#dc x reader

[petalbcrnes]

💬𓂃 ࣪˖. texts w/ 𝓓𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄—𝐀𝐋 𝐆𝐇𝐔𝐋 as your boyfriend | 02 .ᐟ

♡ · 𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐘 — fluffy texts w/ 𝓓𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄—𝐀𝐋 𝐆𝐇𝐔𝐋 .ᐟ

⊹ 💬 · i love writing for dami so much !!! (jaybird i swear i still love you) i’m sorry for my inactivity these past few days. i’ve had a lot of work — events, family, i have to travel too so :c more texts with dami here !

directory ⋆˚꩜ rules !

INBOX OPEN.⠀⠀feel free to send me asks and suggestions in my inbox. ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

✶⋆.© 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐂𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒 don’t use my work without my consent.

[rainydaygotham]

The Hall Pass

Robins react to their civilian partner declaring their hero persona as their ‘hall pass’.

(Steph is here too but she’s the instigator. Little stephcass cameo as well. I could write for the girls too if requested tho)

You really don’t know why you keep letting your boyfriend drag you to these hangouts with his siblings.

Sure, they were cool people, but that’s why you weren’t the most comfortable around them. They were fucking superheroes. You were just some kid off the street, and now you regularly spent your evenings playing board games with Gotham’s ‘rich young and powerful’.

Right now you guys were playing Clue. Which got really intense, as you could imagine. You’d think they’d pick a different game, since solving crimes was their day-to-day life, but nah.

They weren’t even being subtle about it. Pretty sure they were all trying to impress you with how fast they could beat the game, too.

It wound down, however. The night had dragged on. The game changed to Uno because that was less brainpower and more drinking.

You hit Stephanie with a Draw Four, that by house rules, stacked with another Draw Four, making girlypop have to draw eight cards total. You really shouldn’t have done that.

You couldn’t remember how you guys got to the subject, but suddenly you were talking about hall passes. You know, that thing where you can bang a certain celebrity if you ever got the chance and your partner can’t get mad.

You think they were just really trying to embarrass your boy. And it was working.

“Mine’s Zendaya,” Stephanie laughed, “people complain that she’s in everything these days but I couldn’t be happier. I’d use that girl’s thighs as earmuffs,” she then animatedly mimed some colorful actions.

Your boyfriend grit his teeth at the crassness. That was more than he needed to know. Cass just rolled her eyes at her girlfriend’s antics.

The others chattered their agreement. Zendaya was hot. A worthy hall pass.

Stephanie then turned to you with a sneaky smile, the air of an animal cornering its prey, “What about you, huh Y/n? You’ve been pretty quiet tonight.

“Uh—“ you stuttered, “I don’t know. I believe in fidelity pretty strongly,” you played with a lock of your hair, “and I don’t really let myself think about other guys like that, so,” you tried to deflect.

“Oh, please,” one of your boyfriend’s brothers interjected as he incredulously rolled his eyes at you, “like that’s true,”

“Yeah, and I’m secretly the Queen of England,” Steph added.

“Hey!” your boyfriend defended, “Sounds true to me,” he insisted. You were giving a perfectly good answer and they’re just jealous that they don’t have someone like you in their lives.

“C’mon Y/n. Surely, there’s some celebrity out there who’s caught your eye,” Stephanie knocked back her solo cup dramatically, “You telling me you’ve never had a celebrity crush? Never ever?” she nudged your arm with hers.

“Well…” you stalled for time.

“Well?” she pried.

And then you got an evil thought.

You know that little imp on your shoulder that likes to say “hey, you know what would be so fucking funny?”. Well, you’re going to listen to them for once.

True, you know that you’re sitting in the den of the infamous Gotham vigilante family, but they don’t know that you know that.

“There is… someone…”

“Someone?” your boyfriend pressed, trying really hard to sound like he was simply curious and totally not jealous. At all.

“He’s just—ah” you covered your face in your hands in a pretty good performance of fake embarrassment.

“Who?” they all badgered you as they leaned in like you were about to divulge tomorrow’s winning lottery numbers or something.

“It’s—

[Dick]

“Nightwing,”

Dick choked on his own spit. “NIGHTWING?!” He sputtered.

“He’s just so sexy. I don’t know what to tell you Dickie. He’s such a sweetie. And there’s something about the way he moves. I just get so starstruck when he’s around,”

“When he— When has Nightwing been aroun—”

And suddenly he remembered all those times he thought he was being sneaky, stalking secretly walking you home from the rooftops whenever you got off work at night.

Shit. Did you see him? Maybe once or twice? Was it more? Have you been aware that a whole ass vigilante has been practically stalking you? And you were okay with that?

Maybe you just thought his patrol route lined up with your way home.

But he didn’t have any more time to ponder this as you JUST KEPT GOING OH MY GOD.

“And damnn, have you seen his butt?” you whistled, “His suit is so tight. Sooo tight.” You emphasized.

Dick’s face was redder than a tomato at this point. Someone kill him now. Stephanie looked like she just won aforementioned lottery.

“He’s out here single-handedly keeping the entire ass city of Blüdhaven safe, all while looking like he was sculpted by Michelangelo or something. Literally gorgeous. And I heard he saved a puppy one time. A puppy, Dick. It’s like he was written by a woman. I’d be stupid to NOT tap that sweet ass.”

Suddenly, and probably his brain trying to cope with the mortification, all sorts of filthy fantasies were crossing his mind of you, him, and the Nightwing suit. Why did that sound so hot?

Imagine him coming home, not even shedding the sweaty suit as he made a beeline for you. Imagine dry humping while he’s still suited up. God.

Imagine the hero Nightwing bending an innocent little civilian over the table because you just wanted to thank him for keeping you safe. You’ll do anything for him, anything he wants *wink wink*…

Goddammit Dick! Not in front of The Children (his grown ass siblings lmao).

“Well, looks like Dickhead doesn’t mind,” Jason teased as he nudged his older brother with his elbow, knocking him out of his horny daze.

“Oh, he’s totally down for a threesome with Nightwing, Y/n,” Tim added devilishly.

“Shut up both of you!” Dick’s face literally could not get any hotter.

He hid his face in his hand as the rest of the party descended into giggles. You among them.

Poor Dickie. You’ll have to put him out of his misery and tell him that you know his secret after tonight. And then maybe you will get to tap that.

[Jason]

“Red Hood,”

…Jason was confused. Why would you pick him. What?

“Red Hood?”

Where was all his bravado when he needed it?

“Yeah, Red Hood,” you puffed out your chest in pride, “He’s like legitimately the coolest out of all the bats!”

“No he’s not,” Jason said exasperatedly, “You’re biased because he saved you that one time.”

It was a weird night for him. He couldn’t say he wasn’t pissed to all hell when he caught you getting fucking mugged in an alleyway, but he did enjoy the way you looked at him like he was your hero. Your knight in shining armor. Or knight in a beat up leather jacket and red helmet.

“No, I’m right. Not just because he beat up those goons for me.” you crossed your arms, “Those other vigilantes wish they were as cool as Red Hood. Batman wishes he was as cool as Red Hood,”

“He’s done a lot of bad things,” was all Jason could think to say.

“Antiheroes are sick as fuck, Jay. And he’s sexy as fuck too.”

Oh really now? He could almost roll his eyes.

“You don’t even know what his face looks like,” he scoffed.

“I don’t have to. Have you heard his voice when he talks to reporters? It’s like honey. Hot honey, Jason. I just know he’s gorgeous under that stuffy helmet. Oh! I bet his helmet hair is sexy too.”

Jesus Christ. Jason took a deep breath to center himself. You did not just say. All of that.

“Man, I hope that next time I get mugged he puts that sexy leather jacket around my shoulders,”

Your boyfriend just stared at you, willing the veins to not pop out of his forehead.

“You okay there, Jason?” Duke asked in fake concern, patting him on the back.

“Yeah, you’re looking a little.. Red,”

Oh, Jason was going to kill Tim for that one.

Forget them, there’s something more important on his mind now, “There will not be a ‘next time you get mugged’, Y/n,” he said annoyed.

“Oh sure there will. We live in Gotham,” you waved your hand in dismisal.

Lord have mercy on his soul.

Looks like ‘Red Hood’ was going to have to pay you a visit to have a little chat about safety. Again.

And maybe it’ll be as Jason, your boyfriend. If he can work up the courage. Maybe. Maybe it won’t be as bad as he’s been making it out in his head. If your staunch defense of him tonight proved anything. Maybe you’ll love Red Hood too. He won’t have to hide that part of himself anymore. He’d give you all of him, if you would take it.

[Tim]

“Red Robin,”

“Ooooh,” the siblings chorused.

Tim was unexpectedly quiet, however.

“…That’s an interesting choice.” he sounded weirdly calm, lost in thought as his eyes flickered like he was calculating something, “Red Robin,” he said it more to himself than anything.

Not exactly the embarrassed reaction you were hoping for. You were kinda confused, “What do you mean?”

“Well it’s just that he’s not exactly popular, you know? Like, you could’ve chosen Nightwing. That would be the obvious choice here. Everyone loves Nightwing,”

You pretended to not hear Dick scoff at that.

“Well, I don’t love Nightwing,” you said and also pretended to not hear the little wounded noise Dick made at that, and then the sound of the air getting knocked out of his lungs as Jason jabbed him in the stomach.

“So why Red Robin?”

“Well, again, sorry to Nightwing, but Red’s my favorite Robin. He’s just objectively the best.”

“Objectively?”

You started listing off reasons on your fingers, “He’s the smartest of the bunch, he’s the most successful, he’s the prettiest—“

“All of those things are highly debatable,” Jason interjected.

You shook your head, “Look, we’re lucky he hasn’t chose to go rogue because he’d be an incredibly powerful supervillain. He’d be unstoppable. And he’s my Robin. So really. There’s no denying it,”

“Your Robin?”

“Yeah, My Robin,” you fiddled with the bracelet on your wrist, that Tim recognized as the tracker he secretly put on you.

He knew if he gave you something, you’d never take it off. And sue him, he likes knowing where you are at all times. Helps soothe his anxiety about letting you roam around Gotham as you please.

It alerts him if you stray along an unusual path (dangerous) or stay in one place too long (also dangerous). Not your home or work or any of the shops and cafes you frequented. Just like. If you stay on a side street too long, then something’s happening. And he needs to know that immediately.

Seeing your little icon on the map safe and sound in your home was a comfort to him. Sometimes he’d fall asleep watching the unmoving icon.

“He’s like, the Robin who was active while I was growing up, you know? He’s the one I saw on the news and watched rooftops with my telescope hoping to get a good picture of him. That was the guy I wanted to save me. My Robin.”

“Oh so when you said objectively, you meant subjectively,” Damian didn’t sound impressed.

“No. I mean objectively. Just because I’m biased doesn’t mean he isn’t legitimately the best,” you crossed your arms, “You’re just jealous, Tiny,” you stuck out your tongue at the younger boy.

Damian squinted his eyes at your childish display.

Tim laughed, “Well, I guess I really can’t be mad if you sleep with him, then,”

“You can’t,” you said smugly.

Tim slipped his arm over your shoulder, and you melted into him. You might not have changed his plans on the perfect time to tell you his secret (which is next month, your anniversary), but this sure was entertaining. At least now he knows you won’t be mad.

(Bonus) [Damian]

“Robin,”

“Robin?” Damian echoed, voice tinny like he was outside of his body.

“I’m sorry Dami, he’s just really cool—“

“I have to kill him.”

“What?”

“I have to kill Robin, obviously,” he said solemnly as he quickly stood up from his chair, making a scraping noise on the floor, “The hunt starts now. Goodbye, Beloved, I will be back soon.”

“Damian!” you called after him as he dramatically left the room.

(He just went to go get more soda from the fridge. Little shit. But he gave his reflection on the stainless steel door a stern talking-to, of course.)

[jtoddsangel]

𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍’ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐍𝐄𝐖

— 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 𖹭 j. todd x wife!reader agents of gotham au. married life shenanigans. i hope this turned out okay. sorry it’s so short, i didn’t know what else to do <//3

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃; by @redjayy ♡

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤJASON TODD was kneeled down before you, on his knee, working ever so gently to slip the black leather heel onto your foot, adjusting the ankle strap perfectly.

once he was done, he lifted your leg and pressed a kiss against your thigh, lingering for a quiet moment before standing up right, his hands immediately settling onto your waist.

in response, your own hands trailed over his chest before arranging his suit, fixing his tie just to tug it once more, pulling him close so you could kiss his cheek. lipstick remained where you did not, and you chuckled delicately, running your thumb over it.

“something funny to you, mrs. todd?”

“a little. you, actually.”

“oh, really now.” he whispered, his lips a mere inch away from yours.

“mhmm.”

he chuckled himself, the sound reverberating around your insides, shooting shockwaves up your spine, and sewing itself into the walls of your heart.

a million little words, so many promises, scattered across his eyes. how many could you count in a second? and how many could you translate before he blinked?

“you’re breathtaking.” he murmured, skillfully leaning down to steal a proper kiss, fulfilling every dream you possibly could have dreamed. he was a sanctuary, you could rest your entire soul in his arms.

“and you’re sweet.” you inched away, pressing a hand against his chest. “but we still have work to do.”

“you’re no fun.”

“i’m plenty fun, and you know that.” you tut, taking a handkerchief and wiping away the red mark on his cheek.

“my wife... married to the job before me.”

“oh, hush. ceo of the sassy man apocalypse.”

[mixingandmelting]

Cute Aggression

Summary: when he's jealous but gets the cute aggression because you're suddenly being cute

Dick:

He blankly stares at the wall across from him.

The plan was for him to full out sulk. Mope and stay grumpy in bed to make a point that your very attention-needy boyfriend was deprived of your attention because you were giving it to someone else. Typically, you would get exasperated, probe what’s wrong, and then he would have it his way in getting completely spoiled by you to make it up to him.

This time, though, you crawled under the blankets, poked your head from underneath and in front of his face, and pecked his cheek.

“…Are you still mad at me?” You shyly looked up at him with fusty cheeks. He simply blinks.

“So. Damn. Cute.” He grits out under his breath, ignoring your muffled outraged cries as he squeezes your blanket covered form. 

Just remembering what had happened and led to him rolling you up head to toe in the blanket makes him want to squish you for the rest of night. Yell to the world you’re the cutest being in the universe. 

“I can’t breathe , Dick!” Or that’s what he thinks you say when you start patting him on his chest (more like your feeble attempts to smack him if not for your arms restricted by fabric).. 

“No.” Throwing a leg over yours, he decides holding you like this will be how he gets back at you for making him jealous while making him have cute aggression. 

Jason:

There’s not a single drop of shame in him, waddling out the bar with you literally inside his jacket as he glared at anyone who gave you both an odd look.

You were his and he was yours. Nothing hard or complicated, right? Wrong. It seems like there are some people who can’t get a hint. And as much as he loves you, there are times you don’t realize you’re getting hit on. This time, right in front of him.

At first, he was outright brooding. Slouching in his seat next to you and close to shattering the glass in his hand with his grip. 

“Jason… You okay?” Head slightly tilted, eyes wide probably from worry and confusion about his sudden bad mood. Both of your hands on his arm and gently squeezing it.

It’s the alcohol talking when the urge to break a table or punch the wall next to him returns. You were so adorable. Absolutely adorable. 

There was nowhere to hide you in case someone decided to snatch you for your cuteness other than the space between the bar and his legs and he wasn’t about to have you sit on the floor. So in his jacket you go, doing the job of giving the sign you’re quite literally taken. 

“Jason, I’m too warm…” 

“Too bad.” He zips up his jacket. 

He’s not taking any chances of letting anyone else notice you’re too cute for your own good. 

Tim: 

Everyone says out of the two of you, you’re the clingy one. Not once suspecting it was him as he clings on you from behind like a koala.

Him being grouchy had nothing to do with the statement you made coming back from a gala. So what if he’s smaller than the average male? He’s always been a brains-over-brawn guy anyways. that’s why he wasn’t bothered by your passing comment about some tall guy’s height from the gala the two of you had attended whatsoever. 

It was also NOT the reason for his lips and cheeks to puff out as he cleared another level in his Freakazoid game on the couch, ignoring the shuffling next to him or acknowledging you sitting next to him. 

“Tim…? I love you…” A few minutes into the level you said that, Your voice soft and gentle as you leaned forward to try and make eye contact with him.  

He nearly broke the controller in his hands and, instead, ended up covering his face with them out of self restraint. The very self restraint that breaks when you repeat it thinking he didn’t hear you which led him to pull you into his lap and start hugging the life out of you.

“Why are you so cute?” He grumbles into your shoulder, his grip around your waist tightening.

“What?” 

“Nothing.” 

Nope, you don’t get to know. He doesn’t need you thinking he’s moody over something petty and teasing him for it. 

Duke: 

He sits next to you on the bench quietly, face completely flushed for one to many reasons. 

It started with him being in a mood, kicking a pebble that happened to be near his foot while keeping his head low. He knows that the person you won’t stop talking about is just a friend but still, a part of him wonders if you talk about him as much as you talk about your friend with others. 

And really, he’s aware he’s not good at hiding his emotions. Legit, he’s frank about pretty much anything and never thought much about needing to keep his thoughts to himself. Meaning, he knew and felt guilty that you’d pick up on it. Just not in the way you decided to approach. 

“But Duke, you’re still my number one.” In the midst of you talking about the other, you suddenly wrapped your arms around one of his with a smile brighter than the sun. 

On the spot, he lit up. Literally, like a light bulb, your words being the switch for his powers to turn on. Embarrassment doesn’t even cover how he felt, all of a sudden glowing in the middle of sidewalk from being caught off guard how cute you were being. 

“…Well, that’s one way of saying you lightened up.” He gives you a half-hearted glare, not at all amused by your pun but unable to make fuss as your eyes twinkle so prettily. 

Damian:

One hand gripping yours, anyone who glances at you he hisses and glares at. 

The last thing he needs is for anyone else to get the wrong idea that he and you are “just friends” like that one guy earlier, who wouldn’t stop talking to you. And this was despite you pushing the word BOYfriend without a space in between while other twists it as “BOY friend”.

Since then, he’s been extra snarky, snipping, and laying the sarcasm thick. Clicking his tongue nonstop whenever he remembers the whole thing. 

He even decided to get back at the other, give a surprise visit tonight (all behind your back of course; he doesn’t need another session of nagging by you or his family) while continue being, what you consider as, “annoying” as his way of telling you to give all your attention to him for one whole week. Well, almost. 

“Can’t believe he won’t accept it when you’re my boyfriend. Right, Damian?” Fingers tangling with his, you flopped your head onto his shoulder  while looking up at him with a pout. 

It was at that moment he realized what “cute aggression” meant, his face burning and clenching his fists to stop himself from punching the tree next to the two of you. 

“Damian, you can let go now-” He ends up stopping you by giving your hand an extra squeeze, the temperature in his cheeks now a degree higher as he’s unable to find it in himself to vocalize he didn’t want to.

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤCOLD SHOULDERㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Batboys x Fem Reader

☆⁠ HEADCANON : When You Give Them the Cold Shoulder.

☆⁠ CHARACTERS : Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Male Barbara Gordon, Male Stephanie Brown, Male Cassandra Cain, Terry McGinnis.

☆⁠ NOTES : English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

— BRUCE WAYNE ⋆

Bruce doesn’t do well with emotional games—he’s a man of logic, deduction, and shadows. So when you stop talking to him, no good morning kiss, no sarcastic remark about the news over coffee, no goodbye as he leaves for a mission—you can feel the shift.

He notices instantly.

He doesn’t say anything at first. That’s the terrifying part. He just looks at you. Like he’s dissecting you. Like you’re a crime scene.

“Something wrong?” he asks, voice even, mask already half on.

You shrug and walk away.

Bruce is bothered, but he doesn’t chase. Not yet. He waits, watches. You don’t text him that night. You don’t check in. You leave the mansion before he wakes up.

By day three, you find your favorite flowers at your doorstep. A small envelope. His handwriting:

“I’m not good at this. But I care. Whatever I did—talk to me.”

He doesn’t beg. Bruce doesn’t beg. But his apology is in the way the manor seems colder without him trying to sit beside you. It’s in the quiet presence at the edge of your room, waiting for you to just look at him.

When you finally crack, he just opens his arms and says quietly, “Next time… yell at me. Don’t shut me out. I can’t fix what I don’t see.”

— DICK GRAYSON ⋆

Dick panics the second he realizes you’re giving him the cold shoulder. You’re usually so warm, so expressive—and now you’re cold? Quiet? Passive-aggressively sipping your drink and not laughing at his dumb joke?

He’s spiraling.

“Wait, what’d I do? Babe—babe, I know that look. That’s the ‘you’re dead to me’ look—what’d I do?”

You don’t answer.

He physically follows you around the apartment like a lost puppy. Tries to “accidentally” run into you in the kitchen. Holds up his phone like:

“Look. This meme? That I sent? You didn’t even react. You always react.”

By the end of the day, he’s crawling into bed beside you like a kicked dog, poking your shoulder.

“Listen. I know I messed up. I probably messed up bad. Just tell me, okay? I’ll make it up to you. Dinner, flowers, matching onesies, whatever you want. Please just talk to me again—I’m going crazy over here.”

Dick’s the kind of guy who feels the silence like a scream. He doesn’t stop until you finally crack and yell at him—and he just sighs in relief. “Thank God. You’re talking. Yell at me all you want, babe, just talk.”

— JASON TODD ⋆

Jason is... not the most emotionally mature guy in the room. So when you go quiet on him? He clocks it right away.

His first instinct is: “The hell is her problem?”

His second: “What did I do?”

His third: “…Okay, fine. Two can play that game.”

So now it’s a Cold War.

You ignore him? He ignores you harder. You roll your eyes? He scoffs. You sleep with your back to him? He “accidentally” hogs the blanket.

But here’s the thing: Jason’s bluffing. He’s miserable. He’s sitting on the fire escape chain-smoking because he’s too stubborn to just apologize first. He types out ten different “hey princess…” texts and deletes them all.

When you finally call him out—maybe you explode, maybe you just break down and say why you’re mad—Jason goes quiet. Real quiet.

Then he sighs. Pulls you into a hug.

“…I’m sorry, okay?” he mumbles into your hair. “I’m not good at the soft shit. But I love you. Don’t shut me out like that. It makes me… fuckin’ mad.”

Next time? He apologizes faster. Still grumpy about it. But faster.

— DAMIAN WAYNE ⋆

Damian refuses to acknowledge the cold shoulder at first.

You ignore him? Fine. He acts like he doesn’t care.

You roll your eyes? “Tt.”

You don’t respond to his usual sarcastic quips? “Clearly you’ve lost your sense of humor.”

But after a day or two? The cracks show.

He brings you your favorite tea and doesn’t say anything about it. Sits in your space and watches you out of the corner of his eye like a stray cat too proud to beg for food.

By day three, he’s visibly tense. The only sign of his growing unease is the way he overworks in the training room and snaps at everyone else.

Finally, he corners you. Not aggressively—but intensely. Arms crossed, lips thin, standing in your doorway like an angry little kitten.

“What did I do?” he asks, voice flat. “You’re angry. I can tell.”

He’s blunt. He doesn’t beg. But there’s a desperation in the way he hovers. When you finally tell him what hurt you, his jaw clenches. His apology is awkward but sincere.

“…I did not intend to hurt you. That was not my aim. But I apologize nonetheless.”

And then, softer: “Please don’t shut me out again. It’s… difficult to function when you are upset with me.”

Damian shows love through action. So after that? He acts. Flowers from your favorite place in the city. A sketch of you he drew at 3 a.m. A stubborn but heartfelt vow to “do better.”

Even if he still tts.

— BARRY GORDON ⋆

Barry is used to being in control—so when you go silent on him, it throws him hard.

He notices right away. And at first? He’s cocky. Teasing.

“Oh, we’re mad? What, you jealous of Supergirl again?”

You glare.

“…That was a joke.”

But when you don’t laugh—or worse, don’t even look at him—Barry starts pacing. Literally.

He’ll spend all night analyzing the conversation that led to this.

“Was it the mission? Did I interrupt you? Did I mansplain something again? God, I did, didn’t I?”

He’ll call. Text. Show up at your window. Tap the glass like a wet cat.

When you finally let him in, he talks a mile a minute.

“Okay, okay, I know I’m a jackass. I was being flirty at the gala, but that was just protocol! Diplomacy, babe! I love you!”

If you stay cold even then, he’ll finally drop the charm. Get real quiet.

“…Just tell me how to fix it. Please. I’ll do anything. Even sit through Titanic again.”

You do not want to know how fast he hugs you once you cave. Barry loves loud, but he hurts quiet.

— STEPHEN BROWN ⋆

Stephen is devastated.

He thrives off your attention. Your warmth. Your laughter. So when you suddenly go cold on him, he spirals.

First step: Denial.

“Ha ha… you’re just messing with me, right?”

You aren’t.

Second step: Drama.

“Okay, okay, is this about the glitter incident? Because in my defense, I thought it was washable—”

Still silence.

Third step: Crybaby.

He lays on the floor. Arm draped over his face.

“God is punishing me.”

Stephen texts you like:

💔

why have u forsaken me

[voice memo of him singing “All By Myself” into a fan]

Eventually, though, the jokes fade. He gets quiet. You find him on the fire escape, legs dangling, hoodie over his head.

“…I hate this,” he mutters when you finally approach. “Not knowing what I did. Not being able to fix it. You not… being you with me.”

He sniffs, trying to play it off.

“I know I’m a dumbass sometimes. But I swear I love you. Like, a lot. Like, "I’d let you kick me" love you.”

Once you forgive him? He clings.

“Never do that again,” he whispers into your neck. “Cold Shoulder You is my least favorite version.”

Also, you catch him journaling later:

“Today I almost died. Emotionally. Y/n was mad. But I survived. Barely.”

— CASSIAN CAIN ⋆

“…”

He doesn’t know what to do.

Cassian isn’t just a man of few words. He’s a man of zero words when it comes to emotional conflict.

So when you go cold—when your body shifts slightly away, when your eyes don’t meet his—he notices immediately.

It hits him like a blow. He feels it in the air.

And he panics. Internally. But outside, he’s just still.

He brings you small things. Your favorite candy on the counter. A neatly folded blanket on your side of the couch. No words. Just… presence.

He’ll sit nearby but not touch you. He doesn’t know if he’s allowed.

Eventually, he hands you a note. Folded. With his childish, naive handwriting:

“I did not mean to hurt you. Please tell me how to fix it.”

When you do finally speak, even if it’s angry or tearful or sharp—he listens. Soaks it in. His head bowed, his expression focused, like every syllable is precious.

He doesn’t interrupt. Doesn’t justify. Just nods with teary eyes.

And later that night, he says it for real. Quiet. Low.

“…sorry.”

Cassian doesn’t need words to show he loves you—but when he does speak, he means it with his entire soul.

— TERRY MCGINNIS ⋆

Terry’s first thought when you start giving him the cold shoulder is: “Oh god. Not again.”

Because he’s used to things going wrong. He’s used to messing things up. He has that subconscious fear that everything good in his life is temporary, especially you.

So when you stop responding to his texts, or start leaving the room when he walks in, he goes into lowkey panic mode—but tries to play it cool.

He’ll hover. Try to act casual. Lean on your doorway like he isn’t dying inside.

“You good?” he asks.

You nod.

“…Right. That’s convincing.”

He won’t push. He’s too scared you’ll say it’s over.

But one night, he shows up at your place in the Batsuit. Mask off, hair a mess, eyes tired.

“You don’t have to forgive me right away. But just tell me what I did. Please.”

There’s a vulnerability in Terry that breaks your heart. Once you finally talk, he holds your face like you’re glass.

“I’ll fix it. I swear to God, I’ll fix it.”

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[unreasonablerobin]

GOOD MORNING!

DC characters x reader

Synopsis: DC characters as random texts with their partner

(Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Al Ghul, Wally West, Kon El Kent, Koriand'r)

Tags: Fluff ♡, smau

A/N: How do we feel about the new vibe?? Crashed out while changing it yesterday.

[sangunary]

Hi hi! Can we have a baby reader that has a habit of biting, headbutting and crying whenever the Batfamily is in their costumes? The baby absolutely loves them and always clings onto the family,follows then around even when they're busy (sitting in Bruce's lap while he's having a online meeting,clinging onto Damian while he paints and draws with one hand, sleeping on Jason's lap while he reads, ect.) but the moment they put on their masks/helmet she instantly stars sobbing, throwing things and hiding from them and if anyone tries to hold them when they still have their costumes on they instantly try to bite or headbutt them?

ᯓBatFamily × Baby Reader ( Platonic ).

SYPNOSIS: Their beloved baby sibling cannot remember who they are under the mask.

IMP: PURELY platonic. Wayyyy longer then I wish.

Your mother died shortly after you were born and your father ran away after realising your existence.

Being a teenager your mother knew she couldn't care for you, as much as she hated to send you off into anothers arms it was for your own sake.

She couldn't be selfish and make you go through a terrible life of poverty and without a father as well.

It happened during a massive earthquake, a building for struggling pregnant teens collapse.

Batman was there to save life along with his children, your mother went into labour due to stress and unknown circumstances.

It was tragic, she had you there and before she could even glace at your face the light left her eyes...

Before her death she begged for Batman to hand you over to someone caple of loving you like how she had hoped to, he tried telling her she wouldn't die yet she knew... She chose you to live as she doesn't see a reason to be breathing if you can't be by her arms.

She rather stay with you even as a ghost.

Batman looking at the newborn crying at his arm's unlock unwanted feelings and memories and decided to raise you himself.

The rest of the family love's you, your precious smile and especially the way you would cling onto them.

You love warmth and affection, completely different from when you were born cold and empty.

Walking on your legs as you would follow after anyone that even glace at you, it was hilarious.

You have extremely short legs, swinging your hand's while you try to run towards them with loud whinning for them to notice you.

If they didn't notice you, you would simply sit down on the ground hard with a thud and fold your arm's, staring at them with the best frown you could manage with. Sitting there sulking in silence unless or until someone pick you up.

Dick love's to teach you acrobatic moves knowing damn well that you can barely run not without almost tripping and falling on your face, you weren't the most athletic baby.

Throwing you up in the air and catching you and then spinning with you, he just loves to hear that adorable giggles of yours you made whenever he does the most dangerous stunt with you.

Sitting you down on the couch as he does a handstand or a flip or anything as you would clap your hands together. He would try to make you do backflip which always ended in him getting hit by Barbara who would took you away from him.

"Look at our little performer! Aren't they the most impressive performer?"

Dick would show any of his sibling of your standing on his hands or you hanging onto his arms.

You would watch him train and even try to train with him which he cannot help but smile at.

You trying to reach the bar that literally felt like it was in heaven cause you saw Dick performing tricks on it, using all your strength trying to pick up heavy weight.

You would not let him train by himself, you felt a deep sorrow seeing him training by himself so you help out as much as possible.

Like, clinging onto him while he did some pull ups, surprisingly your grip is very strong and tight for your age. Resting your head on his shoulder, looking like a baby slot holding onto it's mother.

Or how you would try to hold onto the to dumbbell while he's using it to become he would probably be squished by it if you don't help.

After a few minutes you would be off to napping on the couch exhausted and tired.

If you don't felt like being with Dick you simply go to the next option, Jason.

Jason was alot more gentle scared that he might accidentally hurt you, he does always teach you about on how to be street smart, you don't understand anything he say's but you like to listen.

Seeing him read you would left everything behind to accompany him cause no one is left behind. Always blessing them with your heavenly presence.

Climbing onto the ridiculously talk couch known as the ' reading couch ' Jason would watch as you struggle to get up, it was adorable from his view and it was climbing mount Everest on your part.

You arm's can reach it yet your legs have a hard time trying to get up, when one leg is on the couch you just couldn't lift the other. You wouldn't ask for help either, you rather not seek help from the want needing you.

After you managed to climb the couch you would plop down on his lap or take one arm and warp it around you leaning onto him, looking at the written book infront of you... You can't read.

Jason would simply continue reading in his mind and would even aks you if you finish reading it before turning the page, knowing that you infact cannot read. He knows that you made up completely new word and story.

He's reading Pride and Prejudice you're reading about Baba Black Sheep.

At the Batcave while he's repairing his bike you would Crouch down next to him like his assistant, pointing at gears and nodding along.

Sometimes it's the most comfortable silence he ever had or he's just teaching you about gears and how to fix them.

Hell, he even lables the tools because you don't have the worst memorization factor.

Helping you fix your toy bicycle using toys while being extremely serious.

"Seems like you barely clean the gear, look at this mess, I didn't raise you to be neglecting your prise possesion like nothing"

"Look, touch the tire and feel it... flat, very flat, dangerously flat... We need to pump it up before you get into trouble and cry"

You nod your head vigorously, barely understanding on why he is making you feel the bicycle wheel that is solely made of plastic.

Tim was also your favourite.

You would sit on his laps as he work, the computer lighting up the place, doesn't matter how busy Tim was you always managed to slide in on his arms and just watch like a clueless raccon.

Talking to you about his case and you don't even catch half of the thing he's rambling about yet still nodding along.

If he is studying you would study along side him, holding onto the pencil and lining the alphabet while Tim was busy learning for exam.

Showing him your work whenever you are done and him rewarding you with a head pat.

He even let's you play dress up on his computer while hes taking a break: He's brainstorming there is no break.

His computer consisted of gruesome documents and records and there is also tons of dress up games, making cake, classic games and barbie movies... Safe to say, he pirates alot of barbie movie for your sake.

"The unicorn is her sister? That's beastiality"

"Reminds me of Damian... Must be his secret twin"

Seeing him drink energy drinks and coffee you have been begging to drink as well, cause whatever he does you do it as well no need for questions.

And as a result, he wrote 'Monsta' on a mug he bought you and pour you a drink whenever he drank them, and you would drink it proudly.

It was just mineral water that tasted like fruits, you'll have your first energy drink with him to cheer and witness the start of your addiction.

Damian on the other hand was the most serious of the bunch.

Hes an actual eagle, always there whenever you want hug or attention or even to be love. Scoop you up in his arms and left without a word. He will not have those vermin judge him for treating his siblings with love.

If he saw any of them putting you in danger do not be worried he have been luring behind the darkness before shit can get serious. He's the second shadow of yours ready to pound onto anyone who put you in danger.

He's very serious about your well being and mental state.

Although he did hand you weapons at such young age to train with, you can't blame him he started out young to so if you start young he could be much at ease .

Much to his dismay Bruce doesn't want you near violence in his defence it wasn't violence if they annoy you first.

Now you two are secretly learning how to fight with very very small progress, you cannot even hold onto a small stick for a minute a katana... Was something else.

He's absolutely protective of you since you're an incapable baby, if you see something flying at you you'll just meet it face first cry ahd forget. Have a higher chance of being kidnapped.

It's his absolute duty to protect you from harm, no one lays their hand on you without his permission... He will not tolerate insolent and mannerless people and he will make sure you do to.

Holding onto you while he paint, he never complaint no matter how uncomfortable it was because a good soldier never complaint for their comfort rather they suffer for someone they love.

You would nap in his arm or simply watch him perform his art, it was a quiet comfortable moment... It was a special time for the two of you to bond peacefully.

"Unicorn?"

You asked him, looking up at him who's eyes were still on his the Canva.

"I knew you weren't an intellect child but isn't this out of line even for you?"

"Uni"

"Alright, a horse with a corn on it's head then..."

He can't deny you when you don't even have the brain to register what he is saying, and not because he wanted to spoil you abit... and raise your standards.

Your father was usually busy, busy being Bruce and Batman at night. Since you're a baby it was alot harder for him to spend times with you.

Usually he could do that by spending time's during patroll but he won't allow a child to be a vigilante anymore.

As a result he tried to glue you to his side when he is free, although he wasn't a good father he tried.

He sometime doesn't understand what you are meaning to say and your siblings would have to translate it for him. Although he would try to figure it out before asking them.

Watching anything you enjoy doesn't matter how childish it was Bruce would sit down with you and watch it very seriously. Noting down whenever you laugh or bored for future special times.

Going to the local playground with you while all the mom's stared at him, muttering praise and complements for being such a good father while being single.

He knew they were staring at him since he literally is Bruce Wayne at a public playground, because he doesn't want to spoil you too much and wants you to have normal friends.

Pushing you on the swing, waiting at you at the end of the slide, pretending not to see you while playing hide and seek and even playing along with you during roleplay. He sincerely wanted to be a good father to atleast one of his children.

Unfortunately or fortunately he doesn't see you as a distraction from anything just a responsible he absolutely loves. That means you're everywhere he is at... Gala, outside and even meeting.

You would sit on his lap facing his laptop with a drowsy look on your face, playing with his fingers while he doesn't even seem to know that you are there.

His employees couldn't help but take pictures secretly, you don't look so enthusiastic about the meeting and even falling asleep occasionally. Yet Bruce would only acknowledges you to make sure you were comfortable and not too bored.

Well you did join his meeting because you honestly missed your father but that was a one time thing, now it was mandatory for you to be present during meetings cause you were the joy and happiness for him.

"If we don't have the available resources now our competitors will surely take advantage of that and left us with nothing"

"...Boss? are you listening?"

Bruce who was busy trying to settle your head to a more comfortable position while being as gentle as possible.

"Yeah, hear you... Just have to do some important work continue"

Yet as much as you cling and hold onto them whenever they are going to go out without you. You would freak out with their mask on.

Hiding behind Alfred holding onto him for your life looking at the strangers infront of you, to you they just ate your family. Your family goy eaten by those masks and God were you scared.

Dick would try to find a solution... To hold you then put the mask on but to no one surprise you freak out even more.

Struggling for dear life and even smacking him, tears already forming at your eyes terrified about the fact that your older brother just got eaten infront of you.

Then he would took it off and it took you a great minute to realise he was back from the death. Hold onto him suddenly and cry harder.

Jason terrified you the most, his head was literally engulfed by the helmet of his. You would try to save him by throwing anything you could grab and hold onto.

Grabbing the book closest to you and throwing it at him which barely hit him, hit him as hard as you could while he just stood there unbothered. Alfred would be the one making sure no one wear their complete costume near you.

You couldn't recognise them even if they wear it infront of you it'll make it much more worst. Biting onto them if necessary and headbutt them as hard as you could and it does hurt you and them.

You did headbutt Jason once you never did that again and he couldn't stop laughing after you did it, just the sound of metal being hit ring and utter silence... Followed with the Alfred picking you up before you could resistered the pain.

At first they thought it was just you being stupid and the more you see them the easier it would get... No, it got worst.

You're fully prepared by the time they had hoped for you to stop, thankfully you were strong enough to conflict any pain but you could pull hard enough to took some hair out, bite them or headbutt.

Your favourite was to just ran away while calling out for them not knowing that the person you were running from was the one you seeked.

[bloodyboi]

[damselneedssaving]

「 KISS ME THROUGH THE PHONE 」

OLDER!CLINGY!DAMIAN WAYNE X F!READER

★ SYNOPSIS: Unable to be apart from you for long, Damian chooses to call you while on patrol—and when that isn't enough to satiate his aching heart, he swings by your window to wish you a good night in person, and maybe a bit more.

★ TAGS: damian is 18+, suggestive content, longing/yearning, fluff, it physically hurts damian to be without you

★ A/N: inspired by 'kiss me thru the phone' by soulja boy, more longing/yearning Dami because no one can convince me that man is not a complete romantic who feels like his chest is being ripped out whenever his beloved isn't next to him 🥰

line divider by @cafekitsune

"I miss you," Damian's voice calls from the other side of the phone, tone so sincere, so loving, that you can feel it in the warmth of the moonlight spilling into your room.

Your lips curve up, eyes melting as you stare out your window like he's right there, stood at your fire escape just waiting to be let in. "You've said that five times already, Dami."

"And I'll say it five more: I miss you, Habibti."

The smile on your face grows without your permission, and your finger practically has a mind of its own when it moves to the sill of your window, tracing little hearts on the surface like some sort of lovesick schoolgirl.

He's always known how to reduce you to one.

"Isn't your dad with you? I thought he doesn't allow calls to partners on patrol."

You can practically hear the eye roll in his voice. "Tt. That man wouldn't know true love if it hit him over the head with a frying pan."

His words make you perk up, slumped over form suddenly upright with life and light and all the stars twinkling in the sky of the night as you exclaim, excitement seeping into your tone, "You watched Tangled!"

"Of course," he replies, firm but soft, like it's obvious, but without all the derision that usually comes with that. "You asked it of me."

His words are simple, but they're kind, sweet, like the candy floss he bought you on your date the other day—and just like how it's flaky strings melted on your tongue, you, too, melt on the spot.

"Dami..."

It's all you can say, his name all you've ever known, and all that you wish to know, as you stand there, under the rays of the moonlight, eyes closed and mind swarmed with the ghost of his touch.

"I miss you, Habibti."

You miss him too.

But your eyes open, crinkling further at the corners as your gaze drifts down and you whine out with all the fluster of a girl embarrassed by her man, "Dami..."

"Hm?" a smile speaks through his tone.

You kick the air. "Stop that..."

"Stop what?"

"Saying that..."

His chuckle sounds from the other side of the screen, hot enough to warm your insides.

"Saying what? That I miss you?" he asks, though you know that he knows the answer to his question, going on to then say, "Would you prefer I tell you how cold the night is without you by my side? Or how it feels like there's a hole in my chest as I jump under the starry sky?"

"Dami..."

"It's true."

"No"—you shake your head, turning away from your window with one arm crossed over your chest and a smile upturned on your lips—"I mean—I miss you too..."

The line goes quiet. Too quiet.

"Dami?"

No response.

"Damian?"

Still, nothing.

Your teeth graze your lip, biting down on it by the smallest hair as you feel your insides turn into ice, fingers readjusting themselves around your phone.

The silence is loud—

—until it isn't.

Like glass, it's shattered through by the sound of tapping, and when you turn, heart in your throat, you all but melt at the sight that greets you.

There, with one hand holding his phone up to his ear, and the other tapping its fingers against your window, is the love of your life.

Relief washes over you like a wave, drenching your form until your shoulders fall from its weight and you're left floating step-by-step towards your suited-up boyfriend.

Under the whites of his mask, his eyes hide, unreadable, but they don't need to be, you know by the fall of his shoulders and the slight smile on his face that he's just as eager to see you as you are to see him.

Splaying your hand over where his rests on the glass, you give yourself a moment to take him in, to calm the swell of your heart as you feel the way he stares at you like you're the only one in the world.

A beat passes with the two of you just staring at each other through the glass.

For a moment. All is right. All is warm. All is sound.

And then your heart cries out, and you find yourself lifting your window not a moment after.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, breathless, disbelieving.

"You said you missed me."

Then he adds, without even opening his mouth:

'So here I am.'

Your eyes crinkle for the umpteenth time, and he wastes no longer to perch himself on your windowsill and reach for your hands with his own gloved ones.

"Damian, you have to patrol."

He rolls his eyes, smile still on his lips. "The streets are safe enough in the hands of Batman alone." Then, his eyes crinkle. "I'd rather be here with you."

Warmth swells in your heart, and you almost can't help the way you lunge forward, wrenching your hands from his grip to instead, throw your arms around his neck and bury yourself in his chest, smile a little too wide against his suit.

The position is a little awkward, but it still feels right, natural, when he winds his arms around your back, and the warmth of him bleeds into your form.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too, Habibti."

Raising your head from his chest, you usher him in, and it's only then that his eyes wander, head tilting down a little in that familiar way it does when he's taking you in.

And as you take a step towards your bed, as you move to lead him further into your room, your body is abruptly halted, wrist in his grasp, before you're yanked with a firm tug straight back into his chest.

A smirk tugs at his lips.

"Habibti," he whispers, smug, like the word is a secret shared between just the two of you, his head dipping until his nose brushes your own. "Do you always wear such attire to bed?"

Your eyes widen, breath hitching in your throat as his gloved fingers start to play with the hem of your shirt.

"Perhaps you knew I wouldn't be able to resist visiting, and wore such clothing on purpose?"

His teasing runs hot and heavy on your ears, and he pulls you closer by the waist before you can even think of turning your gaze away.

"In that case, you wouldn't mind if I were to indulge, would you?"

[juicykvnture]

MONEY HONEY

Bruce Wayne x camgirl!reader

tags: AFAB reader, brief age gap mention (reader is in her 20s), Bruce is low-key a little jealous and down bad, nicknames (sweetheart/baby) mutual masturbation, praise kink, webcam use, phone sex,

a/n: the DILF propaganda has gotten to me..

wc: 2.7k | masterlist

Your whole camgirl side gig isn’t exactly something you shout from your rooftops about. But, it keeps your lights on, your ass in a nice apartment, and your feet in Louboutin heels.

You don’t tend to tell your friends what you’re at. Respectfully, that isn’t their issue. Weekly dinner reservations at Nobu and bottles of Dom Perignon should be enough to keep their running mouths occupied.

You have your own rules, you stick by them.

You pick and approve who watches your content, you pick how far you go, grateful that you’re in the position to do so. You don’t meet them in real life.

All you are is a fantasy to them, and you keep it that way.

You’re a pretty girl on a screen with a penchant for men with big bank accounts and more money than they know what to do with.

One of those men just so happens to be Bruce.

He came across you by accident, really. It was a couple of months ago by now.

You didn’t really know him, you didn’t really care. You never saw his face or heard his voice, all you saw was his money. He was always there when you did your regular streams, silent apart from hefty donations and notifications that he’d just ordered sets upon sets of pretty, lacy lingerie to your p.o box.

It’s started to shift recently. More money coming into your account, more matching sets, a new ring light since you’d grumbled under your breath about yours not working properly at one point, flowers.

Fuck, when’s the last time a guy even got you flowers?

He always made sure to outdo your other followers - tips of ten dollars sometimes, a twenty or a twenty five here and there. That’s cute and all, but to him? literal pocket change.

Not good enough in his books, not good enough for a pretty girl like you.

He has no reason to hate it, he’s just as bad as they are. But the green-eyed monster on his shoulder just has to prove he’s better, sending hundreds when he felt like it, just to watch your eyes widen.

Then came the messages.

They were few and far between but felt different than the thirsting, basement-dwelling idiots who usually drooled over your streams.

He kept it classy, always.

Less of the “show me your tits” and more of the “you look gorgeous, the pink lace suits you” followed by an “I’m sending you the blue next”

You like it, more than you’d really want to admit to yourself.

He likes it too. He likes watching your pretty face, your lips curling up into a soft smile when you open up all of his gifts, showing them off on your streams. He doesn’t mind that everyone watching can see them, it doesn’t matter. It matters that he bought those for you and that he’s the one getting his own personal photoshoot later.

You watch notifications pop up on your laptop with a sigh, your inbox flooded with messages, and questions from anything from where you live to why the hell you’re not streaming tonight.

You’re not streaming tonight cause you’re fucking tired, a girl needs her rest.

You’re just gonna take a few photos for your number one fan and call it a day. There’s a bottle of Chardonnay and half a pint of Ben and Jerry's in your freezer just calling your name.

As you fix up your nightgown, reaching over to turn off your laptop, a notification catches your attention.

@BRUCE_W: Hope you got the flowers in one piece, no stream this evening I take it?

You blink, staring at your laptop for a moment.

@CHAMPAGNESWEETHEART: they’re gorgeous, thank you!!

You hesitate for a moment, your nails dragging over your keyboard.

@CHAMPAGNESWEETHEART: I wasn’t planning to, but for you I could ;)

Three little dots come and go at the bottom of your laptop screen, like he’s typing and then pausing once more.

In reality, he’s just trying to get his words together, trying not to come across as weird. He doesn’t really know how to do this kind of stuff. He’s out many women through his mattress in real life, but this whole online thing? fuck no.

@BRUCE_W: is it alright if I call you?

You don’t usually take private calls. They take away both time and money from regular streams you could be doing.

But this is Bruce of all people. He’s solely responsible for the overpriced wine you’re sipping on and the LaPerla set you’re lounging in. You didn’t even know underwear could cost that much..

@CHAMPAGNESWEETHEART: gimme two seconds ;)

That sudden, random burst of confidence has you piling on another layer of mascara for good measure, pushing your tits up a little in reflection of your screen before cringing slightly - he’s just another guy, it doesn’t matter.

@BRUCE_W IS CALLING

You push your laptop down your mattress slightly, pulling your robe open a little more, just so he has some more cleavage to look at since he pays you so good.

You lean over, accepting the call and holding in a breath.

It goes unsaid, the sight of this Bruce guy before you isn’t entirely what you expected.

He’s much hotter, much older than you thought he would be.

It kinda clicks now, the fact that even in your comments he’s had more gentlemanly manners than your other regulars.

Luckily, you like your men like you like your wine, rich and.. slightly older.

Perhaps it’s the salt-and-pepper stubble or just the way they carry themselves, relaxed like they’ve done this all a million times before.

You observe him for a moment longer, noticing the dark room he’s in, his tie loose around his neck as he adjusts his own laptop.

He grips his whiskey glass a little tighter, words escaping him for a moment as he eyes you before offering a curt nod.

“Hey,” He seems a little uncertain at first, taking a drawn-out swig of his whiskey before leaning back in his chair.

“You're new to this I take it?” you offer a small smile into your hand, watching the screen from under your lashes.

“Wow, I thought I was subtle.” Bruce murmurs, setting his glass down for a moment.

He’s cursing himself silently. He’s never had any problem talking to women in his whole life. It’s ridiculous how a pretty girl on his screen has rendered him speechless- you’re what? twenty-something? It’s fucking embarrassing.

He can’t help letting his eyes wander down his laptop screen, shifting his thighs slightly when he sees the set he got you peeking out from under your robe.

“You look gorgeous, the pink set is to your taste, I take it?”

“It’s my favourite so far,” you nod, pushing your robe down your shoulders slightly, just a little bit, just to tease.

He makes a mental note to buy you more, to send them to you in every single colour he can get his hands on. He’s trying not to spiral thinking about it actually, imagining you modelling every single thing he wants to dress you up in.

But now just isn’t the time to fantasise about that stuff, not when he has you on the screen in front of him. Just for him, for once.

“How does this work?” He clears his throat, setting the glass down and trying to ignore the way his slacks feel tighter.

“However you want it to work.”

Your answer has his hands sliding down to rest on his thighs, leaning back in his chair.

You leaving it up to him like that has a way of making his spine tingle, he can tell you’re a little bit tired at least. It’s nice actually, it doesn’t feel like you’re putting on as much of an act.

"Can you talk to me first, for a little bit?" He managed to reply, his eyes taking in the view in front of him.

“Please?”

“Anything you wanna hear about?”

“Not really,” he swallows, his eyes fixed on your cleavage.

“I just like your voice. Is that a strange thing to say?”

You feel your cheeks heating up slightly, shaking your head as you pull your robe open by another little fraction.

“No, not at all.”

You can tell he doesn’t want this to feel like a transaction.

After a few minutes of back and forth, a lot of his initial hesitation has dissipated. You do genuinely seem like a sweet girl. He likes the way you act on your streams anyway, but since he’s technically calling you after hours it feels a lot more intimate, real even.

“Tired?” He rasps softly into his glass, arching a brow when he hears you trailing off slightly, watching you move to lean back against your plush headboard.

“A little.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll try not to keep you up too long, sweetheart.”

You’re not one to really care for pet-names that randos on the internet give you but good God, does that make you feel things.

It has you pressing your thighs together, more than it fucking should.

“I don’t mind.” You murmur, thankful that he isn’t there in real time to notice the way your cheeks heat up.

Seeing your reaction made his eyes soften.. and his cock throb a little, letting out a small sigh as if he were relieved, glad he isn’t bothering you. He didn't realise how on edge he was until you took that weight off of his shoulders.

"Good." Bruce murmurs, his eyes watching your hands fiddling with the sleeve of that robe, his mind wandering.

"Can I ask you to.. take that off?"

“You can ask for anything you want.” You nod, gently twirling your fingers around the tie of your robe, pulling it open.

Your compliance, along with the sight of the soft lace pressed against your skin has him swallowing, his narrowed gaze roaming over every single contour of your body.

"Good girl." He muttered under his breath. Those two words felt almost foreign to say, but he said it anyway, seeing you like this.

You shouldn’t care. It’s just work.

But fuck, does it feel like more than that.

His hands fidgeted on the arms of his chair, resisting the urge to undo his belt, his cock straining in his slacks getting harder to ignore.

Noticing his discomfort you shift slightly on your bed, running your fingers over the lace of your bra.

“I’m not gonna stop you, you know that?”

Bruce's eyes flickered up to the screen, seeing your small smile, your fingers gently playing with the lace. Those words alone were enough to make his hands immediately move to work on his belt, fumbling with it to take it off before popping the button of his slacks, letting out a groan under his breath.

"I was just... trying to be polite."

Watching him makes you bite your tongue slightly, trying to hide the way you press your thighs together again, your eyes locked on his through the screen as you slowly slide your hand down lower, running your thumb over the bow at the front of your underwear.

“I never asked you to be.”

“Fuck, I feel like I buy you dinner first,” His hands quickly went to the opening of his slacks, not wasting time to pull out his hardening length, giving himself one firm stroke.

Your mouth is agape for a split second, staring at your screen with wide eyes.

It’s just work. None of this is real. None of this matters.

But you know what does matter? The fact you’re wet and can’t even hide it under that thin, pastel pink lace.

"Shit." He murmured, trying to keep his eyes on the screen.

His left hand moved from the armrests to grab at his whiskey to down it in one go, taking in the sight in front him.

"Are you wet, sweetheart?"

“Yeah?” Your nod is less confident than you’d like it to be as you run your fingers over the lace again, letting out a shaky breath. You shouldn’t care - this is literally just part of what you do.

"Take them off for me, baby." He panted out, his dick now straining in his boxers so hard it’s almost painful. His other hand gripped onto his thigh, his fingers digging into his legs to ground himself as much as he could.

"Let me see you."

You’re repeating your mantra over and over in your head. You’ve got zero reason to be as turned on as you are, it’s just work.

But your pussy seems to disagree on that one.

With another nod, you hook your fingers into the thin fabric, gently pulling your underwear down your thighs, the sight making Bruce bite his fist to hold back a groan.

He literally can’t take it anymore. He can’t be polite.

“Holy fuck,” He lets out another groan as he takes himself in his hand, spitting into his palm.

Okay, you liked that more than you should’ve.

"You have no idea how... good you look right now." He rasps out, his head tilting back against his chair.

"All... for me, yeah?" His hand on his thigh moved up to his chest, fumbling the top few buttons on his shirt. He needed to feel a little cooler or he’d have a literal heart attack.

“Yeah,” you manage another nod.

“Spread your thighs, baby. Show me how wet she is.”

Well, now it’s your turn to almost have a heart attack, spreading your thighs open as your fingers curl into your bedsheets.

“There she is, good girl” Bruce moaned under his breath, his hand on his cock starting to move faster.

"Pretty girls... like you.." His tongue came out to swipe at his lips, the sight in front of him making him lose his train of thought, reaching a hand up to loosen his tie.

"They deserve to be taken care of, right?”

“Right,” you echo, unable to hold yourself together at this point, going against your usual logic and reaching your hand down, groaning under your breath at how your body betrays you with how embarrassingly wet you are.

Your arm instinctively goes to drape over your eyes, shaking your head as you mumble something incoherent, your fingers rubbing over your clit.

“No no no, look at me,” Bruce chokes out, biting down on his tie to hold back yet another groan.

“Your hands are mine, alright?”

That makes your head fall forward, your back arching at the thought of it.

“Uhuh,”

You don’t care that you’ve never met him, you don’t care that you probably never will, but fuck, the things you’d let him do to you if you ever did.

He bites his tongue for a moment, brows knitting together as he feels himself starting to leak even more, giving his cock another hard pump.

“But my hands are probably bigger than yours, aren’t they?”

That makes you whine under your breath. You know he’s right and now you can’t get that fucking image out of your head - his large hands holding your thighs open, holding your neck maybe, his fingers in your mouth, his fingers against your pussy-

You’re trying not to drool at the thought of it, it’s not working and he can tell exactly what you’re thinking.

He’s thinking the same thing.

“Poor girl, everyone gets off to you but no one to get you off? You just wanna get fucked, don’t you?”

You can’t tell if he’s being condescending or not - but he likely is.. unfortunately, you like that.

“F-fuck,”

Progress, he’s made you lose your composure and swear. Not so classy now, are you?

Watching your back arch and your fingers move faster when he says that has his mouth falling open, sweat clinging to his chest under his open shirt.

He’s been through enough women to know what it looks like when one’s about to cum, but dear god you might just be the prettiest one he’s ever seen.

It makes him lose his shit altogether actually, a dishevelled mess when he sees your thighs shake, too distracted to realise that he isn’t far behind you, groaning under his breath with his mouth agape as he stares at the mess he’s made of his tailored slacks, chest heaving as his own cum drips down his fist, he’s embarrassed, fumbling with his laptop to shut the screen off.

Jesus Christ, he’s Bruce Wayne. Not some 20-something year old. He’s been around the block! He should be able to do better than this!

It’s like you’re blacked out for a good while, regaining a sense of reality with slick dripping down your thighs as you come down from your high, mascara pooling under your eyes as you stare at a notification on your laptop, making you press your legs together again.

@BRUCE_W: I’m serious, I owe you dinner.

He owes you a lot fucking more than that.

a/n: DILF ERA IS COMING SEND ME INSPO IN MY ASKS I BEGGGG!?!!?? I NEED IDEAS (lmk if u want more Bruce idk??) 🙏 (John Constantine I have my eye on you with ominous intent..)

also wtf thank u for 200 followers I love you!!

[yintous]

party 4 u

❪ masterlist ❫ · out of character (or not) things the batboys did while being head over heels for you ⸝⸝⸝ crackfic ノ situationship hcs

🗒️ not proofread, more content under the cut ; VERY SATIRE. inspired by my sweeter than honey work and stupid things i did for my ex-situationship

DICK GRAYSON

wholeheartedly cussed out a barista inside his head when he saw them subtly flirting with you at the cashier

when his jealousy is mild he’s like “oh my god. i hope they slip on a drink and ruin that stupidly clean apron.” or “i can make a better latte! (name) just hasn’t seen it yet 🙄”

and he actually did learn how to make a better latte—that resulted in you visiting his apartment for morning coffee (when you went home he turned to the sky and absorbed the sunlight. eyes closed and everything out of pure gratitude)

started journaling whenever he got impulsively jealous and frustrated over the unlabeled relationship and somehow it always ends up being a love letter to you???

when he senses your presence, he gives himself five seconds to fix his hair and practice a charming smile before facing you 😭😭😭 atp it’s a habit he can never get rid of

you once saw him smiling weirdly at a mirror when he thought you weren’t looking (he was trying to see what the best smile was…..literally scrolled abt the types of smiles people have before it all) and you had to resist the urge to outright giggle

JASON TODD

listened to radiohead’s whole discography when he first got jealous while glaring at his ceiling, arms crossed and everything

his brooding got ruined when his earphones started glitching and he had to hold one of them at a specific angle so both of them would have audio

brushes his bangs back whenever he sighs at the thought of you (you literally cannot leave his brain). he brushed his hair back so often you thought he suddenly started liking slickbacks

scrolled through a comment section full of people that were ranting abt the annoying stuff their partners do and made a vow to himself to never do the things mentioned to you

goons CANNOT get away from him when he’s having a day wherein he got jealous over someone else flirting with you 😭 and after allat beating up and shooting the said goons, he acts like nothing happened

as in he literally texts you a “good evening” text and asked if you were free for dinner (it was two am)

TIM DRAKE

he felt like he was in a bad romcom. desperate times call for desperate measures i fear 💔 tried to analyze your body language to somehow read your mind/feelings toward him (he got 0 sleep that day)

wasn’t a believer in astrology but proceeded to analyze his and your birth chart to see if you guys would fit (he somehow found your documents)

tried the “triangle method” on you where he looks to your left eye, then your right, then to your lips—and was genuinely confused when YOU looked confused

you overheard him ranting to himself about your situationship. he was putting a lot of emotion into it

(sometimes he literally mumbles in ANGER abt it when he sleeps)

tried to deepen his voice around you (esp during the times where you two banter) but it did nothing but make the mood awkward (grew the habit of sending vms instead of text messages while deepening his voice bc he thought it’ll make you like him more)

DUKE THOMAS

bit a little too hard on your bottom lip while kissing you

he could’ve sworn he saw the grim reaper because of how embarrassed he was when he heard your noise of pain LIKE 💔💔 every time he closes his eyes, he sees it happening again

like jason, his charger instead of his earphones broke while texting you so he had to angle his phone a certain way while trying to keep up a convo with you

to make it even worse, it was overheating and all too 🥀🥀🥀 in the back of his mind he could already see the image of his phone exploding right in front of him but he still didn’t gaf and continued texting you

was lowkey obsessed with your perfume and hated the push-and-pull situationship thing so when you were away from him, he went on a whole perfume hunt

and the salespeople who assisted him were so?? confused?? because of how specific his description was??? and the description felt targeted to a certain someone instead of it being about an actual perfume??

DAMIAN WAYNE

dedicates every art he’s consumed to you OR gets inspired by said art to create something similar to the media that was presented to him

once wrote a romeo and juliet piece but it was yours and his version of it with no death or wtv (he made one of the lines from the story his wallpaper)

made a 100 excuses about needing to learn body anatomy so you’d get the hint and FINALLY let him use your appearance to study anatomy (he needed an excuse to look at you more without getting teased)

overheard that you liked ear piercings on guys so he pierced himself while half asleep in his bathroom

he would’ve regretted it if he didn’t catch your eyes wandering to the new piercing the morning after

impulsively carved your name on his sword and he is NOT hearing the end of it from his family at all

© yintous do not copy, repost, plagiarize, or feed any of my work into ai.

[msfantasy-comics]

Don’t mind me— just self promoting :)

The Perfect Match

Bruce Wayne x Reader

Summary: A head cannon on how you’re the perfect match for Bruce.

Warning: Established relationships

Navigation

Bruce had always considered the concept of a perfect match to be a feeble notion. The idea that a someone could be perfect and perfectly compliment one’s self was simply illogical and just not possible.

But that’s the thing about hypotheticals, they’re just theories until proven otherwise. Bruce can distinguish five instances on when he recognised you to be his perfect match.

Intelligence:

You weren’t a genius capable of rattling off theories and solving impossible equations. Not by any means. You were, however, incredibly intelligent when it comes to people and making them feel important.

It wasn’t a super power or psychological trickery. It was that you listened to people and ask them questions about their hobbies or family.

It was the way that you leaned in as if you were keen to hear what that person had to say.

It was the way you smile softly when people start to babble off in excitement as you reciprocate the conversation

Whilst you didn’t fully comprehend quantum physics or the engineering to Bruce Wayne’s degree

You sat there happily indulging Bruce as he discusses a new equation he solved

It was the way you made him feel like he could talk about anything without judgement or without your eyes wondering elsewhere in boredom.

Bruce: “Anyway, you probably have more important things to do.”

Y/n: “Don’t be silly. You’re just as important. Go on, finish what you were saying.”

Independence:

Bruce dreaded needy women who are utterly incapable of being self-sufficient. Who required rescuing and constant entertainment like a puppy.

Bruce: “I have an emergency work trip for an unspecified amount of time. I probably won’t be able to contact you too much. Will you be okay without me?”

Y/n *acting like a damsel in distress*

Y/n: “Oh no! I’m being abandoned in the biggest mansion with a butler, a library and a black Amex card. What could one do with one’s self? What a travesty!”

Bruce would return from his two week trip excited to see you again after not being in contact the whole time.

Only you weren’t at the mansion at 4pm on a Tuesday.

Bruce *calling your phone*

Y/n: “Hi honey! I missed you so much!”

Bruce: “Come home and show me how much you’ve missed me.”

Y/n: “What? I finish work in an hour, surely you can survive 60 more minutes without me- oh I have to go, I’ll see you soon my love!”

Supportive:

Bruce didn’t make it to your anniversary dinner.

He didn’t even have a chance to call you and cancel.

He exited the bat cave feeling utterly guilty for abandoning you on such an important occasion.

Bruce felt utterly defeated. A failure of a father. Batman got into a one on one fist fight with Red-Hood, attempting to save the Jokers life, only for his son to forsake himself. Now he had to face his failures as a husband.

Opening the door he sees you laying in bed, scrolling away at your phone.

As soon as you noticed him you tossed the phone and made a mad dash, pulling him into a bear hug.

Y/n: “Honey, I’m so proud of you. Being there when your son needed you most. You’re such a good man. Don’t be hard on yourself, remember that Jason is a grown man who made his decision.”

Pulling Bruce to bed, you pull him into a tight hold and continue to comfort him.

Bruce really appreciated that you didn’t bring up his absence.

Bruce: “I missed our -“

Y/n: “You didn’t miss anything. Your with me now aren’t you? Happy anniversary my beloved.”

Emotionally Stable:

Damian was over your nagging.

Y/n: “Damian, you need to get more sleep. I’m worried your burning yourself out.”

Y/n: “When was the last time you had a proper meal? You can’t survive off burgers alone you know.”

Y/n: “When was the last time you saw Jon? You have to maintain your friendships or else they fall apart.”

Y/n: “Stop having these energy drinks! It’s basically poison for your body - have you had any water today? You look dehydrated!”

You snatched the can out of his hand and threw it in the bin.

Damian lost his absolute shit.

Damian: “Enough with your incessant criticism!You’re getting on my nerves!”

Crosses his arms over his chest and looks off in irritation.

Bruce stands frowning behind him, ready to give his son the scolding of a life time.

But instead your laughter booms across the bat cave.

You find Damian’s little outburst amusing and adorable rather than rude and hurtful.

Y/n: “You’re right D, I’m sorry, I’ll lay off you a bit.”

You’d pull him into that tight hug he says he hates but he always leans into your comforting hold.

Y/n: “You boys be careful tonight, I’ll see you both in the morning”

[athenalvss]

FIRST LOVE ▬ Dick grayson

Summary: A young Dick Grayson is in love with one of his father's younger teammates in the Justice League.

a/n: I think Dick in the s1 of yj was 13/14 and I write abt reader like she has 19/20, Just to communicate the age gap, enjoy :)

pairing: (platonic) yj!dick grayson x fem reader

open request - Dick masterlist

The first time you met was once when Bruce took you to the Batcave to accompany him on a mission, actually only Dick met you, he was not allowed to be there tonight, Bruce had forbidden him to go down to the cave that night and that they would not go out on patrol together, and there he was hiding watching the interaction between the most beautiful girl he had seen in his short thirteen years and his adoptive father.

You stood next to Batman, nodding as he explained the details of a simple reconnaissance mission. You were dressed in your suit, a modern design that combined functionality with style, and your posture displayed confidence… though a friendly smile softened your features.

Batman walked you toward the Batmobile, helping you get in, and Dick saw you laugh at something he said. Laugh. With Batman. As if that were even possible.

How unfair life was to him.

But the first time you officially met was shortly after Young Justice was created. Bruce, dressed as Batman and Red Tornado, had introduced you to the small group of teenagers with the intention of having you be part of their training, and perhaps even help them understand the great responsibility that this job entails at a young age.

But young Robin was too busy bragging that he already knew the pretty girl.

"Team," Red Tornado announced in a mechanically solemn voice. "This is the newest active member of the Justice League. She'll assist in your training."

You stood confidently beside Batman, smiling kindly at the group of expectant teenagers.

"Hey guys" you greeted with a friendly smile. "I hope we can learn a lot together. "

Robin almost fainted.

Of course he recognized you.

The goddess of the Batcave was there, in the same room, and this time... he could talk to you without hiding behind the Batmobile.

Wally nudged him. “Wow... who is she? She’s so f...”

"What are you saying, Wally?!" Robin interrupted quickly, his voice a little louder than usual.

Everyone looked at him, he cleared his throat, crossing his arms as if he hadn't just yelled in front of the team. "I mean, obviously I know her. She's been in the Batcave before. With Batman. And me. Nothing new for me. "

Wally raised an eyebrow, amused. "Really? And you didn't say anything?"

Robin shrugged, putting on his best 'this doesn't affect me' pose, although he was sure his ears were turning red under the mask.

"I didn't mean to brag," he said with a small smile. "But we've already talked. she was on a mission with B, and I showed her some things about the cave. She asked me for advice. The usual."

Wally chuckled. “she asked you for advice, sure.”

You stepped forward, smiling warmly as you watched them. “Robin, right?” you asked, addressing him directly.

The boy's heart almost fell to the floor.

"Yes," he replied immediately, straightening as if he were undergoing a military inspection. "Of course. Robin. You know, the first one. The original. The best. Your Robin."

Wally coughed to hide a laugh.

"Thank you for having me. I'm happy to be here," you continued calmly, then lowered your voice a little. "And.... I remember you."

Robin froze.

—I wasn't sure if I should tell you, but... I thought it was really cute how you hid behind the computer that night.

Robin blinked. “How…?”

"Boy, do you think I'd be in the League if I didn't see you hiding behind a piece of furniture? No one escapes a League member," you winked mischievously.

Wally squealed with laughter as Robin raised a hand to his face. "I'm going to need an identity change," he muttered.

ᯓ★

The Watchtower meeting hall was lively, finally the young league had been allowed to come see the place and watch the daily routine of the heroes who were there, what should have been a happy day for everyone, for Robin, the energy of the place had a slightly bitter taste.

From his place leaning against the wall, arms crossed and brow slightly furrowed, he watched the scene in front of him as if it were a movie he hadn't asked to see.

You were standing in the middle of the conference room, laughing with Hal Jordan, while he excitedly gestured about who knows about what. The way you laughed, with your shoulders slightly raised and that genuine expression of amusement… it didn't help at all.

Robin looked away with a silent grunt. 'Great,' he thought, now his special day at the Watchtower was ruined by the more annoying version of Green Lantern and his damn perfect white teeth and that jagged jawline.

"Relax, Wonder Boy," Wally told him, appearing at his side, munching some cookies from the base's kitchen. "They're just talking."

"Who said I'm not relaxed?" Robin replied, a little too quickly.

—Your face. You have a “I want to throw a batarang at Green Lantern” vibe.

Robin snorted. “I wouldn’t throw a batarang at him…” Pause ."…very strong. "

At that moment, you turned your head slightly and smiled at Batman, who had come over to review some files with you and Hal. Batman said something to you in a low voice, and you nodded with a warm smile.

Dick felt a small emotional short circuit.

Bruce now too? Bruce?!? Since when did you smile like that with him?! I thought your thing with Batman was respect, professional admiration… not those kind of smiles that gave you stomach cramps!

Wally spoke again, his mouth still half full of crackers. “I think you should take a deep breath before you explode like an overloaded microchip, buddy.”

At that moment, you said goodbye to Hal with a gentle pat on the arm and walked toward the group of young people. Your eyes lingered on Dick for a second, and your smile widened.

"Wally, Robin," you greeted him in that warm tone you only used with him, even though he refused to admit it. "How was your visit?"

Dick cleared his throat and straightened his back as if he hadn't been frowning with dramatic intensity for five minutes. Wally, for his part, smiled as if nothing had happened.

"That's great!" the speedster replied. "I mean, it's not every day you see Superman eating a giant salad for lunch, right?"

You laughed softly, and that laugh was enough to make Dick forget for half a second that he was angry at Hal Jordan, at you, at Bruce, and at cosmic injustice in general.

"And you, Robin?" you asked with a nod. "What did you think?"

Robin opened his mouth, but for some reason the words didn't come out immediately. His brain, which normally ran at the speed of a supercomputer, seemed to have rebooted.

"I'm... fine. Everything," he murmured, before clearing his throat and adding in a firmer tone. "The security design of the north corridors is quite efficient. Although there is a minimal leak in the retinal scanner in room 6B. Nothing serious, but... I noticed it."

Wally looked at him as if he had just quoted an engineering manual in the middle of a conversation about movies.

You smiled with genuine amusement and nodded, as if you didn't find it ridiculous at all. "I knew you'd notice something like that. Good eye."

Dick felt like he was floating.

"Yeah, well... efficiency's my thing," he said with a slight shrug, trying to sound casual. Wally nudged him, not conspiratorially this time, but to keep him from falling over because of his inflated ego.

"You're adorable."

Dick felt as if the ground disappeared for a second beneath his boots.

And Wally, behind him, lost it: he put his hand to his mouth to hold back a laugh.

"See you later, little guards," you added sweetly, ruffling his hair before leaving with Hal, who was waiting for you at one of the doors.

Dick stood still, as if struck by lightning.

"I'm not little..." he murmured.

Wally patted him on the back with a laugh. "Bro... you just got lethally friendzoned with love. You're going to remember this for years."

Dick didn't reply. He just touched his messy hair with a silly half smile he couldn't stop.

ᯓ★

It was your first time accompanying Young Justice on a mission, and everything had gone to hell so fast you couldn't believe it.

No one understood what was happening, but since you were the oldest of all, you were supposed to stay calm and find a solution for this strange moment.

The rift in the sky had exploded without warning. A blinding white flash enveloped them, and the next thing they knew, they were no longer in their timeline.

The technology, the architecture, the atmosphere: everything indicated they'd traveled several years into the future. Just enough to make some familiar faces unrecognizable... and others too recognizable to not send shivers down your spine.

“Where… are we?” Aqualad asked, cautiously assessing the spot where they had landed.

"That's what I'd like to know," said a deep, confident voice behind you.

You turned around as a reflex .

And there he was

Tall, imposing. In a black suit with a light blue symbol in the middle of his chest, he looked like a boy about your age, one you definitely didn't know.

"Are you...?" He looked at everyone, his attention finally settling on you. "Oh, damn."

"I'm surprised to see you here. Although I must admit… so far, this has been a pleasant visit."

Robin narrowed his eyes .

"Do you know us?" you asked cautiously.

"Let's just say I have good memories," he said, in a tone that made you raise an eyebrow.

Dick, in the background, clenched his fists. Good memories? What kind of memories?

Nightwing winked at you before looking back at the group. "But don't worry, I won't leave you trapped in my time. We'll figure out how to get you back... after we catch up."

Robin couldn't stop staring at him. Would this be what he'd be like in the future? Would this be how he'd behave? Would this be how he'd talk to you...?

And the worst part is, you didn't seem upset. In fact, you were smiling.

Maybe you weren't recognizing Dick as Nightwing, they didn't look much alike, but it was inevitable for Dick not to recognize himself. .

"We need to talk alone," he said in a serious tone.

Nightwing hesitated, but nodded, and the two of them walked off into a darker hallway.

And there, when they were far enough away, Robin turned to him with a frown. "Hey... you," he began, somewhat awkwardly, "I mean, me. Major. Can I ask you something?"

Nightwing looked at him curiously. “Shoot.”

"She..." he swallowed. "You know, she... In this time... you and her, are you...?"

Nightwing looked at him for a long second before answering. "No, Dick. We were never together."

Silence.

Dick blinked . "Excuse me?" he said with an incredulous chuckle. "Never as in 'not yet'? Or never as in never, never?"

Nightwing gave him a sympathetic look. That was worse.

"As in “never ever.” As in “your eternal crush will eventually marry someone else.” As in “you had zero chance, bro.”

Dick opened his mouth. He closed it. Then he opened it again, only to complain with all the drama his frustrated little teenage body could muster.

"Are you telling me that neither growing up, nor having this cool guy demeanor, nor having that deep, sexy voice, I achieved anything?! Nothing at all?!"

Nightwing shrugged. “Well… you managed to maintain a nice friendship. That’s something.”

"A NICE FRIENDSHIP!" Dick repeated, his face one of existential outrage. "You flirted with her five minutes ago! You flirted with her in front of me like it was the most natural thing in the world!"

"Sure, but she didn't know it was me, or rather, you."

Dick pointed at him as if it were evidence in court. "That makes everything worse!! You flirted with her like someone else and it failed!"

[batologyi]

Thinking about Pervert Arkham Knight rn. Don't ask why I made this, I just did

~~~~

He shouldn’t need this. Not with everything else going on. Not with the militia spread thin and patrol routes needing adjusting and another damned skirmish with the Bat looming. But when the hour hits, that itch crawls back up his spine and burns behind his eyes. That need—not just want—to be close.

His men see it sometimes. The way he disappears. How his eyes glaze over in the middle of briefings. He doesn’t offer excuses anymore.

"Mind your fucking business," he growls one night when someone’s brave enough to ask where he goes.

Because they wouldn’t get it. Not really. Not the way he gets you.

You, a civilian. Untouched. Soft.

So unaware.

It’s become ritual. Like clockwork.

When you’re at work—gone, predictable—he slips in. He never rushes. He takes his time, peeling off gloves like a lover about to get intimate. Boots placed carefully on your doormat. There’s a kind of reverence in the way he moves through your apartment.

Straight to the laundry basket.

There they are.

Worn. Faintly warm still, maybe. Panties twisted around themselves, innocent in their placement. It’s nothing special to anyone else, but to him? It’s goddamn holy. He kneels beside them like it’s prayer. Drags them up to his masked face and breathes in deep—almost shuddering from how sharp and raw it hits him.

That scent. That fucking scent.

He fists his cock fast, rough, biting back every sound behind clenched teeth. His thighs shake, his breath comes out in heavy snarls, and he doesn’t stop until he spills all over them—strings of cum soaking the delicate fabric, catching along the seams.

He rubs it in with gloved fingers. Pushes it into the gusset, into the threads. Like marking them. Like staining your memory with him even if you’ll never know.

Then he folds them back. Neat. Precise. Returns them to the pile like nothing ever happened.

He’ll do it again in a few days. He always does.

Sometimes, when he’s feeling bolder, he creeps in at night instead.

You sleep like an angel. On your side. One hand curled under your pillow. Breathing soft, lips parted. You look untouched. Vulnerable. Dreaming.

He stands in your room for too long, just… staring. Cock already hard from the scent of your sheets.

He doesn't touch you. Not yet.

But he takes photos. Hundreds. Fingers ghost over your skin through the lens. He imagines what your skin would taste like. What sound you’d make if he climbed into bed and pressed his hips into yours.

He steals things, too. Shirts you slept in. A used tissue. A pillowcase that still smells like your shampoo.

He has a shrine.

You don’t know it. But your presence is everywhere in his hideout—folded panties tucked into drawers, Polaroids pinned beside gear schematics, a shirt of yours tucked under his mattress, stiff with dried cum.

Jason knows he’s sick. Twisted. Deranged. But he doesn’t care. Because you're perfect. And he’s already made you his. Even if you haven’t noticed yet.

[invincibledc]

Demetrius’s hair was getting a bit long, dear Zeus he looks like his mother. His wavy black hair hits to his back, but seeing you, the other Robin, twin of Damian Wayne (aka his best friend.) he reels back when seeing you gasp.

“Your hair!!!! It’s long!!” You practically have sparkles in your eyes as you rushed over to him. “It’s so beautiful! So pretty!” You threw a few Arabic words that he knew was soft praises.

You are the only person, out of his family, can make him blush as he stares at his boyfriend. “Really, moro mou?” “Yes!” You gave him a big hug, despite his bulging biceps and rough abs. Demetrius relaxes and kisses your head.

“Okay, love.”

Bonus:

Demetrius is having a wash day when Lizzie comes around. “What are you doing?” She asked.

“Being pretty.” Demetrius replies back as he ties his hair up.