#jason grace x plus size!reader

[lixzey]

HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYYY! Can I pls request a mood board for Jason Grace x plus size!Aphrodite reader?

THANK YOU AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN <3

i'm in love with you, and all your little things !

“You've never loved your stomach or your thighs. The dimples in your back at the bottom of your spine, but I'll love them endlessly. I won't let these little things slip out of my mouth, but if I do, it's you, oh, it's you, they add up to. I'm in love with you and all these little things.” - Little Things, One Direction.

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

Hii !! From the smut prompts (stop rolling your eyes, I know Im predicatable!) could I request "Accidentally Sending Nudes", "Sexting" and... a secret third thing (the choice is yours, go hogwild) for Jason x Fat Fem Reader? I'm leaning more towards sub!reader but shes def a little shit about it :3

Thank you in advance if you write it !! 🌼

See, this is why it pays to send in a request with me, because even if I don't answer it right away, I keep requests in my inbox for months and come back to them later!!! (This is from December 2023)

(Also this request is just plain fun) (because Star knows exactly what buttons to push to get me lmao)

DC Titans Requests - OPEN

How would Jason react to you accidentally sending him a nude?

(Jason Todd x Fem!Thick!Reader)

Warnings: set specifically in the Titans!verse - set during season 3/mentions of season 3 plot points; spoilers for major plot points of Titans (including character deaths on the show); this is kind of enemies to lovers? (enemies to fwb, I guess); the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; the reader is described as being fat/plus sized; passing mentions of Gar x reader (I couldn't help myself); dubious consent - because of the nature of the trope, Jason sees the reader naked without her explicit consent, and he decides to keep the picture without her consent - but it does spark a consensual sexual relationship between them; passing mention of using nudes for blackmail (that does not happen); this isn't really proofread; (generally, I consider this post to be a fucking mess because it was written in Tumblr but I was still trying to have fun with it lmao.)

...

Jason is minding his own business when it happens.

(For once in life, he is fully, completely, minding his own business.)

He's back in Gotham and he hasn't seen you in months - and if asked, he would say that he hasn't thought about you. He doesn't have time to think about you because he's been too busy with this therapy bullshit, training, trying to get back his title of Robin. Trying to get back in the cape. (And trying to get back in Bruce's good graces.)

But that's not exactly true. He's thought about you a lot.

(Most of those times have been with his hand around his cock, but again - he won't admit that.)

There is an occasional time that you cross his mind and it's because he's wondering genuinely how you're doing - wondering if you're well, how your training is going, wondering if you're doing okay under the Dickhead's reign. But he can't ever pluck up the courage to text you and simply ask. Because that would be admitting that he cares, and that would make him look like a weak little prick.

And that's why he's so damn surprised when you text him first.

He hasn't heard from you since he left the Tower (well, since he stormed away from Donna's funeral in what you called a 'toddler fit' - something that ended in a rather vicious text argument between the two of you). In fact, the last thing in the text history between the two of you is you calling him a 'giant, petty, whiny baby who can't deal with his own emotions'.

(You had no clue what had happened between him and Rose, so that did inform a lot of your opinion on the matter.) (And that was probably the reason why Rose still had all of her teeth after you had seen her at the funeral.)

But all of that was aside from the point.

The point being - Jason found himself smiling when your contact name popped up on his phone.

He has you in his phone as 'Pretty Girl' - along with a contact picture of you sticking your tongue out at him in response to having his phone shoved in your face with the knowledge that he was taking a picture of you. (That tongue always makes him think certain things, so even though you intended for it to be some rude thing to ruin the picture, it makes it so much better for him.)

(1) new photo

That instantly catches Jason's attention.

Perhaps you were sending him a picture just to flip him off, or sending him a picture of a dumpster to ask him if it reminded him of home - a common joke you used to make when he still lived at the Tower.

Jason grabbed his phone and opened the message, expecting another tired joke, and-

Holy fuck.

The last thing he was expecting - your naked body. Your gorgeous naked body.

(He likely would have expected a nuclear blast or for the Joker to clean up his act and actually become a decent, sane citizen before he expected this to happen.)

Jason brought his phone closer to his face, making the picture full screen in order to examine it better - he needed to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating, or that this wasn't some weird dream. But fuck, he definitely wouldn't be able to dream up this.

You were so perfect - so fucking perfect in a way that was so very real.

The picture was a fucking stunning side profile of your body - rolling curves, lacy underwear that could clearly barely contain your impressive hips with sweet little stretch marks jutting out from the fabric (jagged little marks across the softness of your skin that made Jason want to act up) - soft fat for him to grab onto, and the perfect teardrop shape of your breast, now bared to his eye in a way that he had only dreamt of before. Something that he had stared at through the oversized tee shirts you wore to bed without a bra, just wondering what you looked like underneath.

And fuck, this was so much better than anything he could have dreamt up.

Jason's cock began to harden almost instantly, and laying in bed, he reached over to his nightstand for some lube, ready to milk that picture for all it was worth, when-

His phone buzzed again.

Pretty Girl: 'Delete that.'

Jason hadn't even considered that you had sent it to him by mistake. He had been far too busy enjoying to even consider the intention or the psychology behind it.

So, he took his hand off the waistband of his sweats and texted back the first thing that came to mind.

'No.'

(He didn't hear your annoyed growl on the other end, frustrated at his downright typical Jason behaviour.)

'It's not my fault you made a dumbass mistake. Besides, it's the least I get after all the nagging from you.'

Then, something else came to mind as the bubbles popped up, meaning you were busy formulating a reply - an annoyed one, no doubt.

'Who did you mean to send it to anyway? Who are you fucking whose name starts with J that's not me?'

(You hesitated.)

Pretty Girl: 'I didn't type in J.'

'???'

Pretty Girl: 'I typed in G. And it turns out the first contact that popped up was Giant Baby. That's you.'

Jason felt annoyed and insulted on all levels. The fact that you were going to Tiger Boy for dick instead of him, and the fact that you had used such a mocking contact name for him. But when he realised that such a pathetic string of events had caused him to accidentally see you naked, he couldn't be too upset.

'I'm still keeping the picture 😈'

Pretty Girl: 'You're such an asshole' Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me one'

'Fine, I'll owe you one'

Jason shrugged it off, thinking he had won, until -

Pretty Girl: 'No, you owe me a cock.'

This made Jason's stomach jump. You couldn't possibly mean-?

Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me a picture of your dick. You know - an eye for an eye type stuff.'

Jason wanted to ask questions - what did you plan to do with the picture? Should he shave his balls first? Did you want more than one?

But his cock got even harder at you asking for a picture, at you demanding to see his cock, and he couldn't properly think - he couldn't even reason that you might later blackmail him with the picture.

No, instead, he found himself ripping down his pants and turning on the bedside lamp for good lighting, pumping himself up to peak rigid hardness and grasping the base of his cock in hand. And then, without hesitation, he snapped a picture for you. He made sure to get his abs in the photo - a collection of his best assets, with his pants pulled down to mid-thigh, showing off his tight stomach, the deep V leading down to his dick, and his thick seven inch cock in hand surrounded by some well-kept dark pubic hair.

(He was proud of it - and that ego was one of the things that annoyed you most about him.)

He sent it without hesitation and then you began typing several times and stopped once again. Jason's stomach churned with nerves until -

Pretty Girl: 'Fuck you' Pretty Girl: 'I thought it would be smaller'

Jason had no clue how to respond to that, and he was busy racking his brain for some clever reply, when -

Oh. Oh fuck.

(1) new photo

You had sent him another picture. And this time it was definitely on purpose.

It was a view between the plump, beautiful thickness of your thighs - your hand was inside the pretty lace of those panties, and your fingers were visible working on your clit while your needy hole dripped wetness onto the fabric.

So you had liked what you had seen.

Pretty Girl: 'What would you do if you were here right now?'

Jason's brain short-circuited then. He thought of so many things - eating your pussy until you screamed, flipping you onto your stomach and fucking you until you begged him to stop, gripping onto those gorgeous thighs, pinning them to your chest and pounding into your cunt until you finally surrendered and said that you had liked him all along, fucking your smart little mouth to finally shut you up-

Pretty Girl: 'Come on, Jay. Don't disappoint me.'

Oh, he won't.

(Another thing Jason won't admit - he came back to the Tower just for you.)

...

DC Titans Masterlist

[corydora-writes]

My Everything

Summary: You're Bruce Wayne's wife and a plus-size model. Tonight, you are attending a Wayne Charity Gala that you tenaciously put together! Bruce can't seem to take his eyes off you, and it's apparent that other affluent guests are equally captivated by you.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Plus Size Female Reader.

Warnings: Minors DNI! Fluff, and smut towards the end.

Word Count: 3,627

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing smut, and it's probably going to be my last. I much prefer writing fluff. Nonetheless, enjoy! x

Life as a plus-size model and being Bruce Wayne's wife often presented unique challenges. This year, you dedicated yourself to your modeling commitments for the Winter Season while actively participating in the meticulous planning and arrangements for the prestigious end-of-the-year Wayne Charity Gala. Balancing these roles was undeniably taxing, but the anticipation of quality time with your husband, free from his responsibilities as Batman, made it all worthwhile. 

After flawlessly applying your makeup, your stylist carefully guided you in putting on the stunning dress while you were blindfolded. You eagerly anticipated the first glimpse of the dress, specifically chosen and tailored just for you.

"Okay, love," Salah exclaimed excitedly, "you can open your eyes now." 

You gazed at your reflection in the mirror, and your mouth fell open in astonishment. The stunning silk dress draped in a luxurious emerald green hue was sleeveless, allowing the delicate stretch marks on your shoulders to peek through, a part of your beauty that you cherished and never concealed with makeup. The dress elegantly cinched at your waist, enhancing your figure and accentuating your bosom. With a playful and confident air, you kicked your leg forward through the intricate slit of the dress. 

"Salah, you have outdone yourself once again," you said with genuine admiration. "Your talent is truly unparalleled." 

You turned around to inspect the dress from behind.

"I don't recall seeing this exquisite piece on the runway this season. Am I the lucky one to be adorned in your remarkable prototype?"

"That's because it wasn't on the runway," Salah added. "And not a prototype." 

You turned to look at him with an eyebrow raised in confusion. 

"Who designed it, then?" You inquired. 

"Your husband did." 

"What?"

"A few months ago, he requested a custom-designed dress exclusively for you. I brought his vision to life."

A warm and tender sensation filled your heart.

"And," Salah began, " that's not the only thing he chose." His tone was mischievous.

"What do you mean?" you asked. 

"He chose that sexy lace set you're wearing underneath." he grinned. "He's so going to unwrap you after the gala."

You coughed softly and forced a smile, hoping to conceal the hint of a blush creeping up your cheeks.

—

Bruce had just finished getting ready at his office after several lengthy meetings at Wayne Enterprises and made his way to the manor to pick you up. He couldn't help but think about the elegant dress he had carefully selected for you. Knowing it was from your favorite designer and good friend made him hope you would love it as much as he did.

He dispatched final instructions to Dick, Jason, and Damian. They had been tasked with patrolling the city until his return from the charity event.

Just take the entire night off, old man, Dick replied. 

As he was getting ready to reply, he heard the door upstairs close. He instinctively slid his phone into his pocket and made his way to the base of the staircase, where the ornate wooden railing wound up to the upper floor.

Bruce found himself in rapt fascination as he watched you come down. Your gown was a work of art, embracing every curve of your figure with an effortless grace that demanded attention. A surge of longing coursed through him as he took in the sight of you.

Extending his hand, he met you at the final step, his touch both supportive and filled with quiet intensity as he assisted you.

Bruce's breath caught in his throat as he beheld you. 

"Wow, you are breathtaking," he stammered, his voice betraying his unsteady awe at the sight of you.

You smiled mysteriously as you gracefully walked away from him, and then, with a slow and deliberate twirl, you revealed every inch of yourself, captivating his attention.

"I hope this dress meets your approval, Mr. Wayne." Your voice was sultry and seductive, causing a surge of arousal in Bruce. 

"It more than meets my approval. You look positively stunning," he said earnestly, unable to take his eyes off you. 

He gently drew you close, pulling you towards him with a soft yet firm touch. His hands found their place on your waist as you responded by tenderly wrapping your arms around his shoulders, feeling the reassuring strength in his embrace.

As he leaned in closer, his warm and tender lips made contact with your bare, delicately exposed shoulder, leaving a trail of gentle, affectionate kisses.

He whispered in your ear, "What you're wearing underneath is for my eyes only," his breath ghosting across your skin, "a treasure that belongs solely to me."

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you experienced a momentary pause. Bruce's possessive nature emanated from a profound depth of affection, conveying a wholesome desire to protect and adore you.

He stepped back, gazing into your eyes with a tender intensity. 

"But I'm not entirely selfish," he murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "I want the entire world to be captivated by the extraordinary beauty you possess," he confessed, his words lingering in the air. "But always remember, you belong to me, now and for all eternity." With a gentle yet firm grip on your waist, he drew you closer, his touch conveying both possession and adoration. Leaning in, he pressed his lips against yours. It was a kiss filled with passion and longing that conveyed all the emotions that Bruce had felt since he first laid eyes on you at the Art Gallery. And as you both pulled away, your eyes sparkled with adoration, your love for him evident in every gesture.

But your love for each other was not without its challenges. Your marriage was unconventional, but it didn't matter to either of you. Bruce had to balance his responsibilities as Batman and as your husband constantly. He tried to keep you at arm's length, afraid of putting you in danger, but you refused to back down. You were determined to stand by his side, no matter what, even if it meant sharing him with life as the Caped Crusader. 

But you couldn't deny that the dual life made things complicated. Whenever Gotham was threatened and needed Batman's attention, he had to leave abruptly, leaving you worried and alone. You also spent countless nights alone, only seeing him in the mornings. But you never complained. You understood the importance of Bruce's mission and always remained supportive.

Each time Bruce laid eyes on you, the world seemed to fade away, leaving behind a singular focus on you. In those rare, cherished moments, he had the opportunity to give you his undivided attention, and it was as if he was experiencing the exhilaration of falling in love with you all over again.

"Something on your mind?" You asked him because you noticed that he was lost in thought. 

Bruce shook away from his reveries. 

"You," Bruce replied. "And how badly I want to explore every inch of your body and show you how much you mean to me," he said in a low and husky voice. 

You blushed and smiled shyly at him. 

"I'll be patient, Mrs. Wayne." He looked at you and smirked as if reveling in your obvious flushed face. 

Bruce couldn't help but wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you closer as you both made your way to the car. 

—

When you arrived, a relentless barrage of camera flashes greeted you. Bruce appeared at the door, extending a supportive hand to help you up and guiding you towards him. His touch was gentle yet protective as his hand settled on your waist. He made it his mission to shield you from any potential dangers, including the relentless intrusion of the paparazzi.

"Can we get photos of you both individually?" One of the photographers yelled. 

Bruce got out of the way to let your photo get taken. 

You struck a pose, your hand on your hip and your head held high, exuding elegance and grace. The photographer snapped away, capturing every angle. Your smile was radiant, and it was evident that you were genuinely enjoying yourself. As you gazed out into the crowd, you could see the positive reactions from those around you. People were clapping and cheering, admiring your beauty and confidence.

The photographer asked for a few more poses, and you happily obliged. 

You shifted your gaze to Bruce and found him looking at you with an affectionate expression, a loving gleam in his eyes, and a gentle smile gracing his face. He had a tad look of mischief, likely undressing you in his mind. You returned the smile. 

"Now you, Bruce!" One photographer yelled, interrupting the moment you were both sharing.

"Not tonight," Bruce answered and walked away with you. 

Bruce kissed your forehead and wished you luck before leaving you to do your own thing while he mingled with the partners of Wayne Enterprises. 

The night progressed with a series of speeches by prominent artists. When it was time for you to speak, your words echoed through the hushed hall, reminding everyone present why they were there: to give foster children a chance at a better life. The funds would go to build an independent living facility for children, particularly teenagers who could not find placements. You shared your experience as a former foster child who aged out of the system, and you vowed to change that reality for other foster kids.

The crowd responded with a chorus of applause. Bruce cheered you on and felt immense pride for all the hard work you had done. 

The sophisticated guests wandered through the carefully curated art gallery, sipping fine champagne and other exquisite, high-priced liquors. As you contemplated a potential art addition to your office, your attention was drawn to a group of impeccably dressed women whispering and giggling, their envious eyes fixed on you. Feeling a pang of annoyance, you rolled your eyes and massaged your temples as their conversation reached your ears. It seemed like these events always managed to attract the same types of people: the typical wealthy individuals who generously spent money for a good cause to make themselves feel good, the ones who came with the mission to find any gossip, and those who murmured opinions on how you were an unlikely match for Bruce.

"Excuse me," you said in a warm tone and gave them a friendly smile, trying not to disrupt the moment. I couldn't help but notice that all of you have been staring at me." You uttered these words cautiously, in case someone discreetly captured the moment with their camera.

The women looked at each other, caught off guard by your courage to confront them.

"Oh, we couldn't help but notice your gorgeous dress. May I ask where you found it?" one of the women inquired, attempting to divert from their earlier discussion.

You let out a light chuckle, a knowing smile spreading across your face as you realize they are being untruthful. "Thank you for your kind words," you respond, unable to resist mentioning, "but I overheard your conversation."

The women's eyes darted anxiously, repeatedly adjusting their position to avoid meeting your gaze and showing unease.

"I couldn't help but overhear you discussing my husband, Bruce Wayne, and speculating about why he chose to be with someone like me," you said in a composed and collected tone, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you.

The women were visibly shocked by your unexpected confrontation. Their eyes widened, and their expressions turned to disbelief. They stood there, motionless, struggling to find the right words.

"I'm flattered…" you began.

The women gazed at each other, their brows furrowed in confusion as they exchanged perplexed looks, trying to make sense of the situation.

"You purchased a $15,000 ticket to this charity event, but instead of supporting the cause, you made my appearance the topic of conversation," you said calmly.

One of the women cleared her throat. As they sipped their drinks, a flush of crimson spread across their faces, betraying their unease.

Bruce's strong, comforting arm encircled your waist, and as he leaned down, you felt the warmth of his lips as he placed a tender and affectionate kiss on your cheek.

"Ladies," he remarked with a warm smile. "You all look lovely."

"Thank you", the women said shyly. 

"What were you all talking about, if I may?" Bruce asked.

"Love," you began. "The ladies were curious to know why you married me." 

Bruce's eyes met yours with a deep, enamored gaze.

"Yes, she is undeniably beautiful, and she's currently the most sought-after model," he said, pausing to gather his thoughts. "But my wife, she's not just outwardly stunning. Her compassionate nature, selflessness, and genuine care for others demonstrate that she possesses a heart that is truly pure and kind. She's an extraordinary mother to our children. I feel truly understood and seen for who I am in her presence."

You gazed at Bruce for a long moment, your expression tender. 

"I'm the luckiest man in the world." He leaned to press his lips against yours. 

"Mr. Wayne," someone from afar called him. 

"Excuse me, ladies." He turned to look at them. "Please enjoy the rest of your night."

Once Bruce reached a far distance, they turned to look at you. 

One of the women cleared her throat nervously before speaking with a shaky voice to apologize to you.

"Me too." The second woman said.

"So am I," the other one said. 

"If your apology is sincere, I will accept it as cash, credit, or check." You smiled and kept your tone neutral. 

Ordinarily, you wouldn't have directly addressed the situation. With age and experience, you worked diligently to develop self-love and gratitude for your body, so the pressures of society and critical gazes lost their significance eons ago. But you felt playful tonight, so you decided to leverage fatphobia to benefit the charity. 

—

The elegant gala was winding down, with most guests having departed. Bruce found himself at the bustling bar, conversing with a group of enthusiastic investors who had pledged generous donations to the charity.

Bruce excused himself from the gathering and found a quiet, secluded area. He reached for his phone and found a message from Dick: 

We're all fine. Goons being goons. Take the damn night, old man. Seriously.

Just as he was about to send a message, the murmur of the investors nearby caught his attention. Their conversation revealed their admiring remarks about your enchanting allure, casting a shadow of unease over Bruce's thoughts.

"How long do you give it until they split?" One said. 

"Trust fund kid turned CEO with a model?" one man quipped. "I give it two years at most."

"I can already imagine the tabloid headlines."

They laughed. 

"I call dibs."

Bruce's ears twitched. A flicker of anger crossed his face before he schooled his expression into one of haughty indifference. 

"Hey darling," you uttered sweetly and sat next to him. 

Bruce maintained his silence, offering no words in response.

"Bruce," you asked, your voice tinged with worry. "Are our sons okay? Did something happen to them?"

Bruce's unease dissipated as he gazed into your widened eyes, which had been filled with concern. He was filled with an overwhelming sense of guilt for causing you distress.

"No, the boys are fine."

He carefully observed the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest, exhaling a sigh of relief.

"Then what's wrong?" You asked again. 

"I'm..." he hesitated. "I'm jealous." 

"What of?" you asked. 

"You see those men over there at the bar?" 

You nodded. 

"Your presence tonight set their tongues wagging." 

You chuckled. Your laughter was a sweet melody to Bruce's ears. 

"I belong to you, my love." You said. "And I always will."

He gently took your hand and led you away from the crowd and into a private space, away from prying eyes and ears. 

"You're intoxicating," his eyes smoldering with desire and a hint of possessiveness. "I can't bear the thought of you belonging to anyone but me." 

You smiled, your gaze locking with his. You caressed his face, savoring the fiery moment. 

"I'm terrified of losing you," he confessed, his voice trembling with raw emotion. "I constantly feel guilt and fear that I'm holding you back from a life of normalcy, perhaps with another man."

You were fully attentive while Bruce shared his thoughts, never interrupting him. It had taken him a long time to be vulnerable with you. Your unwavering resolve since the beginning gradually chipped away at his defenses. The once stoic, reserved man of few words, shrouded in an aura of melancholy and enigma, let his facade crumble until you saw the man behind the mask. You had become a balm to his wounds. 

"Bruce," the soft hum of his name escaped your lips as you gently reached out to hold his hand. "We are anything but ordinary, and that's what I adore about us. I don't crave a conventional relationship. I want you."

Enveloping him in your embrace, your love acted as a guiding light, casting out the lingering shadows that plagued his soul.

He leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

"Let's go home," he said. 

_______                           

You and Bruce retreated to the privacy of the opulent Wayne Manor. As you gracefully slipped out of the designer gown, revealing your ample body, Bruce's gaze lingered on you with unabashed desire.

You made your way to him, sat on his lap, and helped remove his tie. 

"you're stunning," Bruce breathed.

His hands explored every dip and curve with a reverence that made you feel worshiped.

He marveled at the feeling of your softness against his firm touch, the contrast between you igniting a fire within him.

"As much as I love this lingerie on you, I think it would look even better on the floor," Bruce whispered in your ear. 

With a flick of his fingers, he undid the clasp of your bra, letting it fall open and reveal your breasts. He ran his hands over them, feeling the softness of your flesh, and then leaned down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. You let out a soft moan as he teased your nipple with his tongue. 

You reached down and started to undo his pants, freeing his hard, throbbing cock. You stroked it gently, feeling it twitch in your hand as he moaned with pleasure.

You kissed Bruce, his lips soft and gentle against yours. He could feel your body responding to his touch as your breath became increasingly ragged. He felt the heat between you two building, and he broke the kiss to look into your eyes.

"You're so beautiful," he reminds you again.

Then he lays you back gently, and you look up at him with desire. You help him unbutton his shirt and take it off, revealing his toned chest, and you can't help but run your hands over it, sending shivers down his spine. 

He moved down your body, his lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He reached to your belly, leaving trails of kisses.

'I love your body,' he murmured. 

He continued down, teasing you through the fabric of your panties. You gasped, your hips bucking as he finally slipped a finger under the fabric and into your wet heat.

He slowly fingered you, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit as you moaned and writhed beneath him. You were so wet, so ready for him. He couldn't wait any longer. He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and pulled them down, throwing them aside.

He climbed back up your body, his hardness pressing against your wetness. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, urging him on. With one swift thrust, he was inside you. You cried out, your nails digging into his back as he began to fuck you with long, hard strokes.

Your bodies moved together in a rhythm, your moans and gasps of pleasure filling the room. Bruce could feel an orgasm building inside him, tightening as he slammed into you again and again.

You pushed him off of you before he climaxed and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips and grinding your pelvis against his hard cock. Bruce could feel the heat radiating from your wet pussy, and he ached to be inside you.

'I love how you feel on top of me,' he murmured, his breath hot. "I love your softness, your curves, your warmth."

You reached down and guided Bruce's cock inside your wet slit. He groaned with pleasure as you sank down onto him, taking him all the way in. You began to ride him, your hips moving in slow, deliberate circles. Your hands braced on Bruce's chest. You began to ride him harder, your hips slamming down onto his cock with force. Bruce could feel himself getting close to the edge, feeling himself tighten with pleasure.

With a final, powerful thrust, Bruce came hard inside you, his cock twitching as he filled you. You collapsed onto him, your own orgasm washing over you in waves.

"I love you,' he gasped, his breath hot against your neck. 'You are my everything."

In that intimate embrace, he held you with a fervent tenderness, a sensation he never wanted to fade from memory. His heart overflowed with a desire to immortalize this profound moment: the gentle weight of your presence in his arms, the vulnerability shining in your eyes as you yielded to the depth of his affection, and the unspoken declaration of love reflected on your radiant face.

"I love you," you whispered back, your voice choked with emotion. "I love you so much."

[apocalypse-shuffle]

RED HOOD | BATFAMILY (assorted canon)

—

“Long Overdue” (Jason Todd & Batmom!Reader) and (background Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on a raid when they’re overwhelmed. -Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.

| SFW, canon typical action/violence, cursing?, brief mention of suicidal thoughts

| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source - Batman: Three Jokers comic)

| 2k+ words

| parts: one, spurt, two, three, four, five, six/six point five, seven.

You brace your hands on your hips, stern twist to your features.

“I failed worse than I thought as a parent if you think a couple of dropped criminals is going to make me hate you-.”

“There’s way more than a couple,” he scoffs.

You’re swiping your hand through the air before Jason’s even finished, the furrow on your face mirroring his own perfectly.

“And I truly don’t give a fuck.”

Whatever he was about to say stops dead on the tip of his tongue and he balks, eyes widening a fraction.

“Ma…”

And it almost - it almost makes you laugh out loud. The way he says it.

The mirth that leaks into your voice can’t be helped. “Boy…” you shake your head. “Nothing about this situation is normal, your killing isn’t going to be the magic thing that throws me off. Plus, I have been looking into what you’ve been doing. I know you've killed people and honestly…I don’t care. The hero sticht was never for me, I have a code and it’s not Bruce’s, but at the end of the day none of that matters. Your choices are your own Jason.”

You swallow thickly before continuing, “You’re an…adult now, you don’t need my blessing.”

You won’t say it cause you know it’ll piss him off, but Jason didn’t operate in uncertainty the same as Bruce. So attempting to talk him out of a decision would’ve just been begging to have your time wasted. If Jason thought his way was what Gotham needed then that was the end of the discussion on his part. You only regret what facilitated the fundamental shift in his stance of what’s “necessary” to keep people safe.

In spite of what you've said Jason’s features go back to being steeped, brows meeting and jaw clenched.

“That’s- that’s true. I know that,” you hum an affirmative and his eyes flash to yours. You haven’t seen that look in years. Like he’s sizing you up. It makes the corners of your lips quirk that you get to see it at all. “Just making sure you know where I stand.”

Your brow raises.

“Uh huh,” you nod to yourself. You have an inkling about why exactly he felt the need to jump at telling you off. “Even if he gave you a hard time about what you're doing your father does still love you, you know?”

Jason shakes his head harder this time, almost snarling.

“He’s not my damn father.”

At his tone you stiffen too. The shift feels like a punch to the gut and you can’t help but react as if the hit was real. It almost feels like it was.

Jason hadn’t exactly been smiling before but if you’d thought he was being distant then, you’ve been shown for a fool now. All that grace he was giving you is completely gone.

“…,” you look over the harsh lines of his face, the way his upper lip curls, and it makes your chest ache. The conversation went worse than you thought then. Buildings blew up all the time in Gotham, and Jason didn’t seem too banged up but- “Alright. Okay, Jason, I’m just reminding you that he works in absolutes. His anger likely isn’t at you specifically, just your methods.”

He sighs out roughly and when he straightens completely out of your hold you have to swallow back a noise of protest. “I know that, but it shouldn’t excuse him.”

He crosses his arms.

“He left me,” he forces out. You squint, confused. “I was holding out for him and he left me for that damn clown. From what I gather Joker set off the explosives I tied him up with - which wasn’t my most well thought out plan but that’s not the point. The point is when it went off he didn’t save me. Bruce took the Joker and left me for dead. Not me and that green haired freak, just me. I woke up under piles of rubble by myself.”

Your face drops, you can feel it, and Jason definitely sees it by the way his scowl reappears.

“What, you don’t believe me? It’s too hard to reconcile the man you love being the type to leave me to die?”

You hold up a finger and Jason almost (almost) cusses you out, you can see it on his face, but five years away apparently didn’t stop your glare from being more effective than his. Batglare™️ be damned you were still his mother.

“Jason, Bruce has surprised me a lot today, but I’m not gonna take that out on you cause I know better. What I am gonna ask is that you not take that tone with me; if you do it again I’m walking out this room and we can try this another day.” You huff and relax back into the neutral position you were sporting before. “I understand you’re angry and- and I honestly don’t know why you aren’t more mad at me, but if this anger is not for me don’t take it out on me. Have I made myself clear?”

He doesn’t let his head duck like he might’ve years before. No, this time he stubbornly keeps eye contact but he can’t stop how a flush climbs all the way to the tips of his ears. He sighs, shoulders dropping.

“You’re right. I’m sorry Ma.” You inexplicably soften at his words and move to grab his hand, squeezing it and using your hold to pull him back in. He squeezes back the tiniest bit and you give him a closed mouthed smile. “You're being leagues more understanding than he was.”

“Well you are killing people Jay.”

“No. No, I’ve seen him treat Dent with more compassion and he kills. He murders. I watched him pick Joker over me. How am I less deserving than that monster? That doesn’t feel like absolutes or objectivity or whatever to me.”

Even in his quietness his voice crackles along the edges. You bite the inside of your lip. That was a good question. How did Bruce make that decision? Your brows move together. Your ex, even at his most logic driven, wouldn’t let that happen. Maybe with the Joker. He’d already tried the whole ‘I won’t kill you but I won’t save you either,” thing with the villain but this? Jason was nowhere close to Joker levels of bad. You can’t-

Looking at Jason now - Jason who’s genuinely letting you process what he just dropped on you - you cannot fantom what would possess Bruce to leave Jason to be overshadowed by death again. His son. Your fucking son. You sneer, teeth grinding together.

“I want to know what happened.”

Now is when Jason chooses to come back down. His anger going once more to the foreground in the face of your own rising temper.

“Ma…you don’t-”

“I do,” you stand up straighter. Jason schools his expression fast, but for a split second he was giving off the distinct impression of a teenager who just got caught in a lie and can’t figure out what gave them away. So where’s the lie? “Tell me.”

Jason blows air out of his nose and cuts you a slightly exasperated glare but he does start speaking.

“I- we fought. It wasn't exactly cute, we were both going hard, but the goal was leading him to where I had the Clown strung up, so I let him get more hits in than I probably should’ve.”

Jason pauses, looking over at you. You only nod, allowing him to move at his own pace. Jason’s only slightly expanding upon information you and everybody else privy to Gotham news already knows, but you doubt over the last couple years he suddenly turned pathological. Jason only ever lied out of omission when you lived in the manor so him keeping the fine details of what went down from you now didn’t ping nicely in the back of your mind.

“I begged him to let me kill Joker - for everyone’s sake,” he admits. Voice gaining levity as if he’s telling a particularly far-fetched joke before dropping back down. “I guess I should’ve known better, but I couldn’t believe it. That he’d just let Joker roam free after what he did to me - did to the hundreds of innocent lives he’s wiped off this planet. How could Batman let that go unpunished, you know? But I figured maybe he’d been holding out cause a what pixie boots me woulda done: saved the bastard despite everything for the sake of second chances.”

Another glance to you, but you don’t stop him so Jason keeps going. Voice quiet and more present yet no less intense.

“But he’s had enough second chances. We should’ve stopped giving them out to that sack of shit years ago but we didn’t, and that’s on us, but I was giving him a chance to rectify that and let me do it for everybody. To send him off to hell right where he belongs, and you know what he did instead?”

You hold his gaze even though it hurts seeing all that anger. All that betrayal.

“He chose Joker,” you say faintly.

“Yeah,” Jason nods. The smile he gives you is acidic. “He chose Joker. And I set him up for it, but only because B wouldn’t just get it over with. He just kept giving me every excuse in the book, cause apparently that was too hard of a decision to make for me. So screw it I made him pick between the two of us. Helped his indecision along. Let me kill Joker myself or kill me to stop me from killing him, since he wanted to save that monster so damn badly.”

“Jay,” you say, deflating.

A sharp shake of his head is all you get by way of acknowledgment for the assisted suicide he nearly instigated.

“Bruce’s solution? Sl-”

Jason stops. This time when he takes you in his eyes are far away, and he refuses to meet your gaze. A few deft beats before his mouth goes slightly agape but nothing comes out.

“Jason…?”

He chuckles, brushing you off. Nothing’s funny though and when he looks back to you there’s something new in his eyes you haven’t seen yet. An expression that distinctly brings you back to a fifteen year old calling to ask if you’d been lying to him too. If you’d known about Sheila Haywood the entire time and said nothing.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.” He swallows, “It’s just…at the end I got…emotional. Reckless. Turned my gun on him and he threw a batarang into…into the muzzle and it exploded in my hand. Then in the confusion I guess Joker got free and set off the bombs…and you know the rest: I’m so good I cheated death a second time,” he smiles. Something too big and with too many teeth to seem real.

“I don’t know whether I’m happy about that ‘second time’ or not,” you hold out your other hand and when he steps to take hold of it a small grin tugs at your lips. “But that’s only cause I don’t think you know either.”

You also don’t feel like he’s telling you everything, but for now this was a battle you were willing to rage another day. As long as he was safe it could wait.

Jason’s own smile shrinks to something more genuine.

“Maybe not today, Ma.”

“Yeah, I got you,” you say. “I’m tired of crying anyway.”

There is - after all - still a draft hitting your eyes that you are hopelessly ignoring the feel of. Jason grins.

“Well I’m starting to get a little faint myself so maybe you’re onto something, Old Lady.”

For a second you stop smiling, shooting him a cross look and sucking your teeth. He backs away from you to scoop up his helmet with a lighter, more real chuckle.

“Oh am I, smartass?” You turn around and knock him on the shoulder, urging him out the door while he gives an exaggerated ‘ouch!’. “See, I’ll show you old since you think you big and bad now that you can reach the top shelf.”

Despite the lighter air you’ve managed Jason only keeps laughing for as long as it takes him to reach the door. Once he opens it he freezes before he walks all the way through and turns back to you.

“I’m sorry about…everything. By the way.” Standing on the threshold with the smallest little frown on his face, he looks like a boy again and you smile at that warry frown.

Shrugging in between rows of grappling guns and prototype pellets you shake your head, rolling the stiffness from your shoulders and letting the twinge from the wound in your arm ground you.

“Don’t worry about me, I get it. If one confrontation went to absolute shit why wouldn’t the other? Trust though, with the situation at hand Bruce is my problem not you.” You point at him. “But you better call me after this.”

Jason stays looking at you silently then gives you one nod and slips that helmet right back on. Inwardly you protest the action but outwardly you content yourself with nodding back.

When he turns away and you can’t see anything but reinforced tact gear and shiny red you find your mouth opening again.

“Love you,” you call out. Just so he knows you never stopped.

His voice is soft over the modulation of the helmet when he responds with a hesitant: “Okay,” then you can’t see him anymore.

…TBC

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!

Also, I’m thinking about going on hiatus after finishing Long Overdue to give myself a break and shit, so yeah. I’ll (probably) come back on some unspecified date in July though so it’s not like I’ll even be gone for that long. Or like most people give a shit, but whatever.

Also also, I don’t know if I hit the mark and if the feelings were feeling, you know? But I made an attempt, I think that’s commendable.

possibly redundant EDIT: For clarification purposes - bcs my use of both scenes could confuse some - the version of the fight that happened in this fic universe is the one from the original comic and Under the Hood storyline, but the version of the fight that Jason tells Batmom (once he starts talking about being reckless and trying to shoot Bruce) is a lie he made up to spare her feelings based on the ending of the UTRH animated movie.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

Tagged: @aarinisreading, @niphredil-14, @mxtokko, @calsjack, @brunnetteiwik

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡Our Promise｡⋆.

Jason Todd x plus size reader

There are those in the world who are destined to be- through unimaginable challenges they will find each other, no matter what.

Warnings: tiny hint of star-crossed lovers, I made this long as hell for no reason other than i got really into it, fluff so much goddamn fluff, reader has shitty parents, mentions of convents and being sent away, references to pregnancy and sex, also Jason is totally a girl dad- fight me, some drinking

WC: 2.7k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You could safely categorise your life into three parts- when you met Jason Todd, the day you were reunited and the moment he made your life complete. You found him in the library on the border of Crime Alley when you were both barely 10, the starving little boy and the socialite-in-training. You both reached for the same copy of Jane Eyre but quickly threw yourselves apart the moment your fingers touched. His face blazed deep red under the smudge of dirt on his cheek and nose as you bashfully looked away.

There was a brief moment of silence as he took you in: perfectly clean and pressed pink dress with brand new black Mary Janes before he asked- “wanna share?” You sat side-by-side on one of the large bean bags in a quiet corner of the old building, taking turns reading aloud to each other before being kicked out by the ancient librarian well after closing.

You saw him every chance you could, sneaking away from your tutors just to join him on little adventures through Gotham or just reading together. Jason became your sanctuary, your escape from the cruel jabs of your mother and the cold shoulder from your father. He was the only one to make you smile, and dare you say it but the first boy you fell in love with (not that you could admit it even to yourself). 

Everything was great, for a while but all good things must come to an end. Your father had become suspicious of your continued absence from your vital lessons so he sent one of his many bodyguards to trail you for a while. You were found curled into Jason’s side as he attempted his hand at reading Shakespeare, of course failing horribly. You screamed and cried as the huge brute pulled you away from your only friend, shoving you into a huge black SUV as Jason screamed for you.

The last time you ever saw him was that day as he chased the car down the busy Gotham street before he was left in the dust as you sped off, his voice just barely carried on the wind, “I’ll find you!”. You would never forget the pure heartbreak that his blue eyes held as you were ripped away from him. It haunted you when you were forced onto a plane destined for France and each night you spent in that convent where you would spend all of your teenage years. 

You were shaped into the woman your parents wanted you to be. You were graceful, eloquent and intelligent, smart enough to navigate the intricacies of high society while hiding your true motives. And for that, you were granted a reprieve from the overbearing and downright cruel nuns who had controlled you for so long.

About a week after you turned 21, you were finally allowed to return home, of course under the condition that you were to be presented to the Gothamite society for possible suitors. And what better place to do that than an infamous Wayne gala. Dressed to the nines in a deep red velvet dress that hugged your generous curves like a second skin, you immediately drew everyone’s eyes. But you truly did not care, if it had been up to you, you would’ve been at home with a good book or even in some far off place after having faked your death.

Unfortunately, you were stuck here. So you decided to drink. Saddled up to the open bar, you sipped on the expensive whiskey that was provided by the generous mister Wayne and scanned the crowd. You knew the people your parents wished for you to marry- the uptight men and women who pretended to be good people while actively letting Gotham fall to ruins. 

The thought of being forced to marry anyone at this party made you feel physically ill. You glanced over your shoulder to where well-dressed waiters continuously streamed from a side hall. Maybe you could make a run for it if only someone would create a distraction.

“You know I take great offence when beautiful young women such as yourself aren’t having fun at a party in my home.” A large man slid up to the bar next to you. Dressed in a navy suit with his dark hair slicked back, eyes shining with a mischievous glint, you immediately knew who he was.

“I’m assuming you’re Richard Grayson.” You raised a brow at him and took a sip of your drink. He beamed at you, letting his gaze roam your body before meeting your eyes once again. He slid closer, his muscular body now mere inches from you. 

“Call me Dick. And who would I have the pleasure of spending this evening with?” You allowed him to take your left hand and lay a soft kiss to your knuckles. Your stomach still turned in disgust but less so than when the mayor’s son had attempted the same move a mere 15 minutes ago.

You gave him your name and suddenly Dick stiffened, his face paling. “Y/N Y/L/N? As in the only daughter of the Y/L/N family who’s been missing for the past decade?” 

“The one and only.” You responded with some confusion. Quickly, the eldest Wayne son straightened up, a kinder but somehow sadder smile growing on his face. A strong arm wrapped around your wide hips in a somehow friendly gesture and pulled the drink from your hand. 

“Then I have someone you just have to meet, plus it’ll get you out of this party.” You were wary, of course and evidently it showed on your face because Dick scrambled to ease your nerves. “Just trust me- I wouldn’t do this unless I really meant it. Besides, you can use that knife that’s strapped to your thigh on me if you need. I can see the outline of the hilt through your dress. You need to learn to hide it better.” He chuckled at your wide eyes, using your shock to quickly guide you from the huge ballroom and deeper into the bowels of the mansion.

Your high heels and his black dress shoes clacked against the dark hardwood in sync, the sound quickly drowning out the increasingly soft chattering of the gala attendants until all you could hear were your footsteps. Dick’s hand had now shifted to the small of your back, directing you through the empty halls and up a flight of stairs before reaching the only door with light streaming through the bottom.

He gave you a wink and knocked, opening the door before the occupant could answer. The room was childish, decorated in posters and tacked up photos. An old guitar sat in the far corner, almost entirely hidden by open cardboard boxes, all of which were half-full of trinkets that had only just been taken down from dusty shelves. A giant of a man sat on the double bed in the middle of the room, holding a worn book that had definitely seen better days.

He sighed heavily as Dick opened the door even further, gesturing for you to enter. “What part about ‘I don’t want to see your dumb fugly face until tomorrow’ didn’t you get?” You were ashamed to admit but the deepness and pitch of the mysterious man’s voice sent a flutter of arousal through your belly. Dick just huffed under his breath.

“Well I brought you a present so you’ll have to forgive me.” You sent a furious look his way, missing how the other man raised his head, his eyes settling on your figure. The mattress springs creaked, making your whip your head around.

He easily stood at a massive 6’6, towering over not only you but Dick as well. And with the addition of his whole body being practically made of muscles, he was terrifyingly huge. But you weren’t scared. 

You were frozen in place, stunned by the bright green eyes that started back at you in a way that felt so painfully familiar. “Y/N?”

“Jason?”

——————

It was surprisingly easy for your lives to mesh together again, especially since Jason somehow convinced your parents to let you move into your own apartment (you never wanted to know how exactly he accomplished that). But you never spent any time there- it was abandoned in favour of spending all your time in Wayne Manor, with Jason of course.

Your cheeks constantly ached from smiling and there seemed to be a permanent soreness in your ribs from how hard he made you laugh. Both of you were different, no longer the children you used to be but adults who had been shattered and glued back together so many times that you could no longer tell which parts of you remained unbroken, but you were together and that was more than enough.

You spent days just talking, huddled together on his bed, the large couch in the den and even the roof, although that stopped when Alfred found you one night and almost had a heart attack. And the days you didn’t or couldn’t talk, you would hold each other. Legs tangled and foreheads pressed so tightly together, your noses were squished. It was like you were physically glued together, unable to let go for the fear of losing each other again.

Even the both of you admitted that it was absolutely disgusting (which the rest of the Waynes wholeheartedly agreed with) but you were happy so what did it matter.

Sleep hovered on the edges of your vision as you snuggled further into the heated blanket around your shoulders. Unconsciously, your legs squeezed together as you got comfortable, your soft inner thighs pressing against the sides of Jason’s head. He grunted and assuming you squeezed him too tight, you tried to pull your legs up to fold them underneath you. He grabbed your shin with his right hand, only briefly letting go of the game controller, and forced the soft muscle back against his strong chest where your legs had been dangling. “Stop moving around. You’re supposed to be my pillow.” He mumbled.

You buried your hand in his back hair, scratching his scalp with your nails. “Sorry Jay.” He practically purred as he relaxed back into you, giving a sweet peck to the inside of your knee. The sounds from his video game started up again and your eyes fluttered shut. Just as you were being lulled to sleep by the repetitive sounds of fake gunfire and footsteps, another, much younger voice spoke up.

“I don’t get it.” Damian stood with his arms crossed right on the threshold of the room. His gaze firmly fixed on you and his brother, who sat on the floor in front of you, your legs thrown over his shoulders. “You both are so affectionate to each other and yet you are not a couple.” You just shrugged.

“Friends can be touchy and it’s still considered platonic.” You felt Jason nod against your leg.

“We’re best friends who both had a shitty upbringing. We’re obviously severely codependent so you might as well leave us alone cause it’s only gonna get worse from here.” His deep voice vibrated up the  length of your thigh and you had to make an effort not to squeeze his head once more although this time for a whole other reason.

Damian’s scowl darkened almost comically. “But won’t any partners you have take issue with that?” That made both of you pause. Ever since Jason had come back to you, you hadn’t even thought of anyone else. He consumed your entire being, not leaving space for anyone else. And you were just fine with that but what if Jason didn’t feel the same? Could you deal with another woman in his life?

Your stomach churned at the thought of his arm around someone else’s shoulder, of his lips on their skin, of him sleeping with them. Unbeknownst to you, the man nestled between your legs was having the same thoughts.

His eyes quickly grew dark with a burning fury. Without a word, he threw your legs from his broad shoulders and stood up. He shot Damian a withering look as he strode from the room, leaving you both in confused silence. You glanced at the tween but he held no answers. Before you could get up to follow your friend, he returned.

“Jason?” He grabbed your hands and tugged you violently to your feet. Jason smirked at you with a wink, making your heart skip a beat. 

“Observe demon spawn.” And then suddenly, he was on one knee, holding a ring. It was simple- a gold band with a singular teardrop stone in the centre. The band was scratched and the diamond didn’t shine, worn down with age but none of that mattered because the man you loved more than anything, your soulmate, your best friend was offering it to you with the most gentle smile you had ever seen. The same smile he gave you in that decrepit library so long ago.

He didn’t even have to ask. “Yeah?” He gestured to the ring. You giggled through the tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Yeah.” You nodded and held out your left hand, allowing him to slip the perfectly sized ring onto your finger. Jason sprung to his feet, immediately taking your face into his large hands. There was a moment where your eyes met and then he kissed you.

Stars exploded around you as the kiss slowly deepened. Jason’s hands moved to your wide hips, tugging you even closer.

“What the hell kind of proposal was that?!” Startled, you jumped apart like caught teens, only to be greeted with the sight of his whole family in absolute hysterics. Tim was obviously the one that yelled given his red face and clearly exacerbated expression. 

The others were stunned into silence save for Bruce who was quietly sniffling into a handkerchief. You and your fiancé glanced at each other, unable to hold back your smiles.

“I had to make sure that she was my best friend forever.”

——————

The last coat of house paint was drying quickly in the hot August sun, giving Jason a chance to sit in the shade of the huge Oak tree in the backyard. The ground vibrated beneath him as he collapsed onto the cool grass, his head falling back against the trunk.

He groaned as he stretched out his long legs in front of him. The renovations to the house were coming along slowly but Jason couldn’t be mad about it considering it was mostly his fault. “Daddy!” A blur of blue slammed into his chest, briefly knocking the wind from his lungs. There was the reason for the delay in renovations.

“Well hello miss Jane! How was your nap?” Eyes identical to his own looked up at him, sparkling with newfound energy. Her dark blue smock dress (the exact colour of uncle Dickie's uniform) floated around her legs as he planted herself on his thighs.

“Was good! Mama let me sleep in the big bed!” Jason smoothed down her black hair which was still mussed from sleep, smiling softly at his 4 year old.

“She was a very good girl, helping me with making her daddy a special drink and feeding the baby.” You practically glided over the lawn, still glowing from pregnancy even though Elizabeth was now three months old. You held a large glass of cold lemonade in your left hand, making your wedding bands glint beautifully in the sun.

Lizzie was dead asleep in the sling across your chest, making Jason’s heart clench with fondness. He took the drink from you, taking a big sip and just barely suppressing a cough. Evidently you had added something a little extra to his as a treat. “Thank you pretty girl.” He managed to get out through the burning in his throat. 

You smirked evilly at him as you pressed a kiss to your baby’s head. “You’re welcome daddy!” She giggled and slid from his lap so she could bolt over to the play structure he had built for her birthday. Jason watched her run off before turning to you.

“You are in for it Mrs Todd.” He growled playfully, his hand curling around your ankle.

“Well then it’s a good thing that the kids are having a sleepover with grandpa B and uncle Dami tonight isn’t it?” You beamed, running your hand through his hair. Your husband nuzzled into your touch, soaking up all the affection you were offering.

Jason Todd was your promise, your life, your everything.

Request: Jason Todd x chubby reader where they’ve been best friend before he was adopted by Bruce but lost contact because he couldn’t find her . One day he came across her again and promised to not let her go so he’s been clinging to her almost all the time, and whenever she hangs out at the manner with his brothers he’s not ashamed to be close to her, putting his head on her lap, or even sitting down in front of her with her legs open as he laid to her front while playing video games with his brothers. His brothers wouldn’t dare to teased him anymore because once they did it, Jason just didn’t care and continued cling to her. One day Damian said something like “they’re acting like a couple but they’re just friends, and it’s absurd” then Jason just casually asked if she would like to be his best friend forever and pulling out a ring which God know how long does he kept it for and everybody in the manor were just too stunned to react as reader teared up and said yes softly. Then Jason kissed her for the first time “Damn, I could do this every day.” “Now we’re best friend forever, you cannot leave me” and started to randomly being cute (as always when he is with her) planning to move to their own house, and telling her how many children does she want and just being cute imagining many little mini me(s). @wittysunflower

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[willsimpforanyone]

(If you’re able to answer) what type of stuff do you have in the works?

i can absolutely let y'all know what i'm working on from oldest ask to newest

- connor stoll smut

- nico di angelo x afab!trans!nb!reader smut

- poly!solangelo x nb!reader smut

- jason grace x daughter of hecate!reader

- chaos x daughter of hecate!reader

- leo valdez x child of apollo!reader

- connor stoll x daughter of athena!reader

- thor x plus sized!reader

- percy jackson x nb!monster!reader

- connor stoll x child of apollo!reader

[solarrene]

Home Again

Jason Todd x Plus size reader

Slow burn, slice of life, fluff and whatnot 💌

Filled cups of grief. Trying fathers and sons. A yearning heart for the uncertain one. Full of hope and longing. The love Jason thinks he doesn't deserve.

Or in which Alfred have someone over in the Wayne manor for a while, that being the child of his dear late friend, and we'll see how her relationship goes there with Jason,,,,,of course, our beloved batfamily as well

Status: completed.

1: Wayne's

2: By Grace Through Death

3: Feastful Breakfast

4: Mourning in the Lovely Morning to Nights End

5: Life at Best as We Know It

6: Hearts Reflecting One Another .1

7: Hearts Reflecting One Another .2

8. A Little Push

9. Blank Canvas

10. The Painter is Painting

11. Interrupted

12. Unfinished Piece

13. Untitled

14. In Their Rest

[citrinesparkles]

now we just sway.

jason todd x gender neutral reader. 752 words. notes: citrine starting another series at the beginning of what is shaping up to be the busiest week since she started her blog? more likely than you might think! an au where jason didn't die, set in early college years. when i said i wanted him happy i meant it. warnings: brief mention of food

"they make it look so easy."

from anyone else, the hum of acknowledgement would have sounded distant.

from him, it sounded almost as cozy as the thrift shop you had wandered into.

you pointed up at the several dozen dolls and figures frozen mid-dance on the shelves in front of you. "dancing."

"it's not as hard as it seems," he said, taking a hand out of his jacket pocket to pick up the nearest one and trace the details of the ceramic skirt. "you get the hang of it."

you scoffed lightly, rolling your eyes playfully away from him and back to the display. "yeah, sure, mr. grace on two legs."

"no, i'm serious! it's like riding a bike."

"and grace doesn't come in handy there either, huh?"

he reached past you, setting the figure back on the shelf. "fine, it comes in handy. but this kind of thing-" he brought down a different figure, this one featuring two small people in formal wear frozen mid-sway- "doesn't take much. just a little practice."

"mhm." you took a step to the side, gaze trailing over a set of dolls having a tea party. "somehow i feel like it wouldn't be that easy."

"want to bet on it?"

"what?"

"i think i can teach you to dance between now and bruce's big benefit on the 20th," he explained, playful confidence coating the statement. "f i can't, i'll buy us extra large sundaes from grover's."

"ooh... grover's, huh? that's pretty high stakes, jay." you turned back to him, tilting your head with a similarly playful smile. "what do you get if you actually pull it off?"

"if i can..." he trailed off dramatically to look up from the figurine and meet your eyes, "you come as my plus one to the gala. keep me from dying of boredom."

"don't you think you should ask bruce or something before you just start tossing around invitations?'

"he'd be happy to have you, trust me. besides, what's one more person in a crowd that size? bet he wouldn't even notice if i didn't tell him."

you raised an eyebrow.

"okay, he notices everything," he admitted, "but that's not the point."

a thoughtful hum escaped you. "fine, you just had better be ready to go all out on toppings when you lose."

"or," he dragged the word out with a boyish grin you suspected could charm the city to a stop, "when i win, you better be ready to put up with the sound of business men fake laughing about the weather for hours."

your nose scrunched up, making him laugh.

another warm, cozy sound.

the pattern wasn't lost on you, but instead of unpacking the butterflies it set loose in your stomach, you rolled your eyes and sighed. "fine, deal."

his grin returned, softer this time. "cool. so-" his eyes widened, darting past you- "woah, now that is a jacket."

he slid by you, barely brushing your shoulder as he passed and leaving a hint of his cologne in his wake: a burst of something floral wrapped in faint cedar and something else you couldn't name.

as you trailed after him, you caught yourself hoping you'd get another chance to try.

he was wiggling out of his varsity-style gotham university jacket, gently draping it over a nearby rack before tugging on one made of a tan leather.

he caught your eye in the mirror as he adjusted the collar. "what d'you think?"

you twirled a finger, and he followed the motion with a smooth spin towards you, arms out to showcase the sleeves.

"hm... it's nice, but..."

"not me?"

"not really, no."

he clutched a hand to his chest, falling back a step with a dramatic gasp. "what, don't think i'm cool enough for a leather jacket?"

"sorry, jason. besides," you lifted his jacket up and waved it gently, "this one brings out your eyes."

a small laugh escaped him, smile almost sheepish. "that was totally a priority when i bought it, too."

he shrugged off the tan jacket, a wistful sigh falling from his lips as he slipped it back onto its hanger before he turned and shuffled forwards in a playful pout.

"looks good on you," you offered as he tugged his own jacket back on.

"that has to count for something." he cast one more dreamy look at the leather jacket before turning his focus fully to you, his smile returning and reviving the butterflies that had so kindly died off. "so, about dance lessons..."

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

All Men Have Limits - II

Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne

Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.

Word Count: 4,300+

Previously on...

When Y/N arrived at the master bedroom, she was surprised to find the door slightly ajar. She knocked always and found Bruce turning to face her, shirtless and only in his boxer briefs.

Bruce seemed subtly surprised to find Y/N standing in his doorway and not Alfred. But he didn’t seem to be embarrassed by the state Y/N found him in. 

Along with the first aid kit, Y/N had grabbed two ice packs from the freezer.

“I’m fine,” Bruce told her before she could even offer to help him.

“You can either deal with me or you can deal with Alfred,” she threatened. 

“Your choice,” she added when she saw how serious he took her warning.

Bruce’s heavy sigh was the only answer she’d get.

“Come on,” Y/N nudged her head toward his en-suite bathroom that was probably twice the size of most people’s studio apartments.

She pointed to one of the steps that led up to the giant bathtub, silently instructing him to sit.

“Put these on your ribs,” Y/N instructed as she handed him the ice packs.

To her surprise, Bruce did as she asked.

“I don’t need stitches,” he mumbled as he watched her open the first aid kit.

“I know,” she answered. “Which is lucky for you, because I have no idea how to stitch people up.” 

She dabbed some cotton in hydrogen peroxide. “But…you still need to clean those cuts or they’ll take longer to heal and probably scar.”

Once again, Y/N was surprised to see that Bruce did as she said. He didn’t complain or refuse her assistance – just sat there silently. The man didn’t even flinch and Y/N knew she was causing his injuries to sting.

“What happened tonight that has you so upset?” Y/N finally asked after silently caring for him for a few minutes.

“What makes you think I’m upset?”

She sighed softly. “I’ll be the first to admit that you’re nearly impossible to read. But clearly something happened that caused you to storm out of the cave like you did.”

Bruce didn’t respond.

“Was it them?” Y/N asked carefully. “The Court?"

For a moment, she thought he’d ignore that question too.

“They know I’m protecting you. Well…they know that Batman is protecting you.”

Y/N shrugged. “We knew they were gonna figure it out eventually.”

Bruce remained silent.

“Did they send the Talons after you?”

From his expression, Y/N knew she was right.

The Talons were a group of lethal assassins that did all of the dirty work for The Court of Owls. They were highly trained, almost entirely undetectable, and a force to be reckoned with. Probably only second to the League of Assassins when it came to deadliness.

“That’s why Jason was with you,” Y/N pointed out. “You needed backup.”

“We had it under control,” was all Bruce said.

“I know you were already going after The Court,” Y/N told him gently. “And you need my help.” She hesitated and took in a shaky breath, “But thank you for looking out for me.”

“What was your plan?” Bruce asked.

“What do you mean?”

“When I came to you and told you that you’d been made, you said that you knew. What was your plan?”

“Run. And keep running. You and I both know I’m hopeless when it comes to an actual fight.” She shrugged. “My plan was to keep working on exposing them and stay alive long enough to see it through.”

Y/N waited for some sort of lecture, for Bruce to tell her that it was a stupid plan and she had been sloppy. She waited to feel patronized and belittled.

But Bruce just stared at her.

“What?” She challenged.

“I wish you would prioritize your life a bit more.”

She moved back a little from cleaning his cuts and snorted. “What? Like you?” 

Then she shook her head and went back to cleaning his cuts. “You’re so not the person to be lecturing about self-preservation, Bruce.”

Then Bruce surprised them both.

He grabbed Y/N by the back of her neck and brought her down to him before his lips collided with hers.

She dropped all the medical supplies in her hand from the shock of it all. But then she was cupping his face and kissing him back.

Next thing she knew, Bruce had steered her body so she was straddling his lap.

It had been so long since that night that Y/N had almost forgotten what his lips felt like. Or how his hands touched her so tenderly, but his intent was always clear and effortlessly confident.

But then Y/N’s leg accidentally collided with one of Bruce’s bruised ribs.

It didn’t deter him. He had every intention of ignoring it.

But Y/N felt his body tense in pain and she swore she felt the vibrations of the quietest pained moan from him. 

She could’ve imagined it, but she wasn’t going to continue knowing that she had the ability to accidentally hurt him.  

But it was also her saving grace. Because Y/N shouldn’t be doing this. 

Y/N reluctantly pulled away from the kiss. Bruce allowed the movement, but his grip on her waist and neck didn’t ease in the slightest.

“You should rest,” she whispered to him.

Then she shoved herself away from him and awkwardly stepped backwards as if she was desperately trying to put space between them.

“Umm…make sure you keep that ice on your ribs,” she told him awkwardly, half turned away from him.

Bruce opened his mouth to stop her, but no words came out. 

The next second, she bolted out of the bathroom and then his master suite.

Her mind was racing with so many thoughts that Y/N didn’t notice Dick catching her race into her own bedroom.

Dick looked between Y/N’s closed door and the direction of Bruce’s room, putting it all together. 

—————

After the close call with the Talons, Bruce had all hands on deck. Even Jason – who usually did his own thing and had separated himself from family matters – had been brought into the fold. Which meant he was spending way more time around the manor.

Y/N knew things were getting serious.

Bruce wasn’t exactly keeping her in the dark. But he also wasn’t being forthcoming with information.

Y/N didn’t know if he was trying to shield her in some way…or if he was just doing business as usual and taking control, not allowing anyone in until he thought it was absolutely necessary.

Either way, through the chaos of it all, Y/N realized Dick hadn’t acted as her shadow in almost a week.

It wasn’t until Jason decided to bother Y/N that she realized what had changed.

Jason leaned backwards against the console Y/N was working on so she was forced to face him. He crossed his arms with a smirk and looked down at her.

“So, you and B, huh?”

“Get off my equipment,” she warned him darkly without even glancing at him.

But inside, she was internally freaking out. 

Y/N made a point to keep as many facts about her life a secret. And her sex life? That was top priority when it came to her privacy. This was worst case scenario.

But also, how the hell did he figure that out?

Jason shrugged, but did as she asked and took a step away from the console. “He didn’t say anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Y/N finally looked up him. “Please tell me what I have to do to get you to leave me the fuck alone.”

Jason smiled and whistled. “I think I like you.”

“The feeling’s not mutual,” she mumbled as she began typing again.

“Jason, leave her alone.”

Y/N turned to see Dick walking into the cave.

Jason held up his hands in surrender and gave his brother an innocent face. “I was just trying to be polite to our guest, Richard.”

“I’m sure you were,” Dick side eyed him.

Jason then turned to Y/N and put on his Red Hood helmet. “I look forward to having more of these titillating conversations, Y/N.” Then he turned to Dick. “I’m heading out on patrol.”

He mounted his motorcycle and raced out of the cave, leaving Dick and Y/N alone for the first time in awhile.

“No patrol for you tonight?” Y/N asked him slowly.

“They’ve got it covered.”

She just nodded and didn’t ask any further questions.

All at once, they were submerged into strange silence. The air was racing with thoughts, yet the tension seemed to simultaneously make it thick, as well.

Y/N sighed. She might as well get this over with. 

“I know you want to ask, so just ask,” Y/N mumbled as her fingers raced across the keyboard and her eyes never left the screens.

“Doesn’t the whole…” Dick really didn’t know how to put it delicately.

Y/N sighed, clearly annoyed with his fumbling. She turned around in her chair to face him. “Does his age bother me? Is that what you’re struggling to ask?”

Dick shifted his weight awkwardly, “I guess so. Yeah.”

She raised her brow. “Haven’t you dated a literal alien before?”

“That’s not the same thing,” he defended with a glare.  

“Oh, so as long as the alien is the same age as you, it’s fine?”

Dick really didn’t have an answer for that.

“It’s just that…aren’t you a little young for him?” Somehow he managed to leave out the rudeness in the question. That must be the Wayne charm.

“Isn’t 9 a little young to put on a costume and fight crime?”

Dick sighed, “Touché.”

“I am one of the most successful hackers in the world. He’s a vigilante who dresses up as a bat. What about us screams normal and conventional to you, Dick?”

He knew she had a point.

“Plus, we aren’t in a relationship. It was a one-time thing. Nothing more. It happened a long time ago.”

However, she conveniently left out the heated kiss they shared last night.

“You sure about that?” Dick challenged.

Y/N just eyed him.

“Because the only women he’s had one-time things with are the one’s he’s used or paid to keep the image.” He took a step closer. “And they definitely didn’t know who he really was.”

Y/N tried not to let it show that his words caught her off guard.

This exactly what Y/N didn’t want.

She didn’t want anyone putting ideas in her head that she actually meant something to Bruce Wayne. Because she might make the mistake of believing it.

It happened once. They slept together once. One time. 

Had there been a indescribable intensity between them since then? Yes. But Y/N didn’t like to acknowledge or think about that.

“Can we please stop talking about this?” She asked.

Dick blinked and shook his head. “Sorry,” he blurted out. “I didn’t mean to…make you uncomfortable.”

Y/N put her face in her hands and groaned.

Then she shot to her feet and faced Dick. If he wasn’t a vigilante who could break the average man in one swift move, he would be intimidated by the energy radiating off of her.

“Hmm…I wonder why this conversation could ever make me feel uncomfortable, Dick,” her sarcasm was almost too natural.

Then her face dropped.

 When her body language screamed that she was embarrassed, that’s when Dick felt like a piece of shit.

“Look, we’re not…” She didn’t even know how to explain this. “We’re nothing. OK?”

Dick nodded slowly, “OK.”

And he believed her. Because she believed it. Whether that was the truth though, that was an entirely different story.

“We met years ago because I threatened to expose his identity to the world.”

Dick blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

Y/N at least had the shame to look guilty about it.

“You threatened him? You threatened Bruce Wayne? The man who dresses up as a bat and scares the shit out of the criminals of Gotham?”

“I didn’t plan on actually doing it!” Y/N tried to defend. “I needed to get his attention. And guess what, it worked.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose as she thought back in time. “I discovered a sex trafficking ring. I had all the information, everything to take it down. I just needed a little…muscle.”

“And you thought Batman could be that muscle,” Dick finished for her.

She nodded.

Then Dick looked at the all the equipment. Her story reminded him what she was fully capable of and why she was here in the first place. “How did you learn to do all of this?”

It was obvious that he was trying to change the subject and give her an out. But she let him still.

Y/N shrugged.

“Is this the part where you tell me about all your degrees from various Ivy League universities?” Dick teased.

“I didn’t go to college,” she told him evenly.

“You di–How is that even possible?”

“I don’t agree with institutionalized higher education.”

Dick rolled his eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” she warned him. “You didn’t go to college either.”

Dick scoffed and crossed his arms. “Of course that’s old information to you. Is there anything that you don’t know about me?”

She smirked at his obvious frustration. “I don’t know your favorite color.”

Though she had been teasing him before, her confession was genuine. And her soft tone didn’t go amiss with Dick.

For a moment, Y/N didn’t think he was going to tell her. 

“It’s red,” he told her softly.

“Hmm,” she was surprised. “I always assumed it was blue…because of the uniform and all.”

“Red was always the color of my family’s costumes.” He knew the answer was rather vague.

Y/N’s face turned sympathetic, “The Flying Graysons?”

Dick nodded.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad that she seemed to know everything about him.

“Red’s a good choice,” Y/N added with a sad smile.

But he realized what she was actually saying was her condolences. Somehow it was better than the forced and awkward “I’m so sorry” he constantly got.

Dick grabbed a chair and sat down to face her with such purpose.

“What else do you want to know?”

Y/N allowed herself to smile at the question. 

“Everything.”

—————

Y/N got addicted to Dick’s openness.

Once Dick Grayson decided to trust someone…he really trusted them.

He didn’t hide himself from Y/N.

Unlike Bruce, Dick was easy to read. But Y/N knew that wasn’t the case for everyone. She saw the way Dick communicated with old team members or even on comms with his brothers. 

But for Y/N, if she asked him something, Dick gave her the answer.

It was as simple as that.

There were no games, no hiding, nor withholding, not manipulation, no fear.

There was just Dick Grayson.

But Y/N also new he was capable of all of those things still. She’d seen him twist conversations and put the focus on the other person. He doesn’t seem to have any issue with blatantly lying. That’s when Y/N saw Bruce.

So why was she different?

————

“I can’t stay another second in this fucking house,” Y/N snapped one day.

They had just eaten dinner and were now sitting in one of the dens. 

Dick laughed at her. “It’s not exactly a prison, Y/N. You’re in a mansion with everything you could ever need – and more.”

But this was the most time Y/N had spent in one place. She was always moving, always on the run. Yeah, she stayed in Gotham for the most part, but she missed the dangerous streets of the city.

“I’m not taking you out,” Dick gave her a warning look as he pointed at her.

“OK. First off, Bruce said nothing about me not being able to leave.”

Dick gave her a look that said, ‘How dumb do you think I am?’

“And if you were with me, then it’s fine. Right?”

“Y/N,” Dick groaned.

“And finally, I can do what I want,” Y/N added with a serious look.

“Sure you can,” he smirked.

But Y/N was being serious and she stood up. “I’m not his prisoner.”

Then she was headed toward the garage.

“No one said you were,” Dick called out after her.

He jumped in front of her, blocking her path.

“Y/N, you know more than anyone that The Court has eyes everywhere. Your face shows up on one street camera for a second and you’ll be tagged. They’ll follow you back here and then nowhere will be safe.”

“I know,” she answered as if it were obvious. “But we’re just going for a drive. Half of Bruce’s cars have tinted windows. And we’re going to take the backroads on the fringe. No street cameras. I doubt we’ll even see another car.”

Dick was adding up the risks in his head, calculating every possible outcome.

“Is Nightwing scared of what Batman will think?” Y/N teased.

Dick raised his eyebrow in amusement and crossed his arms. “Whatever game you’re trying to play…we both know I can play it better.”

She gave him the most innocent face. 

Dick sighed. Was he really about to do this?

“Come on,” he told her.

“Really?” Y/N was shocked she got him to concede.

“But I’m driving. And we’re taking the bike,” he called over his shoulder as he turned on the lights of the garage.

‘Garage’ was an understatement. It looked more like a fancy warehouse that housed at least 20 cars and a dozen motorcycles.

“The bike?” Y/N questioned.

Dick chuckled. “What? You scared of riding motorcycles?” 

Before she had the chance to answer, he pushed a helmet into her chest. It would fully cover her face and had a tinted visor shield on it. 

“Need I remind you that this was your idea?”

Y/N glared at him and put on the helmet.

She watched a safe distance away as Dick started his motorcycle and revved he engine.

Even though she was wearing a helmet, he could still tell she was apprehensive.

“Come on,” he encouraged her gently before putting on his own helmet.

Slowly, she approached the motorcycle.

“Just swing your leg over – there you go,” he instructed.

Then he put on his helmet and Y/N realized there were comms linked between the two helmets so they could hear each other easily.

“Uhh…where do I–how do I hold on?” Her question stumbled out.

To her surprise, he didn’t verbally answer. Instead, Dick just reached behind him for her hands and placed them under his leather jacket and around his waist.

The contact felt strangely intimate. And Y/N hated that it made her heart race a bit faster. She hoped he couldn’t feel it as her chest bumped against his back. Hopefully he would just think it was her adrenaline and fear from the bike. 

“Good?” He asked as he revved the engine again.

“I think so?”

Suddenly they shot out of the garage and raced down the long drive that led to the gate. 

Y/N didn’t think Dick was going unusually fast, by any means. But the motorcycle made everything feel more extreme. She slowly started to put together why people liked riding them so much. It was a rush. 

Dick did as he suggested and took backroads, avoiding any main streets or heavy-traffic areas. Which meant a lot of twists and turns.

But Y/N was surprised when he started to slow down and pulled onto a street that was just surrounded by forests. The sun had just set and the sky was colored pink and purple.

Dick turned off the bike when they reached a clearing. It was a meadow, with tall grass that moved like the ocean from the night breeze.

Y/N took off her helmet and grinned at the sight. 

She turned to Dick, “Didn’t expect a city boy like you to know places like this…”

“City boy?” Dick looked insulted. “I was a traveling circus kid before Bruce took me in.” He looked out at the land, “This was one of our stops. We set up right over there,” he pointed to an open field where the ground was even and the grass was short.

Y/N’s face changed when she realized Dick had a connection to this place. It wasn’t just a stop off the highway. It meant something to him.

“Thank you,” she mumbled. It was hard to meet his gaze.

“For what?”

“Taking me here. For taking me anywhere, really.”

“Despite how enormous the manor is, it’s suffocating sometimes,” Dick tried to reason with her. “Has it really been so bad, being stuck with us?”

“No,” she quickly answered and took a step toward him. “How much time have you spent working with a team?”

Dick thought about it. “I mean, after leaving Bruce, I just went from one team to another. Even when I think I’m working alone, my family is always around the corner.”

Y/N gave him a sad smile, already knowing that would be his answer. “I never had that. It’s always just been…me.”

“Why?” Dick questioned. 

He knew better than anyone that heroes found other heroes, whether they wanted to or not. And he knew from experience that a team had a stronger chance of changing the world for the better. Even Bruce gave up on being a lone warrior – despite him trying to believe he still is one. 

“I don’t go after criminals that wear face paint and shoot guns, Dick. I go after the people that terrify others into silence and submission. I go after the people that most don’t even know we should be going after.” She shook her head. “It’s dangerous in a different way. And I never wanted to risk anyone else’s life but my own.”

“But when things go south, who’s got your back?” Dick challenged.

Y/N thought about it a moment and just shrugged.

Dick’s eyes saddened. “It doesn’t have to be that way, Y/N.”

She didn’t acknowledge his statement.

When there was a large gust of wind, Y/N closed her eyes as if it would help her body absorb the nature around them.

Dick allowed himself to take her in while her eyes were closed – all of her. 

He still didn’t know so much about her past – what she’s seen, what she’s been through. But he felt like he understood her as a person. He saw how intelligent she was, how she explained things to Tim without sounding condescending or embarrassing him for not knowing. Or how patient she was with Damian when he was his bratty self, and she clearly saw his behavior for what it was: a child who didn’t know how to converse with normal people. And when Jason was a sarcastic smartass, Y/N gave it right back to him. Dick also didn’t miss how Y/N offered to help Alfred cook and clean up as if it wasn’t his job.

The moment Dick was having as he looked at Y/N was interrupted by his phone.

“100 bucks that it’s Bruce,” Y/N griped.

And when Dick pulled it out from his pocket, lo and behold, Bruce’s name was lit on the screen.

“Hello. Yeah, she’s with me. We just went for a drive. We’re heading back now.”

As soon as he hung up, Y/N asked, “Was he pissed?”

“He was extremely calm, which is probably not a good sign.”

But Dick didn’t seem too concerned with Bruce’s wrath. He’d grown out of that long ago. 

“Come on,” he nodded to his parked motorcycle.

Y/N slid on the bike behind him with much more confidence and finesse this time. And there was no hesitation as she wrapped her hands around around Dick’s waist. He swore her grip was tighter too.

“Ready?” Dick still asked her. 

But then his hand seemed to have a mind of his and slid over the grip she had on his waist, brushing across one of her hands almost…affectionately.

He didn’t even realize he did it until a few seconds afterward.

“Mhmm,” Y/N hummed.

The ride back was less peaceful. The sun had gone down and if they weren’t in view of Gotham’s city lights, they couldn’t see their surroundings. It also didn’t help that they knew they were returning to the manor to face Bruce.

When they parked inside the garage and turned off the engine, they both heard Bruce call Dick’s name from inside.

Y/N winced, but quickly recovered.

She squeezed Dick’s upper-arm. “Don’t worry. This is on me.”

Before Dick couldn’t argue and say he wasn’t scared of Bruce, Y/N was walking back into the manor.

“Need I remind you that you’re number one on The Court of Owls’ hit list?” Bruce told Y/N darkly.

He was wearing a black turtleneck and slacks. It was an off-duty look for him, but he still looked like he was in some sort of uniform.

“Dick had nothing to do with it,” Y/N defended calmly. “I threatened to photoshop nudes of him and sell them to TMZ and the Daily Mail.”

Bruce shared a look with Dick over Y/N’s shoulder, proving that he already knew Y/N had made no such threat.

“I’ll be in my lab,” Y/N announced, deciding to end the conversation before it could turn into a lecture or argument. 

When she passed Bruce, Y/N turned around and gave Dick a grateful smile before mouthing, ‘Thank you’ to him.

Now it was just Bruce and Dick.

“If you want to lecture me, just get it over with,” Dick sighed.

“You know better,” Bruce answered.

“She was going to leave whether I went with her or not. I thought it was best to keep an eye on her. I wasn’t stupid about it, Bruce.”

“Don’t let it happen again.”

Dick glared at him. “We can’t keep her locked up here forever.”

“She’ll stay until we take down The Court. Until then, she’s at risk.”

Dick quirked an eyebrow. “Careful, Bruce. It’s starting to sound like you’re making this personal.”

But they both knew there was another meaning behind his words. Dick saw Bruce put together what he was really trying to say. ‘I know you two have a history. I know what happened between you.’

But Dick didn’t know what was happening now. 

Bruce just glared at him and said, “I could say the same to you.”

Then he turned and left.

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

Part III

Ooooooo. The drama!

Let me know what you think! Please 😔

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Bewitched | Damian Wayne

✦ pairing — older!Damian Wayne x Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 2.8k

✦ request — can I request a older!Damian wayne×reader where they have feelings for each other but are really stubborn and then while they're on a mission the reader almost gets shot and then confess to one another

✦ warnings — light angst, reader and Damian are hostile towards each other until they’re not, poorly channeled feelings, everyone else is tired™︎, mentions of violence, fluff

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Whoever decided you deserved to be punished with Damian Wayne’s presence must’ve hated you. Probably Tim, he had been the one who gave the leadership of the team to Damian. A sweet gesture between brothers that damned your existence.

You supposed he had been happy, Damian had looked pleased with himself, standing tall with an annoyingly smug look in his face as he spoke to his brother mere meters away from you and the team. Thankfully, he ignored you for the first week until he had to give you orders for a mission.

You had been miserable throughout it all, he made you feel so much disgust you felt you would throw up at any given moment. Not even Wally got the reaction you had, it was too visceral — surely no one hated Damian Wayne and his perfect hair more than you.

Your stomach flipped, just as you thought about it he ventured into the room. You glared at him, and he naturally glared back with an intensity that would’ve intimidated anyone who hadn’t heard him complain about petty things. At least he hated you too. With a scoff, Damian fixed his scarf —the green one that only made his eyes pop— and followed the path toward the elevator.

“Ten bucks you chicken out.” Wally’s voice snapped you out of your fixation on the spot Damian had been glaring at you from. Dragging your eyes to the side where the ginger was standing, you tilted your head in confusion.

Gar chortled, “Just ask Robin out and take us out of our misery.”

Unbelievable! They really thought you could ever grow to even tolerate the brat. “I’d rather shoot myself, thank you very much.”

Just because Rachel and Garfield’s relationship worked, it didn’t mean everyone in the team liked each other. And honestly, Gar was either blind or too optimistic to see Damian and you would kill each other if you were left alone in the same room. Wally would’ve probably liked that.

Wally and Gar shared a look. They did that a lot whenever you interacted with Damian — sometimes it wasn’t an interaction what triggered it, you could ask if Robin would stay at The Tower and they would do it; you could say something about how dumb his hood was and they would do it; you could avoid the gym when he was there and they would do it.

Ignoring them, you announced you would go take a walk to shake off the stress Robin gave you.

“You’re acting like a child,” Wally told you, shaking his head.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Damian was in a horrendous mood. He was being a brat, there was no doubt, but he couldn’t care less.

Titus tried to get his attention, whining and wagging his tail. Damian patted the hound’s head and went back to the book he had been reading. He couldn’t even focus properly, his mind was still reeling out of frustration.

He had come to tolerate Tim a long time ago, Damian now fully saw him as a brother. But Tim seemingly lived to torment him, there was no other explanation as to why he thought it would be a good idea to have him in the same team as you.

He had earned his place as leader, but he didn’t want you around. His gut failed him sparingly, and this time it said he should stay away from you.

Testing you would have been a good idea, perhaps you had mystical powers he wasn’t aware of. That would explain the way his chest tightened when he saw you, you were bewitching him to have a heart attack.

Dropping the book, he patted Titus’ head again before leaving his bedroom. He ran downstairs with an impetuosity he hadn’t felt in months.

Jason’s grunts and the tapping against a keyboard echoed around the Batcave. Damian double checked to make sure no one else was there. Walking directly towards the youngest of his older brothers, he leaned his back against the desk as he stared at Tim.

“Drake, do you have a moment?”

Tim didn’t take his eyes off the screen, “What’s up, Dami?”

He would’ve sneered at the nickname a year ago. Now he ignored it. “Have you tested (L/N)?”

Jason and Tim sighed loudly, tired of hearing him go on and on about you. Everyone in the house avoided Damian whenever he came back from Titan Tower just because of that, it seemed like he was the only one who hadn’t realized what was really going on.

Indulging him, Tim stopped typing and turned to look at his little brother. “Tested her for what?”

“Hidden powers. I believe she is manipulating everyone in the team.”

Tim pursed his lips, humming. It was getting harder and harder not to laugh at Damian’s theories and demeanor. God, if only Dick wasn’t busy! It would’ve been hilarious.

Jason couldn’t help himself, however. Standing from his planking position on the mat, he popped a water bottle open. Bringing it to his lips, he commented, “Maybe it’s time you ask her out.”

“That implies I don’t despise her which is a severely wrong misunderstanding of my character,” Damian stated pridefully.

Leaving the chair to stretch, Tim placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder. “You’ll learn to like her.”

“I’d rather stab myself and suffer an agonizing death.”

Jason caught the faltering tone in Damian’s voice but decided to keep it to himself. “You’re being childish, demon spawn.”

He opened his mouth to defend himself but was interrupted by Alfred who announced it was time for them to get ready for patrol.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Rachel insisted that it wasn’t hatred what you were feeling. Listening to her might have been wise, but it would mean entertaining the idea that you found Damian attractive. You couldn’t, it didn’t sound real.

You had said “he’s just not ugly” and tried to move on, but no one believed you.

It didn’t matter because you believed it to be true. You had faith in what you were thinking and feeling. The only thing you felt towards him was repulsión and it was mutual, he had been clear the week prior.

The team had tried to prevent you two from fighting, keeping you out of his way. Aware of the reason behind their tiptoeing, you stormed out and confronted him.

His words had affected you a little bit, you couldn’t deny that, but that was only because you had been accused of doing things you weren’t capable of.

You said things you had never imagined uttering to another living being. You had never been a hateful person, but Damian made you react aggressively 100% of the time. He hadn’t been different, you had never heard him say such things — not even when he faced Deathstroke.

The yelling got to the point where Dick, Kory, and Tim were summoned by Victor who didn’t have time to put up with more fights. After complaining about how sloppy you were and how better the team would be without you, Damian had stormed out on the four of you.

Dick and Tim had been unfazed, clearly used to the bratty behavior. You excused yourself and went directly to your bedroom. You didn’t see him until the next mission.

He regretted every time he had complained of a narrator using a variation of witnessing something in slow motion. He now understood exactly what the narrators meant, and he was doing so in the worst way possible.

Damian had never regretted many things, not since he started living with his father at least, but now he could think of multiple comments and gestures.

He needed to calm down. You were okay, everything was fine — you were capable of taking care of yourself, he didn’t have to worry. You hadn’t even been harmed, but he couldn’t shake the image of that bullet missing you by millimeters.

What would have he done if you were shot? It would’ve been his fault for not giving you the proper orders, for thinking you would eventually quit being part of the team and free him of the oppression in his chest and the lightheadedness.

Turning the lights of his bedroom off, he closed the door. The other wooden doors were closed too, Garfield usually slept for an entire day after missions so Damian imagined everyone was trying to be as silent as possible.

Well, your bedroom door was ajar. You were finishing folding the laundry you had left undone before the mission. Damian knocked out of politeness. “Busy?”

“I’ll have the mission report ready in an hour,” you told him, not bothering to grant him your attention. The only reason you were giving him explanations was that he was your team leader. “I just need to make a phone call.”

“Boyfriend needs to know where you are?” His tone was harsher than he intended. Damian hated the way you couldn’t even grace him with a glare now.

You folded the pastel yellow t-shirt on your lap carefully. “Sister, actually.”

“Oh? I wasn’t aware that you had siblings.” You hummed. Damian blurted, “Does that mean you don’t have a boyfriend?”

The insistence made you lift your head to stare at him. He could’ve been mocking you and you wouldn’t have been aware. But he wasn’t, his eyes were dancing over your face in expectancy of an answer.

“I don’t.”

“That’s good.”

Planting a foot on the floor, you shrugged. As you split the stacks of clothes to carry them with more ease, you asked, “Is there anything I can help you with?”

God, there were many things; the fact that you had asked was a win on itself. Damian walked into the bedroom, curiously analyzing the bookshelf. He had only been there once, when he was given a tour of the tower — remembering the unnecessarily mean comment he made about the color of the walls, he winced.

The color was fine, but he had hated the way his heart raced when you opened the door and greeted Tim and him. You had been so polite he didn’t recognize you the first time you rolled your eyes at him. He couldn’t blame you for disliking him, he just wished it was different, that you were in the same position he was and with the same worries that had caused him many sleepless nights.

He opened your closet to then take a stack of clothes from the bed. He liked the way you arranged them, it reminded him of the way his mother used to.

“Leave that, I can do it.”

Shaking his head, Damian silently picked another stack of clothes and like he had done before, stored it in your closet. “You should rest.”

He was scaring you now. Since when did he care about your wellbeing? And since when weren’t you healthy enough to do chores?

“I’m not tired.”

“You were almost shot at.”

Oh, that. You had assumed no one had been paying attention, you didn’t even blame them for that when the battle had been so intense.

“Well, you were almost stabbed but I’m not saying anything.”

“You technically are.”

“Don’t be a smartass.”

Damian made a pause. “What if I had been stabbed?” You looked up at him, so innocently confused he had to fight the urge of cupping your full cheeks. “What would you have done?”

Such a great question. Rachel’s voice echoed in your mind — she had been right. She was always right, actually, and you didn’t like it in this instance.

“Does it matter?”

“Sadly.”

“I don’t know,” you confessed. “What I said last week… I didn’t mean it.”

“I know.”

“How come?”

“I didn’t mean anything of what I said either.” He sat on the edge of the bed. Avoiding your eyes, he continued, “I wish— no, that would be a lie too… this isn’t how these things are supposed to go.”

Unsure as to what to say, you decided to remain silent. Only he knew what he wanted to express.

“I don’t want you to leave, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

You were more baffled now. “Is there a but?”

“No. I’m afraid there are things I do actually want you to do, though.”

“The report?”

He giggled. Damian Wayne giggled because of something you said. You had never heard a sound that compared with it, there was no point in trying to find something as adorable as a brooding giant giggling because of your perplexed questions.

That was until he said, “I want you to like me. I want you to trust me like you trust West and to talk to me… I want you to tell me about your life, all the things you like and hate.” He let out a scoff, “I know it’s asking too much, but I want you to…”

It shouldn’t have taken him being about to watch you get hurt to realize it. Then again, he wasn’t an expert in emotions. Damian dominated languages, he could talk his way out of almost any situation, he was an expert in many sciences, but emotions had never been his forte.

Emotions were weaknesses where he came from. He wasn’t the child scared of his mother catching him crying out of pain due to a broken arm anymore, but that child still lived inside him. Said child had morphed into a young adult scared of his own self catching him falling in love with the person he least expected.

His fear had come true, and running away from it wouldn’t only be useless but stupid.

Playing with his fingers, he stated, “I want you. That’s it.”

“Me too.” You put your hand on top of both of his.

Damian stared down at your hand for a moment, then turned to look at you. He needed you to be sure of what you were saying, he wouldn’t hold it against you if you couldn’t see past his awful behavior toward you.

You squeezed his fingers. “I mean it.”

Twisting his hand, he pressed his palm on yours. Wiggling his fingers as he intertwined them with yours, thumb brushing the back of your hand, he asked, “Is that okay?”

“More than okay,” you assured, making him grin.

You felt your stomach twist at his gesture. This time you didn’t find the sensation uncomfortable — on the contrary, it was a relief to finally understand it had never meant disgust. Your pride hated it, your mental health was thankful.

Your head drifted closer to his shoulder. The soft material of his sweatshirt invited you to rest it there, and Damian was delighted when you finally did it. He stayed still for a lingering moment, questioning whether he should do it or not — eventually he caved in and kissed the top of your head.

Craning your neck to look at him, now with your cheek pressed on his shoulder, you smiled at him. His eyes lit up as he smiled back, green orbs deviating to your lips.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Kissing you,” he answered truthfully.

Breathing out a small laugh, you said, “do it, then.”

He slowly dropped his lips onto yours, brushing them tentatively at first. You slid your hand off his as you kissed him back, placing it on his other shoulder as you lifted your head without breaking the kiss.

Damian’s arm wrapped around your plump waist, holding your face with his free hand while deepening the kiss. Trailing your hand up to his neck, your thumb traced his jaw while your lips sucked on his bottom lip.

“I still have to call my sister,” you reminded him as he pulled you closer.

Humming, Damian tightened his arm around you to bring you flush against him so you would straddle his lap. “I’m not stopping you, angel. I’m sure you can multitask.”

And so you called home, with an arm around Damian’s neck as your fingers played with his hair and he buried his face in your neck.

The next morning the kitchen was almost empty when you were ready for the day, only Rachel was there already which was how it usually went.

Eventually, the kitchen and therefore the dining room filled. The only one missing was Garfield, but you were used to that after missions. The chatter progressed as it did on a daily basis — Rachel mostly kept to herself unless she had something to say, Victor told Wally to stop talking with his mouth full of food, and Wally disobeyed Victor.

“Good morning.” Damian greeted the team, walking toward the cupboard to retrieve a mug.

Your teammates mumbled greetings. The clattering of silverware against ceramic got louder as they hurried their meal in case Damian and you decided it was a good time to fight.

A warm hand was placed on your hip. You carefully turned around, placing a hot mug in his free hand. “Green with a teaspoon of brown sugar.”

He kissed your forehead, lips still caressing your temple as he spoke, “thank you, beloved.”

Wally’s shocked screech woke Garfield up from his deep slumber two floors up.

[handsupinthebalorclub]

Anagapesis (Chapter 6)

pairing: the shield x reader

word count: 7, 534 (it’s a long one, sorry)

summary: Anagapesis (n.) no longer feeling any affection for something or someone you once loved. After three years, you’re officially the manager of the Shield once again. But, things aren’t quite the same as they used to be.

warnings: cursing, mentions of betrayal, trust issues

playlist: spotify

chapter one / chapter two / chapter three / chapter four / chapter five / chapter six / chapter seven

You pulled up to the diner and put the car into park. A purple luminescence shined off of the neon sign that hung above the front door and filtered into the car via the windshield, creating a soft violet glow. When you took the key out of the engine, the car slowly hummed to a stop.

You sat like this for a minute or two, taking in the aesthetic atmosphere of the place before you opened the car door and got out. The brisk January air hit you quickly and sent a chill down your spine. You wrapped your arms around your body for warmth and crossed the parking lot.

When you entered the diner, the familiar feeling of comfort built up in your chest. You tried to compress your smile, but flashed it anyway when you had reached the podium where the hostess stood.

“Hi, I have a reservation under the name Angle?”

The lady’s eyes flickered down to the paper in front of her, then back at you.

“Oh, yes. Follow me.”

You nodded and followed her as she ventured further into the diner. She brought you over to the back right corner of the diner where another man sat, presumingly Jason. He looked pretty generic and what you expected him to be, the muscles of his arms clearly visible through his brown colored suit. You opened your mouth to greet him, when something dawned on you. He was the guy that was fighting with Dean earlier this morning.

The hostess noticed your hesitation and gave you a concerned look.

“Is everything okay, miss?”

You quickly snapped yourself out of it and painted a reassuring smile onto your face.

“Uh, y-yes. Sorry.” You quickly sat down in the empty seat across from Jason.

“Your waitress should be with you shortly,” The hostess then began heading back to her podium, leaving you sitting there with a rather perturbed facial expression. Jason, on the other hand, looked amused with the whole situation.

“Well...can’t say I expected this,” You finally sighed. “But I’m willing to let the comments from earlier on go and pretend like this is the first time I’m meeting you.” You extended your hand towards him. “Y/n L/n.”

Jason gave your hand a firm shake before letting it go.

“Jason Jordan. Don’t take anything I said to heart, really. Just a way to get Ambrose to remember the new guy.”

“You’ve certainly made a strong impression, but the damage is kind of already done.”

Jason’s brow furrowed, but he flashed a pearly smile.

“What do you mean?” You debated on not telling him, but he would probably figure out Monday once Seth had a separate match from Dean and Roman.

“The Shield is going to have a different dynamic from now on.  Same group, they’re just going to be going after different titles. Speaking of titles, which one are you after? Universal? Do you have a tag-team partner? Do you need a tag-team partner?”

“I appreciate that you’re so eager to start the business talk,” Jordan shook his head. “But let’s get to know each other a little bit, yeah?”

You nodded, there wasn’t really any reason you could go against the idea. Plus, you were a manager that focuses on the personal life of someone, not just the professional. Who knows, maybe you would actually find the time you spent with Jason enjoyable.

“Alright, first off: how old are you, anyway?” He looked at you with an odd expression as you said this. “Don’t look at me like that. I swear, one wrestler found the Fountain of Youth a long time ago and just passed the secret down to all of you.”

“How old do you think I am?” He was way too amused with this conversation.

“Twenty-five?” You guessed after observing his face.

“Thirty.”

“See? At least I was right about you being younger than me.”

“You must have learned the secret too,” He remarked. “How old are you?”

“I’m a year younger than Rollins.”

“How the Hell am I supposed to know Seth’s age?”

“Exactly the point.” You smirked, which caused Jason to chuckle.

“I’ll find it out one way or another.”

“Alright. Have fun doing that.”

* * *

The next morning, you sat on the edge of the ring provided at the practice center. You had managed to convince Jason to show up earlier than your appointment with Seth, with a big enough gap that Seth wouldn’t see Jason and get suspicious. This way, you could get both analyses out of the way. You even tried to get Roman and Dean to come after Seth’s appointment, but Dean shut down the idea straight away.

You had already been there for roughly twenty minutes with Jason walked into the building. He sat his backpack down onto the wooden bench pushed up against the wall. He pulled off his shirt and looked at you with raised brows.

“So, how’s this going to go?”

“I called in a friend for you to have a surveillance match with.”

“I can take on your Shield boys any day.”

You scoffed as his comment but decided to refute it.

“It’s not any of the Shield.” You looked to your left, where a hallway was located, and saw the person you had recruited approaching the area.

“Who is it then?”

“See for yourself.” You shrugged as Finn entered the room, already prepared for the training. You looked over at Jason to see if there was a flash of recognition on his face, but you saw none.

“So, you’re Angle’s son?” Finn asked while sizing up Jason.

“Yup. Jason Jordan.” Jason took a step forwards and held out a hand for Finn to shake. Finn nodded and introduced himself while shaking Jason’s hand.

“Finn Balor.”

“Balor..where have I heard that name before?” Jason rubbed his chin when the two stepped back once again. “Wait, aren’t you the guy who was the first to win the Universal title?” A smile came onto Finn’s face, but it immediately dropped once Jason spoke again. “And then proceeded to lose it twenty-two hours later?”

You stifled a laugh at the sudden remark. There was a large part of you that knew condoning Jason picking a fight with your best friend was wrong, but the look of utter shock on Finn’s face was priceless. When you saw Finn open his mouth to retaliate, you quickly clapped your hands together to gain their attention.

“Alright, moving on! Only way to win is by pinfall. I’ll be doing the three count from out here, so try to pay attention. Any questions?”

“Nope.”

“Got it.”

The two men went to separate sides of the ring and climbed in. You made sure you were far enough from the ring to the point where you could still see what was going on, but not in the way if they wanted to take the fight outside of it. You picked up the clipboard that you had put on the apron earlier and prepared a pen, ready to take notes.

“Alright, whenever you guys are ready.”

Finn and Jason started by circling the ring, their eyes locked into each other. You watched intently, waiting to see who made the first move. It turned out to be Jason. He leaned forward and thrusted himself towards Finn. Finn went to go counter him, but Jason managed to grip Finn’s waist before he could and swept him off of his feet and onto the canvas. Finn was quick to recover, though. He rolled backwards and pushed off of the canvas to propel himself off the floor, successfully kicking Jason in the face as he did so.

This sort of cycle happened for awhile, leading you to write down that Jason seemed to focus on doing moves such as bucklebombs and a large variety of suplexes. These moves were aimed to put more stress on the chest and back, which you found interesting since Finn had a somewhat a similar style with using moves like the shotgun dropkick.

Jason had managed to pin Finn against the canvas, but Finn kicked out by the time you had got to one. Finn got up and went to go perform a sling blade, but Jason caught him by the torso and did another German suplex when he put Finn into the correct position. Once he hit the ground, Finn grabbed his opponent's ankle and dragged him down onto the floor and put him into a roll up pin. However, Jason kicked out at two.  

While Jason recovered, Finn pulled himself off of the floor and went to the corner. Using the turnbuckles, he climbed up to the top rope and jumped off it, hitting Jason’s midsection. You couldn’t help but cringe at the move. Whenever Finn did the Coup de Grace, you’ve always felt pity for the person on the receiving end, even if you weren’t particularly fond of them. Jason immedality rolled onto his side, clutching his stomach, but Finn placed him onto his back and went for the pin.

“One! Two!”

Jason didn’t move, he just laid there with a look of pain on his face.

“Three!”

Finn, obviously satisfied with his win based off of the giant smile, hopped onto his feet. He offered a hand out Jason, who accepted it, and helped him stand.

“Sorry about that, bud. Payback for your Universal title comment.”

Jason let out a small chuckle.

“You’re good. We even?”

“Yeah.”

As sweat dripped down their bodies, the two men exited the ring. You took a minute to let them catch their breaths. However, you couldn’t help but to notice Finn slowly inching his way towards you. You already know what he was about to do, so you quickly shot him a glare.

“Finn,” You warned. “Stop it, I know you’re trying to hug me and get me coated with your sweat but don’t even think about it. You’re gross.” Obviously this wasn’t the first time Finn had tried to do this.

“Now, y/n, why would I do that?” Finn looked at you with an innocent expression.

“I hate you. Anyway,” You turned to Jason. “Great job. I’ll go over the notes and talk to you about possible match ideas probably tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. Nice meeting you, Balor.”

“You too.”

Once Jason collected his stuff and walked out of the building, you turned to Finn.

“What time is your press event?”

Finn looked at his phone.

“In about thirty minutes.” You looked at yours.

“Seth will be here in forty. Mind sticking around for a little?”

“I mean, you hate me…” Finn acted as if he was going to pack up his stuff and leave. You rolled your eyes at him.

“Really?”

“Yup.”

“Okay, fine. Love you. There.” You sighed and placed your clipboard down onto the apron. “Will you stay now?”

“For about ten minutes, then I should leave to get ready.”

“It’s better than nothing.” You and Finn headed over the bench and sat down together.

* * *

The sound of the door being pushed open caught your attention. Seth walked in, his equipment in hand.

“You’re here early,” he commented.

“Finn wanted to work out earlier, so he gave me a ride here and I gave him some company. He just left like twenty minutes ago to go to a radio interview.”

“I was wondering why you weren’t in bed this morning, but I just assumed you’d get here somehow.” He placed down his stuff and turned to you whilst stretching. “What’s the plan?”

“Good question.” Finding a practice partner for Jason was easy. Seth, not so much. Finn was your only RAW representative, since everyone else you weren’t exactly on friendly terms with. If you could, you would have called a member of the New Day or someone else from Smackdown, but they were currently four states away. And, to top everything else off, using Roman or Dean completely went against the whole point of this exercise. “Throw yourself around the ring and I guess we’ll go from there. I’ll shout out directions, you can act like Samoa Joe is there and try to dodge it.”

Seth blinked slowly at first, then rapidly as he tried to wrap his head around the concept.

“Or I could just practice with you?”

“What?” You laughed, before realizing he was serious. “Absolutely not! Practicing with me wouldn’t help you at all, anyway.”

“C’mon why not? You know the basics of wrestling and you’ve done it before. As for Joe, I’ve beat him once and I can do it again.” Your silence was enough of a hint for Seth. “Alright, fine. Let’s do your idea.”

Seth called into the ring looking annoyed, but followed along when you began to call out directions.

“He’s on your left and going in for a stiff kick.” This type of interaction happened for a few minutes. “Great, now he’s trying to pull you into a suplex on your right.” Yet, Seth didn’t mood. “Rollins, I said right.” He just stood there with his eyebrows creased. You sighed and went closer to the apron, your movement finally catching his attention. “Okay, first off, he would pummeling the shit out of you right now. Second, what’s wrong?”

“I can’t fucking do this, y/n. For starters, I can’t dodge something I can’t see. And, I probably look like a dumbass! This is a waste of time!” He was about to exit the ring before you stopped him.

“Alright, alright. I guess bad practice is better than no practice.” You let out a deep sigh. “I’ll practice with you.” Seth nodded in satisfaction, a smile coming onto his face. “But, let me procrastinate a little bit first. Let’s sit in the middle of the ring and talk strategy for the real fight, just so we have a least something prepared.”

“Okay,” You and Seth sat down in the middle of the ring and begun to plan.

“We know Samoa Joe seems to favor doing power moves-”

“So, I have to focus more on agility to get him tired out.”

“Exactly. Same thing with Elias, too.”

“Trust me, I’ll be able to handle Joe.”

* * *

You stood in the center of the ring with Seth, him waiting on your cue to start. He was right, you had received basic wrestling training from each member of the Shield a few years ago, primarily for self defense, but it spiraled into you doing a few practice matches with them or Lana when there was downtime between shows. But, that didn’t exactly mean you were a hundred percent confident in your ability to wrestle and not break any body part in the process. The higher ups at WWE had a history of convincing managers to become Superstars, but you were perfectly fine with the idea of never stepping into the ring professionally.

“Alright, go.”

You and Seth circled around each other, each one trying to figure out who was going to strike first. It took awhile, but Seth finally realized that you weren’t going to attack and decided to rush you. You attempted to move out of the way, but he managed to grab onto your arm.

You automatically flinched, the same burning sensation like you had felt when he had hugged you after the first match took over your body like a spreading fire. It was a very harsh reminder that you had been forcing yourself to interact with Seth all this time. You didn’t a hundred percent trust him, but you still put yourself in situations like this where it was only him and you in an area.

You quickly snapped out of your thoughts and launched into your first instinct, which was to flip Seth over your shoulder and down onto his back. When Seth’s back made contact with the canvas, you heard a large breath escape his mouth.

“I was going to go easy on you, y/n.” Seth got onto his feet and rubbed his shoulder. “But after that, I’m not so sure.” You steadied yourself both physically and mentally.

“Good, you weren’t supposed to.”

The fight continued. You actually managed to get a few hits on Seth, and even pulled off a spear that you think Roman would be very proud of. Seth wasn’t lying when he said that he wasn’t going easy on you anymore, because by the four minute mark, your body was already aching in pain.  

Some circling occurred again before a sudden smirk was on Seth’s lips and in the matter of seconds, he had you in an arm bar. You quickly took in a breath, the feeling of your arm being locked into a place where it naturally should not be growing more painful by the second. You tried to twist out of it a few times, but to not avail. Eventually, the pain grew to be too much and you rapidly hit the canvas below you. It took Seth a few seconds to realize what you had just done.

“Did you just tap out?”

“Yes, I just tapped out! Can you let go of me now?”

“Oh shit, yeah. Sorry.” Seth quickly released you. You slowly stood up and rotate your shoulder

few times to make sure it still functioned correctly. Seth sat in a criss-crossed position on the canvas, his bare chest rising and falling quickly as he tried to catch his breath. “I didn’t hurt you, right?” The concern in his voice almost made you wince.

“Uh,” You tried to hide the awkwardness in your voice. You still weren’t used to Seth being nice to you after what happened. “No. I’m fine. Let’s call it a day, alright? I think you’re fine to go against Joe on Monday.”

* * *

You sat in a quiet corner of the hotel lobby, staring blankly at your laptop. Today was the last day to send in match requests and even though you had already put one in for Seth vs Samoa Joe, you still hadn’t set up anything for Roman and Dean or Jason. In the plan binder you had, Roman and Dean were set to fight Gallows and Anderson, but they had already set up a match against Heath Slater and Rhyno for Monday.

“I thought I saw you over here,” You looked up to see Finn approaching the red leather chairs where you sat.

“Yeah. I’m just trying to figure out match placements for everyone else but Seth since I already set his up.”

“Aren’t those due today?”

“Yes, which is exactly why I’m freaking the fuck ou-wait I just had an idea.”

“Oh no.”

You sent him a glare but replaced your annoyed expression with a sweet smile.

“Finn, do you happen to have a match set up for Monday?”

“No, I don’t but I know where this is going-”

“Do you? Do you really?”

“You’re going to ask me to have a match against Jason Jordan.” Finn plopped down in the chair across from you.

“Nope. You’re wrong, I’m going to ask you to fight with Jason and have a tag team match against Roman and Dean.”

“Huh, didn’t see that coming.”

“I think what you’re trying to say is ‘yes, y/n, I would love to be the greatest best friend in the world and be Jason Jordan’s tag team partner against Roman and Dean’.” You mimicked him, complete with a (very badly done) Irish accent.

“Really now?” Finn laughed at your poor impersonation with him. “Say if I do agree to this, which I’m not saying that I’m going to, what’s in it for me?”

“I don’t know. C’mon, Finn! Please?  I’ll do anything at this point. I really don’t need any more stress in my life.” You imagined what people would think if they saw you right now, someone who built their whole career off of being diplomatic and was once called ‘one of the best managers Raw has had to date’ by Kurt Angle, begging for help.

“Anything?”

“Okay maybe not anything…”

“Too late, you already said it.”

“Okay, fine. Anything, like anything anything.” You sighed. Finn placed a hand on his chin and he thought the offer over.

“Alright, I’ll do it.”

You quickly shot out of your seat and rested your laptop on the seat before throwing your arms around him.

“Thank you so much! I promise you won’t regret it. I love you.”

Finn laughed and returned the hug but held up a finger once you pulled away.

“But, this is only a one-time thing. Okay? I need to work on my own title shot.”

You sat back down into your seat and quickly began typing up the match request email as you continued the conversation.

“Oooh, what are you going after? IC or Universal?”

“Not exactly sure yet. Can your manager brain whip up any recommendations?”

“As Seth’s manager and all, I should convince you not to go after the Universal title….but as your best friend, I’m not going to do that.” You finished the sentence you were typing before giving Finn advice. “Okay, so with the Universal title, you’d have to fight Brock. No offense, but I really don’t see that going well. I know the Universal title means a lot to you, but I think it might be worth it to wait that one out and go after it when a more suitable person wins it. Someone you’ve fought before and know you can win against.”

“So, wait until Seth gets it.”

“That’s not really want I meant but technically, yes. Kevin Owens has the IC title right now and there’s no doubt in my mind that you can take him, so I think that might be the safer bet.” You went back to typing after saying this.

“Plus, that gives me the opportunity to beat the shit out of Miz.” Finn chimed.

“Miz is going after the IC title again? How many times has he had it so far?”

“Seven.” Finn quickly explained why he knew that information once you casted him a weird look. “Miz sat behind me on the plane ride over here and would not stop talkin’ to Bo Dallas. By the way, did you know Maryse was pregnant? I know the two of you don’t really get along, but she was with you on New Years, yeah?”

You looked at him in shock for a few seconds before the pieces started to click together in your brain.

“Wow that...that makes a lot of sense, actually. It explains why she wasn’t drinking at the club and her absences from Raw.”

“Can you imagine Miz as a dad?”

“Oh God, please don’t put that image in my head. That man is a baby himself most of the time.” Meanwhile, you had just finished typing up the email. After quickly reading over it, you pressed send. “Annnd done. Match request is in.”

* * *

A few days later, you stood in the gorilla with Dean and Roman, moments away from their match against Jason and Finn. Seth was also there, stating that he was going to be watching the monitors closely in case he had to intervene.

“We’ll be fine, bro. Focus on pumping yourself up for your match, alright?” Roman clapped his hand onto Seth’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“Alright, alright. It’s just weird seeing you guys about to go out there without me.”

You had to admit, it did feel very strange that the boys had two separate matches tonight, meaning you had to avoid being hit in the crossfire twice as much than usual. It felt even weirder seeing them in their own custom merch and not the tactical army vests you had come re-accustomed to over the last few weeks.

“Ew. Okay, no.” Dean grunted. “We’re not doing this sappy shit. We’re going to go out there and kick some ass. So are you. Stop acting like we’re breaking up or something. We’re still the Shield.”

Seth opened up his mouth to retaliate, but Dean’s music erupting from the speakers stopped him. Dean gave a three finger salute before rushing out onto the stage. After a few seconds of Dean’s music, it cut over to Roman’s.

You and Roman shared a look, him flashing a smile in your direction before the two of you pushed past the curtains and walked to the ramp. Your eyes scanned the crowd, confusion evident on some of their faces. Roman made his descent down the ring, you following not too long behind. The two of you joined Dean, who had already made it to the outskirts of the ring by this point. Roman held open the top and middle rope for you. You mumbled a quick thank you as you stepped into the ring. As Dean and Roman got into the ring, the arena was overtaken by darkness and Finn’s theme song begun to play.

When the lights came back on, it was occupied by a considerable amount of fog. Finn was now stood on top of the ramp, a giant smile on his face as he grabbed the sides of his jacket. He walked around, giving high-fives to fans before a familiar sound played on the speakers. You followed along with the motions in your mind as Finn threw up his arms, corresponding with his song. After that movement, he looked towards the entrance of the gorilla, indicating that it was time for Jason to make his debut. In all honesty, you had to admit that you were kind of intrigued about what his music was going to sound like.

I’m the next generation of great, the next generation of great…

You tried not to scoff at the lyrics as Jason walked out. You heard Roman make a confused noise next to you.

“What’s up, Ro?” You turned to him, ignoring Finn and Jason making their way down the ramp.

“Who’s that? I’ve never seen him before.”

“Dunno-” Dean shrugged in response before quickly doing a double take. “Wait, it’s that punk! The one that was shit talking us earlier!”

You squinted, pretending as if you had not been in contact with Jason since then.

“Huh. Yeah, it is.”

Dean was already starting to pace around the ring by the time the two other men entered. Dean was ready to get up in Jason’s face then and there, but Roman’s hand clasping down onto his shoulder stopped him.

“How about I go first?” Roman offered, knowing fully well that releasing Dean into the match was going to start chaos too early. However, Dean had another idea as he shook off Roman’s hand and stepped forward.

“Or I could go first and shove a kendo stick up this dude’s ass-”

“Dean!” You quickly snapped as you stepped in front of him, blocking his path to Jason, who decided to rile Dean up more by making dog noises, an obvious nod towards the first conversation you two had with him. You deeply sighed and rolled your eyes. Not helping, Jason.

“Ready to start the match?” You heard the referee ask from outside of the ring.

“Please.” You answered. You sent Dean a warning glare. “Apron. Now.”

“Fine, fine.” Dean huffed before following you over to the side of the ring. When the ref climbed

into the ring, Finn and Jason began to discuss who should go first and ended up deciding on Finn.

When the bell rang, Roman was the first to move. He landed a few hits onto Finn’s side, but Finn was quick to retaliate. You stood there in awe, not even paying attention to Dean’s comments, and watched the match. In the ring were two people who you considered to be great friends to you and were also considered to be greatly talented at what they did. It was a honor to see them fighting, honestly. Every move was fluid, even the way Finn propelled himself over Roman’s towering body looked magnificent. You admired the both of them endlessly.

Finn went into for the pin, but Roman kicked him off effortlessly. You really wanted to cheer for Finn at a few points, but knew it would set a bad image. So, you just cheered loudly in your head every time Finn made a move. The two grappled for a little bit more until Finn jetted over to where Jason Jordan stood and tagged him in. A smile blossomed on Jason’s face as he got into the ring and grabbed a hold of Roman. Roman quickly reversed the hold and launched Jason over his shoulder.

This was intriguing to you in a totally different way. Roman had been in this industry for years and this was Jason’s debut match. They were opposites, and you tell just by the way their moves were calculated. Roman’s a powerhouse, and he knows it, so his moves revolve around the concept of forcing his opponent onto the ground as quickly as possible. The person can’t react because they have no time to. Meanwhile, Jason’s moves are more position based and can easily be broken out of, which Roman did plenty of times by this point. Jason would have to take a few seconds to adjust every time he picked up Roman to perform a suplex, giving Roman just enough of a time frame to interfere. Plus, Jason’s moves were also time consuming in another way, since they were designed to gradually weigh down his opponent by conflicting pain onto certain areas. You did have to applaud Jason for his ability to quickly recover, though. Every time Roman would throw him down onto the ground, he was quick to jump back onto his feet. Eventually, Roman tagged in Dean.

“Took you long enough.” Dean commented as he slinked into the ring. In normal Dean fashion, the first thing he did once he got a hold of Jason was Dirty Deeds.

“He’s going to tear that poor kid apart.” Roman chuckled as he watched the fight progress. “By the way, do you know why Finn would have partnered up with him? I mean, you guys are pretty close, right? I doubt he’d want to go against you willingly.”

You licked your lips and made an inward note of this conversation. You didn’t really think Roman, or anyone for that matter, would have picked up on that.

“Don’t worry, there’s no bad blood between him and me all of the sudden. He came to me earlier this week and said that Stephanie asked him to do a tag team match with a newbie in order to get the new guy to look good. Apparently he has some connections or something. Anyway, I woke up with this match just in my inbox. Stephanie probably set it up against us because she’s not exactly our biggest fan.”

“Makes sense.”

With that, the two of you put your focuses back onto the match. Jason had climbed out of the ring to regain his breath, but Dean immediately flung himself between the ropes and took down Jason. Dean picked Jason’s body off of the floor and slid him into the ring before putting himself back in. Dean went to go cover Jason go for the pin, but Jason quickly pulled him into a roll up.

One! Two! Three!

Neither you, Finn, or Roman moved out of shock.

“Did-did they just win?” You asked, not believing what had just happened.

“Uh, yeah.” Roman shook off his shock and went to go retrieve the broken Dean, who was sitting on the canvas with his mouth hung open. Finn also recovered from his shock and went to go celebrate with Jason. You too went into the ring, foreseeing the shitstorm that was about to happen when Jason was handed a microphone.

“Did you decide to take my advice, Ambrose? Did the Shield finally split?”

Murmurs erupted from the crowd.

“Can I get a microphone?” You asked a stagehand outside of the ring. They quickly turned on a mic and gave it to you.

“Here comes to the dog trainer.” Jason snarkily said.

“The Shield didn’t break up and isn’t going to any time soon.”

“Huh, really? Where’s Seth, then? Plus, I don’t see you guys all dressed up in that swat get up anymore. Jeans and a tank top,” He referenced to Dean’s outfit. “Doesn’t really represent all that justice mumbo jumbo that the Shield stands for to me. Finn, what do you think?”

Finn quickly shook his head.

“I’m staying out of this.”

Jason didn’t look fazed by Finn’s answer. Instead, he turned to the crowd.

“How about you, WWE Universe? Do you think these guys are representing justice right now?” Jason was met with a few yells from the crowd, supposedly agreeing with him.

“It doesn’t matter what we’re wearing. Hell, we could be out here in damn bunny suits. The Shield is still the Shield, end of story.” Now Dean had a microphone. Great.

“Now that I’d pay to see.” Finn lightheartedly commented.

“I thought you were staying out of this, Balor.” Dean stated. Finn smiled, but took a step back so he could rest on the ropes. Roman took the microphone away from Dean and looked at Jason.

“Who are you anyway, man? You’ve got a lot of balls to just pop out of nowhere and start attacking us.”

“The name’s Jason Jordan. Remember it.” Jason smiled and dropped the microphone. His music hit the speaker, signifying that you all were officially done there.

* * *

You wanted to confront Jason for starting more drama the moment you stepped into the gorilla, but you were informed that Seth’s match versus Samoa Joe had been moved up a time slot by production. This meant that Seth’s match was next.

You tilted your head back and let out a sigh, but quickly put on your game face. As Joe walked out onto the ramp in tune with his music, you went over to where Seth stood near the curtains.

“Rollins can you do me a favor and make this quick?”

“Managing us is a whole lot easier when we’re together, huh?”

“I never thought I’d miss a hotel bed this much.”

Seth let out a chuckle. His music begun to play.

“After you,” Seth smiled as he held open the curtain. You nodded in acknowledgement and walked out onto the ramp with Seth in tow. Joe watched intently as the two of you came down the ramp. You slowed down your walking and allowed Seth to go in front of you. “Scared of Joe, are we?” Seth teased as he entered the ring. You stood on the apron, and leaned onto the ropes.

“Nope, it’s you he wants. Not me. I don’t want to get stuck in the crossfire.”

Seth ignored your comment and rolled his shoulders. The two men stared at each other until the bell rang, then launched into fighting. You recoiled when Joe’s arm connected to Seth’s bare chest multiple times, leaving his skin temporarily pink.

At one point Joe had been on his hands and knees, recovering from a suplex Seth had delivered, when you noticed Seth run to the other side of the ring. Your face drained it’s color as you watched Seth run towards Joe, your brain connecting the dots on what was about to happen.

Seth jumped into the air and brought one foot down on Joe’s head, sending him into the canvas. Whilst Joe laid flat on the ground, Seth quickly pinned him and won the match. Seth looked towards you with a giant smile when his music hit, expecting a different reaction than the one you gave. You rolled your eyes, hopped down from your position on the apron, and begun walking back up the ramp. Seth’s brows furrowed as he quickly followed you.

“Y/n? What’s wrong? What did I do?” When you turned around to face Seth back at the gorilla, you expected to see a posse of cameras following him, but there surprisingly were none. This was probably due to the temper tantrum Joe was having back in the ring. However, there were some people giving you confused looks as they continued their jobs around you.

“What’s wrong? What do you mean what’s wrong? I don’t know about you, Rollins, but the last time I checked, the Curb Stomp was banned from WWE!”

Even a company such as WWE, where the main focus was people beating the shit out each other, had rules. One of the those rules are wrestlers are not allowed to perform any moves that are on the “banned” list for their own safety and the safety of others. Moves like Seth’s Curb Stomp, something that can permanently damage the neck and result in paralysis or death, were on that “banned” list.

“No one stopped me, though! I even got the win! Maybe Hunter and Steph just had a change of heart and saw how awesome the Curb Stop really is?”

“Or they decided to let you get away with it and then just hit both of us with thousands of dollars in fines! I’m supposed to be the one who advises you not to do crazy shit like that!” You we’re ready to go off on Seth some more, but once you saw Jason walk by and turn the corner into another hallway, your anger switched targets. You took a deep breath and looked at Seth, devising a plan. “Ugh. I just-I just need to calm down. We can deal with it later. I’m going to take a walk.”

With that, you walked past him and went in the same direction Jason had went. You found him about to turn into the males’ locker room. You quickly caught his attention.

“Oh hey, y/n.” Jason was all smiles when you approached. You looked around the hall, not wanting to get caught being on friendly terms with him. You spotted a meeting room down the hall and gestured Jason to follow you. You knocked to make sure no one else was in there. After a minute of silence, you opened the door and brought Jason into the room. The moment Jason shut the door you looked at him with a bewildered expression and threw your hands up for emphasis.

“What was that?”

“I don’t know! I just saw an opportunity and pinned him! Crazy, right?”

“No, not the win!” You sighed before backtracking. “Even though I’m super impressed and kind of confused on how that exactly happened, no offense. I was talking about the whole ‘Shield Split’ thing. I thought we were over this!”

“Y/n, it’s just a-”

“Just a way to get them to remember the new guy. Yeah, I get it.” You seethed.

“Wow. You’re all sunshine and rainbows right now, aren’t ya?”

You shot Jason a glare and settled down into one of the chairs around the meeting table. You took a second to run your hands through your hair before slumping your shoulders.

“Okay look, I’m sorry for snapping but I’m just under a lot of pressure right now. Managing you and The Shield are hard enough but pulling Finn into all of this? You starting shit that is ultimately going to set Dean off? All the way back to the gorilla he was telling me to schedule a rematch for next week. And then Seth had to go and perform an illegal move-”

“What?” Jason interrupted with a shocked look on his face. “An illegal move? Really? What was it?”

“His stupid Curb Stomp. So now I just have three giant monkey wrenches in my plan.”

“Y’know, you always don’t need a plan, right? Sometimes you just have to go with the flow.”

“Y’know, you always don’t need a plan, right?” Sometimes you just have to go with the flow.” Seth popped his head over the top of your couch, completely ignoring the Transformers movie he begged you to buy playing on the television.

“Have you ever met me, Seth?” You responded with a cocked eyebrow.

“Sadly, yes.”

“Reminder that this is my house and I can kick you out at any minute if I want to.” You chuckled before looking back at your laptop screen.

You two had finally received a few days off, which was enough time for you to finally fly home and sleep in your own bed for once. Seth decided to join, which wasn’t really uncommon between the two of you. Every now and then, you would take turns going to each other’s house to continue the ritual of ‘Shield Sleepovers’. Granted it was more like ‘Seth and Y/n Sleepovers with sometimes a guest appearance of Dean or Roman via phone call’ but ‘Shield Sleepovers’ had a better ring to it.

You and Seth were actually supposed to play video games that night and you were actually thinking that tonight may be the night that you would beat Seth in a Madden game, but your activities were put on hold when you got a email stating that the individual flights to London, the next place for the RAW tour, you had booked for you and Seth, along with Dean’s, had been canceled. You managed to find another flight for you and Seth that was pretty much a red-eye flight, but at least it was something. You two would be able to still get to the hotel at a reasonable time. However, you were struggling to find Dean a flight from his town to London that would be within a decent time frame. You went to go click on a connecting flight that would require Dean to switch airports at Dublin, but your laptop suddenly closed in front of you and was taken away. You made a noise of confusion and looked up to see Seth with your laptop tucked under his arm.

“Okay, this needs to stop. You’ve been at this for two hours now and I can tell you’re starting to get beyond stressed.”

“What? No I’m not.” You tried to cover up the strain in your voice with a chuckle, but Seth didn’t buy it.

“I’ll text Dean and tell him that he can book his own flight. This is supposed to be your night off.” Seth’s voice got quieter and he exited the kitchen and ventured down the hallway.

“It’s Dean’s night off too!” You called out to him, wherever he may be.

“Yeah but Dean’s job doesn’t really require him to book flights, meaning he can do it on a day off. That’s basically in your job description, so you can’t.” When he returned, the laptop wasn’t in sight.

“Did-did you just hide my laptop from me? In my own house?” You sputtered.

“Yes, yes I did.” Seth came behind you and put his hands onto your shoulders. He lightly guided you onto the couch and sat you down. “Now, let’s just relax so I can beat your ass in Madden.”

Seth started up the game and you two begun to play, but after a few minutes, Seth realized you were barely touching the controller.

“You’re still stressed aren’t you?” He paused the game and turned to you.

“Knowing Dean he’s going to forget or-”

“Y/n. Stop.” The serious tone in Seth’s voice caught you off guard and forced you to listen. “Dean’s perfectly capable. Lately you’ve been stressing yourself out so much that I’m starting to worry about your health. You’re always working and you pull all-nighters more than anyone I know. I know you think you can do everything yourself but you need to let Dean, Roman, and I give you a hand sometimes, okay? We’re not going anywhere, I promise.”

You opened your mouth to refute him, but realized he was right. The dark circles under your eyes proved that.

“Alright, alright. I’ll lay off the work for a little bit and try to relax.”

“Good!” Seth beamed. “By the way, I’m always here if you need to talk about anything. And don’t give me that ‘you can’t promise always because scientifically there’s going to be a time when-” shit. I mean it when I say always.”

“Y/n!”

The sound of Jason’s panicked voice brought you back to reality. When he saw you come to, Jason let out a relieved sigh.

“You were turning really pale. I thought you were going to pass out on me.”

You casted him a smile and tried to hide your shaking form from the memory you just had.

“I’m fine. By the way, I’m sorry that I yelled at you.”

Jason looked at you with a confused expression.

“You’re good.” He looked down and noticed the way your leg was bouncing rapidly. “Y/n, are you sure you’re fine? Did your blood sugar drop or something? Do you want me to go get the medics?”

“No, no. I’m fine. Just remembered something that’s all.” You pushed yourself out of your seat and did your best to smile. “But I am going to go walk around for a little bit to get my head on straight. De-stress, y’know?”

“Yeah...I guess....I'll see you later?”

You quickly nodded and slipped out of the room to go find either Finn or Roman to help calm your nerves.

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[solarrene]

Home Again

Jason Todd X Plus Size reader

Death, loss, grief, trauma.

Chapter Two

They knew of death, and none of them had a good thought of it, no one does and should anyway. But this, this was not death they were familiar with and it hit them like a truck. The atmosphere was bright. It was not what they had expected to be.

By Grace Through Death

Two days later, they found themselves in their jet plane heading to London. Everyone of them dressed in black. Alfred was holding a bouquet of red roses, ever so gentle with it. When Alfred had talk fondly of not only Amelia but Y/N as well, Dick followed Alfred to get his own flower, when Dick realized all the rest followed to him, he suggested they buy only one stem each with the intention of giving it to Y/N. Bruce had his own bouquet. And there they were now, silent, each with a flower in their hold.

Few more hours then, they arrived at the cemetery. Thankful they were as they notice they were not late but a little early. As they walk almost where it was held, a woman in a black dress came into view, walking to them. Alfred recognizes them and immediately smiled. It was Y/N.

"Alfred," She beams when they were near enough and hugged him. "I thought I saw someone familiar and here you are." Y/N tells as she stays in their hug. "Oh, Alfred, how long has it been?" She whispers but enough to be heard.

"Too long, my dear, too long," He replies, now looking at each other. The exchange was watched deeply by the family, without even trying, Alfred's fondness came to their front, of how he talked about her then, it was there.

They let go of each other and Y/N turns to the family, feeling little to their gaze.

"These are for Amelia." Alfred hands the bouquet to her and Y/N held it.

"She'll love this, thank you."

They heard a cough and it came from Dick, who encouraged Damian to step out as he was now holding each of their roses. Y/N smiled down at the boy, waiting for him to speak.

"These are for you, from us." Damian speaks but looking down on the ground as he held out the flowers.

"My lovely, they're beautiful," She gently traces his face with her fingers—yet cautiously, not wanting to make the child uncomfortable. Damian looked up to see her smiling, his face flushed and looked down again, making the others chuckle to themselves.

Before she could say thank you again, Bruce speaks up, "These are for you too." He offers, smiling a little. Y/N, taken back, laughs as her hands were now full with their flowers. If they thought her smile couldn't be bigger, they were wrong. "Thank you...for these beautiful flowers, for being with Alfred here today...for being here, thank you." She nods to them, trying her best to look at each of them. They wonder, for someone who just lost their mother, how could she have the strength to smile like she does.

They took their place as the ceremony started. Alfred was beside Y/N, their hands held from the beginning as to its ends.

It was like a switch, Y/N, had never felt so empty, staring at the coffin as they lay it down deeper until it was not to be seen. She stand motionless, just there, not hearing anything, numb, where she didn't feel Alfred's hold anymore, almost lifeless. No pain she felt, she wasn't feeling anything.

Alfred didn't miss a beat of her state, he felt for her, differently the same pain they were having. Even in front of it all, he still couldn't believe it, he couldn't believe he was there now, above the grass, the coffin going down, the tombstone, the priest, everything, he couldn't believe it. His heart was still eating itself.

Grief comes in his door again. Unprepared.

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

Laughter. Laughter could be heard as they enter a house. They felt uneasy, seeing how bright the house was with curtains and windows open, vases with flowers every corner, a soft melody of piano playing in the background, and one which confused them more; there were more than enough people smiling and laughing together.

They knew of death, and none of them had a good thought of it, no one does and should anyway. But this, this was not death they were familiar with and it hit them like a truck. The atmosphere was bright. It was not what they had expected to be.

Y/N can be seen walking back and forth to her visitors, offering foods and drinks, talking to them, and smiling with them.

She sees them enter and walk over. "Hello....please, make yourselves at home," she stops, putting a hand on her face. "I'm sorry, was that a weird thing to say? I dont-" As she laughs at herself, not knowing what to say further.

"Don't be, it's fine." Bruce uttered, Y/N breathes, collecting herself, "We have foods and drinks in the kitchen, if you're hungry, please help yourselves."

Dick, Cassandra, Tim, Stephanie and Duke didn't need to be told twice and head straight to the kitchen. Wanting to be distracted and away. Y/N chuckles as she sees them. She notices Jason, as someone who were the tallest among them after Bruce, with a white streak on his hair, she remembers his name from what Alfred has told her before, Jason— had been quiet or visibly uncomfortable ever since they have arrived at the cemetery. But who can blame him, Y/N thinks.

"Lovely children you have, Mr. Wayne." She says, walking with Alfred, following Bruce, Damian and Jason. Alfred smiles at her statement, couldn't help but felt proud of himself and for Bruce.

"Just call me Bruce, and yes, they are. Handful often but they are." Bruce replies, Damian was heard grumbling by his Father's remark and this made Y/N giggle.

"Don't you want to eat with your them?" She asks him, matching his pace so she could be beside him.

"I'm a vegetarian." Damian says firmly.

"Oh, that wouldn't be a problem. We made foods that you can eat, do you want to come with me?" Y/N offers her hand to him, Damian looks at it, hesitating, and remembering he needed, or rather wanted to be on his best behavior for Alfred, and with Y/N being as she is, Damian couldn't decline.

They were quite taken back as she held Damian's hand, when they entered the kitchen, the others were too. She took a minute to getting Damian's food and gave it to him. He mumbled a small thank you, taking a seat besides his siblings and started to eat.

"You have a lovely home," Duke speaks up over the silence that was starting to be heard. Despite not knowing them, she felt their sincerity.

"Thank you," she smiles, but then realizes she needed to get back to her guests. "If you'll excuse me." She nods, before walking out the kitchen.

After going here and there to her guests, she notices a tall figure out on the porch. She goes outside, wanting to check up on them. As she stands beside the person, she saw it was one of Bruce's son, the man with the white streak.

"Hi, I don't mean to bother but are you alright?" She asks unsurely, glancing at him. Jason was leaning his arms down on the banister, tightening and unclenching his grip on it, staring ahead but much aware of her presence.

Jason breathed out from his mouth, uneasy. "I...I'm not too fond of funerals." He mutters. Jason didn't have a particularly good thought of death and everything that comes with it. Too many haunting memories that continues to prey him. It scared him, feeling as if he was on the edge of being back where he was haunted.

After their discussion two days ago, Jason was tense. Bruce knew of this and had a talk with him. Alfred did as well, ever so they were concerned for their boy but to which again dismissed by Jason, telling them that he wants to be there and that he can handle it. Which he did handle, but it started to overwhelm him since he stepped foot in the house for the funeral reception.

The atmosphere of the place, it was as if they welcomed death so gracefully, if they knew of it even. He thought to himself if the people were faking it, putting up a front, but it was too real that he was starting to believe it. It couldn't be true. And Y/N, he saw how her face lit up when she saw Alfred, how tender she was at the time, how she emitted light at such time they were now. If they didn't know anything, no one could guess that she had lost her mother. He didn't understand it and it bothered him.

"No one is anyways," she laughs softly, and there it was again, Jason notices as he looked at her. Had he no heart, he would have blatantly asked her if she was faking it but he didn't have the guts to. Cruel it would be, he thinks.

Silence fell between them, hesitating to speak or ask what was on their mind. Y/N erased her lingering thoughts and turned again to the man.

"Wouldn't you like to eat? My cakes are not as good as Alfred's cookies but rest assured it can live up to its taste." She offers, catching the gleam in his eyes when she mentioned the famous cookies of Alfred as she smiles, Jason found himself doing the same thing, he didn't realize the tense in his body he was holding wore off as he follows her to the kitchen.

Few hours later on the reception ended. Although, there were only a few guests, her mother's friends, a few of hers and the neighbours, it seemed and felt like it was a lot. Y/N was more than grateful.

She sees Alfred in the empty kitchen, standing mindlessly in the middle of it. She enters with a quiet knock on the door. "It bleeds of her, doesn't it?"

Alfred breathes, closing his eyes after reeling the place in. "It does," he whispers, with now eyes opened, he sees a vision, a memory of Amelia, him, a little Y/N there in the kitchen, baking, they were laughing. Him and Amelia as if they were dancing while working together.

"It's good to see you, Al." She says walking to hug him, "I missed you," she mumbles against his shoulder.

"As have I, darling," he breathes, feeling his tears for the first time today, his heart tugging its nerves. Though her heart pounds heavy against his, breath ragged, she hold onto him more firmer, trying to fight her tears.

"As have I." They hold onto each other longer the time can give them.

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Much to her demise, when she started to clean and fix up things, Mrs. Ford, her neighbor, the closest friend of her mother, stopped her before she could do anything. Alfred had told her they were gonna be picked up for at least half an hour, so she got her things from her bedroom. To her surprise, Jason was already in the middle of the stairs, waiting to get her things to help her, flustered as she thanked him. The exchange didn't go unnoticed by the family and smiled to themselves.

Her people knew she was gonna go away for a while, and they all supported the idea. So now here they were, Mrs. Ford, promising her to take care of their home and to take her time, others ushering the same notion to her.

Although Alfred was beside her throughout the time, her doubts still lingers in her of her staying with the Wayne family as they were now driving to the airport. Things were happening fast. She had thought about it thoroughly even after she agreed, at least in some way, her mind was distracted somewhere else. She was more than inclined to thought about other things. But now that it was happening, now that the car pulled up in front of a jet, had her heart thumping.

Alfred sensing this, puts his hand on top of hers, bringing her back. "My dear, I know you already have agreed, but are you sure you want to do this?" Alfred tried not to curse at himself for not seeing it before, how careless it might have been of him to persuade her to go.

And Y/N realizes this and felt bad as he was. She shakes her head and squeezed his hand, "No, no, it's fine. I'm fine, I want to, just a bit worried."

Alfred sighs as his doubts goes away, smiling, "I assure you, again, you'd be welcome there, and I'll always be with you." He promises and Y/N nodded. They head into the jet, sat in front of each other. It was quiet once again, it wasn't uneasiness nor dreadful but just silent.

A book in her hand, just looking at it from time to time, with a picture of her mother between the pages. She looked up from her book as she realizes the youngest of them, had just sat beside Alfred, sneaking a glance at her.

She smiles, putting the book in her lap. "Hello, I've never got to ask your name earlier." She says softly, which made Damian looked at her. She did know his name, and everyone's, but she just wanted to do so, and thought maybe that could warm up the child to her.

"It's Damian," he mutters.

"Beautiful name." Y/N compliments, Damian felt the heat on his cheeks and sinks in his seat. Dick, Cassandra, Duke, Stephanie, who were across them, was watching them with amusement, specifically their little brother that keeps being flustered. As well as Jason and Tim in front of them, still having a view to look at them, as for Bruce, who at the back of Alfred, listens to them intently.

Y/N nodded for Damian to go on as she hints he wants to say something. Damian blows out a breath, nodding to himself and speaks. "I want to ask you some questions and I...can you answer honestly?"

Y/N raises her eyebrows, not expecting that but smiles at the child none the less. She mouths an okay and waits for him to speak. The others were too, anticipated, or scared even.

"I have noticed your eyes, from the looks of it, you haven't been crying. I find it very odd, and why is that?" Damian went straight for it, taking everyone by surprise. Alfred threw her an apologetic glance and Y/N dismisses it with shaking her hand a little.

She leans back on her sit, now looking down at the book on her lap. "It does seem like that, doesn't it?" she laughs and thinks for a moment, if she should say her truth, especially to a child, especially to a family she had never been with before. But she supposed she should be honest as the question was evident in everyone, she was much observant just as the child.

"I have been. When I arrived at the hospital, I was immediately met with the news of her not making it, I cried just as I received of it, and every night since then, I have been. But I made sure it couldn't be tell that I was, I didn't want anyone to worry," she says, feeling the dryness of her eyes. "But I think that made some of them worry more by doing so," chuckling, remembering a few of her friend's worried faces. "And my mother...she had always disliked it when I cried, so I try my best not to." Y/N finishes, with her pursed lips smiling a little.

Y/N feels thankful that with time, she had learn to have control over her body, emotions, to prevent her from crying at such subjects. Had she not, she would have been sobbing by now. Anyone would have been.

Damian took a few seconds, taking in what she said. From the moment he saw her, her eyes was the first thing he noticed, clean and not a mess. It did make sense she would appear appropriately, but no evidence of her misery was shown, that is what everyone got thinking.

"At the funeral reception...everyone seemed to be fine. Isn't funerals normally unbearable and dreadful?" Damian warily says, speaking out loud of what everybody had been questioning again.

"Clever boy," she grinned at him, he glared at his siblings across him for hearing them laugh quietly.

It was no surprise that even a kid asked this, it was like an elephant in the room, so she expected that question was going to be asked, one way or another.

"I have never been to a funeral before, only now. Nor, ever experienced loss. But you're right, I suppose, it's usually unbearable and dreadul. Understandably so.'' She states, agreeing with him. Odd the situation was for the others, even at the back of her mind, she finds it too. But she was thankful that the reception was how it was.

She breathes deeply, "But my mother, she was kind. Happy, she radiated sunshine." She looks out the window, closing her eyes for a second. "Every Saturday, she and her friends would go out or just have tea together. On Sunday, with her friends too, we'd go to church and eat together after." Y/N smiled to herself, memories playing in.

"Her death was so sudden and tragic. I'm angry still, I think I'll always be." She pauses, trying to maintain her composure. Her fingers finding the picture of her mother in her book, tracing it gently.

Anger and grief, no one can understand it better than everyone who was with her right now. They felt for her.

"But I, all her people, know she was happy with her life, fulfilled. We know she wouldn't want us to be miserable. She left us beautiful memories, I suppose we didn't want to taint that, we wanted to hold on to it. All of her people are hurting, we'll always be, but back there, everything was genuine, hurting but happy still." Y/N declares, turning her gaze to Alfred, both of them reach for each other's hand.

"Because of her love and our love for her. Because she had a brother who always knew she was loved truly by him." She said firmly, tightly holding his hand, as if she knew he needed assurance, she did and he did.

And just like that, they understood it. Although, her and her perspective, not entirely. Had their parents been killed with being as they are at the present, if they had the same loving bond as the mother and daughter did, it would have been rampage, anger, blood spilled, blind red. Vengeance.

Her truth gave them a chance to think of it all.

A new light shown.

Damian stared at her, utterly baffled. She smiles at him, "We all grieve differently, love. Death hits us never the same." She speaks, hoping to make sense. He nodded, flustered again. He threw his siblings a threatening glance as he stood up and sat beside again his father.

"How you've grown, my dear." Alfred expressed, his other hand now cupping her face, she leans to his hand, now she can feel her tears threatening her.

"Do not make me cry," she hisses quietly, laughing at herself for doing so as tears fell on her cheeks. She catches herself a few seconds after. Though she was well aware it had not only Alfred and Damian whom she spoke to, but the entire family too, it hits her, and felt shy over again. Leaning back to her seat, with fingers fumbling.

And from her peripheral vision, she was aware too of the stare of the one with the white streak. Y/N finally looks at him, no change in his face as she did, but when she smiled, his expression softened and found himself smiling once again because of her.

Maybe it was because he heard how gentle her voice was when she first spoke to Damian, her sincere gaze when thanking them for being there. Maybe it was because he observed how she was at the cemetery, he knew of the state, numb, lifeless but then when he entered their home, he saw how she easy was with people, when he heard her giggle, or very much odd enough--how she made Damian little and adorable under her gaze. How at the front, she made it seem so easy.

He almost grinned to himself when he thought of how easily could she be mistaken as blood related to their beloved Alfred but except from his wrath that always threaten to show when they hit the remaining straws.

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The manor was as she expected to be, grand. It stood its glory. It looked like it had seen hundreds of storms but it mirrored novel. If she was already astonished by only the front of it, she knew to prepared herself by what lies inside.

"Do you want to have dinner with us or shall I just bring it to your room?" Alfred asks Y/N as he walks beside her in the manor, following Bruce. All except the three walked behind everyone who parted ways.

She didn't need to think about her choice. The family was back in their home, but she felt their was a missing piece to it. They were silent, evident that they were cautious. And she knew it was because of her. But who could blame them anyway.

Though the family was well familiar of the situation as they had been in it quite enough concerning times, this was different...

So she didn't want to be a burden more on, or at least that was what she felt. She shook her head but smiled, "I...I think I just want to rest now." She looks at Alfred with pleading eyes, hoping he could see her thoughts and he did.

"Very well, let's get you to your room." He nodded as he lead her on the long, wide hallway. At the end of it, was an elevator, Alfred walked to it with her things. Before she followed him, she turned to Bruce.

Trying not to be interested anywhere but his eyes, she spoke, "Thank you...I can't thank you enough for letting me stay here, I hope I don't become unbearable to you guys here, but thank you." She tightly grips the bag she was holding, feeling little.

It took him back to the times when his children walked in the manor for the first time, so different from each but still the very same they were; hesitant, doubtful, scared, shy--young.

He lays a hand on her shoulder, softly, meeting her gaze. The same way as he did then, gentle, wanting to emit safety, which always delivered. "You won't be. You are more than welcome here. Take your time, Alfred will always be here for you and us if you need anything." Bruce assures her, he had no doubt she and Alfred already had the conversation but he was glad he got to speak about to her of it.

Unable to held his gaze anymore, she stared down, and nodded, uttering a last and small thank you and head to the elevator. Bruce smiled to himself and head to his own place.

It had been a long day for all of them. As Y/N's night comes to an end, theirs was just the beginning.

In their element, Gotham in its own-dark, but bright with city lights, dangers that always spilled in nights. They had never forget why they do what they do, but today reminded them of it again, each of them with lingering thoughts of what happened today as they do their job. With minds sharper than it always is, some punches were pulled, some went to hell with it. They were not gonna go back home not unless they made sure tonight that no one was gonna end up like Alfred or Y/N.

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💌🖋️: bear with me