#deathstroke fluff

[froggyfics]

Play Fighting

You have a training session with Slade.

This was suppose to come out in September 2023...It's now February 2024. We're gonna just be happy this is finally completed.

Additional note at the bottom

I categorized this as a fem!reader, just because I mentioned “girl” once in this fic. So, I hope that those who prefer gender neutral readers will still enjoy this. 

Feedback is always appreciated. Feel free to message me privately or comment below to let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome! 

Pairing: Slade Wilson x fem!reader

Theme: Fluff

Word Count: 1,279

You grunt as your back crudely hits the mat once again. The pain shocks your system, but you’re not at all surprised that you’re in this position.

“I told you, I’m not good at this stuff,” you grumble.

“Get back up,” he commands.

Rage surges through your body and if looks could kill, he would be six feet under already.  He laughs heartily, with his palm clutching his chest.

“You think you can intimidate me, doll? A little girl like you?”

His mocking tone acts as a battery for you, and your depleted energy disappears. You grab the sword that you dropped on the ground and position yourself in a battle stance. 

“Make sure you protect your chin,” he instructs.

You ignore his suggestion.

“Protect your chin,” he repeats.

“Protect your own chin,” you mutter.

He doesn’t respond with words, but instead lunges at you. The speed at which he travels makes you shriek, and you can’t help but drop your sword and cover yourself with your arms. You glue your eyes shut, waiting for the impact.

It never comes. Seconds pass before you slowly open your eyes once again. He’s just standing there with a smirk on his face and his arms crossed. His hair droops down due to his sweat and is sticking out in different directions. The rash guard he has on clings to his body - his muscles barely contained by the thin polyester. The sight of him in front of you makes you salivate, but of course, you can’t let him know that you’re desperately attracted to him. You have an intense crush on him, but you know better than to fall for those ocean blue eyes – sorry – eye. 

“Stop looking at me like that, Slade! C’mon,” you exclaim, as you pick your weapon back up. You can’t stand how he looks pityingly at you. “Fight me like a man!” You try to goad him, but Slade, ever the patient one, refuses to indulge you. 

You beg, plead, and even shout expletives at him to resume the training session. Slade continues to stand in front of you, arms crossed, with that knowing smile on his face. 

The situation is more frustrating given that your gaze falls onto his lips every few seconds. You’re so angry that you can’t control your own impulses. It’s cruel that a man with such a hideous personality could look so attractive.

Well, if he’s not going to fight you, you’ll have to bring the fight to him.

You leap towards him, sword in hand, stabbing the air repeatedly as Slade easily dodges your every attack. He’s light on his feet for a man of his stature. Within seconds, you can feel your fatigue overcome you, especially in your arm.

“Getting tired?”

“Not at all,” you heave. You’re definitely tired, but you won’t let Slade in on that information.

“You can tell me if ya get tired. I know pretty girls like you aren’t used to being pushed around like this,” he purrs.

Thankfully, your face is already red from the training session, otherwise, his comment would’ve made you look like a tomato. 

“Whatever.”

Something in the air changes once the word leaves your mouth. Slade no longer has a playful smirk on his face. He neither smiles nor frowns, but his eye gives away his true feelings. He’s glaring at you.

He lunges at you once more. This time, you don’t cower. You desperately swipe at him with your sword, but it’s useless against him. 

He’s suddenly within arm’s reach, and he slaps your wrist with an open palm. You nearly lose your grip on your sword’s handle, but you recover quickly. 

“I like you girl, but you got one hell of a bratty attitude. Don’t think I won’t teach you a lesson if I got to.”

“You seemed fine with my attitude not too long ago.” You struggle against his grasp, but he has a firm grip on you.

“Yeah? Well, my patience has run out.”

“That’s too bad, I like giving you an attitude.”

He forcibly yanks your arm, and suddenly you’re dangerously close to him. You’re so close that you can smell him. He smells a bit of sweat, with an undercurrent of…vanilla?

“I like correcting attitudes.”

A polite smile crosses your face. “Wait till I tell everyone that the big, bad Deathstroke uses girly body wash. You smell like a bakery.”

Pain radiates up and down the column of your spine. Your back hits the mat before you even register that Slade had leg sweeped you.

For the millionth time in this training session, he has the advantage. He hovers above you in a lunge - triumph oozing out of him. 

You want to humble him so badly. 

He clutches his hip after you punch the bony part of his pelvis as hard as you could. The punch distracts him momentarily, but it’s long enough for you to slither your way out from under him. 

For good measure, you slap him once. Redness immediately begins to surge on his cheek as his capillaries break. You know you’re definitely going to regret doing that later, but you just couldn't resist!

You swing your sword and stop just before it connects to his neck.

Slade wobbles for a moment, still in a lunge, but rights himself within a few seconds. His gaze moves from the sword to you and back to the sword several times. 

It’s at this moment that you think you’ve gone too far, specifically with the slap. Sure, you’re cheeky with Slade every once in a while, but he's always real quick to set you straight when he’s not in the mood.

Based on his expression, he’s not in the mood right now.

However, he’s right where you want him. The upper hand you have - however momentary - makes you all the more confident to do what you’ve been wanting to do for so long.

“Kiss me.”

Slade rarely gets caught by surprise, so you revel in his stupor. “You have a sword to my throat,” he responds with an air of disbelief.

You roll your eyes. “Don’t act like you can’t get out of this situation.”

He doesn’t move. You continue to stare at one another. Sweat gathers in the crevices between your palm and the sword handle, loosening your grip. You swallow loudly. Has it always been this hot in here? Did you just make it creepy? Can he not be this damn irresistible?

“Kiss me,” you whine, a bit more desperately this time.

He sighs deeply, taking a moment to mull over his options.

“Fine,” he says. He leans forward to reach your lips, and you raggedly bend over to meet him halfway. The sharp blade presses into his neck, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

When he’s near centimeters from your face, a great idea crosses your mind. An idea that would solidify your victory for this training session. You let him lean even more closely to you - so close that his eye begins to close in preparation for the kiss. Once his eye closes, you remove the sword from his neck and swiftly move to the side.

The sword acted as a barrier for Slade to keep him upright - once the sword was removed, he fell forward. 

Any other person would have laughably landed on their face, but Slade, ever the skillful mercenary, plants his palms on the floor and pulls himself into a half-plank position. 

He turns his face to look at you with a look of annoyance.

You unceremoniously drop the blade and place your hands on your hips. “Oh, Slade, you take things way too seriously. We were only just play fighting!”

Note: I got the prompt "kiss me...you have a sword to my throat" from @celestialwrites however!!!!! I cannot find for the life of me the exact post that inspired me

#deathstroke #deathstroke x reader #slade wilson x reader #slade wilson #slade wilson fluff #slade wilson x y/n #slade wilson x you #dc comics #deathstroke fluff

[mottemort]

A good boy, Jason and Slade

#wfa fanart #wfa webtoon #jason todd #jason todd fanart #red hood #dc #sketch #wayne family adventures #batman wayne family adventures #fanart #wfa #slade wilson #deathstroke #dog #doggo #good boy #fluff #meeting the family #sladejay #jayslade #meet cute

[weirdohasleft]

‘The stars really were gorgeous out here.’

Fanart for @iammyowncryptid’s fanfic ‘Growing Pains’.

Very dark fluff and delulu Deathstroke but overall, a very interesting read. This isn’t exactly how the scene played out as Danny was actually laying on the ground and staring up at the sky and not just sitting there but ehhhh. I had an idea and my hands started moving

#‘Growing Pains’ by Michaelisunderrated #‘Growing Pains’ #Apprentice verse #dc x dp #danny phantom #dcxdp #deathstroke #dark fluff #no proshippers #just some forced adoption

[oh-surprise-its-me]

Slade not liking to label what they are but always bringing something back for Dick when he’s been out of town. Whether that be jewelry, clothing or just a cute note pad.

Dick thinking it’s bribes for not running to Batman and telling secrets, but Dick is still falling in love with Slade anyways. (It’s actually just bc Slade is constantly thinking of Dick.)

It goes on for months until Dick has breakdown over a stuffed elephant Slade gets him from Romania and starts sobbing and begging Slade to stop fucking with him.

Slade who up until this point thought he was being fairly open with his emotions realizes he’s a fucking idiot and Jesus Christ, Dick is traumatized.

#dick grayson #slade wilson #deathstroke #nightwing #fluff #angst #sladick #sladin #dc comics #I got drunk at a family function #it’s trauma for dick because Bruce did the same thing when he wanted to apologize yo dick! #mac writes dc

[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

[pugh-pugh-pugh-pugh]

Alleviate the Pain

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲; 𝑆𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛-𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟-𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝐵𝑎𝑡𝑠𝑖𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝐼𝑛𝑗𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑥ℎ𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑦, 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑒𝑛-𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠; 𝐷𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝐺𝑟𝑎𝑦𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑥 𝐵𝑎𝑡𝑠𝑖𝑠 (𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒄)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬; 𝐵𝑎𝑡𝑠𝑖𝑠, 𝐷𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝐺𝑟𝑎𝑦𝑠𝑜𝑛, 𝐴𝑙𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑃𝑒𝑛𝑛𝑦𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑡ℎ, 𝑆𝑙𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑊𝑖𝑙𝑠𝑜𝑛

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; 𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑, 𝑖𝑛𝑗𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠, 𝑎𝑙𝑐𝑜ℎ𝑜𝑙

To say she was tired would be the understatement of the year. She was very familiar with endless nights filled with keeping trouble-makers at bay and protecting the citizens of Gotham as Spider-Woman, the beloved vigilante.

Unfortunately, tonight wasn't this simple.

For the past few weeks, she was made quite aware of Deathstroke running well-paid errands for some of the most notorious twisted minds of Gotham. They had coincidentally crossed paths a couple times, yet he always found a way to escape both hers and Batman's attempts to capture him and put a stop to the mercenary's plans.

However, that night everything changed as the teen managed to catch him off-guard in the middle of a deal with a local cartel. She had sneakily crawled on one of the beams into the warehouse where the group had sought privacy to negotiate and after figuring out her strategy she had quickly sprang to action.

There were six people in total. Slade, the gang leader and four of his men, fully armed, ready to protect the main guy.

She webbed two of the gang's goons to the wall behind them, causing them to drop their guns in the process, as she jumped down from the ceiling. Landing swiftly on her feet, she immediately started dodging the immediately incoming bullets, very thankful for her spidey senses.

She was doing a wonderful job taking out the other two guards, webbing the gang boss to a pole, so as not to interfere with her fight and was now engaged in intense combat with Slade.

"Oh, hey, Sladey. Fancy seeing you here. Hope I'm not interrupting anything." she taunted, while trying to dodge his swings.

Seeing as he had his blades and she had only her webs and physical strength, she was already in a disadvantage, having already received a variety of punches and stabbing attempts.

She had inflicted some damage herself, managing to disorient and corner him back on the wall with her speed and agility.

"Don't get me wrong, dude, I love meeting up from time to time, but I think we gotta wrap this thing up."

Unfortunately, she didn't have the upper hand for long, as apparently back-up had been called and a dozen of new soldiers stormed into the warehouse, giving Deathstroke the chance to jab the girl on the nose and escape her trap.

"Ow, dude. That hurts!"

Shaking her head, the young adult quickly regained her senses and webbed him on the wall as well. She barely managed to avoid any more damage, unable, however, to stop a couple of wounds from lodging into her right shoulder and grazing her left side.

After a long long fight she had with much effort webbed every single thug to any flat surface she could find, effectively trapping them until the cops arrived.

Heaving for a breath, now utterly worn out both physically and mentally, she noticed one of her traps was slit open and Slade was nowhere to be seen. She frantically scanned around the area, not being able to spot him under the dark and starry sky.

After half an hour of swinging around town in the middle of the night and not finding any traces, she decided the pain and exhaustion she was feeling were too intense for her to continue the wild goose chase and swung back to her home.

Climbing up the outside wall of the manor, she one-handedly opened her window with her less damaged arm, keeping herself on the wall with her legs, and clumsily climbed in, holding on the wound on her side.

After pulling off her mask and gloves, revealing bruises and bloody nose, lips and knuckles, she flopped on her bed, not really caring for staining her covers. By that point the pain was blaring and black spots were appearing in her vision.

Suddenly, there was a gentle knock on the door, the young Wayne groaned in response, causing the door to open, Alfred's head popping through the crack.

"Are you alright, miss Wayne? I heard a thumping sound from downstairs and got worried." expressed the old man, before properly glancing at her form still secured in the now bloodied spider-suit. "I will bring the supplies."

The butler rushed away to bring her one of the medical kits placed around the house, leaving the entrance to her room just ajar enough for the hallway light to softly sign through and just slightly illuminate the room.

Staring at her ceiling, she tried to catch her breath and distract herself from the throbbing pain going through her whole body, due to her various injuries. She was disappointed in herself. Frankly, the combination of her fatigue and Slade once again slipping through her fingers was making her feel horrible, tired. She just wanted to fall asleep, though she knew she couldn't. She had to be taken care of first.

Soon she heard footsteps pudding on the hallway and guessing the person to be the beloved old man, she didn't even bother glancing at the door as it creaked open. However, when her bed dipped slightly near her legs, she tiredly raised her head, her half-lidded eyes meeting a pair of sleepy ocean blue orbs staring at her.

Immediately, a wide tired smile creeped it's way on her face, as she motioned for her little brother to come closer. The ten-year-old crawled towards her face, staying quiet for a moment scanning the bloody cuts and bruises on her face.

"Why are you awake, Dickie?" softly scolded the older girl, trying to stay unmoving so as not to inflict any unnecessary pain. "You've got school tomorrow."

"You do too!" argued the boy, getting comfortable beside her.

"That doesn't answer my question."

"I heard you coming in through the window." he mumbled, laying his head on her left shoulder, looking intensely up at her. "I wanted to see if you're okay."

"Don't worry, Dick. I'm just peachy."

"Sure doesn't look like it." sassed Dick, causing his sister to chuckle half-heartedly, immediately wincing in pain, before they once again fell into a comfortable silence.

"Sorry I woke you up."

"It's fine. I wasn't having any good dreams anyway."

At that moment, being cuddled with her young brother, careful of her injuries, a warm feeling nestling in her chest, immediately feeling like she could just let her guard down and finally relax after these past few excruciating hours.

When Alfred arrived back and he saw the siblings laying in peace he smiled fondly at them and decided not to scold the youngest of the house for not being awake at this hour. He proceeded to place the medical supplies on the bed and the bottle of whiskey he would use for cleaning the wounds on her bedside table.

Immediately, he focused on the major bullet wounds, starting with the one on her side, grabbing the twizzlers to remove the metal trapped in her abdomen. Meanwhile, she took a wet cloth the butler was holding out for hear and started wiping the dried blood off her nose, lips and brows.

Dick sat up scared of doing any damage and, once she was done cleaning her face, he grabbed her left hand and squeezed it, careful of her bloody knuckles, movement which Alfred noticed.

"Master Dick, could you clean your sister's knuckles?" the old man suggested, grabbing the kid's attention, while handing him the bottle of alcohol and another handkerchief, to which the boy immediately nodded, eager to help his sister. "Just pour some alcohol on the cloth and rub it softly over her wound."

Dick hesitantly placed the now wet cloth on his sister's hand, causing her to flinch in pain and flex her fingers while hissing. The boy worriedly looked up at her screwed shut eyes.

"I'm fine. I'm fine, go on." she breathed with a forced smile, trying to convince him she was alright, causing him to return to his task, missing her gritting her teeth, in order not to let out a grunt.

When Alfred was finished with the first wound, he helped the young woman sit up, in order to take care of her shoulder. The girl found this opportunity to softly pull her hand from Dick's smaller palm and grab the bottle of whisky, taking a couple huge gulp of it, before it was grabbed from her by the blue-eyed boy.

"Hey! Don't do that!" he complained, not liking his sister drinking.

Once every injury was taken care of, the older man wished them goodnight and left the two to get some rest, reassuring them he would inform the school that they would not be attending the next day.

Now alone in her room, the two fully cuddled up together, the older sister fondly playing with Dick's hair as he yawned deeply. Something about their embrace made them both feel warmth, comfort and fondness.

Soon, both their eyes started to droop, sleep starting to take over, as they mumbled quietly.

"Goodnight, sis."

"Goodnight, Dickie."

#batsis #dc #dc universe #batfamily #dick grayson #dick grayson x batsis #older batsis #older sister #older sibling #alfred pennyworth #deathstroke #slade wilson #comfort #hurt/comfort #spider woman #angst fluff #angst #fluff #kid!dick grayson #dc imagine

[marshmallowdarling]

Hello again! Sorry about this but my friend and I were talking about what an yandere! Deathstroke would be like- thoughts??

No need to be sorry! I’m all about people requesting no matter how many times they do!!! I hope you don’t mind me doing this request first, I finally got some time to sit down and read after a hectic exam block and this one stuck out to me first, so I really wanted to do it ASAP!!

Honestly, I had to skim over some other fanfics and google his name AND THEN STILL I HAD NO CLUE WHO THIS PIECE OF DILF WAS! Until I saw something where he called night wing kid and it all rushed to me! How could I forget him! He was my guilty pleasure crush growing up!!!

This ended up getting a little long because of the scene I snuck in at the end (and yes I used a song from steven universe, I was listening to a slow dance playlist and it fit somehow with slade, also thinking of him watching steven universe is so cute!!) but I love it so- 

I will definitely write more for Deathstroke after this!!! I have so many ideas :D

✧2400 words ✧Deathstroke x Reader ✧SHE/HER pronouns

I hope you enjoy Bubs! ~Mwah

✧Deathstroke or Slade Wilson is a semi-strict yandere in a way. He’s unbelievably lucid, he knows stealing you away and forcing you to stay with him is wrong, he’s a big bag scary villain so it’s obvious that you would try to kick and scream if your terrified of him. Though this makes his actions softer he does not tolerate you trying to pry and manipulate him. He has strict rules he expects you to follow because come on, he lets you scream profanities at him, and he understands your hesitance to eat anything, but he will not allow you to throw any food onto the floor and such like that.

✧He has bases galore, so he definitely is going to have you hidden in one with even his most close henchmen not knowing about you specifically but knowing that they need to make sure nobody goes in and nobody leaves. It’s not like Slade is going to give you any chances to escape tbh.

✧Slade definitely has his silent mercenary attitude with you, not really that intentional, he just doesn’t really know how to be ‘soft’ after his years of torturing and killing. Like, a man doesn’t get to his stature just willy-nilly, he’s a killing machine with muscles, brains and wit. Though compared to everyone else, your treated as soft as he can be. 

✧Don’t get it twisted he will put you in your place if you do anything wrong, he isn’t even opposed to snatching something out of your hand silently if you’re doing something his disapproves of, but he never yells at you and NEVER hurts you. 

✧On that note he would never try to do anything without your permission, away from the whole kidnapping part. The only reason why he kidnapped you in the first place was because he couldn’t risk making any sort of relationship with you in the outside world. People are always out to get him and therefore would target you, but he was itching to talk to you in any way, and after a particularly close call with a low life villain trying to square up to him, he knew he had to do anything to keep you safe. 

✧His military background does come up a lot when he’s strict, not too bad. No drop and give me twenty, but when he gives you THAT look… yea you stop whatever or do whatever he wants. (Dad/DILF vibes??)

✧Slade is such a dad and though he doesn’t realise it, it too also slips when he gets strict and even when he shows affection. At first you might not even realise when he is affectionate or gives you a lick of it but once you realise it, it’s kind of wholesome and cute? 

✧Head pats with a murmured praise appropriate with what you did, a pat on the back or shoulder or arm with a slight twitch of his lip if you squint. Once, you swear, you managed to catch him watching you with a raised brow with a small smile on his lips. 

✧Small silent gestures are also VERY big but not noticeable until you really look, food is always healthy and balanced but there’s not a lick of texture or ingrediencies you don’t like. The snack cupboard is always available, and he seems to leave out snacks you like just laying around while nodding to it when he passes by to make sure you know that you’re always allowed to have it. Books, pencils and sketchbooks are found on a shelf or in a cupboard, new but made to look like it was just coincidence that it was laying there. If you ever ask to use it or to have a snack he starts off the few times by saying something along the lines of;

“You’re allowed any food in the house without needing to ask.” 

Or  “You’re allowed to anything you find.” With a silent line of ‘but nothing that you could use to escape or hurt me.’

✧But after saying that a few times, if you keep asking just because your anxious or not sure he will give you a silent nod. 

✧He knows how to hack and code so letting you have a game console is a luxury you will have, as well as a nice flat screen TV. If he feels like your glued to them and you keep putting off eating and sleeping for them then he will take them away silently and push you to do something else.

✧Slade loves music but he himself doesn’t even know it, until you’re exploring the small apartment like base he has you in, and find an old half broken record player but you can’t seem to find any vinyls. When Slade comes home after work and is starting to undo his tie and peel away his suit jacket, you curiously start making conversation about the old thing. His eyes scan over it as he walks to the bedroom to take a shower and says that he forgot it was even there, he had gotten it from someone he can’t remember though he does remember it being in one of his cars for a while before he got fussed enough to dump it at this hide out when he was ‘visiting’ and let it fade out of his mind. 

After his shower you both talk about its condition over dinner and when the night winds down and he has a glass of whiskey on the rocks in his off hand while he’s leisurely sitting on a plush chair, you hint that you want to try and fix it. Hearing this he just takes a sip while assessing the damage of the broken thing, not dusty anymore as you had wiped it down, on the coffee table before he hums. A few minutes pass of you both drinking your beverage, yours a warm drink instead of alcohol, when he finally gets up and properly looks at the record player. He pries some broken pieces lightly with the tip of his fingers before giving a silent nod. When your face breaks out in a smile, he says it’s time for both of you to hit the sack. 

The next morning when you wake up, Slade has some breakfast on the stove and you both mummer pleasantries before devouring it. When you get to the lounge room though, you find a toolbox that should have enough to fix the record player, Slade comes in shortly after and doesn’t say anything about it and just talks about how he has to get ready for work. 

Now this can end in three ways; 

One- You successfully fix it without any help and some elbow grease

Two- You try and fail, you get frustrated and at the end fix it with pure spite.

Or 

Three- You try and fail, before trying some more and failing again. Slade will fix something behind your back and guide you in the right direction behind your back and then suddenly you have fixed it! (Even though you have a suspicion he helped)

In every way slade will have the same reaction, he will give you a head pat with a “Good Job” before doing a once over of your work and humming satisfied to himself a few times to tell you that it’s all good. You’re so happy that you fixed it that it doesn’t even pass by in your mind that there’s no vinyl to play when you go down to sleep that night, it only pops by in your mind the next day after Slade leaves early that morning and your stuck staring at it. 

Though that night when Slade comes home in a plain outfit (he always changes out of his Deathstroke armour before coming to the house and washes the blood off his skin quickly if he’s been killing) and you exchange greetings you both don’t talk about it, at dinner you both don’t talk about it either and also when you both settle into the routine of sitting in the lounge with your respecting drinks in your hands and that day you choose to read a book and sit in comfortable silence. You don’t need to pester him more about the record player, you think to give him a break but when you awake with no Slade in the house again two days in a row and you go to the lounge to watch TV with the breakfast he made for you, there’s a flat paper brown bag next to the record player. Breakfast now thrown out of your mind; you leave it on the table to get cold as you slowly open the brown bag to reveal a large new black vinyl. The smell of cardboard wafts as you bring the vinyl up to your nose to take a quick sniff, thinking it would’ve smelled like plastic instead but being pleasantly surprised, it smells something akin to an old book. There’s no note and no name on what the song is but you plug in the record player anyways and get ready to play it, there’s a few seconds of static and you don’t realise your holding your breath until the soft sound of a piano followed by a few other instruments filling the room makes you release it.

Surprisingly it’s not an old song, which really shouldn’t be that surprising, but its jazzy and it does have a soft vibe and it’s slightly muffled to make it sound cosy.

You sit there for a bit, finally getting comfy on the couch and placing the plate on your lap to eat the now cold breakfast, while listening to the song over and over. 

Slade had some work that needed to be done, so he had left early in the morning the past two days as well has coming home late last night so he thought to come home early on this day, just as the sun started setting to shine the world with soft hues of yellow and orange. 

What he didn’t think he would see was his darling swaying her body lightly to the song softly playing in the background, she look so ethereal with her hair slightly messy and her pyjama’s slightly crumpled, because who really wants to get dressed up every day to sit around the house?, with the hues of orange and yellow bouncing of their (S/C) skin and face, accentuating their features like their nose and cheeks.

He’s so taken back that the song doesn’t even register in his head until (Y/N) starts humming along. 

“I always thought I might be bad,

Now I'm sure that it's true, 

‘Cause I think you're so good,

And I'm nothing like you”

And when she starts actually singing, Slade falls even harder for her which he previously thought was impossible. 

“Look at you go, 

I just adore you, 

I wish that I knew,

What makes you think I’m so special…” 

Her voice annunciating the words perfectly, the letters practically rolling off her tongue like she knew all the words by heart makes her sound angelic. 

Slade knows that (Y/N) doesn’t adore him, he’s not delusional, he kidnapped her and keeps her without her will and he’s a fucking villain, but the last line felt like an actual question that was in her soul and the way she trailed off while looking off into the distance spurs him into action. He doesn’t know the words and can barely understand the instrumental, but he thinks he knows the rest goes roughly. 

The sound of his deep humming tangles in with (Y/N)’s and the record players startling her, but Slade doesn’t stop humming as he pushes off the door way and walks over to them slowly. 

“If I could begin to do,

Something right by you, 

I would do anything,

I would even learn to love” 

He clearly motions to hug her so encase she doesn’t want to she can push away, but she just lets him and when his body locks in place with (Y/N)’s like a puzzle, Slade feels all his worries wash away and it feels like he can finally breathe for once in his life. 

“When I see the way you look, 

Shaken by how long it took, 

I could do about anything,

I could even learn to love like you”

Slade starts rocking their body together slowly and (Y/N) can feel his chest rumble with his hums that start to loll them into relaxing into him. 

“Love like you,

Love me like you.”

When the vinyl ends abruptly with some scratching sounds, the pair just stay there a little longer. This is the first time they had hugged or done anything of the sorts, usually it was only shoulder or head pats, but Slade makes a mental screenshot of this moment. Just two lovers slow dancing to a record player. 

After this, Slade leaves his laptop on a page of vinyls for (Y/N) to pick a few while he calls out to her that he’s taking a shower in the meanwhile and he even pops home some days with a new vinyl out of the blue. 

Safe to say, they both end up having a huge vinyl collection of all types of songs that they cherish.

#yandere batman #soft!yandere #tw yandere #yandere #chubby reader #darling core #yandere x reader #cw yandere #softyandere #yandere deathstroke #yandere headcanons #yandere Slade Wilson headcanons #yandere fluff #ask #yandere dc #yandere chubby reader

[shyinkbunny]

Hair Pets: Super Effective

“Ok, I have eyes on him. Give it 10, then proceed as plan- Wait…is that,”

“Hood, what is it?”

“…uck! It’s-”

The ground shook – a thundering eruption cracked in his ear – almost muffling the pained scream over the coms.

“Hood!”

Stuck watching from the rooftop of another as the warehouse crumbled in on itself.

The silence that followed for minutes as-

Slade rubbed aggressively at his eye, efforts futile in banishing the reminiscing his wondering brain kept strolling back too. He pulled his attention back to the contract. One he found himself increasingly and uncommonly stressed about.

He and Jason were working this one together, and on a notably rare occasions one of his source's intel was incorrect.

Unfortunately, that fuck-up resulted in an unanticipated explosion and collapsing building with Jason’s leg getting a rain of shrapnel, a broken fibula, a river of bruises to his side, and probable concussion with how hard his head cracked against the cement floor. Fortunately, he had his helmet or Slade doubted highly he’d be walking away with a mild case of the dizzies.

If he would have walked away at all.

Slade’s fingernails dug into his eyebrows and the skin directly below it. The pressure in his head building.

Plus, it was a very large setback in the contract’s time frame. The setback is what had him so on edge right now, obviously.

He had to locate his target again, find a new reliable source, and reevaluate the plan’s whole execution now that he was one man short. All without the assistance of Red Hood. Two years ago this would have been no fucking issue but after two years of dating, and three of working together so closely, Slade started to depend on Red Hood as his second more than he even realized. The kid’s resources, smarts, and vast background experiences gave him different ways of looking at problems even Slade fell short of. Turns out when you mix street smarts, bat teachings, hero training, and Al Ghul brainwashing you get an interesting ass mix. One helpful with planning and even more so in the direct heat of the field.

That being said, he was still getting Red Hood’s “perspective” on the case as short of sedating him for the next 96 hours, Jason wasn’t stepping completely back from the contract nor from worming his way into the details of the case. After threats of sedation Jason finally, begrudgingly, relented and camped out on the couch to get some rest.

Still, it leaves the issue that Slade was a body and two skilled hands shorter than he anticipated being. It’s fine. No issue. He’s Deathstroke, not just some mercenary, but the mercenary who always completed his contracts. All’s well and his head is screwed on just fine, thank you very much Wintergreen.

He let out another breath, fingers now pinching the bridge between his eyes. Starting to go a little over 76 hours with no sleep, he was stretching his three-day limit thin, but still aware he was too wired to actually accomplish any rest even if he tried.

A low, “hey,” drifted his way from the couch.

“Hm,” he answered back without looking from the blueprints he had in hand.

“Slade, come over ‘ere”

“I’m busy,” Slade gruffed back, the lack of sleep making his voice a tinge more gravelly. His brows furrowed when he shuffled through the piles of paper, not finding the damn shipping list times. His finger burrowed into his left temple like he was trying to physically push the steady aching thrum away. The dull electrical buzz from the dining room’s shitty hanging lamp seemed to be growing louder with every damn minute.

“…Slade”

And what the hell was Billy doing? He said he would contact Lenardo. He owed Deathstroke one and if he was giving Billy any shit collecting-

“Slade”

“Enough,” he slammed the papers he had in hand down, the table’s wood creaking under the sudden angry pressure. “I don’t have time to fuck around,” he spit out, turning his head just enough to snarl at the others direction, voice growing louder with every word. “If someone didn’t run recklessly ahead than I wouldn’t be pulling some half-ass solution from the thin fucking air to patch up this monumental fuck-up.”

His voice carried and filled the safe house dining room and echoed down the halls; the yell sounded towering in the small apartment. But the silence afterwards seemed even heavier, pressing into every nook and cranny in an almost suffocating way. The tension felt like a physical weight on Slade’s stomach.

Fuck. That was….he didn’t mean….

Slade let out a breath that felt bone deep while leaning back into the creaking wooden chair. He pried open his clenching fist around the now crinkled and torn papers and pushed his forehead in his other hand propped up on the armrest. He squeezed his eyes, hidden behind his hand, shut so tightly he started to see white spots.

Shit. His head wasn’t on right.

“Slade,” the voice was soft but stern, feeling weighty in the damning silence of the room.

Slade stopped being a coward and finally turned to face the other man patched up and camping out on the couch. One who’s been watching Slade run circles on the damn job for the last five hours.

Jason’s head was leaning back against the couch’s headrest, expression and body looking deceptively relaxed, but those ocean eyes pinned him. “Come here,” his voice was low and smooth, but solid. Commanding, but grounding.

Slade didn’t fight the request this time, his burning bitter words still scattered like ash on his tongue. He raised from the kitchen chair to make his way to the other man. He owes him that much at least for his piss poor temper right now.

The kids always made extra effort to be attentive on any of Slade’s contracts to prevent any careless shit exactly like this from happening. The need for Hood to check-in and supervise every move he made was banished long ago with Slade’s growing confidence in his ability and his judgement. Jason was competent and careful, and unlike the bats who like to micromanage absolutely everyone, Slade trusted his decisions. And he’s aware that Jason only went ahead to scope the warehouse’s shipment because he knew the place was clear. Was supposed to be clear. According to Slade’s debrief.

A few of Slade’s knuckles cracked under the strain of his curled fist.

They were supposed to go cave diving after this. Find a nice natural hot spring he could defile the younger man in. His gaze ran over the bulky leg cast. But with his damn injuries now, he frowned. That same weight resting heavier on his stomach.

“Hey.” A tug on his hand drew his eyes away from the cast to Jason’s softer gaze. “Come sit down with me.” He motioned to a spot next to him with his head.

“Kid, I can’t. I’m on a time crunch,” Slade’s voice miles softer than before. A whisper in comparison.

“You’ve been running yourself ragged and still haven’t made any progress. You’ll feel better if you get some rest.”

Slade shook his head. It would be pointless, he’s still too wired. He felt like he was gonna crawl out of his damn skin. No way would his mind settle enough to sleep.

“I’m too wired.”

“Just a bit,” Jason’s voice lulled and hand tugged down lightly on Slade’s.

“Jason,” Slade breathed out, tired.

The other man in response tried to sit up but winced from the wound on his side. Slade was propped on the edge of the couch by his side in an instant. He lifted the shirt Jason pilfered from his duffle bag and inspected the bandages for any pulled stitches. “What hurts?” he demanded. Maybe he did break or crack a rib. They said it should have only been some deep bruising, but-

“My poor feelings, asshole. Now lay down with me.”

Slade looked back up at Jason to see a smirk and self-satisfied look and not an ounce of pain. Little shit. Slade glared. He didn’t find feigning pain to be fucking amusing. Especially since it was his contract, his fucking intel that– his jaw clenched.

Jason ignored Slade’s deepening scowl and aggravation to tug on his shoulders until the bigger man was laying with his back to the younger man’s chest and between his spread legs. Between Jason’s stubbornness, the steady weight on Slade’s stomach, and the memory of Jason screaming out in pain that was playing in his head like some fucked-up background music, Slade complied a lot easier than he would any other time. Or with any other person.

But as easy as he had relented to laying back, he was still on the figurative fence about staying; his body still tense, playing at the idea of getting up and back to the damn contract.

Yet with every passing moment enclosed in Jason’s arms, warm and solid, and the steady rise and fall of his chest against Slade’s back, and those nimble fingers of his running through Slade’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp, his body started to unfurl bit by bit. Not realizing he was subconsciously matching his breath to Jason’s until the younger man breathed in another slow, deep, steadying breath and Slade followed, then let it out at the same rate.

After about a dozen breaths like that and the continuous fingers running through his strands in a lazy, relaxing manner, he finally grumbled out a, “What are you watching?”

“Lord of the Rings.”

Slade’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. He thought Jay was bingeing that show with the obnoxiously nasally nanny with the horrible laugh. He didn’t get Jason’s amusement from the show except it functioning as a brain numbing, to the point of mind melting, way to pass the time. (Although, he did see the amusement he got from the sharp-witted butler). Still, this worked better for him. He’d much rather let his brain vegetate to the background noise of the clanking metal of swords and overdramatic war cries of some dwarf man.

Slade let his eyes fall shut to the lulling feeling of soft touches and comforting scratches carting through his bangs and hair. A thumb brushing featherlight over his forehead and massaging at his temple just-so that his throbbing headache stilled for a moment.

He would indulge the kid just a bit longer, then he’ll get back to work. Just a bit. He let his mind haze and drift, and thought he felt something cover lightly over his body and tuck around his sides but didn’t bother to pay it any mind.

Slade woke to a low voice in his ear and small shake. “Slade, hey”. He blinked a few times. It was much darker than it was before. Where the previously high sun was coloring the world in golden hues, now it cast crawling shadows on everything as it sunk nearly below horizon. A slight tug to his ends tried to draw his attention again, “hey, that sounds like Wintergreen’s ringtone.”

Slade blinked twice more, then wrenched himself out of the cocoon of warmth and comfort Jason seemingly nested him in. Checking the phone, it was indeed Billy’s contact name blinking on the white screen. Slade slid the icon to the side accepting the call and seeing what intel the older man was able to find for him.

After 12 or so minutes later, and a much clearer picture of where his target Houdinied his ass to and what his new plans entailed, their conversation was wrapping up. “Hmm. Good. But Billy?” Slade bit out before the call ended.

“Yes?”

“My previous source, the one that was covering this case? Find me his location.” The unspoken intent clear through the hard words.

“Of course,” Bill said only after a second of silence, then the line cut.

That little shit almost got Jason killed with his information. Yeah. He’ll be paying him a visit.

He checked the time. About four, going on five, hours past what it was, hours of him actually achieving some sleep. He assumed it would have been more if Jason didn’t wake him for the call. Just from those few hours, he already felt loads better; clearer headed and less like he was ready to vibrate out of his skin.

Slade looked back at the other man who from the looks of it rearranged himself slightly more spread out, additional space now that he wasn’t sharing the couch with Slade’s bulk, which now that he looked he was kind of amazed that the smaller couch fit the both of them. Jason must have been squished to some extent. He frowned at the thought. If he made any of his wounds worse so Slade could have a cat nap, Slade’s going to be aggravated. This safe house unfortunately wasn’t one of their better ones, but it did in the pinch. He’ll make sure the next one is more comfortable.

Not being able to see Jay’s face, just the back of his head, but the slight tilt of its direction towards Slade’s showed he was ease-dropping in on the conversation. No surprise. Part nosy-bat, part inquisitive-brat.

As he started to make his way back to the couch, Jason’s head tilted backwards at his approach till his head almost hung off the armrest completely; an act that always compelled Slade with the desire to lean down and plant a kiss square on those teasing lips. A fact he’s almost positive the kid knew and possibly abused. Didn’t matter much though. If these last few hours alone didn’t expose Jason’s remarkable ability to read Slade, he’s not sure what would. It’s a good thing he didn’t plan on letting the brat go anytime soon, if ever, or the arresting amount of knowledge he has on Slade’s character would be fucking alarming.

But now? Now there was a strange sort of peace, of contentment, of ease, at the awareness he held. The brat made him feel a billion things. Amusement, confusion, frustration, amazement, pride, unease, disappointment, anticipation. A lust for his mind, body, and attention, and a carnal hunger so fervent he thought it would burn through his veins at times. A billion different things Slade could have seen the passionate, lively, fierce man stir in him.

But grounded and soothed would have never been near the list. Because when the hell has anyone been able to accomplish that with Slade? Well, besides Billy. Even with Addy’s attempts at comfort, it felt administrative at times.

Yet it never felt like being handled or manipulated by Jason. Like Slade was a variable one needed to manage. The anarchic, dangerous super soldier that needed to be contained…pacified…appeased.

No, in those rare moments of chaos and overwhelming consciousness, when his mind wouldn’t stop running over what had happened and what could happen. Running over every aspect and possible outcome, when it relived every sensation of each moment, even ones he’d rather gouge out of his head then remember, it was Jason that gave him a foundation to be grounded to. Like a single touch would make the world stop spinning for five fucking seconds.

“Wintergreen give any good new intel?” Jason’s arm was slung behind his head, gripping the armrest to give himself more leverage to hold his head back, his other hand fiddling with the tv remote.

Slade hummed a confirmation when he reached him. Leaning down to press a deeply craved kiss to those easily accessible lips. He lifted slightly; arms braced on both sides of Jason’s head to bracket his brat between them. Jason’s gaze was steady and soft - happy - but a seriousness edged into them.

“Hey,” his voice almost a whisper, but held the sureness as if he had yelled them. “I got hurt. It sucked, but it happens. We patch up, we get pissed, and then we finish what we started.” His gaze pinning once again. “So, you’re going to go out there, you’re gonna finish the job – remind them exactly why Deathstroke’s reputation is what it is – then you’re gonna come back and make it up to me.” His small smirk and voice held the sureness as if he’d seen the future and already watched it happen.

Slade wasn’t fooled. He knew the kid didn’t really hold him responsible for his injury, like he said, shit happens. But it gave Slade one more thing he had control of. Another way to get him out of his head and past and focused on the next step. Jason may bitch about Slade’s penchant for control, but these little indulgences certainly never do anything to dissuade his habits.

Slade let out a breathy chuckle and leaned down to rumble in his ear, “Then I advise you to get some sleep, Brat.” His tone low, deep, and spoke of lots of heady intentions.

He grinned at the step up in Jay’s heartbeat and the slight rise of color that tinted his cheeks. Slade’s lips brushing over the freckled and blushed skin.

“Promises, promises. Go to work, slacker,” Jason grunted playfully and nudged his head at Slade’s. He lifted his head back up, pulling his attention and eyes back to the show with the inappropriately dressed nanny and her employer bickering at each other. He’s so weird.

Slade laid one final firm kiss to the side of his cheek, making sure to drag his beard rough and forcefully across; just the way he hates.

“Ack! Slade, get off you ass,” he protested and squirmed away from the angry scratchy facial hair.

The mercenary strolled away with a smirk, smile pulling wider at the mumbled, “ornery asshole,” he heard whispered behind him, but he knew was said with a smile.

Slade cracked his neck and sat back down at the kitchen table. He’ll look into this new information Billy gave him, then in about an hour or so order them some food. The oddity he calls his partner always gets strange cravings for Chinese food when he’s benched and the egg rolls from the place down the street are pretty good. Slade glanced at the clock. Yeah, he’s got more than enough time. He’ll be fine. Red Hood may be out of commission on the field, but where it counts, Jason still gots him covered.

[Author's Note: Slade is all talk. He makes Jason heal a lot more before they do anything spicy. It’s all cuddles and getting spoiled. Question is who is being spoiled – Jason or Slade? (Hint: Jason only gets spoiled when he lets you spoil him.)]

#sladejay #jason todd #slade wilson #jason/slade #redstroke #writing #ao3 works #Jason uses Pet Hair! It's super effective!! Slade is now asleep. #fluff #batman #red hood #deathstroke #one shot

[froggyfics]

Slade Wilson/Deathstroke Masterlist

Fluff = 💚

Angst = 🧪

Smut = 🍉

Play Fighting 💚 Slade Wilson x fem!reader, word count: 1,279 You have a training session with Slade.

#dc comics #slade wilson x y/n #slade wilson fluff #slade wilson x you #slade wilson x reader #slade wilson #deathstroke #deathstroke x reader #deathstroke fluff

[deathslittlebird]

Thinking about Slade binding Dick up in pretty silks, using his calloused, scarred hands to stroke the elegant murmurs of muscles, kissing the scars left behind by countless battles - some with him - and whispering how Dick does not need to worry about anything else, about any exceptions. Let Slade handle that for him. 

#DC comics #Sladewing #sladick #sladin #Slade Wilson #Deathstroke #Dick Grayson #Nightwing #Deathstroke x Nightwing #dick grayson x slade wilson #fluff #headcanon

[dxrkcorpse]

This was purely my entertainment purpose but kinda wanted to share heh…

Rose was my last minute put in…

I wanted to fix and edit more of it but my canvas crashed and destroyed so I can’t fix…

#sladick #dick grayson #slade wilson #robin #deathstroke #teen titans #So those four Robins in brown color took me time to draw the same poses as I saw in those screenshots. it took me hours to draw it nicely. #fluff #wholesome #this is my first time doing this

[sladewilsonscurlyhair]

Thinking of a very nervous young Slade Wilson asking Adeline’s father for his blissing.

#slade wilson #deathstroke #deathstroke knights & dragons #my adventures with superman #adeline kane #headcanon #wholesome #fluff

[crysabee]

Anyone got some domestic Sladick Fluff? I’ve already read the entire series of the merc and the acrobat about three times….Preferably A/B/O with Slade being the Alpha and Dick being the Omega, but besides that any Sweet adorable, romantic Sladick Fluff? Give me all the names and titles you got

#sladewing #sladick #sladin #fluff #dick grayson #slade wilson #deathstroke #romance #fan fic requests #fic recs

[oh-surprise-its-me]

Sladick trying to out gift each other

So you might be asking “Mack why would Dick and Slade be in a gift off? And I’d say take this idea with quite a bit of intoxication in mind”

Slade gets Dick earrings, Dick gets him a necklace.

Slade gets him a suit, Dick gets him a new gun case.

Slade gets him a puppy with the promise of getting him a therapy training so he can help when Dick or him has nightmares, Dick gets him piranhas with a note that said ‘they are multipurpose <3’

It keeps going on and on for about a year until they both are staring at each other holding ring boxes because what’s the best gift besides declaring to the world you want to be with this person for eternity.

#sladick #slade wilson #dick grayson #nightwing #deathstroke #fluff #my ao3 is recycleyourself go party over there if you wanna #write a fic if you wanna #out of character dick? maybe. #I like to think he has flexible morals with Slade #dc comics #dc fluff #sladin #sober? me? #sladedick #mac writes dc

[lazycats-stuff]

can i request a scenario where the reader, who has been trained as a weapon for most of their life, struggles with expressing their emotions. The reader has been adopted by the Batfamily and is injured during a mission. They try to hide their injuries, but Dick or Jason (or both) find out and scold the reader for keeping it a secret. The reader responds by saying that they didn't think it was a big deal. it was a big deal. So it’s fluff and angst. The scenario can end with the Batfamily having a movie night after patching the reader up to help them feel better. If the scenario crosses any boundaries, please feel free to change anything necessary.

Don't worry, everything is well within my boundaries. And also, thank you for 500 followers! I still don't know how I managed that with what I call writing.

Summary: (Y/N) hides his emotions. After an injury, Jason and Dick can't stand it.

Warnings: medical inaccuracies, mentions of training before the batfam, Dick and Jason being good brothers, (Y/N) being emotionally constipated, Bruce trying to get closer to (Y/N), angst, fluff

Also, this is such a cool gif, (V/N)= Vigilante name

A weapon. That's all that he was taught. That's all he could remember. A weapon has no emotions, he remembers them saying. A weapon needs to fit in wherever they are. He was always told that his emotions don't matter, that the missions matter more. The goal was more important.

For a long time that's what he was told. His chances of fighting against his handlers are non existent. His chances at normal life were non existent.

That was until a mission in Gotham.

Batman and his birds somehow managed to capture him. (Y/N) still doesn't know how they managed to find him in Gotham. He blended with the shadows, just like he was taught. (Y/N) then realized why Batman was called the detective and why he was so respected and feared in their world.

(Y/N) also didn't expect to be adopted by Bruce Wayne, a man who turned out to be Batman. And more so, (Y/N) didn't expect to have choices. What to wear, what to eat, even when to wake up.

(Y/N) was never given a choice.

It felt nice knowing that he had some sort of control over his life. For the first time ever. And everyone introduced him to a lot of his firsts. Disney movies and cartoons, different kinds of candy since he wasn't allow sugar, books that are not literature classics and playing sports like basketball, football, but not American.

And it was great, but one thing that his new found family couldn't do was make him show emotions. (Y/N) still struggled with that. No matter how much he was told that it was fine and that it wasn't a sign of weakness, he couldn't do it.

One more thing they noticed how he was dismissive of certain things. They couldn't get him to rest, not even when he was sick. Not even the flu could keep him resting. Bruce had to put his foot down when (Y/N) said he wanted to go on patrol while he had a flu.

Bruce was going to maim the people who raised him in that way. Jason and Dick are going to help him too.

(Y/N) emotional unavailability hit a breaking point when he was injured. They were out on patrol and all of a sudden, they were ambushed by Deathstroke and some of Ra's assassins. (Y/N) see a fight from a mile away.

He still didn't know how Deathstroke managed to freelance for Ra's al Ghoul. Deathstroke watched him with his good eye, clearly interested in him for being a new member of the Batfamily. But there was also some sort of familiarity.

"Good job detective. You managed to adopt (V/N), a living weapon. " Deathstroke said, parading up on the railing. (Y/N) didn't say anything to that, but he could sense Bruce's anger rolling off him in waves.

Dick gripped his batons tighter and Jason gripped his gun tighter. (Y/N)'s eye were back on Deathstroke's and the two locked eyes once more.

" (V/N) is not a weapon Slade. " Jason jumped to (Y/N)'s defense.

" Well, the rest of the criminal world doesn't think so. (V/N) was known as the boogeyman, the one thing you don't want to find in the dark. " Deathstroke said, taking his blade out of his holster.

" I, up until now, never had a chance to fight against (V/N). But I will have a chance to kill him. " He finished, jumping over it. The other assassins followed his lead and jumped right after him.

(Y/N) had some experience with Ra's al Ghoul's assassins. Thankfully, Ra's had enough respect for (Y/N) and decided to leave him alone and not kill him. But it seems that the tables have turned on that matter.

The family tensed up and Jason pushed (Y/N) behind him a little bit.

" What does Ra's have with (V/N)? Why do you need his help to kill him? " Batman questioned, also moving to the front to cover (Y/N).

" It doesn't matter detective. What matters is that he is dead tonight."

Batman went after Deathstroke, not going to allow him to go after (Y/N). The young vigilante wanted to go after Deathstroke, but the two assassins jumped in front of him and (Y/N) was forced to deal with them. What a nuisance.

He fought alongside Jason, before moving to fight alongside Damian. Bruce and Slade still fought with all of their might. (Y/N) said screw it and jumped into the fight with Deathstroke and Batman.

He wasn't going to allow Deathstroke to win. And if he wants to kill him, why not give him a fair shot. Deathstroke's good eye locked with (Y/N)'s and (Y/N) went at it.

Batman wanted to stop (Y/N), but once (Y/N) got into a fighting mode, it was impossible to stop him. Bruce and (Y/N) worked together, but Deathstroke was just as equally good.

(Y/N) was thrown back with a nasty kick to the stomach, making him cough and spit out blood. He grunted, ready to strike back regardless. He was always taught to suppress the pain and just keep on going.

He dodged a punch before landing a punch on Deathstroke's mask, knocking off of his head. Batman swopped in and finished him off. (Y/N) got back into a fight Ra's assassins, dodging through their blades, helping others finished them off.

After it was all said and done, they called the GCPD to pick them up.

" Good job everyone, lets get home. " Batman said, gathering them all up.

" Thank God. We spent way too much time here anyway. " Jason said, already going out. (Y/N) couldn't agree anymore. He feels like something is off with himself. He could always tell, even before it hit him out of nowhere.

" Come on, (V/N). " Dick said, passing by (Y/N).

(Y/N) managed to sneak up out of the cave. He hoped that he was unnoticed. He knew that something was off. He knew that his ribs were fractured, but not broken.

He didn't want to do this in front of anyone and besides, he knows how to treat them. He has done it time and time again. He went to his bathroom and squatted down to get the tapes. Thankfully, it didn't hurt this really bad.

Then he opened the mirror and took a pill for the pain. He put a shirt on and was ready to go out for ice, but a knock on his door made him freeze.

" (Y/N)? We know you are here, you didn't get checked out by Alfred and you suffered a nasty kick to the stomach. " Jason said, voice muffled by the door.

" I'm fine, suit absorbed the kick. " (Y/N) lied, putting the tape away.

" (Y/N), I have a great bullshit detector and you just activated it. " Jason said, opening the door of his room, Dick following him. Jason and Dick looked at him before Jason pointed at the shirt.

" Come on. Off. "

" Nope. "

" (Y/N). Please don't tell me you are hiding an injury. "Dick said, hoping that it wasn't true.

" It's not a big deal. " (Y/N) mumbled.

" It is! I mean, we can patch you up! Is it a question of vulnerability? " Dick said, moving closer to (Y/N).

" Also, if it's the stomach or the ribs, you need to check it out. " Jason added, trying to deescalate the situation.

" Guys, I'm fi- "

" (Y/N), I swear to God, say that you are fine and I will manhandle you and patch you up roughly. " Jason said, rubbing his forehead.

" (Y/N), injuries here are a big deal. We patch each other up and that way we help each other out. I know it's not easy to forget the habits that were installed in you, Damian is a living proof of that. But you have to let others in. You are our brother and we love you. Some might not show it, but they do. " Dick said, putting his hand on (Y/N) shoulder.

" And when we patch each other up, we strengthen that love and trust. We protect each other and trust each other. And again, I know it's hard to go against everything that was installed in you, but this is a safe place. " Jason added, helping Dick with his point.

" Come on, lets get you checked out. " Jason said, opening the bedroom door.

Dick told everyone about (Y/N) hiding his injuries and suggested a movie night to make (Y/N) feel better. The others didn't like that fact. How come they didn't notice it before? How many times was (Y/N) in pain and they didn't notice?

" How about a movie night? Maybe a Harry Potter marathon? " Jason suggested, already taking the blankets and extending the couch that will make sure to fit them all.

" Okay, bring more pillows Tim. " Jason said to Tim.

" Somebody can bring some snacks. Some chocolate for (Y/N). " Jason said, arranging the blankets. Tim got up and started walking to the kitchen.

" Damian, you are going to give him talk later about hiding injuries. " Jason said, making Damian huff.

" Don't huff at me. " Jason warned. Tim came back with the pillows and put them all around.

Dick, (Y/N) and Alfred came back a few moments later. Dick was all smiles as he led (Y/N) to the couch. " Now (Y/N), lay down. "

" They know, don't they? " (Y/N) said, looking at the all smiling Dick.

" We told them, but they are not judging you. " Dick answered.

(Y/N) didn't say anything, instead he laid down on the couch, taking a blanket, covering himself. Bruce laid down next to him and the other followed quickly. Even Alfred joined.

Bruce laid down next to (Y/N), moving his arm to put it behind (Y/N). Then he put his arm around (Y/N)'s shoulder, bringing him closer to him. (Y/N) was a but startled, but relaxed into the touch. Even more, he leaned his head down on Bruce's shoulder.

Everyone noticed it and everyone was happy. Maybe he will be finally be happy and less emotionally unavailable. Maybe (Y/N) will be able to let go of the demons hunting him.

#batfamily #dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #batkids #jason todd x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #batfam #batfamily x male reader

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Sheer Irony

(Part 2)(Part 3)(Part 4)

—

Time written- 5:58 p.m

Titans!Jason Todd/fem!reader angst/fluff (TW: Suicide Mention/Attempt)

—

A faint breeze blows along your cheeks as you open the door, eyes glazing over a broad horizon full of dreary skies and rooftops. You find who you’re looking for standing ontop of a metallic platform framing along the edge of the building, his downturned head peering down at the dense, vacant streets below.

A long, harsh, catastrophic drop with just the wrong step.

Confusion rattled your mind when you wondered exactly what the hell was going on, never seeing such a trifling event happen in the common area. Millions of questions followed once you heard the screaming.

A million more followed suit when you walked in on the hostile environment, the air thick with static tension.

“You people are insane!” He had cried out by the second you entered the room, surprised to find a short crowd of people against him. Friends, colleagues, all glaring at him with accusations you didn’t fully hear.

“I’d rather be with Deathstroke than you assholes,” Jason states with an emotional quiver in his tone, growing more detectable towards the end of his words. “You think everything’s my fault.”

“Jason?” You call out to him, seeing his head lightly peek over his shoulder. Whether he heard you or not, he knew you arrived once the door was slammed shut behind you due to the wind.

“What do you want?” He asks with understandable bitterness wrapped up in a solemn tone, as if you were a stranger he could’ve cared less about.

Technically, you and Jason were colleagues for a long time, but never really reached the category of friends.

He was an obnoxious, painfully reckless Robin, but he was good. You were good, training yourself to set your differences aside to put the tasks at hand. You provided data, not violence.

The task now was to set those barriers of yours down with intentions to knock on his.

“To talk.” You reply, not wanting to approach further than you had to, but a huge part of you wanted to go further.

“Look. I don’t wanna hear any more bullshit—“

“Not about that,” you insist. “Just to talk, that’s all.”

To talk, to buy time. Anything.

Waves of guilt coursed through your veins for him, for his safety. The strong winds could easily sweep him off his feet if he allowed it, the tension in his braced legs preventing him from slipping off the ledge he stood on for now.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Jason states, his lungs burning with reach trembling breath he took. “The others think you’re crazy following me out here.”

“I don’t care what they think,” was your response, rooftop gravel crunching underneath your shoe as you took a slow step forward. “I don’t want you to be alone out here. That’s what matters.”

“Why?” He questions, refusing to turn around and face you with full disbelief on his face. “You hate me. You can’t stand me every time I’m around. No one can.”

“That’s not true,” you shake your head, slowly getting yourself to take another step forward. About four feet of distance remained between you and Jason, your mind cluttered with ideas on how to get him

“Jason, I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t need to lie to me,” Jason mutters, not believing you for a good second. You understood that he wouldn’t trust anyone after what you witnessed. You didn’t want to be on that side.

The steel frames were tall enough for you to hop up yourself, but the height was unnerving.

He remained quiet, pondering his rancid emotions running nonstop in his head. He felt himself nothing but poison; black pitch that stuck to everyone who so much as touched him, costing their skin like a cancer until it killed them.

That’s what was happening now, wasn’t it? Everyone was hating him, blaming him for things he didn’t understand. Now, here you were, coming up to add onto the pile. He assumed that on the spot. Why else were you here?

Bracing your hands along the beam, you push yourself up on it, fighting back your fear of heights to put yourself into this vulnerable position. Thinking slowly, you ponder over what else you could do, thinking over in your mind.

“Wanna sit?” You say, hoping he’d take the hand that offered such an innocent suggestion. “Talking is easier to do when sitting.”

To show this, you move into a sitting position beside him, feeling a little less tense on your concerns for falling. Jason doesn’t take the bait at first, only wondering as to why you were still even trying with him.

“You don’t need to be here,” he reverberates, but you weren’t going to have it.

“Neither do you,” you glanced up at him, seeing his attention fully focused on you, sitting beside him as of the ledge was just an every day public park bench.

Reluctantly, he shifts his position, leaving you to thank the Gods. With Jason sitting, you had much better control and opportunity to catch him, with the roof behind you to break both your fall.

“Do you want the truth?” You hesitantly ask, wondering if that’s what he needed. Someone who didn’t follow the others, who didn’t view him as a scapegoat to their problems, just because the unintentional category he fell into without realizing.

Just a glance of his bruised face in your direction after staring ahead for so long gave you the sign, smoothing your sweaty palms over thighs.

“You can be… obnoxious sometimes,” you proceed, slowly making the decision to proceed. “But not dark, or annoying, or… Look. I don’t get why they accused you on the spot. I really don’t.”

Silence continued to rattle his physique. His shifting head slowly peering downwards after hearing your words. His heartbeat began drumming in his head, his lungs burning with an irritated sting, his throat going dry.

“I might not like how you are, Jason,” you blatantly confess, “But I tolerate you enough to understand that you didn’t deserve this.”

There it was. Catching him off guard by cold facts, only to soothe the blow with truth. Your truth, the truth that should matter.

Not everyone was against him.

A part of him appreciates it, but at the same time, he grew irritated at your persistence to tell him what he already knew. It only made his feelings for you that much harder to understand.

He was supposed to not like you.

You were smart, yes. You popped one liners when you helped relay information to the Titans, read books and kept journals by yourself during your free time, and listened to music when you were in desperate need of relief after plenty of audible overstimulation.

The way you had your hair styled on different days, your persistence of spraying perfume on yourself before going to bed.

You weren’t loud, you weren’t overtly quiet. You respected business and boundaries, despite your job to hack and defy the purpose of them behind a computer screen.

He hated how unique yet simple you were. No one would suspect you of your talents, balancing your double life with little to mo effort.

“You don’t deserve this, Jason,” you say in order to remind him, watching his calloused fingers slowly flexing in his lap, signifying his various difficult emotions. You’d say it as many times as you needed to, to ram it into his every day thoughts.

“I don’t hate you,” you shake your head, peering at his battered, slowly healing face. “And… maybe I don’t entirely hate just how annoying you are. Sometimes, it makes things fun on a boring night.”

The corner of his busted lip rose in a faint, subtle smile. That made an interesting amount of sense. Maybe he was the type to irritate you on purpose, especially during his much earlier days.

His much earlier, flirtier Robin days.

“How annoying?”

Maybe, just maybe, being his friend didn’t sound like such a bad idea.

“Horribly,” you instantly reply as it became your turn to smile. “I mean it. Every day I wake up and dread what stupid thing you’d say next. What could you possibly say today for me to cringe at.”

If the both of you weren’t sitting on the edge of a building, Jason would have half a heart to nudge you with his shoulder. But, he knew your fear of heights.

“You think of me?”

“It’s hard not to, Jay.”

—

“Did I miss a party?” You announce as you enter the dark, gloomy hallway, coming to an abrupt halt at the sight of two tall men talking to one another. A pile of unconscious bodies explaining their rigorous treatments just moments before you arrived.

“You missed the fun,” Jason chides, an amused smirk quickly growing on his face. The first full bodied smile Tim had seen on Jason since they met.

“A little earlier, you coulda joined in on your kickass computer skills.”

“Oh, ha ha,” you say, catching sight of Jason’s said laptop abandoned on the ground, bits of broken glass hinting at an unsalvageable screen. “Looks like someone beat me to it already.”

“It’s you.” Tim’s voice makes your head raise, giving the man a smile as you take in his Robin uniform.

“It’s me,” you reply, feeling a nostalgic flutter in your chest upon seeing that uniform worn by someone new. “I see Dick passed on the torch. How’s it feel?”

“He’s learning fast,” Jason gestures with a raised finger before pointing towards the bodies. “Very fast.”

“I see that.”

Ever since you had made the choice to step back from your position with the Titans a while back, life had gotten more chaotic in very unexpected ways.

You changed; in heart, in mind, in maturity.

You’ve grieved your best friend’s death, silently took pleasure in violent justice in the deaths of those who’ve betrayed and harmed your colleagues. You grieved once more when masks were unveiled, and even aided the wrong crowds for a while.

At your age, you’ve seen it all, you’ve learned from other peoples mistakes, as well as your own. You hated it, but accepted the lessons learned. As off as that sounds, that’s the best way you could describe it.

You kept in touch with Dick when he needed the help from the ‘attractive computer geek,’ so you were at least aware of what was going on. Hearing it all from Tim’s perspective brought back the times when you used to work alongside a particular ex-Robin, who remained standing close to your side during all topics of discussion.

“I got to meet the great Red Hood,” you watched with a smile a few steps up on the staircase as Tim prods Jason’s chest in a friendly manner, causing a flare in his ego as he chuckles in response.

“Don’t forget her,” Jason gestures his head up towards you, Tim’s eyes catching the faint flush in your cheeks.

“Poor girl’s kept us from running around with our heads cut off for years.”

“Always gotta respect the tech workers,” Tim agrees with a nod, making you scoff in amusement. “At least you didn’t call me ‘customer support’. That’s Grayson’s favorite.”

You said you were leaving when Tim was considerate to offer you a ride, but you brush off that you had your own, intending to head out for a date in two hours.

But, you weren’t.

The Titans, old or new, didn’t need to know all your secrets, regardless if cracking them was your specialty.

“You gave him your bike?” You ask once he gets off the phone with said old bird, approaching him as he gazed up at a clear board with various equations scrawled on the surface.

“Just sits there getting dust in the corner. I trust him to take care of it.” Jason sips at his dark drink once more before trailing off to the side, setting the bottle down.

“Still on for tomorrow night?” Jason asks, watching smile form on your face. The date. It was kinda true.

“Of course. Just came by to get my lipgloss.” You smirk, raising up your cherry flavored lip product you had to fetch from under his bed where it had rolled. “Forgot it here last night, remember?”

“How could I ever.” Jason replies with a lowered rumble, recalling all the memories of the night prior, involving getting sticky, glittery cherry gloss along his lips, leaving remnants of it smeared on his neck after a very short, sexually tense conversation.

“Kinda thought you’d wear a scarf when you showed up,” he teases as he approached, amused at your eye roll.

“I don’t do scarves, Todd,” you state, feeling it harder to fight off a smile. Your hands ease off your hips to settle across Jason’s broad shoulders.

“Whatever you say, shortcake.”

By now, you should take up a job at being a makeup counter girl, especially considering how well you managed to cover up your hickies over the span of many, many months.

Your nose lightly brushes with his, his lips merely missing yours on purpose, planting a single kiss on the corner of your mouth before holding you closer, your hips smugly fitting into his hands.

You were a breath of fresh, rainstorm air after a dark storm, your perfume clinging to his clothes for days.

“Was thinkin’,” he murmurs. “We’d try to reenact last night for our date night.”

“Hmm, with a different flavor?”

“You taste a lot better without it.”

You giggle, settling your hands along his back to keep secure in this comforting embrace.

“You think of me like that?” The words softly leave your lips.

He smiles down at you, his eyes full of warmth and comfort in your presence, cradling your right cheek after fixing a bit of your hair. He can’t help but shift attention to your pretty lips; perfect petal soft skin that displayed the prettiest of smiles to his god awful humor.

“It’s hard not to, babe.”

#dc jason todd #Jason Todd x reader #jason todd x female!reader #jason todd x fem!reader #dc titans #titans dc #jason todd dc #idk #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x plus size reader #idk where I was going with this #pt.2?