#DC Comics fanfiction

[nouearth]

hear me out.

dick grayson x male reader.

summary: dick pushes you to your limits in the gym, and your animosity towards him slowly transforms into unexpected admiration (and unlocks months of concealed pining).

wc: 7.2k. genre: smut. warnings: top!dick, dom!dick, bottom!reader, sub!reader, one sided rivalry (reader's end), enemies to lovers(?), brief fighting, reader and dick are working out, physical fighting (with boxing gloves), envious!reader, insecure!reader, hotheaded!reader, uncut!reader, public!sex, gym!sex, dirty talk, praising, guidance, handjob, fingering, kissing, spitting, lots of sweat, body worshipping, reader will be walking funny for the next week.

Your shoes squeaked after every thump from landing on your feet. One foot chased after the other in a pursuit, and your knees raised past your navel as the cable rope cut through the air with a turn before hitting the ground. You huffed after every snap of the rope, a burn scalding the muscles in your thighs and wrists with every rotation, tensing as if you’d been hit, as if your coarse throat would feel the remnants of the whip afterward. 

“Five…Four…Three…” 

Sweat dripped off your forehead, off the locks of your bouncing hair, in anticipation of a merited water break. The water bottle sat on the seated stationary bench, pooled by its own condensation. You could taste it with your eyes, a ravishing sight that pushed you harder. You sped up, raised your knees higher, and endured the pain for ten seconds more. Your gut was sucked in, engaging with your core, and your breathed out in methodical puffs, your chest rising along with it. Everything was burning, muscles tightening into flaming knots that would render you frail by tomorrow morning. If the floor was lava, your body was the volcano erupting it. 

Holy bells rang once you finally counted down to zero, and you immediately came to a halt, the weight of your gratification breaking your movement with an echoing thud as you instantly marched forward to quench your thirst. 

“Fuck.”

Your nostrils stung more than usual. Flared with every inhale as you were catching up to your breath, and more so when you cooled down with several sips of water. Breathing had never felt so good, an absolute fiend you turned out to be after every workout.

You’re getting weaker. Breathing harder. Quicker. You’re losing control on your breath. How are you going to keep up with the team? If you feel this fatigued after a warm up? You let them down last time. Got knocked out and Dick—

He was getting to your head. Again.

Dick. 

The name rolled off your tongue bitterly. A foul taste of metal and battery acid lingered in your parched mouth before it was drowned out by another gulp of water. Another. 

And another. 

And another, as the aforementioned man across from you halted his ropes, stopping in his tracks. 

He’d been doing this since you’d arrived. Mirroring you like a reflection, copying your every move as if you were an instructor. If you were doing strength training, he stopped his cardio to take the machine next to you. Pushed when you pushed, groaned—louder—when you did. 

Needed to stretch your hips? He made some lame excuse about how his legs were too tight, and felt the need to join you on the floor, stretching himself beyond the limits of what you could achieve. It colored you impressed, but you would never say that out loud. Though, you did silently admire the view of his ass, and that especially, would be kept a secret between you and the floor.

Now, it was with jump-roping. The two ropes swung from either corners of the gym like the gears working silently in your head. There was a need to compete with you for some reason.

A satisfied smirk rolled a drop of sweat off his face, and seized his naked torso with glitter as he took a step under a light that lit his body like a podium, or—and you hated to admit it—like one of the sculptures you remembered fawning over in Art History. From his broad build, you could tell that Dick was sturdy, toned, and undoubtedly beautiful. 

His fringe clung onto his forehead, but you could see the gratification he got from outlasting you, smiling while he squeezed a stream of water into his mouth. You noticed how much more capable he was with the calmness of his breath, and felt his adrenaline pumping through the room. In turn, it possessed you—his energy–maneuvering you to the center of the room where a foam mat was placed, and to which Dick expectedly trailed after you.

“Wanna have a go, partner?” Dick said while rolling his shoulders back before picking up a pair of boxing gloves, then another without your confirmation. 

“Seriously—“ He tossed the other pair towards you, an accurate shot that landed into your arms. “Are you going to be doing this all day? Copying me?” You silently thanked him because you began kneading one glove like a stress ball, the rubber foam absolutely gratifying with every scrunch of your hand, as well as consoling as it kept you sane for a little longer.

“I don’t see the problem—“ You began approaching him with the gloves fitted snug over your fists. “Well, actually. I do see the problem. You’re not training hard enough.” Marching with heavy stomps, your nose flaring with every breath that he casually spat out. 

“You give up as soon as you feel tired. I mean, no amount of water breaks are going to help you. You think we have the time to sip water when we’re rescuing a town? A city? The world?” 

His voice, soft and smooth yet it was grating to your ears. The constant talking. Rambling. It gave you a headache. It made you see red. Hearing him berate you. Mock you.

“You’re breathing too hard too, which is taking up all of your energy. And your emotions? You need to control them better. Not only does it affect your combat, but your relationship with your team. You shut yourself off when you don’t do well on a mission.” 

“What are you, my therapist now?”

“Listen, it does no one any good if you’re—“

And it stopped with a strong swing towards his left cheek. His head snapped to the side when the rubber foam smacked him like a whip. 

If red hadn’t blurred your vision, you would’ve noticed the tiniest smile he mustered up from the corner of his lips. A crooked, slanted one that was followed up with a chuckle.

“Not exactly fair play, but…” He raised a hand to rub at his cheek before adjusting the gloves onto his wrists, cracking his neck and stretching the muscles in his back with one more shoulder roll before positioning himself like you were: knees bent and fists raised with the gloves fencing off your face. 

“I’ll give it to you. You can throw a good punch. Beginner’s luck?”

The comment made you swing at his left, and he snapped his head to the right. You missed. There was a precision to his move, something that you lacked in as he snuck a punch to your right cheek. A grunt was stifled, and then let loose in a cough when you felt another beat to the left of your abdomen. Sputtering breath, when Dick scored another hit to your jaw. 

“Fuck—“ Your eyes locked on him while he held your gaze. Your perception seemingly widened, heightened as you’d noticed the smallest movements from Dick, twitching upon instinct as if he was about to strike, but there was nothing. Just the taunt of his arms, and Dick’s teasing smile to garnish, to taunt.

He was circling you. You were circling him. It was the same movement, following each other like two predators unwilling to share the last morsel of food. You felt as much as a leader as Dick was, but from the outsider’s perspective, it was telling who was following the other’s lead. 

Who was the experienced leader of the two sparring men.

Dick feigned a punch with a raise of his arm, and you immediately buckled, jerking back to nothing but a bluff of a hit. You were then greeted by an obnoxious chuckle before he landed a successful sneak to your head, a hit impactful enough to rattle your knees and knock a scoff out of you.

“Be observant. I punch better with my—”

Another swing to his left cheek. Successful, and harder this time, as it managed to stumble him from his stance. You could feel the impact of your fist on Dick, even if it was cushioned by foam. 

It was exhilarating.

“Fight better with your mouth closed too.” You spat, raising your arm to strike the same cheek again. Dick detected it before you could attack, and ducked lower to the right, where he met a sudden fist to his jaw, a calculative undercut that sent him falling onto his back.

“Shit—“

Something unleashed in you. The red in your vision had scorched, burned blue as it reached its highest temperature. You immediately seized the opportunity to straddle him, to face the source of your belittlement, to look at the leader that everyone on your team had silently wish you were, that everyone had admired, to somehow stare and pierce him long enough with your eyes that you were able to tear into his body and take his incredible abilities and mold them into your own, becoming that someone that you had undoubtedly admired as well. 

You threw another blow to his face, enough to knock a groan out of him. It was pleasing to your ears, the low trembles of his voice because of your touch, they twitched with gratitude. But you needed more, a beg from Dick, a plea for you to stop. You threw another punch, and then another as you became blinded by rage. It was out of your control, your arms had a mind of their own as they continued wailing on Dick, even if he had shielded himself with his arms for the last minute now.

You breathed hard, tossing your gloves off as you held him down for a stronger grip and prying his arms from his face. A need to touch him, to feel the impact that your gloves had been restraining you from. You pinned him by his bare and sweaty shoulders that made the grasp all the more slippery, but you nonetheless held him anywhere you could, by his biceps now, and stared into him. You peered into those brown eyes that mysteriously settled your fury until you’d succumb to the beautiful tranquility of his orbs, quietly pacific compared to his mouth.

Dick’s chest was rising. Up and down like your own, recovering from the pummeling you had given him. His eyes were widened as he watched you—studied you. No marks on his face, thankfully due to the cushions you were begging to be replaced with stone a tantrum prior. 

It was humiliating to prove him right, about your emotions, and you sat still, on his lap, breathing. Your fists had stripped you of the little energy you had left, and turned it into mush, but you found support in the warmth of Dick’s body, still breathing. Your grasp had loosened, but remained on his biceps. Warm skin, and ever slightly kneading because of your own envy of Dick’s strength.

You felt your eyes closed, shutting yourself off of the supply of Dick’s silent consolation as the adrenaline pumping through your veins had slowed. “I can never be you, can I?”

“Who says you have to?” Finally, Dick’s voice hadn’t grated your ears like it had in the past. It was gentle as ever, but this time, there was a warmth to it that you wished you could be bundled up in if it had a physical body. A spirit that could temper you with just its warmth, rather than the toxic heat that had just boiled your rage.

“Because—they’ve seen you, Grayson. They know how you operate with the Titans. I can see it, you know? The way they look at you, then the way they look at me. It’s just…”

“You know, my team looked at me like that when they saw how Bats ran the Justice League.” 

“With disgust? Contempt? Disdain? All of the above?”

“No,” He laughed, gathering himself half-way up with the support his elbows. “with... relief?”

“That’s… not helping?” You rolled your eyes, and then felt yourself flush upon coming to realization upon your current position on his lap when he sat halfway up. “Sorry—“ Without making eye contact, you brought yourself off Dick’s hips, but found yourself suddenly pulled back by the waist.

“No, no. What I meant was…” He cleared his throat, sitting up as he positioned you back on his lap again. His hands interlocked against the small of your back, a devise to keep you from abandoning him on the lone mat, but to also pull you closer, hip to hip. 

“Batman… is impressive. You’ve seen him, right? How he has this presence that automatically appoints him as leader. Commander, really. I don’t know anyone that can plan better than him, but that’s not to say that he doesn’t have his faults. He’s all business, little relations. So are the others. You’ve seen them too. Supes, the Lanterns. I respect it. They respect him because of that, and vice versa. But… that’s not how my team works. Not the Titans.”

“I see…” You shifted, nodding every now and then as you listened.

“It’s just… My members are more than co-workers, you know? This isn’t some nine-to-five job that you’ll probably quit after five years. It’s… our lives now. And with them, they’re with me every step of the way. So, they’re more than co-workers. You don’t protect co-workers. Not saying the Justice League don’t care about each other… But what you do protect are friends, families. Yeah, they’re my family, so I treat them as such. And maybe… that’s why they seemed relieved they were part of my team. And…”

“I just have to find what works with my team?”

“Yeah. I mean, you guys are just starting out. Everyone’s still adapting, still getting to know each other, still figuring out each other’s powers, right? Things are bound to be a little more destructive in terms of chemistry.”

“I don’t know… I just… I don’t know if I can lead them like you guys can. I’m not like you guys. In terms of skills, in terms of leadership, in terms of—“

“Then work on that with your team. That’s what a good leader does, they seek out help from their teammates and let them know that their opinions and help are valued.”

It sounded absolutely simple. Something that shouldn’t have taken you this long to figure out, but Dick was right. Rather than seeking for your team’s help, you thought you had to endure whatever situation had arisen on your own. It weighted heavily on your shoulders, until you couldn’t muster up the strength to push your own weight. And in turn, that affected your team. You needed them, just as much as they needed you. 

“And here you are…” Dick continued, suddenly bursting with a smile. “Instead of spending time with your team, you’re with me. I know I’m quite charming, but geez, (M/N), can a guy get some alone time?”

You scoffed and lightly punched at his chest. “Did we forget that you were the one joining me in the gym when you have your own in the tower? Copying my every move? What’s up with that?”

He shrugged, kneading nonchalantly at your sides. “Knew you’d be alone. Knew you were probably blaming yourself, moping around. Thought I would give you a little push.”

You shifted again, your hands keeping close to yourself as you couldn’t muster up the strength to complain about his wandering hands.

Or rather, find anything about his hands to complain about.

“Push as in to annoy me?”

“Well, I was supposed to be teaching you some things, but, uh… you were playing whack-a-mole with my head earlier.” 

“That’s because—“ You sighed, dropping your head low in embarrassment. “Sorry. I don’t know. Everything started happening so fast and—“

“No, it’s fine. It gives me the perfect opportunity to introduce you my first lesson of the week.” He was sincere, smiling up at you, almost as if he had mistaken your brief fit of rage as a game of tag.

“What’s that?” You asked, meeting his eyes once again.

He pondered for a moment,, pursing his lips as he was lost within his thoughts before speaking again. “How To Communicate To Your Team 101.”

“How is that even going to—“

You felt a sudden press to your lips. A softness that awakened your five senses by tenfold, and a desire that you had kept vaulted in the back of your mind; now beginning to unlock to its freedom the longer Dick had his lips on you. It wasn’t right. No, it wasn’t like it was morally wrong, it was just…

You hesitated, conjuring up all the reasons in your head on why kissing Dick wasn’t a good idea. But it was futile. Everything had been resolved within this moment; the way he let you use him like a punching bag, the way he didn’t spare a single second to share his empathy for your concerns, the way he tended to your wounds days prior despite your brazen disregard to his kindness. 

You were being selfish again, guarding yourself off with ice like you had done with the others. When in reality, you wanted him. 

No, you desperately needed him.

You felt him open up his mouth, assuming he was about to speak, but you seized his breath with a slot of your lips, and kissed him. One hand came up to rest on his cheek, to finally feel the slight scruffs you had delivered on his skin, and you caressed tenderly across textured skin, to the slow rhythm of your lips, whispering, “Sorry… again.”

“Don’t be. Without it, you wouldn’t have been on my lap. And… I wouldn’t be kissing you right now.” Dick muttered, a satisfaction to his voice like he had gotten his wish fulfilled. He ran a lone hand up your back, then back down your spine, bone tingling once he repeated again under your hoodie, and gazed across your bare skin.

“What are you doing to me…” It was a genuine question, something you wished could be answered because you didn’t know yourself. And yet, you were scared of the answer if Dick was to ever give you one. It’d been a while since you felt like this, with someone else.

For the past few months, you hated him. Couldn’t stand the sight of him. And now, you feel like you couldn’t tear yourself apart from him. From the softness of his lips and to the warmth of his body; the longer you endured him, the more you realized you had been captivated by Dick all along.

“I don’t know, but… I like figuring you out.” Dick’s speech was slurred from dragging his lips down to your jaw, nipping at your sweaty skin. “Like how you push me away, but you can’t help but tolerate me whenever I’m in the room.” He breathed you in, sucking at the corner of the sharp bone. You pressed your head into his neck, silently letting him take you. “How you’d sneak glances at me and roll your eyes, only to keep on staring… and staring… until you hadn’t realized that I was looking back at you. Because you were too busy looking at me.”

Nothing but the truth came out Dick’s mouth. Remarkably candid, because you thought you were more covert about your conflicting feelings for him. It brought a bloom of heat to your cheeks, and you hid your face inside his neck, groaning because Dick began licking at your neck, and because you felt stripped, absolutely vulnerable.

“Dick…” Something was rising in your shorts, tightened around the center. Warm and pulsing, even when Dick had unzipped your hoodie and thrown them to the side. A chill was felt across your bare back, most likely a draft from the vent, and Dick held you closer, sandwiching the heat, and suddenly your erection, between his body and yours.

“I knew you never hated me.” There was something about your chest that he loved. How smooth it felt. A few hairs had grown at the center, raised from the feelings Dick was supplying to your body. They tickled his cheek whenever he rubbed himself against it until they were then flattened with a long, fluttering lick as he maintained eye contact with you. “Always right.”

The taste of your sweat was salty yet delicate on his tongue.

“Hate is a strong word...” Your fingers threaded through Dick’s locks, scrunching them into your fist when he started toying one nipple at a time with his tongue. The wet muscle flicked deftly, then he suckled, and then tugged, like he had known your body, like he had explored your body before. It was strange, how he knew the right thing to say, and the right thing to do.

Maybe he was ‘always right.’

“Whatever it is, it’s not stopping you right now.” His hands dropped to the waistband of your shorts and he pulled away from your swollen nubs. It was unwilling. You could see it in his eyes, the thirst to ruin, and it compelled him to bring another suck to your nipples, a few seconds more that almost pulled a dangerous whimper out of you before he ultimately paused. “Nor is it stopping me.” 

With a gentle push on your chest, he leaned you back onto the mat while lifting your hips up, smoothly sliding your shorts off. They joined the pile containing your hoodie soon after, and then your briefs to top.

“R-right here? Aren’t there cameras or something…?” Your hands instinctively came down to cover yourself, cupping that embarrassing erection that Dick was thirsting for. The head of your cock peeked out from your clumsy gasp, and his hands instantly came up to pry your hands off.

Dick had that same look in his eyes when he was circling around you earlier. A rapacity blaring the pupil of his eyes. His piercing gaze alone kept your hands from coming up to cover yourself again. You knew you wouldn’t stand a chance against his strength.

“I doubt anyone is watching the gym… Private for a reason.” Your legs were then wrapped around his waist after pulling you by the ankles. His presence was commanding. You knew to keep your arms to your side, hands forbidden from obstructing the view of your hard, throbbing cock.

“No wonder you’re so stressed. Look how hard you are.” Dick muttered, seemingly speaking his inner thoughts because he was too distracted by the veins of your erection. Thick and pulsing as he wrapped a hand around you, and stroked, fascinated by the stretch of foreskin unfolding from the head of your cock when he pulled back, then rolling back up when he pulled forward. “This okay?”

“Fuck—Yeah… Feels good.” One arm was raised to wipe the cold sweat off your forehead,  but it then rested against your forehead, shielding yourself from Dick’s gaze as he slowly pumped you back into breaking another round of sweat.

“No,” He paused, suddenly squeezing your foreskin over the tip of your swollen glans. You whimpered. Not only did he squeeze you tight, stripping you of a friction that you desperately had been needing more of. But Dick was teasing, threatening with the dull movement of his thumb as he pressed and rubbed into the fold of skin, polishing the head of your cock  in a thick sheen of pre-cum as his grip would draw out a generous amount from beneath. “I want to see you properly. Look at me.”

You reluctantly met his demands, only after you felt the tip of his thumb prying into your slit. Was this supposed to be a punishment? Because you could’ve allowed it to go on for longer, knowing how much Dick marveled at how much pre-cum you were leaking out.

Your body felt hot, and your hands—they needed something to hold, something to grip. When Dick began resorting to quicker strokes to your cock, you were clawing at the mat at first, etching your presence with indentations of your nails as your warning came in vain. “I’m going to cum if you keep doing that, Dick—“ 

“Use your words I’m telling you.” He spat in his palm after a millisecond of a break before lubing your cock in his own spit and churning you into the tight, yet slippery friction of his fist. Dick’s gaze had been fixated on you, never once had it torn away to look at something else. Not even a peek at your cock deliciously fucking into his fist. Because in case you forgot, he liked figuring you out. “Gotta communicate with me.”

The stoicism you had worn with pride, only ever fragmenting from anger upon defeat; Dick had discovered another facet to its escalating submission, and it was delightful watching you unravel in real-time. The slick of his hands; one beating off your cock while the other massaging your balls; your expressions had given yourself away on how to break you down. Maybe it was because you had given up keeping up the facade. Or maybe it was because it was Dick, who has done more than enough to earn your trust, that you found yourself nearly crumbling.

He had studied you, his hands continuing to wander, explore every part of you while silently cataloging the right spots to make you crack. You were close, hanging off the edge with one hand, nails dulling over a cliff as you desperately prevented gravity from pulling you down under. When his hand had left your balls in favor of suddenly pushing a finger inside of your tight hole, Dick knew you had completely submitted.

Your body was writhing, hips desperately thrusting in the air despite Dick pinning them down to properly stretch your hole and fill you up with another finger, and another. Your expressions were ravishing, conflicted with pleasure and tension, and your mouth opened to politely tell Dick to stop, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to utter the demand. Instead, all that came out of your mouth was a whimper of his name, a stutter that rang delectably in Dick’s ears when he interrupted you with a deep push of his fingers, curling and then pumping in and out of you, and another whimper would secure the deft removal of the rest of his shorts and briefs. All because he couldn’t contain himself anymore. 

He had absolutely no right to teach you about control, for the reason that he was on the brink of losing it himself. You looked absolutely wrecked, all from the stubborn grip around your cock, the tight fit of his fingers, and Dick couldn’t imagine what you’d look like if he was in you, his thick cock fucking you, making love to you.

“Seriously, Dick—I’m about to—“

You couldn’t help it. Dick’s demand to control yourself was absolutely absurd with his reign on your body. The wet, sticky sound his spit made as Dick’s fist was being screwed by your pulsing cock drove you nuts. And then came the view of Dick’s thick cock, throbbing, pre-cum dripping heavily off of his swollen head as he watched you untouched, begging to be touched. You swore you almost surrendered had it not been for his wrist slowing down, a delicacy you begged prior, but now desperately wanted to vanish.

“God, you know I always loved it whenever you accidentally let a smile slip. But this? You’re so beautiful like this, (M/N).” He paused despite your silent pleas for him to otherwise. Though, all was forgiven when he leaned forward to kiss you on the lips. Sweet and bountiful like his words had made you feel, and you kissed him right back, an eagerness compared to his own movements, but then gratefully countered with an impatient swipe at your crack. His cock, plump and heavy, then wet and sticky as he smeared his pre-cum over your hole. Your legs remained wrapped around his hips, but Dick pushed his body weight forward until they folded with your knees touching your chest, his cock dangerously pressing at your entrance.

Dick spat in his palm again, reaching down to coat himself in the sticky layer of spit, and you felt him press. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, anticipating with an accelerating drum of your heart as he teased, slicking your pucker with the gentle, smooth circling of his tip.

“Please… I need it.” You had a gentle grasp around his nape, pulling him down until his forehead rested against yours. You’ve never seen him like this, so up-close and intimate. A mole, a freckle on his face that you’d never noticed, and you instantly yearned for what could’ve been all this time, had it not been for your stubbornness.

“What do you need? You need me inside of you?” Dick clarified against your lips, a whisper into your mouth as you parted them open to welcome his tongue. Hot and heavy, you let your tongue wrap around his for a tingling moment before pulling away, a string of spit webbing a path between your lips and his. “Use your words.”

“Need your cock, need you… Need everything. As long as it’s you.” You marveled at Dick, drunk off of the mutual endearment you have for each other. He regarded you with a warm smile, followed by a dazzling glint within his gaze, then relayed the turn of his mouth to yours with another kiss, a gentle warning, before Dick pushed his hips forward and slipped his cock inside of you.

“Good boy.”

“O-oh, fuck.” 

Your body tensed as soon as you took the first inhale of breath since he’d breached you, sharp and abrupt, just like the pain that had jolted the muscles in your body to squeeze around him. You were playing defense, impeding the foreign introduction inside of your body with a clamp, yet Dick resisted. Rather, he thrived on your strain, adoring the suctioning feeling of his cock as if you were conflicted about inviting him in or pushing him out. It didn’t take much to figure out that it was the former. During the meantime you were adjusting to his cock, Dick was thrusting the few inches that had slid inside of you. Small and short movements to aid in your stretch, and then eventual pleasure as he gradually pushed himself deeper until you’d blossom completely open for him, like a bud in the Spring.

“Fuck, you’re so tight… So good, your ass is so good.” He was satisfied with half of his cock inside of you, rocking into you slowly until you felt comfortable enough to have him harder, faster. Till then, it was perfect like this. Breathing in your whimpers, holding your face like it was the last vestige of your sanity, before kissing you again, sweet on the mouth, tender with your tongue, to hold a fragment of your sanity within him and sealing it where no one could ever take it from him.

“T-too big, Dick—Fuck…” You whimpered again, closing your eyes from the uncomfortable detection of already feeling completely full, yet you and Dick both knew it wasn’t a complaint. Rather, it was a simple observation that had rendered you speechless, an inkling you’d disappoint Dick for not being able to take him properly, to not let him in like you had done for all these months.

“You’re doing great, baby. Doing so good… You can take it, I know you can.” His words were so warm, so kind, so gentle in your ear, low and sinking in your neck as he marked you as his with constant licks and kisses, and immediately, he dialed up your confidence by tenfold. You felt yourself relaxing, the tension in your body melting the longer he rocked half of his cock into you.

Just breathe. Breathe. You found it helpful following Dick’s breathing pattern, exhaling when he pulled out, inhaling when he pushed in, and gradually, you felt yourself opening up for him, taking him in longer strides, with little breaks, faster, harder, until you felt thoroughly plugged when he pushed once more to cork his cock inside of you, balls-deep.

“S-shit, Dick—Fuck—So good—“

Dick trembled with a moan sinking into the underside of your jaw. His cock had never felt so wanted, so warm in another’s body. You took him in without a single complaint, and it was a spectacle, an absolute wonder when Dick leaned back to watch himself completely unsheathe out of you like a dagger out of its scabbard. 

“Look at that… Fucking beautiful.” Your hole was gaped open with the diameter matching the girth of Dick’s cock. Blinking, puckering desperately as it painfully endured the loss of heat, the loss of his desire. You’d never felt so exposed, completely powerless as Dick had you bending your legs further back with one hand, and the other spreading your cheeks apart to further see how much more you could stretch. 

The color of your flesh was enthralling, and if the marks on your neck had not been telling that you were Dick’s; he pressed a kiss to your pucker, gentle nibbling and licking at the puffy rim before abruptly spitting inside of you, and another for good measure, the glorious designation would remind you now.

“Dick—No more, I need you, please—“ You reached down to spread your pucker with the spit dribbling out of you using two fingers, then pulled back to taste him, sucking on them before your craving for Dick would return with a vengeance, body-writhing and mind-numbingly so.

“Tell me. What do you need, hm?” Dick tapped his cock against your hole. The plump head slid smooth over the spit-covered flesh, mixing with his pre-cum, while he watched you with a grin, each swipe of his cock taunting to pull completely away unless you spoke.

“Need you. Inside of me. Fucking me. Holding me. Kissing me. Touching. I don’t know—Please, please. Just need you.” Your wishes were long-winded, but sincere. The gaze you had given him, an imploring look that Dick would take a moment to hold for a little longer despite your begging.  Cherishing it, not knowing if this would be a fluke you’d later regret down the line, but in the end, all that mattered was that  you let your guards down at the mercy of Dick’s guidance. Then utterly defenseless, when he gave into your wishes, a chaste kiss to your lips while doing so, and pushed himself deep inside of you with one smooth thrust.

You stiffened in Dick’s arms when they slipped around you, digging your nails into his skin. Squeezing his waist with your legs, you held onto him when he pushed the rest of his body weight over you, bending you further while keeping his lips connected to yours. He was stabilized on the tip of his toes, thrusting into, past, and against your inner muscles all at once. You clenched around his cockhead, the pleasure unbearable to resist as each dip of his hip successfully knocked a gasp from your mouth. 

“So good, so tight like this…” Dick’s cock was in heaven, burying you deep until his heavy balls pressed flushed to your taint. He would stay motionless whenever he did; to catch up on his breath, to draw out his nearing high for a little longer, and to feel you, luxuriate in the warmth of your walls squeezing him tight, pulsing with dilemma, and ultimately refusing to let go. “Think I can come just like this, you squeezing my cock…”

He looked down at your face, a brief check-up. Your lips moved as if you were about to say something, but no sound came out. Only a stutter of a gasp, little sounds that Dick found incredibly magnetic, to which he found increasingly difficult to keep his lips off of you. He failed with little effort on his end, in hopes to steal those tiny sounds and keep it for himself. 

Your pupils were blown when they weren’t rolling back from the smallest movement of Dick’s hips. In addition, with your lips swollen and lids heavy, you gazed up at Dick like he had saved your life, as if he had guided you towards a better place. Your life seemingly were in his hands as he held your cheeks and kissed you once more. Sweet again, rocking into you steadily, sweat sticking his skin to yours. 

And maybe he did.

“Say something. I want to hear you.” A merciful demand upon your lips. You were trembling, barely swallowing down moans while Dick continuously impaled you with his cock—up into you now, when Dick leaned back until he was sitting up, and brought you back onto his lap like before, pushing your hips towards the rate of his thrusts.

Mesmerized by Dick, your mouth parted open and your throat immediately began emptying itself of all the harbored moans and groans that you had been holding hostage. “F-fuck me, keep fucking me. L-like that. No—Harder, harder—“ They rattled in volume, bouncing in sync with the way your ass had been doing against Dick’s cock, and then louder, because your marvelous sounds emerged an addiction out of Dick.

Sweet Jesus. He couldn’t stop. Watching the desire in your beautiful features, hearing your pleas reflect your want, stroking your cock awaiting for its release, marking every flesh of your skin his mouth had come in contact with. At the level of intimacy; from the pull of Dick’s hair, the sloppy, open-mouthed kisses you two shared, and the mutual passion you had for each other; you no longer felt like his disciple, but rather, an equal to Dick’s being—a derivative blessing, that would course correct each other’s life.

Your hands could barely hold onto his shoulders, but you worked with your strength, the slip of his skin, and locked your hands around his nape. Forehead to forehead, you and Dick breathed moans into each other, heavy and thick with yearning as you two pressed close, stuck to each other like glue. He cataloged the tiniest details on how your face contorted with pleasure; the scrunch of your nose, the roll of your eyes, the part of your lips. Your fist tightened around your cock, pumping it rapidly to the pace of Dick’s thrusts, churning it until your biceps had distractingly flared with veins. 

You did the same. You watched Dick’s mouth agape with rapture. The scrunch of his brows when he fucked into you faster and to the root. The clench of his jaw when you squeezed tight around him, suctioning his cock until he sounded delirious with pleasure. It was beautiful. He was beautiful, and you knew he found you beautiful as well, the beautiful loss of reality from the mutual pleasure, and that was all it took to make you spill your load without a single warning. 

You smashed a guttural groan to his lips and unraveled your fingers, leaning your body back to let your cock release where it pleased to afterward. “Oh, fuck—“ 

“Holy shit.”

Thick shots rained on Dick’s sweaty body. Three spurts to the center of his chiseled chest, and then another four splashing high in the air when Dick powered up on the sight of your cum alone, and drilled you harder, your cock dribbling in cum as he did so. His nails dug into your ass cheeks, spreading them apart, then cushioning them back around his cock to somehow press your walls against every vein pulsing through the thick of his erection.

Dick fucked you like you’d begged him to. Long, strong thrusts, to the brim on each stroke, undoubtedly hitting your prostate at every turn from the way you would jolt forward with widened, rattling, yet blissful eyes. A sight Dick would have forever ingrained into his memory, because you were officially, utterly, and completely wrecked.

It was heaven. The crown of Dick’s cock sliding over the spot, the depth of his cock rendering you immobile and dazed. Again, he’d repeat. A new addiction, surging powerfully through his veins. You let out a sob. 

Again. You squeezed your eyes shut. 

Again. You dug your nails into his shoulders. 

And again. Dick smacked your ass at the delirious state he was in. He had completely breached inside of you, explored every inch of your hole with the circle of his hips. A thrust. A slam. A rut. He had traversed through every option to dismantle you, and like clockwork, your snug hole all but sucked on his cock, begging for him to come inside.

He couldn’t hold it anymore.

“Baby, baby…” Dick’s large hand smothered his warmth around your throat. You could feel the callous in his palm, a gentle abrasion to your smooth skin, and he rubbed your seed all over your body, then his. He fucked harder to the sight of the sticky sheen layering your body. The smell of musk. The stick to his hands. Filthy. Your body and his were filthy together. Filthier, when pleasure burst from the base of his shaft, and in turn, flooded your insides with a large load. He moaned, and you arched into him, into the stick of his body, anticipating for the rupture of your doing. 

Your cock throbbed once, straining forward with its swollen head aiming towards the ceiling, and you spat thick shots of white seed into the air, eventually course-correcting to land on your body and Dick’s.

It was wonderful. You could feel Dick’s cock pulse as his seed rushed up the shaft and buried you deep into your guts with thick and heavy shots. Upon impulse, you squeezed as well, clamping around the peak of DIck’s orgasm until it must have crested with the stillness of his breath. “Don’t pull out.”

“Wasn’t planning on it…”

If he hadn’t thought it enough, you were beautiful, he was keen on calling it a mantra because it meant that he was still here, on this very earth, breathing and witnessing your very existence. Your body was weakened, barely mustering the strength to hold your chest up without the aid of Dick’s arms around you. Limp, after your second orgasm. All of you, you were so beautiful. From your rim hugging the base of your cock, your softening cock dripping, your swollen nipples, the smooth planes of your cum-stained chest, and parted lips. You were a banquet to Dick’s eyes, a feast that could muster up another around to have at you, to have you completely devoured if he had really wanted to.

But no, this was perfect. Watching you in silence, surveying up at you while you peered down at him, panting, breathing slow, in a case of wonder of how one could have such an effect on him without a morsel of effort. 

“So… lessons? You always do this to new recruits?”

“Only if they absolutely suck at their role.” An exhaustion in his smile, you wanted to capture it in between your lips, and replenish him with gratitude.

“Hey— Asshole…” You muttered, a gentle knock to his chest, to which he laughed off, and then held on, to pull you in for a blissful kiss.

With the way you fit into his arms as if you’d always been meant to be there, warm where he was cold, and cold where you were warm, he knew he didn’t need his question answered.

“Kidding. Let’s just say… it was curated for a special someone. And hopefully, they liked it as much as I liked teaching it.”

“I have a good feeling that they did.” 

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

#✰ : nou.fics #dick grayson x male reader #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson fic #dick grayson imagine #x male reader #dc x male reader #male reader #m!reader #dick grayson x m!reader #x you #x reader #nightwing x male reader #nightwing x reader #nightwing fic #nightwing x m!reader #dc x reader #dc comics fanfiction #dc fanfic #✰ : nou.dickgrayson #✰ : nou.dc

[angelltheninth]

Soft Dom!Dick Grayson Talks You Through an Orgasm

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, fingering, cunnilingus, soft sex, dirty talk, orgasm guidance

A/N: Hope this makes your day a bit better @thewritingdoll!

"Feel like I'm not being fair to you tonight sweetie. Or am I the problem? Not doing a good enough job seems like." There was an equal amount humor and genuine insecurity written over Dick's face as he slowly thrust his hips back and forth, his cum spraying the bed went back and forth.

"I'm okay. You're sweet but I guess..." You sighed, holding him closer and leaning your chin against his sweaty shoulder, "I'm just a little stressed tonight that's all. I'm can still make you feel good can't I? You came three times already, care to go for a fourth?"

He pressed his lips together in a thin line, his eyebrows scrunching together, "No."

"No? Why?" Now you sounded disappointed, he was enjoying himself just a little while ago, your pussy aching and being full of his cum was proof of that. You winced as he pulled out, his hand cupping between your legs immediately, letting the cum flow over his hand, coating his fingers and the bed.

There was definitely an ache and an uncomfortable pressure lingering between legs as he pulled out. Dick's feature softened, looking at you with sorry eyes. His hands started running up and down your inner thighs, slowly lifting them up and settling in between them. His fingers pressed and spread against your folds in a V shape, rubbing you up and down before letting them dip all the way inside.

"Tonight was supposed to be about you." His fingers slowly dragged low whimpers and sighs from you. Just one well timed curl upwards made you moan his name and tighten up on him, "Better. You can give me one can't you, or do you need more help baby?" Dick's eyes looked at you, hooded with desire as his tongue licked, swirled and prodded against your pussy. "So sweet. Stop holding out on me, let me taste you more."

"I'm not." You could feel the heat steadily building against the press of his tongue on your clit, he wasn't holding you at all, you were free to raise your hips against him, let your body shake and convulse from the aggravating pulsing heat coming from inside your body.

"A little more help then." His lips pursed around your clit and sucked it against his tongue before he pulled back and tapped against it, his hand moving faster between your legs, "You're almost there sweetheart. Just a little more. Let me see that beautiful face when you come. Won't you let me have my fill of you?"

Your eyes shined with frustrated tears as you pushed his head down and started rubbing against his face, his tongue hitting your clit every time, "Dick, pleasepleaseplease!" Your body snapped like a bow, your toes digging into the bed as your back arched off it in, mouth and eyes open in ecstasy.

"Easy babe, I've got you, just let go, trust me to catch you." His free hand pressed against your lower back in support, rubbing and easing you back down. You whimpered from the sweet release, vision blurry and legs twitching around him, cunt pulsing on his tongue and around his fingers. "Want me to stay like this for a bit." All you could do was nod, your vocal cords feeling raw and used. "Okay. Whatever you need." He kissed your until you calmed down, careful to avoid your overstimulated clit, "Whatever you need."

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #nightwing #nightwing x reader #dick grayson smut #nightwing smut #dc comics #dc comics x reader #dc comics fanfiction #dc comics smut #dc comics imagine #titans #titans x reader #titans fanfiction #titans smut #dick grayson x female!reader #nightwing x female!reader

[sharkksee]

A LITTLE DEATH !

──── Damian Al Ghul x Reader. 571 words.

Living after dying was too expensive a price that everyone avoided, because anyone would not be able to continue or repent when the effects of madness came. Everyone who has ever been revived in that well may never be the same again, Damian knew this very well, he has seen it with his own eyes.

The Lazarus Pit was too dangerous. They could use it on soldiers to keep the League of Shadows standing, not use it on loved ones. Using the grave of someone you love is like a death note delivered in front of the devil, on shaking knees. But the loneliness, the guilt, accumulated on him.

He let your inert body sink into the waters, freeing your death to the forces that his grandfather abused. It was a nightmare to see you like this, reminding him that he couldn't save you.

How did he fail like this? He is the heir of the Al Ghul, the blood of the deaths of his origins wells up in his veins. How did your death pass over him?

He can't allow it. No. He forbids you, in life and soul, to agonize in his presence, to abandon him and release him. You have to be with him, he won't let you even fall into the arms of death.

His eyes move over you, as he is always very curious about you. He is fascinated by your body, your curves, and the way the water covers your contours so softly on your fatal wounds. The gaze lingers on your soft, kissable lips, and he longs for the taste of your return. He wants to taste the sweetness of your lips with his. He longs for you, because he needs you. Damian will have wealth, soldiers, weapons, blood. But not having you is like a curse.

Soft, slow breathing is heard. The little chest goes up and down, in and out, in and out. But he doesn't move, not even a muscle, while he's listening to your every heartbeat from the edge of the Lazarus Pit.

Your body begins to react to the effects of the immortal waters, and he looked at you serenely. His hands clenched into knuckles, wishing for your own soul to be saved. Your fingers begin to move, and your body reacts, wanting to escape the waters as soon as you opened the eyes that Damian had loved so much from beneath the waters.

He gently lifts you into his arms and lifts you out of the water, feeling the living heat radiating from your body. He looks at you, intently, attentive to everything about you as he wraps his arms around your body tightly, not wanting you to escape from him.

“Beloved,” Damian whispers, his voice a hoarse but reassuring whisper. He feels your heartbeat. Oh, God. Your heart is beating, your lungs are breathing, your blood is reviving. He smiles slightly, noticing that you have calmed down from the waters and understand every part of what happened.

“I won't let you go… Again,” Damian whispers, almost to himself, holding you tighter, burying himself in your shoulder.

He can sense that you are agitated, your mind processing your return to life, wanting to ask. But the simple, cold gaze of those emerald orbs warn you to remain silent, like before you lost your life.

“I forbid you to leave me again.” He hissed, his breath now hitting your ear, sending shivers down your spine. He can't lose his favorite toy.

#batboys x reader #damian wayne x reader #batfam #dc robin #dc x reader #damian al ghul #damian wayne #damian x reader #dc comics #dc fanfic #dc oneshot #damian al ghul x reader #damian wayne al ghul #robin damian #batfamily #lazarus pit #damian wayne robin #al ghul family #dc #dc comics fanfiction #after death #dc comics robin #robin dc comics #robin #batman and robin #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x y/n #damian al ghul x you #damian al ghul x y/n #batman

[cas-backwards-tie]

Heiress Of Gotham Masterlist

Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Summary: After the sudden loss of your mother to mysterious circumstances, you’re claimed by a father you didn’t know you had: Bruce Wayne. If it isn’t bad enough that you’re complete strangers to one another, your world is flipped upside down with all the changes said to come with the Wayne name. What’s worse is that you’re not so sure your mother’s death was an accident.

Warnings: Angst, Anti-Police themes, Cursing, Depression themes, Negativity, Numbness, Disassociation, Depression, Existentialism, Cursing, Misandry, Crying, Suicidal Thoughts (if u squint), Yelling, Outbursts, Injury, Blood, Catcalling, Threats, Funeral, Knives, Fighting, Panic Attacks, Shame, Guilt, Fight or Flight, Spying, Voyeurism, Flirting

Mentions of: Death, Suicide, Body Fluids, Bodies, Sex Trafficking, Criminal Activities, Drug Busts, Prostitution, Assassins,

Part One Chapters: Seed Uprooted | Cruel New World | Memories Embarked | Desolate Days | Threatened to Reset | Summer of a Lifetime | Uncharted Territory | Reckless Decisions & Dancing | Fake Dates & Milkshakes | Revenge and Retribution

#heiress of gotham #heiress of gotham masterlist #hog #hog masterlist #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #dad!bruce wayne #daughter!reader #batfam series #batfam x reader series #dad!bruce wayne x daughter!reader #dc comics reader insert #dcu reader insert #dc comics fanfiction #dcu fanfiction #batfam x sibling!reader #jason todd x sister!reader #batfam x sister!reader #dick grayson x sister!reader #tim drake x sister!reader #damian wayne x sister!reader #billy batson x reader #billy batson x batsis!reader

[ivorydragoness44]

Jason Todd x Reader: All Clear

Word Count: 385 Warnings/Notes/Summary: Established relationship. The Reader and Jason wake up to a loud noise, startling them. Jason searches for the cause of the disturbance, but it is the Reader who finds the unlikely and harmless source.

~~~~  ~~~~  ~~~~  ~~~~

 Sleep did not always come easy. There were times when thoughts raced or the littlest of sounds were too much.  Under the covers that night, you rested. Sleep was as calm as the person within arm’s reach. The quiet city noises outside hardly registered any more than white noise to your ears.  BANG!  Eyelids flashed open, wide awake to the pounding panic of your heart. Arms pulled you close and dragged you down off of the side of the bed. Quickly, yet gently, you were pushed and urged under the bed.

  You rolled over to face him, and he brought his index finger up to his lips. Frowning, you watched as he got up, your eyes tracking his socked feet cautiously prowl around the open space of his apartment.  Near the windows, with a brush of the curtains, he grumbled. Flicking on a light, there was a pause before he spoke.  “All clear,” Jason announced.  Crawling out from underneath the bed, you stood and readjusted your pajamas. You looked around the room briefly as Jason was inspecting his collection displayed on the wall.  “You heard it too, right?” He asked as you stepped over to him.  “Yeah,” you said, hugging onto his arm, “and it was loud.”  Sighing, he kissed the top of your head. “It’s too quiet. I’m going to suit up and check around the perimeter—the…about a block out.”  “Alright,” you yawned, pushing off of him; momentum almost nonexistent. “I’m already up, so I might as well use the bathroom.”  “Sounds like a plan,” he chuckled.

  Flipping on the bathroom light, your eyes landed on the tile of the shower wall. Something seemed off; missing. Stepping closer, you saw it.  “Hey, Jay?” You called out, maintaining a curious tone as to not alarm him. “I found the culprit.”  With a look of utter confusion, Jason walked in. Beckoning him with a quick tilt of your head, he made his way toward the tub.  “Really?” He stared at the fallen shower caddy with soap and other hair-care bottles scattered in the tub. “That’s what made that noise?”  “Yep.”  He sighed. “I’ll deal with that in the morning.”  “Sounds like a plan,” you smirked.  “I’m going back to sleep.”  You laughed lightly at his retreating form. “I’ll join you soon.”  “I hope so.”

~~~~  ~~~~

Thank you for reading! If you’d like, check out my other Jason Todd/Red Hood fanfics on my masterlists.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #wfa jason todd #jason todd fanfiction #dc comics fanfiction #insert reader #red hood x reader #red hood fanfiction #ivorydragoness44

[fandomnerd9602]

Sneaky

Enchantress x Reader

3.5K Follower Special

Your love is a strange one. Technically the one you’d call the love of your life is a corporeal being currently possessing you.

Originally the Enchantress possessed a doctor named June Moon. But you were working with Task Force X before it officially became what it was. The Enchantress was smitten. She was constantly trying to take control of June just to see you.

Needless to say Colonel Rick Flagg was not happy. So you made a deal with the Enchantress, she’d leave June and Rick alone and come possess you instead.

An odd little arrangement but Enchantress loves occupying your body. She loves whispering words of affirmation in your ear when you’re on duty. You love the slight little feeling you get when she gives you a ghost kiss.

It’s now closer to All Hallows’ Eve. You were tired and worn out from all the paperwork that Waller slammed on your desk. Waller hated that Enchantress was in you instead of Moon but it keeps a class A threat docile. Enchantress could only whisper her usual words of encouragement and occasionally focus her ghostly form just to gently pet your hand. What you didn’t know was that your corporeal girlfriend was forming a little idea in her witchy mind.

You trudges through the door of your little apartment and nearly collapse on your couch.

Head to the mirror. Enchantress gently commands you. Please my love

You roll your eyes but head to the closest mirror. Your ghost of a witch girlfriend materializes, a gentle sway in her hips as she smiles at you.

Oh my love, you work so hard today.

“I know” you shrug, “but it’s better than being stuck behind bars”

Her ethereal hands glide across your reflection’s chest and arms. Surprisingly you feel every little gentle caress.

Relax. Her ghostly form kisses your cheek. Let me tend to you. A queen is nothing without her consort.

She smiles at you before venturing inside of your own body. Just stay still, let me make you feel good.

You can feel her spirit working within you. Immense waves of pleasure wash over you. You can feel groans wishing to escape your lips.

Shh. Waller may have ears any where or maybe we should let her hear. The Enchantress giggles as you can feel her ghostly fingers as they teasing work up your legs.

“M-my-“ you try to articulate but the amazing magic she’s working is too much.

Shh tonight’s about you.

“You’re too good to me” you finally manage to say.

I could say the same to you. And then it hits you.

You collapse to your knees. Immense joy and pleasure hit you in waves, lulling you into a feeling of security.

You look one last time in the mirror to see your Enchantress holding you from behind. A little wicked grin on her lips.

Happy Halloween, my love

Happy Halloween indeed.

#dceu #dc comics #dc comics fanfiction #dc comics imagine #dc comics fluff #suicide squad #enchantress #enchantress x reader #the enchantress #snyderverse

[cardcaptorsakura96]

Taxes, Taxes, Taxes-Chapter 1

Summary: What if superheroes had to pay a property damage tax every time they had a fight in the city?

Kara is seated at a cubicle in her Supergirl costume staring at a typical pencil pusher hurriedly typing in the numbers. She looked around and saw Clark sitting in another cubicle behind her. He turned around and wave. 

“Let me know if you need any help!” 

Kara winced, hurriedly turned back around, and slouched in her chair. She looked back at the desk and saw the paper that brought her here. She was being charged $10,000 in property damage to the city while as Supergirl. Clark got the same paper, but he only has to pay $5. Her eyes started glowing red in rage while she gripped the chair. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths.

 “I hate being jealous, but it isn’t fair! I was supposed to be his defender, not the other way around. I even had military training before coming to Earth, but Clark makes everything here seem so effortless. It just makes me feel….irrelevant.”

It was a sobering thought that had been haunting Kara each day. If she couldn’t serve her purpose, what was she going to do? She was nearly drowning in her sorrows and self-hatred when she felt the office lady’s hand on her arm. She looked up at the lady and saw she had a cheerful disposition. Kara forced the smile back into her eyes and lips. 

“I am sorry that I drifted off there….um Connie. Isn’t that your name?”

“Oh, you remember my name!”

Connie’s smile looked so genuine. Kara would have found it cute if this pencil pusher wasn’t about to clear her out of cash. She forced her smile even brighter hoping to charm the pants off this lady to lower the cost down.

“Yes. I try to be good with names as I can. Were you able to find anything that can bring the cost of the bill down?”

Connie’s smile grew dimmer. 

“Shit!”

“Well, we can’t lower the cost…”

“Even though this is my first time?” said Kara with a pout on her face. 

She wasn’t above groveling. She didn’t have this type of money, and she will be damned if she had to beg Clark for help.

“I know this seems very steep, but when villains and superheroes fight in the city, it causes a lot of property damage. The tax was created to help discourage these types of situations.”

“Even when we are saving the city?”

“If there was no way to get the villain out of the city, there would be little to no charge.”

“Which is what happened in my case.”

Connie’s face fell a little and started twisting her hands.

“Well, not exactly. While fighting Livewire, you took out several buildings before taking her down.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Property could have been saved if you had utilized the fire hydrant and open pool in the area to stop Livewire due to her water vulnerability instead of using brute force.”

Kara slid further in her seat and sighed.

“I could have been more careful, but I was just in a hurry to prove I could do things faster than Clark.”

Kara looked back and saw that Clark had finished his payment and left. She looked back to Connie solemnly and asked, “What can I do now? Is there some type of payment plan I can do since I don’t have that type of money on me?”

Connie smiled a bit and said, “There are tons of options. We have a variety of payment plans, or we have different volunteer opportunities that you can choose to work off the payment.”

Connie passed her the book of all their volunteer opportunities and perused it for a minute. She was bored until one entry caught her attention and brought a smirk to her face. 

“I choose this one.”

Kara watched Connie’s face changed at her choice from a smile to a frown instantly. 

“Umm, are you sure you want to do this type of work.”

Kara smiled, and said, “Why wouldn’t I want to bring smiles to sick kids in a Children’s Hospital?”

“But…um… it is run by Lena…”

“Luthor. Oh, I am aware. I believe in judging people for their merit and not by association.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“Oh, I am sure.”

“Me working for the sister of Clark’s greatest enemy. This will so get under his skin.”

Kara laughed wickedly as Connie eyes her warily while signing her up for the volunteer gig. 

#dc comics #dc universe #supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp #kara danvers x lena luthor #superman #clark kent #supergirl fanfic #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl au #supercorp fanfiction #supercorp fanfic #dc comics fanfiction #dc fanfic

[pekejscatbed]

Lazy Day | Slade Wilson x gn! Reader

DAD BOD SLADE SUPREMACY HE IS A DILF HE IS DADDY SO WHERE THE FUCK IS HIS TUMMY GIVE MY FAVORITE OLD MAN THE BIG ASS STOMACH HE DESERVES YOU COWARDS- *cough cough* sorry guys, idk where that came from :/

info/warnings: gender neutral reader, soft Slade, cuddles, reminiscing, domestic fluff, weight gain, Slade has a dad bod and you can pry that headcanon from my cold dead hands

batman masterlist

———

You lay in bed together, Slade sitting up against the pillows in a pair of black boxer briefs and nothing else, and you partially on top of him, face buried in his naked stomach as he gently runs his fingers through your hair. 

Slade has gained weight since the two of you met, with you cooking for him on his days away from the mercenary life and keeping him well fed. His stomach is bigger now after the couple of years you've been together, now rounder than when the two of you went on your first date and hanging down over his hip line. He's still strong, muscles still as big as they were years ago- bigger, even- but now they're covered in layers of fat that you absolutely adore; you love the weight he's gained, love the way his arms are now squishy when you hold onto him in public, love watching the small jiggle to his thighs when he walks around the house in nothing but his boxers, love burying your face into his growing tummy on lazy days like today, like you are now. 

"Hm?" You tilt your head up as you exit your mind, thoughts dissipating as you look up at Slade in question. 

"Asked what you're thinking about, sweetheart." His voice is soft as he repeats himself, looking down at you and smiling when your eyes meet his one green eye. 

You smile back, humming softly. "You."

#gender neutral reader #slade wilson x you #slade wilson x reader #slade wilson #deathstroke x you #deathstroke the terminator #deathstroke x reader #deathstroke #fluff #domestic fluff #romantic fluff #dad bod #dad bod Slade Wilson #dad bod Deathstroke #batman #batman fanfiction #dcu #dc comics #dc comics fanfiction #dcu fanfic

[nouearth]

sweet surrender.

bruce wayne x male reader headcanon.

summary: there's nothing better than taking your anger out on someone you hate (and fucked).

wc: 2.3k. genre: smut. warnings: bale!bruce, top!bruce, bottom!reader, bigdick!bruce, bratty!reader breeding, mouth-fucking, rough!sex, hate!sex, choking, drooling, spitting, mentions of pain slash pleasure, bruce has a dick that won't quit.

notes: lowkey on a roll with these bruce smuts!!! enjoy, m'loves!

hate sex with bruce included kissing you with a sense of urgency. he overwhelmed you with the intrusion of his tongue. you resisted, but the wet muscle parted your lips so easily despite your efforts, and all you could do was fight back with a stronger force.

he held you against the wall, pinned you, but you utilized a surprising strength to push against his hold and bit down on his tongue in midst. an accidental move on your part, but you hated him. it made your chest swell hearing him cuss you out, and so you did it again, across his bottom lip where he'd groan again, before licking the insides of his mouth as if you were the potion to soothe his wounds.

fuck you. he'd grumble, breathing hot into your mouth after he slammed back into the wall. he speared a glare at you, into the fervent display of your eyes, and forced his lips back onto you. he hated kissing you. he hated the way your lips perfectly fit into his. he hated how your breath mixed sweetly with the scent of roasted coffee beans of his. he hated the sound of your moans when he pressed his body into yours. he hated the fact that he was pressing so close to you, practically attached to your hip.

and he hated the fact that there was not a single moment where he wanted to pull away.

fuck you. you spat at him, leered at the way his hair sweatily yet perfectly hung over his eyes as if it was a protective barrier that prevented you from dissecting his current feelings and emotion.

bruce vied for control—a dominance—that was proclaimed triumphant when he put his hands on you.

one strong hand of his laced over your hair, thick bundles at his grip, and he pulled your head back in one swift yank. your eyes opened in shock followed by a rattled groan, and a somewhat unnerving fear that you didn't want to admit led you to avoid his eyes.

bruce took his time eyeing your throat, the slow bob of your adam's apple as you thickly swallowed the ghost of coffee beans down, awaiting his next move. was he going to kiss you again? mark hickies all over you? bite hickies into you until you bled? looking beneath your eyelashes, his eyes sharpened, and for some reason, you suddenly felt smaller.

the silence around you fell to a quiet, menacing drone when he raised his free hand and one-by-one, slowly wrapped his fingers around your throat. everything was precise with him. he made sure the protrusion in your throat was centered at the space between his thumb and index. he made sure to let go of your hair so he could press you flat against the wall again, restricting your movements. and he made sure to squeeze, triggering a defiance in you, beating and pushing at his chest that only made him squeeze harder, harder, and harder.

your breath was vaulted in the back of your throat with staggers of profanity managing to slip out. you pretended it didn't affect you. despite your losing grasp in reality as bruce gradually stripped you of air, you powered through and wore a glare that crowned you a champion. he groaned. a warrior. he clenched his jaw. a king. he squeezed. and your crown shattered in a million pieces when your vision blurs, when your eyes gloss like varnish on wood, and when you shut them and a tear rolled down the flush of your cheeks.

and bruce knew he'd won when he let go, and you were gasping desperately for air. heaving as you rubbed at your neck, wincing because the muscle fibers were signaling in thrums that you were going to be bruising the morning after. though, it wouldn't be long until you found your breath completely stripped away from you again.

hate sex with bruce included forcing you down on your knees before finding a perfect grasp on the back of your head and pushing your mouth down his cock. you hated how thick he was, making you look even more meek because it was a struggle to even take in the first few inches. you coughed when he pushed lower, then gagged when the girth of his cock weighed down on your tongue and pushed air back down your throat, blocking your air passage.

open your mouth. he wasn't satisfied, mocking in his tone as he yanked your head back, and you'd use the few seconds to catch your breath as you drew your tongue out, hanging your mouth open. it was intimidating to see him in this position, towering over you as if you were a peasant to his kingdom, or like an animal as your pants were akin to one, but you'd never admit that as you glared upwards. he extended your head further back, yanked again, before thickly spitting into your mouth. or in bruce's own words, lubing your mouth.

as much control he had over you, you weren't going to take it—not like this. you scrunched your face before spitting up back at him, a few speckles landing at his cheek. it was a daring move, one that silenced the room until you could hear your heartbeat resonating through the stereos in his house.

do that again, i dare you. bruce warned—demanded—as his grasp only tightened, his cock hardening before you as it pulsed with anger. and instead of spitting, you let your saliva completely spill out, pushing it out in bubbly sputters as your tongue hung out, a move to mock him and his demands.

or what? going to fuck my mouth or something? despite his grip on you, it was loose enough for you to allow you to extend your neck and lick a stride at the underside of his meaty cock. he watched you in silence, his bare chest gradually heaving more with irritation. he was breathing through his nose, an obvious attempt to control the flame you ignited him, while you continued lazily tonguing at his cock at the plump head. you added to the glorious sheen his pre-cum had bestowed upon the pink flesh over time, lapping the thick musk up in several licks.

you'd get your answer when bruce threw you over the bed and onto your stomach. your cock found pleasurable refuge in the tousled duvet beneath you and you rocked your hips into the pocket of fabric as you waited for him, hearing him uncapping a bottle of some sort and the sounds of sticky lathers after.

jesus, what's taking so— without warning, bruce intruded into your tight hole with a slow, yet unbearable push. you pushed away, or attempted to escape from the sheer amount of pain beneath you, but he reeled you back by taking your shoulders and pinning them down to the mattress. it knocked the breath out of you. his cock, spreading you open so vividly painful, you could feel every stretch of muscle being pried open despite your natural will to enclose around him.

you opened your mouth, thinking your whimpers would come out, but your throat constricted instead, locking them back in until bruce delivered one hard snap of his strong hips, dispelling the gate to which your groans poured out in staggered and bitter pants. your toes curled at the stinging sensation, and your hands fisted into whatever fabric was in your had, but why did you love it? why did you love feeling like a doll with absolute no use in the world... except for fucking? for bruce's fucking?

think you can still run your mouth? bruce asked with no expectations of a coherent answer from you. he squeezed hard at every flesh and bone he'd come across. the back of your neck, your shoulders, your arms, your waist, bruising while the driving of his hips seemed to have been at competition with his own physical touch to see which could make you break first.

his hand ran over your back muscles, the dip of your spine, before traveling back upwards to shove your face into the mattress, once again restricting your way to life, to living, to breathing. his thick cock fucked into you while a glorious amount of lube creamed out of your violated hole, squelching and squishing with every thrust bruce would deliver in strong and heavy rhythms. he hated you. his bruising touch was evidence of that, already blooming beautiful against your skin, and he hated that he made the mistake of marking you because now you're marked as his.

you'd whine for him to keep fucking you, only because his movements rocked you into the duvet, making you fuck into the pocket of fabric. soft yet fuzzy against your skin, it was uncomfortable but you knew bruce wouldn't make you cum through his own touch. it was up to you, and you were selfish, needed to be selfish to achieve your own desires and pleasures.

you'd gotten used to the pain, soon turning into bittersweet, eye-rolling pleasure, finding yourself fucking your ass back into his thrusts, back into his meaty and throbbing cock. your ass rippled every time your skin met his, slapped loudly in the lust-driven air, and the sweat on your kindled bodies only made it more inviting as it stuck and glued you two together in a sticky mess, intertwined and passionate.

bruce held you by the hips, his fingers digging to the bone, bringing your ass back into him while he thrusted forward, ramming into you as hard as he could muster the power to in quick bursts before pacing back down into long and steady thrusts. he loved doing that. he loved hearing your moans ratter with the quickness of his thrusts. your long and drawn out hiss when he pulled out almost completely. you'd desperately wish for him to put it back in, and bruce wouldn't absolutely comply until you began whining, begging for him like a whore in heat.

please, please, please. i need it. you desperately cried out, the rim of your hole clinging onto for sanity—the very tip of his cock that you could feel bruce teasingly swirl around your hole.

you need what? bruce asked for clarification, a strong emphasis on what, and he'd pull his cock out to sheathe it in between your ass cheeks. his palms spanked you once, then again when you wouldn't answer, before groping your two soft globes and firmly kneading them until he could visibly see his handprints imprinted on your flesh. he'd fuck himself in between your cheeks, groaning at the lack of tightness compared to your pretty asshole. he felt himself coming close, and if he wanted to, he could come just like this, selfishly watching himself pour his spunk all over your back.

your cock, please. i need your big cock in me, fuck. i need you to fuck me until i'm thinking about that cock for weeks, fuck me like you hate me— fuck! your words croaked into the bed sheets, and you were apprehensive if it was enough for bruce. it was embarrassing because of how quickly submissive you became all because of his cock. you hated bruce, but not his cock. you could never. you needed him more than ever because you were close and you needed to come so bad, so fucking bad. you humped into the blanket, your hole quivering at the loss of girth, desperately enticing back bruce with multiple puckers.

like i hate you..? i despise you. bruce breathed out his final words near the shell of your ear before sheathing himself completely inside of you with one push, then proceeded to fucking you without caring that his full weight was toppled on you. without caring that the neighbors could hear your grunts and his mixing like a choir. the sloppy sounds of skin-to-skin contact turning it into a symphony of delectable sounds that he could simply get off to if he wanted to.

you kicked your feet, the immense pleasure quickly building up as if bruce hadn't taken a pause with you prior, and you were back to fucking into the blanket again. over and over, your cock slid into the soft fabric deeper until you were practically fucking a pile of fabric rather than a pocket.

and you came. your cock released your desires in thick, full shots that would stain the material for a lifetime, and you'd cream into them because bruce continued fucking you. continued fucking your ass, churning his cock in and out of you wildly until he felt his own release coming in heavy marches, like soldiers preparing for battle.

you could hear him pant, breathe a little harder and quicker than before, and his grasp tightens around your hips when he pulled his weight off of you. he loved using like this. not fucking you, but using your body to fuck him. he used his remaining strength to maneuver your hips—your body—almost lifting you as he fucked his thick cock, utilizing your hole like a fleshlight until he felt his balls startle, then twitch, then pumped in several course as his cock swelled with a desire to fill.

with a guttural moan, he slammed you back into his cock once more before his balls dumped his cum into you. thick and heavy, you can feel it coating every inch of your walls, then creamy as bruce pursued an ambition to milk himself. his fucking sounded sloppier than before as he churned himself inside of you, over-filling you with passionate hate, and you could feel it dripping out of you, down your thighs and legs and an unfortunate waste as it most likely stained the bed, the longer he used you like an abused toy.

once his cock went limp, bruce pulled out and watched with undeniable admiration as your loose hole squeezed his cum out in thick dribbles, unable to hold his warm loads for any longer because you were deservingly well-fucked and bred.

god, i hate you.hate you more.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

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[angelltheninth]

Oh! Kiss 32: jumping into your lovers arms with Nightwing pretty please!

Jumping, kising, kicking my feet for him!

Pairing: Dick Grayson/Nightwing x Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, reunion kisses, Reader being lifted up, lovestruck Nightwing

A/N: Been reading the latest Nightwing run, crazy shit is going down. Yo-ho-ho.

32. Jumping into your lover's arms

The long night of jumping from rooftops didn't stop Nightwing from sneaking his way through your shared flat and welcoming you with open arms as soon as the bedroom door opened. "Someone's missed me."

"It's been a good few hours Dick, of course I missed you." You jumped to him, arms and legs ready to lock around his body.

"Oof. Hold o- ow shit..." Your boyfriend overestimated himself, his back colliding with the doorframe. "Gonna feel that one tomorrow." He groaned.

You felt sorry for him, seeing the way his lips pressed tight together. "Should I take it easy on you then? If you're hurt I don't wanna make it worse." Dick worked hard to keep the people safe, you would keep him safe in return.

"Actually, I was thinking I could take this costume off and... you could kiss it better for me." Even under his mask you could see his eyebrows wiggle as his mouth formed a cheeky grin. "It would really make me feel better."

"Then let's start here." First were his lips, where you payed special attention to the upper one. He tasted metallic, but didn't hold back, his arms bracing around your thighs and bringing you to the bed where he placed you down gently.

"Might need to help me take it off." Nightwing teased.

His mask was the first to go, you needed to see those beautiful blue eyes of his darken.

#dc comics x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dc comics imagine #dick grayson imagine #nightwing imagine #dc comics fanfiction #dick grayson fanfiction #nightwing fanfiction #dc comics fluff #dick grayson fluff #nightwing fluff #titans x reader #titans imagine #titans fanfiction #titans fluff #fluff drabble #kiss imagines #x reader

[sharkksee]

THE BIRD AND THE CAT !!

──── Damian Wayne x Thief!Reader. 934 words. Part one here.

He had let you go. You escaped thanks to him, he didn't use violence, he didn't chase you, he didn't send you to the police. He let you go, he easily let you go with all those bills of your goal. Why? Why did you have to steal his heart?

He can't think about that, not when it's about you. You are a criminal, he should put you behind bars. But he knows he can't, and you know it too.

“You haven't been stealing in a while, fleabag.” Damian spoke coldly as he watched you approach a window that you silently opened of the jewelry store, preventing you from even entering.

His eyes look at you penetratingly, analyzing your every move. Is it attraction you feel? He can't feel that, not with a thief like you. He is Robin, he is a hero, not a hypocrite like Batman.

You turn around, seeing the young man in the Robin costume behind you. You sigh with disapproval and descend from the window that you failed to interrupt, landing on the ground.

“Oh, my bad.” You say, with a hint of sarcasm, as you leans towards the boy, attentively. “I returned to action because I knew you would come, little bird.”

His eyes watched you and studied you for a few moments, his gaze was curious, but he continued to hide it. “Were you waiting for me?” Damian asked calmly, the smile on his face becoming more subtle but more threatening, he didn’t trust someone like you.

“Yes, I was waiting for you.” You said as you walked until you were in front of him, as if you were challenging him to a duel, as if you weren't afraid of him. Because you know that, despite his attempts to catch you, he will never dare let you go to the police. This is a game that will only continue if he lets you get away with the robbery with dirty hands.

“You know, you really should leave the stealing for people.” Damian said with a confident tone. But his curiosity was winning over him.

The young hero enjoyed the fact that, despite his best efforts, the thief could escape his watchful gaze, and that the more he thought about you, the less sense it made. You seemed like the type of character he would despise the most, yet something drew him towards you, sending shivers down his spine.

“Nah, It's obvious you adore me, admit it.” You smirked at him. “You can't get bored of me.”

“You’re wrong, cat.” Damian said, looking at you intently, his words sounded cold and harsh. Damian’s voice had completely changed when he addressed you directly. He seemed unapproachable and intimidating, yet something else lurked beneath his gaze. Perhaps the little thief wasn’t as bad as he thought.

As if he couldn't do anything else but look into your eyes, he was hypnotized by their color beauty. He wanted to look away, but something about them was calling his name. He was confused, but he liked it.

“Ah, is that so?” You smile as he took a step closer to Damian, who remained still in his same spot, not moving. Damian stares at you. He watches your movements, and it seems to him that you are doing it on purpose to make him feel jealous, to make him lose your concentration. He's not sure, but the little smile on your face is adorable. “Your mouth says one thing, but your mind says another.”

He tried to hide his attraction, and failed miserably. His heart was racing as he got closer to you, his movements becoming slower. For a moment, he wondered what it would be like to kiss you, to hold you in his arms. The idea was so appealing, so strange…

“Don't think you can trick me, cat,” Damian said, calmly, barely moving a muscle. There was nothing he wanted more than to kiss you, he couldn't deny that his heart was beating at a furious pace. He wanted to do something more than just kiss you and let you go.

“How does this game end? Does the thief finally get captured and sent to the police, or does the criminal escape with the hero's heart?”

“Why don’t we find out?” You leaned closer, your breaths touching the other's face with an intoxicating softness. Damian's mind was bursting with questions, were you doing that to distract him? Or was this a real scene, beneath the veil of crime alley?

His body trembled, and he felt his heart beating wildly. You were beautiful as you leaned forward, closer to him. The heat of your breath was something else, that was it, he couldn't resist you anymore.

Damian’s heart raced, he closed his eyes and captured your lips with his own. He moved his hands to your hair and let himself go, kissing you passionately, he could no longer hold back, and that scared him. His feelings for you were real, and they weren't supposed to be.

You had captured him without even realizing it, you had conquered his heart. He knew this was wrong, so wrong, but it felt so damn right. The feeling was new to him, he never felt this way for anyone. Was there something more? Was it possible that he really liked you?

Damian opened his eyes slightly, looking at you, damn. He was doing what he swore he would never do. He was letting the thief steal his heart.

“You know what they say, little birds like you aren't too hard to catch.”

“Just shut up, fleabag.”

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[cas-backwards-tie]

Chapter Five: Threatened to Reset

Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Heiress of Gotham

Masterlist | Previous Chapter

Summary: With the family's help everything is planned for the big move. A trip to Bludhaven to organize, pack, and move all your belongings leaves the past to be drug up. How will they react to your home? Will any secrets be found? Will emotions rise? Will your past be disclosed? It's all up to you... and maybe a crime boss and his goons.

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: The usual Banter and Bickering, Cursing, Knives, Threatening, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Arguing, Fighting, Shame, Guilt, Fight or Flight.

Mentions of: Sex Trafficking, Criminal Activities, Police, Drug Busts, Prostitution, Assassins.

A/N: There's a lot of information to digest in the chapter, and really what was meant to be one chapters I actually am going to have to split up in order to make them manageable. It's been awhile, and while I'm still trying to figure out how to manage my life in the sense of hobbies, work, my health, a possible second job, and extracurriculars, I request you all be patient with me. I definitely do have more in store, yet for now this chapter isn't proofread (at least the beginning and end) I just need to get this one out.

Having discussed tomorrow’s events as a group at dinner, your Father let you lead the charge in what would happen with your apartment’s belongings. Decided on packing everything up and either donating the things you don’t need, storing the important things, and transporting the things you do need, it all was simple enough. Nothing a little packing tape and rounds of boxes won’t fix.

Starting the day with a hearty breakfast from Alfred, you all packed into a minivan you didn't know or think the Bruce Wayne would ever own or have anything to do with. Nevertheless, the ride was fairly timely to get to your old apartment building. Saying hello to the few neighbors coming in and out who you recognized and knew, you led the gang the seventeen flights and begrudgingly let them inside. You knew sooner or later they'd out where and how you lived. It definitely isn't as nice as Wayne Manor, but of course, what else could you expect?

Assigning everyone to different spots and or groups of items in the apartment, you really feel like they went for overkill. A welcoming and slightly overwhelming sense of love blossoms in your chest as they really didn't all need to help, but everyone insisted on coming. Even Tim's girlfriend, Stephanie. How nice, you think, for someone to actually care that much to go out of their way. Family almost congesting the apartment, you focus on your room and belongings. The fact that Damian hasn't even made any rude remarks (that you know of) is surprising.

After almost everything is packed and it's a few hours past noon, Alfred gets tired. Damian insists he's spent enough time in this 'hellhole' and almost demands that Alfred take him home. With the time having gotten away from you and some of the others, it seems to no one's surprise that Tim and Stephanie also apologetically explain their need to leave. They have homework they need to get done; and with that, Alfred agrees that it might be best to head back to the Manor with everyone who needs to leave. Dick lives in Bludhaven, so there's no surprise he'd stay, and while Jason has his motorcycle, he says he doesn't mind staying until it's all finished. Bruce having come separately after checking in at work explains that the two of you can drive back together once everything's done. It'd been lucky enough that he'd brought his car, and not one of the nicer ones, either.

Searching all the nearby boxes, you don’t find it. It’s nowhere to be seen, and if it’s not here then that can only mean one thing: They took it. Opening up the box near the kitchen you retrieve a butcher’s knife. Hand gripping the handle tightly you storm to the front door and lock it.

“Woah, woah- what’s going on?” Jason asks, hands raising in concern as he stops boxing the books that’d been on the nearby shelf.

With a tense look in his eyes, you adjust the knife in your palm, getting a better and more sturdy grip on it. Other hand rising to your mouth you place your pointer finger before your lips. A tacit command of ‘silence’. Jason’s fear had drawn the attention of the other two, though you ignore them as you quickly storm through the living room and down the hall.

Eyes flitting back and forth out the window, up and down the fire escape you quickly return with the same fervor you’d previously held. “Why do you have a knife?” Dick questions.

Back to the front door, you simultaneously listen to the hallway, hoping that if anyone were to come, you’d hear them first and be ready. In the attempt at a raid via bursting in through the door, at least you’ll be the first one in the line of fire able to protect everyone. While the worst case scenario always pops into your mind first, you’re not oblivious to the measly chance this could simply chalk up to coincidence. Holding out the knife, you point to each man in the room as your gaze shifts between them.

“Look. There was a gun in there last time we were here. It’s always there. If none of you have seen it, let alone packed it away… then we have a big problem,” you reveal. Knife pointed in the direction of the safe that's now open within a drawer of the tv stand, it's clear that everything else has been packed away.

Between the couch and television diagonally to your left stands Dick. Hands raised, he holds a stoic expression as he stands closest to the safe. His blue eyes flit to Jason. Knife shifting toward him, he too stands with his hands by his waist, palms facing you. Eyes filled with confusion and concern, he shifts his weight as he stands across the room in the corner between the kitchen's counter and beside the opening to the hallway. His green eyes shift to Bruce.

Before you can even turn the knife on the man closest to you, diagonally standing in the kitchen opening to your right, someone speaks up. “I took it,” Jason announces. All eyes dart to him and you watch as he slowly starts to reach around his back towards his waistband. Out of the corner of your eye you spot Bruce move.

“Don’t!” You warn, stepping back and pointing the knife at him. He’s not going to disarm you. Eyes back on Jason, you motion with the knife for him to place the produced gun onto the table between you two. Gun dangling from his fingers, he doesn’t move, so you gesture again with more of a ferocity this time. “Put it on the table.” It’s a command, not a request.

He slides it across the table. Three steps close the distance between you and the item. Though Bruce could easily do something behind your back, just out of your peripheral vision now, you focus on the task at hand. One look at the gun has you skeptical; face tense, you use the knife to turn the gun around. The examination is short. One flip of the gun onto its other side and a quick lift into your hands to make sure the safety is on, you release the bullet cartridge to find that one bullet is missing. With a click of the cartridge locking back into place, you toss it back onto the table.

Storming back to the door where you're at a far enough distance from all of them, your forearms rest against the splintering wood, face buried within them for a moment to gather yourself. Slowly turning back toward the men, but more specifically Jason, you glare daggers at him. “Why didn’t you just tell me you had the gun when I first mentioned it missing,” not waiting for an answer, your head tilts a bit as you don’t play his game. “Nevertheless, did you really think I’d be stupid enough to not recognize that that’s an entirely different gun? So what’s your game?”

Silence lingers. Jason knows he’s fucked, and they all know it too. Why did he think she’d fall for that? It was worth a shot, sure, but the real gun is still back at the Batcave. However, she can’t know that. “There’s no game,” Bruce says your name, a sincere look in his eyes.

“I wasn’t asking you,” you bark, knife turning on him as he tries again to take a step closer. His hands are still raised in an attempt to de-escalate the situation.

The silence is expected, however, the smile that creepily inches across your lips is not. A shift of the knife in your palm has you gripping the handle in an underhanded approach, ready to stab, rather than slice. “Ha,” you scoff, “I knew it… too good to be true. I can respect the lengths he’ll go to play his little games, but this is just beyond fucked. A ploy to what? Fuck with me, pretend to be my family, and now what? Kill me? I knew it. After yesterday, I just knew it was coming.”

“What are you talking about?” Jason asks incredulously, a hint of anger and fear within his tone.

“Who?” Dick asks coldly, taking a step closer.

“Antonio Marin?” Bruce asks. Eyes darting to meet his, you shift the knife in your palm again to get a better grip on it.

“Oh, you wanna play it this way? Act all fucking coy and innocent now?” Gears shifting, you eye the other two men. “Unless he’s just another victim to his plan, I don’t buy it. Richest man in the world and he’s a good guy? Yeah? No.”

“Should’ve known,” you sigh, shaking your head. “BPD? Too obvious.” With a sad smile and tears beginning to threaten your eyes, you chuckle. “Well if he wants me, then go ahead. I’ve got nothing left. If I’m the last piece to the puzzle then do it. Kill me. It’s three to one, I know you’ve got a gun and more than enough bullets to take me.” You thump your chest with your free hand, open, ready to accept your fate. “Do it! Shoot me, Jason. Right now! Kill me.”

As if the reality of the situation suddenly dawns on you, fear readily replaces the confidence you’d just boasted. Backing up against the door you shift the knife in your hand to a stabbing position again, as you continue to shift it, unsure which approach will be best in your defense. Suddenly you're terrified of what’s to come. “No… no. Three big men on one teenage girl?” The way Jason had hesitated, it’s apparent. “I knew he was expanding the business, but like this? NO.” Chest heaving with rapid breaths, you’re suddenly running on pure adrenaline. Panic sets in as you know what the man's got planned for you. “If you want me then I’m not going down alone. I’ll kill myself before I let that happen to me- and if that doesn’t work then I’ll mangle myself SO badly that nobody will buy me,” you threaten, voice deepening in a terrifyingly chilling way.

Placing the knife against your neck, you’re more than ready to take yourself off the table. You won’t let that happen to yourself. You won’t let anyone take advantage of you that way. A punishment worse than death is something you're not willing to participate in, nor offer.

Dick calls your name in a calm tone, one far too calm for this situation. “This isn’t any ploy, or game. We don’t work for anyone. If you think someone’s after you, you need to tell us. We can’t help you if we don’t know what’s going on.”

“Oh,” you relinquish too easily, knife falling back to your side. Turning to face the door your eyes settle against it for a moment before spinning back to face the man. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that Officer Grayson from the BPD was here! I’ll just tell you everything so you can either arrest me or take me out on his behalf!” With a step toward him, you raise the knife by your side again. “Do you really think I’m that stupid, Grayson? That I wouldn’t realize you’d try to get a confession out of me, record this- have them take a voice memo? This isn’t my first rodeo.”

"It's not like that. We're just trying to help! You can't seriously believe this is all some conspiracy against you," Dick argues. His voice is still calm, and while the raised brow elicits a begrudging irk and prick of paranoia in your mind, his words do nothing but continue to cause the gears to mentally turn. "If someone wanted to take you out there would've been easier methods. You would've been dead weeks ago."

A wry chuckle leaves your lips, a knowing smile still set on your features as you two stand off with one another. "Sure... if it was anyone else. Yet that's not how he plays his game and you know it."

"You still think I'm corrupt?" Dick asks, shifting his weight to lean into his hip on one side.

"How could you not be?! Look at me and tell me that you're not! That you don't know about Perdy Chapman, or any of the sabotage the BPD plays," you demand.

"I know about the sabotage. I don't know about Perdy Chapman, but if you know something," he recites your name, "you have to tell us. I can't do anything or help anyone if everyone's keeping secrets."

"What? So this is all a loyalty test? An attempt to get me to come back? There's no way he's that desperate."

"Come back? You worked for Antonio Marin?" Bruce pipes up, concerned blue eyes turning on you as he shifts his gaze between you and Dick. Hands still up in surrender, he takes a step towards you.

"Quit fucking with me! If this is because he thinks I'll rat, I won't! I'm not a fucking rat. We got out, we left! We don't owe him anything!"

"If you know where he is you need to tell us," Jason voices his concern, also taking a step closer. "No one is taking you back, no one is gonna hurt you. I'll be damned before that happens." Jason whispers your name, garnering your attention as he gives you a serious look, "If you think he's after you, we need to know. We can't help you if we don't know what's going on."

With a stomp and a slash of the knife by your side as you realize they're right, you won't do this without a stipulation. "Fine! But... I can't go to the cops. I can't... file a report. I can't do anything. Promise me-" you respond, voice starting off confident until his falls short of a whisper. Jason nods, starting to close the space as he pulls out the last chair remaining at the dinner table.

"No cops, you got it. Just... tell us what happened, what's going on," Jason concedes, hand settled on the back of the chair.

As you shake your head in decline toward the chair, Jason easily swivels it around and sits on his backward, attention on you. As you place the knife on the side table by the front door, you start to pace. "I... don't know where to start," you voice your thoughts.

"From the beginning," Dick encourages, voice gentle as he realizes Jason has made progress by building a rapport. Something he hadn't realized he could be making more of an effort towards, he supposes. Even if he already feels like he's done more than he can for the girl.

As the Detective sits on the back of the couch and Bruce leans against the wall, your eyes can't help but find his... your Father's. "I... I can't-" you realize. Steps coming to a halt, you find yourself face to face with the last person in your life who you feel like you can't lose. The only person you need to impress, to suck up to.

"This is important," Bruce says your name, head tilting further downward as he offers a more straight-on look with your height differences, not to mention the sympathetic look that cross his features.

Eyes falling to the floor, you shake your head. "I can't. I don't want you to look at me differently, and I know you will. There's no way you can't." It's a warning, a vague divulgence on the subject matter. There's no way this conversation can happen without someone's impression being changed or shifted. It's just not possible.

"That won't happen," Bruce reassures.

"There's no way it can't happen. You don't know!" You argue, hands gesticulating the emphasis of your seriousness.

"This is your safety we're talking about," Jason reminds.

"We all have pasts," Dick reiterates your name, "we've all done things. It won't change anything."

"I promise," Bruce adds on, following up with Dick's words. Crouching to be on your level, he holds out his pinky, and while part of you hesitates, the seriousness in his eyes begs for a piece of trust. An inkling of hope, sincerity, vulnerability, trust. Wrapping your much smaller pinky around his, you shake on it.

As he lets go and returns to leaning against the wall, they all sit in anticipation, waiting for you to speak. "From the beginning?" You question.

"From the beginning," Dick echoes again, trying his hardest to be patient. With a tacit gesture of his hand, he guides you to sit on the couch cushions. Despite his offer, you choose to sit on the floor in front of the couch, back leant up against it as Dick chooses to sit in the armchair to the left of it. Jason comes closer, perching himself on the edge of the tv stand, while Bruce lingers by the back of the couch to your right, still in your periphery.

"It... all started about, I don't know, two years ago?" Jason nods in encouragement, a sign for you to keep going. "I don't- I don't know exactly when, I can't really place a time or say because I didn't know- I didn't- I never thought- I mean," the words tumble from your lips as your thoughts begin to race with the memories. Heart beating faster, there was never a definitive point in time you could place. "He just... started coming over. After-" swallowing the thick lump that forms in your throat, the faint burning sensation of tears threatening to start welling up becomes real. "-Mom got laid off."

"Mhm," Dick hums, hands clasping in his lap as he expresses the fact that he's listening.

"Everyone knew who he was. We all do, but of course, you're nice to people you don't necessarily know. You don't wanna start any problems. I guess Mama met him one night when she was out with my Tia. He said he could get her job back, that he could help her make money again, that we wouldn't have to move, to get evicted. He'd get her job back. So he did. She didn't ask, she didn't even want her job back after everything they said and did to her, firing her just because of her skin- but... he did it anyways. He got her job back at the hospital and even got her a promotion. How? I never asked, but if you know Marin, then I guess you can imagine how."

"Then he told her she owed him," Bruce speaks up as you take a breath. His tone is definitive, certain, as if he knows. A shake of your head lets him know he's wrong.

"Of course, she went back to see him at the same bar. She thanked him, we all did... but that wasn't the end of it. He said if she ever wanted anything more, a side job, extra money, anything else, that he could give her that. That all she need do is ask." A sigh escapes your lips and you subtly shake your head again. you know you'll have to tell them. It'll get there eventually, yet there's no way of knowing how they'll react. "They became friends. I always thought he liked her, that's why he was so nice."

"But he showed his true colors, didn't he?" Jason comments, a dangerous and almost vengeful tone in his voice as he leans forward so his elbows rest on his knees. His hands curl in and out of fists as he listens.

"No... he was... just nice." Finally looking up to meet their eyes, you gauge the room. Each man has a different expression on his face, looks of curiosity, intrigue, suspicion, and anger all around. "He'd be at the parties, come over, take us out, have a drink. He became a part of the circle, at least... for a while. I think it all changed when Mama said no to him. He asked her out, and she finally understood why he'd been so nice to her. Yet, that didn't change anything. Being friends, he was still coming around. Maybe he was doing more, becoming more distant, but not much changed. He kept offering, and offering, and eventually I think she figured if she had control, and it was something he'd offer, then how could it hurt? It was only after that year and once the gifts died down that, well..."

"What?" Jason raises his eyes again to meet yours as he'd been mulling over his own thoughts for a moment, head in hands. A chuckle shakes his chest subtly as his hands shoot out in gesticulation. "You can't just say 'after that, well...' and not finish the story!"

"Come on, Jase-" Bruce gently reprimands with a look.

"It's clear there's more," Dick interrupts his Father to address you, still in the position he'd been in. Eyes intent on your figure as he waits for an answer, a scowl on his lips.

"I finally asked him if there was any way I could do something. Something small to make money; like mow someone's lawn, pet-sitting, house-sitting... things like that." Eyes falling to the pilled carpet by your sock-clad feet, you pick at the fluffy brown fabric. "I had school. My mom would hate me if she knew I asked him, but everyone else was getting money, and I figured if he was like my Uncle or Dad it's normal to ask for those things... I think." Hair falling over your shoulders, it masks your face as you rush to get the rest of the story out.

"He... had me do jobs for him. It was easy. Deliver presents, bouquets, envelopes, packages, things like that. No problem, lots of people do that, right? But I was making at least a hundred every week, if not more, and, and I didn't think about it. It was easy money! I could buy whatever I wanted, I could save, I could spoil my friends, my mom... I never thought about it until I... got curious." Words trailing off, you risk a glance up at Dick. Tucking your bangs behind your ear, his expression is immovable. He's stoic; a pickup of heartrate leaves you anxious as you haven't been able to easily read him like many of the others.

The movement of Jason's lips slowly opening garners your attention, and as his eyes widen you quickly duck your head back down again. "You were..." he tests the waters.

"So one day I decided to stay. They never opened their packages in my vicinity. Never opened the presents, envelopes, packages, or undid the bouquet. It didn't feel right. I haven't gotten many presents in my life, but I'd think if I got a big one like those, I'd open it right away... see what it is." Continuing with your story, you didn't give Jason even half a fraction of time to finish his thoughts. "So I delivered the package like normal, watched them count out the money and hand it over before I was on my way. Around the corner, I was halfway down the block when I realized I could probably wait it out, hide somewhere across the street and watch them from one of the store windows. They wouldn't notice. I could just put on my hood, if anything, and... well, then it-" eyes shifting back up to Dick, you don't look away this time, "-it happened."

"I hadn't realized it but parked on the opposite side of the road and right by me out of sight from where I'd come there were cop cars parked. Cops lined up with their guns pulled, batons and riot shields ready. I froze..." At this moment it seems like the gears in Dick's mind are finally starting to turn and place things together. "I thought I was caught, for something I only suspected, but... within seconds the cops were ushering me out of the area while the second team were busting the gang of boys I'd come from for having drugs."

"They were using you," Bruce states, an air of sympathy encased in his word choice.

"You were a mule f-" Jason affirms.

"-But that wasn't the end of it," Dick says confidently, his dark blue eyes still set on you, unmoving, a quirked brow joining his visage. "You said you're out. So if that's true then how'd that happen?" He asks, finally shifting in his seat as his head slightly tilts. It's almost as if he's testing you. "Exactly," he clarifies.

"Once I realized what was happening I ran home. I-" jaw clenching, your eyebrows furrow as you don't want to have to admit this. Especially not when Dick looks so confident and arrogant. You know he'd seen you that day, just like you knew you'd seen him. A silent staring match follows,a few seconds, before your resolve crumbles upon the memories. "I told my mom. I was crying, and she was shocked and surprised and angry and mad and I didn't know what to do! I didn't know where to go or who to tell, and I knew she'd be mad but she said she wasn't mad at me, but at him and that it was okay because she was gonna get us out of it. We met up with Anto- with- with Marin," you correct yourself. "We demanded out, and... he let us go. He said we were free to go as long as we didn't say or do anything that went against him. MY mom didn't want us involved with him anymore."

"He just 'let you go'?" Dick reiterates.

"Yes. That's it," you reveal, a shrug following as you don't bother to make eye contact. "Now you know!" The revelation leaves you upset and unaware of anyone else's responses. You just know that this changes everything, now that they know... they know that you're a bad person. You dealt drugs. You worked for a mobster. A gangster, a criminal; you stocked up drug money, saving it, keeping it. Blood money, one could even claim in earnest... and you couldn't argue with them.

~~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo

hog taglist: @luvly-writer , @clairese1980 , @theroyalmanatee , @azazel-nyx , @nightrose-18 , @vanessa-boo , @ih4temy5elfs0b4d , @agent-nobody-knows , @scarlett13 , @hoeinthehouse

#heiress of gotham #hog #my writing #my series #dad!bruce wayne x daughter!reader #dc comics reader insert #batfamily x reader #batfam x reader #dc x reader #dc imagine #batsis reader #tws in tags #queue are my family #batfam series #dad!bruce wayne #batfam x sister!reader #jason todd x sister!reader #dick grayson x sister reader #dcu fanfiction #dc comics fanfiction #dcu reader insert #daughter!reader #alfred pennyworth x granddaughter!reader

[multi-fandom-friend]

late night visit

You get a tap on your window very late at night. Plus a small scolding. warnings: none just some pure tooth rotting fluff

pairing: gender neutral! Reader x Jason Todd

You were sitting on your bed in your small apartment in Gotham. You just sat there, reading, then drawing, then you decided this was probably a good time to catch up on some work you were falling behind on. Before you knew it around 3 hours had passed. Was it way too late for you to be up right about now? Probably. Did you give a single fuck? No.

After a few minutes you hear a tap on your window. Barely noticeable. But then another one. And another. So you decide to look up and you’re met with the face of none other than your very own Jason Todd

You stumble to the window with a smile and throw it open, letting him in. “Hi there,” he says with a serious look on his face. You knew you were up too late. Now you’ve been caught. “Hello,” you slur out in your exhausted state. “Why are you still up. Didn’t I specify to you that I didn’t want you up this late? It’s horrible for your health! I can’t have you up tomorrow looking like a damn corpse!” He scolds. Not in a mean way or anything, just firm. “I didn’t mean to……….okay at first I didn’t mean to but then I was doing so well I just couldn’t! Please understand, Jaybird! I didn’t mean to.” You plead. “Oh calm down. I’m not gonna do anything other than scoop you up and make you go to bed.” And with that he shuts the window behind him and scoops you up bridal style.

He softly tosses you onto your bed and makes sure you’re secure under the covers. “Now stay there. I’m grabbing pajamas for myself.” And he walks into the other room. You take this as an opportunity to grab your laptop. “Just one more paragraph couldn’t hurt” you told yourself. Jason came back with a look of frustration on his face. “I was gone for not even 2 minutes,” he laughs “how the hell did you get the laptop and tuck yourself back in that quickly? And why are you back on it? Didn’t I say no? Gimme that.” He takes the laptop and places it on the table across the room so you couldn’t get to it. “Stay.” He points at you and forces himself not to smile. He comes to lay down on you so you couldn’t get back up. “Jaaaaay!” You whine. “You’re crushing me, you brute! Get off!” “Mmmm. No.” He says as he buried his face in your stomach. You try to push his head off and he drops all of his weight onto you. “Goddamn it, Jay! Off!” “Fine” he huffs as he rolls onto his side and brings you with him, wrapping his arms around you. “Now you have your wish, go to sleep. Please?” He cuddles you. “Sleep.” He says. You feel him run his fingers up and down your arm until you fall asleep.

A/n: Ozzie here! Sorry if this is bad, I’m trying my best. Anyways, should I do anything Christmas or holiday themed? I feel like someone might appreciate it! My requests are open!

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #batfam #fluff #jason todd fluff #fanfic #dc comics fanfiction

[midnightstar-90]

𝔻𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕤 & ℂ𝕦𝕕𝕕𝕝𝕖𝕤

Garfield Logan x Platonic! Reader

Taglist | Request | Wattpad

Main Masterlist | DC Comics Masterlist

Summary: Gar is an underestimated member of the Titans, and after recent events, he really needed someone.

Warnings: Nothing but Sad Gar and angst

A/N: This is set between the end of season 2 and the beginning of season 1.

Words: 1.9K

Out of all the Titans, Y/N was the quietest. She kept to herself most of the time and tried to stay out of everyone’s way.  But that didn’t stop her from observing the people around you.

She was hypervigilant and saw through all the crap that the Titans told each other. Like how Dick tried to see past his horrible childhood and refuses to believe that he reflects that on the other people in the tower. Or how Kory is such a badass on the outside, but on the inside she was struggling to find herself. But one of the most difficult things for her to watch was the number of times they put their needs before Gar’s, but he was always there for him.

It hurt the girl to watch them do that to the poor boy, so she took it upon herself to come to his aid. It hadn’t been long since C.A.D.M.U.S Labs basically kidnapped Gar and Conner from the tower and forced them to do their bidding. It took a lot out of Gar, especially with the loss of Donna that same night. Everyone was upset with Donna’s passing, but none of them paid attention to Gar or Conner’s feelings. They too had suffered a tremendous amount.

Y/N could hear Gar, at night, crying through the walls. He grew distant from the Titans, keeping to himself mostly. And not once did a single person try to do something about it.

The girl sat on the couch, listening to some classical music through her headphones as she randomly drew using her sketch pad. Classical music somehow brought out an artistic side to her. It was something she learned with Dick. Out of nowhere, a blank-faced Gar stormed into the large room, and into the kitchen. 

Seeing this, Y/N removed the headphones from her ears and placed them around her neck. She moved her art supplies from off her lap and uncurled herself from her crisscross position. She stood, walking over to a clearly upset Gar, as he aggressively pulled out a box of cereal, practically slamming it onto the counter.

“Are you okay, Gar?” Y/N asked, concerned for her friend who once again slammed a bowl on the counter, next to the cereal.

“Is that classical music?” Gar asked, glaring up at the girl. His head twitched and his eyes turned green. Y/N took that as a sign of hostility, but she wasn’t scared.

She nodded, “Yes. It helps me focus.” Gar was not happy with the music that was blasting through her headphones. “Well, turn it off,” he barked as he went to grab some milk. She respectfully obeyed Gar's orders, turning her headphones off, so no one could hear the music.

What’s wrong with you, Mr. grumpy,” Y/N joked, keeping a curious eye on the green haired boy. 

Looking up at the ceiling, he rubbed his face, letting out a loud groan. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he sighed, now looking the girl straight in the eye.

Y/N nodded her head, giving the boy a sad smile. “Well, if you need anything, I’m here.” Her loving tone seeped through the boy’s ears as a warm fuzzy feeling rushed through his body. A small smile appeared on Gar’s face as nodded and went back to making his food.

Y/N gave the boy one last look before collecting her stuff and leaving the room entirely. ‘If he wants to talk to me, I won’t force him. Just let him come to you, Y/N,’ Y/N thought to herself as she exited the room. Leaving the boy alone.

Gar watched the girl’s movement and contemplated her words. It was something he rarely heard unless it was him trying to help his friends. It felt nice to know there was someone willing to help him.

Later that night, Gar stood in Y/N’s door frame, watching as she made her bed, tucking in her sheets and covers, for that perfect hold on her as she slept. He knocked on the wooden door, catching the attention of the young girl. Her head flew up, breaking her concentration from her bed, and a warm smile appeared when she saw the boy standing in her doorway.

“Hey,” She spoke, in a cheerful manner. Gar didn’t smile back. The girl frowned, sensing something wrong. The boy stepped closer to the girl, allowing her to see the dried-up tears that ran down Gar’s face.

“Gar?” She asked, concerned for the boy. He didn’t speak. He, instead, walked over to the girl, making her jump slightly as he pulled her into an unexpected hug. She quickly wrapped her arms around him, patting his back.

“Gar, what’s wrong? You’re scaring me,” She spoke, hearing small sobs against her back. “Can I sleep in here?” The boy asked quietly. Y/N stayed quiet, feeling the vibration as Gar cried into her neck. 

She had a feeling she knew why the boy wanted to stay with her for the night. She felt her face warm up as she tried to imagine what the boy was going through. A tear ran down her face as she nodded. "Y-yeah, you can stay tonight," she stuttered.

Gar pulled back from her, wiping the tears, not wanting Y/N to see him cry, but she already saw everything. She saw the broken boy ages ago, it wasn’t until now that she saw how broken he really was.

Placing her hand on his back, she led him over to the right side of the bed, pulling out the cover to allow him to lie down. He did as intended before the girl went over to the other side, crawling in next to him. 

She turned off the light, and just lay with her back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Gar lay on his side, watching the dark shadow of her door. His mind wandered as he began to remember what it was like to not be in control. To be in the dark. He remembered the people he killed, and how C.A.D.M.U.S had hurt him. He remembered the pain he felt from the time he was taken from the tower to the time Rachel had released him from the mind prison he was forced into.

Y/N heard the familiar cries. Those similar to the ones she would hear through the walls. Gar sniffled as two arms wrapped around his figure, pulling him into their embrace. He relaxed, knowing it was Y/N comforting him.

“I’m sorry for snapping earlier,” Gar mumbled through his tears.

Y/N tilted her head as she looked down at the boy, calmly playing with his hair. It was something her mother had done when she was upset. She smiled and said, “It’s fine Gar. You went through some pretty traumatic stuff. We all have times when we’re scared to open up. No one blames you.”

“No, I shouldn’t have gotten mad like that.” Gar went quiet as he tried to muster up the courage to say what he needed to. “It’s just that… Classical music is what C.A.D.M.U.S used to brainwash me. Obviously, you didn't know that, and therefore it was wrong for me to get upset.”

Y/N felt guilty. She didn’t know any of that. Her breath hitched at the thought of all the things C.A.D.M.U.S did to the teenage boy in her arms. The torture. The mental and physical pain that he went through, watching as he uncontrollably killed many people, both innocent and guilty. She was sympathetic toward the boy, and it hurt, even more, to see that no one else cared as much as Y/N did.

“When I sleep, I hear their screams. I could hear the sound of myself clawing and biting into innocent people. Children running scared in fright. I never wanted that for myself or anyone for that matter.”

Y/N rubs his back in a comforting way, staring blankly at a wall as she listens to Gar’s words. “I wake up, and my pillow is soaked. I cry in my sleep. And every night, it’s the same thing. Sometimes during the day, I can hear them. Their pleas for me to stop. Their cries for help. I feel so disoriented nowadays.”

Y/N kisses Gar’s forehead and quietly says, “You just need a little guidance. And I may not know exactly what you’re going through, but everyone has been through some life-changing stuff, no matter how hard they push it down. Me…” she said pointing at herself, even though she knew Gar couldn’t see her. “I’ve always been in the background. Always listening. Always watching. And even though I’m able to live in the background, I still get lonely. It feels as though I know everyone else's struggles, but no one knows mine. And that’s where me and you are the same. You work so hard to make everyone else happy, but you don’t make time to make yourself happy… at least, not in the way you want to be happy.”

He silently cried into the girl’s pillow, taking it all in, listening to every word the girl spoke as if it were a scripture in a holy text. He thought about what she was saying, and he realized that he was right. He had been there to pick everyone else up, but who would be there to pick him up. 

He then remembered what Y/N had said about herself, only for him to realize that he had never noticed the girl at all. He didn’t really know anything about the girl holding him in her arms. 

‘Who is this girl?’ Gar questioned himself before sitting up, forcing himself out of the girl’s arms so that he could actually look at her. But when Gar turned to get a better look, everything around him changed. He wasn’t in Y/N’s bed anymore. He was on his own. And instead of the moonlight seeping through the curtains, the sun's bright beams of light blinded him. He looked down at where the girl once was, but she was nowhere to be found.

Gar stood from his bed, resting his feet on the floor below him. He readjusted his nightshirt before leaving his room. The green-haired boy looked left and right, both curious and confused about what was going on.

He walked through the tower to get to the living room, and he looked at the couch where Gar remembered the girl once sat. Behind him, Dick walked into the room, giving the boy a questioning look. “You okay, Gar?” Dick asked, stepping closer to the boy. Gar stood in his spot as Dick’s words ran on a loop in his head, each time sounding more and more like the girl.

Gar scoffed before turning around to face Dick. Dick called Gar’s name once more before Gar asked, “Where’s Y/N?”

Dick was utterly confused by his question. He didn’t know anyone by that name, and it worried him that Gar was so eager for the girl's whereabouts. “Who’s Y/N,” Dick asked as he tried to get more information out of the boy.

Gar shook his head in disbelief. He saw the girl. She was sitting on the very couch that was sitting right next to him. They talked as if they knew one another, and she held him in her arms. He felt as if he had known the girl. But did he really know the girl?  And it suddenly clicked in his head that before today, he had never noticed the girl.

‘Was it all a dream?’

Taglist: @esposadomd @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

A/N: I know the ending is a little bad and rushed, but I just wanted to add a bit of an element of surprise. It was more of a last-minute choice.

But, if any of you, and I mean ANY of you need someone to talk to, I am here. This story is inspired by my personal life, so I understand. Sometimes we don't know how to ask for help, or we have no one who understands us, but I want you to know that you have a voice when it comes to me. Just DM me, and I will listen.

#fanfic #x reader #fanfiction #masterlist #angst #garfield logan #garfield logan x reader #gar logan #gar logan x reader #titans imagine #titans fanfic #tv: titans #dc comics imagine #dc titans #dc comics fanfiction #ryan potter #ryan potter x reader #titans fanfiction #season 2 #titans season 2 #fluff #dc comics #dick grayson #rachel roth #koriand'r #donna troy #jason todd