watermelon

lou - 20

[kumasakka]

𝓜𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒

─── ❨ 𝐧. ❩ the stupidest of stupidities :: you feel like an idiot for asking after his help and he feels like an idiot for accepting even though you two are supposed to be over !

content ⸝⸝ jason todd x gn . reader , oneshot , fluff (?) , exes trope , 1.63wc 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒

　　You feel like crying. Your shoulder slump down, teeth grazing your inner cheek, eyes set on the numerous papers on your desk — your lips form a thin line as you lean into your chair and throw your head back, softly hitting the rest.

Breathe. Right.

"I don't think I can score a good grade." you murmur and stare at the ceiling.

Not when you barely are able to comprehend the subject. You should've asked when you still had the chance. You should've taken more notes of the professor's rants. You should've done so much more.

A groan leaves your lips before you collect all papers so you can move to bed. "You can study better where you're most comfortable." you whisper to yourself. And then, you trip — the papers now scattered across the floor.

"Fuck."

You are so done with it right now. You don't understand a word. It's late. Your brain is buzzing, filled with too much information that didn't belong. You feel like this is one of your lowest moments.

Shit. You want to bury yourself. You want to sleep and never wake up.

It doesn't take long until your sight grows blurry, overtaken by a burning sensation that prickled in your eyes.

"Get yourself together." you crouch down to gather your papers.

Then you notice how your fingers are trembling ever so slightly, how you fall back to sit instead of crouch. You need help.

Friends? — never mind, they are too busy with their own stuff. It's late, they are probably asleep.

No one can help you. You have to help yourself. Stop relying on others.

"Right."

You still grab your phone. Still scroll through the list. Still searching for someone who can help.

And suddenly, you land back on his name.

His name seems like a curse in your eyes, it's bittersweet on your tongue, it's a headache.

You click on the call button.

Jason is awake. He must be. He should be finished with patrol by now.

Your eyes drift to the time.

It's about to hit 4am.

He can help you.

Why are you so desperate? Is this an excuse to see him? Why can't you let go? Why can't you do this on your own?

You two are done. He made it clear and you accepted it. There is no reason for you to have him in your contact list at all, no reason to call him.

But he doesn't let you wait long — picking up the phone after a few rings like always. You already feel a sense of relief washing over you before it converts into uncertainty and hesitation.

Uncertain if he would agree.

Hesitant if he would even listen you out.

Your lips part, your mouth is dry, your throat closes.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—get your shit together.

Silence takes over and roots deeply into your soul, eyes nervously darting from the phone back to the papers on the floor as if he could see you. You try to form a coherent sentence in your mind, try to find an excuse why you called.

Should you even tell him that you need help? You're so dependent on others, you always need help.

The first few minutes pass as the silence stretches longer.

A tinge of genuine embarrassment fills you, then it turns into guilt.

Get to the point, ask for help, stop keeping him waiting so pointlessly — you scold yourself.

On the other side of the phone is Jason. He listens attentively, eyes fixates itself on the paved ground, weight relaxed and leaned against his bike — he is waiting patiently for you to speak up.

Truth to be told, he doesn't know why his heart thudded so comfortably when he saw your name on the caller ID. He doesn't know why he is waiting. He doesn't know why he picked up in first place.

He was about to finish up patrol, to wrap up the things before he received a call. He usually doesn't accept calls during the most important hours. He still takes a look to see who is calling because he is nosy.

And then he sees your name plastered on the screen.

Suddenly — the light was too bright, the scenery too juvenile.

He even set aside everything to lean against his bike and to accept your call. He should have finished patrol up properly and then call you back.

But he is an idiot and accepted the call without hesitating for too long, setting aside the world for the person on the other side of the device.

Now he is waiting like a fool.

A patient fool.

Patience. Something that feels incredibly foreign on his tongue yet it dwells in his mind like a familiar thing.

Right. Because he learnt that from you.

To be patient with the things or people he loves.

Love. He doesn't love you anymore. He broke up. He doesn't regret it.

Never. He already regrets too many things.

"Hi." it's meek and quiet, almost sweet in his ears. Super awkward.

Jason forces himself to hold back his chuckle, bites his lower lip to prevent any noise from leaving his throat. He even hears the shaky exhale you let out, which is almost transparent over the phone.

"Hey." he replies, voice too soft for someone who only has sharp and rough edges like him.

"Can you... Can you please—" your voice cracks.

"Pfft—"

Fuck. He laughed.

You are probably covering yourself in embarrassment even though he doesn't even see you. Yet he imagines it since he knows you.

"Fah..." he listens how you clear your throat and start again, "can you err—can you help me..?"

Now he is surprised, blinking several times at your request and his laughter seemingly forgotten.

Are you seriously asking him for help?

"With stuff... college..."

For help in academics?

"Please."

He takes off his phone from his ear and stares the time, seeing how long you two have been calling already — anything to distract his drifting mind. And heart.

Silence settles again, not as awkward before because this time it was probably ten times worse.

"Wait—you know what?" you laugh awkwardly, "never mind. Actually, don't mind me. My friend is coming—"

"Ditch them." he interrupts you.

A surge of panic seeping under his skin as soon as you mention the word friend despite knowing how bad of a liar you are.

"I'm coming."

With that, he hangs up.

Fuck — why did he agree?

He groans in slight regret and is about to tear off the mask that seemed too heavy for his mind to hold.

Fuck — he is such an idiot.

Anyways, he should wrap it up quickly and make his way to you.

You. You who is groaning as well.

The heat crawls up to your neck as you plant your forehead against your knees in absolute embarrassment, hand gripping the phone and totally ignoring the papers — your supposed current problem.

You aren't sure how much time has passed but you know you were staring at the ground the whole time, not moving an inch to actually tidy your room or to gather your papers at least.

No, you do none of that.

Instead, you rise from the ground to move towards the door and stand there. Like a creep. Waiting for a ring, waiting for a knock.

As soon as it rings, you swing open the door.

"Woah, this was quick." he lets out a little breathless.

"You're here." you stare at him.

"Of course I am." he grumbles with no venom tainting his voice. "Who do you take me for?"

You could see his eyes soften as he meets your gaze, sees how little puffy your lids were — as if you were crying.

Did you cry because of him?

Jason doesn't say anything, only raises his hand ever so slightly and about to press his palm against your cheek to caress your skin with his thumb — but then he catches himself and stops.

"Can I come in now?" he drops his hand to the side.

"Yes—Yes, sure." you are awkward, stepping aside for him to enter and closing the door behind him. "Thanks."

"Nothing to thank me for."

"Of course I do." you tut, attention on him yet your gaze on the ground, "thank you for taking your time to come... Even if I'm being a bother."

He could swear up and down that you are not a bother.

"Yeah..." he trails off, now as equally awkward as you while his throat closes, "what do you need help with?"

"...Promise you won't go when I answer that question?" you sheepishly ask, eyes trailing down — he was still suited up.

He came without wasting a second.

Your heart feels weird.

"Promise."

"Everything. I need help with everything. Life, I don’t know.”

This elicits a chuckle out of him — genuine and low for your ears only. You avert your gaze from him not out of embarrassment but rather in fluster.

"You can go if you have better things to do..."

"No, it's alright." he walks past you and manoeuvres his way through the apartment as if he memorised the very walls surrounding him, "I can do that."

"Really?"

"Mmh.." he hums and sets his eyes on the inside of your room, seeing how the papers were scattered across the floor. "You made a mess."

"Don't mind it much. I err—I was in a hurry."

"Or in stress."

"Nah..." you trail off as you watch how he begins to gather them, immediately crouching down to help.

"Thank you..." you thank him once again, ears suddenly all warm.

You’re so stupid. Why did you ask your ex out of all people?

"Of course." he meets your gaze before whispering, “don’t feel stupid.”

“I don’t.”

You do. And he knows the best.

© 2026 kumasakka — do not plagiarize , copy , modify , translate our work ⸝⸝

divider source — @cursed-carmine ⸝⸝

author’s note — I saw this one tiktok and yea im dying on the jason is super smart hill because he is and btw jason and reader broke up on good terms haha ⸝⸝

dc taglist — @fireriyu ⸝⸝

check out the [ masterlist ] !

[ems-typewriter]

Dreams of You

pairing: jason todd x reader

summary: jason has a nightmare and reader goes to help comfort him

word count: 1.3k

warnings/tags: sfw, fem!reader, cursing, mention of death and injury, description of reader getting hurt from the joker in the dream, angst, comfort, no y/n, use of pet names

Your mouth feels dry where it rests against the pillow, while a shiver runs down your spine at the cold that now runs through your bones. You turn around, throwing your arm out to pull Jason closer, but you're met with empty sheets that hold a lingering body heat. Blinking harshly to adjust to the darkness of the room, Jason is nowhere to be found. 

The faint sound of the living room window snapping shut catches your attention. You reach aimlessly toward the nightstand, sending something crashing to the ground in the process, before you grab your phone and turn it on. You're forced to squint against the blinding light of the screen to make out the time on the background: 04:17. You brows furrow slightly and you try to recall Jason having patrol this morning, but nothing comes to mind. The only thing you can think is that it would be an emergency, but even then, he’d leave a post it note on top of your phone so you know where he is. 

There’s a sinking anxiety in your gut that makes you carelessly toss the comforter aside, slip on Jason’s worn-in hoodie that engulfs you in fabric, before padding out of the bedroom. As the window leading to the fire escape comes into sight, you see all 220 pounds of muscle hunched over on the escape looking over the still bustling city with an unlit cigarette in his hand. 

In the hopes of not startling him, you make sure when you slide the window open it makes that familiar squeak to alert him. His shoulders tense up at the sound, but when he glances over and sees you slipping through the window to join him, they ease back down. You take the spot next to him sitting criss-cross to take up as little space as possible. 

You’ve learned the quickest way for Jason to shut down is to push him to talk, so you patiently wait for him to say something—if he says anything at all—first. You look up at the sky in hope to see the brightest of stars shining down on you, but the light emanating from Gotham drowns them all out.

“I thought I lost you.” 

Your attention shifts from the night sky to narrow in on Jason. Tilting your head in obvious confusion as you ask, “What do you mean? I’m right here.”

“It’s stupid but I—I had a nightmare.” He mumbles it so quietly like he’s ashamed of the fact that something he deems so childish could have him so shaken up. 

It’s now that you notice the mild tremor of the unlit cigarette still held between his middle and pointer. You reach over, removing the cigarette from his grasp, and softly intertwining your fingers against his calloused grip. His hand still shakes, but less so now that you’ve extended a silent lifeline. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

He waits so long to respond, that you think he chose to ignore your question, before finally, “Everything that happened to me… it happened to you instead.”

The sinking you felt earlier is nothing compared to the anchor of emotions that now weighs you down at the thought of him being stuck in inner turmoil. You don't say anything, just squeeze his hand in support for him to continue if he wants. 

“The Joker got to you instead of me. I was forced to see you get beat and tortured to death, when it was supposed to be me. I was stuck watching him give you all of the scars that weigh me down—the J he carved into my cheek, was engraved on yours.” He takes a shaky breath. “All that pain happened to you and I couldn’t make it stop. I can’t stop hearing your screams and pleading.

“Then the dream shifted from that fucking warehouse to your grave. Nobody was doing anything, they all just stood there, but I figured because I came back then so would you, so I dug. I thought—hoped you’d still be alive, so I clawed through the dirt till my fingers were bleeding but there wasn't even a casket. You were just… gone.”

That's when he finally glances over at you for the first time, and the lights from the city dimly reflect the two tears that have run past his cheeks, gathering at his jaw. You carefully uncross your legs, and swing one over so you're straddling his lap. His hands automatically come to rest on your hips, his grip tighter than normal, like he’s making sure this is real and he's not still stuck in the dream.

You lift your hands to wipe the tears from his face, but as another one makes a new path in its place, you quickly wipe that one away too. You gently take one of his hands away from your waist to place it against the steady beat of your heart. “I’m right here, baby. My heart is beating and nothing happened to me.”

“But the feelings are lingering. I still feel the fear and helplessness I did in the dream when I couldn’t save you.” His voice breaks slightly and his forehead drops to your chest. “I’m sorry. I'm so sorry.”

“Jay, honey, it's okay. It wasn’t real. None of it was real, okay? I'm here in your arms, safe.” You run your fingers through his hair, gently trying to coax him to lift his head again. 

“You’re never gonna be safe with me, though.” 

“That’s not true.” You lift his head up, and he looks more like a sad puppy than the intimidating Red Hood that makes grown men cry. “I’m safer with you than I could ever have been. I mean you literally had Tim install tracking on every device I own, and on my purses. It took a lot of pride for you to ask Tim for a favor, but you did for my safety. I text Duke close to everyday and get coffee with Cass every Thursday. Damian randomly shows up to our apartment when the manor becomes too much and Dick invites us over for dinner twice a week. And like it or not, Bruce is the Batman. You can’t get much safer than literally being surrounded by vigilantes on a daily basis.” 

He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you, so you continue talking. “I get nightmares too sometimes. Ones of you dying on patrols, Dick knocking on the door saying that you won’t come back this time, and having to live without you. I get those too, but then I look over and you're fast asleep drooling on the pillow.” You add the last part in with a soft smirk on your lips. 

“I don’t drool.” He says rolling his eyes, but you already heard the slight huff of laughter that came from him. 

“Debateable.” 

His gaze turns solemn again. “I just—I can’t live without you. I can’t.” 

“And you won’t,” you whisper against his skin before pressing a kiss to his temple. “Because most of all, I’m surrounded by you, Jason Todd. You’ve always shown up every time I’ve needed you and I know that no matter what, I have nothing to worry about, because you’ll show up. I’m not going through this life without you either.”

His hand gently cups the back of your neck and brings you to rest your forehead against his. “Can we stay like this for a while longer? I need to know this is real.” 

You nod, pressing a barely there kiss to his scarred cheek. “We can stay out here as long as you want, Jay. I’m not going anywhere.” 

He pulls you impossibly closer to him, and you bury your face in his neck, trying to steal as much of his warmth as you can. You feel your eyes getting heavy from waking up at such an odd time in the morning, but just as you’re about to fall into sleep again, you faintly hear, “I love you,” followed by a kiss to your forehead.

authors note: im backkkkkkkk!!! technically my classes dont end till tomorrow, but ive been writing down so many ideas during this break and i wanted to start writing this one because it kept coming to mind!!

[crookshanks-07]

Pretty Isn't Pretty

Bat!sib x batfam 

Summary: Bat!sib isn’t a vigilante like the rest of the family and gets insecure about how they look 

All pics are from pinterest!

Asks/requests are open! Masterlist

You loved your family. That had never been the problem. The problem was that loving your family also meant learning how to disappear beside them. Camera flashes burst like tiny explosions across the front steps of the Gotham Museum as Bruce stepped from the limousine, effortlessly slipping into the polished smile the city adored. Dick offered his arm to an elderly board member before she could even ask, earning a chorus of delighted laughter from the crowd. Tim was already halfway through answering a reporter's question about Wayne Enterprises' newest scholarship initiative. Damian stood with his hands folded neatly behind his back, posture impossibly straight despite looking as though he'd rather be anywhere else. Jason arrived fashionably late. Of course he did. The crowd seemed to love him for it.

"There he is!"

"Jason! Over here!"

"Can we get a picture?"

He rolled his eyes dramatically before flashing one crooked grin that somehow made every camera flash twice as fast. Beside you, Bruce chuckled under his breath. "You'd think they came to see him."

"They probably did," Jason replied without missing a beat.

Dick bumped his shoulder. "Your ego's showing."

"It's always showing." The family dissolved into easy laughter. You smiled too. Because you were happy.

Really.

"Waynes! Right here!" The photographer waved everyone together. Bruce stood in the center as always. Dick slipped naturally to one side, Jason to the other. Tim adjusted his tie while Damian muttered something that made Dick snort. Without thinking, everyone fell into familiar places.

You hesitated. There wasn't really anywhere for you. Dick noticed first. "C'mere." He rested a hand lightly against your shoulder, pulling you into the space between himself and Tim. "There."

Flash.

Another photographer shouted. "One more!"

Flash.

"Eyes over here!"

Flash.

By the tenth picture your cheeks hurt from smiling.

The articles were online before you made it home. You hadn't intended to look. You never intended to look. Yet somehow your thumb always found its way there.

WAYNE FOUNDATION RAISES RECORD DONATIONS AT ANNUAL GALA

The first photo showed Bruce. The second showed Dick laughing with donors. The third was Jason shaking hands with firefighters. The fourth caught Tim mid-conversation. The fifth was Damian standing beside Alfred. The sixth...

was the family portrait.

You stared at it longer than you meant to. Everyone looked... effortless. Dick somehow smiled with his whole face. Jason looked like he'd accidentally wandered onto the cover of a magazine. Tim's suit fit like it had been stitched onto him. Even Damian, who had complained about attending the gala for three straight hours, looked composed. Then your eyes drifted toward yourself. Your smile looked too tight. Your posture seemed awkward. Your hair had fallen strangely around your face. Had your shoulders always looked like that?

You barely noticed the article anymore. Instead, you pinched at your reflection in the dark computer screen. Maybe if you stood straighter...

Maybe if you lost a little weight...

Maybe if—

A notification appeared.

Comments (642)

You should've closed the tab. Instead... You clicked.

"Dick Grayson somehow gets more handsome every year."

"Jason Todd needs to stop looking this good in suits."

"Tim Drake has literally never taken a bad picture."

"Damian looks exactly like Bruce."

Your chest loosened. Then you kept scrolling.

"Who's the other one?"

"I always forget Bruce has another kid."

"Everyone else won the genetic lottery."

"Poor thing."

"Imagine being the least attractive Wayne."

You stared at the screen. Not because they were right. But because they had noticed the exact thing you'd spent years trying to convince yourself no one else saw. A knock sounded softly against your bedroom door. You hurriedly clicked the laptop shut. "...Come in."

The door opened. Dick leaned against the frame, still wearing the same suit from the gala, tie already loosened around his neck. "You disappeared."

"I was just getting ready for bed."

His eyes flicked briefly toward the still-warm laptop. Then back to you. "...Everything okay?"

You smiled automatically. The same practiced smile from every family photograph. "I'm fine."

Dick held your gaze for a long moment. He didn't believe you. But he also knew you well enough not to push. "Okay," he said quietly. "If you change your mind..." He left the sentence unfinished before gently closing the door behind him.

The room fell silent again. Slowly... You opened the laptop. The comments were still there. Waiting. And despite everything, despite knowing better...

You kept reading.

The comments should have faded. People on the internet were cruel. You knew that. They didn't know you. They'd never met you. So why did every mirror suddenly feel like it was proving them right?

You found yourself lingering in front of the bathroom mirror longer than usual. At first it was innocent enough. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Turned your head to the left. Then the right. Maybe your nose looked better from this angle. Maybe your jaw would look sharper if you smiled less. You sucked in a breath.

No.

Again.

You turned sideways. Your sweater clung to your waist. Had it always done that? Your hand drifted to your stomach before you realized what you were doing. A knock startled you. "You alive in there?" Jason called through the door.

You jumped. "Yeah!"

"You've been in there like twenty minutes."

"I was just getting ready."

Jason laughed. "Unless you're secretly Bruce putting on eyeliner, I don't know what takes that long."

You forced a laugh back. "Coming."

You flicked the bathroom light off before giving yourself one last glance. Somehow... You looked worse than when you'd walked in.

Breakfast was louder than usual. Dick was animatedly recounting some ridiculous encounter he'd had with a donor who'd mistaken Jason for a bodyguard. "I swear she tipped him twenty bucks."

Jason stabbed his fork dramatically toward him. "I should've taken it."

"You almost did."

"I considered it." Everyone laughed. Even Bruce smiled over the edge of his coffee mug.

Alfred placed another stack of pancakes on the table. "Master Jason, perhaps five is sufficient."

"Alfred, It’s bulking season.”

"You said that yesterday."

"And?"

"You also complained your suit no longer fit." 

Jason looked personally offended. "It shrunk."

"It most certainly did not." More laughter. You smiled. When Alfred set a plate in front of you, you stared at it for a moment before cutting a small corner from one pancake. Your appetite had vanished somewhere between the bathroom mirror and the dining room.

Dick noticed first. "...Everything okay?"

You looked up. "Hm?"

"You've been pushing your food around for like five minutes."

"Oh." You glanced down. "I guess I'm just not that hungry."

Jason leaned back in his chair. "You sick?"

"No."

"You sure?"

"Mhm."

Bruce looked over briefly. "If you're feeling unwell, you should stay home today."

"I'm fine." Your answer came a little too quickly. Bruce watched you for another second before returning to his newspaper. No one mentioned it again.

By the end of the week, it had become a habit. You found reasons not to eat breakfast. "I'm running late." Lunch became coffee. Dinner became "I grabbed something on campus." Sometimes that was true. Usually it wasn't.

"Movie night!" Dick appeared in the library carrying enough snacks to feed a football team.

Jason followed behind him with three pizzas balanced precariously in his arms. "If one of you drops this," he warned, "I will beat you.”

"You've been saying that for years," Tim muttered.

“And have I ever lied?” 

Steph wandered in, immediately stealing a breadstick.

Jason gasped. "Traitor."

Cass drifted quietly into the room a few moments later, settling cross-legged on the couch beside Damian. She looked toward the doorway. Waiting. Dick followed her gaze. “…not everyone is here.” 

Tim frowned. "They said they'd be down."

"They've been saying that for twenty minutes." Dick jogged upstairs. A soft knock echoed through your bedroom. "You decent?"

You minimized your laptop so quickly your finger slipped across the trackpad. "Yeah."

Dick poked his head inside. "You coming?" Your bed was covered in clothes. A black sweater. A cream sweater. Two pairs of jeans. Three different jackets. He frowned. "You changing?"

"I can't figure out what looks okay."

"You've already changed?"

"...Maybe."

Dick laughed softly. "You've got more outfit changes than Jason."

"Hey!" Jason shouted from downstairs. "I heard that!"

Dick grinned before looking back at you. "I like the green one."

"It makes me look..." You stopped yourself. Dick waited. "...Never mind."

He picked up the sweater from your bed. "It makes you look like you."

You looked away. "I don’t…really like how I look." The words escaped before you could stop them. Silence.

Dick's smile disappeared. "What?"

You blinked. "I didn't—"

"You've never said that before."

"I was kidding."

"No..." His voice softened. "You weren't." For a second, he looked like he wanted to ask more. Instead he simply handed you the sweater. "We're starting the movie whenever you're ready." He smiled again. Gentler this time. "You don't have to impress anybody downstairs."

After he left, you stared at the closed bedroom door. Then down at the sweater in your hands. Slowly... You folded it back onto the bed. You never went downstairs.

Cass found you nearly an hour later. Not in your room. Outside. The gardens behind Wayne Manor were quiet at night. You sat on the stone edge of the fountain, knees pulled against your chest as the water rippled softly in front of you. Cass didn't announce herself. She simply sat beside you. For several minutes, neither of you spoke. You watched the koi glide beneath the water. Cass watched you. Finally, she nudged your shoulder. A gentle bump.

You glanced over. She pointed toward the fountain. Your reflection shimmered across the surface. Then she pointed to herself. You looked confused. Cass spoke quietly. "When I was little..." She searched for the words. "I hated mirrors."

You frowned. "You did?"

She nodded. "I thought..."

Another pause. "...I looked like a weapon."

Your chest tightened. Cass's eyes remained fixed on the water. "I couldn't see..." She rested a hand against her heart. "...me." Only then did she look at you. "What do you see?"

Your reflection trembled with the movement of the water. You looked at it anyway. For a long time. When you finally answered... Your voice was barely louder than the fountain. "...Someone who doesn't belong in family pictures."

Cass's head turned so sharply it almost startled you. Her eyes, always so calm, filled with something unmistakable.

Heartbreak.

Not because she believed you. Because she knew... You believed it.

The first person to really try was Dick. He never made it obvious. He simply started inviting you everywhere again. "Coffee?"

"I'm studying."

"Okay. Lunch?"

"I already ate."

"Walk around the gardens?"

"Maybe later."

"Movie tonight?"

"I'm kind of tired."

Every answer came with a smile. Every smile looked just convincing enough. Dick accepted every excuse. Until he realized you'd stopped saying yes to anything.

Jason's approach was considerably less subtle. He cornered you in the kitchen one afternoon while digging through the refrigerator. "You mad at somebody?"

You looked up from your mug. "What?"

"You've been weird."

"I've been busy."

"You've been avoiding us."

"I haven't."

He snorted. "You skipped movie night."

"I had homework."

"You skipped game night."

"I wasn't feeling good."

"You skipped dinner with us yesterday."

"I ate earlier."

Jason shut the refrigerator with his hip. "...You know your tells suck, right?"

You looked away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You scratch your thumb whenever you're lying."

Your hand immediately dropped from where you'd been absentmindedly rubbing the side of your thumb. Jason noticed. Of course he noticed. His expression softened. "Hey."

You wouldn't meet his eyes. "If somebody said something to you..."

"They didn't."

"You sure?"

"I'm fine."

He sighed. "I don't believe you."

“Yeah, I know."

Tim noticed something different. One evening he walked into the library carrying a stack of papers only to stop short. You were asleep on one of the couches. Your laptop rested open on your stomach. Your phone had slipped from your hand onto the carpet. Tim quietly set his books down. He reached to move the laptop before it slid off and accidentally brushed the trackpad. The screen woke. A dozen tabs filled the browser.

"How to lose face fat."

"How many calories should I eat?"

"How to know if you're attractive."

"How to stop looking ugly."

Tim froze. His stomach dropped. He looked over at you. You looked exhausted. Not sleeping. Collapsed. He quietly closed the laptop before you woke. When he left the library twenty minutes later, he didn't head toward his room. He knocked once on Bruce's study door.

Bruce listened without interrupting. Tim rarely cried. But his voice cracked anyway. "...I think something's really wrong."

Cass didn't wait. The next morning she found you folding laundry in the sitting room. Without saying a word, she sat beside you. She folded towels. You folded shirts. Minutes passed in comfortable silence. Then Cass held up one of your sweaters. She pointed at it. Then at you. "Cute."

You smiled faintly. "It's old."

She shook her head. "No."

She tapped your chest. "You."

Your hands stopped moving. Cass smiled. "You."

You swallowed hard. "...Thanks." She could tell you didn't believe her.

It became impossible not to notice. You stopped appearing in family photos unless someone dragged you in. You wore oversized sweaters even on warm days. You flinched whenever someone tried to hug you around the waist. You laughed less. You looked down more. By the end of the month... Wayne Manor felt quieter. Because you were quieter.

Bruce finally called everyone into the library. Dick. Jason. Tim. Cass. Damian. Alfred lingered near the doorway. Bruce looked at each of them. "Has anyone spoken to them?”

Silence.

"They insist they're fine," Dick admitted.

Jason rubbed the back of his neck. "They're lying."

Cass nodded once. "They hurt."

Tim looked down. "I found something."

Every eye turned toward him. He hesitated. "I wasn't snooping."

"No one thinks you were," Bruce said gently.

Tim swallowed. "...Their laptop.” His voice became quieter. "They've been looking up..." He couldn't finish.

Jason frowned. "What?"

Tim finally forced the words out. "'How to stop looking ugly.'"

Silence.

Utter silence.

Dick's face drained of color. Jason stared. Damian frowned in genuine confusion. Cass closed her eyes. Bruce...

Bruce felt something inside him crack. Because all this time... He had been looking for some enormous, hidden problem. When all along... His child had simply been looking in the mirror.

That evening Bruce insisted everyone eat dinner together. No excuses. No disappearing upstairs. No work. No phones. Just family. For a little while... It almost felt normal.

Dick told another ridiculous story. Jason and Damian argued over absolutely nothing. Tim corrected both of them. Cass smiled quietly from beside you. Bruce watched you laugh once. Only once. It disappeared almost immediately.

When dinner ended, Bruce spoke softly. "Stay for a minute."

Everyone paused. You frowned. "...Am I in trouble?"

"No." Bruce looked around the table. "We're worried."

Your stomach tightened. "I'm okay."

"You aren't."

"I am."

"You've lost weight."

"I'm eating."

"You've withdrawn."

"I've been busy."

"You've stopped spending time with us."

"I'm tired."

Bruce's voice remained impossibly calm. "...Look at me."

Slowly... You did.

"We love you."

"I know."

"You don't seem convinced."

"I said I know."

Dick leaned forward. "Whatever's going on, we're here."

Jason nodded. "You don't have to deal with it alone."

Cass reached over, gently taking your hand. "You’re safe."

Something inside you snapped. You pulled your hand away so quickly your chair scraped across the hardwood floor. "You don't get it!" The room fell silent. "You keep saying that!"

Jason blinked. "Saying what?"

"'We're here.' 'We love you.' 'You're fine.'" Your breathing grew shaky. "You don't understand!"

Dick stood. "Then help us understand."

"No!" Your voice cracked. "Because you can't!" Tears blurred your vision. "You all keep acting like it's nothing because none of you know what it's feels like!"

"What what feels like?" Bruce asked quietly.

You laughed. A broken, humorless sound. "Looking in the mirror and hating what you see." No one moved. "You all..."

You looked around the table.

At Dick.

Jason.

Tim.

Cass.

Damian.

Bruce.

"...You're all beautiful." The words spilled out faster now. "Dick, people literally stop him on the street. Jason could wear a garbage bag and people would still stare. Tim looks perfect without even trying. Cass is gorgeous. Damian somehow has a jawline carved by God." A watery laugh escaped you. "And Bruce Wayne has been on magazine covers for thirty years."

Silence.

You wiped angrily at your face. "I'm not like you." Your voice dropped to barely a whisper. "I never will be." Another tear escaped. "I'm the ugly Wayne." The words echoed through the dining room. "I see the comments." Your shoulders shook. "I see people asking who I am. I see them wondering what happened to me. I see them saying I'm the least attractive one."

You pressed a hand against your chest as though trying to hold yourself together. "And the worst part..." Your voice broke completely. "...is every time I look in the mirror..." You squeezed your eyes shut. "...I think they're right."

Silence.

Not the uncomfortable kind. The devastated kind. The kind that settled over a room when no one could find words big enough to hold what had just been said. You stared at the tabletop, unable to look at any of them. Shame crawled up your throat. You shouldn't have said it. You shouldn't have cried. You should've just gone upstairs. You pushed your chair back. "I-I'm sorry." Your voice was barely audible. "I didn't mean to ruin dinner." You stood too quickly. "I'll just—"

Warm fingers wrapped around your wrist. Gentle. Not enough to stop you. Just enough to ask you to stay. You looked down. Cass. She hadn't said a word. She simply looked up at you, her thumb brushing softly across your knuckles. Her expression was so heartbreakingly gentle that your chest tightened all over again. She gave one tiny shake of her head. Don't go.

Your knees almost gave out. Then another chair scraped across the floor. Dick. He didn't hesitate. In two strides he was beside you. Without asking, he wrapped both arms around you. Not tight.

Just...

Home.

For a heartbeat you stood stiffly in his embrace. Then everything you'd spent weeks holding together unraveled. Your forehead dropped against his shoulder. A sob escaped before you could swallow it. "I'm sorry," you whispered.

Dick's arms tightened. "Oh, kid." His voice cracked around the words. "You never have to apologize for hurting."

Behind him you heard Jason clear his throat. "...Move."

Dick glanced over his shoulder. "What?"

"I said move."

"You can wait your—"

Jason shoved him sideways just enough to wedge himself into the hug. Dick laughed through suspiciously watery eyes. "Seriously?"

"I called dibs."

"You absolutely did not."

"You were hogging them."

"I was comforting them."

"I can comfort too."

"You just shoulder-checked me."

"It was affectionate."

"It was assault."

Despite yourself... A tiny laugh escaped through your tears. Jason immediately pointed. “See.” He looked triumphantly at Dick. "I got a laugh."

"You bullied your way into a hug."

"And?"

"And somehow it worked."

Tim sighed from across the table. "You two are unbelievable."

But thirty seconds later... It was no longer a hug. It was a pile. Dick still had one arm around you. Jason leaned against both of you with absolutely no regard for personal space. Tim awkwardly tried to participate without crushing anyone. Cass quietly slipped beside you again, resting her head against your shoulder. Even Damian approached. He stopped beside the group, clearly evaluating the situation like it was a tactical problem. Jason looked over. "Well?"

Damian frowned. "This appears... excessive."

"You've been invited."

"I most certainly have not."

Dick lifted an arm. "Invitation extended."

Damian sighed the long-suffering sigh of someone burdened by incompetent relatives. "...Very well." He stepped forward with all the enthusiasm of someone accepting a prison sentence.

Jason immediately hooked an arm around his shoulders. "There he is."

"I regret this already."

"You love us,” you laughed weakly, looking over at Damian. 

"I tolerate you."

Cass smiled. "You love."

Damian looked at her. "...Perhaps."

Jason gasped dramatically. "He admitted it!"

"I admitted nothing."

"You basically wrote us a sonnet." Dick laughed.

"You've gone soft."

"I have done no such thing."

By now, you were crying and laughing so hard you couldn't tell which was which. Bruce had remained at the head of the table the entire time. Watching. His children. All tangled together in one hopeless, lopsided embrace. Alfred appeared quietly in the doorway with a dish towel over one shoulder. He took one look at the scene and smiled. "I was wondering why no one had begun dessert."

Jason lifted his head. "We're occupied."

"So I see." Alfred disappeared for a moment before returning with a large carton of ice cream and a stack of bowls. "I believe," he said, setting them on the table, "this constitutes a chocolate evening."

Jason's eyes widened. "...The emergency ice cream?"

"The very same."

Dick looked scandalized. "You've been hiding emergency ice cream from us?"

"Naturally."

"For how long?"

"Approximately twelve years."

"Twelve— Alfred!"

"I have found it prudent to maintain certain strategic reserves."

Even Bruce let out a quiet laugh. You looked around the room. At Dick still refusing to let go. At Jason arguing that emotional support entitled him to the biggest bowl. At Tim insisting he would portion it fairly while Jason loudly accused him of communism. At Damian secretly accepting the bowl Cass handed him despite claiming he didn't want any. At Alfred pretending not to notice Jason stealing spoonfuls straight from the carton.

At Bruce... Who had been watching you all evening with quiet, aching eyes. When your gaze met his, he smiled. Small. Soft. Proud. Not because you were smiling again. Not because the hurt was gone. But because... You had let them help carry it. And for tonight, that was enough.

Eventually the kitchen emptied. Dick insisted on helping Alfred wash dishes despite being repeatedly told he was "helping incorrectly." Jason and Damian resumed arguing over who had eaten the last brownie. Tim disappeared upstairs after promising everyone he absolutely was not going back to work. Cass squeezed your shoulder as she passed. "Goodnight."

You smiled. "Night."

One by one, the voices drifted farther down the hall until Wayne Manor settled into its familiar nighttime quiet. Only you remained. Your spoon traced lazy circles through the melted ice cream at the bottom of your bowl. You weren't really eating anymore. Just thinking.

The chair across from you scraped softly against the hardwood. Bruce sat down. For a while neither of you spoke. The grandfather clock somewhere down the hallway ticked steadily through the silence. Bruce folded his hands together on the table. "I've been trying to think of the right thing to say."

You managed a tired smile. "Have you?"

He nodded. "I've had about six different speeches."

"That many?"

"They were all terrible."

A quiet laugh escaped you. "I figured."

Bruce smiled faintly. "I was considering beginning with a quote."

"Oh no."

"I dismissed it immediately."

"Good."

"I also briefly considered statistics."

You stared at him. "...Statistics?"

"The percentage of edited photographs in fashion magazines."

You couldn't help it. You laughed. "What?"

"I told you. They were terrible." The laughter faded, leaving behind something softer. Bruce looked down at his hands. "When you were little..." His voice was quieter now. "You used to crawl into my office almost every afternoon."

You frowned slightly. "I did?"

"You'd color." A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Usually on documents I needed."

"I'm sorry."

"I wasn't." He looked up at you. "You'd ask me every few minutes if I thought your drawing was good."

You felt heat creep into your cheeks. "I don't remember that."

"I do."

His smile lingered. "And every single time..." He paused. "...before I could answer...You'd already decided it wasn't." Your smile slowly disappeared. Bruce continued gently. "You'd point out every mistake. 'The clouds look weird.''Batman's ears are too big.''I messed up the cape.'" He looked at you for a long moment. "I remember wondering how someone so small could be so hard on themselves." 

Your eyes dropped to the table. "I guess some things don't change."

"No." His answer came immediately. "They don't."

Silence settled between you again. Then Bruce reached across the table. Not dramatically. Not with a speech. He simply rested his hand over yours. Warm. Steady. "I wish..." His voice caught. "I wish I had noticed sooner."

Your eyes lifted to his. "I thought I was protecting all of you."

His thumb brushed lightly across your knuckles. "I taught you how to be cautious." A sad smile. "How to read people. How to expect the worst from Gotham." He swallowed. "I never meant for you to start looking at yourself the same way."

Your throat tightened. "You didn't."

"I should have seen it."

"I hid it."

"You shouldn't have had to." For a long moment, neither of you moved. Then Bruce stood. You looked at him in confusion. Without a word, he walked around the table. He stopped beside your chair. Opened his arms, just slightly. An awkward invitation. The kind he probably hadn't offered since you were a child.

You smiled through fresh tears. "You're asking?"

"I've been informed," Bruce said with the faintest hint of amusement, "that asking is important."

"Dick?"

"Dick."

You stood. The moment you stepped forward, Bruce wrapped you in his arms. He held you carefully, as though you were still the little kid who used to color on Wayne Enterprises contracts. One hand rested against the back of your head. The other rubbed slow circles between your shoulders. "I'm so proud of you."

The words were almost whispered. You frowned against his shoulder. "For what?"

"For telling us."

You closed your eyes. "I was scared."

"I know."

"I thought..." Your voice trembled. "I thought if I said it out loud..."

Bruce leaned his cheek lightly against your hair. "...It would become true?"

A shaky nod. His arms tightened. "My sweet child." There was so much grief in those three words that it nearly broke you all over again. "You have spent weeks believing the opinions of strangers." His voice remained impossibly gentle. "But if there is one thing I hope you eventually believe..." He leaned back just enough to look at you. "...Believe your family instead."

A tear slipped down your cheek. Bruce reached up and brushed it away with his thumb, just like he had when you were little. "You don't have to see yourself the way we see you tonight." He smiled softly. "I'll be patient. As long as it takes."

And somehow... For the first time in a very long while...

Looking at yourself tomorrow didn't feel quite as frightening anymore.

A/N Please if you are feeling insecure, sad or just need someone to talk to, my inbox is always always always open <3 Ik it's scary but I will always be an open ear if someone needs it

DC taglist: @theall-seeingone

[bat1nsignia]

off limits (requested!) conner kent x batsis!vigilante reader

mentions: she/her, brother’s best friend, can we classify this as fluff??, conner being so whipped, reader patrols during the day, first meeting, uhh idk what else (i love the batsis!reader and conner propaganda sorry not sorry)

—————————————————————————

the first time conner met you, his glasses almost slid clean off his face

he was with tim in his room, arguing about how weird cows were while tim was typing on his monitor. but their bantering paused when they heard a knock on the door. and when the door opened, it revealed to be you

conner has heard of you, of course. you were tim’s sister, who patrols during the day, which is why he never saw you—until now. but god, no one talked about how pretty you were. like pretty pretty

his jaw slightly dropped, glasses slowly sliding from the bridge of his nose to reveal his widened blue eyes in awe. this man was in love

“hey tim, B is just asking for the data you—" your words died in your throat when your eyes landed on conner. and the eye contact immediately made him snap out of it abruptly, covering his faint blush by pushing his glasses back up so fast they nearly smacked into his face “oh my god” tim murmured to himself, already sounding exhausted. you blinked once before glancing at tim, waiting for him to introduce you to conner. “uh…” ‘that’s kon” tim introduced to you flatly, still typing and focused on the monitor. “kon, my sister”

conner sat up too quickly and eagerly from the bed. “hi” but he cleared his throat and tried again after noticing how eager he must have sounded. “hi” this time, his voice was deeper

tim cringed so hard it looked like he was physically pained, but an amused expression formed on your face, almost as if you were entertained. “hi” you greeted back with a smile. “so you’re superboy”

“the one and only” he responded casually, too casually. under the shades, conner’s eyes went to your smile— more specifically, your lips— and it made him forget every single thought he’d ever had

the more you kept staring at him, the more you held back your smirk by biting your bottom lip as you leaned on the doorframe with your arms crossed. who knew that tim’s friends were this attractive-- let alone, this entertaining

conner cleared his throat again but more carefully as he broke the silence. “so…” but immediately regretted the way he spoke. “so?” you repeated, casually tilting your head “you patrol during the day?” “most days. depends on gotham behaving itself but we know it usually doesn’t” a faint smile went on conner’s lips. “you always meet your brother’s friends like this?” his tone was now steadier. that made a small laugh leave your lips and conner’s expression softened in a way that made it obvious he liked that sound more than he should

all you did was tilt your head in amusement, your eyes glinting. “only the interesting ones” tim stopped typing and abruptly got up from his chair with the file in his hands. “okay, here’s the data” he quickly shoved the file in your hands, already leading you to the door. “i- tim! what the—?“ “goodnight!” tim slammed the door shut and leaned on it to give conner a glare, making the half kryptonian blink out of his trance. “what?” “she’s my sister” “i know that” “i’m serious, conner” tim walked up to him slowly and pointed a finger directly at his chest. “she’s off limits.” conner just let out a scoff, already sitting back down on tim’s bed. “dude, i literally just met her”

 that made tim’s glare sharpen even more, making conner sigh and wave a hand to dismiss the conversation. “yeah yeah, whatever. no falling in love with your sister, got it”

but his eyes widened the moment he saw tim’s expression worsen, making conner immediately sit up. “not that i was— i mean--“ he added, trying to save himself. “im not doing anything like that, i literally just met her five minutes ago and—” tim just sighed, walking back to his monitor and resuming his typing as conner continued to defend and explain himself

and the worst part? tim wasn’t convinced, and neither was conner

—————————————————————————

masterlist! ⤷ 2k event !

(a/n: the original draft was so messy cause i wanted to add so many other things but it got to a point where it got so confusing to write help)

main taglist: @sweetpeasosweet @lcvgty-4929 @fratbrochrisgf @wrldbloom @arabellas-barbarella-swimsuit12 @champagnesbiggestproblem @edawgz @hottubnda @onlyfeng @lucky-clover13 @tragicfiend @nyx-of-night @missmontiopath @bloomfaery @booksrcool @jaydennicole @gglouise23 @sicklyhana @klauvy @pocket-fish0 @romancedawn333 @sashadonat @uxavity @batslilwhore @oh-sheetcake @boo-123456 @ydivine @the-star-rover @slutfordpr @vradalinerv @arfemiz @freakkay09 @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @hernersworld @starrydustedwinter @inejskywalker @seeker2028 @ksiazkowaxx-blog @kh4dij7 @vanillakirstein @lillie1320 @t1mbits @branchesofmagic @devilslittlehelper @starr-jazz @nightwingblvd @yukimaniac @freddiweasly @devorator666 @dadump @ftkats @st4rl1ghtgrays0n @st4rstuddedreblogs @em12021 @heleneae @darkxwolfsstuff @imintoomanyfandoms14 @littlelightbearer (tags are open)

©bat1nsignia— please do not steal, repost, translate or reuse my work.

[groovyangelkisses]

clark with a ditzy, crybaby!coworker who he is secretly in love with is so special to me ♡

cw: hyperfem!reader, not proofread… just a little hc to daydream about clark to

going into work at the daily planet with teary eyes, and a sad little frown as you shuffle towards clark’s desk in your heels

you hold your wrist up toward him. “clarkie, look… my bracelet’s stuck.” :(

and clark doesn’t say a word. just kneels down in front of you on one knee and unhooks the tiny golden charm bracelet caught on your zipper.

and jimmy is sat there in hysterics over how whipped clark is… like literally holding his stomach at the speed with which clark put down his files and coffee cup to help you

and when you squeal and jump up to hug him with a loud “thank you, thank you, thank you!” and throw your arms around his neck

clark is RED and completely hunched down to your height but soooooo happy to see your pout go away

smilin’ at you with a sweet, proud nod as you go sit down at your desk with your jingling little bracelet now free of your tight cardigan

“jimmy! jimmy, look! clark fixed my bracelet, isn’t he a doll?!” “oh yeah he’s a real peach, honey”

blowin’ him a kiss before you fix up your mascara that was running earlier from the sheer stress of stuck jewelry

clark catches it with a blush, sliding into the front pocket of his suit for safe keeping <3

anything to make you smile <3

[faepoetry]

cashing in

❀ summary: jason was having a rough time with patrols recently and it was taking a toll on him. since you hated to see your boyfriend so exhausted and stressed out, you decided to try to make him smile.

❀ warnings: 18+ mdni nsfw, cursing, mentions of sex, sexual coupons.

❀ pairings: boyfriend!jason todd x bunny!reader.

❀ wc: 1.9k words.

❀ author's note: let me know if you want a part two or a blurb or something!

jason todd masterlist | bunny!reader masterlist | main masterlist

©faepoetry please do not steal, copy, repost, reuse, or translate my work.

You smiled to yourself as you slipped into your shared bedroom, a vibrant bouquet of flowers tucked carefully into the crook of your arm. Balanced in your hands were a few heavy takeout bags that got stacked on top of a carefully wrapped box.

The past few weeks had been brutal on Jason. You could see the toll patrol was taking on him in the rigid set of his shoulders and the dark circles bruising the skin under his eyes. Every night followed the same heavy routine: he’d drag himself through the door, utterly spent, press a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, and immediately collapse into bed.

It ached to see him carrying the weight of Gotham like that. You knew you couldn't erase the horrors of the city or the ghosts of his past, but tonight, you were determined to make him feel at peace.

Between his favorite comfort food, the fresh flowers, and the contents of the box which were a handmade "coupon book" full of vouchers for back massages, cuddles and kisses for an hour, and some other cute and spicy ones paired with a ridiculously cute, chubby little red panda keychain, you were going to make him smile. Even if he groaned and blushed first.

You crawled onto the center of the mattress, carefully arranging the takeout containers so the scent of his favorite food began to drift through the room. The fresh flowers were safely tucked on the nightstand, but the wrapped box went right in front of you on the covers. You settled back against the pillows, waiting.

As the minutes ticked by in the quiet room, a sudden knot of nerves tightened in your stomach. You stared down at the box that contained the coupon book and red panda keychain, and a wave of doubt hit you. Was this stupid? Jason was out there dealing with life or death situations, dealing with the literal scum of Gotham, and here you were waiting for him with a dorky keychain and coupons for kisses. What if he was too tired for this? What if he thought it was silly?

You reached out, your fingers hovering over the box, half-tempted to sweep it away and hide it in the closet before he could see it and just act like you picked up food instead. Before you could make up your mind, the muffled, heavy thud of the front door closing echoed from the hallway. Your heart skipped a beat. He was home.

The sound of his footsteps approached the bedroom door, sounding slower and more exhausted than usual. Your breath hitched, your hand dropping back into your lap as the doorknob turned with a quiet click. You found yourself fidgeting with your rings to try and keep your nerves at bay. You attempted to stuff your insecurities away and plastered on a smile.

The door swung open, and there he was.

Jason looked completely spent. His massive frame was slightly hunched, his hair damp from the Gotham rain and clinging to his forehead. He had already discarded his helmet, leaving his tired eyes and the dark circles beneath them completely exposed.

He paused in the doorway, blinking heavily as his gaze swept over the room. The harsh, defensive tension in his shoulders suddenly faltered as he took in the scene: the soft lighting, the fresh flowers on the nightstand, the savory scent of his favorite food, and you, sitting in the middle of it all. His eyes drifted down to the carefully wrapped box sitting right in front of you on the covers.

For a long moment, he just stood there, completely silent, as if he couldn't quite process what he was seeing.

The quiet in the bedroom stretched for another beat, the only sound the faint, rhythmic dripping of rain from his discarded gear out in the kitchen. You swallowed hard, your fingers tightening around your rings as you waited for him to say something to break the silence. Slowly, the confused, uncomprehending look in Jason’s eyes gave way to something incredibly soft as his eyes landed on you again.

"Hey," he breathed, his voice rough and gravelly. He didn't drop his eyes from you as he stepped fully into the room, letting the door click shut behind him. He reached up, unzipping his heavy leather jacket with slow, stiff movements, and let it slide off his shoulders to drop onto the nearby chair.

He didn't mention the food, and he didn't ask about the flowers yet. Instead, he walked straight over to the edge of the mattress. He didn't even look at the wrapped box, his eyes were entirely fixed on your face, seeing right through the brave smile you had plastered on. Without a word, Jason sat on the edge of the bed beside you. He reached out, his large, calloused hand gently covering yours, completely stilling your anxious fidgeting. "You did all this?" he murmured softly, his thumb tracing a comforting circle over the back of your knuckles.

Under the steady, overwhelming gratitude in his gaze, the last of your forced smile softened into something real, though a faint blush crept up your neck. "Yeah," you confessed softly, your voice a little smaller than you intended. You cleared your throat, nudging the wrapped box an inch closer to him with your free hand. "I know you've had a rough couple of weeks. I just... I wanted to make sure you had some happiness tonight. I got your favorite takeout."

Jason’s eyes tracked the movement of the box, then drifted back up to you. A tiny, faint trace of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, the first real one you’d seen on him in days. "Sweetheart, you're the only happy thing in this entire city. You're the sunshine to my darkness." He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, just like his usual routine, but this time he didn't immediately collapse into a dead sleep after. Instead he lingered there for a second, his forehead resting against yours as he took a deep breath.

When he pulled back, his hand slid from your knuckles to grab the wrapped box. "So," he murmured, his tone turning playfully curious as he eyed the neat wrapping paper. "What's this? You already fed me and bought me flowers. Am I being spoiled today?"

"Just open it." You said softly, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth.

Jason caught the anxious movement of your lips, his eyes softening even further if that was even possible. He let out a low, breathless chuckle, the sound vibrating warmly against your skin in the quiet room. "Alright, alright, opening it now," he murmured as he began to tear open the paper. After he tore the paper off carefully he opened the box and was immediately met with the red panda keychain.

For a second, he just stared at the chubby little red panda keychain sitting on top of the handmade booklet. You watched him nervously as your insecurities kicked in again. He must've thought it was so stupid. How would something like this help him?

Before your thoughts could spiral further, he picked up the keychain by it's metal ring, letting it dangle between his fingers as he studied it. He looked from the panda to you, one of his thick eyebrows arching up, though the amusement in his eyes completely gave him away. "A red panda, huh?" He asked with a small smirk. "No bats this time?"

"It looked like you." You blurted out, your cheeks immediately heating the second the words left your lips. "I- not the panda part! Of course you don't look like a panda," you rambled as Jason watched you with a brow arched, trying to hide his amusement. "You don't look like a panda. Just... it looks big and grumpy and it's also soft and cuddly. Just like you." You finished quietly, feeling so embarrassed, wishing that the bed could swallow you whole.

Jason let out a laugh at that, a sound that you hadn't herd in weeks. The sound almost made you jump when you first herd it but you felt your nerves begin to calm as his laughter died down. "Yeah well, I'm only soft for you." He said softly as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips.

He set the keychain down carefully on the mattress and picked up the handmade coupon book. He flipped it open, his eyes scanning the first page. A smile tipped his lips as he read some of the coupons.

'Good for: One hour of snuggles and kisses.'

'Good for: Free 15 minute back massage.'

'Good for: Breakfast in bed.'

He let out a low, appreciative hum as he flipped through the pages of sweet and cheesy coupons. You could tell the second he got to the portion of coupons that were spicy, his eyes darkening as he read some of them.

'Good for: One quickie at anytime.'

'Good for: One free nude pic.'

'Good for: Blindfolding and handcuffing me.'

The silence in the bedroom returned, but it wasn't the anxious quiet from before. It was thick, charged, and heavy with anticipation. Slowly, Jason closed the booklet. He set it down on the mattress beside the keychain, his movements deliberate and unhurried. When he looked back up at you, the exhaustion that had been weighing down his eyelids was completely gone, replaced by a hazy look of lust that made your breath catch.

He crawled up the mattress, the movement making you lay back against the mattress, until he was looming directly over you. His massive frame effectively blocked out the rest of the room, hands planted on either side of your head, trapping you between himself and the mattress. "You sat here," Jason began, his voice a rough growl as he leaned down, his nose brushing against yours, "worrying your pretty little head that this was stupid? Thinking I wouldn't want this?" He let out a low, breathy sound that was half-chuckle, half-groan, his eyes dropping to your lips before snapping back to yours. "Sweetheart, you have no idea what you’ve done to me tonight."

He reached out, his calloused fingers gently cupping your jaw, tilting your face up just a fraction more. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip, soothing the spot you had been nervously biting earlier.

"I fight the scum of the earth in this hellhole of a city every night feeling like I'm barely holding it together," he whispered, his eyes softening with gratitude, even as the heat in them remained. "And I walk in to find you waiting for me with flowers, my favorite food, and a book not only showing me just how much you love me but also telling me that you're entirely mine to play with."

A devastating smirk slowly pulled at the corner of his lips. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke. "The food smells amazing, and God knows I'm starving," Jason rasped, his hand sliding down from your jaw to wrap around your throat softly.. "But looking at you right now? I think I'm gonna need to cash in one of these vouchers first. Specifically this one." He said as he he sat up, his legs straddling you as he held his hand out to you, the coupon between his forefinger and middle finger. You took the coupon from him slowly as you bit your lip, your eyes reading over the words.

'Good for: One session of rough sex. No holding back, use my body to get all your frustration out.'

"So what do you say, sweetheart? Ready to help me forget about Gotham tonight?"

❀ end note: i kinda want to write a second part 👀🙈

❀ if you liked this fic then i would really appreciate it if you liked, or commented, or reblog it! thanks for reading! ❀

[brinawing]

in life and in death

dick grayson x reader fluff, slice of life, suggestive :P

Dick Grayson was a very particular man. He had a routine that he followed –which included going for regular weekly brunches at the manor. He drove for two hours every Sunday with you to see his family.

This time however, the brunch was shifted to a Thursday because Bruce had people coming in for a meeting and he wanted the whole family to be present. Naturally you couldn’t go with Dick because you had work.

Dick woke up before his alarm even went off due to the chill morning air hitting his bare body. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and glanced at the lack of blankets covering him. Thanks to his girlfriend who always ran cold.

You clung to Dick at night when you went to sleep because he was basically a human furnace with how warm he was but each morning you drifted away from him and hogged the blankets in a deathly grip where he couldn’t reach. Which caused him to wake up.

Yet he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

He turned sideways to look at your sleeping frame. Your hair sprawled all over your pillow with a small pout prominent on your lips as you stayed cocooned in the warm blankets.

Dick smiled gently and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead before getting out of bed. He turned his alarm off to let you sleep in for a bit because yours was set thirty minutes after his.

He stretched his body and cracked a few joints before making his way towards the bathroom. He splashed cold water on his face to wake him up before grabbing his electric toothbrush from the little Batman and Robin holder you had gotten as a joke.

He smiled at the memory as he mindlessly brushed his teeth, mind drifting back to you like it always did. Dick’s wildest fantasy involved you two quitting your jobs so you could stay in bed forever cuddling and having endless sex. He pictured your giggly face last night as he moved inside you, a matching look of giddiness on his face due to the wine you two had.

His eyes landed on the single love bite you had left just below his collarbone as payback for the twenty he left littered across your chest.

He had half a mind to cancel on Bruce but he was a man of his word so he spit the toothpaste out and hopped into the shower.

Twenty minutes later as Dick was standing in front of the sink in just a towel wrapped around his waist, he heard the bathroom door open as you strolled inside in one of his t shirts.

He gave you a quick peck on the forehead and you nudged him aside to grab your toothbrush. Dick had just been applying hair gel in his hair when your eyes met his through the mirror.

You began lazily brushing your teeth when Dick chuckled fondly at your puffy face. He picked up the hairdryer next and began styling his hair like he usually did each morning.

“You still had fifteen more minutes baby, why are you up?” Dick asked gently, afraid to disrupt the morning quiet.

You spit your toothpaste out before glaring at him through the mirror. “Someone left the bed and I was cold.”

“Oh you were cold?” Dick challenged and poked the side of your stomach, causing you to yelp. “You stole all the blankets you little thief.”

“I did not!” You protested.

“Yes you did and you rolled away from me I couldn’t even hold you,” he huffed dramatically as he continued fixing his hair.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised through mouthful of toothpaste, suddenly feeling bad for your boyfriend who was probably cold the whole night.

“It’s fine pretty. No need to apologise,” Dick smiled and wrapped his left arm around your stomach, resting his chin on your head.

You gave him a crooked smile before leaning down to spit the toothpaste out and rinse your mouth before finally turning around to look at your boyfriend.

“Hi,” you smiled, grabbing his face.

“Hello,” Dick chirped.

“Don’t you look dashing,” you commented, rubbing your palms over the coarse hair on his face.

“Well thank you m’lady,” he grinned and finally connected your lips.

“Dick that tickles!” You giggled, pushing him away. “Shave your beard.”

“I’ll do it tomorrow, I’m not going to work today,” Dick simply shrugged and grabbed the hair dryer again.

“You are going to Wayne Enterprises though,” you frowned, rubbing your palms over his face again.

“Baby it’s fine, Tim the CEO has to worry about that not me,” he gave you a quick peck on the cheek.

“You’re Bruce’s son too, you should look put together not like a rockstar who doesn’t know what a shower is.”

“What?” Dick snickered.

“I’m serious!”

“Just say you hate it.”

“I don’t hate it,” you replied. “I just don’t like it a lot.”

“Wow,” Dick muttered.

“Let me do it,” you offered, hopping on the counter.

“Yeah right,” Dick scoffed.

“Please!” You protested. “I shave my legs I know how to do it.”

“I think my face is a bit different than your legs angel, I do love them a lot don’t get me wrong,” as if to prove his point, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your bare thigh before resting his hand there.

“Dick!” You whined.

“No,” he said firmly.

You huffed and grabbed the shaving can from the sink along with his razor before spraying the shaving cream onto your fingers. You grabbed his wrist next and rubbed the cream over the hairy skin and before he could say anything, you swiped the razor across it.

“See?” You beamed up at him as you continued shaving the cream off his wrist.

Dick chewed on his bottom lip for a couple of seconds before finally rolling his eyes.

“Fine,” he sighed, slotting his hips between your thighs.

“Yay!” You cheered and clapped your hands, momentarily forgetting that the razor was in your hand with the plastic cap off and you were waving it in front of Dick’s eye.

“Yeah nevermind,” he said and began pulling away but you tightened your thighs around his waist.

“Sorry!” You said quickly.

“If I die, just know that I loved you dearly and I leave my motorcycle to Jason.”

“And nothing for me?” You dramatically gasped.

“I’m not dying alone am I? In life and death and all that?”

“Thats in sickness and in health you dork and we’re not married,” you pointed out.

“Yet,” Dick reiterated, planting a kiss on your nose.

“Enough stalling Nightwing,” you narrowed your eyes at him before grabbing the shaving can.

You shook it for a second before spraying a good amount on your palm before rubbing it across Dick’s bearded face. He closed his eyes and hummed lowly as he felt your soft hands rub against his coarse skin.

You put your thumb on his chin to tilt his head back carefully as you began gliding the razor across his skin. You worked in silence for a good few minutes in complete concentration with your eyebrows furrowed and your tongue peeking out from between your lips.

Dick smiled at the sight as his hands came to rest on your waist. He earned a harsh “shh! don’t move” from you when you felt his cheeks move due to his smile.

You worked your way up his throat towards the easier part of the face which were his cheeks. When you finally got to his cupid’s bow, you sat up straight and grabbed his face in your hands almost knocking your forehead against his with how close you were but you managed to gently glide the razor against his moustache.

Dick had to tap your waist once to make you stop long enough for him to press a kiss to your forehead, causing some shaving cream to linger before he asked you to continue.

You shook your head lightly at him but the smile breaking out on your face was enough to show him that you weren’t actually irritated by his antics.

Few more quick yet careful swipes of razor across his face and he was done, looking fresh with a clean shaven face.

He tapped your thigh to get out of the grip you had on his hips and washed his face with water to get rid of any remaining cream on his face. You watched him intently as he grabbed the razor from your hand and made a quick swipe across the corner of his mouth to get the patch of hair you had missed.

He washed the razor under the sink and wiped his face with a towel and before he even had the chance to put the towel back, you pulled him back between your thighs with your elbows resting on his shoulders.

“Hello handsome,” you grinned and touched your cheek to his.

“Wow,” Dick mused. “You really hate my beard huh?”

“I just like seeing your whole face,” you replied and before he could utter another word, you cupped his face in your hands and began pecking his face, causing him to let out a laugh.

“Okay!” Dick protested but you didn’t relent as your lips reached his adam’s apple. “If you keep this up I’ll cancel my meeting and you’ll have to miss work because I’ll keep you in bed all day.”

“Sorry,” you apologised, planting one last kiss on his nose. “I forgot it’s a crime to love on your boyfriend. You should punish me Nightwing,” you finished, giving him a playful smirk.

Dick closed his eyes for a beat and sucked in a harsh breath before he leaned forward to connect your lips in a searing kiss that lasted only for a beat.

“I’m calling Bruce, he doesn’t need me that bad,” he murmured against your lips.

You giggled and tugged at his styled hair to push him off you. “Go, I made coffee.”

“M’kay,” Dick hummed, pressing another kiss to your mouth before he helped you hop off the counter. “I’ll make you some toast before leaving and don’t forget your vitamins.”

“Yes daddy!” You said with a dramatic salute.

“Oh you’re done now,” Dick warned before lunging towards you.

You yelped as he scooped you up in his arms and turned around to go to the bedroom. He fell backwards on the bed with you still in his hold.

“Dick!” You giggled as you tried to wiggle out of his iron grip.

He flipped you two over with practiced ease, causing you to lie flat on your back under him. You smiled up at him when his fingers came down to your face to brush your hair away so he could see your face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.

“You say that every day,” you scrunched your nose as a wave of shyness washed over you.

“You look pretty every day,” he simply shrugged.

“Stop!” You whined playfully before covering your face with your hands. “I haven’t even washed my face yet it’s puffy and dry.”

“Look at me,” Dick urged and pried your fingers away from your face, pinning both of your hands in his over your head.

You pouted in response when he managed to make you look at him.

“I love you and your puffy face,” he smiled and leaned down enough so your noses were touching but he didn’t kiss you yet. “And your perfect tits,” he murmured and finally kissed you.

You giggled against his mouth as he brought his free hand to your chest to really send his message.

No matter how many years you and Dick spent together and how many ways he fucked you, he still managed to make you blush with one simple look. His blue eyes always looked at you with so much love and relief especially in mornings when he could just be Dick Grayson and stay in bed with you. When he didn’t have to put on a mask.

His tongue glided against your bottom lip before let his teeth bite lightly at your mouth, causing you to moan and squirm in his hold. His hips came down to hold you still and you realised your panties and Dick’s towel were the only things separating you both.

He pulled away and trailed his lips down to your jaw, slowly kissing over the marks he left last night as if to revisit them. Your shirt was swiftly pulled over your head by the hem as Dick sat back on his knees to admire your bare body and when a smirk appeared on his lips, you knew he was feeling proud of the love bites and hickeys he left all over and below your chest.

Before Dick could attach his mouth to your breasts, his phone began ringing but he didn’t budge as he began planting hot open mouthed kisses between the valley of your breasts.

“Dick your phone,” you panted.

“Leave it,” he mumbled.

“It could be important,” you reasoned but your fingers tangled themselves in his silky black hair.

“It’s not,” he replied.

A few seconds later his phone finally stopped ringing but Dick’s movements didn’t relent. He kissed a path down to the waistband of your flimsy panties and when he pulled them up by his teeth, the ringing came again.

“Dick!” You said, louder this time and pushed him away to grab his phone from the nightstand. “It’s Jason,” you informed him but he shook his head and continued planting kisses on your thighs.

You rolled your eyes and picked up the call, bringing the phone to your ear. “Hey Jason.”

“Oh hey,” Jason said your name so casually like you picking up Dick’s phone was normal for him. “Just wanted to check in and see Dick is coming to the meeting right?”

“Yeah he is,” you said the same time Dick yelled “No he’s not!”

“Ignore him, he is,” you huffed and tried pushing Dick away again but he didn’t move, still holding on to your calves as he planted stray kisses to your thighs and knees.

“Dude,” Jason said and you put the phone on speaker.

“What?” Dick sighed.

“You’re coming or I’m not going either and then Tim won’t go,” Jason added.

“Fine,” Dick groaned. “I’m leaving in a bit.”

“Good,” Jason replied.

“You just cockblocked me by the way.”

Jason snickered in response before hanging up.

Dick reached for you again but this time you were quicker than him. You stood up from the bed and ran towards the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

“Seriously?” Dick groaned. “Not even a bye kiss?”

You ducked your head out of the bathroom door and gestured for him to come closer with your finger which he obliged and within seconds, he was in front of you.

You quickly gave him a peck and before he could deepen the kiss, you pulled away.

“Bye! Good luck!” You beamed, shutting the door again.

one of my favs ive written so far which was also inspired by a harry fic i read back in like 2019 soo if i find it again i’ll tag it!

likes comments and reblogs appreciated, hope you enjoy <3

[starl1ghtgr4yson]

𝜗ৎ “𝓟𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞.”

part one here

Summary: Jason’s on a sex ban— or quite literally, a complete touch ban!

warnings: whiny, pathetic Jason.

Jason Todd was an absolute idiot, there was no denying that. But he was a very desperate idiot. And he was willing to do anything if it meant you’d touch him again. You see, you’d put him on a complete sex/touch ban for three entire weeks, and well? Jason was not taking it well.

By day twelve of the three-week sentence, the fearsome Red Hood had effectively ceased to exist. In his place was a six-foot-two, two-hundred-and-fifteen-pound disaster who was entirely losing his grip on reality.

Jason didn’t do things by halves. When he was a crime lord, he took over the East End. When he was an Outlaw, he traveled through space and time. And when he was put on a strict ban by the only person who held his entire heart in her hands, he turned into this absolute menace of compliance.

The apartment had never been cleaner. It was, quite frankly, terrifying.

When you walked through the front door after an exhausting shift, you didn't just smell the familiar scent of Gotham rain and Jason’s expensive cologne. You smelled lemon verbena. You smelled freshly bleached tile

You stepped into the kitchen and paused. The countertops were sparkling so intensely they practically caught the light. Every single dish was not only washed, dried, and put away, but the spice rack had been meticulously alphabetized. Even the labels on the canned goods were facing perfectly forward.

And there, standing by the stove, was Jason.

He was wearing a pair of dark sweatpants that hung low on his hips and a tight, sleeveless black compression shirt that showed off every single rigid muscle, and scar, across his broad back. And the sight normally should’ve been enough for you to jump onto him, He was currently plate-stacking three different Tupperware containers of custom-marinated chicken breasts, a batch of freshly roasted vegetables, and a pot of handmade gnocchi.

The moment the lock clicked, Jason didn’t just look up. His entire body snapped to attention. His dark eyes locked onto yours with this frantic, high-alert energy that reminded you of a stray puppy.

He didn't break the rules. His large, heavily calloused hands clamped firmly onto the edge of the kitchen island to physically anchor himself in place, but his broad shoulders slouched instantly into a pathetic, pleading posture.

"Hey," he said. His voice was incredibly rough, a deep, gravelly rumble that sounded completely worn out, like he hadn't slept in a week— which he hasn’t. How could he without your hugs and kisses?. "I made dinner. I made the gnocchi from scratch. The way your grandma does it, with the potato-to-flour ratio you like. And I prepped your lunches for the next four days."

You set your bag down, looking at the sheer volume of food, then at the pristine kitchen. "Jason... did you scrub the baseboards?"

"Yes," he blurted out, shifting his weight from one heavy foot to the other, his eyes tracking your every movement with an agonizing level of pining. "And I ran the vacuum over the carpet three times to get the lines perfectly straight. And I picked up Lily’s toys and sanitized every single block with baby-safe wipes so she doesn't ingest any rogue bacteria. I did it all."

"Wow," you murmured, leaning against the counter. "You've been busy."

"I'm losing my mind," Jason confessed, his voice dropping into a soft, intensely whiny pitch that would have shocked anyone who had ever seen him pull a trigger. He let go of the counter, taking one agonizingly slow step toward you, but stopping exactly two feet away to respect the boundary. He looked down at you from under his dark lashes, his jaw tight, his white streak of hair falling messily across his forehead. "Babe. Sweetheart. Light of my life. Look at me. I am literally vibrating. I haven't slept in forty-eight hours because every time I close my eyes, I just think about how I'm not allowed to hold you."

"It's only been twelve days, Jay," you teased, crossing your arms and fighting the massive smirk tugging at your lips.

"Twelve days is two hundred and eighty-eight hours!" Jason groaned, a loud, muffled sound of pure misery escaping his throat as he dropped his head back to stare at the ceiling. "Do you know what I did last night? On patrol? I didn't even break any noses. A guy tried to mug a tourist in an alley, and instead of hurting him I settled on throwing him into a dumpster. I'm broken. You've broken the Red Hood."

He dropped his gaze back to you, his chest rising and falling in a heavy, desperate exhale. He slowly sunk downward, dropping his massive, muscular frame right onto his knees on your kitchen tile. He looked up at you from the floor, his hands resting on his own thighs, completely and utterly humbled.

"Please," Jason pleaded, his gravelly voice cracking slightly as he looked up at you with wide, desperate eyes. "Look at me. I'm on my knees. I'm saying the words. I'll be a good boy, sweetheart. I swear to God, I'll be the best boy you’ve ever had. I’ll never let Roy inside a three-block radius of this building again. I’ll make him sign a legal waiver. I’ll personally rewrite Lily’s vocabulary list. I will literally do anything.”

You looked down at him, your heart melting just a little bit at the sheer, unadulterated absurdity of Gotham’s most dangerous vigilante begging for his life on your kitchen floor.

"Are you begging, Jason Todd?" you murmured, stepping half an inch closer.

"Yes! Yes, I am absolutely begging, I have zero shame left," he whispered frantically, his dark eyes instantly tracking your movement, glowing with a sudden, fierce spark of hope. He leaned forward slightly, though he kept his hands firmly on his knees. "I don't even need the whole thing. Just a deal. Let me negotiate. A partial payout. Five minutes of cuddles on the couch. You don't even have to move. I will just lie there like a giant, silent weighted blanket. I won't use my hands. I'll tuck them under my chest. Just let me smell your hair, babe. Please."

"Just cuddles?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"A kiss," he corrected instantly, his voice taking on a thick, desperate edge as he looked at your lips. "One kiss. Short. Sweet. Clean. Well, maybe not entirely clean, but just *something*. My lips are falling off, sweetheart. They’re dying. I'm a dying man."

You let out a soft laugh, finally breaking your resolve. The sight of him on his knees, completely devoted, utterly whiny, and entirely yours was too much to resist. You reached out, your fingers gently sliding into the soft hairs at the nape of his neck.

Jason practically shuddered at the touch, a low, ragged sigh breaking from his chest as he immediately leaned his face into your palm, his eyes closing in pure, unadulterated relief.

"Alright," you whispered, running your thumb over his sharp jawline. "The ban is suspended. Just for tonight."

Jason didn't even wait for you to finish the sentence. He surged up from the floor, his large, powerful arms instantly wrapping around your waist and lifting you completely off your feet. He pulled you flush against his broad chest, burying his face into the crook of your neck with a deep, shaky inhale.

"Oh, thank God," he mumbled against your skin

He didn't waste a second moving you to the living room, collapsing onto the couch and pulling you down on top of him. He was a man possessed by pure, desperate compliance, his massive frame sinking deep into the cushions until he was completely flat on his back, using his own chest as a platform for you.

"Rules," he breathed out, his voice a rough, scraped-raw whisper against your hair. He immediately tucked both of his massive, scarred hands flat underneath his own chest, pinning them between his body and the sofa cushions. He looked up at you from the pillows, his jaw open slightly, his eyes wide and completely glazed over with absolute devotion. "Look. Hands are away. I’m not moving 'em. See? Good boy."

You couldn't help the soft laugh that bubbled out of you, leaning your weight fully against his chest. Even stripped of his weapons and armor, Jason was a solid wall of muscle, but right now, he felt completely pliable beneath you, his entire body relaxing into a soft, heavy puddle the second your warmth pressed into him.

"Very good boy, Jay," you murmured, tracing a slow line down his cheekbone.

Jason practically whimpered at the touch, his eyes fluttering shut as he tilted his face aggressively into your palm, chasing the friction of your skin like a man dying of thirst. "More," he pleaded, his voice cracking, entirely unbothered by how pathetic he sounded. "Babe, please. Just keep doing that. Left side of my jaw. Right there. Oh, God."

You smiled, leaning down slowly until your lips were just a fraction of an inch away from his. You could feel the frantic, heavy thump of his heart hammering against your ribs, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps. The fearsome Red Hood was completely paralyzed under your gaze, his chest rising and falling beneath you as he waited for permission.

"Can I?" he whispered, his dark eyes snapping open, staring at your mouth with a hunger that was almost frightening, yet he didn't move a single muscle to take it. "Please, sweetheart. Just a little bit. I’ve been so good for you."

"Go ahead, Jay."

The second the words left your mouth, Jason didn't lunge—he just reached up with his face, his lips meeting yours with a soft, trembling reverence that completely dismantled the tough-guy persona. It was a deep, heavy, agonizingly slow kiss, full of the built-up tension of the last twelve days. He drank you in like oxygen, a low, needy vibration rumbling deep in his chest as his lips parted against yours, begging for more without his hands ever leaving their pinned position beneath him.

Hunhbknhjnkk oh my goodness this man he’s so fine wtf

Taglist: @leovaldez0924 @newangelle @pxrcyjcksons @rani1028 @maradcrs @purelypersistenttribe @cecillia-stuff @sarahskywalker-amidala @starrydustedwinter @brucewayneisavirgin @idkwhattosaynowsorry @sexy-sadie-6505 @steadyclarityparadox @fireiyu

[stcrgazerlily]

━━━━━━━ MR. AND MRS. TODD!

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jason todd x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you cannot believe this day is real; the day you’re marrying the love of your life, jason todd.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none, absolute fluff, corny ahhh vows, bruce giving a speech, batcat + dickory crumb(s), brucejason moment, also someone PLEASE lmk if the read more thing works!, 2.3k words

Jason plays with his tie for what feels like the hundredth time. His reflection looks like the picture of calm, but inside he’s a jumble of nerves.

“She can still run away.”

Jason glares at Damian from over his shoulder. “Don’t you have some sword to play with?”

“I am attempting to prepare you for all possible outcomes.”

Before Jason can snap something back, Dick steps in—are his eyes red again? “You're getting married. You're allowed to freak out a little.”

“I’m not.” He deadpans.

Tim has his hands shoved into his pockets. “I've checked everything three times. Nothing's on fire.”

“Right.”

Roy grins. “You’re totally nervous.”

Jason huffs. “You four are the worst groomsmen ever to exist.”

A chorus of protests ensues. While they bicker amongst each other, Jason goes quiet. It still feels surreal to him that, in less than an hour, you’ll become Mrs. Todd. He has more contingency plans than what's deemed sane for today, and yet Jason can’t help feeling nervous because what if? What if somebody barges in? Or there’s a breakout at Arkham? Or whatever else might happen that will ruin today.

He’s spent most of his life waiting for the other shoe to drop. Now that he’s so close to a future with you—he doesn’t want to lose it like all of the other good things he’s ever had.

“Where’s Biz anyway?”

Everyone pauses for a moment, then Roy says, “I think he said he wasn’t going to eat.”

Jason curses.

He knows it’s stupid; there’s less than half an hour left before you two pronounce your vows and get legally married. But. He needed to see you. The sky is blue and the grass is green; it’s another universal truth that your sole presence calms Jason.

He knocks on the door of the room you’re in. Hands in his pockets, still as a rock.

Steph pokes out her head. “You can’t see the bride just yet. So, shoo!” She motions with her hand for him to leave.

“I need to talk with her.”

Steph’s eyes soften and she lets out an over-exaggerated sigh. “You are literally the most dramatic groom I've ever met.”

She then shuts the door in Jason’s face. Wow, rude.

There’s chattering inside, a few noises of protest, but slowly all of the bridesmaids trickle out. Before Jason can step in, you take hold of the door.

“You can’t see me yet, it’s a surprise.”

He slumps against the door. “Mhm. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then you sound closer—you must be in the same position he’s in. “Hey, Jay?”

“Yes, princess?”

“Do you… do you feel slightly nervous?” Before he can answer, you continue. “It’s not like a bad nervous, it’s like a… rollercoaster. Yeah, that’s it!”

“You’re comparing our marriage to a rollercoaster?”

You laugh. “It’s those same nerves, exciting but you still have a funny feeling in your stomach.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” He pauses. “I had to get out of there. It’s just—I want today to be perfect. You deserve nothing less.”

“You bastard.” There’s a sniffle on the other side. “You can’t ruin my makeup before the pictures are taken.”

Jason widens his eyes in panic, almost getting up and barging in. He cannot handle it when you cry. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“Because I love you so much.”

His shoulders slump; what a relief. “I love you too.”

“I don’t need today to be perfect, just by being with you it already is.”

Jason grins, head tilted against the wall. “You’re not getting rid of me now.”

It’s only Jason and the wedding officiant in the room. It’s a beautiful room, with a massive marble fireplace, wooden floors, details on the walls and columns. There’s a large window at the back that shows the sprawling gardens of the estate. To the side, a mahogany desk with all of the paperwork and pens for everyone to sign.

The light trickles in and hits Jason on the face, but he doesn’t blink once, completely absorbed by the still-closed door.

Then it does, with a light click. Jason’s world tilts.

Jason is not a religious man, but he knows an angel when he sees one. You look absolutely stunning; he swears his heart stops.

He picks at the collar of his suit. “Yeah— that’s not fair.”

You laugh and walk over to him at the window. Your fingers gently readjust his collar. “You look stunning, Mr. Todd.”

He can’t help the expression of pure adoration that is written all over his face.

“Shall we begin?” the officiant says.

You nod and release Jason’s collar. To be honest, Jason doesn’t hear a single word of what the officiant is saying—he's too busy looking at you.

“I do,” he manages to say.

And then, “I do.”

“You’re now husband and wife.” The man smiles at the two of you. “Now for the personal vows.”

Jason slips a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket. It’s been touched and folded far too many times. He actually doesn’t need it; he knows the speech by heart, but still.

“I never thought I'd be standing here.” He looks at the floor for a second before locking eyes with yours. “Not because I didn't believe in love or anything. I just never thought I'd be lucky enough to keep it. I've spent most of my life fighting; fighting to survive, fighting to be understood, fighting against the parts of myself I wish I could leave behind. Then you came along, and for the first time, being with someone didn't feel like another battle.”

Small tears are already blossoming in your eyes, a lonely tear or two falling down the slope of your cheek, and you’re fighting a smile.

“You saw me at my worst and stayed. You saw the anger, the scars, the mistakes, the things that keep me awake at night—and somehow, you loved me anyway. I don't know if I'll ever deserve that. What I do know is that every morning I wake up beside you, I'll spend the rest of my life trying. I promise to be honest with you, even when it's difficult. I promise to trust you with the pieces of myself I've always kept hidden. I promise to stand beside you when life is easy and when it isn't. I promise that no matter what happens, you'll never face it alone.

“I can't promise perfection. You know better than anyone that I'm far from perfect.”

Jason is not even hesitant; he delivers his words like gospel—a mix of unwavering security and blind faith.

“But I can promise this: you will always have my heart, my loyalty, and a home with me. And if the world ever comes for you, it'll have to go through me first. I love you. Today, tomorrow, and every day I have left. And I choose you. Every single time.”

Tears are freely falling from your eyes, and he’s quick to wipe them away. You let out a small laugh and start yours.

“Jason,” you let out a small laugh and shoot him a pointed stare. “You can’t laugh.”

Jason’s eyes are absolutely soft. His entire body is relaxed, and you’re sure he doesn’t realize he’s inching closer. “Wouldn’t dare to.” You take a breath. “People see your strength first. They see the confidence, the stubbornness, the way you walk into every room like you're ready to challenge the world. But that's not the man I fell in love with. I fell in love with the man who cares so deeply it hurts.” You smile, getting emotional again. “I mean, remember when we met?”

Jason smiles.

“I fell for the man who would give everything he has for the people he loves. The man who pretends he doesn't need anyone, but reaches for my hand when he thinks no one is looking. You have the biggest heart of anyone I've ever known. And it is the greatest privilege of my life to be trusted with it. I promise to love every version of you: the fearless one, the angry one, the gentle one, the kind one. And the one who is still learning that he doesn't have to carry everything by himself. I promise to remind you that you are worthy of love on the days you forget. I promise to laugh with you, argue with you, grow with you, and stand beside you through every chapter of our lives. I promise to be your peace when the world becomes too loud.

“Your partner when the road gets hard. And your home, wherever we are. You once told me that trust doesn't come easily to you. So thank you for trusting me. I choose you too, in the good and bad days, no matter what happens because, Jason, I love you. With my whole soul.”

Jason says nothing for a second, a thousand thoughts and feelings crossing his face. You instinctively brush one of his hairs away from his forehead; he closes his eyes briefly. Moves closer, his hands gravitating to your waist to kiss you—

The officiant coughs, and even he looks moved, but he snaps out of it and redirects the two of you to the table. “We need the two witnesses now.”

Roy and Dick are there in less than a second, eagerly picking up the pens and signing. You and Jason do too—you even share the same blue ballpoint.

The officiant reads over the document, making sure nothing is amiss. “Perfect. You’re now legally husband and wife.” He smiles. “Congratulations to both of you.”

Jason captures your mouth. The kiss is both sweet and hungry, and by the time you two remember that you can’t kiss for eternity, he smiles, forehead pressed to yours. “I love you, Mrs. Todd.”

You kiss him again. “I love you too, Mr. Todd.”

The wedding is perfect. Or rather, it’s perfect because Jason is there enjoying it by your side.

There’s dancing and drinking, laughter and cheering, and the constant congratulations! The muscles of your face hurt from how much you’re smiling, but you won’t stop.

Time moves far too quickly, and you’re caught in a dream you don’t want to wake up from. You see the world through a sparkling filter; everything is bright and good, and what could ever go wrong if you and Jason are together? Then comes Bruce’s speech.

He stands up, perfectly poised and straight. Beside him, Selina is looking up at him with a look of pure love. She squeezes his arm, and he gives her a small private smile.

“I’m not fond of speeches. Most of you know that. Yet somehow my children keep finding reasons to put me in situations where public speaking is expected. Tonight is no exception.”

There’s a small ripple of laughter.

“When Jason was young, there was never a quiet moment. He was curious about everything, stubborn about everything, and absolutely convinced he knew better than everyone around him. Some things never change.”

Some more laughter, and you lean against your husband’s arm—you’ll never get sick of saying that. He presses a kiss to your hair, eyes slowly moving from you to Bruce.

“What has changed is the man he's become.” Jason suddenly finds the tablecloth really interesting. “People see Jason's strength first. His determination. His ability to keep moving forward no matter what stands in his way. What I've always admired most is his heart. Jason cares deeply. Sometimes more deeply than is good for him. He loves fiercely. He protects fiercely. And when someone earns a place in his life, he never stops fighting for them. That has always been true.

“Today, I watched him look at the woman he loves, and I realized something. For a very long time, Jason spent his life surviving. Now he's building one with this lovely woman by his side.”

He looks at the two of you, smiling at you first— it’s not wide, but it’s honest— then settling on Jason.

“And there is nothing I could be more proud of. To my new daughter—thank you. For standing beside him and seeing the good in him that has always been there. And to Jason—there is very little left for me to teach you. But if I can offer one piece of advice, it's this: the people we love are not burdens we carry. They are gifts. Cherish this one every day.”

He raises his flute of champagne, and the rest of the guests follow.

“Congratulations. I love you. And I'm proud of you. To the happy couple.”

Dick starts crying immediately, Roy pretends he isn't emotional while actively crying into his drink, and Damian acts disgusted by the display while secretly recording it.

Those are just a few of the reactions Jason catches before raising his glass to Bruce and then slowly drinking. Things are not perfect between them—they may or may not ever be—but this, this is progress.

The cake comes next; exactly like the one on your Pinterest board, made from a mix of yours and Jason’s favorite flavors. You cut it together, but the moment the knife is away, you sink your fingers into it and smash it all over his face.

Everything stops for a second, and then Jason is laughing. Bright and loud, before he takes another piece and does the same thing to you, aiming for your mouth instead (he doesn’t want to ruin your makeup).

The world fades away when you and Jason have your first dance together. Your head is pressed to his chest. Looking up, you find he’s already looking at you before making you spin. You giggle and pull him down for another kiss (Damian pretends to be disgusted in the crowd).

The dancers come onto the floor; Roy and Lian, Kory and Dick, Damian and you (though he claims he does not dance but does so anyway), Bruce and Selina, Artemis and Jason at some point…

Jason and you end up exhausted, tipsy, and drunk on your love for each other. Buzzing with excitement for the honeymoon.

Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Todd!

[honeysucklewatr]

worship like sunday morning

soft smut | domestic life w’ jason | fluffy

waking up to find jason asleep on top of you. part of you feels bad cause he’s tired. but mostly he just wants to keep you in bed, with whatever necessary method.

it’s past noon when you wake up to jason laying with his head on your chest. his face literally buried between your breasts like it’s a pillow. snoring softly as though completely content.

you probably wouldn’t have woke up if it hadn’t been for the blinds being open because his weight over you just felt like a blanket. warm and inviting. his suit still on him like he just collapsed here somehow and his huge arms resting beside your head. watching the rise and fall of his back since his chest was to your stomach and the soft ruffle of his hair, you smile to yourself.

when you finally try to get up, he’s not budging even a smidge. if anything, he seems to get heavier, and he doesn’t make a sound still completely asleep. but you know he sleeps at odd hours and lord knows when he got home and collapsed on your sleep-ridden form.

fine, you think to yourself, i’ll give him another ten minutes.

though ten turns into twenty and now it’s 1pm. you shake him a little harder and groan out his name.

“jason, get up. you’re crushing me.”

he mumbles something against your chest and rubs his face there before turns it to the side. hands spanning around your waist to keep you from squirming further.

you groan a little louder and laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. “half the day is gone and you’re here suffocating me.”

that’s when he lifts his head to look at you. sleep heavy on his eyelids and a soft pink to his cheeks from pressing his face to the fabric of your clothes. the soft imprint of your ribbed shirt against his skin.

“you aren’t suffocating if you can talk ma.”

squinting down at his stupidly attractive face, you shake your head, “don’t be a smartass.” suddenly able to see the drool he left on your shirt you grimace with no malice. “ugh you got spit all over me you gremlin.”

he laughs aloud and pinches your side to make you jolt. “what this? it’s just drool.”

“same shit as spit.”

then he smiles, “no, spit is when i’m intentionally doing it. drool is mindless. see, i just love your tits even in my sleep.”

he leans over and bites you through your shirt. since you don’t wear a bra to sleep, you feel the press of his teeth completely and it makes you jolt and gasp again. you shove at his head and he just catches your wrists, still smiling at you.

the domesticated annoyance melts into something even more tender as his eyes seem to sparkle up at you. like he’s drinking in the sight of you like this but not consciously doing it. as though he could burn this memory into his soul and not flinch when his flesh form remembers.

you feel yourself fall into him when he raises your shirt over his head and ducks underneath.

“what’re you doing?” giggling as he presses wet kisses onto your abdomen. taking small bites enough to leave a little indent but not to break skin.

“shh it’s sunday baby.” he coos, “this is worship time.”

you’re still laughing and he’s making it up the valley of your breasts, bringing a hand under your shirt too. he gropes one of your breasts while the other takes familiarity in his mouth. suckling and moaning as though this was the best thing to ever happen to him. a laugh turns into a moan before you can stop it.

“shit— jay, i gotta study, come on.” you sigh but you really didn’t want him to move.

luckily he doesn’t because you don’t seem to stop him. he pulls your shirt up higher as higher until it comes off from over your head. unable to help it, your hands go into his hair and hold him there, humming as he groans against your skin. your back arches off the mattress and he decidedly perches you up a little higher with his hand slithering up your spine, stopping between your shoulders blades. bringing your chest closer to his mouth by pressing you right into him. he moans egregiously and sucks in pulses, making the most delicious pressure. he takes the opportunity to bite the flesh again. leaving teeth marks on your breast beside the reddish purple marks that were already forming.

he was purposefully giving you hickeys.

breathing through your teeth as you feel the graze of teeth a little harder, biting down and tonguing at you at the same time. when you tug at his hair, that’s enough for him to moan at the feeling and he looks up at you again, gauging your reaction.

when you finally get a look at your chest, it looked like you’d been punched by a bunch of little fists. shades of the galaxy—purple and blues with hints of red surfacing. you scoff and look at him. jason looks entirely sorry, his bottom lip sideways and his brows pressed low.

“oopsies baby i just meant to put a couple on there—”

you cut him off, “just a couple? i look like i’ve been beat up. oh my god, someone is gonna think i got jumped.”

he blinks and his expression falls, “who else sees your boobs?”

“no one?” you shove him but he just falls back ontop of you as if his bottom half wasn’t already slotted between your legs. regardless of what you’d just said, he’s still nuzzling into your skin like none of it mattered.

“good then. it’s my canvas.” he hums as he settles on the plush part in contentment. “five more minutes.”

you sigh, “three.”

“ten. and i’ll make you pancakes.”

pretending to think as your hands find their way into the hair at the nape of his neck again, he makes a small sound of approval. you use it to coax him more.

“eight and you have to make coffee too.”

he lifts his head so he’s face to face with you and squints before he pecks your lips. “i was gonna do that anyways.”

just as quickly as he got up, he settled back into the position he’s kept you in. though sleep tugged at you as the lazy sunday took full effect on more than just jason. and even though you debated him on how long you’d stay pliant under him, you both knew you could stay there forever.

bored and thinking of jason todd.

[thbbie]

suggestive — post orgasm fluff w jason todd

the air in your shared room is still warm and thick as you both come down. jason collapses to your side, his sweat slicked chest rising and falling with each heavy breath and you can almost feel yours becoming short again.

there's a pretty smile spread on his lips and a soft dusting of rouge on the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose when he turns to look at you, dark curls framing his his face. "hi you"

a smile, toothy and sweet, mirroring his own breaks out on your lips, "hi jason" he looks to be glowing, soft around the edges and your heart can't help but fill with fondness.

gentle heat radiates from your flushed skin while exhaustion pulls at your eyelids making them feel too heavy to hold open. he turns to lay on his side, one hand tucked under his head as the other traces along your arm in a feather light touch. it's quite for some time. both of you content in laying together in comfortable silence when a question forms in the back of your mind and travels down to sit on the edge of your tongue, itching to be asked —

"what's your favourite part of my body?"

jason raises an eyebrow, an expression between a deadpan and genuine confusion on his face (or perhaps it was concern that he failed to make you feel just how dear to him all of you was just a few comments earlier.) kissed bitten lips part to answer your question with an answer but you quickly cut him off with a short playful roll of your eyes.

"i know you like my body jason. clearly" taking a moment to gesture to the blooming hickies and faint bite marks that adorn you, "that wasn't the question"

it takes a second for jason to respond, the question (and reassurance of your satisfaction) settling. jason was quick and witty and often sharp tongued with others, but with you he always took a moment. as if to savour each word you offer him, and to allow himself a chance at stringing together an adequate response.

shifting his body, jason positions himself on the arm that had been tucked beneath his head leaning his weight on it while the other takes your left hand, pressing a kiss to your palm before sliding his fingers along it to interlock with yours. "i like your hands." he says it simply, eyes locked on onto your heavy lidded ones and almost immediately you feel much more awake.

he descends, pressing another kiss that lingers a little longer to your hips and making his way up wards. "i like your hips. i like this soft part of your tummy." his lips brushing the plump skin below your navel. warm kisses climb higher up your body, and he presses a kiss below your chest where the soft flesh meets your ribs. "i like you here," you can feel a smile forming, mischievous. his tongue peeks out, licking a short stripe before continuing, "especially after a long day before you get to shower and you smell fucking delici-"

your free hand threads through soft curls in attempt to tug him away. "jason stop. ew" there is no urgency in your voice. he take your other wrist in the same hand, shadow of his grin lingering in his lips as he's pressing a kiss to your pulse point, "i like your wrists too"

butterflies erupt in your stomach, your drowsiness long forgotten. "okay! thank you jason that's- thats enough" you hope your face doesn't look as hot as it feels.

"mm, i don't think so. i'm not close to being done with you sweetheart. just like that — lay back for me. let me show you the rest of my favourite parts of you "

[msgorillagripcoochie]

the ones i love

pairing(s): jason todd x fem!reader

summary: you go all wanda maximoff and take over gotham after jason's death and the only one who can stop you is well...jason.

warning(s): just rotten fucking angst and crying, also bruce is being kind of a dick and this takes place on a rooftop im not sure if i state that in the fic and this is unedited.

© msgorillagripcoochie , do not steal, post on third party sites or translate my work

"You need to stop this." Dick spoke standing a few feet away from you. "Why should I?" You asked "What has Gotham ever done for me!"

"Y/N c'mon" Dick breathed out standing a few feet away from you, Dick wished he had grasped it before, the way you had been struggling to handle what happened to Jason. Maybe if he had helped you wouldn't have gone so far.

"You're hurting people."

"Well people hurt me!" You shouted "All people have done is hurt me!" You sniffled wiping your eyes before tears could spill "I know, I know." Dick moved towards you "But you're my best friend Y/N, you're better than this." He took your hands in his "You deserve better than this."

You looked down tears leaking from your eyes and you wanted to take it back just for Dick but you couldn't, he didn't understand how much you needed this, how much was riding on this for you.

"I can't"

"You can." Dick whispered.

"I can't let him go." You shook your head your tears evident in the dim light of the night "You don't have to."

The voice made you freeze, your hands shook as you turned your head and you recognized the voice but you didn't want to believe. You pulled your hands away from Dick's as the person came out of the shadows, he stood there a red helmet on his head.

"Hey sweetheart." His voice was shaky like he was struggling with this too but you couldn't believe it was him.

It couldn't be.

They were tricking you, they were using someone or something just to get you to give up...right?

"This isn't real." You whimpered tears slipping from your eyes, he took a step towards you but you took a step back "You're tricking me." You hiccuped looking at Dick.

"Would I ever lie to you?" Dick asked and you knew he wouldn't, Dick was your friend.

You turned back to the man in front of you.

You watched his hands reach up to his face and slowly he took his helmet off. You let out a soft gasp bringing your hand up to your mouth, it looked just like him, was it him? "It's me." He shrugged almost reading your mind, Jason was always good at that.

"Jay." You breathed and for a moment you didn't care if it was fake, if this was some delusional you'd wake up from. You needed this, your shaky hands reached for him and he stepped towards you letting you hold his face in your hands.

Your fingers traced against his skin, tracing his rough skin.

You closed your eyes feeling him for a moment and you couldn't stop crying once you had fully started. You dropped your hands "Is it really you?"

"It is" You jumped at the sound of Bruce's voice, he was now on the roof with you. "You have what you want now stop, you've hurt too many people."

You took a step back and Jason saw it, he knew you and he knew you wouldn't respond well to the way Bruce was approaching you. "Y/N" Jason tried.

"Let everyone go Y/N!" Bruce yelled at you and you flinched suddenly feeling like a little girl getting yelled at by your mom again for not sweeping the floor correctly. "Stop" Dick told Bruce "We had it handled."

"Handled, none of this has been handled, she's become a monster."

"Leave her alone!" Jason shouted.

You wiped your eyes "I'm not a monster, I'm not a monster" You shook your head quickly not trusting this. "You just want to lock me away, this isn't real is it?" You placed your hand over your ears and you just wanted it to go away.

"Hey, hey look at me we know you're not a monster baby" Jason reached out but you flinched away from his touch "We know you didn't mean for any of this to happen but I'm here now, you have to let everyone go" He told you, his voice almost soothing "This isn't who you are."

Bruce went to speak again but this time Dick didn't let him "Go, you'll need to help them when she let's them go." Bruce stopped for a moment "But if anything goes wrong-"

"It won't." Bruce nodded before leaving.

This time when Jason went to touch you, you let him as he held your chin in his hands forcing you to look at him "I need you to come back to me sweetheart."

"He's gonna send me away, just like mom did." You whimpered "No, no I won't let him, no one is going to hurt you. It'll just be you and me just like you want, just like I want." He held you just like he used to and you closed your eyes just listening "I just need you to come back to me."

It was silent for a second, just him holding you "Okay." You nodded and he smiled that same smile that made you fall in love with him "Will you still be here?"

"What do you mean?"

"When I take down the hex will you still be here?" He realized that still you weren't sure if he was real or not "Yeah, I'll be here" he pressed a soft kiss to your lips and sure it tasted salty from your tears but it was enough.

"I love you Jason" you whispered just in case he was lying, just in case he'd go with everything else.

"I love you too."

a/n: thank you so much for reading pls tell me what you think and if you enjoyed it. feel free to request!

[ems-typewriter]

Lacy, oh, Lacy

pairing: dick grayson x reader

summary: when reader see's their boyfriend talking with an ex, they can't help but feel unworthy in comparison

word count: 1.5k

warning/tags: sfw, fem!reader, angst, comfort, no y/n, inner thoughts of insecurity and comparison, mentions of throwing up, mentions of alcohol, based off lacy by olivia rodrigo, use of pet names

When Dick brought up going with him to the bar and the others, you thought he was talking the usual Jason, Tim, Steph, and sometimes Cass. However, when you got to the bar and practically everyone you passed, Dick was greeting with his golden boy smile, you realized you were severely mistaken.

Left and right you were learning new names and then promptly forgetting them as you were introduced to the next person wanting to talk to Dick. You found yourself wishing that you'd made an excuse to stay home so you wouldn't be subjected to this headache inducing small talk. Dick was eventually pulled away by Wally so they could catch up, leaving you with a lingering kiss on your temple and a promise to be back soon.

That was 45 minutes ago. You’ve watched from the background at the bar top as he was pulled from person to person to chat. Something about his demeanor has stopped you from walking to his side, and instead choosing to admire him from afar. His smile isn't dimmed from looming worries of the next criminal to overtake the streets, his shoulders aren't burdened with the weight of every problem he believes he can fix, and his eyes shine in a way that makes you want to offer him this reprieve every night. 

You take a sip of your cocktail that tastes more like water after sitting untouched for so long. Just as you're about to make your way back to your social butterfly of a boyfriend, you're stopped by the sight of a woman, seemingly made of angel dust, walking toward him. Watching the scene play out in front of you makes the little bit of alcohol you had churn in your stomach, because she is easily recognizable from the bit of internet stalking you did after first meeting Dick. 

Dick had told you about his previous girlfriends, but never in detail, because like he said “they're in the past, and you are my forever.” You never minded that he had dated around before meeting you, until this moment, because no online post could have prepared you for the jaw dropping literal alien space princess that pulls him into a hug. Nothing about it seems flirty, but that's not the reason you can't pull your eyes away from the scene, it's because you can't help but compare yourself to her. 

Kori holds herself with a confidence you've never felt before and you imagine she would understand parts of Dick that you probably never will because she fights crime. She understands making the tough decision or the exhaustion that you've seen run bone deep when Dick comes back from a long patrol that you'll never be able to relate to as a barista. 

Time continues ticking, your heart continues beating, they continue laughing, but you feel anchored to this seat by your own mind. Your head is a minefield of insecurities and you keep stepping on every hidden pressure plate. 

Maybe you're not enough for him and he needs someone more like him. Someone who catches everyone's attention when they walk into a room. Someone who can handle themselves and doesn't complain about a stressful day working at a coffee shop when that's nothing compared to what he does. Maybe he needs someone who–

Your train of thought is cut off by the familiar feeling of bile rising in your throat. You quickly stand, taking the back exit of the bar, before hunching over and spilling the contents of your stomach in the darkened alleyway. You try to convince yourself that you don't care. She seems like the better choice, but oh, you care so deeply. 

Standing back up to full height, you press your back against the cool brick of the alley way and let the wind whip against your cheeks to calm you. You didn't even realize you had closed your eyes till you felt a warm hand sneak up your waist and the familiar spiced citrus scent envelop your nose. 

“Hey, baby,” he pushes some of the slightly sweaty strands of hair from your face, “you sick?”

“No, no, I’m fine.” 

“You didn't look fine when you ran out of the bar and you don't look fine now.”

“I didn't run out.”

“Don’t change the subject.” You finally force your eyes open coming face to face with his gaze scanning you over trying to find what's wrong. Worry lingers on every feature of his face, “Did you drink too much?”

“Yeah, just a little.” You lie straight to his face. How are you supposed to admit you were basically worshipping his ex in your head and convincing yourself he wouldn't want someone who doesn't compare to everything that Kori is? “You should go back, seriously, I’m fine.”

He runs his thumb across the bridge of your nose while speaking, “You know whenever you lie, your nose wrinkles slightly.”

“What? No it doesn't." 

“Baby, I’ve learned everything about you, including your ticks for when you lie.” He takes a breath as his thumb strokes your cheekbone, “I can't fix it if you don't tell me what's wrong.”

You stare up at him and see the genuine fear in his eyes that you're shutting him out and he can’t do anything about it. Dick is a fixer–always trying to find a way to seamlessly put everything back together, especially for you. “I worry that I’m not good enough for you.” 

His eyebrow furrows slightly, a frown tugs his lips down slightly, and his grip on your waist becomes slightly tighter. “What are you talking about? Of course you're enough for me–you’re more than enough for me, baby.”

“But I'm not! I’m not some goddess space alien princess and I'm not some vigilante who's gonna understand what it's like to go out there every night and protect people. I don’t–”

“Is this about Kori?” He asks to cut you off from your ramblings.

“No? Yes? I don't know.” You cover your face with your hands, your words muffled through them, “Your friends with vigilantes that kids look up to and have action figures of, while I make people's coffee for a living. I don't know how to take down the next bad guy, or know how to hack into mainframes, or even do a pull up. How could I ever stand out next to people like that?”

His touch is gentle as he pulls your wrists away from your face and then cups your cheeks. “You stand out because you don't do that. You think I want you to be a vigilante? I don't. I don't want you to experience how I feel when I come home. I don't want you to run towards the danger I do. I don't want to know the feeling of you getting a life threatening injury and me being utterly unable to save you.” He shakes his head, “I don't want you to be like them, because I know what each of them have been through because of what they do, and I would never want you to go through that.”

“But–”

“No, I’m not done.” He shakes his head, “You are the thing I look forward to at the end of the day because I know when I have you in my arms, I'm done fighting. I don't have to cater to everyone's needs, I don't have to worry about getting shot or stabbed or punched, instead I get to breathe. I didn't get to do that before I met you. Not with Kori, not with Barbara, but you.”

Your breath catches in your throat, making it impossible to speak, but even if you could, you don't know what you’d say. Thankfully you don't have to, because he starts talking again. 

“I love you for all those extraordinary things you see as just ordinary because to me, everyone in that bar is dull in comparison to everything you bring into my life.”

You wrap your arms around his neck which he immediately responds to by pulling you closer to his warmth and pressing his forehead to your shoulder. You didn't realize how much you needed to hear his words until he was spilling his guts to you.

“I’m sorry.”

“Dont apologize, just dont let these thoughts fester in that pretty little head of yours. You will always be the only one I want.”

When you look up at him, you realize how insignificant those thoughts were, because he's staring down at you like you personally hung the moon in the sky just for him. Like you are the only person he’d want in a room full of extraordinary people. 

A/N: was only listening to sad olivia while writing this. always remember no matter what you or anyone says about you, you are more than enough. be kind to yourself, because the world is harsh enough as it is <3

[bloomcissa]

Mirrorball!

pairing roy harper x batsis!reader

summary Your brother’s best friend finds you drunk

content 1.6k words, hurt/comfort, fluff, love confessions

Your phone was ringing on the counter of the bar, and you glared daggers at it. One would think being the daughter of Bruce Wayne meant you could have any man you wanted. Apparently, your brother’s best friend didn’t count.

How many nights had you stayed up thinking of Roy Harper and wishing he was yours? You had always loved yearning in books, inhaling it like a drug. Yet tonight, you drowned every inch of yourself that wanted him in alcohol.

You watched as your phone sprang to life for the fourth time that day, the familiar name of the devastatingly handsome redhead popping onto your screen.

You huffed and picked it up.

“What,” you answered, the alcohol making it hard to conceal your frustration.

He said your name gently, making you want to cry and scream at him. Couldn’t he tell how much you wanted him?

“Tell me where you are—”

“That’d be none’a your business,” your words slurred together.

“Look, Jay’s out on a mission, and he told me to keep an eye on you. You’re slurring your words, you’re not home… just let me come get you.” His voice was strained as he spoke. You briefly wondered what he sounded like in bed.

“M’ perfectly fine,” you mumbled petulantly.

You heard him sigh from the other side of the line.

“Sweetheart, please?” he tried again.

You froze. Curse him for knowing how to get you to listen.

“Fine…” you muttered and rattled off your address. Your face flushed, and you were ashamed that all it took was his soft voice and a pet name to get you to back down.

You hung up on him without saying goodbye and looked longingly at the patrons who were drinking. You silently cursed the bartender for cutting you off.

Your forehead hit the cold bar table, and you groaned, thoughts of Roy swirling around with jealousy and bitter resignation.

After a while, you felt a warm hand on your back.

“So, is the troublemaker still alive? Or did the booze finally win?” You felt his breath against your ear before you heard his words. You bit your lip and willed your body not to react.

“Undetermined. I’ll let you know tomorrow morning," you grumbled, not lifting your head.

He chuckled, and you scowled at the counter. He gently lifted your head so you were looking at him, his hands on either side of your face.

“You had me worried, y’know. If anything happened to you, Jason’d have my head.”

You tensed. Of course. Of fucking course he was only here because Jason told him to look after his little sister.

“I’m a grown-ass woman,” you stated.

“A grown-ass woman, huh? Decided to get plastered in Gotham with no ride home? Real smart, sweetheart.”

You didn’t reply, too emotionally exhausted and tipsy to throw a glare his way. It was like the longer he touched you, the faster your defenses crumbled.

So instead, you focused on the way he held your face in his hands, like they were finally where they belonged. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch while a burning sensation built in your eyes.

“Hey—woah, shit, are you crying?” His eyes widened, and he let go of your face. His hands hovered over you as if he wasn’t sure how to make you stop.

“No,” you sniffed, looking down, feeling the loss of his touch.

“Fuck… okay. I’m takin’ you home, yeah? I’ll make hot chocolate just the way you like it… with extra marshmallows and everything.” He wiped away your tears and then let his hands drop.

You let out a combination of a cry and a laugh. “Is that what you do to get Lian to stop crying?” your voice wobbled.

His lips curved up at the sound of his daughter's name. “Works every time,” he shrugged, eyes soft toward you.

He placed a hand on your waist and ushered you up. “Come on, let’s get you home safe.”

You let him guide you up. You saw his eyes narrow when he noticed what you were wearing.

“Seriously? You left the house in that? It’s fuckin’ 30 degrees outside, you idiot,” he said, exasperated. He took off his jacket and wordlessly put it around you, then led you out where the cold air bit at your skin.

You just pouted at his words and occasionally stumbled. He caught you every time. And if you tripped on purpose to make him put his arm around you, he didn’t call you out… he just fired off some sarcastic remark instead.

When you got to your apartment, he gently helped you down on the couch. He looked around, grabbed a blanket, and put it over you. You watched him silently, admiring his red hair and the way his muscles flexed as he moved around.

“Gonna go make that hot chocolate I promised. Need anything else?”

You shook your head, not trusting yourself to blurt out how much you loved him. Time had done nothing to lessen the effects of the liquor. But you knew deep down that thought was all you.

Your eyes were trained on him the whole time. You couldn’t look away as he made the drink. An overwhelming emotion clawed through your chest.

You felt that in this moment, he was life itself. That even if nothing else made sense, he always would. Just a glance from him made all those years of knowing him from the sidelines worth it.

He came back with a mug in his hand.

“Thank you,” you whispered and took a sip. The warm liquid instantly made you feel better. No wonder this worked on Lian, you thought.

He sat next to you, leaving enough space so you couldn’t feel his warmth, which did the opposite of calming you down. He was looking at you, though, with more tenderness in his expression than you’d ever seen on him.

You placed the mug on the coffee table.

“Why don’t you love me?” you blurted, your voice cracking almost as much as your heart. You were sick and tired of not knowing. You’d deal with the repercussions in the morning.

You watched as his brows furrowed, mouth slightly agape, as if this was the last thing he expected to hear. You went to look away, but before you could, his hand cupped your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“Don’t… don’t say that. You think I don’t—? God, you have no idea.” He ran his fingers through his hair. You wanted to reach out but instead curled your fingers into his jacket.

Your breath caught at his words. “Roy…?”

He swore under his breath and brought you into his chest, one hand on your back keeping you in place. The other tangled in your soft hair. Your face was pressed against the hard plane of his chest. His heartbeat was unsteady, yet perfectly in sync with your own.

“So fuckin’ loved, y’hear me? That’s what you are,” he muttered against your hair.

You relaxed into him. His warmth seeped into you, chasing away every bitter feeling you’d felt before. You tilted your head up so you could see him. He was looking down at you, pained.

“I’ve watched you, you never look at me—” you started, but he cut you off.

“Nah. I can’t stop lookin’ at you. Even when you’re not around, I still see you, dumbass.”

You stared at him, words stuck in your throat. “Then why…”

He rested his forehead against yours. “Why haven’t I confessed my undying love to you?”

“I can’t fuck it up with you, troublemaker.” His hands went to your waist, then moved down to your hips, bringing you closer.

“You won’t.”

“Yeah? You so sure I won’t?” His lips moved closer to yours.

“Mm-hm, I see you too,” you whispered, and he grinned like it was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard.

“Mind if I kiss you, sweetheart?” he asked, thumb brushing over your pulse point while his hand curled around your neck.

Your eyes met his in a silent plea, and he didn’t waste time bringing you into a kiss. You absentmindedly heard the windows being opened, but you didn’t care. You pulled back for air, and he instantly pulled you back in. His hands roamed over your body, feeling every curve.

A loud thump brought you out of the trance you were in. Roy tensed, and a loud voice tore through the apartment.

“Get your filthy hands off my sister!” You didn’t think you’d ever heard Jason speak so menacingly.

Roy sighed like he already dreaded the hell that was going to go down in the next few days.

“Fuck off, Jay,” you were annoyed he had interrupted the best kiss of your life. You rested your head on Roy’s chest, and he grinned down at you so lovingly that you suddenly didn’t even care Jason was there.

“Wait till I tell Dick—oh, you’re so fucking dead, Harper,” Jason laughed a bit hysterically, pacing around the room.

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. Roy caught your gaze.

I love you, he mouthed to you.

You smiled at him, ignoring Jason as he spewed obscenities at Roy. Because in this moment? All you saw was the man you loved looking down at you with the same love reflected back.

Masterlist

[dynameow]

Hii! Do you know about that one trend where "asking my partner permition to eat" in public or with their parents, now imagine reader doing this to bakugo infront of mitsuki

She would beat up his ass LMAO

PERMISSION ✶ FT. BAKUGOU KATSUKI

── ✶ before you read: 1k words ; fem reader ; established relationship ; mitsuki and masaru are good parents ; katsuki has an aneurysm (almost) ; masterlist.

꒰ commentary ꒱ ✶ ANON YOU ARE TOO FUNNY FOR THIS ASK LMAOOO

“Kats, am I allowed to order a drink, too?” You whisper. “This one seems good. It’s okay if I can’t, though.”

Katsuki stiffens, turning to you in disbelief. The waitress pauses. Mitsuki raises a brow. Masaru looks up from the menu in concern.

“What the fuck do you mean allowed—what…what are you talkin’ about?”

“Am I allowed to get it?” You ask, like it’s a simple question. You give him a confused look before you add, “I don’t want to order too much and then upset you.”

The waitress gives him a look from the corner of her eyes. It’s a nasty look if you’ve ever seen one, and coupled by Mitsuki’s eyes narrowing at her son, you have to fight every bone in your body not to laugh.

“Did your head get knocked loose?” He does a double take. “Why the fuck would I be upset? You…okay, you know what,” he turns to the waitress, already having enough of your antics, and says, “add a large drink to that, please.”

“A large drink, got it,” she nods slowly, jotting it down. “How generous of you.”

You bite your lip when he stares after her incredulously as she walks away. And as soon as the waitress is gone, he has another problem just waiting.

You start, “Thanks for letting me get a drink today—”

“And just what do you mean let?!” Mitsuki cuts in, staring between you and her son.

You blink at her with your best innocent look. (One good thing about making it your lifelong hobby to get under Katsuki’s skin is that you’ve learned you’re very good at the innocent look. Exceedingly good.)

“Well, I mean, I know how he feels about me ordering things, so I just wanted to check that it was okay—”

“Hah!? What the fuck are you talkin’ about?” Katsuki stares. “How do I feel about you ordering things?”

You shrug sheepishly, feigning, to your credit, a very convincingly nervous look. “I just didn’t want to upset you.”

The look on Masaru’s face twists immediately to heartbreak—like he can’t believe his son would turn out this way. Meanwhile, Mitsuki’s eyes narrow into dangerous slits. Katsuki waves a hand gesturing at you in shock as if to ask, are you seeing this? as he stares at his parents helplessly.

“She’s messin’ around, I swear, she always does this—”

“Katsuki.”

“Don’t Katsuki me—I haven’t done anything!”

“You know,” Masaru says carefully, eyeing his son in disappointment, “sometimes people don’t realize they’re behaving a certain way until there are signs. But we have to look at the signs for what they are, son.”

“Dad—”

“No, let me finish.” Masaru holds up a hand. “You’re supposed to be equals in a relationship. If she’s worried about upsetting you over something as simple as ordering a drink, maybe you should ask yourself why she feels that way.”

“Because she’s insane!”

“Katsuki!” Mitsuki hisses, pointing a finger at him as she says, “don’t call her that! The only reason for that is because you’re driving her crazy—look at her! The poor thing! She’s shaking over there, and it’s because of you!”

“She’s not shakin’ for shit! Look—look at her! She’s fighting back a fuckin’ smug little look on her face because she’s—”

Mitsuki suddenly reaches across the table and catches him by the ear. “What have I told you about making girls feel respected, huh? This is why they’ve never liked you! And now one finally does and you’re scaring her off?”

“Ow—you fucking hag!”

She gives his ear a sharp tug. “Language.”

“Ow! Let go, you old—”

You look up innocently, “Please don’t scold him, he’ll be in a bad mood when we get home.”

Mitsuki yanks his ear harder at that, steam practically pouring from her own ears, and Masaru holds a hand to his chin in deep, concerned thought.

“Just what happens at home when it’s just the two of you, huh? Why is she scared about what’ll happen when you’re home?!”

“Nothing! Literally fuckin’ nothing, she terrorizes me at home, if anything! Look with your eyes, you old hag!”

Finally taking mercy on him, you chuckle, reaching over to ruffle Katsuki’s hair. He gives you a nasty side glare, but it softens just a smidge when you lean into his side and kiss his cheek.

“I was only kidding,” you beam at Mitsuki, “I just wanted to make him sweat a bit.”

She looks at you with a cautious gaze, her fingers still tightly wrapped around Katsuki’s poor (and red) earlobe as she asks, “Are you sure you’re not just protecting him?”

“Oh don’t worry,” you hum, patting your boyfriend’s chest as he shakes his head in irritation, “you’d be the first to know if he acts even the slightest bit out of line.”

“I never get a chance to be out of line, cause you’re the bossiest—”

Just then, the waitress arrives with your drinks. She sets yours down first. “Here you go, honey.” Then she places Katsuki’s down. The sour look she gives him could practically curdle milk. “Sir.”

Katsuki stares after her as she walks off, and you giggle as you pinch his cheek affectionately. “We should come back here next week, huh baby?”

“Yeah, if my face isn’t on a wanted poster at the door,” he grumbles under his breath.

You reach over with a cheeky grin, grabbing his drink and taking a sip before taking another from your own glass. After a moment of contemplating, you hum, “I like your drink better. I’m taking it. Here—” you slide him yours as you pull his own glass to your side of the table. “You take that one.”

He turns to his mother and waves a hand. “See?! She terrorizes me!”

“I’m not seeing a problem,” she says, giving him a less than impressed look. “All I’m seeing is a poor girl finally realizing her worth after dealing with your nonsense.”

He slumps into his seat, giving up, and you lean your head onto his shoulder, beaming up at him victoriously as he gives you a tired look. (And, much to your pride, you know are getting very, exceedingly good at getting under Katsuki’s skin—it’s a hobby you’re quite talented at.)

[llovelygood]

Just be sorry || Tim Drake x fem!reader

— You had decided to accompany your fiancé to the gala, but the moment you got there he left you alone. The last straw was when you saw him talking to another woman, who seemed very interested in him.

!!: request by @itssolsticee! hurt/comfort. no use of y/n. fiancé!ceo!Tim. mention of OC. +1.5k words. Not proofread. English is not my first language.

[dc masterlist]

You knew her—well, more like you knew what her name was. Not because Tim had mentioned her—or even bothered to introduce her to you—but because Bruce had told you her name when you noticed your fiancé, standing in one of the room’s corners, talking with the woman.

You had noticed the way her red dress hugged her curves way too tightly, and how the corset pushed her chest improperly upwards for it to be prominent, like an invitation for lustful eyes, a trap for disgusting but rich men. 

You weren’t a jealous person, but there was something in that woman that didn’t sit right with you. The way she kept blinking too much while keeping a smile on her face—not polite, but flirty—and that smile was directly aimed at your very taken fiancé. 

You finished the champagne you had and walked towards the two of them. Your heels clicked on the floor while you moved graciously around the hall. Everyone glanced at you, at least for just one second, except Tim. He didn’t notice your presence until you wrapped your hand around his bicep. 

“Hi! I believe we haven’t been introduced.” You smiled at the woman. Your smile was bright and perfect, too perfect it almost gave away how fake it really was.

“I believe not,” she said, mirroring your exact same smile. “Vivian Maxwell.”

You nodded and told her your name, “I’m sorry, I really don’t want to be rude, but I need to talk to my fiancé for a second.”

“Oh, I didn’t know he was engaged,” She faked being surprised. 

Bullshit, everyone knew about Tim Drake’s engagement to you the second he dropped on one knee; it had been in every headline for a week. It was basically common knowledge by now. 

“Well, now you know. Now, if you'll excuse us.”

Tim gave the woman one last polite smile before following you outside of the hall, into one of the empty balconies, away from the annoying people who were thirsty for gossip. 

“What the fuck was that, Tim?” Your hand left his arm, and he instantly missed your touch.

“What was what?” He asked. Tim Drake, the smartest in his family and a great detective, didn’t know what you were talking about; he was completely oblivious to his partner’s feelings.

“You, talking with her, in a ‘way too friendly’ way,” you said. His eyebrows frowned, but he didn’t say anything. “Tim, I really didn’t want to come here in the first place. You knew I wasn’t feeling well, but I came anyway because I knew this gala was important to you and the business. But the moment we step here, you leave me. You disappear in between these people I don’t know, and later I see you talking to her, who, by the way, was definitely one second away from kissing you right there. Now, don’t tell me you didn’t notice, because I’m not dumb and you aren’t either.”

“I left you so you could sit down and not feel overwhelmed by all the people I needed to talk to, because you weren’t feeling well,” he tried to explain.

Your mouth opened in disbelief. “Is that really your excuse? That you were looking out for me by leaving me alone?” 

“Look, babe, I’m sorry, I thought you needed space-” 

“If I wanted space, I would’ve stayed at home, Tim,” you cut him off. 

To say you were disappointed was not enough. Tim had always been attentive; he had worried about you deeply, and now it was like he didn’t even know you. 

“I’m going home,” you said, leaving Tim there on the balcony, just like he had done with you some hours ago in the hall.

Maybe it was a stupid thing to get mad about, but tonight what you needed was to have your fiancé next to you, and he hadn’t been able to do that simple thing. Instead, he had gone to talk to a woman who was clearly interested in him, and Tim, who clearly saw her intentions, let her continue with her flirtations.  

The moment you arrived home you threw your heels against the shoen rack, not even bothering to leave them properly in their place. Your feet hurt, your head hurt, and you wanted to cry. The interaction between Tim and Vivian still replayed in your mind because, after spending the entire night searching for him, you hadn’t expected to see him with her. You wouldn’t have minded if she had known her place, but it was the stubble touches, her nails tracing pattern against his hand, and, worst of all, Tim not even seeming bothered by her, that pissed you off.

You didn’t want him at home today. You wanted to stay alone, just like you were minutes ago at the gala, but this time because you had chosen it, not because your fiancé had abandoned you. So you picked up your phone and texted Tim.

I hope Bruce can lend you your old room at the manor. Don’t come home today.

Tim knew he had fucked up. Now, seeing everything from your point of view made him feel like a total asshole, and he understood your reaction as well as the messages you had just sent him, but he wasn’t going to leave the argument unfinished. You deserved a proper apology, and, after that, he would go to the manor for the night if that made you feel better.

The second he arrived at your shared apartment, he noticed the entire place’s lights off, except for the warm and dim light of your nightstand peeking through your bedroom’s door. Tim felt horrible after the short argument at the gala, but the second he heard you crying, he felt like a total monster, unworthy of your attention right now. 

He stayed next to the room’s door for a few seconds, hearing your sobs and uneven breaths. He didn’t know how to approach you now. Saying “I’m sorry” was not enough, starting with an explanation was even worse, and just silence was too risky to even try it. But he couldn’t stand there, he needed to do something. 

He took a deep breath and, with a tightness in his chest, he opened the door. You were curled up on your side of your bed, still in the gala’s dress, and with your makeup completely ruined by your tears. The sight of you like that destroyed Tim, he hated himself for making you cry.

“What are you doing here?” You had stopped crying. Your voice was harsh, but the words came out broken. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking careful steps towards the bed. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a total jerk, and you didn’t deserve it.”

You tear your gaze away from his, looking at your hands, playing with your fingers. You couldn’t look at him right now, and Tim understood.

“I really don’t know what else to say. I’ve been stupid, and I know I should’ve said something to Vivian. I shouldn’t have left you alone, and you didn’t deserve a poor excuse back at the balcony.” He sat down on the mattress, keeping some distance from you just in case. “I would be lying if I said that I’m not looking for your forgiveness. But I want you to know that I feel horrible for leaving you alone and mostly for making you cry.”

You finally raised your eyes, connecting with Tim’s. You saw the regret, and the guilt behind them and he noticed the sadness and betrayal in yours. 

“I’m the man you’re going to marry. I’m supposed to make you happy, to make you feel loved and safe and secure. But I’m a total mess when it comes to you.” He couldn’t hold a little smile, and he saw how you fought to hide yours. 

Yes, Tim had always been a disaster when it came to you. You had always made him feel nervous without even trying. He had always tried to do the right thing, and he had always ended up doing the total opposite without noticing. He didn’t even know how he could be engaged to you right now. For him, he really was the lucky one. 

“I just want you to know that I am extremely sorry, and I promise it won’t happen again.” Both of you stayed looking at each other in silence. Tim was waiting for a reaction, while you thought about your fiancé’s words. “I can go and stay the night at the manor if y–”

You cut him off by hugging him. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, and you buried your face in his shoulder. His arms wrapped around your body tightly, pulling you against him. 

Both of you stayed like that for a while, enjoying the feeling of each other. The love, and admiration, and forgiveness the hug brought made you cry again. That was the only thing you had needed, an “I’m sorry” from the man you loved the most.

“I love you,” you mumbled against his shoulder, tightening your hug.

“I love you more,” he answered, kissing your head while his hands caressed your back.

And you knew that he meant it. 

© llovelygood

A/N: guys I swear I'm working on the 500 followers event.

Tim Drake taglist: @farahdrawzz @princesstrunkz @jackiememopad @currentblasphemy @astraeasworld

[dontyouworrydaddy]

pray for me

Jason Todd x gn!Reader

summary: After an argument with Jason you left for a ride just to clear your head. But that ended up with a car crash.

warning: angst, hurt/comfort, car crash, mention of Y/N, injuries mentioned (internal bleeding, orthopedic injuries), surgery mentioned, anxiety, not proof read so I‘m sorry in advance if you see any typos or anything that doesn’t make sense😭

A/N: I hate car crashes. Like wdym the person is fighting for their life while their family are at home thinking they’re safe. A little reminder to always be careful when driving or riding. Just a little distraction can determine your future.

Honestly, you don’t know how exactly the argument started. You remember mentioning to Jason for the nth time to put his helmet in the drawer instead of the kitchen counter and somehow you ended up arguing about everything that’s been pissing you both off.

You didn’t even mean to start an argument. You just mentioned it and Jason just ignored you. After you mentioned it again, it kinda escalated. It was stupid, to be honest. You didn’t mean any harm by that mention but somehow Jason took it the wrong way.

Maybe it was the exhaustion that made Jason tick off. But the longer you argue, the more you feel suffocated.

“I feel like you were just waiting for me to say something so you can just pick up an argument.” you yell at him now. Jason just lets out a laugh and shakes his head.

“Yeah because I have nothing better to do in my life other than arguing with you.” Jason says and points at you.

“Oh so now I‘m the problem or what?” you feel like your body is on fire now. The anger slowly taking over your body as you hold back tears of rage.

“Listen, I‘ve had a long day and I just want to rest.” Jason breaths out while pinching his nose bridge, closing his eyes while doing so.

You felt like you’re going to suffocate and you’re in need of fresh air hitting your face. You don’t respond to Jason anymore. Instead, you turn around and grab your car keys from the counter and put on your shoes. You don’t look back at Jason.

“I‘m going out for fresh air. Don’t call me unless you fixed that rage of yours.” you don’t wait for an answer and just shut the door behind you loudly. You feel the tears leaving your eyes as you get in your car and drive off immediately.

It’s just frustrating how sometimes small things can cause such a massive argument with Jason. You know that he doesn’t mean it but it’s still hurting you sometimes. He tries to fix it and you know it. Because it got a lot less over the time you have been dating. But there are still times where he can easily get angry.

The tears make your vision blurry and you just try to focus on the road. You know you shouldn’t drive while you’re still very angry and crying sobbing. You don’t even hear your surroundings that clearly because your mind is doing a very good job at being louder than your surroundings.

And that was your greatest mistake.

You don’t remember the last turn you took or how long you‘d been driving. Your hands gripped the steering wheel tighter than you realized. Your jaw ached from clenching.

Anger still burned hot in your body but beneath it was something that dragged your chest. Sadness and disappointment. It made you feel everything was distant.

You don’t realize the car passing the opposite lane. The traffic light ahead turned yellow and then red.

But you kept going.

Your mind replaying the words over and over again. Each time twisting them into something worse. A little louder and harsher.

You blinked harder but the sting in your eyes didn’t go away.

Somewhere, distantly, a horn was heard.

The horn came again. Louder this time.

And then…

Impact.

The other car slammed into your car with a crushing weight.

Your body whipped against the seatbelt as it locked hard across your chest, stealing the air from your lungs. The steering wheel jerked in your hands. Glass burst outward in a sharp, scattering light and fragments across your vision.

For a split second, everything slowed down. Everything happened too fast and slow at the same time.

Then motion. Spinning or sliding. You couldn’t tell. The world outside smeared into streaks of color and light, your sense of direction gone completely.

And just as suddenly…

Nothing.

Jason felt his chest tighten at home. He knew he shouldn’t let you just drive off while you’re still angry. He should’ve prevented you from going out.

He called you a few times but you don’t answer your phone. Maybe you’re still mad at him and need a little more time to gather your thoughts and cool off.

But still, Jason can’t stop worrying. You never ignored his phone calls because you know he still cares about you, no matter how mad he is. He will never stop caring or worrying about you. You’re still the Love of his life.

But you’re just too mad at him, right? There is no way something happened to you, right?

Jason can‘t stop pacing around the apartment like an idiot. He is scared. What if something happened to you? Or what if you’re just at your friends place? He feels like he’s going crazy.

He just wants to know if you’re safe.

“Fuck.” he slaps himself. He can only pray to god and hope you’re safe.

Before he can spiral down any further and go insane, his phone rings and he picked up immediately without even looking who is calling.

“Is this Jason Todd?” an unknown voice asks him and he is confused for a second. Who is this?

“Yes, who is this?” he asks.

“You‘re Y/N‘s emergency contact. They’ve been in a car crash and is now at the hospital ca-”

Jason drops his phone from his ear. His legs becoming weak.

And his heart stops beating for a second.

The ten minute ride to the hospital felt like five hours.

God knows how many traffic rules he broke. And only God knows how many cigarettes he just smoked during the ride.

His heart feels too heavy and his mind is cursing him in every way possible. He should’ve known better. He should’ve just picked up this fucking helmet and put it away.

He didn’t know he had any tears left to cry but right now he‘s crying while praying for your safety. He became a religious man right now and all he wants right now is you alive in his arms.

“This is all my fault.” he keeps whispering to himself. He cannot imagine a world without you in it. He doesn’t want to know a world without you. You’re the reason why he started enjoying life again. You gave him a reason to stay alive.

He is pretty sure he parked in a very shitty place but right now he doesn’t care. He sprints into the hospital and everything hits him all at once.

Everything is too bright, too clean and somehow too quiet in all the wrong ways. It felt like the walls were holding their breath.

He pushed through the double doors, heart pounding hard enough to make his hands shake. “I uh I’m looking for Y/N.” He said your name too fast, like if he didn’t get it out quickly enough, something worse might happen. “They were brought in- there was an accident-”

The nurse at the desk barely had time to respond before a doctor approached, already scanning a tablet.

“You’re here for Y/N L/N?” the doctor asked.

“Yes.” The word came out sharp. “Where is uh.. are they okay?”

That brief pause again, that tiny, almost invisible delay, told him everything was not okay. And he could swear his heart just completely stopped beating.

“They‘re currently in surgery.” the doctor said.

It took a second to register. “Surgery?”

“They sustained internal bleeding from the crash.” he continued, voice steady, professional but not cold. “There are also multiple orthopedic injuries, fractures that require surgical repair. The team is operating now.”

The words didn’t land all at once. They came in pieces.

Internal bleeding.

Fractures.

Operating now.

“No..” he said under his breath, like it was a correction. “No, that doesn’t- What no?” His mind scrambled for evidence that it’s not you in that operating room.

“How bad… is it? ” he asked, louder now.

“They were brought in by emergency services. Right now, the priority is stopping the bleeding and stabilizing them”

Stabilizing.

Which meant you wasn’t stable.

His chest tightened painfully. “Can I please see them?”

“I’m afraid not while they’re still in surgery.”

His hands dragged back through his hair, pacing once, twice, like standing still wasn’t an option anymore. “Were they conscious? Did they say anything? were the-” He stopped himself before he could say it.

Before he could ask if you‘d been scared.

“They were attended to immediately at the scene.” the doctor said carefully. “Right now, they‘re in the best possible place.”

That didn’t help. Nothing about this helped.

He let out a shaky breath, pressing his hands against his eyes just to keep the tears from falling. The hospital suddenly felt too small, like the air had thinned.

“Okay.” he said though it wasn’t okay. Not even close. “Okay… just uh just tell me when they’re out. Please.”

“We will.” the doctor assured him.

The waiting room clock hadn’t moved. Or at least, it felt that way. Jason sat hunched forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped so tightly they ached. The same position he’d been in for… hours? Maybe longer? Time had dissolved into something meaningless the moment the doctor said critical.

The doors to the ICU stayed closed.

Every time they shifted, every time someone in scrubs walked through, his head snapped up, hope inside him, only to collapse just as quickly when they passed by without looking at him.

He hadn’t realized he’d started counting the seconds between breaths until…

“Sir?” He looked up too fast. The doctor stood a few feet away, expression composed but heavy in a way that made his stomach drop.

He was on his feet before the doctor could say anything. “What happened? Please don’t tell me-”

“They‘re out of surgery.” the doctor said. The words hit, but they didn’t settle. Not yet.

“They had significant internal bleeding.” he continued. “The surgical team was able to control it, but they lost a considerable amount of blood. We’ve given transfusions, and right now, they‘re stable… but still in critical condition.”

He swallowed hard, throat dry. “Are they awake?”A small shake of the doctor’s head.

“No. Given the extent of their injuries, we’ve kept them under sedation. Their body’s been through a major trauma, and this allows it to rest and recover without additional stress.”

“How long?” he asked immediately. “How long are they going to be like that?”

“It’s difficult to give an exact timeline.” the doctor said. “At least the next 24 to 48 hours are crucial. We’ll monitor them closely and begin reducing sedation when it’s safe.”

48hours…. It sounded impossible. Like being asked to hold his breath that long.

“What about the fractures?” Jason pushed, needing something solid to hold onto.

“They has multiple orthopedic injuries.” the doctor replied. “Those have been stabilized for now. Additional procedures may be needed later, but the immediate priority was stopping the bleeding and keeping them alive.”

Keeping you alive. Keeping his world alive.

“Can I see them?” he asked, quieter this time.

The doctor nodded. “Briefly. They‘re in the ICU.”

The room was dimmer than he expected.

Machines filled the space with a steady rhythm. Beeping, the mechanical breath of a ventilator. It was the first thing he noticed.

The second was you.

For a moment, he couldn’t move.

You looked smaller somehow, swallowed by the wires and tubes tracing across your body. Bandages wrapped around parts of you he didn’t want to look at too closely. An oxygen tube rested at your face, rising and falling with each assisted breath.

It didn’t look like you. You usually look like you were bathed in sunlight. But now it looks like someone stole that light from you.

And if Jason has to, he will hunt that person down who took that light from you.

He stepped closer, slow, like any sudden movement might break something fragile.

“Hey…” His voice barely made it out.

No response. Of course not.

He reached for your hand carefully, afraid of hurting you, of doing something wrong. Your skin was warm, but there was no pressure in return.

“I’m here my love.” he said, softer now. “You’re okay. They… they fixed it. You just-” His voice broke. “You just need to wake up.” The machines answered for you.

He swallowed hard, blinking too quickly. “You don’t get to scare me like this, alright?” he added, trying for something lighter, something normal. It broke halfway through.

Nothing changed. You didn’t stir. Didn’t flinch.Didn’t even know he was there.

His grip tightened slightly around your hand, like he could anchor you somehow. Like he could keep you from slipping any further away.

“I’ll stay.” he said, the promise quiet but firm. “However long it takes. I’m not going anywhere.”

The ventilator breathed in.

Out.

In.

Out.

And he stood there, holding your hand, listening to the machines keep time, waiting for something, anything, to change.

Because it will. You won’t leave him alone in this cruel and fucked up world, right? Right?

Your fingers moved eventually after almost two days later.

At first, Jason thought he imagined it. Dome trick of exhaustion, of staring too long and wanting too much. But then it happened again. A faint, uneven twitch against his hand. He froze.

“Hey. ” His voice caught, then steadied as he leaned forward. “Hey… can you hear me?”

Nothing. But your brow tightened, just slightly, like something far away was pulling you toward it.

A nurse appeared a moment later, calm but quicker now, checking monitors, adjusting something at your side. “They’re coming out of sedation.” she said softly. “Talk to them.”

As if he needed permission.

“I’m here.” he said immediately, leaning closer, his grip gentle but certain around your hand. “You’re in the hospital. You’re safe. Just… take your time, okay?”

Your breathing shifted but uneven now, like your body was remembering how to do it on its own.

Your eyelids fluttered. Then slowly, heavily, they opened. Not fully. Just enough to reveal unfocused eyes, glassy and distant, like you were looking through him instead of at him. God how much he missed those pretty eyes of yours.

Relief hit so hard it almost hurt.

“Hey.” he breathed, a broken smile slipping through before he could stop it. “Hey, there you are.”

Your gaze drifted, struggling to settle. Confusion flickered there, trying to piece together something that didn’t make sense yet. Your lips parted slightly. No sound came out.

“That’s okay,” he said quickly, softer now. “You don’t have to talk. Just- please just rest.”

You blinked again, slower this time, your eyes finally catching on his face. Not fully recognizing but holding there. Something shifted.

Your fingers twitched weakly in his hand. Jason let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding for what felt like days. “Yeah… that’s it. I’ve got you.”

A faint crease formed between your brows, like you were trying to ask something. Trying to reach through the haze.

“It’s alright.” he murmured. “You were in an accident. You’re okay now. You’re safe. But you scared me so much.” your eyes softened just a fraction.

Not understanding everything but understanding enough. Your hand moved again but this time it pressed slightly against his.

It was small. But real. A proof that all his praying was answered. And it was enough to break something open in his chest.

“I’m right here.” he said, voice unsteady but sure. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Your eyes drifted closed again, exhaustion pulling you under… but not the same as before. Not empty.

Because you were alive. All you needed was just a little rest. And Jason couldn’t wait until he can hug you tightly again. Because one thing is for sure, once you’re out of this hospital you’re not escaping his loving arms. He will hug you until you’re sick of him.

But don’t you dare scare him like that ever again. He felt like he lost 10 years of his life because of this.

He will never admit it but he will make sure to spend the rest of his life making it up to you. He would rather die a second time than ever go through all of this pain ever again.