Fear Fever (Arkham! Jason Todd X Sick!Reader)
So, while I’m struggling at home with COVID, I need some comfort, feels and serotonin. Now, who better to write about than Arkham Knight!Jason Todd? Plus, I rarely do a self-indulgent/serotonin/ depression cure fic to get me through sickness (because I rarely get sick).
Basic premise, Reader is sick during the Halloween from Hell in Gotham. Unfortunately, she couldn’t make it during the evacuation of the city due to how tired and ill she was. The Arkham Knight then breaks into her apartment and, upon realizing who she is and that she’s sick, starts taking care of her.
Warning ⚠️ : None other than mild violence, description of illness and breaking and entering
Out of all of the days of the years to get sick, Halloween was one of the worst times. Especially in the city of Gotham, when Scarecrow announced his takeover…
Unfortunately, given how tired and disgusting you felt, you couldn’t leave the city in time. The buses were full and already left and your car was demolished by rioters and thugs. You had no alternate but to stay home and rest, despite the risk of your apartment being broken into. But, you knew it would be a bad idea to go out into the criminal-infested streets while fatigued and plagued with illness. No doubt they would take advantage of your weakness.
You used to love Halloween when you were younger. The costumes, the makeup and face paint, the candy and scary movies. Unfortunately, that love for the holiday gradually diminished after the loss of your friend and crush, Jason Todd. No one knows what happened to him or where he went. You tried to get an answer from Bruce Wayne, the man who essentially adopted him. Only for the butler, Alfred, to tell that Jason had been murdered by the Joker. How it happened or why, they and you didn’t entirely know themselves and they didn’t really elaborate, either. All you knew was that Bruce was taking the loss very hard.
Popping a cough drop into your mouth, you let out a dry cough. A dull pounding shot through the front of your head as you did, causing you to groan. Laying back on your pillows, you placed a cool towel against your forehead to numb the pain. You could barely breathe through your nose because of how stuffy it was. It felt like you were breathing through two pieces of cotton. Or better yet, one nostril unblocked while the other was completely blocked off.
After a few minutes of dozing off and waking up, a loud BANG erupted from down the hall of your apartment building. Adrenaline overwhelmed your drowsiness and you immediately grabbed your two closest bags and started stuffing with what you needed. Including any medicine and remedies you had been using while resting and fighting off your disease.
Unfortunately, a series of footsteps came barreling up the stairs of the building. You knew that by the time you enacted your escape, they would’ve broken into the door to your condo and a chase would’ve ensued. Plus, if you attempted to fight through whoever was coming, you would probably be easily overpowered. So, you had to opt for the biggest and dumbest plan of all…
You hid under your bed…
As soon as you got under the mattress, the door to your apartment could be heard bursting open. You could hear the shouts of men, the cocking of guns and see the glow of flashlights under your bedroom door. Your anxiety spiked, your symptoms subsiding for the faintest moment. You were thankful that the drop you took earlier had temporarily suppressed your coughing.
“Alright, be on guard, men. She couldn’t have gone too far.” A digitalized voice flooded the deafening silence, disguising whoever was behind it. You remain silent, trying to stay calm with your fear spiking at every second of tension. Your eyes began to water from the migraine forming in your head and the prospect of getting caught.
A heavy set of footsteps came up to your bedroom door, forcing it open with a kick. You wanted to scream, but remembered that you were trying to hide. Your heart was thumping harshly against your rib cage, yet was unheard by the man in the room. You could make out the hefty, military-grade boots from under your mattress and your draped sheets and comforter.
Then came the tickling sensation within the bridge of your nose. You tensed up as you fought with yourself to dampen the feeling to get rid of the invincible result. Your frustration and hope to keep it down mounted as your panic escalated. The tickling grew and grew until it reached the tip of your nose. Then.. the impending exclamation of release and relief…
You sneezed like you’re trying to break the sound boundary. Your head throbbed as the sneeze worsened the migraine you already had. When you realized what you had done, you let out a swift and angry, “Son of a bitch!”
A force then grabbed you by the hoodie you were wearing, your anxiety now at its peak. Your entire being was forced to stand up and your eyes to look at the culprit. A blue-screened helmet with metal appendages, mocking Batman’s cowl, stared back at you. But, you felt like his real eyes were looking at you differently than the helmet was trying to convey. The rest of his suit fit perfectly against his frame, making him appear even more imposing. The Arkham ‘A’ was plastered on the chestplate and the logo on his shoulder pads.
Unaware of the cough you were holding back, you began to hack uncontrollably. The man holding you hostage seemed to react with a gesture of concern, cocking his head slightly to the side. You would’ve taken advantage of the momentary distraction, but you were too miserable to care.
“Sorry about this…”
No sooner he said that, you felt a punch strike you across the jaw…
You woke up to a dark room and a soft bed under you. A dam and cooling sensation was placed on your forehead, your bodily temperature a little more manageable now than it was before. Your headache was still present, but was more akin to a light pressure on your head than anything. Your fatigue was still there, no doubt along with the rest of your symptoms.
You were confirmed to be correct as a dry cough ripped through your throat. The cold cloth fought the pounding that came with it, making the pain more numb. The drowsiness from before started to kick in, your eyes becoming droopy. That was until the door to the room opened with a thud. Turning and picking up your head, you could see the armored commander from before, who came barging into your room. The towel slipped off your forehead, leaving a light chill on your skin.
“You should lay down your head back down or your head will hurt a lot more.” He said bluntly in that electronic voice.
“I don’t normally get kidnapped while sick. Pardon me for being curious.” You hissed, now laying on your side. The Knight laughed softly and humorlessly from under his mask. He then pulled out a thermometer from a pouch on his utility belt.
“Slip this under your tongue.” He requested, holding the instrument to your lips. You looked up at him, quizzical and a bit skeptical. He sighed, “Listen, I’m not gonna say it again…”
You did as you were told, taking the thermometer into your mouth and under your tongue. The both of you waited for a result to blink to life on the circular screen. It was only a few seconds when it finally flashed to life. The Knight pulled out the thermometer and examined the temperature on it.
“Hmmm, well, whatever fever you might’ve had before has gone down…”
“Yet, I still felt like crap…”
The Arkham Knight laughed humorlessly once more as he placed the thermometer on a nearby table.
“Even while sick, you still manage to be stubborn and blunt, (Y/N)…”
Your eyes widened as you realized that you hadn’t given him your name verbally. You began searching for potential ways that he could’ve learned your name from or where. You didn’t really have any personal items, displaying your name for all to see. No jewelry, no stitching into backpacks, no fancy keychains, nothing… you had nothing in your possession or in your apartment that would’ve given him your name…
So, how did he know…?
“I never told you my name…” you responded defensively, sitting up in the cot you had been lying in.
“Actually, you did… a long time ago…” he countered with a wit that was bigger than what you had originally thought.
“What do you mean? I’ve never met anyone like you before…”
The metallic click of a button suddenly followed your reply. The front of his mask began to lift up and reveal who laid underneath. A distinct ‘J’ marking was displayed on his left cheek, possibly a branding of some kind. You then caught sight of blue eyes as you looked further up.
The crystalline color was familiar to you…
Before you could stop yourself, the name spilled out from your lips…
Your jaw was practically on the floor by now. You had no other words to describe how you were feeling and even seeing right now. At first, you thought that the fatigue was finally messing with your head. But, you knew that would be a bit of a stretch as adrenaline was driving your every movement.
“Earth to (N/N)? You alright?” Jason asked concerned, snapping his fingers in front of your face.
“How? Bruce and Alfred told me that you were killed. By the Joker, of all people! How are you alive?”
“My death was a fake out. Joker made them believe that he had killed me. I’m surprised you haven’t put two and two together…”
The brain in your pain-riddled head began to turn and wind. You started putting an invisible puzzle together, trying to connect the dots. One by one, the picture became clearer and bigger. All at once, everything made sense and no sense at all. You softly uttered what your conclusion finally was…
“Bruce Wayne is Batman… and the others at the Manor are…”
“Yep…” Jason answered simply, confirming everything you had just figured out.
“Oh my god…” Your head suddenly began to spin and your stomach uneasy. Your arms was about ready to give out from under you.
“Hey, hey, take it easy. Don’t push yourself.” He said, clutching your shoulders in an attempt to help stay upright.
“How did you find me?”
“The rioters outside your apartment building. They were talking someone being inside and I realized that you were probably still in there. Thanks to the tech in my helmet, I saw that you were. Course, I didn’t know you were sick until I found you. So, I brought you somewhere where you could rest and recover without getting caught by criminals.”
You were relieved to know that￼ him finding you wasn’t a coincidence. You were even more than happy to know that he was still alive. Though, a little darker and rough around the edges than before. You didn’t dare push him to tell you more or about his scars as you knew it would be painful for him to recall and retell the story…
So, instead, you just pulled him in a hug. He flinched for a moment before he calmed down and realized what you were doing. He returned the embrace, relieved that someone still cared about and haven’t forgotten him. You then said, “I’m really glad that you’re alive and that you found me. Your death was really hard for me to take… Nothing felt right again after you were gone…
“Thanks. I’m sorry that you had to go through all that…”
You both sat there in the silence for a bit, just holding each other. Your head laid against the shoulder pad on his left arm. It was cool to the touch and was a welcome relief to your heated cheeks.
“Y’know, if I get sick, it’s your fault.” Jason said sarcastically, trying to break up the silence in whether way he could.
You laughed in response, appreciating the joke for what it was. Unfortunately, you had to pull away as another cough climbed through your throat.
“Hey, you rest up. I’ll be back later.” Jason said, moving away from the bed you were in.
Of course, you knew that with him as the Arkham Knight and his history with Batman, there was no such thing as ‘careful’.
You knew that too well…
Otherwise, you wouldn’t have gotten sick…
But, this time around, it was a bit more welcome…
Because it brought someone you lost back to you…
Hey, just a friendly reminder to wash your hands, wear your mask (if necessary or required) and don’t overwork yourself. Believe me, overworking yourself and burnout can easily end with you getting sick.
Anyways, have a good day!
Dick Grayson x Plus Size! Reader
A/n: this is just a short story
Plot: you never let dick pick you up, not because your insecure or hate yourself and all that…but because you simply just think he can’t and that right there hurts his ego just tiny bit… so he decides to prove you wrong.
Dick has asked several times to let him pick you up
But your answer is always the same, “no dick, you can’t pick me up…physically” , It actually made him train and work out extra hard because you didn’t think he was strong enough too.
He finally gets tired of you saying no, because who are you to decide he’s not strong enough to pick up his girl, I mean come on just look at the muscles on this dude.
“C’mon baby, just let me pick you up one time and I promise I won’t ask again” he begs, You lift a eyebrow “Hm, well I know that’s a lie dick, if I let you you do end up actually lifting me up you’ll just keep asking” you answer
“Ha! So you do think there’s a possibility I can lift you up” he smirks “Yeah for maybe like..2 seconds” you state, “y/n I work with Batman, and I can fight like, five people at a time..and you still doubt I can pick you up”
You make a thinking face “uhhh, yeah” you smile, he rolls his eyes, when you turn your back he whispers “you just wait and see”
He runs up behind you and picks you up, holding your arms down so you can fight him off, he holds you up for about 3 minutes despite your protests and sets you on the counter
“Dick!” You yell slapping his arm, “what you told me I couldn’t do it so I proved you wrong” he laughs, you playfully roll your eyes “your so annoying… now do it again” you ask putting your arms around him “Gladly” he answers
Perhaps you were wrong, but you did find your new favorite thing…dick picking you up
one call away
pairing: dick grayson/nightwing x reader
warnings: a dash of angst (turns into fluff !!)
word count: 800+
summary: calling dick grayson…
“i can hear you yawning.”
“no, ‘m awake.” your hand reaches up lazily to rub at your eye which is, truthfully, heavy with sleep￼￼. still, this was the first opportunity you’d had to talk to your boyfriend for a while. he’d left your apartment in blüdhaven to clean up some titans business that had been left unfinished. of course, like most vigilante business, whatever events had transpired weren’t clean cut, leading to dick spending the better half of two months in san francisco at titans tower.
despite your best efforts you try and fail to suppress a yawn. 4 am. you cast a sidelong glance at the clock beside you. that’s not too early, but that’s only if you’ve been getting enough sleep, which you haven’t.
“little bird, that’s like the fifth time you’ve yawned in the span of two minutes. i’m gonna hang up now, kay?”
“wait, dick, no,” you scramble to keep him on the line. “just five more minutes. please. i miss you.” the other end goes quiet, and you wonder briefly if he’s still there. but then sounds of scuffling fill your ear, and you’re reassured that he is.
“i miss you, too,” he breathes.
a bubble of relieved laughter leaves your throat. it’s inharmonious and something about it is off kilter, disorienting in its suddenness, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
you missed him. but he was okay. he was safe.
you’re jolted from your train of thought by a soft thud and an accompanying groan from dick. but fuck it if life has other plans. “are you okay?!” you immediately ask, a million possible scenarios running through your head.
“fine,” he grumbles as an exasperated sigh leaves his lips, “hit my head on the window frame trying to get in.”
you laugh harder and more genuinely now, unable to hold back an ungodly snort. “dick… it’s titans tower, and you’re still climbing in through the window?”
“old habits die hard i guess.” he sounds nowhere as amused as you do, knowing he’s going to be hearing about this for a long time to come. but you know that despite it, he’s smiling too.
“well, try using the door next time,” you advise, doing your best to keep a straight face. “after all, it’s not like the tower is the picture of subtlety. unless they live under a rock, i’m pretty sure the whole population knows you guys live there. it’s a giant ‘t’ for goodness sake. the ‘t’ might as well stand for target.”
“yeah yeah. whatever,” dick groans.
“i missed the sound of your voice,” you confess, as if telling him was letting him in on some sort of dirty secret. then, quietly, and on a more serious note, you ask, “when are you coming home?”
“i don’t know.”
you’re both silent for a while after that. you had steeled yourself for his answer, even prepared yourself for any one but “indefinitely.”
“i hope it’s soon,” dick breaks the deafening quiet. your face is beginning to grow hot with tears, but still you fight the hiccuping sobs that threaten to wrack your body. “you’re… okay?”
“yeah,” your voice cracks on the first note, but you fight through it, “just tired of waking up to an empty bed. and falling asleep in one.”
“but hayley’s with you, right?” at the sound of her name, a set of ears perks up from beside you. she answers for you, a happy little yap that reveals she, too, is overjoyed to hear him.
“aw,” you tease, “are you worried about me, blue?”
“maybe,” he sighs. “if you need anything, anything at all, reach out to wally, okay? i don’t want you to be alone, and i want you to be safe.”
“i don’t want wally, i want you.”
is what you want to say. but you couldn’t do that to him— couldn’t put him in that position— so instead you say, “yeah, of course.” because the instant you let on that you were anything but okay, he’d be home faster than even flash could run. that’s the way dick loved you.
you know that and he knows that, and that’s why you can’t take advantage of it. it’d be selfish. because dick grayson is doing what dick grayson does best— saving lives— and you can and you will survive without him for as long as he needs. because that’s the way you love dick grayson.
“oh and babe,” you refocus on the rhythmic rumble of dick’s voice, “i left you plenty of my sweatshirts. raid my drawers, take your pick. try not to miss me too much.”
the sentiment makes you smile. even when he’s not home he’s still caring for you with little simple acts of love that melt your heart and make you fall even more than you’d thought possible. “first thing i did when you left. you do realize that you’re never getting some of these back, right?”
“oh, i’m counting on it.”
“—and it’s too late.”
“for me not to miss you,” you say. “you know, if you were home right now, just getting back from patrol, i wouldn’t even be upset when you inevitably got blood on the sheets.”
“no, you would.”
“yeah, you’re right. i still would,” you laugh. “but i think i’d appreciate you being home a lot more.”
“hey,” dick grows serious, “when this is over, i’m all yours.”
“oh yeah?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow.
“yeah. i’ll even take you to that restaurant you’ve been wanting to try.”
“mhm, we’ll see. work on getting your perky little ass home first.”
“will do. goodnight, little bird. sweet dreams.”
“love you, blue. be smart, stay safe.”
“when have i ever not been?”
“i’m not going to even dignify that with an answer,” you huff. “goodbye, dick.”