Summary: Jason is angry after watching Wuthering Heights. You are horny watching him get angry.
Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader
C/W: Wuthering Heights. Suggestive (making out, grinding(?))
A/N: My first time really writing anything close to smut (or suggestive). So please, i know this isn't great, but we are starting somewhere. dividers: @/cursed-carmine
MDNI
“Why the fuck is Heathcliff played by Jacob elordi? Did she even read the book?” Jason huffs, turning the pages of his annotated copy of Wuthering Heights. “There is so much evidence that he is anything but white, yet here we are in 2026, where...”
blah blah blah
You really should be listening because, for one, he was right, and two, it concerned a whole lot about the world’s state right now. But how could you, if Jason Peter Todd sat on the velvety couch, knees spread, jaw clenched tight, and those beautiful emerald eyes narrowed into tiny slits. His black jeans strained against his sturdy thighs and white t-shirt stuck to his torso like a second skin – you could even see his abs pulsing with every word, and boy, was it hypnotising.
Both of you had just returned home after watching the recent adaptation (if you could even call it that), and to say the least, Jason was pissed. He had gone straight to the bookshelf at the corner of the living room, grabbed his paperback copy and started ranting about all the discrepancies between the movie and the book, which were pretty much everything.
It’s not like you didn't try; you really did. But your boyfriend was hot, especially when he was angry. You lick your lips, trying to cool the sudden warmth surging through your body. The deep blue lighting from the paused TV screen highlighted Jason, as if he were the beautiful, deep ocean, and you were the reckless sailor drowning in it. Jason leaned, his head falling back on the couch, palm resting against his forehead in exasperation, but instead, all you saw was his biceps flexing.
Yeah, you couldn’t take it anymore.
“What was that for?” he mumbles when you pluck the book out of his hands and straddle his lap. His face is warm under your hands, eyes a little widened at the sudden movement. You brush against his scars before placing feather-light kisses from the tilt of his jaw, the expanse of his cheeks, and his scars to the column of his throat. His hands are at your waist, firm but gentle, as his eyes flutter, breathy gasps leaving his lips at the sudden rampage.
“Baby, please, " he sighed at the lack of your mouth on the only place he wanted.
Finally, your lips seal his, tasting the cherry ice cream he had earlier. Jason squeezes your hips, finding the silver of skin underneath your shirt, tracing circles on to them – either to calm you or himself. Before long, one of his hands cups your neck, slithering his tongue between your glossy lips, swirling with yours like a melody you both are fluent in. Your hips unconsciously grind onto his, as he gasps.
“You just looked so hot, Jay.” You whisper letting out a breath as you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, placing a small kiss while your fingers threaded through his hair, “I couldn’t help it”. He hums, hands trailing to your butt before squeezing the flesh as he stands – your legs still looped at his waist—causing you to let out a yelp.
“ Well, we can’t just leave this halfway now, can we?” Emerald eyes hold yours, now brimming with desire, flooding all your senses. You whisper back, a sly smile on your face “of course, we can’t”
You giggle, as he leaps (literally) with you to the bedroom.
Bonus Scene:
“It still doesn’t make sense how she could cast a POC actor for Edgar but not for Heathcliff,” you hum, drifting in between sleep as you nuzzle into his naked chest, his fingers twirling your hair. It was early morning now, after hours of being in each other’s arms, and Jason was still stuck on last night’s movie.
“Wuthering Heights by Kate Bush is really the best adaptation to date”
A/N: So I watched Wuthering heights two weeks back and well I hated it.
summary: Turns out you had met the Waynes well before meeting your husband.
pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader
tags and warning(s): Nothing as far as I'm aware, wrote this in an hour and I'm way too sleepy to proofread this. some info might not be accurate, Maybe OOC
word count:1.1k
dc mlist bruce wayne mlist
Bruce Wayne had a hollow pit in his heart that ached for the simple things in life, such as Jason picking up his call, dick staying the night at the manor, among others. But like everyone else, he wished for things that could never happen, like his parents alive and well beyond their early thirties, and meeting you, his wife.
But what if fate had other plans?
It's a random Tuesday as Bruce, and you stand in the middle of your grandfather's beloved attic. The wooden floors creak under your weight, dust particles moving in spirals as the early rays of sunshine flit through the glass panes of the dormer window. Your mother had asked for your help in cleaning your grandparents' place, and so you pulled in Bruce - offering him a break from his corporate duties, which he gladly agreed to.
"Wow, I did not realise my grandad hoarded so many things", you say, looking at the vast number of trinkets and boxes stacked along the walls on both sides of the attic. Each was well organised, with a label pasted on the top.
"Your grandad was a man of culture", Bruce chuckles, looking at the various band posters from the 40s and 50s. There were even autographs from some of them, neatly preserved.
Both of you got to work immediately, knowing it would be hours before everything was cleaned out. You had decided to split the work by concentrating on different ends of the triangular room.
Bruce had struck gold by ending up in the corner where your granddad had seemed to store much of the photo albums and cassettes, stacked on top of each other, labeled in detail about what the insides contained. It gave Bruce an insight to your family, a family from looking at the albums that had photos from back since your grandparents got married, having their daughter — your mother, to her getting married, and having you.
He had seen a lot of your photos since the early days of dating, but these were different. Your grandfather was an avid photographer, and Bruce could sense it through the varied angles and poses that he made everyone do.
"Having fun, huh?" you mumble, looking at Bruce as he suppresses a chuckle while looking at the pictures of you — a two-year-old, wearing a princess gown and a wand gripped tightly within your grubby fingers.
"You get stuck with the more fun part, while I have to dust some old documents", you grumble, looking at files and files of documents.
"Do you wanna exchange, sweetheart?"
"Nope," you say, emphasizing the 'p' as you shift to the next box, "Besides, I like hearing you laugh, even if it comes at the cost of my pictures"
An hour passes by.
You had finished four out of the twelve boxes. Heaving a sigh, you decide it's time for a well-deserved break. And what better to do than annoy your beautiful husband?
"Bruce, Brucie Wayne," you turn to look at him at the lack of any response "Bruce?"
Bruce doesn't answer, his broad back turned towards you. There is something different in the air from a few minutes ago, almost tinged with melancholic fragrance. You move towards, hoping to see what made him go so still, only to let out a gasp when you see it.
There you were, maybe five or six years old, wearing a large doctor's coat that reached well beyond your limbs, dragging onto the marble floor and a cute pink stethoscope around your neck. But that was not what made you gasp; it was the couple you were standing with in the photo.
Thomas and Martha Wayne.
Both of them were crouched next to you on either side. Thomas Wayne in his fitting black suit paired with a dark blue silk necktie embellished with motifs, while Martha Wayne wore a simple black silk dress paired with a blue tweed jacket.
There was a tiny piece of description below the photograph, a little shabby, like your grandpa wasn't sure what to write.
' Y/N & famous couple from Gotham (VHS #155)'
Bruce let out a laugh— loud but bittersweet. It made sense for your grandad to not know them, considering the only people he thought to be rich were the Queens.
You looked at Bruce, his eyes a little glazed as you cupped his face, fingers rubbing against the expanse of his cheek. Pressing a small kiss on his forehead, you whisper, "Shall we watch the VHS tape?"
He hums as you both try finding the exact tape among two hundred of them. Once retrieved, you dust the Toshiba VCR at the corner, pulling it slightly towards the center. You and Bruce try to get it to start since it probably hasn't been used in a while.
After a few minutes, the VCR lights up. Inserting the tape, you press play, and both of you stand back, Bruce's arm over your shoulder as you lay your head on his chest, arms wrapped around his waist.
The VCR displays a blue gradient before buzzing to a grainy film of you in a purple and pink frock , smiling widely at the camera. There's a lot of noise around you — people clapping , speeches being read as your grandad records the stage when Thomas Wayne was giving his speech. Bruce shifted a little, hand holding yours a little tighter, from hearing his father's voice after so many years.
The video then shifts to you, standing in front of the couple, wearing a pink stethoscope and a white coat a little too large for your frame. Martha Wayne smiles , a smile so radiant, before crouching down to her knees as she shakes your hand.
"Hi, there. What's your name?"
You say your name before letting out a giggle at her calling you beautiful.
"You want to be a doctor when you grow up?" She asks, hands pointing at the instrument hanging around your neck.
"Yes, ma'am. I want to be a heart doctor," you say, peering at the woman beside you. Thomas Wayne smiles before exchanging pleasantries with your grandfather.
"Oh, that's wonderful! You will be a great doctor one day, my dear."
And with that, the VHS comes to an end.
Bruce sniffles a little , his hands holding your waist, chin placed on top of your head. Silence fills the space along with the sounds of your nieces playing around the house. You don't know how long the both of you stayed like that, but it could have been forever, and you didn't mind at all.
Bruce is beyond happy. While it may not be visible to the naked eye, you could feel the joy emanating from the open crevices of grief and gaps of affection. He was happy that you —his wife, the love of his life — had met his parents. And they had gotten the chance to meet you.
Perhaps both of you really were soulmates.
A/N: Comments and Reblogs appreciated! Writing something for bruce after a long time.
summary: You give them flowers
character(s): Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake
tags and warning(s) Implied fem reader, batfam cameo in Jason's part, idiots to lovers in Jason's part lmao, suggestive, one mention of wedding in Dick's, also mentions of food in Dick's portion, Nothing else(unless I've missed something),Dick's portion is slightly based off of this post by @batwngs, Maybe OOC, Reblogs and comments appreciated!
word count: 2.4K
DC masterlist
BRUCE WAYNE
The sound of heels clacking against the marble tiles reverberates through the lobby as you move past the teak of the front desk. It wasn't unusual for you to stop by the company, but what was unusual was the large bouquet of fresh red roses, neatly wrapped in a sleek black sheet with golden borders that found home in your arms. The bouquet was so huge, it almost covered the entirety of your face.
"Mrs. Wayne, I can—" Rina, one of your husband's secretaries, asks, having spotted you among the crowd, her arms hovering over the flowers.
"It's okay, Rina. I got this," you smile, holding the bouquet a little tighter against your chest. "Thank you."
She nods, though the concern etched onto her face doesn't waver as she gazes at your form walking towards the elevator specifically reserved for Bruce Wayne and a few select people. You press the button for the top floor, readjusting your grip at the base of the bouquet. The silver-stained doors slide open with a hiss as you walk past Daniel, another of Bruce's secretaries, who immediately offers to help, to which you politely decline.
Knocking on the glass door with your knuckles, your hands fumble around for the handle due to your limited vision. Bruce Wayne notices almost instantly, leaving the paperwork behind as he rushes to the door. He takes the bouquet out of your hands without question and sets it on top of his desk.
"So who gave you the flowers?" Bruce asks, trying to mask the green in his heart while his eyes try to find any message card tucked away in the assortment. It wasn’t unusual for you to receive such gifts as a part of your work in betterment of the city, though it stills irks something in him.
"It's for you?" His hands still, deep blue eyes locking onto yours.
"…for me?"
"Yeah, I saw them on the way here, and it reminded me of you." You say, plopping onto the leather of his office chair.
"Roses reminded you of me?" Bruce is genuinely stumped, eyes wide and glazed with confusion.
Batman is remembered for a lot of things — the dark knight of Gotham, Justice, vigilante, while his alter ego Brucie Wayne — Wealth, playboy and glamour.
But for the first time, the one person who knew him — all of him — remembered Bruce Wayne because of roses.
"Yes, my beautiful husband. These red roses reminded me of you." Your voice is soft as you look up at him with your chin on your palm, elbows on the desk.
"Thank you, sweetheart"
Bruce leans down and kisses you on the lips, before laying a soft one on your forehead.
JASON TODD
Jason was away in Star City for a mission, staying at Roy's place. He would be back later today, and you had decided to surprise him. The past few months had been very hectic for Jason. From missions that sometimes lasted months to patrols that never synced with your work timings, you hardly got to see each other.
That's why you had decided to plan a mini reading event that would last for a few days, after taking off from work and mentioning it to the Outlaws and his family.
As the first step, you had decided to welcome your best friend with an assortment of flowers and copies of some of the books off his TBR carefully covered in wrapping paper. Jason had been wanting them for a long time but hadn't had the chance to buy them yet.
You had just finished wrapping the books when Jason texted you about reaching Gotham and that he would be at your place in an hour. With a curve to your lips, you set down the phone after replying with a thumbs up.
You met Jason after a quick detour to the bookstore. Five-minute conversations about books had turned to hours of texting, to later hanging out at each other's places. Over the course of your friendship, he had revealed his nightly activities and even introduced you to some of his teammates and family.
Both of you are good friends, though you both ached it would be more than that.
A few moments later, a knock on the front door has you cleaning haphazardly after realising how messy your living room was. Jason is early, like he always is. He's clad in a leather jacket, red t-shirt stretched across his chest, that you couldn't really indulge in the sight as he pulls you into a hug. The fresh smell of his shampoo and perfume fills your nostrils as you nuzzle into his chest.
"How have you been, Jason?" you ask, now looking at his face. Red sprouts in blossoms across his face as his chin tips down. That's when you notice — his right hand tucked behind.
" I'm sorry for how long it took to finally meet." Jason murmurs, before his right hand comes into view, holding a bouquet of pink peonies and two books wrapped in gift paper.
"Wait, you got —" you laugh, before running back into your room. Jason's eyebrows furrow, deepening the creases of his forehead as he sees you disappearing down the hallway.
"Please tell me, we did not get the same books." You mumble, now appearing in the doorway with the bouquet of books and peonies. Jason laughs, his palm ruffling through his hair.
" I got Taiwan Travelogue for you," Jason says, pointing at the neatly wrapped book in his palm.
" Oh my god, I got you the same along with some other books."
The air is tinged with something both of you can't place, or rather, won't place. Heat rushes through your body, the distance between you seemingly crackling with intensity so loud, though you both just ignore. You both knew each other so well, you bought the same books for each other. So why hadn't either of you taken the next step? Did he perhaps not like you?
If Stephanie had been here, she would have screamed at both of you.
"Just fucking kiss, you idiots."
Except, the words felt too real — almost like someone was actually shouting it in reality and not just in your head.
Turning back to the window of your living room, you almost drop the bouquet at the sight of not only Stephanie but also Cassandra, Tim, Dick, Duke and Damian all fighting to view inside through the small window.
Jason drags a palm across his face.
TIM DRAKE
You and Tim have been in a long-distance relationship ever since you moved out of Gotham for your job. There were a lot of ups and downs, through the course of your relationship — especially owing to the distance. But you traversed through it — Communication being the key.
But now you were here, in the Wayne manor.
After a few gruesome months of work, you had finally returned to Gotham City for a small vacation, which Tim wasn't aware of. You wanted to surprise him, and though he had his tendencies to keep track of you for safety, with the help of dick, you had managed to trick Tim into thinking you were still far, far away and not doors away from the bat cave.
Standing in front of the grandfather clock, you texted your boyfriend a link. The link being a website, you had coded yourself from scratch through tutorials and tutorials.
you: [link]
Tim has always been suspicious of links, especially since he was hyper aware of all that could go wrong with just a single click. It wasn't unusual that you sent him a link, considering the fact that you liked his opinions on some of the things you liked to buy. But just a link—with no follow-up message, was a little worrying. As Tim contemplates the link, you send another text just in time.
You: Open it fast!!
Tim huffs, a small smile on his face. The link did not open to a shopping website or something that you had learnt along the way but rather a webpage with an animated flower in the middle, a small button with the words 'Start' below it.
He clicks on it, albeit a little apprehensive and amused, when he sees the following words along with a picture of your face — eyes large and lips jutted into a pout replacing that of the flower animation.
Do you like me? — Yes or No?
Tim clicks on the 'Yes' button. The picture changes to that of you , smiling wide. His lips curve immediately at the sight, all the sleepiness bundled in his eyes, vanishing in an instant.
The web page refreshes to the next question, another picture of you — with your hands on your hips , lips pressed into a tiny frown — with the following words at the bottom.
Do you love me? — Yes or No?
He huffs, shaking his head as the words 'of course' leave his lips softly. He clicks on the 'yes' button again. Now, the frown on your face was replaced by your smile and eyes crinkling as your hands form a heart.
But the next words still him. What did you even mean by that?
Then why don't you open the door?
A small creak of the staircase has him turning his head swiftly. There you stood, in all your flesh and bones, with a bouquet of pink,red roses, and some pink lilies in between. You were here, physically just a few meters away. The minute it truly strikes Tim, he is already at your side, hugging you with his head tucked into the crook of your neck as you let out soft giggles.
"Hi, Tim." you ruffle his hair, as he kisses your neck before cupping your face and placing a kiss on your lips. You hand him the flowers, which he gently takes it and murmurs a thank you before placing it aside.
"You're here," Tim whispers. He had missed you, missed the warmth that you gave him. Sure, you guys spoke every day, but this was different.
"I am," you say, giggling, locking your wrists around his neck while his hands plant gently at your waist.
"You made the website? The one with the flowers and your pictures?" He asks, placing another kiss on your lips.
You hum.
" A lot of tutorials , and a little help from my roommate." It had been a pretty hard project for someone who had no experience in coding, but you wanted to surprise Tim through something that he loved.
"God, you're so fucking talented. I should worship you." Tim murmurs, before he starts kissing you again as giggles echo in the Bat cave.
DICK GRAYSON
Dick Grayson was used to doing things by himself.
He would be there in a minute to help others, but would never ask for help for himself. He would drop everything if he heard or even got a whiff that someone he loved was not doing well. But he hid the same about him from others. After all, he could do it by himself. He would be fine.
That was until he met you.
You made sure he took care of himself and let out his emotions frequently instead of bottling them up. It had been a while since you had a date night with your boyfriend, and so you planned one.
You made sure to act as oblivious as you could, sneaking to buy all the ingredients to make his favourite dishes. You had also informed his family beforehand so that dick would not have to patrol for the night in Bludhaven.
When Dick Grayson steps inside the apartment, he is greeted with scented candles, lit up in the hall way. The smell of cream cheese and crab meat waft through his sense, already knowing what's for dinner, which suspends all his worries away. Dick walks to the kitchen, leaning against the doorway as he sees you making some spaghetti and at the same time, stuffing the mushrooms with the crab filling.
You look up at the clock in the hallway only to see Dick Grayson leaning against the door like a model posing for cameras.
"You're early," you say, washing your hands under the sink to give your boyfriend a hug and a kiss.
" Pretty chill day at the station." Dick murmurs against your lips, "What's the special occasion?"
" Nothing. Just thought about you and decided my beautiful boyfriend deserved this." Tugging his hands off your hips, you move back to the kitchen while Dick whines at the loss of contact. " Now go and change into something comfortable."
Once Dick is in his sweatpants and a T-shirt, he is back in the kitchen, already insisting he helped you in some way or another. It takes a lot of convincing (and threats) for him to go back to the living room. Dick really wants to help you.
After a few minutes, you set the dishes down on the table — crab stuffed mushrooms and spaghetti, a pair of wine glasses and two tubs of chocolate chip ice cream for desert. 'How to lose a guy in ten days' play on the large screen, as dick gets comfortable with the cushions laid against his back. You disappear once again, to which dick immediately pouts before it widens into a smile when you come back again — with a bouquet.
You hand him the assortment of red and pink roses with a kiss on the cheek.
"To the best boyfriend in the whole world."
Dick Grayson flusters, a deep red akin to that of the red roses. His dimples deepen when he sees each stem of the flower having a tiny piece of paper attached. He reads one of them and immediately looks at you wide-eyed. Dick does the same for another piece of paper , before he pulls you into a bone crushing hug.
Each of the tiny pieces of paper attached to the stem had handwritten verses from some of his favourite poetry that he loved to read.
Dick's heart flutters at the amount of effort you had taken, taken for him. He swiftly places a hundred kisses all over your face, while you giggle, clutching the fabric of his T-shirt.
The night ends with your tummy full, movies watched, slow dancing to music, Dick reciting the verses dramatically— with his hand on his chest and arms pointed at you — and hearts filled with love. As you sleep next to him, he looks at you and wonders how he got so lucky. After all that had happened in his life, he didn't know how he still deserved you. The flowers were now in a vase on the table, and the notes — delicately packed into a box. Best believe, Dick is going to read these notes when you exchange vows during the wedding.
He presses one last kiss onto your forehead before shuffling closer to you. Dick was going to pay a visit to Poison Ivy and ask all the ways he could extend the lifetime of those flowers.
A/N: The next part will be with Roy, Clark, Barbara, Wally!!
Dick is worried about his dick.
A/N: writing this in the dead of the night, so not proofread! tried humor, lot of mentions of dick (his name and literally), suggestive (wc: 750)
reblogs and comments appreciated (MDNI)
"Owww…FUCK"
Dick falls of the bed, on his knees and back hunched over with his eyes squeezed shut as more curses leave his mouth.
You scramble to the edge of the bed, murmuring apologies. It was never your intention to greet your boyfriend after a long undercover mission with a kick to his nuts.
But honestly, who surprises their partner the way he did, especially in a city like Bludhaven?
You had just returned from work, locking the front door before placing your bag on the couch. The sun's glimmering last rays splayed across your bedroom, highlighting the thick white duvet in streaks of golden.
You really just wanted to throw yourself onto the bed and forget about all that had happened in the last 6 hours at work. But not in your work clothes. And so you begrudgingly pulled yourself to take a shower, a brief one, just enough to be called a shower, before you hopped into your pajamas.
The bed sits at the very center, a thick cotton duvet draped haphazardly. You did not have the time nor the patience to make the bed in the morning with how late you were to work.
You stifle a yawn, eyes blurry, going over to your side of the mattress. Looking at the empty space next to you, a small frown paints at your lips.
Your dear, beautiful, and hot boyfriend wasn't here. Hasn't been here since the past ten days and would not be here for another four days. You missed his touch on the expanse of your skin, his warmth emanating from behind, holding you close to his chest; his husky voice whispering praises; and his soft plush lips that would smother you in kisses and giggles.
You could do this.
Just another four more days.
Or so you thought.
The minute you sit on the soft mattress, the duvet seemingly hugs you, pulling you in. It almost takes you a minute before you realize it was not your comforter but a human as you feel the warmth radiating through the cotton fabric.
A shriek leaves your parted lips, hands and legs flaying back onto the intruder's chest and legs. You could hear him speak, but nothing your mind could comprehend at the moment. Your right leg had finally hit something that made your captor fall off the bed—groaning.
Hah!
the way dick had taught you.
except said intruder was Dick Grayson—your boyfriend and the man who was not supposed to be home for a few more days. He was in a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt.
"Dick, what the fuck?" you shout at him before joining him on the carpet. "Are you okay?"
Your hands hang in the air, not sure where to place them.
"Yeah, I will be fine…just give me a minute." He mumbles, standing on his very shaky legs, hand hovering over his groin while his back remains hunched as he moves to the bathroom. "Just give me a minute."
Now, an hour later, the both of you are sitting against the headboard of your bed while he has a cold pack wrapped in a thin cotton cloth over his groin. He had been whining about his dick for the past thirty minutes.
Dick was worried about his dick.
"Why would you even think it was a good idea in the first place?"
"I don't know," he mumbles, bringing his arm over his eyes. You couldn't help but let out a chuckle, quickly placing a palm over your mouth considering the subject of your humor was right next to you. Crystal blue eyes narrow before they squeeze as reality strikes—groaning at every slight movement of his body, his lips finally jutting into a pout.
You move closer to him, cupping his face before placing your lips against his soft ones. The position was awkward with your necks twisted at an angle that would hurt in the long run, but it was not like you could straddle him. You move away before his tongue could slither in.
"Nope, you need to take rest," you say, already sneaking under the comforter. If you guys had continued further, it would have really just left both of you horny with no way of fixing it.
"But, baby," he whines, his hands trying to clutch on to whatever he could of yours, but every movement just made his head fall back against the headboard.
"Let's go to bed, baby," you say, facing him and intertwining your hands. "I promise we can do everything you wish tomorrow."
He agrees begrudgingly ,having no choice over the matter and finally slips under the comforter.
Out of all things dick had imagined happening today to his dick, this was definitely not one of them.
Taglist:
for all works: @milkybbun @champagnesbiggestproblem @itachisrealm @batwngs @starr-jazz @arfemiz @goonette5 @currentblasphemy
summary: Three times you successfully fluster Jason and the one time he turns it on you.
pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader
warnings: reader is considered shorter than jason (he is 6'4), very suggestive so MDNI. reader has hair.
a/n: not really happy with this, but If I don't post it now, I will never post it. So here it is. I still can't write smut/suggestive shit. Reblogs and comments appreciated! Maybe OOC.
Jason Todd masterlist main masterlist
You had only one goal — fluster Jason Peter Todd as much as possible.
Once you had realized that your boyfriend — the 6'4 giant anti-hero — blushed whenever you tried doing very basic romantic gestures, the mission had cemented itself in the depths of your brain. It was almost as if just knowing the fact had altered something in your brain chemistry.
You had a whole word document dedicated to the mission — filled with ideas to fluster your cute boyfriend, ranging from teasing looks to pickup lines. You were not a good flirt but ever since the discovery of the faint blush coating his cheeks as a result of your down right bad flirting skills — it had given you just enough motivation to master the art of flirting (or at least try to).
Thus, you decided to execute the mission the following week, one strategy every day. What was the expected end result ? the sight of Jason blushing and maybe, something else.
THE LIBRARY
You and Jason loved books, one of the very first things that you both bonded over from the very start of your relationship. Hence, visits to the local bookshop and the public library of Gotham City were pretty frequent in the household.
You wander around the library, scoping out possible books you could borrow when you spot Jason leaned against the shelf, a thick book (possibly another classic) in his hands, reading the synopsis.
The library was relatively empty today as you look around for any dwelling citizens before walking towards Jason. You inspect the different books near him as you slyly inch closer and closer.
If Jason notices, he doesn't say anything.
"I have been wanting to read this for so long" you mutter, planting your right hand above his shoulder, gripping the edges of the wooden shelf and your left hand grabs the book from the other side — effectively caging him in , even though you are shorter than him.
Jason goes really still, as you keep looking at different books . He doesn't say anything, in fact you don't think he is even breathing that well, in light of how statuesque he stood. You look up just for a second to see his teal eyes focused anywhere and everywhere except on your form, a light pink layer dusted over his cheeks.
Picking out a copy of Pride and Prejudice, you start walking towards the hallway and almost let out a giggle as you hear Jason huffing.
MISSION SUCCESSFUL
TURNING THE YAPPER SPEECHLESS
There was no doubt that Jason was a total yapper. Sure, he is broody and silent but that's only till he steps inside the comfort of his home — his lover.
It's a Tuesday night, the both of you are sitting across each other on the carpeted floor as he continues talking about the absurd family tree in one of his books. The sound of his gruff voice explaining the plot filled the silence of the night.
You had your head propped up against your arm, tilted as you listened to him. for the most part at least. Jason was wearing sweatpants and a red pullover, his hair a shabby mess like he had been grabbing it in frustration. Green eyes wide and his mouth running a mile a minute — he was so passionate and so so hot.
"Are you even listening?" He mutters, eyebrows raised.
"I'm sorry, I couldn't concentrate while looking at your handsome face, baby. But continue though, I like hearing you talk."
Jason's mouth opened and closed, before he groaned, leaning his head against the couch. His head was empty , loosing the train of thoughts like it was never there to begin with. His Adam's apple bobbed, throat as dry as Sahara desert.
Under the golden light from emanating from the lamp at the corner, you couldn't see him turning red but hey at least you rendered him speechless.
That counts, right?
MISSION SUCCESSFUL
CRINGE PICK-UP LINES
The internet had everything including the most obnoxious pick-up lines that you might have come across in a while. But that was good news for you. You had decided to drop random pick - up lines at the most inappropriate times.
The first time you used them, it was raining cats and dogs in Gotham, which may not be as surprising if not for the fact that the weather reports had stated it would be the sunniest day of the year. You and Jason were returning back home from the grocery store when the sudden downpour of rain started, leading you to find safety under a yellow and white striped awning.
"Are you an umbrella? Because I urgently need to under you." you say, rubbing against his shoulder. Jason just looked away groaning , his palm covering his face though you could see the slight smile curved on his lips. Eventually though, Jason pulled you within his embrace, hands at your waist as you snuggled back into his chest.
But the mission was not really successful. So you tried again.
The second time was when the both of you were lounging on the grass in Robinson park - a small picnic date. The sound of rushing water from the fountain and cackling laughter from a group of teenagers filled the air. You were both lying on the grass, his arm behind your head as you stared at each other.
"The doctor said I lack vitamin D," you whisper to him, rubbing circles on his chest "Can you help me with giving it ?"
A mixture of emotions passed over his face - first, the look of worry at the utterance of the word 'doctor' and 'lack' in the same breath before it turned into blossoming cheeks of red and dilated pupils when he realized what you had really meant. He groaned, dragging his palm across his face.
"You should really stop doing this baby." He mutters, not looking into your eyes yet.
"It's fun, jay. But if you feel uncomf—"
"No, No that's not it" he mumbles, eyes locking with yours filled with reassurance.
"Okay, then" you hum against his chest, before looking up at him "Are you a life alert? Because I've fallen for you and can't get up."
This time Jason laughs, chest rumbling as it sends vibrations through your body.
The sun is shining, the birds are flying across the blue sky and you are lying on the plush green grass with the love of your life.
MISSION kinda SUCCESSFUL
FINGER BITE TREND
Jason was not up to date with social media trends. His go-to activity to pass time was reading or working in the garage. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for you. But it made it a whole lot easier to execute said trends.
You stood in the entry way to the kitchen. The smell of spices waft through the room while Jason slices some tomatoes, his back clad in a black compression shirt that stretched deliciously across the hard panes of his back, biceps flexing with every slice.
Jason had insisted on you not to enter the kitchen till he finished cooking dinner, which you could have followed through until the very thought of flustering Jason cemented itself in your mind. Again.
"I told you not to come." He mutters, sliding the slices onto a bowl and washing his hands in the sink.
"I know I'm sorry ," you say with a pout, gripping his biceps "Anyway, can you check if there is something stuck between my teeth?"
You smile, all pearly whites in display as your index finger points to the lower teeth near your lips. Jason leans forwards, one hand on the counter beside you , when you bite down on your finger, face a little down turned as your eyes lock with green ones.
Jason goes still, eyes tracing your face. Everything blurs around him, only you being the sole focus of his vision. Blood surges through his body , color of red roses creeping through his scarred cheeks till the tips of his ears and between his legs, if not already noticeable due to the visible tent in his sweatpants. He regains a semblance of confidence before pulling you flush against his front, enough for you to feel his hard on.
A gasp leaves your lips as he cages your body against the marble counter, tilting his head with his plush lips pulled into a smirk.
"You didn't think I would just let you go like that, did you?" Heat floods your cheeks, warming the expanse of your body.
"I uhh I -" He leans forwards, his lips a breath away from yours. You try closing the gap only for him to set you on the counter, hands at your waist.
"I-I what. You teased me all week, angel." Jason whispers, lips tracing against the column of your throat as you feel a gush of arousal between your legs. Your head falls back, giving him more access as he bends down to lick a wet stripe against the sensitive skin of your neck. A shiver runs through your body as you gripped the edges of the counter for support.
"Ja-Jay" He hums against your skin, his hand brushing through your hair while the other massages your thigh.
A/N: Maybe OOC. Do let me know what you think. Sorry the title sucks, I had no clue what to write. Comments and Reblogs appreciated.
Bruce Wayne loves showering together. Both of you are standing below the shower head, water droplets dripping across your skin. You reach for the shampoo, lathering it over his hair, threading through each strand while he does the same to you moments later. There is a certain level of intimacy when you bare your bodies for nothing sexual but just love and warmth, to let your lover see every crevice, every blemish, every scar that grazes your skin.
Bruce Wayne loves slow dancing. No, not the ones he does at Galas – Genuine but glazed with calculation, a little performative, courtesy to the audience- but the ones he does at home. His hands are on your waist, yours looped around his neck, while the soft, dim lights illuminate the room, accentuating the curve of your smile as your head tips back in a laugh at something he said. Oh, how he loves your laugh You both are in your pajamas, ready to embrace the sleep slithering at the edges. He loves dancing, he thinks, planting a kiss on your forehead, sweeping you towards the bed.
Bruce Wayne loves solving puzzles with you. Both of you are sitting on the floor of the manor library, cross legged with pieces of a jigsaw puzzle scattered but cohesive – coming together to paint the full picture. There are two bowls – chocolate-covered strawberries and popcorn – on either side of you, along with glasses of dark red wine. Your hair tickles his forehead as you lean while trying to fit the pieces, unaware of the blue warm eyes fixed on you - momentarily stunned. This was one of the reasons he loved solving puzzles in the company of you - seeing you all focused, eyes squinting with your lips pursed - you looked really sexy too.
Bruce Wayne loves going on dates – not the extravagant or planned ones (he likes them too), but the spontaneous ones- like going to the ice cream parlor or walking ace at the local park. He liked the mundane moments – where he could forget about everything else. Right then, it was only you and him.
Girl Dad! Jason who shed tears of joy when he first held his newborn, her tiny palm curling onto his finger. She had been crying incessantly, only ceasing after feeling her father’s touch. His heart filled with so much love at the tiny human gleaming, in his arms. Someone who was so little held monumental amount of trust in those tiny blue eyes.
Girl Dad! Jason who reads your daughter, books everyday - inculcating from the very start, the importance of education (after all he was an A+ student)
Girl Dad! Jason who teaches his daughter martial arts. your daughter would be the kid who could lift weights pretty early on.
Girl Dad! Jason Girl Dad! Jason who makes curated bento boxes for his daughter (and for you), filled with adequate nutrition and a little bit of junk, that kids could have at that age. He makes sure to always stick a post-it note with a positive / funny quote written on it.
Girl Dad! Jason who’d let his daughter color his tattoos.
Girl Dad! Jason who allows his daughter to practice makeup on him. Wild pink eyeshadow, dark red lipstick outlining his lips, blush strayed across his cheeks like two pink cotton cand, all accompanied with a smile that reached his eyes.
Girl Dad! Jason Jason who is in a skin tight black T-shirt that stretches across his beefy biceps and taut muscles accompanied by a black net tutu and sweatpants. Your daughter’s school had organized a mother – daughter dance segment as part of the ballet recital. Unfortunately, you had a very last minute emergency that had caused you to back out at the very last minute. Fret not! Girl Dad! Jason saves the day , wearing a tutu on stage, alongside the other mothers. Not only did he know what to do, he knew the entire routine as if he had been practicing with his daughter everyday. Videos of him go quickly viral , even earning an article from Gotham Gazette.
Girl Dad! Jason who catalogues every important moment of your daughter's life. There are not many pictures of him to look back on and he wants to change that for his daughter. So, you will see a lot of polaroid, framed photos and numerous photo albums scattered around your home.
Summary: just moments that made either them or you fall in love again and again.
Characters: Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson
c/w: Food mentioned in Jason's part. reader is alluded to be a foodie in Jason's part.
a/n: Maybe OOC. dick's part is kind of bad. but i kind of wanted to touch on that topic though, so I digress. Constructive criticisms appreciated. Will do for other characters as I read and know more . So some characters may seem OOC. Bruce's headcanon is based on the second episode of Justice League Unlimited, where he had to sing to save Diana.
Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated
Bruce Wayne doesn’t sing. Most people have heard two different versions of Bruce Wayne –cocky playboy billionaire or the gruff, raspy dark knight – but you knew of a third one, reserved only for your ears – soft, like whispering meadow.
When you fall sick, eyelids drooping and nose stuffy, Bruce drops everything to be at your side – meetings unattended and patrols shorter. You had been sick for a few days now resulting in a lack of sleep accompanied by delirious thoughts. Since childhood, what did calm you was someone – your mother, your father or even your best friend—singing a lullaby. You knew Bruce didn’t sing. He might be a good singer but you have never heard him. There’s nothing to lose in asking, though.
“Can you sing a lullaby for me?” you whisper, voice muddled from your face mushed against his chest. He had insisted you lay close to him even though you pleaded no, at the thought of him falling sick. But Bruce just held you even closer.
Bruce Wayne does not hesitate, as his voice drifts into a melodious sweep like waves to the ocean, stars to the sky, singing the lyrics of ‘you are my sunshine’. Your eyes widen a little, glancing at him to find any tinge of discomfort at your request but there was nothing other than a calm, serene expression shadowing his face. Blue eyes filled with so much love that you can never measure, meets yours, as he caresses your face while singing the lyrics.
Your eyes finally close, his arms tightening around your waist, drifting to your dreams as his voice guides you, every step of the way.
Jason Todd learned to cook as a child on the streets. That was the only way he could fill his stomach. Learning different recipes from neighbors, had made him one of the better cooks out of the bat-family later down the line, even at the ripe age of 12.
But after coming back as red hood—the boy who crawled out of his grave, the robin who was killed by Joker—he resorted to takeaways and Alfred’s cooking, though only occasionally the latter. Everything changed when he met you.
It all started on a random friday, during the first month of your relationship, when he decided to cook dinner after a date at the amusement park. You had come over several times, bringing either takeaways or food you cooked.
But for the first time in years, Jason cooked. He brought the required ingredients the day before , even cooked a trial serving and made Tim taste it. Jason wanted you to like it. He knew you loved food the way humans loved dogs – best friends.
Jason mixed the cooked spaghetti and the sauce made out of roasted onions and pepper, garlic along with milk. He hummed, back towards you as he listened to you rambling about the gossip you overheard at the amusement park. Jason was listening – kind of – while prepping the dining table. Now there were two glass plates, pasta on the center of each , with basil leaves arranged on top. He urged you to take a bite while leaning on his hands watching you with a gaze riddled with anticipation and hope.
“Oh my god” you mutter , swallowing the cream coated spaghetti strip as the texture washes over your throat, taste buds divulging the flavour. It felt as if you were on a cloud, drifting through the abyss , taking in the fresh air. Your body thrummed with exhilaration as your hunger doubled.
“this is so fucking good, jay” you exclaimed, taking another bite before you could even let the words slip out.
Satisfied, Jason took his own bite and it tasted ten times better that he expected, now that he knows you liked it. And maybe that’s what drove him to cook different recipes every night before he went for his nightly patrols. He watched YouTube videos diligently and had even recently started a collection of cookbooks.
Tim Drake does not sleep. It's well known among his friends and family that he barely gets to bathe in the comfort of his own bed, balancing both vigilante and as the CEO of Wayne Enterprises.
But that changes when you come into the picture. It starts slow, subtle. He starts taking naps, heeding your advice about medical issues you keep studying about. He knew about them before of course, but never felt obliged to follow.
When he checks his fitness tracker, vibrant blue eyes widen in disbelief. He had slept for 8 hours. 8 hours. How long had it been since he lay in the comfort of the overpriced mattress . That’s when he realises he is not even in said mattress. Thick fluffy sheets pool at his chest as he realises the warmth of another behind him, against his back. Eyes glancing behind his shoulder, he sees you, cheek smushed against his back, lips pouted as even breaths come out. He relishes in your beauty, eyes memorising your face, breathing in your movements like oxygen.
Maybe, he could sleep just a little more. Everything else could wait.
Dick Grayson the man who smiles, flirts and fights. All in one package. But no one can be smiling every time. And you remind him of that. It's not firm or controlling, but just a gentle, warm space, open to him anytime. It happens slowly, his walls crumbling as you take each brick away with a smile.
He starts on his own accord, cuddling to your chest as he mutters what he feels – even if it's something as simple as “I am kind of sad” – while your fingers run through his hair.
You had noticed the way dick bottled up emotions, liquid brimming against the locked cap of a bottle. For example, It happened in the hallway leading to your home, after he had received some news regarding the titans . You could feel the warmth dissipating to becoming something cold – like ice melting over hot chocolate, snuffing out its taste leaving only remnants – yet, he pushed all that down and smiled, lips curving, dimples deepening, but it was not the same. There were more fleeting moments that you had observed through days and nights – as a vigilante and as his girlfriend.
One day, you decided to tell him what had been aching in your chest for a while. The both of you were lounging on the coach , as the colors emanating from the television, created a painting over the two of you. You had your head propped in his lap as he toyed with the remote control. You poked his tummy, giggling when he looked at you with a toothy smile.
“Richard” you whisper, tracing his forearm clung over your waist “ no one is happy all the time. You don’t have to be. Even if you want to, wear that mask outside the walls of our home. But once you are here, just know that you can be anything you want” you lock eyes with him “ anything you want”
Ever since then, dick opened up – slowly but steadily. Happy, sad, annoyed, angry. He felt a lot lighter, like something slowing had been lifted off his chest. Even his friends and family noticed how he had been more carefree and attuned with his emotions.
