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herstarburststories · 4 years

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Plus One (Dick Grayson x Reader)

✾ @qualitybatauthormug requested: Could you right a story were like dick brings his date to a gala and there sitting and reader starts talking with someone and at somepoint a really pretty model with a great ass like passes by and Dick &Jason start watching and after a minute dick is like "no this is wrong" and turns away and reader gets what happened and she tells him that it's ok to look and she asks who war they looking at and they point at her and she's like "I'd tap that" and dick is like "NOOO☹😒.I have a better ass"

✾ A/N: This was on my requests for a little too long, but here it is!

✾ Warning: gif (credits on it) from Titans!Dick, but it's highly based on Comics/Animations!Dick.

You wove through the crowd of elegant people in the Wayne Manor’s large living room. There was a polite smile on your lips as you greated some people and quickly engaged into mindless conversations with strangers.

Dick was marveled at how easy it was for you to be in this world of his that was so much different from the superhero one. Of course, he was aware that you absolutely loved parties, but the way you just walked in and grabbed everyone’s attention made you look like you had been raised for charity balls and boring events meant for people who wanted to raise their status quo.

‘’Hey, dickhead,’’ Jason called, causing Dick to lose his attention on you and arch his eyebrows at his brother. ‘’19 hours, green dress, near to the bar.’’

Without sparing much of a thought, Dick simply glanced at Jason’s given coordinates. He recognized that woman, Sofia, as a foreign model that had been gaining popularity lately. The blue-eyed boy had seen her a couple times before, also in Bruce’s obligatory galas. She was really gorgeous, and that dress shaped her body in a way that could make desire grow in any person. If he was single, he’d completely give it a try.

‘’Hot, right?’’ Jason smirked, nibbling his lower lip as he shamelessly watched her. Dick shook his head, slightly nudging him.

‘’Be a little more respectful, Jaybird.’’

Todd just rolled his eyes, silent for a few seconds before speaking, ‘’I think I’ll go there. Not all of us have a hot ass smoking girlfriend waiting for us, am I right?’’

Jason’s tone was playful. Dick knew there was no harm, but his face scrunched up for a whole new reason.

He was really living up for his name. Checking out an attractive woman while his girlfriend was doing her best to fit in his world. He turned away, ashamed for himself. How could he do that to (Y/N)? God, you would be so mad.

‘’Hey, guys.’’ You finally came back to the table, sitting next to Dick. ‘’What’s up?’’

‘’After seeing her?’’ Jason smirked, pointing at the woman who was now drinking a martini with his head. ‘’My dic—’’

‘’Keep it classy, Todd,” you scoffed, a light chuckle leaving your lips. Although the fact that your boyfriend was quiet didn’t allow you to tease Jason a bit more before he got up and started walking towards Sofia.

Dick hung his head low, not daring to face you. He felt so disgusting for acting like that.

You glared at him, confused by his awkward behavior. Maybe he had gotten in a fight with Bruce? Probably not. You two had a little chat not even ten minutes ago. Jason also didn’t seem annoyed, so no implication of brotherly interference either. What could have gotten into him that quickly?

‘’Dick, are you okay? Do you want to go home?’’

The clear worry in your voice only made his stomach swirl in guilt.

‘’(Y/N), I did something terrible. I didn’t consider your feelings and I’m sorry.’’ You straightened your posture, tensing up at his words. ‘’I was checking out someone.’’

You wiggled your eyebrows together, a bit confused by his sort of admission. ‘’Like, in a creepy way that made her scared?’’ Dick shook his head from side to side, an nonverbal yet very vocal no. ‘’Oh, well. That’s okay, then.’’ After calming yourself a bit, you slap his shoulder. How could he scare you like that? For a moment, you thought he would say that he had killed your fishes or cheated on you. ‘’I thought it was something serious!’’

‘’You aren’t mad?’’ Grayson asked, sea blue eyes locked with yours. His mouth was half open, surprised and mildly disturbed by your reaction. He hadn’t seen that coming.

‘’Of course not, baby. It’s okay to look. We are dating, but other people are still attractive. I get it.’’ You shrugged, not really caring about it. Yet, curiosity took the best of you. ‘’Who was that anyway?’’

Still a bit shocked, Dick pointed at Sofia. ‘’That one.’’

‘’Jason was fussing over her,” you commented, now actually taking time to admire that woman. She had such a beautiful body, and the way her butt looked in that tight dress was spectacular. You crossed your legs, feeling a bit too aroused by the vision. ‘’I’d tap that.’’

‘’Hey!’’ Dick gasped, appearing offended by your words. Finding other people hot? Okay. Natural. But going for their butt? No way! You always said that was your favorite part of his.

‘’I have a better ass!’’

‘’Sure you do, D,’’ you replied, but your eyes remained laid on the woman who was excitedly talking to Jason.

‘’(Y/N), come on!’’ Dick huffed, crossing his arms. ‘’(Y/N)!’’

He would have to insist for a few more seconds before you got tired eyeing of Sofia, only to see your loving boyfriend with a cute pout on his lips.

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whereflowersbloom · 4 years

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Pumpkin Disaster

Richard could almost smell the cinnamon spice, vanilla scent and cinnamon sugar in the air. The colors of the leaves changed from green to a dazzling display of red, orange and yellow. The air became crisper and temperatures dropped a bit as a chill came into the air.

Richard Grayson absolutely loved Halloween. As expected of the eldest Wayne sibling, he was the kind of person who enjoyed decorating and preparing the manor for Halloween because of his everlasting enthusiasm for holidays. He loved the cheesy and horror movies, the excuse to stuff his face with candy, the seasonal special editions of cereal, the elaborate and extravagant costumes, the creative decorations. It was his second favorite holiday. And he definitely considered it a holiday.

Halloween wasn’t just a day to him. Oh no. The whole month of October was Halloween. But with his vigilante duties, intermittent Titans training and constant Gotham crises cropping up, he had made it through two weeks of the month without an ounce of Halloween festivity. But that was about to change.

“You never carved pumpkins for Halloween?” Dick Grayson asked incredulously, pressing a hand to his chest in a move overly dramatic.

Damian exclaimed a familiar ‘TT’ in response. For him seeing people playing pretend, wearing flashy and ridiculous costumes was not particularly interesting. Thought they weren’t much different from the impractical clothing Todd and Richard insisted on wearing. It was just a recurrent reminder that he was not a normal child.

“Which part of I was raised in the inhospitable and desolate mountains you didn’t comprehend, Grayson?” Damian brusquely returned with furrowed eyebrows.

“But we cannot celebrate it without carving your first pumpkin...” Grayson sounded so downhearted it stung Damian with shadowy guilt. Out of all his adoptive siblings Grayson was the pleasant and tolerable one. Damian swallowed hard.

“I want all of us to carve a pumpkin!” Dick declared holding up his index finger in contempt. Damian raised a dark eyebrow as a go on communicating silently. “We are all doing this together as a family.”

“It’s not necessary. I’m not a small child anymore.” Damian scoffed, rolling his eyes before refocusing on his Robert Frost book, flipping another page. No. He would not acquiesce easily into this. He was self-sufficient, mature preteen. Not a child.

“Demon spawn, you are only eleven.” Jason commented before putting out a finished cigarette. Fortunately Alfred wasn’t lurking around to give him disapproving eyes for smoking inside the manor.

“Is this your way of asking for a new scar, Todd?” Damian threatened through gritted teeth and clenched fists, mind quickly calculating the damage of throwing an explosive batarang.

“You’re getting less insufferable to be around.” Jason scoffed and met Damian with a sly smirk. “Dickie, pouting is not an acceptable reaction for a full-grown adult.” Jason sing-songed as he grabbed his motorbike keys.

“This includes you Jaybird. I plan on getting you into the Halloween spirit.” Dick announced with his authoritative leader tone, letting Jason know he would be part of this wether he liked it or not.

Jason groaned dreadfully, cursing under his breath. Great. Now he was part of the Halloween circus. At least he didn’t have to take the annoying gremlin pumpkin picking. God knows what would happened if they fed him candy. The thought gave Jason chilling goosebumps.

Damian folded his arms over his chest in a sign of disagreement. “I don’t do pumpkins. It’s a waste of food. It amounts to about 18,000 tons of pumpkin, including flesh and seeds. Have you read the recent studies on how it’s destroying the environment?”

“Come on, D. You will have fun. You can carve your own Robin lantern” Dick encouraged, practically vibrating with excitement. Damian wondered what on earth he did to deserve such blinding sunshine as his adoptive sibling. “...and I’m sure Alfred will find a convenient way to make use of the pumpkins.”the last words seemed to have done the trick to convince the younger boy.

Damian considered the options carefully for a solid minute. He knew better than ignoring Richard wouldn’t get him anywhere. He wouldn’t leave it alone. Sigh. If it meant he could help Pennyworth baking a pumpkin spice pie with ginger-snag crust...

“Lead the way, Grayson.” Damian sighed resignedly.

Dick squealed in joy, bouncing to his feet and wrapping his arms around Damian’s neck.

It was just pumpkin carving what exactly could go wrong. Right?

~~~

Less than two hours later Jason Todd walked into the kitchen of the Wayne manor, initially looking for a cup of peppermint tea as the Gotham chilly autumn winds were making him crave a hot beverage.

“Would anyone care to explain why is there a whole fucking pumpkin patch on the kitchen table?” Jason muttered audibly, mouth opened in stupefaction. What in the name of Halloweentown....Where did all these pumpkins come from?

“Language, Jay.” Dick scolded him glancing up at him over a pile of massive mutant pumpkins with a provoking grin.

“I grew up in the Narrows. I’m allowed to swear.” Jason rolled his eyes in reply as he tried to avoid stepping on the pumpkins, accidentally squashing them, they were scattered on the floor, table, those fucking things were everywhere. “Dickie, are you going to explain?”

“These are from Roy.” Richard gestured the numerous orange bulbs with his right hand. “I think he got these from some illegal smuggling bust. I didn’t really ask a lot of questions. I just accepted them because I thought it’d be fun to try carving Batman lanterns with little D.”

It took Jason less than two minutes to process the information. Why was the golden boy not bothered by this?

“You mean these are contraband pumpkins.” He remarked skeptically, green-blue eyes widening still rather incredulous.

Dick simply shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d have a problem.”

Right. Only if Bruce found out about the origin of the contraband pumpkins. Then he’d be blamed for being the bad influence and his merry band of disreputable friends. He groaned as he rubbed the nape of his neck.

“And where is the demon spawn. I don’t seem him anywhere.” He questioned narrowing his eyes and tilting his head to the side the slightest. He had to be close to Dick, but the kitchen was alarmingly too quiet. Too quiet for his liking. This meant trouble.

Tim didn’t try too hard not to flinch as a knife flashed dangerously close to his face and flied past Jason. “This is the third time in the last hour. I’m starting to think it’s personal.” Tim spoke calmly with a sarcastic tone as he continued sipping his black coffee expressionless as usual. Getting knifed by the little demon spawn before Halloween would hav been the cherry on top of the misfortune cake.

Jason was genuinely concerned and wondered how many cups of coffee Tim has had today. Hopefully not over five.

“If he wanted you dead, you’d be already in a casket.” Jason pointed out. It was no secret Damian’s strong aversion towards replacement, but he didn’t wish the shortstack dead.

Tim just shrugged his shoulders casually. “Well, I suppose we always could use your old one.” Fuck that. He took it back.

“Low blow, replacement.” Jason feigned hurt putting a hand to his chest right above his heart in a offended manner.

“It’s juts not cooperating.” The young kid voiced his frustration and discontentment . Leaving the kitchen knife he used on the table. Tt. He was trained and raised for excellence and he couldn’t carve flawlessly a stupid pumpkin. Mother would be entirely displeased.

“Requires time and practice, Dami.” Dick whispered softly with a warm smile, running his hand up and down the preteen’s back.

“I don’t know D, to me it looks like you’re slaughtering it mercilessly.” Jason joked with a wolflike smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Head moving in different angles trying to find a figure or face in the pumpkin Damian had been carving. “Unless you were thinking of the Joker, If so then you have my seal of approval.” The little demon spawn was never the most pleasant person to be around but deep,very deep down maybe Jason had a soft spot for him. Not that he would ever admit it out loud. Never.

“Do us a favor and keep your mouth shut, Todd.” Damian barked, glaring daggers at him.

“I never did Halloween with my parents.” The words escaped Tim’s mouth before his brilliant brain registered the order. The pain wasn’t there anymore. No. There were charity Galas, social events for wealthy socialites, last minute journeys for significant discoveries. Because people often assumed there will be plenty of time later. Tim didn’t want Damian to live for the later.

“I remember trading a cheap wristwatch for expired candy once. Not a great deal.” Jason muttered nonchalantly, giving it unimportance. Tone flat and factual. His memories from the narrows weren’t memorable for being happy or enjoyable but he had what he managed to obtain and he did what was necessary in order to survive. Nothing to be ashamed of.

“There’s always a first, Timbo.” Dick placed sympathetically a hand on Tim’s shoulder in a comforting way. Tim smiled softly back. Well, perhaps this pumpkin carving experience could be fun.

~~~

“This is the grossest thing I’ve ever done.” Tim announced, scooping a handful of pumpkin guts out of his pumpkin and examining them distastefully. “Seriously. I’ve done some pretty gross things, but this takes the cake.”

Jason flicked playfully a few pumpkin seeds at him and Tim moved fast enough to evade almost all of them. “Don’t be such a crybaby, replacement.” He has been playing with the large pumpkin, stabbing it numerous times picturing the joker’s fAce.

“Look at the gremlin, he’s been doing it for like two hours. What if he’s developed an addiction?” Jason mumbled slightly concerned and half-joking to Tim.

Damian pulled the pumpkin impossibly closer to him, practically cradling the thing in his lap. His mind completely absorbed in the task of carving the perfect pumpkin. His back was pressed to the cupboards behind him, a series of knives and napkins scattered at his sides. He looked focused, impossibly focused, like there could never be a more important thing for him to pour his energy into. Because Damian Wayne even if he didn’t admit it was obsessed with maintaining perfection. Failure was not a word he accepted.

Damian rolled his eyes. “I’m fairly sure no one has ever got addicted to pumpkin carving and I can hear you, mindless fools.”

"Any behavior can become compulsive.” Tim supplied absently, eyes fixed on the small pumpkin in front of him.

Dick paused briefly from working on his Nightwing lantern to just observe Damian, not even trying to hide the smile on his lips.

Dick and Jason quietly exchange discreet glances. Quickly they picked a few pumpkin seeds out of the bowl that resided in the scented of the kitchen table, flicking them over towards Damian who squawked and tried unsuccessfully, to duck. Due to being too focused on the task assigned. “Will you stop distracting me? I have a masterpiece to finish!”

“A masterpiece?” Jason asked teasingly, glancing pointedly at his Batman lantern.

“Yes. A masterpiece, Todd.” Damian exhaled exasperated. What did anyone have to do to carve a mere pumpkin in peace?

“Come on, little D. It’s time to have some fun!” Jason threw a handful of pulpy flesh at his face. Oh. This would be seen as a declaration of war. Quickly, Damian grabbed a portion of pumpkin and aimed for Jason’s leather jacket. ‘NOT MY JACKET’ several minutes later, Drake was covered in the orange flesh from head to toes. He was in urgent need of a bath. Grayson was smart enough to grasp a breakfast tray and use it as a shield, however it didn’t work for long. Damian and Tim teamed up to caught him on the top with a surprise attack, Drake sneaking behind his back. Needless to say the kitchen was in shambles at this point. Good thing Pennyworth has been busy the whole day reorganizing the library.

“What’s all this mess in my kitchen?! Master Richard I demand a proper explanation!” A very agitated British voice came from the doorframe. Alfred very upset, furrowing his grey brows appeared looking utterly baffled by the chaos.

Oops.

“Fuck me” Jason and Richard grumbled in unison from the floor covered in pumpkin pulp. Soon they broke out in bowls of laughter all four of them. Damian genuinely laughed at his heart’s content with the innocence of a normal child. His family may have been unstable and insane, but canned if they weren’t entertaining and the best part of his new life.

Some mandatory batbros bonding October prompt 🎃 🙈🙈🙈❤️💜💜

Also I’m celebrating 1.8K followers. Thank you so much for your support and reading my stories. I appreciate it 🥺🥺

Edited here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26891536

@sofiii @chromium7sky @deep-in-mind67

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holy-fate-worse-than-death · 5 years

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Red has a new chapter!

Chapter 13 is here! That’s right, it’s the Jaydick fluff chapter you’ve all been waiting for! (No? Just me? Okay...)

As always, you can read the whole fic here, but I feel like this chapter can be read as a standalone bit of Jaydick fluff (with some Superbat mentions), so I’ll post it below the cut.

Word count: 3966 because I’m a long-winded bitch who likes describing Dick Grayson’s face a whole lot

Content Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death, mentions of sex, mentions of canon-typical violence

He was waiting until Bruce got back, Jason told himself. But his fingers, tapping impatiently against the steering wheel in front of him, told a different story. Maybe it was this damn car, a silver Porsche 911 that was older than Jason was. It was small, sleek and low to the ground; not the sort of car Jason would usually drive, but he’d picked it from the garage that morning because he remembered that it was the one Dick had taken his first joyride in. It had seemed appropriate, given that he was driving to Blüdhaven and back. The plan that was slowly coming to life in his head, unfurling like blueprints across the Batcave’s conference table, was fuelled by the type of sheer ego that only Bruce Wayne could pull off. Bruce Wayne and all his shiny cars, and even shinier gadgets.

Jason sighed, reaching out and flicking off the radio with a short, frustrated noise. As if the lasts few days hadn’t been enough to wind him up, every radio DJ in Gotham had seemingly forgotten what taste was while he was gone.

He fished his phone out from the centre console and jammed it into the mount on the dash. It connected to the car’s radio automatically. Jason was planning to play some of his own music, but when his fingers touched the phone he found himself calling Dick’s number instead.

I was going to surprise him, he thought as he set the call to speaker.

It took a few rings for Dick to pick up, and Jason found his heart skipping with each one. A knot formed under his diaphragm and it seemed to siphon off some of his air, leaving him not-quite breathless.

“Jay?” Dick asked mildly, a hint of surprise in his voice.

See the thing is, Jason never calls first. He isn’t – has never been – the one to initiate these things. It was always a one-word text from Dick to Jason’s cell; just the word ‘now’ or an address. Jason never replied to them, but he always showed up. But then that night had happened- and god, Jason couldn’t think about it without wanting to scream or cry or something. How had he gone from ramming Dick’s ass once or twice a month to I hate you for making me fall in love with you, all in one night?

“You driving?” Dick asked after a while, when Jason didn’t say anything.

In retrospect, he probably could have at least said ‘hello’. But there was blood rushing in his ears and someone had just cut him off on the highway. He hummed in affirmation, wondering if Dick could even hear him through the speaker.

Dick’s voice dropped lower then, more serious. Jason pictured him sitting down, tensing his shoulders and worrying at the hem of his sleeve like he always did when he was nervous.

“How’s Damian?” he breathed.

Jason smiled then, despite Dick’s sombre tone. Perhaps he should have been worried, but truth be told the kid was bouncing back like a champ. He’d even had the Kent kid over yesterday. They’d squabbled over ice-cream flavours like real kids, and Jason’s chest had been full to bursting. The Kent kid – Jon – had helped Damian feed all his animals, even his cow and the two-dozen battery hens that now roamed Wayne Manor’s hedge maze (and Jesus, Jason would have to ask Dick later how the fuck that had come to be). It had been weird, seeing these two miniature versions of Bruce and Clark chase each other around the Manor, but it had also felt so spine-tinglingly right.

“He looks like his mom when he smiles,” Jason murmured, not realising he’d spoken out loud until the words were already hanging like a warm cloud in the air.

“How well did you know her?” Dick enquired.

Dick was always so inquisitive, so full of questions. For a long time, it had annoyed Jason, pissed him off to the point where he’d yelled at his older counterpart about it a time or two. But these days he’d just resigned himself to it; understood that it was the natural companion for Jason’s (no doubt equally as infuriating) brevity.

As if to hammer that point home, Jason replied with a single word: “Well.”

Dick hmmed at him then, just as Jason turned onto the Blüdhaven off-ramp. Now or never, he thought to himself.

“You at home?” he asked gruffly.

“Yeah,” Dick replied easily, a smile creeping into his voice, “Night off.”

“I’m coming over,” Jason told him, not bothering to phrase it as a question.

Dick’s breath hitched on the other end of the line and Jason chewed on his lip, wondering if he’d pushed his luck too far.

“Okay,” Dick eventually breathed, letting out a long, shaky breath that Jason wasn’t sure he was meant to hear.

Jason smirked to himself, relieved that he could still take the guy’s breath away when he wanted to. Emboldened, he asked, “So… what are you wearing?”

He’d figured the question – which was the sort of thing only straight men in their forties ever asked their dates – would have earned him a laugh from his jovial older counterpart. Instead, silence tore a schism between them, and Jason was left feeling like all the air had been sucked from inside the car.

When Dick finally spoke, he wasn’t even angry, he just sounded sad: “Jay, please don’t make fun of this.”

Jason’s stomach sank so far that he could feel it in his knees. In his mind’s eye he was seeing Clark, in that abandoned hospital on the outskirts of Smallville, flinching at Jason’s joke and trying desperately to hide it. That moment had already broken Jason’s heart, and somehow this one was so much worse.

He wanted to grab Dick’s sweet, scared face in his hands and kiss him until he forgot every stupid thing Jason had ever said; until he could feel Jason’s feelings pulsating between them. He wanted to breathe new life into this tired, terrified boy who’d been the only one brave enough to call this what it was. The one who’d been brave enough to call Jason’s name since the very first night they were together. The one who’d kept letting him in, piece by piece, knowing that the Red Hood would almost certainly break him; run him through and pierce his heart like he’d done to so many men before him. Admittedly, those men had been criminals, not lovers, but sometimes Jason felt like his whole being existed to cater to criminals.

“I’ll be over in fifteen,” Jay croaked, fumbling to hang up the phone before Dick could protest.

He looked at himself in the rear-view mirror; eyes downturned and sad under a grey-white fringe that had been neatly combed to one side. His eyeliner was smoky, and a little too thick, because he’d applied it in the car to avoid having that conversation with Damian. Not that he was ashamed, it just seemed like something that his brother didn’t need to be thinking about right now, especially with the way the Kent kid made him blush. Jeez, he thought, they really are their father’s sons.

Jason had pulled a crisp white tee from Bruce’s closet (all of Jason’s were stained or torn) and paired it with his tightest black jeans, throwing his usual jacket and boots on with it. Somehow the shirt was enough to clean up his whole look, and he was glad; he wanted Dick to know he’d put in a little effort.

For fucking once, Jason thought bitterly, glaring at his own reflection.

Dick’s loft in Blüdhaven was an intimidatingly light and airy place, with none of the Gotham gothic style Jason was used to. Even in the various short-term rentals Jason had lived in over the years (including a few here in Blüdhaven), Jason had maintained the greyscale colour palette of Wayne Manor and The Penthouse. Here, everything was shades of warm brown; wood-panelled walls and unpolished floorboards, with a modest chipboard kitchen and huge windows with lace curtains that danced in the afternoon breeze.

Dick’s clothing was draped over everything; a salmon-pink button-down over the back of the couch alongside a half-inside-out pair of pale blue jeans, a denim jacket hung over the back of one of the breakfast bar’s stools, a pair of discarded boxers on the living room floor. Everything smelled so much like him, and Jason spied some black-and-red Kevlar mesh poking out from between the couch cushions. Jason snorted at the discarded uniform and sauntered towards the bedroom where he’d heard footsteps. Better than a glass case, he thought.

Come in! It’s open! Dick had called at him when he’d knocked, so Jason did.

Jason swung the bedroom door open and dropped his shoulder against the doorframe. It was darker in here, and Jason spied the rubber-backed curtains on the window that blocked out the sunlight. He smirked at them, the contrast between these curtains and the ones in the living room serving as a reminder that Dick was still the antisocial little cave-dweller they all were.

His eyes fell to Dick then, soft hair curtaining his face as he desperately tried to yank on a pair of jeans that were entirely too tight. Jason was familiar with his plight and had to stifle a laugh as Dick desperately tried to force the offending denim over his ass. His back was turned, and Jason could see the way all the muscles in his shoulders tensed as he hopped up and down, fingers hooked through his belt loops.

“Take it easy, D,” Jason chortled.

He pushed off the doorframe as Dick spun around to face him, a half-hearted glare sent in Jason’s direction. Jason figured he probably deserved it, but he ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach.

Instead, he barrelled into Dick, gripping the back of the acrobat’s waistband and yanking his jeans up over his ass easily, inadvertently lifting Dick into the air in the process. Without thinking it through (and gee, there was a surprise) Jason snaked his hands around to the front of Dick’s jeans to do up his fly for him. There was a joke in there somewhere about the irony of Jason helping him put on his jeans instead of taking them off, but Jason left it unsaid.

Dick’s hands had fallen limp to his sides as Jason manhandled him, and now he rolled his eyes.

“Thanks mom,” he said, shoving Jason away playfully so he could bend over and retrieve his socks from the floor.

Dick sat down on the edge of his unmade bed to put them on, and Jason stood over him, grinning like a maniac. He looked good like that, still shirtless and leaning backwards onto the bed, one leg in the air as he tugged a bat-symbol-branded sock over his foot.

“You still wear the matchin’ panties too?” Jason asked, inching just a little closer to Dick as he began to tug on the other sock.

Dick blushed then, and Jason’s smirk got even wider. He’d just seen Dick putting on his pants, so he knew the answer was yes. But it reminded Jason of so many other times – and the first time, where he’d cracked some lame joke about daddy issues and then torn them off with his teeth.

But this wasn’t about sex, and it wasn’t just about Jason distracting himself from the ludicrous plan he was setting in motion in Bruce’s absence, either. This was meant to be about something else, so Jason sank into Dick’s lap, startling his older counterpart, and pressed his lips gently against Dick’s.

Jason had never kissed like this before. Usually when he kissed somebody it was a jaws-clashing, teeth-gnashing, go-until-you’ve-got-spit-on-your-chin affair. And Jason loved that, of course, but this was something else.

Dick’s lips were soft and pliant under his, tentative and quivering just a little. Unlike last time, neither of them was crying now, and Jason had all the time in the world to work Dick’s mouth open and explore it tenderly with his tongue. He wrapped his arms around Dick’s neck like a girl might and pulled back playfully so that Dick had to chase his mouth to continue the kiss – which Dick did eagerly. Their lips made that sound that happened when people kissed in movies and Dick weaved a hand between them and up to Jason’s face, cupping his jaw and rubbing circles on Jason’s cheek with his thumb.

The kiss never deepened, but when they pulled back to rest their foreheads together they were breathing as though it had. Even so, there was a stillness in the room, a comfortable silence that embraced them as they embraced each other.

Jason opened his eyes first, Dick’s relaxed, gently-smiling face coming into focus. Dick’s dark eyelashes dusted his cheekbones, and his lips were red and shiny now, pulled up into the ghost of a smile and still parted slightly. Jason settled properly onto the bed, knees still bracketing Dick’s thighs, and wondered if he could stay like this forever.

The soft afternoon light filtered in through the bedroom door over Jason’s shoulder, casting the perfect shadows over Dick’s face. His jaw was strong and square, his cheekbones high and angular, but set into an exquisitely masculine shape. His nose was wide at the nostrils, the bridge of it sunken back into his face and crooked from at least a half-dozen broken noses. The first hint of a beard peppered his chin and Jason had to resist the urge to nuzzle his own face against it.

Eventually, Dick’s eyes opened and he sighed contentedly, wriggling with lazy pleasure as he wrapped his arms more firmly around Jason’s waist. Jason thought that it was nice to be held like this (though he’d never say it out loud). He was still tense with the knowledge of what was coming next, but for once he felt safe in someone’s embrace.

It reminded him, perhaps perversely, of the first time Bruce had ever held him; sheltering Jason from the storm he’d been weathering on his own for so many years. And it reminded him of how he’d held Damian and Tim over the past few days, though he’d been in Dick’s role during those moments. Is it supposed to feel like this all the time? he wondered.

Dick was staring up into his eyes now, their haziness disappearing as he scrutinised his younger counterpart. Jason knew what he was looking at, and he wondered if Dick – or anyone in the family – had ever seen him with makeup on before. Jason squirmed, somewhat despite himself, but Dick’s lazy little smile never faltered.

“So,” Dick began carefully, “What’s the plan.”

Jason chewed on his lip as he contemplated how best to answer that. Jason hadn’t come here with an explicit plan, but somewhere between the Gotham on-ramp and the Blüdhaven off-ramp, Jason had come to know exactly where he’d take Dick. It had seemed silly at that point, to drive all the way out here to pick up Dick, only to drive right back to Gotham, but somehow it had seemed right. Old fashioned, he thought to himself. But it had seemed like the type of thing that Clark Kent would do, and so Jason had done it.

“There’s this old Italian place down by Amusement Mile,” Jason started, climbing out of Dick’s lap to sit next to him on the bed.

He swivelled his head to face Dick, giving his older counterpart a look that hopefully conveyed his seriousness. Instinctively, Jason reached out and took Dick’s hand in his, giving it a little squeeze. Dick didn’t respond, but he didn’t jerk his hand away either – though he was looking at Jason with a calculated sort of confusion; brows knitting together as his eyes flew across Jason’s features, trying to read him.

“They have the best ossobuco in the city,” Jason continued, swallowing down the ache that came from how much he sounded like his Sicilian mother whenever he said anything more Italian than ‘pizza’.

Jason had never been to this Italian place himself, but a long time ago Dick had told him about it. More specifically, he’d told Jason that it was the last place he’d eaten with his parents before their deaths.

Dick had stopped breathing now, and Jason pre-emptively flinched, ready for Dick to wrench his hand away and throw Jason out of the apartment. Which was why Jason nearly choked when Dick squeezed his hand instead.

“Have you ever been back?” Jason asked softly, knowing that Dick had caught on to his plan now.

“No,” Dick whispered, turning his face away from Jason’s to scrunch his toes in the carpet.

Dick took several long, steadying breaths before he spoke again. Jason waited patiently, never loosening his grip on Dick’s hand. He’d wait for Dick Grayson for as long as it took. Had been waiting, he realised, maybe since before his death.

“Is this a date?” Dick asked after a while, eyes flickering over to Jason briefly before returning to the carpet.

“Yes,” Jason answered firmly, utterly determined not to give Dick any cowardly cop-outs this time – not this time, and never again if he could help it.

Dick’s breathing had gone shallow again, but Jason felt suddenly emboldened to press on. Maybe it was the candour with which Clark had apologised to him back in Smallville that inspired him. After all, when Clark had done it, it had earned more of Jason’s respect than anything else could have. He figured he owed Dick at least that.

“But it’s also an apology,” he said, perhaps not as confidently as Clark would have, though he imagined Clark had had far more practice at this during his time as Superman (and during his time dating Bruce Wayne).

Dick turned to him, like he was about to ask, ‘for what?’ but Jason was already answering him.

“For… everything.”

Dick’s tears this time are gentle and quiet. They roll down his face like rain on a windowpane, and it takes a beat before Jason even spots them. When he does, his eyes begin to prick as well, and he reaches out automatically to cup Dick’s face in his hand and turn the older man towards him. Dick’s eyes are wet and glistening, but the hopelessness that Jason had seen in them that night outside Damian’s room is (mercifully) no longer there.

Licking a tear off his lips, Jason smiled weakly and asked, “How do you do this?”

He was half-asking how Dick could stand to cry so often when Jason usually cried about three times a year on average, and half-asking something else, which he voiced as best as he could:

“It’s like every time you cry, I have to cry too.”

Dick laughed at him then; a wet, sunny little laugh that ended in a sniffle.

“That’s called love,” he said easily, his tone as breezy and incredulous as if he was explaining to an alien what a toaster was.

“Well,” Jason said, wiping his tears away and laying back on the bed with a sigh.

He pillowed one of his arms behind his head, using his free hand (which was still in Dick’s) to tug his older counterpart down with him. Dick complied, rolling onto his side and resting his head on his elbow. From his vantage, he stared down at Jason while Jason stared thoughtfully up at the ceiling.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Jason said after a while, finishing the thought he’d left hanging in the air.

Dick’s tears were gone now, and he’d perked up considerably. The amicability between them was unlike anything either of them had had together since before Jason had died, and if Jason had been asked to describe it, he might have called it freeing.

Dick certainly seemed free, as he asked, “You’ve never been in love before?” as unabashedly as a middle schooler might.

Jason chewed on Dick’s words for a while. The question ought to have made him anxious, but he felt nothing but an honest fascination that mirrored Dick’s. Never really thought about it before, he said to himself, deciding that wouldn’t be a good enough answer to satisfy Dick’s insatiable curiosity.

“Once,” Jason finally settled on, letting the story flow out of him before he was even sure where it was going. “He was hot,” he stated matter-of-factly.

He turned his head to give Dick a gratuitous look that said, ‘he was very hot’.

“And smart,” Jason added, “and sweet, and caring.” Jason scrubbed a hand over his face idly. “He was everything I wanted to be back then.”

Jason let out a puff of air from deep in his tightening chest, turning his head back to the ceiling so that he didn’t have to deal with all the emotions muddying Dick’s perfect face.

“This guy inspired me,” Jason continued, quieter now. “He made me want to be a better person.”

Jason smiled, memories that he hadn’t allowed in since his resurrection flooding his mind. But for once they weren’t flashbacks, they were like a warm breeze blown across his face, and he was heady with the sensation of it.

“This was before I died,” Jason clarified, for once not feeling torn apart by the mention of his own death. “How I felt about him changed everything. It made me who I am.”

Jason’s head lolled to the side, still resting on his arm, and he smiled easily at Dick; a smile that reached his eyes, because Jason felt like he was really looking at him for the first time ever.

“I wanted to be good enough for him,” Jason said. “And in the end, you know, I think I almost was.”

Jason sighed wistfully, and Dick shifted on the bed beside him with what might have been discomfort. He was faintly aware that Dick should be uncomfortable, surprised by Jason’s sudden candour, maybe even a little jealous. But he felt good, for once. His chest was light, and he felt like he could take the weight of the world. Or, at least, the weight of Dick and his brothers.

“Did I mention hot?” Jason asked with a laugh.

There was silence after that for a while, as Dick processed, and Jason continued to revel in old memories.

Memories of soaring through the air, and refitting the Robin suit, and eating McDonalds on the corner of Cornerstone Court and Third Avenue at the end of a patrol. Memories of stupid puns and witty one-liners; of aborted jokes, and stories that always got cut off by the blaring of an ambulance siren or the chatter of a police scanner. Memories of pillow forts in Wayne Manor, and ice-cream sundaes made hastily behind Alfred’s back. Memories of raucous laughter and boyhood. Memories of his childhood best friend.

Memories of Dick Grayson.

“You should tell him,” Dick said firmly after a while.

At some point his hand had slipped out of Jason’s, and now Jason felt the ache of its absence.

“Whatever is between us,” Dick continued slowly, holding Jason’s gaze, “You should tell him that he was loved.”

Jason’s smile unfurled alongside the great python in his chest that had been constricting his heart since that night all those months ago, when he’d caught Dick’s eye across the floor of The Black Cat. His grin was untameable, taking over his whole face until his eyes crinkled and his cheeks were sore.

He rolled up onto his side, pushing Dick down onto the bed so that they were a mirroring their previous positions. He tried to wrangle his smile and hold Dick’s gaze with some amount of seriousness, but he failed outstandingly.

“I think I just did.”

#jaydick #jason todd #dick grayson #fanfic #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #batfam fanfic #batfam fanfiction #superbat

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ellana-ravenwood · 7 years

Text

“I’m not drunk, you are” - Bruce Wayne x Reader

Summary : Reader never drinks alcohol, so obviously, the day she decides to taste some champagne, she’s quickly...Rather drunk. Bruce and his sons are fortunately there to take care of her...and to film her embarrassing moments.

You can find my masterlist here : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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You never drink alcohol. Never. You just don’t like the taste of most of the beverages. Champagne or wine, tequila or vodka, even just a light cider...No thank you.

When you go out with Bruce, you usually drink a soda or soft drink, even just water sometimes.

But tonight, at yet another charity ball, your mind was elsewhere.

You had done it again. It often happened, and you always regretted it. Always. But you just couldn’t help it. Sometimes, you just had to be a sarcastic little shit full of witty answers. It always got you in trouble, since your early days in school, to now, in an important and very public event.

This time, you had been a sarcastic little shit full of witty answers to the Mayor himself. The man already had a problem with your family ever since Bruce decided to support Harvey Dent to become the new mayor of Gotham, and was probably one of the most corrupted people in the World...so, needless to say that, when he left you company, clearly upset, you knew your actions would have repercussions, consequences, and it stressed the hell out of you. Why couldn’t you just control that damn mouth of yours ?

Bruce wrapped a reassuring arms around your waist, bend down to your ears and whispered into it :

-Relax (Y/N), no matter what, I’ll handle it. As Bruce Wayne or as...the other one.

You gave him a weak smile and shook your head.

-I’m so sorry Bruce...I really try to control myself, but when people like that man complain about not having a fourth plasma screen, or shit like that, while the city is drowning in poverty, I just can’t help myself. More than usual.

-I know. I don’t blame you. At all. I already told you dear, your big mouth is one of the thing I love the most in you. I always know that you’re honest with me, which is rare, and you don’t hesitate to tell me when I go too far or something...I really love your big mouth.

He paused as you squeezed his hand lovingly, and added in a very low whisper :

-I also like it when you use it for...other performances.

And with a wink, he made you blush like crazy. You hit him without much force in the ribs, and he chuckled, taking a sip of his little glass of bourbon.

You really appreciated his effort to make you feel better...but Mayor Hady was a dangerous man, and you couldn’t help but think that telling him that he was proof evolution could go in reverse was definitely not your best idea...Oh my god and you said so much worst. You made people around you laugh. He was humiliated...You started sweating a bit, and got stressed again, not being able to bear the thought that you might have put your family in danger.

Bruce was really not worried, he kept all of the mayor’s actions monitored, and discovered that Sebastian Hady wasn’t actually as dangerous as he loved to pretend. You didn’t know however, and in this moment, Bruce didn’t really think about reassuring you on that, because really, for him, all of this story wasn’t much of a big deal at all.

Your husband got called by a bunch of old men that he knew, and you had absolutely no intention of joining in in the conversion, so you went to your sons, and ranted a bit about your latest mistake. They all laughed, loving your antics...

And that’s the story of how you ended up with a glass of champagne in your hand. Jason said it’d loosen you up some, and you definitely needed to get rid of some stress...So you drunk.

Jay was right, the first glass did loosen you up.

The second one helped even more.

At the third one, Dick warned you not to drink more, as since you never drink alcohol, it could have quite an effect on you.

He didn’t see you drink the fourth and fifth glass, as you got separated to talk to different acquaintances.

When you felt Bruce’s arm go around your waist, you just slumped on him and he looked down on you, worried you might have fainted or something.

You were drinking your seventh glass.

You were also drunk as fuck.

-Are you Ok ?

Your husband ask in your ear, bending down to reach it as he was quite taller than you. Your looked at him with a serious expression, and said :

-No Bruce, I’m not OK.

-What is it dear ?

You squinted at him, and pointed a finger to his face.

-You damn well know it mister.

-Please, enlighten me...

-You didn’t tell me.

-...What didn’t I tell you ?

Silence. You look at him with the expression of a child that is annoyed, and you push him a bit away from you, gesturing around you (working really hard on keeping your balance).

-You didn’t tell me that it was a costume ball !

Bruce just stares at you as if you’re crazy, and quickly understand that you drank too much. He glares at Dick and Jason who are laughing in a corner while looking at you yelling, and they immediately stop.

-Do you think I didn’t tell you it was a costume ball because...it isn’t one ?

-Nonsense my beloved Bruce, look at those people, look what they’re wearing, it’s too...too...bourgeois to be their real clothes. It look more like a...masquerade kind of ball you know. I mean, look at her over there, she’s wearing something out of the Renaissance, for real. And look at that guy’s tuxedo, it looks like it’s made out of Gold...Wait, is it actually gold ?

Before you could walk up to the man to ask him what his clothes were made of, Bruce dragged you away with him to a nearby corridor, out of sight and out of ears. You kept commenting the “awful choice of wardrobe” of the people present, and some heard you and got totally offended. Though, they knew who you were. You had a reputation to be too brutally honest sometimes...

-What are you doing Bruce ? ...Are you ashamed of me because I’m not wearing an extra fancy dress that looks like it use to belong to Marie-Antoinette or some shit ?

He couldn’t help but chuckle, as your sons joined you. Damian looked worried, but when you winked at him he let out a sigh of relief and awkwardly winked back. You smiled, and let out a loud burp. Ew. So much for a cute mother/son moment...

-I’ll never be ashamed of you my love, but you are very drunk, I wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourself.

-Tuh, baby, I can embarrass myself sober...Besides, I’m not drunk. I never drink.

More chuckles from your sons. Tim took his phone out and started to record you making faces at the camera. He was so going to make an edit of that to show you later, and use as leverage when he’d want something and you’d say “no”.

-Ok, I know that in general you’re very self-aware of what you are, and all of that. But from what the kids have been telling me, you drunk about seven glasses of champagne, and since it’s the first time you actually drink...

-Bruce, babe, if I was drunk, I’d know right ? I’m not...Holly shit honey, I didn’t notice before but, you look dapper ! Every men in this room should take example on you, nothing can go wrong when you wear a tuxedo. Well, except for Oswald Cobblywhateverhislastnameis. That man looks like a...penguin or something, with a tuxedo on.

It was getting very hard for your boys and husband not to laugh, and when you started to breakdance to Beethoven, they totally lost it. People were starting to stare at the famous Waynes, all standing in the corridor, laughing their asses off while one of them was dancing to classical music...Minded, your dance move were on point. Especially since you wore high heels. Great balance.

Bruce stood in front of you, his large frame shielding you from people’s view.

-(Y/N), let’s go home, you’re drunk.

You stopped dancing, and turned to him with vivacity. You melted a bit when you saw his amused expression, it was so rare to see it on his face...But then, you remembered that he was totally wrong, and went to grab your handbag.

-If I was drunk, could I make paper cranes ? Look.

You took Bruce’s wallet out of your purse (how cute, you were keeping it for him), and got a hundred dollars bill out of it, quickly starting to work on your origami, sticking your tongue out as you were deeply focus.

Tim wasn’t missing any action with the camera of his phone, and your other sons, even Damian, were almost suffocating because they laughed so much. Bruce just stared at you making a paper crane, a bit confused. He turned around too see that everyone was now staring at all of you, and some were even getting their phones out. He decided it was time to go.

-Dick, go get the car please...Oh for god sake stop laughing like an idiot and get a move on ! We’re leaving, we gave them money, we won’t be missed. Come on, on we go.

Still laughing loudly, your sons took the corridor to slowly exit the building. You were still making your paper crane when you felt your feet leaving the floor.

-What are you doing Bruce ?

-Carrying you back to the car.

-But...Why ?

-Because you’re drunk.

-Look how flawless my origami is my sweet Bruce, do you think someone drunk could have done such a perfect paper sculpture ?

-You don’t know how to make origamis when you’re sober baby...

You shrugged your shoulder, rolling your eyes as you mouthed the word “nonsense”, and tried to get out of his arms. He let you get back on the floor, but as you took a step, two...you lost balance and fell back in his arms.

-Oh Bruce, the World is spinning...I think I might be a little sick, I feel somewhat dizzy and all...

He just smiled, and this time, when he took you up into his arms, you didn’t resist.

**************

You fell asleep in the car, and Bruce carried you in the mansion with his strong arms. As soon as they entered the place, your sons ran to Alfred to show him the videos Tim took, and to tell him everything...Needless to say, that night was filled with laughter and plans to embarrass you later on.

Bruce didn’t take part in the conversation, as he took you up to your shared bedroom. He laid you down on your bed, and took his clothes off, putting on some comfy sweat pants, leaving his chest bare, and moved back to you. With delicate hands, he took your dress off and...you kicked him in the face. He fell back as you sat up in the bed.

-How dare you, you filthy animal ! I’m not an easy woman ! You can’t just take me home and take advantage of me !

A bit stunned, Bruce stayed where he was, sitting on the floor, and just stared at you as you were ranting. You talked like this for quite some times, and your sentences were making less and less sense, when you finally stopped to look at Bruce, still on the floor, not really knowing what to do.

-...What are you doing down there hun ?

-You pushed me...

-No I didn’t.

-Yes, you did.

-I did ?

-Yup. I hurt my elbow.

He was trying to guilt trip your drunk self, and it worked.

-I’m so sorry honey, oh my god what woooops...

You tried to stand up to reach him, but you also fell, and ended up falling on him, your dress slipping down around your knees. Bruce caught you as best he could, and you both just laughed. How sweet it was to just laugh. Moments like this were so rare...And even though you were drunk, it was still enjoyable, and you’d remember it for a long time.

-Oh my love, what am I going to do with you ?

-Show me your amazing prowesses in bed ?

He laughed. He gave up any prospect of sex as soon as he saw you stumbling around the charity ball, as he knew that you’d probably get too drunk...But your passionate kiss ignited a fire in his lower stomach, and he responded fiercely.

Turned out though, he was right to not expect anything, as mid-kiss, your tongue stopped massaging his, and your hand stopped touching his body...You had fallen back into a deep slumber that you wouldn’t come out off until the next morning.

**************

The next day, pictures of your husband carrying you to the car with the headline : “Bruce Wayne is a perfect gentleman...even when his wife is embarrassingly drunk” were on every newspapers.

But you couldn’t care less as the biggest (and first) hungover you ever had was taking away all of your energy. It wasn’t all bad though, as the entire day, your boys and husband took amazing care of you.

When you finally started to get better, right before their night patrol, Bruce showed you his “amazing prowesses in bed”, and enjoyed a quiet moment cuddling with you before leaving. Whenever he thought he couldn’t love you more, something came up, like you getting totally drunk and being hilarious, and he realized that he could totally fall for you even more deeply.

You were too damn awesome. Even when “embarrassingly drunk”.

#bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne fanfiction #batman x reader #batman oneshot #batfam x reader #Batfamily #Batmom x Bruce Wayne #Batmom #Batmom x batkids

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