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squipa · 2 months ago

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baby, i want some of your love

aka how you healed him

———

jason todd wears glasses now.

jason never really took care of himself after dying. his body was so hopelessly out of rhythm, everything slightly wrong and out of place. his bones creak underneath his skin, his muscles, which had nearly rotted and decayed, could never quite figure out how to relax. sometimes he’d forget to breathe, or blink, the actions no longer involuntary, and before you? he didn’t have it in himself to care. his health had fallen to the least of his worries.

but you were always so worried about him. you noticed things about himself he hadn’t even realized, how he winced when he chewed with the left side of his mouth, how he squinted at street signs whenever you went on walks, how his muscles were always tense until you massaged them into relaxation. you pointed them out, pouting whenever he’d shrug it off. to him, it was nothing, he was used to the pain, the inconvenience; he didn’t consider his own wellbeing important enough to pay any mind to.

to you, it was torture. watching the man you loved so dearly treat himself with so little care had you ruined. all you wanted for him was happiness and safety, for him to have what he had given you so freely, what he guarded himself from so intensely. he didn’t realize how much you cared until he noticed how much you finally pushed him to treat himself better.

“i scheduled you a dentist appointment.” you said, matter-of-factly setting down a few documents in front of him begging his patient history. he looked up to you, eyebrow raised, entirely confused. you answered his question before he could even think to ask it. “you wince when you chew.”

he wouldn’t say no to you. despite his disdain regarding the idea of a check up, he went. you came with him, fiercly speaking a language of medicine he didn’t understand. when he left the dentist, you gave him a lollipop. “i’m not five.” he ate it anyways, savoring the taste between strawberry-stained lips as you drove him home.

he stopped noticing when you made him appointments to get shots, or when you subtly slipped the card of a dermatologist behind the picture of you he kept in his wallet. he started actually caring about what he did to his body— gut health and all that. yes, he was jacked, his body had been built like a machine ever since it had patched itself back together in the lazarus pit, but he couldn’t remember the last time he ate a piece of fruit.

he didn’t realize how much better he felt until dick pointed it out for him. “you got glasses?” he asked, pointing to the thick black frames that sat on the bridge of his nose.

he nodded. he does wear glasses. he has silver caps on two of his teeth. he has a nice layer of body fat covering his muscles because he eats three well-balanced meals a day. he has a standing appointment with a chiropractor every other wednesday at two, and another with a therapist on mondays at one. he gets a checkup every six months and goes to the dentist every four, he’s been to the dermatologist three times in two years, he has all of his shots up to date, he takes vitamins in the morning and he sleeps at least five hours every night.

he cares about himself. he puts effort into making sure he stays healthy— and at first it was for you. only for you, to ease your constant worry about him. but now it’s second nature, your guiding hand has healed him, made him want to stay alive and healthy and whole, not for just you, but for himself.

the moment the realization washes over him of just how much you’ve given him, he rushes home and tells you in no less than a thousand ways just how grateful he is to have your love.

———

#charli writes #jason todd #dc #dcu #batfam #batman #jason todd drabble #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd one shot #jason todd x reader #jason todd headcanon

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mixingandmelting · 5 months ago

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Inconspicuous Relationship

Summary: Everyone in the family thinks the two of you hadn’t tied the knot and keeps playing matchmaker. He, being the troll he is, decides to roll with it

He told you it was going to be fine. To leave it to him; his plan was going to be flawless. Flawless his ass. You’re dying from second-hand embarrassment and Jason’s not helping with that shit-eating grin on his face.

“You know, Gotham Park is apparently considered one of the prettiest in the city during all four seasons.” Steph starts, sending you a look across the dinner table. “Wouldn’t it be so romantic to go there, especially for a first date?”

You beg to the higher beings that your cringe isn’t visible in your smile as you hummed in agreement. You’ve been enduring this since the beginning of the family dinner where the siblings kept dropping obvious hints for the two of you to get the ship sailing. And Jason being Jason, went along with it all the while ignoring the secret glares you give him. For Pete’s sake, he was even playing footsies under the table!

“Didn’t you say you had a plan?” You hiss under your breath as Tim and Dick, surprisingly, voice out in agreement how Gotham Park was the last place to go on a date, their expressions speaking for the horrors they’ve seen there.

“Yeah? Why? You don’t like how my plan’s going so far?” You scowl, kicking his foot away when he prod your foot again with his. He gives you a cheeky smirk in response.

Checking and seeing Steph getting into a squabble with the other over the apparent controversial site, you lean closer towards him.

“You call this a plan?”

“If not, then what is it?” He chugs the water in his glass, waving a hand towards them. “Besides, over half of them are grown ups. They’ll get it one way or another.”

If you’re not dying from embarrassment, you’re dying from stress. It’s clear as day that he’s in it for the chaos while you’re simply wanting to rip the bandage and get this over. Just when you’re about to snap at him, you catch Damian staring at both of you across the table. Quickly, you compose yourself, the same smile you had on for Steph now directed at the fourteen year-old.

“What’s wrong Damian? Need something?”

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, his gaze blank and revealing nothing. You can feel sweat accumulate in your hands, the urge to swat at the man beside you getting stronger at the coughs he lets out that’s meant to cover his laughter.

“I simply don’t get it.” The teen then takes a bite of his dinner and thoughtfully chews on it. “Why can’t Jason simply ask you out for a date when he’s completely smothered for you?”

Cue the room going completely dead silent. Well, sans Duke pounding his chest from choking on his food. You would’ve, at least, chuckle at had it not been for you steaming up.

“D-Damian? Damian buddy?” Dick calls out from his seat, his voice slightly pitched. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t be the only one that’s getting tired of them beating around the bush, Richard. I’m simply spelling it out, that’s all.”

“Damian-“

“No, Damian’s right.” All eyes set on Jason, who puts the silverware down and leans back on his chair. “It’s not like I’ve been really meaning to hide it anyways so,” he turns toward you, “what do you think of Saturday, 1:00 PM at your favorite place you like going to?”

…You can’t do this. This man and his theatrics; you wanted to scream how he had already asked about it last week. Tell them they’re getting scammed, it’s not even the first date-!

But Damian’s words keep echoing in your mind and the fact Jason knows that you know that it’s true is messing with you so badly. It prevents you from trying to calm everyone down, the family up and arms at the “horrible” confession Jason gave as he merely shrugs and asks what else he was supposed to do. You further baffle them when you muster a nod, your hands still covering your very much burning face.

Later on, when Bruce comes back from the supposed emergency phone call, he pulls you and Jason to the side. It was one thing to hear Bruce Wayne giving his approval and blessing (for some reason) for you two’s relationship. It was another when finding out this whole thing was indeed staged by both Jason AND Bruce to get back at the rest of the family for a prank that occurred last week during a joint mission as the older man asked the younger if everything went accordingly.

You decide to give Jason a piece of your mind once the two of you got home which led to him to follow you around and ask you to reconsider calling him by his full name for the rest of the week.

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

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invincibledc · 2 months ago

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BATUNCLE!reader who just always gets called instead of his brother. It’s sickening how greedy his nephews and nieces are.

note: all batfam are kids in this expect for Bruce ofc lol!

“Uncle y/n!!!!!” Dick when he was just a Robin, screams as he rushes into the study room to see his uncle wearing his signature glasses. Y/n holds back a deep sigh, looking at the acrobat who just smiles at him.

“Yes, sweetheart?” “Watch, what I can do.” Dick says before doing a new trick he just learnt.

Y/n couldn’t help but chuckle, clapping to encourage the little bird. “Amazing! Show uncle what else you can do.” Dick’s eyes light up as he started to do some more tricks.

“UNC! UNC!!!!!!” Jason dragged as he was in the kitchen working on homework.

Y/n looked at his twin brother who looks back at him. “That’s your son.” Y/n says, getting ready to head out, but instead Bruce chuckles.

“But that’s your nephew, and he’s calling for you.”

Y/n was suddenly in the kitchen, seeing jason’s lit up face. “Yo, unc! Help me with this math question?” He asked, showing him the equation.

“What the..” y/n grabbed the paper and gave it back. “Uhm. How about we head out for ice cream?” Y/n says, clearly not understanding this generation’s math solving problems.

Jason hopped off the chair and rushed to hold his uncles’s hand.

“Ice cream. Ice cream! Ice cream!”

“Uncle?” Tim says softly, walking into his uncle’s room.

“Yes Timmy boy?”

“Is Santa real?” He asked towards his lovely uncle.

“Of course he’s real, you just gotta be asleep to earn any gifts.” Y/n says, taking his glasses off and lay down.

It’s quiet before Tim gets on the bed with his uncle. “Is that why you have a Santa costume in your closet?”

Y/n’s eyes flew right open as Tim just stare at him. “Okay bed time champ!”

“Ammu.” (uncle)Damian says, alerting of his presence. Y/n turned around, having to get ready to go get groceries. “Yes dames?” Y/n says, putting his jacket on as the small brown skinned boy walks towards him.

“I wanna come too.” He says, he already looked ready—maybe a little too ready as he had his Velcro shoes on and a jacket that seems a little too big.

Y/n chuckled, “you sure? It’s gonna be a long trip with me to the grocery store.”

“I’m sure!” He says a little too excitedly, he grabs onto his uncle’s hand. Y/n couldn’t help but chuckle before heading out with the small boy.

“Of course..”

“UNCLEEEE!!!!” Steph yells, running towards the man that ran away as the blonde girl tackled him.

“Where have you been dude?! I’ve been waiting for you to watch this movie I just saw!”

“Been busy with work, kiddo… get off me please..” Stephane gets off the poor man, chuckling before dragging him to the living room.

Cass stood beside her uncle, watching him do a puzzle by himself, “uncle.” She signs after tugging on the male’s sleeve. “Yes honey?” He replies, pausing himself from completing his puzzle.

“I wanna color with you. Please.” She tugs harder, getting him at least out his chair. Y/n sighs, but walks with her to her room. “Why not your father? I’m sure he can make time to—” he was interrupted with a pout from the girl.

“Okay never mind, drawing it is!”

BATUNCLE!reader who can’t deny his nephews and nieces at all…

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corameiwrites · 4 months ago

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𖦹 i want somebody to want 𖦹

pair: jason todd x gn!reader

plot: When you turn 21, the name of your soulmate appears on your forearm. Not everyone is born with a soulmate, and Jason Todd never thought he would have one.

wc: 2k

authors note: I remember reading in a fic somewhere about the Wayne Scholarship, and I forgot who/where I read it exactly, so credit to them whoever they are. Also, some characters may seem a little ooc and tbh I don't really care. I had fun writing this which is all that matters, and I hope you have fun reading it!

pt. 2

The place Dick had dragged Jason to wasn’t all that bad, considering it was located in Blüdhaven. Unless it was near the University area, there was always something sinister and more corrupt happening under the alcohol, vomit, and blood-stained floors of Gotham bars. Normally no amount of bribery or guilting could make him voluntarily dress up and go out drinking with his older brother, but today was not normal.

It was his twenty-first birthday.

Meaning that by 11:59 tonight, if a name didn’t appear somewhere on one of his arms, he was destined to be alone. Not everyone is born with a soulmate, and realistically, after all the shit he’s been through, Jason Todd never thought he would have one. Despite that, there was some sort of dread slowly filling his body the more he thought about it. Maybe it was that small flame of the little boy he used to be—before Robin and the Bat and the Joker—igniting at the chance of finally having one. It was the same boy who would trace his parents’ names on their wrist, asking them to tell him once more how they met, what they felt seeing the names appear on their skin. Unfortunately, that little boy would be let down yet again by the end of the night.

His plans had originally been to stay in his main apartment (the one where he stored all his books and indulged in a comfy couch), buy a 6-pack of the cheapest beer and get drunk alone. That was ruined, however, when he received multiple annoying texts from Dick, begging to go out for drinks tonight, specifying multiple times that it would be on him. Jason told himself the only reason he agreed was for the free drinks and to keep himself from checking his forearm every five goddamn seconds (a night out with Richard Grayson was known to be entertaining and unpredictable).

If it was Dicks plan to get Jason blackout drunk, he was doing a pretty good job of it. After agreeing he would be the designated driver, Dick had laid back on the drinks and only taken 3 of the five rounds of shots they had already ordered. Jason was opening up bit by bit, reminiscing on their childhood together. By his fifth shot, smiling seemed to come easier to Jason.

Currently, they were both watching the flatscreen hung behind the bar showing a news channel covering Batman and Robin putting an end to another bank robbery.

Dick pointed at the screen. “Damian learned that move from me.”

“No, I taught him that.”

“I’m the one who taught you that move when you were younger, big dummy,” Dick teased.

“Oh, I forgot.” Jason's tone lost its joking edge, and Dick looked over at him. “You know,” he continued almost somberly. “Ever since coming back, I seem to forget a lot of things.”

His eyes were glued to the screen, watching as Batman jumped out a window in pursuit of the bad guy. Robin shouted after him.

“You’ve been through hell and back, Todd. Normal people wouldn’t have been able to handle it the way you did.”

“No, you see, that's the thing.” Jason's voice was frustrated, his previous smiles gone. His brows furrowed the longer he ranted. “I’m not normal. I cycle through apartments and bunkers like crazy to help me lay low. I sleep in until 3 pm and I put a helmet on to chase down crazy guys with guns for hours at night. The public knows me as some traumatized kid who somehow survived a terrorist attack.” He pauses to take a gulp of beer, slamming the glass onto the bar, lifting his arm to wipe his mouth. Dick watched his jacket slip down his arm.

“Jason–”

“I don’t have a home, I don’t have a stable routine, I don’t even have life insurance!” Dick had somehow managed to get the former deceased and outlaw brother of his drunk and ranting about life. And the worst part? Nobody was ever going to believe him.

“Jason,” Dick puts a hand on his younger brother's shoulder, gripping him like a vice. His eyes never left his arm. “Your soulmate.”

Both of them are silent for a moment. Jason sighs, shaking his head.

“Damn, you're good at this.Yeah, it's about the soulmate thing.”

“You fucking idiot,” Dick slaps him on the back of his head. “Look at your arm!”

Dick watched as Jason stared him in the eyes, his brain clearly trying to catch up with what his brother was insinuating. When he finally looked down, it was comedic the way his eyes bulged at the fresh ink on his left arm. Dick tried his best to keep his excitement at bay, biting back his proud smile. His grumpy, tough, and borderline psychotic little brother had a soulmate. After a couple more seconds of silence, Jason cursed under his breath.

“I’m too sober for this,” Jason mumbled, chugging down the rest of his beer.

Dick laughs, waving the bartender over and handing him a card to close their tab. Jason slams the empty cup down, staring straight ahead at nothing in particular. “I have a soulmate.”

“Yeah man, congratulations!” Dick pats his brother on the back, but recoils at Jason turning abruptly and staring him dead in the eye.

“I have a soulmate.”

“I…yeah, you do bud.”

“...I have a soulmate.” He repeats, annunciating each word, as if he can’t believe it. “I need to find them,” Jason says, standing and walking towards the exit of the bar.

“Woah, Jason–” Dick hurriedly stands, apologetically yelling for the bartender and grabbing his card. Rushing outside, he sees Jason recklessly crossing the street to the parking lot. “Slow down!”

Jason stands awkwardly next to Richard Grayson's blue convertible, clambering over the door and into the passenger seat. Dick watches from across the street, shaking his head with a smile, making his way to the car. He couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed with Jasons drunken behavior.

Hopping in the driver's seat, Dick puts the keys into the ignition. “Alright loverboy, where are we going?”

“The mansion,” Jason struggles to get his seatbelt on (Dick intervenes). “The Batcave’s computer can find anyone.”

“Huh. That’s actually really smart considering you're drunk.”

“I’m not. Just shut up and drive.”

Dick laughs, hitting the gas pedal and doing as he was told.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ♡ ✩˚｡⋆𖦹｡°⋆✮

Bruce was home early, having quickly left the bank robbers tied up as Gordons responsibility. Currently, he was sitting in the library going over a case file. Damian had already gone to bed when he had gotten an alert of a vehicle coming up the manor's driveway. He checked the security cameras in the garage and was shocked to see his eldest rushing to the passenger side of the car to stop his sluggish brother from falling out. At first, Bruce had thought that he was poisoned or impaired in some way. He called for Alfred, asking him to prepare the medical rooms to tend to Jason. A few short minutes later, he heard faint voices approaching.

“I used to live here before I died, I know where I’m going.”

“Clearly not, we passed the entrance already.”

“The old man has a sensor on that door. We need to take the entrance in one of the bookshelves, they don’t notify him when someone enters.” No one but Alfred was supposed to know that.

“I doubt it’ll matter, he’s out fighting crime with—oh shit!” Bruce watched through his freakish peripheral vision as two figures hurriedly backed away from the doorway of the library. “Code Bat! Code Bat!” Dicks voice had dropped to a whisper, though not so quiet that Bruce couldn’t hear.

“B’s here?” A head with a white streak of hair popped through the doorway before quickly vanishing. “Oh no.”

“It’s only 11:45, what is he doing lounging around?”

Bruce chuckled quietly, now coming to the realization that they weren’t drugged or in danger; they were just drunk. Jason especially, which made sense. Quietly, he sent Alfred a message telling him to disregard the request. He feigned ignorance to their presence, going as far as flipping pages of the case file in his lap while they bickered, attempting to formulate a plan. Listening in to their not very secretive conversation, Bruce deduced that they had come to find Jason's soulmate on the Bat computer. It was his 21st afterall, and why else would he come drunkenly to the home he tried so hard to stay away from? Bruce found himself smiling for the boy. He had been through so much, and he deserved to have some good in his life. He only hoped that whoever they were, they took care of him in places where Bruce failed.

Sighing exaggeratedly, he stood, stretched and slowly made his way to the doorway, listening as the two brothers hushed. He allowed himself one last second of respite before wiping the smile off his face and walking out into the dark hallway. Dick stood alone, leaning against the wall and whistling. He turned his head, seeing Bruce standing, observing him.

“Oh, hey Bruce! I’ve been looking for you.” Dick pushed off the wall, going to stand next to his Father. “I thought I’d visit, wait for you to get home, but you’re here!”

“What do you need?”

“Oh nothing much,” taking Bruce's arm, he began to drag him in the opposite direction, past the library. “I just got nostalgic, and wanted to take a trip down memory lane with my Pops.”

“You smell like alcohol.”

“Like I said, I was feeling nostalgic!”

Dick rattled on, leading him down the dark halls, and Bruce noticed Jason slipping into the library. He smiled, turning his attention back to his eldest. He couldn’t find himself to be angry about his sons keeping secrets from him. If he felt anything about tonight's endeavor, it was disappointment. Bruce Wayne had taught his sons to be sneakier than they had been tonight.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ♡ ✩˚｡⋆𖦹｡°⋆✮

Jason, in his drunken haste, had almost tripped down the short flight of steps leading to the massive computer. He couldn't really blame the alcohol though—it was his fault for looking down at his arm every couple seconds, as though the black ink would fade away before he ever found out who you were. Even if it did, he had already committed the name to memory.

He knew how many letters were in your name, the number of syllables in the different parts of it. Despite this, he hadn’t yet spoken it out loud. For the last 30 minutes of his life, every breath he took held a certain weight to it, and the beating of his heart had persisted to be about 120 beats per minute.

He blamed it on the alcohol, but logically he knew the reason.

That little boy—the one he thought was dead and buried—was coming back to life, crawling his way out of the depths of Jason and settling into his gut.

His hand shook as he typed the name, every click of the keyboard ringing dully in his skull. Inhaling deeply, Jason hesitated for only a moment before clicking enter. Your name popped up surprisingly quickly, specifically registered under the “Wayne Scholarship” file.

His hand moved by its own volition and the link was clicked, a government ID popping up on the display.

Staring up at the photo of you in awe, his eyes flickered to the name and back to the photo, unbelieving that this was you. Your simple beauty was evident even through the low quality government ID.

He stared for a while, just taking in you. It was a little odd looking at the huge screen, knowing that you two were made for each other. The thought only made his heart speed up even more.

Digging into your file, he finds that you’re 20 and won’t be turning 21 for another seven months. The knowledge that he knows and you don’t makes him nauseous.

Clenching the edge of the table, he remembers that the reason he found you so quick was due to the Wayne Scholarship. You moved to Gotham for your third year of college to attend Gotham University, with most of the tuition paid for as long as you agree to stay away from any and all crime. Suddenly, he had found another reason to be thankful that Bruce was filthy rich. Your current residence was an old apartment complex in the University area, which was for the most part, free of crime. The more information he got from Bruce Wayne's files, the more his stomach fluttered.

That little boy was practically jumping up and down inside of him, chanting over and over again, “I knew it! I knew we would have a soulmate!”. As the information sunk in, he began to shake more violently, and he felt like his legs were barely holding his weight. In fear of throwing up or collapsing on the floor (or both), he fell backwards into Bruce's chair. A tear slid down Jason’s cheek, and then another, and another.

For the first time in a long time, Jason Todd sobbed.

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plethorawrites · 1 month ago

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Thinking about the difference in how Jason loves someone intimately....

He was probably shy at first, worried you'd push him away or he'd hurt you by mistake because he couldn't control how much he weighed or how hard he gripped your hip. And it took a while for him to realize that he wouldn't actually hurt you.

Even if he did leave a few little bruises on your side, you'd cherish them rather than get upset or afraid.

Then, once he really internalized you weren't scared of his strength or put off by his scars and the affection he had, he got more passionate. He'd be quick, sloppy, leaving kisses everywhere, moving from your neck to shoulder, collarbone and chest because he just couldn't decide where. He held on tight like you'd slip away, rushing to bring you pleasure since he wanted to hear the little squeaks, sighs, and moans you made.

He'd be intense and spontaneous. Quick, fueled by drive and lust.

But after long enough, he'd slow down. A lot.

Because as much as he used to rush from place to place, desperate for as much of you as possible, he begins to understand that he doesn't need to.

He can have all of you for far longer. He can place slow, deliberate kisses. He can flip you over and trace your back for a while until you start getting desperate. He can take breaks, grab you a glass of water and spend the entire night loving you until you physically can't stand without his assistance.

And instead of feeling worried or ashamed when he sees the subtle limp two days later, he gets a smile. Because he knows he loves properly and that's something he gets to be proud of, not afraid of.

#headcanon #x reader #plethorawrites #dc comics #batboys #jason todd x reader #jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #jason todd imagines #jason todd smut #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x male reader #jason todd x gn!reader

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tsunaso · 3 months ago

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hiii, I love ur writing, could u do a fic where Jason Todd is a mafia boss, and the male reader is his most loyal 'guard dog'? Jason literally treats him like one—giving him orders, rewarding him, keeping him close. Maybe there’s a moment where he calls male reader his 'dog,' and male reader just smirk and say, ‘Yeah? And who put the collar on me?’

thank u sm!

“BARK LIKE YOU WANT IT”

pairing. Sub!Mafia Boss!Jason Todd x Top!male reader

synopsis. In Gotham's underworld, Jason Todd holds the city by its throat. But every king has a dog at his heel—and M/n is loyal, brutal, and always watching. Jason calls him a mutt. But he forgets one thing—who put the collar on who? — 2.3k

warnings. Guard Dog AU, mdni, nsfw, amab reader, dubcon, possessive behavior, praise kink, degradation kink, minor physical restraint, mutual obsession, mafia politics, overstimulation, powerplay, collar kink, facefucking, blowjob, spitting, choking, humiliation, breeding kink, dirty talk, oral fixation, crying, subspace, manhandling, aftercare

Jason Todd ruled Gotham’s underground like it owed him blood. And in many ways—it did.

The Red Hood Syndicate didn’t move without his order. Rivals were ghosts before they made it to sunrise. Contracts vanished. Witnesses disappeared. And yet, for all the stories about Jason Todd’s brutality, his trigger temper, his high body count—

There was one man even the worst of the underworld feared more.

His shadow.

His guard dog.

You.

　　　　　　　　　　　　⋆ ✩₊˚ ʚ♡ɞ ˚₊✩⋆

"You’re late."

Jason’s voice was sharp, not raised, but biting all the same as you stepped into his office, the double doors clicking shut behind you. You didn’t answer him. You never did when he was in one of his moods—irritable, pacing, hands stuffed into his pockets, a fresh line of blood drying down the corner of his jaw like he forgot to clean it off.

Or didn’t care.

He looked you up and down once. His mouth twisted slightly.

"You smell like smoke."

You stared, unbothered. "I burned a man alive in his own Porsche tonight. You wanted it done quiet."

He laughed. Dry. A little sharp around the edges.

“Messy job for quiet work.”

“Your note said ‘make it hurt.’ So I did.”

Jason stopped pacing. The city light from the penthouse windows caught across his eyes—green-blue, sharp as broken glass. He licked his lips once, slow. Then, “Come here.”

You didn’t hesitate.

Your boots echoed on the polished floor, each step solid. Intentional. Controlled. You moved like a weapon kept in a velvet box—danger tucked into civility, teeth beneath tailored suits.

Jason sat on the edge of his desk as you approached. Still calm. Still composed.

But his fingers twitched once where they gripped the edge of the wood. You saw it. You always did.

“You want to be praised?” he asked, tilting his head, voice half-daring.

"No." Your tone was even, flat, as you stopped in front of him. “I want you to stop testing me.”

Jason’s smile twitched. “But you’re so good when I do.”

　　　　　　　　　　　　⋆ ✩₊˚ ʚ♡ɞ ˚₊✩⋆

It was like this. Always.

The tension. The push-pull.

He gave the orders. You obeyed. He treated you like property—his muscle, his executioner, his dog. And you let him.

But Jason, arrogant as he was, had always mistaken obedience for submission.

And that was going to cost him.

　　　　　　　　　　　　⋆ ✩₊˚ ʚ♡ɞ ˚₊✩⋆

His hand lifted to your collar, two fingers brushing the sharp seam of your dress shirt. His knuckles grazed your throat, casual. Thoughtless.

But that’s where his control ended.

Your hand closed around his wrist.

His eyes jumped to yours, sharp with surprise—but not fear. Never fear.

“You like to call me your dog,” you said, low and measured. Your grip tightened just slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to make him still. "Throw me scraps. Snap your fingers. Expect me to sit."

Jason’s breath hitched. Just a little.

Your voice dipped, threading a heat beneath the threat. "You like pretending I belong to you."

He didn’t speak. Didn’t need to. His mouth was parted, his pupils wide, and every inch of him was screaming yes.

"So let me ask you something, Todd." You leaned in, lips brushing the shell of his ear, voice dark with knowing.

"Who put the collar on me?"

　　　　　　　　　　　　⋆ ✩₊˚ ʚ♡ɞ ˚₊✩⋆

Jason shivered.

It was subtle—but it was there.

The slow exhale. The twitch of his thigh muscles. The flush creeping into his neck that had nothing to do with anger and everything to do with being caught.

Owned.

He swallowed thickly. His hands clenched into fists against the desk.

And you—still gripping his wrist—lowered your mouth to his throat and let your teeth drag just beneath his jaw. Not biting. Not yet.

Just reminding.

Of what?

Of everything.

　　　　　　　　　　　　⋆ ✩₊˚ ʚ♡ɞ ˚₊✩⋆

He jolted slightly under your touch. A sharp inhale. A curse under his breath. Then his voice—thin, almost petulant:

“You’re supposed to take orders.”

Your smirk was razor-edged.

“I do. Because I want to.”

Your grip dropped. But you didn’t move back.

Instead, you leaned in closer.

Jason didn’t flinch. He never did. But his breathing was heavier now, pulse hammering against his throat—visible. Vulnerable.

"You bark all day, but when I get too close," you whispered, dragging your hand down his thigh with deliberate slowness, "you start to sound like a mutt that wants to be bred, not obeyed."

Jason made a sound in his throat. Half-growl, half-gasp.

"Fuck you."

You grinned.

“You’d beg.”

　　　　　　　　　　　　⋆ ✩₊˚ ʚ♡ɞ ˚₊✩⋆

He hated how much it was true.

He could sit on his throne all day—snapping orders, collecting blood money, running the city from his penthouse and dark alleys—but when you stepped into the room?

He was something smaller. Simmering. Waiting.

He wanted you to tear it out of him. To push him back onto the desk, force his legs open, make him say please.

You didn’t even need to touch him to get him there. He was already half hard just from your voice in his ear.

And you knew it.

You always fucking knew it.

　　　　　　　　　　　　⋆ ✩₊˚ ʚ♡ɞ ˚₊✩⋆

“You don’t really want a guard dog,” you said, low against his throat. “You want a muzzle. You want a leash you can wrap around your own throat when no one’s looking.”

Jason’s fingers twitched again—this time reaching.

But not for a weapon.

For you.

And you let him. Just this once.

You let him grab your shirt, let him yank you in like he was desperate for something he couldn’t name. Your hand slid up the back of his neck, tangled in his hair, pulled his head back until he was looking up at you—eyes hooded, breathing uneven.

You watched his mouth part.

You watched the fight bleed out of his body.

And then, just loud enough to ruin him—

"Good boy."

　　　　　　　　　　　　⋆ ✩₊˚ ʚ♡ɞ ˚₊✩⋆

The leash comes first.

Black leather, clean and heavy, pulled from your coat pocket like you were always planning to use it.

Because you were.

You knew Jason would mouth off. You knew he’d call you his dog again.

So now you’re going to make sure he was your bitch instead.

You’re sitting on his desk, legs spread, Jason on his knees between them—cheeks flushed, eyes glassy. Still pretending to be angry. Still acting like he’s got pride left.

"Take your shirt off."

He hesitates. Barely. Then obeys. Peels it off like it’s armor, like maybe the fabric will hold him together.

It won’t.

You pull the collar tight around his throat and let the buckle snap into place. His breath catches.

"Doesn’t it suit you?" you murmur, thumb brushing the pulse at his neck. "No tie. No suit. Just a collar. That’s how I like you."

Jason mutters something low under his breath.

You grab his jaw. “What was that?”

His mouth twists, defiant. So pretty like this. “Fuck you.”

You smirk. “You’ll get there.”

You shove two fingers into his mouth before he can talk back. He chokes slightly, but glares up at you through his lashes. You drag them deeper, until his throat works around the intrusion and his spit starts to run down his chin.

"You wanted to talk back?" you murmur. "Then earn the right to use your mouth."

Jason moans around your fingers, eyes fluttering.

His knees shift. He’s already grinding down against the floor, trying to rub the ache building in his pants. You grab a fistful of his hair and yank—his eyes fly open.

"Are you hard just from choking on my fingers?" you whisper. "Are you going to cum from being used like a toy, Jay?"

He shakes his head. He wants to say no. But you curl your fingers around the collar, tug—not hard. Just enough.

He whimpers.

"That’s what I thought."

You unzip. Jason’s eyes drop, hungry. You slap your cock against his cheek, watching the weight of it sink in before gripping his hair again.

"Open."

He does. Mouth wide, eager.

You sink in slow—and he moans. Not a groan. Not a grunt. A real, ruined moan, like he’s been waiting for this all week.

"You love this, don’t you?" you growl, hips pushing forward until he gags. "Love being on your knees like some two dollar whore. Mouth wide open. Ready to be used."

Jason’s face is dripping. Spit down his chin, lips stretched wide, pupils blown. He nods. He nods.

You grab the leash.

Just the feel of it in your hand makes him shudder.

You wrap it around your fist and pull. Not hard. Just enough.

"Good boy," you murmur.

Then you start fucking his throat.

He chokes.

Of course he does.

You don’t stop.

You let him gag, let his shoulders shake, let his tears spill over—he loves it. He’s rutting against the floor now, desperate, whining around your dick like you’re the only thing he needs to breathe.

"You gonna cum just from getting facefcked like a bitch?" you hiss.

Jason nods—fast, frantic.

You laugh. Spit in his mouth. Slap his cheek. Pull the leash again and hold him there while your hips snap forward with brutal rhythm.

When you pull out, he’s wrecked. His jaw is hanging open, tongue out, spit dripping down his neck. And he looks gorgeous like this.

You grab his face. Make him look at you.

“Say it.”

He pants. "Wh-what?"

"Say who owns you."

Jason hesitates—just a second.

Then: "You."

"Say it louder."

"You fucking own me," he moans. "I’m yours. I’m your fucking dog."

You grin.

"Now beg to get fucked."

He doesn't even pause.

“Please,” he gasps. “Please use me. Please, I—I need it—I’ll be good, I swear, just—please.”

And just like that, Jason Todd—the Red Hood, the most feared boss in Gotham—is on all fours, begging for the dick you’re about to be giving him.

Face red. Lips swollen. Hair stuck to his forehead. He’s panting now, thighs trembling as he tries to hold himself together, cock hard and leaking with no relief. The collar glints under the light, tight around his throat, leash trailing from your fist like a reminder.

Jason Todd doesn’t look like a mafia boss anymore.

He looks like a dog.

And he’s about to get treated like one.

“Get up,” you say.

He moves. Clumsy. Obedient. You shove him over the desk, chest flat, ass up, back arching perfect for you. The position makes him groan.

His pants are already gone. You never gave them back.

His thighs part without being told.

Ready.

“You were begging so sweet a second ago,” you murmur, palming his ass. “What happened to all that pride, Boss?”

Jason bites his lip. Doesn’t answer.

So you slap his ass. Loud. Sharp.

He jolts. “F-fuck—!”

“You forget how to talk?” you growl, leaning in close, letting your weight press into him from behind. “You forget who owns this?”

Your fingers drag down to his entrance. Wet. Twitching.

Jason gasps. “N-No—no, I know—I know—”

“Then say it.”

You shove two fingers inside him without warning. He screams. His back arches off the desk, legs shaking instantly.

“Fucking say it.”

“You—y-you own me,” he moans. “Please, please—I'm your fucking toy—”

You laugh against his ear.

“Yeah, you are.”

You press your cock to his slicked-up hole, teasing, dragging the head against him until he’s shivering and whining, back arched beautifully. The moment you press in—

He sobs.

"F-fuck—you're big—slow, slow—"

You don't go slow.

You grip the leash and pull as you sink in, one sharp thrust that fills him to the hilt. Jason’s scream gets buried in the desk wood, his fists clutching the edges like he’s trying to ground himself.

"You’re taking it," you growl. "Every inch. Just like you begged for."

Jason moans—high, desperate.

You start fucking into him, pace unrelenting, cock pistoning in and out as his hole squeezes around you so tight it hurts. He’s already leaking onto the desk, leaving a wet spot beneath him.

“Gonna cum like this?” you hiss. “No hands, no touch—just getting bred like the good bitch you are?”

He nods frantically, words lost in sobs and moans.

You feel the tremble before you hear the whimper.

Jason’s voice cracks. His whole body shudders. And then—his cock twitches untouched, shooting over the desk as his body clamps down around you.

He’s crying now. Quiet, desperate.

“C-Came—fuck, I came—”

You don’t stop.

“You think we’re done?” you growl, voice filthy. “You begged for it. Now fucking take it.”

You grab the leash, twist it around your fist, and pull his head back as you thrust harder, pounding into his overstimulated, raw hole until he’s a sobbing wreck on the wood, dripping and broken. You feel it building. Heat low in your spine. Jason’s still twitching, every thrust making his legs shake, tongue hanging out as he begs for more, whimpers turning breathless.

“You want it?” you growl. “Want me to fill you up?”

Jason nods frantically, barely coherent.

“Fucking say it.”

“Please—please cum in me—want it—need your cum—breed me—!”

You snarl, bury yourself to the hilt, and let go.

Hot, thick, endless—you spill into him like you’re trying to mark him from the inside out. Jason gasps, back arching beautifully as he milks you, his hole clenching greedily with every spurt of release.

The air reeks of sweat, sex, and ownership.

And he loves it. 　　　　　　　　　　　　⋆ ✩₊˚ ʚ♡ɞ ˚₊✩⋆

He collapses the second you pull out, limp and twitching, cum leaking down his thighs in thick streaks. His face is flushed. His eyes are barely open.

You wipe him clean with your handkerchief. Gently.

You kiss his shoulder once. Then his temple.

He breathes slow. Even. Peaceful.

And the collar? You don’t take it off.

You brush your fingers over it softly, smirking.

“You looked better on your knees than you ever did behind a desk.”

Jason—wrecked, dazed, marked from the inside out—manages a breathy laugh.

“Then put my name on the fucking tag next time.”

2K notes · View notes

rjunhuang · 14 days ago

Text

juliet, o juliet ✰ tim drake

pairing: tim drake x reader

summary: tim gets grounded so you take it upon yourself to get him out. the problem? he doesn't want to leave — he just wants you.

warnings: lowercase intended. fem reader. established relationship. reader is also a vigilante. making out. suggestive. tim is red robin. mention of jason's death. clingy tim.

note: i am his biggest fan. i felt so sinful writing them just MAKING OUT — must be the ace in me. fuck knows how old tim is in current canon but i imagine they're like nineteen in this. also, viet/wasian tim is so real to me — whenever people mention his blue eyes i get jumpscared.

divider by omi-resources | comments & reblogs are appreciated! <3

tim drake had always been the voice of reason.

being reckless was not in his nature. he was wired for precision and hypothesis. out of all his teammates, young justice or anywhere else, he was least likely to mess things up due to carelessness. in fact, tim drake cared too much.

it was exactly why he put himself on the frontlines this time — for the sake of the mission. for the safety of his team. if anyone needed to harmed, let it be him.

and while the mission ended in a success with red robin unscathed, bruce did not like what he came to hear. maybe it was the jason trauma kicking in, but bruce didn’t need his children playing the role of martyr.

so, for the first time in long while, tim was grounded.

no outings. no patrolling. no you.

his brothers took great pleasure in seeing the wayne child, whose image was all about being ‘orderly’, sulk in the confines of his bedroom. tim attempted to slip away many times, but living under a roof filled with security systems and other super-spies, it was harder to escape than arkham asylum in comparison. little damian had no problem reporting to their father if tim’s foot made it even a centimeter past the front door.

lucky for tim, he had a girlfriend who shared a mind of his own. breaking into the wayne manor was difficult — this was batman’s sanctuary, after all. you’d almost gotten your butt fried when hopping past a high voltage trip wire.

truthfully, you didn’t need to be doing all of this. you had access to most, if not every, part of the estate. you even had your assigned room there, whenever you decided to stay over. you were associated to the bats as closely as stephanie brown or barbara gordon. nevertheless, the idea of forcing your way into a place you could practically call your home sounded incredibly appealing for what was a dull wednesday night.

tim only noticed you perched out his windowsill when he heard a small tap on the glass, forcing him to peel his eyes away from his laptop. his personal laptop, of course — bruce knew tim’s biggest hobby was scrolling through the system files to crack any cases.

“nuh-uh.” tim begun to vigorously shake his head. “no. nope.” he pushed himself out of his chair, walking over to the window. “get out.” he hissed lowly, like he was shooing away a stray cat, fanning his hands. to be fair, you did look like one with the cheshire’s grin you held. when he realised you couldn't hear him through the glass, he unlatched it, leaving a crack wide.

tim’s reaction hadn’t faltered you in the slightest. you saw it coming, in fact. if bruce happened to catch you in his room — which was very possible — tim would be blessed to be un-grounded before thirty.

you took the open window as a chance to push your way into his room. your hop was light, feet soundless on the rich wooden floors. it’s been near a week since you’ve last seen your boyfriend. the longest separation since the time you met at the ripe age of fourteen. tim, who had all the strength to do so, doesn’t make an attempt to keep you out. despite all his protests, he was missing you a lot more than he currently let on.

you don’t pay mind to a single word he’s whisper-yelled. instead, planting your hands on his face, diving in to give him a gentle greet on the lips. he couldn’t say a damn thing once your lips landed on his.

his hands automatically found their usual position on your hips, instinctively pulling you closer as he kissed back. he was dying of withdrawal, his body reacted to you like he needed air. the kiss left you giddy, but you managed to pull yourself back before any one of you could lose the plot. staying put in tim’s hold, you asked, “sneak out with me?”

“this is a horrible idea—“ he muttered in a hushed tone. it was evident how badly he wanted to run away with you.

“oh, come on,” you begun, “he’s your dad. he’ll come around to forgive you a lot more easily than you think.” the tips of your fingers brush against tim’s pale face, pining the mere touch of him. it was a deal with the devil — for you were letting your heart get to you and not your head.

but, dammit. how did you making everything so enticing? you were a temptation that he absolutely could not resist.

with a groan, he leaned into your touch. he didn’t want to admit it out loud but he was caving. “he’s already pissed that i went against orders. this’ll just piss him off more,” he protested weakly, despite knowing that he was about to give into you anyway.

“please?” you pleaded, with a weak attempt of what people called ‘puppy eyes’. you leaned in closer to brush your lips against his. “i miss you.”

you had him wrapped around your damn finger — the second those three words left your lips, it was over. his will to resist was crumbling by the second. tim sighed, giving your lower lip a small and playful bite. “you’re the bane of my existence.”

you raised your eyebrows. “isn’t that a bridgerton quo—“ your comment is smothered by another kiss.

tim’s hands shifted to your thighs to lift you up, guiding you to wrap your legs around his waist. he pressed you against the wall of his room, returning the kiss with fervor. his fingers curled into the fabric of your clothes, clinging to you tightly. “shut up and kiss me.” he breathed against your lips.

your bodies are reacting before your brains do. clearly, the days spent apart had been driving tim up a wall as well. “wait, wait, wait.” you giggled against his lips, “we’re supposed to be sneaking out, not making out.”

tim only groaned when you interrupted the kiss, burying his face into your shoulder. he was so close to completely abandoning the idea of sneaking off to just kiss you until the sun came up. “c’mon,” he whined, “sneaking out is overrated, let’s just stay here and make out instead.”

“gods— you are such an introvert.” said the other introvert — yourself. you rested your head against the wall, absentmindedly playing with the black tufts of hair on tim’s nape. his eyes fluttered momentarily at the feeling of you playing with hair, a small, content hum rumbling in the back of his throat. “i really wanted to go for the whole romeo and juliet aesthetic. except, i’m romeo and i’m trying to get you out and have your father’s approval.”

he raised his head to roll his eyes in an overdramatic effect, though a smile pulled at the corner of his lips while listening to your rambling. “you do know they both die at the end, right?” he teased before pressing another kiss against your collarbone, trailing his lips up towards your jaw. “besides, you’d be the worst romeo,” he said with a gentle nip.

“what?” you dramatically yelped, offended. “would not. i’d totally drink poison for you, or however the play goes. juliet, oh, juliet — let down your hair.”

the sudden and rather loud outburst had tim immediately cupping a hand over your mouth, muffling your next sing-song remarks. “be. quiet,” he said with a small laugh. “you’ll get us caught, dumbass.” he couldn’t help but shake his head slightly. “see? terrible romeo, i’m doing all the work.”

but you weren’t really listening anymore, your eyes narrowing into a knowing, dirty-minded look. the smirk you were currently sporting was enough for tim to get the message. the small smile on his face betrayed the false annoyance, “pervert.” he mumbled, lowering his hand from your mouth to rest it on your hip instead.

“you like this pervert.”

“not the words that come out of that mouth.”

“i can think of other ways to use this mouth.”

“oh, yeah?”

“i can use it,” you paused for dramatic effect, and in a blink, you’re swinging off of tim’s grip, “to eat a good ol’ hotdog at our nearest bodega.” you said the line like a narrator straight out a 60’s commercial.

“you little—“ he started, his hand flailing outwards in a pathetic attempt to grab you again. you snickered at his reaction, too busy collecting your backpack that you slipped off in passing earlier. tim was still pouting like a child as he slumped back against the wall. you took a step closer and swung an arm across his shoulder, dragging him with you to his window.

“a shitty pizza slice sounds so good right now.” he couldn’t help but let out a soft snort of laughter at your excitement for shitty bodega pizza.

tim’s only response was to let out a small smile, muttering, “alright, let’s go get our shitty pizza, then—”

#— rika's works.#tim drake x reader #tim drake x you #tim drake x y/n #tim drake #imagine #x reader #reader insert #fanfic #dc comics #dc

1K notes · View notes

cosmosluckycharms · 4 months ago

Text

Bug Like Angel

Till you tell me to leave

As you made your way to the living room, you looked at the long, gothic walls.

You saw all the family portraits.

The same ones you'd been forced to take.

In all the pictures you were in, you had a completely different style than the others

Damian was always telling you to dress a sort of way, just so you could be left out.

Ouch.

It got to a point that Bruce had assumed you were doing this on purpose, just to get attention.

So, he stopped bringing you to get the portraits done.

Thinking about that made you pissed, so you decided to put your mind to something else.

You couldn't wait to get the movie night over with, you could probably sneak away near the end and go a someone else's universe.

You calmed yourself down so the others didn't get suspicious and made your way to the living room.

You saw everyone sitting down, except for Dick, who was probably in the kitchen, getting snacks.

Everyone was talking and not noticing you, you were glad.

As soon as you turned around and were about to make your way back to your room, you heard it.

"Birdie!"

Dick.

You turned around on your heel, your spidey senses helping you dodge Dicks bear hug.

You saw how for a split second he had a slight face of shock, his blue eyes widening.

He put his hands on his hips. "And where do you think you're going?"

You tried your hardest to put on a poker face. You didn't want him to know you were slightly intimidated by him.

Sure, you weren't scared, or terrified, as you once were.

You were stronger now, everyone knew that, but now you didn't have the comfort of your friends to keep you grounded and safe.

"I, uhm, went to get a bottle of water. I'm thirsty." you lied through your teeth, you just wanted to get away from them.

Dick raised an eyebrow "From where? I just got back from the kitchen."

"From my mini fridge." you weren't exactly lying, you did have a mini fridge from years ago when you decided you didn't want to burden everyone by getting necessities like food and water.

His eyes lit up as if he just had a lightbulb moment. "Don't you think all those snacks and drinks are expired by now? We could go to get some more together!"

"No thanks." you shut it down before he got any ideas "I like going shopping by myself."

Before Dick could protest, you heard Tim's voice.

"Can you guys shut up and sit down?" he was clearly annoyed.

Before you knew it, Dick dragged towards the couch, patting the seat next to him.

You pretended to not notice him patting the seat and made your way towards the seat at the end of the couch.

You hesitated to sit down there, you weren't used to being invited to family hangouts.

You could feel everyone's judgemental stares towards you, you knew basically everyone but Dick and Bruce still didn't want you around.

You sat down by yourself while everyone was huddled up together.

You glanced at Dick and saw how saddened he looked that you didn't sit with him.

You could almost feel bad for him.

"Time to choose the movie." Alfred placed the remote on the glass table, and before you knew it everyone but Bruce, Alfred, and you were fighting with the controller, pushing, pulling, and punching.

You could almost laugh at how silly this was.

You almost felt like part of the family

Bruce watched as you had a sad smile on your face, and got an idea.

"Let Y/N get a chance to choose this time."

Suddenly everyone that was fighting froze in place. You suppressed a chuckle at how stupid it was.

Jason begrudgingly passed you the controller, somewhat aggressively.

You started scrolling through the movies trying to find one to watch.

You could hear the others whispering to each other, obviously a little mad they didn't get to choose.

You got nervous and took a minute or two picking one.

Everyone was getting impatient.

You finally found the movie you had been wanting to watch for a while.

One that you never got to finish.

Scary movie.

Literally, that's the name.

You clicked on it, and all the memories flooded back.

You and the other spider kids decided to sneak out to the movies.

You were walking towards the entrance of the theater, holding Peni's hand.

Gwen was holding hands with an obviously smitten Miles.

Pav was secretly taking a picture of them.

It was so cute how he had a crush on his own girlfriend!

Peni was holding your hand, and holding Margos in her other hand.

You had Bruce's credit card in your purse, which also had a bunch of snacks you were gonna sneak in.

Hobie was standing next to you.

You and he had yet again raided a 7/11, this time you hid the snacks in his hair.

Every time he took a step or slightly moved, you could hear the crinkles and crackles of the snack bags in his hair.

You tried not to laugh when you both made your way past the ticket booth and security.

While the others were discussing what they thought the movie was gonna be about, they felt a strange silence.

One that was only there for around 15 seconds.

One that was usually filled with laughter and joy.

Peni looked confused for a moment before asking, "Where did Y/N go?"

Before you knew it, everyone started scattering around looking for you.

Hobie and Pavitr both looked inside some of the theaters, maybe you snuck into a theater?

You weren't there, so they kept looking.

Margo and Peni were looking in the security cams, only for them to be broken because a certain someone (Hobie) 'accidentally' webbed them in a penis shape.

Gwen and Miles looked in the parking lot, maybe you went to get something from the car?

They all decided to meet up together to find you.

As soon as they got to the lobby, they found you buying all the overly expensive snacks and giving them away to other families.

Peni ran to you and tackled you in a hug "Y/N!" her tackle somehow managed to throw you onto the ground

You hugged her back, slightly confused "Hey guys!"

Margo offered you your hand "We were so worried about you!"

"Why? I was gone for like, two minutes!" you chuckled, taking her hand

Gwen dusted off a piece of chocolate from your cheek, presumably from a chocolate bar you had around half an hour ago "I swear, we need to put a harness on you!"

"Oh c'mon, don't you guys think it was a little overkill to go around panicking looking for me?" you playfully punched the side of gwens shoulder, smirking

"One time we thought you went missing for a week only for you to be on an earth no one is allowed in and somehow made a horse army?" Miles crossed his arms in a way that sort of reminded you of his mom.

Pavitr nodded "One time you didn't reply to any of us for a month because your phone was dead and you lost the charger, and you also lost your watch somehow, so you were literally off the grid"

"One time we were at the mall and I turned around for a minute and somehow we found you across the mall at a petstore." Gwen added

"This is my life and y'all are just living in it." you dramatically put your hands on your hips, which made Peni giggle.

"Just to let you guys know, the movie starts in like, 3 minutes and we haven't made it to our seats." Margo pulled up the tickets from her pocket

You all looked at each other and booked it to your seats.

You all made it just in time, the trailers had just ended.

The movie was good, but what made it great was all your friends around you.

Hobie was asleep, his legs leaning on the chair in front of him.

Peni had her head on your shoulder, watching the movie.

Miles and Gwen were playfully throwing popcorn at each other and Margo was the only one 100% focused on the movie.

After that, it was all a blur.

All you can remember is an anomaly coming in and wrecking everything.

You and the others had to fight off the anomaly together, and secretly bring it to the society without the spider parents knowing.

Unfortunately, that meant you never got to finish the movie.

You smiled at the memory, which surprised the others because a jumpscare had just happened.

"L/N, why are you smiling?" Damian asked, his green eyes squinting at you.

"Nothing, I just remembered something funny. Also, I don't use L/N anymore, I go by O'hara now."

Bruce grabbed the controller from your hands and paused the movie.

"What?" you saw his eye slightly twitch

"Yeah, don't worry about it." you tried to unpause the movie, only for the controller to be barely out of reach

"Did he make you change your name?" Dick got up and questioned, standing next to Bruce

"no, he didn't force me, I'm attached to him like a parasite. He's never getting rid of me." you joked, nervously. You just wanted to go back to your room.

"How exactly did you change your name?" Bruce put his hands on his hips

"surprise adoption." you fidgeted with your bracelet out of nervousness,

"what does that even mean?" Jason spoke up, turning his head to look away from his phone and instead at you.

"I got hurt one too many times, and while I was delirious I asked him for probably the millionth time if he could adopt me. he obviously couldn't, so we met halfway and he let me have his last name." you said casually.

Suddenly dick and Bruce were scolding you.

You pretended not to be affected, and just got up and stomped back to your room.

You locked the door and started crying.

You could lie and say that you didn't care about them, but the truth is that their yelling at you made you feel 10 years old again.

You felt like the same kid that was ignored and pushed around by them.

You just wanted to go home.

Suddenly, you heard a slight buzzing.

You looked for where it was coming from and saw it was coming from under your bed.

You looked under your bed and saw it was your watch.

You quickly typed Hobies universe number and left.

As soon as you got there, you made your way to his trailer.

You knocked on the door and made your way inside through the window.

As soon as you got in, you sat down on his chair that could spin.

You tried to go on your phone to check the time, only to remember you left it on your bed earlier.

Hobie walked in, holding a cup of water "Coulda’ just used the damn door, you know."

You spun around in the chair playfully "I don't believe in using doors!"

"Good. Neither do I. Doors are overrated." He leaned on the wall next to him.

You guys fell into silence. Not an awkward one, but a comfortable one.

You stood up, stretching "Wanna get outta here?"

"thought you'd never ask." Hobie grabbed his guitar, and you both walked out

Your family was at the dinner table.

Dicks leg was shaking, and Bruce was staring at the spot you were supposed to be seated at.

Everyone else's conversations were still going on, but there was a slight linger of your perfume there.

It was ironic that even after years most of your family didn't notice you were gone.

They were halfway through their meal when a portal popped up close to them.

Their eyes all widened as you fell in your suit, crashing into the fancy glass table, fighting a green goblin, Hobie not far behind.

While you were trying to push Green goblin back into the portal, you looked around to see your whole family looking at you, concerned.

"For fucks sake!" you punched Green goblin and you both fell into the portal again.

This just left your family with more questions than answers.

As they studied the now broken glass table, they also thought about the portal you fell through.

How many times has this happened?

How many times have you gotten hurt and they hadn't noticed?

A couple of minutes later, they watched as you and Hobie both fell through another portal, this time without the green goblin.

You flopped onto the floor and Hobie flopped onto the couch.

Dick started running to you about to ask if you were alright, only to hear you start laughing out of exhaustion.

Hobie got up from the couch and helped you get up.

You realized your family was in the room, and decided to introduce Hobie to them.

You grabbed his wrist "Uhm- this is Hobie, uh, is my friend.

"Your family watched as you nervously fidgeted with hobbies studded bracelet.

Everyone stared at you awkwardly, and you just started walking to your room.

"Y/N-" Bruce started

You ignored him and started walking faster.

After an hour or two, there was music blaring throughout the manor that vibrated through the floor.

Everyone could hear it despite having earplugs in.

It was time to put an end to this.

Jason started making his way up to your room, preparing himself for the worst.

He didn't even bother knocking, he just made his way in.

He expected to see you both sneaking out, smoking, or just anything bad as an excuse to kick Hobie out.

Only to see you and him gossiping and giggling while you were putting makeup on him.

Jason tried to make out what you guys were saying, but it was impossible due to the loud music.

Your spidey senses went off and you both looked at Jason.

Dick slightly flinched at you both looking at him in sync.

"Can you guys put down the volume? No one can sleep and it is 1 am." Jason put his hand on his neck

"Yeah, my bad." you put down the volume and continued gossiping with Hobie.

You felt his stare on you as he stood next to where you were sitting on the bed with Hobie.

You raised an eyebrow at him "Can we help you?"

He sat down next to you, only for you to scoot away from Jason and move closer to Hobie.

The room fell into an awkward silence until he finally left.

As soon as the door closed, you let out a sigh of relief.

"Jeez, can they hop off my dick for once?" you rolled your eyes in annoyance.

"tell me about it."

You started falling asleep towards 3 am.

You were trying to stay awake despite it being late at night (or early in the morning?)

Either way, you ended up falling asleep while leaning on Hobies lap.

Hobie smiled as he picked you up bridal style and tucked you into bed.

It wasn't the first and he hoped it wouldn't be the last.

He kissed your forehead and left through the window.

An hour or two later, Dick went to check up on you, only to see you peacefully sleeping in bed.

You had a black lipstick stain from Hobie on your forehead.

Dick frowned from that but started making his way out of the room.

That was until something caught his eye.

A guitar.

Not like the one you had, this one was red and had..unique stickers...

He grabbed it and made his way out of your room.

He could ask you about it the next morning.

i have a headache help

this took SO LONG im so tired help

this is ass lmfao sorry its so rushed it felt not rushed while writing it help

taglist(please lmk if i forgot you!): @bath1lda @mariadvorak @coralaura @tsxukikami @hjgdhghoe @coffeeaddictxd @cxcilla @kaitense1 @star-girl-interlud3 @sukaretto-n @welpthisisboring @itsberrydreemurstuff @lovebug-apple @crazycaoticsimp @bellethesleepypotato @blackhood1229 @jsprien213 @sirenetheblogger @awawage @holybatflapexpert @vanessa-boo @ryuushou @whiskeygirl7 @seemeee3 @inojinieeee @oliviaewl @djpuppy-kittens @w31rd3rg1rl @br33zy-blizzardz @eyeless-kun @strangelymid @twismare @cat-lover-over-9000 @jaemindontberude @galaxypurplerose @paastaboi @senhoritaapple @whiskeygirl7 @chezze-its @toastloverr @antov828 @mirai-in-the-headspace @vanilliona @anuttellaa @the-dumber-scaramouche @writing-flower @otterluver05 @wizzerreblogs @mycatateit @icryat2 @lunamonkeypower @1abi @ghost-Orch1d

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stargrltara · 5 months ago

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𝘺𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘺

·.✧ ✦ ✧.·

Your boyfriend was sitting on the couch, the lighting was dimmed as you had just finished putting away the dishes. The words which splayed in the book he was reading painted his mind as the rain painted the glass windows outside.

He looked so gorgeous, edible even. The way his eyes were frowned as he was focused on his book; biceps tensed with each shift on the couch, the way his head slightly moved to follow the words and his thick digits turned each paper with a short flick.

Your eyes diverted to his position, his legs spread and his back quite slouched on the leather couch. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, growing desire pooling in your stomach.

“Jay..” you whined lowly, slowly inching towards the couch as he just hummed, but didn’t acknowledge you further. “—Jason.” your tone was more firm now, almost raising authority as his head turned, now glaring at you plopping down next to him.

“What?” he looked almost perplexed, his brows furrowed but his gaze flickered between your sharp features. “Don’t give me that face.” you faux pouted, and it only earned an eye roll from him though there was a hint of a smirk forming in the corner of his lips.

“‘s just my face, babe.” he sighed at the abrupt interruption of his reading, and went back to glare at the book. You narrowed your eyes at him, though they quickly fell to his arms, his toned biceps which flexed under this small shirt, almost bulging out of the sleeves.

Something turned inside of you, like burning desire just took over you and forced you to lean into his arm, grasping onto the tough skin and sinking your teeth into his flesh.

He didn’t flinch, in fact, he didn’t even say anything until you bit down particularly hard, maroon marks forming at your wake. “Fuck—“ he winced, glaring down at your glued shut eyes, fingers digging into his skin and biting his arm like your dessert.

His palm abandoned his book, now moved up to grab your chin and lift you away from his bicep. Your mouth left his skin and a light groan erupted from your throat in hunger.

“You a cannibal now, or somethin’?” he raised a brow, a small smirk on his pink lips and you chuckled, leaning into the warmth of his chest. His book was now on the floor as he stroked your hair; fingers intertwined in the soft locks as you hummed.

“So I can’t show my love for my beautiful.. strong, yummy boyfriend?” you ended your sentence with another giggle, your hand coming up to cup the side of his face and he was biting back a smile, cheeks now reddening and flustering.

“Yummy?” he scoffed, looking away for a second to contain his composure. “Jesus, you are a cannibal..” his fingers came up to squeeze the side of your hip, earning an enduring giggle from your lips. “—gotta add that one to your list of crazy, hm?” he let out a dry chuckle after you . “You’ve got a list?” you gasped exaggeratively.

“Yikes.. you are obsessed with me.” you scoffed mockingly, but humorously and he shrugged you off of him playfully, “Careful,” he snickered as you forced yourself back down into his chest, not allowing yourself to escape his domestic affection.

“If i’m crazy, what are you?” you challenged, head tilting against his chest, sending waves of electric along his skin. “I’m your beautiful, strong, yummy boyfriend, remember?” he smirked smugly before leaning into your lips, planting an intimate kiss on your lips which was strangely soft but nonetheless comforting as he pulled you onto his lap.

You straddled his warmth, “That you are, baby.” you hummed contently and wrapped your arms around his waist, head leaning against his shoulder and you two just laid there in a tranquil silence as you inhaled eachothers familiar scents, nourished in the ambience of electric devotion.

·.✧ ✦ ✧.·

a/n: sorry this is so bad guys im working on like 3 things rn in my drafts. xox T.

#𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ tara’s letters #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood #batboys #dc comics #dcu #red hood x fem!reader #batman x reader

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iydiamartinx · 2 months ago

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THE ART OF RESTRAINT

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

divider by: @cafekitsune & @iydiamartinx word count: 1.9k synopsis: They’ve always known how to win. But when a charity photoshoot puts Gotham’s most ruthless CEOs in each other’s arms, in nothing but their underwear—they’re forced to face the one game neither is willing to lose. a/n: I thought I loved the Dick and Jason version but I've changed my mind. Bruce is just something else.

Gotham elite and the tabloids loved a spectacle. And this year’s calendar fundraiser had done the impossible—put you on a bed, half-dressed, with him.

Bruce Wayne.

Heir. CEO. Gotham’s golden obsession. A man carved from legacy and wealth, currently in the prime of a life most people would kill to live. Late thirties, sharp as the suits he wore, and infuriatingly at ease in his own skin. That steel-cut jawline had graced Forbes, GQ, and headlines you tried very hard to ignore.

You’d fought him in boardrooms. Matched wits at galas. Outbid him in billion-dollar deals where charm was just a sharper blade. The two of you were constantly battling for ground. And now, here you were.

Not behind a podium. Not across a negotiation table.

But a bed.

Both of you had been voted Gotham’s hottest CEOs in a public poll that your PR team had insisted was a win. Visibility, they called it. Brand power. A good cause. You weren’t even sure how your assistant thought you’d agree to something like this—but they had said yes on your behalf, and now you were locked in.

There was no room for protest. No way to claw your dignity back without headlines.

So you wore the robe. Sat at the vanity. Pretended like you weren’t already counting the ways you’d make that assistant’s life hell.

And then he stepped out from behind the modesty screen.

Wearing black boxer-briefs and nothing else, Bruce Wayne crossed the set like a man walking into his own penthouse. Calm. Controlled. Completely unbothered in his own skin. You watched him in the mirror without turning your head, studying the way his body moved—fluid and composed, like none of this fazed him.

Of course it didn’t.

He thrived on this kind of thing. Power plays. Publicity. Knowing eyes were on him. There was a reason he was Gotham’s most eligible bachelor.

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous,” he said, voice low and smooth as he came to stand behind you. His reflection met yours in the glass—eyes dark, unreadable. “You’ve never struck me as the modest type.”

You tilted your head slightly, arching a brow without breaking eye contact.

“And you’ve never struck me as the type to sell yourself in stretch cotton,” you replied coolly.

His mouth curved. “Charity humbles us all.”

“Funny,” you said, reaching for a brush you didn’t need, just to keep your hands busy. “I thought I did that.”

He didn’t laugh.

But the smile deepened.

“You try.”

That was the thing with Bruce. Behind the easy grins and playboy attitude, he was sharper than most people recognized and it was because of that you were always on your guard. That man’s charm could be even deadlier than his money and the last thing you needed was to fall victim to it.

The photographer clapped, bright and overly eager. “Alright! Let’s get started.”

Bruce moved first, taking his place on the bed.

“Y/N, on Bruce’s lap. Bruce—hands wherever feels natural. Make it look like you’ve already crossed the line.”

You glanced toward the man now lounging at the edge of the bed, legs spread in unapologetic confidence. One arm draped lazily behind him, the other resting beside his thigh. You gritted your teeth at how he annoyingly seemed to own the space without trying.

You stood, letting the robe slip from your shoulders.

The silk whispered down your frame and pooled at your feet, and the air shifted. It felt as if it suddenly got thicker with tension.

Your black lingerie was lined with lace and tailored to flatter, pushing up your breasts, flattering the curves of your body, it had been handpicked by your stylist to make headlines. The lingerie was made for you.

And the way Bruce looked at you—like something feral had briefly flashed behind his composed mask—told you he knew it too.

He recovered quickly, of course. He always did. His eyes met yours again, calm and calculating, as if he hadn’t just raked over you with the quiet hunger of a man starved

You stepped toward the bed, the sound of your heels echoing over polished concrete.

Bruce Wayne looked like sin in monochrome—black boxer briefs, bronzed skin, hair just a little too tousled to be accidental. Smug, unbothered, and very aware of the weight of your gaze.

You exhaled slowly and climbed into his lap, one knee on either side of his thighs, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders. His palms slid to your waist instantly—firm, practiced, far too at ease.

“Comfortable?” he asked, voice low and edged with amusement.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you murmured, even as your fingers curled at the nape of his neck.

“Closer,” the photographer called. “Less posed, more like—God, I don’t know—like someone’s about to make a very bad decision.”

Your body shifted automatically. You leaned in until your nose nearly brushed his cheekbone, your lips hovering beside his jaw.

“Better?” you said, saccharine-sweet for the camera.

His hands tightened just slightly, fingers pressing into the curve of your waist—possessive, anchoring. “Getting there,” He grunted.

You pulled back slightly to make eye contact.

Your fingers slid from the nape of his neck to the edge of his jaw, thumb brushing lightly across the stubble there. His skin was warm, the tension beneath it taut like coiled wire—contained, but ready to snap.

“Good,” the photographer called again, sounding far too pleased. “Now move a little. Let’s get a story going. Y/N, take the lead. Bruce—let her.”

Sliding your hands down the front of his chest, you let your fingers trace the ridges of muscle beneath smooth skin. His breathing didn’t change, but you could feel the heat rising between you. He didn’t move—didn’t so much as twitch.

But you felt the breath he held.

You pressed firmly against his chest until his body gave under your hands.

Bruce let himself fall back against the bed, but the look in his eyes as he did was anything but yielding.

You followed him down, never breaking eye contact, your knees still bracketing his hips. One hand braced beside his head, the other resting against his stomach. Your hair slid over your shoulder, framing the sharp curve of your jaw and the wicked curl of your smile

Your lips grazed the slope of his collarbone.

You could feel the tension in his abdomen when your fingers brushed against it. Felt the control—the restraint—bleeding off of him in waves.

The photographer was muttering something about intensity and chemistry and God bless Gotham as his camera went off like crazy, but you barely heard him, your attention was fully on the silent challenge that was between you and bruce.

You trailed lower, just slightly, letting your mouth skim over the edge of his sternum. Then down. Slower. Your breath hot against his skin as you moved further, nearing the waistband of his briefs.

You smiled, lips ghosting just above the line of fabric.

Bruce’s hands snapped to your waist—strong, unrelenting—and the world tilted.

He turned you beneath him in a single, brutal sweep of motion. The mattress caught your back with a soft thud, air leaving your lungs in a sharp exhale as your spine met the sheets.

You barely had time to gasp before he was above you—on you—pressing you down with nothing but presence.

His thigh slid between yours. His weight settled in close.

One palm braced near your ribs.

The other wrapped, firm and steady, around your throat.

His thumb traced the underside of your jaw, tipping your face up toward his. His voice a rasp only you could hear. “Are you done pretending you’re in control?”

You stared up at him, pulse hammering under his touch, refusing to look away. You hated how easily your breath hitched. How good he looked above you like this. Like power incarnate, dressed in nothing but black and confidence.

Your nails grazed his ribs in response. Just enough to remind him you were going to fold to him that easily.

“No,” you whispered, lips parted, breath trembling just enough to betray the pulse hammering in your throat. “But it’s cute that you think you are.”

His smile was slow. Measured. Dangerous. The kind of smile that made men break and corporations crumble.

“You’re cute when you lie,” He murmured.

His grip shifted, tightening warningly. A sharp breath escaped your lips before you could stop it, as he suddenly moved. Leaning back, he dragged you up with him by the throat like it was effortless. His hand adjusted, tilting your chin higher, forcing your eyes back to his.

Click.

Flash.

The sound of the shutter cracked through the charged silence like distant thunder.

“Beautiful,” the photographer called from somewhere outside the haze. “Hold that. Bruce, shift your hand—yes, just like that. Now lean in, like you’re about to kiss her.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

Bruce leaned down slowly, deliberately, until his lips hovered a breath above yours—so close that his exhale ghosted across your skin, warm and maddening. Every molecule of air between you felt electric, buzzing with the threat of something unraveling.

But he didn’t touch you.

Didn’t close the gap.

You weren’t pretending anymore. Neither of you were. The shoot, the cameras, the lights—they’d all faded into background noise.

This wasn’t about a calendar.

This wasn’t about charity.

This was about control.

And God help you… you were losing.

Your body had gone still beneath him, pliant under the weight of his dominance. You could feel the fine tremor of anticipation humming through your limbs, the heat pooling between your legs as your breath caught and your lips parted—soft, instinctive, traitorous.

Bruce’s voice was barely audible—more breath than sound. “Say it.”

You blinked up at him, pupils blown wide. “Say what?”

“That you want me.”

Your jaw clenched. A flicker of something sharp passed through your eyes—anger, maybe. Or pride, stubborn to the last breath.

He waited. Poised. Patient. A man who always got what he wanted—and knew it.

“I want…” you began, slow and deliberate, your fingers trailing down his side. The heat of him scorched under your touch. You let your hand drag over every inch like a threat, like a dare. “…you off me.”

He smiled. That same maddening, ruinous smile.

But he didn’t move.

“Liar.”

Your breath caught at the back of your throat, just a hitch—but it was enough. He felt it. You knew he did.

Click.

Flash.

The camera shutter broke the silence, loud and sudden.

“Perfect!” the photographer shouted. “Don’t move. That’s the cover.”

But neither of you were listening.

Not until the sharp, sudden clapping of the photographer cut clean through the tension like a knife through silk.

“That was wonderful, you two,” he said, breathless, awestruck. “Let’s call it a wrap.”

The spell broke.

Bruce pulled away without a word, and the absence of his weight was immediate. Jarring. The air felt colder without him, your skin a little too bare where he’d touched you—like your body hadn’t gotten the message that it was over.

He stood and adjusted the robe slung over the back of a nearby chair, but didn’t bother putting it on. Just draped it over his arm, muscles shifting beneath golden skin. He looked as if the entire encounter hadn’t phased him at all.

You sat up slowly, smoothing your hair back with a practiced hand, doing your best to pretend your heart wasn’t still pounding in your chest.

“I’ll see you at the charity gala,” he said casually, as if he hadn’t just manhandled you for the cameras and whispered sin into your skin.

You didn’t answer. Just watched him walk away.

Just before disappearing around the corner, he turned his head and looked at you. That same impossible expression on his face. Not smug. Not soft. Something in between. Something far more dangerous.

Your eyes narrowed.

This wasn’t over. Game on.

Next Chapter →

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x y/n #batman #batman x reader #batman x you #batman x y/n #Bruce is a model #Bruce needs to be on too hot to handle cause goddamn #dc comics #batman comics

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mixingandmelting · 6 months ago

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Crashing Unannounced

Summary: rating how bad they are with coming over without telling you

A/N: Inspired and can be treated as a part-two of this request here

Dick: Bad

Does it whenever he misses you especially when it’s been a long time since he last saw you, having a impulsive urge to just see you out of the blue, wanting comfort, worried about you

If he could, he’d be doing it everyday as it would mean he’d get to stay with you but he does respect personal boundaries

Also cherishes your safety and keeps it as his top priority. He’s not exactly a normal person to go out with, having been targeted as both Nightwing and Dick Grayson before

Mostly does it when you’re there where he tries to do it when your awake, knocking on the window with a grin that goes from hopeful to full out joy when he manages to surprise you in a good way

When you’re asleep and either of you are going through a bad time, he enters and ends up snuggling with you in bed

Ask him how he got here when you wake up and he’ll just mumble arbitrarily “through the door” before pulling you towards him and spooning you

Jason: Not as bad

He’s not as frequent as Dick where he also does it when he really misses you whether it’s random or he hasn’t seen you in a while and you’re awake. Though he does it more out of worry whether you're in danger, having a bad time, or sick or when he really needs comfort and support which equates to essentially you

Cares about privacy and personal space since it’s his first time in an actual relationship so he doesn’t want to cross a line

Also because being a crime lord-turned-vigilante isn’t the safest job career and can lead you to be put in danger

When it comes to coming over unannounced and taking you completely off guard though - yeah, he does that though

If you’re not there and he needs(wants) to see you, he’ll stay at your place and wait until you come back. Legit even texts where are you if he’s been waiting for a while and if you ask why, he’ll bluntly answer that he’s over your place

Has surprised you in your own living room where he’d be casually sitting on the couch, helmet/muzzle off surfing through the channels, looking up and asking you what took you so long before cuddling with you and hanging out

Tim: Really Bad

Bold of you to assume he drops by only when you’re there. He drops by every time when he’s around regardless if you’re there or not because he’s always wanting to be around you

Occurred even before the two of you started dating, watching over you to make sure your life is going fine and no one or a thing is causing harm to you because that’s how bad he had and still has for you

Knocks on the glass window to get your attention if you’re there so he could hang out for a bit

Most of the time though you’re not there, so he sneaks in to make sure everything isn’t out of the ordinary and that you’re still okay

Always leaves a gift as a sign that he was there because he ironically feels guilty entering your home and at least he isn’t randomly dropping by empty handed, right…?

In a way it’s Christmas for half the year with how many times he comes over

Duke: Good

He was taught to be a gentleman so it’s extremely rare for him to crash unannounced

Always rings on the doorbell or knocks on the front door if it doesn’t have one while coming over after he gets the okay from you whether it’s in person, call, or text

Even when he’s suddenly wanting to see you, he gives you a heads up that he’s going your way and asks if it’s alright to stop by

The times he actually arrives unannounced is when he notices you’re going through something and he wants to cheer you up or help you out. Maybe even plan a mini, impromptu surprise party with food, flowers, or a stuffed bear in the tow

If not, it’s when something bad is going down and he wants to make sure that you’re safe and sound

Makes sure to knock on the window but most times, again, he’s getting your attention through the front door

Damian: Worst of the worst

Every day, every time, whether it’s because he’s bored, he’s wanting your affection, he needs something from you. Sometimes even when there’s no reason, it’s just because

Depending on his mood, he’ll casually enter your bedroom and stay there until you come back so he could get entertained by your reaction

Or purposely wakes you up by tapping the window so he could talk to you

Bet on him observing your sleeping form both out and inside your home, feeling the tingles in his heart how peaceful you look before he places the gift he got you at your bedside

Of course, with a complimentary note that tells you not to think too into it, he only got it at a whim (it actually took him a few days to get the courage to get it for you)

Overall, it’s a reminder you’re not safe from him and it’s better to stay alert. Also the so-called “traps” you set up never work on him, so you can stop bother doing those now. He’s not a mouse

#dick grayson #nightwing #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin dc #tim drake #red robin x reader #duke thomas x reader #duke thomas #dc signal #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader

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goddamnitmahtin · 5 months ago

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Danny’s Designer Friend

Okay so hear me out. Danny jumps universes a lot right? It’s a part of running errands for Clockwork. He may be the Ghost king but since he was Clockwork’s mentee at the same time, he had to run time errands sometimes. It took him to some really interesting places.

Some places had magic, some didn’t. Some had heroes that used their own devices and some had heroes that used magical artifacts to manifest abilities. Some didn’t have heroes at all. Some universes had lots of technology and some were working to catch up. And obviously, Danny had his favorites. And he had his favorite people from each.

So…. Danny had an idea.

…

Bruce looked around suspiciously, alert to any dangers that may be in the area. He and all of his children were on duty when all of a sudden he ended up in a modern mansion of sorts with an indoor waterfall.

“What in the world-?” He heard Tim say as Red Robin appeared as well.

“Oi-!” from a surprised Spoiler as she appeared.

Sword slashing noises as Robin appeared, apparently trying to slice the air, “What is this trickery!”

Next Duke in his pajamas and Nightwing appeared, landing on top of one another. “Get your sweaty ass off me,” Bruce heard his son say as he pushed his older brother off of him.

“GUYS!” Oracle called as she fell. She had teleported in but her chair didn’t seem to have come with her. Red Robin and Spoiler caught her just in time.

Orphan appeared silently.

Then Oracle’s wheelchair popped in, dropping onto Signal just as he had stood up. “Oh come on!” he exclaimed as a post it note apology appeared on his forehead. Presumably for forgetting the chair.

Lastly, Red Hood appeared, guns out and ready to fire. That is, if only he had anything to fire at. He quickly put them away once he realized it was only the bats and birds. The others wouldn’t have noticed it but behind his helmet, Jason was wide eyed, noticing the post it note. He only knew of two entities that used that form of communication and one meant something significantly better than the other.

After a few moments of Red Robin and Spoiler helping Oracle into her chair, footsteps could be heard approaching. Everyone tensed, ready for a fight. Except Red Hood who could feel his core tugging at him familiarly.

Two people approached. First person they were able to see was Danny. He had decided to show up in his kingly glory, his ceremonial cloak billowing behind him. As he got closer, they could see a very short woman with black hair and round glasses smoking a cigarette walking with him. Despite Danny being a king, she was the one in charge.

The woman walked up to the group with a judgmental look, “Every one of you. When I point, you tell me your title and occupation. Go.”

Nobody said anything.

“You guys better do what she says,” said Danny chuckling. Their faces so far were hilarious.

Slowly, the family obliged, starting with Red Hood.

“I go by Red Hood. I’m a crime lord. And a vigilante I guess,” Jason said. He knew enough to know they weren’t in any danger.

The others followed along until finally it got to Bruce, “I’m Batman. Vigilante.”

The short woman scoffed and immediately started pointing out the flaws in everyone’s outfits, “You all look ridiculous! What is that, bunny ears? And you! Red, green and yellow are far too many colors! You look like a traffic light! You! Those shoes are impractical and appalling! Do any of you know what style is?!”

She walked up to Duke, “I have seen photos of your suit and it is disgusting! Too bright!”

She gestured wildly to the group, “And NO CAPES!”

The woman then went up to Red Hood, “You are perfect darling, practical and filled with personality. You are my favorite.”

Danny chuckled, “He’s my favorite too.” The king shot a knowing smirk to Jason who under his helmet blushed from the comment.

“I am designing you all new suits right away!” the woman exclaimed with a wild look in her eye.

Danny couldn’t help but start laughing at this point. The looks on everyone’s faces were pure gold. This was the best idea he had literally ever had.

“I can’t wait to see it Edna. I can pay for it too,” the king said, sneaking a glance at Red Hood, “Anything for future in-laws.”

#dcxdp #dc x dp #danny phantom x dc #dc x dp crossover #batfam #dc x dp x incredibles #edna mode #NO CAPES #dead on main #ghost king danny #danny fenton #bewildered Batfam #I have no idea what Edna’s redesigns would look like but they would probably kick ass

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deadsetobsessions · 5 months ago

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The Gotham Academy staff and teachers would very much like to thank Bruce Wayne for his current spawn. Granted, they’d thank him more if he’d stop acquiring children and then sending them to the Academy, but the good teachers of Gotham Academy has learned to be grateful for what they get.

Damian Wayne, compared to his elder siblings, is a downright charmer of a young man. There was, of course, a period of adjustment. But other than some mild threats of bodily harm- they lived in Gotham, a stabbing was considered minor- and that incident with the sword, Damian was a well behaved student who adjusted admirably to the change in scenery.

Not like the other Wayne and Wayne sponsored spawn. Dick Grayson will go down in history, nay, he will be engraved in infamy after the month of hell he put the custodians through. Their chandeliers and railings were not meant to be used as gymnastics equipment. The headmaster had to give them a raise after they cried about wiping footprints off of the ceiling. Not to mention the fights this kid got into.

Jason Todd, rest his poor soul, had terrorized the librarians for months! Sweet kid, really, but the librarian had to go on break because he kept hearing Jason’s “excuse me, could you find-” ringing in his ears. A sweet kid, really, until he got mad enough to slip back to that Alley mouth. The amount of complaints the headmaster got after the PTA heard him swear around their “sweet, innocent children” was the stuff of legends, even if the PTA kids definitely swore more and did more drugs than the Alley kid’s ever done.

And nobody, NOBODY, ever wants to mention the fact that Tim Drake had ever haunted these hallways again. Skipping class, hacking into the system to give himself good grades, and inciting a minor lunch room riot were the least of his crimes. His attendance was atrocious. The teachers swore up and down that he’d missed their classes, but then they’d see the checked mark- that damned mark- on their attendance sheet next to his name and felt like they were losing their damned minds.

Stephanie Brown? Sponsored by Bruce Wayne? Not only did her chaotic energy synergize with Tim Drake’s like a monsoon after a magnitude 8 earthquake, her colloquialisms spread like a plague. If her teachers had to hear “swing that knife sock, sadman,” one more time, they were going to tear their hairs out. Somehow, she’d even started an underground sticker trading market that had to be stopped once it escalated to motorcycles being traded for a super rare minted edition sparkly Spoiler sticker.

Duke Thomas, on the other hand, was reluctantly deemed as a good kid. But only on the basis of the teachers being unable to prove anything. A particular bully here and there got pranked to high heavens. Chemicals were stolen from the chemistry storage- the administration nearly had a heart attack thinking they had another rogue in the making- and returned with only a bit taken off from random containers. Duke was spotted near the crime scene but one innocent look later and innocence was declared. Honestly, by the time he arrived at the school, the teachers decided that as long as they had plausible deniability, Duke was innocent. And no, they don’t know who used the glass inside of the art rooms to create a school wide hazard in order to shut it down for the week. They don’t.

And so, Damian Wayne was automatically selected as the favorite Wayne scion. Not because of blood- the headmaster remembered Martha Wayne, thank you very much- but because he was the most well behaved child they’ve ever had from the Wayne bunch. He gives them a peace none of them have felt since Dick Grayson first graced these halls.

They do NOT talk about Bruce Wayne’s days. The more buried those days are, the less likely Gotham sees a new host of teacher-turned-supervillains.

#dc universe #gotham academy #dick grayson #dick grayson during his menace days #Jason Todd #Jason Todd the plague of librarians #Tim Drake #Stephanie Brown #Duke Thomas #Bruce Wayne #Damian Wayne #in which Damian was in fact the chillest Robin

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