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#Jason didn't realize either
brucewaynehater101 · 6 days
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HI? I need help finding fics or prompts about this one Tim angst concept that I read somewhere but I don't remember if it was a fic or a post. You could also add onto the idea yourself if ur willing! Preferably I need help finding a fic tho-
ANYWAYS
It's basically "Tim doesn't like reading books because whenever Bruce saw him read a book he would get mad because it reminds him of Jason."
I remember something about Tim being banned from the manor library too, but that's all I remember.
If you do help me, I owe you my life because this has been on my mind for WEEKS-
Hi!!! 👋 Not a fic (that I'm aware of). Here's the post, though:
Fantastic premise that Tim hates reading, though. That, or he refuses to admit/do it publicly.
Here's the AU set up:
Tim loves reading (it was a way to occupy/busy himself when no one else was around)
He prefers sci-fi, fantasy, and crime novels
His parents preferred him to read classics and non-fiction
Tim, trying to feel Bruce out and discern what's allowed, resorts to his parents' preferred reading list
Bruce walks into Jason's library to find Tim reading a classic (Maybe The Picture of Dorian Gray or Wuthering Heights or whatever)
Bruce promptly freaks the fuck out
Tim, as a fourteen year old not yet proficient at reading Bruce (and doesn't have the background data yet of what civilian Jason was like), internalized the lesson that Bruce doesn't want Tim reading at all
Tim avoids any libraries when Bruce is around
To the Waynes and the Bats, Tim only reads technical books or ones related to the mission
When Jason starts getting along with the Bats, he teases Tim on his reading habits (maybe a comment or two about how Tim, a rich kid, should be well-versed with the classics). Tim brushes it off good-naturedly.
Jason also invites Tim up to Jason's library and is a little bit hurt when Tim refuses. Jason rationalizes it and doesn't blame Tim, but it was an olive branch by the older one
Jason finds Tim reading a sci-fi novel which prompts Tim into panicking
Then a reveal or whatnot. Anyways, fun concept ^^
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skelebab · 3 months
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Wow, lil guy be upon yee.
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flamingpudding · 3 months
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Jail Buddies
Once a month, Jason makes an effort to meet Dick on purpose. Sometimes even more. After all, he was a good little brother checking in with his brother. Though he had a rather uncontroversial way of doing so. One that involved getting led into a jail cell of your local police department and loudly demanding to speak to Officer Grayson.
Okay, maybe it wasn't like that it was an effort to check on his brother and just one of his many listed dumb moments of recklessness he got caught for. And he was maybe using his brother to get out without having to call Cass, Steph, Duke, Tim, Damian, Alfred or Bruce, in that order depending who was willing to bail him out every time Dick had his 'Little Wing you won't learn if I keep bailing you out.'-Phases again. Or if Dick was being petty because of a recent prank war.
Either way, while Jason was waiting for Dick to make his entrance in his cell he noticed the teen boy sharing the cell with him staring at him wide eyed. He arched an eyebrow, and decided on a whim to make friendly conversation.
"So what got you here kid?"
The teen blinked as if just realizing Jason had addressed him before grinning a bit feral, his blue eyes having an unnatural glow. "Vandalism."
Jason's eyebrow rose again, but the teen continued.
"Trashed mu place and gave my guardian's car a pretty paint job and some other stuff."
"You vandalized your own place? And got arrested."
"Fruitloop decided an overnight stay was a better punishment then leaving me unattended."
The teen shrugged and Jason couldn't help but feel like he just had heard a red flag. He opened his mouth to question the kid more but than his brother finally made his entrance.
"Little Wing! What did you do this time!?" Jason could see that Dick was out to start a rant but changed tunes when he noticed the teen.
"Danny or Dan? You are here again? When did they bring you in? Trouble at home?" Dick asked, and Jason clearly saw the telltale signs of information fishing bat style.
"Danny and the usual." Danny, as Jason now learned the kid's name was, shrugged nonchalantly like this wasn't the first time he and Dick had had that exchange.
"Seriously buddy? I had a rebellious phase as teen too but to regularly trash your home to the point that someone calls the police or vandalize your guardian's cars, buildings, advertisements or anything that has to do with him is not a solution kid." Jason arched an eyebrow at Dicks tone, feeling slightly reminded of whenever Dick lectured one of them.
"Oh I know. But it's a nice stress reliever, plus you guys are nice here. I get pizza as dinner whenever I stay the night." The kid grinned and Jason couldn't help the snort that earned him a little glare from Dick.
Instead of arguing further his brother let out a suffering sigh and let Jason out of the cell, waving him towards the exit and following him shortly after giving the kid one more look that looked like a mix between stern and pleading to stop being a rebellious teen.
Once out of earshot, Jason then chose to ask. "So what's the kid's deal?"
"Nothing, just a rebellious teen reminds me of Damian when he first appeared. He has a twin and a little sister as far as I know, both of them also known here. Their guardian is an upstanding man, though." Jason heard the hidden but.
"Did someone look into it?" He hummed more as a cover.
"Higher ups don't know, but i am running an investigation." Translation Bruce is unaware, but Dick was using Bat resources for looking into the kid's residence.
"Nice kid, didn't think he was a regular." He only commented.
"Nice and polite, you wouldn't think he did some of the things he was brought in for. Distrustful though, despite his friendly nature."
Jason nodded as Dick went through the papers to bail him out, a thought popping up in his head. Clearly, something was up with the kid that had his brother worried, and it looked like he was stuck on just doing his investigation. So, being the thoughtful little brother he was, Jason decided to help his brother.
In his uncontroversial ways, of course.
"Yo Danny, also here?" Jason grinned as he was led into the same cell the teen was in a week later.
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thebibliosphere · 3 months
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I was just playing gotham knights again and noticed some passive dialog regarding Babs having a back brace, which is at least acknowledging that there was damage done, but I'm a little sad for the loss of some really cool disability representation. What are your feelings on her (and on a similar note Batman's) miraculous recovery from paralysis in DC?
I think Gotham Knights handled her disability fairly well, considering this is a universe where magic, nanobots, and puddles of evil green goo that can heal the dead exist. All things considered, it would have been very easy for them to either erase it entirely or just handwave and say, "She worked really hard and got better," as previous iterations of the canon have done.
Because she did work hard and get better, but the hard work is ongoing because they depict her issues as chronic.
She's got a limp (it's the most obvious in her Talon suit with no cape in the way), which means she can't rely on speed or high kicks like the others can (I mean, she can kick, but it's her slowest motion, and until you max out her suit, it's the most liable to get her thrown to the ground), so she falls back on precision and her tech.
Jason punches for maximum pain, Dick moves with dizzying speed, and Tim's gonna sneak up on you and drop you like a rock, but Babs is going for the pressure points with ruthless precision. Not to mention her drones.
The conversation with Tim, realizing she might need help boosting her suit to compensate for her pain/strength issues, is a nice little way of making the player aware that she's got these ongoing problems because, honestly, a casual observer could mistake her back brace for athleisure wear if they didn't recognize the shape of it. It's also a good way of throwing in some exposition about how she's still going to physical rehab and that her PT would like her to "wean off" her back brace, but because her PT doesn't know her actual job as a vigilante, Barbara admits she can't and is essentially finding ways to manage her own care and create her own accommodations. Accommodations which they are all shown to be willing to help with.
It's a nice little touch when superhero narratives tend to revolve around self-sacrifice to the point of self-destruction. Alfred giving Dick into trouble for pushing himself too far and hiding injuries is a nice touch, too, even if it's like trying to bail water on the Titanic with a teacup.
I also like that not only do you see her wheelchair lurking around the Belfry—along with the disability adaptations they put in place, like the ramps, the wheelchair elevator, and the desks that move up and down to wheelchair height—but that she also still uses her chair from time to time.
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[ID a screenshot from Gotham Knights showing the Belfry. Light streams in through a giant clockface, showcasing a bank of computer screens. In front of the screen, Barbara Gordon is using her wheelchair as Dick Grayson stands behind her, probably making a bad pun.]
Whether she's using it because she's tired or simply because it's more comfortable than the computer chair is never revealed. Nor is it brought up or commented on. It's just something that's normal for Barbara to do, and I like that. I like that it's normal. It's not a part of herself she's trying to erase. She works with it, not against it.
Is it perfect? No. Do they outright erase her disability like so many of the comics are guilty of? Also, no. I'd argue that, in fact, they kept her disability. They just changed the nature of it.
Barbara now has a dynamic disability, one which fluctuates and requires different management based on her day-to-day (or night) activity. She's in active treatment for it and will be for the rest of her life. Are some of the physical feats she achieves realistic for someone with an injury of her nature? Not really, but again, this is a world where nobody stays dead, and there are zombie assassins coming out of the walls. I'll take the attention to detail and care they put into her story any day over the "Willpower Fixed My Spine" narrative we could have gotten.
As for Bruce getting healed by magic, again, it's Batman. Comic book logic is wibbly-wobbly at the best of times, and realistically speaking, they couldn't leave Batman paralyzed. His whole deal revolves around being stealthy and punching the shit out of people. He wouldn't be Batman anymore, and frankly, I don't trust the comic writers as far as I could throw them to handle that right.
By contrast, the Gotham Knights writers handled Barbara with much more care and nuance than I ever expected. And I'm thankful for that.
---
*I also like that both Dick and Barbara are often shown wearing joint braces. Dick's are especially reminiscent of the way gymnasts and people with hypermobility tape their joints to reduce pain and prevent injuries. It's a nice little touch. They're not invincible. Their bodies hurt. They're just like me but with money and much bigger problems like giant killer robots and zombie assassins.
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upsidedownmvnson · 1 year
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you can take it | eddie munson smut
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summary: eddie gets jealous at a gig and reminds you exactly who you belong with :)
warnings: dacryphilia, just pure filth, rough sex, daddy kink, name calling in bed, jealous boyfriend, shy!reader, voyuerism
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You really were innocent in the whole situation.
You were at The Hideout, watching your boyfriend Eddie perform. You sat alone at the bar, sipping on something sweet and fizzy the bartender made you, on the house.
Someone approached you, introducing himself as Eric. He didn't leave when you mentioned you had a boyfriend, but he didn't make any moves on you either, he was just speaking to you, so you didn't feel concerned about it.
The only rule you and Eddie had about hanging out with other people is as long as they're not into you, it's totally fine. Because usually, Eddie is a pretty level headed guy, especially when it comes to you. He loves you, and trusts that you love him, and only him.
However, there are a few people that push Eddie's buttons just by existing. You knew about Jason Carver, but who you didn't know about was Eric Heely, lead singer of Hotels of Fire, another band that frequents gigs at The Hideout. And an industrial pain in Eddie's ass.
And now, he was leaning against the bar talking to you while Eddie played the rest of his show.
And Eddie was getting pissed off.
He didn't like the idea of this guy talking to you, but what he really hated was that this guy was using you to get a rise out of him, and worse yet, it was fucking working. Eddie's neck was getting hot, and he'd long lost his usual grin. Instead, it was replaced with a tight scowl, a really annoyed grimace that probably would've signalled something was wrong if you would just look at Eddie.
But no, you were talking with Eric, sipping on your drink. He could tell from there that you weren't doing anything wrong at all. You saw the best in people, and if you had said you weren't interested, you would trust the other person to take that as an answer. But Eddie knew better. Eddie knew that Eric wasn't just trying to make a new friend, he was trying to ruin Eddie's night.
By the time you realized you were in trouble, it was far too late. Eddie had already decided that you needed to be taught a lesson.
And once you're in hell, only the devil can get you out.
You noticed Eddie's grimace, and put two and two together when you saw your new friend waving at Eddie, smug smile on his face.
"Do you know Eddie?" you asked, growing suspicious.
"Oh yeah," he said, making sure Eddie was looking at him before tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "We go way back."
You reacted quickly, getting out of your chair and smacking that guys hand away from you. You were clearly telling him off, but Eddie just wished you would get away from that guy.
Eddie, still not angry with you, was fuming. Eric had touched you. He touched you without your permission, and you felt uncomfortable, Eddie could see that. The music turned aggressive, and his bandmates could see the scene unfolding in front of them, and they didn't know what was going to happen.
After cutting the song short, Eddie announced their set was over.
His friends looked at each other questioningly, as there was still supposed to be another few songs, but they wrapped up anyway, unplugging their instruments and beginning to disassemble. Eddie threw the van keys to Gareth, and didn't say a word as he rushed over to 'save' you.
You met Eddie halfway, trying to assure him that you didn't do anything. Eric was behind you smirking at the damage he'd done to Eddie's mood.
"Baby," he cooed, rubbing your arms. "I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at him." Eddie nodded over to Eric, and followed up by flipping him off. "Go over with Gareth, okay? I wouldn't trust this guy near your drink." Eddie plucked the beverage out of your hands, and while he doubted that Eric did anything to it, he just wasn't willing to risk it.
Eddie stormed over to Eric, and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.
"If you ever lay your hands on her again, I will kill you. Do you understand that? I will kill you."
"Death threats? Eddie, don't you think you're being a little dramatic? She was totally into it."
"If you interpret recoiling as into it, you're a predator." Eddie had to get out of here before he did something he would regret. Before he got the band barred from the only place they could find to play. "Stay away from us."
"Whatever, freak."
Eddie let go of Eric's shirt, turning on his heel and focusing on just getting back to you and calming down. Was he mad? Jealous? Pissed off? Yes, yes, and yes.
"Eddie?" you asked, as he approached you, but he didn't answer, just grabbed your hand and pulled you close, closing the gap between you and laying a big, fat kiss on you in front of everyone. You melted into him, not really caring who saw. Eddie loved pda, always had, loved showing everyone that you were his, and he was yours.
Hid hands wrapped around your waist, holding you as he leaned into you, bending your back and forcing your chest into his. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, taking in the intoxicating smell of him. Eddie, sweat covered and sexy.
"Eddie," you mumbled against his mouth, "let's pack up and just get out of here," you said, pulling away from him finally.
"Yeah," he agreed, "good idea."
And you could see the fire in his eyes. You could feel the way he tried to push into you. You were in trouble, but you weren't scared, you were excited.
"Are you ready to help us pack up?" Jeff asked, "or would you just like us to watch you make out some more."
"No one was forcing you to watch," Eddie said, his tone level and casual. None of his usual joking manner. "I'll bring the van around."
Eddie pulled you behind him. He wouldn't be letting you alone with that guy fucking lurking around. You were guided out the back door, and through the dark parking lot behind the bar. Eddie always parked in the same corner, far enough away from the door where he could secure a quick deal or two during his shows.
Even through the rage, you thought he was being a perfect gentleman by opening the passenger side door for you, but you should've known better. In this mood, you should've expected him to be dirty, dirty, dirty...
When you moved to get in, he pushed you down, bending you over the seat. With your ass in the air, he lifted your skirt and pulled your panties down to your knees, immediately smacking your ass three fast times. It stung, the sudden intrusion of pain was a delightful surprise. He groped your ass for a second, mumbling something about it being his.
"I fucking love this ass," he muttered, sliding his fingers down through your already soaking wet folds. "And this pussy."
Two rough fingers found your clit, rubbing small, quick circles around the little bud.
"I need to get you home," he said, plunging those fingers inside you. "Like, right now."
"We should h-help pack up," you said, only to be met with another smack on your ass from his free hand. He wasn't holding you down, you could've easily asked him to stop and he would've. But you didn't want to. And he knew that.
"Just need a minute," he said, falling to his knees. The concret scraped his knees, but he didn't care. He needed this to calm down. Then he could go pack up and get you home and deal with the rest of his frustrations. "Jus' a little taste," he whispered, leaning forward and diving into your pussy like it was the cure to all his problems. Which it kind of was, honestly.
One hand was gripping your thigh, right where it met your ass, holding it open so he could lick, and suck and just taste you. The other hand, slid around you to rub slow circles on your clit again, but not enough to get you off. He didn't want to overwhelm you already, and he definitely didn't want you to cum yet.
"Eddie," you moaned, biting your hand to keep quiet. "They're waiting for us."
"Don't care," he mumbled, continuing to eat you out, right there in the parking lot. It wouldn't be the first time you'd done something here in the parking lot, but it was the first time where you weren't hidden inside the van.
"Eddie," you moaned, as he licked up your slit and dipped into your tight little hole with his tongue, before pulling away entirely, letting the cool breeze blow across your wet centre, and you whined, wishing he would continue. He laughed, leaving your clit behind to grip both your ass cheeks in his calloused hands, the rough fingers felt amazing against your soft skin. He bit one of your ass cheeks, and kissed the other. And then slapped both at the same time.
And you got ready for him to fuck you. But instead he tucked his erection into the band of his jeans, and pulled your panties back up. He fixed your skirt, and then guided you to sit in the van.
"You're so good," he mused, his bad mood already lessening. "So beautiful."
You blushed, suddenly bashful about what he'd done.
"Now let's get the fuck out of here," he said, closing the passenger door and rushing around to the front. He drove to the otherside of the lot, completely unfazed by his voyeuristic tendencies.
The guys were already moving stuff outside, and leaving it by the backdoor.
"We were afraid to come over there," Gareth joked, loading stuff into the back. He found it even funnier when he caught the blush creeping over your neck and cheeks. He didn't say anything else about it. But he knew that there was some truth to it all.
"Just hurry up," Eddie said, impatience catching up with him. "I'm in a bad mood, I just fucking hate that guy."
"Yeah, that guy is a dick." Gareth shook his head. "But it's not like she would've let him do anything."
"Obviously," he muttered, and closed the back of the door. "It pisses me off that he would even try to use her like that though, like she's less of a person. It's just, it's gross."
"It is gross," he agreed. "Well, we're out of here. I think I'll catch a ride with Jeff. You seem, uh... busy."
"I think that's for the best."
The drive home was silent, except for the radio playing quietly between you. Eddie's hand gripped your thigh, tightly, possessively. He was thinking of all the ways he was going to fuck you. All the ways he was going to make you cum. All over his face, his cock, his fingers. He couldn't think about anything else. He loathed the idea that Eric probably thought he could get with you. It made it him fucking furious. The more he stewed about it, the more angry he got.
It was time to remind you that there was no one on Earth that could fuck you like he can.
He trusted you fully, but he was going to remind you anyway.
"Eddie?" you asked, "Are you sure you're not mad at me?"
"I'm sure, my love." He traded his grip on your thigh for your hand, which he brought to his lips to place several chaste kisses to your knuckles. It was sweet how much you cared about his feelings, and boundaries. "I just need to make sure you're properly fucked. I've been fucking you softly lately, and I love that," he smiled, and you were blushing, the topic of conversation making you bashful, "but it's time for Daddy to really fuck your brains out."
"Eddie!"
"Time to make my little mouse cum again and again," he continued, "until you're screaming and begging me to stop." He continued to kiss your hand as he spoke, "but you won't want me to stop, not really."
"Don't be dirty," you whispered, shy about the way he was speaking to you. But you loved it. You were soaking wet, clenching your thighs together, thinking about all the ways Eddie would have you. All the ways you would totally and fully give yourself to him.
"Oh baby," he cooed, "tonight we will be filthy, and I think," he let go of your hand, "I'll start now."
And with that he slipped his hand between your thighs, pushing them open. He wasted no time in grabbing your panties, yanking them over to the side and slipping his fingers between your folds.
"So fucking wet," he moaned, slipping a finger inside you, "and so fucking tight." He groaned, taking the finger out and popping it into his mouth. "And sweet."
You were breathing heavily, so turned on by how Eddie was acting. He'd dominated you before, but this was different. Like he was trying to prove something. He was trying to prove to himself that he was the right one for you, that he was the one you wanted and needed.
"I want you to be good for me tonight," he said, moving back between your legs and fingering you again. This time with two thick fingers, and his thumb on your clit. He knew everything by feel, his eyes never left the road. He knew where to touch, and what to do to please you. "Just do what I say and you'll be rewarded."
"Okay," you whispered, speechless at what was going on. You pulled your knee up onto the passenger side door to give him more access to you. To let him in deeper.
"Good girl," he cooed, "off to a good start."
He removed his hand again, and you whined at the loss of contact, but he shut you up by sticking his fingers into your mouth. "Taste that, honey? It's my favourite thing in the world." He kept his fingers in your mouth for a moment, until he felt your tongue swirl around the digits. "You're gunna suck my cock as soon as we get inside your house, and you're not gunna stop until I tell you to stop."
You nodded, and he pulled his fingers out, returning to gripping your thigh like at the start. You were throbbing, thinking 'please touch me again,' over and over and over in your head until you were sure he knew what you were thinking, because his smug smirk returned.
"Look at you, fucking begging for it, looking at me like that isn't gunna be enough, doll. You're not calling the shots tonight."
"Can I suck your cock now?" you asked, and he smiled.
"No," he said. "Keep your hands to yourself."
And suddenly your hands were magnets, and he was what they were attracted to. You wanted to touch him, to play with his hair, or his jacket. Touch his thighs, or any piece of exposed skin you could find. You needed him. You wanted him to be inside you, anyway possible. The lay restlessly on your lap, just keening to touch him.
You clenched your thighs together again, and Eddie tutted at you. "Don't do that, your pleasure is all for me tonight."
"Eddie..." you whined, hiking your leg up higher, trying to entice him to return to his work between your legs. But he didn't budge, just smirked as you whined and writhed in his passenger seat. He loved it like this, he liked how fucking feral you got for him.
And he especially loved how smug it made him when one of the guys sat in that seat, knowing all the dirty things he'd done to you in this van.
He killed the engine, parking crooked in your driveway. No one was home, it was a recipe for a perfect night.
"Don't even have to be quiet," he mused, "you're really in for it, little mouse."
And you were quick to exit the van, and excitedly head into the house. You were only a few steps in, leaning on the wall and trying to kick your shoes off when Eddie slammed the front door, grabbing your hand and turning you back around to him.
"I said 'as soon as we get inside'," and he pulled you down until you feel on your knees. "I didn't say take anything off."
He pushed your face into his bulge, the jean rubbing against your cheek, and the zipper cold on your nose.
You undid his belt above you, fumbling because you couldn't really see it. You pulled it through the loops, and he grabbed it from you before you could discard it.
"Take my pants off," he muttered, letting go of your hair. And you obeyed, tongue tied and soaking wet. Throbbing in your panties. Eddie had never been like this. And you wanted more. You wanted more than you knew.
While you worked on his jeans, he wrapped the belt around your neck. Not to choke you, but to hold it there, as if it was a promise. A promise to keep you in line. You sucked your lip into your mouth, salivating at the sight of his dick springing to life, free from the confines of his ripped jeans. His sexy, sexy ripped jeans.
You started teasingly, licking the underside of his dick slowly, but he yanked the belt, causing it to tighten ever so slightly. "I said, suck my dick!" he raised his voice, annoyed that he had to repeat himself a third time.
You whimpered, putting the tip in your mouth, and he thrusted into your mouth, forcing himself into your throat as you choked and gagged.
"If you want to stop at any point just tap twice or say Atari," he said, a softer tone taking over for a moment, he pulled back a bit, making you look up at him, "tap twice now if you understand."
You tapped his leg twice, and then you gagged on his dick as he thrusted it down your throat again. "Good girl," he muttered, dick twitching at the view he had. Belt wrapped around your throat like a leash, tears filling your eyes and his dick hit the back of your throat. You didn't even have to move, because Eddie couldn't control himself from grabbing your hair, and guiding you to suck his dick exactly how he wanted it.
Eddie was fucking your face, a foot from the front door. If anyone came onto the porch they'd hear the wet squelching of Eddie thrusting into your mouth, or the coughing caused by the intrusion.
"That's fucking unreal, little mouse," he muttered, throwing his head back and his continued gripping your hair by the roots, moving your head up and down on his thick cock. "You take daddy so well."
Your hands gripped his thighs, trying to ignore the painful throbbing of your ignored pussy, while Eddie takes his pleasure. "You look so pretty like this," he said, returning his attention to you. Tears made their escape down your cheeks, dragging your mascara with them.
He gave the belt some slack, and you backed off of him, sucking in a few big gulps of air.
"I didn't know you could take it so good, baby," he cooed, "Daddy's good little slut."
You nodded eagerly, not sure if you were allowed to talk or not. You leaned forward to take him back in your mouth, doing everything you had been before, but without Eddie's guiding hand, you did it yourself, shoving his cock to the back of your throat where you coughed and gagged around him.
His groans were delightful. Eddie moans were music, filling you you with pride and desire. You pulled away again for some more air, and he looked at you with a devilish smirk.
"Come up here," he said, yanking on the belt, forcing you back to your feet.
The belt dangled when he let it go, and he just looked at you for a second. Your hair was messy, cheeks covered in wet makeup, puffy lips, belt hanging loosely around your neck, and glossy eyes that made Eddie swoon, for just a moment. And then he smirked, rubbing his thumbs across your cheek, trying to remove some of the mascara, but he just smudged it more. He smiled.
"Did you like that?" he asked, wanting to make sure you were liking this otherside of him. You nodded. "Why don't you bend of that couch over there? Hmm? Show daddy that ass he loves so much."
You did as he asked, bending yourself over the armrest of the couch. Irritated by all the clothes still on, but Eddie said not to take anything off, and you wanted to be his good girl. Even your sneakers were still on.
You looked behind at him, and he had taken all his clothes off, and was roughly palming his cock in his hand. One finger looped around your panties, yanking them down your legs and off, landing somewhere on the floor. He winked at you, making you blush. He gripped your ass tightly, his thumb linger dangerously close to your asshole.
He spread you open, slapping his cock against your asshole a couple times, mumbling, "I'll have to give this tight little hole a try sometime..." but he slid down to the wet, sopping hole of your pussy, testing the readiness of it by slipping the tip in. Your pussy basically sucked him in, begging him to give it to you. "So fucking wet and ready baby, so fucking good for me."
Instead of fucking you like you desperately needed, he just popped the tip in and out a couple times, spreading your wetness down to your clit and up to your ass.
And then he was lined up to your pussy again, holding himself at your hole, and you whimpered, looking over your shoulder at him, glossy eyes begging for him.
"Why so quiet, little mouse? I want to hear you," he said, moving his cock down to your clit again, and then right back up to your centre.
"Please," you begged, voice breaking with anticipation.
"Please what?"
"Please... please fuck me Daddy," you begged, "please fuck me, I've been so good, I want it. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" you begged.
And in one swift movement he grabbed the belt again, yanking it tight, constricting your throat just enough for you to feel the threat of choking, and also thrusting himself fully inside you. You screamed at the sudden invasion, but it felt so fucking good. The belt slightly constricting you, forcing your head back, and Eddie suddenly balls deep inside you made you scream you loved it so much. His other hand gripped your ass, the skirt bunching up in his palm.
Like how he treated your face, he was roughly fucking into you, each pump going all the way out before slamming back in. Each move was calculated, your head being forced back felt... so fucking good. He slapped your ass, flipping your skirt up.
You muttered unintelligible syllables, just grunts and moans as he took all of you.
You were taking him so well, your pussy was gripping him so tightly. Fuck, Eddie couldn't take it, but he didn't want to cum yet. Didn't want it to end.
You were breathing heavy, getting close to finishing, and Eddie could feel it. He knew the signs of your orgasm, and right when you were about to fall off that edge, he stopped entirely, pulling out and letting your orgasm shatter to pieces, not giving you any sense of relief. Instead, you were left with a painful thump in your clit.
Eddie touched it slowly and softly, giving nowhere near enough to coax you back to your orgasm, but enough to soothe the throbbing of neglect your poor pussy felt.
You whined, trying to push yourself back on him, and it made him chuckle. You looked so desperate for him. You wanted him. And Eddie finally got back his confidence that he was the only one for you. A fact you'd never doubted.
He loosened the belt, taking it off completely, and flipped you over, so you were standing again, leaning back against the couch. He moved your hair out of the way to make sure he didn't do any damage, and he didn't. It was just a little red, with a few small marks where the edges had rubbed into you. But he'd never pulled it tight enough to hurt you.
And then his movements were caring, just for a moment, just enough time to slide off your skirt, and then your shirt and bra. He slowly undressed you, stroking his cock slowly. He worshipped your body, hands dragging slowly across all newly exposed skin.
"So fucking pretty, baby," he said, "and you take it so well, who knew you had this kind of ... perseverance?"
"I want to cum," you pouted, "and I want you to fuck me full."
Eddie's eyes widened at your words, and his usual cheeky grin returned. "Oh, baby, you don't even know what you're asking for," he groaned, biting his bottom look as he took in your disheveled appearance.
"Yes, I do," you challenged, "please?"
And he pushed you back, letting you fall onto the couch cushions. And you crawled backwards as he climbed over the couch, stalking up your body like you were his prey.
He wedged himself in between your thighs, lining him up with your pussy and shoving it back in, hitting every part of you. He stayed still inside you, every inch of him covered with you. And he kissed you. He kissed you with his tongue, teeth, with his hands. He was all over you, covering every sense and taking the attention of all your thoughts.
"I love you," he muttered, "I love you so much."
"I love you too," you whispered.
"Good," he smirked, "now take it."
And he was thrusting into you like he didn't love you at all. Hitting every part of you that was only for him to hit. Each slap of his hips hitting into your thighs hurt, but only in the most pleasurable way. You moaned, wrapping your legs around him, trying to somehow bring him in harder, deeper.
One hand by your head, holding him up, the other latching around your throat as he kissed you, all tongues and sloppy. the only sounds being the squelching of your painfully wet pussy and your tiny whimpers, being lost in his mouth.
"I want you to cum," he said, pulling himself away from your mouth, keeping his eyes locked onto your as you moaned under him, breathless and sweaty. "Now, I want you to cum now," he said, angling himself differently, and thrusting harder, hitting you in a spot that made you feel like you were gunna explode.
You were going to explode, especially when he ordered, "touch yourself, make yourself cum."
Like a good girl, you rubbed small circles over your clit, helping him bring yourself back to that ledge you so desperately wanted to jump off.
Your walls tightened around him, and it was different. It was different than every other time. You were chanting his name, moaning "Eddie," over and over until you came, screaming his name and feeling elecricity down to your toes. Every part of you was on fire, and your muscles tightened, pulling him in closer while you squirted, for the very first time, soaking Eddie and the couch, pushing him out of your pussy.
He moved quickly, putting two fingers roughly inside you and moving them with ferocity as he coaxed you through the biggest orgasm you'd ever had. You screamed, loudly, honestly worrying Eddie that the neighbours would hear, so he clamped another hand over your mouth, keeping the noise contained. Your muffled screams just coaxed him to an orgasm on their own, he was sure of it.
He had been close to his climax, but this new change of events was okay with him. He could've cum just from knowing how well he satisfied you.
Your heavy breathing continued for a minute, and in a cock drunk state you looked at him, smiling stupidly while he just watched you, still softly fingering you, keeping his eyes locked on yours.
"I made you squirt," he said, stupid, goofy grin all over his face. He continued stroking his fingers in you.
"You didn't cum," you pouted, looking at his still rock hard cock.
"Guess we'll have to just start all over again, pretty petal, but why don't we get you some water first."
And before you understood what was happening, two were standing in the kitchen, Eddie bending you over the counter and slipping his cock back inside you, wrapping his arms around you to hold you close, and to get his fingers back on you clit. Your back pressed into his chest, and he pumped into you slowly.
"More," you muttered, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts.
"Hmm," he mused, grinning down at the sight of your ass slapping against his abdomen. "I don't know if you can take it..."
"I can," you whined, trying to fuck yourself harder on his cock, but his arms restricted you, not letting you take what you wanted.
"Tell me you can take it," he said, "convince me that you can take it."
And you wriggled free of his grip, climbing onto the counter and laying on your back. Eddie watched with a grin on his face, as you spread your legs wide for him, angling yourself at the perfect height for him to ravage you again. He took his place between your thighs, and rubbed himself up and down on your pussy.
"I can take it," you promised, "I want you to fuck me like you hate me, daddy."
"Is that what you want?" he asked, continuing to slide his tip through your juices, leaving a trail down to your asshole. He popped the tip into your pussy, pulling it out almost immediately.
"Please," you whined, "please fuck me, I can take it. I love it, I want you to hurt me. I want you to fuck me until you fuck me full of your cum. I want you to take it all out on me," you begged, staring straight into his eyes.
"Dirty little mouse," he said. He loved when you broke out of your shell. When you could talk about all your dirty desires with him. "Let's go to bed," he said, wicked smile ever present. "I want to ruin you on those cute pink sheets of yours."
He took your hand, helping you off the counter, like a gentlemen, and then followed you to your room.
"On your knees on the bed," he said as soon as you got in the room. You you crawled on, ass in the air over the edge of the bed, shaking your ass the perfect spot for him to come take you, he did just that, walking up behind you and thrusting two of his fingers into your hole. You moaned, and he moved them aggressively, hitting that delicious spot roughly over and over, and over.
"I'm gunna fuck you full, alright." He was mumbling behind you, working his fingers quickly, hitting your g-spot like he own it and twirling circles around your clit. "Just gotta make you cum again real quick, and then I'm gunna fuck you totally full of my babies." He grinned, turned on by the imagery of you, all round and pregnant with his baby. Maybe one day...
You were getting close again, your arms buckled and you fell onto your chest, your cheek squishing into the soft duvet Eddie loved so much.
It was too much, he knew you too well. You couldn't resist if you wanted to. You moaned knowing he was right, he was going to make you cum again, quickly and with ease. His tongue poked out in complete concentration, followed by a smile as he felt you tighten up. Standing up, he kept the circles on your clit going, but quickly switched out his fingers for his cock, angling himself until he felt your g-spot again.
You screamed again, muffling yourself in the blankets. And the feeling of his big dick penetrating you when you were that close, made you come undone again, you came around his cock, clenching him so tightly he threw his head back in pleasure.
He moved away from your clit, letting his dick be your only guide through another orgasm, and he was back to gripping your ass. He fucking loved that ass. He spanked it, gripped it, held it open, and then out of nowhere he leaned forward to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling you back up, and holding it taut so you were forced to stay on your hands. You moaned, the pain was just another sensation of pleasure.
"You stay like that baby, looks so fucking good." He groaned, his dick twitching inside you, he was close. He wanted to cum so fucking bad, he needed the relief.
Tears rolled down your cheeks, the pleasure so great that you couldn't contain it. Couldn't even speak. Eddie fucked you stupid, and you didn't want him to stop. You wanted to be ruined by him. You wanted him to take total claim of you, marking you as his for the rest of forever.
"So fucking good -" he grunted, thrusting harder into you, hitting the back wall with every thrust, making sure to hit you with his full length everytime. "So fuck tight baby, you're so fucking tight. That's all for me, yeah? Just for me," he mumbled, thumb poking into your asshole, and you moaned.
"For you," you muttered weakly, pathetically. You could barely get the words out, the new sensation of his fingers proding a new hole made your pussy tighten again.
"I think I can get you there one more time, huh? What do you say, puppet? Cum for daddy one more time?"
You nodded, feeling like you were close already. He let go of your hair and you leaned forward, arching your back as much as possible to give him even more access to you. He spread your ass open so he could see it all. Watch as he pummeled your little pussy.
"Gunna c.." you moaned, "gunna please."
"What's that? I don't know what you're saying down there baby."
"I'm g-gunna fuck," you whined, "it's- again."
"What're you? Stupid? Use your words, baby, tell me," he cooed, egging you on when he knew damn well what you were saying, and your walls became impossibly tight around him.
"I'm gunna cum," you whined, finding your voice finally, and you continued to raise it as you said, "please, daddy. Please, I'm gunna fucking cum, you fuck me so good."
"Was that so hard?" he asked, finding your clit with a wet thumb and rubbing circles on it until he felt you come undone again, biting the duvet to keep from wailing and alerting the whole fucking town to what Eddie doing.
He couldn't hold back anymore, and he followed through on his promises, continuing to fuck you as he came ribbons into your cunt, the liquids pooling up and dripping out around his cock. He watched with stars in his eyes at the sight of your pretty pussy taking all his juices.
He slowed down, his dick still inside you but softer. He cooed at you, praising you for being so good.
"Baby, that was... wow," he said, pulling out of you. He ran a comforting hand down your back, gripping your ass gently one more time. "I love you, I love you so much."
Eddie ran a finger over your pussy, to your clit, making your whole body jerk when he touched it. Your cum and his mashed together, an indistinguishable mess between your legs. You didn't move, just stayed face down ass up while Eddie worshipped up, touching you softly all over the place.
"My love," he said, taking your hand softly, returning to his nurturing boyfriend stat like he hadn't just treated you like a whore. His whore... "C'mon sweet girl, let's go get some water and a shower."
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amomentsescape · 9 months
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Hey I love yanderes and slashers and used to have a sleep walking problem where I would try to crawl through windows, can you do a yandere slasher x reader where the reader has developed Stockholm syndrome and been loving to the slasher so they trust them and let them have more freedom. Then they see them try to crawl out a window in their sleep? How would they react? Would they believe the reader? What would make them believe them if they didn't? If they didn't believe them the how would they react to finding out the reader told the truth?
Thank you so much! And merry Christmas! 🎄 🎄🎄🎄🎄🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅
Slashers with Reader Who Sleepwalks & Tries to Leave
Yandere! Slashers x Reader (Separate)
Warnings: Yandere behavior, of course. Mentions of abusive behavior
A/N: Merry (late) Christmas! I hope you all had a great holiday! For this request, I decided to leave Eric out. He's just the complete opposite to a Yandere in my opinion, and it was nearly impossible for me to write him as such. I hope that's okay!
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Freddy Krueger
He knows you would never purposefully leave him
Like, he actually knows
His (undead) life revolves around sleep
He knows when you're awake and where you're actually sleeping, even if he keeps you stuck in his dream world
So when he finds you trying to escape out of the little window he built for you, he just laughs
He had already known you sleep walked
He'd been haunting your dreams for weeks prior to actually taking you
Freddy just keeps watching you, not really doing anything about it
You're stuck in his world either way
Might as well see how far you'll go
He'll almost use this as a test of sorts
He'll let you wander to wherever you want to go in your sleep, and he may even change the environment to something you don't recognize
When you wake up, his name better be the first thing that falls from your lips
If it's not...
Well, he'll just have to try harder at getting you to need him
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Michael Myers
It took a very long time for Michael to get to this point
The fact that he lets you sleep without chains is a huge decision on his part
He doesn't trust easily
And any feelings of trust he did have come crumbling down the moment he wakes up without you beside him
It didn't take long to find you
There you were, pushing and prodding at the boarded up window
He's truly pissed
And a little hurt
He really thought you were growing to actually like your situation
But when he spins you around and sees your eyes staring blankly through him, he tilts his head
You don't seem... right?
He'll shake you harshly until he sees the life come back to your eyes
When you finally look up at him with a similarly confused look on your face, he starts to realize
He understands you well enough to know when you're not acting like yourself
When he finally explains what you were doing after you repeatedly asked him, you sigh
You explain that sometimes at night, you wander around without realizing it
A sleepwalker, huh?
Sadly, the chains will need to come out again
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Jason Voorhees
You wouldn't actually leave him, right?
You seemed so caring
He actually believed you when you said you needed him
But here you were, trying to leave your shared home in the middle of the night
He almost breaks down as he picks you up and takes you back to your room
He finds it a bit odd that you don't fight back at all, but he assumes you just don't care to
He locks you up and makes sure that you can't go anywhere
How could you do this to him?
When you wake up the next morning in chains and not in your shared bed, you begin to cry for Jason
He tries to ignore you, but he can't bring himself to hear your sad voice calling out to him
You try your best to tell him that you don't remember what happened, and that you would never leave him
And maybe he's too trusting, but he believes you
You just seem so sad and so genuine that it's impossible for him to think it's anything other than honesty
You couldn't be that stupid anyways
You'd get lost in those woods alone at night, he knows that
So he just has to believe you
He loves you, and love means trust, right?
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Thomas Hewitt
But you were being so sweet to him just hours before
How could you lie to his face like that?
He wakes up without you in his arms, and he just about loses it
Frantically searches for you around the house and finally finds you at one of the nailed in windows
He pulls you away quickly, staring at you sadly
He's waiting for an explanation, but you don't say anything
You just stare
You weren't acting like yourself
He pushes you back towards the bedroom and you walk the rest of the way yourself, climbing back into bed with ease
He's confused, but decides to see if it will happen again
You can't leave anyways
The whole house is locked up, and you don't even know where the keys are
You act just like your normal self the next day
And that night, you're back to walking around with a blank stare
He figures this just might be a thing you do
Doesn't really try to stop you, but he does follow you most nights to make sure you don't accidentally hurt yourself
On nights he wants you in bed, he ties some old fabric around your ankle and holds you tight while you sleep
You might not ever know about your late night adventures unless he decides to tell you
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Bubba Sawyer
He's quite literally blubbering to you
He's crying, he's frantic, he even shakes you a bit, and you just stand there not responding
He keeps waiting, and when you start to just wander around again, he loses it
What's wrong with you? Why are you acting like this?
He ties you back into bed and stays up the rest of the night, watching you
The next morning, he confronts you stressfully
You keep telling him over and over that you don't know what he's talking about
But he refuses to believe you
(He wants to believe you, he's just scared)
He only finally realizes you were being honest when in the middle of the day during your nap, he finds you wandering back to the window with his whole family watching you
You weren't stupid
Why would you try to leave when literally everyone could see you in broad daylight?
His family begins laughing and saying things like "looks like you got yourself a sleepwalker"
So you weren't purposefully trying to leave him?
He cries tears of joy and spends the next couple of days pampering you and giving you just about everything you want
He does his best to show you that he's sorry
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Brahms Heelshire
It's quite literally known that Brahms has abandonment issues at this point
So when he catches you climbing up onto the window sill
He loses it
Will grab you and roughly pull you off, your body falling to the ground
This immediately wakes you up, your eyes searching around frantically
When you see Brahms standing above you, you try to reach for him, but he only shoves you away
You look so sad and confused at this, but Brahms is too stubborn to give in
He starts tying you up again each night, still very hurt that you would try to leave like that
It takes weeks for you to gain his trust again
And the one night he lets you sleep freely, he catches you by the window again
But instead of grabbing you immediately, he decides to just watch
He wants to see how far you'll go so he knows just how severe your punishment will need to be
But instead, you just give up on unlocking the window (it was jammed), and you just turn around and walk straight back to bed, not even registering Brahms being right there
This is odd
You need to explain the concept of sleepwalking to him the next day
He still remains skeptical for a while, but he'll come around
You just need to be extra attentive for a while...
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Norman Bates
Norman already knows a lot about sleepwalking
(It's what he thought was going on for a while when he couldn't remember large chunks of time throughout the week)
When he finds you opening a window in the middle of the night, he bolts at you, ready to lock you back up in one of the motel rooms again
However, when you don't respond or reveal any emotion on your face, he immediately knows what's going on
He's surprised
He didn't know you'd be a sleepwalker
He decides to just lead you back to bed, knowing that waking you isn't the best idea
Sits you down the next morning and talks with you about it
When you seem very apologetic, he uses it to his advantage
Has you cuddle up with him even more than normal and stay by his side at all hours of the day
He still gives you some freedom
But he's always watching
He does take some precautions and ties your wrist up in the middle of the night
He has to, for your safety of course
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Billy Loomis
To be honest, you don't make it very far
Billy has an iron grip on you at all times, and he's a light sleeper
The moment you get up, he's awake, observing you carefully
Sometimes you have to pee in the middle of the night, but he still makes sure you aren't lying to him
His ability to trust is practically in the ground
The moment you turn the wrong way, he's up and chasing after you
Were you that dumb? You knew he watched you every time you got up from bed
He grabs your wrist quickly and points a knife at your throat as a threat
He can't bring himself to actually hurt you though, not that you knew that
Or did you?
Because you just stand there not even moving away from the blade
Billy becomes very confused
He takes his hand and begins to wake it in front of your face, looking for some sort of reaction
You don't give him one
Are you still... asleep?
He shakes you a bit until you finally look at him, confusion written all over your face
You're a sleepwalker, aren't you?
He just rolls his eyes annoyed and drags you back to bed, not explaining anything
Just another thing he needs to look out for now
You sometimes wake up to bruises on your hips and waist from how hard Billy holds you in the night, but he's just trying to protect you, right?
He doesn't mean to hurt you, he just refuses to lose another person in his life
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Stu Macher
Stu literally sleeps on you, so it's nearly impossible for you to leave the bed most nights
But if you somehow wiggle your way out, you wouldn't make it outside the house
The windows have been nailed so that they only open a small amount
When he finds you the next morning, curled up under a partially opened window, he just smiles
Call it naive, but he just assumes you were getting too warm in the bed
When you wake up in a confused state however, he becomes concerned
What do you mean you don't remember opening that window?
He honestly just becomes more worried that there's something wrong with your memory rather than you trying to leave him
He'll likely talk to Billy about it
He just hears laughter from the other end of the phone
"Sounds like they sleep walk," he'd say
Stu does a bunch of research on it later
He doesn't really mind though
All of the unsafe objects are already hidden away, and every possible exit is locked down
You aren't going anywhere
If anything, he finds it fun to wake up some mornings and look around for you
It's like a game, and Stu loves games
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feefivefoe · 1 month
Text
Surely Dick wasn't too at fault. He wasn't there for the majority of your mistreatment! He was starting up the Titans, or taking care of his own city, Bludhaven.
And when you had first come to the manor, both you and himself weren't exactly ready to have a new family, with him still having unresolved trauma over the death of his parents, and you having watched your apartment complex burn down from the inside!
You were both hurting and emotionally repressed back then, so you can't blame your big brother too much, can you?
At least, that's what he tries to tell himself at first. Because no, he wants to HELP. And he's one of the most well adjusted ones of the family (as though that's saying much-), so he can't be one of the biggest ones at fault.
Of course it isn't yours either, you were just a poor baby. You just didn't know what you were doing. And you still don't! It's so clear you're trying to push them away because you're afraid they're going to hurt you again, but they won't! They've learned their lesson, honest!
Don't you know what the realization that you're gone did to Jason? It almost tore him apart, you know! And Damian is just so curious and eager to meet you. He has so much to make up to you, so just come home and let big brother handle everything, okay? He's so eager to shower you in all the bonding moments he missed out on when you were little!
Why didn't you tell him you did theatre shows? He was in the circus, you're both performers! (In the back of his mind he can't help but wonder if that similarity is what drove you to start in the first place. Had you been desperate for a connection before genuinely falling in love with the art?) Ah, but don't get too involved now that you're out of school! That might put you in the same location as Clayface at some point.
Why don't you just perform at home? You can do a show where you play all the parts, or you can assign them roles...he's sure the other would agree if you were the one asking!
He's insistent on showing you off to the media at first, wanting everybody to know what a happy family the Wayne's are. Ah, but being in the public eye puts you at risk, and questions rise about your whereabouts for so long...maybe be a homebody! Don't go out without one of your brothers or dad, okay? They're used to handling the media, and how harsh they can be.
And the handful of villains who know their identities can't target you if you're at home. Your home. Not that dingy, unsafe apparment where they can't make sure you're warm, and fed, and safe, and happy-
Just...just stay where your big brother can look after you, okay? You both missed out on so much, after all!
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dcxdpdabbles · 8 months
Text
Alfred's Boy Part 5
@donesodone said: I just wanted to know. Is there a continuation of Alfred's Boy in the Works? If not, that's fine. I just love it and want to see it continue.
Bruce didn't realize how quiet Danny indeed was until Wes appeared. He suspected, of course, that no child was removed from their home by a super secret ex-spy if it wasn't a terrible, horrible reason, but still, he was shocked to see the difference.
Alfred's foster son had a weight around him, wearing his sadness like a depressing cloak. It was apparent that Danny was just tired. As if though he hadn't gotten a good night's rest in a long time, even when he was moving about and doing his chores like nothing was amiss.
Bruce will admit that he hadn't realized that Danny was so sad. He had no previous reference to compare him to, so he assumed that the boy was naturally reserved.
If he's honest, he also thought it was impressive how Danny could take anything in stride without so much as a blink.
Finding out his boss was Batman? Another Tuesday.
Tim's photo album of him? Danny appreciates the art behind photography.
Damian burst into his room, covered in bleeding wounds, he just had to have Danny bind? He took lessons from Alfred and appreciated the change to practice.
What he failed to realize was through all those events, Danny had had a lukewarm reaction, as if he had forgotten how to enjoy things.
Now, however, watching him with Wes, he realizes that Danny is naturally bubbly. He smiled wide, talked a lot with his hands, and while the same sass he had seen before was still there, there was more ease in him wielding it.
"Fun Fact: Tango was initially invented to be done between two men, " He hears Wes say, as Bruce walks by the viewing room the two boys were in.
Unable to help himself, Bruce peeks into the room, fighting the urge to lecture Danny. The reason for the lecture is that Danny is currently sitting in Wes's lap, his back to Wes' chest, and both are staring at the book "Useless Information" in Wes' hands.
Not dating his ass.
"So what you're saying is: Tango is gay," Danny affirms, cuddling into the blankets tucked around him, and leaning further into Wes. "The dance of our people."
Wes hums, "If only we could dance."
"Boys." He calls because he really wants to step between them, but Bruce is already doing that against his kids, and he is done being the civilian in Jason's novels. "Would either of you like to go to an opera tonight? I have some box seat tickets a close friend gave me, but I had other plans and didn't want them to go to waste."
Bruce didn't, but a little white lie wouldn't hurt anyone. He could easily buy them before the kids got to the opera house.
Wes's eyes practically sparkled. Bruce knew they would; he heard Wes play some songs from three famous operas the other day while Danny was showering. "Opera with box seats!? I love to go!"
Danny grimaces, clearly not that big of a fan. "Now look what you did, Master Bruce."
"Please, can we go, Danny?" Wes whines, "I'll let you haunt me if we go."
Danny cracks a smile, and Bruce is stunned by its softness. Had he not noticed how empty Danny's smiles have been until now? "Okay, Okay, we can go. But if I fall asleep you can't complain."
"How could anyone fall asleep at the Opra?"
"Easy. It's boring." Steph snips, leaning on the door frame. Bruce hadn't realized she was there. He frowned in her direction, not missing how Wes rolled his eyes.
"Hello, green-eyed monster. How are you this evening?" He said, making Steph eyes narrow. Danny was swinging his head between them, looking confused, but before he could ask, Wes continued, "Want to go with us? Danny needs more people to cuddle, and my visit has an expiration date."
Steph looks taken back, but her whole face breaks into the largest smile Bruce has ever seen on her face in a while when Danny nods, seemingly embarrassed. "It would be nice to have more cuddles. I, ugh, realized I was going too long without them."
Hmm, that's the fifth time the two have mentioned cuddling since yesterday. Bruce knows he ignored Wes's entrance when he got here yesterday, but maybe he should look into it.
If Alfred allowed, of course.
"I'll go get ready!" Steph shouts, racing down the hall. There is a brief pause before a loud "Hey, watch it!" and quick, distant "Sorry, Jason!"
His second oldest stridden into the room, grumbling at the giant front stain on his shirt. A half-empty cup in his hand lets Bruce know Steph bumped into him, making him spill his precious soda.
"Can't get any peace around here," Jason mumbles.
"I can clean that for you, Master Jason." Danny is quick to say, standing up from his seat. Wes lifts his arm to let Danny wiggle out of his grasp, but Jason only shakes his head.
"Nah, it's fine, kid." With one hand, Jason yanks the shirt over his head. Wes drops his book, and Danny's face goes very red. Bruce has a moment of utter horror, but Jason doesn't seem to notice, throwing the ruined shirt over his shoulder. "I was going to shower after some reading anyway. What are you crazy kids up to?"
"O-Oprea," Danny shutters, staring up at Jason with strange emotion in his eyes. Wes looks like a deer caught in headlights beside him.
Jason's face brightens. "No way! I love the opera."
"You do?" We gasped.
"Yeah, though, I'm more of a play guy myself. I love the theater. Once a drama kid always a drama kid." Jason winks and, oh no, Wes looks to be swooning. What's worse, Danny seems to be swooning too.
"Want to come with?" Wes blurts, and Jason considers the invitation carefully before shrugging.
"You know what? Yeah, I love to. Let me go take my shower then get ready. It's at what time?"
"Seven," Bruce answers, stepping in when both boys seem unable to get their tongues to work. Jason nods, and then a wicked smirk grows on his face.
Bruce is instantly weary.
"Let's make this a family event. You guys don't mind, right?" Jason turns back to the boys, shaking their heads like bobble figures.
"The more, the merrier, Master Jason."
"Perfect" Quick as a whip, Jason pulls out his phone and sends a quick message. He leaves the room, but not before calling over his shoulder "I'll meet you in the main doorway at six-thirty."
Bruce's phone buzzes. He pulls it out, reading the message: Hey losers, Danny wants to see the Oprea. The really romantic one. Do any of you want to join us?
He feels a headache coming on. Especially with Wes and Danny looking at each other with shocked open mouths, looking like they were wordlessly expressing how attractive they thought Jason was.
Tim comes sprinting down the hall. Bruce is unsure what he is doing, seeing as his hair is wrapped in a towel, but he is wearing half of a chicken costume as he runs by. "I want to go, I want to go, I want to go! Don't leave without me!"
Wes squints at the open door hallway before laughing that strange, impish laugh of his. "This place is a riot."
Danny pauses before that same soft smile blooms on his face, and Bruce's heart melts. "Yeah, I like Wayne Manor too."
Maybe Danny isn't as happy as before, but maybe one day he will be. Bruce would be content with that.
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Places We Dance
AKA Kitchen Dances Part Two. Shout out to @jjenthusee for breaking my heart so much with their angst fic it kick started my desire to write. You're truly an inspiration.
Jason finds himself dancing with you a lot now. It's almost funny, how easily spinning each other around has become a part of his life.
He loves it almost as much as he loves you. The way either one of you can hold out a hand and the other just knows, music or not. It makes him smile every time, the way you twirl each other, even if he has to bend down to get under your arm.
He loves swaying with you. He really loves lifting you up and spinning you around. It's magical, the way you tilt your head back and laugh, trusting him completely to never drop you. He never would, wouldn't dream of it.
Telling you that he loves you is always on the tip of his tongue, especially in moments like this. He doesn't need anything more, would never ask for anything better than this. But he wants you to know, you deserve to know, how much you mean to him. He just still hasn't figured out exactly how to tell you.
It almost slips it when you drag him out from under the overhang of your favorite bodega, into the drizzle of rain.
He doesn't mind getting wet, not when you're spinning with him through Gotham's barren streets and smiling like there's no place you'd rather be. His socks are wet, and his hair is matted to his face, but you're so, so beautiful like this. You're happy, and he's still surprised every time that he's a part of your happiness.
It almost slips out again, the fact that he loves you, at some charity event Bruce is throwing. His suit feels too itchy, the air to stale, but suddenly you're there, eyes bright as you hook your arm with his and pull him towards the dance floor.
"You've gotta get me away from these people, Jason, spare me dance?" You ask, and your fake smile melts into something real when your gaze meets his.
He nods, more than happy to guide you along the dance floor. He listens to you poke fun at Gothams elite, how they wouldn't know how to hold a conversation even if you gave them a script, and he feels butterflies in the pit of his stomach over your smile.
He wants to tell you right now, and he almost does, until the lights dim and Bruce walks on stage to talk about the charity he's sponsoring tonight. The moment passes, but it's not all bad. It's not bad at all, when as you're both turning towards the stage, you lean into his side and he gets to keep his arm around your waist, holding you flush against his side.
The words always seem to threaten to rush out of his mouth. He has you in his arms on the rooftop of your apartment building, swaying back and forth to the distant music playing throughout Gotham. It's Gothams anniversary tonight, and the whole city seems alive, brimming with excitement over the fireworks show. (Paid for by The Wayne Foundation, but that's neither here nor there.)
He's off from patrol tonight, and he's never been so grateful that Dick insisted he spend tonight with you instead. Your head rests under his chin as he traces his thumb over your hip. It's warm, soft, and perfect. Jason opens his mouth to tell you, says your name just as the first fireworks start to go off. You pull away in excitement, grabbing his hand to drag him closer to the edge of the roof.
Another opportunity passes, but he doesn't mind. The way the colors and light from the fireworks dance over your face are too pretty to let anything bother him.
Jason's swaying with you in his favorite place to dance, your kitchen, just the two of you. You just finished cleaning the dishes, him washing, you drying, and he didn't fight the urge to pull you to his chest as the music changed to something soft and slow.
You're humming along to music, lazily moving back and forth in the same spot. His heart skips a beat when he realizes this is it. There's no one to distract him, nothing to steal your attention. He hesitates, because it doesn't seem good enough, big enough, to tell you here.
He should have said it in the rain, it would have been romantic, a scene right out of a movie. He should have said it at the charity ball, gone up on stage and declared how he felt for all of uptight Gotham to hear. He should have said it on the roof, when your eyes were shining and he thought his heart was going to burst out of his chest.
How could he tell you here? When his feelings could ruin everything, destroy the best relationship he's ever had. When he could lose his best friend because he went and caught feelings.
How does he say he loves you?
Jason says your name carefully, he hates the shake on his voice.
You give a soft hum in response. He hates himself a little, in this moment, for wanting to ruin something that feels so safe and secure and comfortable with something that might not ever be.
You pull back a little when he doesn't respond, peering up at his face, his fingers twitch against your back. "What's up, Jason? Everything okay?"
"I-" Jason starts, swallowing his words when they get stuck in his throat. "I love you."
"Oh," you respond casually, already resting your head back against his shoulder, "I love you too."
He stiffens, he knows you misunderstood. Knows you took his words in a way that wasn't romantic. He knows he should leave it here, not try to cross the boundary between friend and more, but the words keep falling from his mouth.
"No," he chokes out, says your name almost desperately when you look back up at him. He needs you to understand, "I love you. I love you and I know I should tell you better- you deserve better than this- than me-"
He's rambling. Jason knows this, he also knows his hands are tightening on your waist, that he's scared you'll pull away and tell him to leave and say you never want to see him again. You'd be right to. You'd be right when you're everything he's ever really wanted to keep and he's just Jason Todd, second-rate vigilante.
"I love you," he says again, because it needs to be clear, "I love your smile and your laugh and your eyes and I love how everything is easier when you're next to me. I love dancing with you, I love-" He stumbles over your name, "I'm in love with you."
You blink at him, gaze darting between his eyes. Anxiety seeps into the lines of his face. But now you know. There's not a secret left of his that isn't yours as well.
But then you lean up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and his world freezes, "I'm in love with you too, Jason."
He looks down at you wide-eyed as you settle your head back against his shoulder and slowly start guiding him back into dancing to the music, coaxing him to relax into the rhythm of the song.
It sounds so simple when you say it. Like there's nothing to worry about. His muscles lose the tension he didn't realize he was holding. You love him.
You love him, and he loves you. It's clear in every step you take to the music, in every note you hum along to as you rest against him. Jason Todd is in love with his best friend, and his best friend is in love with him. You'll remind each other of that with every song you dance to, every beat you sway to, even if it's only to the beat of your own hearts.
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redflagshipwriter · 7 months
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Check Yes (to go on a date with a dead guy) chapter 5 progress
“Hey!” Duke hollered, as soon as Jason put the key in his door. “Welcome back, loser!”
Danny huffed out a laugh. 
“Hey yourself,” Jason called out, holding the door open and making sure Danny got in before he closed it behind them. “Scruffy little brother, this is Danny. Danny, this is Duke.” 
“Wait, what?” Duke skidded into the room on socked feet, eyes wide and mouth grinning in confused delight. “I didn't know you had any friends!” 
“Oh, we're not friends,” Danny reassured him easily, missing Jason's scowl. “Just dating. So there's still no proof that he has friends.” He winked obnoxiously. 
Jason could see the moment Duke shut down and rebooted twice as excited. 
Christ. He quietly cursed to himself and ducked his head to hide the burning in his cheeks as Danny bounced over to hold his hand out. He was never beating the allegations of favoritism after this, Jason sighed. 
Danny was a little sun spot when he chirped, “Nice to meet you, I hear you're the generous distributor of games?”
“Yeah, that request makes sooo much more sense now.” Duke met Danny's hand with a friendly slap and then went in for a hug. Jason cringed at the familiarity- but apparently it was the right move. Danny went for it, backslapping Duke amiably. They separated. Danny thoughtfully held Duke at a distance, hands on his shoulders. 
“I see. So, you're my true opponent?” At Duke's nod, Danny smiled with a few too many teeth. He leaned in to hold intense eye contact. “Gonna kick your ass,” Danny vowed. 
“You can try, old man,” Duke shot back. They separated with grins. “I’ll set up. Jason, your taste is so much better than I thought it would be.”
Jason made an offended noise. “Wait, what?” 
Duke gestured at him with one lazy hand as he unlatched the top of his backpack and started withdrawing games. “I figured you would exclusively date super serious tough types.”
“... I'm tough,” Danny said morosely.
Jason resisted the urge to cackle. He didn't disbelieve it at all! Size wasn't everything. But the uh, the big baby eyes and slumping shoulders really weren't selling the toughness.
Duke shrugged, brutal and unconcerned with the damage he was leaving in his wake. “I was thinking more like a forensic accountant who collects rocks and cage fights literally just for the fitness benefits.” 
Jason took a moment to consider that theoretical accountant. He would date that person. They sounded well rounded. It was a sensible career, a chill hobby, and a reasonably active lifestyle. What was wrong with that? He frowned to himself. What was Duke even implying??
“I would date that accountant,” Danny reluctantly admitted. He seemed disgruntled about it. “I don't cage fight, sorry to disappoint. You can't imagine how much my sister would kill me if I tried.” 
“It's fine,” Jason reassured, making a mental note of a sister and the potential for quantifiable subsequent deaths. “Me either.” 
He could, though. He thought about it for a moment. He'd kick so much ass. That would be a fun way to give Bruce a heart attack. 
Duke snorted, but thankfully said nothing else. Jason didn't want to hear what Duke thought about his odds in cage fighting. Jason knew what was in his heart and that it was fighting potential. 
The game Duke and Danny settled on was a multiplayer racing game. Jason dutifully tried. His car bounced along and beat out all but one of the computer's characters. He endured two rounds before he bowed out and leaned back to watch the other two trash talk each other. 
Honestly, these games were repetitive and pretty boring. Jason zoned out and stretched. He was laying his arm along the back of the couch before he realized that was a bad idea. 
He froze, forearm just barely brushing against the back of Danny's neck. Danny… didn't seem to care. 
Well. Jason let his arm relax. It was only weird if Danny thought it was weird. 
Duke glanced over out of the corner of his eye and gave Jason a cat-faced smirk. Jason raised his hand just enough to show off his favorite finger. 
“Hey, gimme a min?” Duke said. “I need to use the bathroom.”
Liar. Sneaking liar, Jason thought fondly. He was going to try to spy and see what they did when he left the room. 
Danny hit the pause button and let the controller drop to the sofa. “Yeah, go piss girl,” he drawled. 
Jason cocked his head to the side in confusion.
Duke just laughed, so that must have been some kind of reference. He clambered over the back of the sofa and gave Danny's shoulders a light push on his way past. 
Danny went with the motion and bumped into Jason with a giggle. Jason endured it patiently, bemused but enjoying that they were both happy. 
The bathroom door shut behind Duke. 
Danny leaned further into Jason and contorted his neck at a frankly precarious angle to look up at him. “Are you having fun?” He checked. Danny's ear brushed against Jason's chest in a way that he was hyper aware of. There was line of concern between his eyebrows that Jason kinda wanted to smooth away with a thumb.
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bet-on-me-13 · 9 months
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Ellie wasn't born a Halfa
So! Jason just found something weird. Or rather. Someone.
A little girl, no more than 6 or 7, crying behind a dumpster in an alleyway. Now, as unfortunate as it is, this isn't that strange a sight in Gotham. Kids are always running away from home, getting lost, being left homeless after a mugging gone wrong, but this time was different.
Because the kid was glowing.
When he found her hiding behind the Dumpster, a medical gown being the only thing she had to protect herself from thr frigid Gotham Winter, he didn't hesitate to give her his Jacket and take her to his nearest safe house.
(Actually it took a little while to convince her to accept the Jacket, and even longer to get her to agree to being taken to his safe house, but they got there in the end.)
When he had finally gotten her set up in a side room of the Warehouse, with the most comfortable bed and thickest Blankets he could find, he tried asking what had happened.
"Daddy lied." She said. "He said he loved me, but then he made another kid and said he didn't care about me."
And, once again, it was unfortunately not that uncommon to see runaway kids from neglectful homes, but the way she said it raised some flags in his head.
"...and, how did you end up in Gotham?"
"I ran. He said I was a spare, and that scared me."
Well, that was even more horrible than he had anticipated. What kind of monster tells their kid that they're a spare?!
"And, I'm sorry if this is a touchy subject but why are you glowing?"
She just buried her face in the Blankets and shook her head.
"Alright then, that's fine. You can tell me when you're ready, or even not tell me at all, I'll accept either or".
For the next few weeks, Jason juggled running his newly created criminal empire and raking care of the kid. He still hadn't gotten a name out of her, but she said to call her "Dp" instead. 'It's the best I'm gonna get', he thought.
It was only after a few more weeks, right before he was about to begin his Plan of confronting Bruce about the Joker still being alive, that she approached him and agreed to tell him everything. He was actually really glad that she finally seemed to trust him enough to tell him.
"Okay Dp, you can start wherever you want."
"...well, I guess I should start with my name..." She started, "...or rather, my lack of one..."
"What?" Asked Jason in a soft voice.
"I, I don't have a name." She explained, "Daddy never gave me one. He just called me DP-2."
"...what do you mean by two?" Asked Jason.
"It-It's my Experiment Number." She said, stuttering a little, "I'm not a normal person, I'm a Clone. I was made to be daddy's perfect child, but I was just the test run. He said that I wasn't needed after he made DP-3, and that all I was good for was spare parts."
Jason felt his throat dry up. Dp was a Clone? Of who? Who made her? What right did that guy have to reject her?! Who in their right mind would make a Clone and then reject the Clone?! How dare he!
The Pits perked up
He felt the Pits rising a little, but managed to push them down. Dp needed support, not the Pits.
"It's Okay kid." He said, holding her had reassuringly. "It's perfectly okay to be different. I accept you as you are, and I'm sure as hell not gonna abandon you that easily. Or, ever really. You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not."
She giggled, and hugged him. A thoughtful look crossed her face, and she pulled away.
"There is one other thing...you know how I glow sometimes?" She asked.
The Pits felt a sense of dread
Jason felt like he wasn't going to like this. "Yeah?"
"Well, when I said I was meant to be a Clone, I never mentioned who of." She explained slowly. "He's a kid named Danny, and when he was 14, he had an accident where he died and came back as a Half Undead."
No...
Jason really wasn't liking where this was going.
"When Da-Vlad tried to make me, he realized that those powers couldn't be cloned..." She paused here, seemingly gathering the courage to continue. "...they needed to be added afterwards."
NO.
He didn't. He had better not have, for his own Fucking Sake, he had better not have done what Jason thinks he did.
"So one day, he took he down to the Lab, and he put me in a big machine." He voice broke a little. "He locked me in there, and then I think...that I died..."
...
For once, Jason felt completely in tune with the Pits. He was going to Kill that guy.
...
Sorry if this feels a little rushed, I kept going back to add or change parts of it.
Basically, Vlad realized that you can't Clone a Halfa. So, he made a workaround. He just stuck his first Viable Clone into a Portal, and let the machine Kill her. When he realized that it worked, he knew he had no use for Ellie anymore aside from spare parts.
And he told her as much, Vlad is a fucking asshole.
Ellie, of course, got scared and ran away. She ended up in Gotham, and was adopted by Jason right at the start of his Criminal Career.
When Jason finally hears about the rest of his kids' Backstory, he decides that Batman can wait his turn. He needs to go Kill that Vlad Bastard.
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brucewaynehater101 · 1 month
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Tim with hannaki disease
spending his childhood choking on flowers
Barely able to breathe rejection after rejection
Jason is attacking him at the tower and he can’t stop coughing out flowers
when dick gives Damian Robin, Tim leaves the cave spitting out petals
imagine if he died of suffocation during the Bruce quest
Fuck. I love hanahaki disease.
Tw: death, blood, asphyxiation, fictional disease, dead body description, gore
For those of y'all unaware, it's a completely fictional disease where having unrequited love results in the person growing flowers in their chest. It's usually romantic, but I prefer the platonic versons (especially child-parent angst, holy fuck).
I've seen two types of hanahaki:
The love is actually unrequited
The person only perceives the love as being unrequited
Either way, the progression is as follows:
Person coughs up one petal
They start coughing up more and usually blood
They cough up an entire blossom
They die trying to cough up the entire flower (blossom and stem)
There are four outcomes to hanahaki disease, depending on what rules you are working with:
Love becomes requited
Person dies
They have a surgery to remove their ability to have feelings
They lose (voluntarily or not) their memories about their unrequited love
Some people play with flower meanings of the petals being coughed up. I fucking love those versions so much.
Let's get into the AU! The timeline is mine to fuck around with, so excuse any non-canon progressions.
~~~~
Tim has chronic hanahaki disease from his parents. They visit often enough to quell the worst symptoms and mitigate the damage, but they don't stick around enough (or show enough constant attention) for the petals to go away.
Janet once asked Tim if he'd like to get the surgery. Tim said no. Janet respected that choice and never asked again even though Tim was like nine at the time. It also becomes a fear of his. He wakes up in cold sweat at the phantom idea of just not being able to love anyone. It terrifies him, even if the feeling of asphyxiation is the only other option.
When Janet dies and Tim becomes Robin, he does his best to hide his condition from Bruce. It worsens, from the way Tim adores and loves the Bats, but Tim manages.
It's a rough few years, but slowly, the ice begins to melt. The Waynes show Tim more and more affection. YJ also shower him in so much care to the point that Tim has days of uninterrupted breathing.
It's a novel but welcome feeling.
Jack waking up from the coma complicates shit. His condition worsens again, but it's manageable.
Until Tim's sixteenth birthday.
The teen will never admit, but that test nearly fucking killed him. Bruce never finds out how close he was to killing his Robin, but Tim knows. He'll never forget how thorns scraped along his throat at the idea that he can't trust anyone. He'll never rid himself of the intimate knowledge of how blossoms taste in his mouth and the sickly sweet smell of blood mixed with flower petals.
Tim has to quit Robin, for his safety, health, and as a "fuck you" to Bruce, but realizes he can't keep in contact with Dick, Alfred, or Barbara without it. He can't contact his team.
He has to go back, so he does.
Tim's not sure if it's better or worse that Bruce didn't know about the hanahaki. If the man did, would he still have done the test? Due to him never showing remorse or guilt for his actions, the teen doesn't know.
The question pesters him even when his dad finds out about Robin.
It plagues him through Steph becoming Robin and dying.
It festers into his bones when, while wearing those same damn colors, he hears his father die.
That is one or many reasons "Uncle Eddie" was created.
Tim can't quite trust Bruce, but he finds himself still loving the father-like figure in his life. He finds himself forgiving him. He leans into the hair ruffles, shoulder pats, and gruff words of affection. He lets himself be loved.
Then, an undead asshole in a gleaming red bucket comes to kick Tim's ass. The teen can't help but laugh at the way his life bounces between breathing and dying at the drop of a hat.
He's just barely able to hide the flowers from both Red Hood and the Titans.
A little assassin appears, and each attack brings a petal.
Each new death hampers Tim's ability to breathe. Tim tries, but it's so fucking hard. How is he supposed to live without them?
With the ticklish scrape of petals, Tim doesn't think he's supposed to.
Bruce isn't dead. Tim knows, with every fiber of his being, that Bruce can't be dead. Tim won't survive if he is.
Even if Tim loses everything, even if these damn fucking flowers consume him, at least his death will have a purpose.
That's what he tells himself as he lies in a pool of blood beneath the stars. The sand at his back is soft in comparison to the stem piercing his throat and tongue. The sound of his choking is joined by the bubbling wheezing of Pru.
Ra's peers down at the body already set with rigor mortis. Tim's jaw is pried apart by a bouquet of yellow carnations dripping in blood.
The demon head hums at the sight, a dangerous gleam to his eyes. With the flick of a hand, two assassins grab the young detective's corpse. The other three bodies are taken as well.
Tim's eyes fling open as the teen gasps for air.
It's wrong. It's wrong. It's all wrong. He's empty.
He's surrounded in green.
Oh fuck.
For awhile, Tim just soaks in the soft expansion of his lungs. He marvels at their capability.
He can't remember a time when he's been able to breathe so easily. It's enchanting and allots the teen a giddy sort of relief.
Through the destruction of both the Spiders and the LoA, he finds himself taking small moments to just breathe. It's a simple joy he can't help but partake in.
Tim logically knows there's a price. His breaths cost him, though he doesn't know their price. He should be dead and buried within the flowers.
He is neither.
He is alive. He is free (from the petals. It takes him a little bit to become free of Ra's).
Tim brushes aside these valid and alarming concerns to focus on his goals: escape, take down Ra's, and derail whatever retaliation occurs.
So that's what Tim does. He ignores the insistent sense of wrongness and focuses on the task at hand. He coordinates his friends and family. He faces down Ra's. He gets kicked out of a window.
With a grim smile, his body goes lax and his eyes flutter shut
He's done.
When Tim springs up from unconsciousness, Steph's voice reassures him he's safe. She tells him he's in the batcave.
The tension to bleeds from his body as Damian mutters a demand. Tim's eyes dart from Robin to Batgirl to Batman (Dick) to Alfred.
That sinking feeling of wrongness returns.
Dick's eyes are trained on the teen as he asks Tim, "How did you know I'll be there to save you?"
It's obvious the man is worried. It's obvious he's so fucking glad he caught his younger brother.
The lie falls from Tim's lips as smooth as any truth, "You're my brother, Dick. You'll always be there for me."
Dick's face brightens with fond relief.
Tim watches. He observes the reactions of his older brother. He catalogs the effect of his words on the man he's admired and loved for thirteen years.
He notes all of this.
And he feels nothing.
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k2ntoss · 3 months
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Like...
Jason makes love and just fuck rough just sometimes... but he loves making love, not just a thing to pleasure, but for the feeling, for loving his girl... it's a intimacy thing...
I don't he him as a abuser... a guy that don't ask for permission even if it's just a look in her eyes
Sorry for felling up ur inbox with my sad and horrified ass
Love u!
MORE THAN YOU KNOW !! JASON TODD
request for this pretty girl and for me happy 3 months after my concert i'm emotional and too attached to that event i'm not even sorry!!!
t/w ⭒ SMUT!!! a little bit of angst and so but mostly some kind of fluffy smut and also... john constantine's sidekick!reader, i'm not even sorry but i have to do this
word count ⭒ don't know i've slept like 4 hours in two days so here you have this made with love and pouring my raw feelings on it
song ⭒ more than you know - blink-182
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things had always been a little harder for jason, after all that's what he always expects from life so the punches sometimes hurt less but there's always something or someone that holds the power to make everything hurt worse than hell. how can he explain it? if he has always struggled with his feelings, after being left down over and over again he built walls to protect himself and pushed away whoever tried to come closer.
he didn't knew if he had to curse or thank for the day he met you. little cocky bastard that somehow connected with him from the very start, that understood him on a level that scared jason to death but he would never say it out loud, that would let you grip his throat and leave him helpless because his heart was open wide for you.
it was sad you didn't knew it and he didn't knew either if you felt the same things for him. he knew you would be there for him and so would he do for you, jason knew he had everything he lacked in your presence. you made him feel things he had never voiced because he didn't knew why and the day you started to find the way to voice the things you had bottled up he felt a little left behind.
"i- look, it's hard but i have to grow a pair and say it, jay... i want us to be different, to work a little more on whatever we are because i feel like i need more and more from you and honestly it scares me more than anything" the sudden confession feels alien for you, jason feels like he has been kicked in the face because this is not what he had expected. you always hid yourself underneath halfhearted confessions, never your real deep feelings.
"what do you mean?" the question slips past his lips before he can really think about it and the small flash of disappointment that crosses your face makes his chest ache. how can he put his words out for you? it's almost impossible to see himself saying it outloud, it was a sickening need to protect himself even if he knew you could never hurt him.
"i mean... i don't really feel like i know what you feel for me, i feel like i've been left with nothing at it freaks me out to feel you can leave me to die if i ever lose you" the words from your mouth now sound strained and realization downs on him. it's heavy, the knowledge that you felt the same fear he felt, the way you had let him hold youe life on his hands until the point that losing him would shatter you to pieces.
the lump on his throat subsided, the way you had finally voiced your fear made jason find his own grasp on what he felt. he felt like he had been cursed, his life was a constant fall as if he was sinking like a rock but there was also something else when you were around and even if neither of you had ever said it the feeling was there, deep and rooted in your hearts and it was too hard to say it out loud, love wasn't something you had ever experienced in conventional ways during life.
"why do you poison yourself with the thought i won't love you to death?" the question slip with an ease he had never felt before and the surprise in your face made it all worthy. it wasn't just giving you the power to burn him to ashes, it was giving himself the permission to lean on you, to indulge him to have a ray of light even if he sunk down further "i know i've never said it before, i've never told you how i really feel but trust me it's more than you'd ever know"
he had reached to you, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair out of your face as he leaned closer to press a soft kiss to the corner of your lips. the contact was so simple and light but yet so intimate it made you close your eyes, his hand hovering over your jaw before settling on the side of your neck as you closed your eyes.
"i feel like i shouldn't be trying at all, jay... but i just know i need you with me" your whisper made him sigh and it was all he needed to hear. his lips pressed against yours in a slow and deep kiss, jason cupping your face tenderly as you held onto his shoulders while leaning in across the distance between you in the small couch on jason's safe house.
the tender touch of his calloused hands against your face was a stark contrast, to wounded souls merging into one as he caressed your sides slowly pulling you closer to him. drinking you in like a man starving because he was giving in to you. the weight of your body making him aware of the fact that he had pulled you into his lap and breaking the kiss he looked up at you with adoration.
"can i...?" he asked, trailing off as he saw the same resolve in your eyes. you were just giving in to him, letting yourself be totally vulnerable for him to either take care of you or destroy you completely. that same resolve and trust made jason decide he would always protect you, even from himself even if it meant changing his whole being because he knew it was the least he could do for the person that was willing to do the same for him.
a silent nod from you was enough. his hands wandering across your body to free your figure from the fabric of your clothes, his eyes taking in every detail as his hands caressed every dip and curve of your body, your hands doing the very same on him as your lips lavished his neck, jaw and shoulders with tender and lingering kisses.
jason held your waist, slowly picking you up as he kissed your neck while walking to his room in long strides filled with purpose until he was able to lay you down, placing you gently on his bed and looking down at you with adoration and need. he knelt on the bed, his large frame hovering over yours as he leaned in to kiss a trail from your neck down to the middle of your chest, feeling your hands on the back of his head.
words weren't needed, the way jason looked at you as he settled between your legs was everything you needed to know what he felt and thought, the absolute trust he was putting on you mirroing yours. it was the first time he felt sure he wouldn't be betrayed or disappointed by someone he felt he needed as much as he needed air.
"jay..." the murmured call of his name that left your lips made jason shudder and he looked up as his hands caressed your waist and stomach softly, soothing and worshipping you.
"y/n..." he whispered back, moving until his face was next to yours and he pressed a soft kiss to your temple "are you sure?" the question was soft and even if he felt like he couldn't resist it another second without feeling you around him he held back. wanting to make this as special as he could.
"i'm sure" you whispered against his jaw, lips ghosting over his skin and with that confirmation he kissed your lips firmly as he sunk into you, a slow and steady stroke to settle between your warm walls. the overwhelming feeling stronger because of all the feelings poured in your words.
a low growl escaped his throat, his face hidden against your neck as you held onto his shoulders, face nuzzled into his hair as a low and soft moan escaped your lips at the first jerk of his hips. the pace was gentle and passionate, his lips peppering your shoulders in kisses and soft nibbles as your nails drew patterns on his back.
the breathless moans and grunst filling the room slowly turned into needy whimpers and low groans as jason picked up the pace, his hands gripping your waist and even if everything got more heated there was still that look of adoration on jason as he looked down at you.
and just like before. words weren't needed, all the feelings that had been poured at the start were loud and clear in the way jason let go off your wais to hold your hands, your legs wrapped around his hips as your fingers intertwined, gasps and soft kisses between each stroke that made his hips snap against yours until your body tensed.
he looked down at you again, leaning in to press a kiss to each of your closed eyes and then on your forehead and one deep thrust made you crumble apart underneath him. your body clenching around his as you moaned loudly made jason groan "jason!" and the sound of your voice was enough, his grip on your hands tightening.
a low growl of your name was all you heard in the moment he reached his own peak, his release spilled inside you in a jerk of his hips against you and the intensity of it all made you whimper silently against his chest.
"i love you, jay..." you whispered as he released your hands, his arms moving to wrap around your waist as you hugged his neck tightly and he chuckled tenderly.
"i love you too..." he muttered. days ago he would have said he didn't had highs but he had some lows but having you was definetly a high. he belonged there, right into your arms.
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flamingpudding · 17 days
Text
(Un)fortunate Courting (Request)
Requested by @silverblueglitter
Original Prompt Post this is based on by @diabolichare
A/N: Thank you for the request! I hope this will not disappoint. I am slowly getting back into the grove of writing and out of my block. Also on a side note I am not posting / writing as much right now because work is currently keeping me busy.
Danny was very sure he was doing everything right in regards to ghost culture. Clockwork and Pandora had been educating him very well on that. Sure they did it with some ominous explanation in regards to his future but Danny had shrugged that off. Clockwork had always had a way with words that didn't make sense but somehow did too. Now as he had learned if a ghost wants to cross through another ghosts haunt an offering needs to be made. Ideally the offering is in regards to something the other ghosts likes.
So if he would need, for example, cross through Embers haunt, he would offer her something like guitar strings or something other music related stuff that could be useful to her obsession. With that logic, Danny knew that if he wanted to use the short cut to his collage through Red Hoods haunt he would need to offer the other something. Like he had offered something to Lady Gotham for his stay in Gotham for his collage education. The thing was he would have to offer Red Hood something every time he needed to go through the others haunt, unlike with Lady Gotham who had just accepted a single offer since he wasn't constantly going in and out of her haunt.
But that also left him with what to get the other Halfa as offering.
He had contemplated offering something Red Hood might need for his duty. You know? Maybe some self engineered bullets he could use against ghosts, though Danny knew that was probably unnecessary considering Gotham's protector spirit, Lady Gotham, had a pretty good handle on everything here. Which good, because that meant Danny could fully focused on his studies for once.
That was until Danny realized how much the core of that other Halfa was malnourished. Which gave Danny the perfect chance to catch two ghosts with one thermos, okay bad joke. But seriously, that gave Danny an idea of what to offer for his right of passage through the others haunt. So he made simple care packages that would help the other Halfa. He had thought about supplying some Ecto-Dejecto directly but that felt a little to on the nose and someone who didn't know his family would probably think Danny insane, as if there weren't enough people in his collage thinking that already. Besides he was in Gotham and with villains like Scarecrow and Joker he didn't think a syringe with glowing green contents would be a trustworthy offering.
Anyway, Danny decided to be a bit more discreet, infusing ectoplasm into simple foods, that most importantly, COULD NOT COME ALIVE. So Danny's care packaged ended up consisting of chocolates, snacks and other sweets that would NOT start fighting back. He also figured out how to mix ectoplasm into drinks so it wouldn't taste to overwhelming.
Danny did not anticipate the side effect offerings like that would have or realise what his offerings looked like to someone who did not know about ghost culture.
Jason was torn as he found the n-ed little present box during his patrol route with a little card stating it was for him. He eyed the box having gotten familiar with these boxes over the past month. He lifted the lid and yep.... chocolates.
"Again?" his distorted voice came through his voice modulator as he eyed the chocolates suspiciously. Either he had a very insistent admirer or one of his enemies cooked up a new idea to make him paranoid. Not like his brothers didn't joke about him getting Bruce's paranoia when he had run the sixth box of chocolates through the substance tester to figure out if someone was trying to poison him.
Turned out poison was not in the chocolates but something else. An unknown substance but in small dosages. Jason was currently allowing Tim to run wild in figuring out what was mixed into the chocolates. Also the seasoned vigilante had to admit, that there was something tempting about these sweets. Like something inside him really urged him to eat them. It was only his self-restraint and discipline that helped him resist the urge to taste test some of these chocolates.
Also sometimes there were drink in these packages too. Yes, Jason had run them through the tester too and got the same results like with the sweets and chocolates. No poison but that other strange substance. At first Jason didn't really want to bother with it but these boxes appeared every damn night when he was on patrol, but strangle not on weekend or holidays.
"Oh got another little present, Little Wing!" Jason barely turned around as his older brother dropped onto the roof next to him. "Chocolates this time! How cute! They must really love you!"
Sometimes Jason wished his helmet could portray emotions better as he gave Dick a deadpan stare. "More like wanting to poison me." He muttered his voice changer doing nothing to support the sarcasm in his voice.
"You have to admit it is kind of cute! You have a little fan or admirer! And look these chocolates are even heart shaped! Oh and pralines are in there too!" Dick gushed on about Jason's admirer, while Jason rolled his eyes under his helmet. It would be cute if there wasn't an unknown substance mixed into the stuff left for him. Though he had to admit, whoever left that stuff was getting creative. From what Jason saw they rarely used the same brand of chocolates or sweets to give to him twice. Like they were trying to figure out what he liked. For a brief moment that made Jason wonder, if he actually ate one of these for once, would his admirer present him with the same brand again the next night?
He shock that thought off, no way was he going to eat something with an unknown substance in it. So instead he shoved the box at Dick. "Take that to the cave Dickibird. Gives Pretender more materials to test with."
Dick, to his credit stopped gushing for at that and chuckled. "Can do, but seriously though, what did Oracle say. Did she catch your little admirer on the security cameras at least."
Shaking his head Jason let out a sigh. "No, its like these boxes appear out of nowhere."
"Well at least they are harmless."
"For now." He grunted in response. While they didn't pose a danger, Jason didn't like the implications behind their appearances. For one no matter how much he changed up his patrol routes, these boxes would still appear. There is no video proof of someone placing the boxes. They just appear out of thin air or roofs or his path right when he comes by. If he could believe that the videos that Barbara had showed him weren't manipulated then they just appeared like a couple of seconds before he would find them.
It was suspicious and Jason was determined to find out who leaves them.
Danny hummed his latest earworm song, which happed to be Embers newest hit in the Ghost Zone, as he prepared his next offering to Red Hood. He had thought about leaving these boxes by Red Hoods Safe house during the day on his way to collage but he figured with his own history of being a hero. Secret identities were important and should not be revealed against the others wish.
This time he had gotten the expensive brand of pralines. He hoped Hood would actually like them and eat them hopefully. Danny threaded the moment he would have to try infusing ectoplasm into something other than safe sweets, chocolates and snacks that won't come alive if he didn't find something Hood would eat soon.
The Halfa was so focused on his task of infusing the pralines with ectoplasm that he did not notice the arrival of three of his old ghost rogues, until he got grapped by the collar and throw across his own appartment.
"OW! What the...?!"
"Long Time not seen Pelt." Danny blinked as Skulker stood over him, Ember and Wulf a bit further behind. Wulfs presence explained how the other two managed to show up in his place.
"What are you guys doing here?" He was so not up for a round of ghost body that could potentially destroy his flat.
"Fixing your love life." Ember grinned down at him with Wulf nodding.
"My love life...." Something was definitely wrong. Danny does not remember currently dating anyone. He also didn't have crush, well not a obvious one he thought at least. He was distinctively pushing way that fleeting image of Red Hood out of his mind.
"Yeas your love life Baby Boop." Ember reaffirmed. "Didn't the old ghosts teach you anything. You don't use the human of giving presents when you court a ghost!"
"I... what?" Danny's brain currently really had trouble catching up with what was going on.
"Pelt you need to assert yourself, fight your damn object of attention to proof your worth." Skulker added arms crossed.
"Don't worry we will help you! So you wont fail!" Ember added.
Before Danny could answer or ask what the hell they were going on about though Skulker grabbed him by the back of his collar again and promptly dragged Danny long with him flying out of his flat to who knows where. Distinctive Danny swore he heard laughing that sounded suspiciously like Lady Gotham.
"WAIT SKULKER!" The shout escaped him as his brain finally caught up but before he could go ghost and actually do something he was thrown against someone. Whoever he landed on let out a deep 'oof' that sounded distorted and Danny had a sinking feeling as he hurriedly sat up and came face to face with Red Hood.
"Aw shit...." Danny muttered instantly choosing to turn invisible and hoping that Red Hood had nod seen him long enough to get recognised, worst of all Skulker had dragged him all the way to Hoods haunt when Danny didn't even have an offering! Now he owned Hood two offerings!
"What are you doing Pelt! You are supposed to challenge for the right of courtship first! The courtship presents come later!" Skulker shouted at Danny to which while still invisible Danny choose to flip the other ghost off. Something he would have never done as teen but now that he had come to some sort of understanding with his former rogues was not rare happening, as long as Jazz wasn't there to witness it.
Meanwhile Jason was sitting utterly confused on the roof now, just a moment ago a twig of a man had landed on him and he had seen the other guy for a brief moment before he had disappeared out of nowhere again. He grumbled muttered curses and knew he would have to go though the video footage of his helmet to get a clearer picture of what or rather who had knocked him over.
But he had a feeling it was related to the boxes of sweets and chocolates.
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sanguineterrain · 5 months
Note
Sanne can we get a part 2 for reporter!reader?? Picking up where it first left off their first night in the same home - and there's only 1 bed! - and reader shares the bed with him with the promise of not looking at his unmasked face in the middle of the night? And like them realizing over the next few days that they have very similar habits like tendencies to work throughout the night once they've got a lead and not having a set sleep schedule/unconventional sleeping hours.
OKAY HERE WE GO! be fed my lovelies <3 didn't exactly do one bed but hopefully you like it anyway ;) pt 2 of this
jason todd x gn!reporter!reader. nightmares, hurt/comfort, jason sexy mf todd being a domestic dreamboat. 2.4k. pls enjoy
****
The Red Hood's apartment is... not at all what you expected.
It looks lived in. It, as awful a thought as it is, looks like an actual person lives here.
And it's not that you didn't know that Hood has a life outside of shooting and scaring, but the giant ficus and the overstuffed bookshelf seem paradoxical to everything you know about Hood.
You're realizing that you don't know him at all.
"So, uh." Hood awkwardly gestures to the apartment. "This is it. Welcome."
"It's nice," you say, stepping over the threshold. "Really nice. I'm a little jealous, Red."
"What can I say? Being public enemy number one is surprisingly lucrative."
You wander to the kitchen. There's a picture of him and a red-headed masked man who looks vaguely familiar. The man is smiling, his arm around Hood. There's a city skyline behind them you don't recognize.
"Where's that?" you ask. You don't expect him to answer.
"Morocco."
"I didn't know you had friends," you say, studying the Welcome to Vegas! magnet that's holding up the picture.
"Ouch."
"No, I—" You turn, shaking your head. "Sorry, no. I meant, like, people you do fun things with."
"Mm, yeah, I know what a friend is."
"Red, you know what I mean. I didn't know you took selfies and kept plants and read."
"Thought I was friendless and illiterate, huh?" He leans against the kitchen table, fist tucked under his helmet. "Y'wouldn't be the first."
"Hood—"
He snorts, shoulders shaking. You stop.
"That's not funny," you say, rolling your eyes. "Jerk."
"It's a little funny. You're always so sharp with your words, smartypants. No, while I'm very literate, friends are admittedly far and few. Arsenal's my closest friend."
"Is he also a crime lord?"
"Nah. Way better guy than me."
You look back at the picture and wonder how often Hood gets to experience joy. And when was the last time he had a vacation?
You feel a gentle tug at the back of your jacket.
"C'mon. You can snoop more later, promise. Lemme show you your room."
Hood takes your suitcase before you can protest. You follow him down the hall. There's one door to the bathroom—the other is to a single bedroom.
The bedroom is nice, bigger than yours at home. It's sort of what you expected (i.e., the mounted katanas on the wall) but also not (a giant framed poster of the 2005 Pride and Prejudice film).
Holy hell. You're in the Red Hood's bedroom.
"Hood, I can't sleep here," you say, watching as he puts your suitcase in the corner.
The bed has been made, sheets tucked in without a single wrinkle. They're in various shades of red. You're sure Hood thinks he's hilarious.
"Why? If the swords are putting you off, I can move 'em."
"No, it's—I can't take your room, Hood. There's no way I'm doing that."
He shakes his head. "No, trust me, it's for the best. That couch is only comfortable to sleep on after a dose of painkillers."
"Dude, I am not making you sleep on the couch in your own house."
"Well, dude, I'm the host, and I'm the big and scary Red Hood, so what I say goes."
"Like either one of us actually believes that," you say, brushing past him to grab your suitcase. "I'm not kicking you out of your bed. It's–it's very sweet of you to offer. But you physically exert yourself every day. You need a comfortable bed more than I do. Besides, it's not like I'll be here for long."
Hood steps in front of you, casually blocking your exit.
"Well, try this on for size: my room is more secure than my living room," he says. "If someone were to break in, they'd have to get through me out there first."
That... is, unfortunately, a good point. You're still extremely paranoid after the assassination attempt two nights ago.
"You're so manipulative, y'know that?" you grumble, leaving your suitcase where it is.
"I know. I come from a real fucked up family." He doesn't sound too put out by it.
"But if you get injured on patrol, I'm sleeping on the couch."
He pats your shoulder. "'S cute you think you can bargain in my house, smarty."
****
Dinner goes well. Hood makes beef bolognese and it's delicious. You take an extra long time in the bathroom before bed so Hood has enough time to eat, considering his refusal to remove his helmet. You'd offered to blindfold yourself—he'd just laughed.
"Sure you don't want your room? It is, after all, yours," you say when you come out, fresh from your shower.
Hood glances at you briefly from where he's washing dishes. He's out of his jacket and suit, now only in jeans and a white t-shirt. Your face feels hot for some reason.
"I'm sure. Cute robe."
"Oh." You look down at the Wonder Woman robe your friend gave you. "Thanks. Got it for my birthday."
"I'll have to get myself one too," Hood says, drying a glass with a polka dot tea towel. "Big Wonder Woman fan."
"Yeah? We solve this case, and I'll get you all the robes you want, Red."
"Tempting."
You chew your lip as you watch him clean up. "Want any help?"
"Go to sleep, star reporter." He sounds amused.
"You try to be a polite guest only to get shot down..." you mumble.
On your way to Hood's room, you get distracted by a pile of documents on the coffee table. You stop, picking up the corner to read one. They're about the case, about all the labs that might be involved in the experiments.
Well... you can read just one. It seems like Hood's compiled a lot of information on his own.
You stand for a bit until your legs grow tired. Then you sit on the couch, making notes of what you do and don't know on a nearby writing pad.
"Did you get lost?"
Hood's watching you, leaning against the wall. It's weird to see his bare arms. His very sculpted, muscled arms. You think you peek a tattoo on his bicep.
"My attention was caught," you say, unrepentant. "Anyway, there's a lot of stuff I haven't seen. You've been holding out on me, Red."
"'S just theories, mostly. Didn't feel it was relevant to mention without hard proof."
"Ever hear of a work-life balance?" you ask.
Hood walks over and joins you on the couch, making the cushion dip. You bump shoulders briefly, before you move.
"Look who's talking, Pulitzer prize," he says.
"That's a very reasonable goal, and I'm not obsessed with it. You're just a workaholic. I have activities outside of wo—oh my God, work!"
You shoot up from the couch, panicked. "Fuck. Fuck! I haven't shown up in two days! I'm—"
"Hey, easy," Hood says, propping his socked feet up on the coffee table. "I called you out. Said you had the flu. No biggie."
"How did you call me out?"
He shrugs. "Pretended to be your boyfriend. Girl on the line was kinda rude about it. Didn't believe me at first."
"Red, I believe we've talked about these invasions of privacy."
"I'm just fulfilling my host duties. Is it true you haven't taken a day off in two years?"
You sigh. "Yes, okay? Fine. I'm a workaholic, too. That's why Jane, the secretary you spoke to, was so sassy about my having a boyfriend. It's pretty unbelievable."
"That's ridiculous. You could totally get a boyfriend. Some guys don't mind that."
"Like you?"
Hood tilts his head in acknowledgment. "Sure. Like me."
"Yeah, well, you're not exactly most men."
"And thank God for that."
You look at each other for another moment. Hood's tattoo is in clear view now: it's a bird surrounded by flowers. You can't tell the species of either one.
"Cool tattoo," you say, your tongue feeling too big for your mouth.
Hood turns his arm so the ink is hidden. "Thanks."
"Right." You start to walk backwards. "I think... I'm gonna go to bed."
"Sure," he says. "If y'need anything, holler."
"'Kay. Thank you for dinner. You're a great cook."
"You flatterer."
You smile. "Gotta stay in the Red Hood's good graces."
You start to walk away.
"Do you—waffles?"
You stop and turn. "Sorry?"
"I, uh... do you like waffles? For breakfast," he says. He rubs his thumb and forefinger together. Nervous habit.
"I love waffles for breakfast."
Hood nods. "Great. Good. Then I'll... we'll have those."
"Please don't wake up early just to make breakfast, Red."
"You're my guest. I'll do whatever I want."
You don't recall the prospect of waffles ever making your heart hammer in your chest. Weird.
"Right. Well, goodnight," you say.
"G'night, smarty."
****
You turn the case details in your mind over and over. It's better than thinking about beef bolognese and peeks of skin you shouldn't see and how Hood's sheets smell like lavender.
But you fall asleep thinking about robins. You don't know why. You can't recall ever seeing a robin in Gotham.
You're on a rooftop. It's the roof you met Hood on, all those months ago. There's a robin nesting with its babies on the crumbling bricks.
The sky is a sick shade of green. You see horrible faces in the shadows on the roof.
That face from the night of the attack returns. He's hideous. You remember the stench of his breath, the way his eyes bulged. He grins at you across the roof.
"He should've killed me when he had the chance," he says, voice distorted.
You look around. The robin is gone. Blood drips from your stomach.
You turn and your attacker is there, inches away. He plunges the knife into you again and again. You can't move. This is it. You will die.
You wake up to wet cheeks. You're hot, and you're screaming. You've died.
A cool, rough hand grabs your arm and you fight because you can't die, you won't die. Not today.
"Hey. Hey, hey! It's me, 's J—Hood. It's Hood."
The room is almost entirely dark, save for a sliver of light from the cracked curtains. You can't make out his face. His voice is different. Clearer. He's without his helmet.
You reach out and feel soft hair. The curve of a neck. A bicep. A warm, bare chest.
"Sure, honey. Cop a feel if that makes you feel better," he murmurs.
Your face screws up and you start to cry.
"Shit," Hood whispers. "Shit, shit. Can't get the comforting thing right, can I?"
The bed dips with his weight. Arms wrap around you. You launch yourself into those arms, that solid chest.
"He g-got me in the dream," you choke out. "He killed us, Red. I'm so scared."
"Nobody's getting me or you. I promise."
Hood's jaw is smooth. His hands are big on your back, rubbing circles. His bare knee bumps yours.
You clutch him tighter. He hums.
"'S okay," he says. "It's alright. I got ya. He can't hurt you. I'd tear apart anyone who tries."
He lets you cry for several minutes, petting you all the while. Hood's body is warm, almost unnaturally so, but his hands are cool. He engulfs you completely.
You wonder what color his hair is. His eyes. What shape his nose is. His... lips.
"God, I'm a terrible guest," you mumble after you've caught your breath. "Fuck. I'm so sorry to wake you."
He hums, the sound going through your chest. "Don't worry. I don't sleep much. And you're not the worst guest I've had. My brother stayed with me for a few days last month. That was hell."
"You have a brother?"
"Four, actually. And a sister."
"Wow. Do they know you're...?"
"Yeah. It was a whole thing. They're over it now."
"Cool family."
Hood grunts. "They're... something."
You smile and close your eyes. "You're not who I thought you were, Red."
"Yes, I know. Friendless and illiterate."
You pinch his side. He clucks his tongue in response.
"Cheeky," he says, the gravel in his voice shooting down your spine like lightning.
You pull back, suddenly aware of how long you've been touching him. Hood lets you have your space, scooting to the edge of the bed.
"You know what I mean," you say, glad it's dark and Hood can't see your wide eyes. "Not like that."
"I know. You thought I was a monster, ugly and alone, sleeping in a cave."
Blindly, you reach for his face, feel the shape of his jaw, his chin.
"Doesn't feel like an ugly face to me," you say quietly.
He exhales like you punched the air out of him.
"Trust me," he says. "The dark hides a lot."
You frown and pull away. "I didn't think any of those things, Red. I thought... I thought you were one-track minded. Now I realize that you're probably better adjusted than I am."
"Oh no, I got issues. Believe me. Definitely more than you. Not that it's a competition. 'Cept if it was, I'd win."
You smile. "Title is all yours, big guy. Gotta be a little crazy to do what we do."
"Sure. But you're the bravest soul I know. 'Cause you weren't forced into this. You hunted down the story yourself."
"Brave or stupid?" you ask.
"Brave. But it's a fine line."
Nope. It's definitely more stupid than not, clinging to the Red Hood in his own bed in the name of a case.
What are you doing?
"Ah, anyway." The bed shifts as Hood stands. You can just barely make out the shape of him. "You probably won't be going back to sleep any time soon, huh?"
You sigh. "No, probably not. Please feel free to take back your bed."
"Nice try. You, uh... like hot chocolate?"
"Oh. Yes, I do. But you don't have to do that."
"I've been awake," he says. "No trouble. C'mon."
Hood walks to the door and opens it. Light spills out and for a moment, you have a clear view of his back.
His hair is dark and wavy. His back is covered in silver scars and fresh bruises, broad and muscled. You can see the tendons shift as he walks out.
The Red Hood is a man. Made of flesh and blood. Carved, more like.
Your belly flutters. Fuck.
This is no longer just you working a case. And you're about as far from an informant as anyone can be.
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incorrectbatfam · 10 months
Text
What your LEAST favorite batfam member says about you
Dick Grayson: You think life is over and people become shriveled-up hags at 30
Jason Todd: You're an Arrowfam stan
Tim Drake: Your favorite Robin is either Jason or Damian
Damian Wayne: You call children "crotch goblins"
Duke Thomas: You own something from your childhood that would be worth a lot of money now had you not taken it out of the original packing
Cullen Row: You've spent a lot of your early teens struggling to accept your identity and in doing so behaved like a douche on Roblox
Stephanie Brown: You created a TikTok to make fun of TikTokers but that doesn't change the fact that you're still on TikTok
Cassandra Cain: You were weirded out by the alt kids in school only to realize later in life they had more courage than you by expressing themselves without caring about what others think
Barbara Gordon: You had a college reading level in 6th grade that stopped mattering once you entered college where everyone was the same as you and you're still salty about it
Harper Row: Your parents didn't let you dye your hair
Carrie Kelley: You had an unhealthy relationship with a stranger on Discord where you learned the meaning of gaslighting firsthand
Kate Kane: You didn't like the Barbie movie
Helena Bertinelli: You had a crush on someone who was way out of your league but took a shot anyway and they rejected you and now every time you see someone pretty you seethe with envy
Luke Fox: You think you can take a grizzly bear in a fight when your only hobby is watching Twitch streamers and eating cool ranch Doritos
Bette Kane: You had a Wattpad Mary Sue self-insert who had all the members of One Direction falling for her and was a vampire wizard demigod that won the Hunger Games but that's a secret you plan on taking to your grave
Alfred Pennyworth: Britain fucked over your country
Selina Kyle: You know a lot about sex for someone who hasn't even gone on a date
Bruce Wayne: You stand by your guns when you say eat the rich and don't make exceptions for the "wholesome" billionaires
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