#Tim Drake/reader

[mostly-imagines]

La Vie en Rose

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason wildly preferring you over everyone else

4 in 1 blurbs

warnings: standard batfam arguing etc.

You sit curled up embarrassingly close to Jason on the couch, head on his shoulder. The team is still in their gear as they filter into the living room, masks and helmets discarded in scattered locations between here and the cave. The mission had been fairly simple and with all of them together it only took a couple hours to finish up.

As you waited, Alfred had kept your mind busy in the kitchen while he taught you how he makes his famous ice cream from scratch.

The clamor of the heroic party’s return had made itself known sooner than later, and you think your face must have displayed your emotions nicely because Alfred nodded you away with a small smile and no second thought.

You’d walked into the living room, weaving through the mess of siblings until a hand snuck out on your left and grabbed your wrist. You barely had time to look at him before Jason pulled you down to sit next him on the sofa. He wrapped an arm over your shoulder, pulling you in and leaving virtually no space between you. His armor sits heavy against you, but a welcome weight on your shoulders.

Tim plops down on the couch across from you and you can just make out a bit of blood on the side of his head, aptly accompanied by an irritated look sprawled across his face. It’s not enough blood to be concerned about—not for them—but you can venture a guess that whatever they were up to shouldn’t have called for any injuries and his pique is likely directly related to that.

Though Dick’s goading aura might have something to do with it too, as he comes crashing down next to him a second later, partially sitting on Tim’s cape and pulling him into an awkward angle. 

Nightwing doesn’t seem too perturbed by the younger vigilante’s agitation and curt manner of pushing him off.

The others are too caught up in chatter to pay much attention to you, and you can be certain that’s why Jason takes that moment to press a kiss to the side of your head. He lets his lips linger there for just a second as you lean into him.

Alfred’s own entrance is the only thing able to subside the flurry of conversations skirting around the room.

“A job well done,” he commends with a nod. “A selection of ice creams awaits you in the kitchen.”

He gives you a sly wink before retreating back through the swinging door, leaving Stephanie and Cass to practically trip over themselves trying to beat each other to the kitchen. Robin follows after unhurried, mask still on, with his hands behind his back.

Jason kneads your thigh before pushing himself up to stand. He turns back, looking down to you. “What do you want?” he asks softly.

You hum, "Just strawberry's good."

Tim sits up, "Can I—”

"No, you've got legs,” Jason grumbles, stalking off to the kitchen.

Dick barks out a laugh and you bite back a smile.

Tim looks absolutely aghast. 

“That’s such bullshit. You know, he used to be nice.”

“No he didn’t,” Dick laughs, shaking his head. “Not since you’ve known him.”

Stephanie stumbles out of the kitchen then, the door hitting her back on the way, as she mutters a curse behind her. You can vaguely makeout Jason grunting something back before she rolls her eyes.

Steph looks at you, shaking her head as she returns to her seat, “You live like this?”

You shrug, “He’s nice to me.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Tim grumbles.

Jason returns after Cass a minute later with a bowl of strawberry ice cream and two spoons. He expertly ignores Tim’s unwavering glare as he resituates himself beside you.

He scoops your legs up over his lap and positions the bowl in between you, wrapping the sleeve of his jacket around it so that the cold porcelain doesn’t make contact with your skin.

The others have set themselves up so that the four of them are stuffed up against each other on the sofa adjacent to you, very obviously examining you both. 

And while you’re willing to acknowledge the amused stares and singular glare, Jason only sighs heavily, rolling his eyes as he glares at the coffee table.

Only a few seconds of this are allowed to go by before he pulls over a throw pillow and sets it over your knees, so that it rests atop your heads like a mini-fort, successfully blocking out his siblings' view of the two of you.

You smile and press a light kiss to his shoulder as he simmers.

Regrettably, you miss the way Damian side-eyes the pillow above you as he re-enters the room, perching himself atop the back of the couch behind the others.

“This is so nice,” Dick preens. “He used to just leave the room when too many of us gathered in one place. Now he has to stay.”

Stephanie watches the makeshift fort with wary eyes, scooping ice cream into her mouth. “Yeah…I don’t wanna freak you guys out but, uh…”

It’s quiet for a moment and you guess Cass is speaking. 

You’re proven right when Stephanie starts up again, “My thoughts exactly.” Her voice drops into a raspy whisper that isn’t really meant to go unheard, “I don’t know who the hell that is, but it is not Jason.” 

“This is unprecedented,” Damian mumbles, dipping into his own chocolate cup.

“Do they always talk about you like you’re not here?” you ask Jason quietly. 

“Yes,” he grumbles with a scornful look directed at the bowl.

A low hiss can be heard immediately after, “I’ve never heard him whisper before, what the fuck?”

You can’t hide your laugh as well as you mean to, but you know Jason’s light swat to your thigh is nothing more than a rib.

Mumbles continue along the other couch, mostly going unacknowledged, until Tim busts out, “He doesn’t even like strawberry!”

Jason snaps the pillow out of the way, “The fuck do you know about what I like?”

Tim resets his posture with one hell of an attitude, snarking, “Well I can name one thing you really seem to fucking—”

Jason grabs the pillow harshly and chucks it at Tims head which connects with a loud thwack.

Damian swats it away before it can knock him off balance, though his scowl is only half worth what Tim’s is. 

“You’re unbelievable,” he says with a sneer. “This is why you don’t get invited to movie night anymore.”

Jason doubles back at him, “Sorry, is this not your own fucking house?”

Tim huffs, “Yes, which i—”

“Then get your own goddamn ice cream!”

Tim huffs as he stands, sending Jason a pointed look. “I’m going because I want to.”

Jason barely gives him a sardonic nod as he stomps off.

“Get me some too!” Dick calls back, only for the back of his head to be met with a sideways grimace from Tim.

As he leaves, the focus of the room seems to shift towards Damian dripping chocolate onto his cape and it fades away from there.

You turn to Jason, lowering your voice to just below a whisper, “If you don’t like strawberry—”

“I like it,” he tells you, leaving no room to argue as he takes a bite.

Voicemail. 

Voicemail.

Voicemail. 

Voicemail.

Declined.

Voicemail.

Declined.

Declined. 

“I swear to God, he better be dead,” Stephanie mutters to herself.

She shuts her phone off and tosses it into the passenger seat with a huff. Her fingers drum against the steering wheel as she scans the sidewalk across from her car.

The night before the majority of the team had been involved in a less-than-successful plan, which some have called “a display of complete idiocy and inability to circumspect.”

Then Tim had to go and make a joke about that word choice in what was apparently a bad moment. This gave way to a harsher punishment of the team being forced to clean the batcave foot by square foot—notably, an impossible task.

So naturally, they had to retaliate.

The plan was to dismantle the batmobile piece by piece and leave it a collection of parts for Bruce to find. Problem being, the group as it stood didn’t possess the capability to do so without doing a great deal of damage to the parts. Damage, that the family was not willing to face extra retribution for.

Fortunately, they knew just the man for the job. 

Unfortunately, said man has devoted his life to ignoring their messages, favoring to live peacefully and distantly from them. And because that peace and distance does come with an add-on of borderline complete secrecy from his family, no one had any idea where to look for him.

So, Stephanie decided to do the next most rational thing and track down your location. She’d hoped he would be with you like he always is, but for seemingly the first time in the last year—he’s nowhere to be found.

Now, was revenge for a minor-slight by Bruce so important that it required Stephanie to take all of these steps to get a hold of Jason? No, absolutely not. She’s pretty sure that the others have already given up on it by now and started cleaning. But it’s about the principal. And also, she does not want to clean the floors of a cave.

She jumps up in her seat when she spots you exiting a store, scurrying to unbuckle and pry the car door open.

She’s across the street in half a second, running directly into your line of sight. It actually would’ve been very difficult for her to miss your line of sight, considering she’d landed only a good six inches in front of your face. “Hey!”   

“Oh, fuck—” you jump, grabbing your chest. You take a breath when you realize who it is, less surprised now by the theatrics of the introduction. “Hey Steph.”

“Hey,” she smiles casually, like she didn’t do what she just did. “So Jason’s been ignoring us and I need to get a hold of him,” she tells you.

You nod, still collecting yourself. “Oh. I don’t know where he is—”

She shakes her head, “That’s fine. Can I use your phone to call him?”

You frown, “Is something wrong?”

“With him, yeah,” she snarks. “I called him, Tim called him, Dick called him, Cass called him, Damian called him, we used Bruce’s phone to call him—that was a bit of a long shot, but still. This is our last option. Well, not our last option, if this doesn’t work I could get really invasive, but—” She shakes the thought from her head, “Nevermind.”

You nod blankly, taking in the mountain of information she’d just handed you. “How’d you know I was here?”

She scans your eyes back and forth for a second before her own widen in realization and she’s shaking her head. “No, no, don’t worry we’re not tracking you! I just hacked into the traffic cameras to find you.”

“Oh!” you exclaim, nodding some more. “Okay.”

You hand her your phone without any further questions—for your own sake—and she happily accepts. 

“You know I texted him 115 times?” she tells you as she scrolls through your contacts.

You furrow your eyebrows, watching her click his name and press the phone to her ear. “Did you count?”

“Well, I had the time, di—you son of a bitch! One ring?” Stephanie scorns into the phone.

You can hear Jason groan on the other end of the line. 

He says something to Stephanie that she follows up with a firm shake of her head.

“No,” she says defiantly. “She let me use it.”

Stephanie rolls her eyes, not pleased with his response. “What if it was an emergency?”

She listens for a second, skeptical look on her face.

She gasps suddenly, “I am not overstepping, we thought you were dead!”

Over the course of about ten seconds the shock on her face drops into just-been-caught guilt. “Well, I mean we considered it.”

You imagine Jason’s telling her to give you your phone back as she stands her ground, pushing, “If you promise to text me back.”

A short response on his end.

“Promise to text me back!”

There’s a brief lull before she’s giving a self-satisfied nod and jostling your phone back into your hands. “Here ya go. Thanks, babe!” She smiles wide at you before jogging back across the street, not waiting for the cars.

You smile as you watch her go, putting the phone up to your ear, “Hey Jay.”

You can hear the relief on the other end of the line. “Hey sweetheart. You know if you see Steph in public, you can just walk away?”

“I’m not going to walk away from your family.” You look again across the street, “Also I don’t think that was an option for me this time.”

“That thing is fucking scary.”

Cass smiles fondly, signing, “I think he’s cute.”

Tim eyes the way Salem traipses around his feet, yellow eyes staring up at him. “Why’s it even here?”

Jason rolls his eyes, continuing to scroll on his phone. “He’s hers. Deal with it.”

Tim scrunches up his mouth. “She knows I hate it. And she, unlike you, wouldn’t subject me to this just for the hell of it. So again I ask: why is it here?”

Jason huffs, looking up from his phone. “What do you want me to say? He wants to be.”

Tim scoffs at that, “‘It wants to be’? You’re the one who put it in the car.”

“No, I didn’t,” Jason says factually.

Tim looks at him sideways as Salem leaps onto Jason’s lap and nudges his hand up. Jason follows along as requested, petting the top of Salem’s head with an open palm. 

Tim squirms to the other side of the couch with a look of disgust on his face. Salem watches him the whole time.  

A smile adorns Cass’ face as she signs, “She says he can read people’s energy.”

Tim huffs, resting his head against his fist. “What does that even mean?”

The conversation is cut off by the clatter of you and Dick stumbling into the room, carrying a freshly painted headboard. Blue paint coats both of your hands and has no doubt stained your clothes.

You’re clearly struggling a bit to keep your grip on your end, the weight of the wooden frame dragging your arms down.

Jason stands and Salem flows along with his movements easily, leaping down onto the hardwood. He comes over and helps you lift your end of the frame with a stupid amount of ease, to the point that you’re not even holding any of the weight up anymore. The three of you—less so you—move the headboard and lean it up against the wall. After it's set down Jason steps back and looks over it gingerly.

“It looks good,” he murmurs to you, quiet enough to not give his brother the satisfaction of his approval.

Dick had asked you over to help him paint Damian’s bed frame as a surprise for him for not getting in any “altercations” at school this semester. You’d decided on coating it with his favorite color first and then fill it in with a collection of what Dick has “on good authority” are his favorite animals. It’s a fairly random assortment that you’re not sure adds to or disproves Dick’s credibility. You’d spent the better half of the afternoon googling animals you’d never heard of just to make sure you projected their likenesses accurately. Dick had been very clear that you had to be precise on the details because Damian would know if he was really looking at a komodo dragon painting or if it was “some common lizard.”

You sigh, “I hope he likes it. I’m worried we did it too childish for him.”

“He is a child,” Jason says plainly.

“But he is not childish,” you counter. And he sure isn’t. You’d had a hard enough time convincing Damian to watch cartoons, adding a colorful animal mural to his bedroom might be one step too far. You’re still trying to figure him out.

“He’ll like it,” he says firmly.

You smile, slipping around under his arm and tucking yourself into his side.

Not a moment later, Dick slings an arm around Jason's shoulder, grinning as he pulls his brother in close.

Jason’s immediately louring. "No, get away from me."

Dick, unfazed and still smiling, removes his arm and takes a big step to the right. You do the same, figuring he needs his space, but you get caught by the wrist before you can do more than sway to the side. 

“Not you.” 

He pulls you back under his arm, wrapping it around the front of your shoulders. You hook your fingers around his forearm, letting your hand hang.

You hear a double-clap from the other side of the room that has you both turning around to face Cass. 

She signs something to Jason with a fond smile on her face. 

You look back and forth between them as Jason waves her off. “What?”

He shakes his head, “It’s nothing. She said—she said we’re cute.”

You smile up at him and he deflects—not so subtly—and starts nudging you back towards where the group is gathered, now all standing. 

Dick’s quick to start bragging off to the room about how great of a job the two of you did and how really complex and daunting it actually is painting animals for a child.

As he talks, your eyes find Jason, who’s definitely about to roll his eyes any second now. A bit subconsciously, your hand comes up to brush Jason’s white streak of hair back, away from tickling his forehead. 

On the other side of Jason, Tim does the same, sweeping Jason’s hair back in a much more mocking manner. 

This gives way to Jason smacking his hand away, harder than he needed to.

"Wha—You let her do it!" Tim protests, overplaying how much the slap hurt.

Jason scowls, "She can do whatever she wants."

Tim drops his shoulders, looking at Jason as if he’d been scandalized. “Oh but I can’t?”

“Not if it involves touching me,” Jason grumbles.

Tim steps closer, putting a finger to Jason’s chest. “You’re such a—”

From the floor, Salem hisses up at Tim, successfully startling the teenager. “Auahh—”

He stumbles backwards, grimacing at the cat. 

“Fucking demon,” he hisses, walking away.

When Tim’s far enough away and Salem’s seemingly satisfied, he brushes up against your leg, purring. 

You peer down at him with a furrowed brow. 

“What’s Salem doing here?”

“I’m not doing this shit with you.”

“No, come on, 9 out of 10 times is what you said. How ‘bout just once? Beat me one time at anything, Jaybird.”

“Anything?” Jason asks like he knows damn well Dick can’t swear on that word.

Rightly so, Dick backtracks. “Something agreed upon.”

Jason throws his hands up, partially in exasperation, partially relenting.

Dick smoothly turns his back to him, announcing, “Opening up the room for ideas.”

Damian’s eye roll is almost audible from the corner armchair, where his attention is unmoved from intently sharpening a blade he’d recently come into possession of.

Bruce similarly remains unbothered in his seat, trying to read despite the distractions. 

“Ooh, okay. Okay.” Stephanie wiggles up a little on the couch. “You could race!”

Dick shakes his head negatively, “I literally just busted my knee up two days ago, Steph.”

“Convenient,” Jason mumbles.

“You were there!” Dick exclaims with an open mouth.

Steph continues, “Um…”

Cass waves to the room from her position upside down on the couch, head hanging down next to Stephanie’s legs. Attention successfully acquired, she signs, “Staring contest.”

Jason grimaces, “That sounds like a nightmare.”

Dick gives him a faux-smile.

“You should play chicken,” Damian chimes in, holding up his knife.

“No,” Bruce drones monotonously as he flips a page. 

“Tic tac toe?” Steph suggests.

Cass is already shaking her head as she scrunches up her mouth in thought.  

Jason rolls his eyes, “What are we, five?”

Dick nods, cracking his knuckles as he thinks. “No, we need something that really proves our worth.”

Bruce looks up from his book, staring numbly through his brow, but remains silent.

“You could arm wrestle,” Steph suggests.

The elder brother twitches at that, “Uh, no.”

Cass moves past that before a joke has the chance to be made. “Handstand contest?” she suggests.

Jason shrugs, “Yeah, sure.”

The elder brother looks at him incredulously. “You’ll do a handstand contest with me?”

“That’s what I just said.”

Dick scoffs, “Jaybird, I’m an acrobat, you’re just some guy.”

Jason, not giving him the courtesy of eye contact, pulls his sweatshirt off from his back. “Well, you’re a lot of things, aren’t you?”

Dick throws his head back with a squint.

Jason fishes his phone out of his pocket and Dick follows suit, offended stare maintaining all the while. 

No exchange is required as they both toss their phones across the room, landing together with a rough clatter on Damian’s lap. Damian’s resulting glare is borderline disgusted.

Dick starts them off, “Alright, go. One…two…”

Both men push up onto their hands, muscles flexing as they find their balance. Dick’s form is better, of course, but Jason looks to have a stronger foundation.   

They both hold strong as several minutes go by with the brothers only maintaining the attention of some of the room, and the interest of none of it.

Stephanie huffs and tilts her head, thoroughly unentertained with the consistency they’re both managing. 

“Starting to wish they’d picked something that moved along a little faster,” she murmurs to Cass.

Dick glances over at the younger brother, clearly displeased with his lack of trouble keeping up with him. He shuffles closer one hand at a time, using the decreased distance to poke at Jason with his foot, trying to knock him over.

Jason kicks him back harder, “Hey! Don’t be a dick—”

“Very funny,” Dick leers.

They both end up finding a struggle to keep balance and are forced to mind their own.  

A chime rings out from the corner that has heads turning briefly in his direction before coming back to the competition. 

“Whose was that?” Dick calls out.

Damian leans over and inspects the screens with disinterest. “Todd’s.”

Jason adjusts his position, “Who is it?”

Damian responds with your name. 

“And?”

He picks up the phone shrugging like he couldn’t care less, “She wants to know if you want to go see some movie.”

There’s a brief silence before Jason drops out of the handstand, standing up. 

Dick’s blood-flushed face peers up at him, bewildered. “Wait, what?”

The family watches with wide eyes as Jason picks his sweatshirt up off the floor and tugs it back on.

Stephanie gawks, bordering on laughing. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” he says simply.

Dick lets himself fall into a kneeling position with a huff, “You would rather go to some movie you don’t even know the name of than win a bet?”

Jason moues at him, “Uh, yeah.”

He tosses a twenty at Dick, and plucks his phone from Damian’s hand as he strolls past him, typing out a reply.

Cass sits up a bit and signs up to Stephanie, “Does he even like movies?” 

Bruce, now attention now fully removed from his book, watches Jason exit with the slightest hint of a smile. Dick sits dumbly on the floor, staring after him with an open-mouth. 

Damian twists the knife in his hands around contemplatively before rising to stand. 

“I will go,” he announces, dropping his blade onto the seat of the chair. Jason grumbles a no but Damian follows after him just the same.

you know what happened to the last guy that didn’t reblog? … 🔪🧨💥😵⚰️🪦

[gilverrwrites]

Discretely touching them down there to their parts and gently squeezing when no one is looking and them not being able to do anything (since it's in public).

Ft. Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, & Roy. AN: Anon you're a menace and I love ya!

Bruce

You get exactly one, which he acknowledges with a stern pout and a cocked brow. Flawlessly concealing the fire you’ve ignited but for his laboured breathing and blown-out pupils. You’re walking a thin line, behaving like a brat in front of Gotham’s elite.

If he sees you reaching for him again, and trust, he will see; it will take him precisely 0.8 seconds to lock you in an unsuspecting death grip and pull you close. He wants you to feel the increased tempo of his heart against your chest. To feel the growing stiffness of his hard-on grazing your hip as he tells you assertively to; “Behave.”  

Dick

Dick sees your game; he raises you tenfold. He knows you’re up to something when he clocks the determined bite of your lips as you survey the subway car, and the mischievous glint in your eye as you look back at him. When your hand snakes under this shirt, caressing his v-lines, he juts his hips forward, presenting himself to you; daring you to take it further.

When you sink your fingers below his waistband he sucks in a deliberately loud breath. You freeze to survey your surroundings, but Dick does not. Dick starts grinding on you until he senses you growing nervous. He locks a sturdy hand around your elbow just in time to prevent you from pulling away, leans in close and whispers; “What’s wrong baby? Thought you wanted to play?”

Jason

“Is that a gun in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?” You giggle at your own joke, because Jason is always packing some form of heat. He might have laughed too, might have trapped your wrist in his hands and rocked against your outstretched palm if you’d been at home, or the club, or even the casino. But not the fucking grocery store, you little perv.  

“Are you drunk?” He offers you an out, glaring down at you with a gaze fierce enough to make a nun blush. You respond with a brazen-faced shake of your head, and he can’t help but imitate it out of disbelief at your cocky attitude. You stay like that, locked in a stare of, rock vs hard place, until Jason cracks first, noticing a couple rounding the corner at the other end of the aisle.

He grabs your arm with an unapologetic level of force, spinning you around and trapping you between his body and the trolley. Hiding his hardness by pressing it against your back. “You’re in for it later.”

Tim

Tim is the most taken aback. His pale blue eyes are rapidly examining your surroundings the moment he feels your devious fingers ghosting over the top of his thigh. He’s cute when he’s flustered, with pink cheeks and blown-out pupils. Nobody is looking, too focused on the conference speaker.

“What are you doing?” He hisses, but before he can get his words out, your hand is gone, casually pulling a non-existent thread from your sleeve.

You don’t reply, you just smile and shoot him a playful wink which puts him even more on edge. So much so that when you abruptly return, this time cupping his half-hard cock through his jeans that he fucking flinches. His knee hits the chair in front, and he sucks in a loud breath, earning him many pointed glares from multiple members of the audience.

“Babe.” Be tries to warn, but his hushed breathy tone makes him sound exactly as aroused as he feels.

Roy

You get it, you do. It was a long trip, and he’s starving but you’ve really been feeling his absence over the last few weeks, and the fact that you’re currently sat in a Burrito Bucket, watching Roy devour a tray of tacos, instead of being at home and watching him devour you, is a problem.

He seems to have noticed your sulking, but too late. “You okay ho- “

His question is halted by your foot tactfully situating itself between his legs. His gaze flits between his food and you, defiant eyes watching you through a mop of shaggy hair. A knowing grin spreads across his queso-stained lips as you answer faux-sweetly. “I’m fine, baby.”

“Right.” He huffs, breath hitching, freckled cheeks turning red when you press your toes down and something firm pushes back. He knows what you want, but he just loves to play dumb. So, he takes another bite, jerking every time you tap or roll your foot but never acknowledging what you’re silently begging for. “Is this one of those things where you say you’re fine, but actually you’re not fine?”

“I’m going home.” You finally concede with an exaggerated sigh, dropping your foot back to the floor and gathering your things.

“I’m coming with you.” He’s on you the moment you stand, draping his arm over you and placing kisses to the side of your neck, your face, whatever he can reach as you struggle to move with his deadweight over your shoulders. Notably, there’s still half a tray of uneaten tacos left on the table. “Funnily enough, I’m hungry for something else now.”

Taglist: @wandalfnation

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

workaholic

a valentines weekend event fic!

tim drake x reader: giving your vigilante boyfriend a surprise under the desk in the batcave. now who’s distracting, hmph!

content level: 18+, NSFW

yeah, he’s a vigilante, or whatever, but he’s also your boyfriend. and he hasn’t acknowledged you in forty-five minutes. you’re not really sure how, considering you’re sharing a desk chair with him, on his lap, but his focus knows no bounds.

you’re down in the batcave with him, and it feels eerie, almost like you’re not supposed to be there, but tim said it was fine.

you wanted to see him, but he had a case to work, so he had you tag along to the cave. he’s still in his suit, but his mask’s long gone, hair disheveled. he brushed you off when you asked if he’d eaten, but that’s your boyfriend.

you’re at the biggest computer you’ve ever seen, a little mind boggled at the way tim’s playing with it like it’s a toy, even though you know it took years of mastering.

he keeps muttering to himself, scribbling in a notebook off to the side. you’re not even sure he’s able to read his own handwriting. you definitely struggle with deciphering it on birthday and anniversary cards.

“tim,” you start, wondering if you could do something, like help (or just get a crumb of attention?)

“hm?” he replies, his eyes glued to a certain security video he’s been replaying, which you could recount beat for beat if asked, he’s looped it so many times.

“need any help?” you ask, playing with a strand of hair, twirling it around your fingers.

he glances at you, smiling but shaking his head.

“i got it, love. just be your pretty self.” he murmurs, patting your thigh.

you contain a sigh, nodding even though he’s not looking at you anymore.

you squirm a little in his lap, feeling a response. if tim was looking at you, he’d see the grin spreading across your face. you rub your ass against his crotch again, and even through the fabric of his super suit you can feel how eagerly he’s reacting to you.

“baby,” he warns, but there’s no real threat in his voice. you start your descent, scooting the chair back little by little using the toe of your shoe. you turn, sliding off of the chair and crouching under the desk.

he barely seems to register that you’re pulling down his pants, his underwear, until his cock’s exposed to the cool air of the cave. it’s semi hard, sending a thrill through your body that even if he wasn’t paying attention to you, his body was.

“i—what? babe, what are you doing?” you watch his thighs tense in time with the muscles of his lower stomach. you want to trace every individual ab muscle with your tongue.

you look up at him slowly, eyes opened wide as you paint the picture of innocence.

“what?” you reply, fighting back a smile.

“what do you mean, what?” tim says through grit teeth, his cock twitching as he grows harder, staring at your full lips.

he watches as you spit into your hand, slowly gliding your saliva up and down his cock. his eyes widen, eyebrows practically hidden in his hair.

“we’re gonna get caught,” he groans out, and you shrug, swiping your thumb across his tip.

“better be quiet then, huh, red robin?” you say, relishing in the way his eyes widen at his hero name.

you’re teasing him, maybe because you’re a little hurt and feeling a little mean, maybe because you like the way he’s got one hand gripping at the chair’s armrest, the other tight against his mouth as he fights down his moans.

he struggles not to buck his hips, pushing his cock farther into your mouth, struggles not to finish too early, feeling like he’s in last night’s wet dream.

but you bring him deeper, your cheeks hollowed as his tip hits the back of your throat. the hand that was covering his mouth flies to the chair’s other arm rest, and he moans out, his eyebrows furrowed.

“tim,” you say, pulling him out of your mouth. he gasps at the way the cold air of the cave feels on his wet cock, jerking in your hand.

“i’ll be quiet, i swear,” he groans, a blush spreading from his neck to his cheeks, up to the tips of his ears.

you know this is killing him, being at your mercy like this, but you’re having too much fun. you’ve got his full undivided attention now, anyways, and why do anything to change that?

you raise an eyebrow at him, doubtful, but smirk as you lower your head again. tapping his tip against your tongue, he whines, and you swirl your tongue around it, pursing your lips as you focus on it specifically.

he’s covering his eyes with his hand, his lips a thin straight line. you sit back again, fucking his cock with your fist. he drops his hand, eyes glued on the way he’s disappearing in your grip.

“shit,” he breathes out, the armrests of the chair creaking under his grip. he’s trying and failing at coming early, feeling like if he even exhales, it’s over.

you carefully lick a bead of pre off his tip, sucking him back into your mouth with an obscene slurping sound that has tim covering his mouth again. you can hear his groans anyways, his hand barely doing anything to muffle the sound.

your head bobs as you follow your hands down to his base and back up, sighing around his cock. you change it up, going fast, slow, pulling him to the brink as he curses under his breath before stopping completely, making him fall apart in your hands.

your other hand trails down to his balls, cradling them carefully with your fingers. the sensation makes his sack tense in your hands, and he gives up holding back his pleasure.

tim’s eyes roll back, closing, and you know you’ve got him.

“‘m gonna—,” he starts, the rest of his sentence turning into whimpering as hot cum shoots into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat.

you swallow the salty fluid, stroking tim even as he shudders. if you weren’t under the batcomputer, you’d keep going, overstimulate him through another round. but instead you stop, pressing a tender kiss to his tip. you tuck him back into his underwear, pulling his suit pants back up, and he settles you back onto his lap.

with a stupid smile on his flushed face, he kisses you. his lips warm as he swipes his tongue across your lip, nowhere to go but farther into each other as his hand presses against the back of your neck.

you eye the security camera on the opposite wall, and tim notices, grimacing.

“i can do something about that.” tim says, bringing up the security footage for the cave.

he quickly types in the date and time, swallowing as he watches the crystal clear video of you slide under the desk, whipping his cock out.

in the batcave.

he can’t believe it. he can’t believe how much he liked it. he wants nothing more than to get you out of here and under him in bed.

you can barely keep up his hands are moving so fast, replacing the damning evidence with earlier footage on a loop.

“why are you typing in your phone number?”

“don’t worry about it, hon,” he replies, his fingers flying as the clip whooshes off of the screen. “s’all taken care of.”

post divider courtesy of: @thecutestgrotto

[xxprincessciaraxx]

Character Playlists

some I'm still working on made these for myself for fun

[redsupulse]

Beloved

"Come on, I'm hungry my beloved. We must go."

Tim Drake x Reader, Interview with the Vampire inspired AU. Vampire!Tim Drake x Human!Journalist!Reader

MDNI 18+. Explicit Content

AO3 Link Here

Warnings: This fic is very much freak4freak. Possessiveness, jealousy. Mentions of unhealthy dynamics. Vague Mentions of stalking. References to drug use. kind of a sugar daddy relationship? Monster fucking (as much as vampires are monsters). Oral Sex. Reader is gender neutral in this one. Basically if you've ever read a devil's minion fic it's inspired by that ship. i don't go too much into the lore of vampire powers but maybe in another fic.

You awake to the feeling of being watched. Months ago, this would have startled you, sent you into a fight or flight tailspin that had you fleeing the country - if not the continent - in which you were currently residing. Months ago, a chase had begun, though at this point you are unsure of who's chasing who. Nowadays, the eyes in the corner are a comforting presence.  “Hey boss…” you tease with a voice drenched in sleep. The weight at the end of the bed is cold when you brush against it, but you don’t flinch away. It’s not the first time something freezing has crawled into your bed. Instead you just turn your head, “you haven’t fed yet.”

“I’ll feed later, beloved,” Tim says as he fully settles above you, “I wanted to see you first.” He presses a kiss to your face, then another, then another. You settle into a relaxing, lazy wake up… until he firmly wraps his arms around you and hauls you out of bed. 

Shrieking fills the room as you leave the warmth of your blankets into the cold night air, “Tim this is so fucked up!” You cling to him, but that just makes the cold worse. He just hums at you, like an asshole, before setting you on your feet in your bathroom. It’s only when you’re standing directly in front of it that you’re aware of the shower running, filling the room with steam. 

“Just because I said I wanted to see you first doesn’t mean we aren’t still going out.” He strips you of your sleep clothes, tossing them in the direction of the hamper and letting telekinesis do the rest of the work. The only care is to your necklace, which he removes delicately and sets in the dish on the counter. It’s easy to let Tim do the work, herding you into the shower, washing your hair. You bask in the warmth and in the claws scratching in your hair as he works the shampoo in. The water is hot enough that it warms even him - just for the moment - as he bathes you. “Don’t fall back asleep,” Tim pulls your head back from his shoulder to rinse the shampoo out, “this is going to be worse for you if you fall back asleep.” You huff at him, but follow his advice. Shaking off sleep is much easier when you’re no longer hiding in his neck. The rest of the shower is silent, as is Tim coaxing you out from the warmth and into a chair to do your hair. “I have an outfit picked out for you already, it’s in the closet.”

You leave Tim to get ready, dutifully dressing in the clothes he has set out for you. The tags have been cut out after a very memorable incident when you realized one of the shirts Tim bought for you was $150. It’s a point of contention in your relationship - on one hand being spoiled is nice, on the other hand it’s a complete mindfuck to be covered in expensive gifts all of the time when just under a year ago you were traveling around with only the clothes on your back and what you could hold. “Are you ready?” You stick your head back in the bathroom and see Tim compulsively touching up his hair.

“All good,” he scoops up your necklace from the dish on the counter as he walks over to you. It’s carefully clasped around your neck, then he takes a minute to fidget with the small details of how you look. At this point you let him do as he pleases - whatever he sees with his ancient eyes is beyond you. When he’s satisfied, he tugs the vial of his blood that hangs around your neck to pull you in to kiss. The heat from the showers worn off already, leaving him unnaturally cold again.

Your lips separate with a wet smack. Tilting your head back in invitation, you ask Tim “You want a snack before we go out?” 

A harsh tug to your necklace, “calm down, you’ll get what you want later.”  Tim uses his grip on the chain to tug you out of the bathroom - “come on now, I’m hungry and there’s a new band playing downtown.”

-

It’s easy to get a VIP table at any club when you own the island they operate on. You’re pretty sure all of them only have VIP tables in case you and Tim show up. He herds you into the booth, risen above the rest of the crowd with a full view of the stage on the back wall. Tim’s picked out one of the more lavish clubs on Night Island, one of the ones with intricate flooring and well maintained booths. You haven’t heard of the band that’s playing tonight, and frankly you doubt that Tim has either. “You will be my teacher,” he had whispered to you in the quiet dark one night early in your relationship, “teach me about what people do in this modern era.”

He’s an ancient vampire freak. 

He’s your ancient vampire freak. 

A wave of contentment hits you that is distinctly not your own. “Did you mean to send that to me?” You think extra hard in his direction.

An eye roll, a pinch to your thigh “maybe I wanted you to know how happy I am, beloved. Don’t be a brat.” Tim’s voice echoes in your head. The crowd below roars to life as the lights dim and the opening band takes the stage. He settles his hand on your upper thigh, mindlessly tracing shapes into your skin. At least you think they’re mindless - who really knows with Tim. It’s probably just to rile you up. The opening band is okay, but you’re distracted the entire time. “It's rude to not pay attention,” Tim whispers to you with a harsh squeeze, “people paid good money to come to this show.”

“Well it’s not like you paid anything,” you snark back, despite knowing that you’re definitely walking headfirst into a nasty punishment. When you turn to look at him, Tim has a far off look in his, a usual sign that he's connected to that weird vampire super network he’s mentioned before but never explains. 

“I’ll be back in a moment, beloved,” a kiss to your cheek and then he’s gone. You shrug and turn back to the show happening below - you don’t feel like starting that particular fight right now. It’s too good of a night. The rest of the opening set passes by with no reappearance from Tim. The overhead lights come back on

Someone taps you on your shoulder and reflexively you jump. “Sorry,” a man says, “I was wondering if you needed anything to drink.”

“Uh, a cosmo, I guess,” usually Tim orders your drinks, since you are horrifically indecisive. He also has a running spreadsheet of every drink you like from every bar on the entire island, and which drinks he prefers tasting on your blood after. The perks of dating someone who over analyzes everything. The man nods and walks away without further conversation and you finally relax. It’s only a few moments later when weight settles next to you again, paired with the clink of a glass hitting your table. You turn, expecting Tim, and instead it is the man from before - “hello?”

“Well you looked a little lonely sitting over here all by yourself so I thought I would keep our VIP company…” his voice trails off. It’s probably because you have the most confused face on the planet. The audacity is shocking. He tries to course correct when suddenly his whole body goes rigid. When he rises from the booth, it’s less like he stands and more like he’s dragged away from you. When you look around to see if anyone notices, you realize that the entire room has frozen. Instinctually, you try to get up to follow him, but it’s like your feet are rooted to the ground.

Panic starts to scratch its way through you. There are very few vampires who are capable of this level of feat and you don’t want to particularly encounter any of them-

Then Tim rounds the corner. Oh. Right. He can do that. He snatches up a handful of napkins off of a table as he walks towards you, carefully dabbing at his mouth. Fresh blood flows through his veins, bringing a flush to his face. When his hands cup your face, he’s borderline feverish. Your back hits the wall as he hurries into your space. The kiss is hungry. He’s trying to eat you alive. He’s trying to mark his territory. You moan into him, and all at once your body is free to move again. Your hands come up to claw at his blazer as you kiss back.

Suddenly your head swims. You need to breathe air. Sometimes you think Tim forgets. One of your hands lets go of his jacket to slap him hard on the back. When he pulls back, you can tell that pissed him off, but then you gasp for air and he relaxes. “Sorry beloved.” He’s not that sorry. His hands move from your face to your hair, pulling your head back but preventing you from concussing yourself on the wall behind you. Tim trails his lips down your face, absolutely covering your neck. The closer he gets to your pulse, the more you whine. “Do you want something?” the cocky son-of-a-bitch taunts.

“C’mon boss. You can literally read my mind,” he huffs a breath against your neck but doesn’t deny it. For a second, there’s just the tease of fangs against your neck, then the world shifts and you're dragged forward into Tim’s lap. His arms wrap around you, pulling you flush against him. A moment of disorientation, then sharp pain courses through you. Perfect, beautifully sharp pain. You’re glad that Tim’s frozen the room around you, there’s no way you could have kept quiet with his fangs in your neck. The swoon hits and you grind down into his lap, feeling him straining beneath you. He’s practically snarling as he drinks from you in deep gulps. “Tim…” you whine.

Next thing you know metal creaks behind you, then there’s a loud crash. Tim pulls away from your neck with one last drink, “down, now.” You blink at him in confusion - the blood loss really doesn’t help with your ability to keep up, but you normally wouldn’t have it any other way. Carefully, you move back, instinctually trying not to hit your head on the table as you crawl to the floor.

The table that is no longer behind you. It’s been ripped up, bolts and all, and thrown into the walkway next to you. That really shouldn’t be as hot as it is. Tim tears at his belt with such a ferocity that you think he might have actually just ripped the belt loops off of his bants. You drop back onto the floor with little care for your knees. Your hands rise up to help him pull his dick out when your body freezes again. “Relax,” he whispers as he strokes himself, “you just need to sit there and be pretty. Let me do the work.” 

“Okay,” you smile up as he threads a hand into your hair. Without even thinking about it, your mouth drops open obediently and he drags you forward. The tip of Tim’s cock slides into your mouth, shallowly at first, but slowly pushing deeper and deeper. He moans as he works your head up and down, loud and unashamed of his pleasure.

“Beautiful thing,” he coos at you, “look at you.” His hand that isn’t in your hair slides down your neck, stopping briefly to press at the bite mark on your neck that is still slowly leaking blood, before tugging on the chain of your necklace. “All mine, aren’t you?” 

You can only hum around the intrusion in your mouth. Tim’s hips buck up at the stimulation, pushing himself further in your throats. Tears well up in your eyes as his nails dig into your skull, sending sweet pleasure-pain coursing through your veins; he’s losing some of that carefully maintained control as you get him off. He only lets be smug about it for a few moments. One of his legs inches forward until it presses between your thighs - suddenly drawing your attention to how turned on you are. Without any control, you rut your hips into the press of his calf. “I know beloved,” he soothes as you whine. “You just can’t help it, can you? You love being mine. You may throw your little tantrums and go running off but you always come crawling back to me.” Maybe it’s your garbled response, or your running thoughts, but Tim thrusts once, twice more and cums into your throat. He tugs you back and off of him by your hair. 

The two of you pant in the quiet of the still frozen room for a moment when how turned on you are wins out over your common sense. Your hands reach up to grasp his pants wantonly as you grind into his leg. Above you, he tsks in disapproval - you rise to your feet like a puppet. “None of that now, you can wait until we get home.”

“Oh come on! Just one-” 

Before you can protest too much, Tim rips into his wrist and presses it to your mouth. “Don’t whine, drink up and then we’ll go.” Color explodes on your tongue, and you clamber to drink it like it is the sweetest nectar. It’s just the briefest drink, enough to tease. The wound closes too soon, then Tim is tugging you up and out of the club.

The world springs back to life as you exit. For a brief moment, the bouncer at the door looks startled at your sudden appearance, but he seems to brush it off quickly enough. The people on Night Island don’t get paid to ask questions about the mysterious owners. Tim’s hand stays on your lower back as you walk back to your car, only leaving when he opens the car door for you to climb inside. He settles into the driver’s seat with a practiced coolness, like he didn’t just get his dick sucked in a nightclub after killing a man. One of his hands - now warmed with the recent meal - intertwines itself with yours, “let’s get home now, beloved.”

[rainbow-universe]

dragging 'round a body (dead weight)

Attempted bottom surgery turns into secret relationship reveal? Click below for more!! Criminal Minds x DC Crossover Week Day 6 - Saturday, February 8th & Day 5- Friday, February 7th Day 5: Soulmate AU || Secret Relationship*** || Identity Porn/Reveal || “It’s actually safer to kiss.” Day 6: Lazarus Pits || BAU vs. the League of Assassins || Unexpected Allies || “Give a man a mask and he will show his true face." ***This can be romantic, platonic, or familial! The world is your oyster, be free! part of @criminalmindsxdc 's CM x DC crossover week!!

so this was inspired by one of Taxi's AITAH fics about the Lazarus Pit giving trans!Jason a dick and trans!Tim wanting one too, and an orphan_account's fic about Tim and Jason faking a relationship as their alibi for killing the joker (they did kill the joker but that's not the point) (both linked on the ao3 fic)

i had so much fun writing this one and it was also very cathartic at times. definitely self projected a bit at tim and reader in the middle there

Possible TWs: body/gender dysphoria, Pit rage?, explicit language, death, resurrection, batcest, etc

I know this isn’t for everyone so don’t like, don’t read, take care of yourselves

title from KMS by Sub Urban

cross-posted on ao3

wc: 3k+

flash warning for the gif below the cut

“What did you do over the weekend?” you heard JJ ask Spencer and Derek as you walked into the bullpen Monday morning.

“I read up on Allium haematochiton, also known as the redskin onion, native to certain places of California, and went to a Mitochondrial Psychobiology seminar on human energy and healing. It was really quite fascinating,” Spencer said, spinning in his chair.

“Of course you did, boy genius,” Derek teased playfully.

You reached your desk and put your bag down, still listening to your coworkers’ conversation.

“Oh, and what did you do, Morgan?” Spencer tossed back.

“I worked on one of my places, I’m almost done, just a few more things to finish up.”

“Good for you,” JJ smiled.

“JJ?”

“Henry had a playdate Friday night, so Will and I had some quiet time.”

“OoOoh!” Derek wiggled his eyebrows.

JJ laughed at his teasing. “And yesterday we went to the zoo.”

Emily walked up to their group. “Sounds fun.”

“And what did you do, Prentiss?” Derek asked.

Emily stuck her tongue out at him. “Chilled with Sergio and got caught up on the Real Housewives.”

“Ooh! What franchise?” JJ asked.

“Beverly Hills. Their drama is so insanely cathartic to me,” Emily laughed.

Derek called your name, and you looked up. “What’d you get up to, hot shot?”

“Umm…” You stared into space and thought about how to describe your weekend.

-----

It started with a text on Friday night, one of the days you were lucky enough to get off at a reasonable hour. You had been excited to have the weekend off too, ready to relax and catch up on things you neglected during the week thanks to your crazy work hours.

You’d just gotten into your apartment building when your phone buzzed. You pulled it out. It was Jason.

got an egg + mountain dew problem. come help me wrangle him.

Oh dear.

You turned around and headed right back out to the nearest Zeta tube.

Were you supposed to use them? Not really, but the Batkids had given you access so you took that as permission. Besides, this constituted an emergency.

You followed the coordinates Jason sent and stepped out into a Gotham alley.

“Thank fuck you’re here. C’mon, he’s gone rabid.”

Jason pulled you with him to his bike and tossed you an extra helmet.

You put it on and got behind him without question, but as soon as he pulled away from the curb you opened your mouth. “So, what’s the situation exactly? You were a little vague in your text.”

“Timmers found out that my dip in the radioactive Mountain Dew gave me a dick and decided he wanted to do the same thing, ignoring the fact that it gave me rage issues and other shit to deal with.” You could hear Jason’s scowl. You knew he was just worried from Tim.

“So we are going …?”

“To stop him, obviously. Brat’s already on his way so we’re going to steal the Bat-plane and stop him.”

“Ok.” Just a normal Friday night for you then.

Tim … was a slippery guy. He was smart and determined, which made him annoyingly difficult to catch up with, but you knew where he was headed, which helped. (There were only so many Lazarus Pits so you had a select number of locations Tim could choose from, narrowing your chase down.)

You caught him just before he could enter the caves, fully launching yourselves at him and grabbing onto him like a koala.

Tim, of course, could be as slippery as an eel sometimes. This was one of those times.

“Don’t you fucking dare, baby bird!” Jason yelled as he and you tried to wrangle him away from the mouth of the cave.

“Don’t try and stop me!” he yelled back, swinging his bō at you. Jason jumped over it and you rolled out of the way.

“Too late, we’re already trying to stop you,” you sassed and whipped out a sword to block Tim’s attacks. (Thank fuck, Zatanna had given you a sword charm upon request. You could carry it around, no one the wiser, and in necessary times like these, you could whip it out and have a weapon.)

“Did you learn nothing from my fuck ups? This is not the answer!”

“It’s free surgery!” Tim argued.

“With a bunch of side effects! You’re supposed to be the smart one!”

“Fuck you! I can be a dumbass if I want!”

“Tim, please,” you begged, blocking another hit with your sword.

“No!” he snarled and kicked up dust into your face and launched his staff at Jason.

You yelped and wiped the dirt out of your eyes. “Tim!” He was running through the caves.

“Fuck!” Jason swore and set off after him, you hot on his heels.

“Remember what happened with Jason!” you shouted, a last attempt to hold Tim off.

You caught up to him next to the pit. He was kneeling at the edge, staring into its depths. You went and knelt next to him. Jason stayed back. Hesitant.

“Tim,” you said softly. He didn’t move.

“I just want a body I like. I want to feel comfortable in my own skin,” he confessed, almost silently.

“Tim,” you started again, practically begging him to hear you. “I love you. I’m sorry your body doesn’t fit you right now, but you know that this isn’t the answer. Tim … darling … rationality and realities can be bummers. I wish we could mold our own bodies out of clay, give ourselves the bodies we’re comfortable in without having to jump through hoops and doctors’ appointments and evaluations and years of waiting. I wish we were given the bodies we wanted right away, without having to ask. I wish it was as easy as a suspicious looking bath, but it’s not. Jason didn’t choose to go in there, and he didn’t know what would happen. No one did.

“But there’s small joys in being able to craft your own body. It’s like pruning a tree, it takes time to form it into the big shape we want, but at any point we can decorate it with lights and ornaments and bows, until the time when it’s fully grown the way we pruned it. And even then, we can still decorate it.” You sighed. “I’m not sure exactly where I’m going with this, just that your struggles are valid. Being uncomfortable in your own skin is valid and wanting to change your body so it fits right is valid. But this isn’t the way, Tim, the ‘surgery’ might work but I think somewhere in there there’s a regret rate of 50%, as opposed to other ways. I want you to be happy. I want you to be comfortable, but I want you to be safe. This isn’t safe, Tim,” you whispered.

Tim took in a shaky breath and when you leaned down to see past his curtain of hair, you realized there were tears streaming down his face.

“Oh, Tim,” you breathed.

“I just want to not want to peel my own skin off,” he whimpered.

“Me too.”

You tapped the back of his hand to check his boundaries, and when he didn’t stop you, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into you.

You sat there together for a few moments, just breathing. Tim sat up slowly and disentangled himself from you.

You waited to see if he wanted to talk.

“Loving the emotional bonding that’s happening here but we’ve got company and not the fun kind. Unless you like being attacked. Like me. This is my kind of company,” Jason said.

“Alright, Tim-” you held out a hand “-let’s go, live to kick ass, say fuck you to society and gender norms another day.”

“I hate when you speak my language,” Tim said without heat, letting you help him up and grabbing his bō from Jason. “Let’s annoy Rā’s a little before we leave.”

“I’m sure we’ve already annoyed him by being here but sure, let’s make it worse.”

“Hell yeah, baby bird!” Jason shouted, shooting at the incoming assassins. You genuinely didn’t know what kind of bullets he was using.

“Bruce is going to have a fit when he finds out about this,” you said, pulling out your sword to fend off the attackers.

“If he finds out!” Tim called, swinging at more assassins.

If?? Oh dear lord, this was going to end badly, you just knew it. Wouldn’t stop you from continuing on the path, you were just prepared to say ‘I told you so’ to yourself later on.

Your phone rang. You glanced at it. Jason. You picked up.

“Yah?”

There was a cough on the other end, and not Jason’s cough.

“Hello?”

“Were you with Jason and Tim yesterday?”

“Bruce?”

“Yes.”

Ah. That was fast. You could tell yourself I told you so now.

Jason must be somewhere in the background, since it was his phone. You wondered if anyone else was there, was Tim? “Umm, what? Why?”

“A League base was attacked yesterday night. The Bat-plane has several hours of footage missing from its logs and Jason and Tim don’t have alibis for the suspected time period. Their alibi is that they were with you.”

“Ok, and? Yes, they were both with me.” You knew exactly what you did but no way in hell were you admitting that to Bruce. So, you needed to tell him a truth that absolutely distracted him from this interrogation.

“You were with Jason and Tim, yesterday night,” he said it like it was hard to believe. Maybe it was.

“Yes.” You had the perfect idea. You just hoped Tim and Jason wouldn’t want to kill you after this. It just needed the right introduction-

“Hn. And where were you?”

“Getting well acquainted with my bed,” you deadpanned. Oops?

The other side of the phone was silent for longer than Bruce’s normal pauses. Please let Jason and Tim go with it, dear lord.

“So no, we were not near any League base, Bruce, can confirm that Tim and Jason were in bed with me. At my apartment.”

There was a horrified snort-whine that you were pretty sure came out of Dick’s mouth in surprise.

Steph choked on a laugh. (At least you were pretty sure it was her.)

So if they were there, likely Jason and Tim were too.

“Are we done here?” you asked.

“The missing flight logs?”

You had to give props to Bruce for being unfailingly dedicated to his mission.

You pinched your brow. “Evidently, we didn’t want anyone to find out before we were ready to tell them. Yes, I took a Zeta tube to Gotham yesterday, yes, we stole the Bat-plane for a bit. We took it to my place.”

“The flight to DC is shorter than the deleted time. You wouldn’t have needed to delete that much time if you were just hiding your flight from Gotham to DC.”

You sighed. “No. But we … took our time. Hence the deleted footage.”

Silence. You wondered what Bruce was thinking. What everyone else was thinking.

You got your answer soon enough (at least, sort of).

“Don’t look at me like that, old man! My personal life is none of your business!” snapped Jason.

“Tim…”

“Why the fuck are you looking at him like that? Fuck you! I am a fantastic partner!”

“Polyamory does exist,” you added blandly. “I happen to be a practiser.”

“I am capable of making my own decisions, B,” Tim stated resolutely.

You wondered what kind of face Bruce was making when Tim added, “And if that includes dating two people then that’s my choice to make.”

“Fuck you, old man, give me my phone back, we’ve entertained you enough for the day.” You could hear Jason’s snappish voice get louder as he presumably stole his phone back.

“C’mon babe, let’s go.” You imagined Jason slinging an arm over Tim’s shoulders and politely forcing him out of the cave, not that Tim would necessarily fight him off, not to sell the lie.

“Have a nice day!” you called.

“See you later, sweetheart,” Jason said.

“Bye, love, talk later,” Tim said, and the line cut.

Well. You could certainly get used to them calling you pet names like that.

Tim and Jason showed up at your apartment a few hours later, presumably after they’d escaped all the prodding questions and interrogations from their family. You let them in.

“Faking a relationship to distract B? Bold move,” Tim said, taking his shoes off and walking further into your apartment.

“One that I respect, but also what the fuck,” Jason added, following him in.

You shrugged. “I needed something very distracting but believable.”

“Acquainted with the bed? Really?” Jason asked, spinning to look at you.

“What? It’s true! In a very unsexy way!” you defended. “We were cuddling in my bed for a fair amount of time. I’d say that’s getting very acquainted with it, not my fault most people would infer sexy times.”

Tim snorted. “I thought Bruce might have a heart attack for a bit when you said that.”

“Distracting. Like I was going for.”

“Fucking B and his judgemental looks,” Jason scoffed.

You snorted.

“We are going to have to actually fake a relationship for a bit. To make sure everyone believes it,” Tim said.

“I don’t mind,” you said. “I like you both. Sorry for springing it on you like that though.”

“’s fine, was a good idea,” Jason shrugged.

“It was. But now we have to sell it,” Tim said.

“After the shock of finding out is B really gonna believe it though?”

“You don’t think we can pull it off?”

Jason scowled and ran a hand through his hair, starting to pace. “We’re not that close-”

“Ouch.”

“No what I meant, bird brain, and you know it. Fuck, I tried to kill you. We don’t get along, we don’t hang out, no one’s gonna-”

“Not true.”

“Huh?”

“No, Tim’s right, we have been hanging out,” you said. “One, you and him are on much better terms. Two, I’m your friend so I’ve been hanging out at the Manor, so Tim and I have been hanging out more and we’ve become friends. So three, the three of us have been hanging out together. Four, well, Tim’s fallen asleep on me multiple times now and the three of us have ended up hanging out in silence or whatever. They could see that as … I dunno, bonding, feelings, et cetera. Anyways, all in all, we have been seen growing closer so it’s not too much of a leap (for the allos) to expect that they’d think we’ve … grown feelings for each other and started dating or whatever. And it’s not unsurprising that we kept our relationship a secret at the beginning either.”

“Besides, I don’t hate you,” Tim said. “I even had a crush on you when you were Robin.”

Jason was silent, emotions flitting across his face a mile a minute. “What?” Jason managed, looking as if Tim had dropped a bombshell on him. Maybe he had.

Tim blinked, not expecting that reaction from Jason. He shrugged. “Yah, I thought you knew.”

“How would I- Why would I- NO!” Jason exclaimed. “I did not know!”

Tim blinked again. “Oh.”

“I-” Jason cut himself off.

“Do you still?”

“What?”

“What?”

“Do you still,” you repeated. “Have a crush on him. I mean, his thighs in his Red Hood pants? His forearms? His whole Red Hood look? His whole Jason look? Damn. My aesthetic radars (ace-thetic, haha) are screaming. That is to say, Jason, that I like your face. And I think you’re beautiful. Also, you’re very important to me and I love you.”

“Oh.” Jason almost seemed flustered by your rant.

“So? Tim?” You turned your attention to him.

He didn’t answer but he was also staring intently at your floorboards. You noticed his hands tapping out code on his thighs and the tips of his ears darkening.

“Do you?” Jason asked this time.

“Do you? Tim retorted, looking up to stare Jason down.

Jason blinked, taken aback, and you see the tips of his ears start to blush.

“You do!” Tim crowed.

“No,” was Jason’s kneejerk reaction.

“No?” Tim had a gleam in his eye as he stalked closer.

You watched them amusedly.

Jason held his ground, glaring down at Tim in front of him.

Tim went up onto his tiptoes to breathe into Jason’s ear. “You sure?” His hands trailed over Jason’s chest.

Jason’s hands twitched.

You smiled, barely holding back a soft laugh, enjoying the show.

Quick as a flash, Jason reached down and scooped Tim up and threw him over his shoulder.

Tim squawked indignantly, immediately squirming and flailing and yelling.

Jason carried him to your room. “We’re going to get reacquainted with your bed,” he deadpanned.

You laughed, following behind, watching them affectionately.

Jason tossed Tim on top the bed and jumped on top of him but this time Tim rolled out of the way fast enough. They grappled for a few seconds, you stayed where you were, laughing at them all the while.

“C’mon, stop fighting and let me on,” you giggled.

They let up and soon enough you were all cuddled up in your bed again. Jason and you curled around Tim. (Making sure he wouldn’t get away this time.)

“I don’t hate you. I meant that,” Tim said softly.

“I know, baby bird.”

It was quiet another moment.

“I … don’t either.”

“I know.”

“I like you,” Jason whispered into the air. You couldn’t help but think he had his eyes closed, to hide himself from rejection.

Tim didn’t say anything for a moment and Jason immediately backtracked, “You don’t have to- I mean-”

“I like you too. Like, like like.”

Jason snorted. “Nerd.”

“Says the nerd who’s obsessed with Jane Austen,” Tim retaliated.

“You’re both Nerdy Birdies, ok? Now quiet and let me cuddle you in peace,” you mumbled into Tim’s hair.

“We’re all nerds,” Tim declared.

“Ok, Nerdy Birdy.”

“Oh fuck you!”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Jason shot back, jokingly.

“Love asexual sex jokes,” you mumbled.

Tim and Jason chuckled too. You smiled to yourself as you felt their chest rumble. This was very comfortable, you thought to yourself.

There was another silence. Peaceful though.

“Does this mean we’re dating for real now?” Tim asked.

“I guess,” Jason said.

“Ok,” you agreed, sleepily.

“Ok, cool.”

Jason snorted. “Who’d’a guessed that we’d turn from fake relationship to real relationship so fast?”

“Not fanfic authors, that’s for sure,” you joked. You all snickered at that.

"We'll get you a dick, don't worry," Jason said in his sleep heavy voice.

"Promise?" Tim murmured.

“Promise, now go to sleep, baby bird.”

“G’night, Jay, night, love.”

“G’night.”

-----

Your coworkers looked at you expectantly.

“C’mon, hot shot, what did you do all weekend?” Derek asked again.

You shrugged. “Nothing much.”

“Aww, come on, give us more than that,” Emily laughed.

“Give us details,” JJ urged.

“Nothing much to tell, just stayed at my apartment, chilled, hung out.”

“With who?” Derek immediately caught your slip.

“Were you with someone?” Emily teased.

“Uhh.”

“Come on, tell us,” JJ encouraged.

You covered your face in your hands and blew out a deep breath of air. “I may, or may not,” you started slowly, “have been with my … boyfriends.” You couldn’t help but smile when you said that. Boyfriends.

“Boyfriends?” Spencer echoed.

“Yes.”

“Cutie pie! Did you have fun?” Emily asked.

You huffed a laugh. “Yes, yes we did.”

“That’s nice, you sound happy,” JJ said, silently supporting you.

“I am.”

“You’ll have to introduce us sometime,” Derek added.

You laughed. “Maybe,” you agreed.

~~~

thanks for reading!! feel free to rb and leave nice comments <3

[n0cturn4]

Series In every universe - 7 . Jason Todd

Character: Jason Toddx Reader Summary: "I love the peace you bring me." Word Count: 663 Land of Ancient Times.

The morning mist rose lazily over the fields surrounding the castle. Prince Jason walked almost furtively, disguised among the people, each step carrying him farther from the cold halls of the court, toward the village where peace became tangible at a mere glance. There, among the stone houses and the murmuring waters of the brook, she lived—a young woman whose gentle smile seemed to dissolve every war within his spirit.

Upon seeing her near the mill, Jason's heart filled with a strange serenity. He approached her, and as he met her gaze, he let slip a murmur, almost sacred in tone, as if he feared his words might dispel the magic of that moment.

"I love the peace you bring me" he said, his voice slightly breaking, for there, under her gaze, Jason was not a prince, but simply a man seeking refuge.

She looked at him tenderly, her eyes reflecting the sweetness the world had often denied him. She took his hand in hers, and her touch seemed to draw promises of protection, a home for one who, within the grandeur of the kingdom, felt utterly alone.

"And I love knowing that I'm your safe place," she replied, her words soft as a whisper to the wind.

He inclined his head slightly, as if to revere her, allowing the weight of his responsibilities to slip from his shoulders, if only for that brief moment. Jason was a prince, yes, but there, under the gaze of the young woman who made him feel human, he needed none of the armor of royalty.

The sound of the mill mingled with the distant song of birds, and Jason allowed himself, if only there, to forget the weight of the crown awaiting him in the castle. He held her hand with gentle care, his eyes resting upon hers as if he saw within them the entire universe.

"Each time I am with you," he said, his voice wrapped in a reverent murmur, "it's as if time itself slows, as if the entire world dissolves into silence and calm."

She smiled—a simple smile, yet one capable of breaking down the invisible walls around his heart. She knew the stories about the prince—the rumors of his temper, his restlessness, and his inner battles. And yet, she saw in him the man, not the title.

"The peace you seek," she said, interlacing her fingers with his, "is not found within the stones of a castle. It blooms in truth and simplicity, and your soul, Jason, is like the water of a river... it needs only space to flow."

Jason remained silent, absorbing her words as if they were balm. No one had ever dared to speak to him this way, as though he were just a man, someone deserving of a simple happiness that had never been granted to him.

"In your eyes," he murmured, drawing closer, "I feel free from everything that binds me. In you, I find the home my soul has long sought."

She brought her hand to his face, caressing him with a tenderness that seemed to belong to another age, to a purer, distant world.

"Then I promise to be this refuge," she replied, her voice sweet and firm. "Even if fate should lead us down different paths, in my heart, there will always be a space that is yours."

Jason closed his eyes, breathing deeply, as if to forever preserve the memory of that touch, of that instant. His duties as prince, the kingdom's expectations—all of it felt ephemeral beside her.

"I would make this moment eternal, if I could," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

She smiled, and the light in her eyes was like the sunrise over the valley—a silent promise of peace, of shelter.

"Then let it be eternal in our memories," she replied softly. "And may it bring us strength to face the days to come."

And there, amidst the village's serenity, Jason held her hand with an almost sacred gentleness, as if he held the very essence of the peace he so deeply longed for.

[lealdern]

Can I request SFW Vampire Tim Drake by chance? Hurt/comfort maybe? Thanks!

SFW but with violence for you!

The Trigger

vampire!Tim Drake x gn!reader / injured reader / violence

They thought you were a weakness.

Tim Drake’s pet human.

They sent their familiars to snatch you up in the daylight, too scared to come for you in the dark.

Now you’re stood chained to a wall by your wrists, arms above your head, in a shitty club that looks like something from a late 90’s vampire flick. The only reason you’re fearful is that the vampires keep snacking on you like you’re a juice box and you’re starting to get light headed and floaty. The next idiot might not stop in time, too young to control their thirst .

But you’re not scared for Tim, as much as they thought they could use you against him to tamper down his ruthlessness, oh, no: Because you’re not Tim Drake’s weakness.

You’re his fucking doomsday trigger.

A weak laugh spills past your lips when the lights go out and the screaming starts. It won’t be painful for the human familiars; they go first and fast. The vampires, however… You can hear their human sounding screams warping into demonic screeches as they’re torn apart by hands that you know will be gentle when they touch you.

Tim’s anger is quiet, ruthless, so there are no grunts of angry effort or shouts or gloating. He finishes them off until you can only hear a wet drip somewhere in the dark to your right and your own weak pulse thudding loud and slow in your ears.

There’s an arm around your waist lifting you up from where you’d sagged and your head is resting on his shoulder as he opens the manacles around your wrists. You give a weak sound of discomfort when your arms are lowered, shoulders aching.

“I’ve got you,” he hushes, and you hear the worry in his voice along with the relief as he presses his forehead to yours. "You're safe now," the words spoken to himself just as much to you. You can’t see him in the dark of this underground club but he can see you: You’re bruised and covered in bite marks, a split lip and sprained wrist from when the familiars had ambushed you and you fought back.

He picks you up effortlessly in his arms, walks through puddles of blood and out into the crisp Gotham night to take you home.

[lillyofthevalley66]

Oh and just to be clear I may still end up writing some of these that don’t get picked, this will just decide which one I write first. (Hopefully I actually end up having the motivation to write whatever I guys pick lmfao)

[strangepoppy]

“This is so nice,” Dick preens. “He used to just leave the room when too many of us gathered in one place. Now he has to stay.”

Jason sounds like a cat, that's why he gets along with Salem 😆

Wait, now both Timmy and Jason sound like cats 😆

Reader being spooked by Steph and possible stalking is just 👌����

Salem <3

La Vie en Rose

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason wildly preferring you over everyone else

4 in 1 blurbs

warnings: standard batfam arguing etc.

You sit curled up embarrassingly close to Jason on the couch, head on his shoulder. The team is still in their gear as they filter into the living room, masks and helmets discarded in scattered locations between here and the cave. The mission had been fairly simple and with all of them together it only took a couple hours to finish up.

As you waited, Alfred had kept your mind busy in the kitchen while he taught you how he makes his famous ice cream from scratch.

The clamor of the heroic party’s return had made itself known sooner than later, and you think your face must have displayed your emotions nicely because Alfred nodded you away with a small smile and no second thought.

You’d walked into the living room, weaving through the mess of siblings until a hand snuck out on your left and grabbed your wrist. You barely had time to look at him before Jason pulled you down to sit next him on the sofa. He wrapped an arm over your shoulder, pulling you in and leaving virtually no space between you. His armor sits heavy against you, but a welcome weight on your shoulders.

Tim plops down on the couch across from you and you can just make out a bit of blood on the side of his head, aptly accompanied by an irritated look sprawled across his face. It’s not enough blood to be concerned about—not for them—but you can venture a guess that whatever they were up to shouldn’t have called for any injuries and his pique is likely directly related to that.

Though Dick’s goading aura might have something to do with it too, as he comes crashing down next to him a second later, partially sitting on Tim’s cape and pulling him into an awkward angle. 

Nightwing doesn’t seem too perturbed by the younger vigilante’s agitation and curt manner of pushing him off.

The others are too caught up in chatter to pay much attention to you, and you can be certain that’s why Jason takes that moment to press a kiss to the side of your head. He lets his lips linger there for just a second as you lean into him.

Alfred’s own entrance is the only thing able to subside the flurry of conversations skirting around the room.

“A job well done,” he commends with a nod. “A selection of ice creams awaits you in the kitchen.”

He gives you a sly wink before retreating back through the swinging door, leaving Stephanie and Cass to practically trip over themselves trying to beat each other to the kitchen. Robin follows after unhurried, mask still on, with his hands behind his back.

Jason kneads your thigh before pushing himself up to stand. He turns back, looking down to you. “What do you want?” he asks softly.

You hum, "Just strawberry's good."

Tim sits up, "Can I—”

"No, you've got legs,” Jason grumbles, stalking off to the kitchen.

Dick barks out a laugh and you bite back a smile.

Tim looks absolutely aghast. 

“That’s such bullshit. You know, he used to be nice.”

“No he didn’t,” Dick laughs, shaking his head. “Not since you’ve known him.”

Stephanie stumbles out of the kitchen then, the door hitting her back on the way, as she mutters a curse behind her. You can vaguely makeout Jason grunting something back before she rolls her eyes.

Steph looks at you, shaking her head as she returns to her seat, “You live like this?”

You shrug, “He’s nice to me.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Tim grumbles.

Jason returns after Cass a minute later with a bowl of strawberry ice cream and two spoons. He expertly ignores Tim’s unwavering glare as he resituates himself beside you.

He scoops your legs up over his lap and positions the bowl in between you, wrapping the sleeve of his jacket around it so that the cold porcelain doesn’t make contact with your skin.

The others have set themselves up so that the four of them are stuffed up against each other on the sofa adjacent to you, very obviously examining you both. 

And while you’re willing to acknowledge the amused stares and singular glare, Jason only sighs heavily, rolling his eyes as he glares at the coffee table.

Only a few seconds of this are allowed to go by before he pulls over a throw pillow and sets it over your knees, so that it rests atop your heads like a mini-fort, successfully blocking out his siblings' view of the two of you.

You smile and press a light kiss to his shoulder as he simmers.

Regrettably, you miss the way Damian side-eyes the pillow above you as he re-enters the room, perching himself atop the back of the couch behind the others.

“This is so nice,” Dick preens. “He used to just leave the room when too many of us gathered in one place. Now he has to stay.”

Stephanie watches the makeshift fort with wary eyes, scooping ice cream into her mouth. “Yeah…I don’t wanna freak you guys out but, uh…”

It’s quiet for a moment and you guess Cass is speaking. 

You’re proven right when Stephanie starts up again, “My thoughts exactly.” Her voice drops into a raspy whisper that isn’t really meant to go unheard, “I don’t know who the hell that is, but it is not Jason.” 

“This is unprecedented,” Damian mumbles, dipping into his own chocolate cup.

“Do they always talk about you like you’re not here?” you ask Jason quietly. 

“Yes,” he grumbles with a scornful look directed at the bowl.

A low hiss can be heard immediately after, “I’ve never heard him whisper before, what the fuck?”

You can’t hide your laugh as well as you mean to, but you know Jason’s light swat to your thigh is nothing more than a rib.

Mumbles continue along the other couch, mostly going unacknowledged, until Tim busts out, “He doesn’t even like strawberry!”

Jason snaps the pillow out of the way, “The fuck do you know about what I like?”

Tim resets his posture with one hell of an attitude, snarking, “Well I can name one thing you really seem to fucking—”

Jason grabs the pillow harshly and chucks it at Tims head which connects with a loud thwack.

Damian swats it away before it can knock him off balance, though his scowl is only half worth what Tim’s is. 

“You’re unbelievable,” he says with a sneer. “This is why you don’t get invited to movie night anymore.”

Jason doubles back at him, “Sorry, is this not your own fucking house?”

Tim huffs, “Yes, which i—”

“Then get your own goddamn ice cream!”

Tim huffs as he stands, sending Jason a pointed look. “I’m going because I want to.”

Jason barely gives him a sardonic nod as he stomps off.

“Get me some too!” Dick calls back, only for the back of his head to be met with a sideways grimace from Tim.

As he leaves, the focus of the room seems to shift towards Damian dripping chocolate onto his cape and it fades away from there.

You turn to Jason, lowering your voice to just below a whisper, “If you don’t like strawberry—”

“I like it,” he tells you, leaving no room to argue as he takes a bite.

Voicemail. 

Voicemail.

Voicemail. 

Voicemail.

Declined.

Voicemail.

Declined.

Declined. 

“I swear to God, he better be dead,” Stephanie mutters to herself.

She shuts her phone off and tosses it into the passenger seat with a huff. Her fingers drum against the steering wheel as she scans the sidewalk across from her car.

The night before the majority of the team had been involved in a less-than-successful plan, which some have called “a display of complete idiocy and inability to circumspect.”

Then Tim had to go and make a joke about that word choice in what was apparently a bad moment. This gave way to a harsher punishment of the team being forced to clean the batcave foot by square foot—notably, an impossible task.

So naturally, they had to retaliate.

The plan was to dismantle the batmobile piece by piece and leave it a collection of parts for Bruce to find. Problem being, the group as it stood didn’t possess the capability to do so without doing a great deal of damage to the parts. Damage, that the family was not willing to face extra retribution for.

Fortunately, they knew just the man for the job. 

Unfortunately, said man has devoted his life to ignoring their messages, favoring to live peacefully and distantly from them. And because that peace and distance does come with an add-on of borderline complete secrecy from his family, no one had any idea where to look for him.

So, Stephanie decided to do the next most rational thing and track down your location. She’d hoped he would be with you like he always is, but for seemingly the first time in the last year—he’s nowhere to be found.

Now, was revenge for a minor-slight by Bruce so important that it required Stephanie to take all of these steps to get a hold of Jason? No, absolutely not. She’s pretty sure that the others have already given up on it by now and started cleaning. But it’s about the principal. And also, she does not want to clean the floors of a cave.

She jumps up in her seat when she spots you exiting a store, scurrying to unbuckle and pry the car door open.

She’s across the street in half a second, running directly into your line of sight. It actually would’ve been very difficult for her to miss your line of sight, considering she’d landed only a good six inches in front of your face. “Hey!”   

“Oh, fuck—” you jump, grabbing your chest. You take a breath when you realize who it is, less surprised now by the theatrics of the introduction. “Hey Steph.”

“Hey,” she smiles casually, like she didn’t do what she just did. “So Jason’s been ignoring us and I need to get a hold of him,” she tells you.

You nod, still collecting yourself. “Oh. I don’t know where he is—”

She shakes her head, “That’s fine. Can I use your phone to call him?”

You frown, “Is something wrong?”

“With him, yeah,” she snarks. “I called him, Tim called him, Dick called him, Cass called him, Damian called him, we used Bruce’s phone to call him—that was a bit of a long shot, but still. This is our last option. Well, not our last option, if this doesn’t work I could get really invasive, but—” She shakes the thought from her head, “Nevermind.”

You nod blankly, taking in the mountain of information she’d just handed you. “How’d you know I was here?”

She scans your eyes back and forth for a second before her own widen in realization and she’s shaking her head. “No, no, don’t worry we’re not tracking you! I just hacked into the traffic cameras to find you.”

“Oh!” you exclaim, nodding some more. “Okay.”

You hand her your phone without any further questions—for your own sake—and she happily accepts. 

“You know I texted him 115 times?” she tells you as she scrolls through your contacts.

You furrow your eyebrows, watching her click his name and press the phone to her ear. “Did you count?”

“Well, I had the time, di—you son of a bitch! One ring?” Stephanie scorns into the phone.

You can hear Jason groan on the other end of the line. 

He says something to Stephanie that she follows up with a firm shake of her head.

“No,” she says defiantly. “She let me use it.”

Stephanie rolls her eyes, not pleased with his response. “What if it was an emergency?”

She listens for a second, skeptical look on her face.

She gasps suddenly, “I am not overstepping, we thought you were dead!”

Over the course of about ten seconds the shock on her face drops into just-been-caught guilt. “Well, I mean we considered it.”

You imagine Jason’s telling her to give you your phone back as she stands her ground, pushing, “If you promise to text me back.”

A short response on his end.

“Promise to text me back!”

There’s a brief lull before she’s giving a self-satisfied nod and jostling your phone back into your hands. “Here ya go. Thanks, babe!” She smiles wide at you before jogging back across the street, not waiting for the cars.

You smile as you watch her go, putting the phone up to your ear, “Hey Jay.”

You can hear the relief on the other end of the line. “Hey sweetheart. You know if you see Steph in public, you can just walk away?”

“I’m not going to walk away from your family.” You look again across the street, “Also I don’t think that was an option for me this time.”

“That thing is fucking scary.”

Cass smiles fondly, signing, “I think he’s cute.”

Tim eyes the way Salem traipses around his feet, yellow eyes staring up at him. “Why’s it even here?”

Jason rolls his eyes, continuing to scroll on his phone. “He’s hers. Deal with it.”

Tim scrunches up his mouth. “She knows I hate it. And she, unlike you, wouldn’t subject me to this just for the hell of it. So again I ask: why is it here?”

Jason huffs, looking up from his phone. “What do you want me to say? He wants to be.”

Tim scoffs at that, “‘It wants to be’? You’re the one who put it in the car.”

“No, I didn’t,” Jason says factually.

Tim looks at him sideways as Salem leaps onto Jason’s lap and nudges his hand up. Jason follows along as requested, petting the top of Salem’s head with an open palm. 

Tim squirms to the other side of the couch with a look of disgust on his face. Salem watches him the whole time.  

A smile adorns Cass’ face as she signs, “She says he can read people’s energy.”

Tim huffs, resting his head against his fist. “What does that even mean?”

The conversation is cut off by the clatter of you and Dick stumbling into the room, carrying a freshly painted headboard. Blue paint coats both of your hands and has no doubt stained your clothes.

You’re clearly struggling a bit to keep your grip on your end, the weight of the wooden frame dragging your arms down.

Jason stands and Salem flows along with his movements easily, leaping down onto the hardwood. He comes over and helps you lift your end of the frame with a stupid amount of ease, to the point that you’re not even holding any of the weight up anymore. The three of you—less so you—move the headboard and lean it up against the wall. After it's set down Jason steps back and looks over it gingerly.

“It looks good,” he murmurs to you, quiet enough to not give his brother the satisfaction of his approval.

Dick had asked you over to help him paint Damian’s bed frame as a surprise for him for not getting in any “altercations” at school this semester. You’d decided on coating it with his favorite color first and then fill it in with a collection of what Dick has “on good authority” are his favorite animals. It’s a fairly random assortment that you’re not sure adds to or disproves Dick’s credibility. You’d spent the better half of the afternoon googling animals you’d never heard of just to make sure you projected their likenesses accurately. Dick had been very clear that you had to be precise on the details because Damian would know if he was really looking at a komodo dragon painting or if it was “some common lizard.”

You sigh, “I hope he likes it. I’m worried we did it too childish for him.”

“He is a child,” Jason says plainly.

“But he is not childish,” you counter. And he sure isn’t. You’d had a hard enough time convincing Damian to watch cartoons, adding a colorful animal mural to his bedroom might be one step too far. You’re still trying to figure him out.

“He’ll like it,” he says firmly.

You smile, slipping around under his arm and tucking yourself into his side.

Not a moment later, Dick slings an arm around Jason's shoulder, grinning as he pulls his brother in close.

Jason’s immediately louring. "No, get away from me."

Dick, unfazed and still smiling, removes his arm and takes a big step to the right. You do the same, figuring he needs his space, but you get caught by the wrist before you can do more than sway to the side. 

“Not you.” 

He pulls you back under his arm, wrapping it around the front of your shoulders. You hook your fingers around his forearm, letting your hand hang.

You hear a double-clap from the other side of the room that has you both turning around to face Cass. 

She signs something to Jason with a fond smile on her face. 

You look back and forth between them as Jason waves her off. “What?”

He shakes his head, “It’s nothing. She said—she said we’re cute.”

You smile up at him and he deflects—not so subtly—and starts nudging you back towards where the group is gathered, now all standing. 

Dick’s quick to start bragging off to the room about how great of a job the two of you did and how really complex and daunting it actually is painting animals for a child.

As he talks, your eyes find Jason, who’s definitely about to roll his eyes any second now. A bit subconsciously, your hand comes up to brush Jason’s white streak of hair back, away from tickling his forehead. 

On the other side of Jason, Tim does the same, sweeping Jason’s hair back in a much more mocking manner. 

This gives way to Jason smacking his hand away, harder than he needed to.

"Wha—You let her do it!" Tim protests, overplaying how much the slap hurt.

Jason scowls, "She can do whatever she wants."

Tim drops his shoulders, looking at Jason as if he’d been scandalized. “Oh but I can’t?”

“Not if it involves touching me,” Jason grumbles.

Tim steps closer, putting a finger to Jason’s chest. “You’re such a—”

From the floor, Salem hisses up at Tim, successfully startling the teenager. “Auahh—”

He stumbles backwards, grimacing at the cat. 

“Fucking demon,” he hisses, walking away.

When Tim’s far enough away and Salem’s seemingly satisfied, he brushes up against your leg, purring. 

You peer down at him with a furrowed brow. 

“What’s Salem doing here?”

“I’m not doing this shit with you.”

“No, come on, 9 out of 10 times is what you said. How ‘bout just once? Beat me one time at anything, Jaybird.”

“Anything?” Jason asks like he knows damn well Dick can’t swear on that word.

Rightly so, Dick backtracks. “Something agreed upon.”

Jason throws his hands up, partially in exasperation, partially relenting.

Dick smoothly turns his back to him, announcing, “Opening up the room for ideas.”

Damian’s eye roll is almost audible from the corner armchair, where his attention is unmoved from intently sharpening a blade he’d recently come into possession of.

Bruce similarly remains unbothered in his seat, trying to read despite the distractions. 

“Ooh, okay. Okay.” Stephanie wiggles up a little on the couch. “You could race!”

Dick shakes his head negatively, “I literally just busted my knee up two days ago, Steph.”

“Convenient,” Jason mumbles.

“You were there!” Dick exclaims with an open mouth.

Steph continues, “Um…”

Cass waves to the room from her position upside down on the couch, head hanging down next to Stephanie’s legs. Attention successfully acquired, she signs, “Staring contest.”

Jason grimaces, “That sounds like a nightmare.”

Dick gives him a faux-smile.

“You should play chicken,” Damian chimes in, holding up his knife.

“No,” Bruce drones monotonously as he flips a page. 

“Tic tac toe?” Steph suggests.

Cass is already shaking her head as she scrunches up her mouth in thought.  

Jason rolls his eyes, “What are we, five?”

Dick nods, cracking his knuckles as he thinks. “No, we need something that really proves our worth.”

Bruce looks up from his book, staring numbly through his brow, but remains silent.

“You could arm wrestle,” Steph suggests.

The elder brother twitches at that, “Uh, no.”

Cass moves past that before a joke has the chance to be made. “Handstand contest?” she suggests.

Jason shrugs, “Yeah, sure.”

The elder brother looks at him incredulously. “You’ll do a handstand contest with me?”

“That’s what I just said.”

Dick scoffs, “Jaybird, I’m an acrobat, you’re just some guy.”

Jason, not giving him the courtesy of eye contact, pulls his sweatshirt off from his back. “Well, you’re a lot of things, aren’t you?”

Dick throws his head back with a squint.

Jason fishes his phone out of his pocket and Dick follows suit, offended stare maintaining all the while. 

No exchange is required as they both toss their phones across the room, landing together with a rough clatter on Damian’s lap. Damian’s resulting glare is borderline disgusted.

Dick starts them off, “Alright, go. One…two…”

Both men push up onto their hands, muscles flexing as they find their balance. Dick’s form is better, of course, but Jason looks to have a stronger foundation.   

They both hold strong as several minutes go by with the brothers only maintaining the attention of some of the room, and the interest of none of it.

Stephanie huffs and tilts her head, thoroughly unentertained with the consistency they’re both managing. 

“Starting to wish they’d picked something that moved along a little faster,” she murmurs to Cass.

Dick glances over at the younger brother, clearly displeased with his lack of trouble keeping up with him. He shuffles closer one hand at a time, using the decreased distance to poke at Jason with his foot, trying to knock him over.

Jason kicks him back harder, “Hey! Don’t be a dick—”

“Very funny,” Dick leers.

They both end up finding a struggle to keep balance and are forced to mind their own.  

A chime rings out from the corner that has heads turning briefly in his direction before coming back to the competition. 

“Whose was that?” Dick calls out.

Damian leans over and inspects the screens with disinterest. “Todd’s.”

Jason adjusts his position, “Who is it?”

Damian responds with your name. 

“And?”

He picks up the phone shrugging like he couldn’t care less, “She wants to know if you want to go see some movie.”

There’s a brief silence before Jason drops out of the handstand, standing up. 

Dick’s blood-flushed face peers up at him, bewildered. “Wait, what?”

The family watches with wide eyes as Jason picks his sweatshirt up off the floor and tugs it back on.

Stephanie gawks, bordering on laughing. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” he says simply.

Dick lets himself fall into a kneeling position with a huff, “You would rather go to some movie you don’t even know the name of than win a bet?”

Jason moues at him, “Uh, yeah.”

He tosses a twenty at Dick, and plucks his phone from Damian’s hand as he strolls past him, typing out a reply.

Cass sits up a bit and signs up to Stephanie, “Does he even like movies?” 

Bruce, now attention now fully removed from his book, watches Jason exit with the slightest hint of a smile. Dick sits dumbly on the floor, staring after him with an open-mouth. 

Damian twists the knife in his hands around contemplatively before rising to stand. 

“I will go,” he announces, dropping his blade onto the seat of the chair. Jason grumbles a no but Damian follows after him just the same.

you know what happened to the last guy that didn’t reblog? … 🔪🧨💥😵⚰️🪦

[gilverrwrites]

Oops

AN: Answer to an Anon regarding the Batboys reactions to finding their partner (during the early days of their relationship) sleeping with nothing on their lower half, or finding out they're not wearing underwear beneath their comfy bottoms. Gender Neutral!Reader Ft. Jason, Tim, Bruce, & Dick. In that order. No smut, but suggestive content below.

Jason is so dog-tired, too drained to make it back to his own place when he climbs through your window in the middle of the night. Normally he’d text or call ahead to ask if it was okay. But he’s done this a million times, and you’ve always told him that he doesn’t need to ask; he’s always welcome.

He’s already half asleep as he sluggishly kicks off his boots. He doesn’t notice your naked leg hanging out of the covers as he strips down to nothing but his vest and boxers. There’s a half moment of clarity as he stands above your sleeping form where he wonders if he should wake you, if only to alert you to his presence, but you look so peaceful, he doesn’t want to disturb you. He just wants to sleep.

So, he crawls into bed beside you and quickly dozes off. It’s not until hours later, as the sun peeps in between the curtains and he starts to wake that he realises something is off. Somehow, you’ve managed to become entangled during your sleep, which isn’t uncommon. Your back is to his chest, his arm draped around your waist, rough fingers under your oversized shirt and rested on your soft lower stomach. You mumble something dozily, rolling your hips in your sleep and his hands incidentally sink lower, and lower, before they touch something that he should certainly not be touching without permission.

“J-Jason? What’s going on.” You mumble, half-opened eyes staring at him blearily, having been marginally awakened by the ferocity of Jason ripping his hand away from you and jumping out of the bed.

“Nothing! Go back to sleep. I’ll call you later.”

Thanks to the low rise of your joggers, Tim's eyes are already glued to your hips as you lean over him to patch up a wound on his shoulder. It’s late, and quiet. You’re weary after he disturbed you in the middle of the night. He’s still feeling a little woozy from a knock to the head, and the way your lower body sways has him hypnotised, at least until you turn away from him, bending over to find something in your med kit. He’s distracted immediately by the garment label which is hanging out of your waistband at the back.

Without a second thought, he leans over to tuck it back in for you but as his fingers slip below the band you stand, having already started the motion to move back over to him. The sequence of mis-timed events results in your bottoms being pulled just low enough to bare your ass.

Perhaps if he was feeling 100% himself, Tim would have had the graciousness to look even a little bit guilty about it. You doubt it very much though. Instead, he bites his lips, eyes roving the curve of your backside before following the arc of your body right up to your face where he greets you with a lopsided but decisively provocative smile before whispering; “Oopssss.”

“If Punchline hadn’t already done it, I’d smack you upside the head.” You chide, brushing his hand away and pulling your pants back up much to Tim’s disappointment.

“Awh, c’mon. Don’t be like that.” He’s still smiling as you push him back into place so you can continue to see to his injuries. “Was just a happy accident.”   

There's a chill in your bones, one so sudden and biting that it jolts you awake. The first thing you notice is the imposing shadow at the end of your bed. Instinctively you shoot up into a seated position, pushing your body backwards and against your headboard until you start to recognise features of the silhouette before you; the lean shoulders, and stiff posture. The glaringly blankness of his chiselled lower face, and the emblem on his chest.

"Bru- Batman?" You exclaim irritated but relieved. “You scared me!”

Your sort-of-but-we-haven’t-quite-defined-it-yet-boyfriend doesn’t reply, and you start to worry again, inclining toward him unconsciously until he deliberately clears his throat. Between the mask and the darkness of the room, you’ve no idea what he’d been looking at exactly, but the polite, intentional turn of his head has it dawning on you quickly.

In an instant you snap your legs closed, embarrassed to have been so exposed but one panic fades to another as Bruce begins to rummage in your wardrobe, informing you that he has reason to believe you’re in danger and that he’s taking you to a safe house for your own protection as he hurtles underwear and pair of trousers at you.

Your nerves begin to calm as you sit in the passenger seat of The Batmobile listening carefully as he brings you up to speed with everything that’s happened and how he plans to fix it.

At least until he begins speaking in a voice that feels intentionally a little smoother than his vigilante persona would typically use. “If you’d like, you’re welcome to take your pants back off when we get there.” And again, you can’t tell where he’s looking, but the coy smile on his lips tells you all you need to know about what he’s thinking.  

Dicks always had a habit of hooking his fingers into the waist of your pants to get your attention by pulling you closer or to direct you around busy areas. Even before you’d started dating.

You’d woken before him, but he’d followed not long after, sensing your missing presence from the bed and following the smell of breakfast. It’s the most natural thing in the world for him to grab you by the drawstring band of your joggers as a greeting, planning on pulling you away from the sink so he can accost you with morning-breath-laced kisses.

There is a solid 10-second interval in which he stands, staring at you, stock still and silent as he registers the lack of barrier between his skin and yours, and a further 10 more as he examines your face, searching for signs of distress. When he finds nothing but bashful excitement he grins at you, devilish, sinking his fingers further down so he can graze the space just above your stirring sex before fisting the fabric to pull you closer.

“For me?” He quizzes with a quirked brow as he leans in close to you, still watching every micromovement of your face.

“For comfort.” You correct him with a playful grin, lacing your fingers in his shirt regardless.  

Feigning disappointment, he sucks on his teeth for a second, rolling his eyes and head back before turning to you with a pout. “An’ here I thought I was special.” Despite his ‘dismay’ you feel his free hand decisively press into the small of your back, holding you in place as the other begins to explore beneath your joggers.

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

doing some research..

[xxprincessciaraxx]

i've been on this app for over 10 yrs i want some friends pls or mutuals? so... if you like what i like say hi? follow? i'm 23

[redsupulse]

On Fire, Filled with Love

"Are you killing me finally?" He grew drowsy, on fire, filled with love. "Do it, yes."

Tim Drake x Reader, Interview with the Vampire/Devil's Minion inspired AU. Vampire!Tim Drake x Human!Journalist!Reader

MDNI, this fic is not explicit, but the overall series will be.

Warnings: Pre-Relationship, Stalking, Unhealthy Dynamics, Reader does hook up with someone else but it is only very vaguely described, breaking and entering, Minor Monster fucking (as much as vampires are monsters), Mind reading, Reader is Gender Neutral. Implications of a Sugar Daddy dynamic, minor mentions of blood, mentioned minor character death/murder.

AO3 Link Here. This is a direct sequel to my work, The Hunt Begins, and both are a prequel to my other fic, Beloved

-

It’s been a month since you’ve last seen the vampire who's been keeping you company. Tim’s schedule is inconsistent, but this is the longest you’ve gone without seeing him since you started actually getting along. Usually he’s only gone for a few days at a time - never any more than five. You don’t always speak, but he will lurk a couple steps behind you at least. After six months together, you’re beginning to think he’s gotten bored of you. You should be elated to be rid of your vampiric stalker. You aren’t.

Unfortunately, you can’t stop to wallow, you still have work to do. You go out, find the interesting stories in the world, sell what you write. Every time dusk comes around you expect for him to appear, and he doesn’t. So you continue on with your life. You end up in a bar after a particularly long interview, trying to relax your stressed nerves. Someone buys you a drink. He’s not bad looking, and he’s good at maintaining conversation. But he’s not Tim. 

But Tim’s left you. Who knows if he’s ever going to return?

It’s also been longer than you care to admit since you’ve gotten laid.

So you go home with him. You’ve already decided you’ll be out as soon as the deed is done, but why not have fun while it’s happening?

And it’s okay. The stranger has set a steady rhythm behind you, but your mind still wanders - always working a mile a minute to find out everything about everyone around you. You happen to glance at the window and realize his blinds are open.

Radiant green eyes stare back at you, glowing brightly in the dark. The realization forces a gasp out of you and a jolt of arousal down your spine. Tim is standing on the fire escape of the building next door, staring at you with hunger in his eyes. Part of your brain thinks you should probably stop this, tell your companion. Instead you shove your hand between your thighs and bring yourself off in a few quick touches of your hand. When your vision clears, you expect for Tim to be gone, a trick of your own mind, but he’s still standing on the fire escape of the adjacent building, now smirking. At this point you’ve completely drowned out what your… companion is doing, locked in a hypnotizing stare with your monster. Rise, his voice purrs in your head. It’s only then that you realize that the man you had gone home with had finished and vanished off to… somewhere. You rush to get off the bed and get dressed, only to be interrupted by… (Harlan? Halen? Hal? You can’t remember). “Oh, are you leaving already?” It’s hard to tell if he’s disappointed or relieved. Or you just don’t care.

“Uh, yeah, I have an early morning. Sorry.” You hunt for your shirt without looking up, pulling it on as you slide your feet back into your shoes, “I had fun, thanks for that.” 

He steps in front of you, blocking your way long enough to hand you a scrap of paper - probably with his number on it. You cram it in your pocket without thinking, then you’re out the door before he can say anything else.

Tim doesn’t join you at any point on your journey home, though you can feel his presence lurking on the edges of your mind. You stay up waiting for him until you physically can’t anymore. 

-

You awaken early the next afternoon, on your couch, still in the clothes you were wearing when you left your apartment the day before. Nothing of note has changed when you do a quick scan of your apartment before you shower.

It isn’t until you re-enter your bedroom that you spot two scraps of paper on your nightstand. One has been neatly ripped in half, directly through the center of the guy from last night’s number. The other is a sticky note from the pad on your desk, with “TD” initialed neatly in the center.

You ignore the way your heart flutters in your chest. 

-

You only go out for a few hours that day, too wired from the tease of your immortal companion returning to do anything productive with time. The sun goes down and you wander the city like a ghost waiting for a taste of his presence, but none comes. Dejected, you return to your apartment. You’re two steps into the door when you notice the trail of gift boxes. One rests on the table in your entryway, one on the edge of your kitchen counter. On your bookshelf, atop your dryer, the floor right in front of your bedroom door, and one last one on your bed. They increase in size as you go. Carefully, you begin unwrapping them as you perch on the end of your bed. A basic silver chain, a press pass for your favorite band’s first show in a month, a bottle of your good (expensive) perfume, a new bag for when you’re out interviewing people, and a brand new laptop. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who left these. If you were a sane person the idea that he can break into your apartment at your moment's notice would scare you.

Instead it sends a bolt of arousal through you.

You’re still not entirely sure how the whole “vampiric telepathy” works - but you decide to try something out anyway. After a minute of focusing only on thoughts of Tim, you think Thank you for the gifts. The silence that follows kills your excitement. You know it’s not limited by distance (he once started speaking to you while you were in the middle of nowhere America and he was - or at least claimed to be - in Dubai). Maybe it’s one way limited?

This does only work one way, Tim’s voice in your head supplies, though if you think hard enough it makes the thought louder for us to hear. 

A smirk breaks across your face, aw, were you keeping an ear out for me?

A moment of silence - you have particularly loud and annoying thoughts. 

Something is making you act up, maybe it’s the thrill of his return or maybe it’s the hurt you’ve been feeling about your abandonment. No, you counter, I think you like me or something. Why else would you get me a, your search of the laptop sitting in front of you finally loads, thirteen hundred dollar laptop? You try to play it cool, keeping the shock out of your… voice? Thoughts? Who needs a laptop this expensive? Why do they make laptops this expensive?

You can hear Tim’s laugh in your head, this is mind reading, dear, I heard all of that. 

Whatever, I give up on trying to look cool. Thank you again for the gifts, but I have to go to bed, I have an early morning tomorrow.

What is so important that it interrupts our time together? He sounds petulant, rejected. You hear him huff at just the mere passing of those words.

My boss is paying me to go to Pompeii to follow some leads, early flight. Another huff from the terrifying predator of the night. Goodnight Tim.

A few moments of silence, then, Goodnight.

-

It all comes to a head one night soon after, walking the ruins of Pompeii - places you probably aren’t supposed to be this late, unsupervised. There’s not a security guard or another person in sight though, late enough in the night that the last of the crowds from the evening tours have left. Something tugs at your brain, bringing you down a series of complicated paths you probably won’t be able to retrace. It calls you into the ruins of one of the houses. For a moment, you’re standing alone in the dark, then in the next, Tim has emerged to stand in front of you. He slips an arm around your waist, kisses your cheek, and whispers, “would you like to come inside?” He’s warm with the blood of a fresh kill. The pair of you enter the house, the low ceilings and his arm around your waist giving an air of intimacy.

That’s when it hits you. He’s not going to kill you. He won’t make you like him, but he isn’t going to kill you. Your game won’t end like that. He-

“Of course I love you,” Tim turns to you so you're pressed together, chest to chest. His arm doesn’t leave your waist. “How could you not know? If I didn’t love you, I would have killed you months ago.” 

There’s a hesitation, just for a moment, as you process this realization. A many centuries old monster, a predator who sustains himself on killing people like you, has fallen for you. You should be terrified of this. And yet, you find you’ve fallen for him in return, in all of his forms. More monster than man, more man than monster, it doesn’t matter. 

A soft, restrained smile graces Tim’s face as he looks into your eyes. He bends, slowly, and presses his lips to your neck, right over the mysterious scar. Sharp teeth pierce your neck, bringing a sudden pain and a burning warmth that flows through your body. You prepare yourself for a swoon that never comes, as Tim pulls away just as quickly as he bites down. He probably took less blood than your last cooking mishap did. His arms leave your waist, fiddling with something behind you. He brings one of his wrists up to his mouth and bites down. When he turns it toward you, “drink beloved.” So you do.

The first touch of vampiric blood to your shocks through your entire nervous system. It’s like your body is getting electrified in ways that would kill a normal human. All at once, the quiet ruins seem to be filled with whispers, as if the ghosts who haunt this place have risen to see your exchange. It cuts off soon after, the bite on Tim’s wrist healing like nothing was ever there at all. There’s blood all over your chin and neck that Tim quickly dives in to clean up. You don’t know what of it is his blood and what of it is yours. He traces a line from your collar bones up to your lips. Finally, finally bringing you into a kiss. “You’re now mine,” he whispers as he pulls away.

“Haven’t I always been yours?”

[rainydaygotham]

Imagine “borrowing” the left glove of your man’s super suit for a bit while he’s napping and stitching a small band of embroidery thread around the ring finger. The thread is colored only slightly darker than the original color of the fabric. It was so inconspicuous that no one who wasn’t looking for it would notice. In fact, it takes your vigilante fiancé about a week to find it himself.

He has to do a little double take, momentarily forgetting what he was doing in favor of inspecting his hand. It’s not an accidental loose thread or anything, it’s an intentional alteration to his uniform, meant to be there. And it’s very clearly supposed to be a wedding ring, so he knows exactly how it got there. He just doesn’t know when. Oh, hopefully he hasn’t been oblivious to your handiwork for long. The thought of you thinking he knew about it and just didn’t care was agonizing. He cares, baby! He cares so much you wouldn’t believe.

It makes him giddy. You’ve marked him. What an adorable thing to do.

He was planning to get the ring tattooed onto his finger already, so he wouldn’t lose the real one out in his dangerous life of fighting crime. But even that would be under his gloves, invisible to anyone on the streets of the city. This, however, announced it loud and clear: sorry, but this vigilante is taken.

When he makes it back from the mission that night, he finds you lounging in your shared bedroom. You’re too engrossed in whatever you’re doing on your laptop to notice him creeping in yet, so he gets a moment to just admire you. To his delight, he recognizes the fabric that clings to your body as one of his shirts.

You finally realize he’s there, lookin’ like the cat who got the cream,

“Hey Babe, was it a good night?”

“You want to marry me~” he croons.

“We are literally engaged,” you shake your head in fake-exasperation.

“I found your little gift,” he gives you the clue to why he’s got hearts in his eyes.

“Oh,” your smile gets bigger, “that.. I take it you like it?”

He takes your head in his hands, thumbs gently brushing the tops of your cheeks, “it’s perfect,”

He presses a cute little kiss onto your nose. He laughs as you open your eyes and whine about having expected a real kiss. Well, he’ll just have to give you one of those too, then… or maybe a few…

[shortnsweetsposts]

Child!Damian: *Trying to hug Bat!reader*

Bat!reader: Leave alone, baby.

Child!Damian: *Looked up at Bat!reader with them big ol'eyes*

Bat!reader: ...

Bat!reader, starts ugly sobbing and hugged child!Damian back: YOU'RE MY BABY. YOU'RE MY BABY AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.

Batfam: Oh wow