#i love when they ask him what he takes pictures of in gotham at night and he says nightlife. hes such a twerp

[deadsetobsessions]

“DIDJA SEE THAT, DANNY?!” Tim, a scrawny eleven year old now, excitedly smacked Danny’s arm.

“Ow. Yes, yes I did.”

“Oh, gosh, I have to tell Jazz about this!!” The kid waved his arms about wildly, grinning from ear to ear.

“Jaso- I mean, Robin, smiled at me! And said he liked my t-shirt!! Oh my god, he likes literature puns, he even laughed! And then he punched the bad guy in the face! Look! I even saved the tooth!”

“Okayyy, nope!” Danny plucked the tooth and tossed it, ignoring Tim’s betrayed face. “I’ll trade you that for this.”

Danny Held out a piece of paper with Robin’s and Batman’s sigil on it, from when he asked them to sign it after they “saved” the two brothers from the two-bit thugs trying to mug them.

“Oh. My. God. This is like the best day of my life!! I love you, Danny! You’re the best brother ever!! Oh my god! I have to get Nightwing’s signature!!!”

Danny felt a rush of warmth at Tim’s proclamation of affection. Ah, he should probably step in.

“Hey, wait, no, we’re not going to Blüdhaven for you to stalk another vigilante.”

“It’s not just any old vigilante-!” Tim ignored Danny’s dramatic clutching-pearls gesture of mock hurt. “It’s Nightwing. The original Robin! He gave me my first ever hug!”

Danny paused. God dammit.

“…Fine.”

“YESSSSSS!!!!”

——

Danny-

“I’m gonna be Robin whether you want me to or not!”

-is so damn tired.

“Tim. I’m literally a vigilante ghost. What makes you think I’d be stupid enough to argue with a kid who runs around Gotham at night to take pictures of other vigilantes?”

Tim deflated. “Oh. Honestly, I thought you’d put up more of a fight…”

Jazz laughed and ruffled Tim’s hair. “I definitely couldn’t stop Danny when he went out. He trusted me to support him and I trusted him to come to me if he was injured, though. Can you promise me that, Tim?”

“Yeah… okay, Jazz, I promise.” Tim promised, even if he was still pouty.

Danny chimed in.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m totally worried and I’m gonna hover like a mother hen when you go out, but again, I know how stubborn and crazy we vigilante types have to be.” Danny paused. “Do you want me to put up a token protest?”

Tim nodded, sulking. “Yes, please. I had a speech planned out.”

Jazz and Danny exchanged amused glances.

“Oh, okay, my bad, kiddo. Here, let’s start from the top.”

“Okay. Ahem,” Tim straightened his back, settling into his previous mulish expression once more. “I’m gonna be Robin whether you want me to or not!”

Danny placed an appropriately disapproving frown on his face. “No, you can’t! It’s dangerous! You could get hurt! You’re just a child!”

Tim launched into his speech. “But I can’t stay still and do nothing when people are getting hurt! Even…!”

They were gonna be here for a while. There was definitely something about Batman going on a spiral because Jason wouldn’t be able to walk again after the Joker got to him. Danny wondered if ectoplasm could help. He might offer, if it actually had a change of getting Tim out of the vigilante business.

But that’s for later, because they had time. Jazz was on Spring Break… and they’re still staying here for free, after all of these years.

“So, how are you going to convince Robin to let you be Robin?” Jazz asked Tim.

Tim froze. “I… hadn’t thought of that yet.”

“Well, you could always remind him of the fact that we saved him from the Joker. He seemed pretty ready to leave the Robin mantle, the last time I saw him as Phantom.”

“I don’t want to blackmail him into it!” Tim whined.

“It’ll just be a suggestion, Tim.” Jazz smiled patiently.

“Besides,” Danny continued, smirking mischievously at his adopted little brother. “If you were actually blackmailing him, you’d pull out the photos where he ate dirt.”

“I guess that’s true…” Tim mumbled. “I know! I’ll have to follow them to see how I can best approach him!”

"I think that's called stalking," Jazz deadpanned.

"Well, it's not any worse than what he's already done." Danny shrugged at his older sister. "Sure, kid. Why not? Do whatever you want."

"I was planning to!" Tim bounced off to grab his photography gear. Jazz stared off after him.

"Should we be encouraging that?"

"More like can we actually stop him?" Danny leaned back, lazily completing his GED assignments. Jazz sighed.

"Guess not. Make sure he doesn't get in trouble."

"Do you even know how hard that is, Jazz?" Danny complained, dodging the whack Jazz sent at the back of his head. She smirked at him.

"Womp, womp, Danny. How does karma taste today?"

Danny flipped her off as he put the last punctuation on the paper. He heard a clatter and groaned.

“I’m gonna go watch Tim stalk Batman for the night. Want anything from the store?”

Jazz hummed. “Get me the specialty strawberry ice cream, from that one place?”

“The one that’s definitely a front for Falcone’s money laundering??”

“Yeah. They make good strawberry ice cream.”

“Sure.”

Danny went ghost and flew straight through the walls to catch Tim sneaking out by the scruff of his collar.

“No. Bad Tim.”

“Awww, come on Danny!”

[fluentmoviequoter]

Lost Time

Requested Here!

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!wife!reader

Summary: Jason comes home to you, his wife, after a mission and makes up for lost time.

Warnings: fluff and comfort! brief mention of the Lazarus Pit and human trafficking

Word Count: 1.3k+ words

A/N: I really want to write a lengthy oneshot for Jason but I don't know if I capture him well enough. I don't get many DC requests but I love them so much!!

Picture from Pinterest (WFA Jason >>>)

Masterlist | DC/Jason Todd Masterlist | Request Info

Jason Todd leaves, it’s what he does. Sometimes there are warnings, direct and indirect, but other nights he leaves while you sleep or simply doesn’t come home when he should. That’s who he is, what he does. There is more to Jason than meets the eye; he isn’t just Jason, Red Hood, or Bruce Wayne’s dead and nearly forgotten son. One piece of Jason makes him whole: being your husband brings him back, every single time. Jason leaves, but the time you spend alone is spent in confidence that he will come back to you, even if he’s broken and crawling.

While Jason is in Blüdhaven helping his brothers with a mission that Bruce doesn’t know about, you spend the time alone missing him. He hates leaving you, but you understand. That doesn’t mean, however, that you just wait for him to come home. Being married is supposed a 50/50 arrangement, yet you have given everything to Jason and there is not a single thing you wouldn’t do for him.

Tonight, nearly 96 hours after you last saw Jason, you make yourself comfortable with one of his books. The pages are yellowed from use, and highlights and notes fill the margins and the empty pages. Each word reminds you of Jason, and though you miss him, you refuse to look at his empty side of the bed. In the time since he left, promising to come back to you with a kiss and a tap to your wedding ring, you have read several of his books, cooked his favorite meal, and baked his favorite goodies. The distractions you created are all centered around Jason because despite what you tell yourself about needing to think about other things, Jason Todd takes up every single one of your thoughts. He’s captivating, and you never want to escape him.

Your phone beeps as you finish a page of Frankenstein. After taking a calming breath, you read the message from Barbara.

The bats are Gotham-bound.

The message makes you smile, and you rise from the bed to prepare for Jason’s return. He has come home without a scratch, drenched in blood, and everything in between. In sickness and health, you vowed, and you plan to keep it. With his favorite food already prepared and water heating in the kettle on the stove, you sit on the couch and wait for his entrance. The front door is behind you, and you watch as the Red Hood lands on your fire escape and expertly navigates into your home. His home.

The couch is empty by the time he turns from the now-closed window, and your arms loop around his waist as he moves. Jason chuckles at your immediate attention and pulls his helmet off.

“Miss me?” he asks.

You can hear his smile in his voice, and as Jason’s arms wrap around you, you sigh and release every fear and worry that had been pushed into the back of your mind.

“I need to shower,” Jason says, though he doesn’t move his hands from your back. “Blüdhaven is gross.”

“And Gotham is known for its cleanliness,” you argue.

“Get off,” Jason grumbles.

He raises his hands to your shoulders and easily pushes you back. You look at him as you raise your hands to hold his wrists. Jason’s gaze is soft and his touch is softer.

“Ten minutes,” he requests quietly.

“Someone needs pampering,” you tease. “Take your time. There’s food and tea if you want any.”

“Just wan’ you,” he murmurs.

Jason leans in and kisses your forehead quickly. He avoids your hands as you reach out for him. You laugh as he walks away, and the sound brings Jason home. He’s physically home, yes, but he is only home when you are completely and wholly with him.

The water echoes through the apartment as Jason enters the shower, and you prepare two mugs of tea before carrying them into the bedroom. You would wait forever for Jason, but as you lean back and close your eyes, content listening to him move through your shared home, you know that you’ll never have to wait long.

When Jason enters the bedroom clad in a pair of Wonder Woman sweatpants and smiles at you, everything seems better. The darkest Gotham day can’t cast a shadow on what you and Jason have. Before Jason left, he told you all you needed to know about the mission, and you won’t bring it up again. If he wants to talk about it, he will, and you’ll listen.

You raise the blanket as Jason approaches the side of the bed. He doesn’t hesitate to join you and pull you closer. After looping your arms over his shoulders, you push your fingers into Jason’s wet curls and twist them gently around your fingers. His white streak is closest to you, yet you concentrate your attention elsewhere to keep your eyes locked on his.

“You read it again, didn’t you?” Jason asks.

His eyes threaten to flutter closed, but he forces them open to talk to you.

“Read what?” you whisper.

“Tell me what I missed,” he requests.

You know he can see his books piled on your nightstand, but you enjoy the smile he gives you when you pretend not to know what he’s talking about. Jason pulls your hands away from his hair, opting to hold you against his side. You lay a hand over his heart and gently trace the bottom of a scar. You know his scars by heart, and each story behind them is ingrained in your memory.

“Not much,” you answer after a moment.

“Did you do anything? Because everything you do is important, and I want to hear about it,” Jason argues.

You lean closer and spread your fingers flat against his skin. His heart thrums steadily beneath your hand, and you think your heart beats in time with his.

“Maybe you just married me for the post-mission cuddles,” you say.

“Or maybe I just married you because I love you. I love you for accepting all of me and loving the parts that I don’t let anyone see.”

“Jason,” you hum.

“You didn’t tell me about what I missed,” he replies.

The first raindrop hits the window, and Jason is reminded that he’s back in Gotham. He’d move to Metropolis and listen to Clark as long as you were by his side, but being in your arms in his home town is a feeling unlike any other.

“I’ll take it you didn’t go to the manor,” you deflect.

“Why would I when I have a beautiful wife waiting at home for me and four days to make up for? Lost time with you will always be more important than Bruce.”

You sigh before you begin telling him about what you did. There isn’t much to tell. You read one of his books, cleaned, cooked, baked, and read another book.

“You baked?” Jason interrupts. “And didn’t bring it up until now?”

“I thought time with me was more important.”

Jason furrows his brows as he turns, pulling you to lay on top of him. When you first started dating, Jason was hesitant to initiate any sort of physical touch. Not long before, he had been Gotham’s most-feared crime lord and the rage caused by the pit was still present. Now, there is nothing to stop Jason from touching you: no fear of hurting you, no concern of scaring you away, and no doubt that you won’t love him once you see his darkest secrets. Jason’s scars, his past, and his nightly activities make him the man you love, and you love those parts of him, not the other way around.

As you cuddle with the man who recently scared human traffickers into turning themselves in to the authorities rather than running into him again, you simply enjoy being together. Your husband Jason and Red Hood Jason aren’t the same, yet you love them both equally.

“Do you really want to make up for lost time?” you ask over the rain.

Jason thinks your voice is more soothing and melodic than any rainstorm could dream of being. He pries his eyes open to answer, “Every second of it.”

You nod and lay your head against his chest. With your hearts pressed to one another and your fingers intertwined with Jason’s, you know that you are loved, and Jason knows you will always be here when he comes home.

You’re nearly asleep when you mumble, “’S a lotta time.”

Jason smiles but doesn’t move because he doesn’t want to disturb you. “Never enough time with you,” he whispers against your temple.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Is there any way I could request more of Danny's Grill? I keep re reading it and it's so great!

Danny's mansion amazed Tim, which said a lot given that he had lived in the Drake and Wayne Manors. It seemed almost like a castle, with its four floors and a few towers (four at each corner of the fenced-off stone. Danny had his property enclosed. )

Everything screamed old money and was well taken care of. He also was surprised to find that the whole place had a lot of natural light.

The drive out of Gotham got them away from the dark cloudy skies to wide blue, and the mansion had plenty of strategically placed windows that caught the sun to light up the rooms.

It was likely that way since the place was obviously built before electricity. Even the air felt lighter, sweater, and caused ease to rest in his bones. Tim found himself strolling through the place, oddly at peace with the silence.

He had taken a dip in Danny's pool, adoring how it was designed to resemble a natural river, complete with a waterfall. It was still a pool, with the proper level of chlorine and tile floor, but there were rocks and multiple plants all around that really sold it to him.

The waterfall was made from unevenly stacked rocks as if carved out of a cliffside. He enjoyed sitting near it, flouting in in the rippling water and listening to the falling water.

Tim found a makeshift bench from the stacked rocks right under the waterfall, where he could comfortably sit down and have the water reach his shoulders. He found himself in that same spot often over the week since he came to stay with Danny.

He was in a fluffy red bathrobe- and nothing else- having just finished a shower to wash off the pool's chlorine. His bare feet patted against the tile floor as Tim once more appreciated the artistic white and gold wallpaper.

He loved that it had leaf-like designs that weren't all over but small enough to give the place a pop of color.

He was still thinking of a destination, wandering about the large building while waiting for Danny to return.

Danny has also been a gracious host. After the first night, he had made him some food and offered him a room across from his, just as large as the master room. It was a lovely white with gold trimming, matching the rest of the mansion but left room to decorate the walls to his hearts content.

Tim hasn't, but Danny seemed rather insistent that he could if he would like to. That Tim had the option open to him. Danny, he came to find, was all about giving people choices.

What did they want to eat? Whatever Tim was in the mood for.

What should they do? If Tim was okay with being around people, they would go out and take pictures. If he was having an overwhelmed day, then Tim could find his own little corner to sit.

Was it okay if Danny gave him friendly hugs or pats? Only if he asked Tim before going in for a hug.

Could Tim walk around in nothing but a bathrobe? Of course! If it made him feel better, Danny could even avoid the entire west side of the mansion so he wouldn't have to see him if he thought like clothes were a bother.

It was enjoyable but also baffling.

Tim has never met someone who gave him as much attention as Danny did but also respected all his boundaries. He enjoyed talking about them, setting them, and even seemed to glow whenever Tim carefully tested the waters, by placing some that would have upset his past friends and family.

Another thing that needed to be clarified about Danny was that he plainly didn't make any sense at all. Tim had always assumed Danny was middle class- maybe high middle- since he ran his own food truck and all but it was obvious by his house that he didn't need it.

Danny's family- from what Tim had been able to uncover- had always been low, middle class up until Danny had been fifteen. Then their luck turned when a rich distant relative by the name of Pariah Dark willed Danny all his fortunes.

Who was Pariah Dark? What happened to him? Why was Danny the only one he left his money to and not all of the Fentons? Why did this property sit for years without any record of usage yet still look brand new?

There was also the question of whether Danny was human.

Tim is sharp when finding small details that lead to clues that lead to answers.

It's both a curse and a blessing.

In this case, he noticed little things about Danny; his tendency to not notice the cold weather, his slight winces when loud noises were near, his graceful steps that were sometimes a tad bit off of gravity, his eyes seemed to change color- blue and green- and the way he would stare into shadows, gaze following something that Tim could not see.

Tim could have assumed Danny had some mental issues- who didn't at this point?- but he felt that wasn't the real reason or not all of it.

He couldn't explain it, but Danny felt like more. Especially when he returns from Gotham because the air feels aware of his arrival. Like it got excited that Danny was back.

Was the mansion sentient like the House of Mystery? Or was it an extension of Danny himself?

Tim had accompanied Danny on a few of his food truck runs. Mostly as a chasier but Danny had beamed when he asked if he could join him three days into his stay.

He did to observe how Danny interacted with the people of Gotham. Just like the air gane a certain something, whenever Danny sold his ware and the people thanked him, he seemed to puff up in strength.

Not the pride in his work kind of puff up but an actual burst of energy as if though he had taken an energy drink. This was doubly so when he gave the street kids free meals. Helping them seemed almost like a drug to Danny.

It begged the question of whether it was, in a sense, a drug. Because Tim could see all the tiny hints that helping people seemed to do much more for his friend. He had dilated pupils, a droopy smile, and random bursts of energy, and he even got a bit snappy when he went too long helping.

Tim could even claim that it was as if Danny was making Deals, and he did not dismiss his hypothesis because Tim had already dealt with aliens, demons, and gods as Red Robin.

Fae or other magical creatures wouldn't be as far-fetched as he once thought.

Did that mean Danny Fenton was never fully human or that something had happened to him that changed him?

There were many questions. Not enough answers.

Yet despite all of that, Tim couldn't find it in himself to think Danny was dangerous. If anything he could only safely conclude Danny lived and breath to protect others.

Tim, the sole attention to his protective tendencies due to proxy, was all but wrapped in a blanket of affection and respect. It could drive a guy to do something silly, like hang up his cowl, resign from WE and live the rest of his life as a pampered prince awaiting for his King.

How odd.

Tim never wanted to do any of those things, but he felt he would if Danny asked. The best part? He knew Danny would never ask that of him which made him want to stay even more.

It's too bad all good things have an end. Tim thinks wistfully. He would much rather spend his days here, but his family was anxious about the lack of check-in.

Tim didn't want them to find out about Danny and had chosen to send a delayed message from the Nest, letting them know he was undercover, infiltrating a possible new magical court. The Bats knew not to risk his cover but they also wanted some proof he was doing alright.

He had asked Danny if he could go to Gotham for a quick trip, and despit the saddness in his blue eyes, Danny always let him. He even gave him the keys to a his car, walking him to the gate with a promise the gates were always opoen to Tim.

Tim would use those visits to catch up on WE work and deposit information packages at Bat checkpoints. He would also pick up coded folders from other family members who wanted to keep him in the loop should their cases overlap.

It's been three weeks since he came here; in that time, Jason had cracked down on pimps and working people. The family was helping him, as Jason was attempting to fulfill a favor that someone had cashed in and was struggling to find the working boy his contact was worried about.

Apparently, the guy was regularly getting roughed up and was underage to boot. Tim hopes Jason finds the jerks hurting him. He would love to help but he had to figure out Danny Fenton first.

The air brighten, snapping Tim out of his thoughts.

Danny was home.

He turned towards the main gate, scurrying to make it to the front door before Danny could finish driving up the drive way and park his car under neeath the shadow parking spots.

His heart fluttered as he barely slide into the main hall way and the wood of the door swung open. Danny steps in, still wearing his black t-shirt and jeans that he favored when working his truck.

"Welcome home!" Tim tells him, watching Danny's whole face break into a wide grin. It was like dawn breaking over the horizion and it made him feel all sorts of warm.

Danny was definitely beaurtyful enough to be otherworldly.

"I'm home, Alvin." Danny pauses and then gestures to his robe, his smile turning warm and fond. "Another late swim?"

"I like the water. It helps my bones," He says, shrugging his shoulders.

Danny hums. "I could ask a friend of mine to install a hot watered pool for you."

Tim considers it. He wants to say no but he just knows the mansion will rat him out. Danny seemed to always know when a lie is spoken here. Another check in the Fae theory.

"If....if it's not a bother, that would be nice." He says suddenly overcome with shyness. The feeling vanishes at the utter delight and green eyes of Danny.

"It's never a bother! The east wing has a smaller pool that rarely gets used. I'll make some calls and have it turn into an artificially hot spring for you." Danny chirps. "It would help me relax too. You would not belive the fight I had with Robin today."

Tim stills. "You fought Robin?"

"Not physically." Danny corrected but still shook his head sadly. "We disagreed on the case he's helping Red Hood with."

"What case?" Are Damian and Jason working together on the working boy's case? Or was it something else? And more importantly did he try Danny's food?!

He may come back for more if he did, and Tim's personal cheat truck was no longer his own!

"I'm not sure of the details, but they are trying to map out all the working girl's corners. He was upset when I told him I would not release that information to a child." Danny sighs. "I know he's Robin, but I could sense how uncomfortable it made him feel, you know? It made my core ache, but Robin took it as me not wanting to respect him as a hero. It was a whole thing."

Tim has so many questions he feels like he might just burst. It's only years of training that had him clamping down on all but one. "You're helping the Bats catch prostitutes?"

Danny's eyes widen "No! No! Not the employees themselves, just their sick pimps. I would never rat them out."

Tim nods once. "Okay."

"I mean it, Alvin. I would never"

And the blue eyes have flickered to green again. Interesting.

But he can't help but relax smiling at Danny. "I know. Thank you for helping them though."

Danny's face flushes, and then he hastily looks away. Coughing into his fist, he mutters, "Are you hungry? I still have some leftover Pizza from today's menu."

"Starved. Want to watch a moive while we eat?"

"Yeah, sounds good-are you-I mean, will you be-um" Danny fumbles over his words gesturing at him. Tim tilts his head in confusion, wondering why he sounds so nervous, until Danny finally blurts. "Is that all you're going to wear?"

"Yeah. It's soft." He says playing with the robe's sleeves and Danny swallows.

"Alright. Okay. I um I'll get the pizza. Will you go pick the moive and get it ready?"

Tim beams, twisting on his heel to do just that and catching the reflection of Danny clutching his chest and screaming silently into a closed fist in a nearby wall mirror. His face is redder than before, and the house ripples with excitement, glee, warmth, and happiness.

Interesting indeed.

[apocalypse-shuffle]

DICK GRAYSON & JASON TODD | BATFAMILY (assorted canon)

────────────────────

────────────────────

“Long Overdue: Epilogue” (Dick Grayson & Batmom!Reader), (Jason Todd & Batmom!Reader) and (background Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on a raid when they’re overwhelmed. -Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.

| SFW, canon typical action/violence, cursing?, mentions of grief, past death of a child

| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source: Gotham Knights video game)

| 2k+ words

| parts: one, spurt, two, three, four, five, six/six point five, seven. (series masterlist)

You walk out of the weapons cache lighter than how you walked into it and head directly for your eldest.

“Dick what the hell?”

Said man, halfway through what looks like calf stretches, sits up and throws a slight frown your way.

“What? What’d I do?”

And bless him but he’s actually thinking it over. Eyes sliding to the side and lips pursing and everything. Racking his brain over what mess he forgot to get himself out of this time.

Somewhere behind you Jason starts laughing at Dick so when he passes by you flick him on the arm. The drama queen then makes a whole show of blowing you off with a half assed ‘ow’. Your eyes meet the dark depths of the cave ceiling for a second as you beg for strength before they lock on Dick once more.

From there all you have to do is purse your lips and raise a brow for him to catch on. His arms fling into the air.

“He said he’d ‘take care of it’, and I haven’t seen you since then. Fuck me for thinking he actually did it! And he only felt the need to tell me three nights ago so it’s not like you’re the only one.”

Your shoulders start to shake and you move closer until you can nudge him. His arms drop and he huffs.

“Easy, little D, I’m just teasing. Don’t beat yourself up over your father’s horrible communication skills, okay?”

“Don’t worry I won’t,” he says.

You do catch the nasty look he throws the cave entrance with despite what he’s said, and the easy tone he’s said it with, however.

“Actually,” Jason pipes up, helmet back on and voice once again skewed. “I’m still hung up on your shit communication skills. Nightfall? Since when has that been a thing?”

He jabs a finger in your direction while pacing around to Dick’s other side. Dick doesn’t do anything but follow the younger’s antics with his eyes.

You laugh, shrugging, and lean back on the cave wall beside the desk. You're still within spitting distance of the boys but you can’t bring yourself to travel any further.

“I’ve been in the game longer than Bruce has, but mostly under an independent contractor. It wasn’t till I came to Gotham that I changed my suit and started calling myself Nightfall; that gimmicky shit is contagious after all.”

“Immensely goddamn contagious,” Jason mutters darkly. He throws a glare Dick’s way that translates pretty perfectly even with the helmet to get him to knock off the staring, but you get the feeling the older only looks away because grilling you is a more pressing matter.

In the next moment Dick snaps his fingers, “You know what I still don’t get? How come we never found out? I mean you didn’t tell me until I was in Blud already.”

That question you can’t shrug away as easily. A grimace crosses your face and Jason makes an intrigued ‘ohh’ sound that honestly makes you want to flip him off. How are you being cajoled by your children right now?

“Well…” you kiss your teeth. “I was in love.”

The “Gross,” Jason lets out is instantaneous and he holds a hand up - it's a flawless reminder that 19 is not yet fully grown. “Forget I asked.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s not that damn bad. It’s just that when we first got Dick Bruce thought it’d be best if he had a greater sense of normalcy out of the cape, and I agreed; one vigilante parent was enough. Then we just kept that same dynamic when we got you,” you gesture to Jason and he tilts his head.

“I’m still not seeing how that relates to the completely unnecessary ‘in love’ comment you made earlier.”

“Jason,” you scold. “I’m getting there, goddamn.”

Dick poorly muffles a laugh and you give him a hard look before rolling your shoulders.

“Back in the day, before Bruce stopped acting like we were a unit and more like I was a casualty of war in the waiting-” you take a deep breath and cross your arms, closing your eyes against the white lights of the cave.

You can hear the way the boys falter, likely glancing to one another to figure out what to do before they each take a step forward.

“Mom-” Dick calls.

“You don’t have to-” Jason’s saying at the same time, their voices overlapping, and you shake your head.

“It’s fine,” you say. You blink your eyes open; both brothers have stilled but they’re balancing forward like they think you’re gonna drop. You huff. “Point is, there was a time where he could’ve convinced me of anything. He used to look at me like I hung the fucking moon just to provide people free light to see, you know? So at a certain time I chose not to tell you two because I didn’t want to challenge the perception of me that you had gotten from Bruce. That’s why you didn’t know, I didn’t want you to think I was as bad as the people you were fighting every night; the people who took away your parents from you. Dick running off was what made me finally spill, but you died years before I would’ve been ready to tell you, Jay.”

Jason clears his throat, “Uh. That why you and hi- Bruce separated?”

“Not really,” you sigh, shaking your head. “It wasn’t Bruce before…it was Bruce after. After you died we didn’t just bounce back…so eventually things between us soured. I loved him but expecting someone to put up with you constantly pushing them away isn’t fair,” you shrug. “How Bruce saw me stopped mattering as much after that.”

Dick nods, lining up what you’ve said to his own memory of the aftermath and coming up with a corresponding connection.

“Yeah, you and Bruce argued for hours after you met Tim that first time…and then some more when Stephanie became Robin. Hell, even by the time I’d gotten back earthside you and Bruce were down right frosty when you were next to each other even though you were trying to hide it from us.”

“Yeah,” you grunt. “That’s all we tend to do now. Stay mad.”

Staring off into the distance Dick nods and Jason catches your eye, or maybe the other way round.

Whatever expression he is looking at you with is impossible to place but he is definitely watching you. Uncannily all the boys had Bruce’s tendency to look at things, and by extension people, like they were puzzles to solve. Which came with the added bonus of the recipient of said stare being able to feel it. Feel the weight of being dissected and picked apart as if it was a physical thing.

Most buck under that level of analysis. Wholly used to the originator of that stare though you continue on as usual. If he wasn’t going to ask then you had nothing to say.

After it becomes clear you won’t be coughing anything more up Jason backs off, pushing the conversation towards lighter material until Dick and him are carrying the back and forth together. They play off of each other in stunted stops and starts, and barely concealed hostility on Jason’s part, but their awkward attempts at light hearted banter still get your mind out of the gutter you’d landed in.

Ten minutes of forced jokes and almost insults later and Jason starts giving less than subtle hints at wanting to head out. After that it doesn’t take long before he comes over, and he doesn’t reach out to you but he does softly knock your shoulders together.

“See you later, Ma,” he says for your ears alone.

“Goodbye Jason,” you respond even though you’d rather never have him leave your side again.

You watch him go and are drastically reminded that your eyes have been incessantly brimming with tears this whole time when a few slip down your face with little prompting.

A few more beads follow the path of the others after you catch sight of the truly cracked look on Alfred’s face when Jason comes up to him before there’s an arm slinging across your shoulders and Dick’s urging you into a hug.

You take it. You raised some good kids, you’ll give yourself that much. Even if there were some major fuck ups along the way.

“It’s kinda surreal, isn’t it?”

“Oh absolutely,” you croak. “I like it though.”

Dick shrugs, “Yeah. It wouldn’t really be us if things got too predictable anyway.”

He waits a beat and then, “So who’s updating Babs?”

“Let me guess,” you deadpan, “he told you two at the same time?”

“Pretty much. Which that, combined with everything that happened with Steph and The Birds, and having to break all this to Cass means her fuse is waaay shorter than usual.”

“Not it,” you proclaim.

Dick’s mouth drops open, his gaze snapping to you.

“What? That’s not fair.”

“Says who? I’m not cleaning up after Bruce anymore than I already am, and she’s your friend, Dick.”

“It’s still unfair,” he grumbles. He brushes it off quickly though. “So….I heard you and Cass ran into each other a few days ago.”

“Yeah. Last Sunday.” You side eye him. “Right after you almost started a grease fire in your new apartment.”

Dick holds his hand to his chest, tone barely upset enough to sound like true hurt. “Don’t look at me like that, I can cook.”

You nod slowly, “I know you can cook,” then shake your head in the same manner. “But you cannot fry.”

“It’s not my fault the oil fights back. I get enough shit in my nightly life. I don't need it when I’m at home on top of that.”

He smiles but the way it doesn’t reach his eyes churns your stomach.

“Maybe pan frying just isn’t for you,” you murmur but your hand goes up to touch his arm. “How’re you feeling?”

Dick shrugs. Gaze locking somewhere over your shoulder.

“As good as I can be,” you give him a sideways look and he forces a chuckle, rocking back from your touch. “Seriously I’m fine. Please don’t stress out about me. Are you okay?”

“Uh huh,” you grunt before pushing him towards the benches on the other side of the cave. “Sure. I’m fine. Now come on, let’s go sit.”

“Mom-”

“Nope. Move before you pass out or some shit.”

“Ah,” he gasps. “You said a bad word.”

“Dick,” you curb the urge to roll your eyes.

- - -

Whatever conversation Jason’s just had with Alfred doesn’t seem to have left him any more tense than he already was, which is good. You and Dick stop mid sentence to watch him walk off from your new position on the floor.

You with a foam roller and your first child dramatically cringing every time you go over the area just above the hole in his calf. Part of it you’re sure is him trying to cheer you up but the other you're certain are actual expressions of pain because he went out on a literal bullet wound even though you’d told him to stay his ass home.

“I don’t know why he’s under the impression that I can’t shoot without killing someone but he’s wrong,” Jason’s saying. He pats the occupied holster at his thigh while making his way towards the vehicle pathway. “Anyway, I’m gonna get outta here. The later I see you Bats the better.”

“Jason!”

“Except for you, Ma! I’ll call you tomorrow!” He yells over his shoulder, running his fingers over the handle of the bike closest to him.

“You’d better,” you yell back. You’d be happy to reinstate another child that would lament the drama in their lives to you on your call list.

“Uh oh,” Dick says under his breath.

You turn to look over at him for barely a second, brows raised and mouth partially open, when the sound of a motorcycle revving answers your unasked question for you.

Looking back at the bikes shows Jason’s already peeling out of the cave with a yell of: “I’ll leave this somewhere you can find!”

You blink after him, not sure if you want to laugh or not.

“That’s not good,” Dick murmurs. When you turn to him he’s grimacing and seeing your expression he nods to the now empty spot. “That was Tim’s bike.”

“Oh.” For the first time since finding out the implications of Jason being Red Hood really hit you. Your lips purse. If he’d really been at that confrontation Tim came out of with a (mild according to him) slit throat during the Hush debacle, and been the one to infiltrate Titans Tower and lay Tim out a few weeks back you had a situation. “Oh lorde.”

“Yeah,” Dick gets up in one swift motion, hands on the roller. “We can’t have regular family problems. Nope.”

Unfortunately he’s right. A sigh falls past your lips. Either way, that was one down. You stand, addressing Dick while he’s putting the foam back.

“Excitement aside, before you head back to New York you want to come help me make dinner?” You incline your head. “Tim can come too.”

He smiles at you. You know he understands you not wanting to get too close to the teen but appreciates you including him in stuff anyway.

“Yeah, Mom, I’d love to. Just let me get my stuff and I’ll call him.”

“Okay.”

Dick leaves and you settle in to wait just as the Batmobile comes rumbling into the Cave. You cut your eyes at the vehicle but otherwise don’t acknowledge as Bruce gets out of it, heading immediately to change.

Alfred comes up to your side a breath later. The two of you nod in greeting.

“Sorry for taking the kids from you.”

“That’s quite alright, Mistress Y/n,” His voice drops to a whisper. “Between the two of us I believe Master Timothy may resort to camping in the woods behind the estate if he’s stuck here a moment longer. I’ll gladly allow you to take them both. You go deal with yours and I’ll deal with mine.”

“Have fun,” you croon lightly. The butler gives you a wry look in response. You shrug. “Oh, and if you wouldn’t mind could you tell Bruce to meet me at the Wayne Plot?”

A nod from the old butler.

“Is there a specific time you would like for me to convey as well?”

“He’ll know,” you say simply.

Alfred gives a curt nod.

“Certainly then. Farewell, my dear.” Alfred arches a brow at Dick as he comes back with a duffle swung over his shoulder. “And do try to express upon Master Richard the necessity of wearing his winter gear this year.”

“Alfred,” the man huffs.

You laugh and flick said man in the side. “I don’t think I’ll have to. He should have learned his damned lesson with that two week cold.”

“And I really did,” he bats your hand away and then speeds off. “I'll be upstairs.”

“Bye!” You laugh after him.

This was something you could work with. Putting time into your relationships with your boys and Tim. Solid plan. You say your farewells to Alfred and then follow after your eldest. Your gripes with Bruce could wait, you had dinner to make and two boys to feed.

Fin.

NOTES: I don’t know how severe the implications of a two week cold are but whatever. Hope you enjoyed!!

Thank you all for embarking on this journey with me, this is the first long form series I’ve actually finished so I’m very excited to cap it off!!

Anyway, long overdue is done but I will also write extras to this series at some other time in the future (if you’d like to be tagged in those then tell me).✌🏾

And yes I did my best not to have to write Tim or Cass yet, I can barely write Dick as is. Also let’s just assume Reader had the decency to actually inform Dick about Jason’s death and as such he wasn’t forced to dig for that information himself behind Bruce’s back.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

Tagged: @aarinisreading, @niphredil-14, @mxtokko, @calsjack, @brunnetteiwik, @trashpenguin

[writing-blog-iguess]

Online Matchup 7

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

Warning: fluff, swearing

Words: 4.2 k

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

Taglist: @xoxoyourdoll @teapartydreams

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

————

October 29

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

Y/N When the fuck did you take that?

Jason Such language And so early in the day

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

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

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

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

Y/N I do not remember that

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

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

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

Y/N I’m very proud

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

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

Jason You don’t strike me as a party person

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

Jason And you're okay with it?

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

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

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

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

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

Jason Your friends sound lovely

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

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

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

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

Y/N Helping your brothers again?

Jason I plead the fifth

Y/N You ain’t slick I see you

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

Y/N Cleaning, yes Homework, no

Jason How come you're always doing homework?

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

Jason Lame

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

Jason No Just curious

Y/N That’s a little sus babe

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

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

Jason Looking forward to hearing what you’ll use

Y/N Mm, we’ll see

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

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

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

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

“You’re in a tux.” 

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

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

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

“Yup. He has everything planned but I-” 

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

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

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

“But you don’t know the full story.” 

“I don’t need it to help you.” 

“I could kiss you.” 

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

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

“Give me ten.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My knight in shining armor.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not a problem.”

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

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

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why? Because they’re dating you?”

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

“Not much of a life though, is it?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m full of surprises, Birdie.”

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

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

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

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

“Man, that’s a shame. I’m starving.”

“I thought you ate earlier?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If he’s the one, why overthink it?

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

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

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

“More than ready.” 

[redsray]

i have recently been brainrotting about a batkids racing au. all of them have either shitty home-lives or have had their home-lives taken away and all turn to the concepts of semi-legal street racing as an outlet. in the process, they meet people perhaps in the same boat-- perhaps a family.

Dick

around 21, has been racing since he was 15

likes riding smaller cars. the tighter fit the better. if it's not sleek and swervy he doesn't want it.

had caring parents who he travelled the world with by car, but they died in a car crash when he was 11. due to lack of living relatives, he was in the foster system for 4 years before Barry (Allen) took him in. he never saw Barry as a father, however, and was never officially adopted. basically Wally's roommate and Bart's older brother figure in a way.

Wally introduced him to the street racing world, and despite being very very reluctant at first (car crash trauma), Wally showed him all the good parts of it and he's loved it ever since

experienced racer, everyone there loves him and he's well known as one of the top racers

Jason

20, been racing since 17

he generally prefers driving motorcycles but make no mistake he will shred you no matter what racing vehicle you give him (he's competitive.) in terms of street/car racing he will go for anything with powerful acceleration.

his dad was a mechanic and Jason would sometimes help him out with car repairs when he was younger, although his dad would sometimes drop a bit too much workload on him and not really care for his well-being

mom was a recovering drug addict, cared for Jay but couldn't be around much due to both rehab and hospital visits

his dad was later arrested for underground drug dealing, dying in prison and his mom died of overdose. at 13, he was in the foster system for more or less a year before he ran, living on the streets for 3 more years, doing odd jobs.

at 16, he met Roy, who later (at 17) introduced him to street racing. Jason always had a knack for cars and with his natural talent he won quite a few of his first races, earning money from the betting pools and has been basically splitting rent and crashing with Roy ever since.

absolute MENACE of a racer. showed up at some point and basically showed most people up. can and will judge your car model. might steal your tires for the funsies.

Tim

18, new to the racing scene (been racing since 17) but knows A LOT about it through his own love for motorsports (he definitely has car posters in his room)

will drive any car. literally. he will just love it if you give him a car. in fact, give him a broken one so that he can make it BETTER than everyone else's.

lovely and wealthy parents, but they aren't around much. they honestly try their best, but when you're an only child in a big house it can get boring and lonely. he loves his parents and his mom was the one who first showed him motorsports when she was working on a business deal with a motorsport company (Tim got his first free car poster that day)

definitely takes pictures of cool cars he sees

as soon as he found out about the street racing ring in Gotham he immediately snuck in (age 15)

he would come practically every night he could and made friends with the younger racers (bart, cassie, kon) (they 100% would go to him for geeky car tech tips)

one time bart was sick for a race and cassie and kon asked tim to step in for him on the team, tim did-- he performed so naturally well that he caught the attention of other racers, decided to stay with the YJ team permanently

commonly referred to as a rising star, a prodigy in the racing scene

Damian

15, literally raised into motorsports. god knows when he drove his first car. he started officially racing in the street ring only recently, but already has a reputation as one of the best

preference for aerodynamic cars. the sleeker the better for him.

commonly underestimated by new racers

bruce is still his bio dad, he literally funds most the betting pools and co-runs the street racing ring under the guise of a totally normal auto repair store

hella competitive, will do everything to outshine you especially if you look down on him

LOVES painting on his car. like everyone customises theirs to a certain point but Damian will sit there for hours just painting on it.

does NOT care for the betting pools, if he wins he will just put all the money right back in. he just wants to win and beat you LMAO

[mamawasatesttube]

number 81 for the writing prompts: "It's cold, you should take my jacket."

(mostly cause I wanna see Tim wear Kon's leather jacket and Neither of them being normal about it but do what you want with it it's your fic <3)

“Here.”

Tim looks up as Kon waltzes back into the living room, two enticingly-steaming mugs in his hands. Hot spiced apple cider sounds absolutely divine right now—the blustery Kansas day outside is reaching its icy fingers into the farmhouse despite the fire blazing merrily in the hearth, and Tim has to admit, he maybe should’ve packed warmer for this trip.

Kon presses one of the mugs into his hands—the nicer one, Tim notes, without the chip in the rim—and Tim accepts it with a grateful hum. The warmth seeps into his palms immediately. “Thanks.”

“No problemo, Rob-lemo.” Kon plops down next to him on the couch, his TTK keeping his cider perfectly still in his mug as he makes himself comfortable. “It’s pretty chilly out today. Gonna be a good night to go skating—the pond down by the McAllister’s place is frozen over, and this time of year, they string up lights ‘n’ invite all the neighbors to come by in the evenings. Wanna go?”

Tim hums in consideration. “Could be fun, but just warning you, it’s been a hot minute since I did any skating, so I’m kinda rusty. And I didn’t bring any skates.” Mmm, the steam rising up from his cider smells amazing. “Did you make this?”

Kon’s eyebrows shoot towards the ceiling. Then he puffs out his cheeks in mock offense, folding his arms across his chest. “You don’t have to sound so surprised! I’m good in the kitchen.”

Yeah, Bart keeps calling him malewife material about it. Tim grins into his mug; it’s not his fault it’s so easy to ruffle Kon’s feathers, or that it’s so funny to do so. “I guess it is Ma’s recipe, so it’d be hard to make it bad.”

Kon politely waits for him to lower the mug from his mouth and then swats him on the back of the head. Tim does appreciate the pause, even as he ducks away, laughing. The cider tastes like apples and cinnamon and honey; warmth spreads through Tim’s chest.

“You’re rude,” Kon tells him. “Just for that, if you fall on your face when we go skating, I’m not helping you up. I’m just gonna laugh.”

“Oh, it’s a when we go skating now?” Tim quirks an eyebrow at him in turn. “I just said I didn’t bring any skates.”

“We can get you some, that’s no trouble,” Kon says, flapping a dismissive hand. Tim opens his mouth to ask where, exactly, in Smallville, can they get a pair of new ice skates in a matter of a couple of hours, but then closes it again when it hits him that even if there isn’t a big sporting goods shop in Smallville, geography isn’t really a concern to someone who can crisscross the entire globe in a matter of minutes.

“Yeah, okay, sure.” Tim lightly elbows him. “Don’t tell me you’re actually good at skating. I bet you just TTK your way through it.”

Kon elbows him back. “Yeah, right! I’m pretty decent, no powers required, actually. Been going plenty with Jon. He particularly loves this one roller dome in Metropolis that always has Super merch in the arcade claw games.”

Okay, Tim has to admit, he’s melting a little about that. Kon loves his little brother. The image of him taking Jon skating is really cute—he can just picture Jon wobbling along, holding Kon’s hand, and rambling about his day like he loves to do. He bites back a truly sappy smile; his toes curl instead, where they’re tucked under a cushion to stay warm.

“Lemme guess. The claw games are where you TTK it up.”

Kon snickers. “They’re rigged as hell, but the kid wants his misshapen Superman plushies, so obviously I gotta win ‘em for him.”

“Obviously,” Tim agrees. He curls his fingers around his mug a little tighter, soaking up its warmth; he’s got an actual winter coat for when they go out, but he really wishes he’d brought some thicker sweaters or hoodies for hanging around in the house itself. He’s used to the damp, creeping cold of Gotham; the blustery Kansas winters might be about the same temperature, but the wind out here blows right through him.

Kon shifts next to him, setting his cider down on a coaster on the coffee table. Tim glances up just in time to see him unzip and shrug out of his hoodie—it’s fleece-lined and light pink with a strawberry cow printed on the front breast pocket, very cute.

And then Kon leans over and wraps it around Tim’s shoulders. Tim’s face heats.

“It’s cold,” Kon explains. “Take my jacket. I don’t really need it that bad, anyway, so you may as well get some use out of it.”

It’s still warm from his body, and Tim lifts one hand from his mug to pull it more tightly around himself like a blanket. His nose brushes the collar when he turns his head a little. The jacket smells like Kon’s cologne.

…It’s the citrus-and-spice one Tim bought him last Christmas. He’s wearing the cologne Tim picked out for him last year, the one Tim definitely didn’t spend almost an hour agonizing over as he imagined tucking his face into Kon’s shoulder and inhaling this specific scent from his collarbone. He’s…

Tim’s face gets even hotter. Abruptly, he takes a gulp of hot cider, hiding in his mug. Kon’s jacket smells like him, and it’s warm, and it’s big and cozy and soft, and…

Kon is staring at him, Tim realizes belatedly. He didn’t notice because he was busy, uh, processing, but Kon’s looking at him like he’s…

Like he’s the last morsel of dessert on the table, and Kon has a ravenous craving for some sugar?

Tim swallows hard. Deliberately counts to eight on his next inhale and exhale. If he lets his heart rate pick up, Kon will definitely notice.

“Thanks,” he manages, finally. “That’s, uh. Yeah. That’s nice.”

“I’ll say,” Kon mutters. He drops his gaze, his cheeks a little pink, and then reaches over to ruffle Tim’s hair. “Bring warmer lounge clothes next time, dumbass. The farmhouse is kinda old. Gets drafty in here.”

“Yeah,” Tim says wryly. He shifts his weight, rearranging his legs so that instead of leaning on the armrest, he flops himself against Kon’s side, dropping his head to his shoulder for a moment. “I noticed.”

Kon leans his cheek against Tim’s hair. “At least you got me to keep you warm,” he sighs, slipping his arm around Tim’s shoulders. “What would you do without me, huh?”

Tim bites back the first response on the tip of his tongue (“Go into a huge depressive spiral?”) and goes for something a little less insane. “Freeze to death before you even get to laugh about me falling on my face at the McAllisters’ pond?”

Kon snorts. He’s comfortably warm against Tim’s side, and Tim snuggles a little closer, relishing his warmth. “Yeah, that sounds about right,” Kon agrees. “I hope I can get it on video.”

Tim just smiles to himself and raises his mug for another sip of cider. The honey and spices are heavenly on his tongue, but if he’s being entirely honest, he can think of something sweeter.

[fcthots]

This isn't like a writting prompt or anything so i hope this is okay but I LOVE Gus and all the writings you do about him and Jason but everytime I picture Gus I picture him being a polydactyl cat you know with lil thumbs on his paws

this is almost completely irrelevant but im tired and wont remember so remind me. imma write a lil drabble where gus wants to go outside but can't bc 1) Gotham 2)No outside cats in cities and 3) he's too big so he gets winded easily

anyway gus is in a stroller and Damian or someone was on a stakeout nd was like "When tf did y'all have a kid? What the fuck?" but he opens the bonnet part and BOOM Gus. He's like "wow actually this is so much better"

anyway im tired. take whatever the fuvck it is that I just said and sorry its got nothing to do w what u asked. I am incoherent rn. so fuckin tired. nighty night babe.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

I love The Other Half so much!!! Tell us: How would it go the first time Bruce asks his Shop Girl to go to a fancy schmancy Gotham elite gala with him??? I'm dying to know!

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

Warnings: Some angst; mostly fluff; Bruce Wayne's Top Notch Communication Skills and secret keeping

You and Bruce drive back to your apartment in relative quiet, only mentioning the odd nice thing about the evening. You don’t ask about the gala; he doesn’t mention it. You just watch the city fly by, and try not to let your irritated feelings completely choke how much you care about Bruce. You figure that he must’ve forgotten about the gala—or that he’s had a good reason for not mentioning something so significant. And the evening had gone so well up until then. You just want to revel in that, and not in the puncture wound Liz had made in your otherwise buoyant evening. You may not know Bruce’s reasons are, but he must have them. 

Frankly, if he doesn’t, you’re not sure what kind of solace you’ll be able to take in his omission. 

You give Bruce a tender kiss before you start to get out of the car, trying to force away your wary thoughts away. 

“You didn’t get your picture,” He comments.

“Hm?” You frown, turning back to Bruce. 

“For Michelle.” 

“Oh,” You huff a laugh. “I’m not worried about that.” 

“Maybe next time.” 

You open your mouth, then close it, biting back a smart remark. You just give him a small smile. 

“Maybe.”

“Are you working tomorrow?” 

“Mhm.” 

“When’s your shift end?” 

“Six.”

“Alright.”  

--

“When’s your shift end?” 

You could’ve sworn you told him last night, and it twigs your irritation. You’re not sure what’s even brought Bruce to the store. He could’ve called, or texted. He didn’t call or text you last night to discuss what had happened at dinner. Maybe he’d needed to cool down as much as you had; maybe he’d gone to bed early; maybe he’d gotten up to something else. You glance at the clock over the counter opposite you before you go back to restocking one of the display cases. 

“In a couple of hours,” You answer. 

“...Would it end now if I bought out the store?” 

“What would you do with the inventory?” 

“I’d figure something out.” 

“Maybe donate some of it to charity?” 

“I’m not sure what someone in need would do with a…” Bruce reaches out, plucking a jewelry box off of the shelf, gaze sweeping its contents, “Diamond and garnet encrusted brooch. How much does this cost, anyway?” 

You glance down at the box, brow furrowing as you wrack your mind for the cost.

“Mmm…Thirteen hundred.” 

“Hm…Want it?” 

“What?” 

“Do you want this?” 

“No, Mr. Wayne,” You scoff, turning back to face the display case again. 

“Oh, I’m Mr. Wayne here?” 

“If you don’t want me to get into trouble with my manager again, yes.” 

Bruce grunts beside you, holding the box out to you. You reach out, taking hold of the box and putting it away again. 

“What do you want?” He asks. “Hm?” 

“If you could pick one thing on this floor, what would it be?” 

You hesitate before glancing down, eyeing the floor beneath your feet. 

“Not much to be found on the floor, but your shoes look quite nice,” You offer, turning back to the display. 

“You know what I mean,” Bruce chuckles, “Though I could get you a pair of these if you like.” 

“I like my own shoes.” 

You expect Bruce to say something else, but you feel him simply watching you. You glance over at him, arching a brow when you find him watching you expectantly. 

“What?” You laugh a little nervously. 

“If you could have one thing on the floor—in this department,” He clarifies pointedly, and you turn away, fighting back a smile at his insistence. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Nothing springs to mind?” Bruce presses, leaning back against the counter beside you. 

“Please don’t lean on the display, Mr. Wayne.” 

“Would I be allowed to lean against it if I buy the place?” 

You roll your eyes openly, fighting back a smile. 

“I suppose you could. You really gonna buy it?” 

“I wasn’t going to, but now I’m thinking about it.” 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“Don’t dare me, sweetheart. We both know where that leads.” Bruce straightens up, tucking his hands into his pockets and looking around. His eyes seem to land, then catch on the far end of the room. 

“What is it?” You ask, nudging his elbow with yours. He shakes his head a little bit, turning to look around at other sections of the department. 

“That was where the,” He waves toward the hall he’d first looked down. “Where the robbery was?” 

“Attempted.” 

“Right.” 

“Yes.” You think for a moment, then go still, brows furrowing as you look at Bruce, your mind racing. He turns back to you, brow twitching as he catches sight of your expression. 

“What?” He frowns. 

“How did you know that it was back that way?” 

“What?” 

“I never told you where in the office it happened.” 

“...No. No,” He shakes his head, “I saw it on the news.” 

Your mouth works wordlessly for a moment, your eyes narrowing as his face remains a mask of calm. 

“Look,” Bruce adds, “I’ve got a meeting to get to, but uh—” He glances around before he leans in, pecking your lips. “I’ll pick you up at six?” 

“Okay…” 

Bruce winks at you before turning and heading for the elevator. You turn back to the display, slowed in your work. It’s strange. You don’t think that you told the news the way back to the office…But maybe you had. It had been such a panicked rush—you’d just wanted to go home. You hadn’t watched it back when it had aired, but Michelle had recorded it. You’re certain it’ll still be on the DVR…

You scoff, shaking your head. You’re being unduly suspicious. Just because Brue didn’t mention the gala to you and knows where the back office is doesn’t mean there’s anything else going on. Honestly—you’re starting to think like one of those stupid magazines Michelle brings home. 

--  

“Can we talk about it?” You hedge, peering into the empty wine glass in your hand.

“Talk about what?” 

You think that Bruce is playing dumb, but when he turns back to you with that confused, contemplative little look, you realize that he really doesn’t know. You wait until he rounds to the couch, sitting beside you and setting down the newly opened bottle of wine. 

“About what Liz said last night,” You clarify, setting your empty glass down. Bruce seems to grimace before he nods. 

“It wasn’t anything I thought you’d be interested in,” He offers, scratching the back of his neck, “And truth be told, I haven’t even thought about it. I never pay attention to those things.” 

You arch your brows as Bruce pouts. He has that sweet pout, the one you first saw at the store when he wasn’t sure what to buy Alfred.

“Which is fine, and I know we hadn’t known what we were getting into, but I felt…Pretty blind-sided, Bruce.”

“I know. Sorry.” He reaches out, taking hold of your hand with both of his. You curl your fingers around his, leaning against him.  

“...Do you want to go?” Bruce hedges softly. You smile a little, resting your head on his shoulder. 

“No, I don’t think so. I really do have work that night.” 

“You could get the night off.” 

“I don’t think I could.” 

“Sure. I buy the place, you can set your own schedule—” 

You burst out laughing as Bruce goes on: 

“Liz gets someone to design your dress—we’d be ready in no time.” 

Your laughter dissolves to giggles as you shake your head. 

“Seriously, it’s fine. I don’t think I’d suit those kinda things.” 

“..I don’t suit those kinds of things,” Bruce points out. “I still go.” 

“You still have to. I’m not the face of the Wayne Foundation.” 

Bruce grunts. He loosens his grip on your hand, raising his arm to wrap around you. 

“I’m barely the face,” He grumbles. 

“Mm, you’ve very much the face. The handsome face,” You tease, raising your hand to pinch his cheek. He smiles, turning his head and brushing his lips against your knuckles. 

“Alright, no gala for you,” He agrees. “How about something else?” 

“Like what?” 

“I’ve got an invitation to a fundraiser. Small guest list, nice venue. Pretty low-key.” 

“Define low-key, please?” 

“Fewer cameras, less old money…Fewer people looking at us.” 

That makes your stomach twist. You find yourself looking down at your hand where it still grasps his. Maybe that was his concern: a lot of people seeing Bruce Wayne with you—with someone outside of their tight social circle.

“...You worried about that?” You ask softly. “A lot of cameras?” 

“It takes getting used to,” Bruce soothes. “I don’t wanna shove you under that microscope before you know what it feels like. I’m used to the cameras, but I don’t want them turning up at your place and hounding you.” 

You sigh softly, tipping your head back against the couch. “Maybe we should just let them keep thinking you’re dating Liz,” You mumble. 

“We can do that.” 

“Oh?” 

“We can do whatever you want.” 

You let your head loll to the side, smiling when you find Bruce watching you closely. 

“A fundraiser sounds nice,” You concede softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “What’s it for?” 

“Uh…Research, or…An animal shelter? I honestly can’t remember.” 

“I take it you can’t remember when it’s happening, either?” 

“The thirtieth.” 

“I can probably swing that.” 

“Yeah? Good,” Bruce draws you closer to his side, nuzzling your temple. “Maybe you’ll make one of these damn events bearable for once.” 

“...Bruce?” 

“Mhm.” 

“You won’t keep insisting that we don’t have to go over and over again, will you?” 

“No I will not.” 

“Promise?” 

“Scout’s honor.” 

--  

You try not to overthink all of Bruce’s little inconsistencies, but you can’t help but notice them. He either feigns or truly forgets the things that you tell him. He cancels plans at the last minute, and either neglects or forgets to text you when he’s home. Sometimes he turns up at your apartment very early or very late. On those nights, he just slouches in and practically face-plants in your bed. You see the odd splash of a bruise across his shoulder, his back, his arm. When you do ask, he waves it off, explains it away—with polo, spelunking, some other rich guy crap. 

You don’t always buy it, but you let it go. If you let yourself give into your little lurking suspicions, you’ll never be able to get past them—but there are some days when you look at Bruce and see nothing but a mound of questions. 

--  

The day of the fundraiser isn’t as harrowing as you think it may be. You take the entire day off to get ready for it. You get your hair and nails done, spend the day brushing up on the news, the latest social gossip (it’s the only time you’re happy to have Michelle’s magazines around). You’ve had your dress for a week—it’s one that you picked out at the store, and got a decent price for it with your employee discount. It’s designer, and you like it, but you do worry that it’s not fancy enough for the circles that Bruce travels in. 

If it isn’t fancy enough, Bruce doesn’t say a damn thing. He just gives you a long, slow once-over, a smile growing on his lips as he draws you into his chest. 

“You look beautiful,” He murmurs, head dipping toward you, then stilling just an inch from yours. “Am I gonna mess up your lipstick?” 

You grin, giving Bruce a gentle, obliging peck before back again, smoothing your hands over his coat.

“Save it for after the party.” 

“Screw the party, let’s just go to mine.” 

“Nu-uh. I spent way too much time and money on this get-up. C’mon,” You insist, hooking your arm through his and steering him toward the elevator. “You driving?” 

“Alfred is.” 

“Better keep your hands to yourself then, Mr. Wayne.” 

“We wouldn’t scandalize Alfred.” 

“We won’t be scandalizing Alfred.” 

--  

The first few minutes are a little rocky—you have a few hiccups together. Bruce doesn’t know how to introduce you, and you don’t know how to tell anyone what it is you do, or how you met. Bruce finally settles on your being a close friend; you begin to tell people that you’re Bruce’s personal shopper. Everyone titters with the insistence; it makes Bruce’s lips twitch with a smile every single time. It’s a little white lie—one that you’re happy to invoke for the evening. Besides, you’re certain you’ll never see these people again. The two of you get split up briefly—Bruce gets pulled into an impromptu business proposal, and Liz takes you by the arm, drawing you into a conversation with a few of her modeling friends. 

It’s probably not polite to say so, but the conversation is stupefyingly boring. They’re all quite nice, but Bruce catches up to you in the knick of time. 

“Excuse us, ladies,” Is the easy way that he cuts in. He takes hold of your hand, intertwining your fingers and guiding you away from the group with a murmur of, “C’mon.” 

You smile, turning and giving the group a small wave before you rest your hand on Bruce’s upper arm. “Nice timing.” 

“Was it?” He asks. 

“Practically perfect.” 

“Total coincidence.” 

You slow a little as you see Bruce guiding you toward the small dance floor. 

“Uh…Not sure I’m wearing my dancing shoes, Bruce.” 

“Just a little spin,” He plies. “They’re playing a slow one.” 

You hesitate before you give an abiding nod. Bruce curls his arm around your waist, slotting the two of you in among the other well-dressed couples. You rest your hand on his shoulder, gaze wandering the room. It’s another few moments before he draws you closer.

“Am I boring you?” He murmurs. You bite your lip, trying not to giggle. 

“Not at all, Mr. Wayne.” 

“I don’t know if I like this Mr. Wayne business.” 

“I’ll put a cap on it.” 

“Thank you.” 

You shift your hand on his shoulder, tipping your head to the side as Bruce’s gaze wanders your face. 

“Are you having fun?” Bruce asks. 

“Honestly? I did not think I would, but yeah,” You nod, “I really am.” 

“You didn’t think you would?” 

“No. I mean,” You chuckle at Bruce’s gobsmacked expression. “I knew I’d have a nice time with you, but I didn’t think I’d have a nice time, like…In general.” 

“Yeah? Having a nice enough time to attend another one of these with me in the future?”

“Maybe.” 

“Is there anything that’ll sway you toward a favorable answer?” 

“You give me plenty of heads up and ask me reaaaally really nicely.” 

Bruce smiles, nodding, his gaze lingering on your lips. 

“I can live with that,” He murmurs. “Tell you something.”

“Mm?” 

“I wanna take you home—” 

“I figured you would—” 

“—Right now.” 

You grin, glancing around. “Well is there, uh…Is there something stopping you?”

“Figured we’d finish this dance first.” 

“I think I can stand that…Bruce?” 

“Mm?” 

“We are still not scandalizing Alfred.” 

Next Part

[bruciemilf]

Diana grows up learning the spirit of Themyscira lives in every Amazon. In whatever shape, in whatever form they come.

She's there for every clay forging. She blesses the adorable lump of clay, slowly starting to take shape of something close to a person.

She thinks of Mother's tapestries, the pictures in her books. Of Ares and Zeus, fathers of all fathers. And she thinks who needs Gods when you have sisters?

Sisters accept you and protect you. Sisters are your blood that walks and breaths and laughs. And Diana knows there's tribes that don't accept certain Amazons.

Just because you're born among them doesn't mean you belong.

But for her, it's different. "If they're on the island, they're one of ours. Amazons don't forget their own."

There's a man on the beach shore, with eyes full of sand.

Diana's more curiosity than woman. When her sisters poke at the strange figure with their feet, trying to wake him, or check for life, she simply turns him him to check.

He's young; Hair as darks as nightsky. His face is pale, almost pearly. It reminds her of moonlight, softly spilling down the ocean when it's completely dark.

Her hands wipe away salty water from long, elegant lashes, and looks for a heartbeat down his chest. There's a strange symbol on it. Diana's hands feel like ice.

The Bat makes a noise, a whine, too fragile for a man. But maybe he's more. " We must take him in."

" This is not a place for men."

" No. But it can be a place for brothers."

He's almost frail, wrapped in furs and skins and blankets. His whole body is tense, even in this state of vulnerability. As if he's burdened even in sleep.

But there's names whispered to Diana at night, when she changes sweat soaked shirts, when she tinkers with the belt laid next to him. " Jay. Timmy. Dick. Cass. Duke. Dami."

Perhaps they're his Gods. Or maybe something more important.

When the Bat wakes, he doesn't remember much of anything. He looks at Diana with such wounded eyes, like a beloved deer waiting to feed the tribe and be celebrated for her sacrifice.

The sisters avoid him. Mother knows telling Diana to stay in line would be useless. Besides, she might not be aware of it, but her gaze does soften when he shyly asks for something to read.

He doesn't speak much. Diana does, thought. " Jason, Cass, Dick," she tests the name. So very strange sounding, but comfortable in her tongue. " Are they your lovers?"

The Bat's eyes widened slightly. The mango she brought him fill up his cheeks, making his face round, and her chest warm. " ...No. I don't know what they are but, -- but they're in my heart. They're my loves."

A random flicker of hope passes through her chest.

"Maybe we could go look for them someday. Bring them here."

"Yes," he let's her hand fall in his. They're almost like hers, if not a big broader. Scarred and beaten and cracking. The labor of love. " Maybe we will."

♡♡♡

Jason's body is restless. It's been restless for a year, like a beast getting hunted. Hoping while dying. He's no stranger to that.

" Dick."

His brother's pure sunshine, usually. Or pretends to be. He's got no strength to act anymore. No more power. Gotham is missing its heart.

"I found him."

" Jay, you're upset. I know you are, but,--"

" Dick," He breaths, hard, lungs pumping adrenaline, " When Bruce dies, I'll feel it. I'll bleed all over Gotham again. He's alive. I know he is. And we're going after him."

Dick's voice collapses, in a rare, painful moment of truth. He's not Nightwing, or Batman, or Robin. He's Jason's big brother. He's a legacy of ruin. " You're not the only one who loved him."

"Maybe. But I'm the only one who'll find him. Even if I have to burn my path."

[bookwormlover10]

I need a fan fic ( or au) were Wayne family adventures Bruce decides to adopt old Dcau Bruce

You with me on this...ok so This is my pitch how it would go.

So it starts with wfa Bruce somehow ( maybe is the justice league or something else you decide) gets transported to the Dcau universe but in the beyond era. The man is obviously very confused it could be the taller and bigger Gotham or it could be the teenager with attitude calling himself batman.

Eneway he runs into the tomorrow knight and after some light confrontation Terry takes him to the bat cave were he meets the eder Bruce Wayne. After confirming things old Bruce dismissed Terry for the night

While things settle down wfa Bruce noticed that this old Bruce is lonely. This Bruce is all alone For the most part.( With expectations of course. The dog and this Terry fellow) The House looks hunted with romes are empty and dark. Alfred seems to be dead. It seems that he didn't have much sidekicks( sorry that the only way to explain the bat heros ) judging by the display case. He's pretty sure the doesn't have a Damian either. The kicker thought is when he shows a picture of his family to the older Bruce gave him a sad smile and said " that lovely but do me a favor don't mess up like I did."

Some how there is a way home with it with the beyond era justice league or the wfa Batfamily you decide. While going though the way home wfa Bruce decided 'you know what I'm taking this sad Old man with me' and surprises adoption to old Bruce. he just assumed that Terry well be fine. Yes Ace will run after his owner.

As expected old man Bruce doesn't take to kindly to the batnaping. His is pissed. His like " I'm supposed to be a warning! That wasn't a aboption call !" And like " Terry needs me! " He scolded wfa Bruce like an angry father.

I bet your wondering what the wfa Batfamily thing about this. Well one their Bruce explain his reasoning there like... Ok.... Then go along with it. They get a new grand-bat

The bat kid are ok with having a new grand-bat. But as time Bass they noticed that their new grand-bat is why more grouchy than their Bruce and some how More traumatized. I mean the old man said that dangling somebody off a roof was too soft. He looked at Alfred like hes a ghost ( maybe to him he is ) Every time Old man Bruce sees Dick and tim he always gives them a sad look with regrets and avoid them at all cost. Tim more so. Like Tim is his greatest failure.

Tim : why is he looking at me like that.

Jason: yea so

Tim: that the thing he's looking at me like...( Comes to the realization) .. like Bruce looks at you

Jason: huh !

Dick: ( is crying in a corner) at least he doesn't look at you like you hate him!

Old Bruce does try to escape and go home. Like there a Terry that needs him at home. Hes escape atemts fall though it comes to a pont stop thing " what would a Bruce do" to " what would a Terry do." And starts to make their life miserable. He starts to hack into the bat computer making their equipment act weird and pulls brakes on them. Thought he doesn't do it when he thinks that their a ligiment threat. They might have kidnapped him but he still has his morals after all these years.

Damien likes Old Bruce hes like the grandfather that Damien always wanted. He's tuff and experienced but not to mean ( still mean but not as much as he was when he first met Terry. thanks you Terry for softening the old bat up) . He gives him compliments when needed but well scold you when you do something stupid. He gives him head pats sometimes. He even has that mysterious old people candy that Jon was telling him. About. Not to mention he's has great taste in pets. ( Damien likes Ace very much.) Damien came to know this this Bruce never had a him. That fact made Damien a little sad. He always thought that there was a him with his father in every universe. He also thinks that his mother isn't with them in his universe cause every time he asks about his mother in his universe he always gives a sad smile and says " your mother was a very beautiful woman. With a good heart." The key word was was. Meaning that she was dead. He doesn't dare ask about his grandfather. The old bat does try to convince Damian to stop being Robin cause how kind get hurt. ( Cause you know trama ) Damien them mention this Terry fellow.Damian then decided that they need to keep the old man.

Old Bruce then release that these kids are traumatized and he became a little soft on the wfa Batfamily. He's everything started to open up to them. He starts telling them stories about his batman and justice league days. The bat kids are all surprise that welly West was a founding member of the justice league in his universe. He also gave wfa Bruce creeks and help him be a better batman. ( With all of the Batfamily to he honest) Tim and Jason eventually asked him to what happened to his Tim Drake. So old Bruce explained his Tim backstory and the joker jr situation. The bat boys than made the concussion that his Tim Drake is was more of a Jason Todd a Timmy todd if you will. When Tim and Jason explain both of their backstory to the old bat.

Wfa Bruce ( and Batfamily to an extent) does eventually feel gently about surprises adopting old man Bruce especially with how much he mentions Terry. Wfa Batfamily can tell that they have a father and son relationship. He said how he proud of him. He mentioned his grate battles or what Terry did for him . That wfa Batfamily can tell how much Terry means to the old bat. They know that he wasn't comply alone

Then eventually there's a knocking on the door of Wayne maner only to reveal a pisst of Dcau Tim going full Jason Todd on there ass. ( He has a gun and he's not afraid to use it ) an angry Terry mcginnis and Dcau Wally West is there cause I like him. You can also have Dcau dick Grayson there to.

See he has people who do care about him.

Then old man Bruce got to go home but the wfa Batfamily can still visit there grand bat in neo-Gotham

I also have a similar Idea but we're Damien kidnapped Timmy todd and Dcau dick is on the journey. Let me know if you want to here that to.

[lonleywriters-blog]

I desperately need to ask about Gotham villains with a lolita partner.

(technically gn but it's okay if you want to use dresses as the partner's outfit, boys and everyone else can still wear dresses! :D)

Ahh yes ofc

Gotham villains with lolita s/o

He thinks it suits him

He loves the details and will want to know about all of it

He spoils you with so many dresses and accessories

He will want fashion shows every time you go shopping

Has a collection of photos of you in different outfits

Helps you get ready and loves helping you pick what to wear

He thinks it's super pretty

He will dress you up

Calls you doll all the time

Teases you all the time

Loves showing you off to people

He will give you anything you want

Helps you get ready in the morning

Calls himself your prince

He loves it

He thinks it's super pretty and that it is tedious

He admires the amount of detail the fashion has

Thinks you look stunning when you dress up

Helps you take off all your accessories and makeup at night

He is obsessed with buying you trinkets that remind him of lolita fashion

He thinks it beautiful

He is obsessed with the fashion

He will help you sew and make clothes

Buys you gifts all the time

Takes so many pictures for you

Loves dressing up and matching with you

Calls you doll

It fits him so well

He will pick out your outfits everyday

Watches you do your makeup

Helps you shop and pick things out

He thinks the aesthetic is super cute

Worships you and spoils you

He gets you dresses, jewelery, and trinkets galore

So compatible and fits in his world perfectly

Obsessed the first time he sees you

Loves the fashion

He likes to have tea party's with you

You remind him of Alice

He won't let you go

Watches you all the time

[makethatelevenrings]

Habits and Roadblocks // B. Wayne x gn!reader

Requested? Yes!

WARNINGS: none that I can think of!

Summary: You were Bruce Wayne’s secretary, both for his day and night job. That’s all, right? Just his secretary. Jk unless...

A/N: I am on the tail end of COVID and I took nyquil right before I finished this and posted. I apologize if anything is whack. It’s been a #summer. Stream Jason Todd’s tits on Webtoons. Not necessarily Bale!Bruce. Picture it as whichever Bruce you want. The nyquil is hitting. Good night, I love you!

You were a creature of habit. Every morning, you got into work at ten minutes till nine with a tray of coffees in hand and two breakfast sandwiches. After greeting Ernie the security guard, you swiped your badge to access the elevators and found yourself in a slowly emptying elevator until it stopped at the top floor.

“Good morning,” you greeted Liza. The floor assistant gave you a half-hearted wave but didn’t glance up from the calendar she was staring at. You paused in front of her desk and placed one of the coffees from your tray directly in her eye line.

“You’re a godsend and a lifesaver,” she mumbled, making grabby hands at the drink. You passed it to her and blew her a kiss before continuing on to the desk on the far end of the room. Mikey, Mr. Fox’s secretary, snagged the drink that you held out for him with a quick thanks and a gesture to the bluetooth earpiece that was blasting a cacophony of voices in his ear. You were glad your boss was typically late, rather than early, so you never had to worry about coordinating meetings until after nine.

But your boss was here on time today. In fact, he was early. You faltered for just a moment at the sight of Bruce Wayne seated at his desk, but pressed on.

“Good morning, sir,” you greeted. “Long night?”

The question was asked with the hint of teasing. You knew exactly what he had gotten up to last night. In fact, the majority of Gotham woke up to his exploits. They just didn’t know that their darling playboy socialite was dressed in a bat costume. Three years of working as his secretary, however, and you knew exactly what he got up to during the nights.

“Oh, you know, the usual,” he commented lightly. You set his coffee and one of the breakfast sandwiches down on his desk, a small smile playing on your lips.

“A few rounds of chess with Alfred before a nice chamomile tea and in bed by nine, right?”

He took a long sip of his coffee and then sat back in his chair. “Exactly. What’s on the docket for today?”

You sat down on the chair on the other side of the desk and pulled up his calendar on your laptop. He watched you carefully as you dove into the detailed explanation of his meetings for the day. In the two years of being Batman, no one had wormed their way into his heart and stubbornly rooted there like you had. Alfred mocked him endlessly for his inability to express his emotions, but this was becoming embarrassing even for him.

He was Bruce Wayne. The tabloids were full of his exploits and people practically threw themselves at his feet. Did he take any of them home? No, of course not. He had an image of a playboy to maintain, but he had a cowl and cape to don every night.

Watching you wave and gesture your hands in the air as you spoke, he realized with startling clarity another fact that hadn’t come to mind before.

The only person he truly wanted to share his life with was you.

Damn it.

When you came in the next day, you weren’t surprised to find him not in his office. Batman and Scarecrow had gotten into it the night before and you were sure he would be sleeping in until at least ten. What you weren’t expecting was the bouquet of flowers sitting on your desk.

“Hey Liza?” you called. She poked her head up from the coloring sheet she was engrossed in and frowned.

“No one brought those by me,” she said. The two of you were immediately on alert. Someone could target Bruce Wayne directly but that would be a stupid move. Getting to him through his secretary, however, was something that had been tried before. You were adept at identifying threats at this point and unlabeled flowers that hadn’t been cleared by the front desk was a major red flag.

Security was in and out with the flowers in under two minutes, leaving you with your usual stacks of work on your desk and a small ring of dust around where the vase sat moments before. You were engrossed in corresponding with various journalists -- no, Miss Vale, you cannot do an expose piece on Mr. Wayne’s abs -- when your boss finally came in for the morning. He paused at your desk and you raised your head to look up at him, your pen cap trapped between your teeth.

“Good morning, sir.”

“How many times have I told you to call me Bruce?”

“At least eight, sir. Can I help you with something?”

His gaze raked over your desk before he offered you a tight smile. “No. I must be more mixed up after last night than I realized. Thanks for holding down things here.”

“Of course, sir.”

He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose before pushing away from your desk with a heavy sigh. “One of these days, you and Alfred are going to unionize and I’m going to retire and flee Gotham.”

A wicked grin crossed your lips and you innocently batted your lashes up at him. “I’m not sure what you mean, sir.”

Bruce waved a dismissive hand at you as he headed towards his office. You watched him walk away, you smile slipping into something more wistful and fond. Of all the men in the world, you would be hopeless enough to fall for the one you couldn’t have.

A week later, Bruce was in his office when you walked in and a small box was on your desk. You glanced in his direction, but he was pointedly looking away from you. Easing the satin ribbon off of the top, you opened the box to find a tennis bracelet inside.

A diamond tennis bracelet.

“What the hell is this?” you asked as you walked into his office. He didn’t look up from the papers he was signing and instead offered a breezy reply, as if he was commenting on the weather.

“I believe it’s what the kids call a gift these days.”

“Asshole. Why did you give me a diamond bracelet? Bruce, this thing costs more than my yearly rent.”

“We should really find you a better apartment,” he added. “Do you need a raise?”

You scoffed. “I like my apartment very much, dipshit. What the fuck are you on?”

He put his pen down at that and sat back in his chair, eyebrows raised at your sudden change in vocabulary. You thrust the box at him and shook your head before dropping it on the desk.

“I am not your charity case, Wayne. I know I’m not one of the trust fund babies hanging off of your arms at galas, but I like this job and you pay well so please don’t start buttering me up with gifts because you think I need to have Gucci or something.” Pointing an accusing finger at him, you wagged it a few times and then planted your hands on your hips.

“The money you spent on this could feed three families in my complex for a week. If you want to give me a bonus, do that instead.”

Bruce cleared his throat and took the box from where you tossed it. He held the bracelet up and you almost snorted at how comically small it looked in his large palm.

“It’s a, uh, it’s a panic button,” he admitted. “I figured…if you needed me, you just hold down on the charm for ten seconds and it would send an alert with your location. So I could find you.”

There was something sincere in his gaze, something gentle. You let your hands fall from your waist and instead crossed them in front of you. Bruce folded the lid over the box and set it in a drawer.

“I can see I overstepped, though. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry for reacting like that. I just…sometimes I remember that you’re Bruce Wayne and I’m just me.”

“You’re more than what you think. I mean.” He let out a short cough. “I wouldn’t have made it this far without you. Seriously.”

“That’s a lie and you know it.”

He barked out a bitter laugh and shook his head. “You came up, on the spot, with a lie to the media about me getting drunk and knocking an ice sculpture onto Lex Luthor when I was poisoned and got me out of the ballroom before anyone could stop you. I’m pretty sure Alfred has a shrine dedicated to you in one of the kitchen cabinets. I wouldn’t know, I’m not allowed in there.”

“Ah, yes, the Great Grilled Cheese Catastrophe. Alfred told me.”

“You two need to stop meeting for tea. Y/N, you are vital to this operation. This wasn’t a bribe or a way for me to remind you that I’m the richest man in Gotham.”

If Alfred was the man in the chair, you were Batman’s PR agent. You handled Bruce’s schedules and came up with lies for the media for his numerous injuries and disappearances. You were part of Batman’s team. Of course he would want to give you a way to contact his alter ego, right?

“I’m much more inclined to wear necklaces. Something simple. Maybe something with Wonder Woman? I’m a big fan.”

He scowled but you could see him fighting the smile that threatened to ruin his tough guy composure. Bruce never used his media smile with you. It was always the soft, gentle one he used with Alfred.

“Get back to work,” he called as you gleefully skipped towards the door.

The next day, Bruce called you into his office and handed you another small box. You slipped the ribbon off and lifted the lid to find a delicate chain with a simple star hanging from the center. You brushed your fingers along the piece and then lifted it out of the box.

“Will you help me put it on?” you asked quietly. He stood and took the piece out of your hands, his calloused fingers brushing against yours with an angel’s whisper tenderness, and you turned to expose the back of your neck to him. Bruce laid the necklace across your neck and then let the clasp fall shut. You turned back to face him and touched the pendant.

“So if I hold this down for ten seconds, you’ll come for me?”

“Always,” came his instantaneous reply.

“Thank you…Bruce.”

You wore the necklace everyday, even to the Wayne Enterprises Annual Gala where all the top performing employees and their schmoozing bosses gathered to brag about themselves. You were just glad it was at the manor this year instead of some glitzy ballroom downtown. Alfred was supplying you with food throughout the night as the two of you stood off to the side and watched as Bruce flitted from group to group, laughing and chatting. In an hour, you would interrupt whatever conversation he was having to inform him that Greta from the French Ballet was calling. You would slip away into the cave to prepare for the night while he made his excuses and Alfred handled the crowd for the night.

Easy, right?

So what was this sick feeling in your stomach at the sight of him dressed to the nines and flirting up a storm? It wasn’t like this was anything new so why on earth did you feel dread pool in your chest?

“He is an exceptional performer, don’t you think?” Alfred commented from beside you.

“Yes.” You swallowed against the lump in your throat. “It’s just an act.”

A gentle hand patted your arm and you tore your gaze away from Bruce to the kind butler next to you. Alfred smiled wistfully and sighed.

“Master Bruce is quite stubborn, but he’s not a fool, no matter how much he appears to be. It appears that you are the same which bodes well for me.”

“I- we’re just- he’s my boss. That’s all.”

“I have known Master Bruce since he was a little boy. I can assure you that he looks at you with the same intensity as he gazed upon the stars as a child.”

With that, the last tethers of your self control snapped and you found yourself drifting off to sea, lost and aimless. There was no way. You couldn’t possibly love Bruce Wayne. Bruce and all of his charm and money and thirst for justice. Bruce in his suits, both day and night. Bruce and that damn smirk when he’s bested you in some game of wits you unknowingly found yourself playing. Bruce with his complicated coffee order because while he could easily drink black coffee, you had slowly opened his mind to cinnamon and creamer and two sugars. Bruce Wayne who would come at the press of a button to save you because he was good and he was kind and he was unfailing in his devotion to this city and there was no way that he could ever love such a creature as you.

“I need some air,” you stammered out before escaping through the hallway that led to the main portion of the manor that only you, Alfred, and Bruce had access to. You hurried up the steps and practically sprinted towards the drawing room that had a balcony attached to it. Stumbling outside, you leaned against the railings and dragged in a ragged breath. How could you be so stupid?

“Y/N?” His voice was tinged with worry and you pressed the back of your hand to your lips to silence the pathetic sob that built in your chest. Bruce appeared in the doorway of the drawing room and he quickly crossed the room to join you in a few short strides. His hands came up to cup your elbows as you shook your head.

“You need to go back to the party,” you bit out.

“Not until you tell me why you’re crying,” he ordered. You shuddered at that hard, sharp tone that carried in his voice and he immediately softened his body in a way that you never knew he could do. Gentle hands brushed along your skin and that’s when you realized your cheeks were wet.

“It’s not important, Bruce. Just go back inside. I’ll meet you in an hour.”

“Really, what difference will it make if I disappear now or in an hour? Tell me what’s going on. Tell me how I can fix it.”

“You can’t fix it, Bruce. You can’t punch your way out of this. I’m crying because I have to quit this job and I don’t want to. I don’t want to give this up but I have to.” You pulled away from him and crossed to the other side of the balcony, your arms coming up to hug around your stomach. He stared at you, but made no move to follow.

“What did I do? How did I hurt you?” His quiet voice shocked you more than your anger and you ran a hand over your face to compose yourself.

“I can’t stay, Bruce. I can’t be professional and keep my feelings out of this. I can’t sit back and pretend that I don’t love you because it’s not fair to you or me and I can’t keep watching you play these roles when I know the real you an-”

And then he was there, pressing against you and capturing your lips in a kiss that seared into every facet of your being. He cupped your face between his palms and breathed his devotion over you like a prayer. Kissing him stoked the fire that rested in your soul and ignited every nerve in your body. You stumbled back against the railing of the balcony, but you weren’t worried. You knew he would catch you.

“Some detective I am,” he murmured when he finally broke away, his lips brushing against your temple as he drew himself to full height. You rested one hand on his firm chest and felt the steady beating of his heart under your fingertips.

“How long?” you murmured.

“Since the moment I fell into your apartment and you stitched me up in the bathroom.”

You chuckled and kissed the underside of his jaw. “That’s a long time, Mr. Wayne.”

“Too long.” He squeezed a hand on your hip and pulled you closer. “Does this mean you’re still quitting?”

“I might be reasoned with to stay. Given some necessary discussions and agreements, however.”

“I can be amenable to that.”

You were a creature of habit. Every day, you walked into Wayne Enterprises at exactly noon with a reusable lunchbox slung over your shoulder and, occasionally, a small hand gripped in yours. After greeting Ernie the security guard, you swiped your badge to access the elevators and found yourself chuckling as your son greeted every single person that entered and said farewell to everyone who left until you reached the top floor.

“Good noon, Liza!” The greeting made the secretary beam and she leaned over the desk to see the tiny figure next to you.

“Good noon, Dick. Lunch with Bruce?”

“Yes, ma’am!” He puffed up his chest and you grinned, ruffling his hair. When Dick first entered your lives three years prior, he brought a new challenge to your life that you didn’t regret. Becoming a parent was hard. Becoming a parent to a ball of rage and anger and grief who could backflip like an Olympian at the age of eight? Terrifying. But now he was eleven and calmed down some.

Putting his energy into beating the shit out of the criminal underworld seemed to be a good outlet for that rage, but you were still consulting the parenting books.

“Go on in.” Liza waved you through and you thanked her with a grin. Dick dashed ahead of you and entered Bruce’s office with a cartwheel. Your husband chuckled at the young boy and you raised a hand to brush against the star pendant that hung around your neck, now joined by two others to represent the other members of your family, Alfred and Dick.

You were a creature of habit, but sometimes, roadblocks in the form of vigilantes get in the way. You could learn to live with that.

Tags: @someoneimsure @perpetual-fangirl900​

[ynbabe]

Batfam x male reader

Jason: How did you know there would be an extra uniform in the bag?

Tim: Everyone knows flight attendants are required to carry extra uniforms, in case they get called to work unexpectedly.

Dick: Or if something happens to the one they're already wearing.

Tim: Everyone does not know that. How did you both know that?

Roy (yes he’s a bat now, no idgaf abt queen): Worked airport security.

Jason and Y/n: *Simultaneously* Slept with a flight attendant.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Jason: *sighs* I have no friends...

Y/n:

Y/n: *coughs* Bitch, what am I? A roach?!

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Tim: I can’t go, Dick’s mad at me 

Y/n: Why?

Tim: Well there was too many people watching on the Netflix account so I texted him and told him to check the news ‘cause Batman was dead and when he saw I was lying he couldn’t get back onto the Netflix because I had taken his spot

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Jason: [on the phone] Hey do you remember when I said that me and Y/n were gonna have a calm night out?

Steph: Yes?

Jason: How much bail money do you have?

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Jason: [takes off his shirt and jumps into a fighting stance] Fight me you bitch

Y/n: [picks up Harley’s shirt and puts it on] What’s your next move?

Jason: Wait what-? Gimme my shirt back

Y/n: No you’ve made your decision 

Jason: L/n I’m cold

Y/n: Should’ve worn a shirt then

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Dick: Damian loves the outdoors

Dick: That time we went camping he was like Mowgli running around those woods

Dick: I swear Y/n, he was that happy that I honestly thought about just leaving him there

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: Are you all caught up on homework?

Tim: I have a project due on Tuesday and I’m not saying I haven’t started but if you ask to see what I’ve done so far there wouldn’t be anything 

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: Pete, why did you put syrup on the shopping list?

Steph: Cause I like syrup

Y/n: Yes but now it’s all sticky

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n, serious: Don't go falling in love with me

Jason, also serious: Yeah, that's not a problem

*A few days later*

Jason: *yelling as he runs to Dick's room* DICK, I HAVE A PROBLEM

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Dick: Do NOT drink the night before the awards ceremony 

Jason: Yeah yeah, be on time, don’t mess things up

Dick: NO. Alfred’s booked a bagpipe choir. You do NOT want to be hungover for a bagpipe choir

Y/n: Oh fuck

Dick: We’ll go out AFTER the ceremony

Dick: When the bagpipe choir has left the premises 

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: Tim got so drunk last night he puked all over my living room

Tim: It was the laughing! You made me laugh and I threw up!

Jason: Yeah it wasn’t the nine vodka sodas, it was the laughing

Y/n: “Oh my god! I drank so much laughter before this!”

Tim: 

Jason: You owe us a new rug

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: [climbing down the side of the building]

Tim: Y/n!

Tim: Y/n come back! You’re gonna miss your cocoa!

Y/n: [in the distance] I know!

Tim: Well can I have it then?

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Jason, after getting Tim duty: Horror movies don’t scare Tim

Dick: But Chuckie is so creepy though

Tim, spending wayyy to much time on Y/n with this: If I had to fight Chuckie I’d stand in an open field and kick him like a soccer ball every time he came towards me

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: We need to find Dami, do you have a picture of him?

Tim: No but I can draw him from memory 

Tim: How tall is he? Like 2 feet?

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: Have fun at your party

Tim: Thanks

Y/n: You know what they say: “Liquor before beer, never fear. Don’t do heroin”

 Tim: It’s a parent-controlled sociale for rich kids in Gotham I’ll be back before 9

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: Fuck sake Bruce you said I had to babysit one kid

[Dick, Jason, Steph, Cass, Tim, Duke and Damian waving]

Bruce: They don’t exactly come separately... and you only need to look after Damian

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: [waking up from a near death injury] You were scared

Jason: Nah, I was waiting to inherit your millions

Y/n: Let me know where you find them, huh?

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Bruce: Can’t you leave Damian alone?

Tim: I got all the Justice league, young justice, teen titans, titans, everyone at WE and a bunch of interns to sign this notebook I had and then I wrote “Sign here if you think Damian is stupid” on the cover

Tim: He almost cried 

Tim: It was great

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Dick: Kid, could I have a moment in private with Y/n?

Tim: Sure, I’ll just plug my ears and sing an old sea shanty

Dick: Wait-

Tim: There once was a ship that went to sea-

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Tim, crushing on Y/n: Can I just say that I’d love to listen to you talk about Hell all afternoon Y/n

Jason, dating y/n and having met in hell: And can I just say that if I had my guns right now I’d shoot myself

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: Uhhh

Damian: *scoffs*

Y/n: You want a beer?

Dick: He's ten!

Y/n: I don't know, what am I supposed to do with him!?

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Damian: I wanna ride a horse

Y/n: Alright sweetie here’s the horse

Damian: That’s a horse? 

Damian: [picks up book] I thought this was a horse?

Y/n: Damian that’s a cow

Damian: I wanna ride that

Steph: Me moo

Y/n: You’re not helping 

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Tim, clearly drunk: I don’t even know how to drink! I’ve never had one! Like what do you even mix vodka with?

Y/n: A straw

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n, at a PTM meeting: Wait- that guy is the bullying you?

Cass, under strict orders from Bruce not to fight: Hmm 

Y/n, knowing Bruce can’t say shit to him: [powering up] Not my first human, doubt it will be my last 

[to-the-stars8]

Learning to Love Slowly

Parings; Jason Todd x Female Reader (1) Pride and Prejudice and Hair (2) Seven-Eleven Karens and Pinky Promises at 3 AM (3) Google and Hand Holding (4)Cookies and The Butler and The Girlfriend (5)Push-Ups and Hoodies (6) Slushies and Happiness and Pizza (7)Book Recommendations and Jane Austen (8) Gotham Mornings and Daydreaming

9- Text Messages and Older Brothers

Hey, Honeybee, won’t be home tonight, but stop by my apartment because I left you a surprise in the kitchen! 

Jason was sitting with Nightwing on the top of Wayne Enterprises when he got the text. A solid ‘ding’ in brooding silence was enough to make the black and blue vigilante glance over. Knowing his brother’s intrusiveness, Jason moved to the other side of the rooftop to read what you had sent him. 

He was lucky he had been wearing his helmet because the smile that crossed his face couldn’t be helped. Then, when you sent him a picture of you in a cute outfit that you were wearing for family night, he promptly saved it. 

“Who ya texting, Jaybird?” Jason didn’t even hear his brother creep up on him and answered by elbowing him in the stomach. Or attempting to. Dick ducked under his arm before reaching for his phone. 

The moment Nightwing was hopping away with the phone in his hand, the Red Hood was almost foaming at the mouth to get it back. No, those texts were for him. Not for Dick to see and poke fun at. 

“Give me my fucking phone, Dick,” Jason demanded, voice loud. “That’s none of your fucking business.”

“You have a girlfriend, Honeybee?” The question echoed on the rooftop. 

Frantic, Jason reached Dick as he was walking along the edge and pulled him down, slamming him on the ground. He didn’t know why he was so angry, and it wasn’t like he didn’t want his brother to know about you. Maybe it was because he wanted to tell Dick in his own time instead of having the news ripped out of him forcefully. If he could, Jason would have told his older brother about you sooner. He trusted Dick, second only to Alfred. 

Holding his hands up, Nightwing surrendered. “Hey, it’s great if you do, Jay.”

Letting go, Jason sighed. “Just…Just keep your mouth shut about it.”

“Will do, will do,” Dick climbed to his feet, staring at his younger brother before asking, “What’s her name?”

After a moment of thinking about whether or not to tell him, Jason relented. Then, he asked another question, but, instead of answering anymore, the Red Hood disappeared off the rooftop. Too much information had been divulged anyway.

It never took Jason long to get to your apartment, and he climbed through the window with great diligence to make sure Nightwing didn’t follow. Everything was dark in your home, a sign for most burglars that the home was empty and could be robbed, so he doubled checked that everything was locked correctly. You had been robbed once before, on the street, and Jason could still remember the angry tears on your face--He didn’t want to see that again. 

Jason felt comfortable enough in your apartment to take off his mask and use your bathroom, but, still, a bit awkward since he was all alone. You had reassured him through texts after you had left him alone there before, your home could always be considered a second home to him. 

After checking that everything was squared away--and taking back a hoodie you had stolen from him-- he went to the kitchen. Switching on the light, Jason grinned. On the counter next to the fridge you were the little red Robin Tupperware. Next to it, orange pop in the glass bottle--His favorite one. 

He was opening the Tupperware when he felt Dick walk up behind him. Rolling his eyes, Jason turned to him. “Get the fuck out.”

Dick held up his hands like earlier, indicating surrender. “Hey, I just wanted to see what the surprise was.”

Jason narrowed his eyes before slowly moving to hold out the Tupperware toward his brother. “Take a cookie and get out. Last time I’m telling you before I tell Damien it was you who wrecked that painting he did.”

Dick gasped, hand still going to take a cookie anyway. “You’re lying.”

“Fuck around and find out.”

Nightwing put the cookie in his mouth as Jason walked him to your apartment window, and paused to praise your work. “They taste just like Alfred’s!”

Jason pushed his brother out onto the fire escape, bribing him with another cookie to keep his mouth shut. Dick started to leave before pausing, turning to his baby brother. “Jason, I won’t tell anyone, I promise. I would like to meet her, though, or for you to tell me more about her.”

Red Hood stared at him, pondering on what to say, before just nodding. That seemed enough for Dick as he swung away from the apartment building, leaving his younger to continue eating his cookies and drinking his soda in peace. Fuck, Jason thought, he was going to have to introduce you to his family one day. Not something he was looking forward to. 

[the-broken-truth]

I love ❤️ the letter that Bruce sent to Dakota. It makes me think of what kind of letter Damien would write to her? Maybe to reaffirm his belief that Marissa kept Dakota out of spite and that her Uncle Tobias isn’t her father. And maybe a brief mention of the Hunter of Artemis stopping him from eliminating him. As Damian would say, to get rid of a few pests.

Broken Truth (Sitting on a boulder with arms folded): A Letter from Damian Wayne to Dakota Blake? I should have known you would be the one who requested this time - you did make a comment about it. Considering Damian's Relationship with Dakota, more like lack thereof... Very well, I can weave these words. Let's get started.

Annoyed was not fit enough word to describe how Dakota Blake felt as a result of dealing with the Wayne Family for the past few weeks; she was completely exhausted and she just wanted to take one of her arrows and shoot both Bruce and his scion in the knees. Damn, she was starting to sound like a Whiterun Guard when the Dragonborn passes him. For the past few weeks, Dakota has been attempting to go about her life ever since she received that letter from Bruce telling her about all the plans he was putting into place to make her take his name and live under his room - sure, he was rich and she did share DNA with him, however she didn't need him before and she didn't need him now that her life was together; hell, she didn't even want him to interfere with her life - this was getting out of hand and she didn't know what to do.

About one week after receiving the letter from Bruce, Dakota was going to work when an unknown man jogged up to her, pulled out a microphone, and started asking her personal questions: How does it feel to be related to Bruce Wayne? Why won't you accept Bruce as her only father figure? Why was she refusing to take up the Wayne Name as her surname? Dakota was confused as to how this strange man knew so much about her when she got a call from her best friend who informed her that the day Bruce first appeared before Dakota, someone from the Gotham Globe followed him and took a picture of them and someone called Bruce and asked about his relationship to Dakota - instead of refusing to tell them anything, Bruce offered an interview where all questions would be answered. Dakota then opened the link her friend had sent her regarding the interview and her blood boiled once again.

Bruce sat across from the interviewer who repersented the Gotham Globe and introduced Bruce to the audience and listeners before thanking Bruce for doing this interview before asking the first question: Who is the girl in the photo and what connection did she have to Bruce? Bruce inhaled and exhaled before he presented his answer: "That girl is Dakota Blake & she happens to be my daughter, my only biological daughter and she happens to be older than my son, Damian Wayne.". Dakota's blood began boiling over as she continued to watch the interview - Bruce was working everything that made her mother and family look like they were villains; acussing them of keeping Dakota away from him on purpose and telling them that Dakota refused to acknowledge him as her father. Dakota couldn't watch anymore and turned off the interview before going to work. Everything was weird there too because it would have seemed that everyone knew who she really was now and they were trying to kiss up to her in order to get closer to the father she never wanted. She needed a break.

During her break, Dakota went to the break room when she noticed she forgot to charge her phone that night - she was far too tired after dealing with her other job to remember to put it on its charger; good thing she remembered she brought her power bank with it and it was in her satchel which was in her locker. She opened her locker and looked wide eyed at the sight of a letter placed neatly on her satchel - where the hell did that letter come from? Who wrote it and how did they get into her locker in the first place to put it there? Dakota placed her phone in her pocket and picked up the letter and opened it before reading it - the first word gave the identity of the responsible party instantly. She sneered.

Sister,

You are too stubborn for your own good, but then again, you are the Eldest of the Wayne Heirs and we are indeed a rather stubborn collection, therefore, I suppose it's just how we are made; I cannot blame you for acting upon your genetic code. However, you are beings tubborn for all the wrong reasons and you know this well, Sister. You're defending the family that kept you away from your real father and kept you from experiencing a life of wealth and happiness. The family you dare to defend made you call your Eldest Uncle 'Dada' when that was meant to be Father's Right; they had not right to take that away from him.

Your mother, your aunts, and your uncles are doing nothing to defend you - they are hindering your progress by refusing to hand you over to your father, where you truly belong, and you are making it no better by standing with them. Just as you did in the court case. I don't know what that judge was thinking allowing you to speak when have clearly been indoctrinated to believe your family knows what is best for you - if they truly did, you would have been here already. Not to mention, they deal with criminals.

You thought we wouldn't find out about that? About the Hunters of Artemis - those thugs that are apparently sworn to protect your family for some reason. Gotham belongs to the Bat Family and this is commonly knowledge, just why do those imposters think they are standing against them? I tried to get rid of your Uncle's Influence on you and I was stopped by one of the Hunters - the pest got away from me but that won't stop me, Dakota. You are going to come home to us if it's the last thing I do.

You need to release a few things, Dakota: You are a Wayne Heir - those with that fate usually reside at Wane Manor. Tobias Blake is not your father, he is merely a man who took that mantle for himself after keeping you away from our father. You are not supposed to defend them - come to your sense and awaken from the dream you find yourself in or I shall be the alarm clock to awaken you myself. The next court case is coming up and I am going to be there - you will renouce your ties to the Blake Family and come home with us. Should you continue to be stubborn... well... you shall see the side of my I inherited from my mother.

Make the right choice, Elder Sister. Until next time we meet.

~Signed, Damian Wayne - Your Younger Sibling