Rach

ily hozier

[f-ire-y]

FIC REQUESTS; Open! Please send them as asks! :)

I will do any request that is NOT something on this list: Smut, Incest, Pedophilia, Yandere, Super heavy violence/gore (angst is perfectly acceptable and welcome and can include this to some extent), any Damian Wayne ship (platonic/Batfam related stuff is ok!).

I'm happy to do continuations for drabbles I've already written if you want to see more, or entirely new stuff if you have other requests (including AUs)! I'm mostly interested in writing for DC characters (Batfam and Batfam adjacent in particular). I'd prefer x reader requests but feel free to submit ships as well.

Current Series (first part linked)

Jason Todd with Breakup Reader here

Pamela Isley with Bar Reader here

Jason Todd with Dancing Reader here

[f-ire-y]

Part 3 here

It took him less than ten minutes to arrive, and when he got there you felt yourself physically relax. It occurred to you that you were going to have to learn how to deal with shit on your own, at some point. But it was late, and you were tired, scared, and sad. Your subconscious must've known he'd never leave you alone like that when you'd called.

You let Jason into your flat without a word, promptly shutting and locking the door behind him. He watched in an alert manner, seemingly taking in your emotional state before he chose what he wanted to say. After you'd finally expelled some of your nervous energy by triple checking each of your door locks, he led you to the kitchen and sat you down.

"How long has it been since you've eaten?" He asked, already opening the freezer to look for something easy. You had no words for how much you appreciated him in that moment.

"I ate right when I got home, so..." You look at the clock, trying to do the math fast enough to answer. But your brain was frazzled, and you never liked math much anyway. He cut you off before you could verbalize the number.

"Pizza ok?" Jason asked, holding up one of the freezer pizzas you'd kept stocked in the fridge. It took everything in you not to laugh at it.

Truth be told, you only got those because he liked them. But it was too late to come clean now, you supposed, so you just nodded and watched as he prepped it for the oven. Before the recent split he'd practically been moved in, meaning you'd been stocking up on things you knew he liked. You wouldn't have to buy them anymore though, and that was the last one. The realization made you sad.

Once he'd gotten dinner into the oven, Jason took a seat next to you at the counter and addressed you, keeping his eyes forward. "Tell me what happened?"

"Yeah, um," taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for the story. That last thing you wanted to do was lose your cool in front of him. It was embarrassing enough that he had to be there in the first place. "It was just- right after I got home. I guess the window was unlocked? And uh-"

"Take a deep breath," he chided, reaching over to hold one of your hands. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"I don't wanna waste your time-"

"No, none of that." Jason sighed, reaching with his free hand to slowly brush some hair from your eyes. He looked almost sad at the expression that action brought from you. "We'll talk later. You're too tense."

At that you nodded, simultaneously relieved and frightened by the suggestion. For now, you just sat and waited for the pizza, trying to pretend you weren't on the verge of a meltdown.

[f-ire-y]

Hey everybody! I ran out of scheduled posts... and I'm currently working on scripting a bigger project right now. So I may not supply you with your daily batfam content until further notice </3

Feel free to request drabbles and things, or continuations of my ongoing series and I will get to them as they come! But for now... not certain about daily uploads.

[f-ire-y]

Harley Quinn was the strangest person you had met in your entire life. So naturally, when she'd sent you an address and a time, you showed up. Who were you to say no?

Whatever you were expecting, it was nothing like what you got.

You started to hear the music about a mile away from the address. The faintest sounds of too loud, too fast boosted bass were all you needed to identify that you were headed to a party. Why Harley was going to a party in an abandoned warehouse at the docks? You had no clue.

The uber dropped you off a little down the road, afraid to be in the area. You didn't blame them, everyone in Gotham knew not to come to the docks. So much shit happens in the warehouses at the docks.

But you had nothing if not the audacity. And boy did you have the audacity.

You strolled right into the warehouse corresponding with the address you were given, and almost immediately regretted it. Within five seconds of entering the building, you spotted a way too high number of Gotham's finest criminals. The Riddler, Poison Ivy, Punchline, even about three different Red Hood copies (who knew where the real one was). The worst thing was that Quinn was nowhere to be seen.

Now that you'd realized your situation, it wasn't like you could just casually ask around. You may be in a situationship with a villain, but you weren't a criminal in any way (besides maybe as an accessory). What exactly had you gotten yourself into with this?

You were saved when someone (who you definitely didn't recognize) approached and grabbed your arm. Over the music, you thought you heard them say something about Harley, so you obediently followed their lead.

He brought you to a separate room, away from the rest of the party, where Harley sat at what looked to be her own private bar. She turned at the sound of the door opening, eyes lighting up when she saw it was you walking in.

"Hey Babes, like the party?" She crossed the room to pull you over to where she'd made herself comfortable, wordlessly telling the bartender to make you a drink once you'd sat down. Apparently, she'd briefed them on your tastes, because they somehow knew exactly what you wanted without you saying a word.

"I have to admit I'm a little scared for my life," you breathed out a laugh, glad to be out of the crowd of supervillains. You loved a warehouse party as much as the next guy, but you typically preferred yours to be murderer free. Besides your murderer of course, Harley is always invited to your hypothetical warehouse parties.

"Don't be! This is a celebration," Harley beamed at you, holding her glass out and lightly clinking against yours in a celebratory manner. "We've gotta one night only treaty, for a very special occasion."

"And that would be...?" You allowed a smile to appear on your face, her infectious energy finally breaking you our of your nervousness.

"They finally got J locked up! They threw him right into supermax, and the grapevine is thinkin' it'll last this time." She continued to beam at you before turning to slam a shot.

Of course this was a good riddance party. This is the exact level of petty you'd expect from her, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't love her for it.

[f-ire-y]

part one here

"So you're telling me that you hooked up with the target?" Barbara drawled as her hand moved up to rest on her temple. Sometimes she really did hate her job.

Jason, on the other hand, was just starting to love his job before he walked into this lecture. How was he supposed to know that the stunningly gorgeous person he walked up to in the club was the exact same person he was tasked with finding information on? He wasn't given a description, and it was dark in the club. This situation was, in his eyes, somebody else's fault entirely. "We just hung out Babs, I did not hook up with them. I don't see the big deal here."

"The big deal here is that you compromised your cover, genius!" She scolded, looking back up at Jason who was just then removing his cowl. "You took them back to your apartment. Your real, civilian apartment under the name of Jason Todd. We don't know if this person is dangerous, but I bet they know exactly who you are now! I mean, honestly-"

"Look, whatever, okay? I'll fix it." And he turned to do just that. He was gonna go track you down again and turn this whole situation around. Anything to avoid the second lecture he knew was coming as soon a Bruce heard about the mess he'd made.

Here was the plan; Head back to the same club from last night. If you're there, approach you again. When you guys go back to his apartment again, he'd grill you. If you're not there, rinse and repeat until it works out. If you never show up? Problem solved either way.

What he wasn't expecting at the time of conception for his master plan, was that you were there, you were stunning, and you were casually holding someone at knifepoint right at your table. Not only that, you were sitting there smiling about it.

He'd be lying if he said it wasn't just the slightest bit attractive.

Jason coming up behind you gave the guy who's life you were presumably threatening just the chance he needed to slink away. You didn't bother chasing after him, preferring to just send a disappointed glance in the direction of whoever it was that interrupted.

But when your eyes land on Jason, your entire demeanor change. The sweet smile he was so entranced by the night before was back in full force.

"Well look who it is." You leaned toward him, the kind smile turning into something a little sharper. "I was hoping to see you again."

[f-ire-y]

Being with Bruce Wayne was a feat. He was a player, a ladies man who never knew how to quit. The moment he set his mind to something he'd stop at nothing until he'd accomplished it. He was stubborn, arrogant, and yet somehow still a charming bachelor to the public.

Of course, you were one of the few people who knew that was fake. The persona he put on to keep the tabloids fed was nothing compared to your Bruce. The Bruce who drove an hour through the snow to see you just because you'd asked him to come. The Bruce who made you breakfast all by himself (despite Alfred's protests) early on Sunday mornings, after you'd stayed over the night prior.

You loved Bruce Wayne. Even if the tabloids would never stop slamming the two of you, and the public would never stay entirely out of your business. You loved him, a lot, no matter how hard it was. You wouldn't trade him for the world.

But you can't be with Bruce Wayne without being with Batman. And nothing can really compare to that.

The worries that come with dating a vigilante are numerous. You couldn't keep track of the weeks worth of nights you'd waited up for him, biting your nails and saying a silent prayer that he'd make it home this time. Asking anyone who'd listen to send him home safe.

Every time you woke up to him stumbling into the batcave, battered and bruised but victorious, it shaved about a year from your lifespan. Every stitch you'd been forced to give to him, Bruce Wayne's stubborn ways seeping through and refusing a doctor, had done the same. You'd probably never stop worrying, you knew that.

But it was more than worth it. The man you loved, regardless of who he was at any given moment, was worth every sleepless night and shitty tabloid takedown piece. And you intended to keep it up. You were going to be there to help him stumble into the elevator in search of first aid. You were going to dress up and go to the galas, even if you hated the frivolity of it all.

You intended to stay as long as he'd have you, because you loved him. You loved him, and you knew he loved you too. And that was enough for you.

[f-ire-y]

Cassandra sat at the top of her favorite building in the city, watching the cars go by far below her. She liked this. Quiet nights, where she didn't have much to do. Most of her siblings would complain about being left out of missions, but not her. It left her time for this, enjoying the sounds of the city she'd grown to love.

There were no distractions up here. No rowdy family to keep her from her thoughts. Cass liked that they could be a happy distraction, but she craved nights like these. They were a time for reflection.

She wasn't fully accustomed to the loud, mildly chaotic environment she had thrown herself into when she'd joined their family. It was overwhelming, sometimes, the difference between her new home and the place she left behind.

But she loved it all the same, more than she could really find the words for at this point. She was determined to one day express how grateful she was in a way that was appropriate to how she felt. For now, though, she was content to just be.

Cassandra enjoyed being an overseer to the constant bickering. She even chimed in occasionally, shocking her siblings with her endless wit. Not once in her life had she felt as happy and safe day to day as she did with these people.

She loved them, and she knew they loved her too. Even if they fought sometimes, at the end of the day, they were all a family. There was no underlying goal, no expectation she had to meet to be considered worthy of them. They were happy to have her around, happy to let her be herself.

That is all Cassandra had ever wanted, but the funny thing is, she didn't know she wanted it so bad until they showed it to her.

[f-ire-y]

Admittedly, you weren't sure what you were agreeing to when Stephanie asked if you wanted to "go for a ride". It was a strange request in and of itself. Steph hated to drive, and that was pretty common knowledge among everyone. So you suppose it was mostly out of morbid curiosity that you agreed.

If you were to go back in time knowing what you know now, you're not sure you would've went along with it.

Currently, you were driving a muscle car that she called "Bondo" while she leaned out the passenger side window, with her cowl on, to yell at Cassandra. Cassandra, also as Batgirl, was running from building to building, hopping between them as fast as she could. You had been enlisted to be a part of their race.

You just knew you were in for so much shit from Bruce, Barbara, and Dick when you three made it home. You'd seen at least four reporters, despite the mostly empty location you'd picked for the race. This was bound to be a PR nightmare. Thank Bruce Wayne for anonymity, right? At least your civilian self was safe.

"Remind me again why we're doing this?!" You yelled, hoping Stephanie could hear you over the blaring sound of Smash Mouth coming from Bondo's speaker.

"Oracle told us to draw attention!" Steph said in a tone that made it seem like she thought she was reminding you of something you already knew. You did not, in fact, have any idea what she was talking about.

"Yeah, I don't think this is what she meant!" You barked, trying to pull Stephanie back into the car with the hand you weren't using to drive. Of course this was yet another gross misinterpretation of directions. After the last few times you'd been brought in to "help", you should've known to ask.

"Are we not distracting?" She retorted, what could only be described as a shit eating grin spread across her face. You pulling her back into the car only gave her the bright idea of opening the sun roof and sitting on the roof of the car as you drove, shouting friendly banter at Cass (who probably could not even hear her).

It was in that moment that you realized you'd be lucky if the lectures you were about to receive didn't take place in Stephanie Brown's hospital room. The chaos of the Batgirls knew no bounds.

[f-ire-y]

Dancing was not exactly Jason Todd's idea of a good past time. So, he wasn't. He was instead people watching, which he considered to be a superior hobby. And he must've been correct, because people watching let him find you.

You, decked out in red with smeared makeup to match, making space for yourself within the crowd of gross, sweaty people. It was all so ungraceful, and yet you seemed to be having the time of your life. You weren't an incredible dancer or anything, but it was so obvious that you were feeling the music and enjoying yourself that it really didn't matter. You were exuding confidence and positivity. It was hot.

After watching for a few minutes in the least creepy way possible, he decided he'd regret it if he didn't talk to you. Was he supposed to be paying attention to something else right now? Yes. But Barbara's voice in his ear was long forgotten by the time he psyched himself up enough to push through the hot cluster of bodies. So what if he had a little bit of fun while he worked? Wasn't he just more undercover if he blended in with the crowd?

When he finally made his way to your little section of the club, he was shocked to find you alone. People like you typically traveled with a gaggle of friends, in his experience. The observation set an air of mystery around you, one that he very much enjoyed. Who was this stranger all by themselves on the dance floor? He intended to find out.

He stood for a moment, doing his best to at least sway to the music so he didn't stick out like a sore thumb. It seemed to take an eternity for you to notice him, but when you finally did it was by far worth the wait.

You smiled at him, slowly stepping forward and reaching for his hands. He could tell you were giving him time to pull away if he wanted, and he appreciated it, but he in no way intended to. So, you took his hands and pulled him into your little world.

Jason knew, in that exact second, that you had him wrapped around your finger. He didn't even know your name, and yet there he was, letting you pull him around and shout sing the words of the song playing to him.

"Pretty baby! You look so heavenly," you yelled, laughing and quite literally twirling him around like he was a princess at a ball. It was times like these that he was glad nobody he knew was there, because he would never ever live this down. But he would rather die for the second time than not be doing exactly that right then.

Meanwhile, in the clocktower, Oracle was listening to Blondie absolutely blaring through Red Hood's ear piece and wishing she had stayed a librarian.

part two here

[f-ire-y]

part 1 here

You didn't call her the next morning when you woke up, and despite the fact you thought about it all day, you didn't call her that night either. It wasn't like you were trying to play hard to get, you just... didn't. And you couldn't decide if it was because you were afraid she wouldn't answer, or because you had no clue what to say if she actually did.

But, lo and behold, when you finally dragged yourself back to the bar she was there. And she looked like she was waiting for you to show up.

"Nice of you to join me," she called out when her eyes locked with yours across the bar. Her voice found a way to cut through all the noise, somehow. "You really like to leave a girl waiting, don't you?"

You approached slowly, more to give yourself time to think of something to say than out of any sort of hesitance. God forbid she think you didn't want to see her. That was the furthest possible thing from the truth that you could fathom.

Even so, when you reach her table the only response you can muster is, "Sorry. I wasn't sure if you wanted me to call."

At that, Pamela laughed and gave you an incredulous glance. She must think you're the biggest idiot in the world. "I left you with my number, did I not?"

"Yeah, but- You know I don't really remember much about that night." Thats the excuse you land on, and it isn't entirely untrue. You made a vow never to drink again the morning after, which was a little extreme but it seemed reasonable in the moment.

"Well, it's alright. I've been taking care of some business these past few days," she sighed, whatever the 'business' was, it had her at the end of her rope. "But now? I'm all yours. So tell me, what have you been doing besides not calling me?"

"Just work, I guess. Nothing as draining as your 'business'," you finger quoted around her choice of words. The teasing tone came at a big surprise both to you and to Pamela. Maybe you were an extrovert after all.

She breathed out a laugh, twirling a straw around in her mostly ignored drink. "Mm, right. You work for Bruce Wayne, right?"

Okay, weird. You must've mentioned that at some point in your conversation the other day. ...Right? "Yeah, its just an administrative position though. Nothing exciting."

"No, I think it sounds delightful," she leaned forward, across the table, a smirk creeping onto her face. "Do share."

[f-ire-y]

It had been a rough day. Tim could always tell by the music that was playing when he approached your room. This was rainy day music for sure. He just couldn't figure out if it was a 'leave me alone' bad day or a 'somebody give me a hug' bad day. No harm in asking, he guessed.

He approached the door, preparing to knock, and listened in for just a second. No tears, that was good. You were just quietly singing along to the music, probably sitting at your desk. He could tell by the audio quality that you weren't playing it off your phone. It had been a while since you'd busted out the record player.

"I'm sorry, so sorry..." You sang to yourself, almost too quiet to pick up. In his mind's eye, he pictured you swaying softly to the tune. He almost didn't want to interrupt, but he had to check.

Knock knock.

"What?"

It was one of those days.

"Just checking in." Tim responded, keeping his tone of voice soft to ensure you couldn't possibly mistake him for being anything but concerned.

"Oh," he heard a shuffle through the door, and waited a few seconds before you arrived and opened it. No red eyes, no tear stains, just a mildly frustrated expression. He could work with that. "Sorry, thought you were Bruce."

Well that explained it. Who else could it be if not Bruce? He had a knack for bothering the shit out of just about everybody. You were certainly not an exception. But as you wordlessly moved out of the way, an invitation for him to come in, he knew that this was a little more than a typical argument with Bruce.

You shut the door and wander back over to your desk chair, shutting off the music in a careful fashion. You did love your records. When you finally sat and seemed at least semi-comfortable, he sat down opposite you on your bed. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," he watched you sigh, slouching down into the plush of the chair. "Just the usual Batman bullshit. I kind of just want to nap it off."

Tim laid back, patting the space next to him and watching as you crawled into it. "Can I tell you about boring company stuff until you fall asleep?"

"Please."

So, thats exactly what he did. And when you finally fell asleep cuddled into his side, he can't help but follow suit.

[f-ire-y]

So there's gonna be more jason x reader story right? You're not just gonna stop there, that isn't fair

here you go anon! this is not the end :)

part 2 here

The natural reaction after a masked villain (if thats what he is?) breaks into your apartment is fear. You felt fear, of course, but you also felt what could only be described as morbid curiosity as to who he was. Did he follow you home that night? He must've, or he wouldn't have known where you lived. So then, why on Earth did he care about you enough to follow you home if it wasn't going to kill you?

You tried to go about the rest of your night normally, and for the most part you did. That is, until the adrenaline slipped away and most of the curiosity was pushed down in exchange for a healthy dose of dread. After you finished locking all the doors and windows, searched the internet for some DIY home security, and basically locked yourself in your room, you only felt a little better.

When you realized you couldn't sleep, your hand reached for your phone. Before you could realize what you were doing and stop, you'd dialed Jason's number.

It rang once, twice, three times. Then he answered.

"I told you not to call, I'm busy." His tone was harsh enough to make you wince at first listen, but he didn't sound angry. Not really, all things considered.

"I'm sorry, I didn't really mean to call." You shivered, pulling your blankets up tighter around yourself. The urge to hang up was strong. "Just- Someone broke into my apartment earlier. I couldn't sleep. So I... yeah."

After a moment of silence, "Are you okay?" is all he replied. He sounded concerned, yes, but there's a level of nonchalance behind it. He sounded as if he already knew. Like when you find your birthday gift early and have to pretend its a surprise when its given to you.

"I think so?" You weren't, not really. You may not feel all that scared anymore but you were shaking, and you felt a little nauseous. There was no way you were getting to sleep anytime soon. "Look, Jay, I'm sorry I called. I didn't really mean to and I promise I respect your-"

"Do you need me there?" He interrupted, cutting through your little mini-panic. When you registered what he said, you nearly melted.

"Yeah," you replied, voice barely above the level of a whisper.

"Gimme ten."

Part 4 here

[f-ire-y]

just finally got to read volume 1 of becky cloonan's batgirls... anyways I love Cassandra Cain and Stephanie Brown and Barbara Gordon and you Will be hearing about it

[f-ire-y]

If they backed out now, they could blame this whole thing on Dick and possibly be spared Damian's wrath. But, considering the fact that Bruce was already decked out in his santa costume and the kid was on his way, it was too late for that.

It had been Dick's idea to begin with. 'Hey guys, lets give Damian the mall santa experience! He'll love it!' Everyone knew he wouldn't love it, including Dick, but it was an indisputable rite of passage for childhood. One that, had it not been for Grayson, Damian could've been spared from.

When Jason opened the door, a small Robin and Alfred (dressed as an elf) in tow behind him, everyone knew that the trouble they were going to be in would be entirely worth it. Stephanie, bless her heart, had been waiting with a camera out to catch his expression the exact second he realized what was going on.

And it was priceless.

"I absolutely will not be participating in this." Damian said, feigning maliciousness and quite literally stomping his foot down. Jason was struggling to swallow a laugh right behind him.

"Come on, Buddy! Tell Santa what you want for Christmas!" Dick goaded, trying to guide Damian over to Bruce (who, by the way, enjoyed this just about as much as Damian did).

"Before you try it, he won't give you weapons. Trust me, I've been asking for years," the leather jacket clad Jason complained. Very festive bunch we had there.

"Go on, D. We need a family Santa picture," the designated photographer of the holiday ordered. Stephanie was practically in tears caused by laughter, making it a real challenge for her to actually set up the camera to take said picture. Lucky for her, Cassandra stepped in to fiddle with it in her place.

"Wait- Family picture?" Jason's smug demeanor turned to horrified as the realization hit him. "I didn't agree to this."

"Go," Cass pointed at Bruce, raising an eyebrow at the bunch. "I'm going to start the timer."

Stephanie was the first to follow the order, sitting on the floor in front of Bruce's chair. She was followed by Tim, who sat at her right, and Alfred, who stood to the left of Bruce's chair. Duke set up shop next to Alfred, and Jason, albeit reluctantly, stood opposite the two. Barbara and Kate (the only two who were actually behaving themselves besides Alfred) found their spots shortly afterward.

That, of course, left Dick to drag Damian over and set him on the arm of Bruce's chair. He, of course, took the other arm.

"Say, 'Cheese'!" Cassandra pressed a button on the camera and ran over to the first open spot she could find.

And that, friends, is how the first Annual Batfamily Christmas Photo was born.

[f-ire-y]

You'd spent hours decorating at this point and you were getting tired. Bruce had promised he'd be home Christmas Eve, and that he'd stay home on Christmas until it was time to patrol. Yet, here you were at 11 PM, drinking eggnog by yourself with no Bruce in sight.

Alfred had offered to stay up with you but you'd told him to go get some rest. He knew better than anyone that it was a gamble whether or not Bruce would actually show up. You wouldn't want to keep him up all night for nothing.

It was just when you were about to give up and go to bed that Bruce appeared in the kitchen, an apologetic look on his face. "You didn't have to wait up for me."

Just seeing his face here before midnight like he promised was enough to fix your entire mood. "You made it!" You exclaimed, jumping up to wrap him in a hug. Reluctantly at first, he reciprocated. "I'm so happy you're here," you mumbled into his shoulder, taking time to appreciate the moment.

Of course, it had to come to an end before too long, because Bruce was painfully confused. "You're not upset with me?"

"You promised me before midnight. It's before midnight. That's all I wanted, Bruce." You say softly, taking a step back to look at him, mindful that your expression conveys just how happy you are that he made it. "Promise I'm not mad. Who gets mad on Christmas anyway? That'd be shitty of me."

"Well, its not Christmas-" He tried to argue, but you quieted him with a kiss.

"It is in about a half hour. I don't want to start it off angry," you chide after your kiss. "What? You want me to be mad?" You're teasing, of course, but Bruce is quick to backtrack.

"I think not. Getting angry is not within the realm of holiday spirit," he teased back, but it was genuine. He wouldn't ever want you to be upset, nor would he do anything with the intention of upsetting you. You knew that.

"Well then, glad we settled that, hm?" You bounced back on your heels and turned, in search of your cell phone.

"What are you up to?" He asked, a mixture of amusement and curiosity seeping into his voice. But all his questions were answered when a slow holiday tune began to play through your speaker.

You turned to face him once again, hand held out in his direction. "Dance with me?"

He took your hand, and that was it. You stood in the kitchen, dancing and laughing until Christmas morning hit. The both of you stayed up well into the night, and Alfred caught you both laughing and (very unsuccessfully) sneaking out of the kitchen when he woke up, like teenagers who just swiped a bottle of tequila from the alcohol cabinet.

[f-ire-y]

You aren't quite sure how you got yourself into this situation. But hey, you're not complaining!

Whatever you were doing to end up warm, cuddled up to the most gorgeous woman you have ever had the pleasure of laying your eyes on, watching the snow fall through the window of your one bedroom apartment, you do not regret it. So what if she's the Joker's ex?

You watch, delighted, as she slowly blinks awake and registers where she is. When you come into her line of sight, her expression brightens into a smile. "Mornin' Sugar," she leans in to place a kiss on your jaw, "Ya come here often?"

"Not often enough, I'm thinking." You reply, running a hand through her hair. If someone had walked up to you a month ago and told you that Harley Quinn has the worst bedhead known to man, you probably would've thought they'd lost it. But fuck if it wasn't adorable.

She breathes out a soft laugh at your reply, but her pleased expression very quickly turns into one of annoyance as you start to untangle yourself from her. "Just-" she lightly presses your shoulder, not letting you get up right away, "where do you think you're going?"

"Harles, I've gotta-"

"Nuh-uh. It's snowin' outside. Whatever you've gotta do can wait." She insists, not leaving much room for argument. As much as you'd really love to listen to her and cuddle back up in bed to watch the snow some more, you're not a super villain with endless funds. And that means you have to go to work.

So, despite all her best efforts to keep you with her in bed, you eventually slip out and head towards the bathroom to start getting ready. It's in her nature to complain, and that she does. Pretty much the whole time. Eventually though, she realizes that you're really not gonna cave.

"I hate to see you leave but I love to watch ya walk away," she snickers, approaching and giving you a hug from behind just before you open the door. "Promise you'll be home early? Who knows what I'll do if you leave me to my own devices!"

"I... will see what I can do." Rather than disagree outright, you remind yourself that she is chaotic and you will come home to who even knows what if she gets bored. "I'll be home before dark for sure."

"Good," she says, pleased with herself, as she leans down to plant a kiss on your neck. "See ya then, Darlin'."

[f-ire-y]

I’d love to see more of the recent fic you posted with Jason ToT I wanna happy ending ;u; Jason you doofus ur perfect no break up with me

i bumped this post up the queue just for you anon :) not exactly a happy ending but... this is not quite the end

part 1 here

Admittedly, Red Hood was well aware he was on autopilot as he headed back to his apartment. It was a shit hole, in a part of Gotham he was more than well acquainted with. Frankly, he only bought the place so he'd have somewhere to go when he needed to get off the streets. Now was one of those times.

What he wasn't aware of was the fact that his autopilot was taking him to your apartment.

He'd met you by accident just after he came back to life. You'd stumbled into a bad situation, and he had enough of his morals intact to know he needed to save you. Since then you'd been attached to him at the hip. And he had loved it.

But he'd fucked it all up. He knew the whole thing was a ticking time bomb. That once he was did what he was aiming to do he would have to break your heart. He hated himself for it, but then again he really didn't intend to get so involved, did he?

Thats what he was thinking about while he broke in through your open window. Only, he didn't know he was breaking and entering until he was met the sight of you, standing mortified in the kitchen with your favorite pajama set on. You looked awful. And he knew it was all thanks to him.

His guilt was only further cemented when you, having registered who exactly was in your apartment, stopped what you were doing and slowly backed yourself into a wall. "I didn't tell anyone. I promise- I didn't even call the police."

What an idiot. You saw a seemingly homicidal maniac and you didn't even call the police? He made a mental note to keep an eye on you as Red Hood, even if Jason couldn't be there to do it anymore.

While he was thinking he wasn't responding, and he could tell it was making you uncomfortable. Why couldn't he have just paid a fucking fraction of attention? He'd done enough, there was no need to further ruin your week.

"If you'd stumbled upon a different crime scene you could've ended up dead. Don't be stupid." With that, he was turning to leave. His words did nothing to quell your curiosity, and he knew that. But he had to at least warn you.

But rather than being concerned for your wellbeing, all you were thinking as he turned away was, 'Why does he care?'

part three here