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Thinking about the concept of eldritch monster/merman Simon following the movie and reader somehow being sent into the blood ocean for whatever reason and Simon latching onto her and protecting her. Is this anything.
A/N - Not a comeback, but I was overwhelmed with feelings and made a very short drabble. Reader is a Deer Woman, but all that's mentioned in this is ears. Yeah, there's more lore for this ship. Have 150+ words.
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It was a shock to the system, but she rushed to him regardless, cupping his cheeks as the ears on the top of her head twitched, forward in alert.
“You’re alive. You’re…” her fingers traced the lines in the burlap that replaced the smooth skin that she’d known before. His blue eyes were dark brown, just as soft as ever, but a jolting shift. His hair was yellow straw, rough where it had once been soft.
“I’m here,” the smile on his lips was apologetic and the slightest bit insecure, a tilt to his lips that she’d seen before and recognized as uncertainty, like she would be disappointed.
Like he wasn’t the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“You’re gorgeous.” She leaned forward, lips brushing his own, the texture another change that would take getting used to, but she didn’t mind it in the slightest. He was here, and he was hers, and he was beautiful.
Been thinking about Logan's weight, specifically his hands.
Since his skeleton is encased in adamantium, he's generally heavy, and I have thoughts about using him as the world's heaviest weighted blanket too, but I just can't get over thoughts about how heavy his hands would be.
Just... the weight of his hand resting on your thigh while he's driving. The weight of his hand on your stomach when you have cramps and he's massaging your tummy. The weight of his hand against your head as he ruffles your hair. The weight of his hand in your own. The weight of his hand against the back of your neck while he pulls you in for a kiss. The weight of his hand against the front of your neck as it rests there while he's kissing you...
A/N: Don't read this if you don't like dark fics! Don't come at me if you don't like the content. Triggers are listed and the only non-"constructive" comments I'll take are about any triggers that need to be added. I said I was gonna post this like... three days ago but I kept going over it again so if I don't post it now I'm not gonna. JUST TAKE THIS! Let me know if I missed any uses of my SI's name when I was editing.
Context Needed: I normally keep the fics I write that are lore-heavy to myself, but since people said they wanted the dark fic… Reader is a rifter, which basically means that she’s capable of traveling dimensions, and is conditionally immortal. Reader goes by Black Robin and is implied to have a suit that shows a lot of skin and to have a flirty persona as a vigilante.
TWs under the cut because there's... a lot.
Light TWs: Self-loathing, reader diminishes her own worth, reader has past trauma with being left behind by people she cares about, Dick is giving reader the silent treatment at the beginning but it’s mostly pre-setting, canon-typical violence/blood mentions. “Good girl” gets used condescendingly.
Heavy TWs: Do NOT read this if you have any triggers related to rape/non-con. Nothing actually happens, but it heavily revolves around reader believing that it's going to. Seriously, don't read this if you don't like whumpy stuff, because you're not gonna like it. My love of whumper to caretaker shows through here. Lots of mentions of trafficking, reader is kidnapped by said traffickers, fear of rape/non-con, Dick is very mean. Like, seriously, he’s very OOC for the majority of this fic. Threats/implications of rape/non-con, inappropriate use of one of his escrima sticks (just in the mouth) reader has a spiral at the end where she’d convinced that Nightwing and Red Hood are going to rape her.
If it’s any consolation, this is technically hurt/comfort, so it isn’t all horrible. Just… most of it. Reader also forgives him far too fast in the end, but I can gladly share some more snippets of how this affects the reader character in the future. I’ve already got ideas for some short scenes that I’m gonna write.
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Nightwing was going to kill her.
He’d been explicitly clear: he didn’t want to see Black Robin out ever again. She’d nearly gotten herself killed, but she knew that wasn’t why he was so angry. He couldn’t have cared less about that, after all, she was a rifter and that meant that she was built to take pain and that death was a moot point. He was angry because she’d risked the mission, nearly let a trafficker that they’d all been hunting for weeks get away because she got too confident for her own good.
She’d snapped back at him when he told her that she wasn’t to wear the suit again, told him that he was just like Batman. That was the wrong thing to say.
He hadn’t talked to her since.
So, maybe she was trying to bait him a little by coming into Blüdhaven in her suit, maybe she was trying to get his attention back because she couldn’t stand being punished with the silent treatment. Maybe this was her fault.
Well, it was definitely her fault, but in her defense, she was thinking with her heart and not her head. She didn’t want to lose him, and in some twisted way, having him level her with lecturing and anger was still better than the radio silence.
She would have been fine. Nightwing would never actually hurt her. That wasn’t what went wrong.
Her suit didn’t have a panic button. It didn’t need one because she was forbidden from going out on her own even before she’d wrecked a mission and been benched. So, when she’d stolen a bike and made her way to Blüdhaven in costume while Bruce was off-world, Tim was with the Titans, Jason was off on a no contact mission, and Alfred was distracted with keeping Damian from abandoning his studies in favor of full-time vigilantism, no one knew where she was going.
She’d even been stupid enough to leave a note saying that she was heading home to visit family, and she wouldn’t be back for a while.
Alfred would have already found the note. Bruce wouldn’t start worrying for at least forty-eight hours with no word.
By then, it might be too late. Too late for her pride and her self-respect at least.
For now, she contented herself with growling and spitting at the traffickers, fighting the urge to be sick over the taste of her own blood soaking the rag in her mouth. She had no chance of picking the locks on the handcuffs, because she’d never gotten the hang of it while Bruce was teaching her, so she didn’t bother fiddling with them, instead preserving her energy.
If no one found her, she’d need her energy if she got the chance to run. They’d have to uncuff her from the chair if they wanted to-
She gulped, pushing down the thought.
Nightwing was going to kill her, but he was also the only chance she had of getting out of this without something worse than torture occurring.
She could see the leering. She could read the expressions. She promised herself that if she got out of this, then she was going to change the layout of her suit. She needed to cover more skin. She needed to flirt less with enemies too, apparently, because the men that had grabbed her had parroted some of her own lines back at her while they gagged her and dragged her back to this warehouse.
It was always warehouses. For once, she wanted to get dragged to a penthouse suite and get threatened and tortured by a classy villain.
Nightwing was going to kill her, but she couldn’t help the way that her chest lurched with relief and happiness upon seeing his form drop to the floor from one of the open skylights.
At once, all of the guns were on him, but, as suspected, he didn’t so much as flinch.
“Here to save your little friend? Awful bold to jump right in the middle of the warehouse full of men with guns, even for you, Nightwing.”
He tilted his head, the clench in his jaw speaking of rage.
She was sure she was saved, because even if he was mad at her and was going to give her a lecture that might have her in tears by the end of it, Nightwing wouldn’t hurt her. Dick wouldn’t hurt her.
“Save her? No. She’s just getting exactly what she asked for.”
Her stomach lurched this time, but it was with fear and a sickly cold feeling that crawled up her throat like it was being swarmed by ants.
Was she wrong? There was no way he would just leave her to her fate. He’d saved genuinely terrible people from situations that weren’t even as bad as the one that she’d found herself in, so there was no way he was going to leave her here, just because they’d had a fight.
Right?
The men’s guns all seemed to lower in the slightest bit, but they didn’t leave his form, “You expect us to believe you’re going to just leave her here? That you just dropped in for a friendly chat?”
“Oh, no. I don’t plan to leave her here. You just saved me the trouble of getting her pinned down is all.” He twirled one of his escrima in his hand, like it was a fidget toy instead of a dangerous weapon. “I appreciate you making my night easier, but I’m going to be taking her off of your hands now.”
So, he was saving her, right? He was contradicting himself, but she didn’t care what he said if he got her out of this.
“Thought you weren’t saving her,” the guns raised back to their full height, the leader scoffed, “you go play hero somewhere else for the night and maybe will give her back when she’s nice and broken in. Might not even charge you the full rate.”
She didn’t like having her suspicions confirmed about what they planned to do with her, but that was fine. She had guessed that, and it didn’t matter anymore, because Nightwing was here and that meant that these idiots were just delaying the inevitable rescue he’d come to pull off.
“Well, I guess you could consider it saving. After all, I might not be quite as into pain as some of your clients are, but you shouldn’t worry, I plan to make good use of her.”
What?
No, no, that wasn’t right. He was not actually implying that he was going to use her exactly how these men planned to. There was no way. He was Nightwing. He was-
They’d been flirting since they’d met, the kind of flirting that made everyone that didn’t know better think they were already an item. Even she knew that he was attracted to her, but… had she really pushed her luck this far? Had she really made him hate her so much that the only way he wanted to make a move on that attraction was like this?
She was having more and more trouble holding back on throwing up the meal she’d had before leaving Gotham.
“Yeah, right. You expect us to believe you want her as a toy?” The leader scoffed.
She wished she was that certain that he was lying about it.
Dick- Nightwing walked forward, still twirling his escrima as he approached her. The men parted for him despite keeping their weapons squarely aimed.
“Who could blame me?”
She could feel his eyes burning into hers even behind his mask. Her own mask was long gone, leaving him an unabated view of her frightened eyes. She was sure there was betrayal there too.
His escrima rested beneath her chin, and she forced her head back, trying to put distance between her skin and the weapon that she knew could easily shock her, “Look how pretty she is when she’s scared.”
She tried to muffle the whine that escaped her throat, but there was no way that he didn’t hear it.
What was going on? This was wrong. Was this- was someone wearing his face?
No, she couldn’t pin it on that, because no one knew about the way he’d yelled at her about never wearing the suit again, and there was no denying that was what he meant when he’d said she was getting what she asked for.
He really did hate her, then. She’d really, really messed up, and now he hated her, and for some reason the sting that knowledge made bite at her heart was worse than the fear at what he planned to do to her.
“And what kind of payment are we getting out of this? We could make hundreds at least by selling a vigilante, especially if we only rent her out. And this one can break over and over again, just to heal back up. She’d a goldmine of opportunities. Why would we just hand her over to you?”
Dick’s—no, no, she couldn’t think of him as anything other than Nightwing, because if she thought of him as Dick, then she was going to breakdown for sure; Dick didn’t hate her, Dick cuddled her during movie nights and carried her to bed when she fell asleep—Nightwing’s jaw ticked with irritation. Apparently, he hadn’t expected them to be so unwilling to give her up just because he wanted her to himself.
Was he waiting for this? Did he know what he was going to do as soon as he’d told her to never put the suit on again? Was he hoping that she would, just so he could use it to justify punishing her like this?
His empty hand trailed up her chest, just barely brushing her shirt, but it was enough to make a jolt go down her spine. He grabbed her jaw, the escrima stick brushing lightly against her cheekbone, “You’re going to let me take her without causing me any more trouble, because otherwise, I’ll be telling the Bat about your outposts in Gotham.”
Angry muttering began among the traffickers, but the leader remained silent, “That’s not much of a payment.” He hummed, like he was considering the offer, but anyone could tell that he already planned to ask for more, “Tell you what, you can take her out of here, no problem. I’m not interested in getting caught by a stray bullet in a firefight, and, honestly, keeping one of the Bat’s things seems like asking for trouble. She didn’t put up much of a fight, so you can walk out with her, after you give us a show.”
She gagged audibly on the rag in her mouth, tears finally escaping her eyes while she put renewed effort into forcing the rag out of her mouth. She wanted to beg and plead and cry. If he was going to do anything to her, at the very least she didn’t want an audience.
For his part, she could see his eyes widen just a fraction behind his mask, but the surprise quickly seemed to settle, and he flashed a smirk to the men that made her feel like she was about to start hyperventilating.
“Fine.”
No, no, no, no, no.
He pulled the gag from her mouth with the hand that had been against her chin, and she instantly opened her mouth to beg, but snapped it shut a millisecond later, her teeth clacking together almost painfully.
His escrima stick was resting against her lips, and his free hand was holding her jaw again, fingers squeezing against her cheeks in an attempt to make her open her mouth, but she wasn’t budging. She wasn’t stupid, and maybe cooperation would make things better in the long run, but she wasn’t letting him put his weapon in her mouth.
“Unless you want this to hurt a lot more later, you should cooperate right now. I’d hate to use this somewhere-“
Her mouth shot open before he could finish, fast enough that her jaw popped.
Okay, so she was letting him put his weapon in her mouth. She’d take the loss.
“Good girl.”
She hated that the praise stroked something in her, making her heart flutter even while he shoved the escrima stick past her lips and far enough into her mouth to hit her throat and make her gag.
Blood. Steel. An iron tang that made her brain go blank for long enough that she missed what he said next.
He didn’t appreciate that.
“Am I boring you?” He growled the words as his free hand tangled in her hair and pulled her head forward, making the escrima stick hit the back of her throat again with what was almost a bruising force. “I asked if you were going to behave, or if I was going to need to make you deepthroat this while it was on, but I guess I have my answer.”
Cold terror battered against her ribcage in place of her heart. All that was left in her chest was a black hole of absolute horror and fear that could hardly classify as a heart.
She didn’t realize that the sobbing in her ears was her own at first, too far into her own head and too tense while waiting for him to flick the switch to make this humiliation painful to know what was going on around her.
She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t breathe!
And suddenly everything around her stopped and went deathly silent before gunfire began and the yelling of the traffickers became frantic and chaotic. The only words she picked up were “it’s the Hood!” and what normally would have made her think she was saved only made her panic more, because if Nightwing—the one that had held her while she cried and always agreed to musicals just because he knew she loved them—was going to use her as a toy, than that meant that Red Hood would too. She was sure he hated her too. She’d thought the way they bantered was fun and games, but she’d also thought that Nightwing cared about her and clearly, she was wrong about that. Nightwing had probably called him here so he could take out the frustration he had with her on her.
And then they’d tell Batman that they’d found evidence that she’d been trafficked and then they’d keep her locked up somewhere and- and- and- and- she couldn’t-
“Breathe.” A familiar hand fanned across her cheek, fingers brushing away tears that were immediately replaced with more, “Breathe for me, bird. It’s alright. It’s okay.”
She couldn’t. She couldn’t catch her breath, but the escrima stick wasn’t between her teeth anymore, so she could beg now. She could plead and promise to behave and maybe if she asked nice enough and they believed her then they’d let her go after they were done with her instead of keeping her.
“Please, please, I’m- I’m sorry, I-I’ll never wear the suit again, I promise. I promise. I’ll be good. I won’t fight, I’ll-“
“Hey, hey, stop.” He pressed his hand against her mouth, not hard enough to force her to be quiet or to muffle her voice if she did continue to beg, but she silenced herself instantly regardless. “You’re okay, bird. Just breathe. I’d never hurt you. Never. There wasn’t a way to warn you about what was going on without cluing them in. I’m so sorry, bird. I really am.”
He sounded like he was about to cry, and the way he was holding her face in his hands certainly didn’t give her the idea that he was going to hurt her or force her down to her knees so he could-
“I could think of a hundred better ways to have gone about that, ‘wing.” Hood’s voice made her flinch and sink farther down in the chair she was tied to. She didn’t even move her legs or arms when he’d gotten the cuffs undone.
“I needed to distract them so you could get the files and I’m still injured. I wouldn’t even be out tonight if you hadn’t told me that they’d gotten their hands on her. If I’d tried to fight them, then they would have taken me out before finding you, so I don’t want to hear it. Don’t act like I wanted to do or say any of that.”
That was… fair. It wasn’t fair to her, but she had gotten herself into this situation and- she would forgive everything if it meant that he wasn’t going to hurt her. Actually, she’d let him hurt her if it meant that he wasn’t going to use her.
“Dick?” She whined out his name like a kicked puppy, tilting her face against one of his hands in a placating gesture.
“Yeah, bird. I’m here. It’s me. That wasn’t real. None of it was real, and you’re safe now. No one is going to hurt you, especially not me.”
Another sob tore from her throat, and she threw herself forward, into his arms. She was trembling and sobbing harder than he’d ever heard, and she was almost positive it was harder than she ever had in her life. His form wrapped around her, tucking her against his chest as he pressed his face against the top of her head and placed comforting kisses.
Jason sat on the ground behind her, one of his hands running circles against her back in an effort to assist in calming her, and it worked.
After her sobbing began to slow, Dick spoke up hesitantly, “I thought you would know. I never meant- I thought you would know that it wasn’t real. I thought you knew I’d never hurt you.” His breaths shuddered, “I thought you knew that I love you.”
“But you- you were mad at me. You told me- told me I could never wear the suit again and- and then you didn’t talk to me all week and I thought- I thought you hated me. And- and I came here to get your attention because you were ignoring me, so- so I would have deserved-“
“Hey, no. Don’t even finish that sentence.” His hold on her tightened and his voice turned even more tense, edged with anger, “No one deserves to be taken advantage of and you know that.”
She sniffled, tucking her face tight against his neck, and breathing in the scent of his suit and sweat. “You said you love me.”
There was a long pause, and Jason took it as his cue to leave, ruffling [Name]’s hair as he stood and headed out of the warehouse. He landed a boot against the ribcage of the leader of the traffickers as he passed by.
“I’m going to alert Blüdhaven PD. Half of their guys are probably on this group’s payroll though, so I’d get out of here before they show up. They’re probably hoping whoever shut down this location sticks around so they can fill them with lead.”
“We’re headed out now.” Dick stood as he said it, taking [Name] with him as she wrapped her arms around his neck and clung onto him.
“You said you love me.”
“I did,” he finally confirmed, “but I don’t think now is the time to talk about-“
“I love you too. So much.”
He went quiet again, feet still carrying them away from the nightmare that she’d just gone through, “I don’t expect you to forgive me for that.”
She tightened her hold around him, burrowing against him as a sign that she wasn’t holding any grudges, but also in an attempt to hide from the could Blüdhaven night.
“I knew you were after them. I shouldn’t have stuck my nose in it. I just… I wanted you to talk to me again. Even if you were angry. I… I don’t handle the silent treatment well and… it felt like you were leaving me behind, just like everyone else always does. It felt like you had decided I wasn’t worth the trouble anymore.”
“Never. I’ll never leave you behind, okay? I know that me saying that isn’t going to make you stop thinking that I might, but I’ll prove it, alright? I’ll never leave you behind.” He brushed his lips against her neck, and she couldn’t fight the light laugh that escaped as the gentle touch tickled her skin.
“Okay. I, uh, just… one thing though.”
“Anything.”
“Please keep the escrima sticks away from me for a while?”
She could feel him cringe, but he nodded, “Yeah. That’s fair.”
I'm sorry but the absolute chokehold he has on me right now!? I am craving some fics with this man lord help me! please someone give him the happy ending he deserves ugh
Prompt: "I feel safe when you wrap your wings around me."
A/N: Super short and super fluffy. I feel like every Dick fic I write just makes it so obvious how much of a simp I am for him. I literally love him. It's a problem.
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“Hey, Blue.” [Name]'s face was lined with exhaustion, a lazy smile not serving to cover the strain in her tone.
There was a moment of consideration on his part, his wings stretching open behind him like they’d made the decision before he himself had.
“C’mere.” She complied instantly, always eager to be near him.
The second she was in his reach, his wings enveloped her, warm and safe in a way that nothing else could be. The warmth of such an intimate gesture sunk deep into her soul. It was so natural a movement, so embedded in him that he made it seem effortless, yet it meant the world to her.
“I adore you.”
He hummed in response to the statement, wings tightening around her. “The feeling’s mutual, baby bird.”
His feathers tickled against her neck, but she didn’t dare say anything about it in fear he’d pull them away. “I feel safe when you wrap your wings around me. Like nothing can hurt me.”
Inexplicably, his wings managed to tighten farther. “I love you.”
Her arms tightened around his waist, “I love you, too. So much.”
Summary: Jealous Werewolf fluff. I will not apologize. Fluff.
A/N: I have... a lot of were-animal ocs so I think writing stuff like this is so fun. The parcel bomb reference is toward how Dick and S/O met in most of my Dick fics. Roy only got dragged into this because he was the first person that came to mind after Oliver.
I might have started more WIPs instead of finishing old ones but... I went off the deep end with my Dick hyperfixation.
C/W: Jealousy, territorial and possessive Dick, but not necessarily in a toxic way. Protective Damian makes an appearance.
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The pack tended to be closeknit. It was expected of packs, so the curiosity of a new person wearing the scent of the Waynes was fair. Even more so when the person wearing the scent was a human.
The scent overwhelming the rest of the family’s was Dick Grayson’s—noticeably sweeter and less sharp than the rest of the pack’s tended to be—which drew its own attention from the attendees of the gala. A couple of the women sent her scathing looks, but she choose to ignore them. Dick and the rest of the family had all given her fair warning that some of the attendants might be annoyed over a human taking one of their own off of the market.
Dick’s scent and the fact that she was a human didn’t deter some of the men’s attention being placed on her. She ignored it just as totally as she ignored the glares, far more interested in keeping her head down and not making a scene that Bruce would need to smooth over.
Damian was hovering at her hip, flashing warning looks at anyone who came too close or stared for too long. Wolves weren’t any more dangerous than the humans of Gotham generally, but he remained vigilant regardless. Besides, wolves did tend to be territorial over their pack members, especially if it was a human being welcomed among them.
“The bodyguard act seems a little unnecessary, Dami.”
Said boy huffed in response, “You can’t be allowed to roam unattended in this den of wolves.”
“Well, I walk around the manor all the time without an escort.”
“Hey, that’s a little rude, bird.” Dick’s chin rested against her shoulder as he appeared, apparently finished with meeting his socializing quota of the night. She could practically feel the glares of the women that he’d left behind to return to her side.
“You’re literally wolves. It’s in the title.” She teased him as he tilted his head to take a not-so-subtle sniff at her neck. She didn’t acknowledge the affection until he began to nuzzle against her. “Are you seriously marking me right now? Didn’t you do a good enough job before we got here? You were doing this exact thing for thirty minutes straight.”
“A little extra never hurts. Besides, you’re starting to pick up on other packs’ scents.”
“You’re one to talk. I can practically smell the perfume of all those girls clinging onto you and I’m not even a wolf.”
“I don’t like how people are looking at you.” He mumbled the words with his face still tucked against her neck, being bold enough to nip at her pulse lightly.
She bit back a surprised squeak at the bite, “Yeah, well, I don’t like how they’re looking at you either. At least the ones staring at me have an excuse. I’m the only human here, of course they’re staring.”
Before Dick could reply, a familiar voice caught their attention, “Hey, [Name]!”
She perked up instantly, while Dick grumbled something under his breath before pulling away from her neck and standing straight. His arm wrapped around her shoulders possessively, but there was nothing unusual about that.
“Hey! What’re you doing here, Roy?”
Dick didn’t give him a chance to answer, “I didn’t know Bruce invited Ollie.”
Roy’s eyes narrowed slightly, and she had the distinct impression that there was some kind of wolfy interaction occurring beneath the two’s words. “He did, but Jason actually invited me.”
Dick huffed, the sound an obvious inclination that he was annoyed. “I didn’t know you knew [Name].”
“Met her through Jason. I didn’t know that you two were mates.”
Dick fixed the other male with a glare, teeth clenching and eyes narrowing like he’d said something offensive. [Name] had never seen him take a stance like he did now, back straight as a rod and shoulders squared to make himself bigger. If she hadn’t been so close to both of the men, she might have been worried, but, really, it was just cute to see him get so jealous over something so small, especially when he’d only moments before been drowning in the midst of a group of well-dressed women vying for his attention.
She placed her hand on his chest, turning herself against his side as she did, which gave him the opportunity to pull her even closer. “Dick, it’s-” She was cut off by an unfamiliar sound rumbling in his chest. “Are you growling?”
The question seemed to snap him out of whatever territorial mindset he’d entered and his attention was suddenly back on her, a guilty look in his eyes that reminded her of a misbehaved puppy.
“It’s okay.” She had to bite back her laugh at the look he was giving her, like he was fully convinced she was about to shove him away from her so she could make a run for it, “You didn’t scare me. And I’m not mad that you’re jealous.”
Roy snickered behind her, and she sent him a sharp side-eye. That was all it took for him to raise his hands and back away.
“I didn’t know that you knew any other wolves.” He lowered his head again to hide against her neck, more in a bid for affection than an attempt to mark her this time.
“I met him not long after the parcel bomb thing. Jason was on guard duty one night and Roy crashed the party looking for Jason. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s not.” He took a breath, releasing whatever tension remained in his muscles, “You don’t have to tell me everyone you know. Don’t think that. I was just being jealous. You didn’t do anything wrong. That was all me.”
“Well, I can’t blame you. You pick up on a lot more than me, so if I’m jealous of all the girls looking at you, then I’m sure you’re way more jealous of all the guys eyeing me. Even if they’re only looking at me because I’m a human.”
“They’re not. If Damian wasn’t giving them looks that could kill, I guarantee at least half of the men staring would be trying to make a move on you.” He growled against her neck, his grip on her hips tightening.
“We can go, if you want.”
He pulled away from her to meet her eyes, “You’re sure? If you want to stay, I don’t want to be the reason you think we should-”
“Dick, I am in the most nauseating dress I’ve ever worn. If it gets me out of this dress, then I’d gladly go to work right now. I would love to spend my time with you outside of this stupid gala.” She got to her tiptoes as he stood straight and got as close to his ear as she could, careful to whisper it as low as she could with the heightened senses of the other attendants in mind, “You look better in the Nightwing suit than the tux anyway.”
If he’d had a tail at the moment, she was sure it’d be wagging.
“Then what are we waiting for? After you.” He gave a dramatic bow as he gestured to the exit.
She patted Damian on the head as she moved towards the door, “If Bruce asks, say something came up.”
Damian wrinkled his nose in disgust, “I’m not lying just so you two can go tongue-wrestle.”
“I’ll tell Alfred that I broke the vase in the living room.”
A/N: Kryptonians have fangs in my heart. Reader has a metagene, but it isn't mentioned what it is. No alter ego or anything for reader in this. Still not great with writing kisses recently and I don't know why. Their meeting is basically how he meets Tana.
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“Hey, Kon…”
[Name] froze the second she stepped into the apartment, blinking rapidly in equal parts shock and awe.
She’d had a crush on him from the moment she'd met him, even if it had only been in the briefest of passing. It was hard not to, unfortunately. Despite the constant flirting and the fact that he’d—literally—picked her up with no warning and no real reason other than, well, flirting, she knew enough about the person he was beyond that on account of the company she kept with those close to Superman. Multiple occasions of his willingness to sacrifice himself were more than enough to overshadow his exhausting display of hormones.
And, okay, it was a little entertaining. And a nice ego boost on a bad day.
They'd talked constantly after their first meeting, enough that she'd grown comfortable enough with him to push open his door upon arriving, since he'd said to do just that.
She hadn’t counted on walking in on him shirtless.
She was a simple person. A simple person who might have enjoyed staring at attractive men a little more than most people, but she was positive that staring at him would have been a natural response to anyone. He was the definition of chiseled, and that came from someone who spent time around those considered at the peak of human performance.
“Oh, you're early.”
She might have guessed he'd just woken up, considering the state of his hair—and his state of dress—but all else was forgotten as he yawned, revealing perfectly white teeth embellished with a set of fangs.
And she could have died then and there, because, yes, her metagene and luck had given her access to the company of some of the most attractive men she'd ever seen, both in pretty boy and ruggedly handsome terms, but she couldn’t ever remember seeing someone so attractive up close that also had a set of fangs.
It made sense, she reasoned.
Superman had a set, but she hadn’t ever been in a room with the big man, and Supergirl had a set, but she’d never noticed them as something to focus on. But Conner's sharp set of canines had her cheeks turning red for an inexplicable reason.
Why was that so attractive?
“Something wrong?”
“Nope. Definitely not.” Her hurried response might have been a little too obvious, especially when Kon was more than capable of hearing her quickening pulse.
Judging by his quirked brow, he was already fully aware of her state, and if his grin was any indication, he was starting to realize why she was so flustered.
He was the worst.
He made a show of pulling on his shirt, every movement of muscle beneath his skin making her heartbeat simultaneously feel like it was going to pound out of her chest and about to stop.
And if her newfound knowledge of exactly what was under his shirt wasn’t enough, she knew that he had fangs now, too.
“You know that’s not fair.”
“No idea what you’re talking about.” His grin was wide enough to show the fangs—arguably more attractive than even his bare chest had been.
It was hardly sophisticated, but when her eyes couldn’t look away, it was all she could think to comment on, “You have fangs.”
His grin fell just enough to make his confusion obvious. “Yeah?”
“Never saw them before.”
Again, his grin widened, “Is that why your heart is beating so fast?”
The worst. He was absolutely the worst.
“So what if it is?”
“Awe, no need to get so defensive.”
She shouldn’t have been surprised. Considering how they’d met and his constant flirting throughout the extent of their friendship, of course her obvious admiration would amp up his already exhausting teasing.
“Lay off, man. You already know you’re hot. GBS’s viewer base has been very clear about that.”
“Sure, but that didn’t mean that you found me hot.”
“What does that matter? You only satisfied if every woman on Earth is attracted to you?”
“I think I’d be satisfied with just you.”
She blinked.
“That would mean more if you weren’t constantly flirting with every woman that you lay eyes on.”
“C’mon, I’m being serious here.”
She scoffed, “You’re flirting. Again. Doesn’t seem much different from normal.” She wouldn’t lie. Different or not, she was far happier to respond to the flirting than usual. “If you really are being more serious than normal, I wouldn’t mind if you acted on it.”
He never made it easy to forget, even with his power and heroics, that he was young—even younger than he seemed—but the way he lit up at her response was so juvenile, like a kid whose crush said they liked them back.
Actually, wait, maybe that was what was happening here.
“You’re serious. You’re actually serious.”
“I tried to tell you that, but no, I can’t ever be serious.”
“Well, if you’re going to be annoying about it, don’t expect me to follow through with that invitation.”
“No, wait!” He almost seemed genuinely panicked, which was more than a little amusing, considering how low the stakes were.
“Oh, relax Kon. I’m just teasing you. It’s taking you long enough to make your move though, you know?”
“Impatient, huh?”
“Hardly.” In contrast to the claim, she tilted her head upward the moment he leaned closer.
“Well, if you’re not interested…”
She grabbed the front of his shirt as he began to move away, “Conner Kent, if you don’t kiss me right now, I’m gonna kill you. And you better use those fangs, or so help me.”
An amused breath hit her in the face, “Yes ma’am.” And then his lips met her own.
She shouldn’t have been surprised that he was well-practiced, still with a clumsy eagerness that she’d expect from someone like him. His lips were slightly chapped, and that was all she was able to think before they slotted against her own perfectly, drowning out any other thoughts.
He pulled back enough to sink his teeth into her bottom lip, earning nothing short of a whine in response. The chuff of a laugh that escaped him at the noise was cut off by her own bite.
The second her teeth sank in, a growl rumbled in his chest and the hand that had been resting innocently against her jaw moved seamlessly to tangle in her hair.
“Oh, wow.”
“Yeah?”
“Didn’t mean to say that out loud. But yeah. That’s good.”
“Back at ya.” His hand remained in her hair, the grip tilting her forehead against his, “So… up for round two?”
I'm gonna work on a fluffy little Jacob Custos fic since I'm stuck on my current bucket fic. Imma toss some of my were lore from my original world into it bc I love werewolves but Quarry weres are too scary to use my cute little Werewolf prompts on.
Summary: Reader might have forgotten who those colors could represent when she bought that outfit.
A/N - Just fluff. Gotta get better at writing kisses. I feel like my quality is slipping, but at the same time, I write these for me, so I still feel like they're better than my old fics.
-
“Well, don’t you look stunning, doll?” Jason circled her like a predator about to pounce, but in contrast, she simply beamed at him and did a spin.
“Isn’t it cool? I look all awesome and dangerous like you do now, right?”
The black leather jacket over her dark red tank top was hardly an intentional homage to him, but he couldn’t be blamed for the flare of possessiveness that ignited when she looked like that. Topped with the grin she flashed—confident and dangerous in nature—and a pair of tight black jeans, jeans with holsters on the sides, he really couldn’t be blamed.
“You look gorgeous in my colors, doll.”
Her grin instantly dropped in surprised realization.
Okay, maybe she’d subconsciously picked the red. She could admit that, considering she found him and the Red Hood get-up the peak of attractiveness, but how dare he call her out on it? She wasn’t that obvious, right?
“Red and black aren’t your copyright, Hoodie.”
“You are showing it off for me. Hard not to think that you’re making a point of admiring me.”
She scoffed, “Yeah, right.”
“You are showing off for me, though. Are you looking for a compliment?”
“You’re in my apartment. I might as well show you my new outfit.”
“Well, if you were looking for a compliment,” he took a step in her direction, briefly reminding her of how intimidating he could be, even in mundane movements, “I could give you one.”
She blinked, fully aware that there was an underlying meaning to that.
“I’m better with actions than words, though.”
Oh.
“Oh.”
The grin he flashed was something that might have annoyed her some weeks ago, but right now, she was too enthralled with the implications to care.
“So, were you looking for a compliment?” He leaned over enough to make his intentions clear.
“Uh,” she swallowed thickly, “maybe.”
She hadn’t realized how close the sofa was until he caged her against the back, his hands aside her hips and his face even with her own.
“Maybe?”
With the surprise waning, she regained her composure, “I don’t want a compliment,” she leaned in almost imperceptibly, “I want you to kiss me.”
“I guess that’s good enough.”
His lips met her own and she was almost positive this was a dream that she was going to wake from.
But she didn’t and it definitely wasn’t.
The aggression that he pressed into the kiss screamed of possession, but she couldn’t say that she didn’t like it. Her own aggressive response led to their teeth clacking together, to which Jason pulled back with a laugh.
“Easy, tiger.”
“You’re one to talk.”
He chuckled as he leaned back in, the aggression gone in favor of something far softer than she would have expected from him before now.
He earned a wistful sigh as he pulled back again, forehead bumping against her own.
“That’s some compliment.”
“Mhm.”
“I think I look a little better than that, though.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“If you want to know exactly how good you look, you shouldn’t expect my lips to leave yours anytime soon.”
“Promise?” Her grin had returned, reflecting his own.
