#i think Tim would be perfect for the job

[thebibliosphere]

I was just playing gotham knights again and noticed some passive dialog regarding Babs having a back brace, which is at least acknowledging that there was damage done, but I'm a little sad for the loss of some really cool disability representation. What are your feelings on her (and on a similar note Batman's) miraculous recovery from paralysis in DC?

I think Gotham Knights handled her disability fairly well, considering this is a universe where magic, nanobots, and puddles of evil green goo that can heal the dead exist. All things considered, it would have been very easy for them to either erase it entirely or just handwave and say, "She worked really hard and got better," as previous iterations of the canon have done.

Because she did work hard and get better, but the hard work is ongoing because they depict her issues as chronic.

She's got a limp (it's the most obvious in her Talon suit with no cape in the way), which means she can't rely on speed or high kicks like the others can (I mean, she can kick, but it's her slowest motion, and until you max out her suit, it's the most liable to get her thrown to the ground), so she falls back on precision and her tech.

Jason punches for maximum pain, Dick moves with dizzying speed, and Tim's gonna sneak up on you and drop you like a rock, but Babs is going for the pressure points with ruthless precision. Not to mention her drones.

The conversation with Tim, realizing she might need help boosting her suit to compensate for her pain/strength issues, is a nice little way of making the player aware that she's got these ongoing problems because, honestly, a casual observer could mistake her back brace for athleisure wear if they didn't recognize the shape of it. It's also a good way of throwing in some exposition about how she's still going to physical rehab and that her PT would like her to "wean off" her back brace, but because her PT doesn't know her actual job as a vigilante, Barbara admits she can't and is essentially finding ways to manage her own care and create her own accommodations. Accommodations which they are all shown to be willing to help with.

It's a nice little touch when superhero narratives tend to revolve around self-sacrifice to the point of self-destruction. Alfred giving Dick into trouble for pushing himself too far and hiding injuries is a nice touch, too, even if it's like trying to bail water on the Titanic with a teacup.

I also like that not only do you see her wheelchair lurking around the Belfry—along with the disability adaptations they put in place, like the ramps, the wheelchair elevator, and the desks that move up and down to wheelchair height—but that she also still uses her chair from time to time.

[ID a screenshot from Gotham Knights showing the Belfry. Light streams in through a giant clockface, showcasing a bank of computer screens. In front of the screen, Barbara Gordon is using her wheelchair as Dick Grayson stands behind her, probably making a bad pun.]

Whether she's using it because she's tired or simply because it's more comfortable than the computer chair is never revealed. Nor is it brought up or commented on. It's just something that's normal for Barbara to do, and I like that. I like that it's normal. It's not a part of herself she's trying to erase. She works with it, not against it.

Is it perfect? No. Do they outright erase her disability like so many of the comics are guilty of? Also, no. I'd argue that, in fact, they kept her disability. They just changed the nature of it.

Barbara now has a dynamic disability, one which fluctuates and requires different management based on her day-to-day (or night) activity. She's in active treatment for it and will be for the rest of her life. Are some of the physical feats she achieves realistic for someone with an injury of her nature? Not really, but again, this is a world where nobody stays dead, and there are zombie assassins coming out of the walls. I'll take the attention to detail and care they put into her story any day over the "Willpower Fixed My Spine" narrative we could have gotten.

As for Bruce getting healed by magic, again, it's Batman. Comic book logic is wibbly-wobbly at the best of times, and realistically speaking, they couldn't leave Batman paralyzed. His whole deal revolves around being stealthy and punching the shit out of people. He wouldn't be Batman anymore, and frankly, I don't trust the comic writers as far as I could throw them to handle that right.

By contrast, the Gotham Knights writers handled Barbara with much more care and nuance than I ever expected. And I'm thankful for that.

---

*I also like that both Dick and Barbara are often shown wearing joint braces. Dick's are especially reminiscent of the way gymnasts and people with hypermobility tape their joints to reduce pain and prevent injuries. It's a nice little touch. They're not invincible. Their bodies hurt. They're just like me but with money and much bigger problems like giant killer robots and zombie assassins.

[flwrkid14]

Why Tim Drake Sees the Bats as Co-Workers and Not Family (Tim Drake is a Fenton)

aka a follow up to this post, on why tim calls the bats coworkers because I think it's the funniest thing ever

It’s not that Tim hates the batfam. If anything, he has a grudging respect for them. They’ve saved his life (and Gotham’s) more times than he can count. But to Tim, that doesn���t make them family.

Here’s the thing: Tim already has a family.

Growing up as a Fenton, Tim knew what family meant. Jazz was the protective big sister who made sure he ate, slept, and survived middle school. Danny was the chaotic younger brother who still cared enough to make sure Tim didn’t feel overshadowed. Even his parents, as wildly eccentric as they were, loved him with the kind of unapologetic enthusiasm only Jack and Maddie Fenton could pull off.

Sure, they weren’t perfect. They panicked after Danny’s death-and-rebirth-as-a-ghostly-superhero and left Tim with Aunt Janet Drake, thinking they were protecting him. But they called. They checked in. And once they realized how bad things were with the Drakes, they worked to make amends.

Tim never stopped being a Fenton, no matter how far Gotham took him from Amity Park.

So when Bruce Wayne swept in with promises of training, teamwork, and trust, Tim didn’t see a new family. He saw an opportunity.

————

The Batfamily Dynamics:

The Batfamily operates on trauma and duty. Everyone has scars, and everyone has a mission. That’s how Bruce connects with people—through the shared pain of loss and the relentless drive to make Gotham better.

But Tim’s mission was never born out of personal tragedy. He didn’t lose his parents to crime or see Gotham as something he had to save. He joined because someone had to. Batman was falling apart after Jason died, and Gotham was suffering for it. Tim stepped up because it was the right thing to do—not because he wanted to fill some emotional void.

And that’s where the disconnect lies.

For Bruce, Dick, Jason, Damian, and even Cass, Barbara and Steph, being part of the bats means finding family again. It’s their way of healing. But for Tim, it feels like replacing the family he already has.

————

Tim’s Perspective:

To Tim, the batfamily is a job. A very dangerous, very complicated job, but a job nonetheless.

Bruce isn’t his father. Dick isn’t his brother. Jason isn’t his big-brother-who-died-and-came-back (that spot was already taken by Danny). They’re teammates, coworkers, and maybe even friends. But family? No.

Because family is Jazz sneaking him snacks during his stakeouts. Family is Danny sending sarcastic texts about “ghost-proofing” the Batcave. Family is Jack and Maddie trying (and failing) to make sense of his vigilante life while showing up with enough ectoplasm-based cookies to fuel an army.

Family is messy, chaotic, and full of love.

And while the batfamily might be chaotic, the love feels conditional—wrapped up in the mission, the masks, and the unspoken rule that Gotham always comes first.

————

Why Tim Doesn’t Want a Second Family:

And then there’s the second layer—the one Tim doesn’t say out loud.

To Tim, having a second family feels like betraying the one he already has. Like admitting that Jazz, Danny, and the parents who tried so hard to fix their mistakes weren’t enough. And they are enough.

Tim doesn’t need another family. He doesn’t want another family. The Fentons are imperfect, but they’re his. If he started thinking of the batfamily as his own, it would feel like he was erasing the people who already mean everything to him.

It would also make losing them hurt more.

The batfamily’s world is dangerous. Gotham is dangerous. And if Tim ever let himself think of them as his family—as more than coworkers or teammates—it would make every death, every injury, and every failure cut that much deeper.

Tim’s already had to grieve once, when Danny died. He barely survived it. He doesn’t think he could go through that again, especially not in a world where loss is inevitable. Keeping the bats at arm’s length is self-preservation as much as loyalty to the Fentons.

————

Does It Hurt the Bats?

Absolutely.

Dick wants so badly to be Tim’s big brother. Jason finds it hilarious, but even he bristles at being labeled a coworker. Damian sees it as a betrayal of loyalty. And Bruce—well, Bruce doesn’t say much, but the tight line of his mouth speaks volumes. Tim doesn't even want to think about how Cass probably already knew, and how much it had still hurt her nonetheless.

But Tim doesn’t change his stance. Because at the end of the day, the bats aren't his family. They’re his team, his coworkers, and maybe even his friends.

And that’s enough.

[justsomestuffreally]

I think the Batkids reaction to a Bruce who isn't de-aged to 8 but rather 29 (pre-Jason death, post his adoption) would be fascinating. 

Their reaction would vary wildly:

Dick: Oh. Bruce is soft again. Bruce calls them ‘chum’ and ‘buddy’ and gives head pats for no reason. He still isn’t perfect, his communication skills are still a work in progress, but compared to his future self? Without actively dying Dick is hugged plenty. Bruce asks him to go to the zoo, unrelated to any case, just to spend time together. Dick is hit with more nostalgia and longing for the past than he knows what to do with.

Also notable: his dad is younger than him. That is something. Second, holy existential crisis Batman, his dad is younger than him and already one adult and one teenage kid??? Dick is not ready to feel this old yet. Third, Dick has absolutely no idea how Bruce managed to stay patient through his no-pants years. He is going to thank reason every day from now on that Damian wears full protection.

Jason: After his death and League he clung to an image of Bruce. One many tried to beat out of him, but he still kept it somewhere close to his heart, buried deep enough even he couldn’t see it. When he came back Bruce wasn’t like this idea of him. How stupid of him to believe the mind of a traumatized kid. Trying to create one good thing before the kid drew his last breath. Making up memories that never even existed.

But they did. Every smile and hug and even his words reflect the image tugged safely against his still-beating heart. His dad very clearly, very deeply loves him. Which is so much worse. Because he can understand why a Bruce, who never cared, didn’t kill the Joker. But he cares. So why the fuck did he not kill the Joker?

Tim: The reason he joined the family, the reason why he became Robin in the first place was because he saw a problem when Bruce started self-destructing and thought ‘Someone needs to fix that!’. Therefore he went and collected Dick, who didn’t seem keen on fixing it. So, the job fell to him to fix it.

He thought he did a good job, he thought he fixed the problem. Except now he sees who Bruce was, and he knows he failed. Their Bruce is less soft, less affectionate, less like he was before. Batman needs a Robin and Tim didn’t manage to be good enough of one to save him. 

[Or: Tim has a guilt complex a hundred miles wide and blames himself for things that aren’t his fault part 52]

Steph: Jason and she are very similar. Both come from the Narrows, both have a mother addicted to drugs and a shitty father. The differences start when Steph keeps waiting on the roof of their apartment for Batman to whisk her away, while Jason tries to steal the tires of the Batmobile and is taken in.

When Steph started out as Spoiler Bruce tried to keep her off the field, and obviously this one would too (even if he would probably be less paranoid about it), but she knows this Bruce would have also taken her in. This Bruce would be the father she always wished for when she sat on their roof and couldn’t see any stars. 

And she didn’t get to have this because Jason went ahead and died. (Of course, she knows she isn’t fair to the guy. Dying isn’t fun… And she knows the only reason she lived is because he died. When Batman rescued her from Black Mask she was in such terrible shape that Leslie managed to convince the World’s Greatest Detective that she died. If Jason hadn’t died Bruce wouldn’t have been as paranoid, wouldn’t have noticed her missing so soon, wouldn’t have been as urgent in his response. Would have been just a minute slower, a minute which would have killed her. Just as it had Jason.)

For her, this Bruce is a distorted mirror into a past which never was. 

Cass: This Bruce and B are not the same person. They don’t move the same. In a fight, this Bruce is younger, faster, stronger. Doesn’t compensate for a previously broken spine. Less experienced. Still one of the most experienced she knows, but less. 

He still moves differently, outside a fight, less pain. More likely to engage in physical affection, more likely to hug and pat and talk. He talks more than B. B knows what she means without words. This Bruce doesn’t.

She likes this Bruce, warmth, and softness. But not as much as B. He knows what she means, when she wants a hug, when she tells him ‘I love you’ without words. B doesn’t need words. This Bruce doesn’t know her, doesn’t communicate like her. She wants B back.

Damian: At first, when this version of his father seemed uncanny and oddly familiar, he assumed it to be due to the stories of his mother. After all, she always told him tales about his father. He simply did not have the frame of reference to understand the kindness she spoke of. Clearly, the clash between the ideals of the League and the ones of his father causes these feelings, just as they did when he first entered the manor.

He presumed this to be the case until one day on patrol Batman laid a hand on his shoulder and told him he did a good job after no particularly impressive fight and he nearly called him ‘Grayson’. Because the stories of his mother may have painted the picture of this version of his father, however, it wasn’t what made it familiar; no, he knew this kindness. These hugs and compliments one would bestow upon a child. Compliments which, despite the indignity, still warm him. Because Grayson learned how to be a… caregiver from his father.

His father used to be like Grayson, used to be until his grief hardened him. Damian could have had this. Damian could have a brother and father who would- But he doesn’t because of Todd. He loathes Todd. Loathes him for ruining the life he could have had.

Why did he die anyway? Damian certainly wouldn’t have a problem escaping bonds created by the Joker, Damian would have disarmed the bomb in time, Damian would have never thrown this life away like he did.

[Or: Damian is a child who was raised by assassins and has unreasonable standards for fighting abilities and also is a child who needs to focus his rage on someone.]

Duke: He was neither there before Jason died nor in the aftermath [according to my math he was around 4 when Jason died] he joined the family when Jason was already back for 4 years or so. He mostly skipped all the drama. For him, Bruce is the way Bruce is because he is Bruce. It’s weird to see him so different, to see how grief shaped parts of Bruce which Duke assumed were just Bruce things.

He’s glad this Bruce is brighter, or not because it just highlights how much that light will dim? Who knows, certainly not him. 

What he does know is that, with their Bruce, he has a distance which, with his parents still alive, he appreciates. With this Bruce, he can understand why Dick struggled so much whether he wants to be his ward or son, how he doesn’t want to replace his parents but still have this Bruce as a dad. It definitely explained the ted talk Dick tried to give him after Bruce officially took him in as a ward.

He likes this Bruce well enough, but he doesn’t necessarily want him to stay this way. Yes, their Bruce is less happy, less open but he did heal, he did grow. Duke met a Bruce who tried to learn from his mistakes, learned to communicate better, and learned when to pull and when to push. For Tim, Damian, Dick, and certainly Jason there is too much baggage, too much history in their relationships, it’s difficult for them to ever move past- anything really.

Sure, when Dick and Bruce are on the same page they are essentially invincible but then the past catches up again and they don’t talk to each other for months. And honestly? Apart from Cass, Duke’s pretty sure he has one of the best relationships with Bruce simply because he got to know him at a better time.

Duke doesn’t mind this Bruce. But their Bruce loved Jason, cared for him so deeply the scars still show to this day. And he still chooses to open up again even if just a bit by bit. Even if just Duke can see it. He is used to being the only one that can see.

And maybe knowing this care extends to him, this love even grief can’t shake? Maybe it makes him feel just a little bit safer, a little bit warmer, a little bit brighter.

[crownremonique]

I Need Your Help

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Fandom: The Rookie

Summary: When you find yourself in danger walking late at night, You think it's best to give Tim a call rather than trying to deal with it yourself.

Warnings: Mentions of attacking with weapon, Fluff, crying, comfort, (Tim being a huge softie)

Word count: 1.2k+ words

Bright rays of sunshine slipped through the gap in the curtains, illuminating the room in soft hues of orange. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, trying to turn but stopping when you realised you couldn't. The weight of Tim's arm kept you pinned down to the mattress, his soft little snores vibrating on your skin. You craned your neck, just enough for his face to come into view. 

You always loved seeing Tim sleep peacefully, although it was becoming more rare. His job was taxing, draining him by the end of the day, and it filled you with happiness beyond words to see him relax by your side. The harsh furrow between his brows had disappeared, his face devoid of any signs of stress. 

“I can feel your eyes on me, honey” Tim spoke, his eyes still shut. 

“How long have you been awake?” You questioned, clearly being caught off guard. Tim's face broke into a smile as he opened his eyes, pulling you closer. 

“I just wish I didn't have to leave you so soon..” Tim spoke into your hair, drawing little patterns on your forearm. You hummed in agreement, inching closer. Eventually, Tim pulled himself away from you and started getting ready for the day, asking you your own plans. 

“I have some books I gotta return to the library, It’s the last day and I am NOT paying any late fees.” You concluded. Tim chuckled and kissed the top of your head. 

“Need me to drop you there? I can come pick you up on my break” He offered, with a gentle smile. 

“No need, I'll walk. I have to pick up some milk from the grocery store too.” You said. Tim shrugged one of his shoulders with a look that said “Whatever you say” and left the house, with a quick reminder for you to be careful. 

You also decided to get up and get started with some breakfast and then go out for the errands you had planned. What you didn't know was that you would come across a brownie cookie recipe on Pinterest, spend more than a few hours getting them perfect, and then surprise Tim with them at the station. 

When the realisation of how your time had flown by finally settled in, the thought of the unreturned books struck your mind. It was already well past eight, and you would be able to get to the library and back by ten if you hurried up. You briefly thought about Tim’s offer, but shut the idea down, not wanting to disturb him again after you already wasted plenty of his time dropping off your cookies. 

Pulling a jacket around your shoulders, you set out to the library. You were thankful that you got there soon, not wanting to carry the heavy books any longer. Dropping them off with the librarian, you made your way down the dark street, deciding if the milk could wait till tomorrow. 

Seeing the shortcut back through a narrow alley, you decided to take it, wanting to get out of the chilly night as soon as you could. You had taken that very shortcut lots of times, but always when it was light out. You were already halfway into the alley when you heard something shuffle behind you.

You turned around swiftly, planting your feet into the ground to steady yourself. 

You weren't stupid, you knew what was happening as soon as a man stepped out from behind the trash can, weapon in hand. Calming your breathing, you called out to the man. 

“I may not look like much, but I sure as hell can take you out” You said, making sure to raise your voice to get someone's attention in case things got out of hand. The man rushed forward, taking your words as an open challenge. He swung at your side with his knife, grunting when you seemingly dodged his attack with ease. All the time Tim spent teaching you self-defense really did come in handy after all. You managed to kick the man in his groin, stepping away when he doubled over in pain. 

You decided pretty quickly to run when you saw more people emerging from the shadows. You took off down the alley, as you heard the rest of the thugs follow behind. Your heart pounded in your ears, fear flowing through your veins. You definitely wouldn't be able to defend yourself alone from that many people, and the nearest public place was more than a mile away. Your last option? Call Tim. 

You ducked into one of the diversions of the road, and crouched down behind one of the storage units. Pulling out your phone and quickly dialling your boyfriend's number, you prayed that he would pick up. The phone had to ring only a few times before his voice came through. 

“Hello?” 

“I need your help. I'm being chased and cornered by some thugs. 822 E, 20th street” You cut him off, your voice trembling with fear. You heard the line go silent as he processed the information. 

“I'm on my way.” He said curtly, hanging up the phone. Tim rushed to the parking lot, shoving people out of the way. He barked at Lucy to get in the shop, ordering an entire team of cops to follow him. 

“Geez, what's gotten into him?” Nolan asked, staring at Tim's sudden change in behaviour. Nyla shrugged dismissively.

 “No idea, but with that enthusiasm, I can only assume he's going to come back with the greatest criminal in the history of LAPD.” 

You crouched on the floor, pulling your legs closer to you and hoping that Tim would get to you before the thugs did. The time you spent waiting for the cops was agonising, each moment stretching on for what seemed like forever, filled with anticipation of your fate. Your ears were just starting to ring from the silence when you heard the shuffling of footsteps a few metres from where you were hiding.

Your body had started shivering with terror as you tried to calm your breathing. Clasping a hand over your mouth, you tried not to let your shallow whimpers be heard. You jumped when the storage unit hiding you was ripped away, the man smirking and looking down at your trembling form.

“There you are..” the man taunted, grabbing you by your hair. You cried out in pain, as he tugged harder. He pulled you up to meet his eye, but dropped you immediately as a dozen flashlights pointed at you both, blinding him temporarily. 

“LAPD, Drop the weapon! Hands where we can see them, interlock them behind your head and get on your knees.” You heard Tim call out. Relief washed over you, the sight of Tim flooding you with a sense of safety. He kept his gun high and side stepped over to where you were crouched down. You fell into his embrace as you saw Lucy handcuff the man on the hood of their car. 

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you? I swear to god if he laid a finger on you I'm gonna-” You cut him off with a searing kiss, his shoulders relaxing as he felt you, safe in his arms. 

“I'm fine, don't worry about me..” You mumbled against his lips, running your hand through his hair. He buried his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply as he loosened his grip on your waist. “With you up my alley, I’ll be just fine.” You continued, your eyes welling up again as thoughts of what could have happened flooded your head.

“I am never letting you go anywhere alone again.” Tim declared, searching your eyes for any sign of objection. He never did find any.

✨️

[i-yap]

Batboys x quiet! reader(who is not quiet in private)

( some of the reasons for the quietness is a bit traumatic so uhh warning)

Dick grayson -

opposites attract is possibly my favorite trope ever. And that is exactly what you guys are . Not exactly golden retriever x black cat though people who didn't know you guys well assumed such .

Dick would get exhausted spending forever being charming and charismatic for even the most extroverted of people get tired when they had to manage multiple superhero teams, a detective squad and the whole batfamily.

You were silence, peace serenity almost..until you weren't. Grayson was worried about this relationship in the start, after all you guys were really different. He was afraid you were going to be annoyed by his sunshine self, and that when he isn't feeling like talking, the conversations would go silent.

But you really are so different when comfortable with someone, and its tough not to trust and drop your shield with grayson.

It took him by surprise slowly seeing you open up and show your weird side. It somehow made him cherish it more and even want to show sides of him that only you got to see.

When he asked you why you weren't like this with everyone you said " My parents had a habit of talking over me, sometimes outrightly not hearing me speak at all. No matter how loud I spoke..i wondered if they couldn't hear me...if anyone even wanted to you" "why me then?" asked dick , "you're nothing like my parents, I know you care" and he does..he really does. He won't ever let you feel like that every again. He will make sure everything you want said is heard, and if not he will burn it into the skyline

Jason todd

he appreciated it, a quiet person in public. He hated being in public, he hated the buzz the noise the push the touch of humans around him. He felt strange

till he feels you hold his knowing you felt just as strange as him. Leave the gala and walk around the library , one earphone in each ear listening to whatever you wished to play.

Pulling you close in crowded areas- was it for you or for him? Glaring at anyone who dared tease you about your quietness. A single glare usually does the job but don't worry ...other ways exist too.

He loves that when you two are alone, you are a completely different person. It makes him feel special, like he is the only one who understands you. Because you're the only one who understands him.

When he asks " well I guess I never felt like people liked what came out of my mouth.. my humour too dark, my words too dumb and I didn't make sense. So I stopped trying" don't worry about being cringe..he understands you completely

Tim drake

he is intruiged. How do you pull such a perfect facade. How does one look so poised and collected with those rich assholes and so wild and untamed with him?

He could never really perfect the act the way you did. He's seen you grow up, but somehow its like you were born with two people living in your brain.

If you're this mysterious to your childhood lover, how does anyone in the world even think that they could know you, both versions of you.

Dont get me wrong, he loved it, A mystery he never could solve, not even with your help.

" Teach me your ways master" "I remember you wanting me to call you that last night..oh no wait it was si-" "shut upp" "fine ill tell you timmy boy, I just believe those rich stick up their ass puppets don't deserve to see all ..this.." "what about school kids, friends , teemates-" "I don't need anyone to get me as long as you do"

He will never get it, even if someone engraved it into his skin he wont understand everything about you , you'll always be the case he couldn't solve.

AND WE ARE BACK BICHES , send in requests and stuff, inbox open again blah blah I'm feeling much better now but I might push angst stuff more

[xxchumanixx]

I know it says requests closed, ok? But i'll leave this here until you take requests ❤️

also i looove your work sm

can you do one with tim bradford x fem!reader with a lot of angst, hurt to comfort something bad? like the reader gets hurt, kidnapped something very bad outside work.

the reader is lucy's best friend and tim's gf, maybe the reader being a rookie at the same time as lucy

and the reader gets in some trouble and it becomes progressively worse but she didn't say anything to anyone bc she's a cop and think she can handle it?

but in the end it's like really bad and tim is desperate looking for her, and his world crushes when he finds her?

something similar to 2x11 (that ep broke me into pieces and the scene with tim and lucy buried my heart right in hell) but his desperation is waay worse bc it's about the reader and he loves her

lots of love ❤️

Breaking Point

Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Warnings/Tags: a lot of angst, hurt, mentions of blood, fluff

Word count: tba

Authors note: Hello love, omg it's been soo long I'm soooo sorry! This is not proofread yet, but I hope you'll like it! Love you!

Also, don't know if anyone else has that problem, but every time I make something fat or cursive, it changes the whole text after a few seconds. This happened after an update, and it's SO annoying!

OMG

Anyways, enjoy!

Listen, I know what you might think now.

Okay, maybe I don't. But to get captured and tortured wasn't your intention when this started.

Hell, of course it wasn't.

But you couldn't have predicted this either.

Neither could you have predicted how an encounter with a certain gangster would end - with you doing whatever he says.

At least he had the decency to only let you make his wrongdoings disappear.

It all went good.

That was, until one day you said no to him. It took him ten hours of his patience to kidnap and torture you, leave you for every cop to see what a shitty job you had done for this city.

And to your fellow colleagues.

You had only graded p2, together with Lucy and John. Lucy and you were best friends; it had instantly clicked once you started your training together.

You had been the first to know about her and John, had helped her through the heartbreak and all that had followed.

She, in turn, was the first to know about you and Tim.

You had started dating when you were still a rookie - luckily not his, or else it would have made everything a lot more complicated.

So, when everything seemed to go perfect, it had to come some shit along the way. It just couldn't have stayed perfect, could it?

This shit was named Luis El Ferno.

A wealthy son of an even wealthier mafia family that had a thing for speeding and collecting tickets. Along with other things that piled up in his file.

And as luck had it, he sought you out to be the perfect candidate for blackmailing. So when the first picture of your almost naked form landed in your mail, you had the shock of your life.

The photo was paired with a letter, saying if you didn't do as he said, he'd ruin your career. And not only that.

He'd ruin you completely.

So you complied, hoping to handle this on your own. Tim was clueless, as was the rest of them all.

Things soon took turns, though, getting worse the more time passed. Then, when he wanted you to do more than just cleaning up his mess, you said no.

You told yourself it was for the better.

You were a cop after all. You could handle this, right?

Big mistake.

When he found out he couldn't threaten you with the photos anymore, at least not enough for you to give in, he let his men kidnap you.

They punched you and used you as their personal boxing bag. They didn't stop when you were pleading, and they didn't stop when you fell silent.

They only stopped when there was nothing left to beat.

And when you closed your eyes, you had never been more grateful for the comfort of nothingness.

----

"You have to be kidding me!" Lucy laughed, leaning back on the sofa. "No way! Tell me you're lying!"

You laughed with her, shaking your head. "I wish I was." you said. "It was so embarrassing! For a moment, I thought he'd let me walk back to the station!"

She laughed louder, biting her lip.

"I would have loved to see that!" she said. "I can imagine the look on Tim's face so clearly!"

You shook your head, smiling. "Yeah, you should have seen the way he tried to keep his cool." you told her. "The poor lady excused herself so many times that her puke was already dry when she finally was in the car."

Lucy doubled over with laughter, the glass in her hand shaking threateningly. "Oh my god!" she breathed out, wiping at her eyes. "Damn, I need that body cam material!"

Eyes widening, you shook your head. "God, no!"

She laughed even more at your shocked expression, wiping at her eyes once more. Oh, she would somehow get that footage, she was sure of that.

It was a night with your bestie, a tradition that had developed early in your training as a rookie. You would sit together, drink cocktails, and do whatever you wanted.

Painting your nails, watching sappy movies, or simply talking.

It was something you never would have missed out on. So, when you didn't show up that day and Lucy didn't get a message from you saying that you wouldn't make it, either, she started to get worried.

She knew you better than most people did, so she knew something must be wrong. Calling Tim, her fingers danced over the rim of her glass, nerves piling up.

"Hey, do you know where Y/N is?" she asked when he picked up, not wasting any time.

Tim frowned on the other end of the line. "I thought she would be with you?" he gave back, eyes scanning the living room.

Your things weren't there, so you must have been on your way to Lucy, right?

"Well, she isn't here, and she didn't text me." Lucy responded, causing Tim's frown to deepen. You were reliable, you wouldn't just cancel plans without telling her.

Let alone disappear.

"I haven't heard from her since this morning." Tim admitted, biting his cheek. "I mean, we had an argument, but still, she would at least text."

Lucy sighed, nodding to herself.

"I'm worried, Tim." she admitted. "If she didn't text any of us, nor show up..." She bit down on her finger, trying to get rid of the horrible thoughts swarming her mind.

Tim swallowed heavily. He already felt guilty for not checking up on you earlier, and the fact that they didn't know where you were, made it even worse.

"I'm heading to the station." he decided, getting up with the phone still pressed to his ear. Lucy nodded on the other end. "Okay, I'll meet you there."

He knew better than to argue with her. She'd do anything for the people she loved.

----

"Okay, one last chance." he whispered into your ear, causing you to shiver in disgust. His breath reeked of whiskey, his shirt of cigarettes. "I really don't want to rearrange that pretty face of yours."

You swallowed heavily but didn't budge. He wouldn't get you to let a corpse disappear.

Never.

He tutted, shaking his head disapprovingly. "And here I thought we were friends." he mused, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

You jerked your head away from him, glaring up at him. "We're not friends, Luis." you told him angrily. He scoffed, the back of his hand connecting with your cheek with a harsh slap.

Your head whipped to the side, skin aflame.

Tears pricked in your eyes, but your anger only intensified.

"Do you really think you're in command here?" he seethed, harshly grabbing your chin to make you look at him, fingers digging into your burning flesh. "Dont forget who you're dealing with!"

You spit in his face in response.

Another big mistake.

You really should have listened to your mother never to get involved with such people.

Mothers always were right, weren't they?

Luis face became progressively darker, turning redder. He roared, and his fist made contact with your gut, knocking the wind out of you.

So much for the gut feeling.

"Maybe I should teach you a lesson." Luis grumbled, shaking his hand. "You little slut are stepping out of line, and I really don't like that!"

You swallowed, knowing what this man was capable of doing.

Or let do.

He whistled, smirking at you. Two men entered the large room that could have worked as bouncers - ex-military if you'd had to guess.

Luis turned his attention to the men, speaking extra loud so you wouldn't miss his words.

"This little whore needs to be taught a lesson." he told them. "Or two. She's dancing out of line, and I can't have that. Vladimir-" he turned to one of them and your blood ran cold.

Russians.

"You said your wrist ached, right? Maybe a little punching will help?"

Vladimir, the bigger of the too, chuckled darkly. "When did it not?"

His knuckles cracked, and your eyes closed, silently praying Tim would find you before it was too late.

----

"I want every available cop in this station." Tim spoke as Grey entered the on call room. His brows knitted at Tim's words, clearing his throat.

"Bradford, what is going on?" he wanted to know, all eyes on them. "Y/N is missing." Tim explained, thumbs hooked into his waistband, so his fingers wouldn't fumble with everything they got hold of.

Grey's brows knitted further before he nodded. "Are you sure she's missing?" he asked. Tim nodded, eyes downcast. "Yes, sir."

Grey hummed, clearing his throat again. "Okay." he said, swallowing. "Where was she last seen?"

They started to form a plan, checking your last locations. Your phone hadn't been responsive yet, not being able to be tracked.

They were checking out possible locations on a map, as Tim's phone suddenly rang with a message, then another. He fished for his phone, hoping it was you.

His hopes were heard.

Without further checking the message, he clicked on it, mind working overtime.

Then, his blood ran cold, and everything suddenly came crashing to a halt.

The message consisted of a photo and a text.

A photo of you, battered and bruised, blood staining your body and clothes. They were torn, your head hanging low.

Under the photo, the message read: "Your officer, Y/N Y/L/N, has done a very shitty job. Only fair for her to pay the price for it."

Tim could feel all eyes on him, the room suddenly eerily silent. His fingers trembled, his whole body trembled.

He could hear Grey distantly, asking him what happened. He could feel his hand on his shoulder, turning him towards him, but everything seemed to be in a blur.

Grey's gaze fell to the phone, and his heart stopped. "Oh god." he mumbled, a lump forming in his throat.

Lucy stepped forward, heart hammering nervously in her chest. Whatever it was, it wasn't good. "What happened?" she wanted to know, repeating Grey's words.

Neither of them reacted for a second, glued to the spot, eyes on the phone. Moments later, it clattered to the floor as Tim stumbled backward. Lucy took the opportunity to grab it, turning the display towards her.

She wished she hadn't.

Her breath got stuck in her throat at what she saw. She read the text a few times, mind running haywire. Her hands shook, and she had to place the phone down, or otherwise it would have fallen for a second time.

They could only hope you weren't as dead as you looked.

----

It was ugly.

First you found it strange, then funny that they were counting the amount of times they punched you.

They must have been paid for punches.

After the tenth punch, you fell silent. You had pleaded for them to stop only moments earlier, as they took turns in punching and slapping you.

Neither of them cared for your feeble attempts. It only seemed to spur them on.

Every part of your body ached by now, your numb mind telling you to be grateful that they weren't doing other things to you.

It felt like you'd been hit by a truck numerous times.

You weeped as a blow to your stomach knocked any remaining air from your lungs.

That was all you could muster now.

A small weep.

Your head felt like it was wrapped in clouds, vision blurry, and slowly fading. Your hope of getting out of this alive withering by the second.

How were they supposed to find you? How should they track you when Luis took your phone, most likely destroying it?

A punch in your face made your head spin, as everything seemed to blur together, dark spots obscuring your vision further.

And as you thought all hope was lost, you slowly sank into the comfort of unconsciousness.

----

Time seemed to tick in slow motion.

Tim couldn't keep still, he had to move, trying to match his racing heart.

The fear he felt cut deep, like a knife. It bored its way into his heart, infecting it with its poison. He had only felt such fear twice before - once when his ex-wife left him overnight, and the second time when Lucy was buried alive.

But it didn't compare to the fear he felt now. It seemed tenfold.

Grey had to calm him multiple times, or else he would have stormed out there, searching every building for you.

He would have done everything for you.

After what felt like an eternity to Tim, they were able to track the location where the photo of you was taken.

The photo that was glued to the back of his eyelids, not letting him think of anything else.

He felt guilty, an ugly feeling that crept into his very being, infiltrating all of his nerves, his bones, and very fibers.

It was the worst feeling of them all.

He blamed himself - blamed himself for accusing you of having secrets eatlier that day.

That he was right he didn't know then.

But he'd seen your change in demeanor, the way you would pull away from him.

It hurt him so much that he caused an argument.

One he was deeply regretting now.

He had to remind himself to pay attention, to wait for the signal to enter the warehouse they located you in.

How cliché.

When Grey gave the signal, Tim's heart stumbled before it doubled its speed.

Time to move.

They walked forward in formation before splitting, getting ready to bust the door open and head inside, facing whatever might lurk behind the heavy metal door.

When the door was opened, he was the first to enter the large room, eyes quickly scanning his surroundings, gun drawn, as he flinched at the sight.

Tim believed his heart had stopped.

If he hadn't been standing upright, he'd thought he'd died - even though that could have changed any second, as he stumbled towards you.

He couldn't tell if you were still breathing, your body hanging limp in the chair in the middle of the warehouse. Your face was bruised - badly, blood wherever his eyes reached.

They stung, tears threatening to push through. But he did his best to keep himself together, even though the gasp Angela let out as she saw you, didn't make it any easier for him.

Falling down on his knees in front of you, he let his gun clatter to the floor, fingers carefully brushing away the hair that was stuck to your bloody face. With trembling fingers, he tried to feel for a pulse, heart stopping when he didn't immediately find one.

He could feel the others stare at him, waiting for an answer.

"Come on!" he mumbled to himself, feeling again as goosebumps covered his skin.

There - it was weak, but it was there.

"She's alive." he managed to get out, knowing that the ambulance was already on the way. Relief flooded him, even though it was short-lived.

You seemed like you would give out any moment.

Nyla walked behind you, carefully cutting the rope that was binding you to the chair - the only thing keeping you upright, as you fell forward and into Tim's arms.

His body shook, but he did his best to suppress it.

He had to be strong for the both of you now.

He cradled you in his arms, biting his lip until it bled, all to keep the tears at bay. Praying to whatever gods may be above to let you survive this.

Losing you would have been too much. It'd have destroyed him irrevocably.

He could hear sirens, swallowing against the lump in his throat that seemed to get bigger as time slowly passed.

He could feel the stares, knew they were asking themselves what you must have done to deserve this.

Hell, he asked himself the same question.

And, most importantly, who did this to you.

Whoever it was wouldn't get far once Tim would have his hands on them.

He barely noticed when the paramedics almost had to pry you from his hands, getting you ready for transport.

He was in the back of the ambulance even before they had carried you in.

His numb fingers dug into his pockets, catching onto something. They gripped hold of it, turning the small object over in his hand, thumb brushing over the velvet.

A ring.

He had meant to give it to you, having noticed how much you had seemed to like it when you first saw it.

Now he wondered if he'd ever have the chance to give it to you.

Once you were settled, they took off, the look on Lucy's face surely going to haunt him for weeks to come.

It mirrored his own emotions perfectly.

Fear, helplessness.

Something he didn't feel often.

----

Steady, rhythmic beating was what brought you back.

An awful sound, yet it was the proof of life.

Your body felt heavy, mind dizzy. Your mouth was dry and you were sure you must have died and went straight to hell.

Blinking your eyes open, they were met by dim light, stars shining on the other side of the big window.

You swallowed, trying to get rid of the dryness. As your eyes slowly took in your surroundings, landing on Tim whose head lay on your bed, sleeping peacefully, it all came crushing back.

Tears flooded your eyes, soon the dam breaking. They ran over your face in hot streaks, your bruised skin stinging.

Hands shaking, you brought one of it up to his head, softly brushing through his hair as a sob spilled over your lips.

What you had done was nowhere excusable. They would fire you once they knew what exactly you had done.

You were sure of it.

Tim stirred, disturbed in his sleep. His eyes blinked open, and once they fell on you, he was wide awake, sitting upright.

He scooted closer with his chair, hands gripping your own. Seeing you cry broke his heart.

"It's okay." he shooed, thumbs brushing over the back of your hands before he brought one up, carefully wiping at your tear streaked face. "It's okay, you're safe now."

Your head shook almost automatically, tears and sobs intensifying. "No." you croaked out, sight blurry, and his brows furrowed. "No, it's not okay."

Your head fell back into the cushion, biting your lip as you shook it again.

"What happened?" Tim voiced the question he'd asked himself so many times. "Who did this to you?"

At first, you didn't answer, gaze fixed on the ceiling. When he was about to ask again, your mouth slowly opened.

"I fucked up." you managed to get past your split lips. "I fucked everything up."

Tim had to swallow, doing his best to stay patient. Whatever you did must have been so bad, that it resulted in this.

Clearing your throat, you took a deep breath. "Luis El Ferno." you said his name, blinking rapidly to will away another wave of tears.

The name vaguely rang a bell in Tim's head. He must have been someone they arrested before.

"After we arrested him a few months back, he-" you cut yourself off, fingers cramping around his. "He started to blackmail me with photos someone took of me... naked."

Tim's heart stuttered to a painful halt, eyes widening. Every single thought in his mind came to a stop as your words slowly sank in.

Blackmailed.

Photos of you.

Naked.

He swallowed heavily, that ugly feeling of guilt intensifying.

He should have noticed.

"He wanted me to erase things from his file." you continued, ripping him from his vile thoughts. "And when he asked of me to let a corpse disappear, I said no. Big mistake."

Despite the situation, you managed a humorless, dry laugh, but Tim wasn't in the mood for laughing.

No, he was far closer to breaking something.

Or someone.

"He let his guards 'teach me a lesson', as he said it. To show everyone what a shitty job I did. And he was right."

Tim's gaze snapped back to yours, having been glued to the blanket before. The chair made a nasty sound on the linoleum as he brought it ever closer.

Now he knew what you'd been hiding the past few months.

He would have done the same.

His head shook unbeknownst to him, and he wished he could take you into his arms, hold you close to shield you from all the horror in the world.

But you could barely move, your survival a sole miracle.

He brought your hand to his lips, unable to find the words to assure you everything would be fine.

He knew it wouldn't.

"I'm so sorry." you croaked out, biting your swollen lip as more tears fell. "I know I should have told you, but I was so scared. He said he'd end me if I told someone."

Tim swallowed again, bile rising in his throat at the thought.

Oh, how badly he wanted to have a chat with this man.

Though chat might not be the right word.

He took a deep breath to calm himself. Then his fingers dug into his pocket, taking out the small, velvety box.

He turned it over in his hand before slowly opening it, taking the ring out. It glittered in the dim light, reflecting it.

Your eyes widened at the sight, recognizing it. You had admired it through the jeweler's window, knowing you'd never buy it, because it was way too expensive.

Seeing it now, crushed your heart.

He bad bought it for you.

Tim wiped at his nose before he took your hand, slowly putting the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly.

Then his fingers encircled yours, holding them tight as he swallowed.

"We'll do this together." he said, looking up at you. "Whatever might come, we'll do it together. I'll fight Grey on it if need be, but you won't leave the LAPD."

Fresh tears gathered in your eyes, blurring your sight. The love you felt for this man was indescribable. And you could only hope you hadn't lost him with what you'd done.

"I love you." he spoke, licking his lip. It tasted salty, and he noticed that a tear of his own had managed to spill. "I promise you I'll be there whenever you need me. We can do this, whatever may come. You and I."

You sobbed, overwhelmed by his words. "I love you, too." you managed to say, not sure how you deserved him. "But I don't know how we'll do that."

He bit his lip, and for the first time since you had been missing, he smiled. It was a small one, but it was a smile nonetheless.

"Let me handle that."

Tag List

@newobsessionweekly @laheysfilm @dhundhchrih @augustvandyne @rookietrek @nachofriess @dtftheavengers @wonderland2425

[bouncybongfairy]

Late Night At Fazbear's

Mike Schmidt x Fem Reader

Summary: Mike is an ex-coworker with whom you have a situationship with. Knowing about your interest in arcade games, he invites you to visit him at an abandoned pizzeria to check it out. Things get a little heated before you get a chance to look around.

Word Count: 2.5k+

(!This is a smut fanfic, you’ve been warned!)

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

You were working on some last-minute statistics homework after you got out of the shower. It was a Friday night and even though you got an offer from your friend group to go out, you decided to stay home. Going to house party after party was getting annoying. Half the time, the only people there were drunk frat boys trying to get some before their whiskey dick kicked in. Being a wing girl for your friends was fun the first thirty times but now you’d rather stay home. Things in your life seemed so stagnant, it was like all you did was school, work, then bumming it at home. Like you were some uncharismatic dad in a sitcom. Suddenly your phone goes off, which breaks you out of the trance you were in. When you answered, you immediately recognized the voice to be Mike from the pizza place you guys used to work at together. You thought it was kinda weird that he was calling you so randomly but you did talk often when working together. For reasons that still are unclear, you answered.

“Hey! Sorry I know this is- it’s kinda random but can you talk for a second?” his voice spoke over the receiver. 

“Yeah, I’m just hanging out at home. What’s up?” you asked, now standing up to pace around your room. 

“Oh cool cool, so kinda weird to explain but bear with me here. Remember how you were super obsessed with the old arcade games we had in the back of the pizza shop? Anyway, I got this new job at an old pizzeria and there’s a bunch of old games and animatronics. I was thinking while I’m working the graveyard shift you could maybe swing by for an hour or two and check it out with me?” His voice was so sweet and soft-spoken that you couldn’t help but blush over the phone. You coiled your finger around the wire of the landline. 

“Umm, yeah that sounds kinda fun actually, when are you there till?” you asked with a hint of a smirk on your face. 

“My shift starts at 12 am and ends at 6 am, no pressure. Obviously, I’ll be here all night,” he laughed.

“Yeah, I’ll call you right before I leave okay?” you asked softly. 

“Yeah that’s perfect, I’ll see you then,” he said. 

You put the phone back on its hook and check the time on your alarm clock. To your dismay, you’d been studying for two hours and it was 10:50. Luckily you’d already showered but that wasn’t the problem. Internally, you were going through a moral dilemma. Part of you was telling yourself that he was just a coworker that got attached and another part, wanted to do your hair and make-up and hair before going. Making sure that every strand sat just right as if he’d somehow notice. To make sure your eyelashes have the exact amount of mascara they need to be long but not clumpy. If you thought all these things, wouldn’t that mean you do care what he thinks of you? Although you were bubbling with a mix of nervousness and anticipation, you managed to finish getting ready. You start packing your bag, pacing around looking for all your items. Car keys, pocket knife, compact, body spray, and your wallet. As you went to take the cartoon of cigarettes from your bedside table, you thought about taking the joint that was rolled. Sitting on your knees in front of your nightstand, you start dialing Mike’s number to let him know you are on the way. After shoving all the contents into the bag, you make your way outside and start your Mazda. You were sitting in the car for a few moments, thinking about if you were really going. 

Once you pulled into the parking lot, thoughts of regret started to bubble in your brain. You would have turned around if it weren’t for Mike’s car being in the parking lot. You checked the time on the radio and saw that it was only 12:57, was it weird that you were there so early? You were slightly worried that it would look desperate. Deciding to let that unneeded anxiety go, you get out of the car and lock your doors. Take a moment to take in the outside of the building. It appeared to be severely unkempt, brown vines covered most of the building. Due to the unsettling vibe of the building, the bear that was supposed to look cute and inviting was the exact opposite. Creating an ominous feeling as it waved at you. The walls were mostly a dull yellow color with red and blue accents and a black and white checkered line across the middle. One of the R’s of the sign was out, only adding to the sketchy feeling. You knocked on the big metal doors, wiping your knuckles off on your jeans. When Mike swung the door open, it made you jump and gasp. This caused him to break out into a fit of laughter. You playfully pushed his shoulder back. 

He took you back to the small room where he was monitoring all the security footage. The room was more creepy than the outside of the building. You sat down on the desk and Mike plopped down on his office chair. He was completely slouched back, wearing a gray thermal and a dark hooded sweater. His hair was more curly than shaggy and he had a five o’clock shadow. You set your purse on the desk and stood up, looking at the security cameras. One of the first things you noticed was the group of animatronics that were standing on the stage together. It was then that you realized what you really had gotten yourself into. 

He was surprised that you even came, yes you guys had become close while working together but he didn’t think it would lead to anything after. You were currently facing away from him, and he couldn’t help but admire you as you did so. He liked the fact that you were so well put together. Your jeans were fitted perfectly and your thong peaked out slightly from the top of your waistband. When you entered the small room, the entire space began to smell like apple-scented perfume. The white long sleeve was also very fitted, which brought attention to your figure. You turned around once you noticed it had been silent for a while. Grabbing your purse, you pull out the cartoon of cigs. Bringing the lighter to it and taking a drag to light it. After taking a couple of puffs you pass it to Mike who leans forward with a groan. As he took his hit, a piece of ash fell onto his pants. You leaned down and brushed it off his knee. 

“So much for cutting back right?” he asked rhetorically. 

“Oh yeah, I did switch to Spirits though. My grandma swore by these,” you said taking it back. 

“Do you smoke weed?” he asked, you laughed and started digging through your bag and pulled out the Altoids container, grabbing the joint. 

“Will you get in trouble? For like, smoking on the job?” you asked. 

“Oh no, this place is abandoned. There’s usually nobody in and out of here that would notice,” he said. 

You lit the joint and took a deep drag, blowing the smoke at his face playfully. He laughed as he took the joint into his hands and inhaled. You put the cig out on the glass ashtray that sat on the desk. He commented on how good the flower tasted which made you relieved knowing he didn’t think it was reggie. You guys started talking about memories of working together. You guys would always take smoke breaks together and go to lunch every once and a while. Mike actually listened to what you had to say. He wasn’t the type of person that constantly changed to a conversation with himself. A lot of guys you spoke with were usually just telling you whatever you wanted to hear. Everything you had to say was so fascinating and impressive because they were just trying to butter you up. Mike would actually give his opinions on things and would tell you if he thought what you were saying was stupid. It was refreshing, to be honest, to have an interaction with the opposite sex without them drooling on you. You glanced over at Mike, maybe it was the weed but something felt different now. The way his legs were spread so widely made something in you feel hot. Eyes were now bloodshot, making the hazel color stand out even more than before. When he reached for the joint again, his hand brushed over yours. This made you make eye contact with him but then break away once the awkwardness set in. You looked down and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“Are you still with Jackson?” he asked.

“What? Oh yeah, we broke up a while ago,” you said, rubbing your arm.

“Well, what happened? I mean… If you don’t mind me asking,” he said. 

“No it’s- he just..” you took a deep inhale and spoke as the smoke poured out of your mouth, “he was really aggressive like, not just with his words. Not saying he beat me or anything but some things are meant to be more sweet and gentle. Sorry, I don’t know why I'm telling you this,” you said, passing it back. 

“No, I’m the one who brought it up. He always was a little misogynistic when we talked, I’m sorry you were subjected to that,” he said. You were sitting on the desk, you kicked off your sandals and gently swung your legs back and forth. 

“Yeah, I guess it just wasn’t meant to be,” you sighed.

“For sure, you could do so much better than that,” he said. 

“Oh yeah? When you say better what do you mean by that?” you asked, leaning over to grab the joint. 

“Like if you said he was overly aggressive then you’ll find someone that is more gentle and shit,” he said, chuckling a little. 

“Oh, I see,” you moved your foot so that it was resting on his inner thigh before continuing, “Maybe you could show me?” you asked flirtatiously, he looked up and looked at you with a shocked expression. 

You used your leg to roll him closer to where you were sitting. He was now smirking, looking up at you. He let his hands slide up both your outer thighs. He pulled you off the desk so that you were now sitting in his lap facing him. You still had the joint in your hand, you took a hit before letting it sit on the ashtray. Your noses were touching and you were relieved to see that his breath was as fast as yours. Running your fingers through his hair, forcing his head to tilt back a little. You ran your bottom lip across his, arching your back and pressing your crotches together. He picked you up which caused you to wrap your legs around his waist. He set you on the desk again so that he was standing, hovering over you. You reached your hands down between your bodies, trying to unbuckle his belt. He stopped the kiss and chuckled at your eagerness and helped you. As you unzipped his jeans, one of his arms reached behind you and undid the clasps of your bra. The way he unhooked it with one hand made you throb. He pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you in nothing but jeans. He still had his jeans on but now that his pants were undone, you could feel how hard he was through his boxers. It was like the heat coming off his dick was making your stomach feel warm and tight. Before he buried his face into your chest, the look on his face was almost primal. Like it was taking everything he had to keep his hands off of you. He took one of your breasts into his mouth and sucked, biting down every once in a while. He reached into his backpack that was sitting on the desk and pulled out a condom. He was breathing heavily and a couple of drips of sweat were beading down his forehead. As you unzipped your jeans you looked over at the security camera and thought you saw one of the animatronics move from the stage. You pulled away for a second to show him,

“Mike, I know we smoked and everything. Oh my god, I know this is going to be crazy but I swear I just saw one of those… things moved,” you said as he trailed kisses up your shoulder. 

“This is my third day here and I think that all the time. It’s just your head playing tricks on us because of how creepy they look,” he said, then tearing the foil package open. 

“Are you sure because I could have..” you started but then were interrupted by Mike throwing the still-packaged condom onto the desk and pressing a button that made both doors close around you. He then got down on his knees and gripped the top of your jeans, pulling them down. Instead of trying to pull your panties off of you, he simply pulls them to the side. Sticking his tongue in between your folds, massaging your clit. You had been in a dry spell since you broke up with Jackson and even then, he would never go down on you. The feeling of his mouth pressed against you was so euphoric, the moans that came out of your mouth were completely natural and unrehearsed. His pace was slow but he kept a steady rhythm which helped you chase to your climax. Instead of pulling at his hair, you cupped his face, gently stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. He looked up and made direct eye contact with you. His eyebrows were furrowed but when he saw the look on your face, his eyes closed and he groaned loudly. He grabbed your ankles and pushed your legs back so that your feet were now on the desk. You grabbed two fistfuls of hair and threw your head back, moaning loudly. The pressure of the top of your thighs being pressed into your lower stomach. Crying out as you cum, the moans came out strangled. As you started to come down from the wave of ecstasy, you began to feel insecure about how fast he made you cum. 

“God you are so fucking hot, like seriously I almost came in my boxers,” he said standing up and grabbing the condom. His lips were parted and his mouth was still covered in saliva. Without wiping his mouth, he slid the rubber onto his shaft. 

“Sorry, do you want to keep going?” he asked, you didn’t verbally respond. Instead, you grabbed him by his shirt and smashed your mouth into his. He moaned the word ‘fuck’ into your mouth before continuing kissing. He broke away to look down and line himself up with your entrance. You were still wet and swollen from the previous orgasm, enabling him to slide in with you easily. He dropped his forehead down on your shoulder, mouth open and moaning as he slowly started rocking back and forth into you. You scooted your ass down so that you could fully be pressed against his hips. The desk was continuously banging up against the wall. Your foreheads were now pressed together groaning and growling into each other’s mouth. Everything suddenly came to a halt when everything went dark. You both jump and start looking for any articles of clothing that are nearby. The big metal doors on both sides of you slam open so loud, that your ears start ringing. 

“What the fuck just happened!” you exclaim.

“The battery died,” he realizes. 

“Well has that ever happened while you’re working?” you asked.

“No,” he stated. 

“Holy fuck, do you hear that fucking music?” you whispered. 

[takumiraine]

Once Upon A Time chapter 4

<first> <prev> <next>

Danny should avoid him, because of his father. Danny should just brush him off and let him drown. Danny should keep his distance from anyone and everyone, but especially him.

Danny was never the best at doing what he should do, and worse, he was hungry.

—-

The cafe on campus was quaint, filled with light chatter and Jason was hating every second of it. Danny showed up just as he said he would, which meant he met Jason there, the man having already taken a back corner table for them. Danny walked up and set his books down. Jason had to wonder, did the kid not have a backpack?

“Any idea what you want?” Jason asked instead, standing. Danny looked over to the menu, eyes skimming it over.

“Uh… burger and fries okay?” Danny seemed uncomfortable. Jason would feel bad if it didn’t put him at the tactical advantage.

Jason nodded at his request. “The works?”

“Please.” Danny bit his lip and Jason waited, while he worked up the nerve for something, “and a coffee? Black?” Was that it? Jason almost rolled his eyes.

“Sure thing.” Jason went off to place the order and leave a hefty tip, because one, he wanted someone to bring it out and two he wasn’t that kind of asshole. He came back and sat on the chair he had been occupying, back to the corner, and resisted the urge to spread out.

Jason the Red Hood man-spreaded, Jason Todd-Wayne did not.

So he sat. And he rested his forearms on the table. “You do not need to look so nervous Danny.” Jason tried for the patented Wayne smile, certain he was coming up short.

“Huh…?” Danny turned to look at him, “oh, sorry. Long day.” The young man raked his fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face. Jason knew it was a lie, but it seemed a familiar one. Danny tried to position himself so he could have the most visibility while drawing the least attention to himself. The position of a man hunted or used to being ambushed.

Danny refocused his attention after a moment, and looked at Jason, tilting his head slightly. “I hope it wasn’t a drain on your day to wait for me.” Jason waved his hand in response, the perfect practiced rich-bitch wave he hated.

“Nah, my friend works in the library on days when she doesn’t have class. I bothered her.” Danny seemed to relax a bit at the words.

“Oh good. I know I’m like… doing this for you, but…”

Jason cut him off there, turning the train of thought. “Speaking of, have you thought about what you want to be paid?”

“Oh… uh… not really. Most campus jobs make minimum wage right? Is that cool?” Jason wanted to throw Tim at this guy to teach him business sense in negotiation. If he really was 19, what had happened his whole life to make him feel like he needed to be invisible, while also walking away with a literal knife to the stomach and show up to class the next day?

“Most campus jobs do make minimum wage,” Jason agreed, “but nobody in my family is in the habit of paying just that. Just because I think my father is…. Well, words not fit for the polite company he insists I keep, doesn’t mean I’m going to stiff someone out of a well earned wage just to spite him. Twenty an hour is the lowest I’ll go.” He grinned now, all teeth, and something in him got a sick little thrill at watching Danny go even paler at the amount of money.

“Are you sure?” Danny asked, as their food and drinks were brought to them on a brown plastic tray.

“Say yes Dan. It’s a good deal.” Jason offered his hand to shake over the food.

Danny looked like he was offering his soul to the devil as Jason heard the man’s stomach rumble. “Okay. Yes.” Danny took his hand, and while the hand was ice cold, Danny shook with a surprisingly firm grip. Maybe the kid had a spine after all.

“Good. Now dig in,” Jason said after they parted. He picked up a fry off of his own plate and bit it, watching Danny with a sort of idle curiosity, as the boy - no, young man, went about his food with a carefully controlled gusto. Jason couldn’t help but wonder when the last time Danny ate was. He made a mental note to have Oracle check where he lived so he could do some recon later.

By the time dinner was finished, Danny seemed much more alive. His skin seemed to have better color, his eyes seemed more bright, and his energy was up. The kid was definitely going hungry if those changes were so immediate. Since Danny was scrawny, he assumed it wasn’t a new problem.

“So what makes math so difficult for you?” He asked, wiping his mouth and tilting his head. The question was blunt, but there was no open malice behind those bright blue eyes. The same kind of blue as his own when he wasn’t pit mad.

Jason shrugged. “Not really sure. It’s always been my weakest subject.” Not a lie. “Beyond money, my brain doesn’t seem to care.” Half a lie, but plays into the rags to rich bitch stereotype.

“I get that. I told you about me and literature right? For me it seems like there’s poetry in the way the math just… works.” Danny paused then, skin flushing red. “Sorry, that was…. Really stupid.”

In another life, Jason would have really liked this kid he thinks.

“No, not at all. Whoever told you your insights weren’t good obviously never stopped to listen to you.” Was he flirting? Should he be flirting? He flirted to maintain a cover or gain intel all the time. That’s all this was.

He almost missed the way Danny’s skin flushed deeper, from his ears down his neck. Almost.

“Well…. You’re in the minority then.” It came out a little bitter. He watched Danny take a breath and “Anyways.” Danny waved a hand, banishing the thought and something serious took over his expression instead. “I’m not going to take it easy on you just because you’re paying me. I expect you to put in the work too.”

Jason was right, the guy did have a spine. “Sure thing.” He waved his hand and stood, grabbing his bag and the tray. Danny stood and grabbed his books too. “Library?”

“Library.” Danny agreed.

Over the next week Jason was “surprised” to find out that they had three classes together. Math, Lit and Comp and History. All three remedial, and really the only one that Danny seemed borderline to deserve was the Introduction to Literature and Composition course. What he was genuinely surprised to find was that he enjoyed spending the combined nine hours of classes a week with the kid. Although in ‘basic mathematic principles’ Danny was quiet and allowed Jason to focus so they could work on their tutoring more effectively, in their history and English classes Danny was witty and sarcastic. A second thing he had noticed was that now that the tutoring sessions were happening, an hour, sometimes more, after every class, to make sure he ‘got it’, Danny was almost always eating.

Jason had learned that Danny’s ‘big life goal’ was a roof over his head, where his friends and family could visit or stay as they liked and room to tinker. A job that let him help people.

It was that information that made Jason fully convinced that even though he hated the Justice League with a viciousness that most rogues would balk at, for reasons he had yet to disclose, Danny was not really likely to become a rogue unless something big happened.

He should stop the college charade now. It was no longer needed for recon, and the other birds were starting to get suspicious. Bruce was looking at him differently too now. Something like how he used to.

A pen tapped on his notebook and Jason brought his attention back. Danny didn’t say anything, or even look at him, he was too busy sketching what looked like a circuit board in a secondary notebook. Jason quickly wrote down the notes before the slide changed, not looking forward to a disappointed look from his tutor.

Surprisingly, he ran into Danny as Red Hood once more that week. He was doing surveillance on a rooftop, when a sound caught his attention from the fire escape. Jason dipped back into the shadows and around the concrete and brick entrance from inside the building as a familiar mass of unruly black hair appeared and Danny hauled himself up with a surprising amount of finesse for someone who didn’t look muscular in the slightest.

“Damn it. Where’d you go guy? I thought I saw you land here.” Danny grumbled to himself, hands on his hips as he looked around “stupid not a bat disappearing just like the real ones…” While Jason was certain that he wasn’t meant to hear that, he finished his route and appeared almost behind Danny.

“What do you need?” He asked, thankful for the voice modulator as he knew Danny would have recognized his voice by now even if muffled by a helmet.

As it was, Danny startled with a yelp, swinging around and aiming a punch right for his solar plexus. Jason caught his wrist with practiced ease. “Fuck! Don’t scare a guy like that!” Danny yanked his arm back in a way that was meant to break unpracticed holds. Clever.

Jason waited while the kid caught his breath. “Well?”

“What? Oh. Uh. The guy. That…” Danny mimed the stabbing. “Is he okay?”

“Checked himself into the hospital about two hours later. He’s fine.” Oracle’s voice sounded in his ear. He nodded.

“Good, good…” Danny pushed his hair out of his eyes again, looking up at Jason through his helmet. Jason was hit with the disconcerting thought that somehow Danny was seeing through the bullet resistant one way visor. “Um… do you need the knife back? Or…. Should I….keep….it….? Or dump it? What’s…. I don’t know the protocol here, but I think ‘hey officer I was stabbed with this knife and the not-a-bat down in Crime Alley beat him up and then I accidentally stole it’ is a bad one.”

Jason snorted at the rambling, while Oracle laughed in his ear. “Even static filled he seems hilarious. I know why you like him.” He was going to kill Babs next time he saw her. “Knowing what he looks like doesn’t hurt either.”

“I can take it for you.” Jason said instead.

“Great! Wait here.” Danny turned and hopped back over the edge of the fire escape with the ease of someone who had years of training or practice.

“Is he like this all the time?” Babs asked, and Jason shrugged.

“Off and on.” Jason answered, sliding back down the fire escape completely silently as opposed to the obnoxious clatter Danny had made. He had seen and heard Danny move silently, like in the library, even on those creaky metal ladders for the top of the stacks, but he just assumed this was some sort of half assed survival mechanism.

Danny appeared again a few minutes later, with the knife wrapped in a towel in a bag. “I didn’t know how you wanted it so…” like Danny was bringing him coffee or ordering a pizza. Jason opened the bag and took the knife out, examining it.

“Good job kid. Now go home. It’s late.” It was barely ten. But he knew the Alley got more dangerous the later it got.

“Yeah. Okay.” Danny turned.

“Red Hood.”

Danny turned back. “What?”

“My name. Not-a-Bat isn’t as effective at striking fear into the enemy.”

Danny scoffed some. “I don’t need to use you as a shield.”

Jason held up the knife. Danny crossed his arms. “that was under control.”

“Right.”

“It was.”

Jason shook his head and pulled out his grapnel, firing it into the distance. As he swung off he had more questions about Danny than he was sure he would ever have answers.

[hana-no-seiiki]

This is generally such a stupid ask but I feel like it would be.. Chaotic? At the very least amusing

Anyways

Batfam x Nicole from Class of 09! Reader

Do what you want (etc make it romantic or platonic, doesn't matter)

Just the batfam (yandere ofc) dealing with a chick who loves to ruin lives for her amusement and sometimes for revenge

Istg she'll just bully them at any chance she gets

~ 🕒

I just binged watched Class of ‘09 and all its endings/choices for you non. I don’t think I can fully depict how brash wittiness of Nicole is but here I go! (I am so traumatized) Didn’t know that’s where “No I’m flirting with you flash me a tiddy bitch” came from no wonder Nicole sounded so familiar.

btw if people are interested in watching class of ‘09 just be warned it’s basically a VN version of Degrees of Lewdity but the mc is actually a minor (without the sex/r*pe mechanic though) and it depicts a lot of just… pedophilia, necrophilia, assault, su*c*de, school shootings, racism??, BE WARNED.

The following content above ^ might be mentioned in this fic but in passing. MASSIVE DDDNE WARNING.

I don’t think I’m comfortable writing stepcest/incest in this blog so despite how perfect it’ll be to make Bruce your step father considering Nicole’s mom has divorced like a hundred times…maybe ask me in @yoru-no-seiiki and I’ll be down for it.

THIS IS ADMITTEDLY TIM + DAMIAN CENTRIC

“Do you even care? Do the results of your actions mean anything to you?”

“Yeah when they affect me, sure.”

You were a bitch. There was no denying that. But you were a pretty one. One many would grovel to be under.

You were used to this, ever since you reached a certain age people just looked at you different, acted in a way that… made you think they were boring, utter losers.

One of those losers was Tim’s friend.

Like all the stupid, horny men in your life, you hung out with him once and he spilled everything there was that you could share.

To the entire campus, the internet, even the news.

And because you were pretty, you got off scot-free. Those morons didn’t even check to see what you’ve been doing the past decade.

Except Tim. Timothy Drake. You only knew that his dad was super rich, and as much as it was tempting to sink your teeth into him and get a load of that daddy’s money, you knew better.

He apparently didn’t.

You see there was one thing every batfam member couldn’t resist. Well, two things. The first was saving people.

The second? Fixing them.

When Tim first approached you he was confused.

You were quite the popular figure in Uni. He heard the rumors. He fully expected to be cussed out to hell and back.

But you were… nice. Agreeable at most really. Brash was an understatement. But you were witty. Your comebacks were swift and deadly.

The more he studied stalked you the more he realized that the two of you were the same.

Two bright people stuck with dull idiots.

And Tim? Tim interested you enough for you to not to completely drop him after the first week. That and most of your bullying probably wouldn’t bode well towards the son of a billionaire.

He was smart, even more so than that nerd friend of his that you destroyed the life of. But more importantly he actually had some tact, and was surprisingly packed underneath all those baggy clothes.

Tim had to admit he was kind of forgetting his entire purpose of ‘fixing’ you.

Until you manipulated yet another guy into jumping off a school building for you. Thankfully he survived because Red Robin happened to be there to apprehend him but still!

And what’s worse, you met up with him afterwards talking about how that Red Robin ruined all your plans of crippling a r*pist.

Wait, a r*pist?

Tim looks through your past victims once more. Admitted he only did a surface level job of studying them in comparison to his PhD level knowledge on everything about you specifically.

And…you were right. Every guy you’ve harassed was being pushy with you in the first place, if not people with authority a decade older.

Fuck.

Well now he had no excuse. He had to make you his.

Meanwhile…

“Ugh, Damian. Can’t you tell your brother to like, fuck off or something? I can feel my social standing totally plummet every second he’s around. How do you handle being related to him?” You groaned. You weren’t fucking stupid. You knew Tim was stalking and drooling all over you lately. You hated it. He was ruining your chances with your new victims.

“Jeez [Y/N]. And here I thought you were like, into him.” Jessica, your actual crush and best friend, commented as she filed her nails.

You being the emotional stunted adult you were only replied with an (admittedly softer) “Eat a sandpaper cock and die bitch.”

Damian stared at you, the words die before they crawl out of his mouth. His hands clenched underneath the lunch tables.

Guess he had another thing to steal from his brother this time.

[hmslusitania]

Ask meme! For TimKon, either 17. “Please stay.” or 34. “When did you know for sure?”

May I offer you: an angst with a happy ending? (who am I kidding; it's you, of course I can)

“When did you know?” Kon asks, staring out well past the horizon. Tim thinks that surely, he must see it, must be able to tell, he’s got fucking super vision of various sorts, but… But he sounds so dejected about it. Like he… like he hadn’t been able to tell. “For sure, I mean, when did you figure it out?”

“Um,” Tim says, and picks up a handful of sand on this very not-at-all real version of Kon’s favourite beach in Hawaii. “Last… night.”

Kon’s face burns bright red and Tim can’t really look at him anymore.

It all feels too real, even though this place isn’t anything of the sort.

And he’s pretty sure that includes Kon.

It had been a smart plan, Tim can tip his hat at the villain du jour for that, at least metaphorically. Trap Tim in a simulated reality, but instead of making it somewhere he knows inside and out, like Gotham, like Happy Harbour, they’d programmed him into a place he only knows in story and rumour. Tim wouldn’t really have any way of determining if there were differences between the real Hawaii the real Kon’s been talking about for as long as Tim’s known him, and this fake, simulation of it. And the programmers had done a pretty perfect job with Kon, too, except for the parts where he can’t tell that this whole place is a simulation, and the part where…

“My Kon, I mean the one who’s not a computer programme, because, like, he’s not mine, mine,” Tim starts. “He’s not… y’know. In love with me.”

Kon is silent for a minute, just staring out at the water and at the small waves lapping steadily higher up the beach while the sun rises. Tim would find this whole conversation a lot less excruciating if computer!Kon was wearing more than boxers with the House of El logo on the crotch, but, well, this simulation was designed to trap and torture him, so he’s not.

“I don’t feel like a computer simulation,” Kon says finally, and buries his toes in the sand like he’s making a point of feeling the sensations. “I remember — I remember meeting you when you were still Robin and I didn’t know who I was beyond Superman’s replacement, and I remember Bart, and Young Justice, and Cassie, and the Teen Titans, and dying and—”

“They probably built you off a brain scan of the real Kon,” Tim says. Tact and gentleness have never been his fortes but, fuck he tries this time.

“Right, and just, like, tweaked my memories so that I can remember being in love with you half that time, and the entire time I was lost in Gemworld, and—”

“Yeah, I guess they must’ve,” Tim says, even though it makes him want to puke. “This place is too… it’s too perfect. You’re too perfect.”

Kon scoffs, and makes a choked off noise that’s all too familiar after last night and Tim flushes with shame that he knows what Kon sounds like now. The thing is, it’s a very, very good simulation, and this isn’t knowledge Tim should have, because out in the real world, Kon doesn’t want to share that information with him.  It’s none of Tim’s business, no matter how desperately he wants it to be.

“Nice to know I’m apparently good enough in bed to convince you it’s all too good to be true,” Kon says, with forced bravado.

Tim swallows, because that assessment isn’t untrue, but it’s only part of the story. “Also I think my biometrics must’ve spiked high enough to temporarily overload the system, because a bird clipped through our room while we were, uh…”

“Oh,” Kon says, blushing even harder. “So, um, now that you know this is fake, does that mean you’re going to escape?”

“Yeah,” Tim says. He swallows. “I just have to crash the programme, make it generate something so insanely huge its processing power can��t keep up.”

“Oh, right, just that,” Kon says. He very gamely swallows, and because he’s built on a very convincing facsimile of Tim’s real Kon, he stands up and nods. “So what do you need me to do?”

**

Tim is not surprised when the explosion they trigger in the simulation tips him out of it’s destabilising pixelated mess into a sketchy futuristic lab. Spaceship? Probably spaceship by the black starfield outside the windows.

He is surprised when his own exit from the gel couch matrix situation is echoed by someone else in another matching chair thing behind him.

He grabs for any kind of weapon available and rounds the central structure, ready to strike, only to find himself face to face with—

“Kon?” he demands. “You’re here too?”

Kon defuses the heat vision that had been starting to build behind his eyes, and then just stares at Tim, blushing a violent red like the heat vision had dispersed through his cheeks.

“Of course he is here too,” an annoyed voice that gives major evil scientist vibes says over the PA. “The simulation traps work best when there are two parties within them to reinforce the shared folie à deux!”

“Sh-shared?” Kon asks.

“Both of us were in the same—” Tim starts, and he understands Kon’s blush better now because he can feel his own viciously taking over his face.

“You thought I was a simulation,” Kon says, floating out of his matrix plug in chair to loom over Tim even taller than he usually is.

“You’re in lo—” Tim starts, but their captor’s voice crackles over the PA system again.

“Yes, yes, teenaged angst. You may continue your argument once my assistants have placed you back in your simulation!”

“We’re twenty-one, actually,” Tim corrects. “And you can—”

He means to tell the disembodied voice exactly where he can expect Tim’s bo staff (as soon as he finds it in one of the cargo pods here in this space station situation they’ve got going on) but Kon cuts him off by pulling Tim’s face into his hands and kissing him.

No birds clip through the walls this time, and the sensation of Kon’s TTK sweeping over him, like it’s not enough to just be touching Tim with his hands, like he has to touch all of him at once, is one that Tim hadn’t been able to fully conjure up out of his imagination. It’s different enough that Tim actually forgets for a second that they’re imprisoned on a space station and have been under for god knows how long, and he seriously considers simply climbing Kon like a tree right then and there to get the actual physical details mapped out.

“I can’t believe you thought my love confession was a simulation,” Kon murmurs against Tim’s lips.

Tim hums and kisses him again. Really, actually kisses Kon. Who really, actually wants to kiss him, too. “I meant it when I said you’re too good to be true.”

“Good thing we’re in a really shitty situation we need to figure our way out of if we want to get back to earth so I can show you the real version of that beach,” Kon says. “Because that part feels pretty on par.”

“Yeah,” Tim agrees, and sighs. He can hear the distant thuds of whatever sorts of robocop automata their captor has coming towards them now, and this fight’s gonna kinda suck, he thinks. At least there will be one hell of a reward for making it through to the other side. “Ready to fight for our lives?”

“With you?” Kon asks, and can’t help himself but to pull Tim in for one more kiss. “Always.”

[fluentmoviequoter]

A Room Away

Requested Here!

Edit: Part 2 Here

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: Tired of Tim's bad moods, Angela gets him a new roommate: you. As Tim gets to know you and learns about your past, you slowly become more than his roommate.

Warnings: mentions of past domestic abuse (reader and Tim), reader has chronic migraines from past head trauma, nightmares, reader has a panic attack, angst, fluff, Nyla and Angela. (roommates to lovers)

Word Count: 4.2k+ words

A/N: Parts of this are so self-indulgent. The migraine depictions are based on my migraines, but I think they're some of the most common symptoms. I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think! (I'm still trying to get Tim's character down, so apologies if he's OOC.)🤍

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Picture from Pinterest

Tim sits in the back of the room for roll call, his arms crossed tightly across his chest as unimpressed sighs escape him. Angela is getting tired of his seemingly perpetual bad mood. Clearly, he’s lonely, but he will never admit it. And that loneliness makes him mopey and broody (Angela’s official motto for Tim Bradford) until he has enough and snaps at someone.

Sitting at her desk, Angela watches Tim yell at a boot. He’s always harsh with them, trying to prepare them for anything, but now he’s using them as punching bags for his forbidden feelings. 

“What’s his problem? He’s grumpier than usual,” Nyla says as she joins Angela.

“He’s lonely,” Angela answers. “Won’t admit it or do anything about it.”

“That man needs a girlfriend,” Nyla muses.

Angela sits up straighter and smiles. “You’re a genius, Harper.”

“I know.”

Angela opens a website on her computer, and Nyla pulls up a seat to watch her intervention into Tim’s personal life.

“You’re going to rent out his spare room without telling him? This’ll be fun to watch,” Nyla says, laughing.

“He has way too much room for just one guy. Getting him a roommate and a girlfriend will surely help with.. that,” she finishes, gesturing toward Tim.

“A roommate and a girlfriend, or a roommate who becomes a girlfriend?”

“Either should work.”

“That’s your number.”

Angela nods, putting her contact information on the listing. “Tim would shut it down after the first call, so I’ll interview them, run background checks, whatever, and find the perfect one.”

“Well, Mrs. Right is always found on Craigslist,” Nyla jokes.

“This isn’t Craigslist.”

“Semantics.”

Angela posts the listing, and she and Nyla hope getting Tim a roommate will help nudge him out of his bad mood. He needs someone to talk to and bond with, but he’ll never come to that conclusion on his own. Which is why Angela considers herself to be such a good friend.

���✯✯✯✯

Los Angeles is a big city, which is part of why you chose it without another thought. Full of opportunities and a chance of fading into the background, it’s the complete opposite of your home, which overflows with memories. The patched drywall you were pushed into, the stained tile where you thought everything was going to end, and the china cabinet with the shattered glass are left behind and traded in for a minimum wage job, a used car, and a lot of panic that you won’t be able to find somewhere to live.

You’ll need a roommate until you can save enough money for your own place. However, finding a decent place with a decent roommate is nearly impossible in your price range. Browsing online listings, you see one that could be promising. The information at the bottom says there is an interview process, which catches your attention. Sending a text to Angela Lopez, you cross your fingers for good luck before walking into work.

By the end of your shift, Angela has replied and asked you to meet somewhere nearby. You want to go home, a dull headache building at the base of your skull impairing your mood. But you also really want a better place to call home than the pay-by-the-month motel you’re currently living in.

Angela gives you a firm handshake as she introduces herself as an LAPD detective. She asks questions about your life, job, hobbies, and finally, why you moved to Los Angeles.

“I just needed a change of pace; was ready to leave my old life behind, find something bigger and better,” you answer, a simplified version of the truth.

Trying not to show it, Angela immediately takes a liking to you. Each of your answers solidifies her gut instinct that you’re a good fit for Tim. You ask why her name was on this listing if it’s not her house, and she follows your lead and gives you the truth, but not all of it.

“Tim, the owner of the house, is a coworker and friend, and I’m just trying to help him out while he’s busy with work,” she explains.

As you leave the meeting, Angela gives you her personal number, as well as someone named Nyla Harper’s number, “just in case you need anything.”

She texts you a time and address, telling you to meet her at your new place the following afternoon. You thank her repeatedly before driving to the trashy motel one last time.

✯✯✯✯✯

Parking outside the house, you fall in love with the neighborhood and the cute architecture of the home. Angela meets you in the driveway, seeming more nervous than excited. You realize she may not have been totally honest with you as you follow her to the door.

An incredibly handsome man opens the door, sighing when he sees Angela. He lets both of you in, seeming to trust Angela completely.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim knows he will regret opening the door, but the woman with Angela is beautiful, and deep down, a small part of him wants to know who she is and why she’s on his doorstep.

“This is your new roommate,” Angela announces, giving Tim your name.

“You didn’t,” Tim responds. “Please tell me you didn’t rent out my spare room without asking me, Lopez.”

“I won’t tell you that, then.”

Standing quietly to the side, you anxiously watch their argument.

“Um, sorry,” you begin, interrupting them. “But I can go, and find a new place, since this is clearly not what you signed up for.”

You move toward the door before stopping when Angela demands, “Don’t go anywhere.”

She gives Tim a stern look before cocking her head to the side. He sighs like he has accepted his fate, a tragedy based on his reaction. Gesturing for you to follow him, he gives you a quick tour before showing you to your new room and bathroom.

“I’m not home a ton, but when I am, I’m usually watching a game or just hanging out, so,” he tells you before trailing off.

You nod before promising, “You won’t even know I’m here.”

Tim wants to believe you, but he also thinks you’re pretty and kind enough that he wouldn’t mind seeing you occasionally.

✯✯✯✯✯

You cross paths with Tim a few times in the first two days of living with him. He’s struck by your beauty each time but recognizes that you don’t open up willingly, so he never presses you to talk. Content to be ships passing in the night, Tim gives you a nod before continuing out the door.

It’s your third night in the house that Tim learns your reserved qualities may not be as simple as a personality trait. Waking when he hears a strange noise, Tim listens in the darkness before deciding it’s your footsteps he hears. Based on the sound, you're pacing, so Tim gets out of bed and walks to the kitchen. He walks right past you, and you give him an apologetic smile before slowing down. Tim makes you a mug of calming tea, sliding it across the kitchen island before sitting beside you as you drink it. Suspecting you had a nightmare or some similarly disturbing experience, Tim reminds you where you are and that everything is okay in his own way.

Over the next week, you wake him up a few more times, thrashing in your bed or exiting your room once you wake. He nudges each time, offering to let you talk about it, but you never do. You always apologize for waking him, thank him for keeping you company and making you tea before you disappear back into yourself and into your room.

✯✯✯✯✯

You’ve lost count of the days and nights spent in Tim’s house, your sense of time thrown off by the continued plague of nightmares and the monotony of your days. As you wake up after a surprisingly dreamless sleep, you immediately turn your face back into the pillow. Your heartbeat pounds in your head, and everything seems brighter and louder. The migraines have been nearly as consistent as the nightmares since before you left for Los Angeles. 

Tim knocks on your door, and you groan as the sound echoes in your brain. He cracks the door, concerned that you aren’t up yet.

“Are you okay?” he asks, seeing your current state.

“Migraine,” you answer. “I called in sick.”

He closes the door to block the light from outside and lowers his voice to ask, “Do you need anything before I leave?”

“I’m okay. Thanks.”

“Well, call me if you do, or if anything changes, okay?”

“I will. Thank you, Tim. Have a good day.”

Tim nods, even though you can’t see him, before backing out of your room and exiting the house as quietly as possible. He keeps his ringer on, looking at his phone every few minutes as his concern for you remains at the forefront of his mind.

Angela and Nyla notice his usual grumpy disposition seems to have been replaced with concern for something, or someone. After he checks his phone for the fifth consecutive time, Angela decides to pry.

“How’s the beautiful roomie? Still just a roommate?” she asks.

“She’s not feeling well,” Tim answers.

Angela waits for an elaboration, but Tim doesn’t offer one. She looks at Nyla, who gives a knowing look. It’s obvious that Tim is softening toward you, but you haven’t made enough of an impact that he’s less grumpy or snappy. As the day continues, his usual personality returns, convinced that you must be okay, or you would have called.

The next day, after learning that you are, in fact, feeling better, Tim is back to his pre-roommate levels of anger and high strung-ness. To worsen his mood, you wake him up with a nightmare but refuse to let him in, not even acknowledging his kind questioning as to how you are. He’s worried about you because you welcomed his presence before, but he is also angry that you changed so quickly, and now you don’t trust him. Everything is piling on, and Tim isn’t sure how much more he can carry.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Just tell me something,” Angela presses.

“Stay out of it, Lopez!” Tim yells, his emotions reaching a boiling point. “I didn’t even want a puppy- a roommate! If you like her so much, why don’t you take her in?”

Angela waits for his shoulders to drop slightly before asking, “Timothy… is this because you don’t like her, or because you do?”

Tim’s jaw clenches, and his nostrils flare as he turns away, offering to go on patrol while Nolan and Celina go to the shooting range. Everyone seems to think they know Tim better than they do; Angela is pushing him toward you while you’re distancing yourself, and the push and pull is tiring.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim waits in his truck in the driveway for a few minutes before walking in. When he walks in, you’re standing in the kitchen. He hasn’t actually seen you since the day of your last migraine when you stopped trusting him, and your sudden willingness to be in the same area confuses him. Anger and confusion rarely mix well; with Tim, it’s a fatal combination.

You notice his tension and knitted brows, chewing your bottom lip before asking, “Are you okay?”

Stumbling to his tipping point for the second time in the day, Tim takes all his anger and confusion over his feelings out on you.

“What do you think? You can’t decide if I’m worth trusting with something as small as a nightmare, and Angela thinks that I’m practically neglecting you,” he begins.

You swallow harshly as his voice rises, stumbling backward when he starts moving his arms. 

“Especially considering I didn’t even want you here!”

Flinching, you snap your eyes closed and catch yourself on the corner of the wall. Tim freezes as he watches you. Everything begins snapping into place in his mind: your nightmares and the distance added to your reaction to him yelling and moving his hand are all signs he should have noticed sooner.

Your chest is heaving as you take short breaths, and when you finally open your eyes, you look terrified. Tim steps back, keeping his hands where you can see them. You focus on him as you slide down the wall, cradling your head in your hands as you fight off bad memories and a growing headache.

Tim watches you before sitting on the floor, keeping his distance. He waits for you to calm down, willing to let you decide whether or not you want to talk to him. You finally look back up at him, but he doesn’t move.

“I- I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“Can I come closer?” Tim asks.

You nod, and Tim slides across the floor, not wanting to stand up and look any more imposing than necessary. His knee presses gently against your thigh, and when you don’t move, he gives you a small smile – the first you’ve ever seen.

“I’ll leave in the morning,” you say, fiddling with your fingers.

“Please don’t,” Tim replies, shaking his head. “I’m really sorry. I wasn’t mad at you, just angry with a long day. But that’s no reason to yell at you or act like that. You confused me, and I didn’t know how to deal with it. That’s on me.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat.

“Don’t. When I was younger, my dad took his anger out on me sometimes. I’m sure I deserved it once or twice, but I also know better than to treat people like an emotional outlet. If you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

You nod before saying, “My ex.”

Tim feels a protective surge at the idea of anyone hurting you, let alone doing it enough times that yelling pushes you to the point of a panic attack.

After comforting you with proximity and kind words, Tim offers to walk you to bed. Your hand brushes his as he opens your door, and you smile as you thank him for everything. It’s a minor change in your relationship but an important one.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim leaves before you wake up the following morning, determined to find out as much as he can about you and your past. He’s not necessarily being nosy, but he wants to know if there’s anything specific that could help or hurt you.

“What do you know?” he demands as he storms up to Angela’s desk.

“About what?” she replies, raising her brows.

“What do you mean ‘about what’? Her!”

Nyla leans back in her chair, glad to watch the unfolding drama.

“Tim, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Angela explains.

“Why’d she move to LA?”

“Are you seriously trying to find something wrong with her? That’s low.”

Tim moves around her desk, dropping his voice to answer, “I’m trying to figure out who thought it was okay to put their hands on her. Because she won’t let me in.”

Angela begins connecting the dots you left untouched. You ran from the person controlling your life, not your actual life. She knew that you were omitting something during your initial meeting, but she didn’t expect it to be so big.

“Have you been open with her?” Angela asks finally. “Because that’s a two-way street. I’ll talk to her if you want me to, but she trusts you, Tim.”

“How do you know that?”

Nyla’s eyes bounce back and forth like she’s watching a tennis game. She sighs before deciding to interject. “She told her! Sent her a text one night!” she calls out, smiling and waving when Angela and Tim look at her.

Tim nods, giving Angela the closest she’ll get to an apologetic look before leaving.

✯✯✯✯✯

Returning home, Tim is surprised to find you on the couch, in your work clothes, with your face pressed into a pillow. You wave your fingers without moving to acknowledge him, and he remains silent as he walks to the kitchen.

“You don’t have to be silent, it’s your house,” you mumble. “I’ll figure out a way to get to the bedroom.”

“You’re fine here,” Tim answers, setting a glass of water beside you. “Another migraine?”

“Skull fractured from getting my head pushed through a window a few months ago,” you explain with a sigh. “The migraines have gotten worse since then.”

Tim lays a hand on your shoulder, giving you plenty of time to tell him not to touch you. You don’t, relaxing under his touch instead. Tim takes a seat beside you, hoping to comfort you once more.

“Your ex?” Tim asks. 

You hum a yes, and Tim’s jaw tightens, even as he comforts you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Walking into the police station, Tim’s wallet is tucked safely in your bag. Approaching the front desk, you say your name and are wordlessly handed a visitor’s badge before someone gives you directions. You don’t have time to argue, shrugging as you attempt to remember where to turn. Angela sees you before you see her, rushing to your side and looping her arm with yours.

“What are you doing here?” she asks happily.

“Uh, Tim forgot his wallet. I was just going to drop it off, but they sent me back here,” you answer.

Tim says your name, coming around a corner, and Angela pushes you toward him, joining Nyla as they watch your interaction.

“You know she was trying to get you a girlfriend and not just a roommate, right?”

Tim nods a thanks as he accepts his wallet, glancing over at your audience. “I’m half-tempted to make them think I kicked you out.”

You smile brightly, and Tim licks his lips to keep his smile from mirroring yours. His eyes tell you more than enough, and you’re happy to see him, too.

“Do it,” you whisper. “Just let me know when so I can play my part. Angela told me to call her if you were ever mean to me.”

“Have you?”

You don’t answer, opting to wink at him before stepping back. Waving at Angela and Nyla, you leave the station as they rush to Tim’s side. As they ask overlapping questions and talk about how cute you and Tim look standing together, Tim ignores them before walking away.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim is pulled from his sleep by your panicked yell. He leaves his bed and barges into your room with no thought. His heart rate slows when he sees your teary face and tangled sheets.

“Sorry,” you mutter as you wipe your tears. “I just don’t know how to make them stop.”

Tim sits beside you, opening an arm toward you. It’s a bold move, especially for him, but you take his offer and curl into his side.

“Are- did you mean it when you said I could talk about it?” you ask.

Tim nods, and you tell him more, but not everything. You remind yourself that he’s your roommate and maybe, just maybe, he's your friend, but he’s not here to listen to all of your baggage.

“The last thing he said before I left was, ‘there is nowhere you can go that my love won’t lead me to find you.’”

“You know that wasn’t love,” Tim replies, waiting for your nod before continuing. “And I’ve got your back, Angela and Nyla are right here, and we won’t let anything happen to you. No matter what.”

Drifting back to sleep in his warm, safe embrace, you finally learn what it’s like not to be scared.

When you wake alone, neither you nor Tim acknowledge what happened. You’re okay with slow changes, as long as there are changes.

“Tim,” you say, interrupting him on his way out. “Thank you. For last night.”

“I’m only ever a call away,” he reminds you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your head starts aching around noon, quickly worsening into a full-blown migraine. When you’re ready to go home, it’s bad enough that you can’t drive. Sitting in your car and resting your head against the steering wheel, you want to call Tim but can’t find the strength to move.

Tim, meanwhile, returns home and begins wondering where you are. He calls, and you don’t answer, so he lets his worry control him as he gets back in his truck and drives your usual route. Tim hopes to pass you or find you waiting as someone changes your tire. When he gets to the parking lot of your job and sees you slumped in your car, he has to fight not to panic.

Rushing to the door, he’s both grateful and concerned that it’s unlocked. He kneels beside you, saying your name before bending to see you. Your eyes are tightly closed, but tears are still leaking out. 

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says.

You whimper as he picks you up, clinging to him until he lays you down in the backseat of his truck, buckling you in as well as possible.

“Hospital can’t help,” you mumble.

Tim wants to argue, but remembers what you said about the skull fracture. You’ve already been to the doctor, so maybe getting you home and comfortable will be enough.

After a nap partially influenced by unbearable pain, you wake to see Tim sitting by your bed.

“Why are you so nice to me? You didn’t even want a roommate,” you mutter sleepily.

Tim smiles, making you think you’re hallucinating. “Yet I got something better.”

✯✯✯✯✯

You don’t quite make it to work the next day. Walking into the station, you’re surprised when Nyla greets you first.

“I’m assuming it’s a joke,” she says.

You furrow your brows in confusion before you see Tim leaning on a desk with his arms crossed while Angela yells at him.

“Unless he really kicked you out,” Nyla adds.

You nod, walking towards Angela and Tim.

“No, you don’t get to blame me! I got you a roommate, a friend, a beautiful woman who could have been more than a friend, and you’re mad at me?” Angela exclaims.

Tim locks eyes with you, not changing his expression as he gauges whether or not her yelling is upsetting you.

“Can I talk to you?” you ask Tim.

Angela steps back, hoping to hear Tim apologize, but he stands up and gestures for you to follow him without speaking. Worried that you’re sick again, Tim waits silently.

“I’m okay,” you promise. “I just wanted to see you.”

Not believing something so simple, Tim shakes his head. “Tell me what happened.”

“I saw a guy who looked like him while I was driving to work. He was yelling at a girl outside of a diner, and it made me nervous.” You keep your eyes on the floor, but Tim gently raises your head.

“You’re not alone, and I know that things still seem uncertain, and probably will for a long time, but you don’t have to be afraid of anything while I’m here.”

“Then why’d you kick me out?” you tease with a pout.

Tim shakes his head, telling you to go before following you out. You wipe an imaginary tear before waving at Angela.

“No, you’re not leaving,” she says, grabbing your shoulders and steering you toward her desk.

Nyla smiles at Tim, and he sighs before following.

“Tell me exactly what happened between you two,” Angela commands.

You look past her before tensing, and Tim immediately catches on. He follows your line of vision and sees Nolan and Celina booking someone. You shrink in on yourself, and Tim moves to block your view.

“Get her out of here,” he tells Angela.

Angela doesn’t wait before obeying, ushering you into the bullpen and out of sight.

“What’s the charge?” Tim asks Celina.

“Assault. Beat up a woman outside a diner,” she answers.

Tim’s jaw tightens at the knowledge that this man made you nervous this morning, reminding you of your ex. He hates abuse in every situation, but when you’re involved, his protectiveness and anger differ. Tim leaves before saying or doing something he’ll regret.

When he finds you in the bullpen, he takes one look at you before hugging you. It’s quick, but Angela and Nyla look at each other in shock.

“So, you’re good?” Nyla asks.

“We were never bad,” you reply. “Just wanted to get back at Angela for trying to set us up.”

“It worked?” Angela inquires excitedly.

“Not yet.”

“Not yet?” Tim repeats, looking over at you. He shrugs as he concedes, “Okay.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When Tim gets home, he drops his stuff by the door, raising his arms in question as he looks at you. “Not yet? What is that supposed to mean?”

“You haven’t made a move. How do I know you’re not just protective and caring under that handsome, gruff exterior?” you ask with a shrug.

Tim shakes his head, cupping the back of your head gently as he kisses you. You raise your hands over his chest to hold his jaw, pushing yourself closer as you reciprocate his every move.

“Because I don’t protect just anyone like this,” he says against your lips.

You kiss him again before asking, “Does this mean you can reduce my rent?”

Tim rolls his eyes, tucking you against his side where you’re safe from everything and everyone. 

[brucewaynehater101]

I'll admit I love the dadification of Tim by bruce, but I also love tim being much more of a perfectionist and being more efficient than Bruce.

And Bruce would say he loves it- but like. He now sees the problem with working with himself.

__________

A mission goes completely sideways, and it wasn't as if it was the first time it happened. In fact, in the end, they still fulfilled their objectives... just... not in the way they were supposed to do.

"...are you mad at me?" Bruce asks, fingers holding on to the bat-steering wheel so hard he could swear they were white under his black glove.

If he was with Jason or Dick, he'd know his answer. 'No, I'm not mad. I'm disappointed' because it was a gentle answer. It was the right answer. He was a father, a trying one, at least. He could be gentle. He could be nice.

Tim, however, could not.

"What do you *think*, genius?"

Bruce flinches. It's been a while since he felt the familiar signs of tears in his eyes. He forces himself not to cry. He was a *grown man*, he refused to feel shamed by a 15 year old's scolding - a rough glove strokes at the wetness on his cheek.

Tim sighs. "Bruce, cmon. Don't cry. I promise I'm not mad at you, okay? I just-- I got in a bad mood and it was wrong of me to take it out on you. I'm sorry, okay? You did great, Bruce!" Tim smiles at him.

Bruce hears himself sniffle. *God*. He can't believe he's crying. Tim's eyes widen in a panic. "Hey, hey, cmon! No more tears, big guy! I'll ask Alfred to whip up some of your favorites, how about it? And if he can't do it then we can always just order out, right? What do you want, Bruce?" Tim hits the autodrive and wraps his arms around him.

He cannot believe he's crying in a teenager's arms right now.

"We'll be home in a bit, and you did a great job, I promise. I'm not mad at you, in fact! I'm proud!" Something feels lighter in Bruce's chest. He squishes it down.

Tim takes off Bruce's cowl and strokes his hair. "Repeat after me, I did good. Say it Bruce."

"...I did good." Bruce grumbles, leaning into Tim's touch.

Tim smiles at him teasingly. "Didn't hear you, B. Say it louder."

Bruce frowns. "I did good." He says firmly.

"Good job, B!" Tim laughs.

The batmobile slows to a stop in the cave. "Oh look, we're home." Tim remarks casually, as if he didn't have an armful of a teary grown-up. "Let's go, Bruce. You go wash up while I update the logs."

Bruce nods.

Tim walks off to the computer, and for the first time in a long while, Bruce feels small and happy again.

Fuck. I love how this highlights that Tim wouldn't be a perfect father, especially considering some of his "bad" habits or behaviors. He'd try and he'd correct, but, like all parents, he's bound to mess up every once in awhile. It happens. The best part is that Tim corrects his behavior, admits fault, and tries to make up for it.

Good parenting, Tim! (genuine)

We could add on that Tim is a teenager. Emotions are heightened because puberty is a fucking asshole. So, he may occasionally take his frustrations out on Bruce (in this AU). He may suddenly burst into tears, worrying Bruce, or feel the intense need to scream.

He's not gonna be the best fantastic dad (especially since he really shouldn't be parenting an adult as he's a teen), but he's gonna try.

It'd also be cool to see Tim, in learning to gentle parent, eventually gentle parenting himself and teaching Bruce to utilize the same methods with his kids (also, I can go on a full fucking rant on how it shouldn't be named "gentle parenting" cause it's really "paying forward parenting," but I'm not gonna).

Anyways, the scene you wrote was really sweet and I very much enjoyed it

[guilty-pleasures21]

The bodyguard

Sorry this took a while ... 😅

Bodyguard!Jason x Actress!Reader

Part 1

Part 2

Warning: intimate touching.

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

     “Jason!” she yelled as she sank onto the sofa with her tub of ice cream. “It’s on! Quick!”

     He sighed as he walked over to the sofa and took a seat at the opposite end to her. “You know, you don’t pay me enough to watch this.”

     X shot him an exasperated look. “Then start paying me rent.” 

     She’d hired him as her bodyguard about three months ago and she liked to think that they’d at least become friends in that time - hanging out at secluded restaurants in the middle of the day, watching trashy reality shows after dinner, sneaking off to the supermarket at midnight, when no one would see her. She hadn’t known anyone in Gotham when she’d arrived - she’d only gone there to shoot some scenes for her latest movie, after all - and it was nice to have made a friend along the way. She shuffled closer to him, searching his person for a spoon as she held the tub of ice cream out to him, then she sighed when she saw that he hadn’t brought one. She handed him the tub with an exasperated look, then got up to go get an extra spoon.

     He lowered his head as he accepted the tub, trying to hide his smile. He hadn’t planned on this being a full-time gig when he’d applied for the job. Tim had suggested it to him when they’d been playing video games one night and though he’d scoffed at the idea at first, he’d slowly become convinced by it: being the temporary bodyguard of the quickly rising starlet while they filmed in the area. It seemed easy enough - a perfect fit, actually, considering all his martial arts and weapons training. And it paid pretty well too. Plus, she’d started letting him stay over at her apartment once she’d gotten more comfortable around him and he had to admit that he didn’t hate her place. He glanced up at her as he accepted the spoon she’d returned with, trying hard to not let his eyes flicker to her chest, but she just sat back down beside him, oblivious to his near lapse in self control. He’d expected her to be beautiful, of course - you didn’t become the heroine of a movie without having some sort of physical charisma that drew people to the screen. But what he hadn’t expected was how down-to-Earth she’d be: kind and welcoming and always ready for a laugh. That was the part that was starting to wear on him. He slid his gaze over to her as she scooped up a bite of ice cream, her features illuminated by the soft glow of the television. She snickered at something someone had said and he smiled softly before letting go of his thoughts and settling in to watch the show with her.

     “Cut!” X held in a frustrated groan as the director yelled for them to stop - again. They'd been working on the same stupid scene for the last hour and she still couldn't get it right! Either her moans were too loud or she was wriggling around too vigorously or her expression wasn't ‘lustful enough’. How the hell was she supposed to know how to fix that last one?! She stayed on the bed for a moment long, delaying the inevitable scolding she was about to receive. Finally, she sucked in a deep breath and sat up.

     The director pinched the bridge of his nose and took a moment to consider his next words.

     “Let's take a break,” he sighed finally. “I need a drink.” He stalked off the set before anyone could approach him, grumbling quietly under his breath. X's co-star turned to her in amusement and held a hand out to help her off the bed. 

     “Thanks,” X said as she accepted Sam's help. But she was careful to avoid his gaze as she covered herself back up with her robes: he'd acted in scenes like this a hundred times already, having been in the industry long before she had, and here she was making his job unnecessarily more difficult.

     Sam shuffled awkwardly in position, trying to figure out how to comfort her. It was pretty obvious that it was her first time doing a sex scene, but she was so sweet and so hardworking and he didn't think she deserved the constant scolding she'd been receiving from the director. 

     “Don't take it to heart. You're doing great!” He patted her reassuringly on the shoulder, but she kept her head lowered as her cheeks warmed with embarrassment.

     “Right,” she mumbled, unconvinced by his kind words, before retreating to her dressing room.

     Jason followed after her, concerned by her dip in mood. The director hadn't said anything that didn't seem true, but he still felt like punching the guy in the face for making her feel so bad about herself. He locked the door behind him after entering the room, wanting to give her a little privacy, then he joined her where she was standing by her dresser. X remained hunched over the table in silence and Jason rubbed his jaw while he waited for her to speak, suddenly noticing how hard he'd been clenching it whilst she'd been working on that scene with her co-star. Was it really necessary to include a sex scene anyway? It didn't do anything to further the plot. And this was a soon-to-be Hollywood blockbuster hit, not some undistinguished piece of pornography buried deep in the archives of the internet! He unclenched his jaw - again - and inhaled slowly before clearing his throat. “X?”

     She sighed and slumped over her dresser table, defeated. How was she ever going to get her big break if she couldn't even act like she was in love with someone?! Well, ‘love’ was probably the wrong word - she was fine at acting in love. It was the ‘lust’ part that she was struggling with.

     “I just … I just …” She covered her face with her hands as she turned to face him, her entire body heating up with shame. “Ugh! This is going to sound so embarrassing!”

     Jason raised an eyebrow as he folded his arms across his chest, but he waited patiently for her to continue. X sucked in a few breaths, gathering her courage. Then finally, “I’ve never … I’ve never done it … before …”

     He furrowed his brows, confused by her vague revelation. X looked up when he hadn't responded, wincing in anticipation of the look on his face. But he just looked … confused. 

     “Done what?” Jason asked when she didn't elaborate. X's eyes widened, surprised that he didn't get it.

     “You know …” she insisted, her voice growing softer and softer with each word. “Had … sex …”

     And now it was his turn to have his eyes widen in surprise.

     “Oh! Okay …” He took a moment to consider her confession … but it didn’t make any sense: she was so hot! So pretty and so sweet. How the hell had no one ever tried it on her before? “Why?”

     “Why?” X repeated, her tone incredulous. “What do you mean ‘why’?”

     Jason shrugged, then gestured to her general being. “I mean … you’ve either got to be really picky or just … have crap taste in men.”

     “What?” X narrowed her eyes at him, puzzled by the statement. Jason waved away her concerns.

     “Never mind. It’s not important.” 

     An uncomfortable silence soon settled around them as they both tried to figure out what to say. Then X decided to break the tension. “Have you … done it before?” 

     Her heart thudded with nervous anticipation as she waited for his response. She wasn’t sure why, but she was terrified to hear his response: to imagine him with some other woman when … when she’d never been with anyone before. But what did it matter to her? It wasn’t like they were … dating or anything. The thought didn’t stop her insides from twisting with unease though.

     Jason pursed his lips in thought. Had he ever been with anyone before? Given himself over to someone like that? Been so intimate with them, allowing them to see all his scars and his pain and his vulnerabilities? Of course not! No way in hell! “No.”

     Now it was her turn to be surprised - even as a wave of relief washed over her at his admission. A wave of relief she didn’t want to acknowledge given that he’d never indicated any interest in her whatsoever. Not as anything more than a friend anyway. “Why?’

     Jason shifted in position, starting to get uncomfortable himself. 

     “Because of the coma?” he reminded her. That was the lie he’d told her: that he’d gotten into an accident a few years ago and then spent the subsequent time training himself back to peak physical health. She'd wanted to learn more about it, but he'd said that he still wasn't comfortable delving into all the details, so she'd left it alone. She was so compassionate like that.

     Her features light up with realisation. “Oh! Right! Okay. Cool.” 

     She nodded to herself as a spurt of delight rushed through her at his confession and Jason raised an eyebrow at the smile he noticed she was trying to hide from him. He studied her for a moment, her features pinched with nerves, then an idea sprung to his mind about how he might be able to help her. He ran over to switch off the lights, plunging them into darkness without any explanation.

     “Jason!” X hissed, lowering her tone to what seemed appropriate for their new situation. “What are you doing?”

     He took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the sudden lack of light. Then he began making his way back to her. He pressed her back against her dresser, placing one hand on either side of her. Then, before he could regret his decision, “use me.”

     Her heart thudded in her chest at his suggestion. He couldn’t really be offering what she thought he was offering. Could he? “W-What?”

     “Use me,” he repeated, gesturing to his body before he could lose his nerve. “Use my body. Get to know what it feels like. I won’t … I won’t kiss you. Or touch you! If you don’t want me to. Just imagine I’m someone you really like and just … just get to know what it feels like.”

     His voice grew soft as he imagined what it would feel like; having her soft body pressed against his, her expression dazed with lust, her sweet voice moaning his name desperately. He leaned over her, focusing on his breathing to try to slow his rapid heartbeat, and waited.

     She raised her hands and carefully placed them on his shoulders. Was that why he’d switched off the lights? Because he hadn’t wanted her to see his face? Because he didn’t know that the only person she really liked … was him? She turned her face to the side, trying not to inhale the clean, masculine scent of him that made her stomach flip. “But … why?” 

     He could see her gaze flicker up to his now that his eyes had properly adjusted to the dark and shit, she was cute. With her round eyes and her curly lashes and her rosy lips that quivered with nerves. F*ck. He was regretting his decision already. “Because you’re too good of an actress to let something … stupid like this hold you back.”

     He really thought she was a good actress? X smiled with delight at the praise, not realising that he could see the way her lips twisted at the ends. “Okay …”

     She inhaled deeply, slowing down all her internal processes, then she fixed her gaze on his lips. He’d said that he wouldn’t kiss her, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t admire how soft his lips looked; imagine how they would feel against hers. She slid her hands down his chest and her stomach somersaulted when she felt his abdominals clench at the same time that he let out a soft gasp. Holy shit, he was hot.

     Shit, shit shit! What the hell had he been thinking? Offering himself up to her like that?! He liked her - he really liked her - and he’d become comfortable enough with her to want to know what it would feel like, having her hands glide across his bare skin, her lips caressing his scars, her body pressed up against his as they explored one another with equal caution. X traced the outlines of his abs through his shirt and another gasp escaped his lips as her fingers hovered dangerously close to his suddenly aching centre. She curled her fingers around the waistband of his jeans, biting her lip as she thought about what she’d like to do next, then she wrapped her arms around his waist.

     “Sh-Shit …” Jason breathed. He gripped onto the edge of her dresser as she snuck her fingers beneath the hem of his shirt and glided them up his back. God, it felt good being touched.

     Wow. She could feel the muscles in his back rippling as she trailed her fingers along them. She'd always admired the way they'd flex whenever he was teaching her self-defence or when they were working out together and she couldn't believe the day had finally come when she could get to feel them herself! She leaned forward, tugging him closer to her at the same time, and her lips landed on the collar of his shirt. She curled her fingers against his back, frustrated by the interruption, then she slid her hands back down to his waist. “Jason … Can I take it off?”

     He sucked in a breath at her hoarse whisper. She’d said his name - she’d used his name even though he’d told her she could imagine him as anyone she’d ever wanted. This was getting dangerous now - it was getting real. He nodded slowly, then realised that she couldn't see him very well in the dark. So instead, he bent over to murmur in her ear. “Okay.”

     Her stomach fizzed at the slight nerves she could hear clouding the gravelly tone of his voice. He sounded so cute when he was nervous! Was he as nervous as her though? And for the same reason? Could he really like her like she liked him? She slid her hands up his torso to take his shirt off and her chest tingled as her fingers brush over the curved planes of his body. He laid his hands back on the dresser once she was done and she took her time trailing her fingers across the defined lines of his abs.

     His stomach tightened at her featherlight touch and he gritted his teeth against the feeling. He closed his eyes as she pressed her lips to his collarbone, not wanting to think about the fact that it was her who was kissing him, touching him so intimately, so gently. But then she ran her hands up his back and moaned softly against his chest and his brain went numb for a second at the sound of her pleasure - at the feeling of her luscious body pressed so tightly against his. F*ck, she felt good. 

     She whined as he started moving his body against hers, his stiff cock pressing against her throbbing hole. God, she needed him - she needed him so bad! With his soft voice and his beautiful eyes and that one smile he only ever reserved just for her. She moved her hands to the back of his neck and let out a choked gasp when he rolled his hips against hers. “J-Jason …”

     “F*ck,” he muttered under his breath. He picked her up like she weighed nothing at all and set her down on her dresser so she could wrap her legs around him. X untied her robe and sighed with relief at the feeling of his bare skin sliding against hers. She closed her lips around the soft skin at the crook of his neck and dragged her fingers down to his shoulders as she sucked on him carefully. Jason let out another soft curse and X giggled against his neck before licking and sucking her way up to his ear.

     God, she could feel herself getting so wet between the legs as he rubbed himself against her front. X wriggled her body even more vigorously as her desire for him crescendoed, trying to slide her underwear off so there were less layers separating them. “Jason! Jason!”

     A gravelly moan rumbled out of his chest as she slid her fingers into his hair and began teasing his earlobe with her tongue. In response, he lowered his head to her shoulder and grabbed her ass in one of his hands, squeezing her tighter against him and causing a soft squeak to escape from her lips.

     “Shhhhit.” He pulled back to look at her and his gaze immediately fell to her lips, parted with desperation as she rolled her hips against his. He bent over to press his mouth to hers, unable to take it anymore … Then someone knocked on the door and they both came crashing back down to reality.

     “Miss X?” one of the PA'S called through the door. “Are you ready to start shooting again?”

     She looked up at Jason with an expression of both horror and embarrassment. Then they both scrambled to tidy themselves up. She avoided looking at him as she raced over to the door, but she hesitated before unlocking it. 

     “ThanksJasonIreallyappreciateit!” She yelled the words all in one breath then ran out the door and back to the set.

     He stayed in the dressing room for a little longer, trying to process what had just happened. His body still burned in all the places that she’d touched him - all the places that she’d run her hands over - but she’d just been practising right? He started making his way back to the set as well, but he couldn't shake the little voice in his head that kept pointing out to him how she’d said his name.

     Sam’s chest heaved with shallow breaths as he looked down at X in shock. Shit! How had she gotten better so quickly?! He could still feel the adrenaline buzzing through his veins from the way she’d trailed her lips along his neck as she’d run her hands all over his body. F*ck.

     She furrowed her brows, confused by Sam's reaction. She glanced around at the other staff, bracing herself for another barrage of criticism … but they were all staring at her with the same expression. She turned back to Sam in question and he shook his head slightly before shooting her a grin.

     “Cut!” the director finally exclaimed, pulling everyone out of their reveries. Sam stood up and offered a hand to X, helping her get off the bed.

     “Was I … really that bad?” X asked, cringing as she let him pull her to her feet. Sam smiled. She was pretty cute when she was curling into herself shyly like that. And funny too. He hoped they’d continue to be friends even after filming had ended.

     “No!” he replied quickly, rubbing her back reassuringly. “You did great! You’ve got to tell me your secret: how did you manage to improve so quickly?!”

     X grinned at the praise, then her stomach dropped as she considered the answer to the question. It took everything in her to stop herself from looking over at Jason, standing at the edge of the set like he always did. He was always there when she needed him. Even for things that were definitely not in his job scope. 

     “Thanks,” she told Sam, letting her hair fall over her face to hide her blush. But eventually, she turned to glance at Jason, unable to resist the urge. Her heart sped up in excitement when she saw him already looking at her, his moss green eyes dark with lust. A shiver ran down her spine and she wrapped her robe tighter around herself as she pulled her gaze away from his. “But … Do you mind if I go change first?” 

     “Oh! Yeah! Right!” Sam tapped his head like he was silly for not having thought about it himself. “Of course. You want to grab some coffee after? Jason can come too.” He gave her bodyguard a friendly wave and Jason responded with a nod of greeting.

     She gulped at the mention of his name. But wait, this was a good thing! If Sam was there, then she wouldn’t have to be alone with Jason so quickly!

     “Oh! Yeah! I’ll ask him!” X shuffled over to him and fidgeted with her fingers awkwardly as she stopped just in front of him. “Um, Sam was asking if you wanted to get coffee?” She flicked her eyes up to his and bit her lip as she waited for his response.

     God, she had the most beautiful eyes: big and dark and framed by thick, curling lashes. His eyes fell to her lips and he swallowed hard as he remembered how soft they’d felt against his skin. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

     He dragged his gaze away from her and clasped his hands behind his back, reminding himself again how she’d called his name as she’d run her hands all over his bare skin. 

     “Great! I’m just gonna go get changed.” She scurried off to her dressing room and some of the tension eased from his body. Shit. How the hell had he f*cked things up so badly?! Argh! He was such an idiot!

[luvly-writer]

His Solace

Dick Grayson x reader

Author's note: I wrote this for the sole purpose of wanting to read it later. Literally for my own guilty pleasure. LMAO

Warning: It's cute?

---

Dick had a headache. He had just gotten to his apartment. He had spent a few days at Jump City helping Kory with a few things for the Titans. Normally, he wouldn't have minded but seeing as she took the opportunity to call him out on whether he was ever choosing Barbara or her; he was exhausted. Then, he was called to Gotham to aid Bruce in the development of a case with Scarecrow. It would have been fine, again, if it weren't for Jason and Tim trying to rip each other to shreds because of a petty argument; Damian antagonizing Stephanie; and to put a cherry on the top, Barbara wouldn't stop leaving very pointed comments on the same thing Kory had asked him. He had tried to contact Wally, see if they could go out and have some fun, ease his mind a little, but nop, on a mission with Barry. Finally, he had gotten home, when Bruce called that Damian, Steph, and Jason had decided to team up in their latest recon and it had been a disaster because no one followed orders. He could feel the agitation bubbling and rising with his stress levels. The cases had begun piling up, the villains would just not stay in Arkham, the alarm of the remainder of his Young Justice meeting kept beeping, could feel the panic attack rising.

"Fuck it. I'm taking a vacation."

---

You took a deep breath with your eyes closed and exhaled. Yeah, this is what you deserved. You had been dying to go to Bali and after many months of hard work, you had piled enough days to get a one-month vacation. The life of a Public Relationist was a hassle. You were damn good at your job but it was starting to strain your mental health. Burnout was approaching faster and faster. As you walked towards the pool, you looked for a few seats available and noticed one in the perfect spot. As you approached it, you noticed that the most gorgeous man had been sitting in the one next to it. Beautiful tanned skin, soft dark hair, and dazzling blue eyes.

"Is this seat taken?" You asked with a bright and warm smile. Dick felt his heart drop at the sight of you. You were honestly one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, and he had been around aliens and demigods. Your hair was tied in a loose ponytail, your bathing suit hugged you in all the right places, and you were standing there giving a smile that left him breathless.

"Not at all, go ahead" he responded with his own smile. You placed your things down and pulled out a book and some sunglasses.

"Any good?" You heard him ask pointing toward your book

"So far so good, I just began reading it last night" she answered with a sheepish smile, "If I see you again, I'll keep you updated"

He chuckled and extended his hand, " Di-Richard" He hesitated in giving his name. He was in Bali for a whole month, next to a beautiful woman who had no idea who he was. No expectation to be the charming eldest of the Wayne household and no need to put on a mask as Nightwing. Yeah, he was gonna enjoy this small freedom.

"Y/n," she said as she shook his hand, "You don't look like a Richard" She continued making him scoff out a laugh.

"No? Why's that?"

"Richard sounds like an old serious guy in his 40's"

"You don't think I could be serious" he leaned forward with a slight smirk on his face

"Maybe, but, unless you keep a very good skincare routine, you don't look past thirty"

He laughed out loud and shook his head, " So, what's your hypothesis?"

"You have a nickname that suits you better"

"Dick"

"Excuse me" She looked at him with a hint of teasing in her eyes and a small smile.

"My nickname is Dick"

"I don't know which one is worst" she giggled and he looked at her incredulously. He laughed at that, it had been some time since he was able to feel light with some mindless teasing.

"Oh come on, as if you could come up with something better"

"Hmmm" She took a moment to think and he took it as an opportunity to really look at her. She had such a unique beauty, like those faces that stay in your mind for months, unforgettable. "What about Ric?" He scrunched his nose in distaste, "Richie" He shook his head with a laugh, "Ricky" He stopped to think for a moment and inevitably said no again. "Well, Dickie, I have absolutely no clue" She laughed.

"Dickie's nice," he said softly, and she hummed in victory.

They had spent the rest of that day talking when huger started to strike, he invited her for dinner and she accepted surprisingly. They had spent the rest of their vacation together. Hanging out, taking tours, swimming together, dining together, and even sleeping together. Dick hadn't felt so light in a long time. They clicked so well. They weren't taking this seriously because it was just a vacation. Soon they would have to go back to their lives, hers in New York and his in Gotham. Finally, the vacation was coming to an end. The morning before her trip back, they had decided to stay in her room and have a lazy morning, just enjoying the last moments together. They were lying in the bed, him on his back and her with her torso on top of him. She was softly caressing his hair as he caressed her back.

"I think I'm gonna miss you," she said softly.

"You think?" he teased and she looked at him exasperated. He chuckled and pulled her closer. "Oh honey, I know I'm gonna miss you" he pulled her closer and he felt her relax in his arms.

They had exchanged phone numbers a while back. Even though Gotham, Bludhaven and New York weren't that far away, they still had their own lives to attend to. They had agreed to remain friendly, without a title and a definition. Just each other's Bali vacation sweetheart.

A few months later…

Dick refused to cut contact with you. Given your demanding lives, you couldn't talk every single day, but he made the effort to. Daily messages and flowers sent to your apartment were a constant. When you did talk, it could go on for hours. Dick hadn't told anyone about you. It was his sweet secret, his solace. After one rough week, in particular, he had called you desperately, wanting to hear your voice and laughter. There was a small voice in the back of his mind that called him pathetic, but it was gone the second you answered the phone. He had been hurt, bad. His family and all of his leadership roles were getting to him and your sweet soothing voice cracked him. He started crying and blabbering, asking if he could see you. You agreed almost instantly and that weekend he took a train to New York.

When he got to your door, you saw the state he was in, deep eye bags, and an arm brace. You pulled him into a big hug and he just crumbled in your arms. That night, he confessed he was Nightwing. He just let everything out as he laid in your bed, in your arms once again, and you let him. He found peace in you, your touch, your voice, your friendship. You never asked him for more and it soothed him. For once, someone was on his side and didn't expect something from him aside from himself. He had told everyone he was following the lead of a case in New York, a few had offered to go with him and he refused. The only lead that he was following was the case of how much he missed you.

You were his solace. He came to you for counsel, for comfort, for laughter, for fun, for love. In return, he made sure you never felt anything other than loved, appreciated, and satisfied. Even with the distance, he still went the extra mile. Dick Grayson wasn't a bad lover, but for you, he gave himself fully. You guys still hadn't placed a label. You were just friends. You understood that you had responsibilities that needed your full attention so a relationship would complicate everything. You loved New York, he loved Bludhaven and Gotham. It was final. Until it wasn't.

Dick had barely gotten any sleep last night. Patrol ran even longer last night and he only got one hour of sleep before his alarm rang. He had gotten a headache halfway through his shift and decided to go to Brandy's and get some coffee. You hadn't answered his text yet, which was odd. Sure, you both didn't talk on the phone every day but you always texted. Maybe you were caught up with a few clients. He knew there was one that was making your job three times more difficult than it should be. As he was waiting for his order, he heard the beautiful and unmistakable sound of your voice.

"Dick?"

He turned around and there you were, standing with a suitcase and a shy smile. He swore his headache left the moment he laid eyes on you.

"Sweetheart? What? How?" he asked laughing and pulling you into a big hug. They called his order and he picked up, telling you to order something and he'd pay. Once you got your order, he pulled you into one of the booths.

"I wanted to surprise you" You answered with the sweetest smile, he swore his heart melted.

"You should have given me a heads up, gorgeous, I would have made time for you and cleaned my apartment. I could have given you a proper welcome to Bludhaven" He laughed and took one of her hands in his. He sensed she had something else to tell him.

"It's alright. I have some exciting news though," she bit her lip nervously, "I was offered an amazing position here in Bludhaven. It pays double what I earn now and I would have a higher position. I'm here to have a meeting with the executives, check out the offices, and go through my contract. Isn't that great?" she told him and he swore he heard angels sing. Y/n. His Y/n! She was going to be in Bludhaven! He wanted to cry, scream, anything to liberate the joy he felt. If she was here, then they could be together.

"That is amazing news, gorgeous! This..this..this is wow..I think whoever is up there finally started to listen to me" he joked making her laugh. He squeezed her hand adoringly. Y/n was going to be in Bludhaven and he felt utterly giddy.

Three months later…

BANG BANG BANG To be honest, Kory was tired and at this point, it was getting humiliating. Last night, she had been passing through the living room in the tower and overheard some of the members talking about a supposed bet. When she asked them what it was about they all quieted down and looked at each other nervously. Putting a stern face, she asked the team about the bet once again fearing that they had gotten into trouble. Finally, Gar spoke up and explained. Together with the Young Justice and the Outlaws, the youngest members had decided to start a bet on who would Dick choose for this year's Christmas Annual Wayne Ball. Would he go with Barbara or Kory? Hearing this was a breaking point for Kory. She meta-tubed straight to Batcave in search of Dick. Having not found him, she looked for Barbara and questioned if he was with her. Kory informed the present members of the family of the bet and heard a sheepish confirmation from Tim and Damian. Agitated, Barbara decided to accompany Kory to Bludhaven and obligate Dick to answer finally.

That led us to our current predicament, where both women stood knocking on his apartment door harshly. As they went to knock again, someone finally answered…and it was not Dick.

"Um, hi? May I help you?" a young beautiful woman in an elegant short black dress greeted them. Barbara and Kory looked stunned, not knowing what to say.

"Oh! Sorry, I think we got the wrong apart-"

"Babe, who was it at the door?" Lo and behold, Dick Grayson appeared exiting one of the rooms all dressed in black. Once, Y/n stepped back, he stopped walking and froze.

"Barbara? Kory? What are you both doing here?" He asked slowly. Something clicked in Y/n's face and the two girls realized that she finally knew who they were. Sensing the awkwardness, Y/n excused herself.

"I'm gonna go finish getting ready, okay? You're good here?" She asked touching his arm and squeezing it reassuringly. He kissed her temple and soon she disappeared through one of the doors.

"You can come in…" he said letting Kory and Barbara step through the door. His apartment looked different, they noted. It was renovated and more stylish. It didn't take a genius to know who was responsible for the sudden refinement in his "bachelor" pad.

"Who is she?" asked Kory, straight to the point. Dick sighed. Sooner or later, he would have had to reveal and introduce Y/n to his family and friends. He just wished it would have been later and by his terms.

"She is my girlfriend"

"For how long?" Barbara asked this time

"Three months"

"So it is still fresh and new?" Barbara observed. Dick had had girlfriends between the moments he had been with Kory or her, but they were never serious. They usually lasted up to five months or so and would usually grow incredibly jealous of one of the two.

"Not really" He answered tightly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

"We have been kind of something for almost a year now. We just made it official three months ago." He answered resigned. They were not going to let this go.

"A year? How- Whe- What?" Kory and Barbara exchanged puzzled looks. "And you were able to just hide it from the entirety of your social circle? How?" Kory asked

"Does Bruce know?" Asked Barbara

"No…I...was hoping to introduce her to everyone sometime before the Ball" He said, scratching his head. "She is going to be my date after all."

Barbara took a deep breath, analyzing the situation. Kory just looked at him perplexed, expecting more to come out of his mouth. Barbara narrowed her eyes at him. "Explain."

And so he did. He was as brief as he could be. Not wanting to get into too much detail. By the time he was done, Y/n excited the room. Makeup, hair, and heels done. Kory stared at you as Barbara interrogated Dick. You gave her a bright smile and extended your hand.

"Y/n L/n. A pleasure to meet you" Kory shook your hand and gave you her full name. Then you turned towards Barbara. You extend your hand and greet her as well.

"As lovely as this is, Dick we have to get going. If we get there late, I am never hearing the end of it from Charlotte." She laughed. Dick stood up quickly and went to look for his keys and wallet. She turned towards them, "Maybe you could come by tomorrow? We have to get to the engagement dinner of a friend of mine and I would love it if we weren't late." She said with a soft smile.

Neither Kory nor Barbara could sense any sort of malice behind her words. Barbara assessed her. She seemed relaxed, posture straight, and at ease. Unlike many of his ex-girlfriends, she didn't look intimidated by them at all. Dick excited their room as Barbara and Kory were about to exit. Y/n turned to look at him and he came closer. He wrapped his hands around her waist and she wrapped hers around his neck.

"You have a lot of explaining to do with your family tomorrow" she warned him with a laugh.

"Yeah, yeah, can't wait" He responded sarcastically and rolled his eyes. Kissing her on her shoulder he turned towards Barbara and Kory who were still observing him.

"Babs, we'll talk about this tomorrow. I'll go to the manor and we can meet at the cave. Kory, I'll call you later, okay?" He promised. Both women nodded and left.

"I guess my sweet secret won't be such a secret anymore" he groaned and the girl pecked his cheek gently.

"It was gonna happen sooner or later, gorgeous. Plus, I'm kinda excited. I want to meet your family." She said softly. He looked at her and smiled. As long as she was here, He would be fine. He just hoped they wouldn't scare her away.

"Come on baby, we don't want Charlotte to tease you about how ever since you got a boyfriend, you never get early to things" Hearing her groan made him laugh.

---

Author's Note: This took longer that I though but idgaf, this is literally so self indulgent that I love it. I kinda wanna write a part two of the family meeting reader but idk. If its requested then I probably might. What do you guys think?

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Kamala Harris herself has now borrowed Walz’s lingo and is also calling her opponents “weird”, while Walz is all over our television screens, bolstering the vice-president’s candidacy and playing “attack dog” against the Trump/Vance Republican ticket. I’ll be honest: last month, I would have struggled to pick Walz out of a lineup. This month? I’m Walz-pilled. I have watched dozens of his interviews and clips. And I’m far from alone. He has an army of new fans across the liberal-left: from former Bernie Sanders 2020 campaign co-chair Nina Turner, to one-time Democratic congressman Beto O’Rourke, to gun-control activist David Hogg. “In less than 6 days, I went from not knowing who Tim Walz is,” joked writer Travis Helwig on X, “to deep down believing that if he doesn’t get the VP nod I will storm the capitol.” According to Bloomberg, the Harris campaign has narrowed down its “top tier” of potential running mates to three “white guy” candidates: Walz (hurrah!), plus the Arizona senator Mark Kelly and Pennsylvania governor Josh Shapiro. Both Kelly and Shapiro have their strengths – and both represent must-win states for the Dems. Allow me, however, to make the clear case for Walz. First, there’s his personality. The 60-year-old governor would bring energy, humor and some much-needed bite to the Democratic presidential ticket. There’s a reason why his videos have been going viral in recent days. Tim Kaine he ain’t. Pick the charismatic and eloquent Walz and you have America’s Fun Uncle ready to go. Then, there’s his résumé. A popular midwest governor from a rural town. A 24-year veteran of the army national guard. A high school teacher who coached the football team to its first state championship. It’s almost too perfect! Finally, there’s his governing record. You will struggle to find a Democratic governor who has achieved more than Walz in the space of a single legislative session. Not Shapiro. Not JB Pritzker of Illinois. Not even Gretchen Whitmer of Michigan. [...] Think about it. Democrats can have Tim Walz on the ticket, who called the anti-war, pro-Palestinian ‘uncommitted’ movement “civically engaged” and praised them for “asking for a change in course” and “for more pressure to be put on” the White House, or they can have Josh Shapiro, who called for a crackdown on anti-war, pro-Palestinian college protesters and even compared them to the KKK. They can have Walz on the ticket, who has reportedly “emerged among labor unions as a popular pick” after signing “into law a series of measures viewed as pro-worker” including banning non-compete agreements and expanding protections for Amazon warehouse workers, or they can have Mark Kelly, who opposed the pro-labor Pro Act in the Senate (but has since touted support for it). They can have Walz, who guaranteed students in Minnesota not just free breakfasts but free lunches, or Shapiro, who has courted controversy in Pennsylvania with his support for school vouchers. They can have Walz, who calls his Republican opponents “weird” and extreme, or Kelly, who calls his Republican opponents “good people” who are “working really hard”. This isn’t rocket science. Walz is the obvious choice. Not only is he the ideal “white guy” running mate for Harris, against both Trump and Vance, but he is already doing the job on television and online, lambasting Vance in particular over IVF treatment and insisting he mind his “own damn business”.

Zeteo News founder Mehdi Hasan for The Guardian on why picking Tim Walz as Kamala Harris's running mate is the best option (07.29.2024).

Zeteo News founder Mehdi Hasan wrote in The Guardian why Tim Walz should be Kamala Harris’s running mate. Hasan’s opinion piece is worth reading.

[theredcuyo]

Huh

You know those AU/fics where the kids met earlier?, like, Dick is just old enough for Damian to be a baby kind of situation and somehow they all met and get adopted within no time from each other and all that

Well, i think the perfect dynamic for a fic will be this one:

Dick

He wasn't happy at first. At all. He went from a life of a single child to older brother of like 4 or 5 now?? In like, less than a year.

He didn't even have time to adjust to Jason before he found little Tim following him around in patrol. Not time to get around that little stalker child before Jason found a lost girl in need of help who couldn't talk. No time to even get a hold of signs when Talia came to drop a baby on Bruce.

The worst part? While he can't get around it, because he's still dealing with his grief, and anger, and why does it seem like B gets tired of his last child every week, where does that leave me, And why do this kids that i barely know look at me with eyes that say they'll follow me to hell and back-

That's the thing, his new sibblings follow him like newborn duckies, they observe and copy, and do everything he does except to leave him alone. And he's not sure how to feel about it.

He's overwhelmed with all the attention, with how this house that used to be silent has become anything but that.

And also, he can't go up to the chandeliers now. The babys try to follow behind him and he knows that non experienced people shouldn't do that. That also sucks.

Wally is making fun of him. That's one sibbling for every time you complained about not having any, he says.

He gets used to them as time goes on tho, he couldn't imagine a day without Jason coming to his room to tell him an over the top sight into the book he mentioned to have to read for class.

He can't imagine not to see tiny Tim bright up every time they see each other in the hallway.

He even forgets to actually talk sometimes instead of signs because Cass just wants to spend so much time with him and they both practice the signs a lot.

Damian is the weirdest baby ever, but he's the only member in the family who doesn't complain about being hugged for long times, at least not yet, so that's cool.

Jason

He's just happy to be here.

He didn't knew what exactly a family was, and when he found out there was another kid there, he felt a bit more safe, they could team up if it was necessary to protect themselves against the adults.

The closest thing he had to sibblings before where other kids in the streets that helped each other out, the older kids got jobs at convenience stores and sometimes they'll leave out food for them, you had to protect the youngest.

He was happy to have an older brother, and Dick clearly knew what he was doing, so everything was good.

And then he found Tim inside a trash can when he was allowed in a recon mission. He was so, so tiny, like the other kids he had met, and he knew the little thing needed protection from the world. He also had a camera with pictures of B and Robin, and that was probably important.

But whatever, two sibblings instead of none now had to be a jackpot! He did feel bad sometimes about B getting tired of him because of Tim, but, at the same time, he loved that little gremlin so much he could forget about it.

Until he wasn't so sure when Tim found a lost girl wandering around town. (He isn't Even allowed to go out alone, whats wrong with him?) don't take him wrong, Cass is great, she joins them in pranks and in spying on Dick, but she also doesn't let him forget that she's older than him (just a few months damn it!) but it's just-

She's just so much better than him too. She can't read, he has her on that, but that's all. She's stronger than him (she beated his ass in training at least twice now), she's faster, she doesn't cause problems, She's smarter than him for fucks sake.

So, why-

Why would B still want him around with this kind of upgrade?

It's not like he can ask tho, B is been very busy since that lady came to give him a baby. Literally.

And, sure, Damian is a weird ass baby, the only one he's seen that doesn't cry for most things. But he likes the little guy, he just hopes he'll still be here by the time he learns how to walk.

Tim

Tim didn't expect to be caught. He also didn't expect for it to be the new kid who found him, and as if there was anything else to surprise him with, said child auto proclamed himself as his big brother from now on.

He didn't knew if his parents will like that, because the didn't like children, not even him sometimes, but when they came back the next week and the police arrested them for working with black mask and tax evasion they didn't even ask to see him, or tried to when he reached out, so he couldn't ask.

Jason did become his brother tho, when Mr. Wayne adopted him after that, the same Mr. Wayne he knew was Batman. Huh.

Well, anything was better than an empty house, and now Robin was his-

OH GOD ROBIN IS HIS OLDER BROTHER NOW.

FUCK HIS PARENTS. HE LIVES WITH HIS HERO NOW. HE WILL OUT AS MANY CRIMES OF THEM AS NECESSARY.

Tim was overjoyed to know this. Everything was nice, Dick was cool, he didn't talk much with them, but he's Robin, nothing's cooler than that.

And Jason does spend time with him, he loves beating his ass in maro kart.

And then he found Cass when he went out to buy a new camera, he wasn't allowed to go out alone, but it wouldn't be for long, they wouldn't notice surely.

They did notice, but the good thing was that it saved him from taking Cass home on his own.

She's nice too. He never had a sister (or brother too) before, but he likes her, she helps him find hide spots around the manor.

Who he doesn't like a bit is the baby. That Demon spawn.

First he appears out of nowhere. Second, he only seems to cry when someone is talking to Tim.

What is wrong with that thing.

He also follows him around for some reason, and grabs his shirt, but if Tim tries to look at him or hold him he cries. Really, what's wrong with this baby?

Like, sure, Bruce did have him by accident, and so did Tim's parents, but the fact that Damian's did want to keep him around and pay attention to him didn't give him any right to be like this.

It's not like he's better than them, B adopted them all out of a sense of duty.

Cass

Suddenly, communicating is a thing.

If she has something to say it's that she's happy. She got a baby brother, two actually. And a Big brother. And then a very baby brother.

And a Dad that loves her. And a granpa that feeds her anything she wants except for burgers. But dad buys her a burger in the secret if she tells him.

She likes spying on Big brother. She likes learning to read with baby brother big, and to hide with baby brother tiny.

She likes to stare at very baby brother. He stares back.

So everything is good.

She's happy.

Damian

Baby Damian tolerates his family. He let's Dick hug him, and Jason carry him around talking about who knows what until he falls sleep.

And gets into staring contests with Cass.

But the one he really likes is Tim. He likes to have his attention, and he doesn't like when he doesn't have it.

But he also doesn't like to fully have it, he gets overwhelmed.

Basically, baby Damian wants Tim's attention but not too much.

The family also makes a bet on who will make Damian laugh first.

They all lose when it's Tim, even Tim loses because he had all his money on Dick.

Because apparently, his presence comforts him when he misses Talia.