no rules at the moment! just a loving request to please reblog my work if you enjoyed it :)
requests are also open! thereâs no promise that i will do a request but they are always open if youâd like to ask for a certain thing <3
smut â fluff âĄ
Redacted Audio fanfics
sam and darlin' imagines
DC fanfics
tim drake x reader
good husband ââĄ
after a drunken facetime accidentally reveals tim drakeâs long-term girlfriend to the rest of the batfamily, one very intoxicated night ends with bathroom floor confessions, a ruined blouse, and a marriage proposal tim barely remembers the next morning. unfortunately for him, he means every word.
dick grayson x reader
after-hours pt1 ââĄ
working your way through med school by dancing at gothamâs most infamous club was never supposed to collide with your personal life â especially not when your best friend is Dick Grayson. but when the batfamily starts investigating your workplace and one bad night leaves bruises you canât explain away, the secret youâve spent years burying begins to unravel faster than you can stop it.
jason todd x reader
burger run âĄ
working late nights at a gotham diner wasnât supposed to involve serving Red Hood cheeseburgers and arguing over the bill. but after a failed attempt to undercharge the cityâs most infamous vigilante ends with a hundred-dollar tip shoved into your hoodie pocket, he keeps coming back â and suddenly your quiet little diner feels a lot less ordinary.
This is totally not based off a true story or anything buuuuut
SMAU where Reader is repeatedly warned not to try and crack their bones so aggressively and ends up having to text their partner and explain that they might need to go to the hospital because they dislocated something
The Hospital??
featuring: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Wally West
warning: panicking and dramatic bfs, dislocation mentioned, hospital, tim being a little stalker (not in a bad way thoâŠ)
A/N: Can you tell that I had a lot of fun writing Wallyâs part?? LMAOO, I hope youâre doing okay now and of course I hope you enjoy reading this<33
Okay sorry for the delay. So up today is the feared and sometimes dreaded tag lists. Letâs define Tag Lists. A tag list is a collection of tumblr usernames for people/readers who want a mention for your story. I will break down the pros and cons of tag lists and some other specifics. Hopefully this helps.
Types of Tag Lists: Some people have one tag list and you get tagged in all their work no matter what. Others have separate lists for each character/person they write, or for each series. For myself, I have a perm list which means you are tagged in everything, a list for just Tom stories, a list for just Loki stories, and lists for each of my current series. Do what works for you.
Pros of Tag Lists: It guarantees someone knows when you have posted a new story. That is exposure and hopefully helps you get and keep readers engaged. Often things get lost on a Tumblr dash, I often miss great stories even though I follow people.
Cons of Tag Lists: They can be a hassle to use and maintain. Tag list can be cumbersome. Names donât always work (TIP: If your blog is not visible (that button is not checked or you got marked as explicit, you canât usually be tagged). I have yet to find a good way to keep it organized. Â
How to Tag Someone: super easy, just put the @ symbol and then type their username. Common names will pop up in a window, so your ride and dies are easy to tag. Â
Where to Put Your Tag List: This is a personal preference. Some people put it at the end of the fic, which I think is a great idea if you have a super long list. I put mine at the beginning so I donât forget (which I still do sometimes!)
How to Start a Tag List: Often you donât choose the tag list life, the tag list life chooses you. Meaning you post something and it is so good that people ask you to tag them in the follow up chapter or your other work. You can also make a post telling people your tag list/s are open and to reply, ask, and/or message to be added. If you are doing a series, you can add in your header that you will add people to the tag list in the next chapter if you want. Some people only open tag list for a period of time. Again, do what works for you.
And hopefully this is a helpful guide to tag lists. Let me know if there are topics you want me to cover. Â
|Â Synopsis: The two times Jason almost told you he liked you, and the one time he finally did.
|Â Fluff. Some swearing. 3k words
| Important A/N: I am very sad while posting this tonight. After posting a sneak peak of this in my 'WIP List' a week ago, someone copied and wrote my exact idea days later (unashamedly with the exact same synopsis), and I only found out while browsing the Jason x reader tag last night. (Here is the link to my OG post so you can check the postdate for proof). I'm beyond upset because they uploaded their work before I got a chance to share mine, and I'm worried now people will accuse me of copying themđ. I almost just deleted this entirely, but that would mean hours of work lost. It's one thing to be inspired, but to use the exact same words on such a specific fic without asking is not okay! Anyways, sorry for rant. Please enjoy.
The first time, it was a slip of the tongue. It was as an honest mistake too, one he was surprised he hadnât made long agoâŠ
That day, like with most days, Jason had preferred to spend it with you.
On one of your many adventures in the winter months, the two of you had found a used bookstore that Jason had come to love, both for the books but also for the hours he could spent with you more or less uninterrupted. It was rundown and smelt heavily of dust and old paper, owned by a little old widow named Mrs. Ruth who liked to pinch his cheeks when saw him. And while Jason thought the location was significantly less important than the company he kept, the rusty shop walls had quickly grown on him, much like the mold near the windows kept growing on the drywall.
It had become something of a secret, one made more special from sharing it with you.
You both hung out there so often lately that Mrs. Ruth had come to expect you, smiling cheerfully when she saw her favorite pair enter the shop. She was nice enough to let you both come in and stay as long as you wanted, just so long as you promised to help her unload new donations whenever they got dropped off, to which you both happily agreed to. A small price to pay for a guaranteed respite from Gotham rain.
âHorror is overrated,â he scoffs on that faithful day, careful hands skimming through the bundles of donated books at his feet.
He was quietly impressed; it was a good haul this week. 15 boxes, each one overfilled with decent quality paperbacks. Must of been a charity thing.
The banter between you both was effortless, but the bickering came just as easily; just as craved.
âSoâs being a vigilante⊠yet here we are.â you fire back, making sure your voice was low enough for only him to hear.
Not that you thought Mrs. Ruthâs 80-year-old ears were perky enough to pick up on your words- often you had to yell while right in front of her- but there was something undeniably more playful about whispering an insult than yelling it.
âI think,â he interjects as he takes a few books out, âyouâre just jealous.â
âI think, youâre a dork,â you correct, focusing on sorting the chaos of your own pile, momentarily distracted by the embroidery on an artsy cover.
âAnd I think I love y-â and he catches himself.Â
Thank fuck he catches himself.Â
The words had come too easily. Being with you lately had become way too easy. You didnât seem to notice his grave slip up- too preoccupied with appreciating the covers of a fresh pile of dramas- and thank fuck for that too, because he wouldnât have known what to do if you had.
Jason Todd liked you, and it was far past the point of friendly. But he wasnât ready to accept what that meant. Not yet.Â
He goes back into digging in his own box, hoping his ears stop burning by time you look back up.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The second time, it happens in the quiet sanctuary of the Belfry, and you had been the one to make the first step.Â
Well, kind of.
That night, you had heard through the grapevine, also known as Barbara Gordon, that one Helena Bertinelli had come to visit Gotham. Her visit (or more accurately, her mission) had been a short and successful one, but she apparently had one more goal in mind before disappearing again.
And that goal had been to ask out the infamous Red Hood to a night out and dinner.Â
It was the kind of gossip that would have left you sick to the stomach and with a broken heart if not for the smug update Barbara had been quick to bestow to youâwhile yes the Huntress had asked, the Hood had said no.Â
And just like that, the huge weight in your stomach had turned to featherlight butterflies. Those pesky bugs had yet to leave, even as you found yourself in his presence hours later.
He had said no.
You werenât sure when exactly your feelings for him had evolved, but with each passing day it was becoming more and more of a chore to lie to yourself. To lie to him. The only thing keeping your silly crush at bay had been the fear of rejection and potentially ruining your friendship, refusing to ever bring up your feelings for him until you knew with utmost certainty that he felt the same.
Was this it? What this that moment?
He had said no.
Jasonâs working on his bike when you enter the tower, his brow furred in the way it always was when he was focused on something.
âSoâŠâ you hum in a singsong voice, pretending to look over his handiwork as if you knew what he was doing. As if it actually interested you right now.
Amused, he raises an eyebrow as his eyes follow you, your suspicious behavior not going unnoticed.
Not that you were genuinely trying to hide it.
âI heard through the grapevine that Huntress asked you out on a date.â You smile at him impishly, and he rolls his eyes and turns away.
âBy grapevine,â he scoffs, moving back to the machinery, âI take it you mean Barbara?â
You shrug, still playing the part of pure innocence.
ââŠWell?â You ask, and he just shakes his head.
âWell what, sweetheart?â
The name makes your heart do flips in your chest. It wasnât the first time he called you a pet name, but it had always seemed platonic in the past. It didnât feel that way anymore.
âDid you say yes?â You urge despite knowing the answer already, finding yourself needing that confirmation.
You needed to hear it from him. Needed it, like your lungs needed air. Like your life needed Jason. And with the way his shoulders suddenly tensed up, he must have sensed your feelings too.
He takes a deep breath before turning to look out you. His eyes are warm in a way that was different then how he usually looked at you. It was almost foreign. He looked vulnerableâ scared.
âNo. I told her no.â He murmurs, and the butterflies multiply.
âIs she not your type?â You ask just a breath too eager, inching into a territory you knew you wouldnât be able to get back from.
Judging by the subtle blush that now dusted his cheeks, Jason felt it as well. He makes no effort to stop it.
ââŠNo. She isnât.â He breathes out, eyes scanning over the fuel system of his bike so he wouldnât have to look at you in that moment.
You knew what he was doing. You push anyways, and heâs so thankful that you do.
âWho is your type?â You murmur, and take another step towards him.
He looks up at you again, and there is a rawness in his eyes you hadnât ever seen before. Not fear, not anymore. It was yearning. It makes you take another step closer. And then another one. He takes one too.
He reaches a tentative hand toward you like he canât decide if he should pull you close, and you reach out to entwine your fingers through his. He shudders; It was a perfect a fit, like his flesh had been molded with the sole purpose of holding yours. Jason looks you over with a desperation that matched yours, his mouth opening to say the words you waited months to hear.
âŠWhat you hear instead is the hooting and hollering coming from a discarded intercom, the dramatic voice recognizable even through the static.
You both pull back, startled. The moment was gone.Â
âAnyone have any updates on the Croc situation? Or just want some company? Iâm lonely. Over.â Dick continues, completely oblivious to what he just interrupted.
Jason hisses at the sound and glares dagger towards it, running a hand through his hair as he curses his brother out with passion and vocabulary only an expert booklover could have possessed. It shouldnât be funny- you should be fuming that the moment was ripped from the both of you- but when you hear him mutter the term âplague soreâ all you can do is laugh.Â
The sound catches him off guard from his Shakespearean rant, but after a few seconds of basking in the sound of your cackles, Jason tries to laugh too, mostly to diffuse the thickness still in the air.
The smile doesnât reach his eyes.
This was the second time he had almost told you he liked you, and he while he had escaped from facing the repercussions once again, he knew in his gut that next time he wouldnât be spared, and he would have to face you and tell you what heâs wanted to for months.Â
The prospect frightened him, but with the way your laughter was making his heart beat, he knew it was inevitable.Â
After allâŠ
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Third timeâs the charm.Â
It had been almost a week since the almost confession. The almost kiss.
It was also almost his birthday, and you were clinging to the haphazardly wrapped gift in your hands like your life depended on it. Well⊠maybe life was too far a stretch, but your breathing certainly depended on the feeling of the crinkly plastic beneath your fingers.
You had wanted to wait for the actual day to give it to him, really you did. But there was a new sense of impatience in the air as of recently, and it seemed it would not be so kind as to spare his birthday.
Especially with what the gift was, and what it meant once you gave it to him.
After the incident at the Belfry, and the almost success of you making the first move, you were only inspired to try once again. Jason wasnât shy by any means; at least he hadnât seemed to be in the time you had known him, but he was frustratingly very good at hiding what he really felt when the situation hinted towards romance.
Being the good friend that you were (and hopefully after today, something more), you had decided for him. Enough was enough.
So here you were, knocking on his apartment at 8:16 in the morning.
Immediately you can hear the frantic, panicked thumps of his feet through the door- surely you wouldnât be here so early if you werenât okay?- and you felt bad for not feeling bad at all. He opens its and instantly looks you over, his hair disheveled and eyes red with exhaustion.
You had woken him up, that much was obvious, but instead of anger all he had for you was concern.
âWhatâs wrong? Are you okay? What happened?â
Your heart flutters as you take him in. Woken up in a start and the first thing he had been was worried about you. You take a deep breath to steady yourself. You hadnât heard the peephole move either. He had recognized you by the sound of your knock.
The butterflies were quick to come back.
âNothing, I just wanted to see you.â
âW-what?â He rubs his eyes like he didnât hear you properly.
âI just wanted to see you.â You repeat, fidgeting with the gift you were still hiding behind your back, âI have your birthday gift and I wanted to give it to you.â
You move around him to get out of the doorway, walking into his living room while offering him a sheepish smile. The alertness in his posture slowly fades as he registers your words.
He looks at you bewildered, more tired than ever.
âBut⊠my birthdayâs not until next week,â he says sleepy and exasperated, and you canât help but laugh.
âI know that, Iâm here to give it to you early! What kind of friend do you think I am, I have your birthday memorized.â
âOh.â He says, and he offers you a small smile back. âCan I have it, then?â
âTsk. Patience is a virtue, you know.â you chide, but thereâs no real bite behind it. You donât think you would be able to wait another minute either to be honest. His gift is still tucked away behind your back, but it wouldnât have take a masterclass detective to figure out you were hiding it back there. Youâre looking at him with a giddy smile, practically bouncing with excitement.
Jason isnât able to stop the growing smile that spreads across his sleepy face. Patience is absolutely not his virtue. But your excitement is just so damn infectious, so damn sweet, standing there with your mysterious little gift behind your back and that soft goddamn smile on your face... God, he's smitten. Yeah, he could be patient for you, even at 8am in the morning. If thatâs what you wanted him to be.
âAre you ready?â You ask, butterflies swarming.
"Yeah, yeah. Ready.â he laughs, eyes fixed on you in intense anticipation.
Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you slowly move the gift from behind your back and hand it to him. You bite your lip nervously, watching as he takes the colorful thing and begins to gently rip off the wrapping paper.
It was now or never.
Heâs quick with his fingers, the wrapping paper falling away to reveal an old, lovingly torn book that has been clearly reread a hundred times, littered with multiple sticky tabs and annotations all around the edges. The spine was breaking and the pages smelled like dust. To anyone else, it wouldnât have meant anything, maybe even have been junk. But Jason wasnât just anybody, and he recognizes what it was immediately. He freezes.
You begin to fidget. You know that he knows what it is, but you canât help but want to explain yourself anyways.
âItâsâŠitâs the first book you ever recommended to me. The one you bought for me back at our bookstore? I wrote all my thoughts and annotations in it since then; shit, I must of read it a dozen times. I also got Mrs. Ruth to sign it inside and write a few things on her favorite parts, since she had been so stoked that I was reading it⊠You know, just to make it more specialâŠâ and your voice fades away.
His fingers, rough and calloused, pause over the bookâs worn cover. He remembers every damn detail about giving you this book like it had been yesterday. And now here it was, returned with your touch all over every page.
Your face is warm, and youâre glad heâs too busy staring at the gift to notice how utterly dorky you look right now. You continue to speak to fill up the quiet room.
âI know I donât share my feelings with you all the time. Or I guess, I donât say what I feel, even when I feel it for you. And feel it bad. When I know you feel it too.â Tentatively you beckon to the book.
âI found it easier to write out my thoughts than just deal with them silently, and I figured you would appreciate that, especially with this book. I know you mentioned being super curious on what I thought about it, so I wrote everything. Thoughts, feelings, plot guesses, who I liked⊠all that. Just⊠Everything.â
Jason stares down at the book in his hands, completely stunned. His jaw clenches, like he's having to physically keep himself from getting too emotional. No one has...no one's done anything even remotely close to this for him before. No one has put this much goddamn thought, this much care, into a gift. He feels his chest tighten, a lump starting to form in his throat as he gently opens the book to a random page. He immediately sees the first annotation and it's like a hit straight to the goddamn chest.
You look over and see what heâs looking at, a cheesy smile taking over when you recognize the page. It was at a section where the main character finally confronts her soulmate to tell him she loved him, after finally having the courage to do so. On the page, you had made a note: âI hope to be this brave for you too, one dayâ.
He doesnât move, just stares down at the silly gift that looks much smaller in his large hands. You gulp, slightly nervous that this gift was stupid, or too much, or too clear, but it was done. The ball was in his court now.
There was no words that could be taken back. No Nightwingâs to ruin the moment. Just you, him, and a gift that could change everything. One you hoped would.
His voice comes out rough when he finally speaks again.
"Honey..." And he sounds completely fucking wrecked.
Your heart beats frantically in your chest.
Jason canât help the way his fingers tremble ever so slightly as they trace over the words you wrote. Your hope, your vulnerability, your fucking heart, splayed out in ink for him to see. He had spent countless nights worried you would never know of his love for you due to his own cowardice, and yet here it is, returned right back to him, written down in a way that he can hold onto forever.
He looks back at you, his expression completely raw. You look back at him, with a burning that is just as bright.
He slowly puts the book down, and walks over to you like heâs being pulled by an invisible leash. He wraps his arms around your waist to pull you in, and does what he should of done about two incidents ago.
âI love you,â he says, and heâs ready this time.
He closes the distance and pulls you in for a kiss.
practice (requested! + nsfw)
tim drake x fem!reader
mentions: friends to lovers, oral sex (f!recieving), we pushin the pathetic!tim agenda, reader talks tim thru it, praises, dirty talk, pussy drunk! tim, uh is that all
(was debating between this or dom!tim but where's the fun in that?)
âwaitâ so let me get this straight. you show up at my doorstepâ
âyesâ
âsending me sos messagesâ
â that tooâ
âto ask on how to eat out girlsâ
ââŠ. yes?â
you blinked twice, staring at a very flustered tim as he sat on your couch beside you and looking everywhere but your eyes. you didnât expect your best friend to show up on your doorstep in the middle of the night with an sos for sex education
âlookâ i know its so suddenâ he brought his hands up defensively. âbut i-i couldnât stop thinking about my date tomorrow and im so nervousâ
you raised an eyebrow as the corner of your lips tugged. âdidnât know youâd get straight to the point for a first dateâ you teased, making tim groan and cover his red face with a shake of his head before finally looking up at yours. âcan you help me or not?â
âim still shocked you donât know how to eat pussy, you dated stephanie brown and cassie sandsmark for godâs sakeâ
âi do! its just⊠been a while, considering this is my first date in a whileâ
âare you a virgin tâ"
tim exclaimed your name, making him groan and already regretting coming to you. âenoughâ he sighed as you were quietly chuckling. âhey relax, im just playing with youâ you reassured softly with a smile, watching tim sharply exhale to calm himself
âalright thenâ you turned your body to face him, now taking your poor friendâs situation seriously. âwhat do you need to know?â
âeverythingâ tim responded, making you blink once. âoâŠkay but first, tell me what you already knowâ you said as you saw him nervously trying to remember. âuhâŠâ
âyou havenât got laid in a while, havenât youâ
â⊠patrols have been hecticâ
you let out a sigh, now knowing what you were working with. âtim drake, what have you been doing in your free timeâŠâ and before he could actually respond, you immediately hushed up with a finger raised as a silent plead for him to not continue. you dont know if your respect or sympathy for tim increased
you knew just telling him wouldnât cut it out, especially since men were usually visual learners, which made an idea pop up
âwanna try it out with me?â
your casual words made timâs eyes immediately widen, the blush coming back but intense as it spread not just on his face, but to the tip of his ears. âdonât joke around like thatâ he murmured
âim seriousâ you clarified, shifting a bit closer to him. âi know if i just told you how to eat, youâd probably forget everything when an actual pussy is in front of your faceâ tim could see the seriousness in your eyes, how you werenât joking around with himâ how you were offering yourself for him
ââŠare you sure?â barely a whisper came out from his lips. âi donât want to force you⊠and wouldnât this change⊠you knowâ he gestured between him and youâ more specifically, your friendship that has lasted for years. tim didnât want you to put yourself in an uncomfortable position for his problem
but you just smiled softly as a reassurance. âim sure, tim. do you want to do it?â you asked, wanting to make sure he had a say in this. the moment he looked down and shyly nodded, you slowly tilted his chin up for his eyes to face yours, slowly leaning your face to his till your lips were inches away from his. you could see how his breath slightly hitched and his eyes went down to your lips
âthen what are friends for?â you whispered, closing the distance by placing your lips on his. tim froze, but only for a second before his eyes fluttered shut and his lips moved in sync, moving his hand to hold your jaw and the other sliding to your waist as his sounds were swallowed by your mouth
slowly, tim leaned forward. you spread your thighs, your foot placed on the floor while the other leg was thrown over timâs shoulder, feeling his hips nest in between your thighs.
âgood thing you still know how to kiss a girlâ you murmured on his lips before you softly gasped, feeling his lips trail lower to your neck and collarbone. you felt his hand tug on the shirt, his way of asking if he could take it offâ in which you gladly did so.Â
you slightly lifted yourself up, tim watching you take your shirt and bra off with blown eyes and pants leaving his lips. your boobs came to view, nipples already hard from the cold air holding them
timâs hands decided to help you by taking your panties off and lord, did he miss the sight. your pussy was right there, the clit already throbbing and glistening with arousalâ all enough for his mouth to almost drool
his lips trailed from your stomach all the way to your inner thigh, positioning himself and now facing your cunt
âcmon, pretty boyâ you smiled, a hand burying itself in timâs hair. âi know you want a tasâ oh fuckâ
tim licked a long stripe of your cunt, a loud moan leaving your lips and gripping his hair tighter from how warm his tongue was, while a moan left him from your taste on his tongueâ a divine tasteÂ
tim looked up at you with blown eyes that were silently asking if what he did was correct. you caught his gaze immediately. âmhmâ you looked down with half-lidded eyes. âkeep going, but start off slowâ
his arm locked around the leg that was thrown over his shoulder while his other hand was placed on your thigh to keep them spread. tim went back for another taste, his tongue going slowâ just like you instructedÂ
âuh huh, little higherâ thaaaaats itâ you sighed, your hand twitching in his hair and slightly nudging his face more to your pussy. a muffled moan was heard from him, both the vibration of his sound and his tongue making you let out a soundÂ
âfuckâfuuuuuuck timâ you moaned, knocking your head back. âyou didn't forget shitâ your other hand was gripping the mattress of your couch, panting. timâs eyes didnât leave yours, watching and observing your expressions to see if he was doing something rightâ when in fact, he was doing everything rightÂ
your taste made him addicted, heavy pants often leaving his busy mouth as his pace started to speed up. âso goodâ he moaned. âfuck, you taste divineâ
and when you felt his tongue brush on a spot just right, it made you immediately cry out. âright there! t-thatsâs itâ ohhhh fuckâattaboy, mmmmâ
muscle memory began to kick in and timâs tongue focused on the spot that made your hips slightly jerk back, jaw locked in and his entire mouth on your soaking pussy with muffled sounds leaving his busy lipsÂ
âmore, more, more, mmmâ
âcanât stopâ shitâ
âwanna taste your cum, pleasepleasepleaseââ
that made a dazed grin form on your lips. âyeah? want me to soak your chin with my cum?â you cooed, burying his face deep that the tip of his nose was nudging on your clit.
that familiar knot was slowly breaking and breaking, all from each stroke of his tongue. your thighs clamp over his head and your grip in his hair tightened. âtim iâ shit, iâm gonna cumâ you moaned, feeling your body lock up
âgive it to meâ he murmured on your cunt. âwantâ" lick. ââeveryâ" lick. â-dropâ lick.
your orgasm came hard, clit pulsing like crazy on his tongue as hot waves of cum came out of you. even there, tim doesnât stop. his mouth kept sucking and his tongue kept stroking, drinking every last drop like nectar Â
âoh, ohâ he moaned, rolling his eyes to the back of his head as your cum dripped from his chin. âso good, soâ mmm, cant get enoughâ he sobbed
once the buzz faded, you collapsed on the couch, panting as tim lifted his head from your legs. he was panting, eyes half lidded and locked with yours. his chin was soaked from your orgasm, his lips coated before licking them off clean and immediately going to meet your lipsÂ
your grip on his hair tightened and you moaned on his mouth, tasting your residue on his tongue. a small hiss left tim from your grip on his hair, not tight enough to hurt but enough to send sensations to his body
slowly, both of you broke the kiss, tim hovering on top of you as he held eye contact. âhowâ how was it?â tim panted
hands down the best orgasm youâve ever had in your life, but you were too breathless to say that. once you caught your breath, you gave him a dizzy nod. âlike you never forgotâ
who would have known that tim drake was an eater, and an amazing one at thatÂ
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 canâ" 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 wasnât 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.
"âŠfor 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 â the dark knight of Gotham, Justice, vigilante, while his alter ego Brucie Wayne â Wealth, playboy and  glamour.
But for the first time, the one person who knew him â all of him â 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 â 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 â" 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 â 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 â especially owing to the distance. But you traversed through it â 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 linkâwith 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 â eyes large and lips jutted into a pout replacing that of the flower animation.
Do you like me? â 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 â with your hands on your hips , lips pressed into a tiny frown â with the following words at the bottom.
Do you love me? â 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 â 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 â 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 dramaticallyâ with his hand on his chest and arms pointed at you â 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 â 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!!
Batman is remembered for a lot of things â the dark knight of Gotham, Justice, vigilante, while his alter ego Brucie Wayne â Wealth, playboy and glamour.
But for the first time, the one person who knew him â all of him â remembered Bruce Wayne because of roses.
I need to get this man an office full of roses so he knows that he is loved đ
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.
All of them being there is hilarious. You would think that vigilantes would have better things to do lol
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.
I adore clingy Tim- he is my favorite also the website is such a cute idea!!!
The night ends with your tummy full, movies watched, slow dancing to music, Dick reciting the verses dramaticallyâ with his hand on his chest and arms pointed at you â 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 â delicately packed into a box. Best believe, Dick is going to read these notes when you exchange vows during the wedding.
This whole paragraph is just so amazing. He deserves all the nice things even if he doesnât believe it. I love how he is planning the wedding already- itâs adorable đ„°
I love this so much and I am so excited for part two!!!!
saw ur post for tim recs ,, tutor tim has been on my mind but i never go through with it cus it would lwk hurt my pride to get tutored by tim đ€Ł i just know hed be so annoying OR OMG reader tutoring tim who pretends to need it to get close to reader.. but that would only work if theyâre oblivious to who he is probably me thinks
YESS I SEE YOUR VISION ANON
TUTORING TIM DRAKE ??
âI just donât really understand this concept.â Liar. He could solve this equation in 10 seconds but you donât need to know that.
âYou? Tim Drake? Canât do basic maths?â You question, genuinely amused.
He shakes his head with a sheepish smile. âNot basic maths. This bit just confuses me.â He points at his college worksheet.
So you sit next to him, knees brushing under the table, voice steady and patient as you go over the concept with him, occasionally asking some follow up questions that he pretended to hesitate before asking.
âYou got it?â You ask, stopping writing for a moment, your eyes flicking to his. He stares back, cheeks a little flushed and he nods.
âMmm I think so, could you explain the last part again though, please?â He just wants to hear you talk. You happily oblige.
You liked helping around when you could, so when your genius of a boyfriend asked for your help you were flattered.
âI think thatâs about it?â You ask, starting to get up but his hand on your wrist stops you half way.
âWait.â The tops of his ears were red at this point.
âYes?â
âWhereâs my reward?â He tugs you closer, so youâre standing right in front of him, his arms lazily looping around you.
âOh-â Youâre a little startled, taken by surprise, maybe trying not to smile as you stare down at his earnest expression.
âNo kiss?â He murmurs, frowning up at you, pulling you closer until youâre sitting in his lap, knees on either side of him.
âYes kiss.â And you kiss him, slow and gentle and so sweet. He smiles into it, deeply satisfied, his hands on your lower back. Completely unbothered by his glasses fogging up. Boy did you love him in glasses.
After breaking the kiss, Tim speaks. âThank you, baby. Iâve just been feeling really rusty, you know?â God heâs so nerdy you love him.
âYeah, of course.â You steal one last kiss before grabbing his glasses to wipe them for him. Anything for your dorky boy.
tim drake is pathetic during sex and you absolutely cannot convince me otherwise
 it was almost funny. tim drakeâ a calculated genius, one of the worldâs greatest detectives and son to one of the richest men in americaâ was absolutely whipped for you. and he wasnât ashamed
 especially with the sounds he was letting out, he definitely wasnât ashamed. not when you were on top of him, riding his cock and cooing praises in his ear, your tight pussy being the only thing that was clouding his mind
 âfuck, you feel so goodâ tim whined, his grip on your waist tightened as he panted, dazed blue eyes on yours. your hands that lay flat on his abs slowly trailed up, a whimper leaving his swollen lips as he felt your hands now cup his faceÂ
your warmth touch on his face alone made his cock twitch in you, making a dazed smile form on your lips as you leaned in to make contact with his lips, kissing him slowly yet hungrily
 âdoing so -well- for meâ you moaned on timâs lips when his tip hit your cervix, making you gently bite his bottom lip and hearing a whine of your name leave his tongue while you continued with your muffled whispers, rolling your hips with a pace and depth that was eye-rolling
âthatâs it, my pretty boy doing so goodâ
âstay just likeâ mh!â thatâ
âalways so g-good for meâ
and judging by the way timâs breath got more hitched and how his grip now trailed to cup your ass, you could tell he was close
you broke the kiss with a string of saliva connecting your lips to his for a split second, pushing back his hair to get a good view of his fucked up expression. âcmon babyâ you panted. âtell me h-how bad you wanna cumâ you felt his tip hit your cervix again, making you moan his name and dragging your thumb to his bottom lip. âlet me hear you, pretty boyâ
god, you didnât have to tell tim twice. with the way you looked like a goddess taking him, the mumbling and whimpering started to flow out of his lips
 he nodded frantically, tears now forming in his eyes from the pleasure now building up. âwanna cumâ he whined. âwanna feel you when i cum, pleaââ tim moaned when he felt you purposely squeeze your walls all over his cock
âgod, baby iâll do anything iâ mmmâÂ
âneed to cum, pleeease pleasepleasepleasepleaseâ
and when he does, timâs jaw dropped so low that a silent gasp comes out and blown, widened eyes of pleasure were on yours, the sensation of your walls around him when he cums making him lose it
âoh shiiiiit, oh fuck. thank you baby, oh thank youâfuck, youâre a goddessâ
featuring: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake and Bruce Wayne.
Content: Fluff. Few curse words. Implied relationship.
N/A: These are real convos I've had with my boyfriend and I thought it would be funny to turn into a SMAU, I hope these make sense bc I had to translate from portuguese. đ
NOTES: this pic involves strippers and the sex industry! please read at your own discretion! also apologies for any typos, or issues, I am very sleepy and will fix it later AND AS ALWAYS, REBLOG REBLOG REBLOG PLS PLS xx mwah
---
Anyone who knew you, knew Dick Grayson, and vice versa. But most importantly, they know that heâs your best friend and that youâre his.
Youâd first met him in high school, and what initially started as academic competition, ended in you both graduating side by side with matching smiles.Â
Thereâs truly nothing you didnât know about Dick Grayson â hell, you even knew he was Nightwing.Â
He didnât know everything about you though.
Dick was never one to judge. He always tried to understand that beneath every hard decision, there was a reason â one that some might not be able to talk about. Sure, he mightâve not understood certain things to a personal level, but he always tried and he never judged. Itâs truly an admirable feature, one that you loved too.Â
Despite this, you knew better than to tell him about this. Heâd never look at you the same, and youâre not sure what youâd do without him â I mean, sure, you can get by, youâre independent but Dick isnât someone replaceable.
No. Heâs carved a permanent hole into your heart, and youâre not sure how youâd ever fill it if he found out. Maybe you love him, though you never much let yourself fantasise about anything moreâŠ
I mean, whoâd want to date someone who is part of the sex industry?
Not the Dick Grayson, the Nightwing.Â
Youâre not ashamed of what you do. Youâve come to terms with it, and youâve made quite a big name for yourself in the industry.Â
All those nights dancing and the occasional client who wanted a bit⊠more than just a lap dance, definitely paid well. Well enough for you to put yourself through university, and build enough âfuck youâ money to retire three times over, thatâs for sure.
And yeah, occasionally, to numb down the stress of dealing with inebriated men, you would go out and buy yourself a nice little something â but you were never careless with it.
Youâd only been in the industry for two years, and youâd made more money than you ever had in your entire life â more money than you could make even after youâre a qualified ER doctor. So given that youâve paid off every single debt youâve ever owed, it was hard for you to step out of the door.
But you promised; youâd leave as soon as youâre qualified. By then, your personal investments would be blooming, youâd have to rip out at least a fifth floorboard to hide your money, and youâd be making an honest living as a doctor.Â
Though, sometimes, the universe loves to ruin things for you.Â
You hadnât seen Dick in about a week and a half, and he had invited you over to the manor for dinner with the rest of the family and to catch up on everything.Â
So, yeah, your stomach dropped a bit when you heard the familiar name of your club come so casually out of his mouth. He might as well have slapped you across the face when he said it.Â
Red Siren.
âW-what? Sorry, sorry, uh, repeat what you just said?â
Dick looks at you, sitting beside him on the couch, and repeats himself,
âOkay, so basically, Jonathan Crane is Scarecrowâs real name â spoiler alert â and a few of our contacts have said that he frequents the Red Siren a lot.â
You canât help but stare at him a bit transfixed. Jonathan Crane⊠whoever that is, is Scarecrow⊠and he frequents your club.
â⊠Okay, andâŠ?â
Jason flashes you a wide toothy grin from the chair across the room,
âSo, weâre gonna see if we can put him down.â
Dick flashes Jason a raised eyebrow at the words âput him downâ but doesnât correct him. Tim speaks from behind the couch â behind you â dragging a jolt out of you at his sudden presence.Â
âHeâs been laying low for a while, which is bad news, so essentially, weâre trying to get him before he can release whatever heâs cooked up this time.â
Fuck, youâre realising where this is going.
âSo, Iâm guessing this warrants someone a trip to the Red Siren then?âÂ
Maybe not â I mean, surely theyâre just gonna ambush the guy outside, right? Youâre stuck between trying to keep a poker face and trying to remember if youâve ever had a client named Jonathan before Dick shakes his head beside you.
âSomething like that, weâre mostly trying to contact his favourite dancer there, her name is Vi.â
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.Â
There wasnât much meaning to your codename â it was mostly given to the receptionist on a whim and based entirely on one of the characters in Arcane â but right now, you think youâre going to throw up all over the manor floor.
âAye, you good?â
You look at Jason and suddenly an even worse realisation slaps you across the face; youâre sitting in a room with some of the best detectives â amateur or not â and youâre losing more and more colour in your face.
âYeah! Sorry, Iâve actually been feeling a bit nauseous and itâs hitting me a bit hard right now.â
Damian scoffs at you from the floor where heâs settled up against Titus near Jasonâs chair, mostly absent from the conversation.Â
âYouâre overworking yourself at the hospital, and now look, youâre about to be a patient there.â
You give a sarcastic âha haâ to Damian who smirks at you before petting Titus behind his ears.Â
Glancing at the watch on your wrist, you read a late 11:24 pm. Youâve definitely stayed longer before but itâs also not a suspicious time for you to leave â and that, you need to do immediately.
âActually, speaking of patients, Iâve got an earlier shift tomorrow so Iâm gonna head off early tonight.â
The boys all nod and you make your way to Jason and give him a side hug from his place on the couch, and simultaneously reach down to mess with Damianâs hair, to which the boy scoffs at â you catch his smirk anyway.
Tim gives you a soft smile before hugging you, and before you can turn towards Dick, he gets up from his place on the couch.Â
âIâll walk you to your car.â
You really wish he wasnât being chivalrous right now like he always is, but youâre not going to argue with him. You just need to get out of here quickly and cleanly, and the longer youâre delaying your trip home, the longer you can feel the detectives staring holes into your skin.Â
You nod and the two of you start your walk outside, he opens the door for you and leads you through before you break the silence,
âTell Bruce I said bye, and tell Alfred thank you again for the dinner please?â
He nods, âOf course, youâre gonna be okay on the drive home? If youâre tired, can I drive you?â
You shake your head at the offer â maybe a little too quickly â and follow up with the best excuse you can think of.Â
âNo, thatâs fine⊠might hit the⊠24-hour liquor store on the way home.â
You canât help but want to punch yourself â thatâs your best excuse? Jeez.
âAre⊠are you okay? Or⊠is there something you want to talk about ââ
You shake your head quickly again, a fake laugh slipping through your lips.Â
âNo, no! One of my coworkers is moving hospitals, so Iâm gonna buy her a bottle of overpriced whiskey to celebrate.â
Dick smiles down at you with a soft âahâ at your explanation, and you fumble with your keys before unlocking your car. You reach up and hug dick, whispering a soft goodnight into his ear before sitting in your car.
He stays out the front of the manor until youâre out of his view before heading inside, and you canât help but hold your breath until you no longer see him in your rearview mirror.
Youâre fucked.
>>>Â
Itâs been about a week since that conversation with Dick and the anxiety in your stomach hasnât eased up once. They usually keep âintelâ-based information to a minimum around you â for the sake of your protection â but you canât help but remember his name.Â
Jonathan Crane.
Apparently, youâre the Scarecrowâs favourite dancer, and youâre not sure how to take to that â hopefully, it doesnât go south for you, but⊠surely, if it meant to, then it wouldâve by now.Â
You start to undress in the girlsâ room, slipping on a glittery, black set.Â
âHey baby, I missed you.â
You look back at one of your coworkers â Roxi â whoâs worked alongside you ever since you started. She comes over and wraps her arms around you, before pressing a kiss to your cheek. You giggle, and she sits herself next to your usual vanity before pulling her makeup bag out of her backpack.
âThank god youâre here tonight,â you sigh out, and she giggles while smearing some of her concealer on in a rush. The two of you girls start chattering about mindless things going on in your personal lives while getting ready for your dances.
You loved Roxi, she was the first dancer you met when you first started â although she had experience in the industry unlike you, she was also new to this club so you both bonded together. Though, all of the girls here are sweethearts and if anything, are part of the reason you donât hate it here.Â
The intercom system chimes before the receptionistâs voice fills the girlsâ room, âRoxi babe, your bookings are running late and Vi, Tommy is coming in to see you at 10:30 pm!â
Roxi and you both threw thumbs up into the air for the camera to catch and the intercom chimes again with a gentle, âThank you ladies!âÂ
You glance at the time; itâs 8:55 pm.Â
âTommyâs your big tipper, aye?â Roxiâs voice sounded muffled from beside you and when you glanced over, she was leaning about an inch away from the mirror to do her eyeliner. You giggled at her expression before nodding.Â
âYep⊠I always have mixed feelings about the guy but hey, canât complain when I make my goal for the night.â
Roxi scoffs before mumbling, âAmen to that, Sister.â
>>>
There wasnât all that much time before Tommyâs booking to dance, but you still managed to snag the stage and get yourself some cash â though before youâre able to count it, the intercom sounds.
âVi, Tommyâs here for you.â
You stuff your cash into your locker before locking it up and shoving your shoes back on. You head to reception and Tasha sits there.
She hands you a discreet, black folder, and from the weight of it, you can tell it's a thick stack of cash, and you canât help but smile. Heâs booking you for a lot longer than he normally does, but you canât complain â youâve already hit your goal for the night with this cash, even without doing any extras in the room.Â
âHeâs booked you for a longer dance, heâs waiting in room 7 for you babe.â
After shoving the cash into your locker, you go to the allocated room.
Tommy⊠Well, heâs an odd one. Heâs clearly a man of science, that much you can tell â itâs in the way he looks at your body, not in lust or love but in curiosity; like he wants to see how far he can bend your limbs or how hard he can push your resolve. It never quite feels like itâs just a dance with him, but it was bearable, so youâd never turn him down.Â
Pushing the door open to the room, you find Tommy sitting on the lounge, his eyes already on you â the lightest shade of blue youâd ever seen in a pair. His hair was tussled like heâd been running his hands through it too much, and he was wearing a white button-down with black dress pants.Â
âSame arrangement as last time?â
You smile at him before stripping out of your clothes immediately. You can always appreciate that he doesnât waste your time; you nod and walk over to him. The thing about this arrangement is that heâs very particular with the way he wants things, and youâre not entirely sure why, but itâs an easy job, and you canât complain.
He doesnât like it if you speak without being spoken to, he doesnât grope or touch you too much, and when he does⊠itâs not to enjoy it per se but more to observe the area heâs touching and the reactions his touch has to your skin. He demands that you strip naked before making your way to him, and he prefers you close, on his lap.
The first time you met the guy, you were both confused and thankful for the dance; for one, he had given you thousands of dollars, yet for two, he didnât seem like he enjoyed any bit of it the way most men would â and to your shock, he came back and kept coming back. And to think that the first dance, he was tipping out orders left and right on how he wanted you.Â
Creepy, youâll give him that, but genuinely one of the easiest and best clients youâve had.
You crawl over to him and waste no time in straddling his lap. To your surprise, he runs his hand from the centre of your stomach, up the middle of your sternum, and rests it gently around your neck. His gaze is glued to the goosebumps forming on your skin at the feather-soft sensation, and he focuses on seemingly nothing else.
Just then, he adds more pressure around your neck before locking eyes with you and whispering, âHow about we play a different game?â
â
Tommy was a lot of things, but a hitter hadn't been one of them⊠not until tonight anyway.
Of course, thatâs not how it started. He had asked for his usual arrangement, and that mainly consisted of a nude lap dance and the occasional touch of fingers. Usually, you would charge extra if someone wanted to touch you because you weren't the biggest fan of when people would actually put their sweaty hands on you, but the way Tommy touched you⊠didnât feel perverse. It felt observant â as if he was trying to gauge what type of reactions youâd give him based on the nature of his touch. It was freaky but ultimately harmless, so you stopped charging him extra after the third time heâd done it. There was really no point in charging someone extra for something when he wasn't even putting his hands on any of your intimate areas but rather your sternum and neck â to you anyway.Â
This time, he was clearly more impatient. The first hour and a half of the booking consisted of the normal nude dance, and it was only after youâd sat beside him that he asked if he could do something new to you. Given he was a regular, you agreed if it was something reasonable, and thatâs when he asked if he could slap you.
âI wonât be too harsh, and of course, Iâll pay extra,â just as the words barely left his mouth, he pulled out a stack of cash from his trousers â what looked to be at least five thousand easy. As much as you loved money, you weren't going to charge that much for slapping, but before you could blurt out a reasonable price, he interrupted with a firm, âI insist.â
Needless to say, as the booking went on, the five thousand dollars quickly felt reasonable. You donât know if you had ever been slapped that hard or if you had ever slapped anyone else that hard before. Your face was vibrating with immense pain, and before you could even ask the reception whether youâd be able to take an extended break, she gasped as you approached the desk.
âWhat the fuck happened in there? Are you okay?â
At the concern in her eyes, you canât help but let your eyes well up a bit. A shaky nod and the slight tremble in your bottom lip have her immediately insisting you go home, and that sheâd cancel your bookings for the night.
Youâve honestly never been more grateful for her. Back in the girlâs room, you shove your sweatpants and hoodie back on before grabbing your bag and heading out the back door. Itâs just a shame you couldnât say goodbye to Roxi, but you know she would understand.Â
>>
The next morning had come quicker than expected, and so had the swelling of your face. Youâd called out of the next few night shifts â you werenât too fond of working with a swollen face, or putting makeup on said face â and your boss was more than understanding about the situation, ending the conversation with a simple, âJust let me know when youâre ready to be rostered againâ.
You had also called out of school today too â the plan was to spend the day at home, icing your face and hoping the swelling would go down a reasonable amount â you werenât too fond of the idea of making up an excuse about why you looked the way you did â especially since your classmates were future doctors⊠they would know the difference between the aftermath of a punch and a slap.
A soft hiss left your lips as you pressed the ice pack to your face, scrolling on your phone as you lazed about on the couch. A notification showed up at the top of your phone â a phone call from Dick. You answered the phone and put it on speaker.
âHey Dick, whatâs up?â His response came through smoothly, his brothers could be heard faintly in the background.
âHavenât seen you in a bit, the boys and I are gonna go bowling, you down?â
The truth is that you would love to go with Dick, you really do miss him and his brothers too⊠but given the state of your face, itâs best that you donât. Dick would ask too many questions and you know youâd stumble over your words and then next thing you know, Dick finds out that youâre a stripper and everything hits the fan.
âI would love to but uh, sorry Dick, Iâm just going through it right now. Cool if I cancel?âÂ
It was a lot easier to tell him that you âwerenât feeling itâ because technically it wasn't a lie, and it's a lot easier to give an excuse that's somewhat true than to lie to him â heâd see right through you.
âYeah, of course, are you okay? Do you need anything?â
God, itâs irritating how sweet he is. It really makes dating hard for you when all you can think about is how Dick pulls out chairs for you and opens the doors and is just an annoyingly sweet person and the man youâre on a date with just told you his cock size as if that makes his surface-level personality cuter. Spoiler alert; it does not.
âI should be okay. Thanks for thinking of me, Iâll get in contact and make plans with you guys another time, âk?â
The phone call ended smoothly after a vague promise of laser tag and pizza, and you went back to icing your face. You did really miss Dick, and the boys but unfortunately, your actions (and Tommyâs) have consequences. The show on the TV drones on and you find your eyes getting a little heavyâŠ
âŠ
A series of knocks at your door wakes you up, you groan at the wetness in your hand and a sleepy glance down shows a melted ice pack. Another knock snaps you out of your daze, and you groggily wake up and wander your way to the kitchen. With the makeshift ice pack slapped into the bin, you head to the front door and look through the peephole â a worried Dick is checking his watch before knocking at your door again, the vibration soft against the tip of your nose.Â
Looking back, you unlock the deadbolt and open the door. A sleepy smile graces your face when Dickâs eyes look up from his watch at you.
âHey, I brought you some takeouâ What happened to your face?â
Fuck. You forgot about that.
Your hand instinctively goes up to cup your cheek â almost as if youâre also just realising the state of your face â fuck, quick, think of something. You bite your bottom lip as you stare into his icy gaze. You can tell heâs already analysing every single micromovement on your face. You part your lips to mutter a half-assed excuse before he puts his hand up to interrupt you.
âDonât you dare lie to me.â
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Well, obviously, youâre still going to have to lie to him. Heâs just going to know that youâre lying to him, and then heâs either going to rip it out of you or heâs going to pretend like he believes you until he eventually figures it out himself.
âI-I⊠I canât tell you.â
If his eyebrows could furrow any lower into his eyes, they would. He slightly tilts his head in question before his gaze widens slightly.
âBecause someoneâs told you that you canât or⊠because you donât want to.â
You soften a bit at the suggestion in his statement â heâs just worried about you, and heâs probably assuming the worst â you werenât the biggest talker about your love life with Dick, not because you didnât want to be but because you preferred him over anyone else you had ever dated and you didnât really want him to know that he ruined your dating life.
âIâm not ready to tell you. Iâm sorry, but I am⊠safe, so donât worry about that.â
You knew immediately that a part of him was wondering if it was worth breaking your trust to find out on his own, but you knew that he would never do that to you. The guilt would eat him up before he could get the courage to apologise.Â
You stare at one another for what feels like a lifetime. Not that you mind too much. His eyes remind you of the sea - so beautiful, enigmatic yet dangerous. He breaks the silence with a breath through his nose, before muttering a soft yet defeated, âFine.â
You nod and he holds his arm up, showcasing a plastic bag with Chinese script scattered haphazardly across the front, he flashes his best attempt at a grin - moreso for your sake instead of his before saying, "Now, can you please let me in? I brought your favourite."
You scoot to the side and he squeezes past you, making his way inside and heading straight for your couch where the TV was stuck on the âAre You Still Watching?â phase. He glances at the TV and makes what could only be described as a noise of utter betrayal.
"Are you fucking kidding me? First, you won't tell me why it looks like Killer Croc slapped you with his tail and now you're watching OUR show without me? When you think you know a guy..."
You can't help that he makes you laugh and you sit a bit too close to him but if he notices, he doesn't say anything and wraps an arm around you behind the couch. He leans in and you feel the gentle press of faint lips against the side of your face before he gently whispers, "I'm worried about you... If you need anything at all, don't you dare keep it to yourself."
You nod and don't turn towards him, it is the only thing you can do not to sob every confession out. You know that he's not just going to let this go, but you're thankful he at least pretends like he's not going to bring it up again â realistically, he's going to find out eventually and seeing your wounded face like this does nothing but add more fuel to his already raging bonfire.
You naively hope he forgets. You wouldn't wish harm on Dick, but maybe if he hit his head on his next patrol â maybe â heâll forget about this.
That morning, Dick had left far quicker than you had woken up. The only evidence that he was ever there was an unopened text message on your phone saying he had to leave for patrol. It felt oddly like he was apologising as a one night stand or something but you shook the thought from your head before it could sting.Â
â
It had been a few weeks since Dick caught the state of your face and surprisingly, he hadnât brought it up â aside from the brief check in afterwards on a Facetime call â so you had been thankful for that. You hadnât seen Tommy again at your night job either so thankfully, you didn't have to worry about that happening again â although, given the trouble that he caused slapping you around like a stripperâs ass; youâll be declining his offer next time.
School had been a bit hectic lately with all the noise about Scarecrow coming back around with his newest fear gas but you were able to scrub in on some of the emergency surgeries that popped up throughout the weeks. You feel guilty to admit that the only reason your peers and yourself had been able to scrub in on some pretty gnarly surgeries is because of Gothamâs aggressive nature.
You were popping back into your night job tonight for a couple duo dances with Roxi â you decided that youâd be taking a break from doing personal dances for a whileÂ
â
In the midst of all the chaos, all the girls started running towards the back exit. Roxi was quick to burst into the girlsâ room, and drag you by the hand with a quick, âwe have to goâ, and that was enough to have you quickly abandoning your heels and ripping your robe off the back of the couch.Â
As you ran into the crowd of girls all scattered towards the exit, Roxi lost her grip on your hand. A slight panic rose in you but you knew that she had to be somewhere ahead of you in the crowd of dancers and that youâd find her outside. You turned the corner, and slammed into something â someone â and before you could fall back, gloved hands grabbed you by the biceps and hauled you up and against a solid chest.Â
Your heart hammered in your chest as you shot your hand up so fast to see who was gripping onto you so hard â your breath was ripped out of your lungs when you realized that Jason â no, the Red Hood â was staring down at you from his red helmet. Before you could open your mouth, he had quickly dragged you into the room he had emerged from originally.
âJasâ Red Hood? What are you doing hereââ
He turns around after slamming and locking the door shut, his hands reach up to his helmet and a faint hiss is heard before he pulls it off to reveal Jason, in a domino mask.
âI could ask you the same thing.â
Your mouth gapes at him before stammering out, âI-I just dance here, Iââ
Your words seem to choke somewhere between your oesophagus and rising bile, but heâs heard enough. He huffs a sigh through his nose and his hand comes up to drag down his face.
âFuck me dead⊠he doesnât know, does he?â
At the mention of Dick, sweat starts to manifest itself at the nape of your neck.
âJason, you canât tell him! Heâll neveââ
Jason holds up his hand and that effectively stops you from spewing out anymore nonsense. Itâs done. Dick has to know and youâre fucked. Youâll lose Dick, and probably the whole family â hell, you might even go to jail? Who knows.
âItâs not my place to tell him something like that⊠but, he will find out. Weâre investigating this place, and youâre bound to come up somewhere⊠you know that right?â
You hadnât realised tears were streaming down your cheeks until Jason cupped your face in his hands, his helmet now placed on a table in the room. His gloves didn't really absorb your tears and more so, pushed them around your cheeks but the love was there. You looked at him and his frown was obvious.
âDo you⊠do you think of me⊠differently.â
A soft laugh left his lips as he shook his head down at you. He let go of your face, but gently tucked your hair behind your cheeks, ever so careful of your piercings.
âOf course not. Youâre still my best friend.â
A soft hue of pink makes its way across your cheeks. This is the first time Jasonâs ever outwardly admitted youâre his best friend.
âWow. Am I higher or lower than Roy?â
A soft âughâ comes from him as he drops his hands to his hips and throws his head back towards the ceiling.
âHigher, donât you dare tell him.â
A mini salute makes its way out of you,and Jason grabs his helmet off the table. Youâre suddenly very aware of the fact that your robe is open and quickly cover up â although, to Jasonâs credit, heâd never once looked anywhere he shouldn't have.
âAnd as high as you are on the rank, I canât lie to Dick about this. Of course, Iâd never say anything to him but he will find out.â
You nod, and heâs got his helmet back on. âHead out the back, Nightwing is at the reception.â
Looking down at you again, he nods and silently slips out of the room first. You wait a couple seconds before leaving after him and heading out of the building. The positive is that Jason would never say anything but there's no doubt in your mind that the cameras of this place will be checked as soon as theyâre discovered.Â
You pray theyâre still as grainy as when you first got a peek of them many months ago.
â
Youâre sitting on the floor of your apartment in front of your open floorboard counting all the cash you have to potentially disappear off the face of the planet. Not really, but the option is growing more attractive by the minute.Â
You had found Roxi by the alleyway near the brothel, and she had unceremoniously suggested that you both âgot the fuck out of thereâ to which you had agreed. She was kind enough to let you borrow some spare clothes that she had in her car, and for the first time ever, youâd exchanged numbers with one another.
You couldn't shake the anxiety that was clawing at your back⊠Jason was right. That whole strip club was under investigation for a criminal responsible for thousands of deaths, there was no way they wouldnât check the cameras.
âYou planninâ on running away?â
The modulated voice sends a hot flash of fear that runs down your spine. You spin around to see Jason shutting your window, his red helmet mocking you despite its lack of expression.
âFuck, you scared me. What are you doing here?â
He tugs his helmet on, leaving it on your couch before coming to stand over you, eyes on the cash and the loose floorboard.
âWanted to give you an update, and get some info from yaâ.â
You sigh, and put the floorboard back into place, before pushing your carpet over it. Jason plops down on your couch, patting the spot next to him like youâre a child about to get a scolding. It takes a lot of effort but you sit down beside him, gaze down at your lap.
âYou okay doll?â
You can only manage a nod, and Jason reaches a gloved hand out, gently caressing your right cheek, nudging you to look into his green eyes. His domino mask is gone now, and his expression is filled with worry, and affection.
âTalk to me.â
Your bottom lip whimpers and before a single tear can fall, youâre hugging Jason. He tenses up before wrapping his arms around you, rubbing your back. The gentlest âshhâ and âitâs gonna be okayâ make their way into your ears, past the sounds of your sobs.
Although it was only a few minutes, he held you tightly through it until you leaned back on the couch, eyes red, and sniffling. This time, however, Jason was thigh to thigh with you, his hand on yours on top of your knee.
âDoll, youâre my best friend, please tell me that you know I would never see you differently?â
You nod. Itâs all you can manage, and Jason leans close, before pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your head. You know he means it, as close as you are with Dick, Jasonâs always been the one to know your darkest secrets⊠now including this one.
âWhat questions did you need to ask?â
He hums before gently letting go of your hand, the cold air rushing to your knuckles. He reaches into his leather jack, before pulling out a small photograph.
âDo you recognise his face?â
Youâve barely managed to analyse the photo before youâre bursting into tears again, nodding shakily.Â
Tommy â no â Jonathan Crane, Scarecrow, stares back at you. Jason nods, understanding, before wrapping his arms around you again.
â
It took a while for you to be able to describe what had happened in the private lap dances to Jason but he never rushed you, and eventually, you told him all he needed to know, and after insisting he was okay to stay if you needed company a couple more hundred times, followed by you insisting that youâre fine, he finally left through the window that night.
Itâs only a week later when your phone starts buzzing profusely as you're heating up your kettle for your two minute noodles. One glance at your phone has you grabbing it from the counter before quickly unlocking it and reading Jasonâs texts.
âHeads up, Dick just reviewed the footage and heâs left the manorâ
âNot sure yet but Iâm pretty sure heâs headed to your place dollâ
âTried to stop him and calm him down but heâs pretty heated, Iâm sorry dollâ
âGetting my helmet and heading your wayâ
You stare at the texts for what feels like a minute before responding to Jason.
âThanks Jay, but I think Dick and I need to have this conversation. Donât worry about me, thanks for all your help again xâ
His response is quick.
âI wonât push but if you ever need me there, just call me ok? PleaseâÂ
You respond with a quick âwill doâ before switching to the location app on your phone. A little blue dot is seen going across the highway about 10 over the limit and rising, and a quick glance at surrounding buildings lets you know that heâs about 5 minutes from yours.
A sigh leaves your lips and you throw your phone on the counter, exhausted. A hand reaches out and turns off the kettle mid boil as you stare longingly at your noodle packet.Â
âThis is gonna have to wait.â
â
Your door shakes with the knocks that come from it, and if you didnât know better, youâd think Killer Croc was out to get you. You rip the door open with as much fury, the abrupt knocking having sent you into an adrenaline rush.
âAre you fucking serious?â
Dick stands there; washed out grey shirt with the word âGothamitesâ, plaid pants and black slippers, staring at you with rage and something else you canât quite read in his eyes⊠disappointment? Disgust?Â
âWhat are you talking about?â
You watch the way his jaw tenses into stone, watch the way his tongue prods at his cheek in anger. He starts towards you, and instinctively you move back away from him. His hand reaches out to his side and you flinch just before it reaches out to the door and slams it shut behind him.
âDonât you play fucking dumb with me! Why the fuck would you be a stripper?â
The fear at the sight of him rots into something colder; anger. He wants to judge you, right.Â
What a fucking joke.
âOh, fuck you, Dick! Not all of us have daddyâs money to pay for everything! Donât act like youâre above me, you might not be the dancer but Iâm sure youâve stepped into a club too, asshole!â
He rolls his eyes and runs a hand through his hair, tugging slightly. He scoffs and it turns into a bitter chuckle, none of his actions are helping the genuine rage boiling in your fists.
âWhat the fuck are you talking aboutââ
The next words rip out of you before you can catch the leash.
âFuck you! I did what I could to pay my bills so donâtââ
Your voice rises, matching his tempo, the anger has left your knuckles and it's licking at your palms.Â
Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.
âNo, fuck you, you were targeted by the Scarecrow! Why the fuck wouldnât you say anything?â
You have no idea what itâs been like. What Iâve done⊠How could you? Too busy being the perfect Golden Child.
âHow the fuck was I supposed to know that was Scarecrow? I was just at workââ
How was I supposed to know that freak was a villain? He couldâve killed me. Heâs burned his touch into me.
Thereâs a slight shimmer in Dickâs eyes, youâre not sure if itâs tears or hatred. Youâre going to stick with the latter.
âIf you needed money, you could have come to meââ
You roll your eyes, it always seems to be about money.
âFuck you, Dick, I donât need you to fucking baby meââ
âBaby you? Iâm- Iâm not trying to do that, I just want you safe.â
Laughable. Safe? You mean, âtameableâ?
âNo, you want me modest, so that you can avoid another scandal in your lifeââ
âYou are not a fucking scandal, youâre my girl, I donât care if you want toââ
Your breath hitches just when youâre about to fire another insult, and you lose your thought.Â
His girl?Â
The next sentence that comes out of you, doesn't leave harsh and cold like you mean it to. It leaves bruised and battered, and with a lump in your throat.
âDonât fucking call me that.â
Dickâs eyes soften, and your cheeks sting. He sighs at the sight of your tear-streaked cheeks, and suddenly it sets in for him. He didn't mean to come here and yell. He didn't mean to make you flinch, he never wanted you scaredâŠ
He was just horrified, and you didn't understand that. Didn't understand why. Not because you were foolish â no, far from it â but because, you thought he was judging you. That he actually gave a fuck about your being a dancer.
Well, he did. But not in a weird way, he thought it was cool, and he cared because it stung to know that somewhere along all these years, heâd given you a side of himself, a piece of himself, that made you think he wouldnât love you if you were a dancer.
But that was far from the truth. The Scarecrow was going to kill you that night that he raided the club, he was minutes away from poisoning you in the private room. He didnât know it then, and how could you have known at all?
He canât help it, his face is just as wet as yours, his bottom lip quivering.
Come on Dick, talk dammit.
He gulps down his fear, and rushes to get his next sentence out before it rips its way through him again.
âBaby⊠you donât get it, Iââ
âLeave.â
A soft gasp almost leaves his lips, and he tries to speak again, only for your small hands to push at his chest. Itâs only when heâs pushed back that he realises youâve opened the door behind him, and before he can reach, the door shuts in his face.
You grab Tim by his tie, dragging him behind you as your high heels click against the floor and god help him heâs into it.
âWait-â
âI said follow me. You didnât listen.â
And youâre still dragging him. Donât help that man heâs exactly where he wants to be. You shove him in an empty meeting room.
âYou. You lied.â You back him to the wall.
âYou let me handle them alone, you said youâd show up to the meeting, you did not.â You continue, a finger poking his chest accusingly. The tips of his ears go bright red.
âI wanted you to have your moment- itâs your project.â And he also wanted you at his throat but he wonât really say that.
âSo you play me?â
âThatâs not-â
You shush him with your index on his lips.
âDonât cut me off, Drake.â He flushes further, letting out a little âmmâ.
âIâm sorry.â He murmurs, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. You try not to smile.
âWhat was that? Didnât hear you.â
He drops to his knees, arms wrapped around your body, his chin on your stomach.
âIâm sorry. Wonât do it again. I love you, baby. Iâm sorry.. Forgive me..â He murmurs, half lidded blue eyes staring up at you, so freaking desperate it has you biting your lip.
You grab his face, squishing his cheeks in the process, staring down at him before laughing, leaning down and kissing him despite the awkward angle.
Summary & CW: fluff, slice of life, best friends brother, tim takes a nap, heâs also a recovering touch starved man, conversation about suggestive behavior, second person, no use of y/n
Pairing: Tim Drake x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1.0k
A/N: Another piece out the Kiln! Thank you to @bat2nsignia for requesting (ily dada). This was supposed to be 400 words but here we are LMAO, I hope you all enjoy <3
âAw man câmon,â a voice that is all too familiar whines behind you. âI donât want to see this.â
Tilting your head all the way back on the arm rest, you see Duke Thomas and Stephanie Brown walking into the room. It was shocking, truly, how there seemed to be a thousand rooms in this manor, and you still managed to get found.
Tim had dragged you to the east wing for a nice relaxing afternoon a little over an hour ago.
He compromised by sleeping four hours last night when you woke up for your midnight pee and called him. When he answered the phone, you promptly told him to go to bed or you wouldnât be coming over today.
Safe to say he was under his sheets shortly after you hung up.
This part of the manor tended to be quieter, there were more libraries and offices that werenât inhabited often.
On the second floor study, there was the most comfortable couch youâd ever sat on. One thing led to another and now, Tim was draped across you like a blanket, snoring quietly as he settled into your neck. His arms were locked around your waist with an iron grip, despite being asleep, and he hadnât moved in forty five minutes.
âShhh,â you moved the fingers that were carding through is hair to your mouth. âHeâs sleeping.â
Thankfully, the whisper yell didnât wake him. The absence of your fingers did cause him to bury his face further into your neck, missing your soothing touch even in his dreams.
Stephanieâs signature smirk grew on her lips, which had your stomach sinking. Seeing as you were currently trapped under your boyfriend, you were just going to have to sit and suffer whatever terror she felt like inflicting. When she took her phone out of her back pocket, you only managed to bite back a groan for Timâs sake. You knew where this was going.
She came around the couch and snapped the photo while you frowned, fingers returning to his hair. Duke followed right behind her with his arms crossed and a faux expression of disgust on his face.
âIâm never going to get used to seeing you two together.â He muttered while Stephanie looked way too proud of herself for the blackmail she just acquired.
Rolling your eyes, your head shifts to side landing on the plush arm rest. Raising an eyebrow, you decide to give him a little reminder. âI donât know why youâre whining, you introduced us.â
âYeah because I thought you guys would get along, not because I wanted you to suck face.â
Your jaw drops at the tease. âFor the record,â you raise a hand to point at him. âI wouldnât dare to suck face in a shared space of this house. Thereâs too many cameras in here, and the last thing I need is another uncomfortable conversation with Mr. Wayne.â
Duke bites his lip to hold back a laugh while Stephanieâs hand flies to her mouth, a small action showing that they do genuinely care for Timâs rare rest breaks. The horrific memory that you tried to burn out of your mind was sure at the front of theirs.
Getting caught by Bruce was in the top ten most humiliating moments of your life. You didnât return to the manor for a month, and didnât look Bruce in the eye for three.
Tim and the rest of his family found it funny. You did not.
Then, the air in the room depletes as Tim started shifting around, burying himself deeper into your neck. It was as if someone hit the mute button, even the random noises that occasionally echoed through the manor stopped. The only sound was the small groan Tim let out while moving, probably from shifting the weight onto the shoulder thatâs been bothering him for a few weeks.
When he settled back into place and a solid thirty seconds passed without him moving, you looked back at Stephanie and Duke. They unfreeze at your movement and mouth, âweâre going to goâ while pointing at the door.
Sparing them a small wave and nod, they practically float out the room. The second the door clicks behind them, you move your head back slightly to look at Tim. He looked so peaceful like this, almost like he was taken out of an oil painting.
Dropping a quick kiss to the beauty mark next to his eyebrow, he hums quietly. You shouldâve known that he woke up.
âThatâs why you wonât kiss me in the manor anymore?â His voice is groggy and muffled from being pressed against you, but you couldnât hold back the small laugh you attempted tp mask with a scoff.
âGo back to sleep,â you drop another kiss to his cheek. Hoping to distract him from his initial question, your free hand slips under his shirt and starts scratching his back.
He hums again, his eyes still shut but unrelenting. âI told you, Bruce doesnât care. Heâs caught Dick and Jason doing far worse.â
If it wasnât for this being a topic of conversation you really didnât care for, this wouldâve been the cutest thing ever.
Your favorite version of Tim was always when he woke up. His eyes were half-lidded from sleep and he was still mumbling all his words. It was a little secret you kept for yourself, but he was also more physical when he was freshly conscious. He pulled you closer to him in bed, kissed you slower, whispered praises into your skin while cataloguing every part of you to his brain.
Not wanting to feed the conversation anymore, you merely hummed again.
That didnât seem to satisfy him.
âBaby câmo-â
âIf I kiss you, will you go back to sleep?â
You felt the grin against your neck and sighed.
Propping himself up over you, he has the smile that he wore on the night you met. The smile that made you fall in love with him. And all of the sudden, any reason you had for not wanting to kiss him in shared spaces disappeared.
Includes: Jason Todd, Roy Harper, Wally West, Victor Stone & Garth
Summary: your feet start hurting while you're out, so he comes up with a way to fix that
Content/CW -> gn! reader, slight mentions of blisters/being in pain, mostly cute fluff
froggi yaps -> came up with this after i saw an instagram reel about it :p thought it would be something cute and silly <3 enjoy! also ty to @reallifeveronicasawyerr & @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger for choosing the characters <3 <3
Jason Todd:
âJay,â you whine, tugging on his hand to slow him down.Â
He stops in his tracks, a brick wall of muscle, and turns to face you. âWhatâs going on?â
â...my feet hurt.â
He cocks a brow, glancing down at the shoes heâd definitely warned you about before leaving the house. âUh huh?â
You only nod, hot embarrassment creeping in as you basically admit what he already told you. You shuffle awkwardly in your shoes, hoping to get some relief from the way the edges of your shoes are rubbing against the backs of your ankles.
And despite how badly he wants to say âI told you soâ, he bites his lip. He canât bare to see you in pain like this and that cute, somewhat odd looking shuffling youâre doing only pains him even more.
Jason hums, kneeling down in front of you, âcome on, then.â
Youâre quick to lean against his back, wrapping your arms around the width of his shoulders and letting his arms hoist your legs. Jason rises easily to his feet, hopping slightly to adjust you on his back.
You squeeze his shoulders, planting a kiss to the side of his face. âYouâre the best, you know that?â
âYeah, yeah.â
Roy Harper:
The sweltering heat of the day only makes your feet hurt even worse, each step making you wince. You wipe the sweat off your brow and stop in your tracks, Roy following suit.
âEverything alright?â He cocks his head to the side, red hair stuck to his forehead with sweat.
You frown, âmy feet are starting to hurt.â
He offers you an incredulous grin, giving a half-hearted glance down to your feet. He hadnât said anything when heâd picked you up this morning, but heâd thought it: those are not the shoes to wear when youâre going to be walking as much as you are today.
He laces his fingers through yours, tugging you along to a nearby bench and forcing you to sit. âHere,â he says, slinging his bag over his shoulder and digging through it.
You watch him rummage through the backpack before pulling out a pair of sneakers that are very much not his size. You blink, âare those?â
âFor you,â he holds them out. âFigured you might want them.â
Youâre speechless as you kick off your old shoes, Roy handing you a pair of clean socks. You pull them over, your feet instantly soothed by the absence of your shoes, before gently pulling on your sneakers.
You look at him with teary eyes, âhow could you possibly know Iâd need these?â
He shrugs, grinning cockily. âI just know things, babe.â
Wally West:
âMy feet hurt.â
Wally stops in his tracks, hand tightening around yours. âHm,â he smiles, âI wonder why?â
âMy shoes I thinkâŠâÂ
He glances down, looking at the exact shoes heâd told you would hurt your feet with all the walking youâd be doing today. Still, they were cute and they matched your outfit, and youâve never been one to listen very well to Wally, anyway.
He sighs, dropping to his knees on the pavement in front of you.
âWalls, what are youââ
Youâre silenced when he lifts one of your feet to the top of his thigh, untying the laces of his sneakers. The switch is so fast you hardly notice it, your own feet feeling relieved when theyâre placed in the warm comfort of Wallyâs much too big sneakers.
He doesnât even hesitate before he shoves his feet into your shoes. Itâs awkward and it canât possibly be comfortable with the way his ankles are hanging off the back end of your shoes.
âAre you sure?â
âAs long as youâre not in pain, thatâs all I care about.â He rises to his feet, doing a little twirl for you, âbesides, I feel like a baddie.â
You canât help but laugh a little, rising on your toes to kiss him on the cheek. âYou are a baddie.â
âDamn straight.â
Victor Stone:
The ground outside the bar feels uneven beneath your feet, making you rock on your heels and cause your already painful shoes to rub even harsher on your heels. You wince, stopping in your tracks.
Victor stops the second you do, whirling around on you with concern in his eyes. âWhatâs going on, sweetheart?â
âMy feet hurt,â you mumble out, leaning against him to stand on one foot, rubbing the back of your ankle. âItâs fine.â
His brows knit together, arms crossing over his broad chest. It very much is not fine, not when youâre practically limping.
You recognize that defiant look on his face instantly, opening your mouth to say something when all of a sudden he lifts you into his strong arms.Â
âVic!â
âWhat?â He says, half-hiding his smile, âI just like sweeping you off your feet.â
You let yourself relax against his chest, breathing a sigh of relief at the lack of pain in your feet. âMhm?â
He kisses the side of your head, resuming his walk down the street like nothing happened. âMhm, makes me feel like your knight in shiningâŠchrome.â
You wrap your arms around his neck, enjoying the warmth he brings to the cool summer night. His arms feel safe to you, like the most natural place in the world. You lean in, kissing at his jaw.
âMy hero.â
He flexes a muscle playfully, offering you a wink. âYou know it.â
Garth:
Youâre limping. Itâs the first thing Garth notices when he meets up with you at the boardwalk, the grin on his face fading just a little. Youâre shuffling awkwardly, walking on the balls of your feet like anything else will cause you pain.Â
You smile when you see him, immediately throwing your arms around him. âGarth!â
He wraps his own arms around you, hugging you tightly. âHi, baby.â
You pull away, forcing your face to remain neutral despite the way your heels rub against the backs of your shoes. It burns, and itâs definitely going to give you some nasty blisters later.
His brows furrow together. âYouâre in pain.â
You shrug, âitâs just my shoes.â
Just your shoes? Garth shudders, heâs in pain just looking at you.Â
He laces his fingers through yours, shaking his head. âCome on.â
You let him drag you down the boardwalk strip, past all the souvenir and food shops and into the air conditioned hut of a store that mainly sells bathing suits, towels and flipflops.
âGo, pick out a pair.â
âGarth, itâs fine.â
He levels you with a serious look, âIâm not gonna be able to rest until I know youâre not in pain so please, just pick some out.â
And you give in like you always do, examining the shop wall and settling on a pair of comfortable looking sandals. Before you go up to the counter to pay, Garth snatches them from your hand, paying for them before you even have the chance to say no.
Outside, he kneels down in front of you, replacing your uncomfortable shoes for the nice, cozy flip flops heâd just bought for you.
He pats your foot gently when he puts it down. âThere, all better.â
You smile, running your fingers through his hair. âThank you, baby.â
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thanks for reading & have a wonderful weekend /á > Ë <ă âËâčâĄ
froggi yaps -> trying to give our underappreciated men a little more love so here is some guy and johnstantine <3 i know this one is a little silly but i hope you guys still enjoy :p
Wally:
âHoney, Iâm home!â Wally calls, rounding the corner of his apartment with a bag of pastries in one hand and a tray of coffee in the other.
He freezes in his tracks when he sees you, mouth going slack and coffee teetering in his hands. When heâd left you this morning, sound asleep in his bed, looking like you belong there, you certainly hadnât been dressed like that.
âW-what are you wearing?â He swallows, looking you up and down.
Heat rushes to your face, embarrassment fluttering in your chest. Wally sets down his bounties before he accidentally drops them and goes back to staring, looking at the pair of Flash boxers that are definitely his.
âSorry! Um, you kinda wrecked my underwear last night and I didnât want to just be around the house naked so I borrowed something but I can take them off if youââ
âNo!â He says it a little too quickly, grinning ear to ear. âKeep em on, you look hot.â
You raise an eyebrow. âI-I do?â
You certainly hadn't considered the plain baggy tee and menâs boxers you swiped from him would make you look hot of all things, especially not with sleep still in your eyes.
Wallyâs in front of you in an instant, hands roaming your hips. âMhm.â He presses a kiss to your cheek, lips ghosting over your ear, âgonna have to rip your underwear off more often.â
Dick:
Dickâs home early from patrol, the moon still out. You should be asleep and yet, here you are: puttering the house for chores, a load of laundry in the wash and a rack of dishes in the dishwasher.
âSweetheart?â He calls, kicking his shoes off at the door. âYouâre still awake?â
You round the corner with a sleepy smile, happy to see him, only for his mouth to fall open when he sees you. Youâre completely shirtless, dressed only in a pair of Superman boxers that look all too familiar to him.
âHi, baby,â you smile. âHow was patrol?â
He swallows, throat bobbing, before grinning like an idiot. âGood, whatâs with all this?â
You look down at your figure, specifically the red coloured waistband of the boxers youâd swiped from Dick. âOh, I just threw something on while I do laundry.â
He reaches for you, beckoning you into his arms so his hands can roam the expanse of your sides. He breathes you in, enjoying the feeling of your bare skin beneath the callouses of his hands.
âYou look so sexy in my underwear,â he murmurs in your ear, lips teasing the side of your neck. âNeed to give me a warning next time.â
âMhm, or what?â
He smirks against your skin, whispering something so diabolical into your ear that it sends heat between your legs.Â
You blink. âYes, sir.â
Hal:
âIs this okay?â
Hal leans back against the couch, still half-asleep. âIs what okay?â
You gesture to your outfit, or more accurate, lack thereof. Dressed in his boxers and a wifebeater you stole from his closet, your own clothes in the wash, you canât help but feel a little shy in front of him.
âIâm confused.â
You blink. âThe clothes. I borrowed your clothes.â
If Hal wasnât awake before, he certainly is now. He blinks, brown eyes suddenly wide and taking in the sight of you. His underwear. Youâre wearing his underwear, and fuck, they look like they were made for you.
You tilt your head slightly, pursing your lips to fight your smile. âHal? Earth to Hal?â
âFuck, sweetheart, donât look at me like that.â
You prop a hand on your hip. âOr what?â
You have no time to react before heâs engulfing you in his arms and pulling you into his lap, snaring you against his chest. He kisses the side of your neck, early morning stubble rubbing against your skin.
âOr Iâm gonna have to take those off of you.â
Barry:
Barryâs not sure what heâs expecting when he wakes up, hair a mess and sleep still in his eyes, but itâs certainly not you, standing at his bedside with a coffee in your hands, dressed in his underwear.
âGood morning,â you say sweetly.
He swallows, pushing himself up in bed and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. âGâmorning.â
âHow did you sleep?â
âGood, good.â He looks you up and down before locking his vision on the sun streaming through his window, doing his best to ignore the way his plane-printed boxers sit on your figure. âI donât mind butâŠare you wearing my underwear?â
Your mouth falls open, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. âOh my god, Iâm so sorry.â
âItâs fine, really.â
âI went to make you coffee and IâI accidentally spilled a bunch on myself and I didnât want to just be nakedâŠIâm sorry, this must be so weird for you.â
âSeriously, donât be.â He reaches a hand for you, waiting for you to take it before tugging you into the bed and wrapping you up in your arms. âYou look hot,â he mumbles into your ear.
âMhm?â
He nods into you, pressing himself closer until you can feel his morning wood. âMhm.â
Roy:
Youâre gone when Roy wakes up, the warmth of your figure nestled into his side long gone. He frowns, sitting up and tossing the sheets to the side. Itâs a small apartmentâtwo bedrooms, comfortable enough for him and Lian when he has her. You canât have gone far.
He finds you in the small closet that houses his laundry machine, curled up on the floor with a deep frown on your face. Youâre so twisted up that you donât even notice him come in, or notice the way heâs staring at your choice of attire.
Boxers, his boxers, under the baggy t-shirt heâs gone to bed in.Â
Roy squats to the floor in front of you, reaching a gentle hand to rest on your shoulder. âYou okay, sweetheart?â
You blink, looking up at him with tired eyes. âMy cramps are so bad right now.â
The gears turn in the backs of his mind. Something clicks. âIs that why youâre in my underwear?â
âI bled through mine,â you nod solemnly. âBut I found a tampon andâand mine should be clean any minute now.â
Roy leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead. âKeep em as long as you need, baby, but letâs get you off the floor, hm?â
You hum in agreement, letting Royâs arms fall around your body and lift you off of the floor. âI love you,â you murmur.
He kisses the side of your head. âI love you too.â
Kyle:
Kyleâs beat when he walks through the door, ready to collapse in his bed and sleep for the rest of his life if he can. The mission heâd just returned from was gruelling, his entire body aching and stiff.
He stops in his tracks when he opens the door and finds you asleep in his bed, wearing his boxers and hugging his pillow like itâs a person. A smile comes to his face. Oh, this is too cute.
Kyle pulls out his phone and snaps a few pictures before flopping into the bed next to you and tugging your back into his chest. You blink awake slowly, unfurling your limbs like a cat stretching out in the sun.
âBabe?â You ask, voice still heavy with sleep.
He kisses your shoulder, âhi, baby.â
You smile sleepily, resting a hand over his. âI missed you so much.â
âMhm, is that why youâre wearing my underwear?â
You nod. âWearing your shirt, too. Wanted to smell like you.â
Kyle flushes at that. Wanted to smell like you. Like his smell is comforting to you or something.
He presses another kiss to your shoulder. âYouâre real cute, you know that?â
âDork.â
John:
Youâre awake. Thatâs the first thing John notices when he reenters his apartment, fresh off his cigarette break, and finds you leaned against the counter in front of his french press. The second thing he notices is the grey fabric clinging low on your hips, the Calvin Klein waistband sticking out like a sore thumb.
He pauses, admiring the way the sunlight pours through the window and makes you glow. âGâmorning, love.â
Your head perks up, a smile on your face. âHey, youâre back.â
He closes the distance between the two of you, spinning you around so that your back is leaning against the counter and your chest is facing him. He slides his hands down your sides, thumbs tracing your hips.
âDonât think these are quite your size, love.â
You roll your eyes at his teasing. âWell, my underwear have mysteriously disappeared., and I donât think you mind the view.â
âItâs a lovely view,â he smirks, tugging you closer. âShame about your underwear, though. Iâm sure they'll turn up.â
You shake your head, laughing at his antics. âYou think so?â
âMaybe, maybe not.â
You tilt your head up, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. âI guess Iâll just have to keep wearing yours, then.â
Guy:
âItâs not that bad.â
âYouâre bleeding like a stuck pig,â Guy sighs, tugging your shirt over your head.
You freeze. âDid you just call me a pig?â
âItâs a metaphor or whatever.â
Your eyes roll at your boyfriend, currently fretting over the injuries you sustained on a mission together. Nothing but some cuts and bruises thankfully, but a lot of blood to go with it.
âHere,â he says, turning on the shower. âGet in.â
You hesitate for a minute, shimmying out of the rest of your dirt clothes.
âWhat? Do you need me in there with you or something?â
âYou wish.â
Guy retreats out of the bathroom, not wanting to push you when you already seem to be in a mood, and you climb into the warm water of the shower. You take your sweet time getting clean, frowning at the sight of Guyâs 3-in-1 body wash, shampoo and conditioner.
Itâs when you climb out of the shower that you realize your mistake: your clothes are tattered and bloody, and you donât have any spares.
Guyâs sitting on the couch, flipping through the tv and eating cold strips of steak with his hands when you emerge from his bedroom. He narrows his eyes, examining the outfit youâre wearing.
âArenât you a sight for sore eyes?â He flashes you a toothy grin, looking like heâs going to eat you. âThose are my underwear, yeah?â
You nod, somewhat embarrassed. âMy clothes are dirty, soâŠâ
Guy pats his lap, beckoning you to come sit with him. He traces a hand up your thigh, rubbing at the spot where the fabric of his boxers meets the skin of your leg.
âCan wear em as long as you want, doll, so long as you look so damn good in them.â
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thanks for reading & have a wonderful week /á > Ë <ă âËâčâĄ
Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne giving their girl the princess treatmentâŠ
warnings : only slightly suggestive in these? tooth rotting fluff, the boys are whipped for their girl, female reader, mentions of feet, golden retriever type boyfriends fr
Taglist : @i-dearbambi-dxx | please let me know if you want to be tagged in any of my ongoing works!
note : my first time ever writing a request >.< actually had a lot of fun writing this and will defo do more in the future :)
Based on this request
Bruce Wayne has zero ability in restraint when it comes to spoiling his girlfriendâyou. If thereâs anything he sees you looking at, humming in consideration of buying at all, heâs whipping out his card and heâs buying it without hesitation.
âWhatâs this?â You ask, shrugging off your outdoor coat and handing it to a patiently waiting Alfred in the foyer. The butler takes your coat and folds it in his arms, his greying brows raising with intrigue at the expensive designer box in Bruceâs hands.
Bruce holds the box out for you to take, and you do so without hesitation. Though, you give a suspicious look to him before delicately removing the lid and pushing aside the crinkling tissue paper inside.
You gasp as you reach in and reveal the backless designer dress you had stared at for a millisecond yesterday at the store.
âBruce!â You squeal, eyes sparkling in adoration for the gift. Alfred wordlessly takes the box from your hands as you fly forwards to wrap your arms around Bruceâs midriff. Bruce only chuckles, fondness in his expression, pure adoration for your reaction and you in general.
âDo you like it?â Bruce leans down and presses a lingering kiss to your temple. His fingers, calloused and blemished from the years of his work as Batman, trace patterns into the skin under your shirt. You do your best to conceal a shiver at the touch, but nothing can slip past the detectives trained eye.
You hum. âI love it. You didnât have to buy that for meâit must have cost a fortune.â
An ironic statement considering Bruce Wayne is the richest man in Gotham. A billionaire philanthropist sitting pretty on a wealth dating back several generations.
Bruce shakes his head and presses his lips again to your skin, this time lower and nearing your mouth. âMoney doesnât matter,â he assures, his voice lowering to a husk. âYouâre worth every penny Iâll ever spend.â
You tilt your head back and lift yourself onto your toes, lips gently colliding with his. He reciprocates immediately, his fingers digging into your waist while he holds you steady. Then, he breaks the kiss and glances over at the box that Alfred is still holdingâwhere heâs still standing nearby and not at all looking embarrassed by the affection.
You follow his gaze and rest your head to his chest. âI should try it onâmake sure it fits.â
Bruce reaches over and takes the box from Alfred with a small âthank youâ.
He turns his steely blue eyes down to meet yours, and you try not to shudder under the intensity of his gaze, the way his eyes sharpen in that way heâs plotting something.
âYou absolutely should try it on,â he encourages after a beat, his smile turning deliciously wicked before he adds: âthen we can see how it looks on my bedroom floor.â
~*~*~
Dick Grayson is constantly on the move. Heâs never known the ability to stay in one place; his thoughts are constantly running in overdrive with plans for the future. And thatâs not limited to his role as a leader or vigilante, it also shows in his relationship.
âThis was wonderful,â you say with a breathy sigh, closing your eyes as the golden sun sets over the horizon. The final rays of light glow upon your face, a warmth that feels like the sky itself is placing kisses across your skin. âThank you for planning this, Iâve had an amazing time.â
Dick bumps his shoulder into yours, his hand moving from behind him to rest on your thigh. His thumb moves in small circles, a soothing motion that simply makes you melt at the touch.
âIâm glad youâve enjoyed yourself,â he admits, his smile as beautiful as the sunset itself. âI was thinking of a shopping date tomorrowâand then we can watch that new movie you were talking about last week. I was also thinking dinner at that new Italian place that opened up last month.â
You turn to look at him, amusement barely concealed in your fond smile. âAnother date? Dick, youâre going to go bankrupt if you keep spending your money on me like this. You know Iâm perfectly happy with lazy days with you.â
Dick leans his head down and nuzzles his nose against yours, his lips brushing your own. You lean into him and chase the kiss, but his hand reaches up and holds you in place. He knows if he kisses you now he wonât be able to stop, and thereâs still more to this night that he planned. Instead, he rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes.
âI know, but youâre my girl and I want to spoil you,â he admits. He doesnât sound ashamed by that at all, and the genuineness in his voice melts your entire body into a puddle. âLet me enjoy spoiling you. Please.â
You pretend to hum in thought. âAlright. But youâll have to let me spoil you at some point, okay?â
Thereâs a woosh of air and suddenly youâre on your back on the picnic blanket, one hand braced next to your head while the other settles onto your hip. His legs cage you in, and he swoops his head down to press a deep, loving kiss to your lips. You reciprocate without hesitation, a hum vibrating your throat at the unfiltered taste of him. And just as youâre turning to goo underneath him, just when that familiar fire is sparking low in your stomach, he pulls away and steals all the warmth with him.
âYou existing is enough for me,â Dick says, his voice low and husky and absolutely addicting.
You reach your hands up and thread your fingers through his thick, dark locks. If he were a cat, youâre sure he would have started purring, just from the way his eyelids droop at the pleasant sensation.
And then Dick is no longer above you. He tucks himself at your side and pulls you into a hug, ensuring the both of you are angled in a way to see the sky perfectly. âAre you ready for the show?â He asks.
You try to look at his face for clues, but find nothing. So you look back to the sky curiously, just as the first star shoots across the darkening background. You gasp in delight at the sight, awed by the series of stars that follow.
âShooting stars,â you whisper, your hand reaching to rest on Dicks chest. He encases your hand with his own, his thumb rubbing gentle circles across the your fingers.
âMake a wish, baby,â Dick tells you, his head tilting to the side to gauge your reaction.
âI donât need to wish for anything.â
Dick hums, a little confused. âYou donât?â
You roll to the side and lift yourself so youâre sitting on his lap, legs straddling him and pinning him to the floorânot that heâd fight to be above you, he loves every angle of yourself that you give. You lean down and press your lips to his, devouring him before trailing kisses down his jawline. He groans at the tingling feeling each kiss leaves behind on his skin, craving more.
You stop and lean back, your hand coming up to cup his cheek. âEverything Iâve ever wished for in the pastâthose wishes were all granted the moment you came into my life, Dick Grayson.â
A shooting star flies across the skyline behind you, and in that very same moment Dick makes the wish that this moment will last forever.
~*~*~
Jason Todd is quiet with his displays of devotion. Heâs always felt things more strongly than others, and maybe itâs because he missed some vital development points during his teen yearsâbut his devotion to Gotham, his home city, his love for the people seeps into his love for you.
Itâs early evening when you arrive home from work. Sweaty, exhausted, rosy cheeked and desperate for a shower; you lock the door behind you and kick your shoes off into a messy heap. You donât even bother heading to the lounge room at the end of the hall, because youâre so tired and desperate to just collapse in bed and sleep for the next twelve hours.
But as you enter your bedroom, fingers fumbling with the button on your jeans, you pause in the threshold and blink slowly at the bouquet of flowers placed neatly on your side of the bed. A beautiful arrangement of red and pink roses, tied at the stems with a red ribbon that looks utterly perfect. You shuffle further into the room and scoop the bouquet from the bed, a knowing smile on your lips.
Then, footsteps approach from behind, and two buff arms encase you from behind. Your back presses into a solid chest, and you tilt your head until youâre staring up into the adoring, beautiful eyes of your boyfriend, Jason.
âWas work okay?â Jason asks, his lips brushing against the crown of your head.
You hum and close your eyes, basking in the warmth of his love. âIt went,â you answer shortly, not wanting to discuss your gruelling day as a waitress. Instead, you lift the bouquet higher to draw Jasonâs eyes to it, and you watch in delight as he briefly looks away from your face and to the flowers.
âDo you like them?â He whispers, leaning down again and kissing your forehead once more. Needy and uncertainty disguised as lazy confidenceâyouâve been with Jason long enough to know his tells; the way his eyes crinkle at the corners with worry, the way his lips twitch downwards in an effort to not frown.
âI love them,â you tell him honestly. Without fully breaking free from his hold, you manage to swivel in his arms so youâre standing chest-to-chest. Heâs looking down at you still, and you take advantage of the position and brush your nose against his. âIâm going to need more vases, though.â
Jason raises a brow. âMore vases? You already have an entire cupboard dedicated to them,â he points out, confused.
You stifle a laugh and pull from the embrace, slipping your hand into his and tugging him out of the bedroom. He follows without question, eyes wide with curiosity as you lead him into the kitchen.
You pull open the cupboard under the sink to reveal very empty shelves, where you like to store the glass and ceramic vases. At the back corner is a cobweb and a tiny spider weaving in the middle, making the most of the vast empty space. You gesture to the shelves with an amused smile, watching as Jasonâs face drops in realisation.
âOh. Where did they all go?â
You resort to staying quiet as you squeeze his hand and take him on a tour around the apartment. There you point out the ceramic vase and flowers on the centre of the coffee table, and then to the glass vase with flowers on the decorative table underneath the window. The bookshelf next to the hallway has two more vases filled with flowers, looking just as fresh as when Jason had presented them to you two days ago.
But youâre not done, even as realisation starts to dawn on Jasonâs face. You lead him to the bathroom, where another vase is perched next to the sink, where lilies spill out over the top. Next, you show him to the bedroom, where a vase and flowers are sitting pretty on your dresser, by your vanity table next to the mirror, and one sitting on the window.
You slowly turn to look at Jason, your smile teasing and easy. âHmâI wonder where my vases have all gone?â You ask with a teasing lilt.
Jason huffs a laugh and pulls you back to his chest. âOkay, I get it. I buy you too many flowers. If youâre expecting me to apologise then youâre out of luck.â
You conceal a snort of laughter and shake your head. âApologise? Jason, this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. I canât imagine ever being upset at the fact that Iâve run out of vases.â
You lean up to press a gentle kiss to his lips. He presses back into you, his eyes sliding shut at the warmth of your mouth against his. He pulls away briefly to gaze down at the roses in your hand.
âTheyâll die if we donât put them in some water,â he mutters, sounding sadder than youâd ever expect a large man such as himself to be at flowers. âMaybe we can put them in a jug for now and I can get some new vases tomorrow?â
You hum in thought. Then, you turn your gaze to your bed and a bright idea sparks behind your eyes.
âI need to take a shower,â you tell him, lifting the bouquet up for Jason to take. He does without hesitation, but he doesnât look any less confused about it. You continue, âwhy donât you decorate the bed for when I finish up? I hear roses always look pretty as petals scattered on sheets.â
Jason opens his mouth to say something, then he immediately shuts his mouth again. The apples of his cheeks morph into a shade of red, and the corners of his mouth twitch upwards into a boyish smile. He gives a firm nod and presses a kiss to your mouth once again, then gently pushes you away so you can go and shower.
âGo shower, baby. I can handle a little bit of decoration. But donât take too long, yeah?â
~*~*~
Tim Drake canât exist longer than a few minutes without needing to be in some form of contact with you. Whether itâs through texting updates about his dayâincluding asking about yours, even if youâre doing the most basic, mundane of tasksâor draping his body over yours. There is no scale, because heâs simply content to be with you regardless.
âYour muscles are so tightâŠâ
You strain through a hum of agreement as Tim works his long fingers into the arch of your foot, his thumbs pressing hard and tender to roughly soothe out the tension thatâs been bothering you for the better part of your day. You fight a groan at a particularly sensitive spot, one that feels both painful and like instant reliefâlike pressing on a bruise repeatedly and not learning your lesson that itâs sore.
Even though it was Tim who insisted you sit down and let him ease the stress from your muscles, you still feel riddled with guilt at the fact that youâve indirectly pulled him away from one of his many detective cases.
âYou donât have to do this,â you remind him softly, brows scrunching together as he starts a circular motion beneath your toes. It takes every ounce of your strength to not openly whine at the sensation. âI can just go and soak in the bath like I usually do.â
Tim shoots you an accusing stare, like heâs offended at the very suggestion. âLike you usually do?â He echoes back, scandalised by the mere thought. He doesnât ease up with his ministrations, but instead presses firmer into your foot. âYouâre telling me you deal with this a lot?â
You watch as he lowers your left foot and begins showing the same amount of attention and care to the right. He dollops a generous amount of lotion onto his pale hands, rubs the cream to spread it evenly, then begins the circular motions to your other foot. The entire process is Heavenly and unmatched, and you question why youâd never recruited him for foot massages before now in the first place.
âSometimes,â you answer softly, a soft sigh leaving your lips as he digs the pads of his thumbs into another tense spot. With every motion you can feel the discomfort roll its way out your foot. âI donât want to pester you with how busy your job is.â
Tim tuts and shakes his head, his black hair brushing his pale forehead. âUnbelievable,â he grumbles, like your selflessness is an inconvenience to him, âI canât believe this whole time youâve let yourself be uncomfortable when Iâm literally right here and capable of helping you.â
You slyly lift your left foot and poke his cheek with your toe, hoping for him to grumble some more. Instead, Tim catches you by the ankle and begins pressing gentle, tender kisses up to the middle of your shin.
âTimââ you whine, attempting to tug your foot back so make him stop.
But Tim doesnât let go, and instead he starts pressing kisses to your right leg for good measure. An even distribution of love and attention for every inch of your bodyâthe very body he worships and would be damned if he had to live a day without.
âLet me take care of you,â Tim mutters, his nose nuzzling into your skin.
~*~*~
Damian Wayne shows his love in the most oddest of ways. Through his childhood of being raised in the League, he had to learn that attachment to others could be exploited and used against him. But after meeting his girlfriendâyouâseveral years after moving to Gotham City to live with his father, he threw himself in the deep end in exploring how to show affection and unlearning the negative repercussions of forming attachments.
âBeloved,â Damian calls out, his voice as sharp as the blade he has hidden at his side, âwhere are you going?â
He stands in the threshold from the corridor to the lavish foyer, his dark brows furrowed against tanned skin. He watches as you finish buttoning up your autumnal jacket, mind running with replays of the conversations he has held with you over the past few days in search of an explanation for why youâre leaving. But when he finds no such recollection, his heart skips a beat.
You peer up at him through long lashes, your lips tugging into a gentle smile at the sight of his tight expression. âMy friends planned a last-minute shopping trip,â you explain softly, offering the reassurance he refuses to admit he needs. âIâm about to head out to meet with them. I think weâre getting lunch, too.â
Damianâs shoulders drop a fraction with relief, but his posture remains steadfast in the way it was vigorously trained to be as a child. âI see,â he mutters, his hand already reaching to his pocket to retrieve the black leathered wallet. The motions are familiar as he flips it open and slips out the credit card with ease, his eyes waiting and expectant of you.
You blink at the offer and sigh. âDamiâyou donât have to give me your card,â you remind him, your gentle hand reaching up to touch his wrist and direct it away. âYou spoil me so much already.â
Damian frowns. âI fail to see the issue with that,â he counters, clicking his tongue at your refusal. âIs it wrong for me to provide for you?â
âNo, no itâs not. Itâs cute. But I donât want you thinking you have to give me your card every time I go out with my friends,â you say, closing the gap and standing almost chest-to-chest with him. You guide your hands up his arms until they loop around his neck, silently prodding him to lean down until your lips brush close to his. âYou already pay for everything when itâs just us. I can fund my own spending habits when Iâm with my friends.â
Damian shakes his head and then brushes his nose against yours. You inhale his scent, heart fluttering at the scent of his cologne. âI donât think I have to,â he corrects without missing a beat, his green eyes boring into your own. Itâs then that you feel his fingers brushing the skin of your cheek, a motion thatâs loving and adoring. âI want to, my love. Let me spoil you.â
Arguing with Damian has always been futile, so you relent without putting up a fight or attempting a logical argument.
Instead, you suggest the next best thing that you can possibly think of as repayment for his generosity:
âThen perhaps Iâll visit that one store you like so much?â
Thereâs an obvious pause on his behalf, an extra second taken as he visibly composes himself. His lips curl up at the corners, his eyes creasing. âWhat time can I expect you home?â He asks, the question feigning pure innocence.
Your eyes sparkle. âEarly evening,â you murmur in promise, now standing on your toes to reach up and fully press a kiss to his lips. âDo you want your gift before dinner or after?â
Damianâs forehead presses to yours, and you feel his shuddering breath across your face as he visibly restrains himself. His fingers flex into your hips, a sign that heâs fighting himself to not force you to stay with him.
Instead, he pulls back and firmly places his credit card into your hand, his long fingers closing yours around the plastic. Then he guides your hand to his mouth and kisses each finger, like heâs willing his love into your digits.
âThere is no limit,â Damian reminds you, his voice uncharacteristically soft. âIâd like a full show of everything when you come home.â
âEven the boring parts?â You tease.
âMy love, there are no such thing as boring parts where you are concerned.â
