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[jellyfishsthings]

Imagine this as a fic but its Batfam x batmom or x reader. And they are just so surprised that she did that

https://youtube.com/shorts/8LAk3aKo-Ls?si=WIplidAWfjwxaPdw

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requests are open

It started, as most things in the Wayne Manor did, with Dick.

Specifically, it started with Dick finding a video on his phone of a couple doing a self-defence challenge,  the kind that circulated on social media every few weeks, harmless and silly, where one person had to try a fake attack and the other had to block it. Toy gun. Slow movements. Laughing the whole way through.

'We should do this,' Dick said, holding his phone out to the room at large.

The room at large was the Manor's main living room on a Sunday afternoon, which meant: Tim on the couch with a laptop, Jason with a book he was pretending to read, Damian at the table doing homework with the focused aggression of someone who considered everything a personal challenge, Duke on the floor, and Steph eating cereal directly from the box.

You were in the armchair. Bruce was next to you, reading, arm along the back of your chair in that way he had where he thought he was being subtle about it.

He was never subtle about it.

'Do what?' Tim asked, not looking up.

'This self defence challenge thing. Look.' Dick showed the phone around. 'One person tries the attack with a toy gun, the other has to block it. It's a reaction thing.'

'That looks easy,' Damian said, glancing up from his homework with the withering confidence of a child raised by assassins.

'It's meant to be fun, Dami, not a tactical assessment.'

'Those are not mutually exclusive.'

'I'll do it,' Steph said immediately. 'I'm extremely good at games.'

'You cheated at Monopoly,' Tim said.

'That was strategy.'

'You hid properties in your shoe.'

'STRATEGY.'

'Mom should do it,' Duke said, looking at you.

Everyone looked at you.

You looked up from your book. 'Hm?'

'The challenge,' Dick said, already grinning. 'You and Bruce. He tries to block, you do the attack.'

Bruce made a sound that was almost certainly meant to be neutral but landed somewhere near amused. 'I think I can manage to block my wife with a toy gun.'

'Famous last words,' Jason said, turning a page.

'I'll do it,' you said simply, and went back to your book.

Dick was already looking for a toy in the Manor's impressive and somewhat alarming collection of miscellaneous objects that had accumulated over years of eight people living in one house.

He emerged from the hall cupboard two minutes later with a bright orange plastic water pistol that had almost certainly belonged to someone at some point and nobody could remember who.

'Perfect,' he said.

Here is what the family expected:

A cute moment. Maybe a little fumbling. Bruce being quietly smug about his reaction times. You laughing. Everyone teasing Bruce about being dramatic. The kind of low-stakes Sunday content that you could all hold onto as evidence that this family was, occasionally, normal.

Here is what they got:

Bruce stood in the middle of the living room looking patient and faintly indulgent, the way he looked when he had already decided he was going to win something. Arms loose. Posture relaxed. The very picture of a man who had been doing this professionally since his early twenties.

You stood across from him, orange toy pistol in hand.

Dick had his phone out, recording.

Tim had looked up from his laptop for the first time in an hour.

Jason had put his book down.

Even Damian had turned around in his chair.

'Ready?' Dick said.

'Ready,' Bruce said.

You looked at your husband.

You smiled.

It was a very specific smile. The kind that, if any of them had been paying attention, should have been a warning.

None of them were paying attention.

What happened next took approximately four seconds and would be discussed in the Wayne Manor for the next three years.

You did not go for the obvious shot.

You did not aim for centre mass the way the video had shown.

You did not fumble. You did not hesitate. You did not do anything that suggested this was a fun Sunday afternoon game between a woman and her husband.

What you did was this:

One: you stepped in close. Very close. Inside the range where the block would have been easy.

Two: your left hand came up and poked,  precisely, deliberately, with the focused accuracy of someone who knew exactly what they were doing,  directly into Bruce's ribs.

Bruce startled. One single involuntary flinch, because you knew where every one of his bruises was at all times and you had hit the one from Thursday's patrol with surgical precision.

Three: in the half-second that his attention dropped, just a half-second, barely anything, less than nothing,  you raised the orange plastic water pistol and pressed it directly to his temple.

Point blank.

Headshot.

'Bang,' you said, very calmly.

And then you stepped back, put the toy gun down on the side table, picked up your book, returned to the armchair, and continued reading.

Silence.

Absolute, total, ringing silence.

Bruce stood in the middle of the living room.

He blinked.

'...She just —' Dick started.

'She went for the ribs first,' Tim said, in the voice of someone watching a theorem prove itself in real time. 'She distracted him with the ribs first.'

'She knew about the bruise,' Jason said slowly. He was sitting up now, book forgotten. 'She knew exactly where the bruise was.'

'She's known about that bruise since Thursday,' Duke said. 'She was the one who wrapped it.'

Another silence.

'She used his own injuries against him,' Damian said.

Nobody responded because there was genuinely nothing to add to that.

Dick looked at his phone. Looked at the recording. Looked at you. 'Mom.'

You turned a page. 'Hm?'

'Where did you — how did you —'

'I grew up in Gotham,' you said mildly. 'The ribs were open. It seemed efficient.'

Jason made a sound.

It was not a word. It was more like the noise a person makes when their entire understanding of someone reconfigures itself without warning.

'She said efficient,' he said. 'She called it efficient.'

'It was efficient,' you said.

'You pressed a toy gun to Batman's head.'

'He left it open.'

'He's BATMAN.'

'He's also my husband, and he's been favouring that side since Thursday, and he thought I was going to aim for centre mass like the video.' You looked up. 'I wasn't going to aim for centre mass like the video.'

Bruce, who had not moved from the centre of the living room, said: 'You planned that.'

'I had four seconds,' you said. 'It wasn't a plan. It was an observation.'

'You went for the bruise.'

'You had a bruise.'

'We're going to have a conversation about that.'

'We certainly are,' you agreed, turning another page. 'After I finish this chapter.'

Bruce sat down.

He had the expression he wore when he was genuinely surprised, which happened rarely enough that all of them recognised it and several of them took note.

Dick watched the recording back four times.

'Look at this,' he said, crowding Tim and Duke onto the couch to show them the slow-motion replay he had taken the liberty of creating. 'Look at the timing. She started moving before he finished settling his stance. She was already calculating.'

'She's been watching us train for years,' Tim said.

'She's been watching Bruce train for longer than that,' Duke said.

'She knows all his tells,' Dick said, with the dawning wonder of someone making a discovery that had been obvious all along. 'She probably knows his tells better than we do. She lives with him.'

'She wrapped the bruise,' Jason said again, from across the room. He seemed unable to let this go. 'She put the bandages on it herself and then two days later she hit it like — like she'd had it bookmarked.'

'She did have it bookmarked,' Damian said.

'That's terrifying.'

'That's competent,' Damian corrected, with what was, for him, a significant amount of respect. 'There is a difference.'

Steph was watching the video over Dick's shoulder. 'She doesn't even look at the gun until the last second,' she said. 'She's looking at his face the whole time. She was reading him.'

'She reads him every day,' Tim said.

'Over breakfast,' Dick added.

'She once told him he was going to be in a bad mood before he knew he was going to be in a bad mood,' Duke said. 'I was there. It happened exactly like she said.'

They all looked at you, still in the armchair, still reading, completely unbothered.

'Mom,' Steph said.

'Steph.'

'Have you always been like this?'

'Like what?'

'Like —' Steph gestured, vaguely but expressively, at the general concept of what had just happened.

You considered the question with genuine seriousness.

'I grew up in Gotham,' you said again. 'I married Bruce Wayne. I raised all of you.' You turned a page. 'Did you think that happened by accident?'

A pause.

'...No,' Steph said slowly. 'But I thought it was more of a — patience thing. A love thing.'

'It is a love thing,' you said. 'It is also an observation thing. They're not mutually exclusive.' You glanced up. 'Ask Damian. He understood immediately.'

Everyone looked at Damian.

Damian looked like he had just been given something he hadn't known to want.

'She is correct,' he said, with great dignity. 'Competence and love are not mutually exclusive. Mother has always demonstrated both.'

There was a beat.

'I need to sit down,' Jason said. He was already sitting down. He sat down further.

[ wayne family gc — minus bruce and mom ]

dick: okay I need everyone to acknowledge what just happened

steph: SHE WENT FOR THE RIBS

tim: the bruise specifically

duke: she KNEW about the bruise

jason: because SHE WRAPPED IT

cass: I saw the video

cass: good form

dick: CASS

cass: what

cass: she had good form

tim: she had EXCELLENT form that's the PROBLEM

cass: not a problem

cass: impressive

steph: where did she even learn that

jason: she said she grew up in Gotham

steph: I grew up in Gotham I cannot do that

duke: I also grew up in Gotham

duke: same

dick: she's been watching us for years

dick: she knows all of Bruce's tells

dick: she probably knows things about how he moves that we don't

tim: she lives with him

tim: she has been studying him at close range for years

tim: and she deployed that knowledge

tim: with a toy water pistol

tim: on a Sunday afternoon

jason: for FUN

steph: casually

duke: she went back to her book immediately

dick: SHE WENT BACK TO HER BOOK

jason: like nothing happened

jason: like she didn't just

jason: press a plastic gun to Batman's head

cass: she said bang

steph: SO CALMLY

dick: I have it on video

dick: the 'bang' delivery alone

tim: send it

dick: already sent

duke: I've watched it six times

steph: the smile before she does it

steph: she was SMILING

jason: she KNEW

jason: she knew from the second Dick suggested it

tim: she said 'I'll do it' and went back to her book

tim: she was already planning

dick: while reading

duke: while sitting next to Bruce

steph: this woman

cass: I like her more now

cass: if that was possible

dick: Cass we all like her more now

dick: I didn't think that was possible either

jason: where's Bruce

tim: still in the living room

tim: sitting next to her

tim: he keeps looking at her

duke: what expression

tim: the one where he doesn't know what to do with something

steph: is he

steph: is Batman

steph: flustered

tim: ...

tim: a little bit yeah

jason: INCREDIBLE

dick: this is the best Sunday we've ever had

cass: agree

duke: agree

steph: agree

jason: agree

damian: I have been in this conversation the entire time

damian: I simply had nothing to add until now

damian: Mother handled it correctly

damian: Father left the opening

damian: she took it

damian: this is what we train for

jason: Damian that is NOT what we train for

damian: it is what Mother trained for apparently

damian: and she was more effective than any of us

damian: consider that

steph: ...

steph: he's right

dick: he's right

tim: he's so right

duke: none of us would've gone for the bruise

jason: I might've gone for the bruise

jason: but I would've telegraphed it

jason: she didn't telegraph ANYTHING

jason: she looked him in the eye the whole time

cass: yes

cass: that was the impressive part

cass: she never looked at the gun

cass: only him

dick: she was reading him

cass: yes

cass: she always reads him

cass: we just didn't know she did it like that

By evening the video had been watched a collective forty-seven times between the eight of them.

Dick had sent it to Barbara, who had replied with three crying-laughing emojis and 'I KNEW she had something going on.'

Tim had watched it in slow motion and written what Steph described as 'an unhinged amount of notes' about the mechanics.

Jason kept bringing it up at random intervals throughout dinner, staring at nothing, and saying things like 'the ribs' and 'she just — the ribs.'

Damian had said nothing further on the subject but had looked at you across the dinner table with an expression of profound and settled respect that he hadn't bothered to disguise.

Cass, when she arrived for dinner, had sat next to you and said 'good form' again and you had thanked her, and that had been, somehow, the highest praise the evening produced.

Bruce sat next to you the way he always sat next to you — close, arm along the back of your chair, the subtle gravity of a man who always wanted to know where you were in the room.

'You planned it,' he said, quietly enough that only you could hear.

'I had four seconds,' you said.

'You went for the bruise.'

'It was there.'

'You wrapped that bruise.'

'I did.'

'So you knew exactly—'

'Bruce,' you said, in the patient tone. 'You left it open. You thought I was going to go for centre mass because that's what the video showed and you'd already decided how you were going to block it before I moved.' You picked up your fork. 'You planned for the wrong thing.'

A pause.

'You've been watching me,' he said.

'You're my husband. I've been watching you for years.'

'Not like … not tactically. You were reading my stance.'

'I read you every morning over coffee,' you said. 'I know when you're tired before you do. I know which shoulder you're favouring before you sit down. I know when you've had a bad patrol from how you hold your fork.' You looked at him. 'Did you think that was something different from what I did today?'

He looked at you.

For a moment he had that expression,  the one he almost never wore, the one that meant something had reached him that he hadn't defended against because he hadn't known to.

'No,' he said, quietly. 'I suppose not.'

'I love you,' you said. 'And I pay attention to you. Those are the same thing.' You went back to your dinner. 'The ribs were just a bonus.'

From across the table, Jason said 'the ribs' again, to no one, like a man haunted.

Dick muffled a laugh into his water glass.

Damian looked at his plate with the small private smile he saved for moments he found genuinely satisfying.

Bruce looked at you the way he always looked at you when he thought you weren't watching.

You were always watching.

That was, after all, the whole point.

Later, when the house was quieter and the kids had scattered, Bruce found you back in the armchair with your book.

He sat on the arm of it, which was not what chairs were designed for and was very him, and looked at you for a moment.

'Rematch,' he said.

You turned a page.

'Hm,' you said. 'I'll think about it.'

'I'll be ready this time.'

'You said that about the last three board games.'

'That was different.'

'Was it.'

'I wasn't taking them seriously.'

'You were extremely serious about Scrabble.'

'QUARTZ was a valid word and Tim was wrong.'

'Tim has a dictionary app, Bruce.'

'The dictionary app was wrong.'

You looked up at him. He was already looking at you, that quiet specific attention that he gave to very few things and you had never taken for granted.

'You can have a rematch,' you said.

'Thank you.'

'I'm going to win that one too.'

He smiled. Small and real and entirely yours.

'Probably,' he said.

[ wayne family gc — minus bruce and mom ]

dick: they're in the living room

dick: she's reading

dick: he's sitting on the arm of her chair looking at her like she hung the moon

steph: he always does that

dick: yeah but NOW he's doing it because she held a toy gun to his head

jason: the ribs

tim: Jason

jason: THE RIBS, Tim

duke: are you going to be okay

jason: no

jason: I'm never going to be okay

jason: I watched Batman get outplayed by his wife with a water pistol

jason: on a Sunday

jason: for fun

cass: she said bang

jason: SHE SAID BANG

steph: so calmly

dick: and then sat back down

duke: and kept reading

tim: like nothing happened

damian: because to her, nothing exceptional happened

damian: she saw an opening and she took it

damian: that is simply who she is

damian: we are only now understanding this

dick: Damian

damian: yes

dick: are you okay

damian: I am better than okay

damian: I am proud

cass: same

steph: same honestly

duke: same

tim: same

dick: same

jason: ...same

jason: the ribs though

dick: goodnight Jason

jason: goodnight

jason: I'm keeping this video forever

steph: we all are

duke: family archive

tim: I'll make a folder

dick: there's already a folder

dick: it's called 'mom moments'

dick: I started it three years ago

tim: ...there's a folder

dick: there's a folder

steph: what else is in the folder

dick: the time she told Bruce he was going to be in a bad mood before he knew

dick: the time she talked Damian down from an argument in four sentences

dick: the time she looked at Jason across a room at a gala and he immediately fixed his tie without her saying anything

jason: that's not —

jason: okay that happened

dick: this goes in the folder

dick: in the number one spot

cass: agreed

damian: agreed

everyone: agreed

[cassiereblogs]

The ribs😂😂

Poor Jason is going through it

[mistys-x-reader-emporium]

The ribs-

[cafecourage]

Imagine a self aware into isekai au. (Obey me)

Like I have been thinking about this vaguely all day and only now just sat down to think about it. Theoretically it could work MC just looks like you. Maybe there are a few differences given MC is arguably almost certainly not human. But imagine with the phone calls each getting slowly more and more responsive to what you say. The app suddenly getting a new “feature” that allows you to type back like an AI chat bot. But it has more memory more awareness just more everything. Even the guy you have on your home-screen gets a bit more…aware. You could be out with friends eating dinner and he would make note of it. You could be at work and he comments encouraging words.

Idk when or how the isekai would happen. I guess that would be depending on the game. I only played the first and third so it could be funny if you just… get dragged into the third game at the wedding. (Or that wildly silly bachelor/bachelorette party)

[mistys-x-reader-emporium]

Ooooo yes!!

I think it would be really interesting especially if the self-aware brothers are somehow left without knowing you're IN the game. Yet.

They're like 'haha at least Y/n isn't in the code-

Oh shit-

Anyway I also think they might start trying to influence other things on your phone if that's at all possible. More money in your bank account more discounts better ads yk?

[sanguineterrain]

super fan | jason todd

Summary: Three months into your relationship, your boyfriend Jason Todd finds your Red Hood poster. You're mortified. But Jason? Well, you've got his face in your room and your lips on his... truth be told, Jason maybe likes it a little too much that you're a super fan of his.

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader 

Word count: 5.4k

Warnings/tags: bf!jason, you find jason and RH hot and that crosses some wires. jason takes advantage of your crush (in a hot way), competency kink, cocky jason, identity porn, minor violence, motorcycles, reader has a crush on RH but doesn't know jason is RH so it's a little complicated but NO cheating!! implied sexual content but NO explicit smut.

divider

Tonight, you're staying at Jason's place. You've only been dating three months, but it's going well enough that you're comfortable enough to stay over. Jason has hinted more than once that you can leave clothes at his place, but you insist on keeping all of your stuff at your apartment, just in case things go south. What's that rule? Six months and you’ll know whether he’s the one? Three months to go, then.

Call you crazy, but you think you might already know. Jason is fantastic and you’re sure you’re in love with him. Not that you're going to tell him that any time soon. But you know enough not to put all of your stock into a three-month relationship. Who knows what secrets Jason Todd might be hiding.

"How come you never invite me to your place?" Jason asks as he pulls up in front of your building. He'd offered to drive you both to his apartment on his motorcycle, and it's officially weird if you refuse him. He might think you're hiding something. And you are. Something mortifying.

"Because you're gonna try to install your special security measures," you say as he locks his bike.

Jason thinks about it, then nods. "Yeah, that's probably true. No, but it's your place. I wouldn't do anything you wouldn't know about."

"I know," you say, going inside and holding the door for him. "But my apartment is smaller than yours.”

"That doesn't matter to me, baby."

When did he get it into his head that he needs to be in your apartment? You go up the stairs with Jason behind you, thinking about how you can excuse not inviting him inside. Except, it’s suspicious if you make him wait outside. Even for Jason, who's about as cagey as they come. He seems to trust you fine, but you have no idea what freak raised him because he's eternally wary of people and unfamiliar places. He also insists on sitting close to the door when you go out to eat. But even he's invited you to his place. Many times now. Maybe you can extend the same favor. 

"Fine. You get a quick tour," you say against your better judgment as you get to your door, unlocking it.

"I'm honored, truly." Jason follows you inside. He clicks his tongue, pointing to the lock. "No deadbolt?"

"Jason..."

"I mean, what a beautiful lock on your door," he says sweetly, kissing your cheek. "Y'know what would make it even more beautiful?"

"You being less paranoid?"

"Seventy percent of Gotham break-ins are in residences that have only one lock. Sixty-five percent of them are on—"

You turn around and put your arms around Jason. He automatically puts his arms around your waist and stops talking. His beauty still stuns you: his aquiline nose, his freckles, those bright teal eyes. You get shy at times, flustered and delighted at the fact that this hunk of a man likes you so much.

"I'm extremely attracted to you, despite your raccoon demeanor," you say.

"You'd be the first," Jason says, gaze terribly fond. "I'll shut up now 'bout the statistics."

"No, statistics are hot. Just not when they're about home invasions."

"Point taken. How 'bout stats on Gotham's exports?"

You throw your head back, gasping. "Oh! You fiend. No more, please. I may just ravish you here on the floor!"

Jason bends you back a little, his hand fitting in the center of your back to ease you over. He doesn't do that very often, use his strength and wield you the way he wants, but when he does, you lose your breath. Your pulse quickens as Jason nuzzles your neck.

"This okay?" he asks. You hum an airy yes.

"'M in no rush," he says in your ear. "We can linger. Haven't finished your tour. 'S your room next?"

You straighten so fast, you nearly knock Jason in the teeth. It's only because of his quick reflexes that you don't.

"You can't see my room," you rush out, looking at him with wide eyes.

Jason squints, hands dropping to your sides. "What? Why?"

"Um... because... because my room is a mess."

"So? I don't care. My room looks like a solitary confinement cell."

You raise an eyebrow. Jason clears his throat.

"Well, I mean, it used to. It's better now that I have plants and shit."

"Lack of decor is nowhere near as embarrassing as my room, Jason. Mine is beyond messy. It's filled with half-eaten pizza crusts. And rats. And... slime?"

"Slime, huh? Well, good thing I wore my Doc Martens. I can withstand a little slime."

You sag. "You don't believe me."

Jason smiles and kisses your forehead. "Not particularly, baby. What's the issue, huh? You hiding nudie mags or something?"

You roll your eyes. "Who calls it that, Jay? You sound like Tony Soprano. Just say porn."

"Gracefully choosing to ignore that comment. Look, if y'do have porn, it's nothing to be ashamed of. You should feel safe to express and explore your sexuality however you—"

"Oh my God, it's not porn." You cover your face. "Jesus. It's—okay, just come in. If you're gonna break up with me over this, we might as well face it now."

"I'm not gonna break up with you," he says as you take his hand and lead him to your bedroom. "Nothing you show me could—"

You swing open the door Jason trails off as he follows you in, his eyes landing on your 4x6 poster of the Red Hood that's smack middle in the room, taped over your bed.

And then, obviously, one can't miss the Red Hood towel on your computer chair, or the Red Hood mug. And the limited edition Red Hood Bat Burger bobblehead, which was quickly discontinued after some public backlash.

"Wow," Jason says.

You groan and bury your face in your hands. "It's fine. I know it's weird. Just go."

You don’t know how it happened, this accumulation of Red Hood merch. It's not like people aren’t fans of heroes. Plenty of local heroes are revered across the world. You have an online friend from Brazil who has literally all of the Superman collectibles. But Superman is reasonable. Batman is reasonable. Nightwing is common and basically a Gotham staple—you've seen women in Nightwing bikinis.

But Red Hood fans are far and few. Plenty of people think he's a criminal and a borderline villain. Some people, working-class people mostly, adore him. You've heard plenty of wonderful things he's done to turn neighborhoods around, keep people safe, fight The Man. Hell, last week there was a video of him carrying an old woman to the hospital after she fell in the road.

Plus, you get the feeling he's really handsome under that helmet. You're sure he's physically overwhelming, at the very least. You've seen clips of him fighting. Oh boy, can he hold his own.

But if you told the average person on the street that your favorite hero is Red Hood, they'd definitely give you a side eye. You brace yourself for one now. 

"Huh," Jason says. "Didn't think you'd be a fan of his. Not really a hero, is he?"

You huff, squaring your shoulders. "He's helped a lot of people. No one actually cares about protecting us except for vigilantes. Red Hood protects innocents. If that takes a little bit of a heavier hand, so be it."

Jason raises his eyebrows. "Didn't know you played fast with morality like that, honey."

"You don't agree?" If this is where your relationship ends, you'd rather it happen sooner than later. "He's implemented a lot of fundamental structures that even Batman hasn't. He's more big-picture than the Bats. So, whatever, okay? If you think I'm nutty for liking Red Hood, then just go now."

You cross your arms and turn away from Jason. It's quiet for a long moment. You're sure it's done; you've just ruined the first relationship you really wanted to make work. But you've been on dates and let it slip that you admire Hood, and plenty of men let you know what an idiot you are to do so. You thought Jason would understand. Maybe not.

But then you feel arms around your stomach. Jason kisses your cheek.

"C'mon," he says chidingly, voice low and sweet in your ear. "Y'think it's that easy to scare me off? We live in Gotham, sweetheart. The only way I'd be worried is if you had someone's head sitting in your fridge. And even then, I'd hear ya out on whose head it is."

You lean into Jason's solid warmth, rubbing your cheek against his scruff like a cat. "I'd have my reasons if I did that."

"Mm, I know it."

You slip out of his grip enough to turn around. Jason's got a coy, little grin on, and you can't figure out why. But you suppose that's better than him leaving because of your local celebrity crush.

"You're really not annoyed?" you ask. "Because if you are, we should hash it out now."

"No, baby, 'm not annoyed." Jason glances at the Red Hood bobblehead. His grin widens, tongue resting between his teeth as he looks at you. You feel hunted, but the glint in Jason’s eye quickly disappears. "I think he does what needs to be done."

"Yeah?"

"Sure. Just surprised, is all. He doesn't seem like your type."

You blink, heart beating faster. "My type? Well, I-I just think he contributes a lot to the city. It's not... I appreciate what he does for Gotham."

"Wait." He tilts his head like he's genuinely trying to figure something out. "D'you have a crush on Hood or something?"

You blink, flustered at how quickly Jason picked up on that. How does he do that? "I don't—I mean, I admire him—he's—but I don't even know what he looks like, so—"

Jason's eyes light up, and you know you've made a mistake, just not the one you thought you would. He cups the back of your neck, which always makes you hot and squirmy.

"Oh, you do like him like that. Huh. Didn't know the helmet did it for you. Very interesting news, sweetheart. He doesn't scare ya?"

"No," you say, the word coming out weak. Wires are being crossed in your head between the image of the Red Hood and your boyfriend crowding you in your room and pressing his lips to your neck.

"That's very good to hear," Jason says, and you give in, tugging him over to your bed. He laughs. "Why didn't you want me to know?"

"It's embarrassing," you whine. "The poster was from a friend."

You let Jason climb atop you, permeating your senses with his bulk and his citrusy scent. He carefully keeps his weight off of you, but you wish he'd hold you down. This is exactly why you didn't want to bring Jason over; you don't need your old fantasies of Red Hood getting mixed up with your boyfriend.

"I don't think it's embarrassing," he says, gently taking your leg and crooking it over his hip. "You picturing him right now?"

"Jason!" You thwack his shoulder. You feel it more than he does, probably. He cackles.

"Teasin'," he says, soothing you with a kiss. "But I can get a helmet if you want me to."

You kick him off the bed. "No more tours for you!"

Work runs late a week later, so you're still out by the time eight o'clock rolls around. It's summer time, so it's not the worst thing ever, but you know what Jason would say. Your last message is still unread because Jason works most nights. You’ve chosen not to worry him by telling him you're also working tonight, instead texting him funny Gotham memes.

"Evening."

…Maybe you should've let him know.

You flinch, the voice startling you hard. Red Hood is leaning against the fence surrounding the park you pass by on your way to the bus stop. His arms are crossed, and his biceps bulge underneath his tight black t-shirt. You can't tell from here, but you're sure he must tower over you.

"Oh." Briefly, you wonder if you summoned him somehow after revealing your room to Jason last week. You've lived in Gotham your whole life and you've never run into Hood. The only vigilante you've met is Red Robin, and he's not a talker.

"Hi," you say, a little nervous, a little starstruck.

"Hi," Hood says, letting his arms drop. His posture is easy, but you know better. You know he's here for a reason. "Working tonight?"

You nod. "I just finished. I'm just going to the bus now."

"Pretty late for the bus."

"It's June."

"It's Gotham."

You open your mouth, then close it. Then you open it again. "Um... it's okay. I've done it plenty of times before."

"Plenty of times? Without letting anyone know?"

You wince. "Well, not plenty—"

"Nobody to pick you up?"

You shrug. "No."

"No? Think hard." There's the tiniest edge to his tone.

"I mean, my boyfriend could, hypothetically, but he works nights, so—"

"And you think his job is more important than making sure you're safe? It'd devastate him if something happened to you."

You blink. "I don't—I guess I didn't think of it that way."

Hood shakes his head. Then he pushes himself off of the fence and approaches you. Immediately, your heart rate increases. To be this close to the Red Hood, to have him worry about little old you, scold you for not calling Jason, it's causing a confusing mix of emotions to swirl inside you.

You've thought about how you'd act if you met Red Hood. Maybe ask for an autograph if the opportunity arises. You can't fathom asking him for anything now. He's intimidating. Maybe you are a little afraid, but it's intertwined with other feelings.

Hood pauses. "Everything okay?" he asks carefully. "Your heart rate spiked."

"Oh," you say breathlessly. "Yes, I'm okay."

You can't see his face but you feel like he doesn't believe you. "Sure?"

You wonder if he can see all of your vitals. Can he see how warm you feel? "Yes, I'm sure. It's just... I'm sort of a fan of you. So it's... it's an experience."

Hood laughs. "Fan? Don't think I have any fans."

You shake your head. "That's not true. I know a few people who like you."

He hums and approaches you slowly. You let him until he's close enough for you to take in his physicality completely. He's a couple inches taller than Jason. Not that it matters. Just an observation.

"'M flattered," he says softly. "But if you're jus' sayin' that 'cause you're a little scared, please don't."

"No, I'm not scared. I trust you, Red Hood."

He folds his arms, stretching his neck to his right shoulder. You catch a sliver of tanned, scarred skin. "So soon?"

"Uh-huh."

"Kinda crazy of ya."

You shrug. "Maybe."

"Hmm. We goin' home?"

"You want to take me home?" you ask, eyes wide.

"Not-not like that. I mean, I can't let ya go home alone."

"No, I know, I just... I didn't think Red Hood made home visits."

"Sometimes." He makes an aborted gesture to touch your cheek with his finger and you swallow hard. Your ears are very hot. You might choke on your spit.

"I didn't know Red Hood would care that much if I went home."

"'Course I do," he says softly. "Your safety is my priority."

"My-?"

"Civilians, I mean," Hood says quickly. "'S why I'm out here patrolling."

"But surely there's people who need you more than me. I'm just some nobody going home from work, I—"

"You're not a nobody. Don't say that," Hood says with so much force, it renders you silent. "Got it?"

You nod. "Okay. Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry 'bout. C'mon, I'll take you home, okay?"

You really don't want to bother Jason at this hour. Besides, as far as vigilante escorts go, Hood really isn't the worst choice. Another person might be afraid. A sane person would refuse.

"Yes, I'm okay with that," you say, smiling. "Thank you."

"Sure. My bike is parked down the block."

He walks a little behind you, close enough for you to turn and talk to him, but angled so that nothing can sneak up on you. It's the way Jason walks with you sometimes. You wonder if it's a Gotham thing.

Hood's bike is a cherry red. He lets you type in your address into his GPS. Then he gives you a helmet.

"Safety first," he says. It's the same helmet that Jason wears for his motorcycle. For a second, you swear you can smell his aftershave. Orange blossoms.

Hood gestures for you to get on. He holds the bike steady and it seems like he's going to hold your back to help you onto the bike. But he doesn't touch you, not like Jason does.

"Ever been on a bike before?" he asks when you're on.

"My boyfriend's."

He hums, throwing a leg over and straddling the bike. You blink at the sudden wall of bulk in front of you. "He treat you right, that boyfriend?"

You nod. "He's amazing. I love him."

Hood is silent for a moment, then he clears his throat. "Good. Lady like you deserves to be treated like a princess."

You laugh. "You barely know me. I'm no princess."

"I got a good sense about people. Hold onto me."

You wrap your arms around his waist. He tuts at you.

"Gotta hold me tighter than that. Don't want you flying off. You know better."

You tighten your hold, flustered and speechless. Hood pats your hand.

"There we go. Good listener," he says. "Everything okay back there? You're quiet."

For a second, it sounds like he's teasing you, and your stomach jumps like when Jason teases you. But the Red Hood isn't playful like that, right?

"I'm okay," you say.

"Nervous?"

You shake your head. "No."

"No? Glad you've got so much faith in me."

"I do."

Hood turns on his bike, revving the engine. You squeeze him tighter as he flicks the kickstand up with his foot, pushing off and balancing. He does so effortlessly. Wow.

Hood gets you home quickly. He follows all the traffic laws and doesn't speed. He drives efficiently, like Jason, but he takes it slow on the leans... like Jason. Maybe he can feel how you get nervous on motorcycles.

"This is it?" he asks, slowing down next to your building.

"Yes. Thank you." You wait as Hood stops and gets off first, then helps you off. You take his gloved hand, and he helps you off like it's nothing, bearing most of your weight.

"No more secretly working nights," he tells you. "I'll know."

You don't question it. "Okay. I won't."

"Good. Have a good night."

He starts to mount his bike. You step off the curb, in front of him. Hood stops.

"What's up?" he asks, nodding at you. He addresses you so casually... so familiar.

"Um, I was... do you mind if I ask for your autograph?"

Hood looks at you for a long moment. You lose your nerve and turn around.

"Never mind! Sorry. Good night."

"Hang on."

You turn around. Hood beckons you over with two fingers. You go, eyes widening as he takes off his gloves. He gives them to you. You catch a glimpse of more scars and maybe a silver ring. Jason sometimes wears a silver chain around his neck. It dangles over you when he’s—

"Oh no! Oh my God, you don't have to—"

"Got a bunch." It sounds like he's smiling. "Always nice to meet a fan. Any trouble with that boyfriend, let me know."

You're not sure if you respond, you're so dazed. Hood pulls away from the curb like a bat out of hell, waving at you as he goes.

You're already in bed by the time Jason comes home from work. He comes home earlier than usual, and you're still awake when he crawls into your bed next to you. You've taken down the Red Hood poster, too embarrassed from last week. Jason insists he's going to get you an even bigger poster. You beg him not to.

"How'd you know I was at my place?" you ask, yawning.

"My apartment alarm didn't report anybody entering."

"Still think it's weird that you track who enters your apartment," you say.

"Safety first. You usually don't go to your place unless you're coming home from work. You wouldn't happen to have worked a shift tonight without telling me, would you?"

"Okay, yes, but please don't be mad. I didn't take the bus." You pause before finishing. "Red Hood actually gave me a ride home tonight."

You reach sleepily for Jason's arm. He tucks himself into place behind you, wrapping an arm and a leg around you. He smells like your shampoo.

"Yeah, don't think we aren't done with the conversation about you taking the bus home at night, by the way. Red Hood, huh? Should I be doubly worried then?"

You roll your eyes. "Not on my part. But I was definitely getting a vibe."

"A vibe? Red Hood's got the hots for my girl?"

Jason slips a hand under your shirt to rest on your stomach. He always runs a little cool and it feels good on warm nights like tonight. He doesn't mean anything by it, but desire creeps onto you, slow and thick. You think of the gloves in your dresser.

"It kinda felt like that," you say, a little embarrassed to even admit it. "He, uh, gave me his gloves."

"His gloves?" Jason sounds sleepy. "That's basically a proposal."

"Two centuries ago, maybe. Please don't be jealous. Nothing happened, Jay."

You'd never cheat on Jason, obviously, but you've had a crush on the Red Hood since he came to Gotham. Riding on his motorcycle tonight was exhilarating, to say the least. Still, you don't want this to be a thing. Another guy would probably get upset.

But Jason's tone doesn't change. He's still sleepy and peaceful. "'M not. Might have to kick his ass, though."

You laugh at the thought. Jason kneads the soft fat of your stomach. "Something funny?" he asks. "Y'think I can't take him?"

"I know you could," you say, and you mean it, even though you're not sure how well your boyfriend can dodge bullets. "But, I mean, you're too nice for him, Jay. Hood fights dirty when he needs to. You fight fair."

"Wow. So you don't think I could beat Red Hood in a fight. Way to bruise a man's ego, baby." Jason buries his face in the back of your neck in retaliation. You squeal at the tickles.

"I didn't say that!" you say, giggling. "It's a compliment. You're too nice to scrap with him. Ah! Jason, mercy, mercy!"

"So you're saying he's mean?" Jason asks, showing mercy and easing off. He returns to just holding you, leg over yours.

"Not... not to civilians. Not to me. He's just a little rough overall, I think. But he seemed nice."

"Oh my God, you loved it," Jason says, no longer sounding so sleepy. "You loved being on his bike. You loved him being a little rough. This was a dream come true."

"No! No, Jason, it wasn't like that."

"You got the hots for Hood," he sing-songs. "Hood hots, Hood hots!"

"I don't, I don't," you say, shoving your face into your pillow. "Stop. You know you're the only one for me."

Jason hums, pushing himself up so he's on top of you without putting his weight on you. He pets your hip. "Yeah, baby, I know. Don't worry. Not mad. I think it's cute. You got a little flustered around him. No biggie. I trust ya."

You sigh, turning your face to the side. "He was professional."

Jason snorts. "Yeah, he better have been. Pretty lady like you holding onto him."

"I'm sure he helps way prettier ladies in a night," you mumble.

Jason easily rolls you over, so you're facing each other. He tucks you into his chest, an arm and a leg returning to their places around you.

"I seriously doubt it," he says. You can feel his voice vibrate through his chest. "Everyone knows you're the prettiest princess in Gotham, baby."

You hesitate, thinking about Hood. "Princess?"

"Yeah. That okay?"

"Oh. Yeah, that's fine."

Jason makes a noise like he knows something you don't.

Every so often, you really hate living in Gotham. It's usually around a time like this: Scarecrow has broken out of Arkham, and he's causing serious damage. Everyone has been warned to stay inside, and the sky is hazy with fear gas.

You're mostly worried about Jason. He went out a few hours ago and he hasn't texted you since. You asked where he was and called him a dozen times but he didn't respond. You're freaking out.

You're about to go out and look for him, Scarecrow be damned, when suddenly Red Hood is on the balcony of your boyfriend's apartment. How did he avoid tripping the alarm? You go to open the window but he opens it himself.

Shit. Is Hood breaking into Jason's apartment? Who the hell do you call in this situation?

"Hey," he says, voice tight. "Get your bag. We gotta go. Scarecrow and Ivy teamed up and it's bad."

"What? Okay. Oh my God." You jump into action, running into Jason's room to get your stuff. You come back, about to climb out the window, but you stop. He waves you over urgently. You shake your head and take a step back.

"No, I can't go without Jason," you say. "He was supposed to be back by now. What if he's gassed? He hasn't called me."

Hood fidgets, his whole body restless. He looks around, then looks back at you. "I'm sure he's fine. You can call him again when you're—"

"No," you say, staring those glowing white eyes down. "I don't care what authority you might hold, Hood. I'm not leaving Jason. He might come back here and he'll worry if I'm not here. I was going to go look for him."

"Don't do that," he says firmly. "Jesus." He looks at you, rolls his shoulders, then sighs. He shakes his head and grabs his helmet.

"Fuck," he says. "Fuck, I didn't wanna do it this way. Shit. Okay."

The latches of his helmet click. And suddenly you have your boyfriend in front of you, dressed like the Red Hood. He drops his helmet on the floor. 

Your mouth falls open. "Wh—Jason? What? Are you–you were him the whole time? Are you fucking ser—"

"I know, I'm sorry." He takes your hands. "I'm sorry, honey. I wasn't gonna tell you this way but you're so stubborn, worrying about me and shit. I promise you can yell at me as much as you want after. You can throw stuff, hit me, break up with me, anything you want, just—"

You squeeze his hands. Jason stops his senseless ramble.

"I would never do any of those things," you say. "You don't know me at all if you think I would, Jay. I'm just, y'know, caught off-guard. Apparently, I've had a crush on my boyfriend since he before he became my boyfriend."

He cracks a smile. You roll your eyes.

"And you've been a smug asshole about it this whole time!"

"Kinda," he admits, looking away, and you see how pleased he's been about the whole thing. "I'll make it up to ya."

"Yeah, you better. Where are we going?"

Jason's shoulders slump with relief. You see it in his eyes too. 

"You'll go with me?"

"Always," you say.

He takes his helmet, shifting from your boyfriend back to Red Hood. Wow. "Okay. Down the fire escape. We're taking my bike."

Jason puts his helmet back on. You follow him down the fire escape and to where his—Hood's—bike is parked.

"Your bike, huh?" you ask.

"My other bike."

"Uh-huh."

Hood gives you a rebreather and you take off, headed toward the Diamond District. He goes down a ramp and through some pretty fancy gates. Where...?

Concrete walls slide open and Jason pulls into what looks like a lair. Holy shit. He helps you off and you take off your helmet, staring up at a cave ceiling that seems to go on forever.

"Hood," someone growls, startling your gaze back down. Batman is glaring at you. "Why is there a civilian here?"

Jason takes off his helmet. "Yeah, so, this is my girlfriend. She's staying here, and if you try to kick her out, I'm gonna blow up the Batmobile. Cool? Cool."

"Since when do you have a girlf—" begins Red Robin.

"No questions," Jason snaps. "Not one word. Be nice to her or I'll kill you all."

You gasp. Jason turns to you, pulling you closer.

"No, sorry, I wouldn't do that. No deaths. They would recover from my maiming," he says to you, petting your shoulder.

"Not better," you hiss.

He shrugs, smiling. "'M a man of habit. Gonna try to change me now?" He kisses your cheek and you melt like you always do under his affection. Jason leans in and whispers the last part: "You could. I'd let ya."

"Wow," says Spoiler. Is the entire Gotham vigilante taskforce here? "So it's true what they say about married life."

"We aren't married," you say, confused. Jason grunts in annoyance, cradling the small of your back.

"With how he's acting? You might as well be," she says.

"This is so awesome," Nightwing says, full of glee. "Oh, you'll never hear the end of this, Jason."

"Listen, Dickbag—"

"Focus," Batman says. "She can't be here. Take her upstairs and come right back."

Jason rolls his eyes. "Sure, fine. C'mon, baby."

Robin is glaring at you, which kind of makes you want to throw up. But then Black Bat and Spoiler wave at you, and that makes you feel better. You wave back.

"Batman's really mad," you say as Jason leads you upstairs.

"Yeah, that's his default setting. He's been mad for about twenty-five years. He'll get over it. You're gonna meet Alfred next. He's the best."

"Alfred?"

You get to the top of the stairs and step into what looks like a mansion. Wait a minute. You've seen this mansion before. In a magazine...

"Is this Wayne Manor? What the hell, Jason? Am I meeting the Queen of Denmark next?"

"Again, not how I wanted you to find out," he says.

"I'm–I'm not dressed to be in Wayne Manor!"

"Bruce dresses up as a bat every night. Rest assured that you are the most normal person in this house, and none of those freaks downstairs can ever take that away from you."

You frown. "Still..."

"Don't y'trust me?" Jason asks, tapping under your chin. He towers over you, and now you notice that his Red Hood boots are taller than his normal ones. Clever.

"Yeah, I trust you, but—" You stop as Jason herds you against the wall, helmet dangling from his hand. He looks very official with his guns and armored clothing. His black cargo pants are pulled taut around his thighs, outlining how thick they are. It's just now occurring to you how deadly competent your boyfriend is, now that you've learned that the Red Hood was never that far away. Maybe you should be scared but, well, the wires were crossed a while ago.

"I didn't even suspect anything," you say, blinking at him. "You had me completely."

Jason shrugs, eyes half-lidded. You're not mad. He knows it. "Made sure you wouldn't find out. Wanted to find the right time, see how you felt about Hood. And then imagine my surprise when I learn that you've got his face on your wall, and his gloves in your dresser."

"You liked it," you say, lifting your chin, challenging.

Jason leans in, cupping the back of your neck, lips going to your ear. He wedges a knee between yours. "How could I not? You're so pretty, so nice t'me. Y'like me that much? Want me even like that? Tellin' Hood you love me, God—"

Something beeps, loud and shrill, and you jump. Jason just sighs exasperatedly, pulling out his phone and denying the alert.

"You have to go," you say, suddenly guilty you've kept Jason for so long.

"I—" Jason grimaces. "Yeah. I'll be back. We're not done."

You bite the inside of your lip. "I hope not."

Jason kisses you, hot and hard, and then he seems to steel himself, shifting into whatever Gotham needs him to be. He puts his helmet on and brushes your cheek, then disappears down the stairs to the Cave. You lean against the wall, catching your breath.

Maybe you'll put your poster back up. 

[indulgentdaydream]

Can you write something where the reader is badly injured in some way and jason rushes her to the manor for help and everybody is confused on who she is bc they didnt even know he was in a relationship (despite them being together for awhile) but they see how soft and cute he is with her. (I’ve never made a request so sorry if it got kinda rambley)

anon you’ve got me TEEMING with ideas I LOVE the trope of nobody knowing jason has a girlfriend and they find out but it is NOT by Jason’s choice nor reader’s.

Also omg? Your first ask is to lil ol me?? That means this is a special occassion. And you’re doing great I’ve def sent worse asks.

Out of the Bag

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader || Hurt and Comfort.

Word Count: 1,862

Warnings: Injuries, swearing, near death experience, blood, knife mention, stabbing, canon-typical violence, use of pet names (princess, baby), drug (pain med) use

You were sat in an alleyway, vision going in and out.

“Tell me something, princess. Anything.” Jason’s voice rang out in your ear.

That’s right. In your right hand, you held your phone, to your ear. Your other hand was pressing the fabric of your coat to the side of your stomach. The blood had soaked through, becoming sticking on your palm and fingers.

You should’ve listened to Jason. You shouldn’t have walked home alone, at night. Luckily your phone had been in your pocket and not your purse, which had been stolen from you by the same guy who decided to stab you.

“Princess,” he sounded panicked.

Right. “Wish I had kicked him harder.”

You heard a sigh of relief leave him, “That’s my girl.”

The phone slipped from your grip a little as your head swam. The sight of blood coming from your own abdomen made no help in quelling your nausea.

You fixed the phone. You had called Jason the second the guy ran off, leaving you to bleed out. He was driving, you think. Tracking your phone to try and get to you. “How far?”

He said something you didn’t hear. Your vision was swimming, your side was aching, and you couldn’t help but keep this funny understanding out of your mind that you were dying.

That this is something Jason had come back to your apartment with a few times, claiming it was nothing. It was something.

You heard him call your name, “What’s around you?”

“I’m tired,” you mumbled.

It seemed to happen in a blink of an eye. Jason was trying to tell you to stay awake, to look at the alley around you. To look out towards the street and tell him what you saw. Then he was there, standing in front of you, his helmet hiding his face.

“I’m here. I’m here, baby.” He cupped your face, tapping your cheek to get you to open up your eyes. He crouched down, pulling your hand from your side to assess the damage.

You smiled lazily and leaned forward, resting your forehead against his shoulder.

Jason muttered a slew of swears as he pressed something soft yet hard against your agonizing wound. You let out a yelp before Jason was picking you up, placing you on his bike.

He’s talking fast, “Fuck. Okay, listen to me. We’re going to go somewhere new, okay? There’s nowhere around here except there for me to get you safe.”

You passed out nearly as soon as he started the bike.

Jason’s freaking. He had tried to keep you safe from anything like this. From everything less than this. And here you were, bleeding out in his arms as he carried you through the batcave. He beelined for the cots and the medical supplies off to the side. He knows his motorcycle couldn’t have been the smoothest of rides for someone in your condition, but it’s all he had in such a short time span.

He’ll apologize when you wake up.

When. He repeats. When she wakes up and when we can get the hell out of this place again and when I can remind her I love her.

No one was back from patrol yet. He set you down on the cot before tearing off his helmet. He tossed it aside, pulling out a med bag and ripping it open. He pushed up your shirt, examining your side and where he had placed the military-grade gauze pad. He curses at the amount of blood.

His hands are shaking. Jason’s hands don’t shake, but you’ve proven to him a lot of things you could make him do that he hadn’t known he was capable of in the last year and (almost) a half of your relationship.

Jason nearly drops the suture thread before another hand is reaching out from just behind him. It catches the thread and Jason looks back over his shoulder. Alfred’s there, moving up to you.

“Allow me. You keep checking her vitals.”

Jason hadn’t even heard him come up. He’s nodding, stepping back to let Alfred take over the stitching. He moves to the other side of the bed.

That’s when he catches sight of the dark figure moving closer from behind Alfred. Jason immediately fixes him with a deadly glare, pointing at Bruce, “Do not come closer!”

Bruce stills. He’s in his bat suit, his cowl hanging behind his head, exposing his face. He looks down to your body, “Who is she?”

Jason doesn’t want him here. Rather, he doesn’t want to be here. You should’ve been home by now. Getting ready for bed and sending him a goodnight text. He turns his gaze back to you.

There’s some hair across your face that he hadn’t noticed. He moves it out of your way without a second thought, “My girlfriend.”

“Finally feel some remorse for sending someone to their grave, Todd?” Damian’s voice spoke up, walking up and stopping beside Bruce, “He’s probably trying to just reverse what he did.”

Jason ignores him. He wants to yell, scream, and maybe shoot the little bastard, but he was right. In a way, this was his fault. He didn’t look after you. He should’ve offered you a ride. Called you a taxi. An uber. Anything.

Jason grips your hand into his. It’s a way to count your heartbeat, and another way to ground himself. To reassure that you’ll be okay. His other hand stays on your cheek. His thumb gently moves back and forth, stroking your skin.

He barely registers Bruce telling Damian to go wash up. When the brat is gone, Bruce speaks up again, “What happened?”

Jason doesn’t take his eyes off of you, “She was walking home from her friend’s. A mugger got her purse, she fought back. He stabbed her.” Jason takes a deep breath, “She still had her phone. She called me. I brought her here because it was closest.”

A beat of silence. Still stitching you up, Alfred speaks, “How come we’ve never been introduced?”

Jason shakes his head, “I didn’t want her near any of this. She’s bad off enough sticking with me.”

Once you stabilize, Jason brings you up to his room in the manor. He walks past Dick, Tim, Duke, Cass, and Steph without looking at them. They sit around the batcomputer, watching Jason gently carry you out ot the cave.

He changes you out of your dirty clothes once he makes a run back to your apartment to grab you some of your own spare clothes.

Asides from that, he doesn’t leave your side.

He lets you have the bed to yourself. He pulls up a chair beside it, waiting for you to wake up. He didn’t want you to be alone when you did, in a strange place after a traumatic event. It was a recipe for disaster.

The sun’s been up for a long while and Jason hasn’t budged. He sits there, your hand gripped in both of his, held up and pressed against his mouth. His lips brush over your knuckles whenever he speaks up. Uttering a “I’m sorry.” every now and then.

There’s a light knock at the door before it’s cracking open. Jason turns his head to find Dick poking his head in. Jason glares at him.

Dick steps further in, presenting the tray he was holding. There were two glasses of water, some solid foods, and lighter ones, probably for you. Jason looked back down at you, letting his older brother enter.

“Just… figured since you’ve been cooped up in here all day,” Dick begins, setting the tray down on the beside table beside Jason.

Dick moves back around. He stands at the end of the bed, leaning against the tall bed post that was meant to hold up a canopy. “I heard…” he trails off, before nodding and your body in the bed, still unconscious, “Who is she?”

Jason looks up at his brother, not letting go of your hand, “So you haven’t heard.”

Dick rolls his eyes, “You know what I mean.”

Jason raises his brows a little. He looks back down at you. His hand reaches out to brush along your forehead, moving away imaginary stray hairs, “My girl.”

Dick nods in understanding, “How long you two been together.”

Jason pauses in thought, “Over a year. Our anniversary was in December.”

A small, choked sound comes from outside the door, in the hallway. “A year?”

Jason looks up at Dick, who makes a face that shows he’s knows he’s been caught.

“Are they seriously listening right now?”

Steph poked her head in first, an apologetic smile on her face, “We wanted to know!”

Duke pokes his head in next, just above Steph’s, “And we wanted to meet her.”

Tim’s head in next, above Duke’s, “You can’t carry a random bleeding woman into the cave and expect the family of detectives to not be curious.”

Cass’ head appears below Steph’s. She nods in agreement.

Jason let’s one hand go of yours to wave his hand through the air, “What the fuck? She’s not even awake!”

“Well that’s why we sent Dick as bait.”

“For the record,” Dick held up a finger, “They built off of my original, innocent idea of bringing you snacks.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jason stands up, taking a few steps forward. He points them all back towards the door as they start to filter into the room, “Get—“

“What’s going on…?”

Jason’s whole body whipped back around at the sound of your groggy, rough voice. The others watch as he’s back at your side in a millisecond, his whole demeanour changed. “Hey, you’re okay. Everything’s okay. Remember how I said we were going somewhere new? You thirsty, baby? Here, I got you some water.”

“Oh, you certainly did not get the water,” Dick piped up.

Jason glared back over his shoulder as he held the glass of water for you, keeping the straw Dick had added placed in your mouth.

You stopped drinking, your eyes now on the other people in the room. You turned your head, propped up against pillows Jason had put there for you. You weakly raised your left hand to wave, “Hi… oh?” your gaze turned down to your hand. A heart monitor clip sitting on your finger grabbed your attention. You gave a confused pout at it, “I feel funny.”

Jason set the water aside again. His glare was gone. He leaned in, kissing your forehead, “You’re hopped up on pain meds. That’s why, princess.”

“Damn,” Steph spoke up, “I wish I got the literal princess treatment.”

Jason turned back around, pointing out the door, “Get. Out. Leave my girlfriend alone until she’s better.”

You looked at the strangers, pointing at Jason with your left hand, “I’m his girlfriend.” Your head tilted back against the pillows as you stared up at Jason, pursing your lips, "I’m tired.”

“I know,” Jason said softly. The others began to filter out of the room as he leaned down and gave you a soft kiss, this time on the lips.

From the exit, a collective, “Awwww,” sounded out.

“Out!”

Your drugged up voice came after his, once they were all back in the hall, “Nice to meet you!”

[strangepoppy]

She is too nice, no it's not "nice to meet you"! Noisy shits.

"I am his girlfriend", 😆 she is establishing boundaries.

[ellecdc]

the pilot - Pretty Woman

cw: discussion of experienced transphobia, discussion of someone else's homophobia, the Black Family, writers poor understanding of UK politics, mature themes and discussion of full service sex work

link to series masterlist

“Absolutely bloody fucking not, are you out of your mind?” 

“Cas, please.” You begged as you followed your roommate out of her room and into the kitchen.

“You have plenty of bags, why do you need to borrow mine?” She grumbled as she flicked on the kettle. 

“The room is booked at the Ritz, Cas; I cannot walk in with my fraying duffle.” 

Her movements paused as she turned to look at you incredulously. “The Ritz? Fucking hells, babe, where’d you find this guy?”

You shrugged your shoulders helplessly. “He found me.”

“Blimey…if he has enough money to throw around for a casual stay at a hotel like that and-”

“Me.” You finished for her. “I know…I- I’d like it to go well, in case…”

“In case he decides to book again.” 

You nodded solemnly at Dorcas who continued staring at you, only looking away when her water came to a boil. 

“Fine. Fine…okay, you can borrow my Prada bag.”

You squealed as you hugged your friend from behind as she prepared her tea, ignoring her grumbling on account of the pleased smile she had on her face.

“Thank you, Cas. Really…this….this could be good for us, yeah?”

Her face softened as she turned to look at you as you backed towards her bedroom to retrieve her bag; guilt, grief and hope intermingling in her eyes as she nodded at you. 

*ೃ༄.ೃ࿐

Your cheap heels clicked across along the marble floor which reflected the lights like diamonds under the many crystal chandeliers hanging on the high ceilings. You were wearing your most expensive jacket, but you still felt horribly out of place; you weren’t exactly wearing a whole lot underneath it (everything was going to be coming off shortly anyway…), and you were delusional enough to feel like everyone in the lobby was somehow onto you.

This late into the evening, most guests were dressed to the nines as they made their way to casinos and orchestras; cocktail dresses and more than a few tuxedos painting your vision in every direction you looked. You couldn’t get to the elevator quickly enough, though you were forced to spend the ride up staring at your reflection ad infinitum on account of the parallel mirrors in every direction.

Fifth floor, room 522. 

The room itself had its own miniature chandelier hanging above the room number illuminating it in the hall. You looked back at the text on your phone to confirm you were at the right place.

Great! Looking forward to seeing you: room 522 on the 5th floor

You’d had high paying clients before – men who could afford to spend their money on sex – but not like this, never like this.

You suddenly felt incredibly nervous and hoped you could make a good impression; if he was pleasant, you’d be more than happy to have him as a repeat client.

You’ve been through worse.

You took one last look through your borrowed bag to make sure you had your essentials, as well as your ID and taser in case of emergencies, before taking a deep breath and knocking gently; cautious of the hall of other rooms who may be winding down for the evening and not wanting to draw attention to what was very clearly an escort.

Please let this go well.

“Okay, so, explain to me again why you couldn’t just hire an actress or some theatre student?” James asked as he rubbed painfully at his temples.

Sirius groaned and threw his head back. “Because James; an actress will have a portfolio – a history - that my family can dig into. They’ll also have dreams of pursuing other acting jobs after this one. I need someone nondescript, unheard of, and not going anywhere so that my mother and her cronies can’t poke holes into our story.”

“Same reason he can’t use a friend.” Regulus added from his place on a tufted chair in the luxurious hotel room currently being paid for by his and Sirius’ family.

“Right. Mother and everyone will know if I’m using a friend, or an acquaintance and it will point back to this larger scheme.” Sirius agreed readily.

“But wouldn’t it make more sense if you had met your new fiancé through a friend?” Remus questioned.

“Sure. If my friends weren’t the two of you, Lily, and Marlene.” Sirius added simply.

“I just don’t understand how we jumped straight to prostitution.” James muttered.

“Look,” Sirius levelled, “I’ve thought about this long and hard. I’ve also discussed this with Andromeda and our Uncle Alphard, and they both agree this is the best way to go. Our family won’t have any reason to have met our prostitute unless they themselves have hired a prostitute, and this girl is supposed to be from the opposite end of town, so I doubt there’d have been any overlap anyways. She also won’t have much of a background for them to dig into – and she’d be hard to get to if they tried.”

“Why would she be hard to get to?”

Remus grimaced and answered James for him. “Prostitutes often have pimps, James. Men that...organise the contact for the girls. Sirius would have had to go through one to find this girl.”

“I thought that was a myth?” Regulus interjected, but Remus shook his head.

“It’s estimated that approximately 65-85% of prostitution is pimp-dominated.”

“So, some guy sold her to you?” James asked incredulously.

“Sort of...I guess.” Sirius admitted.

James groaned and looked at the ceiling “I hate this.”

“This is the beginning of the end, James. We’re taking the Black’s down once and for all; they won’t be able to hurt any of us ever again.” Sirius lamented, his eyes moving from James towards his younger brother at the end of the sentence.

Regulus nodded at his brother before there was a gentle knock on the door.

“Well boys, show time.” James said as he stood from his seat and moved to answer the door.

Sirius wrung his hands nervously as he heard James greet you at the door, sharing nervous looks with Remus and Regulus who both sat up straighter.

“-get you anything? There’s a full bar here, you can help yourself to whatever you want.” James was saying, though Sirius could almost hear your grin and polite shake of your head.

“I’m alright thanks, I’m not-”

But the second you stepped into the suite's living room you fell silent and looked at the three boys in horror; Sirius realised what he’d done wrong too little too late.

Both Remus and Regulus stood to greet you, and you pulled your bag into your chest and stepped back so quickly that the picture frame on the wall you slammed into shook. 

“It’s okay, we-”

“What is this?” You whispered overtop of Sirius, eyes darting nervously between the four men now all standing with their hands raised in placation, though Sirius felt as though it likely had the opposite effect. 

“Fuck this looks bad, doesn’t it?” James muttered nervously.

“Shut up, James.” 

“What is this?” You repeated a little louder.

“Y/N, right? My name is Sirius, love. I’m the one you spoke with on the phone.” Sirius offered as calmly as he could muster. “I’m sorry we surprised you, but I promise you’re okay, this isn’t what it looks like.”

“We just want to talk.” Remus added, and you let out a hysterical laugh.

“You hired an escort to chat?” You deadpanned, and Sirius’ noticed your eyes turning glassy in your panic.

“Okay, okay. Hang on, just…” Sirius started, moving in slow motion as he stepped towards the side table his wallet was sitting on whilst holding your eye contact the entire time. “Look, this is the price we agreed upon, right?” He asked, only breaking your eye contact to count the bills out in his hands as he inched closer to you. “You can take this right now and leave if you want, but-” he continued, fanning out the rest of the cash he’d withdrawn, “It’s tripled if you stay and just hear us out.”

You looked at him in pure discombobulation as he placed the agreed upon sum in your hand and closed your grip around it for you before backing away slowly. 

“Sit, please; we can order room service, you can help yourself to anything from the bar. Just…hear us out.” Remus offered as he gestured towards one of the wingback chairs. 

You swallowed thickly and let your gaze drift over the four men again; Remus who was looking at you pleadingly, Regulus who looked very pained on your behalf, James who looked very embarrassed by this whole misunderstanding, and Sirius who was looking at you like you were his only hope. 

“This…it’s not-?”

“No. No, there’s…no. No sex, nothing funny, just…a sales pitch.” He offered awkwardly. 

You scanned the room again, and though your knuckles were no longer white, you were still hugging your bag tight against your body.

“Can I take your jacket?” James offered, taking a step towards him. You simply looked at him before your gaze fell to the rather informal clothes everyone else was wearing.

“Do you have something more comfortable to wear in your bag?” Remus offered, obviously reading your worry for what it was as you nodded at him. 

“The washroom is right there, if you wanted to change? Or…if you wanted to call a cab.” Sirius offered. You nodded at him before disappearing through the door and locking it behind you. 

“Fucking smooth, Sirius.” Regulus muttered as he sat back down with a dramatic sigh. 

“Well I don’t fucking know, Reg! I’ve not exactly done this before, either.”

“That could have been bad.”

“Well we don’t know if she’s going to agree or not so it still could be bad.” Remus countered.

“I don’t think I can stomach having to hire another one.” Sirius muttered as they heard the door to the bathroom click. 

You exited, still looking nervous but you were no longer wearing your jacket which Sirius took as a good sign.

You were wearing a pair of well fitting jeans and a black turtleneck with a pair of black heeled boots - classic and nondescript. You looked put together enough, but like you wouldn’t draw attention to yourself. Though, Sirius figured a girl as pretty as you was likely to garner a few stares regardless of what you were wearing. 

That was probably good for business, which reminded Sirius why you were here. 

“Are you hungry? Do you want to order something to eat? Anything to drink?”

“No, thank you.” You replied as you accepted the chair Remus was gesturing for you to sit in. You allowed James to take your jacket, but kept your bag in your lap. 

“Water?” Regulus asked, and you finally managed to make eye contact with one of them.

“I have a bottle of water, thank you.” 

That seemed…fair, Sirius supposed. He guessed you were used to spending time in the company of rather predatory men.

“Okay, so, I’m really sorry about the confusion, but the reason I hired you is that I was hoping for your help.” Sirius said as he hooked up his laptop to the TV and started his slideshow. 

“You did not actually make a presentation.” James snorted, causing Sirius to look at him nonplussed.

“Of course I didn’t.” He responded simply, blushing only when he turned to notice you were looking at him with one raised eyebrow. “Regulus made it.”

“Someone had to.”

“This really is a sales pitch?” You asked almost disbelievingly; the ghost of a smirk on your lips. 

“Okay, well, if everyone would shut up, I’d get on with it.” Sirius chided with a smile, glad that you were relaxing enough to at least chuckle lightly at his expense. 

And Sirius told you.

He told you that his name was Sirius Black, that he came from the rather ignoble Black dynasty that had their claws (and more importantly, their heavily lined pockets) deeply entrenched in the rightwing government; currently backing the particularly problematic Tom Riddle who was running for Prime Minister. He explained that he’d run away from home at only 16 to live with James and his family due to the abuse and hostility his parents held, and how he could not support what they stood for. However, when his younger brother came out as trans to his parents - his parents who were now relying on their only remaining child to continue their legacy and help paint a picture of themselves as the proper, wholesome political family they pretended to be - they were desperate to play damage control. 

They promised to leave Regulus alone - they’d have nothing to do with him, but they wouldn’t publicly shame him - if Sirius played nice. Nice, meaning living a respectable, traditional lifestyle. This meant that Sirius and Remus had been dating behind closed doors for almost eight years now whilst Remus worked as Sirius’ personal assistant, and Sirius pretended he wasn’t in contact with his younger sibling should the press ask. 

His parents folded at Sirius’ friendship with James and Marlene, simply because no one would be able to explain away Sirius and James’ nearly lifelong friendship (he’d lived with his family for Christ’s sake), and even the Black’s understood the power in having ties with other wealthy and powerful families like the Potter’s and MacKinnon’s, even if their politics didn’t align with their own. 

“How does this all involve me?” You asked then, surprising Sirius out of his well rehearsed schpiel to find your eyes trained on him. 

“Right, so…my parents are tired of my bachelor lifestyle.”

“It doesn’t paint a very traditional picture to have the heir to a powerful family pushing 30 and still living in a bachelor pad with his unmarried mate and employee.” Remus offered dryly. 

“They want you to find a girlfriend.” You deduced.

“They want me to find a wife.” Sirius corrected. 

“And that’s…me?” You asked around a chuckle, your smile falling when you realised no one was laughing with you. “Oh my god…”

“I’ve told them I’ve been seeing someone for quite some time now, but didn’t want to bring them into this world until I was sure about them - until I was sure they weren’t ‘just after the family money’.” Sirius explained solemnly. “They want me to make it official, and they want me to start bringing you around.” 

“Around…”

“Events; galas, fundraisers, press opportunities. The likes.” Regulus explained flippantly. 

“Right…” You offered in monotone. “And you want to show up to galas, fundraisers, and press opportunities with a hooker?” 

James turned to give Sirius a look that seemed to read ‘see?’, but Remus responded first.

“Well…we were sort of hoping he could show up with you.” Remus corrected gently. You seemed surprised and more than a tad confused at Remus’ apparent defence of you. 

“They’re terrible people, Y/N.” Sirius blurted. “They are terrible and they stand for terrible things. They put all of their money into anti LGBTQIA+ propaganda and organisations, they actively work towards harming a large portion of UK citizens, they want to reverse any progress the country has made in reproductive healthcare and women’s rights, they’re trying to ban fucking children’s books, I-”

“Then why play along? Why play nice, as you said? Marrying an escort seems like a very dramatic way to keep your brother out of the limelight.” You argued.

“Clever girl.” Regulus murmured as he leaned further back into his chair. 

“Family inheritance.” Sirius offered plainly. “I have access to use family money, but do not have access to direct family money. Not until I fulfil the requirements of my inheritance.”

“The requirements being an approved heterosexual wedding.” James filled in. 

“Regulus is no longer entitled to his sum of the inheritance after my parents disowned him.” Sirius continued. “But that means that, should I be successful, I would inherit both of our portions.”

“Which would make Sirius the primary shareholder in the Black estates.” Regulus continued. 

“Meaning you’d have final say over allocation of funds…” You finished for him. 

“You are clever.” Remus agreed with Regulus’ earlier sentiments. You turned bashful and looked down at your lap to avoid having to look at any of them, Sirius found himself smiling at the top of your head. 

“And I just…play along?” You asked then.

“You’ll be paid - handsomely - any time you’re with any of us. And once I have access to the estate, you’ll be given a portion of it.”

“It’s no small sum, either.” Regulus assured you. 

“I will make sure it is well worth your time, Y/N.” Sirius promised. 

He let that sit in the air as he moved towards the bar and poured himself a drink before picking up his wallet. “And here.” He added as he handed you the other portion of the cash he’d taken out for you.

“What?”

“I promised you triple if you heard us out; you’ve heard us out.” He responded simply as he took a seat beside Remus. 

You fanned out the bills in front of you like you couldn’t believe your eyes; you weren’t counting them, necessarily, but proving to yourself it was real. 

“They’re terrible?” You asked then, but when Sirius looked up, he could see you were asking Regulus. 

“Awful.” Regulus murmured, eyes staring unseeingly at the coffee table in front of him as James placed a comforting hand on his knee. “Honestly, I’m…scared; not necessarily for myself, I mean, I know I’m safe and have people in my corner, but…there are so many people out there like me who don’t and…”

You nodded in understanding as Regulus trailed off. 

“Okay.” You whispered as you folded up the money as best you could and put it in your bag before standing.

“Okay?” Sirius asked as he stood, too; quickly followed by Remus, James, and Regulus.

“Okay.” You repeated, nodding once to yourself before meeting Sirius’ gaze. “I’ll do it, I’ll…I’ll help.” 

Sirius felt a smile take over his face as he looked at you - his dame in shining armour for all intents and purposes - as you accepted your jacket from James. 

“Tell me what you need me to do, and I’ll do it; I’ll help.”

[ellecdc]

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSFMbHSqg/

I talk like this and people like to make fun of it because of it

Can I request for marauders to defend me and pampering me afterwards. Please, thanks

okay, first of all: people make fun of you? - what are their names? where do they live? tell them I wanna talk..... secondly: thank you for your quick requests after my post! you're my hero <3

poly!wolfstar x reader who has a distinct accent (reader's gender not specified)

CW: bullying, making fun of someone's dialect/speech, swearing, pet names.

You knew there was a chance that the laughter was not at your expense at all. Perhaps they were actually laughing at what you said, not how you said it. Or, perhaps they hadn't even been listening to you at all. But your throat still constricted painfully when you heard the girls a few seats down the table in the Great Hall from you start laughing after you interjected in your boyfriends' conversation.

The girls had been particularly catty with you before, though you weren't entirely sure why; perhaps it was because you were dating two of the most popular boys in school, perhaps it was because you were different, or perhaps it was because that's just the kind of people they were.

You'd heard them make comments about your accent before, and though it was a bit of an insecurity of yours, you tried to let it slide off of your back.

You just didn't understand what the big deal was - especially considering you were attending school in the United Kingdom for heaven's sake; if you drive 30 minutes in any direction, the accent of that region is going to be different!

People in England speak English with a variation of a British accent; people in North America speak English with a variation of an American accent; people in Ireland speak English with an Irish accent; and people from your mother country speak English with their own accent too!

So why was it you who was teased for your inflection?

"You okay, Y/N?" Peter asked you quietly from his place across from you. He may as well have shouted it, however, as the sound of your name with the company of any concern acted like a siren call for your two boyfriends, both of whom immediately dropped their conversation with Marlene and James to turn to you.

"What is it, dolly?" Sirius asked immediately, noticing the slight shine of your eyes. You tried to smile at him and shake your head; you did not want to make a big deal out of this.

"Dovey," Remus chided as he gently nudged you with his elbow. "What's the matter?"

Your eyes inadvertently flit to the girls down the table before you turned back to your boyfriends and Sirius' eyes darkened.

"Did they say something to you?" He asked gruffly.

"No! No, please, I'm fine." You begged.

The sound of voices mimicking your pronunciation permeated the air as they repeated your words.

"Oi!" Remus called harshly - so completely unlike his usual calm demeanour.

"What the hell is your problem?" Sirius added.

The girls, not showing any signs of shame waved the boys off "oh come on, it was just a joke! Y/N knows that."

"You're right, you are a fucking joke." Sirius spat as he stood from the table and gathered his book bag. "Come on dollface, we're leaving."

Remus stood as well and helped you from your place at the table. Your face was so hot from embarrassment and the blood rushing to your head left a ringing in your ears. As you left the hall, you failed to notice the shouting from James, Marlene and the others in your defence.

The first few tears fell as you were ushered to Gryffindor tower. Neither boy said anything as you walked - Sirius clearly trying to shake off his rage for your benefit, and Remus keeping a steadying hand on the small of your back the whole way there.

By the time you got to the boys dorm, Sirius let out a shuddering breath as he dropped his bag and turned to you as he opened his arms.

"Come 'ere sweets." he called to you, and you immediately fell into his waiting embrace.

Remus followed up behind you and soon, you were in the middle of a Sirius-Remus sandwich as they rubbed soothingly at your sides and peppered kisses on your head.

"You know they're wankers, right?" Remus finally asked.

You snorted at him before nodding against Sirius' chest.

"We love your voice, and your accent, and your jokes. We can't get enough of it, baby." Sirius added.

"Stop." You moaned.

"It's true!" Remus interjected, before Sirius continued.

"Honest, I almost told James to shut his fucking mouth 'cause I couldn't hear my sweet lovie over all of his yapping. You're always on me about being rude, though, so I bit my tongue. You're welcome."

You chuckled at that, and you swore could feel both boys smile above you.

"There you are; I missed that sound." Remus said, punctuated by a kiss to your temple.

"I have some studying to do, but I was wondering if you could read my textbook to me while I took notes?" Sirius asked you. You looked up expecting to see a smirk on his face but were surprised to see a faint blush dusting his cheeks and a shy smile on his mouth.

"Wait, really?" You asked incredulously.

He huffed a laugh but held strong. "Yes, really! I wasn't kidding; I love the sound of your voice."

"Maybe later you can read my novel to me too?" Remus asked shyly from behind you.

You couldn't help but laugh at the two of them. Whether they were just appeasing you or not, you couldn't help but admit the sound of you reading to them for the rest of the afternoon sounded really nice.

[prongsx]

who are your boyfriend?

Even though you talk a lot about your sweet boyfriend, people don't understand the sign.

Warnins: English is not my first language, there will probably be mistakes, I'm more grammatically correct in my language I swear lol, f!reader, just a silly idea I had.

You're a person who talks a lot about your boyfriend, not that it's your intention to show him off or look like you're obsessed with him (maybe a little), but still, it seems inevitable to quote Jason Todd in your social circles, especially in the work.

It's a good work environment, your colleagues are nice, and you like to be communicative. However, the new co-worker, Adam, seems to be a little too friendly, your colleagues have already noticed this, but you dont notice this, lost in your own thoughts about your boyfriend.

The thing is, Adam has concluded that your boyfriend is an idiot, he listens to you talking about him, and the only conclusion he can draw is that you're dating a stupid nerd who lives in his mother's basement. It started weeks ago when you arrived with a jar of colorful cookies, offering it to your colleagues with a silly smile and saying.

"Jaybean did, does anyone want it? It's his grandfather's recipe"

Adam laughed internally at that. It wasn't right, you were too pretty to date such a weird guy who was definitely supposed to be short, skinny and silly, what kind of man cooked colored cookies? Or even worse, let yourself be called a "jaybean"?

The next day, he overheard you talking to your friend, in a worried tone, about how your boyfriend was about having physically fought with his younger brother, which only added to the comical image Adam had of his boyfriend. Definitely the guy was a banana. What kind of guy would let his little brother hit him?

Around the football season, Adam decided to show you what a real man was and ask you out, showing you the tickets he got. He called you a doll, which you registered with a slight frown.

"um, thanks Adam, but my boyfriend doesn't like football very much. And this week we're going to an arts fair in New York."

Adam let out a stilted giggle that you didn't seem to notice, the thoughts of him again calling your boyfriend stupid. Seriously, art fair? Didn't like sports?

There were other, clearer signs of how pathetic your boyfriend was, according to Adam, like when you commented that he had sewn a blouse of yours. (you didn't say that Jaosn's talent with sewing came from the fact that he sewed his battle wounds himself). Or when you called him cute nicknames.

Adam wanted to show you what he really wanted to date a guy, a real man, who had muscuslos and knew how to beat someone to protect you.

The fuse for Adam was when he approached your desk and saw a book by Jane Austen and asked, avoiding making a face at such a syrupy book.

"Do you like classics, doll?"

You looked up from the computer where you typed, a slight smile on your lips as you stared at the book brevmenete.

"A little. My boyfriend likes it, so I promised I'd try to read it. I prefer fiction books"

Adam's face drooped, you were really dating a stupid guy, you deserved to meet a real man. He rested his hands on your desk and puffed out his chest.

"You know, doll, you can get more."

You blinked your eyes limply, confused.

"Excuse me?"

"There are men… for real."

There was an arrogant smile on Adam, which you didn't like, not at all. Your posture became tense, prepared to reject him, by hook or by crook. But a voice, hoarse and thick, woke you both from the uncomfortable exchange of looks.

"Am I getting in the way?"

Adam turned, his eyes narrowing at the sight. There was a tall guy, much taller than himself, who even in a leather jacket could see his muscles. The guy had messy black hair and scars that gave him a tough look, even his blue eyes seemed like a warning, a warning to stay away. Adam was about to ask what he was doing there when your voice came out loud and contented.

"Jaybird!"

Adam stood still, his mouth wide open as that intimidating man gave you a soft smile and squeezed your waist, a chaste kiss on the forehead. By no means was that guy stupid of your boyfriend.

"That's adam," you said, a half-annoyed expression on my face, which softened when she turned her eyes to Jason.

Jason just gave Adam a suspicious look, not bothering to spend time with him before grabbing your bag and giving you another kiss on the cheek, whispering.

"Ready to go, honey?"

You nodded, smiling. Saying goodbye with a slight nod to Adam, as you told for your sweet, gentle boyfriend about your day, whose acts were what really drew you in.

Just a silly thing I thought about while analyzing the things that betrayed me about Jason. Adam is just one of those guys who think women are attracted to things that – they – think should attract them. Jason is just a grandpa's little boy who has learned how to be a gentleman right under that rough surface.

[mistys-x-reader-emporium]

Harry Potter verse masterlist

Marauders era

Bruised Violets (Sirius Black x Potter! Reader)

Golden trio era

[mistys-x-reader-emporium]

Bruised violets (Sirius Black)

Pairing: Sirius Black x Potter! Reader (Jame's sibling)

Rating: T

Fandom: Harry potter/ the marauders

Warnings: implied/ referenced abuse, injuries

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know.

-------

You like to think that very few things can surprise you these days, between your friend group, prank wars, and an interest in healing- you've seen a lot.

And usually? You're right, most things don't surprise you.

But when you hear a knock on your bedroom door - well, you know something is wrong.

You look up from your book and put your notes aside. "What's up?"

James cracks your door and sticks his head in. He looks scared. "Mom needs you to come downstairs... It's Sirius."

"What?!"

You're on your feet before you can register the words.

"He's run away."

"Oh merlin." You manage with a frown.

James steps aside and you rush past him and down your stairs to the living room. Each step sounds far away and you can barley fathom the passage of time.

Sirius is here. Something is wrong. You're almost positive he's hurt.

(You almost think he's holding something, but that detail is lost to your emotions.)

Your mother kneels over a shaking human form that is slumped in the floor. And your heart shatters.

"Sirius?!" You call, skidding to a stop beside Ephie.

"He's- unconscious... It's a miracle he made it here." Ephie says gently, her eyes clouded as she works on healing him via old wandless magic taught in your family.

"Let me help." You say as you fall to your knees beside her.

You hold your hands out and focus everything you have- everything you have ever had- into healing.

You imagine an unseen hand mending every wrong Sirius has experience. How he will smile at you later.

And you don't feel the tears until you've shaking.

Monty sets a hand on your shoulder, "He's going to he okay. He's healed. He just needs rest, darling."

You look up at Monty, and you can't make words come out.

Ephie stands, and picks Sirius up. "I'll put him to bed."

You watch as your mother takes Sirius up the stairs and to a guest room- but you stay downstairs. You need a minute to breathe.

You are almost positive about what's happened. You know who did this. And you have go remind yourself that you should not go make sure that Walaburga pays.

But the wrath you feel at the knowledge that Sirius is hurt and his mother has caused it... well, it's certainly there.

-------

Sirius wakes up with an ache all over, and someone's arms holding him close. Their face is in his chest, and he can’t imagine who woukd be so close to him.

He blinks away the sleep and then looks down to find you.

Oh.

You're the one holding him - he vaugley remembers your panicked face over him last night.

Sirius readjusts so that he's holding you too.

"(Y/n)." He croaks out, voice only half working.

You stiffen at first. After a moment you look up, finding his face healed. "Sirius?"

"Thank you." He says softly.

"Of course- I'd do anything for you." You say, and the words are frighteningly true.

Sirius just presses a kiss to the crown of your head. Words aren't exactly coming easily to him.

But this feels right.

You just settle back down.

Both of you are happy just to hold eachother for now.

Later, Sirius will look for the violets he brought for you. But for now he's happy to be right here.

[viburnt]

Older brothers || Little things they do

Genre: Fluff

Type: Headcanons

Characters involved: Lucifer (Obey me!), Mammon (Obey me!), Leviathan (Obey me!)

Prompt: Little things they do to communicate with you.

Lucifer

• Lucifer is gifted when it comes to music, that is no secret. He adores his piano and takes great care of it.

• Part of him feels like he can express the feelings inside his chest better that way: sadness, anger, love; a key for each one of his emotions.

• One subtle thing he did, and that perhaps took you time to notice, was leaving the door of his studio open for you while he played.

• You'd walk by and listen, not coincidentally, to your favorite melody turned into a beautiful piano tune.

• Lucifer would notice you curiously peeking through the door and smile, pretending as if he hadn't seen you.

• The small sounds of amazement that escaped your mouth and the little claps you'd give to cheer on him were more than enough to make him happy.

• This demon also takes a look at your music playlist while you are not looking, so he can learn the scores.

• Piano is his way to say “I'm here for you, come closer.”

Mammon

• The second oldest has the soul of a crow trapped on his pretty little bubble head. He likes shiny and glittery things, valuable stuff; his sin is greed, after all.

• He hoards all kinds of items that catch his eye: Golden coins, silver jewelry, gemstones. Of course, it's a small loot, and he hides it very well from his brothers.

• Once he considers his treasure is worthy enough- it never is to his standards, but he tries – he puts it in a small cardboard box and leaves it on your bed.

• The first couple times it happened, you were a little confused. Mammon would only stammer something along the lines of “For you, dumb human” and leave, trying to- unsuccessfully- hide his flushed face.

• After a while, you started a small collection of the many things the demon gave you. It became a little game; you'd sort them out by color, size, and material.

• If you decide to wear a piece of jewelry from “Mammon's awesome treasure” (as he called it), he gets all goofy and dumb, boasting about it.

• If he notices you staring at an item a little too long at a store, he steals it buys it for you. He could be drowning in debt and still get you pretty gifts.

• Giving you shiny stuff is Mammon's way of saying “All of mine is yours too”. However, the meaning of his action also implies “No matter what, you are still more valuable than these things.”

Leviathan

• Leviathan, much like Mammon, can be qualified as a hoarder. The only difference between them would be, perhaps, that Levi tries to keep his stuff tidy and organized.

• We all know he is into anime and manga, so it's not uncommon for him to be reading or binge-watching his favorite series.

• A thing he does for you, even if it may seem like a burden to him, is that he always explains to you the plot of his anime. Like, he genuinely believes that if he manages to make you understand, you'll feel less weirded out by his weeabo self.

• It's not like his eagerness for these things bothers you, you find it kind of cute, but it'd be a lie to say that you understand what he talks about all the time.

• So you'd sit close to him, watching him read/watch his stuff in silence, and lean your head on his shoulder. Almost like a switch, he'd pause the episode or interrupt his lecture to tell you in great detail “How the protagonist sucks because he is overpowered”, etc.

• He felt closer to you that way, you were a haven for an introvert like him, so he'd really try to keep you around.

• Another thing he does is that, whenever you knock on his door to hang out in his room, he always takes a little longer to open. It's not because he is nervous about you visiting, he just freaks out because he doesn't want you to see his special merch. Wouldn't want you to think you are a creep.

• This is Leviathan's way to say “I care about you, please stay a while. I need you by my side.” He accommodates his hobbies so that you can fit on them with ease; better with you than to be alone.

[mistys-x-reader-emporium]

Content directory

Harry Potter verse

More TBA

[mistys-x-reader-emporium]

Rules

Please remember that it takes time to write. If it rakes me a while, that dosen’t mean I'm ignoring you.

On the off chance you request something within the will write category that makes me uncomfortable, I'll let you know if I am not going to write it.

Will write

Most things really

Fluff

Angst

Hurt/comfort

Found family

Etc.

Won't write

NSFW (for that go see my NSFW x reader blog @)

Incest

Pedophilia

Yandre (I just don't know how to do it well)

[mistys-x-reader-emporium]

About me

Hi! I'm Misty

19

I'm a cancer

I've been writing since about 13

I LOVE animals

[mistys-x-reader-emporium]

Fandom list (a-z)

Addams Family

Bat family

DC

Fall out 4 (I'm playing through fo3 rn tho so that's coming soon)

Gilmore girls (I'm only halfway through season 4)

Marvel

Obey me! (Still working through both games)

Ninjago

Riordan verse

Red vs blue (haven't watched past chorus trilogy)

Star Trek (TOS, Lower decks, Strange new worlds)

The Owl house