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thebisexualdogdad · 9 months

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Summer road trip with the batfam (batfam x GN!reader)

● so Bruce rented an RV for the batfam to go on a three month coast to coast road trip

● no crime fighting, just family time

● with you, Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Barbara, Duke, Cass, Stephanie and of course Haley and Ace it was a bit of a tight squeeze

● Alfred was back at home taking a much needed work free staycation

● Kate was also invited but she refused to be stuck in an RV with ten other people all summer, she and Alfred are happy having breakfast together once a week

● Bruce drives the entire time with Damian as his navigator

● mostly because Damian and Jason would kill each other if they weren't separated

● Jason has purposely instigated fights with Damian by eating his snacks clearly labeled 'Damian' on them

● and sometimes Jason gets accused when it was actually Cass who took Damians snacks

● Barbara has every kind of first aid or bug repellent you can think of

● you stop to go kayaking and she pulls six different kinds of sunscreen out of her bag

● Cass is the one delegated to documenting the trip

● and she takes her job very seriously

● she never not has her camera in her hands either taking pictures or videos

● Stephanie "no Cass we do not need photos of the gas station bathroom"

● and she has photos of everyone sleeping in weird positions on the rv

● and a video of Jason snoring to prove to him that he does in fact snore

● you all take turns on where you guys sleep

● there's one queen sized bed in the back that fits three and the two couches turn into a bed that fits another three and the rest are in sleeping bags on the floor

● Ace and Haley however always sleep cuddling someone in the nice comfy queen bed

● Tim has researched every single place you guys are stopping at

● Bruce thought it would be fun to just wing it and see what happens

● but Tim would not let that happen, he has the entire trip planned out down to what towns you would need to stop in for gas

● places everyone requested to go that Tim denied

● Bruce: the world's biggest ball of yarn because it's a classic road trip must see

● Dick: the corn palace

● Jason: vegas

● Damian: probably like a sword museum in the middle of nowhere that he somehow knows has an authentic ancient sword the museum thinks is a replica

● Barbara: the mothman museum

● Stephanie: Roswell

● Duke: the first taco bell

● Cass: dinosaur world

● you do stop at multiple national parks

● going hiking and swimming in little lakes with their own waterfalls

● Jason tries to sneak a snake he finds back onto the RV

● Duke "Oh no, absolutely not, get that thing out of here"

● Damian "you afraid of a little old snake Thomas?"

● Duke "that thing is not little, it is a deadly creature and I do not want it anywhere near me!"

● the RV breaks down outside a town in Wyoming with no cell service

● you all argue about who has to walk the five miles into town to get help

● Bruce and Dick are the two that end up having to do it

● when they return Damian has Tim in a headlock and Cass is taking video of it

● the random guy with the tow truck they brought back "uhh are they okay"

● Bruce "Oh yeah this is normal for them"

● you and Stephanie ended up breaking the no crime fighting rule when you went into a convenience store for more snacks and walked right into a robbery in action

● you two kicked their asses with ease, tied them up for the cops and bought your snacks like nothing happened

● Barbara back at the RV "Y/N is that blood on your face?"

● "nope don't worry about it!"

● Dick brings lots of board games to play while on the road

● Tim and Damian go way too hard trying to win which you have to play mediator for before they try to throw each other out the moving RV

● Jason still loses even though he cheats

● and Stephanie pretends not to know the rules just to mess with Tim and Damian

● you also stop at a bunch of campgrounds, telling ghost stories and having s'mores around a fire

● Barbara "has anyone seen Jason?"

● Dick "I'm pretty sure he said something about being excited to finally cross off peeing in the woods off his bucket list"

● Duke "he has the weirdest bucket list"

● a lot of you are big readers so there's books packed everywhere

● Duke "ooh we should have a book club"

● Jason "absolutely not you're lucky I even participate in Grayson's lame board games"

● Damian "for once I actually agree with Todd"

● you guys finally make it to the west coast and you all stumble out of the RV

● Tim "thank God this trip is finally over"

● Bruce "Tim we are only half way, we still have another month of driving back to Gotham"

● Stephanie "I should have stayed home with Alfred"

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yourmomxx · 2 years

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Duke: Dad jokes are so interesting, because they will take something as simple as “Are you hungry” and respond with “No I’m Dad” and find it hilarious

Damian: We’re in the middle of a mission right now, are you kidding me?

Duke: No, I’m Duke

#i find myself funny #batfamily #duke thomas #damian wayne #incorrect dc quotes #batboys #batboys imagine #dc comics #damian wayne imagine #duke thomas imagine #robin imagine #batboys x reader #batfamily imagine

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unmotivatedwrit3r · 1 year

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One More Sleep pt.1

batboys x reader

(A/N): Happy Holidays all! I was listening to this song and decided to write a blurb series about the batboys getting home early Christmas morning and have actually stuck to it so here's part 1! Part 2 will be out tomorrow but what it contains will depend on what I get written in the next 24 hours so we'll see what happens. [Edit: find pt. 2 here.] Many thanks to Red for brainstorming help. This series wouldn't exist if not for them. Also thanks to my sister who has read these and deemed them "tooth-rotting fluff." She's a Duke fan despite knowing nothing about DC other than what she hears from me.

And I've decided to dedicate these two parts to my lovely mutuals so @citrinesparkles, this one is for you. I hope you enjoy!

And Merry Christmas to all who celebrate!

total wc: ~1800

warnings: non-graphic mentions of injury, exhaustion, specific mentions of Christmas, so. much. fluff.

Dick Grayson

wc: ~700

Dick yawns as he glances up at the screen in the airport. Baggage claim 6 holds the bags for the nonstop Christmas Eve flight from California to Gotham, apparently. He checks his watch: 1:30am. Well, Christmas now. Usually his family doesn't take commercial flights back from missions, but Dick’s cover demanded he take one from San Francisco to Gotham so he could use visiting California as his excuse.

Dick hikes his bag a little higher on his shoulders, wincing a little as his elbow tweaks even with the brace, and heads to the escalator that would lead him to the baggage claim. This early on Christmas morning, the airport is quieter than usual and the everyday Gotham bustle has been replaced with a weird sort of hollowness ringing in the air. Dick stretches his neck out—sore from hours on the javelin then the plane—and stops short. He can feel a smile spreading across his face. It’s nearly 2am on Christmas day and yet there you are: standing by the baggage claim with a thermos in one hand, the other crossed over your chest. He sees the moment you lay eyes on him in real time, when your eyes light up and a smile splits your features, and there’s a beat of warmth in his chest. He gets to have that—no one else.

Dick picks up his pace as you head towards him. And then your arms are around him and the solemnity of an empty airport can’t get to him anymore.

You pull back first, arms around his neck shifting for one hand to cup his face before you pull him to a kiss.

“Merry Christmas, Dickie,” you say, forehead resting against his temple.

“Merry Christmas, babe,” Dick whispers. He pulls back this time, his left hand winding around your free one. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

You smile, handing him the thermos.

“Bruce sent me the flight details—it’s hot chocolate, I made it before I left—Bruce sent me the details and I said I’d pick you up to surprise you.”

Dick squeezes your hand as the two of you walk back towards the baggage claim. It’s moving now, a stilted circling around, though there are no bags yet.

“Best gift I could have asked for.”

“Oh so you don’t want the matching sweaters I bought for us the other day? Okay then.”

Dick hands you the thermos so he can grab his suitcase as it appears around the bend, playing devastated.

“Oh come on babe you know I have a weakness for sweaters,” he teases. You take the suitcase from him as soon as it touches the ground, swapping it with the thermos, and pull your linked hands over your shoulder, guiding him out of the airport and into the cold Gotham air. His energy is flagging now, even as the wind bites at his face, adrenaline from seeing you fading back into the after-mission kind of tired that a half-nap on a plane can’t fix.

Dick blinks his eyes open and he’s standing in front of your car. He opens the passenger door on autopilot, dropping his bag at his feet and placing the thermos into a cup holder in the center console. He climbs in and pulls the door shut before putting on his seatbelt and leaning against the window. Behind him, the trunk slams shut. The driver’s door opens and you turn the key in the ignition, sparking a burst of warm air from the vents. Dick shivers, still leaning against the car window.

Your hand, cold from outside, finds his and squeezes. Dick squeezes back, eyes half lidded now. He wants nothing more than to turn on the radio and sing Christmas songs with you for the 25 minutes it’ll take to get to his childhood home, but he’s quickly losing to his exhaustion.

There’s a nose pressed briefly against his cheekbone and warm lips pressed to his cheek for just a second before they withdraw.

“Take a nap,” you suggest. You selflessly know what’s best for him, always. Making sure you know a million times over will just have to be his new year’s resolution. He’s too tired now. “I’ll wake you when we get to the manor. Everyone’s already expecting us down at noon tomorrow. We’re doing brunch.”

And Dick, warm in adoration and surrounded by pine-scented car air freshener, lets his eyes flutter closed.

Jason Todd:

wc: ~450

The first thing Jason sees when the door opens is the clock above the electric fireplace, 3:02am blinking at him in red. The second is the christmas tree, bathing the living room in a soft glow. The fact that the tree is on tells him you’re not asleep in bed. If you were, you’d have left a lamp on for him. Jason feels his lips quirk up as he strides further into the apartment. There you are, on the couch, like you try to be every night he’s out late. Sometimes you wait him out: finish a book or binge watch a TV show. Sometimes, he gets home to you passed out on the couch.

Tonight, you’re dead to the world, snoring faintly. Jason feels something in his chest squeeze pleasantly. You’re wearing his long-sleeved tee, wrapped in the blanket Alfred made him years ago. He is yours and you are his, and if the fireplace doesn't say that well enough, then the matching apartment keys certainly do.

Jason detangles you from the blanket before pulling you into his arms. He’s done this same song and dance time and time before—you lose the battle to sleep more than you win—but the knowledge that you love him enough to try still sits heavy in his chest. All these years in, and he can’t believe you choose him every night. Guilt settles in his chest as he places you on the bed, red sheets and holiday comforter pulled up over you. It’s Christmas morning now; he’s missed Christmas Eve. Again. And then he turns to the dresser and sees his santa pj pants and a shirt laid out on top and remembers that he’s so much better with you than without you and maybe that’s selfish but it’s Christmas and he’s allowed to be selfish just this once.

A quick face wash, change into pjs, and one teeth brushing later, Jason’s crawling into bed. His hair is mostly dry from the shower he took at the batcave before he headed home, and he’s more grateful now that it’s not dripping down his neck than he was when Dick was needling him about it in the batcave.

Your eyes blink blearily when he pulls the blankets up around him.

“Jay?”

You’re moving towards him before he can respond and Jason’s arms come up automatically to wrap around you.

“Yeah,” he answers. His voice is hoarse, stripped from him by the unadulterated care you show him, even half-asleep.

“Hm. Merry Christmas. I love you,” you say, shifting your head to rest on his chest.

You’re asleep once more before his voice unsticks, and he tightens his grip, pulling you closer against him.

“I love you too.”

Duke Thomas:

wc: ~650

Duke opens the door to his shared apartment at 12:30am on Dec 25. He’s actually earlier than he thought he’d be. The snow that made his trip longer let up enough to let him head home 18 hours ago, which means he gets to wake up Christmas morning with his partner and he’s ecstatic.

The first thing he hears is a rustling of paper and a frantic “Waitwaitwaitwait, close your eyes!”

Duke stops short, one hand over his closed eyes and the other shutting the front door behind him.

“My eyes are closed,” he informs you, a smile crossing his face. He missed you so much. Duke can hear as you stand up and walk over to him, socked feet light on the floor.

“Keep your eyes closed,” you warn as your arms wrap around him. He obeys even as he tips his head onto your shoulder. You smell like laundry detergent and holiday candles and home.

A crushing hug later and you pull away, a hand on his back nudging him towards the bedroom. He nearly trips trying to kick off his shoes and lets you guide him. Once he’s crossed the bedroom doorway, Duke turns around to look at you. You’re in Christmas pajamas and your hair is messy, but your eyes are shining brightly even in the dim light. You pull him down for a quick kiss.

“I’ll let you know when I’m done wrapping, okay? Now take a shower, you smell like a gym locker room.”

Duke laughs and ducks his head down for another kiss.

“I’d argue but I’ve also been smelling me recently so I agree.” You laugh back at him, squeezing his bicep before you turn back to the living room.

“Love you!” Duke calls out as he closes the door.

“Love you too!”

Duke’s halfway through his shower before he realizes that he hasn’t wrapped his gifts. Okay, that’s not exactly fair. He’s wrapped some of them, when you and he wrapped everything for your respective families together before he left. He hasn’t wrapped your gifts. You take great joy in teasing him about it every year. He remembers to shop but always forgets the second step so you usually do it together. Except he can’t wrap your gifts with you there and now it’s Christmas and he still hasn’t done it.

“Hey starlight?” Duke yells from just outside the bedroom door. He’s got a hand over his eyes again even though they’re closed, and is dressed in a t-shirt and pj pants—the pants match yours: dark green with Christmas lights on them.

“Yeah sunshine?” You call back. It’s a little absentminded, and he smiles at the routine call and response. He can’t remember when it started, but you started calling him sunshine at some point and you’re the nighttime to balance his day so he ran through a few and that one stuck.

“Can I have the wrapping paper?” There’s a pause and then a laugh.

“I’ve just got to cut paper for this last present and then I’ll bring it over.” There’s a little bit of shuffling and then scissors cutting paper and then a roll of wrapping paper bumping against his free hand.

“Have fun,” you tell him, and he can hear the smile in your voice. “I’ll knock when I’m done.”

Duke’s working on his second gift when there’s a knock on the bedroom door.

“When you’re done, I’ll be on the couch.”

“Thanks, starlight!” Duke calls back through the door. Two more gifts and he’s finished, and he opens the door to walk back into the living room. Duke leans the present against the ones already at home under the tree then stands up, eyes flicking to the clock before landing on you.

“Bed?” You ask, reaching a hand out.

“Bed,” he agrees, taking your hand. Sure, it’s Christmas already, but the presents are second to eight hours wrapped in each other’s arms.

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apocalypse-shuffle · 1 year

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JASON TODD & DUKE THOMAS (generalized canon)

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“A Word Of Warning” (Jason Todd x Fem!Reader) and (Duke Thomas & Platonic!Reader)

| The Bats clock you as a known associate of The Red Hood and Signal ends up tracking you down for some answers.

| SFW, Jason isn’t apart of the Bat Clan, Caribbean-American!reader(just a bit; for the plot)

| This’s technically based off of a story I’m working on but because of where I have it placed in the timeline this idea with Duke (who’s who I thought of originally for it) wouldn’t really fit because Duke wouldn’t be old enough yet so yeah. (picture source: new talent showcase #1 comic)

| 4k+ words

Beg. NOTES: This is the first time I’ve ever written either Duke or Antagonist Red Hood (as opposed to just Jason or Red Hood making nice) so bare with me I’m still figuring them out, especially Duke. Also I am going to quit this app if it keeps deleted my shit, omfg.

Other notions notwithstanding you’re of the opinion Gotham looks its best right before sunset. The city’s ever present shadows coming out of hiding to climb up the horizon and take over the sun were incredibly fitting considering who kept vigil of the place. And you loved the way the weaker heat felt against your skin on cooler days like this one before you blended into the lack of light that came at nightfall.

There was just something to be said about two forces so intrinsic to the universe meeting. Of light breeze and dwindling blaze. Of sitting near the edge of a roof, feet almost dangling over the side of too dangerous, and taking it all in.

Of the blaring of cars in the late rush of the oncoming evening and the way the air shifts just a little to your left. Natural flow blocked by some anomaly. Out of place but easy enough to overlook. Too bad to whichever cape’s appeared that you’ve been listening out for that particular party trick for the last half a year. Although it admittedly wasn’t something you worried about during the day.

“Let me guess? Hands in the air?”

“Hell no,” a voice scoffs. “I’m just here as a concerned party. If I were some cop I wouldn’t’ve even let you talk before I had you in cuffs. Knee in your back too probably.”

A shrug of your shoulder is a decent enough answer in your book. You don’t feel like adding to the list of vigilantes you regularly interact with - more acceptable than the police though they were. Not even a little.

“No disrespect, but get to the point. We both know you didn’t start lurking on me just cause.”

He kisses his teeth, you can’t tell whether it’s out of irritation or not.

“Fine. I found you out. A crime lord? Really?”

There it is. You turn to him then, immediately caught up by how bright his costume is even against Gotham’s sun. Everything in the city was just a little askew and the way the sun beat down on y’all was no exception, but he somehow came across brighter.

He’s particolored yellow against the dark gothic backgrounds of your old-as-sin apartment complex, not hiding in the shadows or completely out in the open, but a third secret option: managing to be swallowed by them without trying regardless. The leftover light in the sky doing nothing to thwart how well he’s hidden. Like a moth to the dark he still manages to blur just at the corner of your vision, dark tendrils crawling up his form and sinking near seamlessly into his suit; clashing colors ombreing and turning parts of it flaxon.

“I wasn’t aware you were my keeper.”

The idea of craning your head any longer isn’t exactly appealing, and it’s not as if you’d be able to do anything if he tried something, so you look back out over the city eyes narrowing when he speaks.

“Hood might keep a close eye on the Narrows, and I might even appreciate it sometimes, but over here is still my territory.”

“Right,” you grunt. That wasn’t exactly the answer you were gearing up for. You’d expected something along the lines of his ‘boss’ having sent him. “Well what gave me away then?”

“We knew you had to have been from North considering Hood’s change in visiting pattern was only half an inch outside of the Alley, but me?” He steps out of the shadows and looking at him makes your eyes burn even without him using his powers. Bright colors in Gotham should be damn outlawed. “Hoodie and mask or not. There’s only three women with that accent in the Narrows, Y/n. I checked for multi citizenship from areas with Caribbean dialects, then found your mom, which led me to you since she was too old to be messing with the Red Hood.”

“Fuck,” you curse in a rush, gaping at the escaping light in the sky.

“Yeah, you should really work on masking that.”

“Shit.” You had thought you were. “I made sure I was yanking the whole time, there's no way. You must’ve followed me home or something.”

“Bet.”

That’s all he says. No follow up proposal, no fluffing up his sentence to cover for being called out, nothing. Just a cocky upturn of one corner of his mouth and that self assured silence.

“…Fuck.”

“Yeah,” he slips down to your left, sitting beside you. “It’s hard for you to get rid of how you elongate your a’s. It’s a super distinct ‘ah’ sound if you know what to look for and I just so happen to know. But don’t worry I haven’t told Batman yet.”

“Yet?”

“Yes, yet. I might not be the oldest hero on the block but I know bad decisions when I see them.”

“Make your fair share, have you?”

Your murmur comes out more defensive than you want. First he was telling you you couldn’t hide your accent for shit - despite having practiced extensively with Hood - and now he was telling you The Batman wanted in your business. Fuck indeed.

Would you go to jail for being associated with a known criminal? Does dating a killer count as accessory to every one of his crimes? Can you believably argue ignorance of his actions? These really do feel like questions you should’ve asked beforehand.

There’s the distinct impression he’s rolling his eyes under that visor when Signal responds next.

��Hilarious, but this isn’t about me. It’s about whether you know what you’ve gotten yourself into,” he laughs a little when you scowl. “I’m just saying. You're not the Bonnie to his Clyde - or whatever cutesy metaphor you wanna use - you haven’t done anything offensable. It's not too late you can’t get out.”

You scoff quietly and go back to watching the night’s hues slowly swallowing the day's light whole. “Who says I want out?” It’s pretty the way the colors swirl. Like a fight.

“Why wouldn’t you?” He looks away from you frowning, marring what you can see of his face, before holding his hand up. “No wait, don’t answer that, just hear me out. I get it - wanting to help - I really do and I’d be lying through my teeth if I said I didn't support it. But if you don’t know what you’re about, leave while you still can. This superhero thing gets less about creed and more about survival the further you get sucked into it and once the rest of the Bats are onto you that’s it.”

Oh that would definitely be ‘it’, but not tonight. Tapping the screen of your otherwise forgotten phone shows the thirty six minutes of time you've got before seven o'clock to get to where Hood asked you to meet near the city hall district.

“I’m sorry, do you have something better to do than listen to me trying to save your life?”

You grimace lightly, “Listen, I appreciate the concern but if you're not going to do anything but tell me shit I already know I’m just- gonna go.”

“Alright, I know a cape tracking you down ain’t fun but come on-” he cuts himself off so fast his teeth audibly clink together then all at once he’s standing again.

You tense yourself, breath catching in your throat, and roll around so you can see where he’s facing. There’s a second where nothing meets you but the cresting shadows and bronze lighting desperately spreading its fingers over gravel. It’s quiet save for the swooping breeze then Signal twitches. It’s like a chill has gone through his body, like something tugged on wrong when somebody’s hand is in your hair.

An ice struck down your spine type of grimace that has you cringing in sympathy.

Just as Signal steps fully in front of you the shadows around the concrete bulkhead a few feet away stretch outward before materializing into something person shaped. Signal shivers again like he can feel the elasticity.

“Narrows! Funny seeing you here,” a harsh mechanized voice sounds. Dark tactical gear slowly becomes discernible from the shade as the person moves closer until that telltale flash of red greets you both.

Your breath un-catches and you breathe out harshly through your nose, clambering to your feet. He was ten minutes too early and miles away from the southeast side.

“Not really, considering I live here and all, but whatever.”

In response the guy takes another step closer. Signil’s hand twitches but he doesn’t move for the eskrima you all know is at his back.

“Right, well, I don’t really appreciate people messing with my informants.”

“I’d suggest not meeting them so out in the open then,” he gives a blight shrug.

The newest rooftop occupant shakes his head with a low chuckle.

“I wasn’t. You guys are just nosy and -uh- what am I forgetting?” He snaps his fingers, somehow managing to make it sound incredibly obnoxious. “Oh, that’s right! I was also in civies. What’s next, you guys gonna bombard the owner of the bodega I shop at too?”

“I wasn’t bombarding her. I was passing on a message.”

Hood nods and his voice reverberates in a low growl through the modulator when he hums. “Mmm, okay well. Y/n?”

“Message received,” you brush some roof gravel from your clothes still trying to decide how you feel about him coming to your ‘rescue’ like this.

“Well you heard the lady, Narrows. See ya later.”

“Listen man, I’m not trying to fight if I don’t have to, but do you really think this’s a good idea?”

“You know what, Signal? I like you so I’ll keep that noted, but you tell Daddy Bats if he forces the issue it’ll officially become my business. Now kindly fuck off, the suns setting.”

There’s a pause where the two of them just stare one another down and then Signal crosses his arms, feet planted.

“If I don’t?”

“Wow,” Jason groans, head falling into his hands for a beat before he looks back up. The blank face of the helmet doesn’t give anything away but the way he lets his body slump, hands falling to his sides, is telling enough. As much as you like Signal you kinda agree. “How does he put up with you?”

The vigilante shrugs, “He couldn’t stop me if he wanted; better to just get in the passenger’s seat.”

“Poetic,” he scoffs. “Alright, let me put it this way. You're a smart kid, you know nothing’ll happen if she’s seen with some unknown white guy but what about when people catch on that Batman’s interested in her? What then?”

It takes a second, and Signal doesn’t uncross his arms, but his shoulders lower and he shifts his weight to one side.

“Us poking around is more dangerous for her than your civilian identity, I got it.” He huffs. You can see his grimace even from behind. “But that doesn’t mean I got to trust her with you.”

“Wrong.” Jason rises back to his full height with a shake of his head. “This isn’t up for debate. She’s not going anywhere.”

You jerk forward, walking a few steps in front of Signal so you can stand to the side of him while still being seen by both males, scowl taking over your features.

“She - if anybody’s curious - does still possess the ability to make her own decisions. I know what I’m doing, I don’t need a babysitter.”

Signal turns to you with the most dubious head tilt. “You’re sure you know what you're doing?”

You cross your arms, “Fuck you, I’m figuring it out.”

A beat goes by of everyone collectively doing their best impression of a gaggle of directionless mimes before Signal groans.

“Say I believe you. How exactly do you expect me to keep Batman off of your tail when he figures your identity out?”

When Hood laughs it’s so hard the responder crackles in and out of clarity. He waves Signal off. “I’ll deal with him, don’t sweat it.”

The way Signal’s pressing his weight forward says for all the world that he would very much like to sweat it, but he still sighs anyway, dropping his arms to unclip his grapple. He looks to you for a second time.

“You’ll tell me if anything happens?”

The response you give is mostly shrug.

“Sure, Kid, whatever, you’ll be the first one I call,” you throw out while glaring in the general direction of Jason’s eyes. In any case, Signal being added to the list was better than Batman.

The diurnal bat accepts your words with a small smile, shoots Jason what you can only assume to be a warning look, and then swings off with an elated whoop to switch shifts with the rest of the clan.

“And don’t follow me like that again, thanks!” you call out to the vigilante’s retreating form. Mostly though the words are for Jason who’s managed to tuck himself back near the shadows, setting sun washing over him from behind and making him look a lot like a red dahlia set ablaze.

“Did you hear me good?” With the other gone you allow yourself to turn to Jason headlong.

“Y/n-”

“Nope. No,” you parry, moving closer. “What happened to ‘meet at city hall’?”

“You weren’t moving,” he throws out while pushing off the concrete to intercept you. His hands glide up your arms till he can grasp onto your forearms and turn you around, hold more cradle than control as he guides you to the wall.

You let him do it but the furrow in your brows doesn’t budge. The mask, red and frustratingly unyielding, does much the same with far less effort.

“Now how,” you click your tongue. “Did you know that?”

The second your back brushes along the wall he stops responding, helmet tipping this way and that.

“He didn’t come anywhere near touching me,” you roll your eyes. “Did you put a tracker on me?”

Jason shrugs, doesn’t bother answering you in any direction.

“What were you two getting all yuppy about?”

The corner of your mouth twitches downward and you don’t bother fixing it.

“Hood,” you ground out, body a tense obstruction as you get in his face enough he can’t keep up his examination.

In turn Jason doesn’t give an inch but the sound that comes out of the modulator is harsh, likely just a heavy sigh, but your fists ball regardless; too keyed up to parse out the difference.

“Your find my phone app works perfectly fine.”

“Oh,” you shift your gaze away from glowing eyes to look at the moon overlapping some of the last remnants of the sun's rays, features evening out. He waits until you slump back into the wall to speak next.

“You done?”

Lips pursed you give into that deadpan tone with a tiny shrug.

“Yeah I’m done.”

A beat or five goes by, you’re not sure cause you’re not watching, before he sighs shoulders coming in and out of your peripheral.

“C'mon Slick,” Jason intones quietly. He reaches to the back of the helmet and releases the catch. His brows are practically furrowed over his domino when you’re finally able to get a good look at him and he tucks the helmet into his side, pointing at you with his free hand. “I’m just watching out for you. You have got to keep yourself outta trouble.”

“Please I would hardly count that as ‘trouble’,” you push his hand away and slip off around him to walk to the roof access door. “And you told them I was your informant, really?”

You don’t react to the ‘oh my god’ he breathes out behind you but you do let the door close in his face when you walk into the stairwell.

It’s petty but the name of the game currently seems to be how petty can you get so at least you aren’t breaking any rules.

You've already made it halfway to the hallway entrance when Jason flings the heavy metal open with a low curse. “Would you rather the alternative?”

“I would rather a partner who trusts me.”

The door slams shut and the only thing lighting the way is the sickly colored lights, the palest possible imitation of the now sleeping sun, and the scarcely lit red EXIT hanging above the top landing. None of that manages to hinder how open Jason's body language has become or stop you from reading the hurt from him when you chance a second long glance backward.

“I do trust you- just not against a cape. Not right now.”

“Hmph.” You don’t stop or turn around but you slow your gait so you’re not thundering down the steps anymore. “But not never?”

“Evidently,” he grunts, coming down the stairs in that oddly silent way that doesn’t even make the air being displaced under his feet echo. “Now what the hell’s got you so up in arms?”

“There’s nothing ‘up’ with me.” The hall door opens by your hand a sliver of the way before one of Jason’s hands clasps over yours on the lever and forces it back into place. It makes you jump, he hadn’t sounded so close.

The click of the latch bolt sounds suspiciously final. You puff out a light breath. It hits the door in one streamlined wave of nerves. In the meantime Jason’s body presses along the length of your back like he belongs there; it’s so natural. You shiver and relax your hand on the handle. Allow it to slip off with his own when he lets go.

“Aren’t we supposed to be working on this shit? Talk to me, will you?”

Rocking back on your heels to mold into his warmth you close your eyes, head falling onto his chest.

“If I don’t?”

He matches your whisper with one of his own, words nearly coiling around you with his delivery.

“If there’s zero stubborn people in the world then you’re dead, Y/n. We both know I can’t make you do fuck all.”

“Hmm,” you scoff quietly. “If there’s no stubborn people left you’d have to be dead too, you know?”

“I don’t think I’d mind being dead with you too much,” Jason says while knocking your heads lightly together. It makes you snort and you turn around with another sigh to face him.

“Corny ass,” you say. Jason shrugs.

“For you, yeah.”

“Oh my god,” you laugh at the smile that tugs at his lips. “When did we trade places?”

“Beats the hell outta me,” he steps in front of the nothing you’re staring at so you’ll stop avoiding his gaze. “Now talk.”

You track the bend of his mouth. The easy smile that’s only now - finally, after a year - becoming real and you fold faster than a snapped leg in an interrogation.

“The tracking scares me,” you let out in a rush.

He tenses, that grin disappears, and you want to swallow your words back.

“We can cut the tracker-”

“Nah that’s not what I meant. I don’t…mind it when it’s you. I know what you’re doing with the information, but…” you swallow, looking over then up at the door.

Out of the corner of your eye the thin line of his lips turns into a grimace and then a sneer.

“But Batman,” he grunts and you nod, humorless laugh falling past plush lips.

“Yeah, the fucking Batman - and I know you’ve got me and I’m not gonna harp on it cause I don’t wanna stimulate the little hate boner you’ve got for the man - but this is…a lot.”

Jason bites the inside of his cheek and you watch him stew over what you’ve just said. His forehead creases and his brows raise and his frown somehow gets deeper and then he inhales.

“It’s not too late for you to get out.”

His jaw clenches like he’s just tasted something unappealing but won’t admit it and you raise a brow.

“Huh. You know Signal said the same thing?”

It takes a beat before he can pry his mouth open.

“Did he?”

His voice is too soft like you’re about to tell him someone died and it makes your heart rattle.

“Yup,” you say, voice still hushed.

“And?”

You feel the exact second your gazes meet. Feel so intricately the way watercolor blue meets copper brown as if it was a physical thing. The domino over his eyes does nothing to mask that natural intensity.

A deep breath.

“And I’m in this until it blows up in my face, consequences be damned, if the Bat’s not willing to put in the effort then I will. We deserve that much.”

“The Alley does,” he concedes slowly, “but that doesn’t mean you have to sacrifice yourself for it.”

You’d thought you’d known longing before Jason Todd but watching him now you know with certainty the man wears it better than you ever could. A fitting but unflattering cloak. Effective in hiding against the moon and her subjects alike.

“Neither do you.”

He glances away. You can tell because your breaths get clearer. The rush of being known flushed from your system.

Jason laughs once, more a grunt than anything. “Let’s not get into that.”

“Fine,” you shrug. “I'm just saying though. I don’t have to do everything - and I’m not going to. That self sacrificing shit is your deal not mine - but I’m still a part of this. I’m straight, okay? I don’t need you getting me out.”

“Alright,” he hums and indicates the door with his chin. “Go inside, I'll meet you in a minute.”

You’re tired, you want to be done, so you were moving before he was even mid sentence. You’d come directly from work to the roof so-. Right. The roof. Your bed would have to wait for a couple more minutes.

You stop and turn back to face him. “What about city hall?”

He waves you off with a blithe movement.

“Eh, it’s not so time sensitive we can’t put it off for one day. Now go. I gotta contact my guys, but I’ll cook tonight.”

“Oh will you?” you joke, holding out your arms in surrender and making to back out of the stairway. You’re reaching around to grasp at the handle when he starts forward with a tiny stumble and gets a hold around your waist.

“Hold on. I - ah -” his licks his lips, “I wanna kiss you.”

“Oh,” you giggle, gaze flicking momentarily down to slick lips. “Sure.”

The both of you stall on what to do for a second. His grip is loose and your hands flutter between his face and shoulders - too scared to land and too eager to touch all at once. Eventually though Jason scoffs at himself and gives you an encouraging squeeze that has you melting, and it doesn’t seem all that challenging anymore.

You laugh into the kiss he gives you, settling on having one hand cupping his jaw and the other wrapped around his bicep. The momentum of your lips is smoother this go round. Your teeth still clink together but there’s no awkward stop-start to figure out how to angle your heads or not bump noses.

When you pull apart it’s genuine disappointment that tugs at your chest that you can’t meet his eyes.

“Bye,” he murmurs.

You shake your head. “In a minute...”

The urge for another shorter kiss has you meeting again and Jason’s hands pull you closer like he’s trying to push you into the gaps of his ribcage and his mouth moves against yours with the severity of a promise. This time when you seperate the tug seems harsher. You think he feels it too with the way his breath stutters but he recovers faster. Gets in an extra squeeze at your sides before letting go. You try not to make the disappointment that flares at that noticeable.

“Bye,” you say. It doesn’t matter that he’ll be crawling through your window in less than thirty minutes, you peck him on the lips one more time anyway before dropping your hands and disappearing out into the hall. “And tell Oyoung to give me back my damn mini. I know she took it; how’s she just gonna steal a whole taser like that?”

Jason’s snort at your words follows you into brighter lighting - more reminiscent of the moon’s cool unwavering roundness than the sun's sharp edges - and the short trek back to your apartment feels weightless.

End.NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!

Alt Paragraph: “Bye,” you say. It doesn’t matter that he’ll be crawling through your window in less than thirty minutes, you peck him on the lips one more time anyway before dropping your hands and disappearing out into the hall. “And tell Oyoung to give me back my damn curl enhancer. I know she took it; how’s she just gonna steal a whole jar?”

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

#jason todd #duke thomas #black!reader #black y/n #red hood #the signal #jason todd x black!reader #red hood x black!reader #Caribbean!Reader #duke thomas x platonic!reader #duke thomas x black!reader #platonic!black reader #platonic reader #duke thomas x reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #duke thomas imagine #black!batsis

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gatorbites-imagines · 1 year

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As someone that came from a family where older siblings regularly pick up and throw younger siblings around(always onto something soft). I'd like to request batfam boys taking turns tossing eachother or the older boys playing catch with Damian as the ball.

Batboys

Headcanons

- I could definitely see the boys throwing each other around, Damian despises when they pick him up and throw him cuz hes so tiny.

- If its not Damian its Tim or Duke, who put up with it more than Damian will. At some Point I think Damian just comes to accept that this is how the batfam bonds. Its either this, fighting crime, or swinging from the chandelier which Alfred does not want them to do.

- Dick does all kinds of crazy flips and twists when he’s the one being thrown around, because why not. He makes a real show out of it too, which means he ends up doing flips and summersaults so much the others can’t catch him, so they just move on to throwing someone else around.

- They can’t throw Jason around, mans it too heavy to be chucked around, so he just uses his weight to flop down on the floor when they try to pick him up.

- Tim curls up in a tight ball when he’s the one being thrown around, he finds it quite fun actually. Plus, it’s good for bonding if you ask him. He makes sure to do rolls when he gets thrown onto something soft, and then come at whoever threw him with a vengeance.

- Duke is so surprised when he gets picked up one day and just chucked onto the couch from across the room, when he looks around in confusion Dick just shrugs and says that’s how they bond here.

- Damian wouldn’t accept being thrown around like I said earlier, that is unless he’s bribed to let them do it. He’s still not happy about it, but he lets them, he might also secretly like it because it means he gets to be held by his siblings.

#batfam #batman #dc #batfam imagine #batfam headcanon #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson headcanon #jason todd imagine #jason todd headcanon #duke thomas headcanon #duke thomas imagine #tim drake headcanon #tim drake imagine #damian wayne headcanon #damian wayne imagine #batman imagine #batman headcanon #dc imagine #dc headcanon

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og-danny-dorito · 2 years

Text

[ 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 ]

𝐓𝐖: none

dick:

HES ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE WHO ARE LIKE "omg im SOO bad for that" but it's something tame like sleeping in an hour later than normal??

he's not super strict with his sleep schedule or anything but as he's grown older he's more used to routine of being a detective

so sleeping in isn't something he can do all that often :[

that and he sleeps really light and lives in the city so any time he can get somewhere peaceful to rest where there arent a bunch of outside noises he sleeps in

jason:

jason is the polar opposite of dick.

he's like "oh i mean its not that bad or anything" even though he's telling you about how he eats entire tubs of ice cream after missions instead of actually feeding himself

usually by the time a mission is over his blood sugar is really low and he doesnt have enough energy to order food

and its not like he has premade stuff at every safehouse he goes to cause the fridges are really just for over bake pizzas and beer if he wants some and bodies

he just really likes ice cream though so its not really a surprise

sometime's he'll watch musicals WHILE eating the tub of ice cream

he calls it self care (it is most definitely not)

duke:

quentin tarintino films.

he likes to pretend that hes like a normal film fan who doesnt watch shit a thousand times but he does

he watches them multiple times and cant get sick of them

theyre almost kind of like comfort films?? like he views them escapism even though most of the shit in them is stuff he sees everyday

idk but he likes them a lot. that and it gives him something to talk to jason about becuase theyre both film nerds

damian:

he likes to pretend that he doesn't enjoy things like everyone else on the planet but he tears up snacks in the middle of the night

its not even like normal amounts of snacks either

everyone knows bruce's loaded so he can provide enough to satiate all of his kids' late night snacking needs but damian tears through stuff like goldish, cheeze-its, and anything cracker-y that you can fit in your mouth easily

its so bad that every time alfred restocks the pantry he has to end up storing things away and gradually refiling them over the week because damian eats them so fast

tim had been witness to many of his late night feasts but he's bound to a mutual vow of silence cause of his bad habits

tim:

he has a problem with staying up really late and ordering takeout multiple times out of the week

he's literally the heir to wayne enterprises so its not like he cant afford it, but it means that he ends up not really taking care of himself

tim survives off of takeout, ramen, and coffee and no one knows how he's still alive

him and damian have a mutual agreement not to snitch on each other since they usually find themselves both in the kitchen at 3 AM making coffee and scouring the pantry for cheese crackers (respectively)

[ 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 :] ]

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hellishattempt · 1 year

Text

angst superache songs as relationships with the batboys pt 3

this is the final part of the three !! i decided to try my hand at writing something for bruce and duke, even though both are like,,,, unknown quantities of the dcu. i mean, i know bruce, obviously. i own every batman game / movie and this big ass book on the batman. but duke? duke is a foreign language to me. and i speak a LOT of languages. so bear with me on this.

like before, this is gender neutral reader / no pronouns used <3

you can find part one ( dick + jason ) here & part two ( tim and damian ) here !

footnote - bruce wayne. the billionaire, philanthropist playboy is many things to many people, but to you, he's your childhood friend, and business partner. as the ceos of wayne enterprises and inkling incorporation, the two of you have worked closely, especially as bruce decided to step into his role more. having known bruce for so long, you know all about his public persona. he's a playboy, with extravagant and foreign women on his arm every night, and it's never the same woman. you're close enough with alfred to know all about bruce's "sleepovers". but you'd be lying if you said you didn't have feelings for bruce. it's stupid, you know this, to be in love with someone like bruce wayne. tonight, the two of you are hosting a gala for one of the charities you both fund. and tonight, you've had just a little bit too much to drink. "evening, brucie" you slur slightly, a glass of champagne between your lips. bruce was in the middle of what looked like an intense conversation with lucius fox, a friend and owner of foxteca. bruce looked to you, noticing your drunken state, and apologized to lucius. "we'll have to continue this later," then he turns to you. grabbing you just above the elbow, bruce rushes the two of you to a more private corner of the venue. "are- are you drunk?" he sounds incredulous. "i've never seen you drunk before. you need to sober up." bruce reaches to take the glass from your hands. as he does, you lean in and whisper into his ear "i like you, brucie." a giggle escapes from your lips. bruce's face is serious and stern. "sober. up. now's not the time for lies and jokes." you frown. "but why would i lie, when it's so clear that i'm in love with you?" a tense conversation follows. bruce likes someone else. you say, "if i waited, would that maybe help?" but bruce says patience won't change how he felt. someone calls out to bruce and he's gone in a second, his public mask back on. you're left standing alone. you leave the party silently. on monday, you're sober and yourself again. you play off your confession as a joke and blame it on the alcohol when bruce comes to check in on you. pretending you don't feel anything is easier than him thinking of you as some lovesick girl. you have to stop being pretentious and loathing your friendship with bruce. it's okay, because this taught you a lesson: love isn't precious. it's not like the novels, no pride and prejudice at all. so you'll just take the footnote in his life. he could take your body, your soul, your mind, everything from you. every line that you write for him will never be read or enjoyed, so a footnote will do. bruce, being ever the charmer and gentleman he is, asked to take you to dinner, to make sure you were really okay. friday night, exactly a week from the gala, you and bruce have a restaurant at gotham's own vigilantes and villains, a five star restaurant built by harvey dent after he was reintroduced to society. it's the only restaurant that will cater to civilians, vigilantes and the villains of arkham. harvey said he built it so he didn't have to feel so torn between his personalities. as you and bruce are sat your table, the host says she thinks you two are cute. they think you're a couple, so they buy you some booze. you two share the moscato, and laughed cause it's true to you. and you'd be embarrassed of you weren't so pleased that everyone else sees what bruce will never see. you're perfect together, but you'll never be the one. this teaches you another lesson: feelings are reckless. just like the novels, side characters end up alone. in bruce's story, you are no more than a side character. so a footnote will have to do.

jigsaw - duke thomas. duke is so in love with you, it's obvious. he wants nothing more than to be the object of your love. if changing his clothes would mean you like him more, if changing his hair would make you care, he'd grab the kitchen scissors and cut himself to slivers for you. if being polite kept you satisfied, if being less insane would make you stay, then he'd be more like his adoptive sisters, saying "thank you ma'am and mister," to you, for you. as much as you adore his affection and idolization of you, your feelings for him aren't like that. he's your brother, your best friend. he's the only one of the waynes that you feel like you can really trust, who understands what it's like to be the odd one out of the family. signal and psycho are partners in crime fighting, just as tight knit as duke and you are when the masks are off. you notice his changes, and it doesn't mean much to you. all people mature in different ways, so what does it matter that duke is molding himself to be your ideal partner? he's changed every part of himself, until the puzzle pieces aren't him at all. it's ruined your friendship, and it's ruining him. your relationship is on thin ice, and you pretend not to know it. you like the new duke. he's perfect. little do you know, duke looks in the mirror, and all he sees is a jigsaw. you take every part of him, all the things you need. then the rest. you discard. you make him into something he's not. you don't realize it, but you're the one who's made this version of him. it's like duke is your frankenstein's monster, and you're the crazy doctor. you don't notice this. or maybe you do, but just choose not to care. but duke's family notices it. dick, jason, tim, steph, cass, even damian. they all see the changes you've made. they see what you're doing to their brother, how you're damaging him. it hurts them to see him hurt. "all you're doing to make her happy? and still, she doesn't fucking love you?" tim prods. "you're killing parts of yourself to fit her, thomas." damian adds. to that, jason scoffs. "it's clear as shit you're not the issue." dick takes a seat next to duke, gently draping an arm over his brother's shoulders. "if you made her like you, would you even like yourself?" duke's mind is racing. he doesn't want to believe their words. he knows it's true, though, he just doesn't want to accept it. "pointing out all my flaws doesn't help. i'm fine," he bites out. standing, duke pushes out of the circle his brothers have formed around him, not looking steph or cass in the eyes as he storms past them. slamming the door to his room, duke basically falls into his bed, clutching his soft pillows close to his body. his phone buzzes with an instagram notification from you. you've just posted a new dump of pictures of you and duke. "shoutout to my favorite person and my best friend @duke_thomas_wayne!" he swipes through the post, photo after photo, reading through the comments when he's done. everybody thinks you're a couple. that's all that duke wants. yelling out in frustration, he throws his phone across the room. "why don't you love me?" he cries, fingers gripping the roots of his hair and pulling hard. duke thomas is nothing more than a jigsaw of your creation. but that's okay with him, because you love this version of duke. so he'll change every part of himself just to make you happy, even if it ruins him.

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