Tumgik
autumnleaves1991-blog · 15 hours
Text
I was today years old when I learned that when you type “otp: true” in AO3 search results it filters out fics with additional ships, leaving only the fics where your otp is the main ship
Tumblr media
173K notes · View notes
autumnleaves1991-blog · 15 hours
Note
When you boil a funny bone it becomes a laughingstock.
Hate this, thank you
59K notes · View notes
Note
Reading this on my lunch break and now I’m crying 😭
I'm BEGGING for a continuation of the drabble where Reader breaks up with Jason
Thinking of him injured and alone after almost dying is killing me 😭
this got more serious than i intended lol but i hope you like it anon! finally there is resolution!
jason todd x gn!reader. tw jason almost dies, hints of self destructive behavior, guilt, communication (i am forcing the batboys to be good communicators!!!), injured jason, dick being the bestest goodest big brother.
pt 2 to this
****
It's extremely stupid for you to be out this late, but if you hadn't left tonight, you'd probably never leave. And you needed to leave. You can't sustain whatever you and Jason had.
Asking him to quit would've been unfair, and you know he won't do it. This city pulls him back in every time.
"Where ya headed?" the cab driver asks. He doesn't look too shady. He'll definitely overcharge you, but at this point, you don't care. You just want to go home.
"Gotham Heights." You don't give him the exact address, but someplace close enough.
It's begun to rain. You try not to think about how you just left Jason. You turned off your phone as soon as you closed the door; you know he's probably calling like crazy, but as soon as you answer, you'll go back.
And you can't.
You blink back tears. You can't keep watching him throw himself into worse and worse danger. Jason fights crime like he'd sooner let it kill him. One day, it will.
The car pulls up to a stoplight. You're dozing; it's nearly eleven o'clock after all.
Suddenly, something lands on the hood. You jump, heart dropping.
"What the fuck?!" the driver squawks.
Nightwing perches on the hood of the cab. He lightly taps the windshield.
"Evening. Mind pulling over?" he asks pleasantly. "I'm actually their designated driver tonight."
"Nightwing!" you snap, hot with anger. "Get off the car!"
"You shut off your phone and left," Dick says, those white lenses zeroed in on you. His tone is cutting. "He's losing his mind. You know we don't go dark."
You close your eyes briefly. "We almost lost him, 'Wing," you croak.
"So your instinct was to leave?"
"Alright, that's it! Get outta the car," the driver says, unlocking the doors. "Fuckin' crazies..."
Dick opens the door for you and tosses a roll of twenties on the seat. The cab speeds off. You wrap your arms around yourself as he guides you to the sidewalk.
Several emotions cross Dick's face, before he lands on one. Sympathy.
"What happened?" he asks softly.
Your face crumples. "He died, Dick."
"I know," he says, holding your elbow. "I was scared too. But he's okay. He's the toughest guy I know."
"How am I supposed to keep him alive?" you ask desperately. "I can't."
Dick frowns. "That's not your job. I wouldn't expect that of you, and I know Jason doesn't either. None of us do."
You press your palms to your eyes and start to cry for real.
"I just want him to be okay. Every time he goes out, I think it'll be the last time I see him. I love him too much to lose him, Dick."
Dick hums. "Have you told him this?"
You shrug, wiping your eyes with your hand. "Some of it. I-" You wince. "I yelled before I left. He was being so nonchalant about it, and I know it was so I wouldn't worry, but..."
"I know. He can be a real pinhead about some things, but Jason's on it when it counts. He loves you a lot, and I think he'd want to know you're feeling this way."
You rub your eyes so hard you see shapes. "I don't know, Dick. I don't know if I can tonight."
Dick sighs sadly. "Alright. Look, I'll take you home. But can you at least tell him you're okay? He called me up, terrified. Said he dreamt you were in an accident."
Nightmares. The guilt triples.
You turn on your phone. Ten missed calls and fifteen unread texts pop up.
[10:38pm] Baby please come back
At least text me you're okay
I messed up, and you can leave, but at least tell me you're safe
[10:42pm] I'm calling Dick
Sweetheart don't get into a car
[10:43pm] Please don't I have a bad feeling about it
Call me please
You sniffle and tap on Jason's contact. The phone rings once before he picks up.
"Baby? Hi, hi. God, fuck. Are you okay? Is Dick there?"
Jason sounds wrecked. His voice is raw like he's been crying. Tears start to build up in your own eyes.
"H-hey, Jay. Yeah, I'm okay. Dick is here."
"I'm sorry," he says. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have scared you. Shouldn't have been reckless. I won't do that again. I won't patrol alone anymore. I'll-I'll work with Batman again. I called him just now. Told him I'd be at the Cave next week."
"Jay, don't force yourself to work with Batman for me," you say, your stomach a pit. "I don't want you to do something that'll make you miserable."
It's been better, lately, Jason's relationship with his family. It's not perfect, but then again, you wouldn't expect a family that dresses up in Halloween costumes every night to fight crime to be perfect.
"It won't!" Jason says. "Look, B and I have our differences. That's for damn sure. But I'm not so mad about it these days. And I should be safer. You were right. I want to come home to you, sweetheart, I do. If that means working in a team, then I'll do it. I'll do whatever will make us both happy and safe."
You squeeze your eyes shut. "I'm sorry I wasn't there sooner, Jay. I should've been."
"Oh." Jason sounds heartbroken. You can imagine him running a rough hand through his hair right now, tearing through the strands. "No, no, no. Baby, my love, listen. I don't blame you for any of this. That's not your responsibility. It's my job to keep myself alive. And Leslie's, once in a while. But I don't expect that from you. Never from you."
It's quiet for several moments. Then Jason speaks again, tone timid.
"Have I... did I make you feel that way?"
"No, you didn't," you say, opening your eyes. "Not directly. But... I don't know, Jay, I've just felt like there's nothing holding you back some days. You fight like you're fighting something inside of you." You bite the inside of your cheek. "I don't want it to burn you out for good."
Not again, you don't say.
Dick bows his head, and suddenly, you're there, watching them lower Jason Todd's body into the ground.
"I won't let it," Jason whispers. "I won't. I'm sorry I did this to you. Made you feel like this. I only ever wanna be good for you. I'm-I'm trying to be good."
Your lip trembles. "I wanna come home, Jay."
Jason makes a desperate sound, like a wounded animal. "Please come home, baby. I don't want you to leave. Wanna hold you so bad."
"Okay." You nod at the phone and look at Dick. "Can you take me home?"
He smiles, small and hopeful. "Of course."
****
Jason nearly tears the door off of its hinges before you can knock. He's probably been listening for your footsteps all evening. Your throat tightens.
"Hi, baby, hi, hi," Jason says, bracing himself against the doorframe as he pulls you into a hug. "Missed you so much. Love you so much. I'll be better, it'll be better. I promise."
You kiss his shoulder and bury your face in his warm chest, listening to his heartbeat. A-live, a-live, a-live, it says.
"Thanks, Dickie," Jason murmurs into your skin.
"Sure thing, Little Wing," Dick says, and you think he might sound a little misty-eyed. Sentimental sap.
"Thanks, D," you say softly, and Dick squeezes your shoulder.
"Get some sleep, both of you."
"You first," Jason says, and Dick laughs on his way out.
You help Jason inside, tucked under his arm, and this time, he lets you guide him to the bed. He allows you removal of your shoes and jeans before tugging you in with him.
"I'll be better," he vows, and rolls you over so you're face-to-face. "I promise."
"I believe you," you say, thumb brushing over his salt-streaked cheek. "I'm sorry I went dark, sweetie."
He shakes his head. "'S okay. Well, I mean, it's not, but I understand. I just want you safe. And here. But only if you wanna be here. I won't force you."
"Of course I want to be here, Jay," you say, kissing his cheek. "There's no place I'd rather be. I just... I want us to live."
Jason swallows and nods.
"I'll live. I will. For both of us."
726 notes · View notes
Note
Ouch that was painful 😭
Hi! I love your writing so much and I'm really excited about you doing requests :) Would you consider writing a drabble (inspired by Window Pains 😉) in which Jason and Reader are in a relationship filled with trust and safety (and blood lol) but Reader becomes overwhelmed by the responsibility and worry over patching Jason up and pretty much keeping him from dying all the time? Reader breaks things off and it hurts Jason more than he ever anticipated (I'm a sucker for angst 😌).
sucker for angst eh? if you insist 😎
jason todd x gn!reader. tw jason almost dies, reader is guilty and scared and doesn't want to lose him etc etc. breakup. marinate in the unresolved angst! hehe
prompt lists are here! i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary
Now with a pt 2!
****
You're shaking by the time you get back to Jason's apartment.
His heart had stopped. He'd been alone in a warehouse, comms fried, clinically dead for three minutes.
He'd died.
"He'll be okay," Dick had said, but you'd seen the way he'd cradled his baby brother's head in his lap.
He very easily could've not been okay.
"Take it easy," you say as Jason hobbles through the threshold.
You trail behind him with his duffel over your shoulder and the bag of medication Alfred had prepared in your hand. Jason slumps onto the couch. He hisses when the movement jostles his bandaged ribs.
"Why aren't you in bed?" you ask, setting his duffel down.
"'Cause I'll keep you up. Pain meds always give me nightmares. 'S why I told Bruce not to give 'em to me. But does the old man listen? No, of fucking course not."
"Jason, I don't care if you wake me up with your nightmares. Your body needs to heal. It can't do that if you're on a lumpy couch."
"Baby, it's not a big deal," he says, not even looking at you. "I'll be fine in a couple of days anyway. Babs said there's some trafficking ring in Crime Alley. If I time it right, I can get—"
You throw the bag of pills onto the table. Jason doesn't flinch but he does look at you, one brow raised.
"Wh—"
"You were clinically dead for three minutes!" you shout. "What don't you understand about that?"
"What are you talking about?" he asks, face pinching. "I was fine. I'm alive. I'm here. Close calls happen all the time."
"You died! Your heart stopped!"
"Not the first time," he says evenly.
As soon as he says it, you can tell he regrets it. You crumple all the same, bracing yourself against the couch.
"I can't sit around waiting for you to die, Jason," you say quietly. "That'll break me for good."
"Baby, you were there. You're always there in time, and Dick was—"
"Dick could've been a minute late, and then I would've had to hold my dead boyfriend until the ambulance came," you say, closing your eyes.
You can't get the image of Jason, pale and lifeless in Dick's arms, out of your head.
"I wouldn't have... sweetheart, I would've been okay. I'm always okay—"
You cover your face as you start to cry. Jason makes a soft noise.
"Baby, don't cry, please. I wasn't—I'm sorry I scared you, honey."
"I can't do this, Jay, I can't lose you," you cry, palms wet with tears.
"You won't! I'll be more careful, I promise—"
"I can't keep you alive, Jason. I can't—can't do it anymore."
You pick up your bag and your phone, walking towards the door.
"Baby," Jason starts, fear bleeding into his voice. "Sweetheart, stop. Stop it. Where are you going?"
"I'm going home," you say, wiping your cheek. "I'm done, Jay. I can't do this."
"No, no, baby, please. Please, baby, it's late, don't go. I don't want you to go. This is home," Jason says desperately, trying to stand up from the couch.
"Jay, sit down before you pull your stitches," you say.
He ignores you. You open the door and wince when he grunts in pain. He's too slow to stop you tonight, and that's all the reminder you need to leave.
"I'm sorry," you say. "I love you, Jason. But I can't watch you kill yourself."
"Please—"
The door shuts behind you. You start walking before you can change your mind.
You'll never be too late to save Jason Todd.
576 notes · View notes
Note
Cb!Bruce Wayne x secretary
Bruce doesn’t let secretaries stick around but he gets stuck with one very stubborn woman. And then one day/night Bruce is overwhelmed for some mission gone wrong and wallowing in his office and she comforts him.
(Not necessary to include but if it works in: He may try to tell her he’s Batman but she suggests she already knows)
Summary: (y/n) is Bruce's secretary and has been for a while, she's stuck by him even when he's tried to push her away. She stays late every night and looks after him much more than is asked of her and Bruce finally realises what's been in front of him this whole time.
Word count: 1.5K
Warnings: kissing, mentions of death and weapons, panic attack, crying?
-
“Mr Wayne, I have the paperwork you requested.” I walk in holding a chunky folder. Placing it down on his desk I finally look to see him with his head resting on the table, sleeping I believe. “Mr Wayne?” I ask with no response. “Mr Wayne?” I ask again louder and this time he lifts his head off of the table. “Mr Wayne, you should go home,” I suggest to him but he shakes his head.
“(y/n), I’ve got work to do, you know that and I told you to call me Bruce if you’re gonna keep sticking around.” I nod before speaking again.
“Do you need anything else?” I ask in a softer tone picking up on his mood.
“No, no, go home, it’s late.” He says checking his watch. 
I nod again before exiting his office. I stick around for about another hour before making a pot of tea and laying out a tray. I make a cup of tea for him then leave the means to make another cup on the tray. I lay out a small plate on the tray and place two chocolate-covered biscuits on it. 
I take the tray to his door and knock on the door before opening it and walking in. 
“Mr Wayne? I’ve brought you a cup of tea and some biscuits.” I say placing the cup of tea on his desk and unloading the tray next to him.
“(y/n), why are you still here? I told you an hour ago to go home.” He says clicking the keys of his computer.
“I’m okay to stay, Mr Wayne, I’ve got nowhere to be,” I assure him with a small smile.
“You can’t keep doing this, (y/n), you do this every day, you can’t keep staying so late.”
“I’ll keep staying late whilst you do, sir,” I reply. “I’ll go home when you do,” I say taking the empty tray, pressed up against my chest out of the room.
“(y/n).” He shouts after me but I keep walking out of the door. I tuck behind the door and chuckle quietly to myself like a schoolgirl with a crush as I hear him sigh.
Walking off to finish my work I place the tray down in the kitchen, grabbing myself the cup of coffee I made when I made his tea earlier.
Sitting at my desk I can only hear silence, that is until 12:03 am every day when a mechanical sound rings out through the mansion. It used to creep me out but it’s nothing as ominous as it sounds, it’s only Bruce fooling around in the basement playing with his toys. I say toys, they’re cars and machines all painted black and fitted with an abundance of guns and weapons which reminds me of a certain masked vigilante.
----------------------
The next day, I take the usual late-night route through the kitchen to make some tea and set up the usual tray when I hear a muffled sobbing sound coming from Mr Wayne’s office.
Venturing out of the kitchen, I make my way to his office. I peek around the corner seeing him hunched over his desk with his face in his hands.
“Mr Wayne?” I ask, tentatively. 
He looks up shocked to see me which reveals his distraught face. His face is stained with tears, his eyes red and puffy and his breathing is ragged and uneven. He scrunches his eyes and sucks in a quick breath before he rubs his face with his hands and starts gripping his hair.
“Sir!” I say watching him pull on his hair. “Stop pulling your hair, please.” I walk over to him quickly and sit in the chair opposite. I place my hands on top of his and he slowly stops. “Mr Wayne,” I say, gently removing his hands from his head and placing them on the table with my hands on top of his. “Breathe,” I say in a calming tone trying to get him to breathe with me. 
After a few minutes, his breathing slows down and he is generally calmer now.
“Mr Wayne,” I pause still holding onto his hands. “What’s wrong?” I ask gently.
“I told you to call me Bruce.” He says in a monotone voice I didn’t expect him to speak in. His voice doesn’t waver like I expected it’s merely the same as usual.
“Bruce…What’s wrong?” I ask again swapping out the name.
“I messed up.” He says shaking his head, looking anywhere but my eyes.
“Why? What did you do?” I ask, now panicked by his panic but I’ve got to keep a calm front to help the both of us.
“I could’ve gotten everyone killed, I nearly got everyone killed.” He says mindlessly babbling to himself. I rub my thumbs over his hands trying to keep him calm. “I nearly got you killed, you could’ve been killed.” He says finally looking into my eyes and flipping our hands over. 
“I’m fine though.” I say tears starting to brim my eyes, I hate seeing him like this. “I’m not dead.” I say with a small chuckle but he doesn’t seem to find it very funny.
“I could’ve gotten you killed. I’m so sorry.” He says standing up and leaning forward to engulf me in his arms. At first, I’m caught off guard but then I hug him back. “I’m sorry.” He says pulling apart from me and then sitting back down in his chair as if nothing has happened. “I’ll send you three months' pay. You don’t have to work here anymore.” He says with his head resting on his hands.
“You don’t need to, I don’t want to leave.” I say with an attempted smile. “I want to stay,”
“I’m firing you, (y/n).” He says with a straight face and I feel my heart break slightly. “You don’t have to work here anymore.”
----------------------
Last night was a tough one, for sure/
I put on my usual uniform outfit for work and head to the mansion even though he fired me. With my usual black trousers and white shirt, I use my set of keys and let myself in. It’s early so Bruce won’t be awake yet just like usual. Following my normal routine of discarding my stuff and getting to work then head down to my office to get on with my work. A couple of hours later is when he usually wakes up so I walk down to the kitchen to make Bruce breakfast.
For some reason, all the cooks, butlers and servants got fired by Bruce a while ago, and so did I but I didn’t leave so now I manage all of their jobs. 
I fry some bacon and scramble some eggs whilst putting two pieces of bread in the toaster. A few minutes into cooking the breakfast I hear a husky voice from behind me.
“(y/n)?” He asks and I can hear him rolling his eyes. “What are you doing here? I thought I fired you?” He asks and he sounds hungover.
“Have you been drinking, Bruce?” I ask turning around and walking towards him. “Are you ill?” I ask pressing my hand to his forehead and missing the look on his face. “You haven’t got a temperature,” I say removing my hand from his forehead, suddenly noticing that he’s only wearing a dressing gown.
“I love you.” He blurts out and I can only stare forward not knowing how to react.
“I’ll get you some water, to sober you up,” I say after a few moments walking over to the sink.
“(y/n), I’m not drunk.” He says walking over to me by the sink with a tired tone of voice. 
I turn around with the glass of water in hand and he leans down pressing his lips against mine. My eyes widen as I purse my lips in surprise before slowly melting into the kiss. It’s relatively short, with no dramatic breaking away for air, just a soft, sweet kiss.
“I love you, (y/n), believe me.” He almost begs as I stare at him in shock. “You stay late and get here early every day, I don’t know how you manage it. I tried to push you away, and twice now I’ve tried to fire you but you’re so stubborn you stick by me. I know it’s your job to do some of that but you’ve gone far beyond what’s asked of you and if I’m reading things wrong you can push me away, quit and I’ll keep paying your wages.”
I stand still, frozen at the heartfelt, personal confession. The possibility of him liking me back has never crossed my mind. I thought it would just be an immature crush on my boss and stay that way but it doesn’t seem to be anymore.
“I love you too,” I say quietly before wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him closer. I rest my head on his shoulder as I feel him let out a sigh of relief before pressing a kiss to the side of my head.
Maybe last night wasn't so bad if it ended like this. 
-
AN: I hope you're happy with the fic from the request :)
I hope you enjoyed reading!
357 notes · View notes
Note
I’m so crushed. He has some explaining to do.
hii i love your work and wanted to send a request in :)
can you do “you’re just going to leave me here?!” and “i’m gonna come back for you , do you hear me?” for jason and reader? 💛
maybe they’re on a date and there’s a robbery nearby or a villain crashes a gala they are attending? also maybe the reader knows he’s red hood? or it’s early in their relationship that he hasn’t told them yet? idk if that makes sense, but if you pick this up i can’t wait to see where you take it! 💛
OH IT'S EMOTIONAL ANGST TIME! hurt no comfort 😈 thanks for requesting nonnie 🥰
jason todd x gn!reader | tw: angst, reader feels hurt, lying to protect a superhero identity (is red hood a hero? he is to ME.) i may write a pt 2 to this if there's interest 😎
****
Jason checks his phone for the fourth time tonight. You haven't even received your entrees yet.
"Everything okay?" you ask lightly.
Jason looks up, eyes wide. "Oh. Yes. Sorry, baby. Sorry."
You nod, trying to smile. "It's okay."
He puts his phone in his pocket. You try to relax and focus on your date. This place is upscale, much pricier than you're used to, but Jason had insisted. He'd said he hadn't been doing his due diligence of being your boyfriend and should take you out on more "proper" dates. You'd told him that was silly, of course; you'd be content to go anywhere with him.
But he's been acutely distracted these past few weeks, and you're starting to form terrible explanations in your head for why that might be.
You try to ignore it. You just want to spend time with your boyfriend; it's been so long.
"Oh my God, guess what happened at work today," you say.
Jason leans in, smiling. "Tell me. Was it Peggy from Marketing again?"
"Yes!" You laugh, shaking your head. "She's such a pain. I was in my cubicle when—"
Jason's watch starts to blare, the beep shrill and insistent. He curses and quickly taps at the screen. You slump back in your chair.
"Shit," he says and looks up at you.
You suddenly feel exhausted.
"Baby, I'm so sorry," Jason begins, rising from his chair. "God, fuck—you have no idea how sorry I am. It's my family, they—something's happened with my brother. He needs my help, unfortunately."
"So you're just going to leave me here?" you ask, mouth dropping open in shock. "Jay, we planned tonight two weeks ago!"
He winces. "I know. Fuck, I know, sweetheart. I'm so, so sorry. I'm gonna come back for you, okay? It'll be an hour, tops. Look, order anything you want. I'll leave my card, it's on me—"
You shake your head and stand. "No, Jason. I'm—look, I know your family is important to you, but you've done this a lot this past month, and it's not just hurtful, but it's starting to feel a little intentional. I don't know if I'm some kind of placeholder or, or—"
"Hey, no, no. You're not a placeholder. Please don't say that," Jason begs, reaching for your hand.
You keep your hand out of reach, eyes beginning to heat up.
"I'm going home," you say. "I hope your brother's okay."
"Sweetheart, please, come on. I don't wanna fight."
"Me neither," you say tiredly. "So we won't. Good night, Jason."
His watch beeps again, this time with a phone call. You walk out. It's a nicer part of Gotham, so getting a cab here isn't a problem.
Jason catches up to you instantly. He looks terrified, and it breaks your heart, but you don't have the energy tonight.
"Can I–can I call you tonight?" he asks, voice cracking.
A cab pulls up to the curb. The valet opens the door for you. Jason takes a step forward.
"I'd rather you didn't," you say quietly. "I need some time to myself, Jay."
Jason takes a step back.
"I'm sorry," he says again, desperate.
You sigh. "I know you are."
You get into the car. The valet closes the door. Jason watches you through the window, tugging at his curls like he does when he's stressed.
That night, your bed feels cold. You toss and turn for hours, trying to shake the feeling of a phantom arm snaked around your waist.
Jason doesn't call, like you'd requested. You cry anyway.
575 notes · View notes
Note
if you're still taking requests, could I get one Jason Todd (my phone tried to autocorrect it to toffee) with the prompt "I thought you were scared of heights" pretty please? 🥰
he will henceforth be known as jason toffee (cus he's the sweetest)
thanks for requesting aud 🥰 jason todd x gn!reader. no warnings for once.
****
"Jay, I thought you were scared of heights."
"What makes you say that?"
You watch as he lays a picnic blanket on the blacktop. He gracefully criss-crosses into a sitting position and pats the space next to him. You obediently sit, squealing when Jason pulls you closer to him.
"How about the fact that you refused to go on any ride at the carnival last year?"
"Yeah, 'cause it's Gotham," he says, opening up the picnic basket. "You think I'm gonna get on a ferris wheel in the city with the highest death per capita rate? No thank you."
"But a rooftop picnic is okay," you say, squinting at him.
"Duh. It's perfectly safe. I can't shoot the ferris wheel guy, but I can shoot anyone who's stupid enough to mess with us up here."
Jason brings a chocolate strawberry to your lips. You bite and chew thoughtfully.
"What if Gordon found the body?" you ask.
"Who says he'd find the body?"
"Have I told you I'm desperate for you?"
Jason tuts. "That's what gets you hot? Freak."
You shrug. "Takes one to know one."
"Can't argue there."
He waves a grape and cheese cube combo in front of you, and you dart forward like a piranha, nipping at his finger. He chucks your chin.
"Cheeky," he says, eyes glinting.
"You eat too, Jay," you urge.
"I am, I am." He pops a grape into his mouth.
You sit back and recline into Jason's lap. He accepts you easily, arm curling around your hip. You hum, soaking up the last sun rays of summer.
"This is really nice, baby," you say, petting his cheek.
"You deserve the best," he says, though you can see the spark of relief at your words, the soothed insecurity.
"I have the best," you murmur, kissing his cheek.
Jason smiles at you, something that has become an increasingly frequent occurrence. He feeds you another strawberry.
"I love you," you say.
He kisses your temple tenderly, rubbing your hip. "Love you more, sweets."
Happiness is your favorite look on him, you decide.
554 notes · View notes
Text
Ohhh I really liked this, I would read more!
the teeth you know | dick grayson
Tumblr media
Summary: The war between the humans and the vampires has lasted for a year now. When you fled Gotham, you thought that would be the last time you'd see the Vampire King and the love of your life, Dick Grayson. You were wrong.
Pairing: vampire king!Dick Grayson x fem!reader. based on the dc vs vampires comics
Word count: 1.9k
Warnings/tags: smut!!! 18+ only. oral fem receiving, manipulation, romantic dick, me retconning whatever smarmy little bastard they wrote in dc vs vampires bc that is NOT my dick. dick is literally so gone for you, vampire king or not. themes of death, war, vampires killing humans. if i missed any warnings lmk!
happy almost halloween! follow your dreams and fuck that superhero turned vampire. it'll definitely fix them this time.
the divider
If you like this fic and want to see more, please let me know through reblogs ♡
Tumblr media
Tonight, you dream. 
You don't usually have good dreams. Not since this whole war began. Your dreams are filled with red. Always red, always terrifying. 
Except when he's in them.
The first few times it happened, you yelled at him for intruding on your subconscious. For warping your emotions and making you miss him. He'd laughed at that. 
You should look at yourself a little harder before blaming me. I just appear. You do all the dirty work of missing me, my love.
You're in Gotham in tonight's dream. The old Gotham, of course. Before any bastard undead creatures could suck the life out of your city. Before Dick Grayson haunted your dreams. 
You're on a rooftop ledge, legs dangling. You stare at the harbor. The city's wet from the rain and alive. So alive. You start to cry. 
"Oh, honey," he says, and you cry harder because he sounds exactly like the Dick you knew. 
He keeps his distance, sitting a few feet away. You refuse to look at him, because this is exactly how he gets you to miss him. Dick makes a soft noise when you scrub at your face.
"Have you been eating enough?" he asks, and he almost sounds tender. But you know better. "I'll track down a produce shipment, tell my men to intercept the boat for you."
"Fuck you," you say. "I don't take food out of people's mouths."
Dick edges closer. He feels big in your dreams, looming over you. 
"You wouldn't take food out of anyone's mouth. There's no longer a faction on the planet that requires all that food." 
Because the vampires have all but wiped humans out. You snarl. 
"Why can't you leave me alone?" you snap. "I know you're cruel, but the least you could do is let me dream in peace."
"Have I been cruel to you? I don't mean to be, sweetheart. I visit to check on you."
"Bullshit, Dick." Saying his name makes you shake. "You visit to manipulate me. I'm not going to give up my location, I'm not going to turn against my team, and I'm definitely never going to be your queen."
Dick is next to you on the roof ledge, now. He leans in and you stiffen at his eyes. You still aren't used to the absence of blue.
"Of course not. I wouldn't make you do anything you don't want to," he says, hand slipping across your jaw. You immediately slap him away. He makes a displeased sound. 
"Why don't you find someone else to manipulate? I'm sure you've got countless minions who'd leap at the chance to be with you for eternity." 
"I don't want anyone else," he murmurs. "I've thought of nothing but you since we parted. I wish you hadn't run, my love. Things would be better if we were together, you’d see.”
"Hah. You used to be so much better at compartmentalizing, Grayson. Guess vampires aren't so good at controlling their own desires."
He laughs, tosses his head back. His fangs glint. Dick's smile is deceiving; underneath the charm, there's unimaginable power. Vampirism has treated him well: he's always filled out, lean with muscle, carrying an easy strength everywhere he goes. 
You, on the other hand, suffer from poor nutrition. You didn't sleep well before this mess; now, it's nearly impossible. 
(Except when Dick visits, you feel rested the next morning. You'd never admit such a thing to anybody, but it's the truth.) 
"Oh, sweetheart, but why would I bother controlling my desires now? There's no one stopping me from having what I want."
You stew in silence, turning away from him. Dick sighs. 
"What do you want, hm? Tell me. I'll give you anything." 
"I want you to free every human you're holding captive," you say. "And I want you and your people to stop this war."
"Such a golden heart," Dick says. "That's what I love about you. Always so good."
"You used to be good too," you shoot back bitterly. 
"No, I used to be obedient. There's a difference. I used to be Bruce's little, golden cow."
“He treated you well.”
“When I fell in line,” he says.
You fall quiet again. Dick scoots closer. You scoot away. 
"You know I've already let a few of the humans go. For you, honey. As a sign of goodwill. I'm not totally heartless, you know."
You roll your eyes. 
"Right. Well, us cattle don't find it merciful when we're sent out on our own to die, so you'll have to excuse me if I don't thank Your Highness on my knees."
"You are not cattle," Dick says fiercely. "Don't talk about yourself that way."
"My life is no less human and no more important than theirs," you say, temper flaring. "So, yes, I am."
"That's—"
You fall off the roof before he can say any more. Your stomach swoops similarly to how it would if you were awake. But then the stars bleed into the skyline, and there's a flash of golden light. 
And now you're in a bedroom. It's not one you recognize, richly decorated with golden accents and silk sheets and curtains. You'd almost mistake it for a room at Wayne Manor. 
"Now this is much better, don't you think? You're wearing my favorite color."
You look down and see that your pajamas have been swapped for a long, blood red, chiffon nightgown. It hugs every curve and dip of your body, the sleeves and collar trimmed in soft fur. The neckline is somewhat modest, but the fabric is totally see-through past your thighs. 
It's something a queen would wear. 
"Beautiful," Dick murmurs, voice rough. "Fuck, honey. This is the sort of thing you should wear all the time."
"Change me back," you demand. "I am not a doll for you to dress up, Dick."
"No, of course you're not. This is just a taste of how you'd live if you were with me, my love."
"I will never live with you. I'd rather die."
Dick hums, then draws closer. You back up until your legs hit the edge of the bed. He prowls further, eyes sharp like he's hunting prey. Your pulse quickens and you have to remind yourself that this is just a dream. 
"What happened to us?" he asks softly. "I know that, at one point, you loved me."
"Yeah, that was before you turned into a monster. I loved a man." 
"I'm no more monster than any of the men you've known," Dick says. 
You scoff. "God, where'd you get that one? Jason?"
Dick smiles, and it almost looks human. "No, that was a Grayson original. And it's true. Man has never been good. You don't like me because now I drink a little blood?"
"I don't like you because you used to be good, and now you're not."
He hums. "I'm not all bad, my love. I can be subdued, tamed. You want me to be tame? I can be good for you. I can give you anything your heart desires. Our wants are the same.”
Dick eases you backwards onto the bed. You shouldn’t let him. Shouldn’t like the cold press of undead flesh against your heat. Shouldn’t like how he holds you, how convincing he sounds. You know your wants aren’t the same, that Dick is playing you, and you’re being easy.
But… but it's not like you'll ever see him for real again. No one will know. 
And God, it's been so long since anyone touched you. You pined for this, what seems like forever ago. Dick Grayson wanting you had felt impossible, until it wasn't… but by then, he'd become the very thing you'd sworn to hate. 
"This–” You swallow. “This isn’t right.” 
But your legs part for him to kneel between. 
"Tell me to stop and I will. I serve you first."
Dick hovers over you, hands planted on either side of your head. You're getting wet. You ache in more ways than one. 
"This is cruel," you whine.
"I don’t mean to be cruel,” he says gently. “Do you want me to stop, my love? My beautiful queen, who hasn’t been touched in so long. You’ve needed me, haven’t you?”
“Not–not your queen,” you say, panting, but you let him in, let him settle above you. 
“If you say so, my love," he says, nuzzling your neck. You tense even though he can't actually bite you. 
His fingers thread with yours. The position is unbearably intimate. You’d forgotten how romantic Dick was. How loving. Briefly, you wonder if he kept that through the shift.
It’s impossible, you insist as he kisses your jaw.
"You're a dream in red," he purrs. "I might prefer it to you in blue, but it's a close call."
"Your ego is ridiculous," you say, and Dick unlinks one hand to pet the apex of your thighs with two fingers. You're still clothed, and you're still dreaming, but the heat and pressure and slick feel so real. 
"The sounds you're making certainly don’t keep my ego in check," Dick says with a proud grin, fangs on display. 
Then he rips your underwear off, ducks between your legs, and licks you until you cry. 
You arch off the bed, and even in the dream, his strength is easy, one hand keeping you pressed to the bed. Dick pushes one of your legs up to get a deeper angle, moaning into your cunt. Your leg goes up easily even though in real life, it would pinch. You’re not as flexible as he is.
"Dickie," you cry, tears slipping down your cheeks because it's so good, it feels real, you wish this was real, wish you had him back. 
He nips your thighs, groans into your sex. Dick ruts the mattress, the first loss of control he's shown. It makes you wetter, knowing that he's so gone for you. It's sick to like such a thing, but you never stopped loving him, not really. You can't seem to reckon the man from the monster. 
You come hard on his tongue, and he keeps licking until you push him away. 
"You haven't been touched in ages, I bet," he says, lips shiny with your arousal. His eyes are a brighter red. His chest heaves. He looks hungrier than before he started.
"Been a bit busy,” you say when your brain comes back online. “End of humanity and all that."
His eyes go soft. You hate that he can still make that look. 
"Why are you so stubborn? Why won't you let me take care of you? You belong at my side."
You scowl. "I don't belong anywhere, Dick. Certainly nowhere near you."
His eyes glitter and he grabs you by your hips and kisses you. You let him, because you're absolutely pathetic and because you haven't been touched in ages.
Dick laughs against your mouth and peppers kisses on your throat before pulling away. 
"I'll send your team food. They won't even know it's me," he says, half-lidded. "My beloved queen. You'll never starve. I didn't know it was so bad."
"I am not your queen and I don't need your charity. In fact, you know what? I'm waking up. Right now."
Dick smiles, and kisses your hand. Then he gets off of the bed, and fixes his collar. He must be aching in his slacks, dream or not, but he straightens up like he has all the time in the world to fuck you. Like he knows you’ll be back.
"Of course, my love. Whatever you want. Till next time."
The dream fades from a golden bedroom to your dark, tiny hole of a room you've camped in for a few months. 
You turn your head and look at the clock. It's still late. 
Your thighs ache. Your mouth tingles where he kissed you. 
You swore to never pledge yourself to the Vampire King. But you never made any such promises about Dick Grayson.
634 notes · View notes
Text
This was absolutely precious
Sleeping Robin
Since his arrival at Wayne Manor, it had been remarkably difficult for Damian to feel comfortable expressing his feelings, especially when it came to something so menial as affection. Dick had been the first to wear him down, constantly encouraging hugs and sharing his feelings, but it had taken time.
As emotionally volatile as the whole family was, they knew pushing for results would only scare the boy off. It had taken months for Damian to stop standing rigidly still whenever Dick did hug him and allow himself to hold him back.
So, when Robin was visiting the Watchtower for his third time and had fallen asleep on Batman’s lap, it was understandable to say Bruce was surprised.
He’d been showing his son the security systems and, with no other chair available, had lifted Damian to sit on his knee at a distance from the rest of him, just in case Damian was uncomfortable.
However, perhaps from a weeks’ worth of restless nights or the deep timbre of Batman’s voice as he spoke, Damian had scooted closer to curl up on Bruce's chest and rested his head right over his father’s heartbeat. In less than a minute, his eyes were shut and he was fast asleep.
Bruce hadn’t noticed at first, continuing to explain the setup, and only realised his youngest was snoozing when Damian snuggled closer. He hesitantly removed his hand from the computers keyboard and brushed back his son’s hair, fondly smiling down at his sleeping face.
In moments like this, the boys constant tension faded and his expression was free from scowls and harsh lines. Like this, Bruce could pretend he'd never been exposed to the League, that the scars on his back were a false memory, and his son was okay.
Bruce shifted in his seat a little, bringing his cape up to tuck around Damian and decided to continue the rest of his camera-duty in silence.
135 notes · View notes
Note
How about nightwing and Wayne reader just had a baby and Bruce and Damien go to meet them for the first the first time ? thank you!
A/N: aaahhh so adorable!
Tumblr media
 ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿   ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿
“She definitely has your eyes babe” you said gentle touching the face of your newborn daughter. She looked up at you with her bright blue eyes, just like her father. She had his eyes, and hair, honestly she was his copy.
“Yea but that smile is completely yours. Beautiful just like her mother” he said touching her cheek trying to get a smirk from the babe. It worked caused a gum filled grin to spread across her face “see! Look at that! Ugh, you did an amazing job love” he compliments you
“You know it was both of us” you try and give him credit
“Hey hey, you carried her and basically made her. It was a 10-90 job. Either way, you just keeping bringing blessings into my life” he kissed the top of your head. “First you and now her. Life just cousins get any better”
“Im Just so happy she’s finally here” you sigh as you snuggle into Dick’s side
Well here you were. Baby girl in your arms with your fiancé at your side. Your fiancé who so happens to be a super hero and the former sidekick of Batman himself. You also so happened to be Batman’s daughter.
Now this didn’t happen in the best way. You were dating for about 3 1/2 years by now. You even shared an apartment together. However the dreaded late period was no where in sight. One positive test and a sobbing Dick was more than enough proof. The problem was telling your father. Hs was very strict on finding the right one, marrying and being stable in every way before being a child I got he world.
Even though this was a two person matter, Dick wanted to tell him and take full responsibility and heat for it. Bruce was in fact not very happy with the circumstances, but Dick Grayson.
His side kick, friend, his son, his family. Someone he knew you could rely on, be safe with, and know that you were in good hands. So the day you both told him he responded with:
“Y/N, this is another life you’re both bringing into this world. You’re both fully aware of your actions and what has to be done now. I won’t force you into keeping it, the choice is yours. However, keeping this life means they are now the center of everything. Are you truly ready for that? The tears, the sick days, school, happy moments, angry moments? All of it?” He asks seriously yet cautiously
“Every moment Bruce. And she won’t be alone. I swear to you I love them both so much, I just want to give them whatever it is to keep them safe and happy” dick said confidently.
With that said Bruce stood up and congratulated you both. He brought you into a tight but gentle hug. Of course he’d also be there every moment, he just couldn’t believe it. About a month or so later dick had asked you to marry him. He would have asked with or without the pregnancy. But he wanted to show you that he was here 100000%.
*knock knock*
Looking up from your arms you see Bruce pop his head in.
“Dad! Come in! You’re just in time she’s awake!” You beam as your father opens to the door to make room for the flower he had brought for you. Behind him were Alfred and Damian. He set the flowers down and kissed your head. He looked down at the baby in your arms
“She beautiful you two. She looks a lot like Dick” he said smiling down at the newborn
“Dad, this is Martha” you say carefully handing the bundle. He cradled her in his arms and thats when he caught on
“Martha? Y/N…you didnt-“
“We did Bruce. You’ve done so much and you know how much you mean to us so we honored her with your mothers name” Dick explains wrapping his arm around your shoulder. Sitting down in a chair and observed the baby. She now carried something on his mother and he couldn’t hold back the tears.
Bruce Wayne was a very tough man. Brought to tears by a baby who was yet to even speak. You knew he’d be an amazing grandfather. After some more chatter Alfred also took a turn to hold Martha.
“She does have something about her that remind me of Martha sir. However, her Beaty seems to come from you Miss Y/N.” He comments. Martha definitely liked Alfred, she looked at him and broke into a big gummy smile.
You had then noticed Damian who was in the far corner looking out of the window
“Damian, do you want to hold her?” Dick asked picking her up from Alfred
“Why would I want to hold something that has your DNA?” He asked crossing his arms
“Because shes also your niece” he answered “and once you hold her, you won’t need anymore answers” he rolled his eyes and opened his arms for the small package
“Support her head” dick reminded him. With a scowl he looked down at his niece and raised a brow. Martha simple yawned and stretched her small limbs out of the blanket. A small tiny sigh leaving her mouth. Damian felt strange….he felt protective ? It was weird. He could feel his face gearing up even in the cool hospital air.
He walks over to you and hands her over. He gave you a quick hug and said
“Shes cute. Congrats” and stuffed his hands into his pockets and made his way outside the door.
“Well, it looks like Martha is winning everyone Hearst today” he said kissing her head. This time you both shared a yawn signaling for Dick to go into dad and husband mode.
“Alright we’ll i think it’s time for both of my girls to get their naps of the day in” he said picking up Martha and placing her in the bassinet “thank you guys again for stopping by”
“Of course, we’ll be in touch. If you need an escort home just let me know” Bruce said saying his goodbyes to you both
“We will dad” you wave with heavy eyelids “and tell Damian he can come by our place later to see her again”
“Will do”
“Alright sexy mama, It’s time for you to get some rest” dick said helping you adjust to the hospital bed for well deserved rest
“Thank you dick, you’re so diligent without me even saying anything” you yawn again as you’re tucked under the blankets
“Well you’re my wife and the mother of my beautiful baby. What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t treat you like a queen?” He asked kissing your head “no more questions. Shut those pretty eyes of yours and get some rest. I’ll watch our little princess”
No more Words were needed as you fell asleep. Dick took his seat near the bassinet and watched as both of your form rose and fell in your peaceful slumber. He just couldn’t stop smiling. The perfect woman and the perfect daughter. He may be a hero, but before that he is Dick Grayson. Husband and father.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
~Kitty 🐈‍⬛
558 notes · View notes
Text
Oh Jay 😢
in your hands | jason todd
Tumblr media
Summary: Jason thinks he's too big to be loved. You show him that that's impossible.
Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader 
Word count: 1.1k
Warnings/tags: bathing together, sad jason, brief dissociation, i hc jason to have body dysmorphia and i wanted to explore that, non sexual nudity, washing your partner, bruce angst, hopeful ending.
A/N: as always, if you like this fic, tell me through comments and reblogs :)
the divider
Tumblr media
Tonight, Jason comes home far away.
You clock it as soon as he walks in. He’s moving on autopilot: boots by the door, helmet on the shelf, gear in the closet. He washes his hands, hangs up his jacket, and then he stands at the doorway. And waits. 
You’re never quite sure what he’s waiting for. But you know that he’ll stay stuck in his head if you don’t step in. 
“Hey, baby,” you say, cupping his cheeks. “Hey. You wanna eat or clean up first?”
The change is instant. As soon as you touch him, Jason is there. You’ve never mentioned it to him. It frightens you too much to explore, knowing that you’re his tether. You don’t want to think about what that means, having the power to anchor a man who used to be dead.
He looks at you, meets your gaze head-on.
“Did I disappear?” he whispers.
“Little bit. It’s okay.”
You keep stroking his cheeks, avoiding his shaving cuts and the freshly split lip. There’s a bruise around his eye and on his temple. 
“Wanna wash up,” he finally says, but his hands cling to your waist. 
You pet the back of his neck. “Want me to go with you?” 
“Please?” He glances at the kitchen. “But if you’re in the middle ‘f something, then—”
“No, Jay. C’mon.”
You take him by the hand and lead him to the bathroom. Jason undresses while you draw a bath. Soon the bathroom starts to fog up with steam. You pour in some Epsom salts for his muscle aches—you know he should soak more than he does. 
You turn off the faucet. Jason is in his boxers, staring at himself in the mirror. He picks at his autopsy scar, presses the puckered white flesh until it turns red. 
“Jay,” you say gently. “C’mere, honey.”
His hands drop to his sides. Jason goes to the bath, pulls off his underwear, and sinks into the water. It’s a generously-sized tub. Jason had gotten his old tub replaced for a larger one after you’d mentioned that you liked baths. Soon enough, you’d introduced him to the wonders of hot baths for his sore muscles. 
Even with its size, Jason still has to bend his knees slightly to fit. He pushes himself up easily. A little water sloshes over and dampens the edge of your shirt. Jason curses.
“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head. 
“It’s okay, honey. You want me to come in?”
He nods. You pull off your shirt, then your pants and underwear. Jason folds in on himself to make room, but you stop him.
“I’ll just sit between your legs, Jay. No problem.”
You step into the bath. Jason holds your wrist so you can sit down without slipping. He stares at his hand on your arm after you’ve sat. 
You reach over for a washcloth and pour a lightly-scented soap. You lather it up first, then rub it over his shoulders, his chest, his stomach. Jason is perfectly still. 
“Can you lean over, baby? So I can get your back.”
Jason obediently leans over. You smile at him as he holds himself up with his core. You know Jason’s not just strong, that he’s agile too. He’s very good at wielding his body.
You wash his back. This close, you can see the contours of his muscles, how broad he is. 
When you’re done, you wring the soap out of the cloth and cup water in your palms to rinse the suds off of his skin. You catch his gaze in the mirror across the tub. Jason turns his head.
“God, look at me. How are you not afraid every time I come stompin’ around?”
You stop pouring water and rest your hands on Jason’s biceps. “What do you mean?”
He scoffs. “I’m like a huge, fuckin’... monster. Too big, too loud. I’m—” He swallows, bows his head. “How can you look at me?”
“Jay, honey. You’re not a monster.”
“Bruce thinks so,” he whispers, and straightens. “He can barely look at me. Every time he does, ‘s like he doesn’t even recognize me.”
His hand quietly swishes through the water to claw at his autopsy scar. 
“This is all I am. Just violence. ‘M too big for anything else.”
You squeeze your eyes shut and pull his head into your chest. Jason hugs you back. His shoulders begin to shake. 
“You’re more than your body,” you say. “You’re more than what the Pit made you. What you were.”
He shakes and cries into your neck. “I was small. People loved me when I was small.”
You pick up his head. Jason’s eyes are thick with tears. You lean in and kiss his Cupid’s bow.
“I love you.” You brush away his tears with your lips. “I love you so much, Jay. That’ll never change.”
“Too big for it,” he rasps.
You shake your head. “No, Jaybird. You’re never too big to be loved.”
“I’m s-scary.”
You kiss his temple, rub between his shoulder blades. Jason clings tighter.
“You don’t scare me. You never have.”
He pulls you closer, so you’re chest-to-chest. You straddle his stomach with your legs and hug Jason as tightly as you can. 
“I was good when I was small,” he says. “I don’t–I don’t know how to be good anymore. I wanna be good, I do. I don’t want Bruce to think I’m bad. I’m still good.”
You take a deep, shuddering breath. “Oh, Jay. Baby. You are good. You came back to make a change. You’ve always been good. You’ve got a good heart. Nothing’s going to change that. Bruce is stubborn and stuck in his head. But you’ll always be his son. And you’ll always have people who love you.”
“What if I’m not worth it?” he whispers. “What if I’m too lost?”
“Then I’ll go out and find you. And we’ll come home together,” you say. “You’ll always find your way back home.”
He smells like soap and Epsom salts. You kiss his autopsy scar. Jason shakes more. 
“Let me wash your hair, baby,” you say.
He nods, tears on his lashes. You wet his hair and pour shampoo. You rest your lips on his cheek as you lather the shampoo, detangling tiny knots with your fingers. Jason bends at the waist so you can rinse off the soap with the faucet.
You tap his hip and Jason sits up. He slips his arms around you again and tucks his chin into your neck.
“Don’t let go,” he says, suddenly desperate. “Don’t–don’t let me go.”
“I won’t, Jay. I’m right here.”
1K notes · View notes
Note
for the dc prompts you reblogged:
can i request jason todd x reader "someone likes being pinned down" + A flirting with B while sparring to throw them off their tracks
where reader is also a vigilante??
thank you so much 🩷
very sexy prompts thank u 😌
jason todd x gn!reader. r and robin!jay were friends, r doesn't know jason is alive/red hood but jason knows r is a vigilante. r's alias is 'nocturne' (if that's already in use oh well lmao). fighting/sparring, jason is mega in love with you as usual!!
all fics at @sanguinelibrary
****
"Still blindly following the Bat, huh?"
You land in a crouch on the rooftop, just like how Nightwing taught you. The Red Hood doesn't look at you, digging through two duffel bags. He doesn't even draw his gun, like you've seen him do with virtually every other vigilante in Gotham.
You wait, ready to spring into action. But Hood doesn't stop what he's doing. Slowly, you rise.
"What... do you mean?" you ask.
"I mean, why are you traipsing around Gotham as a bat-adjacent? Who are you s'posed to be anyway? Goth Bat? Alternative Scene Bat?"
"I'm Nocturne," you say, shoulders rising to your ears. Rude. You thought the chunky boots and star over your suit's eye mask were inspired.
Red Hood lifts a hand. "Don't get me wrong, I dig the threads. I'm just surprised B didn't have an aneurysm over the sequins. Then again, Discowing did do it first..."
Your first two meetings with the infamous Red Hood have been similar in that he's never very concerned about you stopping him (ouch), but he also isn't callous or cruel with you like he is with the other vigilantes.
Case in point: the last person who cornered Hood on a roof was Red Robin. Hood shot him in the shoulder before he could land.
In short, he's perplexing as hell.
Batman's forbidden the rest of the team to confront Hood without backup. And you're technically not supposed to be on patrol tonight. But if you can intercept Hood, that'll be a huge win.
Hood keeps on packing the duffels. You hesitate, then step forward.
"Get away from the bags," you say. "I won't ask twice."
Hood looks at you. "Nocturne's a pretty cool name, I'll admit. And I like the boots. But I still think you oughta call it quits."
He zips up the bags, stands, and kicks them to the corner of the roof.
"Because you're just that unstoppable?" you ask, hands curling into fists.
"Yeah. But mostly 'cause I know you're made for so much more than this, sweetheart."
And that is the third and perhaps most bewildering thing about your encounters with Red Hood: you've gotten the creeping feeling that he... likes you.
Which is ridiculous, and if you ever breathed a word of that to anybody, Batman would probably check you into Arkham.
You take another careful step forward. Hood leans against the railing and folds his arms.
"This the part where you apprehend and hogtie me for innocently packing a duffel bag?" he asks.
You glare. "Innocent? I know you're making a weapons delivery because I know you've been waiting for Batman to be off-planet to make it."
"Clever. Told ya you're too good for this," Hood says. "Should be in college with those smarts, not playing maid for Batman."
"Are you lecturing me?"
"I'm advising you as your friendly neighborhood drug lord. Lecturing makes me sound like a guy who's got too much money and too big of a savior complex to understand that the way he fights injustice is fundamentally flawed."
"Sounds personal."
Hood laughs. "Honey, you have no idea."
You strike.
Hood parries your first attack easily, which you expect. The truth is that whoever trained Hood cut no corners and you're still relatively new at vigilantism. It's only by the grace of God that Hood hasn't left you to bleed out on a roof.
You kick his shin, but Hood turns on the instep and blocks. You go for his shoulder, where his armor separates to give him more movement. But Hood's ready for that too, and he catches your arm.
"Gotta keep that right arm up," he says. "Surprised no one's trained that outta you yet."
You elbow Hood in the throat. He coughs and lets go.
"Like that?" you ask, muscles tense with adrenaline.
Hood makes a sound that might be a laugh, still choked from your hit. "Just like that, honeylove. Good job."
"I don't need feedback," you snap, immediately going back in for another hit.
"Sorry. I'll make this quick then. I do have a delivery."
On the next strike, you advance, using a technique Nightwing drilled into your head for bigger opponents. Hood goes down and you land atop him.
"Oh, that's a Nightwing takedown if I've ever seen one," Hood says beneath you.
You're close enough that you can hear his breathing through the decoder. Pride swells in you at taking him down. Not even Batman has managed such a thing.
Hood is warm and big. His shoulder span alone dwarfs you. When you'd seen him from afar, fighting Batman or Nightwing, you'd been terrified.
But now, perhaps stupidly, you feel comfortable. Annoyed, but safe. Something about him reminds you of home. Makes your stomach flip in a good way.
Which is terrifying.
"You're coming with me," you say, reaching for your cuffs.
"If only. Unfortunately, you've forgotten a teensy weensy detail, dearest."
Hood bucks you off, legs first. Your feet fly into the air, which allows him to flip your positions. You wince, preparing for a concussion upon impact as you go down. But Hood cushions your fall and neatly rolls you over. Your back is pressed into the concrete, hands locked over your head. Hood's weight holds down your hips and legs.
He looms over you, easily holding you down. Your face grows hot.
"How did—" You squirm in his grip. "I had you!"
"Weight distribution, sweets. Tell Al—one of the Bats to add weight to your boots. They keep you light on your feet, but you were depending on them too much to hold me down, and we ain't evenly matched there."
You thrash in his grip. "Hood, I swear to fucking—"
"Easy. Don't sweat it, sweetheart. You haven't been doing this for very long. That was a good takedown, regardless. I'm impressed."
"Screw you."
He hums. You can tell he's smiling under the helmet. "Sorry, I forgot. You don't like feedback."
Hood strokes the inside of your wrist. You aren't sure he's aware he's doing it. His grip is firm but light. He's not trying to hurt you. Your pulse is in your throat.
For a moment, you're both still. Hood seems caught in a trance, like even Superman couldn't tear him away from this moment. From you. And it's not that you're afraid, you're just... you're...
"How do you know so much about me?" you blurt, because it's puzzled the whole team. "You been spying on me?"
"'Course not. Unlike your boss, I respect privacy. No, I did research. I recognized you from when you'd hang around that second Robin. Shrimpy little guy. What'd ya even see in him?"
The grief overtakes you before you can control your mouth.
"You don't know anything about me or him," you spit. "Don't fucking talk about him. He had more skill and goodness in his pinkie than you'll have in a lifetime. And you could learn a thing from him about changing a city. He'd tell you that fear alone never works."
Hood is quiet for a long moment. Then he speaks.
"Where's your distress signal?"
"Why would I tell—"
Hood shifts over you, cutting off your reply. He pulls a ziptie around your wrists. They're not even a little tight. You could probably slip out of them if you had five minutes.
"I know you're not s'posed to be out tonight," he whispers in your ear. "'S not your patrol night. Good thing you're my favorite."
You nearly swallow your tongue. "How do you—I don't—"
"Uh-huh. So you be good from now on, yeah? Wouldn't wanna have to keep tying you up like this."
You lift your chin. "We'll switch positions soon enough."
Hood snorts. "Okay, I know you heard how that soun—"
"I heard it," you say grumpily. "Just get on with it. Jerk."
"As you wish. Distress signal?"
"Collar."
Hood presses the button under your collar. Your breath hitches as his gloved fingers graze your neck.
"Oh? Does somebody like getting pinned down?"
"In your dreams."
Hood laughs. He zipties your ankles last, then sits you upright against the railing.
"Not too tight, are they?" he asks. "I know you've got a circulation problem."
You squint. "You seem to know a lot about me. Not fair that I don't know much about you, Hood."
"'S just business, honeylove," he says, scooping up his duffel. "Now I don't wanna see you in a suit anymore, comprende?"
"Or you'll what? Shoot me?"
Hood pauses, eerily still. He turns those glowing white eyes upon you. Your heart picks up.
"No," he says, so serious it startles you. "But someone else might. And I don't want you to face the same fate as your good friend Robin."
He vaults over the railing before you can respond. Your head thunks lightly as you lean back and wonder if you're really just business to the Red Hood.
342 notes · View notes
Text
Lover
Maribat March - Prompt 21
~
Red Hood had only been in control of the Gotham drug scene for a year when she was first spotted. At first, the goon who'd seen her had thought he was hallucinating. After all, this brightly dressed woman just strutted into the Red Hood's lair like she owned the place. Bill had rushed to inform the boss that their hideout had been breached, but he was unavailable. He reluctantly retreated back to his post, anxiously awaiting the alarm. But it never came.
Bill told the other henchman, but none of them believed him. Surely, the intruder would've been caught.
He didn't dare try to tell the boss himself.
Then it happened again, though this time, she stopped to talk. She handed out cookies and told them to tuck in their shirts! The goons couldn't believe it. As soon as she came, the strange pixie left, the people she left behind stunned. Rumors started spreading about the nice woman who licked her thumb to wipe the gunk off of one of their faces.
Everyone believed Bill after that.
Red Hood had an important meeting with other crime bosses, and all the henchmen were in a state of panic, trying to make sure everything would run smoothly. The boss always got grumpy when these meetings came around, and a grumpy Red Hood was a scary Red Hood.
A resounding crash echoed through the warehouse, silence blanketing them all. Red Hood slowly turned the blank white gaze of his helmet toward the source, a poor Bill standing next to a toppled crate of the weaponry shipment… that was supposed to go out tonight.
Red Hood's deep, robotic sigh was heard on the other end of the warehouse, making several of the newer goons require new underpants.
"Oh no, what happened here?"
And just like that, they were saved. There she was, in all her five-foot-two glory, their guardian pixie frowning at the mess. Red Hood sharply inhaled, turning to face the woman. "Marinette?"
For the first time, Red Hood took off his helmet, revealing a baby-ish face, a domino mask, and black hair with a shock of white. Wait, he knew this woman?
Marinette smiled, striding towards him from the doorway she was standing in. "Hey, mon chere."
Mon chere?!
Red Hood cleared his throat nervously, blush rising to his cheeks. "W-What are you doing here?"
Marinette reached into her oversized purse and pulled out a handgun. "You forgot this." She said sweetly, passing it to him. Bill wasn't thinking all that clearly and spoke up over the silence. "You know her, boss?"
"Wha-? Of course I do- wait, do you?!" Red Hood turned toward Marinette, receiving a sheepish smile in return. "Well," She started, hands clasped behind her back. "You're not always available when I come to see you, and I happened to have some leftover cookies from movie night, so I passed them out!" She smiled up at Red Hood innocently, her glasses glinting in the harsh warehouse light. He turned back to her, crossing his arms, and no one would believe Bill when he told the story later, but Red Hood honest-to-God pouted at this small woman. "C'mon, Mari! I've got a rep to maintain here! Doing your whole routine is gonna mess it up!"
Marinette laughed, brushing her short hair behind her ear and wrapping her arms around his waist. "Oh, don't be like that. You're plenty scary, even with my leftovers. Besides, they won't say anything, right?" She turned her gaze to the rest of the warehouse, and all of a sudden her light, bubbly demeanor took on a hard edge. All the henchmen quickly voiced their agreements, eager to leave the strange alternate universe they'd entered, where Red Hood was the least scary thing in the room.
Just like that, her sunny smile was back, relieving the goons. "See? No problem! I'll see you at home!" Marinette breezed out of the warehouse, and Red Hood put his helmet back on, and they were back in reality. "Well?" His modified voice barked out, "we've got shit to do. Get moving!"
Bill was never going to look at Red Hood the same again. Not knowing he had that wonderfully terrifying woman as a lover.
Also, was it just him or did Red Hood seem awfully young?
15 notes · View notes
Note
Hii so for the requests if this is too dark please just ignore 💜 how about jason x reader with "[ BACKUP ]   sender calls receiver panicking after committing a crime" where maybe reader gets assaulted and in self-defense kills the criminal and is panicking and calling jason because she knows he can help her and is the only one who won't judge her. Thank you for considering 💖
hey anon! i really liked this prompt, not to worry. it reminded me of that scene in the punisher when amy shoots the guy, but frank "kills" him, so i ended up incorporating that here 😅 thanks for requesting!
i also combined this with another request i got for the prompt "hide. hide now." with jason bc i felt they went well together :)
jason todd x gn!reader | tw: gun violence. reader shoots a man whose intention is to harm them. panic attack, blood. you are in charge of the media you consume! | 843 words
prompt lists are here! i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary
****
You don't know how you get back to your apartment. All you can hear is your pounding heartbeat and the footsteps of one of Two Face's men.
You shouldn't have been out this late. You shouldn't have been out alone. So many shouldn'ts run through your mind.
"Run all you want! I know where you live now, snitch! You ain't making it out tonight!"
You take the stairs two at a time, tripping over your feet. Sweat pours down your face. Your chest is tight with fear.
"Yoo-hoo," the goon sing-songs. "Where are ya, birdie?"
You unlock your phone and duck into the laundry room. Quickly, you pull out your phone and tap on your first contact.
"Todd."
"Jason," you whisper. The phone shakes in your grip.
"What's wrong?" he asks, instantly on alert.
"There's a—I was—I'm at home. I-I didn't know where else to go. Two Face's guy saw me, he chased me—"
"I'm on my way. Are you inside?"
"In... in the laundry room... Jay, I'm so scared."
"I know, I know, it's okay. I'll be there in two minutes. Go to your apartment and lock it. There's a gun taped behind the pantry cabinet. Don't hang up."
"I don't remember buying a—"
"I put it there. Go."
You don't even have the thought to be mad; Jason has always been protective of you, and right now, it might be the only thing that'll keep you alive.
"You there?" he asks as you stumble on your feet to your apartment.
"Al-almost—"
"I know you're up here, snitch!" the goon shouts from two floors below.
You gasp and nearly break your key in the lock. But you manage to get it open and lock it behind you, just how Jason ingrained in you to do. You find the gun exactly where he said it is.
"Okay. I have it. Jason, I've never—"
"I know. Listen to me—shit—okay, you see the safety? You remember what I taught you about taking the safety off?"
"Yeah, y-yeah." You take the safety off. The gun is heavy, way heavier than you remember it being when Jason had shown you how to fire it in a field outside of town.
"Alright. Now take the gun and hide. Hide now."
"Where? Jason, he's coming—" You're crying now, face slick with sweat and tears.
"Listen to me. I'm three blocks away. I will be there, okay? I won't let him do shit to you. Go to the bathroom and lock it. Be careful with the gun. Finger off the trigger."
You walk on jellied legs, half-stumbling to the bathroom. You do what he says and press yourself against the tub, gun under your palm. Your phone is on your other side.
"You still there?" he asks. "Talk to me, sweetheart."
"I'm here. I think he's—"
You flinch hard as your apartment door splinters. You cover your mouth to hide your cries. The light is off, but you doubt this is the first time this guy's hunted someone in their apartment.
You hear the squeal of tires through the phone. Jason's close; he'll be here soon, he'll—
The bathroom door tears from its hinges. The doorknob makes a hole in the wall.
You don't think.
The shot is louder than you expect, and your ears ring from the sound. Blood splatters on your bathroom tiles. The goon hits the floor with a shout.
"Oh my God, oh my God," you babble, still squished against the tub.
"You bitch!" the goon shouts, blood bubbling from his mouth.
Jason runs in then. He quickly kicks the goon's gun away and steps on his chest when the goon tries to get up. Jason cocks his gun in warning.
"Stay down, shithead," he snarls.
"I killed him," you say, tears flooding your eyes. "I didn't mean to—I didn't—"
Jason kneels in front of you and gently takes the gun from you. You look at him, stomach rolling.
"I killed him," you say again, cringing as the goon yells in pain.
Jason shakes his head. "No. Hey, you didn't kill him. You defended yourself. You just shot him, okay? See, look—"
He fires a single bullet without looking. The goon is instantly silent. You wince.
"Okay? You didn't kill him. I killed him. Me. Not you."
You whimper, face falling into Jason's chest. He holds you tightly.
"I was so scared, but I didn't want to—I thought he was gonna—"
"Shh, shh. You didn't do anything wrong. Okay? I got you. You did good. You defended yourself. It was you or him and you made the right choice."
"Don't leave," you cry, clinging to Jason's tactical vest.
He squeezes you tighter, shielding you from the body.
"I'm not going anywhere. I got you, sweetheart. Don't worry. Nothing's gonna happen to you."
You sit like that for a long time, Jason whispering gentle reassurances in your ear as you cry into his chest.
"I promise you'll never be in this situation again," he whispers when your cries have become sniffles. "I swear."
793 notes · View notes
Note
hiii! can i request reader being a vigilante and also jason’s ex? they’re on the same mission/have to work together and reader gets injured or smn?
thank you so much! I love your writing!
thanks for requesting! this turned into a whole ass one shot 😭 hope you like ❤️
jason todd x gn!reader. tw: fighting, exes, physical violence, reader is captured but they're fine, jason is NOT over you (and he doesn't want to be), making up, fluffy ending. 2k words (lol)
****
The Cave is exactly how you remember. Foolishly, you thought maybe it would've rotted after you broke up with Jason.
That's certainly how you felt.
But no. It's the same, and the other Bats are the same. Dick and Tim are there, probably because you're the most familiar with them... after your ex, of course... and Barbara already pushed the envelope by contacting you.
Still, Gotham is your city too. And if the Bats need an extra set of hands to protect the city, then so be it.
"Hey, glad you could make it," Dick says warmly.
At times, you envy how easygoing he can be. Even though he can have a temper, Dick Grayson, for the most part, shakes hands like a politician. He doesn't burn bridges. He doesn't hold grudges, at least not publicly.
You, on the other hand, are perhaps too much like his younger brother: you absolutely hold grudges, and you don't let go easily.
"Hi, guys," you say, trying to be civil. "What's up?"
"So—"
The roar of a motorcycle pulling into the Cave cuts Tim off. Quick anger soars through you as Red Hood dismounts the bike. He takes off his helmet.
You haven't seen Jason in a year. Judging by his physique, the breakup did not take a toll on him. If anything, he seems bigger than you remember. Asshole.
You can pinpoint the moment that he finally sees you, and he stops in his tracks.
"Oh, boy," you hear Tim mumble.
Jason is silent. You cross your arms, keeping your face neutral.
"I didn't know you worked with the Bats, Hood. Thought you flew solo."
Jason is quiet for another moment. Then he speaks.
"Things change."
"Clearly."
"Anyway!" Dick says, clapping his hands. "Pretty straightforward mission. Drugs, warehouse, bad guys, et cetera. We have to clear out these shipments tomorrow night, or they'll hit the streets, and we'll be too late. Robin and I will take Gotham Heights. Signal, Black Bat, and Red Robin will take downtown. And, um, you two can clear out the Bowery."
"Hood can handle the Bowery himself," you say. "Gimme another section."
Jason scoffs. You glance at him.
"Something funny?" you ask, teeth grit.
"Once again, you're biting off more than you can chew," he says, hands on his waist. "It's stupid and you're gonna get yourself into trouble. Just clear out the Bowery with me. Plenty of room for both of us."
"I don't know if you know this, but I actually do pretty okay on my own. Just because you're one of Batman's special little prodigies doesn't mean the rest of us can't get by."
You glance at the others. "No offense."
"None taken," Tim says. "You're far better adjusted than us, no contest."
Jason rolls his eyes. "C'mon. You don't have anything to prove to us. We know you're capable, but these guys are rough. We team up for safety."
"Oh, now you care about being a part of a team?" you snap. "You didn't give a shit when it was me asking—no, begging you and Roy to help me with the League mission in Sydney."
Jason's jaw tenses. "That was different."
"Guys, I think we should—"
"Why? Because you only get your hands dirty locally?" you ask, shaking with anger.
"Because if I had gotten involved, it would've put a target on your back," Jason says icily. "You would've been killed. You were nowhere near ready to take on the League. I wouldn't have been able to protect you and fight them."
"You know, right there, you sounded just like Bruce. Did you take tips from him?"
Silence. Jason's boiling with anger, you can tell.
"Bruce wouldn't have had the sense to stop you from going," he finally says, tone even. "He's not too good at that."
"Bruce would've cared enough to back me up. And he wouldn't have driven a wedge between me and my team."
It's just words; there's no way to know whether Batman would've actually backed you up. Probably not, considering his history. But it hurts Jason, and you take the moment to whirl around to look at Dick and Tim, who are wildly uncomfortable. Dick looks sad.
"It's better to team up," Dick says gently.
You bristle. "Whatever. I'll see you tomorrow."
You stalk out of the Cave.
Stupid fucking exes. Stupid fucking vigilantes.
****
"Okay, just to make things clear..."
"In and out. Report at the Cave," you say, tightening your equipment. "I got it, Nightwing. Over and out."
You silence your comm before he can respond. You're tired of their voices.
Thankfully, Jason has taken the hint and is on the opposite end of the Bowery. Which means you can slip away in peace.
You did this as a favor for Barbara, but now you're seriously rethinking getting reinvolved with the Bats. It never ends well.
The warehouses on the East End of Old Gotham are no problem. You clear out five within an hour. You check the comm briefly. It's pretty much silent, so you turn it off and keep going.
The West End, however, is a little harder.
Because you're only one person, someone figures out your pattern. You're clobbered over the head before you can drop in through the roof.
This is the last time you do a favor for anybody in Gotham.
****
You wake up tied to a chair. Your head pounds, and your lip is bloody. Not good.
"—way the Bat will show. They're a nobody vigilante."
"Tony, you're a fuckin' idiot if you think Batman doesn't know exactly what the fuck goes on in this city. Swear to God, I shoulda left you with Mom in Boise. Nothing but cotton in your head."
"Oh, fuck off, Al, you'd still be droolin' on your couch crying over Marie if I hadn't come back to Jersey."
"You little—"
"Very sorry to interrupt this family spat," you say. "But I'm on a tight schedule here, so if you could just speed things up..."
"Smartass, huh?" Al asks, waving a gun. "I wouldn't be so bold tied to a chair, toots."
"Toots? Are you a hundred years old?"
Tony snickers. Al glares at him and stalks over to you. He doesn't hesitate before whacking you upside the head with his gun. Your ears ring, and you hunch forward.
"Watch your mouth," he growls, and you're in too much pain to come up with a response to that.
Presently, you realize that your earbud is out of your ear. Probably destroyed. You have no other way of sending a distress signal. By the time you miss the report at the Cave, it'll be too late.
You were a failure then, and you're a failure now. Even your ex-boyfriend took pity on you.
Jason. God, look at how you'd left things. How his face had fallen when you'd called him Bruce. He used to love Bruce, and you know exactly what happened that changed that. And you used it against him.
Now you're facing the consequences. This is your own damn fault.
"Load everything into the truck," Al says into a walkie. "Then move out. Tell the others the same."
There's a crackled reply. Then shouting. Then silence.
You look up in surprise. Al curses and points at you.
"Stay here and watch them," he orders Tony.
"But Al, what if Batman comes here?"
"That's what guns are for, you freakin' idiot!"
You snort. As if guns could stop any of them, much less Batman.
But whatever. These guys probably didn't go into selling drugs because of their big IQs.
Tony and five other men stay to guard you. You work on trying to slip out of the handcuffs and rope.
Bang!
The first gunshot hits one goon in the leg. A second gets hit in the shoulder. Hip. Foot. Opposite leg.
Red Hood steps out of the shadows, then. Tony immediately looks sick.
"H-Hood? This ain't your territory, what're you—"
"You've got something of mine, Lewis," Jason says, voice smooth and dangerous.
Tony decides that, fuck his brother, he's getting out of here alive, and runs. Jason doesn't pay him any mind, instead walking to you.
He cuts the ropes first, then picks the handcuffs. Jason roughly rubs your wrists and ankles, pushing blood back into your extremities.
"What're you doing?" you ask. "Go get him. He's meeting his brother downtown."
You can't see Jason's expression through the helmet, but if looks could kill...
"Hood—"
"What. The hell. Is wrong with you."
You scowl. "I didn't come here for a fucking lecture."
"Well, you're gonna get one. This wasn't the plan. And you turned off your comm? Are you trying to get yourself killed? You have a death wish or something?"
"It didn't make sense to put both of us in the Bowery—"
"You could've died tonight!" Jason yells.
"And wouldn't you have liked that!" you snap back. "Proves the fact that I'm a failure quite nicely."
Jason tears off his helmet. His eyes are wide with anger and... guilt. Helplessness.
He's afraid.
"Don't you fucking say that," he says lowly. "I'd rather die again than find your body."
"What the fuck do you care?" you snarl. "I'm not your responsibility, remember? What does it matter if I dropped off the face of the earth?"
"Because I still love you!"
All of your anger drains.
Your body buzzes like it wants to feel him again. Traitor.
"That would kill me," Jason finishes quietly. "And I wouldn't come back from that death."
Your mouth feels like you swallowed chalk. And bees.
"You love me?" you whisper.
"You're hard to get over," he says. "Still haven't managed it."
"But... you said our breakup was for the best."
Jason sighs. His anger fades. "It was. I was a jackass. I let my shit with Bruce and the Pit and everything get in the way of what was important. Which is you."
"You were good to me, Jay," you say. "And we were okay. Till... till Sydney."
Jason winces. "I should've handled it better. And I should've treated you better."
"You're a good man, Jason. I don't regret my relationship with you. I regret it ending."
He looks at you. His face is twisted in pain.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you," he says. "And you're not a failure. Not even close."
You scoff, your eyes wet. "Aren't I? Couldn't even handle a simple drug bust."
"No, you're not. Nothing about what we do is simple, even if we're gaslit into thinking so. In this life, you need someone to watch your back. Even B doesn't work alone."
You try to stand, suddenly feeling like a raw nerve. You stand up too fast, though, and blood rushes to your head. You might also be mildly concussed.
Jason immediately slips an arm around your waist as you teeter forward and puts you upright.
"Easy, sweetheart," he says, and doesn't let go until you're steady.
You raise a brow. Jason grimaces.
"Sorry. Force a' habit."
You scoff, suddenly shy. "Habit, huh? Still think of me as your sweetheart?"
"Never stopped."
You roll your eyes, but it's fond now. "Anybody ever tell you you don't know how to move on?"
"Mm. I've heard it once or twice."
Your lips tingle. You've missed kissing him.
"I'm sorry I compared you to Bruce," you say. "You're nothing like him."
Jason shrugs. "Some of me is exactly like him. The fact that I didn't put a bullet in anybody's brain even though they kidnapped you isn't me at all. But I forgive you. And I'm sorry I hurt you. I didn't know the Sydney mission had festered so much."
"It's okay, Jay. You're right, I wasn't ready to take down the League or kill anybody. I'm grateful you stopped me."
Jason takes a careful step forward, eyes darting to your lips. You smirk.
"Hot for communication, are we?" you ask.
"Oh," he says, suddenly reticent. "Sorry. Too forward. Shit. I've... I've just missed you so much. I thought maybe you—that there was a vibe—but if there isn't, then—"
You take the last step and kiss him, and your lips buzz in satisfaction. Jason kisses back just as eagerly, hands flying to your waist and squeezing. But his hands roam, holding and cupping like he's been starved for the last year.
"I missed you too, Jaybird," you say between kisses.
521 notes · View notes
Text
Whiskey on the Rocks
Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, clubbing, drinking, flirting, dancing, grinding, neck kisses, suggestive
Word count: 0.9k
A/N: If Bruce met me I wouldn't ask for a drink, I would just ask for his hand to hold. Forever. Because he needs it.
Tumblr media
Just another night in the Iceberg Lounge, just another night of having to fend of drunk men swarming you like flies. Of course none did anything, there were rules in the Lounge, not many but not even God would save those who broke them. It was, if you ignored the underground criminal activities, a safe and fun place.
Let's see, what was on your to-do-list right now? Have another drink, maybe find someone do dance with, if things go well, maybe take them home, or tease them a little and leave them flustered and wanting, that was always a fun game.
"Another drink for you miss." The barman slid you a Whiskey, "From the gentleman at the far back." You took the glass before you turned to look and thank good for the vibrant dancing lights because you did not want Bruce Wayne to see how flustered you got. "I should go thank him then." You picked up the drink and the purse and pushed through the dancing bodies and the sweet smelling smoke of the dance floor towards your next catch.
Bruce sat alone, the whole booth just for him, a single glass on the table. Whiskey. He must be a fan. This was a rare sight.
"The elusive mister Bruce Wayne. What brings you to this corner of sinful heaven?" There was no intention of hiding your hungry gaze from him, the fine tailored suit, the slightly loose tie, the messy yet neat looking hair, the relaxed way in which he leaned back, arms perched on the back of the booth like he owned it. Powerful. Mysterious. Sexy. Yours by the end of the night.
"Break from my monotone nights. Not every man can be fulfilled by meetings and paperwork. Did you enjoy your drink? I noticed you finished the last one quite a while ago." He gestured to your drink while taking a sip of his.
You laughed as you took a seat next to him, your purse on your side and your legs slowly crossing over each other, giving him a deliberate view of your shapely thighs, "I haven't tried it yet. I thought it would be polite to do it in good company." With a smoldering look over the glass you took a sip, the golden-brown alcohol burning your throat, "You don't spare a single dollar when it comes to the fine things in life to you?" Bruce's eyes gave you a lookover, a little smile on the corner of his lips as he shook his head. "I was mistaken. Here I though you only knew how to spend on numbers and stock. You have good taste Mr. Wayne."
"I could say the same to you. I've seen you around miss, you have a good eye."
"A compliment from a man of such few words? You flatter me." You took another short sip before standing up and offering him a hand, "Do you dance Mr. Wayne?"
"I'm not much a dancer. Not in clubs at least." He seemed almost flustered about it. So he had this side as well. How cute of him.
"Oh don't worry, I'm sure you're a quick study, and I'm a very good teacher." After a wink his hand was in yours, a little huff passing his lips as he shuffled along behind you.
He might have said this wasn't his scene but the moment you were on the dance floor Bruce's rough hands were on your hips, his feet and body quickly adjusting to the music, swept away by it, and by the smoldering look in your eyes.
The two of you let the music guide you, stepping closer, then back, allowing your bodies to fit together like puzzles, Bruce's lips brushing against your neck in a subtle smile, his fingers flexing on your hips when ever your breath would hitch for him or you would scratch the back of his neck.
"You lied to me, you're quite the dancer." You complimented him as you guided him back to his booth. However instead of just letting him sit there you pushed him down and took a seat on his lap. Bruce seemed amused by your antics, a low chuckle breaking from his mouth as his hands pulled you closer, "Anything else you've been hiding from me?"
"They wouldn't be secrets if I gave them away that easily." Seemed obvious that one of the most famous bachelors in Gotham kept things close to his chest. "Is it alright for us to be like this in the open?" Bruce peaked behind you, causing the few eyes looking in your direction to glance away in a hurry.
"I'm not ashamed of being seen with Gotham's most wanted man." You tugged on his tie, rolled your hips in his lap and whispered in his ear, "Or maybe you're ashamed of me, Mr. Wayne?"
Bruce groaned, going in for a kiss but ended up being pushed back, your hand against his chest, your lips against his in a hard kiss, and his tie ending up loosened and in your hand, "Certainly not ashamed now." You could feel a subtle twitch of him between your legs, "Would you like to take this some place more private? I can get us a ride back to my manor." He might have not done this a lot, in public at least, but you could sense he was confidant in his touches and words.
"My, I feel honored all over again. Are you gonna show me some of your secrets if I come with you Mr. Wayne?" Judging by how hard he was he had quite a bit to show.
"Only a few." His lips were back on yours, hungry for more, promising more. Bruce might have been a mystery of a man but were you gonna have fun discovering every part of him.
255 notes · View notes
Text
I love how you can tell which version of Bruce you are reading fanfiction about without looking at the tag.
The womanizer, charming, kinda dumb man? Typical Brucie Wayne, mostly based on his playboy personality of the comics.
The serious, angsty, older Bruce? The movies from the justice league.
The one who is aware of his attraction towards man and had a relationship with Harvey? Nolan.
The sad wet paper bag of a man who resembles more a vampire than Edward ever did? Battinson.
100 notes · View notes