You join the Teen Titans just as darkness begins swallowing the world.
With Trigon rising and the Justice League corrupted, who can you trust anymore in this Choose Your Own Adventure?
Teen Titans x Reader
Choose Your Own Adventure
🔗 READ/PLAY HERE
🎮interactive fanfic "𝑻𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝑻𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒔 𝑽𝑺 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝑳𝒆𝒂𝒈𝒖𝒆" by Cerf
📖 Episode 1 of ?
Summary: when Jaime leaves you waiting on him yet again, you find yourself wondering if you could ever matter to him as much as his work as Blue Beetle does
Word Count: 1k
Content/CW -> gn! reader, established relationship, angst, arguing, reader gets stood up, hurt/comfort in the end
— requested as part of my neglect week event <3
froggi yaps -> annnnd we're off :p everyone thank @/queen-of-gotham for giving me the idea to write for jaime in the first place (&check out her fics abt him!!) this takes place some time after graduation day <3 enjoy!
The warm summer air has long since dissipated, the cold wind of night taking over and yet, you’re still here, sitting on the roof of Jaime’s apartment building. The lights of Palmera City twinkle below you, a shimmering array of colours that only serve to remind you how alone you are.
Jaime was meant to meet you hours ago and yet here you are, sitting out in the cold alone. You frown, checking your phone for the umpteenth time. He didn’t even bother to text.
Another gust of wind has you shivering, crossing your arms over your chest to keep yourself warm. You know he’s out there doing something important, saving lives and protecting the city. You knew this going in—so why has it been so hard to understand lately?
You click your phone on again only to immediately turn it off. Five more minutes, you tell yourself, but you’ve been promising yourself that for hours and he’s yet to show.
A sigh passes through your lips like the cold night air. Why is dating a superhero so hard?
You’re just about to leave when you hear him come stumbling out of the door. “Sorry, sorry! I know I’m late, I know—”
You don’t perk up at the sound of his voice like you usually do. Instead, the weight in your chest only grows.
Jaime’s brow furrows at your silence. “Amor?”
You’re not quite sure what to say to him, your usual insistences of ‘it’s fine’ and ‘don’t worry about it’ feel heavy on your tongue. You dig your hands into the cement edges of the roof, eyes fluttering closed to enjoy the fresh air.
“Hey,” Jaime says quietly as he settles down next to you, the side of his thigh brushing yours. “I’m really sorry I’m late. Again.”
You nod, tight lipped and dead silence. Jaime’s grateful for the usual roar of Palmera traffic and the hustle and bustle of the street below, if only so it can cut through the deafening quiet between you.
He rests a gentle hand on your thigh. “Please don’t be mad at me.”
You finally force yourself to look up, to meet his eyes. He’s looking at you with only concern, head tilted to the side and lips pursed.
“I’m not—” You take a deep breath, trying to rationalize the thoughts racing through your mind, “I’m allowed to be upset, Jaime.”
“I-I know that.”
Anger rushes to your throat like bile, a torrent of emotions bubbling up inside you. “Do you realize how long I’ve been waiting for you?”
“Um,” he rubs the back of his neck, flashing that guilty smile that usually makes you forgive him but only serves to annoy you tonight. “A while?’
You shake your head, hot tears burning the backs of your eyes. Rising to your feet, you turn away from him. “You’re making jokes. You left me waiting here for hours and you’re making jokes.”
“Babe, it’s not—I’m not—”
You hear the sound of his shoes hitting the gravel of the roof, hear him heading towards you. He grabs your wrist softly, spinning you around to face him.
“I know what you do is really important, Jaime,” your voice catches on his name. “I just want to feel important sometimes, too.”
His hand travels up your wrist, fingers tangling with yours. “You are important, you’re everything to me.”
“It doesn’t feel like it.”
You break free from his grip, the cold air seeping into the warmth he left behind until there’s nothing left. You turn back around, sights set on your original path.
Jaime goes to reach for you again, to follow you until you’re willing to hear him out. It’s when his fingers are close to closing in on you that that familiar buzzing in his spine starts, Khaji Da speaking to him.
He’s distracted for a minute, but a minute is all it takes for you to escape.
You should’ve known Jaime wouldn’t leave the issue at that, his need to fix things always superseding your will to let them rest.
You’re wide awake when he slips through your widow, the latch unlocked for him the way it always is. He’s quiet coming in, footsteps soft and intentional when he lands inside your room.
You sit up in bed, flicking on your lamp. “Jaime?”
He cringes, “did I wake you?”
You shake your head. You hadn’t been able to sleep without him, anyways. Not for a lack of trying—you’d gotten up four separate times, gone pee, gotten water and watched an episode of tv and still, you couldn’t drift off.
“I know it’s late, I’m sorry.”
That seems to be the main word in his vocabulary lately.
He kicks off his shoes, neatly setting them in the corner of your room. “I couldn’t sleep either,” he admits.
You draw your knees into your chest. “I see.”
“Is it—can I?” He gestures to his side of the bed, the movement slow and hesitant and filled with the uncertainty clouding your own mind right now.
You nod, patting the mattress next to you. It’s his side of the bed, anyway.
Jaime tugs his shirt over his head before getting in with you, the bed dipping down beneath his weight. The familiar weight soothes something in you, has you gravitating towards him.
He flops down on his back, staring blankly at the ceiling. “I really am sorry, you know.”
“I know.”
And it’s true, you understand just how sorry he is. Just how wrecked he is that he left you waiting. His guilt isn’t enough to overshadow your own sadness.
“And you are important to me, amor. You are the world to me, I don’t—I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I know, Jaime.”
He rolls onto his side, looking at you with those big puppy eyes like he always does when he’s in trouble. “I love you.”
You sigh, “I love you, too.”
You give in, shuffling down in bed and rolling on your side to face him. He reaches out, draping an arm across your waist, drawing you in.
“I’m gonna do better,” he says it like a vow. “No more excuses, okay? I’ll be better for you.”
“Promise?”
He tugs you into him, planting a soft kiss to your forehead. “Swear it on my life.”
dc masterlist | navigation
thanks for reading & have a wonderful week /ᐠ > ˕ <マ ₊˚⊹♡
Hi can you do yanderes with a hypersexual darling? Like they dont like their partner but still need it, its okay if you dont want to love your work (its up to you about yanderes)
Friends with Benefits
Hal Jordan: Your next door neighbour was annoying, incorrigible really, in how much he seemed to relish in being a bother. Loud and arrogant, flirting with you at every interaction, but infuriatingly attractive, you don’t like him, at all. Especially since he seems to wait until all he has left is a pair of sweatpants to actually head down to the basement to do his laundry, proudly showing off his slim waist and defined abs. Okay, maybe you want him in a purely sexual way. And he feels the same way, so you find yourself falling into a purely transactional arrangement with him; you’re both clean and neither of you expect a follow up call, so it works. And he’s gone half the time, leaving no room for awkwardness as he’s more concerned with jumping you. And he knows how to put that annoying mouth to use. But during one of his longer stints of absence, you find yourself calling an old hookup over instead. Before you can even take your clothes off, Green Lantern of all people is bursting into your bedroom and throwing the other man off you with a brutal punch, daring him to show his face near you again before throwing him out. And, oh god, Hal is Green Lantern. That explains the constant leaving he does. But you’re more concerned about his audacity. It’s not like he’s your boyfriend and he no right to interfere in your affairs. When his face goes blank, you’re almost thankful his eyes are covered. But he only smiles before yanking you towards him by the wrist, “Looks like I’ll have to change that then.”, and you don’t think you can say no.
Booster Gold/Ted Kord: It’s not that you disliked them or anything, you even found their antics humorous at times. But, that’s as far as you would go. The whole hero community wasn’t one you wanted to involve yourself in, preferring to just do your work and return home without having to go to any of their holiday parties. But the one time you are roped into going one, and after a certain beetle starts flirting with you, you find yourself in supply closet and being joined by Booster Gold who walked in on you two. And, it’s easy being with them, not having to explain your bruises and being able to take what you want, what you need. Ted even offers to create toys that could better fit your desires. And they both seemed to understand your arrangement well enough. But soon they goad you into playing Smash Ultimate after you shower, then they’re making you food and even bringing you pastries if you’re working together. But it’s still casual, even as they refuse to let you leave their cuddle pile and start wrapping their arms around your waist after you finally agree to platonically hangout. But when a villain gets the upper hand on you, and you find yourself whisked away in the Bug as Ted cradles you and Booster nearly beats a man to death, you realize you’re totally dating them, or at least they think so. Fuck.
Kyle Rayner: Kyle’s never had the greatest luck with romance, so at some point, he just says fuck it and gives up on the whole true love thing. He just pours himself into the whole Green Lantern thing, remaining in space, exploring and tending to his duties, rather than try to cultivate a relationship back home. You enter the picture as a fellow lantern, assigned on a diplomatic mission with him, and those always take a while to complete. So when you two are bored out of your minds in your shared room, one things leads to another, and you two begin a series of flings with each other. By the time your mission is over, Kyle has already told the Guardians you need more training and that he’s more than willing to help you for the foreseeable future. He knows he said he was done with love, but he couldn’t help himself. He needs to stay with you just a little longer, just to make you feel the same way as him. And you can’t really say much, seeing as how he’s your superior and saviour of the Corps.
Johnny Storm: Everyone and their mother knew about the Human Torch, former teen idol now a general nuisance. It’s a bit hard not to be envious of him, with the glitz and glam of his hero/explorer life, surrounded by models and fast rides. So, when he asks you out after saving you, obviously you reject him. But you keep running into him afterwards, much to your annoyance, and eventually he’s grating on your nerves enough that you say fuck it, and skip the date and fuck him instead (and maybe the look of shock on his face was worth it). And that was your first mistake because god was he disgustingly good in bed, leaving you utterly satiated and covered in bite marks, so of course you proposed to keep things casual, seeing how he probably wanted sex too rather than something more intimate, playboy that he is. Until he starts referring to you as his future wife to others before insisting he’s joking when you confront him. And showing up at your work while suited up, causing everyone in your vincity to start recording. After appearing on TMZ, you decide to distance yourself from him, but kidnappings and villain encounters push you back into his arms, while his nephew starts to call you ‘auntie’ and his niece stares at you menacingly. Well, if the world is going to see you as the Human Torch’s lover, the least he can do is put his powers to some use in the bedroom…
Peter Parker: You can’t really escape him, or at least that’s how it feels like. You and Peter have attended school together since kindergarten, but that hasn’t necessarily forged a friendship. No, he’s just kid you’ll have in your class some years or see around. You thought you’d never see him again once you reached adulthood, but he’s a student of Empire State University too. You don’t have anything against him, really, but you’d rather have one of your friends show up as much as he does. But you can’t deny he’s attractive, muscle hidden beneath those baggy shirts he wears, toned stomach revealed when he stretches just so. So when you see him hanging around at a party, awkwardly nursing his solo cup, you approach and one thing leads to another, and you’re back at his place. He’s stronger than you expected, able to manhandle you into any position he likes with a near punishing force, so you stay a bit longer. You thought he knew things weren’t serious between you two until, he’s confessing he loves you, that he has for a while, as he’s climaxing in you. You wait until he falls asleep to sneak out, but you knock a box off his desk. One filled with pictures of you. And when you feel someone hovering above you while you were inspecting a particularly risqué photo of you, you don’t turn around in fear of the expression on his face. God, you’re fucked, in more than one way.
Matt Murdock: He doesn’t have the time or capacity for a relationship, but he has his urges, ones that he isn’t able to control, if his body count or meetups with the Avengers aren’t evidence enough. He knows that you’re like him too, and that you won’t get attached, so you two come to an arrangement. But the more time he spends with you and the more accustomed he becomes with your body, the harder it is for him to keep his feelings down. He knows you don’t feel the same way, from the reactions and chemicals he can feel and smell from you. But even then, he can’t bring himself to push you away. So he listens to your heartbeat from outside your home, makes sure no one even thinks of approaching you when you walk home, and continues to pine. And when he overhears a coworker plan to make a move on you, he pays them a visit as the Devil. Even if he wants more, he would rather die than have things change with you.
Thanks for the ask! Changed the request just a bit—
Also 2025 is the year of Johnny Storm, whose comic version has no fics here!! Hopefully marvel rivals creates some hype!!
Debrief: Jaime comes out to the manor to work with Tim, and meets you instead.
Case Notes: Is this the thing I should have been working on? No. But it gobble my brain up and now here we are. 😌 and yes, there will be a part two eventually.
The knock at the door wasn’t anything unusual. The manor always had someone stopping by: a Wayne charity contact, a delivery, or one of Tim’s friends from school. You happened to be walking past the grand entryway anyway, fixing one of your earrings before heading out, so you figured you’d grab it.
When you opened the heavy double doors, sunlight poured through, catching on the sequins of your casual-but-somehow-still-glamorous top. You looked effortlessly polished, all soft, glossy lips, and summer perfume.
And there he was.
A boy standing on the stoop, backpack slung over one shoulder, looking like he’d just stepped out of a college catalog shoot. All easy charm and nervous hands. Until he saw you.
Because Jaime Reyes had never been hit so hard by beauty in his entire life.
His brain flatlined. Completely.
He blinked once. Twice, “Uh— hi— um— hi.”
You tilted your head, smiling, polite but curious, “Hello there. Can I help you?”
“I— uh, yeah! I mean, maybe? I’m here for— uh—. Tim. Tim Drake?”
“Oh!” you brightened, resting a manicured hand against the doorframe, “You must be Jaime. He’s in the study, I think. Come in, I’ll show you.”
You turned, walking gracefully down the hall, giving a casual introduction of your name, “I’m Timmy’s older sister.”and Jaime followed, dazed. His eyes darted around the cavernous space, trying not to stare too openly at you, but God help him, your perfume lingered like honey in the air as he followed behind you.
When you glanced over your shoulder to make sure he was keeping up, his brain short-circuited all over again.
“I didn’t know Tim had such a lovely sister,” he said before he could stop himself, voice cracking right at the word lovely.
You laughed; a warm, effortless sound that nearly killed him on the spot. you smile, teasingly, glancing at him again, “You’re a smooth one, aren’t you?”
“I swear I’m not usually this— uh— awkward,” he managed, scratching the back of his neck, cheeks warm.
“Sure you’re not.”
You led him into the study where Tim was sprawled over blueprints, half a dozen monitors flickering.
“Hey, Tim,” you said, gesturing toward Jaime. “Your friend’s here. Try not to scare him off with your caffeine levels.”
Tim glanced up, oblivious to the sparks still practically crackling in the air, “Thanks, (Y/N).”
As you left the room, Jaime’s eyes followed until the door clicked shut.
Tim raised a brow, unimpressed, “You good, Reyes? You look like you saw a ghost.”
Jaime blinked, “Nah, hermano. That was an angel.”
💙🪲🖤🪲💙
Jaime still hadn’t moved. He was sitting at Tim’s desk, gaze fixed on the door like maybe you’d walk back through it, hair haloed by sunlight again, laughing that pretty laugh.
Tim sighed, watching him, all too familiar with what has happened, “you’re not gonna hear a word I say for the next fifteen minutes, are you?”
“What?” Jaime blinked, finally dragging his eyes away, “No, yeah, totally, uh— something about, uh… the microdrone frequency.”
“Jaime,” Tim deadpanned. “We’re working on encryption software, not microdrones.”
Another sigh, “God, I’ve seen that face before. I know that face.”
“What face?”
“The one that says you’re already planning your wedding after two seconds of eye contact with her.”
Jaime gave an incredulous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, “C’mon, man, I’m just sayin’—. she’s… wow. Like, wow. You didn’t tell me your sister looks like she stepped out of a perfume commercial.”
“I didn’t tell you because I was trying to spare you the embarrassment,” Tim muttered, typing something halfheartedly.
Jaime leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “She’s got this whole— like— grace thing going on. Like she knows exactly how to walk into a room and own it. And her smile? Bro, her smile could fix climate change.”
Tim dropped his head into his hands., You’re hopeless.”
“I’m enchanted,” Jaime corrected dreamily.
“Same thing in this house.” Tim pointed his stylus at him like a miniature sword, “Listen to me carefully: my sister dates older guys. Like, serious, tax-paying, Armani-suit-wearing, drive-an-Aston-Martin older guys. You don’t stand a chance.”
Jaime blinked, undeterred, “Yeah, but maybe she’s ready to try something new. Someone young, fresh, bilingual—”
“— and delusional.”
Jaime laughed, unabashed, “You never know, man. Maybe she’s into guys who can turn into human bug armor. That’s a niche look.”
Tim swiveled in his chair to stare him down, deadpan. “Jaime. She’s a beauty queen of New Jersey. You’re literally a bug.”
“Cold, bro. You’re ice cold.”Jaime put a hand over his heart, mock-wounded, “wait… beauty queen? Like a real one?”
“Yes, Miss. New Jersey, held the title a couple of years ago.” Tim states, looking over the bookshelves in Bruce’s study, before pointing at a frame on one across from Bruce’s desk.
You were standing on the stage, stupid huge grin on your face, with a huge smile, tear brimmed eyes, a large crown on your pretty head, and an even larger bouquet in your arms. “Quit while you’re ahead Jaime, before you embarrass yourself.”
But Tim’s warning only seemed to fuel him more. Because Jaime just sat there, grin spreading, eyes distant again like he could still see the outline of your smile that was pointed in his direction earlier.
“Yeah,” he said under his breath, hopelessly smitten, “I Definitely think she’s worth the embarrassment.”
💙🪲🖤🪲💙
It started innocently enough— or at least, that’s what Jaime kept telling himself.
He and Tim had a good rhythm. They worked well together, talked shop, traded ideas about tech and hero work, and shared the occasional joke at Bruce’s expense. But lately, those visits to the manor had gotten… more frequent. Too frequent.
“Wow, Reyes,” Tim muttered one afternoon, eyeing him over his coffee mug, “That’s the third time this week you’ve ‘just happened to be in the neighborhood.’ You live in El Paso.”
Jaime tried for nonchalance, leaning on the back of Tim’s chair, “What? Can’t a guy come hang out with his favorite vigilante-slash-billionaire? We’re friends, bro.”
Tim didn’t even look up from his laptop, “We were friends before you learned my sister’s name, and you never visited this much.”
“Okay, that’s— low blow.” Jaime grinned, but there was a faint pink in his ears.
Because, well… yeah. He’d looked her up. Once. Maybe twice. Or… enough times that his browser now auto-filled your name if he so much as typed “M.” Miss New Jersey, 20-whatever. The photos of you in the pageant— the way you carried yourself like royalty, like the crown wasn’t something given but owed to you— yeah, that image had been living rent-free in his brain ever since.
And the interviews? The tabloids? The charity photos, the red carpet moments, the quote you gave once about how beauty was “just confidence and kindness dressed up for the night”? Yeah, he’d memorized that. Could recite it word for word.
Every time he knocked on the door now, he hoped you’d answer again. Sometimes you did. Sometimes it was Alfred. Once it was Damian, who had eyed him with such pure suspicion that Jaime had nearly turned around and left.
But when it was you? When you’d smile that soft, practiced smile and ask, “Here for Timmy again?”and he’d melt on the spot.
He’d try to play it cool. He really would. But somehow his words always came out half a beat too fast, voice half an octave too high.
And Tim noticed. Oh, Tim noticed.
One afternoon, Jaime was sprawled on the couch in the study, pretending to help debug code, but really scrolling through your old pageant footage on mute. You’d just been crowned, tears glittering on your cheeks, the crowd cheering as you waved that perfect, delicate hand.
Tim didn’t even bother to hide his sigh, “Reyes, you realize she’s three years older than you, right?”
“Three’s not that much,” Jaime muttered, not looking up.
“She dates men with mortgages.”
Jaime looked up then, as if he hadn’t heard, “Yeah, but maybe she wants something different, you know? I keep telling you, Maybe she’s tired of the fancy guys with yachts and wants someone who can, like, take her to a taco truck for the first time or something.”
Tim rubbed his temples, “You’re delusional.”
“Hopeful,” Jaime corrected with a smirk.
“Reyes, she’s literally in Vogue this month. You think she’s gonna look at you; a college sophomore who keeps forgetting to charge his phone and has $4 to his name— and think, ‘Yeah, that’s the one.’”
Jaime sat up, dramatically clutching his heart, “Ouch, bro. You’re supposed to be my friend, not my dream killer.”
“I am your friend. That’s why I’m trying to save you from public humiliation.”
Jaime leaned back, arms behind his head, grin widening like he didn’t hear a word, “She smiled at me the other day. Like a real smile. You can’t fake that. She’s into me.”
“She smiles at everyone. She was trained for it. That’s literally part of her pageant skill set.”
Jaime’s grin softened a little, eyes drifting toward the door, “Still,” he murmured, quieter now. “She’s… different, hermano. You can just tell. She’s got that kind of energy that makes everything around her look a little brighter.”
Tim groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Oh my god. You’re five seconds from writing poetry about her, aren’t you?”
“En dios, amigo. I already did.” Jaime said, only half-joking.
Tim stared at him for a long moment, “You’re impossible.”
“Persistent,” Jaime corrected again, that same hopeful glint in his eyes.
“Fine. Persistent.” Tim leaned back in his chair, utterly exhausted. “But if she catches on and crushes your heart in Louboutins, don’t come crying to me.”
Jaime just grinned, thumb tapping idly against his phone as he refreshed the search results for your name again— like maybe the internet would update with something new, something that meant he was getting closer to you somehow.
“She’s Worth it,” he said under his breath.
Tim sighed so deeply it could’ve been a prayer, “I need a new friend.”
💙🪲🖤🪲💙
The manor kitchen was quiet that afternoon a couple weeks later, sunlight spilling through the high windows in soft gold sheets. The smell of coffee and fresh bread lingered from Alfred’s morning rounds, and Jaime was leaning against the counter with his laptop open, trying to act like he was doing anything other than re-reading the same line of code for the tenth time.
Tim had just ducked out— something about grabbing a drive from the Batcave, muttering under his breath about “stupid encryption keys” and “stupider crushes.” Jaime hadn’t even noticed him leave. He was too busy thinking about how the Wayne kitchen looked like something out of a home magazine.
Then he heard the click of heels on tile.
He looked up— and nearly dropped his coffee.
You glided in like a scene change, sundress flowing, pearls shining against your collarbone, hair perfectly styled as if the universe itself conspired to make him weak. You weren’t supposed to look that good in the middle of a weekday. It wasn’t fair.
“Oh,” you said with that soft, melodic lilt, spotting him by the counter, “Jaime. How are you?”
He blinked rapidly, standing so fast his knee hit the stool. “Uh— yeah! Yeah, that’s me. I’m good!”
You smiled, the corner of your mouth curling in polite amusement, “Did Tim step out?”
“Yeah, just for a sec. Said he had to grab something from… somewhere important.” His voice cracked halfway through, and he winced, “He’ll be back soon.”
“Good, it would be rude for him to leave his company waiting long.” you say, crossing the kitchen to grab a glass from the cabinet, “I was just going to make a drink before I head out. Gala meeting. You know how it is.”
He didn’t, but he nodded like he did, “Right, yeah. The, uh— glamorous life. Totally get it.”
You laughed softly, and the sound hit him like sunlight through stained glass, “You’re sweet.”
He tried to play it cool, leaning on the counter, “I try. Mamí raised me right, I guess.”
That earned him another smile, which felt like winning the lottery, “So, you and Tim are working on something top secret again?”
“Something like that,” Jaime said, trying to find his charm and not combust in the process. “Mostly I just pretend to understand half of what he says and nod a lot. But you know, it works. Gets me more time in this beautiful house.”
You raised an eyebrow, stirring something in your glass, “Oh? The manor’s the draw?”
He grinned, shameless, “Well… the company doesn’t hurt either.”
You looked up at him over your shoulder, pearls glinting under the light, eyes warm but knowing, and smiled that kind of smile that made him forget his own name, “You’re quite the charmer, huh?”
“Only when the company’s this good.”
You laughed again, light and teasing, shaking your head, “You must say that to all the girls.”
“No, ma’am. Just the pretty ones who open the door looking like they stepped out of a dream.”
That made you pause for a heartbeat— not because you were flustered, but because you weren’t used to someone so earnest. You turned, glass in hand, and leaned against the island, giving him a soft, indulgent look.
“You’re adorable,” you said finally, tone sweet but distant, like a pat on the head, “How old are you again, sweetheart?”
You hummed, taking a sip from your glass, eyes dancing, “Mhm. You’ve got that look. All bright-eyed and confident. Dangerous combo.”
“I mean, I can be dangerous,” he said quickly, grinning again, trying to salvage the moment. “In a, like, respectful, mature kind of way.”
That earned a full laugh this time, rich and genuine. You set your drink down and stepped closer, close enough that your perfume wrapped around him in soft waves of jasmine and warm vanilla.
“You’re a sweetheart,” you said softly, reaching up to straighten his collar; a simple gesture that short-circuited his entire nervous system, “But you should be careful with that charm of yours. Someone might believe you.”
“I’d prefer it if you did,” he blurted before he could stop himself.
You froze for half a second, surprised, then that same teasing smile returned. You brushed your fingers over his the buttons on his shirt, gentle, almost fond. “Oh, honey,” you said, voice laced with affectionate amusement, “That’s cute.”
And just like that, the moment was over.
You stepped back, grabbing your purse off the counter, “Tell Timmy I’ll see him tonight, okay?”
“Uh— yeah,” Jaime managed, watching helplessly as you disappeared through the doorway, the faint click of your heels fading down the hall.
He let out a long breath, leaning back against the counter, heart pounding so hard his scarab thought he was in cardiac destress.
When Tim finally returned, holding a flash drive and looking annoyed, he found Jaime still standing there, dazed.
“You said something stupid, didn’t you?” Tim asked immediately.
Jaime didn’t even look at him. Just sighed dreamily, “Bro… I think I saw God.”
Tim groaned, “Unbelievable.”
“She fixed my collar, man,” Jaime whispered like it was sacred. “That means something, it’s gotta.”
Tim pinched the bridge of his nose, “It means she thinks you’re a lost puppy. Reyes, please, for the love of all things holy, stop coming over.”
Jaime grinned, still staring at the empty doorway, “Can’t. I’m in too deep now.”
💙🪲🖤🪲💙
By midweek, Tim Drake was officially out of patience.
Every morning, every text, every call, every random visit— Jaime Reyes had one topic, one goal, and one singular obsession since you had mentioned it: the Wayne Foundation Gala.
“Tim, bro, listen—”
“No.”
“C’mon, hermano, I’ll behave!”
“No.”
“I’ll wear a suit, tie, the whole thing—”
“Still no.”
“I’ll even bring a donation for the charity fund!”
Tim actually looked up from his keyboard at that one, narrowing his eyes, “You don’t have money like that.”
“I’ll sell something!”
“Reyes.” Tim’s voice was tired, bordering on pleading, “You cannot come to the gala.”
“Why not? You’re invited! I’m could already be your plus-one at this point.”
Tim sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Because you’re not there to network. You’re not there to support the foundation. You’re there to drool over my sister.”
“‘Drool’ is a strong word—”
“You stared at her for four solid minutes the last time she walked into a room. I counted, Jaime.”
Jaime smiled sheepishly, “To be fair, it was a good dress.”
Tim groaned, “You’re hopeless.”
“I’m persistent!”
“Persistent gets you restraining orders in this family.”
For a long moment, the only sound was the clicking of Tim’s keyboard. Jaime waited, eyes wide and pleading, leaning across the desk like a kid trying to convince his dad to buy candy.
Finally, Tim exhaled, shoulders slumping in defeat, “Fine.”
Jaime’s eyes widened, “Fine?”
“Fine. You can come. But I’m warning you, Reyes — she has a date.”
The joy on Jaime’s face faltered. “…A date?”
“Yeah. Roy Harper.”
“Red Arrow Roy?”
“Arsenal,” Tim corrected automatically, “But yeah. Him.”
Jaime blinked, running a hand through his hair, “Roy Harper? The guy with the arm tattoo and the attitude problem? That’s who she’s dating?”
“On and off again,” Tim muttered, “Mostly off, if we’re lucky.”
For a long moment, Jaime just sat there, blinking, gears clearly turning. Then—
“Oh, I got this,” he said confidently, grinning.
Tim froze mid-keystroke, “…What.”
“Bro, come on. Have you seen Roy Harper? Dude’s a mess. I mean, yeah, he’s got that rugged bad-boy thing going on, but that’s temporary charm at best. Meanwhile, me? I’m fresh-faced. Respectful. Mom-approved. The kind of guy you bring home to meet Bruce freakin’ Wayne.”
Tim blinked slowly, “…You actually think you’re gonna out-charm Roy Harper.”
“Absolutely.” Jaime sat back with all the confidence in the world, grinning ear to ear, “I’ve got charisma. I’ve got manners. I’ve got rhythm. Roy’s probably gonna show up late in a leather jacket. Me? I’m showing up in a suit, on time, smelling like success.”
Tim stared at him for a long, painful moment, “You are delusional.”
“Delusional,” Jaime repeated, grinning wider, “is just the first step toward legendary.”
“Legendary is what we call the disaster that’s about to happen when she sees you across the room and pretends not to know you.”
“She won’t do that.”
“She definitely will.”
“Bro.” Jaime leaned forward, hands clasped like he was praying. “You gotta believe in love.”
“I believe in security escorts,” Tim muttered.
“C’mon, man, you said it yourself— they’re on and off again. She’s probably sick of him. I show up, I’m polite, I compliment her dress, I laugh at her jokes— boom!” He snapped his fingers. “Instant connection. It’s fate.”
“It’s more like a train wreck waiting to happen.”
But Jaime was already in his own little world, muttering to himself about cologne choices and tie colors, grinning like he’d already won.
Tim leaned back in his chair, utterly defeated, and muttered, “I’m gonna need more coffee.”
Jaime just flashed him a thumbs up, eyes sparkling with confidence that absolutely had no basis in reality, “You’ll see, bro. I’m telling you. Roy Harper’s gonna fumble, and I’m gonna be there to pick up the queens crown.”
Tim didn’t even look up, “You’re not ready for my sister, Reyes. She’ll eat you alive.”
Jaime grinned, “Maybe. Maybe not. But I am ready for my shot.”
💙🪲🖤🪲💙
The Wayne Foundation Gala sparkled the way Gotham never quite did. Crystal chandeliers, champagne fountains, a live quartet tucked beneath an archway of white roses. It was the kind of event that smelled like money and ambition, and Jaime Reyes had no business looking as confident as he did while walking into it.
He tugged at his borrowed tie, the Scarab muttering somewhere in the back of his head about proximity sensors and mission protocols. Jaime ignored it— because the mission tonight was you.
And there you were.
Standing beneath the flash of cameras at the grand staircase, pearls glinting against your throat, your gown flowing like poured light against your skin— a pale champagne color that made your skin glow. One hand rested on Bruce’s arm for the family photo; the other held a clutch that probably cost more than Jaime’s car.
You looked untouchable. And utterly, completely breathtaking.
Tim was off to the side, watching Jaime from the refreshment table, sipping his drink muttering to himself about wishful thinking and delusion.
Jaime couldn’t hear him. He was too busy trying to remember how to breathe.
You smiled for the cameras— that signature, graceful smile that made the press collectively swoon— and then, after Bruce and Dick were pulled aside by some board member, you stepped away from the lights. You looked utterly at ease, completely unsurprised that your date hadn’t shown yet.
You’d been here before. You knew Roy would arrive late, half-charming, chaotic, and you didn’t mind. You always looked like a woman who didn’t need anyone to arrive with her to own a room.
And that was exactly when Jaime decided to shoot his shot.
He smoothed his jacket, squared his shoulders, and walked over like he belonged. His heart pounding, smile bright, the definition of reckless optimism.
“Evening, Miss Wayne,” he said, trying to sound suave but coming off a touch breathless, “You clean up pretty good.”
You turned, already smiling politely before your gaze focused on him. Recognition sparked. “Jaime, I’m surprised. Tim usually doesn’t bring friends to these.”
He grinned, “That’s me. The friend who wormed an invite out of his friend, to come to a fancy party.”
That earned him a soft laugh, the kind that made his heart skip. “I see you survived another of his projects.”
“Barely. I think I earned a medal just for keeping up.” He leaned in slightly, voice lowering conspiratorially. “But, hey; totally worth it if it means getting to see this.”
You arched an eyebrow, amusement dancing across your face, “This?”
“You,” he said, without hesitation. “The dress. The whole thing. I mean— wow. If they were handing out awards for most stunning person in the room, the rest of us should just go home.”
You tilted your head, lips curving in that amused, practiced smile that said you’ve heard it all before, “Careful, Reyes. You’ll make a girl blush.”
“I can only try,” he shot back, grin widening. “So, uh, your date’s running late?”
You looked toward the doors like you already knew the answer, “He has a habit of it.”
“Roy Harper, right?” Jaime said it casually, like he wasn’t internally screaming that he’d remembered.
“Mhm. You know him?”
“By reputation,” Jaime said lightly, “Guy’s got style. Not as much as me, obviously, but…” He gestured vaguely to his suit. “I’m trying to represent El Paso, you know?”
That made you laugh— a real laugh this time, head tipping back just slightly. And Jaime? He would’ve died happy right there.
“You’re incorrigible,” you said, shaking your head.
He put a hand over his heart, feigning offense, “Hey, I’m just saying— if Harper’s gonna keep you waiting, I could fill in. Keep you company. Get you a drink. Dance a little. All in the name of charity, of course.”
“Of course,” you echoed, smiling like you were indulging a child.
Before you could answer, another round of flashes went off nearby— the press catching sight of you again. You turned instinctively toward the light, hand brushing your hair into place, the picture of poise.
Jaime just stood there, struck stupid by how effortlessly you commanded a room.
When the lights dimmed and the photographers moved on, you caught him staring.
He didn’t even try to hide it, “… Sorry,” he said softly, sincerity cutting through the charm, “You’re just… kinda hard to look away from.”
That made something flicker in your eyes— surprise, maybe, or the faintest warmth. You were used to being complimented, worshipped even, but this felt different. Less rehearsed. More… honest and sincere.
You smiled again, softer this time, “You really are something, Jaime.”
“I’ll take that as a good thing,” he said, smiling back.
“You should,” you teased, turning slightly as the orchestra began to play, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to greet a few people before Roy finally decides to make his grand entrance.”
“Right,” he said, stepping back, but still grinning, “Hey, if he stands you up completely… save me a dance, yeah?”
You paused mid-step, glancing back over your shoulder, that same teasing glimmer in your eyes.
“We’ll see.”
And then you were gone again, swallowed up by the glittering crowd, pearls catching the light.
Jaime stood there for a long moment, heart thudding, smile stupid and unstoppable.
Across the room, Tim watched him and groaned, “He’s in deeper than I thought.”
Dick raised his champagne flute beside him in solidarity, how many of his own friends had fallen into the trap that was their sister? “Poor kid never stood a chance.”
Tim nodded grimly, “Neither does she if he keeps looking at her like that.”
Next Chapter>>>
⭐️DCU Masterlist⭐️ 🦇Return to the Batcave🦇
If you like my work and want to support me, consider Buying Me A Coffee?☕️
Which characters would let you eat a donut off it 🤤 I got donuts today and now I’m thinking… I know roy would high or sober. Remy would. But I want to hear your takes
hmmmmm………hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
DC:
Guy Gardner is begging for you to eat a donut off it. He’s sitting on your couch in nothing but low-hanging boxers with a mischievous look on his face as he holds that glazed donut—looking from the pastry, to the spot where his boxers are obviously tenting, and then back to you. “Come on, honey,” he goads, “How else you gonna eat it?”
Clark Kent only does it because you’re so adorable about cajoling him into it; and the sight of you gently kissing at his cock to make it harder, hard enough to loop one of those bright, sprinkle donuts around it—well. It’s certainly too much for him. After that, he can’t help but shyly ask with a strident blush for you to do it again and again.
Booster Gold, the showboat that he is, is definitely leaping on the chance. Has the centerfold rug all set up—but—it wouldn’t be complete if Ted wasn’t there, watching the two of you. Giving tips to Booster on how to pose as you guide the donut down, saying how good you look as you eat it off of him. Hmmm. Hmmmmm.
Kyle Rayner is a flustered mess asking, but he’s also a flustered mess in the process of you eating it off him. Just very sensitive to your touch and tongue and just really very into it—get ready to do it several more times afterwards.
Dinah Lance, when she hears you make the joke, decides on a compromise—and sheds her clothes to spray a heavy dollop of whipped cream on her nipple, giving you a playful, flirtatious smirk. “Well?” She purrs. “Are you going to take care of me?”
Marvel:
Wade Wilson has several different flavors that he wants you to try, and promises that you’ll have eaten all of them by the time you’re done with him—after all, he proclaims, super healing factor means harder even longer. Supposedly—looks like it’s up to you to find out.
Oh, Bullseye is milking this. He is just sitting on the couch with his legs spread as you sink down to your knees between them. Just absolutely gloating as he watches you put the first donut on, making comments like “Yeah, you look good like that, sweetheart.”
Norman Osborne is surprisingly down for this—he wants to show that he’s got the virility to rob the cradle with such a young steal like you. He makes you do it in the office with the wall-to-wall windows while he sits in the business executive chair, as you sit under his desk. “Now clean me off,” he instructs—and because he’s Mr. Osborne, you obey him.
Victor Creed likes the idea a little too much when you suggest it casually. Even suggests, if you’re driving, that the two of you should pull over and find a place to practice, with a smile like the cat eating the proverbial canary.
Emma Frost can tell how into the idea you are as your thoughts blare it so loudly. She suggests that if you want to do something similar to her, then you’d better be a good pet and grab that bottle of chocolate syrup from the fridge. And do hurry—or dessert will get cold.
jli guys dating headcanons featuring... booster gold, ted kord, guy gardner
cw: lots of fluff, guy takes a hands-on approach to things
song: love me like you do - ellie goulding
booster gold
boyfriend!booster who... likes to say he isn't the jealous type. swears on it. he's sending looks your way when you laugh too hard at another man's joke? what?? he’d never!! just.. shift that attention back to him, would you?
boyfriend!booster who... turns bright red when physical contact is involved in anything. you're sparring together? he’s sweating bullets, and not from the exercise. your hands brush whilst passing in the hallway? he thinks about it for the rest of the day. god forbid you intentionally do something, because he’ll need an ice pack and a moment to sit down
boyfriend!booster who... is like a puppy. yeah, yeah, golden retriever boyfriend or whatever the girls on tiktok say about their boyfriends, but it’s more than that. he’s loyal, he’s sociable, he loves to go on walks, and he’ll bark for you if you ask nicely. wait, what? who said that?
guy gardner
boyfriend!guy who... gets reeaall cocky when people see you in public together. not just the usual “look how beautiful my partner is”, but going out of his way to get in stranger’s lines of vision with you in his arms, pointing at you and giving them a big, fat ‘L’ with his pointer finger and thumb
boyfriend!guy who... cannot keep his hands off of you for the life of him. do NOT think about bending down around him to pick up something from the floor, or leaning over the dinner table to grab the salt, because the shape of his palm will be indented in the curve of your ass for the next month. might wanna get some ice on that one.
boyfriend!guy who... doesn’t know what an inside thought is. will blurt out the most outrageous comments about you (and others, though those usually aren’t so positive) without a care in the world. hope you don’t get embarrassed easily.
ted kord
boyfriend!ted who... always finds a way to make eye contact with you when stupid things happen. he has a way of doing it in the worst moments, too, and he knows how it’ll end -- both of you being scolded for bursting into laughter.
boyfriend!ted who... feels much more confident around you. he’s got his insecurities, sure, who doesn’t? but they all melt away as soon as he’s by your side, and you’re there to remind him of how amazing he actually is. don’t doubt that he’ll do the same for you. this guy doesn’t know how not to give you compliments
boyfriend!ted who... accidentally keeps you up later than you’d like at night with his talking, or the blue light from his laptop on his side of the bed, but makes it up to you by buying you as much caffeine as you need the next morning. OR he takes extra time to tuck you into bed at night, kiss on the forehead and all.
divider by @/mieluno
*taps mic* is this thing on?
maybe will do more of these... will this become a dc blog? who knows
