#dc x reader only

[fluffy-anna]

SOMEWHERE IN THE WAYNE MANOR

[killakalx]

17+ content, blank blogs dnf

just bsf!dick grayson making you squirt and calling you babe... as a friend of course

“you mean- never?” dick grayson inquires in a flat tone, almost in disbelief. you confirm with a simple and high pitched nope, speaking of all the times you’ve failed to cum using just your hand.

he’s ecstatic at the idea, even if he suspects it’s your attempt of getting him back in your bed. he’s subject to details like this, being your best friend. not to mention you’ve had conversations similar before; but this time is different. this time, you’re having a casual conversation about your bland sex life a week after dick got the chance to fuck the lights out of you; and the chance wasn’t missed, nor a regret. so yes, he sees the bait, and he’s more than happy to take it.

like the clever bastard he is, dick gets you to give him the green light rather than blatantly falling for it. I've slept with people like that, he boasts, you know me though. a few more sneaky remarks and you're sucking the inside of your cheek in defeat before you tell him to 'demonstrate'.

now he’s got a hand down your shorts, carefully situating you into his lap and keeping a steady hand pinching at the fat of your hips. "how's that?" dick asks, circling your clit with generous pressure before slipping right inside. his fingers hit you deep, way deeper than your own or anyone else's, and that little fact has him all the more eager.

calculated efforts nudge at that sweet spot and you gasp, thighs flinching and giving him more room to get a little deeper. you glance at him with an almost awkward expression but he’s already enthralled, lazily tugging your shorts down a bit further with a hungry glint in his eye.

“it’ll feel better when you calm down,” dick coos at you, a sly hand slipping under your shirt to brush over a hardened nipple. “relax for me.” he’s gentle with you despite his brewing impatience, scissoring and spreading your cunt open on his fingers to coax you out of your nervousness. you start rolling your hips and his fingers curl way deeper, eyes shooting open with a soft cry of his name.

“it feels…“ you start with a pleasurable hitch of breath, “feels-“

“good?” he finishes the thought for you with a particularly deep thrust, “I know, sweetheart, but it’ll get better.”

his thumb barely touches your clit and you tremble, arms clinging around his neck as you gasp and whine right into his ear. pretty little noises just for him as his free hand palms your breast, urging you closer and closer into him until you’re moaning into his mouth. from this angle his kisses are sloppy, swallowing up your keens as he finds the speed that has you writhing in his lap.

“yeah- keep doin’ that,” dick manages between kisses, spreading your legs wider as you twitch around him and you swear you hear him moan with you. “just like that, baby- fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

“dickie,” you whine, half outta your mind with pleasure, “‘m close- so close, please-“

“I know, sweets, give it to me-“ he pants with you, lips loosely catching yours just before he catches the perfect angle inside you, “cum for me, pretty girl, c’mon.“

your hips grind into his leg a few more times and you cry, holding dick close and practically crumbling in his grasp as you leak around his knuckles. dick talks you through what feels like a never ending orgasm and his hand fails to stop moving, mesmerized by what he’s pulled out of you, sticky fluids dripping into his palm as your pussy squelches around his fingers and you whine.

“dick, I- shit- I just-“

“I know, babe,” he confirms with a pleased grin, still holding you in his lap with the perfect view of your mess. “relax, remember? lemme try something.”

dick shuffles from beneath you until you’re sitting right on top of his cock, throbbing through flimsy pajamas while he works out a new angle. you’re dazed and a bit confused, still trembling in overstimulation until the coil swells into another rapidly approaching orgasm. he’s nudging at your g-spot over and over with more intensity, kissing at your shoulder while groping your tits and it has you damn near tears.

“you feel that, yeah?” he checks, “deep in your tummy? let it go, baby- let me see it.”

you can’t wrap your head around what he’s looking for, but you give it to him regardless- head hanging over his shoulder with a desperate whine and arching away from dick. distantly, you feel the fabric under you, soaked beyond what you thought normal as he trails off in praise over your moans. “goddamn, that was gorgeous- all for me, huh?” his fingers pump in and out a few more times as the high fades, then removing them to finally rest. “was I the first to see that?”

it takes a moment of recovery—deep and staggered breaths with a low whine before processing the mess. before processing that your best friend just made you fucking squirt.

“oh my god,“ you stumble over words, “i’m sorry, dick, I didn’t-“

“babe,” he cuts you off with the casual endearment again, “you’re telling me no one’s made you do that before?” his hand’s soiled with your slick and cum and he brings it to his mouth with no hesitation, letting you slide out of his lap as his tongue laps around his fingers.

“mm… no,” you mutter while ogling at the hard-on straining his ruined pajamas, “I didn’t… I didn’t even know I could do that,” and after a moment, the awkwardness finally seeps away when he laughs out of content with himself.

“y’think you could give me another?” he asks with no shame, kneeling between your legs with the intent of getting his proper fill. “it’ll be better with tongue, too- when you cum, I mean,” he corrects himself as if he gave away his shameful thirst, like you wouldn’t catch on. like you wouldn’t remember how your best friend’s so easily pussy whipped.

dick doesn’t even give you time to answer his question, though, pulling you to the edge of the couch and suckling on your clit as he locks your thighs around his head. you can tell from the groan that vibrates through you that he’s palming his cock through the fabric drenched in your fluids, and you can tell that he fully intends to pull another orgasm out of you all under the guise of ‘demonstrating’ for you.

“you’re shameless, dick grayson.”

“‘nd you taste good,” he mutters matter-of-factly, “I don’t see how you could blame me.” ❧

[bluerosefox]

Saying Sorry Will Never Be Enough

Feeling a bit angsty so I had this idea.

Danny is dating one of the Bats/Birds, and everything is going great, amazing even! They know each other secrets (from powers to everything etc), they have a wonderful place to live (even if its in Gotham), Danny is in college on the way to becoming a space engineer (and he does side jobs for unrestful ghosts), he's actually getting sleep again since leaving Amity Park, gets along with their friends and family (those who Danny or his partner still talk to, up to the writer), there is even talk about marriage and perhaps adoption/kids in the future between Danny and the Bat/Bird he's dating!

Everything is setting up for a good life in his future, something Danny didn't think could have after his accident. He was happy finally, and currently packing up his old apartment because he's moving in with his partner in a few days.

So he felt like his core was being pulled out of him when he opens his apartment door one day receiving a knock to find his parents, who had hadn't seen since they kicked him out of the house after coming clean about being Phantom (their words of anger and denial that their son was 'dead' and now a monster, still hurt)

Sure they didn't attack him or proclaim he's dead but still their last words and anger HURT.

Danny didn't give them a chance to open their mouths, both looking nervous and guilty, before he slams the door close and turns invisible, grabs his phone, and fly's out of his apartment to his partner's place in a panic attack.

His partner, isn't happy.

[ephemerensis]

Thinking about academic rival Tim that pisses you OFF. Being top of your class was nothing new for you until he rolled up. He’s absent for more than half the school year, always on TV at some stupid event to help kittens or something, excelling in track and field, and somehow STILL scoring higher than you. And he doesn’t even think it’s a big deal.

The worst part is probably that he sits behind you. Every red Kahoot screen felt so much louder with Tim breathing down your back, and if you dared to risk a glance back he’d just smile at you in annoying consolation. When your papers eventually get handed back he always knows what you got, but he has the nerve to ask in a charade of “being polite.”

“What’d you get?” He’s too nice when he says it, so sincere it feels condescending. You couldn’t lie if you wanted to, and it wouldn’t matter because you know you lost anyway.

“94.” Maybe if you said it more begrudgingly every time he’d get the hint and shut up. And even though you knew you wouldn’t win, you always asked anyways. “What’d you get?”

“Oh that’s good! I got a 98.”

He had to be cheating or something. You couldn’t count the number of times he’d asked you to explain something he missed in class, and somehow he still knew more. It wasn’t improbable, it was impossible. Sometimes you considered feeding him false information, but you felt bad even thinking it. Tim wasn’t a bad person. You were just in denial.

You knew of course, but were still offended, that your one-sided rivalry wasn’t ever his on his mind. Thinking of Wayne Enterprises’ next business venture (or stopping Gotham’s evil forces) occupied him in more depth. This stuff was just normal. So when you stay up extra late to perfect your physics exam and finally score higher than him, he doesn’t even flinch.

“Hey, a perfect score!”

“Yes, what did you get?”

“82 this time, I forgot a few equations.”

It was almost cathartic. That was enough for you. Peace doesn’t come easy, you’d choose it this time. (And quite frankly, there were only so many all nighters you could pull.)

“I won?”

“What?”

“I beat you, I won.”

“I guess so, you’ll have to tutor me next time!”

[jasmines-library]

Costly Gift

WHUMPTOBER DAY 7: prompt: Magic with a cost/only for emergencies

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Word count: 1.1k

warnings: Blood and injuries

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER 2024

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

One of the many things that made you special was your powers. There was no doubt about that. Your special ability that made you unique. The ability to heal others. It was a lifesaver when it came to your line of work. Being a vigilante was no easy task. Even a small job would leave the people involved battered and bruised, scraped and scarred. And you could heal them with a touch of a hand. 

But it came with a cost. 

Every time you healed a bruise, or made scarred skin smooth, you would absorb the injury yourself. And you would heal quicker. Sure. But they still hurt nonetheless. Sometimes you would end up with four or five times as many injuries compared to everyone else because you had swapped their pain out for yours. They didn’t know about this of course. You didn’t tell them because you didn’t want to seem weak. Because you knew that they would have shut you down the moment they realised that you were hurting yourself in order to help them. You didn't tell them because you wanted to do something useful. 

The night was busy. You were darting to and from your team, healing their wounds before darting off to help the next one. Your body would slowly heal itself as you moved, so the minor bruises would be gone within ten minutes or so. It wasn’t such gruelling work, and the wounds were only small. A cut here or a nasty sprain there. That was until you heard the shrill cry from across the rooftop and were dashing across it as fast as your feet could carry you. 

Damian was slumped awkwardly in Tim’s arms as he stumbled, blood pouring from the wound in his leg. He was struggling to stand, or put any weight on his injured leg at all so Tim had taken to awkwardly trying to support him. To their left lay the offending criminal, bloody knife still clutched in his hand from where he was sprawled out on the floor. Damian groaned in pain as his wound continued to seep with sticky blood. Tim pulled him away from the fighting, easing him to the ground. You skidded to your knees beside him and Tim looked at you worried. 

“He needs you.” He said desperately. You wasted no time taking his injured leg between your hands and channel your magic, feeling it sizzle through your veins and tingle in your fingertips before it began to stitch his skin closed. You felt the sting of the wound opening on your thigh almost instantly, but you did well to mask your pain. As soon as it was done, Damian thanked you and rushed off with Tim ready to continue the fight. When you stood, you took a moment to gain your bearings before taking an experimental step forwards. The wound was deep and hurt like a bitch. But you would have to make do. 

You gained a couple more nasty injuries during the fight. It was certainly one of the most brutal patrols you had seen in a while. You had gained a large cut that you had taken away from Dick which ran across your ribs, and a nastily sprained ankle from Tim. You had a definite limp that you struggled to hide as you made your way back to the cave. You felt faint, likely from the blood loss that was making your suit sticky. Your body was healing itself slowly, but the sheer amount of injuries just seemed like too much for your body to handle at once.

You stumbled on your feet as you clambered out of the batmobile, moving as quickly as you could so that you could get away from your team. You couldn't wait to just collapse on your bed. You were so exhausted and all of your energy was being focused on hiding your secret. But your suffering didn’t go unnoticed by your team. Tim frowned as he watched you hobble away. He had keen, observant eyes and he noticed your limp almost instantly. 

“You alright?” He asked, catching up to you quickly. “You’re limping.”

“Oh….yeah.” You lied quickly, trying to hide the strain in your voice. “There's a stone in my shoe.”

“Bullshit” Tim said, calling you out though he was clearly very worried about you. He was watching the way sweat broke out on your forehead, and it seemed like you were struggling to remember how to put one foot in front of the other. “I think you need to sit down….”

“I’m fine.” you choked out. But your legs failed you, and you wavered on your feet. 

Tim placed a hand on your arm to steady you. “Woah. Woah–” he lead you over to the chairs, worried that you were going to pass out.

“What’s going on?” Jason, who had rushed over, asked. 

“Something is wrong.” Tim said. But you hardly heard him. You were too focused on not passing out. 

There was a tap on the side of your face. “Hey. did you hear me?”

You blinked. “Hm…?

“I said, are you hurt?” Jason repeated his question.

“I don’t get hurt.” You mumbled. You didn’t know it, but there was a slight slur to your words. The two boys shared a glance. 

“Where is it?” Jason questioned you, giving you a close once over before he found the blood seeping into your suit. He cut the fabric away quickly, revealing the cut on your leg. Tim frowned. It looked awfully familiar….

“Is that…..is that Damian’s wound…?” He said, looking at the healing flesh. 

Jason then found the one on your ribs. “Dick was hurt here too….” he muttered. 

You made some sort of noise of acknowledgement. And then Tim clocked it…

“Kid….when you heal our wounds…..do they transfer to you instead.”

You had answered before you even realised you were telling them something you had told yourself you wouldn't. “mmhm…yeah .”

The four of them were instantly hit with a sense of guilt and fear. How many times had they hurt you?

“All of them….?” Damian swallowed

“...uh-huh…it's okay though…”you said, watching your skin knit itself back together “i heal fast…”

“Oh sweetheart….its not okay. You’ve been hurting yourself to help us and we had no idea. We’ve been asking you to heal all sorts…..”

“I don’t mind….. Im being useful. Helping. Its the only thing that makes me useful to the team.”

Dick frowned deeply at that, smoothing a hand over your hair. “Oh sweetness, you're a valued part of the team. Powers or not we need you.”

“You do?”

“Of course we do, kid. You’re one of the best fighters we've got.”

You smiled a little, a warm sense of validation swelled inside you. “Oh…”

“Now how about we see about getting that patched up, hm? And I don’t want any of that ‘i can heal on my own’ crap, okay?  Let us heal you for once.”

<- DAY SIX ⛤ DAY EIGHT ->

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

TAGS:

@hearts4robs @kingshitonly @alicedawitchbish @hell-o-kittys @azure-drag0ness @harleycao @thewhispersofthewaves @batfamsstuff @xxrougefangxx @rosecentury @noisymutantherelol l @killxz @rhiodes @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @canthavetoomuchchaos

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

[miguel-owhora]

omega!batman's the type of guy to capture your attention by letting his pheromones linger in the air, the enticing scent of an omega in near heat making your legs move before you can think.

just to end up in an alley with the darkly cladded hero in the back, with the bottom half of his gear removed. his pussy—plumped and framed by neatly trimmed pubic hair—is soaking wet with his slick, his pretty cock—small yet still noticable—poking out with interest.

naturally, being quiet is in his nature. but the relief he gets with your cock thrusting in and out of his burning cunt even has him being louder than usual. of course in this case, being louder than usual means he's quietly grunting and biting his lips. he has to bite down on his fist when he ends up squirting—fuck, he didn't even know he could do that—around your knot when it catches on his hole.

[totallynotashieldagent]

the one where bruce is too rich to understand vegas weddings

Dick: So how was the trip? Bruce: Decent enough. Designs got through. Made appearances and- Y/N: Oh and we had the funnest little pretend wedding! Jason (choking on his drink): What??? Bruce: Oh, yes! It was quaint. They even had a little Elvis impersonator and everything. Stephanie: Uhh... B. Those aren't fake. Bruce: Of course, they are! Who would actually get married like that? So pedestrian. Y/N: It was such a fun party-trick. Alfred: Master Bruce, did you get wed without me? I diapered your bottom and- Damian: Father, how could you?! Duke: Jeez, B- You really got married, huh? Bruce: It wasn't a real wedding! Y/N: Who gets married like that?! Cass pointing to Tim, who is holding Bruce's very real wedding licence. Bruce and Y/N: Oh-

[lycheeloving]

more fake texts :)

Dad to the rescue!

[sophiethewitch1]

I wonder how the batboys would be with a reader with a MAJOR interest in foreign languages. I'm not just talking about knowing several languages, I'm talking about a reader who's also capable of using the basics of so many languages that people don't really tend to learn or even know exist (can you imagine casually speaking Burmese or Catalan in front of the boys??), and they know how to read numerous writing systems. Imagine if the Reader's room is just full of language textbooks and their phone is full of language apps

They'd be incredibly impressed, of course. They all know their fair share of languages, considering their job/hobby/personal exercise routine, but the level of effort and care you put in is astounding.

Tim, despite himself, immediately gets competitive about it. He needs to be on the same level as you, and understand you in all ways. And if you love something as much as you love languages, he needs to love it the same way too. So, get ready for quizzes and competitions galore. He probably adds you on Duolingo, even if you didn't give him your contact details, the little stalker. He wants to win (you).

Dick's absolutely over the moon if you decide to research his family's preferred dialect of Romani. He'll happily teach you and you'll have many quiet, whispered conversations together. The language is quite romantic (it is actually a romance language), just like he is, and he probably starts flirting with you all the time in Romani. Just, constantly hitting on you, but in a way only you can understand, so he doesn't get too embarrassed. Flirt back using his mother tongue, and you'll have a swooning Dick Grayson on your hands.

Damian sees this as a grand opportunity to invite you closer into his space. His family has connections in all of the Middle East and further, and he's got access to thousands of ancient documents in hundreds of languages. Is very smug every time you ask him for his help or a book you think he might have. Which, of course, he does. Even if he doesn't he'll have it soon, so don't go asking the others, alright?

Jason 'number one Shakespeare fan' Todd suggests you start learning some old English with him. And like actual old English, not early modern English like Shakespeare actually used. Enjoys reading classic Russian novels like Dostoevsky in the original text to you. Will also quiz you, but in a chill, uncompetitive way.

[eyeheartboobiez]

-> 𝗃𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈𝖽𝖽 𝗑 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

-> 𝗌𝗈𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅 𝗆𝖾𝖽𝗂𝖺 𝖺𝗎!

-> 𝖺/𝗇: 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 5 𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾!! 𝗂 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝗆𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝖻𝗋𝗎𝖼𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝖼. 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗎 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒🫶🏿

liked by cass.cain, rred_hood, and 4,105,018 others

@y/nforeal: GUESS WHO JUST WON A GRAMMY!!! fr tho i couldn't be more thankful for how far i've come as not only an artist, but an individual. now that award szn is over, imma take some time off from making music, because these next few months are gonna be busyyy.

again, thank you to all my friends and everyone who's stuck by my side through everything. i love yall🥹🫶 #grammys2023

View all 15,675 comments

user1: WE LOVE U TOO QUEEN

user2: what does she mean by busy tho??

⤷ user3: fr like is there a baby on the way or sumn💀

cass.cain: SO HAPPY FOR U BABES !!

⤷ y/nforeal: THX GIRLIE😘

⤷ user4: idc how delusional i look i still ship it🤷‍♀️

user5: been a fan since day one, couldn't be more proud🥹

user6: not jason liking her post...

⤷ y/nforeal: right like im confused too

⤷ user7: LMAOO she so real😭

Grammy winner Y/N Y/LN going to court?! From ruined careers to ruined relationships, here's the rundown that led to all this. (1/10/2023 11:54 AM PT)

Since August of last year, fans have been talking nonstop about the leaked track that's been trending all over the internet. With its romantic lyrics and suggestive imagery, the song — Fantasize — made its debut surprising not only the listeners, but the artist as well.

Renowned singer Y/N Y/LN was more shocked than anyone to find that one of her unreleased songs had been spread around online. Even moreso, when the culprit behind the act was none other than rival singer, Artemis Grace.

Which begs the question: Why would Artemis care to leak Y/N'S music?

Well last summer, her ex boyfriend Jason Todd was alleged to have been in an intimate relationship with the grammy winner. Ever since paparazzi caught the two kissing outside of Y/N's Malibu home, they’ve been rumored to have been seeing each other in private.

Supporters of the singer were more than ecstatic to see the two together, and were happy to see that both stars were getting their well deserved happy ending.

Especially Jason, who had spoken up in past interviews about his ex’s abusive behavior. Stating that the redhead was “more than controlling” throughout their relationship.

Unfortunately the so-called Fantasy was short lived, when the gothamite was seen outside of a nightclub with the toxic ex. Once the news broke headlines, while fans were more than devastated, they were just as quick to come to Y/N's defence.

Regardless of the heartache, many speculate that Y/N may have used Cassandra, Jason's sister, as a bit of a rebound! In fact, the tension between the two was more than noticeable in the interview they did together with Glamour.

As usual, fans jumped to the conclusion that their collaboration is what drove Jason to like Y/N's most recent post on instagram (an action that even she was skeptical about).

Back to the present, it seems that the redhead was also caught red handed. After TMZ investigators revealed Artemis as the culprit of the crime, Y/N made the smart decision to press charges.

On account of copyright infringement, as well as causing emotional distress, the offender had been served an official notice of the legal proceedings being taken against her.

However, because she failed to appear before the judge last week, Artemis was forcibly taken in by the authorities just this morning. The embarrassing encounter with law enforcement was seen by many in the area, and spectators did not hesitate to record the interaction and post it online.

Despite all the drama, fans are overjoyed to see the ex finally being held accountable for her behavior. And who knows, maybe the tragic story between star crossed lovers will get its happy ending after all!

end notes: so what do we think, yay or nay?

taglist: @din0o0o @cipheress-to-k-pop @bonnie-tz @phatnyash420

[fluffy-anna]

Made another one. All hail the Richard Grayson aka Nightwing wallpaper.

He may be a man but he's the best eldest daughter I know.

I literally love this man but he gets screwed over so many times that I kind of find it funny.

I will make more.

[satyricplotter]

The motorcycle roars for all of two seconds before the engine splutters to a halt, silky rumbling replaced for pitiful heaving. His groaning is funny to watch, even more so when he knocks into his tool case and said tools go flying out. Jason lets out a long chain of expletives as he bends down to pick them up, and you have to hide a smile before you approach.

You roll your eyes and go help. "Gosh, you're so crass."

"Me?" He asks incredulously, eyes flicking at you when you crouch in front of him. "Your favourite noun is motherfucker. I don't think you got any ground to stand on."

"I can say that because I'm tiny and adorable, and nobody cares. Meanwhile, you're 6'4'', built like a brick shithouse and your eyes glow in the dark. People shit themselves when you call them bitch."

Jason pauses, his (admittedly strong and rugged and dirty) hands resting on the case. He gives you a long, assessing look, as though he's trying to ascertain something. Then he breaks into a smirk and continues picking up his shit.

"I'll give you short. I'll even give you adorable," he mocks, and you narrow your eyes at him. He's about to pull some bullshit—"but don't you think tiny is pushing it?"

Bastard.

You level him with a flat look. "Did you just call me fat?"

Jason shrugs simply. "Aren't you?"

"You're such a fucking asshole," you sneer, leaning forward to rap your knuckles against his forehead.

Jason catches your wrists before you can make contact, pulling you forward so that you stumble and shriek your way right onto... his lap. Of course. He leans back with a shit-eating grin, one hand keeping your wrists together, the other smearing car oil on the waistband of your trousers. That same hand slides down to cup the curve of your hip and over your ass. He squeezes, the warmth of his hand seeping through the thin fabric, and rests it there. His long fingers carefully cradle your cheek, curious and impatient. Their placement—the proximity—is in itself an exhilarating suggestion. A promise.

"Never said it wasn't hot," he says, a little roughly.

You huff, flattered despite yourself. The toolbox is turned on its side, everything scattered back on the floor. You seize that tiny fact in an attempt to regain your composure. "I'm not picking that up."

Jason smiles, lips hovering right above yours. When he speaks, you feel it against you. "Neither am I."

[purple-obsidian]

Heyyyyy pookieeee-i saw your Jason todd fic and wanted to ask,what do you think he will be like teaching his gf how to drive?

(Because nobody in my freaking life taught me how to drive yet so I have to sit like a duck and wait for someone to pick me up when I wanna go somewhere pleaseeee let me drivee-)

be brave (jason todd x fem reader) wc 800

⭓ fluff isn't my normal cup of tea. but for you, pookie, i can make an exception ;) sorry this took a while to answer, hope you don't mind i made this specific to driving a motorcycle. that's just what felt right when i was meditating on this prompt so i went with it. enjoy.

"Jason, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"You second guessing me, princess?"

"Yeah, maybe I am. I could kill us!"

Jason scoffs and shakes his head in disbelief. "You think I would let that happen? Ever?" With cocky grin, Jason walks over and stares down at you, noting the apprehension on your face. "Remember the day we met? You told me you had a bucket list. Things you wanted to do before you died."

"Yeah, I only told you that because I thought I was going to die. You rescued me. I got plenty of time now, I don't have to learn how to drive tonight. Its already dark." You reach your hand up reflexively to rest against his chest as he gets closer. Its a habit of yours. You always find yourself drawn to the steady beating of his heart. Its grounding, and you need some of that right now.

"The road is well lit. We're miles from the outskirts of Gotham, no traffic out here. Just you and me, baby. Why not now?" His large hand rests over yours, pressing it more firmly against his chest. His heart is beating slow and steady, and his piercing green eyes are filled with admiration. "You and I both know that every day we have together is precious. Why wait to do the things you wanna do? Besides, I'd feel better knowing my girl can drive my bike if she needs to."

Jason knows you too well, calling you his girl like that makes you feel weak in the knees. Your own heart beats faster as you break your gaze away from your boyfriend smiling down at you, looking over at the motorcycle he brought you here on. For some reason, it looks more intimidating than it did a few minutes ago. You swallow the lump in your throat before looking back at him. "I'm nervous."

"I know." He states matter-of-factly. Of course he knows, he can read you like a book.

"I've literally never driven anything before. Like ever. I haven't even-"

"Shhh." Jason's hand leaves yours and cups your face gently. His other hand is on your waist, keeping you close. "You don't have to be good at it right away. I don't expect you to be. But you're smart. And you're perceptive. And I know after a little practice, you'll get more confident. I won't let us crash, baby, promise."

Jason really does know you too well. He can see the rebuttal forming on your lips before he finishes speaking. So he leans down to kiss it away before you can verbally express your doubts. The tinge of frustration you feel at being cut off isn't enough to keep you mind from turning to mush from the kiss. His lips are so warm, his breath tastes like spearmint, and his touch gives you butterflies.

But the kiss ends all too quickly. You know he cut it short it on purpose, not wanting your brain to turn off completely before you try and drive for the first time. "Sorry, babygirl, can't give you too much. How could you drive if you're all drunk from my kisses? Hm?"

He runs his fingers through your hair, taking in how cute you look when you're speechless. A moment later, Jason releases his hold on you and turns towards his bike, walking to it with a bit of pep in his step and smugness in his grin, leaving you stammering for a second as you try and string together a coherent thought.

"F-fuck you, Jason." You say after a moment. He always knows how to shut me up.

"I love you too." He grabs his helmet and puts it on before tossing you yours. It's an easy catch, but you're still giving him a dirty look.

"Why did we have to do driving first?" You grumble, accepting your defeat. "Pretty sure seeing the pyramids was also on my bucket list. Along with an abundance of other fun things, like riding in a helicopter, or swimming with dolphins. Or what about joining the mile high club? I'd think that one would be your first priority."

Jason is beaming, watching you put your helmet on and get ready to ride. Even as you scowl at him and mutter complaints, his heart melts at how easily you folded. All it took was a kiss. He always gets his way. He knows you can't say no to him. Jason Todd has you wrapped around his finger, and the vigilante couldn't be any happier about it. He looks you up and down to admire your body before replying, "Stick with me, princess, and I'll make all your dreams come true." He promises. "One at a time. I'll show you the pyramids. I'll fuck you in a plane. But first…"

He grabs you by your waist with both hands and effortlessly lifts you up off the ground to set you down on the seat of his bike. You yelp in surprise, quickly grabbing his hands to steady yourself. "First, you gotta be brave and learn how to ride your boyfriend's bike."

⭓ masterlist ⭓

[padsmoony04]

Quick little and silly thought that it might not be everyone's cup of tea (so if you don't agree and don't like it please don't kill me) I think Nicholas Galitzine could be the right call to have someone play Jason Todd on a movie. Like, I think he has kinda the features of what Jason would look like older in his 20s , and Nicholas has prove to have a very good acting skills and to be very good with very emotional and troubled characters, so he would do justice to my angsty boy.

Like, idk, he just gives the vibe that he could really do a good job.

[auroreliis]

Hey! I loved your Batfam movie night post. If you have the time could you write a fic with the platonic yandere Batfam and a sick reader. Maybe reader refuses to take any medication and the fam has to get them to take it. Or maybe reader is so fevered that they sob when someone (probably Bruce) isn’t holding them. Thanks for your time!!

Platonic Yandere!Batfam

Summary: You're sick

CW: no warnings

(not edited or proofread)

Richard let out an exasperated breath as he paced around in front of your bedroom door.

"Why do they have to be so difficult?", he mumbled under his breath, not intending for it to be heard, but Bruce made out what he said.

Silence filled the room for a few moments, the only noise being Dick's footsteps, before Bruce spoke, "I'll ground them", he begun, before adding, "And I'll take away their phone."

Richard stopped and turned to him, his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw hanging low, signaling disbelief.

"Are you kidding me? What exactly will that change? Just force them to take the medicine already!", fumed the younger of the two, clearly worried about you.

"No", said Bruce and Richard slightly leaned forward, as if he misheard.

"No? Why not? Don't you understand that they're sick? They're pale, trembling, weak and-"

"Stop", Bruce's words concluded the argument, "You'll wake them if you continue shouting."

Richard flinched. He couldn't help it.

His heart ached at the thought of you being in pain. It was even worse now that you had refused to take your medicine.

As your older brother, it's his job to protect you, but you're being so difficult.

Although he wanted to continue the argument in hopes of changine Bruce's mind, it was clear that they were done.

His jaw clenched to stop himself from saying anything stupid and with that he stormed off.

Bruce let out a sigh and leaned on a nearby wall. He was so tired. His energy was completely depleted from his worry.

Worry? No, it was more like fear.

Bruce was terrified. You were sick and had refused to take your medicine. He knows how serious certain illnesses can be, but you just refuse to take care of yourself.

You're doing nothing other than proving them right that you need them.

However, he's your father. He would never force you to take medicine. Deep down, he feels like he owes you at least a little freedom of choice, considering that you didn't want to be there in the first place.

His palm drags across his face, not fearing that he'll scratch his skin off, instead ruminating on his further course of action.

A cough made his eyes widen. It was your voice.

He rushed into your room and for a moment you were convinced he was going to trip.

"Is everything okay?", his voice was slightly shaky, as if he were trying to hide how scared he was for you. Going off how swiftly he shut his mouth, one would assume that he had planned to add more questions.

You wanted to nod your head, but lacked the strengh to do that, so you chose to hum in affirmation.

With blurred vision, you saw your father slightly bend forward, presumably after exhaling.

"Can you...", you wheezed, before realising that you lacked the lung capacity to go on.

Your father, however, wanted to hear the rest of your sentence.

"I can. I can do anything you want me to. What do you need? Would you like some water? Should Alfred make you some more soup? Would you like me to read you a story? Should I-", he went through all of his options, carefully observing your body language to see if any of his suggestions piqued your interest.

"...Hold me, please", you finally finished.

His gaze softened and his mouth formed a relieved smile as he exhaled. It took him time to answer, "Of course I can."

So you were alright. That was soothing.

His arms held you tightly, still being careful not to hurt you. The two of you layed there in silence.

Patience slowly ran out and before he could stop himself, he questioned you about the medicine.

His tone was gentle and as quiet as he could make it, almost sounding desperate.

You thought about it for a moment, trying to find the shortest way to confess your thoughts.

"Taste...", you croaked.

"Taste? Does it taste bad?", Bruce inquired, before remembering that you had troubles speaking, "I'll make sure you get some better tasting medicine. Will you take it then?"

You smiled and nodded, satisfied with the current arrangement.

No longer being able to stay awake, you drifted off to sleep.

It had been a few days now. Your condition had improved and you were taking the better tasting version of the medicine.

Today it was Dick's turn to feed you.

He was in a much better mood than a few days ago.

"Here comes the airplane- Come on, open up...", the spoon hovered in front of your closed mouth.

Your eyebrows lifted as you looked at him.

"Dick, I'm not thre-", before you could finish, he shoved the spoon into your mouth, causing you to gag.

While you did cough up half of the soup, the rest definitely made it to the intended destination.

After forcing out a few more coughs, you had finally cleared your windpipe, "WHAT THE HELL, DICK?"

"Sorry! Just had to make sure you would actually take it, unlike the medicine!", his innocent smile almost blinded you.

"What if I had choked?" you retorted

"You know that your big brother wouldn't let that happen", he dismissed your words with caretaker speech.

Your temptation to add a snarky remark or roll your eyes was supressed and you instead continued listenting to your brother boast about various topics which you didn't really pay attention to.

The two of you continued to enjoy spending time with each other, if you could call it that.

Under Dick's and Bruce's care, you always recover quickly.

[devilfic]

Reading right place, right time and found myself kicking my feet and twirling my hair at the thought of Bruce writing about the surgeon in his diary after their first encounter . 🥺😂 (Sorry, I’m being silly) 😭 but I really do wonder what he wrote. Would he have added any personal thoughts of his own or keep it about his routine? 🤔 sorry for this weird message. I love your writing 💕

this is not weird at ALL. I've been itching to talk about this! unlike in where two are joined, I'm trying not to tell any of it from bruce's perspective so that the reader can be immersed in their own pov. therefore,,, this gives me an excuse :)

when bruce gets home, he is not thinking about his diary.

in an uncharacteristic turn of events, he puts his body first and passes out on the couch in the terminus. he gets about an hour or two of sleep, something he deprived himself of in your apartment out of fear of letting down his guard.

he sort of jolts awake after that second hour, thinking that he had fallen asleep in your home. his chest heaves as he gathers his surroundings, registers the pain in his side, unaware of the hour. it takes him a few minutes to collect himself and then he's pulling off his suit piece by piece, assessing the damage at his desk. to his surprise, your stitches have held together pretty well. he pops a few main meds and pulls out his journal.

Wednesday, November 16th.

I made a miscalculation with the smugglers. The weapons they're moving are military grade, and from the communications I was able to intercept, they've got several buyers I can't afford to let get their hands on these guns.

I managed to put a dent in their inventory tonight, but for every shipment I hit, there are two more I miss. I can't be everywhere at once, which means I can't afford to lose momentum. I can't let up.

I sustained injuries from tonight including one gunshot wound. I was able to remove the bullet once I found somewhere safe to retreat, but the wound was worse than I anticipated and I struggled to keep the bleeding at bay. I made another mistake and intended on finding a place to rest—a nearby apartment I assumed to be empty—where I could at least stop the bleeding and send Alfred my location. But someone was there. Before I could escape, I passed out from the blood loss.

I must've been out for a few minutes. This stranger could have unmasked me, and I'm still not entirely sure they hadn't. Regardless, they were a doctor. They managed to stitch me up, and after some convincing, I rested in their apartment for the next three hours. I had no intention to, but I'm certain I wouldn't be writing this now if I hadn't done so. If it wasn't for them, I would be

I was desperate. I realize that now. I put myself and potentially someone else in danger. Someone who chose to help me. Their intentions seemed innocent, but I need to know for sure. I can't make any more mistakes. I won't.

after that, I think bruce just throws himself into researching you. he starts with gotham general, looks for all the surgeons, eventually finds your name, and he falls down this hole of finding out whatever he can about you: your age, where you went to school, your relatives and past jobs. he wants to know that this freak twist of fate was just that: a twist, an abnormality.

alfred finds him like that, ready to retrieve him for the tour (which bruce definitely forgot about). he's about to make a comment like "you're up early" and then he sees gauze taped to bruce's side and god, if alfred doesn't have steam blowing out of his ears by the time he's done yelling at him.

and later, when he's standing in front of you as bruce wayne, he's caught off guard again because what are the odds that you could save his life as some freak twist of fate once, only to have him run into you again not hours later?

and you're... whip-smart. kind. he hears you talk about the work you do and he can see how much you care about the people of this city. it's not in his nature to trust easily but when he gets home later that day he is poring into everything he can about you, searching for the chink in your armor. there must be something. maybe he's missed it or you're good at hiding but all of this feels too good to be true.

it takes him a few days after he finds your file for him to think it over. the stitches have held up. he's replacing his gauze in the bathroom and asks alfred if he thinks it's the right call.

"are you certain there's no one else?"

"a vigilante doctor?" bruce laughs, stretching his spine. "how would I take applications for that, exactly?"

"they're a civilian."

"they saved my life."

alfred holds his tongue, nearly chokes on it, "you must be prepared for this not to work out. or worse. you may never pick up that cowl again."

bruce stares at his hands, scarred from his long nights. he doesn't remember much after passing out, only the split second of finality and the regret that followed... until you brought him back, "I've already made peace with that."