanted to give you.

Peace. Safety. Comfortability.

and...

Love.

The phone stopped ringing. A moment later, it started up again.

His life is dangerous. He was dragging you down. You were better off without him. You had the chance to choose a different path than he had.

A path that lowered your chance of sudden death just by association.

But… if that’s the life that he could’ve had with you… a life he hadn’t fully considered himself ever being able to have…

God.

Why did he ever leave?

The sight of that little smile, held in his arms, lit up by the morning light, made his stomach churn so violently he almost darted to the bathroom.

What would their name have been? He didn't know the gender in the dream.

He would have let you name them. He was never good with names.

He thought back on their eyes. He would have wanted them to have your eyes. He would have wanted them to have every single one of your features. It was always easier to those who were as gorgeous as you. Even if you rarely believed him when he tried to convince you that you are.

The phone stopped ringing again.

A text came through. You promised.

Yeah, The image of you laying in the bed, your toddler laying beside you, both smiling up at him, flashed through Jason's mind, I did promise her, didn't I?

Jason lifts his head, shaking it a little to clear his thoughts.

He had made his bed, and now he was laying in it. And it wasn't the one that had you and your shared child in it.

He picked up the phone, cleared his throat, and redialed.

He ignored the tears still falling down his face.

And the sight of your contact that was still favourited.

my bad guys I was in a mood...

1K notes · View notes

bluemoonbun · 2 months ago

Text

what if there was a yandere batfam x villain!mom!reader. More specifically, I'm thinking of this (Fem reader);

Reader is a (technically) small threat. They're well known, but they mostly go after the rich and police. Unfortunately, that describes everyone in/closely involved with the Batfamily. Attempts at capture are futile, however, since they seem to rival Bruce in contingency plans.

Eventually, Jason steps up to bat and tries to catch them. However, there's one thing that Jason picked up from Bruce; his type is crime.

You and Jason have Batman-and-Catwoman-esque chases throughout Gotham, Jason blaming your escape on you being too crafty while denying any help. You see Jason's scars and admit that you have a pretty bad one on your side, eventually showing it to him when you feel comfortable taking your clothes off. Jason has had to hide more hickeys, bite marks, and scratches on his back than anyone would hazard to guess.

One day, however, you disappear. The Batfam is relieved that you've finally stopped your reign of terror over Gotham, but Jason is worried.

The Batfam all go out for ice cream a few months later for something unrelated, when Jason catches sight of something familiar.

A scar winding up someone's side. A scar he's seen before. A scar that's stretched due to a bump.

Dick walks into his back when Jason freezes. Judging by the size, you've been pregnant for about as long as you've been off of the streets. So that's where you've been...

Why didn't you tell him? Did you think he didn't love you enough? Did he not show you enough times that he loved you? Did you think that it wouldn't work because he was working with Batman? He wasn't that close with him! He'd help you find a nice apartment in Crime Alley, or, hell, you could move in with him! He wasn't sure how good of a dad he'd be, but he'd try! Isn't that what parenting is about?

Oh god, he hasn't been around for so much of your pregnancy already. He needs to talk to you!

"...Jason. Earth to Jason Todd? Hello?" Dick says, waving his hand through the thoughts swirling in front of his eyes. Jason starts slightly as he remembers where he was. Damian begins walking towards you. Or rather, the ice cream store you were in front of.

While you were out of earshot, he saw as you looked at Damian. You smiled, probably asking where his parents are, because he gestured behind him. He watched as your smile fell into shock as your eyes landed on him, hand instinctively going to your stomach before you glanced at a nearby alleyway before looking back at him.

He took the hint. Now you're facing each other, unasked and uncountable questions floating between the both of you. Jason, however, asked the worst question possible in that moment.

"Is it mine?"

The slap was warranted, honestly.

The next few questions come more easily. You're around 24 weeks along, you've been living alone for the most part, you've obviously taken time off to avoid any injuries/toxic exposure to the baby, etc. Eventually, he asks why you never told him, and the reason was twofold. On one hand, telling him would've required doing some sort of crime for the batfamily to follow and him being the one that caught you, which you had known was debateable since he mentioned how Bruce and the Robins offered to tag along. On the other, the chance of everything crashing and burning because of this was too great. You were too willing to accept that it was truly just like what Batman and Catwoman had, something fun and fleeting but nothing deeper than that. You weren't going to risk your child because you felt loved.

Jason takes your hands and tells you his full legal name. At first you're confused, but he tells you more. He tells you how long he's been a vigilante, where he lives, even the code to his apartment. He doesn't see any of this as fleeting. This, to him, was a relationship that just needed a full push to become a "proper" one.

He places his hands and yours on your stomach.

"My name is Jason Peter Todd, I'm the vigilante Red Hood, son of Bruce Wayne, and... I'm gonna be a dad if you'll let me."

You smile and hug him, unable to talk around the lump in your throat.

"Jason...? What the fuck are you doing?" says Dick.

He turns around and realizes that the entire batfamily had heard him.

"So, she's pregnant with your child?" Damian glances around, trying to get another look at your belly.

"Of everyone I thought would get a villain pregnant... you weren't high on that list." Barbara chimes in.

"I'm gonna be a grandfather?" Bruce asks

---

So yeah, gist of it is that Jason gets Reader pregnant, Reader gets some information that Batman uses to justify keeping you in the manor, along with the half truth of "keeping appearances", since the tabloids would eat you alive if they caught evidence of a member of the Wayne family being a deadbeat dad, and over time, the family becomes more and more suffocating until your baby is born, in which they somehow make themselves a nuisance in child rearing.

Asks are welcome!

#yandere batfam #yandere jason todd x reader #yandere #yandere batfam x reader #yandere dc #moonie posts #moonie writes

935 notes · View notes

cybergoth1 · 3 months ago

Text

beyond the cowl | prologue | batfamily x isekaide!reader

masterlist | chapter 01.

synopsis: ❛❛you're just a normal twenty-one-year old girl trying to navigate life with a shitty job and a useless degree. life isn't easy, and between expensive therapy sessions and the constant feeling of failure, you suddenly wake up in a body that wasn't yours, with a past that wasn't yours. now, in another dimension, you're dealing with the fact that you're a crucial part of the caped crusade that shaped bruce wayne's life. you're the second robin, the former girl wonder, and the vigilant gotham needed so much.❞

warnings/tags: swearing. reader being emotionally immature bc we love toxic women. no beta we die like jason todd. reader really needs her lexapro. alfred being a sweetheart in the end (pls lets pretend bane never killed him).

Sometimes you felt like they had lied to you. Straight to your face. Your friends, your family and your professors.

They all made you believe that something important was out there, just waiting for you. They patted your back while you poured out your insecurities like the self-doubting idiot you are, and with the most convincing tone, told you that the world was your oyster. That opportunities are everywhere.

They said you shouldn't be that worried about getting a job. You still have plenty of time after graduating. Right?

Right.

Their nice words turned out to be useless the moment you stepped out of college. Your dreams and expectations were shattered during your first month sending out resumes to every single company and agency you could find. And then, before you knew it, eight months had passed without you landing a decent job. The endless rejection emails and mounting bills started to make you lose sleep as you spent countless nights tossing and turning in your single bed.

That’s why you ended up here, one year later, in a café downtown, learning the difference between a flat white and a cappuccino for a living.

You wiped down the counter for the sixth time in the past half hour, keeping an eye out for any trace of coffee left by the last customer when he spilled it all over your hands and apron. The feeling of the cloth under your fingers was the only thing grounding you as your thoughts began to spiral for the third time that day. You couldn’t even hear the annoying hiss of the espresso machine or your manager's high-pitched voice nagging at you about some shit you didn't care about.

You only lifted your head when a customer called you by your name. It was the same high school kid who always ordered a caramel macchiato. Mia or something. Your mind wandered as you pulled a shot of espresso for the new order.

You shouldn’t be here.

You shouldn't be pretending your lifetime dreams were nothing. You shouldn’t be pretending that you feel fulfilled cleaning counters and serving people who barely looked up at your face while you handed them their orders.

You heard Mia asking for extra vanilla syrup.

Shit, that was so unfair to you. You did everything right; every single thing they told you to do. You checked all the boxes.

You got a degree, unlike half of your family, who barely finished high school. You didn’t get knocked up at sixteen, unlike your mom and older sister, and you didn’t get addicted to fucking alcohol, unlike your dad. So why are you still living like this — paycheck to paycheck, unable to afford dental care, healthcare, or even the most basic stuff like a new pair of shoes.

Deep down, you know why.

Poverty is an eternal, miserable, and unbreakable cycle — you were just naïve enough to think you could overcome it with simple actions. You kept your eyes fixed on the tall iced latte in your hand while zoning out. Yeah, time for another therapy session.

“Here you go” you tried to smile while handing her the cup. Hiding your growing anxiety and negative thoughts behind your customer service voice was a skill you were slowly, but surely, building up. But you probably looked weird as fuck since she gave you an awkward smile while muttering a "thanks".

"I still don’t know how you got this job. You look like a psychopath," you heard Nate, your coworker, from behind you, holding an empty milk pitcher.

He would be a nice, solid dude if he didn't act like a middle school bully most of the time.

"Yeah?" you rolled your eyes, finally turning your body to look at him. Damn, he really needed to shave his sideburns; he looked ridiculous. "Want me to tell you what you look like?"

His red hair and weird face made him look like a distressed orangutan. A very ugly orangutan.

He just smirked at your sarcastic tone. Fucking cunt.

"Nah, I'm good".

As the rest of the shift slowly passed, you kept checking your phone over and over, waiting for that email from the agency you applied to two weeks ago. You got nothing, as usual. Nothing besides a text from your sister asking for forty dollars; she probably ran out of baby formula again.

With a loud sigh, you decided to scroll through Instagram while Nate flirted with some customers. You quickly noticed that your college friend Christine had just been promoted again. She had been working at her father's company since her sophomore year, and her longtime boyfriend, Tom, had proposed to her in front of the Eiffel Tower.

Uh, wow, that's nice—good for her.

"Congrats, babe! Oh my god, he's so lucky to have you in his life. And good luck at your new job," you send her a quick DM, like a good friend would.

And you are, objectively, a good friend. You're even congratulating her on her promotion as if she weren't a spoiled, airheaded bitch who never accomplished anything on her own. Christine had everything handed to her on a silver platter; her parents got her an amazing job at their company, then paid for her boob job, her nose job, her new car, and her apartment—the list goes on.

You watched the couple showing off the engagement ring under the Parisian sunset and felt like the most self-absorbed cunt on Earth. At this point, you're used to feeling like that, at least twice a day. You spent the rest of your shift watching her stories over and over until it was time to close.

“I’m heading out,” you said to Nate as you finally grabbed your stuff from the break room. The city felt colder than usual that time of year; you could feel your lips getting chapped every time you stepped outside, so you quickly wrapped your old yellow scarf around your neck while zipping up your jacket. The café was already empty; the other employees had left fifteen minutes earlier, leaving just the two of you to close up.

Nate barely looked at you when you said goodbye to him.

You didn't care.

During your walk to the bus stop, you looked around the dark street pretending you’re not totally shitting yourself under the dim streetlights—holding your purse tightly against your frame, like you're about to be mugged by the thin air.

In those moments of raw vulnerability and panic, the whole idea of vigilantism seemed pretty cool. People in latex or spandex you don't actually know, jumping off buildings and beating up bad guys, defending the working class and pretty girls in distress. That's pretty neat, uh?

And very unrealistic.

Once inside the bus and comfortably seated, you let your thoughts wander again. You didn't know what you were doing with your life anymore. You never did, in fact.

The beauty of the night, the cold air coming from the bus's open windows, and the lights of the buildings dancing against the dark sky managed to soothe some of your pain for a few minutes. Your legs ached after hours of standing behind the counter, you felt burns on your hands, and your feet were uncomfortably squeezed into shoes that were a size too small.

Gradually, you fell asleep leaning against the bus seat, thinking about a nice pair of shoes you saw in the mall three days ago.

The first thing you noticed while slowly waking up was how comfortable you felt. The fabric beneath your body was as soft as silk, and the scent of fresh lavender emanating from it indicated that it had been recently washed—fuck, what is this? Heaven? You whined, shoving your whole face against it and breathing in.

Yeah, that’s definitely lavender—

Wait.

Public transportation didn’t smell like lavender, last time you checked. Your whole body went rigid as a cold shiver ran down your spine.

You immediately opened your eyes.

Fuck, fuck. What the fuck is happening?

You weren't on a bus anymore, that's for sure. Jesus, where's your purse?

“Fuck!” you almost screamed in pure panic as a painful sensation spread between your ribs and stomach, burning so much it seemed to take your breath away as you tried to sit up.

You were on a bed. A king-size bed. Sitting on silk sheets.

“Oh my god, someone kidnapped me—”

You looked around the bedroom as tears immediately filled your wide eyes. Your heart raced, and your hands trembled as you tried to make sense of the unfamiliar place you had woken up in.

The growing panic and fear for your life were so overwhelming that you couldn’t even notice the beautiful, very personal decor around the room or the several photos on the walls and desk, showing your face next to people you had never seen in your entire life.

"Oh, miss, thank God you're awake" a gentle voice said — is that a british accent? — close to the bedroom's door.

That's it, you're going to be killed by a weird, rich old man, and he's going to sell your organs on the black market.

Oh God, you quietly sobbed, you've always slept on the bus on your way back home, and you've never had any problems before—

Through the tears that blurred your vision, you could finally make out the figure of a tall man slowly approaching your bed. He was holding a cup of tea and a plate with what looked like a sandwich.

A cucumber sandwich.

"It seems like you may have hit your head quite hard. And your ribs," he said, handing you the cup and placing the plate on the bedside table. The man sighed loudly. "Master Damian really needs to contain his enthusiasm during sparring sessions."

The cup shook in your left hand as you looked at him with tearful eyes. He politely pretended not to notice your desperate state or the tears in the corners of your eyes as he walked back to the door.

"Hey, Alfie, have you seen my white socks?" another voice called out, this time from the hall.

"They're still on your bedroom drawers, Master Dick."

"Oh, right, sorry."

Wait, that was Batman's butler or—

Your vision faded to black as you collapsed back onto the silk sheets.

tag-list: @rosescarlettx, @btsloveer07-blog, @rainbowstar, @xingyunny, @mikyapixie, @sheep-from-rad, @fandomly-obsessed, @migilore, @natsukicookies, @candlewitch-cryptic, @socialmess-jery, @mona1704, @dieforcoffee26, @stupouid, @astrelz, @dind1n, @cxcilla, @mimi-sanisanidiot, @ceridwyn3, @sunako50

560 notes · View notes

thealtoduck · 4 days ago

Text

Howl - Being adopted by Jason Todd…

Jason Todd x Adopted!Son Reader

Batfamily x Male Reader

Warnings: Death, you become an orphan, kidnapping (you), the Mad Hatter being his usual very creepy self, child mental torture (also you) , Jason struggling to be a dad…

Summary: After a being rescued from the hands of Mad Hatter, you have no one to turn to except a stranger in a red hood…

(A/n: The ultimate ”guy/girl who’s going to be okay” song, I have no idea what the lyrics actually say but I’m right…)

——

Growing up in the East End your family had always struggled to get by. And after your mom passed away from illness things just got worse.

Because of your financial struggles your dad ended up in the hands of the Mad Hatter, working as a henchman. He knew it was wrong but wanted to do the best for you to be able to go to school and not go hungry and cold.

But after a while he couldn’t take the guilt of working for someone as evil as the Hatter and planned to quit… but someone wasn’t gonna let that happen.

The Mad Hatter was going to make an example of him, to those planning on leaving him. So he targeted you… On your way home from school he sent his henchmen to take you. Giving you a shot of one of his hypnotic serums to put you to sleep…

Once you woke up you were in a dark cold room, the room was filthy and painted to look like a wonderland. You then noticed you had been stripped and dressed in a onesie that looked like a mouse. You had been chained around the waist to the wall.

You tried to call for help but nothing…

Hours later the door opened and a unsetling voice could be heard ”Wakey wakey, little Dormouse”. Through the door came a creepy looking man in a top hat. You backed against the wall cold brick wall, praying that you could just fall back through it. ”Who are you?” you said trying to not let your voice tremble.

”Why I’m your dad’s boss… although he has been looking for a career change” the man turned back towards the door and waved his hand saying ”Bring him in”. Two men came in dragging your dad who was severly beaten up.

”Dad!” you screamed and try to run to your father but the chain around your waist wouldn’t let you. ”Y/n” your dad said weakly. The creepy man then said joyfully to your father ”See what happens when you leave wonderland, you ruin everybody else’s fun”.

You the realised who was standing in front of you… The Mad Hatter. You felt tears sting in your eyes. ”Please let us go” you begged. But the Mad Hatter only smiled at you and said ”But we’ll have so much fun you and I, we’ll have a tea party”.

He then turned his smile to a frown and said ”But as for your father… he’s not invited”. Then he smiled wickedly at you and said ”Off… with… his… head!”. The henchmen immediately started beating your dad mercilessly as you begged them to stop. Meanwhile the Mad Hatter just cackled loudly.

Soon your dad’s lifeless body layed on the floor infront of you. The Mad Hatter and his henchmen left without a word… not even sparing you a glance. You cried for hours, begging the Hatter wouldn’t comeback.

When what you could only assume was a day later had passed, you heard something outside the room. Loud noises. Voices. You shrunk into the corner as if to hide yourself, even though there was nothing to hide behind.

Maybe the Mad Hatter was coming to kill you now…

Then the door creaked open slowly making you cover your mouth to not make a noise. The door opened fully revealing a man, not the Mad Hatter… someone else.

He wore a Red Helmet but he seemed to have spotted you… And you could just hear him say quietly ”That fucking sicko”. He then spotted your dad’s body and walked slowly towards you. You raised a fist at him but he said in a calm tone ”Don’t worry, you’re safe now”.

He set you free from the chains and you ran over to your dad, his body was cold as ice, you knew there was no way to save him. You started weeping and the hooded figure knelt beside you putting a hand on your shoulder.

After letting you cry for as long as you needed, the man said ”We should go” and he guided you out of the room. You were shaking as he walked you out of the Hatter’s lair. You were met with Batman surrounded by all of his sidekicks who had captured the Hatter. You only now realized you had been saved by THE Red Hood.

”Red Hood, what took you so lo-” Batman started cutting himself off as he noticed you. Everyone was silent for a moment. Red Hood then said ”I’ll explain later but we need to get him to hospital to see he’s alright”. ”Right” Batman answered understandingly.

They took you to a hospital, where you were first checked over by doctors and then spent the night there. When you woke up you found that a ”Get well soon” balloon had been tied to the end of your bed.

Shortly after you were taken into foster care for a while, until a foster care worker asked you to come to her office. Inside was the foster care worker and a relatively young man, probably only in his mid-twenties. ”Y/n, please come in” the worker said.

You did as told and she said ”This is Mr Jason Todd”. The young man held out a hand for you to shake, which you did politely and confused. ”Mr Todd, would like to speak with you in private, If that’s alright?” she asked. You looked the man up and down suspiously but said ”Okay”. ”Good, I’ll be right outside if you need me” the worker said leaving the two of you alone.

”How are you doing, after everything?” Mr Todd asked. ”I’m… managing” you said a bit unsure. ”I wanted to come check on you, since… since I was the one who found you there” he explained.

”You’re the Red Hood?” you asked.

”Yeah” he answered softly. You didn’t ask any further questions about it.

”The world feels so empty now” you stated. Jason felt his heart break knowing what you meant ”I understand”. The two of you talked for a while before Jason said ”I would like to offer you something”.

You became quiet. ”Would you like to come live with me?” he said. You were caught off-guard first and only said ”… what”. He then proceeded to explain again, that he’d like to adopt you. You were unsure at first but looked him in the eyes, they had a kind warm depth to them. You trusted him.

”Yes. I would” you said.

——

It was weird living together at first. Jason didn’t want to cross any boundaries as if he was a ”replacement dad” and you were unsure how to act around your adopted father. You were both just not sure how you fit in to the others life.

But Jason would still do his best to spend time with you in different ways, helped you decorate your room, help you with your homework, cook together, take you to the arcade, etc…

Jason’s family was also very welcoming with you when you first visted the Wayne manor to meet them, obviously they’d have to tell you about being the bat-family.

There was also the slightly awkward yet funny moment of realising Damian was technically your uncle despite being around the same age as you.

But Damian would 100% pick up the cool protective uncle role for you and if ANYONE messes with you, there’s now a target on their back. He also now owns a t-shirt that says ”Favorite Uncle”.

They would start giving you some light combat training, mainly for self-defence but also incase you’d like to join the Bat-Family when you’re older.

You and Jason would also start your own family tradition of getting take out and watching movies together on friday nights. Sometimes inviting his family or his or your friends to join.

During one of those nights when the two of you had been up to 2 in morning watching a bunch of movies, Jason noticed you had gotten sleepy and said ”You should probably get to bed”. ”Yeah” you said yawning.

As you stood up and walked to your room you turned to Jason and said in a sleepy tone ”Goodnight Dad”. Jason froze on spot. He didn’t know if it was just because you were so tired but you had called him dad.

And he felt a warmness in his heart and said quietly ”Goodnight Son”.

#jason todd x male reader #jason todd x son!reader #jason todd x male!reader #jason todd x son reader #red hood x male reader #red hood x male!reader #batfam x male reader #batfamily x male reader #batboys x male reader #batboys x male!reader #dc x male reader #dc comics x male reader #batfam x male!reader #batfamily x male!reader #x son reader #x son!reader #x male reader #x male!reader

154 notes · View notes

fanfics-i-find-here · 2 months ago

Text

Do I Know You? Part 8

Jason Todd x Reader

Synopsis: You get Chili dogs with Jason.

Notes: I have been watching far too many biker couples on TikTok and I think it shows. I am trying to slowly drag out some of Jason's slightly strange qualities (because he was dead after all). Also, he may or may not have gotten horny for a couple of seconds, I don’t know what happened. This chapter is super sweet with a little bit of continuation of our miscommunication from the last chapter. Enjoy!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Masterlist

You woke up early the next day (Unnecessarily early) and got ready. You tried to focus on how calm you felt after Red Hood helped you prep so you didn’t get overly anxious again. At noon, you began the trek to Jackie’s. It was earlier than needed, but you didn’t want to be late. As it turned out you weren’t the only one anxious about being late. Jason was already there, sitting at one of the patio tables, tapping on his phone. You really needed to get his phone number.

“Hey there Stranger,” you say just as you hear his phone quietly say Delicious! You stifle a laugh and keep your face composed. If he’s surprised to see you early, he doesn’t show it.

“Are you playing Candy Crush?” you ask as you settle next to him to glance at his phone. He meets your eye when he speaks.

“How’d you know?”

“Your sounds on?” you ask confused. Jason always seemed like a conscious person, always aware of what was going on around him. You didn’t take him for someone to leave the sound on his phone.

“Is that bad?” He asks and you find his tone genuine. It makes you want to furrow your brows in confusion. Sometimes you were seriously socially inept but even you know it was more courteous to mute your phone when you didn’t need the sound, like when playing a game.

“It's not fabulous,” you respond, “you can mute the sound in the game, so you don’t have to turn the sound off on your phone.” You help him finish his level and then help him find the settings in the app to turn off the sound. You get a strange sense that Jason isn’t used to a smartphone. You feel the same way you feel when you help your mom or dad with their phones; they have no clue how to handle it. With the sound of the game muted, he goes to slide his phone into his pocket. You figure now is a better time than any.

“Wait,” he pauses, “can we exchange numbers?” you ask. You see a look cross his face that you can’t decipher but he nods and hands you his phone unlocked. You shuffle a little closer so he can still see the screen as you add in your contact and send a quick text to yourself. As you hand him his phone back you realize how close you are, warm shoulder pressed to yours. You pull back and quickly stand.

“Hot dogs?” you ask. He rhythmically taps the corner of his phone against his leg as he watches you in the way he always does. That way that makes your heart beat faster and your breath catch in your throat. In that way, you still don’t know whether or not it makes you uncomfortable. He finally nods and stands. You take a deep breath now that he’s not watching you, but it doesn’t last long as his hand gently pushes you forward towards his bike.

There’s a leather jacket you’ve never seen on him before draped across the seat along with two helmets.

“Ever ridden on a motorcycle before?” He asks while he hands you a helmet. You take it and absentmindedly answer.

“Once, not with a helmet though.” You turn it in your hands. It's bulky and you understand how this could save a life.

“You should always wear a helmet, Sweetheart.” He reprimands and you playfully glare at him for the tone. He just rolls his eyes and nudges your helmet.

“Put it on.” He says as he slides his own on. You watch intently to make sure you’ll do it right, ignoring a certain rattling jar in the corner of your mind. You mimic him, sliding the helmet over your head and you’re shocked by how much sound becomes muffled. You knock the side of the helmet with your fist to listen to how loud it would be. You see Jason squint at you where his visor has been moved up and you think he's smiling.

“Is that it? You just put it on?” you ask patting where your cheeks would be. His helmet subtlely shakes in no motion.

“Not even close” he pulls the jacket off the bike, and you should have thought about how weird it was considering he was already wearing his usual black leather jacket. He shakes the jacket out and holds it up so you can slide into it. It’s a nice brown and too large for you. You think it might be familiar but you're not sure why. You pull at the collar and try to pull up the sleeves with no success despite the leather creased from being rolled up before. You huff at them and turn to Jason to ask for help. He stares at you differently than he usually does. You can’t see the rest of his face, but his eyes are focused on the jacket resting on you.

“Little big don’t you think?” his eyes snap up and meet yours and you wish you knew what he was thinking.

“It’s the only other one I have, sorry” He takes a step closer and his hand curls around the bottom of your helmet pulling you forward. You stumble a little and your hands land on his waist, fingers curling onto the fabric of his jacket as you steady yourself. Your eyes widen and you're about to ask him what the hell he’s doing when he pushes your chin up. Your neck bends awkwardly and you feel his hands moving under your chin, and then you feel the fabric.

Straps. There was a chin strap on the helmet. He was doing it for you. Your fingers tighten slightly in his jacket as you stare at the sky. Once he’s finished, he pulls your head back straight with the chin of the helmet. Your eyes meet his, still wide and you realize you had stopped breathing. You suck in a shaky breath as he watches you. His hands come to rub at your arms as he speaks.

“Sorry, Sorry, I’m almost done,” he says in a calming manner as he pulls your hands from his jacket and takes a step back only to lean forward and grab at the hem of the jacket you’re wearing. He fits the teeth to the zipper and pulls it up. You stand there, unsure, fists clenching at your side. You wish you would say something, but you don’t know what. Even if you did have something to say, you don’t think you could over the lump of emotion in your throat. He stands straight and gives you a once-over with a nod. Your hands meet in front of you as you fiddle with the sleeves of the jacket. After a second, he steps close again tapping at the side of your helmet.

“Everything comfortable? Nothing too tight?” He asks. You stare at the collar of his shirt because you’re not sure what you’ll do if you meet his eye again. You nod your head as he asks and then shake it. He pauses a moment, and you can feel him watching you the way he usually does, and for once it makes you comfortable instead of unsure. He proceeds to give you a rundown of bike safety about leaning and bracing. He gets on the bike to demonstrate, and you try to stay focused on what he’s talking about, mind straying only briefly to less appropriate thoughts.

“I think that’s it. You ready?” he asks as he starts the bike.

You finally find your voice as you nod, “Yeah I’m ready.” You don’t think he can hear you over the bike, but he pats the seat behind him and then sticks out his hand. You take it and follow his instructions from earlier. Placing one foot on the peg and swinging your leg over the seat, your hand in his steadying yourself. You finally let go sitting upright on the bike. He pats your thigh and then does a thumbs-up. You mimic him in his line of sight, and he grabs your hand and pulls it around his waist. His other hand reaches behind him to hold your other hand to meet the first hand. He pats your hands there and you lightly rub at his chest. He revs the bike, and your hold tightens despite the bike not moving. You feel his body shake slightly and you think he’s laughing at you before he finally pulls out onto the street.

Jason was, for lack of better terms, losing it. He had told himself last night that this wasn’t a date, but damn did feel like one. He couldn’t help himself. Blame it on being dead during his late teen years, but sometimes he felt extremely out on social cues. He was going to let you do up the jacket and helmet. Honestly, he was! But then you stood there in his Red Hood jacket (it was the only other one he had) and it was like he was possessed. To be fair last night’s Robe debacle didn’t help, what with your pretty legs on display. Now with you in his jacket, he could make a semi-complete picture in his mind and it was not family friendly. To help tamp down any urges that would be unsavory in public, he chose to be close to you instead, which did not help as much as he thought it would. Your wide eyes and grasp on his jacket almost made him pull the helmet right off you and kiss you senseless. He realigned his focus on buckling the helmet. But then he met your eyes, still wide and you breathed like that. All those thoughts dropped from his mind. He worried he was making you uncomfortable, so he took a step back to give you some space but still helped you with the jacket. He weighed your anxious stepping and fidgeting as he watched you for a moment and he realized you hadn’t said anything the entire time.

Jason had been watching you waitress at Jackie's for a while (he hated to admit it) and you were never afraid of putting some douchebag hitting on you in their place. He expected you to do the same thing to him but now you just looked nervous, and he remembered the mess you had been in the night before. You thought this might be a date and he doesn’t think he's helping with that. He needed to tone it down. But then you were on the bike, and you had to hold onto him, so he showed you and you rubbed his chest. He could melt into a puddle.

Focus, he told himself, you have to drive. He took his time, not wanting to scare you. Easy on the turns and no racing. You handled it like a champ, relaxing into the ride a few minutes in. You must not get out of your little area of Gotham much because you would tap his helmet and point to random things that found your interest always with one hand on his stomach. Once Robinson Park came into view, he found some parking and you didn’t let go of him until the bike was turned off, hesitating even then. He offered his hand again and helped you off the bike. He followed suit, pulling his helmet off and shaking his hair out. Once he was done, you took a step forward and tipped your head back, practically bouncing on your toes. He watches you confused. After a moment, you stop bouncing and drop your head back down. You push the visor up on the helmet so he can see your eyes.

“Will you undo the strappy things?” You asked happily. Your eyes practically glittered with excitement, at least the parts he could see from your squinting grin. He hadn’t made you uncomfortable then. He nods slowly and you tip your head back again. He pulls the zipper of the jacket down slightly, entirely selfish because it gave him a nice view of your exposed neck (he feels a moment of disguise for himself for the thoughts he has just about your neck but that slips away as you hop incessantly). He quickly undoes the strap and steps out of your bubble so you can pull the helmet. Your hair is a mess of static flyaway, but you have the giddiest grin he’s ever seen on your face, with a sense of childish glee. You balance the helmet on the seat of the bike and attempt to pat down your hair as you speak.

“That was nice.” You say still grinning.

“Based on your grin, I’d say it was a little more than just nice, Sweetheart,” you laugh at his comment, and he joins.

“Okay, it was…Exhilarating. I haven’t had that much fun in a long time.” you shyly admit. Your anxious habits slowly leak back into your body, grin dampening. Your excited hop melds into a more subtle stepping and your hands come up to fidget with the zipper of the jacket. You unzip it the rest of the way, showcasing your meticulously chosen shirt. You were right. He would see it and it was nice. He was right too. The leather did pull the outfit together.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” He pauses for a second, unsure if he should comment on your outfit (This was NOT a date.) but he can’t help it. He was proud of the joint effort it took to dress you, as weird as that sounded.

“I like your shirt, it’s a good color on you.” Your normal soft smile shows itself and you press your cheek to your shoulder for a second.

“You think so? I wasn’t so sure about it” Thank god for vigilante skills because the look of confusion that almost crossed his face would have led to an interesting conversation. You seemed like you had liked it last night. After the many shirts you had run through, he had pulled that one last (selfishly because it was the closest thing to red you owned) and you had quickly chosen it. He decided not to think too hard about it, considering the whole keeping shirts you don’t like conversation and because you were staring at him. You were staring at him the way he stares at you, and he quickly decides he doesn’t like it.

“I know so, now Chili dog?” you nod in response as you slip your hands into the pockets of his your jacket.

“Lead the way, oh connoisseur of hot dog stands.” He snorts and dramatically offers his elbow to you.

“Right this way, M’lady,” he says with a grin.

You pull your hand from the pocket and curl your fingers into the crook of his elbow. You’re quiet as he pulls you down the street. This walk feels different than your usual walks. The weather was decent enough when you left your apartment, it's why you had opted not to bring your own sweater. Now though, you were happy Jason had brought a jacket and that he was letting you stand so close to him. His warmth seeps into you, fending off the drop in temperature. You worry you're extremely unprepared as you see clouds gather in the sky. Your worrying is cut short as Jason pulls you into a short line at an unassuming hot dog cart.

“What's so special about this guy's hot dogs?” You ask passively as you stand on your tiptoes to look around someone's shoulder, you lean away from Jason but keep your hold on his elbow to balance yourself. You feel him shift slightly and when you turn back to him, he’s already watching you.

“Antonio is the definition of Gotham’s survivors. He used to be a goon for Two Face, just trying to take care of his family.” You cut in before he can continue.

“Goon?” you question, the term feeling strange on your tongue.

“Right, you’re not from Gotham. It's like a lackey or employee, I guess? The point is he was working for Two-Face. Anyways when you’re working for two bosses, and you don’t know which one you’re talking to… let's just say you're more likely to end up with a bullet in your head.” Your lip quirks in disgust at his phrasing but you know it’s the truth.

“He decided it wasn’t worth it, so he chose to do something better.”

“A hot dog stand? While I appreciate the life story, it doesn’t explain why he’s the best hot dog stand.” You don’t get an answer as you finally make it to the front of the line.

“Eh, my boy Jason! How you been, kid?” Antonio says. If you thought Darla’s Gotham accent was thick, you were wrong. It took you a few seconds to decipher what he was saying with how fast he spoke. Jason, however, had no issues.

“Doin’ just fine, Antonio. How about you? How’re the kids?” he asked. You were a little startled. You knew Jason grew up in Gotham, he told you that himself, but it wasn’t obvious until this moment. The man suddenly had an accent you had never heard from him. You stare at him as he talks to Antonio and orders. He pays and takes the Chili dogs. You're pretty sure that they had briefly talked about you, but you were still in shock. Jason nudges you to walk and you nearly trip over yourself.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he says amused, and leads you to a bench. You sit down next to him and continue to stare at him incredulously. He offers you the hot dog, but you just continue to stare.

“Something on my face?”

“Who are you?” you blurt out.”

“What?” A look of startled panic crosses his features.

“What do you mean ‘what’? I have never heard you speak like that! That was a whole other person.”

“What are you talking about?” He seems genuinely confused but you have sudden distrust for him.

“What am I talking about? I’m talking about your sudden accent that is conveniently gone now, by the way.” You say finally taking the hot dog from him. He’s quiet for a moment, brows drawn in a thoughtful expression.

“I’m going to be completely honest with you,” he speaks slowly, “I had no idea I did that. Now that you mention it, I guess I do change the way I speak around certain people. Sorry.”

“Don’t take it personally,” you shrug, “It just really threw me off. I didn’t expect it. So, this is a Gotham Chili dog?” you look down at it in your hand. It wasn't quite what you had pictured. It had chili on it but also had peppers and onions on top of that and what honestly looked like a French fry.

“This feels excessive.” You add.

“The best of Jersey and Chili dogs all on one. Try it.” He looks at you expectantly.

“Don’t watch me, that’s weird.” You chide nervously.

“Fine,” he grins, “together?” He picks up his chili dog. You nod and join him.

You wish you could that he was right. That it was about the cart and the person making the chili dog. That this was the best thing you had ever tasted. But that would make you a liar. Your face twinges as you bite into the hot dog and try to chew slowly before swallowing it harshly. You rub your lips together preparing to face Jason with sad news. Maybe you could fake it. Your eyes meet his as you swallow nothing trying to force down a gag. You give him a closed-mouth smile. You’re a worse actress than you thought because he barks out a laugh. It takes him a minute before settling down.

“That bad, huh?”

“I’m so sorry,” the guilt genuine on your features, “I just can’t do it.”

He offers you a spoon from nowhere, “then scrap it off, unless you want me to get you a new hot dog.” You stare at the spoon. You had the feeling he knew you weren’t going to like it, considering he was prepared. You take the spoon gingerly, an unnamed emotion growing in your chest.

“I’ll just scrap it off.” You start scraping the chili into the paper dish it had come in.

“Are you sure?” he ducks down slightly trying to catch your eye, “I can buy a regular one.”

You glance at him, “It’s okay, you already paid for this one and you were ready with a spoon. I have all I need.” You lightly bump your shoulder against his and it seems to reassure him enough as he goes back to eating. The hot dog cleared off, and you ate it leisurely watching the clouds from earlier turn darker. You’re pretty sure it’s going to rain (shocking for Gotham). Food finished Jason collects your trash and throws it away. He follows your line of sight.

“We should head back. Ready for the ride?” He asks. You perk back up at the thought of his bike. A proud smile graces his features for a moment, and he offers his hand. You take it and he pulls you up just as you feel a drop of cold water on your face, a light sprinkle of rain begins. Jason doesn’t hesitate to tug you by your hand into a jog to his bike. In a matter of minutes, the sprinkle has turned into a straight downpour. Bike in sight, Jason drags you under a nearby weeping willow. The rain is lighter and softer but still coming through. You pause there to catch your breath. At that moment, you feel Jason's hand in yours, warm and sturdy. You don’t want to let go. Not that he was trying to pull away anyway.

“You okay?” he asks as his other hand attempts to brush off the water on your borrowed jacket. With no success, his hand moves to push your wet hair out of your face.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say still breathless, fighting the urge to lean into his touch. His eyes scan over your face and the tips of his fingers brush against your cheek before he pulls his hand away.

“I’m going to go grab the helmets. I’ll be right back.” He shouts over the rain.

“Is it safe to be on a bike in this?” you ask before he leaves. He smirks.

“Don’t worry, Baby. I’m a safe driver.” The warmth of him and his hand leaves you in a hurried run. Your heart does a hop, skip, and a jump before your nerves come back to you.

He called you Baby. Maybe this is a date.

You don’t have long to worry because he’s back with the helmets. You're quick to put the helmet on your head, hiding your face out of fear of what he might see. You zip up your jacket, tugging at the collar trying to shield your neck from the cold. You feel around blindly for the straps of the helmet and attempt to put them together. You can feel Jason watching you as you try to do up yourself. You give up quickly and he doesn’t hesitate to step forward. You wonder if he was thinking about how he called you baby like you were.

Jason was not only thinking about how he called you baby, he was panicking. He was supposed to be toning it down not dialing it! It just slipped and then he ran away before he could see your reaction, which was not a good plan. Jason disliked this very much. He wasn’t used to being unsure about something. He was a planner. He always knew where he stood and what he was doing but with you, it was like he short-circuited. It didn’t help that his experience with romance was not a lot. And the people he witnessed in relationships were also not great. Superheroes, criminals, serial daters. Not exactly a guiding light in this department. Antonio didn’t help earlier either, calling you Jason’s girl. But you had been so shocked by his accent that you didn’t hear that or how flustered he became over it. He just needed to get you home, safe and sound. Then he could worry about it later. He did up your helmet and then shouted through his helmet and the rain.

“Let’s make a break for it!” He wasn’t sure you could hear him, but you nodded so he assumed you had. He took off for the bike sliding on and turning it on. You didn’t wait for him to offer his hand this time, using his shoulder to balance as you slid onto the seat behind him. You wrap your arms around him, patting his chest and giving him a thumbs up. He drives out onto the street. He tries to take his time with the slick roads but doesn’t want you to get a cold. He contemplates just pulling up to your apartment but then you might act like you lived further down the street again and he didn’t want you in the rain. So, he pulled up to Jackie’s where you had met. You hop off the bike and he is quick to follow, dragging you into the coffee shop. He helps with the helmet again and you both sit at his usual booth. You have that glimmer in your eyes again, and he notes that you like riding on his bike.

Just as he’s about to offer to buy you something warm his phone rings. If this is Dick calling again… He doesn’t finish the thought as he fishes out his phone. You eye him curiously. Barbara. That can’t be good. She only ever calls Jason during daylight if it’s an emergency. He excuses himself from the table and answers the phone.

“Where are you?” She asks before he can say hello.

“Couple blocks from the Narrows. What’s up?” he responds.

“How fast could you make it to the Bowery?”

“20 minutes if I’m careful, 10 if I’m not”

“Don’t be careful”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oracle out” she hangs up and Jason turns to find you at the table looking out the window, admiring the rain. Despite your current drenched cat look, you look gorgeous with the warm glow of the coffee shop and still wrapped in his jacket. He really didn’t want to leave you but, evidently, it was an emergency. He returns to the table but doesn’t sit, rapping his knuckles against the table gently to get your attention. You turn to look at him and the urge to stay grows ten times.

“Work called, I gotta go. It’s an emergency” A slight pout overtakes your lips, but you nod.

“You need your jacket back.” You start to unzip the material, but he stops you.

“Just hold onto it til I see next, okay?” you concede with another nod. He taps the table one more time. He really had to go.

“Text me when you get home, please?” He had wanted to walk you home like a gentleman, but this would have to do.

“I will, I will. Go, you have an emergency.” You shoo him with a smile., “And thank you for a lovely day, Jason. I enjoyed myself.”

“I did too, Sweetheart,” he takes a step from the table, “I’ll be waiting to hear from you.” And then he's out the door with both the helmets and on his way to deal with whatever idiot dragged him away from you.

Additional note: They getting closer and moves are almost happening but they are both disasters. Thank you for reading! If you are reading this before Sunday (January 12 CST) please go do the poll for the next chapter. It currently looks like a darker chapter may be on our horizon.

Tag List: @little-miss-naill, @nikilolo787, @joonunivrs, @uzxotic, @qardasngan, @stormz369, @g4bbi3xx, @iwatobiswimbros, @the-lonely-flute, @elz-xo, @gone-batty-fics, @princessesgarden, @notfckincreative, @love-theangel

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #do i know you?#kandywrites #fanfics-i-find-here

152 notes · View notes

kaleidoscopewritings19 · 3 months ago

Text

Bruce Wayne x Bat!Mom

Title: Please Come Home for Christmas

Warning(s): NONE

Character(s): Bruce Wayne, f!x reader/Batmom, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth

Prompts used are in bold and italicized; italicized paragraphs are flashbacks/memories; song used is Please Come Home For Christmas (words are in red/italicized.)

SONG CAN BE PLAYED AT THIS SYMBOL 🎵 and the song should end about the time the last verse has been typed out. Song will be linked at that music note for your convenience. But here’s the link to song

MY WORKS ARE NOT TO BE TRANSLATED OR POSTED ANYWHERE ELSE! ©️

______

Christmas was your favorite holiday; the Christmas lights, the ambiance, the decorations, and being surrounded by your family made you feel complete.

The boys were in charge of decorating the seven foot Christmas tree. It was the first year you and Bruce had decided to let them take over putting up the tree and decorating it. While the boys decorated the tree in the living room, you were in the kitchen baking sugar cookies with the assistance of Bruce, while Alfred instructed the boys.

Bruce was going through the box of cookie cutters, “Seriously? You have a Batman cookie cutter?” He asked and you smiled, while pouring the two of you a glass of wine. “Of course. I figured we could do a Batman Christmas themed cookie.” Bruce rolled his eyes, and found the ziploc bag full of the normal Christmas cookie cutters.

As the two of you rolled out the cookie dough and began cutting out the festive shapes, the boys could be heard arguing in the living room. You wiped your hands on your apron, and Bruce followed quietly behind you.

Jason and Dick were trying to pull the Christmas tree out of the box, with Damian instructing them. “You have to shimmy it!” He yelled at his two older brothers. “SHIMMY!…. SHIMMY!….. SHIMMY!!”

“SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!” Jason yelled. Alfred walked over to the credenza and poured himself a glass of bourbon before downing it in one gulp. Tim was in the corner testing the lights, and Damian turned to look over at you and Bruce. “Don’t we have people to do this?” He asked and Bruce shook his head.

“No. Since your mom and I got married, we always decorated the interior of the house. You don’t need hired help for everything, Damian.” He said, and Damian flung back on to the couch.

You walked over to the couch and ruffled Damian’s hair, “These type of things take time. Decorating is supposed to be fun, and not a chore. So c’mon. Get up. Dad and I can help get the tree out of the box.”

You and Bruce helped get the tree out of the box and then fluffed out the branches. “There, now all you boys have to do is decorate it.” You stood up from the floor, and the tone in the room seemed more bright.

Alfred walked over to the record player and put on an old Christmas record, “It wouldn’t be Christmas decorating if we didn’t have on a record.”

The boys agreed with him simultaneously, and then got to work sorting out the different ornaments. Bruce followed you back into the kitchen, and continued to cut out and bake the remainder of the cookie dough. When you had placed the last sheet of cookies into the oven, Bruce pressed a kiss to your lips. “I’ll be right back.”

You sipped from your glass of wine, and Bruce brought a smaller record player into the kitchen. He delicately placed a vinyl down, and music filled the kitchen.

The all too familiar tune of Please Come Home for Christmas filled your ears- the voices of the Eagles (one of your favorite bands) sang the first lyric. You smiled at Bruce, and he walked around the kitchen island.

He took the glass of wine from your hands and sat it down on the marble counter top. “May I have this dance, Mrs. Wayne?” He asked and you pulled his body into yours. “Always.”

He held your hips firmly and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

My baby’s gone, I have no friends

To wish me greetings once again..

His forehead leaned against yours, and the two of you swayed to the music. Unbeknownst to you, Alfred and the boys watched from the pass-through window, but the two of you were too lost in each other to notice. “Why are they dancing to a sad song?” Jason asked and Alfred watched the two of you in awe.

“Let me tell you a story.” Alfred started and the boys turned their attention to Alfred. “Your parents had married on December 15th— this year will be their 15th wedding anniversary. Your mum was 22 years of age and your father 25. They had decided they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together.” The boys listened intently,

“Your father, had just become the Batman, and didn’t want to take a break from it. Even if it was taking time from them celebrating this new adventure in life. Your mum had left, because he decided that being Batman was far more important than staying home for a couple of weeks.”

You and Bruce had insisted on Alfred taking the night off so the two of you could celebrate your honeymoon, and decorate the Christmas tree alone. Bora Bora was the plan, but you had wanted to celebrate Christmas at home, and Bruce agreed. You were sitting on the floor next to Bruce as he opened a box of Christmas tree lights. “I don’t care what the box says, these lights are definitely not untangled.” Bruce mumbled, and you smiled.

“There’s glitter in my hair, on my clothes, and somehow, in my coffee. This is chaos.” You replied and Bruce pressed a kiss to your temple. “Well, you look hot covered in glitter.”

The two of you helped each other decorate the tree, and shared kisses in between. Wayne Manor was being filled with Christmas music, laughter, and lots of love.

The Christmas tree was big, bright, and beautiful. It lit up the entire room, and the fire crackling set the perfect ambiance. Bruce laid out blankets and pillows in front of the fireplace, and he convinced you that instead of sleeping in the bed, the two of you could sleep in front of the fireplace.

The two of you had fallen asleep in each other’s arms, wrapped up in nothing but the blankets. When you had woken up, your watch read 11:47 PM, and Bruce was no where to be found.

You had checked the bedroom, bathroom, the study, and even the garage. Then it had dawned on you; he was probably down in the batcave. You slipped on your silk robe, and pressed the keys on the piano, and the bookcase had opened, revealing the long, dark cave entrance.

The cool air nipped at your skin, and sure enough, there was Bruce on the platform in the middle of the water. He was pulling on his armor, and you started to walk across the short bridge; the sound of the waterfall covering the sounds of your feet.

“Bruce, what are you doing?” You asked and he jumped a little.

“Well, I decided to patrol. There’s a lot of criminal activity tonight.” He said as he turned around in the chair to face you.

You stepped in front of him; his hands traced up your bare leg, then pulling you closer to his body. You looked down at him, your fingers running through his hair, “I thought we had agreed that you wouldn’t patrol for two weeks. That we would enjoy our honeymoon, and Christmas together.”

He stood up from the chair and he sat his cowl on the desk. “It will just be tonight, baby.” He said as his fingers combed through your hair.

His eyes were your weakness, and he knew you would break underneath his gaze, “I promise it will just be for tonight.“ he whispered, and you loosened the tie to your robe, revealing your naked frame to him. A smirk worked its way across his face, and he pulled you closer to him, “When I get home, I’ll make it up to you Mrs. Wayne.”

Bruce pressed a kiss to your neck, and you sighed while covering up your body. “Fine. But only for tonight.”

But ‘only for tonight’ turned into a week. He went out every night that week, and you had decided enough was enough. One night, when Bruce had left, you packed a suitcase and booked a trip to London. If you were going to spend your honeymoon alone, you were going to have fun alone- in a different country.

“So your mum left the country and went to London. Your father, of course, did not notice she was gone until the afternoon of the next day.” Alfred stated, and he brought the boys to the living room to finish telling the story.

“Master B called me in a panic, and I came home straightaway. I feared that one of the adversaries had figured out who the Batman was, and took Miss Y/N.” Alfred pulled a piece a paper from the display books on the coffee table. “I found this note on this very coffee table, explaining where she was. Your father back then… He could be quite oblivious to these sort of things.”

~~~~~~~~~

Dearest Bruce,

I love you with all of my heart, but spending these nights alone made me realize that maybe I wasn’t meant to be the wife of the Batman. I married you, Bruce. I find it tough to share you with the people of Gotham. Deep down, I know this city needs you- desperately. But I need you too. I am going to London for the remainder of our honeymoon, and I promise I will come back to Gotham so we can sort all of this out.

With love,

Y/N

~~~~~~~~~

The boys passed the letter around, “Why didn’t she just stay and tell him?” Jason asked and Alfred shrugged his shoulders.

“Your father could hear words, but he never truly listened. They were young, Jason. Communicating is something that is learned throughout the course of marriage. It’s not always easy, and it takes two to learn, grow, and adapt with one another. Luckily, your parents worked through it, and learned.” Alfred stated and no one noticed you and Bruce standing in the doorway.

“Well, what happened next?” Tim asked and Bruce answered.

“When Alfred found the note, I read it. I realized I promised to take time off from Batman and spend time with my wife. And I didn’t keep that promise.” Bruce sat down in the recliner, and you sat down on the arm of the chair.

His hand rested on your lower back, “I didn’t know how to distribute my time- she was my girlfriend when I started Batman. She had her own life, and it wasn’t until after she left I realized that she gave up a part of her life to create one with me. She couldn’t do that alone.”

You turned to look at Bruce, “I went after her, and the entire trip there, all I could think about was the promise I made and didn’t keep. Most people wouldn’t see it as a big deal, but I made a commitment to you. A life long commitment- and if I didn’t keep my promise for those two weeks like you had asked, how would you ever trust my future promises, or the promises I made when we exchanged our vows?” He spoke to you directly now.

Bruce stared up into your eyes, and he pulled you down to his lap, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Going after you, was the best decision I ever made.” He pressed a kiss to your lips, and the boys made gagging sounds.

“Ew! Please stop!”

“Get a room!”

“Wait- what did them dancing to that sad song have anything to do with their marital problem?” Damian asked, and you turned to look at them.

You looked at Bruce for confirmation to finish the story. Bruce nodded and his cheeks turned red, “Well, I left the 22nd, and he didn’t find out where I was until the afternoon of the 23rd. Then it took him until the 24th to find pilots to fly the Wayne jet, and that night he arrived in London.” You smiled at Bruce. “So on the night of Christmas Eve, I decided to have dinner in the hotel’s restaurant. I wore my best dress, and strange enough, there was no one else in the dining hall. The lights were dimmed, and the waiter took me to a table in the middle of the room.”

Alfred took a seat on the couch, and smiled. “There was a candle, and two wine glasses and a bottle of my favorite red wine. I turned to the waiter and explained that it was just me, but he pushed my chair in and walked away.”

Bruce hid his face in your hair, “The stage lights turned on, and there was a group of men on the stage, and the opening notes to Please Come Home for Christmas started to play. 🎵

When my eyes had adjusted to these lights, lo and behold, the Eagles, were standing in front of me.”

“Bells will be ringin' the sad, sad news

Oh, what a Christmas to have the blues

My baby's gone, I have no friends

To wish me greetings once again”

You sat there in shock, and then through the corner of your eye, Bruce was standing at the edge of the stage. Slowly, you stood up and Bruce walked over to you; he was wearing his best suit and tie. All you could do was stare at him and then back at the stage, “You did this?” You asked and Bruce nodded.

“May I have this dance?” He asked and you gave him your hand.

Bruce pulled you into his body, his right hand held your waist, and his left hand met your right hand. You stared up into his eyes, and he leaned his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, as he spun you out away from him, and then he pulled you back into his strong embrace. “I didn’t keep my promise. I feel terrible about it. But I feel even worse that it took you leaving for me to notice the broken promise.”

“Sure as the stars shine above

But this is Christmas, yes, Christmas, my dear

It’s the time of year to be with the one you love.”

“Will you forgive me, Y/N? There is no one else I would rather solve problems with, or experience life with. I only want you. Please come home for Christmas.” He whispered in your ear, and you pulled away from him.

All you could say was “Yes.” And Bruce’s hand held the back of your head as he pressed a kiss to your lips.

“There'll be no more sorrow, no grief and pain

And I'll be happy, happy once again.”

When he pulled away you pulled him back and pressed a long, needed kiss to his lips. “Thank you for coming after me.” You said against his lips, and then you smiled. “I guess there was a less dramatic way to discuss this. I’m sorry.”

Bruce shook his head, “Thank you for leaving. Otherwise, I don’t think I would have realized the error I made. I tend to hear, but not actually listen.” He said as he kissed your forehead.

“Ooh, there'll be no more sorrow, no grief and pain

And I'll be happy, Christmas once again.”

The final piano notes of the song played and you turned to Bruce, “How did you manage to get the Eagles to sing in a hotel restaurant? And why is there no one else here?” You asked and Bruce smiled as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I bought the restaurant. And as for them, I bought out an entire concert to get them here, plus some since it was Christmas.”

Bruce pulled you into a hug, and he waved for the band to play the song again.

_________

“He paid a for an entire concert? To play one song?” Dick asked and you smiled.

“No, they played their whole set list, and we had dinner with them. But it was after all of that, that meant the most to me.” You said as you looked at Bruce.”

“Ew, mom, we don’t want to hear this.” Jason said as he buried his face into a throw pillow. “Not that, Jason.” You stood up and picked up a small Big Ben ornament. Bruce stood up and followed you to tree, and his hand wrapped around yours, and he helped place the ornament on a branch in the middle.

“The clock is set to the time that your father and I kissed at our wedding, after saying I do.” You said and Bruce pulled you into a hug.

The boys surrounded the two of you, and even Alfred joined in on the hug. “So that’s why we take off from December 15th until the 29th.” Tim said and you smiled.

“Unless Gotham is in dire need of its Dark Knight. I too, have learned sometimes the city needs him more than I need him. But he somehow manages to be there for both.” You say, and Bruce pulls you into another breath taking kiss.

“Shall we go ahead and take our annual Christmas photo?” Alfred asks and you smile.

All of you gathered around the tree, and Alfred set the camera’s timer. He raced over and straightened out his suit and tie, “Everyone say SHIMMY!” Alfred shouted and everyone burst into laughter.

“SHIMMY!” Everyone exclaimed and the camera flash went off. In the photo, Damian’s mouth was agape, and he looked over at Jason who was laughing.

Then the fire alarm started blaring in the kitchen, “THE COOKIES!” You and Bruce screamed, and the two of you raced into the kitchen.

Bruce opened the smoke filled oven, and pulled out the cookie sheet with a dish towel. He dropped the pan into the sink, and after the smoke had cleared, everyone had a clear view of the cookies.

They were completely burned. All everyone could do was laugh, “They’re cookies are as hard as hockey pucks!” Jason said as he banged them in the counter. “I wonder if a bullet would go through them?” He asked out loud.

Bruce pulled you into his body and pressed a kiss to your lips. After what Jason had said processed, you looked at him, “Don’t you even think about it! No guns in the kitchen, and not shooting at the cookies!”

That night after cleaning the kitchen, the seven of you sat in the living room enjoying sugar cookies in front of the fireplace, and enjoying the view of the tree, all while playing some Wayne Family Christmas Games.

The End!

Authors Note:

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this! Comments, likes, and reblog are always appreciated. Please let me know what you thought!

xoxo

#bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x batmom #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #batman x reader #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #tim drake #batmom #alfred pennyworth

311 notes · View notes

stove-top96 · 4 months ago

Text

Water Colour Eyes

Chapter 2

Y Batfam x GN Reader

Featuring: Platonic Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne (mostly Jason)

1.8K words

I’m not the biggest fan of this chapter, I tried something new when writing it and it didn’t mix well. Chapter 3 will be a lot better. Any and all advice will be appreciated. Comment if you wanna be added to the Taglist (I hope I did it right)

You’re the first one to get cut, although you were scheduled to work the close Albertine wanted you out of there as soon as possible. Honestly you were thankful, if you stayed there any longer you’d probably break. Roa called in sick, so you were stuck fending for yourself once the Waynes left. You messed up 3 ticket orders, because of Albertine’s new no notepad policy, so you were ridiculed by the kitchen staff for being incompetent. The last 4 hours were brutal, you can’t stop thinking about how hard it is to work there. It’s so isolating, and the staff make you feel so stupid. You just can’t take it anymore, you’ve never been made to feel so incompetent and insecure anywhere else. You feel so pathetic for putting up with it, but where else can you make so much money? Being a freshman in college means your options are pretty limited.

Grabbing your coat and bag you prepare to head down to the subway station. It’s already dark out, but going home at 9:45 is a lot safer than the original 12:00. Getting home early means you’ll have more time to yourself, and you won't be bothered since your mom and her boyfriend haven’t been home for a few days. It’s the little joys in life that matter.

As you make it to the station it’s a little more crowded than usual. Something you're thankful for, there’s safety in numbers even if they’re strangers. Riding the train to your stop, even though you’re able to have the evening to yourself, thoughts of doubt still race in the back of your mind. The walk home from the station is always rough, but you get through it everytime. your lips tremble, hands shake, and eyes water, you just can’t seem to forget all the mistakes you’ve made. Even so you push it all down. You're only 15 minutes away from your apartment, so you can make it home and cry a little while you're taking a shower or something. Just make it home. Just make it home. It’s the only thing repeating in your mind, the only thing keeping you moving.

Wandering like a ghost through the streets, your thoughts distract you from everything. Just make It home. You had only two more blocks to go. Wiping the few tears that spilled down. Just make it home. You're gonna have the place to yourself, you can have a nice long shower without your step dad getting mad at you. Just make it home. You don't work another shift until Tuesday, so you won’t see them for a while. As long as you just make it home.

“Give me your money”

“What” you’re snapped back to reality as you're confronted by some junkie in the alley. “I said gimme your money” he took a few steps closer, as you inched backwards “I- I don't have any on me right now” you stuttered, hoping your answer might satisfy him. Judging from his face it didn’t. God what were you supposed to do. This man looks like he’s got at least 100 pounds on you, not that you could fight him even if you wanted. “I’m sure ya do, if ya just hand it over no one gets hurt”. He’s cornered you, you have nowhere to run now. Your heart begins to race, hands start to tremble and the tears that threatened to spill earlier are pouring down your face. This is it. you have no money on you, this man will likely beat you to death. you do the only thing you can do “HELP! Someone please!”. This pisses him off as he grabs your wrist, your heart stops as you see him raise a hand to punch. This is it.

+++++

Jason was on his usual route, he had about 2 hours to kill before he got to see you. Being the one to make sure you were safe was something he took pride in, and walking home with you was different. You were always at your most vulnerable after work, protecting you while you’re in such a fragile state brings a sense of warmth about him. You make him feel like a good person, a good brother.

The restaurant is only about 3 blocks down from his patrol route for the night, maybe he can just take a quick look, to make sure you're okay. Bruce did say something about you having a rough night or something like that, he wasn’t paying too much attention all he could think of was how he could make your manager pay without pissing Bruce off. As he nears the restaurant he’s thankful he showed up, since you're already on your way to the subway. Following you the rest of the way, it’s clear you did have a rough day. Fists clenching and grinding his teeth, his blood boils. You don't deserve any of this, you deserve nothing less than the best. Bruce’s fucked up plan to drive into despair only to pick you up is one he never agreed with. They should just save you now so nothing bad can happen on the off chance they aren’t around. Then at least you’d be protected and with them. It doesn’t matter if you fight at first cause in time you’d understand. But the family just can’t see his side, and you’re suffering because of it.

He’s never felt so useless before. He sees your pain, and wants nothing more than to lift you into his arms and set you free from all your troubles. But he can't yet, right now he’s Redhood, but soon he’ll be your brother. Only then will he be able to ease your pain, but he knows even after your wounds heal there’ll still be scares, he has them too. One day you’ll both understand each other, you share experiences that no one else in the family has. He’ll help in the way no one helped him.

As he nears the alley, he sees the man grab your wrist harshly and swing his other arm. Before the thug’s fist comes in contact with your face, he shoots, aiming for the fist about to punch you. The rubber bullet cracks and breaks the thugs hand, letting go of your wrist to writhe in pain. Within seconds redhood arrives at the scene accessing the damage. “Are you alright?” he asks, voice deep and robotic from his mask. Mind racing a thousand thoughts a second you barely comprehend what’s happening. “What..” you mutter quietly, voice cracking from the tears you shed minutes ago. “Are you alright?” He asks again, hand resting on your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you. “ I- I don’t know” you mumble to yourself as you begin to zone out into your own world. The stress of school, your mom, her boyfriend and especially work, maybe you aren’t okay? Maybe you just can’t push through anymore? You don't know anything anymore. Quickly snapping back into reality “No I'm fine, don't worry, just a little shaken, I’m normally more careful than that.” You stumble through your words, you hope it’s convincing enough, even if you look like a mess and are a little stressed out Red Hood probably saves hundreds of people in a night you can’t keep him waiting any longer. “Thank you,..” you want to say more but he probably has to head back. Gathering your things from your bag you begin the rest of the 15 minute walk back to your apartment, staying more vigilant than ever but still unaware of the masked hero following you home.

Jason’s mind never felt so separated from his body, all he wanted to do was beat the shit out of that scumbag who dared lay a hand on you. But his feelings were irrelevant, you were the only one that mattered right now. The shadows of the alley couldn’t hide your expression. you looked white as a ghost, eyes puffy and wide, your hands trembled slightly as you picked up your things. It didn’t take a genius to see how distressed you are. He wanted to do anything, say something as you walked away, but he couldn't, his body wouldn’t do anything. So he watched his little sibling walk away when they needed him most, never feeling more pathetic. Only after a few minutes of standing did he gain control, running after you to ensure you got home safely, it’s the least he could do for being a horrible brother back there.

+++++

“I believe it would be best to fire that manager” Damian's voice echoes through the Batcave as he prepares for patrol with his father. “Like I’ve told Dick, it's under consideration” Bruce’s response is curt, he understands the boy’s frustrations but in order to reach their end goal they must be patient with everything. Tim rolls his eyes, he understands why but with their current pace they’ll never grow past the current server customer relationship they have. “Have you at least considered our side of things, we can’t let people treat them like that. They’re running herself thin, they could barely smile at us tonight” Tim’s frustration is evident in his voice, why is Bruce not doing anything he understands the plan, even agrees with it but Albertine crosses a line. Bruce goes to speak but is interrupted by a call from Jason. “Yes” he goes silent as the voice on the other line speaks, his face giving nothing away. “Do you have a name?” He asks, the boys are curious. Is tonight gonna turn into something more than a simple patrol? Did a villain plan something big? “Thank you” as he hangs up, his face still doesn’t give any indication as to what was being discussed. “They were attacked” his voice monotone, but the slight furrow in his brow was a clear indicator for the rage brewing inside him. The two boys freeze, as their blood runs cold, and they seethe with rage. Someone tried to hurt their sister?

“What!? Was Todd not supposed to be watching them?” Damion did nothing to hide his rage, mind racing with different possibilities on how he could hurt his brother for his negligence. “He did, and they weren’t hurt. They got sent home early, be thankful Jason stopped by as they were leaving.” Bruce’s voice was firm, but he was lost in his own thoughts and schemes on how they can better insure your protection without interfering with their progress. “Does he have a name?” Tim asked, visibly more relaxed after knowing you were uninjured. “Greg Capullo” Bruce’s answer was short but the tone gave direct instructions. Go after him, he will turn a blind eye to whatever it is they do. Damian, wasting no time leaves the cave preparing to do his worst, while Tim heads towards the bat-computer preparing to make this man’s life miserable. Tonight was a night the criminals of Gotham would remember, as the Bats were far more brutal in every aspect than they have ever been before.

Taglist: @lilyalone @pix-stuff @caged-birdies-blog @toast-on-dandelioms

#batfam x reader #platonic batfam #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #gn reader #yandere dc x reader #yandere damian wayne #yandere bruce wayne #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake

359 notes · View notes

isavulpix · 3 months ago

Text

Jason Todd Headcanons 2

Teacher!Reader x Jason Todd

Eyes Dont Lie Masterlist (Coming soon)

Warnings: My first language isn’t English so there will be errors, I haven’t read a comic beside the webtoon one so Jason may be a bit OOC sorry.

I want to say thank you to all of y’all for liking and rebloging 🥺 y’all are so lovely. I hope y’all like this night thoughts. Edit: I decided to make it a series so check it up if you like to, thanks for the likes and reblogs <3

isavulpix masterlist

• After y’all meet, Jason can’t have a normal day. You and your damn smile pop on his mind at random times. Which makes him have a small curve on the edge of his mouth, confusing Bruce. Why is he smiling as he talks about the obligatory attendance to the gala this week?

• He hates this because come on…he can’t be thinking about the pretty teacher…is too cliche. This isn’t a love story from Christina Luren. Plus he has better things to do than thinking about the pretty teacher who smile made his heart tremble…

• So he starts to do more things to distract himself of thinking about you, and maybe it did work a little too well. Now he is in Roy and Lian apartment along Dick and a room full of little gremlins.

• Roy asked him to help him in Lian birthday party. it was Bluey theme and Roy bought her the cutest Bingo outfit 🥺

• Jason didn’t have a problem helping him, plus he can’t wait for the gift opening time to come. He bought Lian the loudest and flashiest toy he could find just to annoy Roy.

• What he didn’t expect was that Lian beside inviting her classmates, she also invited you. Her teacher…the one that he totally isn’t thinking about night and day…He is also not thinking about how gorgeous you look at the moment. The outfit, the hair, accessories, all of it helps amplify your beauty, but Jason favorite aspect is the smile you wear.

• He isn’t nervous…he just has eaten like five cupcakes, three cookies and four juices that were for the kids while trying to avoid looking at you. He is lucky Dick and Roy are too occupied with Lian and the kids to read his behavior.

• But you do, like who wouldn’t notice the hot tall man? He was just your type, but you do raise an eyebrow confused, why is he sweating as he eats? Is not even hot in here. Plus isn’t supposed to be all over his daughter?

• Yeah, you read right, daughter. You think Roy and Jason are a couple. Why? Easy, Lian always talks about her dad, uncle Dick and “Jason”. All her drawings have one or two of them, tells stories about them.

• Dick somehow bribed Lian to call uncle Jay “Jason”, he hates it and is trying to bribe her into calling him uncle Jay again. Lian loves it since she is getting more sugar than what Roy let’s her.

• You don’t know anything about her mother and since she doesn’t look like Roy you think they adopted her or something. You aren’t to stuck your nose into what doesn’t concern you, plus you did heard some moms gossip that…but it doesn’t stop you from subtly ogling Jason. Why are the hot men always unavailable?

• So imagine Jason confused face when you offer to take a photo of the dads with Lian. Like dads? Like…multiple? And why do you say it while looking at him and Roy? Oh…OH NO WAIT….

• The hamster in Jason brain has stop working and Roy realize it, so why not have fun? Roy smile and pulls Jason into the family photo. A little payback for picking up Lian late and bribing her, y’all really think Lian who is a daddy’s girl, plus a 5 year old is capable of holding a secret?

• Jason hates the photo, he has his eyes slight wide in it, while Lian smiles and Roy has an arm around his shoulder. Roy also got that photo framed in Jason apartment knowing Jason can’t take it down without dealing with a pouting Lian. Because how he dares to take down a photo of them?

• Anyways, when he comes back to reality the small celebration is done and kids are being picked up by there parents and you where long gone. Roy and Dick laugh about what just happened and tease him. He mentally curses when he realizes he didn’t had the time to tell you he isn’t with Roy…

120 notes · View notes

jasontoddsdarling · 1 year ago

Text

snow angels

— casts: jason todd x reader, aurora todd (my kid oc)

— words: 1,515

— tags: fluff, winter, family fic, family fluff, kid fic

— summary: It's Aurora Todd first winter and you two decide she should experience the ultimate first time under the snow: building some snowmen and one or two castles. And apparently also snow angels along the way.

Heavy snowfall from yesterday—that kept everyone inside the house all day long—resulted in a thick layer of snow in the backyard. You, Jason, and your fourteen months old daughter, Aurora, included. You two even built her a blanket fortress from the pile of her soft baby blankets. She was very fond of it.

Today, Jason and you decide to bring her outside.

It's her first winter, thus the first time she will experience the snowfall that blanketed the city like icing sugar dusted on a beignet.

Earlier, Jason had shoveled the snow that piled up in front of the front and back door. Thankfully, it wasn't blocking the doors that bad or else you'd feel bad about not helping him—even though he had insisted on doing it himself because she was cranky waking up and you'd have to feed her.

Now, though, your daughter is so awake and definitely not cranky anymore.

Jason has put his shovel back to the garage and changed his clothes to newer one—he had managed to sweat and drenched his sweater, and he's currently sporting a new sweater that matches the ones that you and your daughter wear.

“Papa.”

You put Aurora on her colorful foam puzzle mat. Jason, who is just getting out of your bedroom, smiling when he spots her.

“Who's going to play with snow today?”

Jason sits down on the edge of the mat and he beckons his daughter to his lap.

Aurora enthusiastically walks toward him—with her brand new baby boots that you just put on her, a big smile with her four small teeth showing.

“Nou.”

She perches her little legs on one of his thighs. You gasp and cannot help but grin. Did she just say a new word just now? Nou. Snow.

Jason beams. You can see his eyes shine with proudness.

“Yeah, snow. Snow! You, Mama, and Papa will go outside and we can build some snow castles and snowmen. Now, you need to wear these warm mittens first, okay?”

You observe the two loves of your life while packing a little thermos of jasmine tea to drink outside. These two always without fail put a smile on your face.

And oh, Jason is wearing gloves with the same color theme too because, of course, he would not want to be excluded in the matching outfits shenanigans of you and your daughter. We've to match as a cute little family, Jason had said so almost a year ago—after for the third time you and Aurora had matching outfits and he was being excluded; which in your defense, most husbands don't really care about matching outfits with their baby daughter, but you learnt it wasn't the case with Jason.

Jason tugs Aurora's mittens to make sure it's right before holding her in his arms and standing up, walking towards you who stands beside the dining table.

“Come on, Mama.” He squishes his cheek on Aurora's, whispering to pretend as if it's your daughter who’s saying that.

Aurora giggles. “Mama, mama.”

You bend down a little to kiss her rosy cheeks—and Jason steals a kiss from you when you stand straight after that—and the three of you are ready to mess with snow.

Jason has finished building one snow castle just now. It's a cool snow castle, in your opinion—considering he's only using some plastic snow toys for kids that you got for Aurora.

The kid in question sits on your lap, and is currently playing with the scallop shell plastic mold and making her nth crooked shell shaped snows with so much interest, completely oblivious to what her dad has been doing.

“Rora, look!” You pat her tiny leg gently. “Look. Papa has built you a little snow castle!”

You point your finger at the 1 meter tall snow figure. When Aurora looks up from her stuff, her eyes brighten and she moves her arms and legs excitedly, wiggling and trying to stand up from your lap.

You help her stand on her own little feet, her tiny boots scrunch the snow.

“Papa. Nou.”

Jason—who just put a twig on the center of the castle as a fake flag—grins. He waved his hands, beckoning her to walk towards him and the snow castle.

“Papa, papa.”

Aurora walks giddily.

You walk at a snail's pace to ensure that she steps safely, because you know sometimes babies and toddlers can be quite clumsy, and your daughter is no exception.

Aurora is two meters before landing herself in his dad's arm when, instead, she's landing backwards on a pile of fluffy snow with a very dull thud.

“Rora!”

Jason and you immediately shout at the same time and in less than two seconds both of you are in front of her.

Aurora is silent for a second, that you are almost panicking, but then she bursts into a fit of giggles. She moves her arms and legs in ups and downs motion, unknowingly making herself a snow angel.

“Mama, Papa.”

Aurora waves her mittens clad tiny hands. She wants you two to do what she's doing.

“Well, I guess we're making snow angels too.”

“I know. I am just glad she isn't crying.”

You release your breath you know you were holding.

You lie down beside your daughter on one side and Jason on her other side and you two proceed to make your own snow angels.

After it is quite deep, Jason gets up from where he's lying down and takes some photos of you and Aurora with his phone and instant camera he hides inside his deep coat pockets.

“One, two, three. Smile!”

And so, the next ten minutes, Jason takes a lot of photos of you and Aurora in front of the snow castle.

“These are so cute.”

It's 8:30 pm. You and Jason just put Aurora to sleep in her room, you're lying on bed with your head propped on a pillow and Jason's shoulder.

You scroll on Jason's gallery, currently landing on the selfie of you, Jason, and little Aurora in front of the snow castle and the two snowmen on each side of the castle—snowmen that later the three of you built after snow angels' antics. The snowmen are guards, Jason had said.

Jason's shuffling and looking at the printed photos he (and you) took with the instant camera, while occasionally brushing your raven black hair that fans the pillow.

“Lovely snow angels.” Jason mutters.

You laugh. You immediately scroll towards one picture of the three of you as snow angels. “Yeah, that one was cute too. It's fortunate that you brought your tripod outside so we could take a photo with the three of us as snow angels.”

“I meant this.”

Jason shows you one printed photo from the instant camera.

“Oh.”

It is a photo of you and Aurora as snow angels, the sunlight reflecting on the snow and bouncing a very faint light on your smiling faces.

“That’s…” You almost can't say a thing. “So beautiful.”

“I know.”

“You're very talented, Jason.” You look up and give him a soft smile.

“It's not as much talent as what's the subject of the photography.”

“Hey.” You can't help but chide him.

“It's true.”

“It's not.”

“It is.” Jason says with a finality. He puts all—the photos except the one on your hand—on the nightstand beside him.

“Both of you are just the loveliest snow angels. My literal angels.”

“Oh, Jason…”

“My only angels. You and Aurora.”

That's it.

You drag his face towards you with one of your hands behind his neck. You kiss him deeply and slowly. You can feel his pulse beneath your fingers and run your hand up and down his nape.

Jason shudders and he kisses you deeper, if it's possible, and you let out a small moan.

At last, you separate your faces from each other to inhale some air.

“Jason, I love you so much.” You caress his jawline, looking at his perfect shade of viridian eyes.

“I love you more.” He looks at you as fondly. Sometimes it's hard to breathe everytime he does that.

“I love you more and more.”

“I love you–”

And that's where you two hear a cry from Aurora's room. She's awake.

“I think trying to tell us she's agreed that I love you more.” Jason snickers.

You huff, moving your body to get up from the bed. “She's trying to tell us she wants to co-sleep with us again tonight.”

“That's fair too. Still, I love you more and more and more, though.”

“It’s me, actually, but I will let you win.”

You almost land your feet on the floor when Jason immediately stands up.

“Let me get her or I love you more and more and more.”

You can't believe your husband's antics but you smile ear to ear nonetheless.

“Fair. Go get her, Papabear.”

“On it, Mamabear.”

Jason shouts I love you more and more and more when he's in another room with Aurora's “Papa” accompanying it.

mariea's note: guess who decide to go all in and repost the fic from my ao3 here? anyway here's the og appearance of my jason todd's kid oc aurora "rora" todd 🤍

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #dad jason todd x mom reader #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd's kid oc #kid oc #kid ocs #aurora todd #dad!jason todd #mom!reader #jason todd fluff #mariea's fics #mariea's works #mariea's writing

130 notes · View notes

teddypines · 7 months ago

Text

Bat / Wayne Family Masterlist

{ Batmom!Reader, Bruce and their batbabbies }

Reader, wife to Bruce Wayne and a mom to his hord of children. The children who she loves and adores, only wanting the best for her babies.

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

Thunderstorm (Damian Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

Fight (Dick Grayson x Batmom!reader)

The talk (Tim Drake x Batmom!reader)

Weekend alone 🌶 (Bruce Wayne x Batmom!reader)

Momma’s boy (Jason Todd x Batmom!reader)

------------------------------------------------

{ Batsis!Reader and Wayne family adventures }

Y/N is the youngest Wayne and these are her adventures with her big brothers and sisters. Making life a little harder for their dad.

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

Morning snuggles (Bruce Wayne x Batsis!reader)

Fleep (Batfam x Batsis!reader)

Drop off's and pick up's (Batfam x Batsis!reader)

Tea time (Batfam x Batsis!reader)

-------------------------------------------------

These stories can be read on Wattpad and Ao3, Batsis - Batmom, too.

386 notes · View notes

in-som-niyah · 1 year ago

Text

"𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖔𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖞 𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖙"

"𝘐'𝘮 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘥𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘐𝘧 𝘐 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵"

𝟏𝟖+ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝟏𝟖+

𝓜𝓸𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓮 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

ᴊᴀꜱᴏɴ ᴘᴇᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴏᴅᴅ

🇸🇲🇺🇹 𝟏𝟖+

softdom!Jason Todd x pregnant!fem!Reader

"See, I love your Icing" (softdom!Jason x fem!reader)

dom!fem!Reader x sub!Jason Todd hc's

"No, none of that baby. Let me see that pretty pussy of mine." (softdom!Jason x insecure!fem!reader)

"Come on princess, don't be like that. Give Red what he deserves..." (softdom!Jason Todd x fem!black coded!Reader)

soft!Jason Todd x virgin!fem!Reader (songfic)

Dark!Jason Todd and his eager cockslut with an oral fixation

🇫🇱🇺🇫🇫

Priscilla the Rabbit vs Jason Todd (domestic!Jason Todd x fem!Reader)

GirlDad!Jason Todd x Mom!Reader

Finding a picture of you in his wallet (domestic!Jason x fem!reader)

Jason x iron deficient fem!reader

🇦🇳🇬🇸🇹

Bruised Hands Still Serve a Purpose (expecting dad !Jason Todd x pregnant and mother!fem!reader)

The first fight (situationship!Jason Todd x nurse!black!fem!reader)

🇨🇴🇲🇫🇴🇷🇹

"These arms are always yours, love" (soft!domestic!Jason Todd x overstimulated!black!fem!Reader) (TW: Panic attack)

soft!oblivious!Jason Todd x fem!reader on her period (TW: description of vomiting)

Attentive!Jason x reader hcs when reader is on their period

386 notes · View notes

jjenthusee · 9 months ago

Text

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Angst, hurt no comfort

The sun was blinding. White light that burned against the skin of your eyelids trying to shield your eyes.

A couple blinks helped to adjust your senses, but you could only squint long enough to try to look at your surroundings.

Trees. Seats. The inside of a truck?

You sat up straighter. Your fast movements disorienting your mind, but you swiveled your head nonetheless. Pushing away the sudden motion sickness.

It was the interior of a truck. Your family pickup.

You hadn’t seen it in ages after your family sold it off when you were thirteen.

A sickening nostalgic feeling constricting your throat. You turned your head to look out the window of the backseat.

You were moving.

Endless trees were passing you, almost in a blur. It was home like you were back driving through the backroads, but this looked like a freeway.

You were sitting with the windows rolled up, but you could practically smell the outside. The smell of the almost red dirt and the sound of the trees wiggling against the wind.

It reminded you of when your life was only about getting dirt in your shoes and your mom would nag about the stains on them.

“—ug.”

Huh? Dad?

“Bug, can you feel the air?”

Your dad’s voice reverberated through you. Your throat burning as you listened to the familiar nickname. The way his voice was delicate whenever he used it.

You looked forward expecting to see the front of the vehicle, but it was more fog. You wanted to rub your eyes hoping they would readjust and you could see your dad rather than only hear him.

But the blurriness stayed.

“It’s too hot, I can’t believe you forgot the cooler.”

Your mother’s voice echoed from the passenger seat, finally stabilizing when she finished talking.

The firmness still familiar and prominent.

“I told you that I’m sorry, I thought I put it in the backseat.”

You smiled hearing your parents bicker. It never failed that a roadtrip started with them arguing with each other. It was harmless banter, but it warmed your chest to hear both of their voices intertwined again.

Like a fog had cleared, the backs of your parents became more visible. Their silhouettes morphing into their all too familiar clothes and hair. Your dad driving and your mom sitting next to him with the usual grace she carried.

So many memories spent watching your parents from the backseat. You remembered you would move to the middle of the seats to perfectly balance seeing both of your parents, the sides of their faces barely visible, but it was also the perfect spot to get the best wave of cool air from the AC.

You saw the endless road through the front windshield. No traffic and the road closed in by the trees. It was just you and your parents like old times.

A sudden chill ran through you. Your arms shivered.

The truck was old, but it was sturdy. Your dad was very particular about the maintenance, so it kept kicking through the years. Maybe the AC was just strong?

“—u’re okay. You’ll be fine.”

Another voice chimed in, but when you turned to your parents they were still going back and forth, not paying attention to you.

A sharp sting pricked your right shoulder. The pain felt like a needle poling you, but it started to burn and the pain took over. It traveled down to your arm and fingers.

Your cries alerted your parents and your mom looked over her shoulder with concern.

“What’s wrong—“

You couldn’t form an answer as you clenched your shoulder with your left hand. Trying your best to somehow lessen the pain.

You looked down to assess the injury. You were in a GCPD vest and a red hoodie? What an interesting combo.

“Don’t you close your eyes, you fucking idiot.”

A harsh voice floated around you. It made your head hurt.

What in the world was going on?

Sweat formed on your forehead ready to drop down to your eyebrow.

Your entire right arm going numb. Well, now that was bad.

“I can’t feel my arm.”

You looked up to your mom. Slow panic blooming on her face.

“Shit, honey, you have to pull over.”

“There’s a semi behind us, we have to let it pass then—“

“Just put on the hazards! We have to pull over.”

They were arguing again, more about their concern for you, but you wanted to laugh at the situation. How long has it been since someone had reacted to you in this way?

Your mom unbuckled herself and maneuvered her body to wipe the sweat off your face. Her eyes looking at you. She was worried, but you saw as she fought against it.

She was never one to comfort with words, but you felt better as she dabbed at your sweat.

“Don’t touch her, dickhead!”

You winced. The distant voice had such a foul mouth.

You looked up again, there was no reaction from your mom. She was a stickler for bad language, so if she wasn’t ready to threaten you with cleaning your mouth with soap, she didn’t hear the voice yelling.

“Jaybird, I’m trying to help.”

Another faceless voice. It didn’t contain the same venom as the first one.

“Then help her. She’s losing too much blood and this fucking rain is not helping.”

The irritation was growing from the distant echo. The anger felt familiar.

Instantly, you shivered again.

Your dad successfully pulled off the road bringing the truck to a complete stop. Now he was able to look back at you. His eyebrows pulled together in concern at your messy state.

You were in so much pain, but you were happy. Your parents were doting on you. You missed this feeling, being cared for.

“She still has a pulse, but it’s weak—so we have to act fast. B isn’t that far, we can make it. Just trust me, Jay.”

You shivered again.

“She’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.”

The voice sounded like it was trying to convince himself more than you.

“You’ll be fine, sweetheart.”

The sudden change of anger to tender twisted something inside of you.

A strange wave of sadness itched at you. Why did his voice affect you?

“You said you wanted to cook me a ‘real’ dinner. You promised me.”

You felt like crying.

“You have to take back your DVD.”

People still use those?

“I can’t believe you still buy those ancient things and your stupid puzzle is still on my table. I haven’t moved it, but I bought you the glue you’ve been talking about.”

“Jaybird—“ The other voice tried to interrupt.

“You need to glue it.”

Flashes of memories started to enter your mind.

Red Hood pointing a gun in your face. Sitting in his safe house together. Removing his helmet. Watching Jason, your Jason, make a shitty dinner. Then your sadness when you realized he only ate to live. Teaching him about the mundane things about life.

You put a stamp onto his life and he had his stamp on yours.

Using his shampoo, wearing his clothes, blushing when he told you how good you looked in red.

“Fuck!”

The yell made you flinch. Your dad reaching past the seat to pet your head. A silent comfort.

You remembered.

Remembered that you followed Jason to stop the new drug that infested the schools across Gotham. You ended up going into the warehouse by yourself and as you were aiming your pistol, the drug lord aimed back at you. There were four shots. You each got a good hit on the other, but you managed to limp yourself out to the open smoggy air with the drug lord still slumped on the concrete. You did your job. Months of work was finally done. Except paper work, but that could be dealt with.

A couple steps into the rain and more gunshots had fired behind you. A flash of red moved at the corner of your eye, but your body fell forward.

You didn’t finish the job. The drug lord had been barely breathing and still shot you.

Jay had to clean up after you. Again.

You couldn’t do anything right. Now you were full of bullet holes, face plastered against the rough pavement.

It was too late.

Your body shifted, lifted like you weighed nothing. Your face feeling pouring rain when a red silhouette shielded your face.

“You idiot!” Jason’s voice booming above you.

Your body felt so heavy.

You slowly blinked up at his helmet. You always hated that it blocked you from seeing his actual face. You loved looking at him, but when he had it on, you wanted take it off and throw it.

You closed your eyes. When they reopened you could see your mom holding your face.

“I’m dying.”

“Oh, stop being dramatic. It’s probably cause you spent all weekend running around and strained yourself. I’ll give you some medicine and then you’ll rest more when we get home.”

“Mom, I don’t want to die.”

“Hush, you just need to rest. You look tired.”

You were tired. So tired.

Your father reached for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“It’s alright bug, you can rest.”

He was right. It was okay.

It won’t hurt to close your eyes for a little while. Maybe Jay will be there when you wake up. You’ll be in his arms and he’ll complain about you hogging the blanket all night, then kiss the sleepiness off of you.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be here when you wake up. We love you.”

The pain had stopped.

You closed your eyes.

Maybe you would rest for a bit.

Car drives always did make you sleepy.

…

Jason held your hand. Your body was soaked from the rain, water dripping off the sides of your face as you laid in front of him.

He was afraid to move you any further, so he sat on the ground. His helmet lulled next to his feet, thrown to the ground.

All the noise around him stopped. He couldn’t hear anything.

He had a lot of fuck-ups in his life, but this was by far the worse one.

Your pulse had stopped. You were cold.

Jason shakily reached for your face. You looked like you were going to wake at any moment to move the hair out of your face and you would ask him what all the fuss was about.

But you laid there. Hair still in your face, moved from the rain.

He stopped himself from touching you, throwing off his gloves with the same carelessness as his helmet.

Jason inched towards your face, using his bare fingers to move the wet hair. He watched the cold beauty you radiated.

But it wasn’t you.

It wasn’t the person who judged his bad eating habits, complained about his old leather jacket, yet still sewed close the new holes that formed.

“You idiot.”

His voice eerie and calm.

He reached for your body, gently scooping you up into his embrace. Holding you as close as he can get you.

He couldn’t feel any heartbeat. No familiar thump that calmed him, that lulled him to sleep on those nights it was too difficult to rest.

“You fucking idiot.”

Jason whispered into your hair. None of his earlier panic or malice heard in his voice.

Lines of tears fell from his eyes. A quiet sob as he touched his forehead to yours.

“Don’t leave me.”

His voice broke.

He held you tighter. Intertwining his hand and yours together like he could bring back life into you.

“Please.”

#jason todd #red hood #writing #jason todd x reader

233 notes · View notes

midyiderit · 2 months ago

Text

DC Fic Recommendations

Just some of my favorite DC fics. it's mostly BatFam cause that's my current hyper fixation. I may have a slight thing for Jason Todd 😅. Reader is gender neutral unless noted otherwise.

Other Fic Recs

Key:

Fluff ☁️

Angst ⛈️

Mature 🌹

Smut 🔥

Comfort 🫂

Reverse Comfort 🔁🫂

Yandere 🩸

Series 🔗

Dynamics:

Strangers 💛

Best Friends 🩵

Strangers to Lovers 🧡

Friends to Lovers 💜

Exs to Lovers ❤️‍🩹

Established Relationship ❤️

Lovers to Exs 💔

Platonic

Damien Wayne-Al'Ghul/Robin

☁️ Being Damien's Best Friend (Child!Reader) by @dahliakbs

☁️🫂 Dad's GF by @torasplanet ♀️

Multi

☁️ Being Bruce Wayne's Twin (Batfam) by @nosyrobin ♂️

⛈️🫂🔗 Punchline AU (Joker's Daughter and the Batfam) by @witherby ♀️

☁️🔗 Littlest Wayne AU (Adopted by the Batfam) by @witherby

☁️🫂🩸 Family Knows Best (Batfam) by @one-green-frog ♂️

⛈️🩸 Neglected Reader Turned Mafia Boss (Batfam) by @ladyrosemone

☁️🫂 Found Family (Batfam & Kents) by @lunasfics ♀️

🩸🔗 Little Thief (Batfam) by @green-butterfly-writes

Romantic

Bruce Wayne/Batman

🌹 Count on Mom by @alisonwritesimagines ❤️♀️

Dick Grayson/Nightwing

🔥 "Will You Mind It?" by @hhoneylemon ❤️♂️

Jason Todd/Red Hood

☁️ Bluetooth by @cipheress-to-k-pop 🧡♀️

☁️ Meet the Family by @mostly-imagines ❤️♀️

☁️ Meeting His Siblings by @gilverrwrites ❤️

Multi

🌹🩸🔗 A Day in Life (Justice League x Reader) by @couldeatthatgirlforlunch 🧡

#batfam x reader #platonic batfam #jason todd x reader #jason todd/reader #bruce wayne x reader #dick grayson x reader

90 notes · View notes

deliciousbasementtrash · 1 year ago

Text

Playing Nurse for the Batfam

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. On your way home from work, you encounter an injured superhero. You have seen his secret identity. Now what will he do about it?

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x reader, (maybe a why choose with Dick Grayson as well?? Idk tell me what you guys want)

Warning: Adult language, verbal abuse, parental abuse, severe injuries

Word Count: 1.5k

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it

Part One: Is that Trash or a Man?

There is calm chaos when working in the emergency room. You get used to the cacophony of beeps and alarms. Of moans, crying, screaming, and arguing. You get used to being on your feet all day and moving from task to task, from patient to patient. You get used to it because there is no other option. People need care and they need it now. You either step the fuck up or switch to a different unit. Or move to a calmer, cleaner, less crime-filled city. Calm wasn’t really my vibe. Maybe externally that’s what I portrayed, but internally my mind craves the chaos of the ER. It craves the chaos of Gotham. And the Gotham ER was an entirely different beast.

I finished nursing school about a year ago. A lot of my peers used it as an out. They went to more stable cities in New Jersey that had better funding and less chance of getting knifed in the staff parking lot. I was one of the only ones that stayed. I definitely was the only one that worked in the hospital. I couldn’t deny the demand for nurses was high, and the paychecks were even higher at Gotham General Hospital. And maybe some small pathetic part of my brain wanted to make the world a better place. I wanted Gotham to be a better place. Every day I worked. I convinced myself that how matter how shitty it got; I was making a difference. Even if it was only a handful of people in the grand scheme of things.

I could convince myself that I mattered. That everyone mattered. That these people deserve more. They deserve better; they deserve a second, third, fourth, fifth chance. If I stopped trying to convince myself of that I know I would give up entirely. Seeing gunshot wounds, stabbings, overdoses, mutilations, burns, crushings, poisonings, beatings, day after day is a lot like erosion of the soul. Little by little it wears you down. You become jaded and jagged with time. Empathy becomes blame. Hope becomes desolate. Love becomes anger. The only thing you can do is gaslight yourself into thinking you’re making a big enough difference. That you’re helping enough people. After all, the brain can’t tell the difference between truth and irony. You tell yourself so many lies, you can start to believe them, right?

Gotham City: 16 Years Ago

“Dad, when is mom coming home?” My small voice asked. I was scared to make Dad yell at me again. I didn’t like it when I made him yell.

“She’s got stage four fucking cancer she is coming out of the hospital in a body bag, y/n.”

I fought the tears that burned behind my eyes. Dad would get even angrier if he saw them. It was stupid of me to even ask.

I felt him turn to me. His eyes bored into my skull. Quickly, I looked down at his feet.

“Have you tried again?” He asked. His tone clipped. I knew he expected a timely answer.

Involuntarily, my fingers ruthlessly picked the skin around my nails. The sting was grounding in a way.

“No, sir. Well yes, I have tried, but I… I failed,” the last word felt like a hot poker being placed through my throat.

“Look at me.” Breathing became difficult, but I looked up at my father. He leaned his face close to mine. I could smell Jack wafting off him. “What good are you? What good is having healing powers if you can’t heal your sick mother?”

The simple hangnail became a chunk of missing skin. I lowered my head. Fighting back tears.

“Sir,” my traitorous voice wobbled as I tried not to cry, “I keep trying but… I don’t think my power is that strong. I can close cuts, fix broken bones, but tumors are… hard.”

My father tilted his head back and laughed. Hard. He grabbed my wrist as quickly as a viper, “If I could put your mother’s cancer in you I would. You’re about as useful as a wet match in a dark cave.”

I couldn’t help the tears that fell down my cheek. It felt like I was involuntarily waving a white flag.

Gotham City: Present Day

I had to be stealthy with my gift. I couldn’t heal every one of the patients to full health right away. That would lead to suspicion. But if I could help it I could stop the major damage. I would heal internal organs. Replenish blood. Reduce ten fractures to two or one. It all depended on timing and if people were watching me.

I was walking home from the hospital. I only lived about three blocks away. I got off shift at around 20:49. I didn’t start my next stretch for another three days. And I was milking my walk home. Stopping to smell the roses or whatever. That is normally not a very smart thing to do in Gotham at night, especially as a woman. But part of me didn’t care.

Earlier, I looked at my phone and frowned when I realized the date.

Thursday, May 19th.

My mom died 16 years ago today. Waves of emotion flooded my senses. Anger at myself for not remembering. Sadness that she had been gone more of my life than she had been in it. Restlessness for what my father might do or say. Some years he likes to reach out. Others he doesn’t. But most of all I was feeling reckless. Like I wanted someone to give me a reason. Obviously, I would only hurt someone to defend myself or others. But there was so much anger living in my body, part of me hoped some idiot would try something with me tonight.

So, I walked home. Slowly.

Normally, you keep your head down and you keep moving. You don’t look or gawk. You listen out of necessity. I was listening just because I could. It was the normal stuff. Men smoking cigarettes and catcalling. Women were offering their nightly services. Random people either praising or damning superheroes. Drug deals. Graffiti artists. Fights. And of course, people who simply were walking home from work. Gotham had range and was never boring that’s for sure.

But something picked up on the very edge of my senses. Despite my better logic, I turned toward the very quiet sound. It could have just been rats, but it sounded so familiar. It sounded like a death rattle. The thing you hear just before shit hits the fan and the patient codes.

Without thinking I ran down the alley toward the sound. At first, it was nothing. Just trash and rats. But then I saw it. He almost blended perfectly in with the shiny black garbage bags. His cape was the same color but reflected the light less.

“Sir? Sir, are you alright?” I walked hesitantly forward, grabbing my pepper spray just in case.

The man did not answer, he only garbled and coughed. My work brain took over my fear. Instantly I rolled the man over and began assessing him. I suppressed a gasp when I rolled him over and a familiar cowl mask came into view. It was cracked down the middle. His face was bleeding from an unknown location. His breathing was labored and staggered.

Calmly, I closed my eyes and pressed my hands against his chest.

Oh yeah. Batman was dying. He had several broken ribs. A pneumothorax. A bruised liver, kidney, and pancreas. His cardiac output was a joke. The man had no perfusion.

I didn’t think. I didn’t hold back like I do at the hospital. I just healed. And healed. And healed. I healed him down to his bone-on-bone knees, sprained ankle, and fractured wrist.

God, this guy had a lot of injuries.

I was close to passing out by the time I was done. I had done too much, ate, and slept too little. My powers were demanding when it came to energy. If I didn’t eat or sleep within 30 minutes I was about to pass out next to bat boy himself.

I gave him one last assessment. After double-checking that he would live and that I didn’t miss anything I finally looked at his face again.

This time I gasped. Batman was the billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne? I shook my head like I was clearing cobwebs. I didn’t have time to dwell on it. Much like Batman, I didn’t want people to know what I could do. The last time people knew…

Just as I turned and took a few steps I rolled my eyes at my nagging thoughts.

What if someone sees him before he wakes up?

Reaching into my tote bag I pulled out a black medical mask. I not so gracefully MacGyvered it across his exposed face so that it was covered. And with that, I made my way home.

My cat, Hashbrown, eagerly greeted me at the door. I nearly fell asleep locking it. I bent down to pick her up and gave her a kiss on her perfect little cat head. I ripped my gross work scrubs off, threw them in the wash, and crashed on the couch in my underwear before my brain could process what happened.

I healed Batman.

I healed… Bruce Wayne?

Part Two, Part Three

518 notes · View notes

bizbat · 9 months ago

Text

Kill for Her - Jason Todd x Reader - 1

🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️

🐼JJK Masterlist🐼

~ Fem terms used for reader.

~ Mild smut alluded to but nothing explicit.

~ Reader's appearance is not described.

~ Parts one, two, three, and four, as well as my other works, can be found here!

~ Also please lmk how i can improve the masterlist if you do end up checking out my other works!!! (:

~ Thank you so, so much for everyone who requested more crazy jason! ILLYYYY (p.s. thank you for being so patient with this, ik it took forever omg)

~ Wc: 1.4k

~ Tw: (Very) Unhealthy Relationship Dynamics and All that Comes with it, Mentions of Having Children, Jason Todd is Not a Good Person in this, Pet Names, Nausea, Angst, Blood and Violence, Variety in Themes, Cringe maybe (lmk)

"Break up?" You think you can just "break up" with Jason Peter "I've never been in a real relationship bc I died as a teenager and I have serious deep running abandonment issues stemming from my more than troubled childhood" Todd?

Funny.

Real funny.

But yk what he doesn't think he really likes that joke and maybe you should actually never tell it again, okay? ((:

It doesn't matter what way you try to approach the subject. Kind, playing into his delusions about being a real couple? You're overthinking things, but that's fine, he loves you anyways.

Yelling, crying, screaming for him to get the fuck out of your home and go die? You're probably just being dramatic, but that's okay, you're sassy, he's sassy, match made in heaven!

The man is kookoo. He genuinely believes that you're destined to get married to each other and either have or adopt a ton of children and he's gonna be the best dad ever and you'll be a wonderful mom ever and blah blah blah blah.

And I've barely scratched the surface of all his crazy, it runs deep.

~ Fic Starts Here. ~

He'd kill for you. Without a doubt.

He's always figured, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he might have to go back on his word to Bruce for your sake, that he might have to further stain his own soul and hands to keep yours clean, to protect you, to protect your relationship. It's not something he's too particularly worried about, to him, you might as well be the only living person on the planet anyways. Don't get him wrong, he loves his family, to the moon and back and more (don't tell them that), but if there were two people left on the planet, and one of them was you, and the other was him, he thinks the world might finally be fair. That life might finally be kind to him.

And with reasoning like that, whispered into your hair at night when he thinks you're asleep, how could you be so cruel as to break his heart? How could you when he begs, begs you not to see how evil he thinks he is at night when he's been up too late and his brain starts to tell him cruel things about himself? When he brings you a gift every time he sees you. Granted, they're stolen, and granted, he broke into your home. But they're exemplary of his devotion to you nonetheless. Or at least that's how you see it, that's how you see him.

It's true, Jason has lived a life more than deserving of pity, of kindness and support. That's part of why you feel nauseous right now, your hands, slightly clammy, nervously wring the hem of the shirt you're wearing. It's big on you, hanging down past your thighs. You can't remember if it's his or yours. Your tongue feels too big in your mouth, and your knee is bouncing so much you're sure the muscles in your calf are well defined by now.

The reason you feel so ill as you wait for him at 12:48 AM, your eyes flicking back and forth between the clock on your phone and your TV currently playing reruns, is because tonight is the end of it. The end of Jason breaking into your apartment with a spare key he had made without your knowledge, or your window when you switch your lock for the umpteenth time. The end of you waking up next to him in your bed when you know he wasn't there when you went to sleep. The end of his overly personal nicknames that allude to a relationship you've told him time and time again that you Do. Not. Have.

Tonight you're "breaking up with" Jason Todd. If you weren't on edge you might laugh at the thought. You and Jason have (at least in your adamant opinion) never agreed to date. He never asked you out, he just started, well, acting the way he acts; breaking into your home, stealing random articles of clothing that he has a particular interest in, acting like your boyfriend. But it's been months. You're tired.

"Jason!" You say, surprised at his sudden appearance. You guess you got too caught up in your thoughts. He smells like metal. You're worried about what he might've been getting up to, but that's not your main focus at the moment.

He hears your voice sing his name as he walks into your shared apartment, through the door this time. He knows how much you hate it when he comes in through the window. He's happy to see you, albeit a little surprised, you're usually asleep by this time. You must've stayed up for him, a smile rises to his lips at the thought. "Hiya doll, what're you doing up so late?" He's clearly exhausted, even though he's turning in relatively early, it now being 1:29, he's already had a long, long night. A long, painful, violent night.

All he wants right now is to lay beside you, to rest his head on your chest and hear your heartbeat. It's his second favorite sound in the world. The first being those gorgeous noises you make when he's got his head between your thighs and your fingers in his hair-

He's pulled from his thoughts at the sight of your lip tucked between your teeth, the worry on your face more than evident. His smile drops as he hangs up his signature leather jacket on the coat rack beside the door, and slowly makes his way over to you. "You okay, doll? What's wrong?" He asks you with such sincerity, like he really does care. And the worst part is you know he does.

"We . . . we need to talk, Jason." He can hear how nervous you are just by the way your voice quivers as you address him. It always makes his heart hurt when he hears that. You avert your gaze, unable to look at him at this moment. You breathe deeply, trying to calm your heart and quell the bile fighting to come out. You need to do this, and you need to do it now. "I . . ." You barely manage to warble out, clenching your jaw before bracing yourself. "I want to break up with you Jason." You say after taking a deep breath through your nose.

This is it, you did it. You can feel the saline tears rising to your waterline, but you aren't sad at all. You swallow the massive lump in your throat as you wait for his response, your hands furiously gripping your shirt, an unreadable expression on his face. He just . . . stares for a moment. He doesn't blink, he doesn't frown, he doesn't start sobbing, fall to his knees, beg you to change your mind.

He doesn't do anything. The longer his stillness goes on, the more and more your confidence deteriorates. Your shoulders drop from their tense state, your lip quivers, and your ears ring from how dead silent the room seems to be. "Jason . . ." He's barely blinking, his head slightly cocked, his hands limply dangling at his sides. "I said," You clear your throat, not favoring how weak you sound. "I said I want to break up with you. I don't want to date you anymore." You know he heard you, but you repeat yourself nonetheless.

The longer the two of you sit in silence, the harder it is to stomach it. Your hands shake as they grip your shirt, the fabric wrinkles in your tight grasp, your chest feels like all of your ribs have turned into snakes and started squeezing and constricting around your pounding heart. His eyes pierce your soul, the usually deep pits now shallow and glassy. Eventually, the second that he sees a single drop of water fall down your cheek he seems to snap out of it.

The life, the color returns to his face and eyes, as if he was just woken out of a deep trance at the mere sight of your tears. Then, perhaps most disturbingly, he laughs. A cold, icy chuckle that slides off his vocal cords and freezes the room. It sounds almost plastic, rehearsed, like he's practiced it in the mirror hundreds of times in preparation for moments like this. "That . . ." he wheezes between bouts of fake laughter. "That was really funny, babe, you almost had me there."

Jason runs a hand through his hair, disguising the act as if he's trying to gather himself when really, he's resisting the urge to grip on the strands of inky black until they rip from his scalp. He's still pretending to collect himself as he slips past your form, still standing almost perfectly still, into your room. You don't even remember the rest of the night. You don't remember what either of you said, what either of you did, all you remember is following him into the room, being coaxed into bed, and resting your swirling head on his chest as his arms wrapped so, so tightly around your shoulders.

Jason doesn't sleep well that night, even with you safely tucked into his arms. It was a joke, it was a joke, it was a joke. That's what he tells himself. Over and over in his head, bouncing off the walls of his skull; it was a joke, it was a joke, it was a joke. It must be, it has to be. His sweet Y/n, who knows what he's been through, who knows he's never had anything, and anything he has ever had was ripped from his hands, his Y/n would never be so cruel.

She'd never leave him. He couldn't let her. Not when he'd die for her, not when he'd kill for her.

#bizbat #dc #jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood #jason todd headcanons

124 notes · View notes