#gotham would throw a fucking party

[audhd-nightwing]

jason: hey dad

bruce, concerned: …yes?

jason: i wanted to apologize for everything i did when i came back to Gotham as Red Hood…

bruce: *strangled noise*

harley, on her way to kill the joker while jason distracts him: oooh nice one, right for the throat

#dc comics #dcu #dc #jason todd #bruce wayne #batman #batman comics #red hood #harley quinn #harleen quinzel #dr harleen quinzel #jason and harley are friends fight me #they planned this whole thing out #all the batkids are in on it #cuz like #it’s not THEM killing anyone #and if harley happens to kill the joker that’s not their fault #technically yes they are accomplices in premeditated murder but whatever #they won’t get caught bc who gives a fuck that someone killed joker #gotham would throw a fucking party #and honestly i think we all know the bastard deserves it #and harley should be the one to do the honors #with jason’s help ofc #and babs definitely

[ew-selfish-art]

DPxDC AU: Tim receives an interesting email from DalvCo explaining why the CEO is not to be trusted- It's an internal email and suddenly Tim is experiencing supernatural phenomena. He knows that the two events are absolutely related, but he's going to let the cutie stumble his way through data points and vague threats anyway.

(Sorry this got long lmao)

Tim is exhausted after a long night of staking out a new drug cartel with Hood (which in itself took a lot of energy from both of them to have the patience for the other- things are good, not great)... so right now he's logging into his WE email on the train to his office because he's incredibly late. And while he scrolls and contemplates the failsafes he has to make sure Tam doesn't murder him outright- he sees an unexpected email from Vladimir Masters.

Tim's curiosity is piqued, he'd thought that Vlad would have gotten the hint after Tim dismissed him at that Christmas gala a few years ago. Most people took Tim's snubbing as a fatality in the Gotham socialite scene- Most knew him to be 'an agreeable young man', and Tim's reputation had paid a small price for making Vlad's failed vibe check known to the room. The tabloids blamed it on the champagne glass he had in his hand- Has he mentioned how much he hates Vicky Vale lately??

Tim has a few stops to go and he's pretty sure that he's going to delete the email, but in sleep deprived inspiration, he decides it might as well entertain him while he waits. The letter isn't at all what he expected.

"Hello Wayne Enterprise's CEO Tim Drake, I'm sending you this letter on behalf of the entire Midwest to advise that you, under no circumstances, come into contact with or speak to the CEO of DalvCo Vlad Masters. He is underhanded and utilizes untraceable tactics to procure deals. We have reason to believe you may be targeted in the next few days and hope that you are able to take steps for your own safety to avoid Vlad Masters at all costs.

Sincerely, 👑"

Tim feels bewildered for a moment and then... Like a cat with a new toy mouse. A game was afoot! He needed to track down these hackers, he needed to be their best fucking friend (find out their secrets & Vlads) and he needed to apprehend Vlad ASAP! Untraceable tactics? Tim scoffs, but the challenge excites him.

Arriving at WE, Tam looks ready to throw a knife his way (he reminds her that Pru does it better) and states that if Vlad Masters tries to make an appointment- accept it but give him the run around. Make an appointment and continue to contest it, change it, delay it until Tim is actually ready for him. The lights start to flicker, both of them notice it.

Everytime Tim gets a second to investigate Vlad in his office, the room's temperature drops. Tim notices it, and having experienced a number of supernatural phenomena, he knows it has to be related.

Tim decides not to beat around the bush. He comes back to the office that night equipped with a Ouija board, candles and a bag of other occult accessories. He quickly finds, upon setting up, that there is now a groaning Teenager in front of him- lambasting his efforts and chastizing him for taking a meeting with Vlad. Did he not get the fuckin memo??

Tim quickly begins to ask his questions, grateful to not have to deal with the party game board, and takes diligent notes.

"Right, so, you're just a concerned citizen ghost who knows what kind of nefarious deeds Vlad gets up to, how?" ---

Danny is losing his shit. Here he is, having done all the ground work to tell this guy not to meet with Vlad and he's already got him on the schedule! Danny took a page from Technus' book and transported himself alongside the short email. He didn't get this guy at all! Tim was like, basically the same age and clearly super fucking smart, why was he acting like this was a fucking birthday gift? Scratch that, the dude has a Ouija Board- it's like a lame ass birthday party in here!

Danny cannot help himself but return to the visible spectrum and give this guy a talking to- Which, the atmosphere of a birthday party still doesn't change, for ancient's sake this guy is taking notes with a megawatt smile! He's smiling! Danny just described Vlad taking down like, three American dynasties and the dude is nodding his head along gleefully.

Then suddenly, Danny realizes that he might be on the chopping block. Tim asks his first question and it's not about Vlad at all.

"Er, yeah. Just a concerned ghost citizen." Danny cringes.

"Right, and that's why you hacked into the Mayor of your town's email... Right Tucker?"

Danny blanches, not because the guy knew about Amity Park, but because apparently Tucker's online persona had been compromised. SHIT.

"Uh, I'm not Tucker." Danny attempts to lie- why was he so bad at lying again?!

"Of course you aren't, he's currently playing doomed, but it would have been smart to take the out I offered you. Do you want to tell me your name or do you want me to throw out another random guess? You should know that I've done my homework."

"...It's Danny."

"Certainly not Danny Fenton? Who is, sorry to say it, heir to DalvCo? The same one who totally doesn't have a school record of absences equivalent to well documented town hauntings?"

"Yep." Danny cringes, and giving up the goat, transforms back into his human self, "But seriously dude, you can't meet with Vlad. He'll just... take it all."

Tim blinks at him a few times, and his cheeks flush. Danny desperately tries to ignore that response as well as his own (he knows his ears are red, sue him).

"Right. Well, how would you like an internship? First order of business would be meeting with me and my PA Tam and helping us play ball." The guy has a feral grin. The grin kind of scares Danny, it definitely annoys him and a small part of him is curiously charmed.

"Dude you're not hearing me-" Danny tries before being cut off.

"Yeah yeah, supernatural bullshit is involved, Got that." Tim waves him off. Okay never mind, not charmed at all, Danny is completely annoyed.

"I swear to all the ancients-" Danny has to stop himself to calm down, "Dude consider yourself fucking haunted. I'm not helping you with a suicide mission to talk to the creep and I will be making your ass miserable for deciding to go down this path."

"Is that a promise?" Tim is basically batting his eyelashes at Danny and Danny is desperately trying to ignore that.

"Bet." And then he goes invisible.

"That's cute, pretending to leave me." Tim smirks and Danny can't help but let out an exasperated groan.

As it turns out, Tim is incredibly difficult to spook and his normal haunting methods are not fucking working. Has this guy just, like, seen every single horror movie?

----

Tim knows this is going to be fun, even if it means not going out as Red Robin for a while... Maybe he should get back into his night photography and give the guy a chance to enhance the creepiness of Gotham? Maybe start going to restaurants alone and get the guy to join him at a secluded two person table? Tim has plans on plans on plans.

#dcxdp #dp x dc #dc crossover #dp crossover #danny phantom #tim drake #is it a haunting if the guy being haunted dupes you into dating him? #braindead ship #timxdanny #lmao please take this somewhere. I beg. #tim who has been fear gased too many times and dealt with ras: ur haunting is so fkn cute omg #danny: please take my haunting seriously and reconsider meeting with vlad #vlad: stupid fucking teenagers overbooking their schedule #dc x dp #dpxdc

[floralcyanidee]

ᴛʀɪᴘʟᴇ ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇ

Bruce Wayne x Reader x Jonathan Crane (NSFW)

When you notice Dr. Jonathan Crane watching you and your husband at a fundraising party, you get a little curious. When Dr. Crane angers you, he presses you to explore that anger. Will he regret it?

warnings: smut, nipple play, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (both vaginal and anal), oral sex, cock warming, anal sex, anal fingering, blowjobs, dirty talk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, porn without much plot, masturbation, forced masturbation, threesome, male x male, male x female, male x male x female, cum swallowing, spitting, face sitting, face fucking, crying, sub/dom tones, dom!reader, sub!jonathan, kinda sub!bruce but not really, ya know, just pure filth

word count: 5254

author’s note: welcome to our one-way ticket to hell besties <3 I didn't proofread this because it just poured out of me and I was truly possessed by the writing demon today. I had an idea and literally ran with it. I don't think I've ever written something so filthy before lol please enjoy and give feedback!! READ THE WARNINGS this fic isn't for everyone tbh.

main masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

MOODBOARD FOR THIS FIC

One thing about being married to the Bruce Wayne was he had a thing for throwing parties and fundraisers at your mansion. This meant you had to dress up quite a bit, and you had to look really good as you were Bruce’s wife, of course. He always ensured you had the newest and most gorgeous gowns to show off at the gatherings. You’d spend the whole day getting your hair, makeup, and nails done, only to be at the parties for a few hours. And that was usually because Bruce had other duties in the city, he got too distracted by what you were wearing and needed you right then, or he simply let his antisocial side creep up on him. Tonight at the fundraiser he’s throwing, he seems content and has been by your side most of the night. Nothing drastic was going on in the city that demanded his action. But something was bothering him, you could tell. He’s slightly off, and you catch him staring at someone in the crowd a few times. You’re never able to pick them out, though. 

You and Bruce are by the champagne table, and you notice Bruce is gazing out into the crowd of partygoers again.

“Bruce?” you ask softly, putting a hand on his bicep, “You alright?”

Bruce blinks hard a few times before turning to you, “I’m fine, darling.”

“You sure? You seem distracted by something this evening,” you scan the room, but to no avail for whomever Bruce is focused on.

“I just thought I recognized someone,” Bruce says, sipping his drink.

“Hmm. Alright, then.”

“Have I told you that you look beautiful tonight?” Bruce smiles, letting a hand slide across the small of your back.

“Only about a thousand times,” you giggle, leaning into your husband.

You happen to look up, and that’s when you see him staring at the two of you. Dr. Jonathan Crane. He quickly averts his eyes away, but you have already caught him.

“Is it Dr. Crane that you recognize?” you ask Bruce, motioning to where he’s standing with some other rich psychologists.

“Yeah,” Bruce exhales, shrugging, “I thought he had left the city a while ago.”

“After the asylum got turned loose? I figured so, too. Oh well,” you say, looking up at Bruce, “If he’s here, then he’s donating, so maybe it’s not so bad.”

“You have a point,” Bruce raises his eyebrows, “I’m still keeping an eye on him, though.”

You knew of a few of the villains Bruce has come in contact with, including Jonathan. He had almost killed your best friend and sent the whole city insane. Who knows what would have happened to Gotham if it weren't for Bruce. But a part of you is curious about Jonathan- a deep, intellectual part of you. Why is he still here? Is he still a doctor? Your brain becomes dizzy with all the questions. If Jonathan is here acting casually on his own accord, you could, too. You tear away from Bruce without a word, drink in hand. Bruce calls after you, panic surging through him when he realizes where you’re headed.

“Dr. Crane,” you smile upon arriving in front of him and another psychologist, “Wonderful to see you here.”

“Ah, Mrs. Wayne. I wouldn’t miss a marvelous party for a good cause. Have you met Dr. Robin here?” Jonathan smiles back, not missing a single beat.

“I have not,” you look over to the tall woman in front of Jonathan, clad in a pantsuit. You reach out a hand for her to shake, “Y/N Wayne.”

“I know who you are, Mrs. Wayne,” Dr. Robin says politely, her Australian accent strong, “Your dress is quite lovely, I must say.”

“Thank you,” you reply with a smile, willing her to leave so you could speak with Jonathan alone. 

“Well, I’ll be off. Seems you two have something to discuss,” Dr. Robin announces her departure, much to your relief.

“It was nice meeting you,” you say sweetly as she walks away.

“You as well, Mrs. Wayne.”

You turn to Jonathan, who clears his throat as he looks you up and down. You’re nearly the same height as him, if not slightly taller, in your heels. 

“It’s really brave of you to be here, Dr. Crane,” you turn your head to the side, giving him a closed-lip smile.

“Please, call me Jonathan,” Jonathan responds, “And what would you mean by that?”

You take a step closer to him, leaning into his ear, “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Jonathan. Or should I say, Mr. Scarecrow.”

Jonathan doesn’t flinch. In fact, he grins at you as he exhales a laugh, “Those days are behind me, I’m afraid.”

“Uh-huh,” you cross your arms, “And why should I believe you?”

Jonathan glances behind you to look at Bruce, who is on edge and watching the entire conversation to ensure nothing is tried. A muscle in Jonathan’s jaw twitches, “You don’t have to. But if I were up to no good, why would I be in the presence of the Batman and his lover? Quite unintelligent, wouldn’t you think?”

“And why are you here, exactly?” 

“Trying to get myself back into the Gotham scene,” Jonathan looks at you matter-of-factly, “I’ve missed a lot being gone, you know.”

“Oh, I do know. And maybe you should’ve stayed gone,” you try not to snarl at him.

“Now, now, Mrs. Wayne. That is no way to speak to a donor,” Jonathan says, his voice dripping like honey with malice.

“You better be glad there are people around or-”

“Or what?” Jonathan asks, raising his eyebrows, a smirk itching at his lips.

“I’d fucking break you right here.”

“Sounds like a fun time. However, I’m not sure your husband would appreciate that in many, many ways.”

You scoff, “Don’t be crass. I’m not flirting with you. If I were, you’d know it.”

“There’s a fine line between desire and hatred, my dear,” Jonathan whispers in your ear, causing goosebumps to arise on your skin, “It’s a fun line to walk.”

Annoyance swells in your chest. You desperately wanted him to shut his bratty mouth. You also wanted to enjoy the rest of the party, but now that Jonathan had you riled up in anger, you wanted nothing more than to slam him against the wall and-

“Everything okay over here?” Bruce approaches suddenly, taking you by surprise.

“Everything is fine, sweetheart,” you place your hand on Bruce’s chest as a warning, “Nothing to worry about.”

“Dr. Crane isn’t bothering you, is he?” Bruce’s nostrils flare.

“Not at all,” you defend the doctor, “In fact, I’m probably annoying him.”

Bruce laughs humorlessly, “Oh, is that so?”

You cock your head at him, “Did you need something, dear?”

“Just want to speak with you privately,” Bruce says.

You go to say something, but Bruce interrupts you, “Both of you.”

If Jonathan is just as confused as you are, he doesn’t show it. 

“Lead the way, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce walks briskly to one of the guest rooms down the hall from the ballroom, making sure no one is following or watching the three of you. He ushers you and Jonathan inside, following suit before closing the door behind him. 

“You know,” Jonathan says, breaking the silence, “I never pegged Mrs. Wayne for the threatening type out of the two of you.”

You bite your tongue, and Bruce looks over at you.

“Say what you want to say. I brought the two of you in here so you could solve your conversation away from those nosy fuckers outside,” Bruce rolls his eyes, fixing his cuff links.

“We aren’t children, Bruce,” you scowl.

“Then act like it,” Bruce sasses back.

“I do not need two men on my bad side right now. Remember what happens when you’re on my bad side, Bruce?”

Bruce looks between you and Jonathan, a hint of nervousness in his eye, “Don’t bring him into this, darling.”

“No, no. I’m curious now,” Jonathan grins deviously, stepping closer to you, “What happens when someone is on your bad side, Mrs. Wayne?”

Now realizing how your words and threats may have sounded all night to Jonathan, you backpedal.

“Not what you think, Dr. Crane,” you cross your arms, taking a step back from the doctor.

“Oh really? So your antagonizing and threats don’t mean anything?”

“What do you think they mean?”

“As I said earlier, desire and hatred are very close to one another,” Jonathan says suavely, “And I honestly can’t tell which you feel toward me.”

You make a disgusted sound despite the growing need to pin this man down and give him what for. Not even sexually, but simply because you’re tired of him speaking. However, Jonathan wasn’t bad-looking by any means- and sometimes, you and Bruce liked to try new things. But you don’t think Bruce would want to fuck with a murderer and criminal, especially one he’s had close encounters within the city. Jonathan almost burned him alive once, so you aren’t sure about whatever he’s insinuating going very far with your husband. 

“Hatred,” you spit, “It’s hatred. Plus,” you look over at Bruce, “I don’t think my lover would appreciate me having anything to do with you anyway.”

Jonathan snorts, his eyes flickering between you and your husband, “Are you so sure about that?”

You furrow your brow, laughing incredulously at him, “I’m certain.”

“I don’t know,” Bruce says suddenly, “I wouldn’t mind seeing the fucker squirm on your account, Y/N.”

You nearly gasped, suddenly very aware of the animosity you were aiming at Dr. Jonathan Crane, now becoming sexual in nature. Not that you meant for it to, but now that it was insinuated out loud by someone other than Jonathan, you pondered your true feelings. As you’ve said, Jonathan was a looker. If you weren’t married to Bruce and the man wasn’t psychotic, you wouldn’t mind taking him for a ride. But you are married, and he is psychotic. 

Jonathan has his hands shoved in his pockets, a smirk on his face as he studies you, “You want this. Don’t deny it, Mrs. Wayne. I can tell by the look in your eyes.”

You purse your lips together, “What I want is for you to shut up and behave. All you do is act high and mighty when you’re nothing but a little rat.”

Bruce tries to hide his laugh by covering it with a cough, “I’ll let everyone know it’s time to leave. When I come back, you two better be taking care of things.”

You look at Bruce, who gives you a slight nod in approval to do as you wish before he steps out of the room. No one is in charge in the bedroom permanently between the two of you. The dominant role is shared or is back and forth, depending on the day. To your shock, Bruce gives you the complete reins in this situation. But Bruce knew how much you despised Dr. Crane for what he’s done, even if a part of you is desperately curious about him. Desperate enough to demean him sexually, even. You want to humiliate him. Make him cry and make him regret having even come here. You want him to think of you whenever he feels shame or embarrassment for the rest of his life. 

“A little rat, huh?” Jonathan chuckles, undoing his cufflinks.

“Yes,” you blink, forcing him to walk backward to the bed as he struggles to remove his blazer.

You shove him roughly onto the bed, watching him bounce from the mattress with a look of disorientation. Jonathan eventually gets his blazer off, discarding it onto the floor. You can’t properly climb on the bed with your gown on, so you reach behind your back, undoing the clasps that hold the silver dress together. You kick off your glittery heels, letting the gown slip to the floor in a pile. Underneath your dress, you decided a black lingerie set would do nicely. You’re glad you picked well, considering such a doting man was now staring at you like you were a piece of meat and he was starving. You try to ignore the logical side of your brain telling you this man is dangerous and crazy. But the other side of your brain is telling you that his cock is definitely dangerous and crazy, too. And you wanted to find out for sure. 

“Now,” you begin to crawl to where Jonathan wordlessly lays, watching you carefully, “Are you going to be good and keep your mouth shut, pretty boy?”

“No promises,” Jonathan flashes a toothy grin, and you angrily rip his button-up open, buttons flying everywhere across the room.

Jonathan’s mouth hangs open, “That was an expensive shirt.”

“Nothing you can’t replace,” you shrug, running your hands along Jonathan’s handsome chest before letting your nails graze his nipples.

Jonathan shudders at the feeling, and you remove your hands from him, sitting back on your heels, “Lay on the pillows.”

“Ma’am, yes ma’am,” Jonathan purrs, doing as told, surprisingly.

You hear the door open behind you, and you turn around quickly to see Bruce.

“Everyone is cleared out. Brought some fun stuff, too,” he places a box on the floor, kicking it to the end of the bed for you to grab it.

You lean down over the edge of the bed and retrieve the box, crawling on your knees to where Jonathan lies. You open the box and hum in satisfaction at Bruce’s choice of toys and trinkets. You fiddle with one toy, dragging your gaze to Jonathan with a wicked smile on your face. But before you reveal the toy, you snatch some rope out of the box.

“Now you have no choice but to be good, Dr. Crane,” you snicker, offering Bruce some of the rope to tie Jonathan’s left wrist to the bedpost with.

You tie Jonathan’s right wrist tight enough for him not to move too much but not enough to where blood flow is cut off. Jonathan tugs at the rope, looking at you and Bruce with a nervous yet exhilarating smile.

“I’m privileged to be living such a fantasy,” Jonathan sighs.

“You’ll be wishing you had never stepped foot in this house when she’s done with you,” Bruce smirks, unbuttoning his shirt cuffs and rolling his sleeves up.

“Ah,” Jonathan laughs.

Before he can comment any further, you shove a ball gag into his mouth, strapping it behind his head securely. A deep feeling of satisfaction to him finally being quiet fills you. But the joy of seeing such an evil man at your mercy is more intense. 

“You better be glad I chose the ball gag instead of having Bruce have his way with that pretty mouth of yours, Crane,” you say, and Bruce shakes his head from where he stands beside the bed.

Drool begins seeping out of the sides of Jonathan’s mouth, and you can’t help but coo at the sight of his tightening pants and his reddening cheeks. You grab his face between your fingers, squishing his flesh. You hum in satisfaction before letting go of his face and focusing on his slacks. You all but tear his belt off his hips, hurrying to unbutton his pants before ripping them down his thighs. Bruce removes the pants the rest of the way as you climb onto Jonathan’s lap, your clothed core atop his throbbing, leaking bulge.

You kiss Jonathan’s jaw, leaving harsh bites along the column of his throat as you travel down, continuing your assault on the skin of his chest and torso. You reach the band of his underwear, which you tease with your hands, snapping the band against Jonathan’s skin. He tries his best to laugh from underneath the ball gag, spit sputtering from the gaps of his mouth. You slowly peel his underwear down his legs, watching as his hard cock slaps against his stomach. You let Bruce pull the underwear off completely, and he tosses it somewhere in the room to be found later. You lean down to lick the bead of precum off Jonathan's tip before pulling away completely, allowing Bruce the room to tie up the doctor’s ankles to the bottom bedposts. You stand at the foot of the bed, chuckling darkly as Jonathan struggles against the restraints. 

“Not so powerful now, are you, Dr. Crane?” you laugh, knowing he didn’t like you calling him by his professional name, “You look so pathetic, lying there with your poor cock out for us to see. Bet you wish one of us would touch it for you, hmm?”

Jonathan stays silent, his eyes boring into yours as he yanks his arms, testing the rope’s strength. He realizes he truly can’t move or speak and that he’s entirely at you and Bruce’s mercy. Not the worst position to be in, Jonathan thinks. 

“Which of us should do the honors?” you ask Bruce, a playful smile on your face. 

It isn’t often Bruce gets to mess with the other man during your experimental sexual encounters. Still, you figure this is personal enough for him to want to be involved. 

“You can take this one. I’ve got other plans,” Bruce says, smirking deviously.

“Oh really?” you grin, “I’m excited to see those.”

You climb back on the bed, moving toward Jonathan’s lap, where his weeping cock is getting redder by the second. Grabbing the base of it, you move it forward enough for it to meet your lips. You lap your tongue on Jonathan’s tip, smearing the precum around before licking a stripe up his entire length. You pull away, letting his cock slap painfully against his stomach again. You harshly grip Jonathan’s balls, causing him to cry out muffled. You massage them as you take his length into your mouth, bobbing your head as you continue to take him in entirely. You press your breasts into the bed, letting your ass be exposed for Bruce to take advantage of as you suck off Jonathan. Bruce wastes no time walking over to you, letting his hands run over your asscheeks before he pulls your pretty black underwear off. Bruce dips his head down to flatten his tongue against your wet slit, gathering your arousal as he swirls it around your cunt. You moan around Jonathan’s cock, causing him to twitch. 

“God, I love this pussy,” Bruce pants against you, “Too bad you can’t get a taste, Crane.”

You peer your eyes up to Jonathan’s, his icy blue eyes now dark from his blown pupils. He’s glaring at Bruce, trying to regulate his breathing as his tip hits the back of your throat. Jonathan’s eyes roll into the back of his head as you fuck him with your mouth, letting his cock slam into your throat. Jonathan tries to thrust into your mouth, but you push his hips down against the mattress. You’re slobbering, and tears are streaming down your face as you take his length as much as you can, wanting him to get as close to cumming as possible. Bruce sucks your clit harshly, letting two fingers slip into your wet pussy. You groan, the vibrations sending Jonathan batty. You feel him getting close, and you blindly fumble around for the box of toys that still remains on the bed somewhere. You find it, pulling off Jonthan’s cock as it twitches uncontrollably. He growls as you find the toy you were looking for. You give Jonathan a few pumps, gripping his length as tight as you can, watching as the precum helplessly spills from him. Before Jonathan can react or cum, you slip a cock ring onto him, sliding it down to his base. He cries out from behind the ball gag, his chest heaving. You lay your head on his thigh, watching as his cock turns bright red. Bruce continues to eat you out, his teeth brushing against your clit occasionally, causing you to moan. Your breath hits Jonathan’s angry length, making him shiver. You look him in the eyes as Bruce adds a third finger, fucking into your g spot harshly as he bites at your bundle of nerves. You maintain eye contact with Jonathan as you cum, letting your nails dig into the soft flesh on his thighs.

“Lucky for me,” you trace Jonathan’s tip teasingly with your finger, catching your breath, “I get to cum as much as I want.”

Jonathan stares at you without making a sound, focusing on his breathing so he doesn’t explode into a fine mist from the overstimulation. 

“Now it’s your turn since you’ve been a good boy,” you remove the ball gag from Jonathan’s mouth, licking up his spit from his lips before he can lick it off himself.

“Open your mouth,” you demand, and Jonathan does as told.

You gather his and your saliva in your mouth before spitting it onto his tongue. 

“Now show me how good you are at eating pussy, Dr. Crane.”

You flip yourself around, hovering over Jonathan’s face as you slowly remove the cock ring. Bruce removes his button-up, laying down between Jonathan’s spread legs. Jonathan lets out a strangled cry at the feeling of Bruce’s hot mouth on his sensitive cock. You push your pulsing cunt onto Jonathan’s face, to which he happily starts lapping hungrily. You watch as Bruce hollows his cheeks around Jonathan, and the sight alone makes you even wetter than before. 

“Fuck,” you mutter, Bruce’s eyes meeting yours.

You rock your hips against Jonathan’s tongue, urging him to continue. Jonathan wishes he could bury his fingers in your cunt, but he settles for his tongue instead. Twisting and pushing it inside you, he uses his nose to press against your clit, shaking his head. You grip Jonathan’s hair, cursing at the feeling of his tongue dragging in your walls and his nose flicking your bundle of nerves. You grasp your barely clothed breasts, letting your thumbs play with your nipples through the thin lace. Bruce moans around Jonathan while watching you, letting Jonathan fuck into his throat.

“Wanna cum, you piece of shit?” Bruce pulls off Jonathan, who gasps a ‘yes,’ “Be careful what you ask for,” Bruce chuckles.

You plan on milking the doctor for all he’s got all night. You want him spent and begging for mercy. Anything to make him miserable.

Bruce takes Jonathan back into his mouth, bobbing up and down quickly and stroking what he won’t take into his mouth. Bruce allows Jonathan to buck his hips into his face. Jonathan lets out a pitiful cry as he cums in your husband’s mouth, white-hot spurts of seed shooting down Bruce’s throat. You feel Jonathan roll your clit between his teeth before sucking it between his lips as he rides his high. You growl, letting your self-control go out the window. You chase your own high, letting Jonathan torture and tease your bundle of nerves with his tongue and teeth until you finally release in his mouth. Jonathan slurps and suckles every drop of your arousal from your cunt, licking until you pull off him. 

“Lucky for you,” you pant, beginning to untie the rope bound to Jonathan’s wrists, “This next part requires your cooperation. Promise you’ll behave?”

“Yes, Mrs. Wayne,” Jonathan nods.

You let Bruce finish untying the doctor as you discard your bra. You instruct Jonathan to move to the side, allowing you to lie down in his place. You demand that Jonathan climb on top of you. he does as told, and Bruce roughly pushes Jonthan’s face into your chest. You laugh at Bruce’s typical roughness, especially when it makes Jonathan look flustered. His ass is now in the air, revealed to Bruce. 

“Have you ever been fucked in the ass like a good boy?” you ask Jonathan, your fingers in his hair.

He doesn’t look at you or respond.

“I’m asking you a question, Jonathaaan,” you say threateningly, your fingers now gripping his hair harshly as you lift his head for him to look at you.

“No,” Jonathan says breathlessly.

“Well, that’s about to change,” you say, “Any regrets about being smart-mouthed to me yet, Dr. Crane?”

Jonathan glares at you, panting as Bruce spreads his ass apart, “Not yet.”

“Good,” you smile, letting his head drop abc to your chest, “Now obey me and show me how much you’re enjoying this.”

You move Jonathan’s face, maneuvering his mouth to your hardened and sensitive nipple. Bruce takes some lube from the box he brought, smearing it against his fingers before teasing Jonathan’s asshole with the tip of his index finger. Jonathan keens around you, his body beginning to shake as Bruce slowly pushes a finger inside him. Jonathan sucks harshly on your nipple, gasping as your husband wiggles his finger inside his tight ass. He laps at your bud, focusing on trying to please you and taking Bruce’s long finger simultaneously. A second finger is added, stretching Jonathan further. The doctor lets out a sharp groan at the delectable burn. He attacks your other breast, letting his finger circle around the one he was just attached to. Bruce prods a third finger into Jonathan, and he lurches forward from the feeling of fullness. 

“If you think you’re full now, just wait for Bruce’s fat cock, baby boy,” you taunt.

Bruce twists and curls his fingers inside Jonathan, doing his best to prep him for his unforgiving length. When he pulls his hand away, Jonathan gasps from the sudden emptiness. Bruce spreads his ass apart again, his slacks and underwear now discarded as his hardened cock pressed against Joanthan’s gaping hole. Jonathan whimpers around your nipple, pausing momentarily as Bruce slides himself into Jonathan. 

“Fuck,” Jonathan shudders.

“You can stop now. I need you elsewhere,” you pull Jonathan’s head off your breasts, sneaking your hand between the two of you to his newly hardened cock, stroking it in your hand in time for Bruce to bottom out. 

Jonathan whines, collapsing on your torso as the air leaves him.

“Tapped out already?” you pout, sticking your bottom lip out at Jonathan when you lift his head by his hair again, “Too fucking bad.”

Bruce then pulls out of Jonathan almost all the way before slamming back into him, his tip brushing against Jonathan’s prostate. Jonathan screams as you guide his cock between your slick folds, his body overstimulated. You let Jonathan weakly push his length inside your soaking cunt, your walls enveloping him immediately. Bruce wraps an arm around Jonathan’s chest, anchoring himself to the doctor. His other hand grips Jonathan’s hip with intensity. The feeling of Bruce pounding into Jonathan’s tight little ass affects you directly as Jonathan pushes deeper inside you every time Bruce thrusts into him. Soon, a rhythm is established, and you’re nearly in tears from pleasure as you watch Jonathan become a withering, crying mess underneath Bruce. 

“Doing so good taking Bruce’s huge cock,” you praise Jonathan, bucking your hips with his every time he involuntarily moves forward, “You could at least try a little harder to fuck me like you want to, though.”

Jonathan’s forehead is teeming with sweat as he struggles to actually thrust into you while Bruce fucks into his prostate. You give him the benefit of the doubt- the first time getting fucked in the ass is intense. So you rock and swivel your hips on Jonathan’s cock roughly, letting him reach up to grab your breasts for leverage. He pinches your nipples, twisting them hard, sending electricity to your cunt. You pulse around Jonathan’s length, causing him to grunt miserably. Bruce’s hips are slapping onto Jonathan’s asscheeks loudly, and Jonathan’s cock twitches pitifully inside you.

“Cum, sweet thing,” you coax Jonathan, whose hair has long since lost its gel hold and has begun flopping into his face, “Cum inside me.”

Jonathan starts fucking into you the best he can, tears streaming down his face as he cums, a hoarse scream leaving his throat. Bruce is still fucking him without mercy, and you let Jonathan’s soft cock remain inside you as he whimpers helplessly, his hands gripping your sides.

“That’s it,” you praise him gently, “Let Batman fuck you silly like you deserve.”

Jonathan peers up at you, giving you the dirtiest look he can muster as you cackle, Bruce grunting as he cums inside Jonthan’s ass and on his back. 

“Christ,” Bruce sighs, pushing his hair from his face as he winces, pulling out of Jonathan’s quivering asshole.

Jonathan collapses on top of you in a mess of sweat, tears, and cum. You let him catch his breath before sliding out from under him.

“One last thing, sweetie,” you say, your tone sugary, “Sit up on the bed for us.”

Jonathan weakly pushes himself up, flipping onto his back and laying his head on the pillows.

“Touch yourself,” you demand, sitting on your knees at the end of the bed beside Bruce, “I want you to cum until you can’t cum anymore.”

Jonathan opens his mouth to protest, but you motion for him to shush, to which he tiredly gives in. You dip your hand to your slick clit, swiping at it as Jonathan strokes his sensitive cock for you. Bruce watches you and Jonathan touch yourselves, unable to really get himself up again. He instead sits behind you, playing with your tits and rubbing his large hands on your hot, sticky skin. Bruce relishes in watching Jonathan fall apart as he looks away in embarrassment.

“Keep your eyes on me, Crane,” Bruce’s voice booms, making Jonathan jump.

Jonathan gulps, reluctantly keeping eye contact with Bruce as he bucks into his hand, moaning hoarsely as he gets close. He can’t help but think about how he was between the two of you, getting fucked by you and Bruce at the same time. With that, cum shoots from his overused cock onto his stomach, and he cries out in embarrassment when you demand he get off again.

You stay like that, letting Bruce replace your hand as you spread your legs further open to allow him to fuck you with his fingers. You bounce on them, moaning quietly as Jonathan fights to keep his eyes open, his wrist flicking to the best of his ability. The night goes on, and Jonathan eventually taps out, sobbing almost uncontrollably as he runs out of cum. You and Bruce give him time alone before slowly moving him to the shower, where you help him wash off. You and your husband also washed yourselves off, assisting Jonathan out of the shower when you were all done. He’s wrapped in a towel, wincing as he walks back to the bed and curls up under the covers. You follow suit, wrapping your arms around Jonathan and soothing him as he finally falls asleep. Bruce holds you from behind, sighing contently.

“Too bad it takes doing this to humble a villain,” Bruce jokes.

“And the fact I could help was exciting,” you chuckle, “I never get to fight criminals like you do.”

“Maybe you should. You’ve got the mouth for it. Your sass is unmatched,” Bruce buries his nose in your hair.

“Mmm, I think I’m good,” you say, stroking Jonathan’s hair out of his face, “One villain is enough for me, I think.”

You and Bruce quietly watch the evil, despicable fucker sleep soundly. 

“Can we keep him?” you ask Bruce, to which he tries not to burst out laughing.

“So you can torture him more? Absolutely.”

“Awesome.”

taglist:

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader smut #jonathan crane #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne x reader smut #christian bale #christian bale x reader #christian bale x reader smut #christian bale smut #bruce wayne x reader x jonathan crane #bruce wayne x reader x jonathan crane smut #batman #batman begins #floralcyanide writes

[cosmicpoutine]

TimBerKon anon here again 👋

Okay but consider how both Bruce and Lex are really famous people who throw hella big parties and show off their sons to possible investors.

Naturally their sons also need to bring a partner so Bernard is showing up as eye candy for both Tim Drake and Kon Luthor.

Clark who was in Gotham to cover a news story seeing his son’s boyfriend hanging off of little Timmy’s arm and Bruce going to see his old friend Lex and seeing Tim’s boyfriend practically throwing himself at Clark’s son.

Both Bruce and Clark aren’t too sure as to what to do because they know their sons are best friends and practically joint at the hip and this could possibly ruin them.

and luthor is just sitting there sipping on champagne, knowing damn well his son is in a poly relationship but not bothering to tell clark and bruce because he likes to watch the two panic.

also, the media would be talking about it, there's several articles about how bernard is a home-wrecker/fuck boy and none of the 3 ever think of clarifying or saying anything because it's funny

they're giving clark and bruce white hairs

#ask #cosmic inbox #timbernkon

[lightwing-s]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢𝐢 ; 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: since your last encounter, jason has been living rent free in your head. you didn't want to, you needed more, and more found you in an unexpected way.

rating: 18+ (MDNI)

word count: 7,6k warnings: yn's dirty thoughts, sex, p in v, language, breast play,

a/n: i got lazy and gave up proof reading (again). i also got too excited and ended up writing a lot more than planned, but hey, i got to watch 'the devil wears prada' to write this, so it's a win!! Hope you enjoy it and see you in chapter four.♡♡♡

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist

“And the Blades are offside! Still no score here in Seattle, as the Gotham Blades and the Kraken face off in…” announced the caster excitedly, the game going on without Yn paying a dime of attention.

Sunday blues had gotten to you. Following an unusually chilly summer night, rain came pouring down just as you’d arrived home, covering the entire city in a dome of dullness and melancholy. Laying on your stomach, the living room darkened by the closed blinds, and the game on tv a long forgotten past time, the images of the previous night still loomed in your head.

‘Why did you do it, Yn?’, was the question clouding your mind the entire day. ‘Why did you do it?’ 

Why did you allow yourself to go to bed with the guy you despised? Why did you have those feelings in the first place? It was confusing. Everything about Jason was confusing. You never liked each other, and yet he’s all sweet and nice to you all of a sudden. He’s taking you to the hospital. He’s making sure you’re not alone. He takes you home, makes you food in the middle of the night. All after being an asshole for the past two months.

Why did he change?  When did he change? Was he always like that but you never paid attention to, or was it just a play, a trick he’s trying to pull in your mind? Is he trying to confuse you purposely, trying to play with your mind? He wouldn’t, would he?

It if wasn’t for the knocking on your door, you’d continue to torture yourself for the next few hours. Thoughts of Jason and his fucked up game flooding your mind. You heard the knocking again, groaning loudly, not wanting to leave the warmth of the sofa. But the sweet voice calling your name made you do it.

“Thank god, you’re alive!” Nessie sang, throwing her hands up in the air. Her words did not match her expression, however, painted in the most perfect mix of anger, worry and bad hangover. “Where were you?!” she asked, and you too repeated that same question at her.

“I looked for you all over the party!” you answered exasperated.

“Me too!” she informed. “I looked for you all over and Sammy said he saw you leaving with a guy behind you and that you were pissed drunk. I was fucking worried!”

“Sammy means bullshit,” you angrily replied, storming back to the sofa as you let your neighbor and friend close the door behind her, knowing full well this conversation would last long. You threw yourself on your previous seat, pulling your blanket over your legs and crossing your arms on your chest like a little child. 

“So, you didn’t leave with a guy?” she questioned, one eyebrow raised at you and a concerned expression adorning her face. “I swear to God, Yn, and I’m not even religious. If anyone did anything to you, I swear I’ll…”

“We didn’t do anything!” you basically screamed, feeling as if the room conspired against you. You could feel the tears burning your eyes, threatening to fall out. You’d hoped you would be able to hide it. Leaving it a secret from the world could mean it was never real to begin with.

“So, there was someone?” she kept her eyes on you, sensing there was something more to it. Watching your usual polished self start to crumble into a nervous mess. You wanted to deny, gaslight your way out of this. But Nessie was smart, and she knew you. She could read all your signs and tell instantly none of your words spoke the truth.

There was nothing you could do. You were now on a crossroad where any direction, any ideas, wouldn’t take you anywhere. You had to spill it. “I couldn’t find you and Jason had helped me look…”

“Jason the hot guy you were pining after?” she cut you off, her face suddenly changing from concern to slightly but mild excitement.

“I was not pining after anybody!” you argued, trying once more to clear her mind out of these stupid ideas. “He was helping me look for you, and since you weren’t anywhere to be found he took me to his apartment because he was worried about leaving me alone, okay? He was nice and sweet, but nothing else happened. Nothing!”

Nessie sat silently beside you on the sofa, staring at you blankly while she absorbed all the information you ‘d thrown at her. Under your breath, you prayed she’d stop there, that she’d be satisfied with your answer. Unfortunately, God didn’t hear your prayers. “Nothing?” she whispered, a knowing smirk appearing in her face.

You had to let out a scream, muffling it with a pillow as you did not want anyone else trying to snoop in this mess of a situation. “Nothing,” you tried to argue once again, but her beaming smile and amused expression broke you all over, forcing your eyes to roll out in annoyance. “I basically threw myself on him.”

“Oh my god!” that bitch dared to be amused.

“I couldn’t keep my hand off of him, and we… w-we…” you trailed off, not wanting to finish your sentence, but your friend finished it for you. You fucked.

“Were you drunk?” she asked, a tinge of concern returning to her tone.

“I wish,”

“Was it that bad?” she wondered. “You’re acting like this is the end of the world, but you just had sex with the hot guy you were pining all over. What’s the big deal?”

“I was not pining over him!” you screamed again, and exasperatedly continued. “And what’s the big deal? He’s a biker gym rat who’s probably got no jobs or hobbies outside going to the gym. He’s covered in tattoos and probably uses tons of drugs, and guys like that could never be proper partners and will always lead you to trouble.”

“Gosh, you were planning your wedding then?” she blankly responded.

“What the fuck? No!” you were getting progressively irritated. It sounded that, to her, this all didn’t pass as more than a simple joke, not seeing the serious issue within it. “He’s just not the kind of guy I’d like to see myself mixed with. My parents warned me a-about guys like this…”

“Oh! So, this is about your parents then?” Nessie concluded, missing the point once more.

“It’s not about them!” you shook your head. You tried to come up with something, to continue your statement, but your mouth opened and closed without anything coming out of it. Sighing deeply, you felt your energy levels start to drain. “This always happens.”

Thinking back at countless similar situations, you watched your friend’s eyes turn softer. An awaiting glint in her eyes for the story to continue. “Every time I get upset over them, when they make me mad, I just… Explode? I go out and do something stupid, something that I know would piss them off, because…”

“You want them to explode?” she cut you, more an assumption than a question. “You want them to be just as mad at you?”

Combing your fingers through your hair, you stop and wonder. You let her words sink in, a lightness over being finally understood and finally understanding yourself overcoming you. It often scares you how well she knew and understood you with just a couple years of knowing each other, but maybe that was just the three semesters of Psychology lessons speaking.

“I always end up doing something stupid that I shouldn’t have done,” your voice softened a reply.

“So, you’re saying your parents were right, then?” she inquired once more.

“That’s not it, Nessie, I-I…” you stammered. “Oh my god, please let’s move on from this subject.”

By this point, you’d already messed up your hair from how much you had nervously combed your fingers through it. There was a small lump forming on your throat, and your hands were clasped on your face, shielding your eyes from your surroundings.

“So…” Nessie started. “Was he good?” Your head snapped quickly in her direction, eyes wanting to scold her but smile failing to do the same. Failing to hold corners of your lips, you allowed the smile to spread and rolled your eyes at her apparent enjoyment. “Was he big?”

You let out a snort at the inappropriate question, but filled her in. Mouthing a ‘thick’ back at her, she let her mouth hang open, closing her eyes in deep dirty wonder. ‘How much?’ she mouthed in return, and you scanned the room for something that could resemble his majestic girth, deciding upon signaling by holding your ankles with both your hands. Perhaps an exaggeration, but you’d let her sleep with that “lie” in mind.

Her mouth formed an ‘oh’, shocked at your response, and you could swear that just thinking about it was making you a little bit wet. You proudly nodded at her, perhaps too proud of it now. Proud of the incredible achievement of taking it all in.  

“How big?” she bobbed one eyebrow up, challenging. You gave her a demonstration, placing your closed fists on top of each other. He wasn’t the biggest, but he compensated with girth. Gosh, stop thinking about him! “Lucky girl.”

“You wish,” you laughed.

“I definitely do now.”

It had been almost three weeks since you’d last seen him. Rearranging your entire schedule, you organized your new routine with the sole purpose of avoiding him at all costs. From the months you’d met him almost daily at the gym, you’d come to know what times he liked to train at: very early mornings, the start of the evening or just as the gym was about to close. Thus, making the process of building up a new schedule a lot easier.

Sure, it might’ve been a stretch to go this far to avoid him. And maybe your new routine was kind of terrible and actually sort of hindered your days. But those were measures you needed to take in order to keep yourself sane. You didn’t know what you’d do if you saw him again.

In fact, your days seemed to have gotten longer, as you spent more hours in traffic. However, the lack of Jason in your daily life seemed to have increased your happiness and tranquility. You didn’t have to worry about him being around you, ready to drop something on you at any moment. And living without his often sarcastic and teasing remarks was so less stressful. It felt like, for once, you could live your life without a shadow haunting your days.

Life at work was also simpler. Since your boss had decided that the American dating scene wasn’t for her, and instead started looking for a husband at different European social gatherings, she had been out quite often, spending her weekends away in Monaco, Paris or Milan, and missing many work days. 

That left you with more time to write. It has always been your favorite thing to do, writing away your thoughts on a paper, even if it never made it out of your notebook. 

Ideally, you wouldn’t be working as an assistant. But that was the best you could do after graduation, having to find a job quickly before your father dragged you out of Gotham definitely. It certainly wasn’t perfect, but it allowed you to keep in touch with the area you desired to work on. Even better, you got to watch the life of an editor in chief right in front of your eyes.

It was the middle of the week, the day passing by slowly as you walked left to right through different rooms and floors to get whatever your boss needed done before today’s shoot. With summer approaching its end, ideas for the upcoming fall issues were thrown around, and now Sandra, your boss, was dead set that she needed at least something done by the end of the week.

 Packing up your things and throwing them into your messenger bag, you hurriedly walked out from behind your desk right as Sandra was passing by. Following her footsteps, you two made your way out of the tall and imposing building of Wayne Publications.

“Did you get the samples I asked for yesterday?” she questioned, head glued forward, not moving to look at you.

“Yes, I do in fact,”  you replied, handing her the thin deep blue sketchbook. “I made a collage for each designer with the pictures, just as you’d asked. Gio Waters had given me some when I interviewed her, and Nadia and her sister emailed me their looks this morning.”

You explained the process as you two continued to walk, people moving away from the infamous Runway Magazine’s editor in chief. “The collection isn’t finished, but it’s really interesting, I think you’ll like it. Everything is in there. A-and… Arkham’s Neglect…”

“Arkham’s Neglect?” she wondered out loud, facing moving slightly to show you the corners of a raised eyebrow.

“They’re this 80’s punk, anarchist, counter culture, all of… that, inspired new brand. They think the name sets forward the message they want to spread,” you explained the unusual group you sure found interesting while interviewing.

“And that message is…?” she prolonged her question.

“Only God knows,” you exhaled. Stopping in front of the building, where a lavish black car was parked awaiting her entrance, she finally turned back to face you.

“Yn,” she called you softly. “If you want me to take your idea seriously, you have to make more effort than this.” The clicking sound of her heels ceased as she entered the car, the door left open for you to close and circle around the vehicle to enter from the other side.

Working for Sandra was like working for Miranda Priestly, only it was actually nice. It’d started working for her even before you graduated college, and although very… honest with her words, she was always kind enough to at least listen to your ideas once in a while.

So hearing that feedback from her was kind of heart shattering. She had finally given you an opportunity to write something, not just carry her things around and take her meeting notes. Write. And you had been working harder than ever in it, using all of your free time on preparing, planning and writing it.

The car ride was quiet for a while, as you tried to free your mind from the self doubt she’d cast upon you. Sandra typed rapidly on her phone, and by the smile on her face you knew she must have been texting her new Italian boyfriend. So, you waited till she was done typing, eyes leaving the screen to resume your talking.

“Ibra messaged earlier saying everyone was ready and waiting at the studio. Stephanie, the photographer Mr. Wayne recommended, was already set. He said they are ready to start as soon as we get there,” you finished with a gulp, and knowing you well, Sandra turned to look at you.

“And what?” she questioned, voice monotone.

“One of the male models bailed out last minute, ” you informed, her fingers snapping to pinch the bridge of her nose. “He said they were trying to find him.”

“Or a replacement,” she cut you off.

“A replacement, of course.”

Sandra simply nodded in response, and resumed her incessant typing. You prayed she wasn’t sexting with the guy again, and to avoid another embarrassment, focused your eyes on the damp streets of Gotham. Grabbing your phone, you messaged one of the other assistants at the studio to let them know you’d need to find someone else to fill the empty spot.

As you made your way to the glass doors of the studio, you watched the people inside frantically move around, readying themselves for the grand arrival of Sandra Bevilaqua. Upon setting her Louboutin clad feet in the room, they all stopped. The Sandra effect.

“Ibra!” she called out for her favorite art director, and a tall and slender man came out from behind a white set of curtains and walked to her, giving her a quick embrace before turning to you with a brief acknowledgement.

Then, Ibra and Sandra stepped away from you, deep in discussion about the photoshoot at hand, and you took that as your cue to stay back and have a small break after the incessant running being Sandra’s assistant took. You needed coffee anyway.

You scanned the room looking for the small table that usually contained tons of cups filled with nectar of the gods to the brim. Warm and delicious. Finding the table just in a corner, close to the industrial style floor to ceiling windows. By the table stood a girl not much younger than you, camera in hand, and stealing a few snacks that were also placed on it.

“They got this Brazilian thing, they call it coxinha, I think. You should try that one, they’re really good” you suggested, taking a large cup that had ‘macchiato’ written on it as she turned to see you, a beaming smile on her face.

“I already got some of them,” she laughed, pointing to the napkin tucked inside her jacked pocket filled with those little snacks, and you had to let out a giggle too.

While she continued her nibbling and picking at the snacks on offer, you distracted yourself with the not unusual studio, a place you’d come to know now fairly well since starting to work at Runway. A few models recognized you too, waving hello and moving on with their preparations.

Being part of this world was quite insane, to be honest. You grew up having to hide your magazines under your bed because according to your religious parents it taught young girls to be “depraved” and “promiscuous” and not “wife material”. When you got the opportunity to work for them, you had to lie, and you still did, telling your parents you worked for Gotham Times instead.

You were too lost in thinking, watching the traffic move down the street, that you forgot you still had some work to do.

“Yn,” one of the other assistants ran to you. “Have you found the replacement?”

“I told you to find it!” you whisper-screamed, not wanting people to know you still had problems in your hand.

“I thought you would do it. You said…”

“Find a new model,” you repeated your text harshly at her.

“I-I thought y-you just sent it to me to remember to do it later,” she told you. Fucking stupid girl, you wanted to scream out, because you had something around ten minutes to start the shoot and one model still missing. But you were once in her spot, and you knew how upset she’d get after. 

So you took your coffee and planned to walk out of the room in search of a model, even if you had to beg people on the street to do it. However, you didn’t count on someone blocking your way out, nearly causing you to drop your coffee if he wasn’t fast enough to hold the cup for you.

“Careful there,” he smiled, but your face turned to a frown as soon as you recognized the dark hair and the sky blue eyes. “Hello, love. Didn’t let it spill on you this time,” Jason winked, trying to initiate a conversation, a smugness set on his face. 

Rolling your eyes, you removed your cup out of his grip, and bumping on his shoulder, walked away. Beelining to the corridor, you pulled your phone out and proceeded to search for the several phone numbers you’d be calling for the next few minutes. As you tried to think of what to say, rehearsing the words in your head, the blue eyed man would flock in instead, slowing your work down tremendously. But you had bigger problems to solve.

As you had anticipated, for the past ten minutes you had your phone glued to your ear, having called dozens of different modeling agencies begging them to send you someone, something, to save you. However, the best they could give you was “We can try, but it’s too last minute”. Well, fuck them. Now, you were about to run into the streets and start begging people to model for a fashion magazine.

“Yn!” you heard the soft yet powerful voice of your boss calling. Running back inside, you spotted her chatting with Ibra in the middle of the room. “Have you found a replacement?” she asked as soon as you arrived beside her.

“Errm… The agencies said it’s too last minute to find someone,” you offered, already awaiting reprimand.

“How come… How are we supposed to start the shoot then? Ibra!” she called Ibrahim again, words starting to just jump out of her mouth, something she rarely did, but that only happened when she was truly exasperated.

“We can start shooting the other models until Yn…” here it comes. “... finds someone else to fill the spot, yah?” he looked at you, eyes begging you to comply, and you did so, nodding incessantly as Sandra smiled away, happy with the option presented by the art director.

With a deep breath, you took another look around, tried to find something to distract yourself for just a moment. Mind working at a high voltage, you felt like you needed to decelerate, to take one, two, three breaths till your mind could start working again. The stressful situation making you instantly uneasy.

Your distraction came in the form of the raven haired demon, chatting happily with the blonde photographer you’d spoken to earlier. It then came to you dozens of questions about that situation. Why was Jason here in the first place? You’d only ever found him at the gym and at parties, and you honestly didn’t know what the hell he did for work, but he certainly didn’t work at anything related to this. This was your job, you knew everybody. He was never around before, unless…

Unless he knew the photographer.

She was beautiful. Long blond hair, eyes as blue as his, and an enchanting smile even you couldn’t deny. Were they together? She did seem a lot younger, but it’d be just like the type of guy he is to go after fresh, young babes. Urg. You hated him. Were you one of his young babes? Were just a dumb little fuck?

Urg. You wanted to scream, but you couldn’t. Instead, you opted for burning holes in his head with your eyes, glued to the scene ahead of you. He was laughing, laughing, with her, like you were all a joke. If everything was… Stop, Yn. You won’t get mad at him. You won’t. But the ache in your heart told you otherwise.

“Yn?” Sandra snapped her fingers before your eyes, breaking you from your trance. “What are you doing? Have you figured it out already?”

“Hmmm… I’m still thinking,” you gave a half-assed reply. Your eyes lingered from her to the boy stuck in your head. And she must have been following your gaze, because her own head snapped to the two inappropriate flirts chit chatting on the corner. A bright smile forming on her red lips.

“Perfect,” she stated softly and took one step in their direction.

“Wait, no!” you screamed, pulling at her arm. “Jason isn’t a good idea.”

“You know him?” before you had the chance to fix your mess, she continued. “Have you seen him naked?”

You almost choked at her question, and could bet a million dollars your face must’ve turned red. “W-why would you think that? I don’t know him.” you lied, and she clearly saw through you, offering you a look adorned by her frowned eyebrows.

“You just told me his name, Yn. We’ll be needing him to pose shirtless for the shoot. We are, after all, doing a “Sculpted Bodies” issue. And he looks to be pretty muscular.” Taking her glasses from where they stood hooked to her neckline, she placed it on her nose to take a better look at the man in question, returning her walk in his direction. “Don’t tug at my arm again, you’re not my child and call Ibra to find this man a new outfit. Hey, you?”

She screamed, and like a magnet, all eyes were on the scene.

“Jason, isn’t it? Yn here told. We are in need of a new male model, would you go back there and change?” she let him no, offering him no other option.

“Jason can’t,” you tried to argue, and his eyes snapped to your frame.

“Why not?” he asked, smugness still prevailing on the way he talked to you. “I’d love to.”

“That would be an awesome idea,” the blonde photographer chimed in.

“Of course you think so,” you gave her a forced smile, holding yourself together to not roll your eyes in front of your boss. “He has work.”

“I do not,” he scoffed, looking you straight in the eyes.

“Perfect!” Sandra clapped. “Ibra honey, find this beautiful piece of man a new outfit.”

Turning around, Sandra walked away, the blonde photographer you didn’t even care to remember the name following suit, swaying her hips as she strolled on the wooden floor. Moving your face, you found Jason’s eyes still lingering on your, a dark smirk plastered on his face.

“Please, don’t,” you asked, almost begging if you weren’t too proud.

“Why?” his question was filled with amusement. “Your boss said it herself. I’m perfect.

“You’re ruining my day,” you hissed through gritted teeth. In an attempt to look intimidating, your closed wrists rested on your waist, but there was no way you could ever frighten Jason.

“Why? Can’t stand the sight of me for too long, love?” he now whispered dangerously close to your face. Hoarse voice making you shiver. “Didn’t think I’d noticed you avoiding me at the gym?”

“Someone here is paying a lot of attention to me, it seems,” you hit him back. You prayed no one around noticed your interaction, because they would see clearly that there was something going on between you two.

“I wasn’t the one staring, was I?” he deadpanned. If any of you moved an inch, your noses would be touching, and probably much else would follow. Gathering all your strength, you pulled back.

“Fuck you,” you whispered before moving away.

“Already did,” he bit back a smile, walking past you towards Ibrahim to go and get changed. His own hip swaying left to right as he walked, the movement hypnotizing you as he went.

Soon enough, all models were positioned on stage, barely sporting any clothes bar some thin skin toned underwear, transparent fabrics or one single piece of garment. Jason, in all his glory and toned chest, wore a pair of white boxer underwear that left evident the not so little friend he owned down there.

One makeup artist had bathed his chest with some kind of oil, sliding her dark blue nails over his entire torso. In clear fuck boy behaviour, a shadow of a smile loomed his face when he looked at her through his lashes. You felt a muscle on your jaw jolting at the interaction, deciding that you’d had enough, and would be much better off attending to something else.

You tried the coffee table, but not even a sweet macchiato could clear your mind of the man you fucked and wished would desintegrate. Through the corner of your eye, you dared to steal one more look at him, only to find his eyes already set on you. Even from afar, you noticed them darkening, changing their essence to something that left you uneasy. In desperate need of air.

Truth be told, this man rented a four story penthouse with three hundred bedrooms in your mind since the night you’d slept over at his. Occupying a space that once was free to help you function properly, but now, you were a horny mess 90% of the day. Yes, you touched yourself to his picture lingering in your memory countless times since that day. And each one of them made you feel better than the other.

However, none of them had you feeling as good as he had made you feel that night. None of them had his touches to drive you wild, or gave you the feel of his tongue on your nipples. None of them whispered dirty things in your ear. But more specifically, none of them made you come as much as he did in just one night.

Shaking those thoughts away, you averted your eyes from his and sat down on a puffer chair, watching the photoshoot with an empty head. The group shot was done, as Stephanie, as you remembered, dismissed the other models to start on the individual shots. And to no surprise of yours, she had Jason shoot first.

He posed and flexed his muscles to her loud cheers and claps, letting out laughs and hypnotizing smiles you found yourself hooked to. Their partnership was evident, as Jason understood her words and requests promptly, and you had to admit she seemed to know just which angles and positions he’d look hotter.

Sandra and Ibra watched the little show just attentively as you did, but you were sure the thoughts in your head never crossed theirs. Giving short jumps, and faking boxing punches, he turned the playful shoot into something more intense. His eyes, eyebrows and his whole demeanor change drastically, to now exuberate this dense, dark, sensual, almost pornographic, aura.

He lowered the hem of his underwear a bit, showing you the trail that had driven you crazy the last time you peered at it. Now, it was on full display to you, and you had to bite down at your lip to hold in the moan you wanted to let out. He turned around, showing you his back, with his side profile setting up what you already thought would be the perfect picture. You wondered if any of your marks could be seen on his back, if Stephanie could see them from up close.

Your breathing hitched, and you had to cross your legs and feel just a bit of friction there to pull yourself back together.

The music in the studio shifted. The dark, sexy tunes of The Weeknd turned into the more upbeat pop rock sound of SZA’s F2F, a surprise to you, given the feel and themes of the photoshoot, but something that totally spoke to you in this moment of your life.

You couldn’t take him out of your mind, you thought of him until you fell asleep. You wondered if he planned on making Stephanie the girl for tonight. Or worse, if he’d already done it, done her. It had been a while since that night, he wouldn’t take that long to find someone else to fuck like he did to you. Fuck like he fucked you.

The thought made you feel nauseous.

Just as the next line began, the sudden realization of your feelings hit you like a train. The need to be slammed against a wall, picked up and fucked like you would never need your legs again, justified by the light blue shade indicating your ovulating period on your tracker app. That explained everything, you thought, finding the only possible way you could ever be this crazy about a man.

When Miss SZA said ‘Now I’m ovulating and I need rough -’, that was it. No truer words were ever spoken. Just his presence was enough to make your thoughts incoherent, but having him doing all those poses and stares was driving you insane. Oh, how it sucked to be a woman in heat!

You didn’t realize you bit your lips until the silvery taste of blood hit your tongue, and you averted your eyes from him to instead stare at your own nails. Afraid that if your eyes lingered on him for much longer, you wouldn’t be able to control yourself.

When Stephanie’s voice trapped your attention to something the distance didn’t let you decipher, you felt a tightness in your chest. A weird feeling of fear, anxiety and desire mix together, as Jason refocused his sight on you, walking slowly in your direction. His man tits bounced as he walked, perfectly muscled, and perfectly fit for the photoshoot.

Where were you with your head, you thought. There was no way Sandra would have ever listened to your nonsensical words, he was clearly perfect for that. His body was perfectly sculpted, as if he was handmade by Michelangelo himself, and perfectly decorated by his countless tattoos. 

You assessed him. Up and down. Every inch, every single detail. Eyes lingering longer than you should, as he walked to you slowly. His eyes darker than you remembered, the bright blue turning deep. His body moved light, lighter than a feather it seemed, as if he glided instead of walk. Everything in him screamed godlike, and you licked your lips as your mouth seemed to dry. Still focused on you, he licked his own lip, making you feel…

Yn. What are you doing?

Breaking away from your thoughts, your eyes widened from the realization of what your mind was doing to you, rushing away from your. Out of the room, out of the building, out of here. You felt your heart race, speeding faster than a Formula 1 car. The air trapped in your lungs, making it harder to breath.

“Ouch,” you heard someone complain from behind you, as you closed the door without looking and sprinted towards one of the corridors. “Yn!” you heard his voice call, but you could not stop. Fuck, why is he here?

Taking a corner, you found a door leading to some outside area when Jason’s grip stopped you from taking any step further.

“What the fuck did I do to you?” he questioned bitterly. You had to roll your eyes at that. What haven’t you done?

You tried to remove yourself from his grip, but he was insistent. “What the fuck did you do to me?” you laughed sarcastically, finding amusement at his clueless question. “God you’re fucking infuriating.”

Turning around, you forced his hold off, but you were playing yourself if you ever thought you could fight him. You basically dragged him along, but in reality he didn’t move an inch. He was heavier and stronger than any weights you pulled at the gym.

“Oh, you leave my apartment like a mad woman. Did everything so you wouldn’t have to face me for weeks and tried to sabotage a job opportunity, and I am the one who’s infuriating?” he spat out. His face getting red from anger.

“Haha, you were not even supposed to be here!” you spat in return.

“Oh, so am I not supposed to support my little sister?” he inquired. You went quiet.

His sister. His fucking sister. How stupid were you. “You’re ruining my job,” you tried to find an argument. Something to fight him back.

“I saved your job right there!” His eyes grew large, burning into yours. He wasn’t wrong, but he also wasn’t particularly right.

“Let me go! You’re hurting me,” you nearly cried out, wanting to flee this situation desperately. He let you go, and in his eyes, for the brief moment you dared to look in them, you found a shadow of guilt.

With heavy footsteps, you made a beeline to the door, feeling the lump on your throat tightening. 

“You can’t take that night off your head too, can you?” he voiced, and you had to stop. He was thinking of it too, all this time. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you tried to calm yourself down. Swans, rainbows, blue ice cream, new skin care products. Anything good thoughts to take him, this, out of your brain.

“You’ve been thinking of it all day. All night,” he continued, his voice sending shivers down your spine. You felt him behind you, a looming shadow above your small frame. “My lips on your neck. Your nipples,” he said, fingertips gracing your exposed arms. “My fingers inside you.”

Your eyes were closed. Picturing every scene, every word that left his mouth. He was right, you couldn’t shake him off your mind, but so couldn’t he. He was just as much stuck on it as you. You was just as much in his mind and he was in yours. Just as pathetic.

You felt his breath touch the skin on your neck, and his fingers pulling your hair out of your shoulders. “Me ripping you apart,” he whispered, voice carrying so much lust you had a hard time holding up.

You didn’t.

Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you noticed his heavy breathing. His oily chest rising and falling, almost touching your back. So close you felt the bulge in his underwear sliding against your bum. Beside you, you found a door.

Then, you made a promise. If the door was locked, you would leave him there, you would not look back. You’d forget everything and anything about Jason. However, if it was open…

It was. Opening into a small and empty room, you let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. And then, looking at him from over your shoulder, you begged for confirmation. You begged him to say he felt it too. That he needed it too.

Bobbing his head to the side, he motioned towards the opened room, telling you to get in. You did.

As soon as Jason closed the door behind him, you pushed him against the wall, frantically searching for his lips and finding it in a desperate, needy kiss. You needed him, you were starving for him. You needed his lips, you needed the air in his lungs. His breath, his warmth, his hands all over your body. You needed every single piece of him he had to offer, because he’d been in your head all week long, making you mad, deconcentrated, a mess. And he needed to pay for all that.

Spinning you two around, Jason had you pinned against the wall. Your legs didn’t waste time before wrapping around his waist, and it took him no effort to find a place for his hands on your ass, holding you up and close. You kissed ferociously, hungrily. Your tongues battled each other, struggling for power. Your fingers at the nape of his neck tugged at the hairs and he moaned inside your lips. Just like the last time.

But unlike last time, you did not have time to waste.

Pulling his dick out of his underwear, you let your legs go from his waist to take off your jeans. “Someone is eager,” he joked.

“Shut up!” you snapped, bringing him back for another deep kiss. He stroked his penis and you could feel his hands moving close to your belly. Your naked ass hit the cold stone wall, and your body jolted a little. Pulling at your waist, Jason had you bent over a desk in no time.

He tickled your folds with his head, but your hands on his wrist told him you were not playing today. He slammed inside of you with no second thoughts, and you almost let out a scream if it wasn’t for his mouth slapping on your lips. You felt your insides burn, his girth ripping you open as he slammed his dick in and out of you with speed. His calloused hand smacked against the soft skin of your ass, letting out a loud sound around the room. You nearly cried, body shaking as the skin burned where he had hit.

The smell of sex filled the room, as the sound of him hammering against your juices echoed on the walls. Jason started grunting behind you, his throat releasing feral sounds that had you hitting your high in less than a minute. Not much later, you felt the warmth of Jason’s seed filling you up, and your mind freaked out for a brief moment before it was clouded again once he forcefully turned you around and tackled you in another kiss.

Sitting on the desk, you brought him closer by his penis, pulling it in yourself and starting to grind against his crotch. Jason let a laugh vibrate through your body, mouths still tangled together, holding tightly at your thighs and thrusting hard inside of you. He slid a hand inside your shirt, taking one of your breasts out of your bra and pressing it so hard a tear formed in your eye.

Whatever the hell you two were doing now felt incredible. Your mind was starting to go numb again, and the tightness you’d feel minutes earlier had already returned. You let out a few cries in Jason’s mouth, as his teeth picked at your bottom lip, making sure you’d leave here with them red and swollen.

He didn’t care if anyone notice you’d just fuck. He wanted to parade it around. The thought of everyone knowing he had you all fuck over in an empty room making his release shoot within you once again. However, he didn’t stop until he felt you wall clenching around him, milking all he had left as your own milk slid through your legs.

As you tried to steady your breath, Jason left pecks on your lips, cheeks, and eyes. God damn it, he loved your fucked out face, he loved you post sex glow. He loved…

You search for his lips. They were warm, and without them you felt cold. You felt him moving out of you, and the emptiness afterwards. He resumed his little pecks on your lips after he’d put his penis back inside his underwear, handing you yours to put back on. You took them, but instead of putting them on, let it hand over his shoulders and you pulled him into a deeper kiss.

This one, though, was passionate. Slow, careful. It made your stomach spin, and the butterflies get busy in your core. It was good, and you wanted to be in it forever. You wanted to…

No! A voice screamed in your head, and you pushed him away immediately. You do not have feelings for Jason. You do not.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Jason asked, a hand on his lower lips taking you to the bite you’d just given it. 

“What the fuck is wrong with me?!” you screamed exasperated, putting your pants back on. “You are what’s wrong with me, Jason. You!”

“Me?! You’re the one who threw yourself on me,” he threw his hands up in defeat.

“After you kept putting things in my head…”

“Me? I keep… What the fuck do you have in that fucking head?” he cut you before losing his temper. You were truly something incredible.

“A brain. Something you lack, perhaps,” you replied harshly. “You keep making me do these stupid things.”

“I didn’t make you do anything, you know it well,” he stated, hands hanging on his hips, looking at you as if you'd just gone mad. Perhaps you really had. “Stop acting like an innocent little angel, because you’re nothing of it. Nothing!”

You let your mouth hang open, flabbergasted that he dared to say something like that. You know you were no angel, but he was completely missing the point. “That’s not it!”

“And what is it then?” he inquired, anger painting his face red once more.

“You’re just a fuck boy,” you screamed and he stopped in his tracks. “If you think I’d waste my fucking time in a lowlife like you, you’re just fucking wrong!” you spat out. The words had left your mouth before you could properly think of them, emotions taking over your thinking process. But they were out, and they hurt Jason more than he’d like to admit. It felt like something broke inside his chest, the shattered glass of what once was his heart.

“You’re the one who acts like a stupid spoiled bitch,” he returned, soon regretting it. Your eyes filled with water, and some tears fled without your consent. Those were the words that hurt you the most to hear. Not because they were new, but because you’d been told that countless times, to the point you actually believed it.

Opening the door with rage, you ran out of the room and stomped your way outside of the building. A single tear sliding down your face, the effort you put to keep the others in taking inimaginable strength. 

When you got to the reception, the other assistant from earlier noticed you coming her way. “Yn,” she called worriedly.

“Tell Sandra I’m heading out. I’m feeling sick.”

The cold wind welcomed you outside, forgetting everything you’d left in the studio to head home. You wanted to fall to the ground, curl up in a ball and cry your eyes out. Never have you felt this upset and frustrated. And it wasn’t even Jason’s fault. So you arrived home, threw yourself on the sofa, and allowed the tears to fall.

A single tear fell from your eye as you stared blankly at your bathroom door. You were curled up on the floor, hugging your knees against your chest, waiting for those damned three minutes to be over.

You were late. Weeks late. And anxious thoughts were starting to take over. You would be fucked. Your parents would kill you. It would ruin everything. You were too young, and you were just starting your career. It just can’t be happening. There was no way you could do it on your own. That was not part of the plan.

The lump in your throat only got tighter. Counting the seconds desperately, you missed the count dozens of times, but you were sure the wait was now over.

Forcing yourself to stand up, you take slow steps to your sink. Getting the white and blue stick in your trembling hands, you couldn’t bring yourself to look. Too afraid of the reality it could bring you.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. Red eyes, puffy cheeks. You don’t even remember brushing your hair today. Taking a deep, prolonged breath, you take a look down. The eight letters showing on screen scaring you shitless.

Pregnant.

Oh, fuck!

.

.

tag list: @igotanidea ; @acornacreacure ; @erochuu ; @jasontoddslover ; @killxz ; @kysrion ; @loonymoonystuff ; @munimunni ; @novs9011 ; @spideytingley ; @starcrossedtrek ; @sttrawberries ; @vanillaattack ; @veryfabday @vissavin @xxsweetnlowxx ; @willieoo

#jason todd au #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd #jason todd x you #jason todd fluff #jason todd x yn #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagines #jason todd blurb #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x female!reader

[luxaofhesperides]

Ghostlights as college roommates and maybe some identity shenanigans thrown in would be so fun! Maybe dannys doing a little vigilante work on the side as well to up the secret identity mayhem

Danny would like to say his college career is going well. Gotham isn’t where he was expecting to pursue higher education, but the engineering scholarship he got through the Wayne Educational Foundation was just too good to turn down. It even covered the cost of an apartment! Although, the apartment is shared with another student who got a Wayne scholarship. 

Even with that, Danny lucked out and got a great roommate. Duke Thomas is chill, kind, respects Danny’s space and doesn’t throw wild parties or invite random people in at all hours of the day. He even joins Danny twice a week for study sessions!

Really, it would be the perfect college experience except for one thing: the ghosts.

Danny thought they’d stay in Amity Park. They had no reason to stray from the city where the portal was, and his parents are more than enough to keep most ghosts away. It took his friends, Jazz, and even Vlad to convince Danny that he wasn’t abandoning Amity Park and that the city wouldn’t fall while he took a few years to focus on himself. 

He worried right up until he got to GCU and walked the campus for the first time. Then he decided to enjoy the four years he had on the scholarship to get his degree and live his own life like a normal person.

To say he’s pissed about the ghosts is an understatement. 

The one thing he was looking forward to most is not being Phantom. Gotham is home to the Bats and they’re more than capable of handling everything in the city. It means there’s no need for him here and he can focus on school and enjoy going on invisible flights without worrying about being hunted down or having to fight a ghost. 

“Are you fucking kidding me,” he mutters under his breath as he feels the familiar chill race up his throat, A cold mist wafts out of his mouth, curling around his words, and Danny quickly ducks his head and hides it from sight. 

“Did you say something?” Duke asks, looking up from where he leans against the kitchen counter, squinting at a recipe on his phone. 

“Nah,” Danny lies. “Just stressing.” He gestures to the papers he has spread out on the dining table, then stands up. “I’m gonna take a walk. Maybe that’ll get my brain to work correctly tonight.”

“Got your phone on you?”

Danny reflexively drops a hand to his pocket, checking that his phone is where it’s supposed to be. It’s what Duke asks every single time Danny mentions going out, worried about Danny being unprepared for Gotham. It’s nice of him, though Danny does wish he can say that he’s survived a lot worse than a few muggers. 

“Got it.”

“Alright. I’ll try to work on dinner while you’re out.”

Danny nods and offers Duke a small wave before pulling his shoes on at the door. He grabs his keys and heads out, double checking that the door is locked behind him. 

Then he glances around the hallway, checking that the coast is clear, and pulls up the chill of awareness in his chest. Slowly, he breathes out, watching the blue mist waft out and lead towards the stairwell. 

“Wonder who it is this time,” he mutters to himself, going into the cold, concrete stairwell. It always feels a little off in there, as if he’s been removed from the rest of the world when the door closes behind him. His footsteps echo oddly in the space, so Danny chooses to fly instead, keeping his feet off the floor. 

A few flights down is when he sees her: pale and translucent, a faint blue glow around her. She’s a familiar face. Emilia is one of the first of Gotham’s ghosts he’s met, leading to the rather unpleasant realization that ghosts don’t only come from the Infinite Realms. There’s a strange sort of magic in the very foundations of Gotham that makes it the way it is, creating ghosts that are different enough from what he’s used to that it leaves him off balance. 

Gotham keeps her dead. Few get to pass on peacefully, and most have to wait until they grow weak and wither away, a second death, before they can be released from the living realm. The ghosts of Gotham are pale and weak, for the most part, and try to cling to him so grow stronger from his ectoplasm. 

Most want him to help them pass on, or give them a way into the Infinite Realms. Some want him to bring justice to their killers. Others want to kill him and take his ectoplasm for their own so they can continue their reign of terror in Gotham, unable to be stopped even in death. 

Emilia gives him warnings. It’s not always her, but she tends to be the one to draw him out of his apartment, pulling him into a vigilante lifestyle because he can’t bring himself to refuse anyone who asks for his help, and the dead in Gotham have no one else to ask.

“Danny,” she greets. “Nueve is out again. He’s going after the ghosts near Chantilly Street.”

“The sun isn’t even down yet,” Danny grumbles. Nueve, an old gang enforcer who died a few decades ago, cannibalizes other ghosts. It doesn’t destroy the other ghosts, not really, but it makes them feel pain when they shouldn’t be able to feel much at all. Taking their limited reserves of ectoplasm makes him momentarily stronger, and he uses that stolen strength to try to harm the living.

He’s been successful a few times. Danny makes sure to rip him apart as much as possible these days; he won’t be here forever, but he’s hoping that within his four years at GCU, he’ll be able to permanently stop Nueve.

Times like these, he misses having a Fenton Thermos with him. Though he’s not entirely sure it would work on Gotham’s ghosts with how different they are. 

Emilia follows him down the stairwell to the ground floor. Once there, Danny shoves his hand into the floor, taking out the backpack he’s hidden in it. He’s done this change of clothes so often he can do it in just a minute now, hiding his face and pulling on gloves beneath a large hoodie with old ectoplasm stains along the sleeves and hem. A gas mask is pulled on as well, covering the bottom half of his face, a necessary addition to his Ghost Work Outfit™ after he almost got caught in some Fear Gas during Scarecrow’s last attack. 

“Alright,” he says, “Lead the way.”

Emilia takes off through the wall and Danny hurries to follow, going invisible as he hits the streets. 

It’s still early evening, the sun not yet fully set. Plenty of people walk along the sidewalks and cars pass by endlessly, honking at each other as they try to go twenty above the speed limit. Danny does his best to avoid running into everyone, deftly dodging the reaching hands of a few ghosts who spot him as he sprints by. 

They only go a few blocks away from his apartment building, turning into a dead end alley where a group of teens (living, for once) are stuck with their backs to the wall, clinging to each other as they warily watch the man in front of them carelessly twirl a gun around his finger. 

The man makes a strange clicking noise in the back of his throat, and it takes Danny a moment to realize that he’s trying to talk. 

Still invisible, Danny sneaks around to stand in front of the teens, ready to bodily protect them. The man looks alive, and Danny see any ghosts around save for Emilia, standing at the mouth of the alley. There’s something strange about him; his movements seem just a little off, not quite as fluid as they should be. It’s not the movement of someone on drugs. It’s something that screams uncanny valley.

The gun’s handle drops solidly into the man’s palm. He makes another few clicks, then raising the gun to point at the teens.

“Bad idea, pal,” Danny says dropping his invisibility. The teens behind him startle, gasping and trying to press themselves further into the wall. 

The man’s eyes flash weakly and the pieces click into place in Danny’s mind. Nueve must have gotten strong enough to possess someone. That is… alarming, to say the least.

He rips the gun out of the man’s hand and tosses it aside. Then he pushes away the man’s arm when Nueve makes a clumsy attempt to punch him. With his chest left wide open and undefended, Danny takes the chance to shove his hand into the man’s chest, feeling for the familiar chill of a ghost. 

And then he wraps his fingers tight around it and pulls out Nueve, leaving the man to collapse. 

The teens behind him scream and Danny winces. 

Pulling out a faintly glowing human figure from someone’s physical body does not look good. It’s the best way to end a possession, but it does look alarmingly like he’s just ripped someone’s soul out of their body.

Keeping hold of Nueve’s ghost, Danny steps to the side. “You guys should go now. Take care.”

The teens don’t need any more prompting. They take off in a run, tripping over each other in their haste to get away.

Danny spares a glance to the man unconscious on the ground, but there’s nothing he can do with an angry ghost in his hands, so he has no choice but to leave him there as he flies up to a rooftop farther down the street. 

“How many times do we need to do this, Nueve?” he asks tiredly, shaking the ghost.

“These streets should be mine!” Nueve howls, trying to break free of Danny’s grasp. But he’s quickly growing weak, his energy fading, and Danny’s holding back his own ectoplasm as tightly as he can. “They may have killed me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still take what I’m owed!”

“Dude, you’re dead. There’s nothing here for you. Move on.”

“You don’t get to speak on this, outsider. You think a freak like you has an say over us? You can’t stop us. You don’t even know what’s coming.”

Danny squints at him. “What, are you planning a heist or something? With your gang of dead people too weak to lift a piece of paper?”

“We’re not all dead. We’ve got living folk helping us and we’ll be taking you out first when we hit the streets.”

“Good luck with that,” Danny says flatly, “Begone with you.” 

Without giving Nueve a chance to say another word, he rips Nueve’s head off his body. His ghost wavers, then dissipates like smoke, fading away. 

Another side effect of whatever it is Gotham does to her dead: their ghost forms are remarkably fragile and it takes only a bit of strength to tear them to shreds, giving him some peace before they reform again. It won’t stop Nueve from striking out again, gathering enough strength until he’s able to possess some other unfortunate soul, but Danny’s bought himself some time to figure out what the hell was he talking about?

There are living folk involved with whatever he’s planning. It’s probably another gang, maybe someone with magic who is able to see ghosts? Which is not great. Danny doesn’t know much about magic; even when facing ghosts who used magic or magical artifacts, his go to method of dealing with them is to start throwing hands like there’s no tomorrow.

Well.

It’s a problem for later.

For now, Danny needs to get back to his apartment and work on his calculus homework. Hopefully he can finish it before he gets frustrated enough that he gives up and lies face down on the floor until Duke manhandles him onto the couch, where he’s less of a tripping hazard.

He’s just about to get back to street level when his Fenton Luck strikes again and he hears someone land on the roof, just a few feet behind him.

“Hey there, stranger,” the Signal says. “You know, we run into each other so often it feels rude not to introduce ourselves. Why don’t you go first?”

Danny turns to face the daylight vigilante, standing with his arms crossed as if that would make him look any more approachable. He’s been popping up wherever Danny’s out dealing with ghosts, which is very not great for Danny’s plans to have a peaceful, normal college life. 

Biting his tongue, Danny gives the Signal a quick two fingered salute, then goes intangible and drops down through the building. His invisibility sweeps over him and then he’s running through the streets, hoping it’s enough to keep the Signal from following him to his apartment.

He skids to a stop in the stairwell, dropping his intangibility just in time to crash into the wall. Panting, Danny waits for a tense minute to see if he’s been followed. 

When the door to the stairwell remains closed, he lets out a slow breath, then pulls off all the pieces of his Ghost Work Outfit, shoving it back into his bag. He takes a moment to fix his hair, messy from the hood, then shoves the bag back into the floor, safely hidden from curious eyes. 

Then he very casually walks up the stairs to the fifth floor and walks down the hallway to his apartment. His keys clang together when he opens the door, and Duke usually hears it when it does, but just in case, Danny calls out, “I’m back!”

He’s learned to announce himself after a few late night walks almost ended with him tackled to the floor when Duke thought someone was breaking in.

Duke doesn’t respond as he toes off his shoes. The stillness in the apartment feels off, as if the world is holding its breath. Cautiously, Danny walks in, trying to find his roommate.

He’s not in the kitchen. The living room is empty. Duke’s bedroom door is open and he’s not in there either. 

Something cold lodges itself in his chest. 

“Duke?” he tries again, looking over their apartment again for any sign of struggle, or something terrible happening, or even a mess that Duke needed more supplies to clean up. 

There’s nothing. The apartment is as it’s always been, just with an empty space where Duke should be.

Worried, Danny stands in the middle of the hallway, trying to figure out what he should do next. It’s because he’s standing so still, surrounded by silence, that he hears it: a light thud outside the window. 

Danny turns and he can swear he sees something large moving outside the window, disappearing from sight just as Danny takes a step into Duke’s room to check on it. He rushes to the window and pushes it open, looking down at the street, then side to side, and finally up to the last three floors of the building.

Nothing’s there.

Slowly, Danny pulls his head back inside, closing and locking the window. “Must be my imagination,” he says, trying to convince himself it’s not a big deal. 

He leaves Duke’s room and begins pacing down the hall, anxiety building steadily in him. 

His phones in his hand before he can think his actions through, Duke’s contact pulled up on the screen. He should call. He should make sure Duke is okay, but Danny hesitates. Is this something to be freaked out over? Would Duke thing he’s clingy and nervous and a bothersome roommate? He doesn’t want to risk Duke asking for a new roommate next year when the lease renews.

But he’s worried. It’s Gotham and Danny just dealt with a violent, murderous ghost threatening him. Duke can deal with a stressed out, worried Danny if it means he’s alive.

He hits the call button before he can talk himself out of it. It rings on and on and on until Danny starts to panic about having to find Duke’s ghost to avenge his murder. 

The front door is thrown open so suddenly and so loudly, Danny jumps and his phone clatters to the floor. 

“Danny! Hey!” Duke says with a bright smile, trying to catch his breath. He’s still holding onto the doorknob, slightly hunched over as he pants for breath. “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m totally fine.”

“Where were you?”

Duke straightens up and closes the door, kicking off his shoes. “Oh, just… out. Shopping. For dinner.”

Danny looks over his empty hands doubtfully. “No luck finding what you needed?”

“Nope!”

“What did you need? Maybe I can go to a different store and get it for you.”

“You don’t need to!” Duke says. “I just needed… tomatoes?”

Danny blinks at him. “We have tomatoes. Did you not know we had tomatoes in the fridge?”

“Oh, do we? Good to know.”

There’s something very weird about this conversation, but Danny doesn’t pry. Duke is weird sometimes, but it’s fine because he kindly ignores some of Danny’s oddities that come from being a halfa and a semi-retired hero. 

“Do you… maybe wanna sit down? Catch your breath? I can make dinner tonight if you want.”

Duke waves a hand in the air. “No, no, it’s fine. I got this. Anyways, how was your walk?”

He definitely shouldn’t talk about the cannibal ghost and his threats to take out Danny with his gang. “It was nice. Very quiet. You know, for Gotham.” He punctuates this with an awkward thumbs up and immediately regrets it, but it’s already done so he commits to it.

“Cool! Great. Just wondering, did you see anything weird?”

“Depends on what you’re asking about?”

“Just some guy wearing black with a hood covering his face. He’s been active in this neighborhood and I saw some people talk about him online. Apparently he just appears out of thin air.”

Danny tries not to wince. That’s him, alright. Gotham’s newest neighborhood menace. “I don’t think so, but there’s a lot of people in Gotham that were all black and walk around with their hood up.”

“True,” Duke concedes. “Well, just be careful when you go out, alright?”

“I always am.” He gives Duke the same two fingered salute he gave the Signal. Duke stares at him for a moment, eyes dark and almost dangerous, then he smiles and walks into the kitchen. 

“Wanna make dinner with me? I think we can figure out this recipe together. Unless you need to do your homework.”

“It can wait!” Danny hurries to join Duke, grateful for an excuse to push off calculus a little longer. He understands what he’s doing in the class, there’s just… so much work. He doesn’t even want to think about the tests. The tests make everyone cry.

“Alright, let’s get to it, then!”

“You’re in charge, chef,” Danny says, laughingly, and bumps against Duke’s side. He expects a light shove in return, something Sam and Tucker always did, but Duke goes tense instead, letting out a sharp breath that Danny is all too familiar with. “Wait, why are you hurt? What happened?!”

He goes to lift up Duke’s shirt to inspect his shirt, see the damage for himself, but Duke smoothly moves out of the way, grabbing Danny’s wrists and stopping him in his tracks. “I’m fine, Danny. I just got hit. Lightly. Minor bruising, really.”

Danny looks at him doubtfully, then wrenches a wrist free to lift up his shirt before he can move again.

Minor bruising is not how Danny would describe the blues and purples that decorate Duke’s entire side. He can see the outline of Duke’s ribs through the bruising. “How is this being lightly bruised? What hit you?”

“A car?”

“A car?!”

Duke winces, then pulls his shirt down. “I’m fine, Danny, really. It was just from a car that didn’t want to stop at a red light. I stopped another person from being hit, but the car got me pretty solidly. You know how bad Gotham drivers are.”

“Sit down!” Danny says, pulling Duke out of the kitchen. “I don’t understand how you’re still standing. I’ll get some ice, and I’ll handle dinner. You just stay there and stop pushing yourself for no reason.”

“Playing nurse for me now?”

“If I have to.”

“Would you wear a nurse costume for me, too?” Duke jokes.

Danny looks him dead in the eye and says, “If I have to. Would that make you follow my instructions? A tight little nurse dress?”

Duke sputters, cheeks darkening, and looks away. Danny grins, victorious, and darts back to the kitchen to grab an ice pack from the fridge. 

“Maybe I’ll wear one for you anyways, once you’re all healed up. Only if you’re good, though.”

“Danny, you’re killing me here.”

“Better me than a car.”

Duke laughs and takes the ice pack, pressing it against his side carefully. “Oh, for sure. Thanks, Danny.”

“Hey, what are roommates for?” Danny shares a warm smile with Duke, then pats his shoulder and heads back to the kitchen to start making a simple pasta dinner. 

Life in Gotham is weird and stressful and full of ghosts and heroes who won’t leave him alone. But it’s not all that bad, really. He’s happy with how he’s doing in college, and he’s beyond lucky to have Duke as a roommate. So long as Duke never finds out about his halfa status, then he’s sure they’ll be able to last all four years rooming together.

He just needs to keep a secret. 

Shouldn’t be too hard, right?

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #dpxdc fanfic #my writing #prompt fill #3.6k.... still counting this as short. i have not failed yet at my goal of keeping these fics below 5k!! #i love this prompt so much it even got me making ocs... i love making ocs this is such a treat for me #will 100% be revisiting this prompt in the future to turn into a longer fic bc i have SO MUCH to write for this #had to cut it off here to have just one scene that shows them as roommates w secrets #truly a struggle to keep this short. this could easily be 30k. the amount of identity shenanigans i can write.... #also playing around with the cursed gotham thing by making it affect ghosts :) perfect excuse to make my own gotham lore :) #btw duke 100% got injured chasing down criminals and thats how he got hit by a car. he wasnt fully lying abt it #he also tried to come in through the window of his bedroom. saw danny. quickly left and went up the stairs like a normal person #duke has his suspicions. danny is trying so hard to mind his business when duke acts strange and secretive #disaster in the making :) #thanks for the prompt!!

[devilfic]

GMMMMM!!!!! I was hoping you could write a battinson x reader about their wedding? Maybe something just super soft and fluffy, WE LACK BATTINSON WEDDING CONTENT

❝wedding headcanons with bruce wayne❞

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: fluff, established relationship, marriage, mention of alcohol. words: 2k.

oh ABSOLUTELY

alright, walk with me

I’m imagining that bruce is a bit older if he’s getting married because. let’s be honest. getting this man to settle down right now would be like wrangling a hellhound

not because he doesn’t fantasize about it. trust me, he has, but you really are in a polygamous relationship with gotham during your first few years together LMAO

I think bruce had an idea of what his wedding would be like when he was younger

probably a small, traditional wedding. something that his parents had

but at some point, when bruce becomes conscious of his position in society (and just how many people are gonna wanna come to this thing), he figures out it’s probably gonna be a big deal

bruce... does not like that

I don’t think that he has a problem with a big wedding, but he does know if he has one, he’s going to have to adhere to the social rules of the upper echelon

and that means inviting people he doesn’t particularly Like

again, he does not like that

but the thing abt these social rules is that if you tell him you’re not comfortable, if you tell him you don’t like someone, if you tell him you don’t want someone there, he won’t give a FUCK about their feelings

bruce does not care about the fanfare. this day is for you and him as far as he’s concerned

this is also why I think during the planning stage he’d be the kind of husband to just hand you his wallet and tell you to go ape shit

but he’s not that kind of guy. he isn’t some disinterested husband just pawning off all the hard work onto you because he doesn’t want to do anything

it’s like I said, he only cares about you

if you want to go great gatsby and throw the party of the year? go crazy!

if you want something on an island beach? he’ll bring sunglasses!

if you want to walk up to the courthouse, pay for your marriage license, and take him to bed right after? do you, babey. or him. in this case

I think the only thing bruce would have any strong feelings about is the color scheme

I’m sorry, you know he’s going to want a lot of dark, gothic elements

he will feel so out of place if you guys did anything outside of his color palette LMAO

he’s not afraid of getting fancy, he just needs things to be on Brand

that being said, I think he would really like if you had the wedding in a cathedral

I mean the acoustics with a choir singing as you walk down the aisle would just be heavenly

I’m just picturing the cathedral in the movie with white roses and ivy everywhere!! the sun streaming in through the windows!!! the choir on either side of the altar singing so beautifully while bruce watches you approach that he can’t help but start crying!!! ahhhhH!!!

I also saw a couple do this and thought it was really sweet

so instead of doing the whole not seeing each other before the wedding thing, the couple dressed each other the day of

just imagining the intimacy of slowly waking up the morning of the wedding in bed with bruce, letting him stroke your back as you lay on his chest

you’re both a little nervous but all that comes out in giggles and silly jokes to calm each other down

then taking a shower together, washing bruce’s hair for him, getting distracted because he starts kissing down your back and oh how time flies

sharing breakfast that you both made in your underwear because alfred took dick and left you two the house for the weekend because I’d also like to imagine that at this point, robin is part of the family

(and is enjoying his weekend with grandpa alfred. and definitely hasn’t learned any alarming offensive tactics since he’s been away)

bruce putting on a record and dancing with you in the living room to “practice” for later

helping each other into your clothes, brushing hair out of the way and reminding the other where they left their shoes/earrings/cologne

bruce driving you to the cathedral and only parting ways so that you can hurry in the back door because the front is PACKED with paparazzi

alfred is bruce’s best man and is just smug as a bastard when he notices bruce’s little ticks that he’s starting to get nervous

dick is the ringbearer because of COURSE he is

I just love the idea of little dick grayson whispering “I got your six, batman 😎” when he comes up to the altar and bruce has to cough over him because there are like. several people in the vicinity that do not! know that!

he’s got his hair gelled back to high heaven with a cute little suit on that he definitely wasn’t bribed to wear by alfred that morning

I also don’t think dressing you before the wedding diminishes the impact of seeing you walk down the aisle

I think that your morning together would only solidify just how many mornings you two would have from now on, and it would make him emotional knowing that this is just the beginning?? that he can actually call you his in a whole new way???

bruce’s vows... he’s so emotional about them.

he’s asked for help from literally everyone he knows, especially selina because she has such a way with words

vows are kinda tricky for bruce because to him, he wants to just be saying this to you. he doesn’t want to entertain anyone else

how is he supposed to summarize how deeply you move him—how eternally bound he is to you in body and soul—in a way that doesn’t feel like he’s putting on a show for the audience? he doesn’t care about any of that. all he cares about is you

he keeps falling into the trap of “they know how much I love them, don’t they?”

but one thing selina tells him to do is just try writing for you, then

just sit down and word vomit. even if it’s silly, even if you already know it, even if it’s embarrassing

and one night he finds you asleep in bed with a book on your chest, clearly having fallen asleep on accident with just the lamplight illuminating you

at first, he drops into the chair beside the bed and just sits and watches you for a few moments. your book rising and falling with every breath, your body half snuggled into the sheets, the little noises you make as you dream

but then his eyes start welling up and it’s like. all those words just come flowing out of him

he grabs his journal and is frantically writing everything down, not worried about making sense. he just wants to say what he’s thinking before it escapes him

maybe at some point, you wake up to find him furiously jotting everything down and you ask what he’s writing about

and he kinda panics because he doesn’t want you to see exactly what he’s writing

it’s all a mess! it’s ugly! not pretty or articulate or clean at all

and it’s not like he’s never a mess before you. you’ve seen every part of him: the good, the bad, the ugly. you’ve never turned away before

it’s just that sometimes... he hesitates

but before he can think of an excuse, you smile and slip out of bed

lean over him and kiss his forehead

“must be important, I’ll leave you to it. how ‘bout I make us something warm to drink?”

and the hesitation melts away

he doesn’t end up telling you. he closes his journal and tucks it on the nightstand and knows that you would never look, never break his trust like that, but if you saw what he said... he wouldn’t mind

when you come back, you two crawl into bed with warm tea and fall asleep together this time

I like to think that he once met up with selina on a rooftop so he could run his draft by her askjsdkjf

selina is a BRUTAL editor but she’s really good at it

and eventually she approves of his last draft and he’s like. yippee!! I’m free!! worst fucking experience of my life!!!

he’s fiiiiiine selina’s not that mean

but it was hard!!

and when you’re both at that altar and he admits his vows aren’t very long, it’s not a surprise to anyone that bruce “man of few words” wayne struggled with what to say

but that’s not it

because if they really knew bruce, they’d know that no matter how little he says, he means every word.

and there’s this one line that sort of encompasses a promise he’d made to himself long ago and now is making to you. out loud

“you’re a good thing that I don’t think I deserve, but I want to. so I am and will continue to make sure that I am a man that does. for the rest of our life.”

and all those years of never letting himself enjoy a good thing are unspoken between the two of you, your wedding a testament to his change of heart

it’s also just kind of cemented when he says “our life”. you really aren’t getting rid of him, now

NOW THE RECEPTION

I saw this on pinterest and I just. I think it would be so beautiful

a reception in a greenhouse!! surrounded by plants and candlelight!!

at night!!

this would be the more intimate gathering with just family and friends

if I may. be a Twihard for like TWO seconds

consider: flightless bird, american mouth for your first dance

I think it would be so nice... it’s a really pretty song.... ok moving on

I don’t think bruce would be very interested in. um. certain reception traditions but again, man will do whatever you ask him to

if you happen to be wearing garters and want to do a garter toss. I suppose he will participate.

right after sending out a signal that bricks every phone within a 200 mile radius

BUT TOASTS

man is all red in the face from laughing so hard, you’ve never seen him have this much fun with more than two people in the room

the toast is a lot less put together when it’s his turn, I think bruce is just so full of love and comfort being surrounded by people he knows well that he has an easier go of it

he doesn’t drink since he’s not a fan of alcohol, but you know he’s fuckin up a bottle of sparkling cider

if you choose to drink, he will be happy to escort you throughout the night

can see drunk you asking him to help you into a bathroom stall and he’s just standing there in the doorway making sure you don’t slip and fall into the toilet

at some point though, he WILL replace ur drinks with shirley temples

he’s not trying to cramp ur style but like. alfred will take a picture if you vomit and he will put it in the family photo album and show it every year on your anniversary and if you try to destroy it you will find he has made an infinite number of copies

by the end of the night, you’re both back at home helping each other out of your clothes in the same lazy way as you did the morning of the wedding

brushing your teeth together in the sink, washing each other’s faces, slipping into more comfortable clothes

by the time you both collapse into bed, bruce is so full of. love! and light. he’s still got a smile on his face that he’s had since the beginning of the night and it’s so different

you’ll crawl onto his chest and ask him if he’s happy, if he got everything he could have wanted out of today

he’ll press a kiss to your minty lips, still smiling like a fool, “I got to marry you, didn’t I?”

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @moonlightreader649 @geekyfer @thescarletfang

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne scenarios #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne headcanons #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne fluff #batman x reader #batman scenarios #batman imagine #batman headcanons #batman fic #batman fluff #the batman #battinson x reader #battinson #dc #mjwrites

[spidernuggets]

Hey, I've been reading your stuff for a while and I was wondering if I could request number 16 from the quote prompt list. Once again I think this will be great as usual <3

Jason Todd x Reader

Notes: HBOTitans!Jason Todd based while he was still Robin

"Why do you care? You could've just walked away"

You and Jason never got along really well. You hated his guts but at the same time, you didn't.

Ever since you joined the Titans, you and Jason began this extremely competitive rivalry. Who can knock the other one fastest during sparring. Who can come up with a better strategy. Christ, who can get to the bathroom the first in the morning.

You don't really know when this started. You knew Jason had a tendency to judge people before he got to know them. But you wanted to be his friend when you first met.

And you couldn't doubt that Jason was real attractive. Even when he was trying to one up you in everything, you couldn't help but admire how skilled he was.

Sure, you'd somehow show your appreciation to his abilities, but it's been over a year, and he still hates you. So you hate him, too. You don't know why he hates you. You didn't do anything wrong to him when you joined, but sometimes these things happen. And you told yourself not to let it get to you, but he can be so aggravating sometimes, and you hate that you don't truly hate him as much as he may hate you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Alright, and Jason and Y/N, you two will be paired together to scout the area for the wanted convicts." Dick demands during the current debriefing.

A mishap occurred in Gotham Prison, and a load of felons and criminals escaped, scurrying all over Gotham. Dick gathered a meeting with the other Titans to round up these convicts and return them to the prison.

"Hell no," Jason said. "Pair them with Rachel. I'll go with Gar or- or anyone!"

"Love ya too," you bite back sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

Dick sighs in annoyance. "Listen, the two of you need to get along. These are just a couple of convicts. You'll be fine. You'll improve with your training if you learn how to fight together without fighting each other! We're not switching pairs, and that's that." He says, walking out of the room before Jason could complain again, the other members following suit, leaving you and Jason remaining in the debriefing room.

"Hey. Stay out of my way, or I'll throw you in Gotham Prison with the other convicts," Jason threatens.

You threw your hands up in defence. "Ooh, so scary. Don't clip a wing out there, birdie," you snarl as Jason storms out.

You rolled your eyes. Not even an hour into patrol, and Jason ran off on his own.

"Holy shit," you whisper, looking at the dark, isolated streets below.

A group of criminals dressed in prison uniforms, about 12, were spread across the gloomy streets, drinking booze that the most likely have already stolen.

Suddenly, a fight breaks out. You squinted your eyes and saw a familiar red and green figure, kicking some of their asses.

"For crying out loud, is this guy allergic to a plan or something. One of them could literally pull out a flamethrower from out his ass." You complain to yourself, watching Jason in action.

You can hear his cocky voice in the back of your head tell you that you're overthinking this, followed by some pet name he always gives you.

Impressively, Jason seemed to have it under control. You wanted to either sit back and watch or simpmy walk away. But he's still one guy against twelve. And he's still your teammate.

"For fuck- UGH," you groaned, jumping after him, joining the fight.

"Late to the party, sweetheart," he says, earning a scoff from you.

Most convicts seemed inhumanly buff, others quite lanky, but still able to pack a punch.

Luckily, both you and Jason were well trained and already knocked out almost all of the men.

"I got seven down!" Jason remarks, panting as he punches out another guy. "Might wanna catch up, babe," he yells over to you.

"Would you shut up for 5 minutes, Robin!" You yell back, kicking the ass of another criminal, marking your 4th knockout. "You know, you don't have to be an asshole about everything!" You bark, turning to face him. "You're better than me, okay?! Is that what you wanted to hear? Well, there you go!"

Jason stood a distance from you, speechless. He joked around many times to make you say that he was better than you. But he didn't mean it. He always thought you were better than him. You were barely trained when you first joined, and yet you fought so well. He admitted to himself that you were badass and that he wanted to be as a fast of a learner as you.

You scanned around the area, out of breath after your quick rant. But then you pause. "Eleven," you whisper.

Jason looks up at you. "What?" He asks.

"Eleven. There's- There's eleven here. There were twelve convicts. Where's the last guy??" You say, beginning to panic.

Jason's eyes widen. "Behind you!" He screams. You swiftly turn, and you're met with a tall, very muscular and gruff man, charging towards you. He runs past you, heading towards Jason.

With his keen reflexes, Jason throws one of his Rs, aiming for the leg. It lands perfectly as the man screams in agony, falling over. Jason stabs another R blade into the other leg, proceeding to kick him in the face with his boot, knocking him out completely.

"Shit," Jason sighs, looking around at the scene. Before he was about to link in with the others through the comms, he notices you in the distance just standing there, your back facing him.

"S/n?" He calls out, but you don't reply. He sees your arms move in front of you, and his eyebrow raises in confusion.

Your arms fall limp to your sides, and in one hand, you hold a long, bloody knife.

"S/N!" Jason yells out, running towards you, holding onto you tightly before you could fall to the ground.

Jason stutters out a string of curses, trying to apply pressure to your wound. "You're- You're gonna be okay, Y/n... Okay? I- I already called Dick and the others, they'll be here, just- just stay awake! You can do that, yeah? You're so strong, just stay awake, please!" He begs, his clothes drenching in your blood.

"I.. I can't, Jay," you weakly whisper out, muffled by your painful whimpers. Your eyes started to get heavy, and all the noise began to fade. All you could hear were the other Titans running up to you and Jason's voice yelling at you to stay awake.

You thought you were dead. You felt dead. But your eyes open to a very bright light. You groan, blinking away the burning sensation in your eyes.

"Sweetheart? Shit, okay, you're okay," a voice says in relief.

As your vision unblurs, you can make out Jason's face hovering over yours.

You groan something to him, and he repeats a few confused "what? What did you say?"

"Jesus, take this thing off me," you repeat, referring to the oxygen mask on your face. Jason complies, removing the mask and gently rubbing your face, smoothing out the red dents that the mask left on your skin.

"Shit, how long was I out for?" You ask.

"Two days," Jason replies, sitting in the seat beside your bed.

"My everywhere hurts, and I can't feel anything at the same time," your voice was rasp, and your eyes were tired.

"I could've handled them myself, babe. What were you even thinking?" He said, slightly annoyed but didn't want to stress you in your current state.

"That you were my teammate, and that it was my job to help you," you weakly reply back.

Jason just stares back at you. "Why do you care? You could've just walked away."

You let out a dry laugh. "That was my initial thought. Look, I know you hate me, but at least give me some credit here."

He looks at you dumbfounded. "I don't... I don't hate you.." He admits.

You face slightly scrunches up. "What? I... Then why are you always trying to beat me in everything? I tried- I wanted to be your friend but- but you just..."

"You started it!" He childishly says back. "You kept showing off at how much better you were at fighting than me ever since you got here."

Your face softens. "I just... I just wanted to impress you," you quietly tell him. "I saw you sparring with Gar while you were blindfolded. You were so amazing, and- and I just wanted to be like you," you confessed. "I don't hate you either."

Jason's shoulders slumped. All this time, he thought you were trying to show that you were better than him. But you were trying to impress him? You were admiring him?

He understands the situation if Dick were in his place. Hell, everyone looked up and wanted to be like Dick. Never in his life has someone told him that they wanted to be like him. To be like Jason Todd.

Jason sighs. "I'm sorry, babe." He says, his head hanging low.

You lightly shook your head. "Nah, it's okay. But please, kill it with the pet names."

Jason laughs. "Why? Careful, sweetheart, you might make yourself look like you like like me," he teases, trying to get a reaction out of you.

But you only turn your head away from him, not answering. You thought this was a subtle reaction, but it got Jason raising his brows and leaning forward.

"Do you actually?" He asks genuinely.

You shook your head. "Forget about it. It was just a thing." You try to push away the topic.

He pauses. "Would it just be a thing if I said I felt the same?" He carefully asks.

Your head faces him, eyebrows knit together. "What-"

You're quickly interrupted as Jason stands from his chair, hovering over you and placing his lips against yours, one hand cradling your fave as the other holds him up above you.

You were too tired and weak to raise your hands to his neck, but strong enough to kiss him back, your lips perfectly synchronising with his.

I feel like i made that ending a little rushed, but the scenario was playing on repeat in my head and really wanted to add it in!!!

ALSO, it really makes my day knowing that you've been reading my stuff for a while, Anon!!! Hope u enjoyed your requested fic!!! 🙏🫶

#mickeysideas #jason todd #jason todd x gn!reader #jason todd x reader #red hood #jason todd x gender neutral reader #jason todd is my life #titans jason todd #red hood x reader #dc titans #i love jason todd #jason todd titans #jason todd headcanon #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x male reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x f!reader #jason todd ff #jason todd fluff #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #red hood x gender neutral reader #red hood x female reader #red hood x male reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #red hood fluff #red hood fic #red hood fanfiction

[writing-blog-iguess]

Online Matchup 7

Summery: It’s Jason’s first gala since he came back to Gotham. As expected, he’s n a little nervous. But don’t worry, you’re there to help him get through it.

Warning: fluff, swearing

Words: 4.2 k

A/N: So, here's the long awaited gala scene. Feedback is always welcome and Enjoy!

Taglist: @xoxoyourdoll @teapartydreams

ao3 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 8

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October 29

Jason (10:30 am) *sent a picture of the two of you cuddling on your couch*

Y/N When the fuck did you take that?

Jason Such language And so early in the day

Y/N First of all, you swear just as much as I do so shut And second of all, answer the question Jason

Jason But you know the answer We fell asleep on the couch last week

Y/N But we didn’t cuddle We were on the opposite sides of the couch!

Jason You’re right But somewhere in the night That happened

Y/N I do not remember that

Jason Because I got off the couch before you woke up Didn’t want you to be embarrassed

Y/N Sir, I call bullshit You love making me flustered

Jason That maybe so, but I needed the bathroom I tried to wake you up But man, you sleep like the dead

Y/N I’m very proud

Jason No kidding So, what are you up to today?

Y/N Homework, probably Clean the apartment Been slacking with that lately And with the party that’s happening on Tuesday, I need to make sure things are put away before they can break

Jason You don’t strike me as a party person

Y/N I am not My friend loves to throw Halloween parties And it’s usually at my place

Jason And you're okay with it?

Y/N We have a deal I let her throw it at my place She has to clean it up the day after

Jason But Halloween is on a Tuesday Don’t you guys have classes the next day?

Y/N Yup and she knows that I take great pleasure in seeing her clean while hungover She’s going to do a shit job cause she’ll be rushing But she wanted it on Halloween

Jason You’re a bit of a sadist aren’t you?

Y/N Only with my friends and they do that themselves I wanted to hold it yesterday But noooooo, it has to be on Halloween

Jason Your friends sound lovely

Y/N Don’t get me wrong They are but sometimes it feels like I have all the brain cells

Jason That’s hard to believe Sometimes I think you don’t have any

Y/N Wow WOW Guess you’re not invited to the party anymore

Jason That’s okay I probably couldn’t make it

Y/N Helping your brothers again?

Jason I plead the fifth

Y/N You ain’t slick I see you

Jason (3:40 am) Finished everything you wanted to get done today?

Y/N Cleaning, yes Homework, no

Jason How come you're always doing homework?

Y/N I don’t know if you’ve noticed But I’m in school And in order to pass and get my degree I need to hand in my assignments

Jason Lame

Y/N That’s just rude Why do you wanna know? Planning to have a sleepover again

Jason No Just curious

Y/N That’s a little sus babe

Jason I didn’t know we were up to pet names now

Y/N I retract the pet name If we started using pet names, I wouldn’t start with bade

Jason Looking forward to hearing what you’ll use

Y/N Mm, we’ll see

A series of knocking woke you up from your accidental nap. Blinking wearily, you tried to figure out what had woken you up.  The knocking started again, and you let your head lull in that direction. “Okay, okay. I’m coming, I’m coming,” you grumbled, as you slowly got off the couch. 

You pulled the blanket from the couch and wrapped it around your shoulders as you made your way to the door. Unlocking it, you pulled the door open and blinked at a very well-dressed Jason. 

“Was there a date we agreed to that I somehow forgot about?” you asked and moved out of the way when Jason let himself in. 

“What? No, why would you say that?” he asked, pacing around the living room. You closed the door and turned around, meekly gesturing to his outfit.  

“You’re in a tux.” 

“Huh?” he said and looked down. “Oh. Yeah no, this is for something else.” “Okay…? Can I help you with something then?” 

“So, there’s this gala tonight,” Jason said, going back to pacing, “and it’s the first one I’m attending. And Bruce has the idea of making a statement that I wasn’t actually dead.” 

“So, it’s the dead coming back to life thing,” you mused, “does Bruce have a story?” 

“Yup. He has everything planned but I-” 

“You’re not ready to be integrated back into society,” you finished and he merely nodded. “What me to come with? Act as your buffer?” That had stopped Jason’s pacing and he turned towards you in surprise. 

 “You’d do that?” he asked, shrugging. “You’ll be in front of cameras. You’ll meet my family for the first time.” 

“I know,” you said, hiding how nervous you were at the thought of meeting them for the time. “But you need help, and maybe someone in your corner.” 

“But you don’t know the full story.” 

“I don’t need it to help you.” 

“I could kiss you.” 

“I’ll count this as date two,” you said, smiling when he snorted. “What time do you need to be there?” 

Jason looked at his watch before answering. “Twenty minutes.”

“Give me ten.”

“There’s no way you’ll be ready in time,” Jason said, and you ignored him in favour of going to the bathroom. 

“We’ll see about that,” you muttered as you started the shower. 

Shower done, and hair dried, you wrapped a towel around you and quickly made your way to the bedroom. Jason had the decency of looking away when he saw you coming out of the bathroom.

If there was one thing about Jason, he was a gentleman and it was something you liked about him.

You closed the door behind you, and went through your closet until you found the dressing bag. Taking it out, you unzipped it, wanting to know if there was anything it needed before putting it on. To your relief, there wasn't.

Putting it on, you did one final check to make sure everything was good before going to the living room.

“Well, I stand corrected,” Jason said when he heard the bedroom door open. “That was less than-wow,” he breathed out when he looked up to see you standing there. “You look fantastic.”

Putting your hands behind your back, you swayed a little, looking a little shy. “You think so?”

“I know so,” he answered, giving you a smile. “Are you sure you want to do this? We can stay here and have a movie marathon. We don't have to.”

“Yeah, but you’ll be delaying the inevitable,” you said, making your way to him. Standing in front of him, you took his hands and squeezed. “I know you're not ready for it, and you probably never will. But I’ll be there with you the entire night. You just need to trust me that I will.”

Jason’s eyes softened and he cupped your face, thumb gently stroking your cheeks. “I do,” he whispered. You smiled and turned your head slightly and kissed his palm.

“Then let’s go make the best out of a shitty situation.”

The ride to the venue was a lot shorter than you had anticipated. But the drive was spent in silence as the both of you mentally prepared yourselves for the night.

You weren’t entirely sure what you were getting yourself into, but you planned to see this through.

Jason slowly made his way through the line and pulled the car in park when it was your turn to get out. Before you could reach for the handle, Jason’s hand tightened around yours, stopping you from moving.

Sitting back, you turned to Jason. “Everything okay?”

“Are you sure about this?” Jason asked, and your eyes softened. “I mean it, we can turn around and do something else.”

“I’m sure,” you said, leaning over slightly. “But if you're not ready, I’m sure Bruce would understand the situation.”

“It's not what I’m worried about,” he said, “the life of a Wayne can be pretty hectic. With being in the public, everyone’s eyes are on you. I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable when the media tries to find who you are. I…I don’t want you to leave because of them.”

“We’ll, it’s a good thing I don't care what people think,” you said, squeezing his hand. “I doubt they’ll follow you around. The tabloids are more interested in Bruce Wayne than they are of his kids. And when it’s focused on them, it’s usually at events like these or if they did something newsworthy.” You paused, biting your lip when you realized you might have gone too far. “Um, no offense.”

Jason laughed, shaking his head. “None taken. Ready?”

“Ready when you are,” you answered, squeezing his hand one more time. He gave it a kiss and told you to stay in the car for a moment. You watched as he left, and walked around the car only to open your door.

“My lady,” he teased, holding out his hand to you. You took it with a smile, and stepped out of the car, ignoring the shouts and the camera flashes.

“My good sir,” you teased back, linking your arm through his. Leaning over slightly to whisper in Jason’s ear, “do we need to stay for pictures?”

“No, we can just go in,” Jason answered and led the way. You tightened your grip on his arm as you followed and swallowed down your nerves. “Ready?”

“Never going to stop asking that tonight?” you asked, shooting him a teasing smile.

“When it comes to your well-being? Never.”

“My knight in shining armor.”

“I thought that would be Red Hood,” he questioned as the two of you walked through the doors. He laughed when you hit his chest, grumbling that you should have never told him about your little crush on the hero.

“Shut up,” you whined, though happy to see him in better spirits. “So, are there any rules I need to follow before I make a fool out of myself?”

“I don’t think you could ever make a fool out of yourself,” Jason said, looking around. As if he was looking for someone to avoid or to say hello to.

“Well, clearly you don’t know me very well,” you said, guiding him to the bar you spotted when walking in. “At some point or another, I can and will embarrass myself. If given the change.”

“Then I’ll make sure you don’t have a chance. What are you doing?” he asked when he noticed where he was. 

“Getting a drink,” you answered like it was obvious. You turned to the bartender about to order.

“Aren’t you a little young to be drinking?” Jason asked before you could. You sent him a pointed look, with a shake of your head.

“I’m like, a few months younger than you. What do you think? I’ll have water please,” you said to the bartender, shooting her a smile. She returned it and went to get your drink. “Make those two please?”

“Not a problem.”

“You’re so weird,” he stated, watching as you retrieved the glasses when they were set in front of you. He took the glass you were offering, and held it.

“Yet here we are,” you said, taking a sip. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Before you could reply to Jason, a voice called from behind you. The both of you turned and you hid your laugh behind your hand at the look Jason made.

“Well, that didn’t take long for them to find me,” he muttered, turning away as his brothers, well at least that’s who you think they were, walked towards you.

“It was bound to happen sooner or later,” you reminded him, holding his hand that wasn’t holding the cup. 

“Was hoping to spend a little more time with you before my idiot brothers found us,” Jason muttered into his cup. 

“Yeah, but you get to take me home when it’s all over and done with,” you reminded and took great pleasure in watching him get flustered. Clearing his throat, he took a sip from his cup before shooting you a dark look.

“Careful Little Bird, or you’re going to give a gentleman the wrong meaning,” he whispered. A shiver ran down your spine at the meaning and you quickly averted your gaze.

“Hey, Jason! So glad you made it,” one of his brothers said as they reached you. He patted Jason’s shoulder and he shrugged it off, frowning.

“It's not like Bruce gave me much of a choice,” he answered, “where is he anyways?”

“Taking care of last-minute details at work,” he answered, causing Jason to roll his eyes. You get the feeling they’re talking about something else. 

Minding your business, you take another sip, letting your gaze roam around the room. It only turned back when a hand was thrust in front of you.

You gazed at the hand and followed its path until you were met with the smiling brother. “Hello,” you greeted, hesitantly shaking the offered hand.

“Hi, who’s this Jay?” The brother asked. You squinted at him, recalling if you’ve ever met him before. You haven’t, but something about him seems familiar.

“My date,” he answered curtly. Letting go of your hand, you mourned the loss of contact until he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “Y/N, this is Dick.”

“Dick Grayson at your service,” he greeted, smiling widely at you.

“Hi,” you repeated, squinting at him slightly. “You're the cop brother out in Bludhaven.”

Dick eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Yeah, that’s me. I didn’t know Jason talks about me.”

“Not just you,” you corrected, “he talks about all of his siblings.” And made a noise when you felt Jason pinch your side.

“All good things I hope,” a different brother said, popping his head out from behind Dick. “Tim Drake.”

“No, he usually complains about the shit you’ve guys pulled,” you said, making them laugh. “You’re the asshole who gave Conner my number.”

“That would be me,” he said proudly, grinning. “How’d you find out?”

“My sister’s dating Conner and she got it out of him,” you explained, “I hope you know I’m getting my revenge.”

Tim narrowed his eyes at you, as if he was sizing you up. You only raised an eyebrow and met his stare. “I doubt it,” he finally said with a snort.

“I don’t think you know who you’re messing with,” Jason said, “don’t underestimate them.”

“Why? Because they’re dating you?”

“Sir, I don’t need anyone to fight my battles for me,” you interrupted, “I’m the oldest of four, majoring in engineering. But you already know that since you’ve been snooping in my life.”

“Not much of a life though, is it?” 

“Maybe, and that’s okay,” you said with a shrug. “Though before you write me off, ask Conner what happened during spirit week his freshman year.”

That made him nervous, like he knew what you meant. Smiling sweetly, you reached out and patted his head. “You don’t want to make an enemy out of me,” you said and turned to the shorter of the group.

“Demon spawn?” you questioned without thinking. There was a brief moment of silence before everyone but you and the youngest started laughing. He scowled and you downed your drink wishing that it was something stronger. You set it down and hide your face in your hands, groaning. “Oh no, please don’t tell me I actually said that.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Jason apologized, but he didn’t sound apologetic at all. 

“You aren’t that far off though,” Tim piped up. 

“I am so so sorry,” you said, voice sounding a bit muffled, “I didn’t mean to say that, I don’t know why that came out.”

“I have no doubt that Todd had any help with that,” he said, clearing his throat he crossed his arms and introduced himself. “It's Damian Wayne, the only son of Bruce Wayne.”

“Y/N,” you muttered out, finally dropping your hands from your face. “And probably. Every time Jason talks about you, he doesn't say your name.”

“Okay, don’t tell them all my secrets now,” Jason teased, squeezing you into his sides. 

“The night’s still young,” Dick said with a smile, “who knows what secrets they might spill.”

You turned to Jason, and poked his cheek until he turned to look at you. “Shoot me, if I say anything embarrassing about myself or you tonight, just shoot me. I’m okay with that,” you said with a serious face. 

“Sorry sweetie, no can do,” he said with a smile. “I like you too much to do that.” Hanging your head in defeat, you sighed.

“Damn,” you sighed, “guess I’ll suffer then.”

“That’s okay, I’ll suffer with you,” Jason said, leaning over and hiding his face in his hair. You could feel the smile that he was trying to hide. 

“At least that’s a plus,” you couldn’t help saying. That caused another round of laughter. You smiled; happy it was going better than what you expected. “I thought you had another brother, and like two sisters?”

“We do, they just couldn’t make it today,” Dick was quick to say. You raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. 

“I thought it was a mandatory thing for your family. Having to come to these fancy parties.”

“Sometimes, but when Bruce gives some of us a free pass when the need arises,” Jason explained. “But I’m sure if they knew you’d be here, they’d be here too,” Jason quickly added when you frowned.

“Man, I was really hoping to actually meet Stephanie,” you said, and shrugged. “Maybe next time.”

“There you all are,” a voice called from behind. You all turned to see Bruce standing behind Dick, smiling. “Ah, you must be Y/N I’ve heard so much about.” You doubted that for a minute, knowing Jason isn’t one to share things with his family. Then you looked at Tim and things started to make sense. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

You shook his head when he offered, and smiled at it. “Nice to meet you too Mr. Wayne.”

“I’d love to stay and chat, but I need Jason for a moment,” he said, turning to Jason, “are you ready?”

“Do we really need to do this?” he asked, and made a face when Bruce nodded. “Alright. Are you going to be okay for a while?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you reassured with a smile. “I’ll find you later.”

You were wrong, so very wrong. The minute Bruce and Jason left your hearing range, his brothers turned on you like vultures circling their next meal. You weren’t sure how long you stood there answering questions you didn’t know how to answer.

When you finally managed to escape, you took a breath and began your search for Jason. You found him talking with Bruce and a reporter. 

Quietly standing beside him, you grabbed his hand and ignored the conversation they were having. Jason squeaked your hand in acknowledgement, and you smiled, leaning your head on his arm.

After a moment, the reporter and Bruce excused themselves and Jason turned to you. “You doing okay?”

Taking back your hand, you moved it to cupped his cheeks and squished his cheeks together. Jason tried to smile, but it looked a little lopsided squished between your hands. “Never leave me alone with your brothers again.”

“It couldn’t have been that bad,” he muttered out with a laugh.

“They grilled me like I was a bad guy,” you said, “and I felt like it too. Jason, I am not the bad guy. I felt like one of those creeps that the heroes fight and needed information on something I couldn’t give them. I don’t want to feel like that again, had me questioning if I was right for you or not.”

“Not being overly dramatic?” Jason asked, and you squished his face more in retaliation. “Okay. I get it,” he said, grabbing your hands and moving them off his face. “That was wrong of them for making you feel like that. No one should go through what you just did.”

“Like I get, they’re your family and they want what’s best for you, you know? Like they care about you, and I get that Dick is looking out for you. But Tim? The dude told me I could do so much better than you and Damian? I’m pretty sure he said that you could do better than me? I don’t know, I stopped listening to them at a certain point.”

“Well, they shouldn’t have said that to begin with at all. And I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Jason said, you waved away his worry.

“No, no, you probably could. But that’s not the point, the point is they could be very good cops if they wanted to,” you said, “it felt like an interrogation. And I hope that I never have to do that again when I meet your sisters.”

“At this rate, I don’t think you will,” he said and you looked up at him in confusion. “Don’t worry about it. Come on, let's dance.”

“But I don’t know how to,” you said as Jason started pulling you to the dance floor.

“Don’t worry about it. All you have to do is follow my lead,” he said, twirling you around until you stood in front of him. You looked up, squinting at him. He laughed, guiding your hands to his shoulders before putting his hands on your waist. “Don’t look at me like that, I know how to dance.”

“Oh, I got that. I’m just surprised,” you said, doing as he said and following him as he started dancing.

“I’m full of surprises, Birdie.”

“So, how long do we have to stay here?” you asked after dancing in silence. Jason raised his eyebrows at you.

“You want to leave already? Feels like we just got here,” he countered. Shaking your head, you looked around before meeting his eyes.

“Don’t lie. I’m not sure how long we’ve been here but it has got to be an hour maybe,” you guessed, “and not yet. But I’m getting hungry and I haven’t found any food around. I thought they had food at these events.”

“They usually do,” he said, looking around to see if he could find any. “But it looks like they are either going to the kitchens to get some more, or there is none.”

“Man, that’s a shame. I’m starving.”

“I thought you ate earlier?”

“Nope. When you came over, I was taking a nap. I haven’t eaten since lunch, and even then, it was just a bag of chips,” you said. Jason sent you a disapproving look making you smile sheepishly. 

“You need to take better care of yourself. But we can leave whenever you’re ready.”

“I’ll leave when you’re ready too,” you said through a yawn. “Who knows? Maybe you have to do more interviews or speak to the crowd or something.”

“Nope, I’m done talking to people,” he explained, “all I have to do is stand beside Bruce when he’s giving the speech to everyone. After that we can leave.”

The two of you danced two move dances, before someone announced that Bruce had an announcement to make. You came to a stop, and you watched as Jason sighed. “Well, that’s my cue.”

“I’ll be standing front row where you could see me,” you reminded him, “I won’t be far.”

“You, Birdie are a godsend,” he said, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Careful there, Jason. Treat someone like that, they’re gonna think they’re really special to you,” you retorted, reaching up to pat his cheek gently.

“Maybe they already are,” he said and left, leaving you flustered. You covered your face with your hands and silently screamed. There was something about Jason that made you feel cared for, and you weren’t quite sure how to deal with.

Pushing away those feelings for now, you collected yourself and turned to make your way towards the growing crowd.

After a minute of politely pushing your way through the crowd, you found yourself standing beside Jason's brothers. Not one to be rude, you smiled hello to them and turned to the front where Jason was standing a little bit behind Bruce. You gave Jason a small wave, which he returned before Bruce started talking.

You tried to listen as Bruce told the story he had come up with, but your mind kept wandering to your relationship with Jason, and where it might lead to. The thought of the future was scary, but you couldn’t see a future without him. Maybe the two of you were going a little fast, but you found that you didn’t care as much as you should.

If he’s the one, why overthink it?

Soon enough, clapping brought you out of your thoughts. Shaking your head, you joined in the clapping and slipped away from his brothers before they decided to go for a round two.

“Wasn’t so bad, right?” you asked once you reached him. He shrugged and grabbed your hand before pulling you towards an exit.

“Would have been a lot better if you were standing with me,” he answered, “but yeah. It was okay. Now, ready for some burgers?”

“More than ready.” 

#jason todd gn!reader #jason todd x reader #my writing #online match up #reader insert #jason todd imagine #gender neutral reader #jason todd

[xpegasusuniverse]

“If Bruce Wayne really wanted to save Gotham, why doesn’t he just use his billions to make it a better place to live?”

Because every other billionaire in the city would just use their own wealth to undo any sort of good he’d do as Bruce Wayne just to live their own pockets.

Example:

Bruce: I’m going to create free housing for low-income families.

Landlords and Property Developers: The fuck you will!!!

Landlords and Property Developers: *throw money at city officials to change zoning laws*

City Officials: Unfortunately, Mr. Wayne, that would be highly illegal for, uh, reasons. Anyway, I need to get to a yacht party, have a nice day.

Bruce: …god fucking damn it.

#dc #dc comics #DCU #bruce wayne #batman #gotham

[igotanidea]

Bad day : Dick grayson x fem!reader

Summary: some days are just shitty for no particular reason.

Warning: swearing, apart from that fluff.

***

She had no idea what she had been expecting.

It was freaking Gotham.

Of course it had to rain all the time.

Like seriously, all the fucking time.

Any other day she would probably just let it slip, but not today.

This one particular October Monday turned out to be the nail to the coffin.

From the early morning everything was going uphill.

She woke up without Dick by her side which made her worried and like crying. (can’t blame the girl, her boyfriend was a vigilante for god’s sake!). and what was even worse was that radio silence on his part. Most probably he was on some super-secret undercover mission (damn his ass!)

Every other member of her team at work were absent for personal reason (shit, Y/N had enough of personal reasons to stay at home for a week and yet, she didn’t right?!).

Everyone wanted something from her all at once with the yesterday deadline which left her completely drained.

Her brain was definitely all over the place, disenabling her from any focus, her mind focusing on only one thing.

Getting home.

Grabbing a blanket.

And hiding from the whole world.

“Y/N…?” one of her co-workers from another department approached her carefully. Y/N was usually the energetic, positive type so the rumours about her mood switch spread like lighting.

“what?!” she snapped, her mixed up feelings finally finding a way to the surface. However, she quickly regretted it upon seeing her colleague terrified face. “God!” she half-groaned, half-squealed “I’m sorry…. I’m sorry….” She rubbed her forehead in frustration “I’m just having a really bad day… Didn’t mean to yell at you or anything.”

“It’s fine. We all have bad days.” The other girls said and Y/N couldn’t help but be grateful at her understanding. “Can I help you with something though, Y/N?”

“No..” she shook her head. “No, I just have to push through I guess. But thanks either way.”

The other girl just nodded and exited the room, closing the door tight leaving Y/N to deal with her hormones, anxiety and mixed up feelings.  

***

It felt like the hours at work stretched into minutes, every other one becoming more and more gruesome and Y/N hated it.

She literally, truly madly deeply hated it.

To add to it all, the second she left her work, some fucking stupid driver decided to drive the car straight into the giant puddle next to the pavement, causing a little fountain that splayed and wetted the poor girl. She barely held back from yelling at the man, but did not stop herself for sending a middle finger his way.

Half-depressed, cold, alone and drenched she dragged her ass into her apartment ready to cry her heart out while holding a pillow and drown her sorrows into her comfort food she had stacked in the kitchen cupboard.

Yes, she definitely felt like throwing a little pity party for one.

But.

There are multiple occasions in life when you just don’t know how you feel. And that was the case that one Monday.

When she opened the door to her apartment all the sorrow and sadness seemed to evaporate in a second replaced by something way more ….vivid.

“FUCK!” she yelled at the top of her lungs, throwing her bag on the floor and kicking her shoes, punching the wall and regretting it because of the immediate pain. “fuck! Fuck! Fuckety fucking fuck day!”

She threw her coat on the floor, not caring about it getting dirty or crumpled and headed straight toward kitchen to grab that little packet of cookies saved for the rainy day (literally).

“What the fuck now!?” she started rummaging through the cupboard but her little treat was nowhere to be found. “WHAT. THE. FUCK!?”

“Y/N……?”

“SHIT!!”

She jumped at the sound, not recognising that little, a bit scared voice coming from the side of the couch. Out of complete instinct she grabbed the fork from the drawer and aimed it at the potential opponent.

However, before she could truly attack the person with that makeshift weapon, the light went on and much to her surprise Y/N realised it was her boyfriend napping on her couch, an empty cookie box laying on the floor next to him, making it impossible to hide the hideous crime he committed.

“DID YOU EAT MY COOKIES?!”

“Y/n…… baby?” Dick stuttered, his eyes growing wide at his girl current state. He has never seen her this angry, like never and it was way more terrifying than all the Gotham villains combined together. And apparently he added to it, by not thinking she might actually want those snacks that were already outdated after all! “Princess?” he whispered, not sure whether he should hug her or run away from her. She was truly fury incorporated.

“AND WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN!? Do you have any fucking idea how worried and stressed I was?!”

“I got an idea……” Dick muttered

“DON’T YOU DARE TALKING BACK TO ME DICK GRAYSON!!”

“Y/N…. love…..” he gathered all the courage to take a few steps towards her, still keeping a safe distance from the fork.  “Are you on your period, or something baby? “ his voice was shaking a little bit knowing he was quite literally stepping on thin ice.

“Take another step and I’ll dig this fork into your arm! You fucking disappeared! No note, no text, nothing!”

“Honey……” he whispered carefully, not stopping “Do you need chocolate, cuddles, a hug?” another few steps forward and he noticed how drenched she was, how her makeup was flowing down her cheeks in a thick black streak and how tired and confused she was. “Come on, babe…..Just…. tell… me…” he slowly reached for her hand and gathered the fork, throwing it away and wrapping arms around her before she had enough time to escape him.

“LET GO OFF ME!!” she struggled against his grip.,

“no.” he said simply, holding her tighter to him

“I’m being serious!!”she cried out, tussling even more, even though she obviously had zero chances against him.

“so I am.”

“DICK!”

“Y/N.”

“LET GO!”

“No. You know I’ll never let go of you.”

“I….I…..!”

“Yes, baby?” one of his hand found a way to the back of her head caressing her hair and neck, the other resting on the small of her back repeating the same gesture there.

And that was enough to finally make her cry. She let out all those tears of frustration, fear, anger, sense of unfairness….. everything that’s been babbling inside her for the entire day for no particular reason.

“Shhhh…..” she rocked back and forth with her in a gentle, repetitive motion, being her rock, her strength, her protection “Shh…. Let it all out……”

“I hate this fucking city!!” she sobbed, clinging onto him, not caring about the fact she was making him wet as well. She just couldn’t anymore.

“I know, sunshine….” He agreed, kissing her dump hair.

“I fucking hate everyone!”

“Mhm…. Sure…..” he didn’t stop, grabbing her hand and putting it on her heart, unclenching her fingers

“I….I….. I…..” she stuttered and sniffled feeling his steady heartbeat that seemed to calm her down.

“Yes, love?” Dick asked putting one finger under her chin forcing her gaze up on him. “what is, sweet-pea?”

“I don’t know…..” she pouted in an adorable manner, looking at him, looking like a grumpy 5 year-old.

“You are adorable like that.” Dick smiled at her and he meant it. Yes, she was looking like a wet chicken, but she was his wet chicken. And even if so, that little outlook could not kill the shine of her eyes, the redness of her lips and her general cuteness. Her cheeks were a little flushed due to the cold, her nose making her look like a Rudolf, the reindeer and that smudges mascara  only added to that feeling forming in Dick’s heart and warming his insides. She needed him. His little babygirl needed his care, his protection, his affection. And he was more than happy to provide her with all the love and attention he could possibly muster. “Baby?” he asked with a huge smile.

“Hmmmmm…..” she muttered in a feigned annoyance, and Dick could not help but chuckle at her expression. “Stop laughing at me!”

“I’m sorry….” Dick leaned forward and kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose and then pecked her lips briefly making her whine and close her eyes. “God, I love you.” He planted another, a little longer and more passionate kiss on her soft, wet, warm mouth. “You make me crazy for you, even when you look like a taylor swift in blank space” he chuckles, cupping her cheek and rubbing through the black stains there.

“I knew you were a swiftie!” she laughed in some wicked sense of victory.

“Oh, now…. here’s that smile I love.” Dick leaned his forehead on hers and all of a sudden she felt so calm with his presence next to her. He truly was a golden boy.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you….” She whispered

“It’s ok love.”

“No… No it’s not…. I’m not like that normally……” she pulled back, desperately trying to explain herself. “I mean it, I’m sorry…. Shouldn’t have let out my frustration on you. You have enough on your plate.”

“What I have on my plate …. What takes the most space is my beautiful girlfriend with anger management issues.“

“HEY!” she cried out at his fairly offensive words .

“I’m not mad I swear.” Dick chuckled at her uproar

“Shut up and take my freaking apologies Grayson!” she grinned and tried to punch him, but he was quick enough to grab her fist, put it to her mouth and kiss every one of her knuckles and  his gaze fixed on her made her melt.   

“I love you, baby…..” he whispers, grabbing her waist and pulling her close, his hand traveling up and down her side in a calming, gentle, loving and caring motion.

“Just…..” she cuts off, all the negative replaced by sheer love and adoration of this unbelievable man, who gives her everything she may ask for, even is she herself doesn’t know what she needs at the moment.

“Let me take care of you…..” Dick murmured into her ear, brushing his nose over her hair, inhaling her scent, his breath on her skin making her almost dry out. “Let me help you out, baby……” his fingers brushed over her cheek and neck, moving to the top button of her shirt.

“D-d-dick…..”

“I don’t want you to get sick, darling…..” he smirked, still playing with that little piece of plastic making her whole body shiver.

“I-I…..”

“How about I run you a bath?” his voice was so hotly hoarse and deep that if he asked her to jump into the fire she would do it without hesitation. She was completely lost in him. In the way his hands were touching her, in the way his eyes were shining and scanning her with so many feelings, in the way he was making her legs shake.

“U-uh-uhuh…..” she whimpered.

“Good….”

***

 It took him five minutes to get rid of her clothes, fill the tub with warm (not hot!) water and pour her favourite foam bath inside.

“Come on, princess. Hop in.” he offered her a hand making sure she wouldn’t slip and fall. It was admirable how he was focused entirely on making her relax and not on the way her naked body was moving In front of him.

Such a gentleman.

He didn’t even get distracted by that little moan she let out involuntarily once the warmth spread all over her tensed muscled.

“Enjoying yourself, babe?” he smirked reaching for the loofah and slowly starting to move it around her back, making sure to work out all the knots.

“You have no idea…..” she whispered letting her tensed shoulders relax under his touch.

“I actually think I do…..” he flicked her hair away and kissed the back of her neck and her shoulder, making sure to not choke on the suds.  “All the best for my beautiful girl.”

“Dickie…..” she let out another soft whimper

“Yes….?”

“Will you wash my hair too?” she chuckled

“well I said everything, didn’t I?”

***

He even went as far as removing her makeup making sure to properly clean up all her skin, pecking her  cheeks and nose and forehead and eyelids, not stopping until a little blush crept up on her face and he saw that pretty bright smile once more.

Almost an hour later, after he thoroughly  dried her out with the big fluffy towel, kissing every inch of her skin in the process and dressed her up in jammies, she was sitting on her couch, tightly wrapped up in the warm soft blanket.

Feeling completely taken care of.

And with Dick serving as her pillow, because he refused to let her go anywhere from his embrace. Instead, he grabbed her by the waist, pulling her straight on top of him, his arms wrapping around her. At first his tight hold almost prevented her from breathing but once she started hyperventilating he let go.

Slightly.

“Feeling any better?”  he murmured against her freshly washed hair, smelling like lavender. “god, you do smell good. Might steal your shampoo from you….”

“Well I say you deserved it.” She chuckled, snuggling closer to him, her head resting on his chest. She sighs deeply and it’s the biggest reward for him. Seeing her content and relaxed instead of stressed and yelling at him in the middle of the room trying to poke his eye out with a cutlery. This was his girl… his pretty, perfect, happy babygirl.

“Love you….” He  breathed out kissing the top of her head, holding her closer once more and this time not getting any complaints. 

“Hey… Dick?”

‘Yeah, baby?”

“Thank you…. I know I’ve been a little bit mean today…..”

“a little?” he raised an eyebrow and grinned unable to stop himself.

“Grayson….” She said in a warning tone.

“You know I can’t stay mad at you and you’re just using that against me!” he exhaled dramatically making her laugh. “I’m glad I could be of help with fixing your bad day. Cause that was just it right? One bad day? You won’t be  throwing knives at me next time you’re angry?”

“can’t make any promises….” She kissed the top of his nose. “I’ll try my best though.”

“I can work with that…..”

And just like that they slowly started to drift off in each other’s arms while that stupid fucking calm  rain played a sleepy melody on the windowsill.

#dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson fluff #nightwing fluff #dick grayson x y/n #nightwing x y/n #nightwing x oc #dick grayson x oc #dick grayson x you #nightwing x you

[johannestevans]

i would love a batjokes concept with Joker pursuing Bruce that really digs into the fact that Bruce Wayne is way more of a false identity than Batman is

and the Joker is smart, just like Selina and other partners to get close to Bruce - he'd REALISE that and be fascinated by it

my favourite variations of Bruce Wayne are never the garbage grimdark ones where he's Really Serious and Broody, bc like. that's ridiculous (and too hetero). batman is really serious and broody. bruce wayne needs to be the opposite of that.

now some stories go for a bruce wayne that's just incredibly earnest, who's genuine and kind and full of love - and by definition HAS to either be misrepresenting himself, or is so naive that he never really hardens himself to the people who lie to his face

my FAVOURITE, though, is when bruce wayne goes HARD on being a himbo. he's a bright-eyed grinning playboy, he's a billionaire, he's kind in the thoughtless, easy way of a man who's so incredibly rich he can throw money at whomever and whatever cause he pleases

this is the bruce wayne who's always at parties and is always having fun and drinking, who dates all these beautiful models and he does funny videos playing with puppies for gotham's equivalent of buzzfeed and he uses the cutest filters on insta, he does stupid dances on tiktok

and the thing is, it's ALREADY fun if. it's known among certain of bruce's compatriots that this is false. bruce has glazed eyes during the board meeting but he's listening to every word; he looks pretty, so people invite him to important shit, and then bruce CAN be disarming

because in a city like gotham, of COURSE bruce wayne would pretend he's a beautiful himbo with nothing going on between his ears - it's the perfect defence mechanism. none of the corrupt cunts at the mayor's office will hurt him, bc they don't think he's a threat

and so bruce can pretend to just stumble into valuable philanthropy, he can work on certain fundraisers and similar, and he won't be targeted the same way his parents were

and that alone would FASCINATE joker

like once he got close enough to realise, to grok this - like, he's brushed this pretty billionaire off as some hot eyecandy, but WAIT, there's a BRAIN behind those baby blues? that sexy carved jaw and cleft chin isn't even as interesting as what he can SAY?

and just like… bruce having to juggle the fact that suddenly joker is stalking him and making a big show of making notes about his behaviours like he's birdwatching, but joker ISN'T being violent, and he's actually occupied, so bruce just-- lets him

it's the perfect cover, right? bruce wayne is already an act where he pretends to be something he's not, so why would anyone ever think that there's ANOTHER secret identity under that?

i was just reading a Batjokes fic that isn't delving that much into this, but there's a moment where Joker picks up the picture of Bruce's parents in his office and makes some comments, and Bruce snaps and grabs him by the throat

and FUCK but like. can u imagine a moment like that in a story like this, where Bruce Wayne is a little scared of Joker, but genuinely trying to be nice - probably thinks he can rehabilitate him, the sweet, pretty idiot - and Joker is filtering out where he's acting

he's gorgeous and he CAN read, he CAN do maths, he CAN play people against each other

but then bruce snaps and suddenly joker is bent back against a wall or shoved to the ground or over a desk, and he's staring up at him, AWED

because, o ho ho, Brucie. this doesn't match in either column - should I be adding a third one to my table, huh? Brucie the playboy, Bruce Wayne the businessman, and… who's THIS?

and. fuck. what is Bruce supposed to say?

especially because a story like bruce's is EXPLICITLY and CONTINUOUSLY about masking and being closeted, like. joker could get very excited over what this reveals which is a bruce that's NOT soft: it's a bruce that's gay and KINKY, which is why he likes joker in the first place

#batjokes #batman #joker #batman x joker #dc

[more-cardigan-than-woman]

Jealous!!Jason Todd x fem!!reader

The reader is dancing with someone else at the gala and Jason gets jealous. The reader knows she is doing it on purpose to make him jealous until he breaks.

Took me 3 times to write this. My stupid app kept closing and losing my draft. So enjoy.

Possessive: Roomates!Au Drabble.

WARNINGS. SMUT 18+, possessive attitude, collaring, car sex, jealousy, Jason gets rough, deg, praise, some poor guy gets thrown around, spanking.

"Jay, please come dance with me," you beg, both your hands clutching his huge one as you try to drag him from his seat.

"I said no, Princess." He snatches his hand back, "I'm gunna go get us some drinks, I'll be right back."

"Why'd he come then?" You ask, turning to Dick who's being uncharacteristically quiet.

"Don't look at me. You'll get me in trouble, too."

"You guys are no fun. This is suppose to be an after party. Emphasis on the PARTY. Will you dance with me?"

"I'm staying outa this one," Dick raises his hands.

"Ugh, fine. I'll find someone else then."

"You know thats a bad idea."

"Your face is a bad idea." You huff, spinning towards the flashing lights of the club and away from the quiet VIP section you guys are hiding out in.

You scan the room and your eyes land on a tall blonde guy. He's almost as big as Jason, his blonde curls falling just below his ears, his dark green Henley clinging to his biceps. You slink towards him, fluffing out your hair, pulling down your tight red mini dress and puckering your lips.

When you reach his side, you slip your arm through his. His baritone voice echoing through you as he peers down at you and asks, "can I help you?"

"Dance with me?"

"Alright," he smiles down at you, "see ya's in a bit fellas" he says to his friends as he leads you onto the dimly lit dance floor, "Mitchell," his voice nearly inauible over the music as you reach the dance floor, "who are you, Pretty girl?"

"I'm nobody," you smile coyly, leaving some distance between you as you start to move to the music.

"Something with a J would be my guess," he says, eyeing the delicate letter handing from the chain around your throat.

"What the fuck," Jason mutters, turning from the bar and spotting you immediately. Your beautiful legs swaying not far enough from Gothams star quater back. The fuck are you doing?

Leaning back into the bar, he watches as you toy with the man, always stepping just beyond his reach. The poor guy can't stop staring at you, and Jason can't blame him. You’re the sexiest girl in any room, as far as he's concerned.

You're laughing, surely he's not that funny. Jason groans, sipping on his whiskey, the glass nearly shattering in his hand when you turn, and he sees the man eyeing your ass

He's almost enjoying watching you move to the music. Almost. But when he sees that fucker slide his hand around your waist and how close his mouth is to the pretty marks he left on your neck, he sees red.

Downing the rest of his drink, he stomps towards you. Your eyes meeting over Mitchell's shoulder and he can see how panicked you are.

"Come on, pretty girl. Tell me what the J stands for?" Jason hears him ask.

"Jason," he growls, grabbing the him by the shoulder and pressing his arm into his back, "she's my girl."

"Sorry man, I didn't know."

"Really? Because I made it pretty fuckin obvious," his chin darts towards the now visable bruises on your neck.

"It wasn't his fault," you add.

"Oh, I know exactly who's fault it is." Jason glares at you, before pushing Mitchell back into the crowd on the dance floor and taking you by the wrist, "you've been a bad girl, Princess," he snarls as he drags you behind him.

"Where we going?"

"Apparently, I need to teach you a lesson." He hauls you from the club. His eerie silence lingering in the air has your blood pumping and you can't keep the smile from your face.

You can feel the jealousy seething from his pores, his hand so tight on your wrist as he throws you into the car door. His lips connecting with yours and his fingers close over your cheeks, "don't fuckin smirk at me you little slut," he growls, yanking the car door open "you think this is funny?" He pushes you inside locking the doors behind you, "You wanted my attention Princess and now you've got it." He snarls, as he crowds behind you.

"Ass out, Princess." He commands, pushing your chest into the back seat, "lift this tiny skirt up for me."

"Jay, it was just a bit of fun." You try to reason with him as you lift your skirt and reveal the little lace thong underneath.

"You know it isnt," his hand palms your ass, "someone couldve gotten hurt" his nails dig into your skin, "Now Count." He says, "five times, Princess. Maybe that'll remind you who owns you and this pretty pussy." His hand connects with your ass and you count every single one. Your pussy growing wetter and wetter with each and you legs barely bale to keep you up.

"Why'd you do that?" He says as he unclips his belt, "You know, how I get." He grabs you by the hair, "do you enjoy working me up?" He tears your panties in half, "is this a game to you?"

"It's fucking hot."

"Hot?" He slaps at your pussy, "fucking bitch. Maybe this will teach you," he snarls grabbing the back of your neck, "that if you act like a bitch," pushing your face down into the seat, "I'm going to fuck you like one." He shoves his cock into you with full force.

You smile to yourself as his cock burns you, stretching you out and filling you full until he's fully inside before jerking himself back out. His fucking rough and hard as his nails dig into your soft skin. "This what you wanted slut? To get me to treat you like the whore you are?" He scrapes his hand up your thigh leaving red marks in their wake as he leans over you. "Want to be my little slut huh? These marks not enough to tell you that you're mine?"

"No."

"The necklace I bought you?" He pulls on the delicate metal chain, making it go taught around your neck, "do I need to spell my whole name around your pretty throat?"

"Yes, fuck".

"Need to leave more marks on you?" He leans over you, his chest pressing into your back as he whispers on your neck, "leave them all over you?" He releases your necklace only to dig his nails into your hips, holding you up so he can fuck down into you. "No. Princess, no cumming. You have to wait for me." He demands as he bites into your skin.

"Fuck, Jason." You pant, pressing your ass upto him. "It hurts." The ache in your stomach twisting in knots at you try to keep from finishing.

"Keep saying it. Tell me who owns you."

"Jason."

"Who makes you feel this good?"

"You."

"Am I the only person who gets to see you like this?"

"Yes, please. Please let me cum."

"Prove that you're mine then."

"Yes. I will, Jay. I will"

"Cum on me Princess," he growls into your ear as his cock thrusts deep within you. "Mine." He moans, his cum filling you up as he fucks it deep inside you so you'll never be able to get rid of him.

"I'm sorry, Jay." You apologise as Jason rolls from you and pulls you onto his lap.

"Not yet. You got all night to make it up to me." He kisses as your cheeks while his hands sooth at your sore ass. "Think you can?"

"I know I can."

"Good girl." He smiles, laying you down on the back seat before crawling into the front and starting the car.

"Can we get ice cream?" You ask, laying your head on your hand as you stare out the window.

"No. You've not behaved."

"Lame."

"Shit."

"What?" You stick your head between the divide of the front seats. "What's wrong?"

"We forgot Dick"

Taglist:

@letmebebatmanpls @zadri @lovelyrissa @hopeannalea

@tild3ath @biggetywitch @shinysam29 @ilikw @gone-batty-fics

@princessbl0ss0m @deadpoolgirl23 @bubbles-incorrect-yb

@fallinallinmendes @hungryhungariann @comic-cat83

@gratefulstranger @pariahsparadise @escapism-r-us

@1800-get-alife @raging-trash-of-mind

@mysticalcomputerdetective @katdog111 @zbeez-outlet

@ayocee @megumisbabymomma @piscesbluee

#red hood x reader #jason todd #jason todd x reader #reader x jason todd #jason todd fanfic #x reader #red hood fanfic #reader x red hood #red hood #the red hood #And they were roommates

[quillsareswords]

I gotchu bestie

How about doing Damian's makeup for a Halloween event 👀 I can picture him wanting something cool like a skull

Omfg you're the best 😘

DAMIAN WAYNE X READER

WARNINGS: language, a kiss

MASTER LIST in BIO

"Will you hold still?"

"I am holding still. Your hands are shaking."

"They are not–" you suck in a deep breath. "You know what, just. Hang on."

You set the pallet of cheap face paint down on the edge of the sink a little harder than strictly necessary. With both hands now free, you grip his shoulders and steer him to lean against the counter.

He takes a deep breath to resteady himself while you pick the paint back up. He closes his eyes so you can fill in the big black sockets you've already drawn on in eyeliner. "What time is it?"

Your gaze cuts toward his phone, laying face up on the other side of the bathroom sink. "Seven-fifteen. All things considered, we're doing pretty good here." His eyelid twitches like he's about to open it right as you set the brush down, and you have to restrain yourself from snarling.

"You mean, considering we knew nothing of this party until three hours ago?" There's a tone there, squished between his vowels. Blame, irritation—something along those lines. "There were hardly any costumes left on the shelves. It's a wonder you found these." He plucks limply at the skeleton print hoodie and sweatpants set he's wearing. You're wearing an identical one.

"Well, it would have been much easier if–"

"If I'd listened to you and gotten costumes weeks ago, yes, yes, I know. You were right about someone deciding to throw a party last minute."

"I was going to say if somebody wouldn't have insisted we match, but yeah, that too." You chuckle, setting your pinky finger on the bridge of his nose to steady your hand a little better. "But go ahead, keep telling me how right I was."

He cracks open the eye you aren't painting and clicks his tongue. "Firstly, it will be easier to find one another this way. Don't even pretend you aren't enjoying it. Secondly, that's the only time you'll hear it tonight."

You roll your eyes as you go back for more pigment. "Right, because I'm definitely not right about the fact that we should have bought Halloween candy last week. I'm sure the stores will have plenty."

"We won't be here to hand it out on Halloween, anyway, Beloved. We'll be at Father's, remember?"

You switch to his other eye with a moment of warning. "Don't open your other eye until the paint's dry. Yeah I know we won't be able to hand it out. It would be for us, stupid."

He scrunches his nose, creasing some sti-drying paint, and you have to resist the urge to accidentally stab him in the eye. Guess you're gonna have to rinse the brush to change colors again. "You don't think Father will have plenty?"

"I'm sure he will, at his house. I was going to hold you hostage and make you eat it all with me while we binged all of the Time Burton classics, but fine. Whatever. Guess you just don't love me." You turn to set the paint down and reach for a wash cloth to start fixing his nose.

Instead, he plants his hands on your hips and turns you back toward him. He manages to catch you off-guard when he presses his lips against yours. He must be in terribly good spirits, because he's smiling when he pulls away. "Darling, if that's a it takes, I'll rob every child in Gotham to present you with a hoard if candy any king would be jealous of. We'll be so sick by the end of it, neither of us will be able to work the next day."

You tilt your head, gazing gently at him. There's a beat, soft silence drifting through your friend's second bathroom, and he hopes you're swooning on the inside, but then, "That was really sweet, and I love you more than I think I'll ever be able to describe. But you just completely fucked up both of our makeup and I think I'm going to kill you."

#damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne blurb #quillshalloweencollection

[butwhyduh]

Hello! I absolutely adore your stories! ❤️💖 I was hoping you could write a funny batsis (who is the biological daughter of Batman and is between Dick and Jason in age) story about her getting caught in one morning (or whenever) doing some "bedsheet sparring" with like Conner Kent or someone with powers that shouldn't be in gotham without Batman's permission (lol) and her entire family are who catch her because it's her birthday or something and they came in to surprise her with breakfast! I think it would be hilarious!

Warning cuz it has smut lol

Batsis x Kon kent

Conner pulled you on his lap, setting the pace faster than your hips wanted to go, pulling a moan from your lips. He quickly swallowed it in a rough kiss. He could feel the way you were clenching tight around him, 4th time that night (technically morning) to be exact, that you were going cum soon.

“Oh Kon!” You whimpered while throwing your head back and clenching him tightly. Conner groaned and thrust up to find his own high. You rocked together in pleasure. He could hear your heart pounding in your chest and feel the sheen on sweat on your body that this was the last round. You were only human after all.

A loud rapping at the front door made you jump. You looked at Conner confused. Who was at your door at 6 in the morning? You grabbed your robe as you climbed off Conner.

Conner used his x Ray vision to look thru the door, “babe, that’s your-“

“My baby sister’s birthday!” Called Dick thru the door. “Open up!”

You froze and looked at Conner who was clearly debouched and oozing sex from every pore and you knew you didn’t look much better. You tried to smooth your hair down and you grabbed a wet paper towel to wipe at the streaked makeup from the night before that you’d been too busy to remove. You hadn’t gone to bed yet.

You and Conner had gone partying and hadn’t gotten home until past 2 am and you both had gone to bed but certainly not to sleep.

“Answer the door! I know you hear me!” Dick called.

“Maybe she doesn’t want her brothers to bother her,” Jason replied. Fuck, both of them??

“Maybe she was actually out partying all night and is dead asleep right now,” Tim added. That was when you knew that Conner was going to die that day. Your birthday. The windows on the small apartment were all on one side that were visible from the front door so no flying away.

He was hastily throwing on his pants and shirt before moving to your bedroom closet. You pulled it close while calling to your brothers, “just a minute!”

A final look in the mirror caused you to blanch at the sight of a fresh hickey on your collarbone that you hurried to cover with your robe. There was no way that wasn’t going to be visible today. Your heart pounded like you were tracking killer Croc when you opened the door.

Dick, Jason, and Tim were standing there with balloons, a box from a bakery, and a present bag.

“Hi,” you said. You suddenly realized how much water you needed. You were just lucky to not pull something with everything Conner had done to you.

“Woah sleep head,” Jason teased while handing you the cupcake box as he walked in. Dick and Tim followed.

“Well it is a little early,” you admitted. “Wha-what brings you here? Now?”

“We wanted to tell you happy birthday first,” Dick said and you huffed out a laugh with a nod.

“Right,” you said. “And you figured the crack of dawn was a good idea because…”

“Tim couldn’t sleep and you didn’t reply to his meme so we came down,” Jason finally answered.

“Seriously? You do know I’m a big girl that can take care of myself, right?” You replied with a huff. You sat on the arm of the couch as exhaustion finally hit. It made sense. You’d been up 27 hours straight, danced at clubs for hours, and then bed acrobats for half the night with your literal superhuman boyfriend. And when was the last time you had anything to drink.

“We know but it’s nice to see you without the whole family,” Dick added.

“Without Damian, bruce, and Alfred you mean?” You said.

“Maybe,” Tim shrugged. “Are you hungry? We can go get food? A waffle house?” He suggested. It did sound good but so did spooning with your boyfriend until midday.

“I don’t know. I’m a little tired,” you said and that was a hell of an understatement.

“We’re all tired. Get dressed. Get waffles. And then take a nap before Bruce’s party,” Jason said, tossing you your bag. You caught it but your robe dipped down your shoulder.

“What the hell?” Dick said. They all stared at the mark clearly visible before you yanked it up your shoulder.

“Who did that? Is that why you’re tired? Did we interrupt a booty call?” Jason asked.

“Ew, booty call?” Tim said to Jason who pointed at you and shrugged.

“No! No one did anything. It’s none of your business,” you stammered.

“Is he or she going to the party tonight?” Dick asked. “Are they in here?”

Your eyes widened involuntarily. “That’s none of your-“

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Jason called as he and Tim started looking over the apartment.

“Stop them,” you begged Dick.

“They’re really here now? This whole time?” Dick asked.

“Jason, don’t!” You called as he went in your bedroom. Tim followed him and you ran after them. “Don’t!” You gasped just as he opened the closet door to show Conner Kent standing beside your shirts. His shirt was on backwards and he definitely looked like he recently had sex.

“You?” Jason said roughly with clear shock. Dick blinked and froze.

“Wow,” Tim added. “You’re gonna die today.”

“Stop it,” you said pushing Jason from the closet. He moved with your shove but he wasn’t the one you should have watched. Dick shoved Conner in the closet and punched him in his face before you could act.

“Dick!” You gasped in shock. Dick groaned and shook his hand but to his credit, Conner rubbed his lip where he was hit too.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Dick replied angrily to you. He stormed out of the room.

“Hey!” You called after him. You turned to Tim and Jason. “I don’t even know why he’s mad. I’m an adult.”

“That’s just being a big brother,” Jason said patting you on the shoulder. “Come on Tim. We’ll see her tonight. Happy birthday.”

“Jason!”

“Bye,” Tim said with a little wave before both left.

“Kon,” you said, looking up at him feeling lost. He simply pulled you into a hug.

“Let’s take a nap and we’ll fix it when they aren’t as mad,” he suggested. You let him pull you to bed where you hugged him tight. He ran his hands along your back before you finally fell asleep.

You woke a few hours later with a strong arm wrapped around you and you could feel your body hot and sweaty. Your robe was still on. The events of the night flooded back in your memory. You groaned and leaned into Conner who hugged you and kissed your temple, half asleep.

“Morning,” he said in a sexy husky morning voice.

“Morning. I can’t go to this thing today. I’ll cancel dinner and say I’m sick,” you said. Conner sighed.

“And hurt Bruce’s feelings that his little girl doesn’t want him around on her birthday?”

“Crap. What do I do?”

“If I could suggest,” he said, sitting up on his elbows as you still laid on his chest. “Bring me as your date. You didn’t introduce me because of your brothers, right? Now that isn’t a problem anymore.”

“That’s…. A good idea, actually,” you said after a second.

“That would sound insulting if I didn’t know you,” he muttered as you hurried out of bed.

“Bring you as my date and then Dick can’t get mad because you’re my boyfriend, not some random guy. We won’t have to sneak around anymore; even though that’s fun. Dad never needs to know any details because the boys telling him would just be weird. Conner,” you said, cupping his face. “You’re a genius!” You kissed him with a grin.

“And yet, I feel like a pawn,” he muttered as you tossed him a dress shirt.

“We need a shower,” you said, ignoring his commentary.

“Together? I’m interested in that,” he replied causing you to roll your eyes.

“We were ‘together’ all night. As long as the shower doesn’t lead to anything else then fine,” you replied.

“I mean, I also just enjoy seeing you naked so there’s that,” he said with a shrug.

———————————

The dinner was far from small. Your birthday party was a great event to invite Wayne Enterprise investors and frequent private donors to your favorite charities. Bruce had decorated the ballroom in your favorite color and theme. It was beautiful and full of people in fancy dress.

Conner adjusted his tie. “Shouldn’t have worn this stupid tie. That guy isn’t wearing one,” he motioned towards a man in the crowd. Jason had already flipped Conner off from across the crowd and Dick ‘accidentally’ knocked his drink from his hand with his own bandaged hand.

“He’s publicity. Not a guest,” you said quietly with an eye roll while straightening the tie. “And you want to make a good impression to my father.”

“I’m already preparing to get my ass beat by Batman,” Conner muttered under his breath.

“No. It’ll be Bruce Wayne and if you don’t take the hit and break his hand, then Batman will beat your ass later,” you replied. “But none of that will happen if you act like a polite journalist from Kansas.”

“I have many reason to hate that cover but it’s fine for now. Oh god, here he comes,” Conner said, standing straight as Bruce walked thru the crowd.

“Sweetheart,” Bruce said warmly, giving you a hug. “Kent,” he added, looking at Conner suspiciously over your shoulder.

“Hi Mr Wayne,” Conner replied. Bruce glared at him.

“Why is he here?”

“Dad,” you chided. “Conner is here as my.. date,” you said with a nervous smile. You watched Bruce Wayne go thru every emotion a man could have in 30 seconds.

“I see,” Bruce replied coldly. Your heart froze.

Conner looked between you both.

“Kent. You better treat her well or I’ll put a boot so far up your ass, you’ll taste kryptonite,” Bruce said calmly before walking away to talk to another guest.

“I’m gonna die,” Conner whimpered. “I had to date Batman’s daughter and now I’m gonna die.”

#friday night smut #conner kent x reader #Superboy x reader #superboy smut #Conner kent smut #dc smut #batboy brothers

[harleyification]

I've been in a Batfamily mood again, and now I wanna remake my Moon Knight x Batman crossover AU cause it has been rotting my brain since November and THIS was the only thing I have ever made for it, asjdksajdkla

(Based off of this post)

Some details, to let my Brainrot Out:

Listen, I know we all love adding our favorite characters into the Batfamily because that group ABSOLUTELY needs more trouble and unhinged behavior, but like. This isn't just adding another kid into the family. This is adding Marc, Steven, AND Jake.

Why does every crossover character have to be the youngest addition?? Why Not the OLDEST addition?? Revoke that Eldest Child License from Dick, imagine THIS: Marc would be around three years older than Dick, and while he would be Bruce's second ward, he would throw that shit around like the law. "Well, I'm older, so I get to pick the first character for Mario Party, and screw YOU, *I'M* choosing Peach!" type behavior

Dick: "Well, Bruce adopted me first so I was here before you, I get to play Peach!!"

Bruce is having a hard time figuring out how to go about this

Marc/Steve/Jake all adore Dick and would die for him. Killing is off of the table, unfortunately.

Everyone is supportive of Steven and Jake, treating Marc’s alters with respect! I love the idea of Bruce or Alfred giving them a journal so that they can keep up with which alter did what that day, and Dick giving them different colored bracelets so that they can tell which alter is fronting at the moment. The three of them actually having parental and sibling support, can I get a HELL YEAH!!

Marc/Steven/Jake being adopted by billionaire Bruce Wayne after running away from home and not having any upfront memories of how he got to Gotham, but knowing that he doesn’t want to go back to his abusive mom and his negligent dad. Emergency Custody is a hell of a drug!

I have no idea how stuff goes down until Jason gets taken in, so consider this instead: Jake and Jason arguing about the morality of killing. Steven and Jason reading together. Marc and Jason doing competitive training. Think about it. Let the thoughts infest you.

Marc and Jake: "I'm not doing free babysitting!"

Steven: "I will, though!"

Steven and Alfred bonding while cooking and Steve is infodumping about his current research project, doN'T TOUCH ME

Cass joins the family early too, because I say so. And Cass wouldn't need the bracelets to see who is fronting in that moment, she would KNOW, and she will either: pester Marc, love on Steven, or pester Jake.

Cass would adore Steven.

We don't talk about the big explosive Elephant in the Room just yet, nope, so instead consider this: Tim coming in and realizing that Moon Knight really is just Like That. Marc would say, "Another one?? Really??" Steve would say "This one is smart and adds onto my research and just spoke to me for 8 hours straight about arthropods, I have found my new real brother", Jake would say "He's a little stalking freak, I like him already"

Jake and Damian is a brotherly match made in hell. Watch the fuck out.

Just. Just Listen to me...just listen...why wouldn’t a morally grey vigilante by the name of Moon Knight NOT fit the bat motif???

Also, Marc/Steve/Jake would get the Moon Knight powers either as a meta-human with a connection to the Egyptian god, Avatars being able to be chosen at birth, or getting them super early through weird means! I think it'd be neat!

Thank you for listening, I hope I gave you Moon Son brainrot

#Marc Spector #jake lockley #steven grant #Moon Knight #dick grayson #Robin #Eldest Son Moon Knight is something that I actually CRAVE #FUCK #I NEED IT #batfamily #batman #Listen I have only seen fics with Marc x Bruce and like #Valid but also consider this: Moon Son Shenanigans #If people can add Danny or Billy into the Bats then I should be able to add the biggest blorbo of them all #Moon Son Propaganda #my art