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doormatty3 · 4 months

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Ocean Eyes: Chapter 1 (Orm Marius x Reader)

Masterlist Ao3

Ocean Eyes Masterlink

Summary:

[Orm Marius x Female Reader] [Orm Marius x You]

The ocean has always fascinated you - the ebb and flow of its water, the marine life in the sea and the wild and untamed beauty it exudes. Your attempts to explain this fascination have always fallen short. But when you meet Orm at the seaside one rainy day you find, that he just understands. You offer to show him around since he is not from the city. And you are intrigued by his rather strange quirks and his regal demeanour. After all, how could you not? When his eyes mirror the ocean itself, deep and incredibly blue. OR: You impress Orm with the surface world and he impresses you with his Atlantean cock

Wordcount: 4134

A/N: This is the first chapter for a (probably) 4-5 chapter fic

Also: Our boy Orm deserves some love so this happened.

Normally, you actually like water; after all, it’s an integral part of your life as a marine biologist.

You’ve spent countless hours immersed in the briny depths, studying the mysteries that lie beneath the surface. In the embrace of the watery depths, you’ve unravelled the secrets of hidden ecosystems, marvelled at the kaleidoscope of marine life, and witnessed the symbiotic dance between predator and prey. The ebb and flow of tides, the rhythmic movement of ocean waves – these are the elements that typically elicit admiration and wonder from you.

However, this affection for water does not extend to rain, especially when it chooses to make an unannounced entrance when you’re out for a walk along the seaside.

As the heavens open up unexpectedly, you find yourself caught off guard, the rhythmic pitter-patter of raindrops on the sand disrupts the usual symphony of your thoughts. A muttered curse slips through your lips, a reflexive response to the inconvenience of precipitation, and you hastily reach for your umbrella.

The once-clear sky, a former blue sphere, now cloaks itself in shades of grey, as you struggle with the umbrella, desperately attempting to shield yourself from the sudden downpour threatening to soak you through.

“Thank god,” you mutter under your breath when you finally manage to open the umbrella before being drenched.

As you trudge along the wet sands, your now open umbrella in hand, the lack of shelter becomes painfully apparent. The vast openness of the seaside, which had promised freedom and expansiveness, now offers no refuge from the relentless rain.

The sea, once a source of inspiration, now seems indifferent to your plight, its waves crashing rhythmically as if mocking the irony of a marine biologist seeking escape from the rain.

Amidst the relentless downpour, your attention is drawn to a solitary figure at the edge of the beach. Despite the bad weather and the onslaught of rain, the man remains unwavering.

His gaze is steadfastly directed towards the open expanse of the ocean.

Even from afar you can tell that he’s completely soaked, his blonde hair clings stubbornly to his head, and his clothes adhere to his form like a second skin.

Intrigued by the enigmatic scene, you find yourself pausing in your own battle against the weather, momentarily captivated by the man’s unwavering focus. The rhythmic cadence of the rain seems to fade into the background as you observe the drenched stranger.

Curiosity propels you towards him, each step accompanied by the squelching sound of wet sand beneath your shoes.

Instinctively, you move closer to the man on the edge of the beach, extending the canopy of your umbrella to encompass both of you.

He turns around, surprise evident in his expression, as if awakening from a deep reverie. It becomes clear that your approach went unnoticed, his focus entirely absorbed by the vastness of the open ocean. The sudden shelter you provide seems to bring him back to the present moment.

As your gaze flickers over him, you find yourself inadvertently appreciating the details of his appearance. His smooth skin contrasts with a well-groomed stubble, and his piercing blue eyes hold a hint of depth, perhaps mirroring the expanse of the sea he was lost in moments ago. Expressive eyebrows, a straight nose, and pink lips contribute to an overall attractiveness that stands out even amidst the dampness and the downpour - perhaps the rain even intensified this as your eyes follow the path of a raindrop as it traverses his forehead and nose, eventually dripping from the tip.

Despite the adverse weather, it’s evident that he takes care of himself. The rain reveals the contours of a muscular physique beneath his soaked clothes. A defined chest, broad shoulders, and sculpted arms speak of a physicality that has weathered more than just the current storm.

A quiet “thank you” escapes his lips, accompanied by the subtle curve of a smile that plays on them. As he holds your gaze, his blue eyes reveal more than words convey. There’s an intensity in his look, a depth that suggests the weight of unspoken thoughts resting behind those expressive eyes.

As he breaks the gaze and turns back to the open sea, his presence lingers, all-consuming, and you find yourself unable to simply walk away. Instead, you remain rooted in your spot, holding the umbrella over both of you.

The rhythmic rise and fall of the waves draws your attention, each wave pooling onto the smooth surface of the sand before dispersing like foam. The ocean, in its relentless dance, momentarily recalls its waters, leaving behind a glistening trail of wet sand in its wake.

As you stand there, sheltered under the umbrella, the tableau before you becomes a canvas of contrasts – the vast expanse of the open sea, the ephemeral beauty of the waves, and the tangible presence of the stranger beside you. The sound of raindrops on the umbrella becomes a quiet rhythm, harmonizing with the natural symphony of the seaside.

It really has been ages since you allowed yourself to simply take in the beauty of the ocean and breathe. The thoughts of work, responsibilities, and the hustle of daily life seem to dissolve, rendered insignificant in the face of the vast, timeless expanse of the open sea.

Under the shared umbrella, the ceaseless rhythm of the waves becomes a soothing lullaby, and the salty tang of the sea air fills your lungs with a refreshing breath. The worries and stresses that usually occupy your mind are momentarily eclipsed by the sheer tranquillity of the moment.

With each inhale, you absorb the invigorating sea breeze, and with each exhale, you release any lingering tension. The rain, which was once an inconvenience, now feels like a gentle cleansing, washing away the mental clutter that often accompanies the demands of everyday life.

Normally, your beach walks are just a way to clear your head with familiar surroundings but nothing more than that. So you sift through your thoughts and you ponder the possibility of having seen the man before but his regal demeanour and striking looks leave no trace in your recollections.

Breaking the comfortable silence, you voice your curiosity, “I haven’t seen you here before…” He turns to you, fixing his intense gaze on your face, awaiting your words. “Are you from here?” you inquire.

A subtle smile graces his lips, a fleeting acknowledgement of your question. His hand glides over his chin, tracing the stubble that accentuates his features. Your gaze follows the motion, noting the details - the thickness of his hands, the length of his fingers, and the neatly trimmed nails.

“No,” he begins, and as if sensing your curiosity, he offers a bit more insight, “I’m from far away. I’m… just passing through.”

Despite the cryptic nature of his words, you find yourself captivated by the mysterious charm he exudes. His subtlety and intensity draw you in, leaving you with a desire to unravel the layers behind those enigmatic blue eyes.

“Well then, it’s nice to meet you!” you express with a genuine smile. Taking the initiative, you extend a hand in introduction.

In response to your greeting, he graces you with a full-blown, toothy smile that illuminates his face. His eyes sparkle, reminiscent of sunlight dancing on water, and the skin around his eyes crinkles with the warmth of the expression.

You… want to see that more often, you think. You’d like to be the reason for that infectious smile, to be the reason behind the sparkle in his eyes, and to cast away the haunted look that seems to linger within their depths.

“Happy to make your acquaintance,” he responds, his hand enveloping yours with a firm grasp. As his long fingers curl around yours, a subtle current of electricity prickles at the point of contact, and you find yourself missing his touch when he drops your hand.

“I’m Orm,” he introduces himself.

“Orm,” you test the pronunciation of his name, and you catch the flicker of his eyes as they briefly lower to your lips.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard that name,” you remark, your curiosity piqued.

In response, he shrugs, a somewhat sheepish expression crossing his features. “As I said, I am not from here,” he adds.

“If you ever need a tour guide, let me know,” you offer, extending a friendly invitation. His eyebrows raise in response, and you catch a glint of curiosity in his eyes. “I know a few nice places… some even provide a better view of the ocean.”

As a gust of wind swirls around you, the dampness of your clothes coupled with the cold air sends a shiver down your spine, and goosebumps emerge on your skin. The sudden chill causes you to freeze, the contrast between the warmth of the moment shared under the umbrella and the elements outside becoming palpable.

In contrast, you observe Orm, still drenched but seemingly unaffected by the cold.

The offer to be his tour guide hangs in the air, and for a brief moment, a subtle fear creeps in. Was it too forward? Does he wish to cut the conversation short, politely concealing any desire to decline?

A sense of relief washes over you as Orm’s response breaks the brief tension.

“That would be nice,” he says, his eyes straying back to the expanse of the ocean as if lost in thought.

The soft pitter-patter of the rain envelops you both in a cocoon, creating a serene backdrop to the moment. Despite the logical inclination to seek shelter and escape the rain, something within you resists the notion of leaving. A peculiar reluctance binds you to the spot as if an invisible force tethers you to Orm’s calming presence.

Standing beside him, you feel a sense of grounding and tranquillity it’s a sensation that you haven’t experienced before - well, if you’re honest with yourself, you have felt it before. It’s the same feeling you get near or in the ocean.

Maybe it’s his eyes. His deep, blue eyes seem to hold all the mysteries of the sea, mirroring the tranquil rhythm of the rain and the timeless expanse of the ocean.

____

A few days later you see him again and you find yourself back at the same spot.

Today, the weather is vastly different - there’s no rain, and the sun graces the scene with its warm glow.

As you approach the familiar location, the memories of the previous meeting flicker in your mind. You wonder how Orm will look in the bright sunlight - he had already been a vision when completely drenched.

When he comes into view, you find that he’s even more striking than before,

He is clad in a basic black shirt and matching slacks, the fabric sits snugly on his broad frame, accentuating the contours of his muscular body. The sunlight enhances the contrast, casting a play of shadows that dance along the lines of his thick body.

The blonde hair, now dry and therefore lighter in the sun, is neatly combed back, reflecting the sunlight like strands of golden thread, creating an almost ethereal aura around him.

His gaze is fixed on the sea again. With his head held high and arms folded behind his back, there’s a regal air about him.

“Orm! Hey,” you greet him, genuine warmth in your voice as you approach, happy to see him again. As he turns around to face you, there’s a radiant smile on his lips.

The sunlight adds a gleam to his features as he returns your greeting.

“So, what do you want to see?” you ask Orm, eager to tailor the experience to his preferences. “Have anything in mind?”

He responds with a gracious simplicity, “No, I leave that in your capable hands.”

You can’t help but feel a subtle warmth creeping across your cheeks because he really is rather sweet and charming.

So you clear your throat before speaking, “I promised you some nice places to see the ocean, so let’s do that.”

With a subtle gesture, you signal it’s time to leave, and you start walking with Orm following closely behind. As you set the pace, you observe him adjusting his strides to match yours, a small yet thoughtful gesture that makes your heart beat faster. It’s rare that a guy just does that without having to be asked.

He slips his hands into his pockets, seemingly unsure of what to do with them.

“We’re gonna have to drive a bit,” you mention, looking up at Orm, and tugging your lip between your teeth, “Is that fine for you?”

You gesture towards your small blue car and watch Orm’s gaze as his eyes shift from you to the car before nodding slowly, “Sure.”

As you lead the way, Orm walks behind you, and you notice a hesitation in his movements when you reach the car. He doesn’t do anything until you open your door, watching your movements. To you, he looks a bit lost, as if he’s unsure about how to open the door. But you disregard that thought, it is probably just your mind playing tricks.

As you both get into the car, the doors closing with a reassuring thud, you settle into your respective seats.

“If you need more leg space, feel free to adjust the seat,” you offer, considering he is taller than you.

He meets your gaze with those striking blue eyes before nodding, “Sure, but I’ll be fine.”

Orm’s gaze wanders around your car, and you notice his eyes catching on the seashell chain dangling from the rearview mirror. His hand raises, and his fingers delicately trace over the hard exteriors of the shells. The gesture carries a certain intimacy as if he’s unravelling the stories embedded in each shell.

The image in your mind briefly diverges, envisioning those deliberate touches on your skin with the same care and intensity. You swallow dryly as you try to remember why you’re here - to show him some spots, to be his friend, not to fuck him.

As you start the car, the engine humming to life, you catch what seems like a subtle jump in the corner of your eyes from Orm. However, you dismiss it, attributing it to a trick of the mind or perhaps a momentary startle that often accompanies the sudden sounds of a car coming to life.

“Do you mind fastening your seatbelt?” you ask, your concern for safety evident in the request. Sure, he’s muscular and fit but in case of an accident that won’t help him much sadly.

Orm nods in acknowledgement, and his eyes meet yours as you secure your seatbelt before mirroring the motion.

He is rather strange.

_____

The drive unfolds in a quiet contentment, accompanied by the soft murmur of the radio playing music at a low volume. Orm, for the most part, gazes out of the window, seemingly lost in thought or captivated by the passing scenery. As the sunlight plays on his face, casting gentle shadows, you find yourself fascinated by the play of light, accentuating his features.

At some point you start humming, caught in the melody of a song and even sing quietly along. After a few beats you notice that Orm’s gaze is fixed on you now, an intensive look in his blue eyes as he studies you with a depth that makes you feel vulnerable.

As you become aware of it, a blush creeps across your cheeks. To your surprise, Orm responds with one of those sweet smiles before breaking eye contact and redirecting his attention to the scenery outside the window again.

“We’re here,” you announce to Orm, bringing the car to a stop. The engine’s hum fades as you turn it off, and you both step out.

You brought him to a medium-high cliff site.

The cliff, standing just a few feet above the ocean, is characterised by weathered stones, carved over time by the relentless touch of the water. It’s not a typical beach setting, but the raw beauty of the scene never fails to captivate you.

Below, the waves crash with a rhythmic symphony, their energy echoing against the stone walls in a natural percussion. Each surge sends sprays of seawater into the air, catching the sunlight like a cascade of liquid diamonds before dissipating into the sea breeze.

The sun, hanging high in the sky, bathes the entire scene in a warm, golden glow. It casts its warm embrace upon the waves, creating a dazzling display as the light interplays with the water that reflects the brilliance of the sun. The golden rays catch in the frothy crests of the wave.

A small path, worn by time and exploration, winds its way down the cliffside side presumably leading to a beach down below.

In the stillness of this remote haven, away from the clamour of the city and the watchful eyes of the world, the air carries a purity that is both invigorating and calming. As you close your eyes and inhale deeply, the crisp, clean air fills your lungs, creating a sense of tranquillity that is uniquely serene.

As you stand there a realization dawns upon you - you’ve never brought someone here before. Yet, as you stand there with Orm, the decision to share this sacred place with him feels instinctive, as if his presence harmonizes with the essence of the surroundings.

Deep within your consciousness, a recognition stirs, an understanding that his eyes mirror the tranquil beauty of this place. There’s an unspoken connection between him and the sea, a sentiment that resonates with the rugged cliffs, crashing waves, and untamed nature surrounding you both. It’s as if his very presence is an extension of the landscape - a kindred spirit to the ocean.

“Beautiful,” Orm’s quiet voice interrupts your reverie, prompting you to turn around and face him, finding that his gaze is fixed on you, not on the breathtaking scenery that surrounds you.

“Yeah, I come here to think - I just feel like I can breathe here,” you share, offering a glimpse into the personal significance this place holds for you.

As you speak, you notice that Orm’s eyes remain glued to your form, not wandering to the sea. His intense gaze seems to linger on you as if captivated by something beyond the natural beauty of the landscape. You feel your heartbeat in your whole body and electricity coursing through your skin.

Orm steps closer his intense blue eyes never leaving yours. With a gentle touch, he lifts a wayward lock of hair that has fallen in front of your face and tucks it behind your ear.

The gesture is tender, a subtle connection that transcends words. The proximity and the soft touch create a moment suspended in time, the crashing waves and the untouched beauty of the surroundings fading into the background.

Your breath catches in your throat, momentarily you forget to breathe as you feel his warm skin on your face.

You can’t help but notice the vibrant glow in Orm’s eyes. The sunlight catches in the deep blue hues, and they seem to come alive with a vivid intensity. His gaze, vibrant and open, mirrors the brilliance of the sun that bathes the surroundings.

At that moment, his eyes are a reflection of the untamed beauty of the sea, filled with depths and mysteries that seem to echo the vastness of the ocean.

Orm’s proximity brings with it an enveloping scent that fills the air around you. It’s a fragrance that captures the essence of the sea, a symphony of the breeze, sea salt, and the unmistakable aroma of the beach.

As you breathe in, the familiar notes of the sea transport you to the shoreline, the rhythmic sounds of the waves echoing in your mind.

It is as if he’s water itself.

In the silence, with Orm’s hand gently cradling the side of your face, you notice the subtle movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallows. In a moment of courage, you decide to close the distance.

With a small, bold step on your toes, you reach for his lips, closing the gap between you and Orm. The kiss is a gentle meeting, a fusion of shared connection and unspoken emotions. The crashing waves and the sea breeze seem to hold their breath as if nature itself is pausing to witness this intimate exchange beneath the warm glow of the sun.

Orm’s response is immediate and enveloping. Instead of pulling back, he wraps his strong arms around you, pulling you even closer against his frame. The kiss deepens a mutual exchange that goes beyond words. The embrace is strong and intimate as if the crashing waves below have found their echo in the connection between you and Orm.

Time seems to slow, and the kiss becomes a shared moment suspended in the tapestry of the cliffside sanctuary. The scent of the sea, the warmth of the sunlight, and the touch of his lips create a harmonious symphony, blending with the timeless rhythm of the waves below.

You feel Orm’s stubble against your skin. The subtle scratch of his facial hair becomes a grounding force, connecting you to the present moment, reminding you that this is happening.

It is as if your entire being comes alive.

Every touch, every nuance of the kiss, is a vibrant testament to the living, breathing connection between you and Orm.

Breathless, you break the kiss, and as you look at Orm, he appears positively ravishing. The sea breeze plays with his tousled hair, and the sunlight casts a golden glow upon his features.

His eyes reflect a sense of wonder as if the shared moment was something extraordinary and beyond expectation. And then, with a captivating smile, he pulls back slightly, tracing his tongue over his bottom lip, savouring the taste of the kiss.

“That was unexpected,” Orm says, his intense gaze unwavering as he keeps his eyes firmly on you.

“Unwelcome?” you question, searching for reassurance.

“No, I didn’t say that. It was most welcome,” he assures you with a warm smile, his eyes reflecting a genuine appreciation for the shared moment.

“It’s different from what I thought or expected,” Orm mumbles quietly, his expression turning thoughtful, the words almost lost in the hushed tone.

“What?” you ask, a hint of confusion in your voice, urging him to repeat himself since you didn’t quite catch what he was saying.

“Oh, nothing,” Orm dismisses with a subtle smile, as if choosing to keep certain thoughts close to himself and not to elaborate further.

You lose your train of thought as soon as Orm reaches for your hand, giving it a subtle, reassuring squeeze, telling you without words that you shouldn’t worry about it.

Orm gently releases your hand, his attention drawn to the scenic surroundings. Taking a few steps forward, he moves closer to the edge of the cliff, where he peers down at the undulating water below.

In the soft glow of the sunlight, his features come alive, it paints him with warmth, casting a radiant glow that enhances every detail. The light highlights the slight tousle of his hair as the wind delicately weaves through it.

Orm turns to you again, his eyes reflecting a deep appreciation for the surroundings. “I can understand why you come to this place,” he says, his voice carrying a sincere tone. “It really is something special.“

You nod in agreement and offer a warm smile. “Are you hungry?” you ask because the rumble in your own stomach suggests it’s time for a meal. Orm seems to ponder for a moment, considering the idea, and then he agrees with a subtle nod.

Curiosity piqued, you ask, “What do you feel like eating?”

His response is straightforward. “I’d like a burger with fries and a Guinness.”

A grin spreads across your face as you reply, “I know a spot that serves good burgers. I’m not too sure about the Guinness though - but I’m sure you’ll find something.”

Orm nods in satisfaction and you suggest getting back to the car.

“Lead the way, oh guide of tours,” Orm says, his choice of words eliciting a snort from you at the quirky phrasing.

As you both settle into the car, you take the driver’s seat and start the engine.

Without many words, Orm carefully places a hand on your thigh.

Initially, it’s just the featherlight touch of his fingertips, but when he senses your ease, he gently lays his hand down, spreading his fingers to cover as much space as possible.

The warmth of his touch seeps through the fabric of your jeans, a searing heat that radiates from your leg, enveloping your entire body. Turning your head towards him, you find his gaze fixed on you and in response, you offer a warm smile.

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hadesrise · 1 year

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𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄.

part one — part two

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞. the wayne family witness how you handle jason’s trauma.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘. jason todd x addams!male reader

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘. sfw content, foul language, trauma, nightmares, mentions of torture, typical addams behavior (dark, edgy, gothic, disturbing behavior), romantic, death threats, soft addams!reader, mentions of a very dark and gruesome fictional book, dealing with trauma, fluff, lots of fluff, everything’s just soft

𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊. can't help it, i really enjoy writing addams!reader content. honestly, it's kinda getting old but i guess this will be the last one??? or one more and then i'll end its endless cycle?? anyway, if y'all have any recommended translation apps it'll be nice to know. don't wanna trust google translate that much.

FEM ALIGNED DNI !!

“Why are you awake so early in the morning?”

Bruce’s slightly raspy morning voice interrupts the silent reading you had indulged yourself in, barely reacting at his sudden presence despite the fact you failed to notice him from how focused you were on your book.

You glanced at him only for a split second before your eyes went back to reading again, “I prefer the quietness of your manor in the morning for a quick read. Although, I must say the bright sun is such a terrible sight. It nearly burned me as soon as my consciousness awakened.” As you replied casually, Bruce took notice of how the curtains are closed completely shut to block the sunlight from entering, as if getting even a little bit of it would burn you like a vampire. Well, you did look like a vampire because of how pale and ghostly your skin is as well as the all black, gothic medieval or victorian outfit.

Bruce still wasn’t used to your unique culture, ancient speech and intimidating presence, but had learned not to be too bothered by it ever since you and Jason began visiting the Manor often. He didn’t want to waste energy by constantly reacting to any unusual traits you displayed, and he’s been successful so far. Even though he still doesn’t agree with your morals, he knew not to argue with you like before, since you’ve been nothing but respectful to him everytime you set foot in the manor.

Raising one of his eyebrows, Bruce tilts his head. “Do you always read?”

“Yes, indeed.” Came your immediate response. “Books are what defines me, Mr. Wayne. My soul is practically attached to it.”

“Is that why you always carry a book with you?” Stephanie suddenly chimes in out of nowhere with Tim behind her, curiosity plastered across her face. You nodded, glancing up to see Damian sit down on the other sofa while playing a brutal game that occasionally makes a blood splattering sound.

Bruce sighs, “And why are you all awake so early?”

Tim looks at him weirdly, “It’s already eleven o’clock. Almost lunch time, you know.” Deadpanning, he then leans in from behind to get a glimpse of what you were reading, only to cringe slightly after his eyes read a particular sentence; The flesh muscles of his legs were torn off, almost as if it had been ripped open by a lion, exposing bones with blood uncontrollably flooding out. It’s definitely one of those horror books who has unnecessary amount of gore. “What in the hell are you reading?”

“Bloodthirst by Clementine.” You sipped on a black coffee before continuing, “Wherein the main character becomes bloodthirsty for revenge after his lover had been abducted and mutilated by a group of serial killers. The sentence you’ve read is one of his acts of revenge which includes a pack of wolves.” The corner of your mouth twitched up a bit, looking up at him with that glint in your eyes. “It has a pleasantly satisfying plotline.”

Disturbed and quite freaked out, Tim exchanges eye contact with Bruce and pressed his lips together. “That is... uhm, interesting.” Amusement merely crosses your face before it instantly went back to your usual emotionless expression.

They still haven’t gotten used to the extremely calm demeanor you had because of how most of them grew up not having a quiet presence in the manor, even Cassandra wasn’t as silent as you before. You’re the only calm and fully collected person they’ve ever met, coming off as rather intimidating due to your piercing gaze, emotionless face, wiser-than-thou mind, and utmost patience. Especially the patience one, because most of them were either short-tempered or just born enraged. Sometimes, they get intimidated without you even speaking — once, you and Jason reluctantly joined them to a grand event and someone made an utterly horrible decision to insult Jason by comparing him to the “well-behaved” eldest son Dick, which resulted in you shooting them a piercing, dark, cold and harsh glare not even a second after that instantly made them freeze in spot. That look in your eyes alone made their blood run cold and face pale.

Needless to say, they regretted insulting Jason as quick as the wind blows, but that story’s for another time.

“Where’s Dick? Did he sleep at Barbara’s?” Stephanie wondered, realizing the lack of annoying presence.

“Nope!” An all too cheerful voice in the morning pipes up as Dick appeared with a big smile on his face. He quickly noticed you reading a book and approached, “Reading a dark book again? Where’s Jay?”

“There’s only an obvious answer to an already obvious question, Richard.” Retorting without sparing him a glance, you flipped the page and earned a snicker from Damian. “He will be walking down the stairs soon. Sois patient, frère.”

Dick replies an ‘okay’ before jumping on the couch Damian was sitting on, deciding to annoy his youngest brother instead. Shaking your head with the corner of your mouth twitching up only barely, you focused on reading your book again despite the peaceful silence being broken by their chattering, although it didn’t take long before you averted your gaze and stared at the ceiling, as if feeling something wrong.

Damian notices. “What are you doing?”

You didn’t speak right away. Just staring up like something was there, which also made the others look up in attempt to figure out what you were doing.

“Jason is not sleeping well,” You finally stated, not looking away from the ceiling. “Humans often radiate different energy depending on their mental state, which makes it easier to specifically identify what their current emotions or moods are. It can be felt if you concentrate enough. Jason’s energy has been much peaceful ever since I’ve tormented Joker. It is supposed to stay as that.”

“What do you feel now?” Cassandra asked worriedly, her body leaned back against the wall.

“He’s distressed.” You concluded, shutting the book close without bothering to slip a bookmark on the page, which she noticed quickly. She reads with you a lot and had never seen you close a book without bookmarking it; books are absolute treasures for you, but not as much as Jason now.

Confusion took over Tim’s face as you set your book down and drink your black coffee in one go, “How do you know?”

“There is not one thing I don’t know about Jason.” You remarked nonchalantly, like it’s how it should be. You just knew Jason well enough to understand him more than anyone else, even more than himself sometimes.

Before you could stand up from the couch, a footstep erupts from the top of the stairs and comes Jason slowly walking down, wrapped around in a blanket and thick arms hugging his body, making himself as small as possible despite his large frame. “(Y-Y/n)...?” His voice was thick and hoarse, as if he had been crying, as he stuttered and looked for you like a lost child.

You quickly got up from the couch and walked up to him when he stopped in the middle of the stairs. “Come here, darling.” Jason doesn’t hesitate to drop the blanket and wrap his arms around your neck, clinging onto you for dear life. Slipping your hands on the back of his thighs, you lifted him up with ease and returned to the couch, sitting down sideways so Jason could lay on top of you, just how he liked.

“Horrible...” Jason murmured, face buried in your chest. “Horrible, all of ‘em. It hurts. Everything hurts.”

You frown, although your face had the softest look anyone had ever seen as you gently stroke his back, still having him caged in your arms. “Terrifying dream, was it?” You asked, earning a nod.

“ ‘m scared...” Jason breathes shakily, “I’m still there... Still hurts. Too dark. Cold. He’s still laughing. Hurts, it hurts.” He blabbered, words repeating over and over again, and breath increasingly becoming rapid as panic begins to slowly build up inside him. His entire body was trembling, sobs wreck through his body.

Everyone except you was at lost for words.

Jason seemed... weak and fragile. A cracked glass that can easily break with just one touch. Had Jason been suffering like this all this time? It felt as if Bruce was bludgeoned by a brick in the form of realization, opening his eyes to how the events with Joker truly affected Jason. He was obviously and clearly traumatized (who the fuck wouldn’t be?), but this is the first time everyone had actually witnessed the trauma, considering Jason refused to be vulnerable in front of them.

“Shh... Open your eyes, chéri. Look into mine and breathe slowly,” You gently instructed, rubbing his back in a soothing manner and muttering encouragements. Jason does as he’s told and open his eyes, staring into your calm and comforting (e/c) eyes while attempting to slow down his breathing. “Doing so excellent, mon amour. Breathe in and out, slowly. Good boy. You do not have to rush yourself.” The soft tone of your voice bringing him a sense of safety.

Once he’s calmed down, you slowly hold his hand and squeeze to provide warmth, hugging him tighter with one arm. “Can you tell me where you are and who you’re with right now?”

Jason squeezed back, little tears still running down his cheeks. “T-the Wayne Manor... With—with you... A-and Bruce, and Dick... Tim... Damian... C-Cass and Steph...” His gaze focusing on your encouraging eyes, his mind slowly detached from the nightmare it was drowning itself in.

“Good boy, sweetheart.” You kissed his forehead, “Is it still dark?” Jason shakes his head. “What about coldness? Am I succeeding in warming you up?” He nods this time. You smile, running your hand through his hair. “Be not afraid, Jason. Darkness will not consume your mind forever, although it is a part of our lives. You might remain afraid of the excessive trauma for years, but being afraid of it does not mean you will be chained eternally, and neither does it mean you are weak nor easily destructible. You’ve bravely fought a war within yourself. I know you will be able to defeat the nightmare someday.”

Jason sniffles, “Do you think I’m healing?”

“Yes, very slowly, as how healing process should be.” You stroked his cheek, “Trauma comes with nightmares. It especially shows when you are doing well so it could test your strength, whether you’ll be able to overcome. But it can never defeat you; it only knows to cause pain, agony, and fear. You know love, joy, compassion, and empathy. It is what make us humans that defeats the monsters.”

He curled up against you, “Just want it to be over. I feel less like myself.”

“You are not bounded to your trauma for all eternal, chéri. It does not define who and what you are, and it certainly does not make you any less.” You softly replied. “Never doubt yourself, my love. Healing cannot be completed within a day, it takes more than few years and I will be with you every step of the way.”

Biting his lip, Jason rests his chin on your chest. “You’ll get fucking tired dealing with me. Your patience might not be able to handle it.”

“I cannot get tired of you. Not when you hate pastels too.” Jason chuckles at your joke, the mood surely lightening. “And do not speak as if you don’t know me, Jason. There is no such thing as might not be able to handle it in my vocabulary when it is you. I love you too much. If I cannot handle anything that involves you and matters about you, then my love for you will mean nothing but dishonorable. The two of us definitely have knowledge of how I would rather decapitate myself than offer you a half-hearted love.”

Jason’s heart swell as the back of his eyes sting again, tears threatening to come out. He knew how difficult it is to be with someone as much trauma as he has, which made him live in fear of you getting tired and leaving one day, even though you’ve assured him more than a hundred times. He knew he was difficult to be with even without the trauma, yet you willingly giftwrap your heart to offer to him while simultaneously providing him with the understanding he deserved. You accepted him along with his trauma. Nobody knows how special that feels.

Cassandra and Stephanie sat on the carpet near the couch where you two laid, so they could check up on Jason. The others had scooted closer as they watch you comfort him nearly expertly.

“Can still feel it, (Y/n).” Jason snuggles on your chest, “The crowbar. It’s still hitting me.”

You gently pull his hand to see his arm that was littered in autopsy scars, some little and some a bit big. Caressing them, you press a lingering kiss. “It was just a fragrance of your memory, beloved. You are safe now, I will keep you protected for as long as I am here. No crowbars.”

Jason nods and looks up at you, puckering his lips. You immediately kiss him, then pressed a kiss on his forehead. “I know he can’t touch me anymore. You already tortured him enough.” He smiled and wiped off his tears.

You pat his head and hug him closer, “Everything will be alright someday. Would you like a hot chocolate with marshmallows on top? I’ll cook you breakfast as well.”

“Yeah, that would be nice.” Jason whispers.

You slowly slip out from under him, making sure he’s laying down comfortably before fetching the blanket he dropped and wrapping it around him, muttering an i’ll be right back. Watching you disappear into the kitchen, Jason sighs in content and curls up on the couch, still feeling vulnerable but not worse. Stephanie smiles softly at him as Dick walks over to sit beside her, ruffling Jason’s hair.

“You’ll be fine soon, little bird.”

Jason only nodded. The first time he didn’t scoff nor bark, indicating he still can’t forget the nightmare he had.

Soon, his other brothers joined Dick while Bruce sits on the couch beside Jason, looking regretful and apologetic with a frown. Witnessing the amount of trauma Jason has to endure even after many years dropped an equal amount of realization within the family, even though they knew he was traumatized. They just didn’t know the extent to it, and seeing it unfold before them had made them realize they hadn’t been supportive or doing enough for Jason when they should’ve known how much trauma torture and murder would cause. He literally died and came back to life — it’s impossible to not carry a lifelong trauma that greatly affects his personality and attitude; the utmost rage and murderous desires he displayed before might have just been his coping mechanism until meeting you, who quickly became his comfort and calmness.

Nearly most of them had guilt written in their faces due to feeling as if they had been invalidating Jason’s trauma, especially Bruce who did not deal with the entire thing well and had failed to show Jason he cared even though he did more than the son could ever know.

Once again, you beat him to it.

“He cares about you so much, doesn’t he?” Bruce quietly and rhetorically questioned.

Jason nodded happily, “A little too much sometimes. (Y/n)’s always careful and calm, but he gets reckless when it’s about me. Like that Joker thing.” He chuckles, “He said fucker didn’t even have time to laugh.”

The corner of Bruce’s mouth twitched up only to disappear, the guilty look still staying. He breathes in and out slowly, causing Jason to look at him questioningly as Bruce avoided eye contact. “Jason, I... uh — I’m sorry. I’m sorry If you ever felt invalidated or unloved by me. I had been so focused on my morality that I failed to show you I cared for you. I really do, Jason. Just maybe not the way you were expecting me to show it.” He carefully says as to not trigger anything in his son.

Pulsing his lip, Jason shakes his head and reached out to play with Bruce’s hand. Bruce seem surprised, but let him nonetheless. “Mhm,” He hums, “It’s okay. I was just angry and hurt... You didn’t look for me enough, and there’s suddenly a new Robin, so... I thought you forgot about me. I couldn’t accept that you seemed to move on so easily.”

Bruce’s heart clenches. “That’s not true, son.”

“I can see that now. I was too bitter and angry, it made me blind.” The broken boy smiles a bit in an attempt to reassure him. “It’s not your fault I turned out like this and ruin everything, you know.” He sadly says, looking down.

The older Wayne shakes his head, “You don’t ruin everything, Jason. You were coping and still coping with what you went through. (Y/n) was right when he said healing takes time.”

Letting go of his hand, Jason instead fidgeted his own fingers now with a sad pout. A little child-like. “But you gave up on me. I know I’m difficult. It’s why you normally can’t deal with me and we always end up arguing. And I was a failure ‘cause I died easily as a Robin.” His voice was slightly high-pitched and trembling. It reminded Bruce again of a child.

Immediately shaking his head, he grasped Jason’s fidgeting hand and firmly looks at him. “You were never a failure, Jason. I’m sorry I made you feel that way. You did everything you could. What I can’t forgive is that I let you die as Robin and not as Jason Todd. I can’t forgive myself for being too late to save you. It wasn’t your fault. Nothing’s your fault, son.”

He pulls him into a hug, which caused Jason to breakdown as he clings onto Bruce and cries his heart out. Embracing him tightly, Bruce kept stroking his back for comfort. The others watched silently with a sad smile, knowing both of them wanted to reconcile for a long time but was too hesitant to do so. It made them happy yet emotional at the same time, Dick and Stephanie already having tearful eyes.

“It truly feels upsetting to ruin this wonderful moment, but I’ve got to feed Jason. May I?” Your calm voice erupted, just then everyone noticing your presence standing at the side of the couch. Bruce chuckles and pulled away, sitting down on the carpet instead so you could take his place. You nodded appreciatively before taking a seat.

Jason sits up, accepting the hot chocolate from you with both hands and sipping it. You ruffle his hair gently.

“His age mentality regresses when the nightmare’s been too severe,” You explained what Bruce was wondering. “It is one of his responses to trauma. I believe it’s the inner child coming out, attempting to relive again.”

“How long?” Dick asked.

“About an hour.” You take the mug from Jason and set it on the table as you begin to cut a bite sized piece from the pancakes to feed your lover. “He has the desire of being taken cared of and I intend to fulfill it. Mother and father takes care of him once in a while when it happens in our Addams home.”

“Mom and dad takes me shopping. It’s fun.” Jason remarked, grinning.

“Shall we buy you some dead flowers, chéri? And a new gun, perhaps. Would you like that?” You caressed his cheek while feeding him with the other, Jason leaning his face on your palm.

“Yeah, I’d love that. Love you, (Y/n).”

“I adore you too, my love.” You kissed the tip of his nose, which caused him to erupt into a fit of giggles as you feed him again.

After Jason had fallen asleep peacefully on the couch, you pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh deeply in attempt to calm yourself down. Seeing Jason struggle with trauma is not easy, especially when he’s far too scarred mentally that it causes mental age regression. It also probably came from the fact he had never lived a peaceful life even before meeting Bruce, losing his childhood by witnessing the harsh reality at such a young age, and having to stop being a child after becoming Robin.

You had utmost patience, but when something affects Jason greatly like this, you often tend to lose calmness and be overwhelmed with rage and bloodthirst. If you could take all his pain away and those painful memories, you’ve already done it. You would give up anything for Jason to not struggle with the torment of his torture and murder — you will give up everything for him.

“You okay, (Y/n)?” Tim asked worriedly, feeling your atmosphere change.

“I wouldn’t call blood boiling with rage okay.” You muttered murderously as your dark eyes glared daggers at the carpeted floor. “Joker is already encaged and chained down within the cells of Arkham Asylum, but the aftermath of his vile actions still haunts and torments the victims who have gone through survival. Trauma is inescapable, including fear of the perpetrator. Their spirits won’t rest peacefully, alive or dead, while his existence still roam the Earth.”

The way you spat with utmost disgust and anger was now understandable, as well as your nearly inexcusable actions committed before. You witness this side of Jason more often than they do. It’s already unbearable even for them, what more for you who takes precious care of him?

Suddenly, Bruce comes to understand your morals. Why you do what you do, why you believe what you believe.

“May I ask you to take care of him while I’m out, Mr. Wayne?” You asked, voice thick, clearly grounding yourself to your humanity.

Bruce nods, for the first time. “Yes, now go do what you want to do.”

You smiled, immediately standing up and wearing your coat before rushing off the manor.

Cassandra shakes her head with a smile as Damian looked at his father with a smirk, “He might kill him, you know.”

Bruce just shrugged.

“Well,” Stephanie sighs, “Can’t stop (Y/n) from going on a rampage against the Joker. He deserves what’s coming for him anyway.”

Few hours later, Jason wakes up to the news of Arkham Asylum increasing its security due to an unknown attack against Joker that left him barely alive, and you casually reading a book with pleased and prideful look. It doesn’t take him long to figure things out and tackle you in a hug, leaving kisses all over your face.

Joker’s probably going to have nightmares about you, but he deserves what’s coming for him, doesn’t he?

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imagines-to-quench-thirst · 1 year

Text

Farmer Clark

something just snapped at me when I saw this picture. I mean look at this picture

Pairing: Clark Kent x reader

Genre: SMUT, 18+, sir kink, breeding kink, female receiving

Notes: I saw this picture on Pinterest and yeah, I got carried away. Ah, to be on a farm with Clark.

The sun was blazing on the hot Metropolis day. Clark's farm was standing proudly on the hills surrounded by nature. Green hills were holding the fruits of the labor of Clark's blood, sweat, and tears, making produce for him and you for the following year. Y/n walked out of the barn, watching Clark throw a ball of hay over his shoulder as if weighing 2 grams. Maybe for him, it did. His muscle shined from the sweat that glistened on his slightly tanned skin. His pecs tensed every time he pulled, hauled, and threw something, anything, around the farm.

The man was a god walking among mortals, and you felt your mind fill with lewd images of him. His hand held the wrench as he knelt down in front of his tractor, trying to fix minor damage, a damage he told you about, but you could not concentrate on that as you saw his biceps move with each swing, tug, and pull. Observing him kneel like that gave you more ideas and wants. Wishing you were the one sitting there and him kneeling in front of you, eating you out until you see the stars, and he was so good at that.

"-pass me the...Y/n...Y/n?" Clark brought you out of your daze, noticing your head snap and your eyes trying to find him, finding him on the floor, lying on his back, looking confused, his hand reaching for yours. Giving him your hand, he chuckles.

"As much as I love to hold your hand, your hand can't unscrew a 5-inch bolt. Pass me the tool there."

With a slight blush on your cheeks, you pull away, taking your hand away from his grasp and handing him the appropriate tool, crouching down and sitting on the hay-filled ground, watching him do the work. Work you knew nothing about, you loved being around the farm, and living that quiet farm life, enjoying it with Clark. Relishing in every moment with him in this life, every early morning even though you hated to get up sometimes, every day off when you ran across the field while Clark chased you, every kiss that was stolen away from you while you were trying to make an apple pie, every time riding the tractor while he drove enjoying the bumpy ride.

"-in your world..."

"Huh?"

Snapping back, you see Clark in front of your face. "I said, 'You really are in your own world, darling?' That is what I said."

Laughing awkwardly, you look at him, seeing the smile on his face, his eyes fixed on you, and his big strong hands caressing your tights. Clark saw the glint in your eyes, he felt your heartbeat quicken when his hand inched a bit higher towards your waist, caressing unhurriedly as if trying to make you say it. To say what you want. What you want him to do to you.

"You know that I can feel you, sweetness. Every breath that stops in your throat, every whimper that you muffle, each gaze you throw at me. Therefore, you can tell me, darling. What do you want?"

Clark was playing the long game as much as you did. But on a much higher level. And he looked so delectable like that. Muscles on display, just wearing the overalls, he was playing every single character in your favorite romance books. And you wanted nothing more than to skip to the best part, but you needed to speak, as thinking too long might not help. He is a hero, but reading minds was not his forte.

"I want you, Kal-El. I want you to have your way with me."

Leaning into him, you kiss him, wrapping your hands around his neck, scratching the baseline of his hair, nipping and tugging. Clark felt himself shift into more of his primal urges, and the kiss was the fuse that started it. His nose filled with your arousal as his hands began to remove bits of your clothing; unlike Clark, you had more clothes on yourself. Sitting in his lap, you felt his length harden, your hips sway back and forth, and you continued to make out. The motion takes a new direction as Clark picks you up in his arms, laying you gently on the ground, the hay starting to make your skin itch. Pulling away, Clark breath out

"Put this behind your back." He offers his jacket, and you happily take it, placing it on your back.

Laying comfortably on it, Clark stops to take you in, your heart, your body, your whimpers, and at that moment, he wants to devour you.

"Darling, will you let me eat you out?"

You can simply whimper as your legs want any friction as they rub together. Removing your pants and underwear, Clark's face is in front of his other favorite pair of lips(as he said), and for once, you didn't mind the view. Clark was face down, ass up, and after his perfect face was his perfect ass sticking in the air. His blue eyes looked into yours, and you felt his tongue lick you, so slowly and sensually, like a feather touching your skin.

"More, Clark! This isn't enough." You say as you cup your breasts, fondling them, trying to add more sensation.

"I just started, pet. Believe me, I will have my way with you. I will corput you." Clark stated as he started his work. Licking up your folds, tracing each curve, fold and dip you had to offer. All of his tongue work leading to your clit, sucking with a harsh motion making you yelp and arch your back. Clark knew what he was doing to you, but you had no idea what you were doing to him. Sure, he was in pain as his cock was painfully hard and his balls heavy, needing to be emptied inside you, to breed you but for now, seeing you like this and that just being the start gave him some satisfaction. His fingers found your backside as they toyed with the rim making small circles on the entrance.

That feeling to you was different, your first time of him doing that and still being so gentle. The sensation started to bubble in you feeling a climax nearing extremely close.

"Clark, I am close. Stop."

At the word, Clark stops and looks concerned "Are you okay? Was I too rough? I know we didn't talk about anal-" You laugh at his words as you bring him up to you, kissing him passionately, telling him in the kiss that everything is perfect.

"What I mean by 'Stop.' was that I do not want to cum like this, but I want to cum together."

Clark looks at you and chuckles himself.

"You had me worried there, missy. But what you ask, you shall receive since you have been such a good girl."

"Yes."

Clark towers over you, his muscles shining from the overhead lighting and casting an intimidating shadow on your body.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir." You reply.

Your body tenses as you feel his cock tapping your clit, teasing you. His hips push forwards with a slow, agonizing pace, your walls making way for his massive length as he nestles deep inside you, finding the warmth and spark he wanted. Placing your hands on his shoulder, you let yourself relax and enjoy the moment. His hips moved back slow as ever, making you whine at the loss of his fullness. Clark chuckles darkly

"I knew you wanted me to fuck you. But today, I am not doing that." he says while looking deep into your soul "I am going to breed you." he proclaimed, slamming his hips into you, the sensation dilating itself to a maximum in a second. Taking a fast pace, you saw his eyes closed, focused on what he is feeling and giving you as his ears are filled with your moans and pornographic sounds filling the empty barn.

"I will make sure you are full of my cum. No matter how many times you will carry my child." he voiced, his hands keeping yours in a gentle touch while his hips proclaimed you.

Hearing his statement, you felt a fire stir in you. You and Clark talked about having kids and occasionally having baby fever but nothing so sure came from his mouth as of seconds ago.

"Yes! I want your babies, Clark!" you screamed out, giving him an inkling that you, too, wanted this life.

His hips continued to snap into yours as his fingers found your clit rubbing it, pressing just hard enough for you to be closer to your climax.

"Then if we want a baby...we need to cum together. What do you say, missy? Are you close? I can feel you squeeze me tighter and tighter."

At a loss for words, you shake your head up and down, shutting your eyes and feeling the inevitably snap in you as you came. Clark's pace slowed as he rutted into you, letting himself fall beside you, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you inhumanly close.

"You really make me crazy. You know that, darling?" Clark said, kissing your neck, leaving a few hickeys in its wake. You watched him carefully pull out as he grabbed his overalls to clean you up. You pull away from him, saying "Those overalls are the reason we are in this position. Don't you dare ruin them."

Clark looks at them, confused "They are just overalls."

Standing up slowly, still feeling full, you say, "Those are the sexiest overalls I have ever seen."

With a naughty gleam, Clark throws the overalls over his shoulder " Then I will have to find another way to clean you up."

I have a audio file on farmer Clark in the making if you want to hear a snippet of it CLICK HERE.

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xoxo-mylove · 1 year

Text

Missing Something You've Never Had

(Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader, Batmom!Reader x Batboys)

*NOT EDITED*

Word count: 5,162

Synopsis: You walk in to your home to find your family looking a t you like a stranger. Your family’s counterparts discover the life they could have had and you severely miss your version of the batboys.

Warnings: Angst, LOTS and lots of angst, self-hate, Bruce Wayne’s destructive thoughts, parental issues, mommy issues and hell daddy issues too, very sad in general, I’m sorry in advance, fluff toward the end

(*A/N: I lied in my last post lol I definitely was not writing but I finished this very sad batmom one-shot that I hope will make up for it before going into this new year! I won’t guarantee another one-shot soon but I will promise you it will be an Al Ghul!Reader! So be on the lookout!! Anyway, keep in mind this Bruce is very much canon Bruce Wayne who is allergic to affection. I hope you enjoy lovelies)

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Coming back from work and seeing your family look at you like you were an alien was definitely...shocking. And yet right there they were.

After not seeing your family in the kitchen once you arrived home. you immediately went down to the Batcave.

Walking down the steps and approaching your husband with a smile you didn’t even hear Barry’s shout ‘Wait Y/N!’ before you embraced your love and felt him stiffen under your touch.

It seems that your action ensued silence over the room and you slowly let Bruce go and looked around the room to see your boys looking at you with obvious shock underneath their cowls and masks.

Damian looks at you with an expression you haven’t been faced with since when he first arrived at the manor. Your baby boy looking at you with suspicion and contempt was staggering. This was the first crack that formed in your heart.

Then there was Tim. Your Tim, looking at you with a guarded appearance and eyes screaming caution. Like you weren’t supposed to be there. Your boy who would immediately come to you after his night out and seek a hug. Now it was like he was looking through you, creating yet another crack in your heart.

Next was Jason whose face added to your heartbreak when he merely glanced at you. Not even sparing you an extra look as if you weren’t someone on his radar. Your Jay-bird looking at you with such indifference and lack of love.

And your first son. Your oldest looking at you with no love but concern. Not concerned for you but for his brothers. As if your mere presence was disrupting something. As if there is no reason you should be there.

No reason.

You glance back at Bruce to see him looking at you with that stare. The guarded batman stare. Now you feel dizzy. Quickly glancing towards Barry not wanting to see your Bruce looking at you like that, you face Barry with widened eyes and a flushed face.

Barry looking at you with genuine sympathy says the words that confirmed all your worst fears. “This isn't your family Y/N. They’re from a different universe”

God, you're going to be sick.

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After seeing your shocked face and the uncomfortable, suffocating silence in the room Barry took you back inside the manor to explain to you and Alfred what happened. Leaving your fa- leaving them in the cave.

Apparently, Barry had a run-in with reverse Flash and somehow your family was sucked into a wormhole transporting them into another universe while taking a version of your family in that universe here. in your universe..... It was all very confusing and devastating to hear and you shed a few tears.

You had to have asked Barry a dozen questions about this other universe about where they could be, how this happened, and most importantly, how you were going to get them back. Barry told you that he and the league are figuring it out and will find them and you believe him.

So here you are sitting at dinner with a different version of your family in silence. It actually makes you want to cry.

Right now the boys would be telling you and Bruce about their day and catching you both up on their lives. Instead, they’re looking down at their plates while awkwardly glancing at you and hurriedly glancing away once you make eye contact with them.

It’s horrible.

And don't even get started on Bruce, that man has made a point to not even glance at you the entire duration of dinner. Just sitting there with a blank face and clearing his throat every few minutes.

It’s horrible.

Having enough of the silence (felt like knives in your back not being able to talk to your family) you clear your throat and immediately all their eyes shoot towards you.

Flushing from the attention your smile hesitantly chooses to try and talk to them instead of silence. They are still your family. They’re still your boys and husband. You’re just not their person right now. And until you can see your family again (you will see them again) you still care for these people and will do anything to make sure they are comfortable in their home.

“I- I know this is- well this situation we are in is very.... umm well it’s very”

“Weird” Dick blurts out before he can stop himself, earning a look from Bruce whose attention has been solely on you since you opened your mouth.

“Yes, Hon- I mean yes, Dick It’s very weird. But this is--- no matter what universe you all are from it’s still your home. And I don’t want you guys to be uncomfortable in your own home so if you have any questions just.... well just ask.”

the silence stretches out between you all before you hear a voice from your left.

“What exactly are you to us- I mean what are you to them?” Tim asks.

The question itself was easy to answer before but now in front of the boys who you know have got through horrible and traumatic things just the same as yours. You don’t know how they will react especially Bruce, Mr. Idontdesrvelove. (Though he’s gotten so much better with you and the kids)

“Well, I'm your guy’s mom.”

Silence. Deafening silence and then Alfred thankfully arrives, saving you from the conversation you know you’ll have to have at some point. But not today. Not when it’s so fresh.

“Miss Y/N, you do have an early day tomorrow so I think it’s all time we retire to bed. I'm sure you all are especially tired from your night.” Alfred says with a sympathetic tone you are so grateful for.

“Of course” You stand up from your chair drawing attention to you once again.

You face your......you face the boys and smile softly and bid them goodnight. Hoping that when you wake up that this is all a bad dream and Bruce will be snoring in the bed and you hear your kid's voices outside the door.

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Bruce’s POV

This is all very uncomfortable. Bruce has a wife whom he’s never met in his life and who is the mother to his children.

Bruce watches you walk up the stairs to a bed that they share or he shares with you. The other him.

Ever since you hugged him in the Batcave and looked at him with eyes so tender and full of love Bruce couldn't help but feel a small amount of jealousy of....the other him. He has it all. He has children and a wife. Who loves him. He must not be as fucked up as he is. Your Bruce probably still has his parents or didn't witness their murder and has healthy coping issues. Yeah, he's envious of this other him.

Bruce looks to his kids to see them also confused staring at you. Is this what your kids have as a mother? Someone to go to for that soft and soothing guidance. How he remembers his mother was to him. He’s not just envious of the other Bruce but envious for his children. His rampant thoughts are stopped when Alfred- your Alfred speaks again.

“master...Master Bruce, I've set you up in the spare room by master Jason’s. It is ready for you to retire in whenever you see fit. Boys your rooms are... well they are ready for you but if this manor is different ill be happy to show you the way.”

“Don't worry Alfred this manor is the same as ours” Jason speaks up for the first time since arriving.

“Very well boys if you need me I'll be in the kitchen preparing tea for Miss Y/N” Alfred takes his leave and the boys instantly start up their conversations.

“This is freaky..” Tim says while glancing at his Bruce and brothers.

“Yeah. We have a...mother in this universe” Dick hesitantly says, like saying the word ‘mother’ is all but confusing to him.

“yeah, I probably don’t get snuffed by Joker in this one” Jason offers sarcastically. Bruce closes his eyes at this and leans back in his chair. He saw Jason’s Robin costume. Identical to the one in their Batcave. Maybe this universe isn’t as good as he thought if your Bruce still couldn’t save Jason from his fate.

Damian ever the blunt kid speaks Bruce's thoughts, “Tch, I don't think so Todd. I saw your infamous Robin costume. Identical to the one in our universe” He says snidely.

“Yeah, me too evil spawn. It’s called a joke.” Jason responds while rolling his eyes.

“Boys. Enough” Bruce says with a firm tone that stops all conversation.

“Let’s go to the sitting room we have a lot to discuss.” Bruce stands up and leaves the kitchen hearing the sound of footsteps and disgruntled murmurs trailing after him.

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Bruces POV

The boys and he have been talking about how to get back to their universe for a while. Bruce has made it a point to not bring up you in the conversation. Silence just ensues and awkward answers when you are brought up.

Talking with Dick about using the Batcave to contact this universes League and help get home he sees Damian get up off the chair and stride to a cabinet filled with...CDs? Damian grabs four of them and hesitantly grabs another looking at it for a second before putting it underneath the other four and walking back to the couch.

“I found CDs that have our names on them.” He announces effectively stopping all conversation and capturing all of our attention.

The silence stretches out before Dick speaks up, “Should we watch them.” When everyone is still silent he hurriedly explains himself “Well, I just mean are you curious about how the other versions of us live. Especially with Y/N”

It's silent again until suddenly Jason stands up ripping the CDs from Damian's hands (making him scramble up to get them back before Dick scolds him) and puts one in effectively shutting everyone up and their attention is drawn to the TV.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Dick’s POV

This whole day has been extremely weird and uncomfortable. Especially uncomfortable to know that another version of him has another mom. And yet as he watches the home video play out the feeling of uncomfortableness leaves and jealousy replaces it.

He watches Bruce and you record yourself making him his birthday breakfast. Something that sounds so simple and normal it makes Dick’s heart break a little.

“BRUCE STAWP!” You squeal dodging the whipped cream he tries to get on your face. “What? You can do it to me but I can’t do it to you?” your Bruce asks with a smile and whip cream plopped on his nose. “Yes, it is fair because I am the one making our son's birthday breakfast,” You say looking into the camera with a big beautiful smile. The boys and Bruce see your Bruce pick up the camera and record you putting the finishing touches on your Dick’s pancakes. “It’s six a.m love, the kid is still drooling right now” They hear Bruce say behind the camera.“Still Bruce, we need to sing happy birthday first thing in the morning!” your say with a childish whine. While balancing the tray of breakfast food and smiley pancakes in a tray.

Dick feels his throat close up and the need to run away while watching the video. This love that he sees you have for your Dick and the care your Bruce is showing is something he has never experienced since living with Bruce and yet misses. Can you miss something you’ve never had? Because this is definitely how he feels. Dick remembers the touch and love of a mother and watching this just reminds him of the feeling.

The boys watch as Bruce records you opening the door to your Dick’s room and see little dick sleeping with drool on his pillow.“God, he’s going to be embarrassed when he’s older and watches this video” they hear Bruce say with a quiet laugh. You turn and give him a fake stern look and crouch down by Dick’s bed and softly shake him awake. Your Dick slowly opens his eyes and focuses on you. His face instantly lit up and a smile breaks out on his face. “Mom!” he yells out happily pulling the covers back while you set the tray on his lap. Giving him a kiss on the cheek good morning. They hear Bruce laugh and tell Dick happy birthday while giving him an affectionate head shake. The boys and Bruce watch Dick and the two of you sing ‘Happy Birthday’, eat pancakes together, laugh and smile, and basically be a family. The video ends with Dick taking the camera from Bruce and whispering into the lens saying, “This is the best Birthday ever!” with a cheesy smile on his face.

Dick is uncharacteristically silent while everybody looks at him. He finally stands up and takes his CD out putting someone else’s in drawing their attention back to the TV.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Damian’s POV

This whole thing is ridiculous. Everyone is getting all sappy over a single woman who none of them know. Damian sees this as stupid and it quite frankly makes him angry. He already has a mother. he doesn't need to listen and watch himself with a strange woman.

And yet just like Dick, the anger turns to sadness and he also becomes jealous. Watching another version of himself receive the love and attention that Damian has only seen in movies and read in books. And yet as he watches him and his siblings fight to open presents he is reminded that he is just a kid.

Who just wants a family.

“Everyone! Everyone!” Video you calls out to your children currently fighting for presents. “Because this is Damian’s first Christmas with us he will be opening the first gift,” you say in a tone that makes all your children concede and watch Damian open one of his gifts. As you hand your Damian a gift wrapped in Christmas Robin wrapping and a black bow he immediately dives in and opens it to find a collar. Confused he looks at you and at his father to see you both smiling at him, chuckling. Your Damian watches you leave the room and come back in with a black kitten with white paws in your arms. Damian lets out a loud gasp and runs to you taking the cat in his arms. The camera zooms in on his blinding smile and his small whisper of “Thank you Ummi” to you. The boys and Damian watch as you give him a big kiss on his forehead and Bruce giving him a big hug.

The silence stretches out between the group because everyone knows that in their universe Damian doesn't receive Alfred the cat in such a memorable and sweet way.

Damian especially is just staring at the screen yearning for that motherly love. And a bad thought crosses his mind of what if they just stayed here. Damn the consequences. He wishes for this mom.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Tim’s POV

Tim’s always been curious and once he saw you giving an affectionate hug to Bruce and the pain that went across your face when his brothers and he looked at you with indifference.

Watching his brother's faces while they watched their home videos he was a little scared of his.

His mother has always been distant and he’s never really experienced motherly love but watching you in the home videos, he’s scared to see you with him and be consumed with jealousy like his brothers. Scared to watch you love a version of himself and not experience that love.

And yet he watches his video and is filled with that feeling anyway.

“Hellooo whoever is watching this home video!” you say with a smile. “It’s probably us sweetheart,” Bruce says popping into the frame. You hurriedly move the camera away from him and talk to the camera. “Ignore him. But today we are at Tim’s school watching him graduate!” you say with a happy squeal and turn the camera to zoom in on Tims's figure clad in his cap and gown, oblivious to your recording him. “Tim is graduating with high honors and receiving multiple awards tonight” the boys and Bruce listen to your Bruce say in an obviously proud tone. The boys watch as multiple names are called and you both politely clapping for every student. And once you hear Tim’s name you both go ballistic. While as ballistic as your Bruce could go by whistling and clapping louder than ever with a proud grin. But for you, you're screaming at the top of your lungs, on the verge of sobbing, shouting “My baby boy!” earning looks from bystanders and laughs from your husband. The video ends with your Bruce recording you giving your Tim the biggest hug and kiss on the cheek while he smiles a bashful smile and celebrates with you and his dad.

Tim’s thoughts run rampant so much that he needs to lie down. He’s never felt this bitter and angry. His Bruce didn't come to his graduation and he’s watching everything he’s ever wanted happen on screen.

It's not right and it's not fair.

Why does your family get you and they don’t?

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Jason’s POV

He already knows what’s going to be on that CD. He knows how he’ll react and he knows that he mentally can’t do that right now. He can’t watch something that he died for (a mother's love) play out in front of him.

He won't do it.

“I’m going to bed” Jason suddenly announces. It's suffocating in the living room and he can’t deal with looking at anybody’s face any longer.

He doesn't stick around for an answer he just goes up to his...other his’s room. He expects to see a room identical to his but once he opens the door he sees a completely different room.

This one looks lived in. Like someone uses it. In his universe, he rarely goes into his childhood room. Too many memories and too many feelings he rather not face. But this room. There are recent pictures of him. Multiple pictures of him and his... family all happy together.

He hurriedly looks away and strips himself of his extra gear and lies on his..or his bed in silence. He feels uncomfortable very weird.

He turns on his side prepared to close his eyes and hopefully not wake up for a long time when he sees it. On his bedside table is a framed photo of you and him. He’s in front of you smiling a cheesy bright smile (missing teeth prominent in the photo) dressed in a Peter Pan costume. Your arms are wrapped around his neck with a beautiful grin on your face dressed in a Tinker bell costume.

It’s so stupid but it makes him smile like a fool because at least a version of himself finally received the love of a mother.

Something he’s yearned for all his life before joker was to have a mother in his life and the thought that he gets that in a different universe is what makes it easy for him to close his eyes and sleep that night.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Bruce’s POV

Jason just left and the suffocating silence returns.

Bruce sees Dick slowly rise from the couch and tell everybody to go to bed and something about talking more in the morning. He hears his sons rise from the couch sleepily making their way into their rooms and feels Dick linger by the doorway.

“Bruce are....are you going to bed?” he hears the hesitance in his voice and he wonders if Dick was going to ask him a different question but stopped himself.

Isn’t that the relationship they have? Unable to communicate and ask each other what's wrong.

It’s all his fault.

If he wasn’t so scared he could have found Y/N in his life and his family would have been different.

He would have been different.

he finally finds words to answer his son, “I think...I think I'm going to stay up a little while longer.” he says while turning his profile to him.

Bruce hears him whisper a soft “okay” and walks off into his room for the night. He waits until he hears the door close, to get up off the couch and grab the CD labeled ‘Wedding’.

The mere title makes his stomach drop but he’s always been one to emotionally scar himself. He sits back down to watch the video play out. He releases a strangled sigh when he sees himself in a suit and tie.

“What does the Groom to be have to say on this lovely day” a voice Bruce recognizes as Clark says. He sees himself looking at the camera dressed to impress with a small smile on his face rolling his eyes at his friend's tone. “I'm very happy today Clark” the lucky him responds. “Oh yeah! Why might that be you think?” Your Bruce sighs, “Because I'm getting married to the love of my life Clark.” Bruce hears your Clark release an annoying ‘awwww’ that makes your bruce roll his eyes and shoo him off. He watches the video for a while and he sees the whole league there. He sees his friends as Bruce Wayne and Batman all together for you and your Bruce. He watches your friends and your Bruces friends leave sweet heartfelt messages that you both probably watched later. Alfred's message is what makes his throat constrict. “I’ve known Master Bruce since he was a little boy and I can't tell you how happy it makes me to be able to see him finally share his life with the most graceful woman on this planet. Someone who continues to amaze me with her beautiful character and who I think of as a daughter. I am unbelievably happy that my boy has met you and is going to spend the rest of his life with you. I love you both very much.” With tears building in his eyes, he sees Clark open the door to see you in a white dress with a brilliant smile. When you open your mouth to speak is when the video starts to buffer and stop.

Bruce sits up in his seat praying that the video starts to work again when it completely pauses on your face.

The video stopped working.

And maybe that is the breaking point but the tears fall and he drops his head into his hands. Shoulders shaking and gasping for breath he cries. He cries because of the life he could’ve lived. The person he could have lived it with.

He cries for the mother his kids could have had and the presence that could have helped them through their lives. His kids. His wonderful kids deserved that and he hates himself for not giving that to them.

He also hates himself for not letting himself have that.

He doesn't know how but he eventually gets up off the couch and walks to the extra room by Jason’s. He passes your room on the way and just stands in front of it. This is the room you share with him. The other him.

He wonders what it feels like to sleep in another person's arms for years. He never knew he could want something like that.

He doesn't sleep that night. Not even a little bit.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Y/N’s POV

Waking up today felt like a dream for you. You closed your eyes relishing in the warmth you expected to be there only to feel cold.

Your eyes snap open. Oh yeah, he’s not here.

They’re not here. And yet they are. They are all inside the manor in their rooms but they are not yours. They are not your boys or husband. They are versions of your kids and best friend.

But that doesn't mean you can be weird to them you scold yourself.

This is weird to them too. This woman they’ve never met in their lives claiming to be their mother and wife. You’d be freaked out too.

Right there in your bed, you swear to at least talk to your kids. Even though they are not your kids you could never not love any version of them. Getting ready for the day you walk downstairs to see them all inside the kitchen.

Immediately all their eyes draw to you and you smile at them softly. “Good Morning,” you say to them all, failing to catch Bruce’s eyes. You hear soft greetings back while getting your coffee ready.

“I’ve warmed up the car for you Miss Y/N” you hear Alfred say.

“Oh thank you! I'll be leaving in a few,” you reply back gratefully. You never wake up early enough to do it yourself. Bruce usually does it for you during the cold months.

“Where are you going?” you hear five different voices say all at once. You turn around to see them all looking expectantly at you.

Shocked that they’ve said more than three words to you. It takes you a while to reply.

“Oh, I um I'm going to work in early today, I'm an architect.” The silence and surprise in their eyes is kind of insulting. They must notice you take offense because Dick hurriedly tries to explain their shock.

“Not in an offensive way course. You seem very smart. It’s just being an architect in Gotham City. How do you find work?" he asks.

“Oh well, I usually deal with orphanages and hospitals in the city. And because it’s Gotham those are the most important buildings,” you say with a sad like chuckle.

“so you are not a vigilante?” Damian suddenly asks. The question receives looks from his brothers and father but a laugh just escapes you.

“Oh god no, the only vigilante work I do is cardio and that is enough in itself,” you say with a smart smile. They all give chuckles probably humoring you. Before you're hit with the reminder of leaving for your job

“Shoot it’s seven! I- I gotta go but call if you need anything and.. and if you guys find anything out.” You look to see them all give you a nod and bid you goodbye before you are out the door.

Progress? hopefully.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Bruce’s POV

It’s been hours since you left and now he and the kids are at league headquarters trying to get back home. And bring your family home. Even though they may not want to leave. As selfish as it is he wants to stay. Even though he knows he’s not yours he would love to feel an ounce of what it's like to be loved by you.

But because he knows you are deserving of the love back he knows he has to get your Bruce back.

Your Barry has been going on and on about the plan he has to travel through the speed force successfully bringing this universe’s bat family back and then taking Bruce’s back to their universe. Everyone crowds around to see him do it. With his boys at his side, he watches the blinding red light zoom back and forth before eventually disappearing.

His family, the league members, and himself wait silently staring out waiting for Barry to come back. To come back with their lucky counterparts.

Bruce holds his breath when he sees Barry coming back and releases it when he sees Barry....with your family. He sees the exact version of his family all release breaths of relief and immediately look for someone.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out who they are looking for.

Finally, it seems like they spot Bruce and his kids cause they all simultaneously tense up and guard their expressions. It’s staggering how alike they both look at that moment but they both know only one of them has you.

That’s what makes them different.

They all silently watch your family embrace their friends in the league before they walk to Bruce and his children.

It’s that awkward silence again before your Bruce speaks to him.

“How is she?” Three simple words that will stick with Bruce forever.

“She’s okay. The last time we saw her she was just leaving for work.”

Your Bruce just gives him a nod and walks off. Telling his sons he’ll be waiting in the car. Bruce imagines he’s antsy to see you. He would want to speed home if he knew he had someone like you waiting for him.

He’s about to walk back to your Barry to finally go home when your Damian speaks up, “You imbeciles better not have caused any heartache to my mother. Or I will personally ask Allen to take me ba-”

“OKAY! That’s enough of you Damian. Go wait in the car with Dad.” Dick says with his hand pointed to the black car.

“But I wa-”

“Go.” This time it’s Jason and Tim telling him and Damian just rolls his eyes and walks to the car muttering insults under his breath.

Your boys turn back to face Him and his kids, and Dick tries to start up a conversation but it’s too awkward talking to another version of yourself so they bid Bruce and his family goodbye, and they watch them walk to their car. Back home to you.

And once they safely arrive back in their universe it’s weird because they know what they're missing. What they could have had.

You.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Y/N’s POV

Walking into your home your not expecting to be bombarded with hugs.

Not. At. All.

Still expecting for the other version of your family to be home or in the cave.

But you feel multiple familiar arms wrap around your waist and shoulders and you instantly know they’re home.

You almost cry out of relief when they all scream ‘MOM!’ and squeeze you extra tight.

“AHHH my baby birds! I missed you!” You squeal out wrapping your arms (or trying to) all around your boys, kissing them all over their faces, and smothering them in your arms. You feel them loosen up and get a good look at all their faces and the tears start building in your eyes. Gods, you missed them so much. The horrible thought of never seeing them again had you going throughout your day feeling horrible.

You caress the cheeks and kiss all their forehead until they're begging you to stop. and trying to escape. You look down to see Damian still cuddled up to your side and almost melt, you kiss him on the head once more.

You hear all your kids talking at once trying to listen when you see him behind them. You smile with tears running down your cheeks and your kids part away from you and you run toward your husband, crying into his chest and hugging him with all your might. You feel your Bruce instantly wrap his arms tight around your waist and tuck his head into your neck.

“I- I missed you... I missed you so much. So much” you say through tears.

“I know sweetheart. Me too. Me too.” You hear him whisper into your neck and pull his face back.

You look up to see him analyzing every aspect of your face, looking at you like you’re not real.

You instantly wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him and it finally hits you that they are home. That he’s home.

And you can finally breathe again.

BROOO I definitely got carried away lol. AHHH BUT I LOVE IT SO WHO CARES! I've had this in my drafts for months and I'm so excited to finally be posting it. I hope you all ENJOYED! LOVE YOU LOTS! Feedback is always appreciated!! <333

#dceu universe #batfamily #bruce wayne #dceu fanfiction #bruce wayne x reader #batmom x dick grayson #batmom x tim drake #batmom x damian wayne #batmom x jason todd #sadbat dad #dceu oneshot #dceu x reader #batfamily angst #architect!y/n

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amphibiahawks321 · 1 month

Text

Harley Quinn : is it just me or does Y/N's ass lookin more fine today?

Deadshot : Groans first, why are you saying that to me of all people Second, have you ever tried not to be open minded....

Harley Quinn : Ha! yeah no!

Harley Quinn : HEY Y/N!

[Y/N heard Harley called]'

M!Reader : ???

Harley Quinn : Your ass lookin mighty fine today!

[Deadshot facepalm]'

M!Reader : ......

M!Reader blushing : What-

#male reader #dc x reader #reader x dcu #reader x dc #dcu x reader #reader x harley #harley x reader #harley quinn x reader #reader x harley quinn #harley quinn #dc #dcu #dceu #dceu x reader #reader x dceu

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ambcass · 7 months

Text

ᴊᴀɪᴍᴇ ʀᴇʏᴇꜱ x ɴᴇʀᴅʏ ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴠᴇʀᴛ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ)

༊ He always makes sure to include you in things that he knows that you like.

༊ Jaime loves when you talk about your nerdy shit to him. He feels so happy to know that you're comfortable talking to him about your interests

༊ When he has the money (bc yk bros broke asf...) he'll try to buy you merch from your favorite fandom.

༊He encourages you to go out with him because he knows that you have a hard time leaving the house.

༊ He is always by your side when you guys are going out. Whether his hands are on your waist or just simply holding your hand, he is always with you.

༊ Jaime was surprised that you already knew that he was Blue Beetle. You just said that it explained him talking to himself and how he got to your house really...really fast. (#readerpulledatimdrake)

༊ Daily texts or a must!! Jaime always wants to check how you're doing and can't go one day without it. It may be annoying but you're glad there's someone that checks up on you.

༊After an argument, you tend to ignore him for a long period of time but when you do want to talk to him, sometimes he thinks it's a good idea to ignore you... "Jaime, uh- can we talk? Please?" "Reader? Oh uhm...I'm busy right now. Sorry" Sooner or later, Brenda knocks the sense into him (literally KNOCKS the sense into him) and asks him to talk it out with you

༊ Jaime bought you a nerdy hoodie of your favorite fandom and you couldn't start geeking out. He thought it was so cute that you were jumping up and down and shit while wearing the hoodie

༊ You tried introducing him to your favorite fandoms but he had so many questions that you got too tired answering.

༊ He tried using one of a phrase that you'll only get if we're in a specific fandom but he used it in a way he shouldn't have... You looked at him weirdly and he was so confused why you looked at him weirdly.

a/n: I'll write that headcanon thing next week or smth :3

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super-marvel-dc · 4 months

Text

Jason, to Y/N: Open your mouth.

Y/N: Mm-mm.

Jason: Open your mouth now and show me what you have.

Y/N: *Shakes their head no.*

Jason: Y/N-

Dick, walking into the room: Hey, what's up! *Smacks Y/N's back in greeting.*

Y/N: *Chokes, and glitter flies everywhere.*

Jason, and Dick: *Looking at Y/N in shock and fear.*

Y/N: *Grins innocently with glitter all over their clothes and mouth.*

Y/N: Tim bet me 50 bucks...

Jason, and Dick: TIM!!

#wrote this because i had the urge to stuff glitter in my mouth...#jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd #red hood x reader #red hood x y/n #red hood x you #red hood #tim drake #red robin #incorrect dc quotes #dc incorrect quotes #incorrect qoutes #dceu #dc

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r4ins · 6 months

Note

would you pls do Jason Todd x male reader? 😫Thank you!! 😆

Jason Todd x Top Male Reader

bottom jason todd

cw. lots of smut

Jason never hated Y/N more than when the man was inside him. Sure, Y/N was an asshole at the best of times, and Jason couldn’t wait until the moment he tore him down and his whole stupid empire with him, but when Y/N had him bent over and panting, a side of the older man came out that Jason absolutely despised. Unfortunately, his body had a different reaction to this Y/N.

“That’s it sweetheart, tighten up this hole for me like a good little bitch” Y/N crooned sickly sweet behind him.

“Nngh, fuck off” Jason responded, grinding his burning face into the cool wood of Y/N’s desk. He hated that Y/N could get him this worked up from just a few fingers.

“The big, scary Red Hood” Y/Nchuckled “well look at you now, whore.”

Jason blinked overwhelmed tears out of his eyes, yeah, the asshole had a point. He was sure he cut a pretty pathetic figure, bent at the waist over Y/N’s large mahogany desk, hands pinned behind him by his own zip-ties, jerking up onto his toes at every thrust of Y/N’s gloved hand into his slick hole, and whining softly the whole time. He couldn’t see Y/N, but he could imagine the smugness in his eyes as he sat in his huge office chair behind Jason, sipping a glass of whiskey in one hand whilst the other relentlessly abused his ass.

Jason wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he bratted his way right past Y/N’s warning glare and found himself manhandled onto the ground and bound up. Y/N had moved him to the desk only after choking him out against the floor and growling into his ear about being put in his place and getting what was coming to him. Since then, satisfied by Jason’s submission as his lax body was shoved over the desk, he had been lazily grinding his black leather gloved fingers into the boy’s prostate.

“Give it up, boy, it’s your own time you’re wasting” It was the amused patronising tone that got to him the most, made him want to fight tooth and nail and to bear his neck in surrender at the same time “C’mon Jay, let out that needy little slut we both know you are deep down.”

“Shut -uhn- up, you-” Jason grunted out. He was so tense he could feel the zip ties cutting into his wrists, could feel every pant of hot air into the space between his face and the wood, could feel each miniscule movement of Y/N’s hand.

Y/N hummed in amusement, pulling his hand out and wiping it on Jason’s asscheek like the boy was nothing more than a dirty rag. Jason let out a sob at the treatment, only to choke on air as he felt both of Y/N’s hands grab his cheeks and pull them apart. It was something about the exposure, or the hot stab of the objectification that finally made him break down.

“Daddy, daddy, pl-please” he whined. He could barely recognise his own voice.

“Ah, there we are, sweetheart. There’s my good boy” Y/N pulled away for a second, chucked softly at Jason’s heartbroken sob at the sudden loss of sensation.

Jason was limp as Y/N pulled him up by his bound hands and turned him until he was standing on shaking legs, still caught up in his own pants, and facing the older man.

Y/N shushed him softly, reaching out place his hands on the boy’s trembling hips and staring into his cloudy eyes. Without dropping the eye contact, Y/N lifted one foot and stepped down on the pants bunched around his legs until they slid down his legs to the floor. Bolstered by the hands on his hips, Jason stepped out of the pants and followed the urging of those gloved palms until he was settled in his lap, hands still tied behind him, wet eyes wide and desperate.

“Hey there, pretty boy” Y/N lifted a hand and took Jason’s chin between his fingers, moving his face this way and that to admire the pink flush.

Jason, unable to turn his face away, scrunched his eyes closed as he blushed fiercely, for a moment hating how much Y/N’s words turned him to putty. “Daddy, please, daddy”

“Shh now precious, don’t you worry your cute little head at all, hmm?” Y/N shook Jason’s face like a puppy until the boy opened his eyes to look up at him blearily, “Daddy’s gonna take care of you baby.”

Jason hated him, he hated him so much. He hated him even more for the way that his words made the tears collecting in his lashes fall down over his cheeks towards his trembling lips. The humiliation made his stomach roll, but also made his still hard dick throb painfully.

“Do you want Daddy’s cock, baby-slut?” Y/N asked, still in that sickly sweet voice that Jason hated so much.

No, no. “Y-yes daddy, please daddy. Baby wants it, please.”

“Good boy” Jason couldn’t help the shudder that ran through his body at the praise, “Get Daddy out, baby.”

Jason stared at him in confusion for a second, flexing his hands against their bonds. When Y/N didn’t move, just kept staring at him expectantly, Jason tentatively lifted himself on shaky thighs high enough so that he could reach down below himself to try to get his hands on Y/N’s fly. The movement twisted his body, shoving his chest up towards Y/N’s face wantonly, and Jason despaired as he felt the flush spread down his neck almost to his nipples, standing in needy peaks directly in front of Y/N smug face.

Y/N leaned forward, ghosting breath over one of Jason’s ample pecs, and waited until the boy had the zipper of his pants halfway down before sealing his mouth over one nipple and biting down.

The noise that tore its way out of Jason was halfway between a shout and a sob, and he felt his fingers lose their grip on Y/N pants. Y/N didn’t let up, sucking a deep bruise around the nipple, and Jason forced his clumsy fingers to find their grip again.

Y/N only released his chest when I felt cool air on his cock, freed from his pants and standing to attention between Jason’s taught, trembling thighs.

Even though he couldn’t see Y/N cock, Jason found his mouth flooding with saliva from just the feel of it and the knowledge that he was soon going to be filled. He experienced a brief second of clarity from just the horror that Y/N had so effectively trained his body to respond to him.

The clarity was chased away, however, when Y/N got a hard, bruising grip on his hips and used it to manhandle Jason’s body down onto his dick. Jason threw his head back and wailed as he felt the intrusion carve its way into his body. Despite the torturous amount of prep, Y/N still and always did feel huge when he was buried inside him like this.

“Fuck yes, that’s good” Y/N groaned, holding Jason’s body down on him for an interminable moment, “you were made for this, baby, body just made to take cock.”

Jason wanted to rip the guy’s head off for saying that, but instead he made a soft, keening noise of need and shifted in Y/N’s lap.

“Fine then, you needy whore, take what you want” Y/N growled, letting go of Jason’s hips and slapping harshly at his ass when he didn’t start moving quick enough.

Shocked by the sudden crack, and the pain that only stoked the fire that was his arousal, Jason quickly lifted himself up using just his legs until barely the tip of Y/N’s cock was still buried inside him. After taking a second to feel the rush of anticipation, he slammed himself back down, crying out at the feeling.

He was so caught up in the feeling of riding Y/N, filling that ache inside himself that only ever seemed to be assuaged by Y/N’s cock and filthy words, that he didn’t notice Y/N reaching over until his hand was clamping over Jason’s cock. He wailed at the stimulation, rutting into the tight grip desperately whilst still bouncing on Y/N’s lap as much as he could.

Y/N didn’t exactly jack him off, more held his hand tight and still whilst Jason adjusted his movement to push into Y/N’s hand when he lifted up off his dick. When he took a second from the bright, hot, overwhelming arousal to look down at the other man mid-bounce, he felt a lance of humiliated heat through his body at the cold, unaffected way that Y/N was watching him shamelessly writhe on his lap.

That one second of feeling so needy and pathetic, combined with the harsh grip on his dick and the relentless assault on his prostate, was all he needed to finally fall over the edge. He screamed, head thrown back, as he painted his stomach and Y/N’s lap with cum. He arched, tense with the aftershocks for a second before falling, completely limp, over Y/N.

He felt more than heard the rumbled growl of satisfaction that Y/N let out as Jason came. Before he had an opportunity to recover, he was being hefted up with Y/N’s dick still inside him and deposited sprawling over Y/N’s desk.

“My turn” Y/N lifted Jason’s legs by the calves until the boy was basically bent in half and started jackhammering into his body, still shaking with the aftershocks of the boy’s orgasm.

Jason wept from the overstimulation; high, breathless noises punched out of him with every thrust. IF he had any agency over his own limbs he was be desperately trying to get away from the aggressive assault on his overworked prostate and sore hole. But as it was, he lay there in Y/N’s grip, completely unable to do anything but cry and whine and shake.

“Da-daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy” he didn’t know when he had started talking, didn’t know why he could only say that one thing. His mind was growing cloudier as his face got wetter, and he could hear his own voice become more and more incomprehensible as Y/N continued to ruthlessly fuck his lax body.

“da- duh- da- .. unhh” the whole world narrowed down to just Y/N’s hands and cock and cruel voice.

“What’s that babydoll? I don’t think you’re making any sense.” He felt fingers, still wrapped in those leather gloves, force their way between his lips and deep into his mouth, and all he could do was gurgle and drool around them.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” Y/N asked in a voice like one you would use to talk to a child or a particularly stupid pet, “That whore mouth should always be filled up, huh baby? It’s not like there’s any better use for it.”

Jason felt a trail of saliva drip down the side of his face as his eyes rolled back. At this point his cock had managed to fill back out and throbbed, red and heavy against his already cum-stained abs. Y/N showed no sign of slowing down, the slapping of his hips into Jason’s ass surely turning his cheeks as red as his face.

“Love you like this,” Y/N continued, seemingly unbothered by the way Jason was choking and gurgling around his fingers, “fucked dumb, nothing left in that pretty little head of yours. I should keep you like this all the time, baby. I don’t know what little whores need brains for anyway. Just keep you tied up and stuffed full, filthy with my cum, so you know your fucking place-”

Without warning, Y/N shoved his fingers as deep into Jason’s mouth as he could as he pressed his cock balls deep into his ass and spilled inside him. He stayed there for a second, ignoring the way Jason writhed underneath him, trying to rut his still hard cock up against anything he could reach.

Groaning, Y/N pulled out slowly. He stared at Jason’s wrecked hole, mindless to the way the boy was desperately pleading through the fingers in his mouth. When he saw his own come start to drip out of Jason’s twitching hole he removed his fingers from his mouth to move both hands down to his ass and spread his hole as wide open as he could.

Jason, lost in a haze of pleasure and humiliation and the desperate need to come, could only whine and stare pleadingly at the man above him, feeling stupid and small and pathetic. Y/N looked up for a second, meeting Jason’s teary gaze with cruel eyes before he smirked and purposefully, and slowly enough that Jason could tell what was coming, leaned down and spat directly into Jason’s already ruined hole.

Jason’s second orgasm racked through his body almost painfully. This time he couldn’t even scream, only writhe on the desk in terrible ecstasy.

When he came back to, Y/N was sitting back in his chair, lighting a thick cigar and taking a drag as he looked with satisfaction at the mess he had made of the vigilante. Jason barely needed the pull on his leg to slide boneless to the ground and lean his upper body against Y/N’s leg. He was so exhausted he only blinked sluggishly as Y/N pushed the cigar against his lips and forced him to take a slow drag, all while carding his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair, twirling the white streak around his fingers.

He kept his hand in his hair as he turned his attention to some papers on the desk and began to read through them, largely ignoring the filthy and half naked boy at his feet.

As Jason started to drift off, now on Y/N’s lap, he took a moment to wonder if it was really Y/N he hated or just himself for letting Y/N keep doing this to him. The thought was gone almost as soon as it arrived, lost to a haze of exhausted satisfaction.

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