Tumgik
#Bruce waking up in the second body the first time:
puppetmaster13u · 8 months
Text
Just had the sleep-deprived idea of combining my Cryptid Batfam Au with @phoenixcatch7 's Possessed Doll Au into a combo au, some distant timeline where the two combine and meld into one thing.
Honestly would be slightly body horror probably, maybe with Bruce starting with building wings and then it... escalates. There's a reason that people don't go down in the caves under Gotham, and Bruce is incredibly lucky that It welcomes him. Perhaps welcomes him too much, what with it seeming to build him another body each time he gets injured, even if it's just bruising. Not to mention that another is forming when he takes Dick in, and then another when Barbara joins them.
There's something not quite the same the first time he wakes up in a body that is his but not, something organic but not. Testing on it is fine, small tests that is, anything larger and his head starts to pound and ring. It's easier to just accept the shadows' gifts than question it.
Tumblr media
Honestly I like to think the body is something between inorganic and organic, like veins of flesh and fur wrapped around bones and metal. Like a flesh puppet of sorts, starts all skeletal and mostly metal and wood but the veins of black and red start to grow over time as the whispers about the Bat spread.
Honestly I also like to think it's more animalistic than the original possessed doll au, the wood easily mistaken for things like chitin, especially with the segmentations. Combine the chest cavity with the harness that the kids cling to, and you have a back cavity lol. The 'Spine' seemingly splitting open to hide things inside. Bruce probably does have clothing for the body, but I wanted to figure out the general body first lol.
133 notes · View notes
troloxyn · 2 months
Text
Self Control. (Jason Todd x Reader)
TW- Smut, drinking!!
One night at a party, you and Jason hook up, and now you're both too afraid to speak to one another. That is until he decides to help you with homework two weeks later, breaking the silence.
Listen, I haven't been able to do any school work because my mind decided it HAD to finish this first. so i hope yall enjoy! Deadass over five thousand words, I think my brain melted a little bit writing this.
Word count: 5,366
--
Having aspirations outside of vigilantism was ideal, as long as you could keep up with the pressure. Piles of overdue assignments, paperwork, case studies and unread emails clawed at her from inside of her computer. You should have something outside of your nightlife escapades- it was encouraged, expected. Keeping up with the workload was just second nature. Which right now, she could not. If she gave into the pressure of her inability to focus, she would have dropped out of her bachelors classes two semesters ago. However, the eating force of fear of failure won her over. Not only was she not one to accept failure, her entire ride to college was free- on behalf of the Wayne estate- and she definitely couldn’t disappoint him of all people. 
This one was destroying her. A case study in her criminal psychology class. If the world hadn’t moved digitally, her entire desk would be littered with notes. She avoided this project on purpose- and now that she came to face it, she realized perhaps waiting until a week before it was due was giving herself too much credit. She whisked through photos, police reports, fake-autopsies, psychologist interviews- the pages were on a never ending loop. She was tearing her hair out by the time she made it to the end of the information portion, her wrist becoming sore from endless clicking. Time to focus. Lock the fuck in, girl, she tried to tell herself. 
“How’s the six figure amount of debt going?” 
She jumped out the sound of his voice, turning in her chair to face him. Standing in the door frame, leaned against the wooden, cherry kissed wall of the library with his arms crossed. Of course, he looked incredible. She could tell he just got back from the gym, his sleeveless black shirt over his toned frame and a pair of gray sweatpants she wouldn’t let him walk out of the house in if they were a couple. His face gleamed as if he was sweating, his hair pushed back in a mess. She didn’t do a double take because she knew she’d lose some form of her composure. 
The other reason she couldn’t focus. 
“Great, considering I'm not paying for it.” She scooted closer to her computer, as if it could pull her away from his magnetizing grip on her. She could feel his eyes behind her in the grazing of an awkward, heavy silence. 
“So, what are you working on?” 
One could say the two had gotten closer within the past couple of months. Before, he practically ignored her. As they got closer, their main interactions were chastising her over being late to school. Scolding her, as if Bruce didn’t do it enough. It was never condescending- when she slept in for classes, Jason would be pounding on her door or dragging her out of bed. 
The pressure caused by him came to a halt, though, after a drunken night of intimacy. Now she was definitely waking up late for school. She’d gotten sort of used to him forcing her out of bed.  It was an accident, she thinks to herself over and over every time her body recalled his touch. That’s what was really bothering her. The two would meet eyes around others and he wouldn’t tease her the way he usually did- something lingered behind his gaze and it bothered her- the way their eyes would meet when everyone got together. The way she’d catch him looking over at her from across the room- even before that night, but more often now. Neither of them spoke about it, she didn’t think they really had the guts to. Besides him initiating a few conversations, they haven’t talked at all. It happened rather quickly between them. He had her in the bathroom on the sink, tearing off her dress and squeezing her exposed breasts, his thick and strong legs pressed between her thighs so intimately. Bites all over her neck- bites that certainly bruised her collarbone and shoulders, uncaring for her sleeveless dress as long as it came off. A party on the outside, people babbling in conversation and music blaring louder than Bruce would have liked. Dick had poured heavy drinks that night. In those moments, nothing else mattered. It was between Jason and her, the clothes he was tearing off of her and all the frustrations he’d ignored. His free hand around the back of her neck, forcing her into a sloppy, messy, kiss- her lathered moans of excitement and the friction of his jeans to her thin panties. Quieting her with his lips, drenching her entire face with kisses. rubbing her swollen clit, unzipping his jeans- slipping her panties to the side, pushing himself in. Her gasping, parted lips and wide eyes- “Shush, baby- fuck- They’re gonna hear us-“
“A case study,” she replied, snapping out of her memories into reality. She could feel his presence behind her chair, feeling a hand come onto its back rest, gently making contact with her incidentally. She cleared her throat. “It’s a research project and a case study. It’s very long. I decided to ignore it for.. a while.” 
He hummed. “Shouldn’t be too hard. We’re used to this kind of stuff anyway.” 
“It’s not that,” she replied, scooting away from his touch. “It’s uh- Just can’t focus.” 
“That’s no excuse.” She rolled her eyes at his comment. She tried not to look at him too much- His ungloved, veined hands that trailed up to his tight arms. His fingers tapped one by one on her desk. He towered over her, he was so huge- “You need help?” 
“Help? No way,” she replied. She could smell whatever cologne he was wearing and she remembered it vividly from that night. She cleared her throat awkwardly, laughing a little at his suggestion in sheer intimidation of his looming  presence. “No. I wouldn’t want to bother you with this.”
He shrugged. Finding an excuse to at least be around her since it all happened. “I ‘ont got shit else to do. Plus, might be fun. You got other homework?” 
She cried, shrinking into her arms. “Fighting with you guys and being a college student- I don’t know which is gonna kill me first.” 
He was silent for a little bit and it ate at her. She was anticipating a sly remark, a comment about needing to get her life together, pull yourself up by the bootstraps, not an invasive silence- 
“You should be proud. It’s not easy.” 
His comment almost left her crippled. 
“Huh?” She looked back at him, giving him a look. He immediately froze up, frowning at her, flustered by her reaction. “Dammit- I try to be nice for once- I’m saying you’re doing a good job. I certainly couldn’t give a fuck enough to do what you do.” She smiled a bit and turned back to her screen. 
“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He smacked his lips and leaned in closer to read the text on her screen, shaking his head. “Don’t be weird. I won’t do it again.” 
Except, that wasn’t the nicest thing he’d said to her. Maybe while sober, but that night in the bathroom through the suffocated echoes of laughter and music, he practically fawned over her. Spilling words of affection, calling her a goddess, treating every part of her body with an intense passion she didn’t expect he held for her. She’d never expected him to be like this, thrusting himself into her and gripping her ass tightly, mouth pressed against one another and still looking for oxygen through painted moans. Kissing every area of exposed skin he could breathe near, worshiping her body like it was a drying resource. “God, you’re so fucking hot,” he moaned, pulling back while fucking her into the sink to get a look at her taking him. His thumb brushed her clit with enough force to form a knot in her stomach.  “J-jason-” He cut her off moans with more kisses, never stopping his rhythm.  “Better be quiet, baby,” he said through her lips. “You want this whole house to know what I’m doing to you?” Her moans were muffled by her whining, biting her lips closed as he looked into her eyes. “You want everyone to know how good I’m fucking you?” She nodded her head yes, barely able to manage the words out of her desperate mouth and he chuckled. “Oh yeah?” His voice made the knot in her stomach tighten like a balled fist. He could see it in her face and feel it inside of her, each word he spoke and every thrust she was being knocked over the edge. “Keep up them pretty moans then, baby, everyone’s gonna know who’s making you feel this good-” Her moans peaked and through his drunken state he wondered if anyone really heard them in here. He couldn’t care less, being knuckle deep into the girl he’d had dreams about for months and constantly stealing looks when he thought she didn’t notice. “You gonna cum for me, baby? That’s it, keep going, I won’t stop until you do.”
She wondered how he could act so cordial now. 
She didn’t forget any moment of that night. How they took shots together from a nearly failed mission, how they argued over comics, how they fought or threw their jackets at each other. How during their fake fight, he picked her up by her legs, slamming her into the couch. How easily he moved her around, how huge he was in comparison. How his arms felt on her body. How she swore she could totally beat his ass and how they had to fight- she just wanted him to put his hands on her for some reason, badly. How he had opened up to her in such a way she hadn’t seen before. How she noticed that night how incredibly handsome his smile was, or how his eyes gleamed in an almost squint when he laughed. How Dick had teased him for fighting with her. How when the party got louder and they kept talking and stumbling into each other, giggling and pushing each other into walls. Or how she’d pulled him into the bathroom and almost immediately were kissing, pressing into each other’s bodies like they’d been together for years. How the next day they couldn’t even look at each other. 
“Why don’t you start by organizing your sources? I can help with the interviews,” he said, snapping her out of her day dream. “You’re really gonna help me?” “Don’t think you could do it without me,” he smiled, something she didn’t catch him doing often. 
After a solid thirty minutes of reading, she realized she was going in circles. Each part of the overlapping case study was drowned out by the wretched banter of her memories. It felt impossible to not steal glances at him. Ever so often she would feel eyes on her and she would let him stare- moments at a time felt like minutes, they traded glances awkwardly.  She watched him as he intensely scrolled on the spare laptop, taking physical notes in one of her journals. His fist propping up his head as he wrote, eyebrows knitted in concentration. Recently, she started to notice how handsome he was. How the intensity of his personality took over his dark features in contrast to that pretty smile he gave when he was drinking the other night. He looked up at her, catching her stare red handed and she smiled. “How’s it coming?” She asked. She felt flustered and nervous, unable to diminish the little smiles that came to her face as she took glances at him. He closed the notebook and stretched his hands into the air, lifting his black shirt to reveal some of his stomach. “I should be asking you that,” he said in a yawn. “What’s the matter? Still can’t focus?” He asked. She shook her head no. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she muttered with an awkward laugh, turning back to her computer. She knew exactly what was wrong with her- and so did he. 
“Lemme’ see,” He said, sliding past her to her computer. Now they were dangerously close- his arm going underneath hers to reach her keyboard, their hands brushing against one another so he could move the mouse. They stayed like this for a few minutes, slowly getting closer to one another, his broad shoulders near her face. Gently, she placed her temple against his shoulder, scooting closer to him. She noticed him stop typing, the silence in the room drowned out by her laptop’s fans thudding every now and then. Snapping his concentration once more and putting him more on edge than he thought she could, “Do you wanna sit?” She asked. “We can sit together,” she was being bold.
 For ignoring his existence for almost two weeks, she had an awful lot of forced confidence. That whiplash scarred him, made his stomach turn, assuming he heard her incorrectly. He thought maybe he came off too strong that night, in the bathroom- perhaps it was the way he talked to her while he fucked her. Maybe it threw her off, perhaps he said too much. He was a passionate man and she had gotten a hold of him at the height of his yearning. She wanted to be close to him again- even if not in the same way, to be engulfed by his arms might be enough to help her focus. He agreed with great hesitation, feeling flustered and unlike himself. It wasn’t often when he felt put on edge, and everything about her was making something in him tick. Her soft touches, whatever perfume or shampoo she used, her quiet hums while she tried to work. He almost resented her for making him feel so self conscious. 
Watching her sit down into his lap, biting down on his tongue. For two weeks, ever since that night, he’d been trying to suppress the feelings that got worse with time. Confusion, anxiety, yearning for her all over again. He had a whiplash that he couldn’t lick to heal like other wounds. Approaching her was incredibly difficult, especially since she’d disappear whenever he came around. Months of dreaming about her in those positions were taken to reality and he savored every moment of licking up her body and taking her over and over again- but when he had felt that coldness from her, he wished he hadn’t even been there that night. He would have rather suffered in silence longer than for her to not talk to him. The night of the party was an accident, sure, but not a bad one- just not one he would’ve expected. Not one he knew how to confront properly. How could he be around her and act like nothing happened that night, when he had to cover her mouth to not let veracious moans leak out of the bathroom? Neither of them expected it to get to that point. He didn’t know where it came from. He had a certain amount of self control, self control that was tested- self control that failed with every racking thrust he slammed into her. He thought about it almost every minute of every day, slamming inside of her and grabbing her hair, the way she moaned and sighed in appreciation- the way his name rolled off her tongue like an orgasm building up in his body-
He had to stop thinking about it. He could feel an erection press his sweats and he huffed, moving her away from his crotch with ease. What was he doing here anyway? He wanted to talk to her- he’s wanted to since it happened- but it was too much to confront. Everytime he even got near her he could sense her discomfort. Dick asked him about her several times after that night. “Everybody knew you guys were flirting. You were body slamming her into the couch and twirling her around, and then you guys disappeared for an hour-” He was nervous, maybe even scared of her emotions, not knowing if she resented him for that night. But the way she was leaning back for comfortability against his chest, and the way she held onto his free arm so innocently, he sincerely doubted it now. With an arm wrapped around her waist, she moved back to the center of his lap. 
Maybe they would just never bring it up, he thought. Maybe they’ll just keep moving forward and with disdain or limerence for one another. He didn’t wanna do this every couple of weeks without talking to her in between, or having to pretend a part of him wasn’t deeply infatuated by her. He felt her shift and he could’ve let out a whimper- he had a feeling she knew what he was doing and it was torturing him. A hand fell to her thigh. He traced it a bit, as if it were casual- he was beginning to get light headed. She wore a skirt and thigh highs, so he played with the elasticity of her socks, snapping them onto her skin gently. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, his heart pounding like it was his first time. From over her shoulder, He looked at her thighs. He remembered that night, spreading them apart and pounding her. He buried his face into her neck, his member twitching from the memory, her smell, her ass pressing and shifting on him. He knew she could feel it and now he wanted to ask her all of those questions he had asked that same night while he had her on the sink.
 His hands slid down her thigh, squeezing them firmly, lightly parting them over his knees. She hummed. It was rather meak and it made him nervous with excitement. “Hmm?” He asked. “You’re distracting me,” she told him. Not like she didn’t enjoy it. 
“Excuses,” he mumbled into her neck. “What you need to do is focus.” He said, traveling further up her body. Bold, very bold. She could feel tightness in her stomach and her face flush with heat. “I’m trying,” she stuttered out as he explored more coverage of her thigh. His fingers traced her flesh, drawing closer and closer to her skirt. “Good,” he huffed. “Keep going.” His voice was more gentle than it usually was, slower and muffled into her shoulder. He watched as she organized her work, skipping through her case file and summarizing the prompt questions. His hands met her panties and her entire body tensed, he watched as she began to mistype on her keyboard and fumble with commands. Through the cloth of her panties, he felt damp fabric as he slid down her slit, coming back up and making full circles around her clit with his other hand squeezing her thigh. He held her thighs open with his own, fully spread out, only covered by the cloth of her skirt. She whined, hummed, mumbled his name, shifted against his stiff erection. “Why’d you stop typing?” He asked, his fingers in locomotion. She whined through closed lips, thighs twitching and tensing against his own. “Jason- It feels good-” “You’re gonna get in trouble if you don’t finish that work, girl.” He taunted her, quick but heavy moans escaping her lips. “Keep goin’,” he demanded. She did as she was told, trying to write sentences through a building orgasm. He could feel it from the way her thighs tensed and how her back arched that she was close. He wanted to give it to her so badly it made him ache, make her cum over and over again- he didn’t know if it was right, if they could be friends after this. He didn’t know if he could watch her act like he didn’t do these things to her after it was over. Was this worth whatever relationship they had left? Even as he contemplated it, his hands couldn’t stop roaming. He couldn’t fake it- he couldn’t act like he didn’t want her and he wouldn’t, either. He watched as she struggled to type and flip through files on her computer. “Good job, baby. You’re being sucha’ good girl.” He kissed her ears as she let out a soft moan, slipping his free hand up her loose fitted shirt, going under her bra. “Jason- I’m-” “Keep saying it, say my name again,” the friction of their clothes were making him raw with desperation, bucking his hips up as she melted onto him. He felt her tense up, longer than before, letting out a sigh of his name, gripping the sides of the chair and the mouse. He continued to touch the fabric covering her swollen clit, letting her ride out her orgasm as he kissed her face. The way she moaned and moved around in his lap could make anyone fall in love, he thought. That was dangerous. She was pressed completely into his back, humming his name, touching his face with her soft hands. He brought his fingers back to that sweet spot, making her finish even faster the second time. He could feel the dampness on her thighs, sweating onto his pants and he hadn’t even fingered her. 
He stood up, holding her by her waist as he did so, bending her back over the keyboard. “Keep working, baby. Don’t mind me, okay?” He kissed the sides of her face while he was pressed against her back. She heard his sweatpants shift as she worked his boxers. She tried to look back but he grabbed her face, pushing it down into the screen. “Work,” he ordered, more intensely this time. With her bent over her keyboard, her lifted skirt exposed her thin panties, working them halfway down her thighs. He removed his member from his boxers, precum staining his clothes and dripping from the tip. “What are you working on now, baby?” He asked. His voice made knots in her stomach as she tried to flip through pages and explain what she was doing. Her mouth parted to speak but was interrupted as his erection poked through her thighs, rubbing against her leaking mess. He had a strong grip on her ass, moving her hips back and forth on his cock, watching the gleam from her soaked cunt make noises. He moved slowly and with ease, her thighs were soaked from his teasing. “T- I’m- I’m working- Trying to-” He gave her ass a firm slap. “Speak up,” he groaned. His cock ached with every sliding motion, he could probably cum himself but he held back, satiating every movement. “The introduction- to my- my um..,” she panted. He laughed as she scrambled through her moans. “Please, Jason?” He hummed in appreciation. He kept working his dick back and forth against her slit, pushing himself faster each time from pure bliss. Now he was a moaning mess, low groans he tried to silence as he fucked her thighs. “Keep working,” he huffed. “You still have so much to do. You’ve been waking up late every day for classes, and you expect me to let you get away with that?” He watched as she cried, trying to type and retain information. Her brain, too distracted by his aching cock pleasing himself between her. She wanted to protest, to blame him for not waking her up like she’d gotten used to. So spoiled of her. Firmly she squeezed her thighs, earning a moan from his parted lips, stroking her hair with his free hand and tightly gripping it. With a quick gasp, he pulled her face back, kissing her gently. “I missed you,” he mumbled into her mouth. She almost didn’t hear him but she spoke through his moaning kisses when it registered. “I missed you so much, Jason,” he was now squeezing her breasts and rocking against her hips, steady moans he didn’t care to suppress anymore. “I thought about you everyday,” he admitted. “I thought about you in every single way.” He moaned, bending to kiss the back of her shoulders, trailing down her neck to the sensitivity of her spine. His words earned a yearning cry from her, and the part that wasn’t enjoying every engulfing moan of hers felt a slight dread about their future. As he kissed her shoulders, he wondered if she would come back to him after this. If they would be able to be normal like how it was before. Her back arched from the sweetness of his lips as he ran his hands underneath her clothes. Great, he thought. Go ahead and say a bunch of sweet shit to the girl you won’t talk to for the next month.
Pulling out his soaked member from her thighs, with ease, he pushed himself into her. Honest, drawn moans escaped their lips, saliva trailing from their lips as they departed. He grabbed her hips, forcing her down into the keyboard once more, taking in every part of her soaked cunt and moaning her name. She shifted, struggled against his hips, his length believably long for a man of his stature- something she was not used to. “C’mon, baby. Take it for me, like before,” He cooed, keeping his hand firm on her back as he fucked her, louder, sloppier moans of pain and pleasure from him poking parts of her that had only been reached by him. He was so different when they had sex, she had realized. So sweet and affectionate, intensely passionate and loving. Meekly she reached her hand to his hip, stopping his motion momentarily- he chuckled, grabbing ahold of the hand and holding it to her back. “What’s wrong? Can’t take it?” He asked through thrusts that made her unable to form words.  “Jason- feels so good, it’s so much,” she stuttered out, rocking her hips slowly. He grabbed her other arm, holding her back like a pair of handcuffs as his breathing hitched.
 “Oh yeah?” He asked. “You want me to keep going?” He said, slowing his thrusts. Her hips rocked promptly against his throbbing member, “please, please don’t stop,” she mumbled, her face now down into the coldness of the Wayne manor’s library desk. “No problem, sweetheart,” he spoke with confidence, picking up his speed, giving her no time to adjust. Fucking her almost senselessly, her moans now cries as his mercy ran thin. He couldn’t help it, he couldn’t slow down, mindlessly knocking over her book bag and other school supplies as he broke into her. His pace was rapid and without any consideration of how she was going to sit down for the next few days. Slamming a hand down onto the table for added pressure while still restraining her, “-Tell me how much you enjoy this,” he panted, watching her struggle against him as her ass bounced against him every time he plunged into her. Her words were melted ice cream, scrambled word vomit, he fucked her so hard she could barely manage to spit anything but the word Jason out, which she mumbled with each thrust- and it drove him over the edge. “Tell me how much you missed this feeling, tell me how much you missed me,” he spat, grabbing her hair and forcing her face up. He looked at her with sincere need- not just a sexual one. “I missed you, I missed you, I missed you Jason,” she confessed through stutters. It made him smile, a sweet, almost drunken smile as he laughed through huffs of pleasure. “So good for me,” he said through kisses. Her stomach fluttered from a softness she’d only seen once before in him. 
He picked up her leg, throwing it on the table to make sure he fucked her thoroughly enough to get his point across. With her arms now free, she grabbed onto the table for dear life, biting her tongue from letting out a scream she knew someone would hear from above the floorboards. They didn’t need Alfred coming in to check on if someone was getting murdered down here. Holding one leg up as he pounded into her, his breathing racking from every thrust that brought him closer to satisfaction, he grabbed a fistfull of her hair. “You’re gonna talk to me tomorrow, right?” The question threw her off guard, her moaning dimming as she tried to piece the words together. The grip on her hair tightened and she winced. “You’re not gonna ignore me after I fucked you this good?” He asked, getting closer to her ear, making sure he heard her right. “Because,” he panted as his hips bucked further into her, the grip on her elevated leg almost bruising. “I’m gonna fuck you like this every chance that I get.” The words edged her, he felt her body tensing, aching for release as he picked up his pace. “You don’t have a choice- me ‘nd you- we’re gonna do this a lot more.” He felt her cumming, squeezing around him, her back arching as he muttered filth into her ear, indescribable moans and thank you’s. “Don’t thank me yet,” he told her. “You’re not getting rid of me, girl. Try to ignore me again. You won’t forget how much I made you cum. You won’t forget how good I fucked you.” Her face felt hot and so did her entire body, more of a promise than a threat and she was fine with that. “I won’t forget,” she repeated as he kissed the lobe of her ear.  His chest now pressed against her back with a hand around her throat, “You’re mine. You’re all mine. You’re not going anywhere. I’ll see you tomorrow, and the day after that- everyday,” She felt herself cumming again as he beat into every corner of her walls, nodding profusely. “I’m all yours, Jay,” she whimpered. “Thank you- thank you-” She forced, her entire body squirming under pleasure. 
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Where do you want me to cum?” He asked. “Inside of me, please,” desperate and filled with need. “You want me to fill you up, princess?” She nodded, begging. “Look at me,” he demanded, forcing her face to his, eyes interlocking. “-Need to see that pretty face when I cum-” It was less of a demand and more of his own whimpering pleading. His hips bucked one last time into her, her mouth open for a kiss as she watched him finish, a range of emotion hitting his face as he tightened the grip on her leg, stroking her face with his free palm. It was incredibly hot, she thought, watching his face while he came.
 He pulled out with a sharp gasp. He bent over, kissing her exposed ass before pulling up her panties and fixing her skirt, fixing his own clothes afterwards. He grabbed a hold of her, sitting back down into the chair, stroking her hair and giving her small pecks on her face. With a sigh of content, he kissed her temple. “Alright, baby. Can you focus now for me?”
Meanwhile, upstairs. 
“Alfred,” Dick interrupted as Alfred tried for the door. “Why don’t you ever hangout with me anymore?” Alfred raised his eyebrow at the young man he practically raised in front of him. “Master Dick, whatever do you mean? Is our spare time spent with one another inefficient?” “Yes, right now it is,” Dick said with crossed arms. “We could be hanging out, right now.” “Sounds lovely. I just need to check the library-” “So, you don’t like me anymore?” Dick huffed, covering his face. “Can’t we go make cookies? Please?” Alfred sighed. “Master Dick, is there something wrong?’ “Yes, Alfred, there actually is.” Alfred raised his brow once again. “But if you bake with me right now, there won’t be. And I will be much happier.” “Is there something going on downstairs you don’t want me to know about?” Alfred asked with a concerned look. Maybe he didn’t want to know. “I think we should make sugar cookies this time,” Dick said with a grin, placing his hand on Alfred’s shoulder and leading him away from a now closed door.
397 notes · View notes
dorabledewdroop · 2 months
Text
The White Healer Chapter 2
Summary: Reader wakes up somewhere unknown and ends up meeting the avengers
Chapter warnings: nothing really? Panic, anxiety?
I know I'm pacing this slowly but I'm doing this the only way I know how. I really hope everyone likes it.
Series Masterlist
X--X--X--X--X--X
Beep. Beep. Beep. 
Your entire body tensed as you registered the beeping sound. Your eyes shot open and to your horror, you were in a bright white room. An IV attached to your arm and a machine beeping your increasing heart rate. 
No no no no. Please no
Not waiting for a moment, you ripped anything attached to you off and immediately ran out of the room. Not knowing where you were going. Just knowing you had to get out of this place. You turned in random directions. It was all going splendidly, that was, until you heard the alarms ringing. 
Great.This is just what I needed. you thought. 
Not thinking you ran straight into a room that looked like… a lounge?
You froze, as did every single person in the room. All eyes on you.
They stood up slowly. Afraid to scare you even further. You took a step back, clearly hyperventilating. Within a moment you turned around from where you came and sprinted out. Only to run face first into a wall of muscles. You quite literally bounced back and fell flat on your ass. The bearded blonde man’s eyes widened as if he had barely noticed you running into him. 
“My deepest apologies. I didn’t see you there” the bearded man said in a deep British accent. You gasped at what he was carrying. It was a hammer. A huge one. Surely he wouldn’t use that on you? Not taking a chance you scrambled back and ran the other way only to run into another body. 
What the fuck do these people eat?? Why are they made of bricks?  You think as, once again, you fall back. 
This time however it’s the white haired boy you had saved. You remembered he called himself Pietro. 
You grabbed his hands. 
“Please don’t let them take me. Please I beg you. I can’t go through that again” you whispered desperately. 
Pietro’s eyes narrowed in concern and slowly nodded his head. The moment he put a protective arm around your shoulder, you sighed in relief. 
“Nobody will harm you here. I promise” he said gently. “Can I introduce you to them?”
Breathing deeply through your nose, you nodded. 
He guided you the room you had scrambled away from. He beside you as you actually took a look at everyone in the room, including the bearded man with the hammer. 
Did he really carry that everywhere he went? That must be quite inconvenient. 
Shaking the thoughts out of your head you allowed yourself to actually look at everyone’s faces. You felt the blood drain from your face as you recognised most of them. 
“You’re… you’re the Avengers..” you whispered. Loud enough that they heard you. Some of them chuckled. You did not.
“That we are” the guy with the hammer said as he took a step forward. He laid a brief kiss on your knuckles as he took your hand in his.
Chuckling you curtsied.
“My name is Thor Odinson, god of thunder” He stated, his hands sparkling with electricity.
“That’s enough Point Break. How about we all introduce ourselves as well?” Tony Stark said, putting a hand on Thor’s shoulder.
Eventually, everyone introduced themselves: Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Thor Odinson, and Sam Wilson.
It took a second for you to notice everyone staring at you expectantly, your eyes widened as you realised what they were expecting.
“I’m y/n. Y/n y/l/n” You said as confidently a you could. Which, let’s be honest, wasn’t that confident to begin with.
As everybody went to sit around the sofas, you sat on a chair awkwardly. 
Steve cleared his throat. “So y/n, Clint here told us that during the fight in Sokovia you were-“
A flurry of noise outside caused you to turn around and see a rush of brown hair charging towards you. Panicking, you stood up ready to run. Before you could, the brunettes body slammed into you in the form of a hug. 
I have to admit.. this is pretty nice 
You found yourself relaxing into the hug regardless of how hard this person was hugging you. You felt weirdly… safe?
Pietro cleared his throat with what could only be described as a shit eating grin on his face.
“This is my sister, Wanda Maximoff” he introduced.
Eventually, Wanda broke the hug and looked at you, her face slightly red.
‘Holy shit she’s fucking gorgeous’ you thought to yourself.
You looked at Pietro, a little confused. Not noticing how her face turned the shade of a tomato.
She looked at you with her forest green eyes. You were immediately lost in them. Fuck everyone else, you were going to spend the rest of your life looking into those eyes.
You saw her mouth move, not registering what she was saying. A small smirk on her face brought you back to the present.
“I’m sorry what was that?” You said blushing.
From the corner of your eye you saw Pietro’s face about to split with how wide his smile had gotten.
“Thank you so much for saving my brother’s life” She repeated. “I- I felt.. I couldn’t feel him for a second.”
A dark look took over her face, anguish filled her eyes. That’s when Pietro stepped towards her and grabbed her into a hug
“I’m fine, Sestra” He said, rubbing her back soothingly
You looked away to give them privacy, to notice mostly everyone else had done the same.
Once Wanda was feeling better, she sat down besides her brother.
“By the way y/n” Pietro started “Are you sure you want to continue wearing that hospital outfit?”
Huh? HUH?
You look down at yourself and notice you’ve been wearing.. scrubs? Why the fuck were you wearing scrubs??? You’re not even a doctor? Why did anyone allow you to wear scrubs.
“That was actually me..” A new voice said from near the door. 
It felt familiar.. It was as alluring as Wanda’s voice. Your head shot to the door and saw another equally drop dead gorgeous woman.
Why the fuck are the women in this building so fucking attractive??
“I presumed that princess here wouldn’t take too kindly to waking up strapped to machines in a hospital gown.. I’m Natasha by the way.. Natasha Romanoff” Natasha continued.
You blushed even harder at the nickname. You were still distracted by her beauty when Wanda clapped her hands, startling you ever so slightly.
“It’s settled then” she said with a smirk. “Nat and I will help y/n change into something more comfortable while the boys order in some food for lunch.”
Before you could react Nat nodded her head as Wanda grabbed your hand and led you outside the room.
‘What the fuck is going on.’ You thought as both of the girls held each of your hands and guided you towards what must be the living quarters.
Oh this is going to be a long day…
X--X--X--X--X--X
I hope everyone is enjoying.
Tag List (I really hope I'm doing this correctly, I'm sorry if I haven't):
@marvelwomen-simp
173 notes · View notes
faeriekit · 1 year
Text
The Firstborn Son
Tumblr media
dp x dc | Batman 👻 tw for: dead body, brief reference to human trafficking
(Part II available now!)
****
Once upon a time, there is a boy who dies forever...mostly.
****
Once upon a time, there is a man who wants to live forever.
He does.
****
Once upon a time, there is a daughter born to an immortal man.
"I need an heir," her father commands.
She gives him one.
****
Once upon a time, there is a King.
(He is a dead boy.)
(Most do not know that.)
"My heir, for a hundred years of your power," the immortal offers; the King accepts.
****
Once upon a time, there was a family of acrobats.
There isn't, not anymore, but the son still loves his mother and father, and gravity cannot steal his wings forever.
He sleeps restlessly, and rarely in his own bed. The allure of flying is too much to resist. At night, when the world is quiet, the acrobat joins the black darkness of an endless sky, and claims it as his own.
His guardian is one with the night.
The petit Robin is bright light and spectacle, no matter how well he hides his colors. He is spotted first.
****
Dick didn't really remember waking up from his nap. Alfred had put him down for a cold; his head hurt, and he was sleepy all the time, so B was out without him and Dick was stuck in a too-big bed in a giant, dark mansion, all alone.
Except. At some point, Dick must have gotten out of bed. Because now he's in the chandelier.
Dick doesn't remember jumping to the chandelier. And jumping to the chandelier is hard work; it's not something he could have done in his sleep. It requires weight, heft; the shirking of gravity. The night is dark around him; there are no street lights outside of their windows to light up the hallway. The darkness makes the grand persian carpet so much farther away than it is in the daytime-- entirely, unfathomably far below him. Pale moonlight flickers across cut shards of crystal. It's Dick's own little bird's nest.
Dick and the chandelier gently sway. He doesn't notice the-- the ghost, the illusion-- for a whole minute. It just looks like moonlight, until it doesn't.
It's a body. A boy's body-- not much older than Dick. Suspended, midair.
His heart drops. But Dick doesn't scream.
For a second, there are two boys midair, silent and still in the morning moonlight.
The body raises its head. Hello, Richard.
Dick doesn't move.
I have a question for you. The body blinks sightless eyes. Does your guardian treat you well?
Dick...doesn't know what that means. He rolls his weight forward, careful, so careful not to tip himself over the edge and send him plummeting.
"...Why are you asking?"
I need something looked after, the body says. Its limbs sway in wind that isn't here. It is very precious to me.
"Oh." Well, B is Batman, sometimes. And when he's not Batman, he's Bruce Wayne, and he is in charge of a lot of people. "Yeah, he's respons- reponsbile- he does a good job. Can I see it?" Dick's interest is piqued.
The body stills. And then-- like a zombie clawing its way out of its grave, it reaches through the rotting skin of its own stomach and removes. Something.
It's a baby.
Dick leans so far forward that he almost does go toppling but he's gripping the silver of the chandelier so that he doesn't, and, look! It's a baby! It's so small and tiny and it's still purple!
"He's so new!" Dick gasps, and releases one arm from its death grip to make a grabby hand. The body only floats close enough that Dick can pet the baby's cheek with a careful finger, can feel the softness of the baby's hair.
He is my charge, the body explains. As such, he is precious to me.
The baby is so small. Dick wants to bounce him, like he's seen mamas and papas do with their little ones. "Can I hold him?"
The baby disappears back into the body. It looks like a maggot burrowing back into the corpse it's eating, and Dick is heartbroken and sick about it. No. Not until I know it's safe.
Dick pouts. Also, he needs to know how to get the baby away from the...body. Babies need a lot of light and warmth. A dead body monster can't give him that.
Your guardian played his part in making the little heir, the body says. This baby was given to me by his grandfather. His mother passed him onto her own father, and her father sold him to me.
"Oh no!" Dick gasps. That is one of the things B has had to explain to Dick, one of hundreds of terrible things that happens to people in Gotham. And it happened to B's baby?
Yes. The body floats sightlessly, thin skin sliding over too-pale eyes. I must know if he is safe before I leave the baby in his care. Will you help me?
Dick...doesn't know what that means. He bites down on the soft presence of his lip. (He tastes blood.) "How?"
The body and the baby inside it are still. Quiet. Dick is two stories off the ground, midair, and any wrong motion could be his-- his-- Dick can't even see the ground. It would hurt so much. He's so high up from the distant hardwood floor and with only ghosts to keep him company.
...It would be very scary.
Dick swallows.
Do you trust that he would come get you, if you were in danger?
Dick knows so. He nods.
Do you trust he would be smart enough to find you? Mean enough to defend you? Care enough to comfort you? the body asks.
Dick nods.
The body floats closer. Closer. Until they are almost touching-- limp limbs entangling on the crystalline arms of the chandelier. It would be very scary, if you said yes, the body admits, as heavily weighted as any corpse that cannot help you hold it. But you would be in no danger. Should your guardian succeed, I will entrust him with this precious thing.
One circus boy's fears for the safety of B's baby. It's an easy choice. Dick is Robin. He is always going to pick helping people over maybe getting hurt.
His pinky touches the cold, dead flesh of the body's.
And then Dick wakes up sweating and heaving in bed.
866 notes · View notes
halfway-happyyy · 2 years
Text
cool my desire (rooster bradshaw)
AN: hi friends! i got sent this message a couple days ago and have been obsessing about it ever since. 18+ only! this piece is under a cut for obvious (sexual) reasons. warnings include: public oral sex (f receiving) masturbation (f&m), dirty talk, swearing, etc. hope you enjoy 💕
Pairing: rooster bradshaw x female reader (she/her pronouns)
song inspo: i'm on fire - bruce springsteen
Tumblr media
Of two things Rooster Bradshaw is absolutely certain: the first one is that he is helplessly in love with the woman sitting directly opposite him. The second one is that she’s just announced that she’s never had an orgasm. He thinks he misheard her the first time around, so he strains above the rock music blaring from the bar's jukebox and asks her to repeat herself.
“I've never had an orgasm.”
It exits her mouth in the kind of nonchalant way in which one might announce that it's raining outside, or that they're hungry.
Rooster glances at Hangman who wears the same confused expression, and suddenly she laughs, and Rooster reckons it’s a sound he'd be happy to listen to until his dying day.
“Gosh, if I got compensated for every time I got the same reaction I could retire and live happily on a private island somewhere. For some reason it’s a concept most people have a hard time coming to terms with.”
Bob is just as floored as the rest of the gang. He pushes his wire-frame glasses farther up the bridge of his nose and asks, “When you say never?”
Rooster watches her shrug.
“It’s been my experience that in the heat of the moment, most people just don’t care.”
And Rooster suddenly thinks- I care.
Coyote tips back the rest of his beer, setting the bottle on the wooden tabletop with a resounding clank. “I’d accept this challenge any day, and all I would need is ten minutes to do it.” He tosses her a wink and Rooster’s cheeks flame from equal parts envy and second-hand embarrassment.
“Wow, Coyote. Ten minutes only? Not exactly selling the experience here, are you?” Her teasing tone and wry smile causes the rest of the group to dissolve into fits of low whistles and peeling laughter.
“Wait- so you mean to tell all of us that you fly combat planes for the United States Navy for a living and you’ve never experienced an orgasm?” Hangman’s Texan drawl is incredulous.
She nods her head, her dazzling gaze narrowed. “I can’t imagine how the two are related, but yes Jake, that is what I’m saying.”
“I think it’s sad.” Bob murmurs lowly and Rooster can't help agreeing with him. “More people could benefit from taking the time to consider their partner’s pleasure.”
Hangman snorts. “Sex is sex, Bob. Remind me again which fairy tale you’ll be reading before bed tonight?”
“Yikes Jake. I pity anyone who has the misfortune of sharing a bed with you.” She turns to Bob and offers the unassuming pilot a reassuring smile. “Thanks Bob.”
Rooster clears his throat, suddenly self-conscious of the fact he chose not to partake in the festivities this evening. “For what it’s worth, I think Bob’s right. Making sure your partner gets there is most of the pleasure already. At least for me, anyway.”
Hangman slaps his hand on the table twice, his expression triumphant. “Well, there you have it, kid. If you ever get desperate for a lesson, I’m sure any one of us would be happy to offer our enthusiastic assistance.”
She laughs again, and this time it causes goosebumps to bloom on Rooster’s arms. “How generous of you, Jake. Guess I’d have to be pretty damn desperate though, huh?”
Despite every effort, Rooster doesn’t get much sleep that night. Instead, he spends most of his waking moments trying not to think about how she would look spread out before him, ready and waiting and so willing to do anything he tells her. His cock swells at the mere thought of it all, and he knows the only way rest will come for him is if he carves himself out a shred of release. It won't be enough, but it'll be something. Snaking his hand down the front of his body, he palms the erection straining the crotch of his briefs.
“Fuck,” He breathes out and dips a hand beneath the elastic waistband to pump slowly along the length of his thick shaft.
His eyes fall shut as he pictures her before him; can practically see her arousal drip from her as she touches herself the way he wants her to- the way he knows will have her coming undone for him. Spitting into the palm of his hand, he continues working steadily along his cock. He swipes the rough pad of his thumb over his sensitive slit, swirling the pre-come around it and reveling in the feeling of it as it drips down the underside of his shaft. “Oh god,” He whines out into the still air before him while he shamelessly fucks his fist. He imagines her fucking herself on her fingers; imagines the filthy noises that fall from her lips the closer she gets to her rapture; imagines that he is the sole orchestrator of her pleasure and all of it is enough to get him there. His hips rut desperately into his tight fist, his head falls back against the pillow in unbridled ecstasy, and he comes hard all over himself, his lower abdomen painted with his hot, sticky seed.
Sleep descends on him heavily after that.
~
“Would you like to go for a drive with me?” It’s been over a week since he’d first thought of her, and he asks her on a whim because he knows if he doesn’t do it soon, he’ll regret it for a lifetime.
She looks hesitant; doesn’t know which angle he’s playing at which is fair, because he’s not entirely sure either. “A drive?” She asks, her head cocked to the side.
Rooster nods. “A drive. We can get drinks or food, whichever you prefer.”
So, she agrees. They drive to a local pizza joint, pick up a large ham and pineapple pie (though Rooster detests the ungodly yellow fruit) and park on a deserted end of beach, their legs hanging off the back end of Rooster’s 1975 Ford Bronco.
“I’m fairly certain I can do it.” He squints out at the setting orange sun as it sinks low over the Pacific Ocean before them.
She washes down the last bite of her pizza with a swig of beer from their shared bottle, her eyebrow quirked high in amusement. “Do what?” She asks, but the glint in her eyes tells him she knows exactly what he’s referring to.
Rooster turns to her, his jaw set. “Give you an orgasm.”
She shakes her head, folds her arms across her chest in defiance. “Believe me, Rooster. Many a brave soul have tried and failed before you. I reckon I may just be broken.”
He gives his head a half-shake. “You’re not broken.”
It’s certainly not your fault no one’s ever taken the time to learn your body.
“Can I tell you something?” She asks, her voice quiet.
Rooster nods.
“That night at the bar last week, when I so readily shared with everyone that I had never had one?”
Rooster nods again, encouragingly.
“I went home and I touched myself.” Her admission is so quiet, Rooster almost misses it.
He swallows hard- tries in vain to keep his voice level, even. “You touched yourself?”
She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth and nods her head. “I was thinking of you.”
It’s Rooster’s turn to bite his lip to keep from groaning out into the humid air before him, and his cock stirs in the crotch of his jeans. “What were you thinking about?”
Her cheeks redden in embarrassment and God, Rooster doesn’t know what to do with himself. “I was thinking about your fingers, your mouth, your cock. I was thinking about how good it would feel to finally be able to come for you.”
“Jesus,” Rooster breathes out. “Did you finish, sweetheart?”
“No.” She murmurs, her tone thick with disappointment.
He gives his head a half-shake, his hazel gaze sharp. “That just won’t do, will it?” Slipping off the edge of the truck, he turns to her, and the urge to reach out and touch her is almost too much to bear. “I want you to show me.”
Her eyes widen in surprise. “Excuse me?”
“I want you to show me the way you touched yourself.”
She glances around at the barren beach, silently weighing the pros and cons of his demand. “Right here?”
“Right here.” Rooster affirms.
Leaning back, she hikes the sundress she’s worn over the tops of her thighs and Rooster’s throat dries like sandpaper when he notices she’s forgone underwear for the evening. He watches with half-lidded eyes as she sucks two fingers into her mouth- gets them nice and slick with her spit, and then dances them slowly down the front of her body to her clit. Rooster braces his arms on either side of her legs and watches her work her magic. She starts off slow, by pressing firm, steady circles into her swollen bundle of nerves. Just as he had predicted over a week ago, her arousal nearly drips from her slit and he has to take a deep breath to center himself to keep from swiping a fingertip down the length of it. He just knows it tastes heavenly. His cock jumps at the mere thought of tasting her- and he doubts he’ll be able to put off touching himself for much longer.
“How does that feel, sweetheart?”
Her eyes flutter closed and all she can manage is a low, desperate mewl.
“You want more?” Rooster asks and all she can do is nod her head. “Give yourself more, then.”
She does as she’s told and inserts a finger into her hot, wet core, and it’s all Rooster can do to keep from groaning out, loudly. “Like this?” She gasps, and he nods above her in approval.
“Exactly like that, sweetheart. Keep going.”
“Wish it was your cock,” She whimpers, and Rooster swears to God, this is the sexiest thing he’s ever been privy to. Her words send what feels like every ounce of blood in his body to his dick, and he palms the front of his crotch, needily.
“It will be soon, baby. Just need to be patient. Need you to be a good girl and come for me.”
She inserts a second finger into herself and cries out at the full sensation, her other finger still pressing roving circles into her clit. Rooster peppers kisses over her the expanse of her exposed collarbone, encouraging her through it all. “That’s it, sweetheart. You’re doing so good. You keep going like this, and you and I’ll both be coming apart in no time.” It’s quiet while he studies her; the only audible noise between them are the obscene sounds her fingers make as she fucks herself with them, and the sweet moans that rip from her throat every couple of seconds. Rooster can feel her start to tremble beneath him; he watches her eyes widen as the realization becomes apparent to her. “That’s right, sweetheart. You’re so close,” Nodding in encouragement, he watches a thin sheen of perspiration bloom over her chest and neck, her lips part and her head drops back, and he doubts she’s ever looked more breathtaking. “Don’t stop now, you’re so close…” He whispers in earnest. “I’ll get you there, I promise.”
Her hands are all but frenzied movement now as she’s trembles violently beneath him and he presses his lips to her temple to keep her grounded to him. “Rooster,” She gasps. And he nods against her.
“If its time, let go. I’m right here, sweetheart.”
Her fingertips grasp at the impossibly hard, warm skin of his shoulder blades. She clasps on to him for dear life as pleasure blooms inside of her like fireworks on a warm July evening, and Rooster’s doesn’t know how much longer he’ll last like this. “Fuck, I’m going to come, Rooster.” She throws her head back and finishes hard around her fingers, her entire body quaking from the effort that took. Rooster holds her to him while she comes down from her high, her body entirely alive and electric with sheer energy.
“God, you did so good just now.” Rooster’s voice is hoarse and wrecked and thick with lust. “Look at you,” He whispers and presses a kiss to her flushed cheek. “How did that feel?”
She swallows hard, still in a bliss-induced trance. “I can’t believe it…”
Rooster chuckles against her. “You ready for one more?”
Before she can answer, he pulls her to the edge of the truck, dropping to his knees in the warm sand. His cock throbs uncomfortably and he brushes a rough palm over it to glean some form of friction. He hovers above her soaked entrance; the sheer, heady scent of her is nearly enough to have him coming in his jeans. He rubs the warm palms of his hands up and down the outside of her soft thighs and glances up at her. “May I show you another way?”
She nods wordlessly, with eyes half-lidded and blown over by hunger for him.
Rooster wants to take his time- wants to savour every single second of this in case it never happens again, but the urge to taste her is entirely overwhelming. He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to the velvet soft skin of her inner thighs and works his way up, the all-encompassing heat from her leaves him dizzy and breathless with want. He palms his erection, stroking it fervently through the fabric of his jeans and moans against her at the rough sensation of the denim on his sensitive skin.
“Are you touching yourself?” She asks, breathlessly.
Rooster swears to God, he feels her get a little more wet as he nods against her.
He licks a long, wet stripe up the length of her soaked slit with the flat of his tongue and nearly groans out at the taste of her. It’s an unendingly perfect combination of slightly salty and sweet, and he reckons he could get drunk off it if he had enough.
“Holy shit, Rooster.” She whimpers, and her fingers find purchase in his auburn hair.
He nods against her, and grazes his teeth over her swollen clit, earning him another obscenely sexy moan. “God, you taste good sweetheart.” He pulls away from her heat to tell her that, and his breath as it fans out over her warm wetness causes her to quake violently beneath him. He doesn’t allow her a moment of respite before he’s back at it, lapping at her folds like a she’s the most delicious treat on the planet. And to him, she is. His skilled fingertips dance along the length of her thighs, her hips, her ass. He wants to memorize every inch of her body that he can, lest he’s not lucky enough to experience her again.
“God damn it, you’re good at this Rooster.” She swears, and her thighs tighten involuntarily around his head. He grins against her, wickedly. Without warning, he inserts three thick fingers inside of her and the wonderfully full feeling they bring her causes her to cry out into the warm evening air before them. Rooster doesn’t give a flying fuck if anyone hears them at this point; they are exactly where they’re supposed to be. He could die doing this, and he would die a happy man. He fucks his fingers into her with reckless abandon; the first sign of her looming release is in the feeling of her clit against his tongue; how it swells and throbs the longer he sucks at it. “Oh, Rooster…” She keens, desperately. Her fingers tug at his hair, and the sharp burst of pain it brings him causes him to moan against her and the vibrations from that alone are all it takes before she’s falling off the precipice and into his willing arms. Rooster presses a free hand to her lower tummy as she spasms around the fingers still buried to the hilt inside of her and a flood of wetness bursts from her, soaking him and everything around them within a certain radius. Rooster's fingers fall from her, and she whimpers at the sudden loss of fullness. He rests his head in her lap, closing his eyes and trying to focus on regulating his breathing. He’s still so fucking hard right now, it’s a wonder he’s even upright at all.
“Jesus, Rooster, that was something else.” Her voice is raspy and shot from their recent activities and Rooster smiles softly as he listens to the fervent hammering of her heartbeat against the top of his head.
“Told you I could do it,” He laughs, breathlessly.
She giggles against him and his heart soars. “What about you, though?” She cards a hand through his damp hair.
“I’ll be alright.”
She shakes her head, her gaze knowing. “I want you, Rooster. And I’m going to have you.”
Of two things Rooster Bradshaw is absolutely certain: the first one is that he is helplessly in love with the woman beneath him. The second is that he doesn’t know when- and he doesn’t know how, but he is going to spend the rest of his life having her come apart for him like that.
2K notes · View notes
nat-ter · 3 months
Text
superbat fic idea: alternate first meeting(s). misunderstanding. before batman and superman meet officially, superman has met bruce wayne, batman has met clark kent and bruce wayne and clark kent sorta, kinda meet.
when superman first meets bruce wayne it's not at a gala. nor is it a rescue mission. at least not the heavy duty kind. superman does rescue bruce from a particularly hard wedgie. the thing is, superman finds bruce wayne hanging in mid air, off of a fire escape, where his underwear has wedge itself between a crack in the iron bars; in an unassuming alleyway where superman has flown in to change into his civillian identity. bruce wayne, prince of gotham, the billionaire playboy himself, immediately stops his fumbling to pull himself off and just stares at the superhero who's in the middle of pulling at the sleeve of his uniform to take it off.
"uhh," says superman eloquently who's thoroughly gobsmacked to see bruce wayne hanging off of a fire escape in metropolis. by his underwear nonetheless.
"hi," says bruce wayne, breathless and with a wave of his hand, who then immediately winces in pain when the movement of his hand sway him left and right and subsequently further hikes his underwear right up a place where no boxer briefs should ever go that deep.
"are you okay?" asks superman tentatively.
"you know what? not really." huffs bruce wayne in annoyance, red in the face. "can you help me down?"
when asked, bruce says that he was running from a group of fangirls and climbing up the fire escape to, well, escape them but then he fell off and got caught by his... well. he looks so embarrassed and superman is so uncomfortable that clark kent, investigative journalist, immediately believes it without a doubt.
a few weeks later clark kent meets batman at a gala in gotham which also happens to be the one taken over by a particularly pissed one poison ivy who is apparently set on testing out her new invention on gotham's finest. which just makes people very, very horny (she has only wanted to shame the rich who's been a pain in the ass for her dearest plants for her evening amusement, nothing more). it happens so fast even if superman happened to be there in his civillian identity he wouldn't get the chance to do anything without compromising his identity, never mind that everyone is going at it like crazed rabbits. not that superman is there, of course. so batman stands there, in the middle of the biggest orgy he has ever seen, face to face with a dorky man who wears an equally dorky glasses.
the thing is, the dorky man is previously engaged in an intense tug of war with two highclass women trying to get the bottom half of him naked. he's been pleading with his whole body for the women to stop trying to pull his underwear down which is currently tethering on getting completely ruined to shred and is also the only thing standing between his dignity and the whole world (or room). but when batman comes crashing in the man is so startled to see the dark knight so suddenly and up close he's gone completely lax and the next second the two women managed to pull the offending cloth down his thighs to pool at his ankles along with his slacks, the man himself gaping like a fish. batman doesn't know what wakes him from the trance but maybe it has something to do with the limp dick swaying left and right in front of him. after that everything goes to shit and there isn't really a time to ask questions about why clark kent, according to his press badge he's still wearing around his neck, looks way too lucid for someone who's supposed to be under poison ivy's influence. perhaps unceremoniously seeing a man's dick will do that to you.
the first time bruce wayne and clark kent officially met, the two men still vividly remember what they have seen of the other with their alter ego, they couldn't even look each other in the eye and avoid each other for the entire evening. bruce wayne is by no means a prude and while he has seen his fair share of dicks, he doesn't think it's fair to subject clark kent to stare at the face of a man (bat. wtv) who has rescued him and subsequently seen his dick without the man having no clue. and it's not that clark kent is exactly unfamiliar with uncomfortable situations, after all it comes with the whole hero schtick, but while he maybe be a nigh invincible superhero, he's still human (loosely speaking) and there's only so much he can do before bursting out into a completely inappropriate laughter right in the face of a man who doesn't even know that the fumbling reporter is the one who helped soothe the cloth burn on his ass not long ago.
superman avoids batman because the man has seen his dick for pete's sake even if he doesn't know that clark kent is superman and there's no way clark can look at him in the eye and pretend that that didn't happen. batman avoids superman because you don't just recover from a god seeing you giving yourself a wedgie even if it was completely an accident and it doesn't really matter that said god doesn't know that the man he's seen at one of his lowest (bruce has many) is the batman.
except two is always better than one when it comes to the threat of the world at large and you can bet your pretty ass the interaction is as stilted and awkward as you can imagine.
123 notes · View notes
nelkcats · 1 year
Text
Past Errors
While traveling through Amity Park, Jason was arguing with Bruce and said the forbidden word in the city "Since you didn't save me, I wish I could travel back in time to save myself!", this was unfortunately overheard by Desiree, who fulfilled his wish and made him travel in time.
The only problem was that instead of waking up in his child body as expected, he woke up as a Lasiurus bat, and how was he going to save himself like that?!? The little Jay was staring at him and he had no idea how to help him, Jason felt helpless and powerless.
On the other hand, in the original timeline Jason's audio had gone silence. Bruce was worried, Jason usually hung up the calls not just disappeared. And no matter how angry he was, he would not stop communicating with his siblings because of him.
When Bruce went to investigate the last place his son was, all that was left was Jason's motorcycle crashed in the middle of the road and without trace of the boy, it seemed the vehicle had exploded, Jason helmet and clothes were completely burned in the place where he should be.
Fearing the worst Bruce began to investigate, but he would have noticed if Jason had been kidnapped (or his body was). Had he lost Jason over an stupid argument again? His fears multiplied as he remembered the way he had lost him the first time, and the start was not much different.
Unknowingly, Jason was stuck in the past, with his family thinking that he had died a second time in the future.
457 notes · View notes
geraldmariaivo · 11 months
Text
Not sure if this is a thing already, but…what if Danny gets unofficially adopted by Batman, and he’s ok with that? 
It’d probably be post reveal-gone-wrong or something, but i could also see it just being Jack and Maddie taking the family on trip to Gotham for the summer. Tbh my favorite version of this is within the first full year of him being Phantom, so he’s still getting new powers and stuff every now and then, and hasn’t really gotten all this vigilante stuff down to a science yet. Either way, Danny is trying to stay under the bats’ radar, (and also avoid his friends’ jokes about being adopted by Bruce Wayne becoming reality) but, well..
Danny “what even is my luck” Fenton can’t seem to keep out of the weird shit that happens in Gotham, and doesn’t realize that slipping out of the rogue’s traps isn’t something normal enough to be unnoticed by the bats. Maybe it’s the aftermath of a Scarecrow fight, and Danny stayed intangible for as long as he could, probably occasionally dropping it every now and then because he’s not really thinking, and it takes effort to be intangible like that. Either way, Batman eventually comes upon him while distributing the antivenom or whatever for the fear gas, and comes across this meta child who’s kinda aware, but seems to keep density shifting and makes it impossible to give the cure to, in the way that someone who’s afraid of needles might squirm when they’re getting a shot. 
So he just sort of sits there and holds out his arm, and eventually the kid catches on. He grabs on and grips as hard as he can. Batman, slowly, broadcasting his movements, takes his other hand, and puts it to his own chest. He breathes in, holds, and breathes out. In, hold, out. It only takes the kid a minute or two of the kid copying his breathing to calm down enough to thank him, likely due to a boosted metabolism or some other mechanism for his body to deal with toxins. It took another second for the kid to visibly realize that Batman saw him go intangible, and quickly rush out “please don’t tell anyone Mr. Batman”s and “I know there’s a no-meta rule in Gotham, but I’m not staying here full-time.”
Batman just silently nods.
Much to both of their dismay, this keeps happening.  Poison Ivy attacks? Danny is there, getting people unstuck from vines or sap or whatever she used to trap them because he can’t not help when he’s right there.  Mad Hatter is mind-controlling people? Overshadow him into disabling it, or just fuck with the electronics invisibly.
Riddler is on the attack? Just wiggle in your ropes while his henchmen are setting things up, so as to make it look like you’re really skilled at escaping instead of becoming intangible. Might as well “untie” your fellow hostages, knock out a few henchmen while you’re at it.
These things keep happening, and Danny is actually feeling refreshed. He’s not doing most of the work here, the bats are. He’s just helping out on the side, is all. He’s not waking up at night to fight someone all the time, the bats already have nightshift covered to hell and back. And while constantly coming across Batman isn’t exactly ideal, the man hasn’t tried to drive him out of the city, which is probably as close to a “you can stay” as he’ll ever get, considering that the man hasn’t said so much as a word to him.
Danny’s also pretty sure that the man wouldn’t give him food every time they encounter each other if he wasn’t ok with him. And holy shit, isn’t that something? Edible food that isn’t fudge from an adult with no obligation to him.
Meanwhile, on Bruce’s side, this random meta kid just keeps on showing up at nearly every other rogue attack. Sure it’s been a slow week, but this is ridiculous. He also needs to restock on nutrient bars. They’re don’t taste the best, but between Red Robin forgetting to eat before he hits the rooftops, and the rampant child hunger in many of the poorer areas (he needs to look into his funds for school breakfast and lunch programs again, see if there’s some more wiggle room he can work with), he keeps several on him, just in case.
And if the speed the meta kid seemed to process Crane’s fear gas was any indication, he probably wasn’t eating enough for his boosted metabolism. So he kept a few more on him.
One time, he came in a bit too late, and caught the tail end of the kid bashing Condiment King in the face, -no powers, just a metal folding chair- while griping about how the man had ruined his lunch, and how now he had to eat at home and he was tired and didn’t want to fight his lunch today, because he’s had to do it for the last two days. And then (sloppily) kicking him in the ribs. Of course he had to come in to end the fight, but more than he was concerned about Condiment King, he was worried about the kid. Fighting took energy that the kid was having a hard time replacing as it was, and what’s worse is that the kid’s parents seem to make him hunt his own food. And there aren’t many animals in Gotham other than stray cats, raccoons, and rats. Danny, naturally, is surprised when, instead of being scolded for fighting a rogue on his turf, Batman gives him a handful of those not-granola bars, and two hundred dollars cash. He also wasn’t expecting Batman’s first words to him to be “Go to the corner of Pacific Circle and Evergreen boulevard, they have more nutrient bars for metas there,” but he’ll take what he can get.
And the pat on the head was nice. It was soft, and he saw it coming, and it didn’t knock the wind out of his lungs like his dad’s hugs and back-slaps did. It was nice, and no, Jazz, he was not forming a parasocial relationship with Batman of all people. He was just someone who gave him food and cash, that’s it. It still felt really nice for someone to care about what he needed to eat, though.
He does go to the specified store and get a bunch of different nutrient bars, and makes sure to store them where they won’t come to life. It helps more than he thought it would.
As is her duty, Babs teases the hell out of Bruce for being soft on this one random black-haired, blue-eyed meta kid. You gave him a head pat. A head pat, Bruce. Try not to break out the bat-adoption papers. 
263 notes · View notes
Text
Batfam Napping HC
requested?: No
HC: How does the Batfamily nap?
I had a very good nap today and it sorta inspired me so here we go!
Bruce takes "im just gonna rest my eyes for a second" naps. He sometimes dozes off in the office chair in front of the Batcomputer with his head tilted back. He totally snores. He will also sometimes fall asleep in WE meetings (this one is canon).
Dick can sleep anywhere and everywhere. Couch, bed, car, sitting in a chair, standing or hanging upside down. When he was younger he used to sometimes nap during the galas Bruce took him to. He would just stretch out over two, as he grew three chairs he moved together and sleep until they would go home.
Jason naps curled up because it reliefs his backpain. It is not as bad as it used to be when he first got free from the Joker, it got better when he started healing, but being Red Hood is exhausting and some days are just bad days. The napping mostly happens on accident, he just wants some pain relief for a few moments and suddenly he is out like a light.
Tim is chronically tired, we all know that. Sometimes he falls asleep at his desk either in the cave or at WE. Dick normally wakes him up or carries him to bed. Sometimes, when Dick spots Tim getting tired he gives him some headpats, some nice words and finally gets him to lay down with him. Dick and Tim like to cuddle, both of them are touch-starved as hell and they fight it off together. They can occassionally be spotted in either Dick's or Tim's room, Tim laying down on his older brother with his head tucked under Dick's chin. Their naps sometimes extend over multiple hours.
Damian sometimes naps in the barn with Batcow. He leans against her warm body and sometimes Alfred the Cat sleeps on his lap or Titus and Ace lay down with him. Damian gets very calm in the presence of animals and because the barn is a little away from the Manor, noone really ever caught him sleeping there. Only Alfred caught him once, he took a picture of it and keeps the moment treasured.
Babs has a couch in the Belfry right under the clock face where the sun shines through the stained glass lightly. She isn't bothered by light so she likes to nap while the sun warms her body. She thinks that warm sunlight is the ultimate weapon against deep aching cold in her bones. It is her treasured place.
Steph is a sucker for car naps. She sleeps best when she sits in the passenger seat of a car with someone trusted driving. When she still was Robin she used to fall asleep in the Batmobile after patrol sometimes. Batman never admitted it but it made him quiet emotional that Steph trusted him enough to sleep near him.
Cass, in general, only sleeps in her room with the door locked and the curtains closed. She naps the same way she sleeps, she needs the safety of her room. She sleeps on her back with her hands over the blanket or without a blanket at all. It's a habit from her assassin training that she can't quiet get rid off. She also puts a timer on 20 minutes because that is appareantly the optimal length for a nap. She sleeps through the alarm at least half of the time.
Duke is basically the only one that is not afraid to sleep in front of the rest off the family. One of the perks of joining the family late, is that they figured themselves out more or less so nothing bad happened between them (yet). Duke sometimes naps when he overused his powers and needs a quick energy refill. He mostly naps sitting up on a couch with his arms crossed on the backrest and his head resting on his arms. The rest of the family is always surprised if they find him sleeping just in front of everyone.
84 notes · View notes
Note
What do you think would make Jason snap? Like if Darling is being especially defiant, what's the worst thing he would do? I can't imagine him actually physically hurting them but I guess sedation or tying them up wouldn't be off the table
The easy answer would be to trigger his PTSD with a sudden movement at just the wrong time, but another way to make him snap is to intentionally hit him where it really hurts. Tell him that you wish he'd died in the Asylum so he'd never become this twisted, that he IS a lost cause and Bruce was right, etc. That level of venom from the person he cherishes most would kill him
But you're right that simply defying him all the time will make him snap as well. We saw how he easily subdued Barbara, but with you he's also trying his best to hold back to avoid hurting you on accident. But if you're constantly trying to hide, fight, or escape, he'll get frustrated and grab you in a restraining hold that hurts like hell to keep you compliant.
Or he'll drag you from your hiding spot and grab your shoulders while he breaks down, screaming for you to just STOP, goddammit. He's doing this to keep you safe! Do you want to be in Gotham when it's covered in fear toxin, killer plants, and every criminal running amok? Do you want to get tortured, raped, burned, drowned, and/or skinned alive by those groups of unhinged degenerates? What does he have to do to get you to understand that you need to stay with him!?
Once he realizes he's hurting you from gripping your body or from the restraining hold, he freezes and makes a split second decision to sedate Darling. He just doesn't want you to fight him anymore. Once he's got you back to his quarters, he's holding onto your unconscious body and sobbing, ranting, begging you to understand.
He'd try to keep you sedated at a safe level of meds if he thinks you'll try to escape again. It's just until Bruce is dead and the plan is carried out. Then he can take you somewhere with more freedom to move around, more safe, and where he can have his mind off of something besides revenge.
And once you wake up after that first drugging, he's doing anything he can to spoil you from the confines of a military hideout. Anything you want, he's getting it to you somehow. He's brought some of your things from your apartment, he's impersonated you to your family and loved ones so they don't worry as much about your lack of communication, etc. And he hates himself for hurting you when he promised to protect you.
118 notes · View notes
minty364 · 5 months
Text
DPXDC Prompt #98
Danny had a pretty shit life. He was adopted at age 8 after Ra’s slit his throat and his mother threw him into the lazurus pit at the last second. His adopted mom Maddie liked ghosts way more than his adopted dad Jack thought she did. So when Vlad revealed he was half ghost she left Jack for him. Jack in his grief of losing his wife swears all ghosts to be evil especially Vlad. Danny does his best to hide everything from his dad but Jack has started to notice that Danny has some odd behavior from time to time.
Jack decides it’s time for him and his son to leave Amity Park for a while and head to the only other city that they were considering moving too because of the ambient ectoplasm. An invention goes wrong shortly after they move into their apartment and Danny finds himself switching bodies with his twin.
Waking up in Wayne manor was a shock for Danny he didn’t know his brother got adopted by Bruce Wayne, he’s got to sneak out of here and make it back to the apartment as soon as he can so he can switch them back he just hopes his twin won’t assume the worst with his dad.
Waking up in his supposed long dead twins body was a shock for Damian, but apparently he wasn’t at least that’s how he felt when he first woke up but their were several things going on here that didn’t make sense about his twins body. For one his body temperature was way lower than it should be, Damian didn’t need to breathe as much, and it seemed his twin somehow despite not carrying the meta gene developed powers that he very much had difficulty controlling. He’s got to get to his twin he assumes is probably also very confused at the moment.
144 notes · View notes
Christmas Movie Night- B.Barnes
Summary: A Christmas movie night for the Avengers, Y/N and Bucky get cozy on the couch.
Pairings: Bucky x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Use of Y/N, female reader, mentions of food, mentions of alcohol, (please let me know if I missed any)
Author's Note: I know I am very behind on the fics for December, thankfully this week is the last of the semester so hopefully I will be able to put out the fics I'm behind on and catch up. My asks are open so feel free to send is questions, suggestions and feedback. To all of the college students who are taking finals this week, good luck! You will do great!
My full Masterlist
Word Count: 764
Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!
Enjoy Reading!
When Bucky first moved into the compound, the team decided to have weekly movie nights to catch him and Steve up on modern film. Every week someone on the team would pick a couple movies, everyone would bring something to movie nights whether it was blankets, pillows, snacks, or drinks. This week was Christmas movies, more specifically, modern Christmas movies. It was Y/N’s turn to pick movies so she picked How the Grinch Stole Christmas and Elf. She thought that Bucky might enjoy them but she honestly just loved the two films. 
Everyone was settled around the large screen, settled on couches, chairs, the floor, some were cozied up to one another, others just sat by themselves. Bucky always sat between Steve and Y/N, she almost always ended up cuddled into his side. During movie nights, there were a few people on the team that fell asleep almost every time; Clint, Thor, Bruce and on some occasions Steve. There were also ones that almost never fell asleep during movie night; Y/N, Bucky, Sam, Tony and Peter to name a few.
With it being close to Christmas the snacks were a variety of cookies, the classic popcorn, some chocolate covered pretzels and a few others. The drinks were a mix of alcoholic and non-alcoholic(for Peter), of course there was spiked and normal hot chocolate, candy cane martinis, eggnog and a spiked Christmas punch made by Natasha. Everyone settled in with their drinks and snacks before the first movie had started. As the beginning of the Grinch started, Y/N felt her eyes starting to droop, her exhaustion catching up with her.
She had just gotten back from a mission only a few hours before movie night started, she had time to shower and debrief but she hadn’t gotten time to rest. Her head fell right onto Bucky’s right shoulder. He glanced to his right to find her fighting sleep on his shoulder.
“Lay down, sweetheart. Lay your head down on my lap,” Bucky whispered to her. She hummed and picked her head up for a moment.
“You sure?” She whispered back. Instead of verbally responding, he just nodded. So she laid herself down, curled up, resting her head on his lap. Bucky had grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch they were on and draped it over her curled up body.
As she was starting to doze off, she felt a warm hand stroking her cheek gently. The touch was feather-light, barely there, but she felt it and she knew that it was Bucky. She was fast asleep not much longer after the soothing touch had started. She stayed asleep throughout the whole entire movie and well into the second before she started to wake. Bucky’s hand had migrated from her cheek to her arm, where his thumb traced thoughtless patterns. When she opened her eyes, she noticed that Steve had moved his seat to sit next to Nat. Bucky was the only one to take notice that she was awake, he was the only one that even knew that she was asleep.
“Buck,” She whispered, catching his attention, “Lay with me?”
“Course, gorgeous,” Bucky replied in the same tone. 
Now the two of them were laid on the couch, Bucky laying on his back, his head turned towards the tv and Y/N who was laying on her side, sandwiched between the back of the couch and Bucky, her head resting on his chest. Bucky’s vibranium arm protectively holding her, his hand rubbing across her back soothingly. It didn’t take her much longer to fall back asleep. Instead of watching the movie, he watched her, the way her nose twitched, the way her eyelashes sat on her cheeks, and the way her lips would twitch into a slight smile whenever his hand passed a certain place on her back. 
Once the movie was over and the lights were back on, the members of the team that were still awake had taken notice to pair. Before they could even start ruthlessly teasing them, Bucky was quick to shut them up.
“If any of you wake her I will kill you with zero hesitation,” Bucky threatened in a whisper. The team backed off, deciding that cleaning up was a great idea.
The room was almost empty, only Steve, Bucky and Y/N remained. Steve just smiled at the pair on the couch, taking note of the protective hold Bucky had on her. “She’s good for you,” Steve said nonchalantly.
“She really is,” Bucky replied, a rare smile gracing his face.
430 notes · View notes
cablecar-s · 18 days
Text
to love and self loathe
Note :
I also have an AO3 if you guys wanted to check it out 👉👈. It's just tlsl again (it's like two chapters ahead but I plan to post the rest of the chapters here too, just thought I would share it somewhere else :]).
Reblogs and likes help a lot as well! Enjoy reading!
Part 1
And Make It Double
Jason wasn't fond of going to the Batcave often. Hell he didn't like going to Wayne Manor at all. It only meant that he had to see the others. Even though he was able to reconcile with everyone, it didn't mean that it wasn't still awkward to interact with them all. 
But whatever it was that he found in that alleyway couldn't be ignored. So, instead of heading to the batcave where he has to face everyone, he instead links his comms with Barbara.
"You there Oracle?" His voice, distorted from the voice modulator installed in his helmet called out.
"Oracle here, need something Red Hood?" Her voice called back. 
A hint of a smile appeared on his lips, a bit of nostalgia and reminiscence washing over him for a moment.
"I have a bit of a problem here." Jason looked over at the knocked out men, strung together with the mysterious webs.
"Do you need backup?" She questioned.
He shook his head, though she couldn't see it. "No, just a concern if anything. Found a few guys strung together what seemed to be.. Spider webs? I don't fuckin' know." 
It went quiet for a moment, Jason looking around, making sure no one was going to jump him. 
"Found something." She hummed, earning Jason's attention. "Couldn't find anything spider related in Gotham, but there's a vigilante in New York that goes by Spider-Woman, could be that."
The second Robin's brows furrowed. "The hell is she doing in Gotham?" 
"No clue, but reading through the latest news it says that she's been gone for a few months already, after defeating some guy named Green Goblin." Her eyes quickly skimmed through the article.
"Is she trouble?" He questions, his attention being pulled towards one of the men who were beginning to wake up.
"The Daily Bugle says she is.." She trailed. "Though from other sources people are calling her a hero. Lot of mixed opinions about her from New Yorkers. She's done nothing bad though." 
Jason only hummed, taking his gun out before hitting the waking criminal in the back of his head with the butt of his gun, knocking the guy out once more.
"No crimes or anything? What about suspicious movements before her disappearance?" He asked further.
Barbara let out a small hum. "Nope. She had been terrorizing a few criminals who all had similar characteristics for some time, but that was in the beginning of her first appearance. And after she defeated the Green Goblin she disappeared after that night."
"Revenge." Jason thought out loud to himself, that was the only conclusion he could come to. "Think she came to Gotham to see if she could find the guy here?" 
"Doubt it. It's been a few years already, I'm sure she's over it by now."
Jason also doubted that she was over it, he would know; he was dead set on revenge for seven years. A grimace appeared on his face, seeming to stare into nothingness, remembering how he was before he was barely able to reconcile with Bruce and the others.
"You still there Red Hood?" Barbara called out, breaking him out of his small trance.
"Uh, yeah, sorry, just thinking." He muttered. "Call GCPD over to pick these guys up. They're in one of the alleys on 41st street."
"On it." 
Taking out his grappling hook, Jason flew off into the night, still linked with Barbara. 
"What do you want to do with Spider-Woman?"
"Lets keep an eye out for her, we still don't know her motives for coming to Gotham." Jason swung from building to building, beginning to feel water droplets fall on his body, the rain of Gotham finally coming for the night.
"Alright, I'll notify the others about her now."
"Sounds good, thanks Oracle." He perched himself on one of the gargoyles that were built on one of the many buildings of Gotham, about to hang up til—
"Hey Jace." Barbara called out softly.
Oh god. Jason already knew what Barbara was going to ask him, it made his throat close up a bit, his heart rate beginning to pick up.
"Ye-ah?" 
Of course his voice had to fucking crack.
"Will you be coming to the mansion to celebrate Damian's birthday next week?"
Jason stayed silent for a moment. Of course he was going to go, he had already bought the demon brat's present a few days ago, it was just a matter of gaining the confidence to step foot in Wayne Manor.
"Still there Jason?" She called out. 
Crap he took too long. 
"Oh, yeah. Yeah I'll– I'll be coming." He cleared his throat, his eyes scanning into the streets of Crime Alley. 
"Okay, just double checking." He could hear the smile in her voice. "Everyone'll be excited to see you, don't sweat it." She assured him. "Need anything else before I go back to the others?" 
He swallowed hard, trying to retain whatever cool he had left. "No, I'm fine."
"Alright, Oracle out." 
Her voice crackled before leaving the line, which left Jason alone with his thoughts.
God he was so not ready for next week
---
The next night, Jason had kept a sharp eye out for this Spider-Woman Barbara had told him about. He'd done a bit of digging himself. He watched a few videos that a few civilians had taken of her. He studied her fighting style, what she looked like. 
Of course, he tried to find out who this Spider-Woman was in the first place, but it seemed no one had any clues as to who she was. 
It's fine though. It's not like Jason was actively searching as to who she was, he just needed to make sure she stayed out of his way, out of Gotham's business.
Swinging from building to building once more, Jason kept his eyes on the alleys and small streets before deciding to land on the roof of a building. His boots crunched under the gravel when landing, a more softer crunch sounding behind him.
"Todd." The young voice called out.
A voice he knew all too well.
"Demon bird." Jason greeted. 
"I am told that you will be making it to the gathering." Damian stood next to his older brother, looking down at the city with him.
"If you mean your birthday party then yeah." The second Robin couldn't help but roll his eyes a bit. "Just not the big one B will be holding. Y'know, still dead and stuff." 
The youngest Robin could only suck his teeth. "Not like you were needed there anyways." He muttered.
Jason glanced over at the pre-teen, a small smile on his lips as he brought his hand up to ruffle his hair. He could spot his tough guy act from miles away, he and Damian were two sides of the same coin after all. 
"Sorry, someone's gotta keep Gotham safe while all the bats and birds are out partying for the night." He chuckled.
Damian only swatted at Jason's hand, grumbling to himself. 
"I do not care if you come or not." He muttered.
Jason couldn't help but smile slightly at this, pulling his hand back.
"Whatever you say."
Damian opened his mouth, ready to make a retort, but he only sucked his teeth once more, his hand going up to his ear.
"Robin present."
There was a brief silence, the young Robin seeming to be listening to what was being said to him. "Understood." He muttered.
"I am needed at a warehouse." He looked up at his older brother who only nodded, seeming looking down at the streets.
"Alright. See you later." Jason's eyes were glued on a woman who seemed to be in a hurry, a few plastic bags hanging from her arms. From afar, he saw a few men stalking her a few feet away.
He began to make his way down to her, standing behind her in the shadows. She didn't seem to have noticed him just yet, seeming distracted with trying to take a picture of the Robin flying above her.
Though as she takes a step back and bumps into his chest, she slowly turned around, taking notice of the vigilante that towered over her.
Jason squinted his eyes behind his helmet as her phone let out a soft click and the flash had gone off.
His helmet scanned her body, a small box popping at the top right, showing him that her heart rate had slightly quickened, not surprising.
"You do know you make a pretty easy target with all those bags you're holding." He spoke, his voice distorted as usual.
"Good thing I was making my way home then." She chuckled nervously. 
She had stared at where his eyes were supposed to be, only to then look away, her heart rate rising even more.
"I'll go with you then, unless you want them to take you instead." He nodded his head behind her, making her turn her head and see the men.
Jason took a step into the dim street lighting and stared straight at them, making the men quickly scatter, not wanting to be involved with the infamous Red Hood.
"Oh uh, no that won't be necessary." She let out another nervous laugh. "My apartment isn't that far from here and uh..." She glanced up at the Red Hood before quickly looking away, intimidated by his large build and towering body.
It was quiet, Jason staring her down. He couldn't lie she was acting a bit suspicious, though then again it could be her being frightened since it was Red Hood who was standing in front of her.
"You're not serious are you?" He finally spoke out. "Gotham's filled with criminals, and no offense, I'm sure you're capable of defending yourself, but you're a woman. You're better off with me walking you home." He crossed his arms, shifting his weight onto one leg.
He was right. Although she could handle a few thugs, she didn't bring her web shooters with her this time. If any of them decided to pull a gun on her, it was most likely over.
The secret vigilante stayed quiet, biting the inside of her cheek, trying to think of something else to say, just so she didn't have to interact anymore with the more scarier of vigilantes she's looked up. 
"Uh well.." She cleared her throat, looking up at him, trying her best to calm her racing heart, her senses heightening from her anxiety. 
She thought hard, looking at the man who stared at her, waiting for a reply from her. Her brain did it's hardest to rack something up, until she remembered all the news she's read about him.
Bingo.
"Wouldn't it be more dangerous if you were to walk with me?" She questioned, giving him an innocent smile.
He tilted his head a bit at this. "Is that so?"
The spider quickly nodded, her smile ever growing a tiny bit more larger at her quick thinking. "If you think about it, if people on the street were to see you walking me to my apartment wouldn't that technically endanger me even more? Since, y'know, you are the big bad Red Hood. I'm sure you have plenty of enemies that want your head."
Her hands moved around a bit as she talked, Jason only watching and listening to her ramble in slight amusement.
"And if they were to see you walking me home then they can only think that I'm some sort of weakness for you, which, I'm really not but hey they don't know." She chuckled, looking up at him.
Her long pause made the air almost seem a bit awkward for her, making her shift a bit. Letting out another laugh, she cleared her throat once more, straightening her posture a bit.
"So.. Thank you, truly. But I think I'll be just fine going home without an escort." She smiled, trying not to squirm under his gaze.
"Alright." He hummed, setting his hands on his waist. 
She blinked, looking a bit baffled. "Really?" She sputtered, before quickly changing her expression, the tone of her voice changing as well. "I mean– Of course! It's only right that you—"
"I'll just watch you from the rooftops instead."
"I'm sorry?"
A distorted huff of amusement filled her ears as the two vigilantes stared at each other. 
"You're right that me walking you home would only but yourself in more danger, but leaving you to go home by yourself also puts you at risk still, so," Jason grabbed his grapple from his utility belt. 
"I'll escort you from afar." 
Jason's amusement only rose as he watched the woman open and close her mouth, trying to form words or another excuse as to why he shouldn't do that.
Seeing as how she wasn't able to come up with anything else, a low and short chuckle left his mouth.
"Well lets get going then. The faster you start walking the faster you'll be out of danger." He pointed his grapple at a building, his finger beginning to press the trigger.
"You really don't—" But he was already flying into the air and back into the shadows. 
She could only watch in disbelief, staring in the direction that he had flown off to. If she squinted hard enough, she could somewhat see his silhouette perched on a rooftop. 
She strained to see him wave a hand at her, most likely motioning her to get back to her apartment. Letting out a small huff of irritation, she began to walk into the direction of her apartment, muttering under her breath.
It was total silence while walking back to her apartment. Although she would spot a few thugs eyeing her from alleys, once they heard the sound of a grapple and a shadow passing over them, they quickly minded their business, as if she wasn't there.
The woman was thankful to say the least, especially since she was able to get herself out of a situation that may have ended up in her having a brawl with the vigilante. Just looking at him made her entire body ache. 
Even if that radioactive spider had increased all her senses and strength, she was sure that man could pummel her into the ground without having to do much.
Continuing to walk through the dimly lit streets, she soon made it to her apartment building, relief flooding in her body that she was finally home. Before entering the building, she looked over her shoulder, her eyes scanning the shadows, trying to see if she could spot the Red Hood.
Surprisingly, for a big guy who had a helmet that was completely red, he was good at hiding in the darkness. 
Giving up in her search in finding him, she made her way inside, the warm air from the heater engulfing her body once entering. 
Off in the distance, Jason watched as the woman made her way inside. With crossed arms, he watched all of the windows of the building, waiting patiently until he noticed one of them had lit up.
Letting out a short hum, he jumped off the roof, grappling to the next one and so forth, continuing his night patrol.
---
Jason quickly put his jacket on, not caring if his hair was still a bit wet. Grabbing his keys he had tossed onto the coffee table, he scooped his helmet into his arms before roughly shoving it onto his head. Slamming the door that led to the garage of his safe house, he pressed a simple button that made it creak and groan as it lifted itself off of the ground.
Getting on his bike, the two wheeler roared to life, the sounds echoing in the garage as he sped out, the doors slamming itself shut once Jason was out. Speeding through the streets, passing by cars at a speed too fast, Jason had hoped that he wouldn't be too late for the brat's formal birthday.
Jason wasn't fond of any of the parties that Bruce either attended or hosted. The room that it was being held in always reeked of tacky perfume and cologne, just like every person there trying to please Bruce.
A bunch of ass kissers that irritated Jason. He was sure Damian thought the same, so he thought making a small appearance would make it slightly better, even if it costed him drowning in old lady perfumes.
When he had made it to the Batcave and tried to sneak his way through the halls of the manor, he had a small run in with his favorite, and only, butler. After a small catch up, and a bit of coaxing from the butler, Jason ended up having to attend the party without his gun.
Taking a deep breath, Jason entered the ballroom having to squeeze his way through a few people in order to make himself comfortable in a corner.
With his back leaning against the wall, he crossed his arms and scanned the room before it landed on Damian; his cheeks were currently being pinched and pulled at by a few elderly ladies. 
Jason couldn't help but slightly snort at the scene, amused at how deadly a glare Damian was giving them when they looked away from him.
"Jaybird!"
Jason's smile instantly disappeared at the resounding voice of his older brother. A bright smile on his face, he waved at the second Robin, having grabbed to champagne glasses on his way over to him.
People glanced at Dick, whispering to one another about the eldest, their eyes soon dragging over to Jason who shifted uncomfortably.
Just fucking great.
"I see you were able to make it." Dick grinned, lending out the other glass of alcohol to him. Jason only snatched it from him, letting out a small grumble while taking a small sip.
"And I'm starting to regret it." He grimaced.
The first Robin only chuckled at this, taking his own sip from his glass. "You see Damian yet?" He questioned, eyes staring out into the crowd to find the youngest.
"I was, but then I saw that he was a bit busy so I decided to leave him be." He hummed.
Once finding Damian, Dick couldn't help but snicker a bit now knowing what Jason meant. "He is the star of the show." He mused. "Hey, you don't think—"
BOOM!
"No one make any sudden moves! Or the brat gets it!" 
part 1
next chapter ->
28 notes · View notes
Text
Phantom Grin
Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam
Summary: Bruce Wayne visits his son's grave on the night of his resurrection. Will it change Jason's fate, or is it all simply inevitable?
Chapters: 1/?
Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Alfred Pennyworth, Barbara Gordon, Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain
Relationship(s): Jason Todd/Original Character
Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Jason Todd Has Chronic Pain, Jason Todd is Disabled, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Resurrected Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne Get Along
Chapter One: Moonlight Promise
It'd been nearly ten months since the night Jason dug himself out of his own grave. Bruce sat by Jason's bedside, reading to him. Most days, Bruce read to him. When some of Jason's broken bones healed up, Bruce would hold his hand. He tried not to think too hard about the night it happened. The thought of Jason's broken body reaching out to him from the grave made his stomach turn. "I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way," Bruce read in a soft voice. Bruce listened carefully to the rhythm of the machines, making sure Jason's vitals were in order. Jason's heart rate often slowed depending on what Bruce read to him. He could tell that Jason loved poetry, or at least he thought Jason did.
Bruce squeezed Jason's hand gently. "Jason, I have to go earlier today," Bruce whispered, "But we'll finish The Highwayman when I come back. And I'll tell you about Clark's visit... Maybe when I come back, you can—." Bruce's phone rang, and he sighed. "Jason, I promise I'll make things up to you." He stood up and rested a gentle hand on Jason's forehead.
His phone continued to ring, and Jason opened his eyes. Bruce froze. "Jason?" he asked. Jason kept his eyes open for a few breaths before closing them once more. Bruce sat back down and brushed a knuckle against Jason's cheek. "Attaboy," Bruce whispered gently.
Bruce's phone rang again. "I'm not going anywhere... I'm just gonna answer this," Bruce whispered.
He answered the phone, and Dick immediately started apologizing. "I know you asked me not to call—."
"He opened his eyes... Just for a second," Bruce interrupted.
Dick didn't reply immediately. Instead, he made a soft noise. "Do you-. Did it seem like—?" Dick couldn't find the words.
Bruce sat with the phone between his ear and his shoulder. He squeezed Jason's hand. "He's never done it before. He opened his eyes and—. It was like he was trying to wake up," Bruce whispered, "Do you want to speak to him?"
Dick took a deep breath. "Put me on speaker," Dick whispered.
"Jason, I'm putting Dick on speaker," Bruce whispered. He let go of Jason's hand and set the phone on Jason's bedside.
"Good morning, Jason," Dick whispered, "I'm gonna come and see you pretty soon. I might get you something new to listen to. I know your birthday's coming up in August." Jason lay there, his eyes closed, and Bruce moved Jason's bangs out of his face. He didn't want to cut Jason's hair, not yet. In the months since Jason's resurrection, his height and hair were the only things that changed. It was the only way he could cope with the thought of Jason's condition.
Bruce stayed for an hour more and left in time for sundown. He'd be back later that night, but not as Bruce Wayne. Bruce always came at night in the middle of his patrol to make sure Jason didn't suddenly awaken in the night. He even hid motion sensors around Jason's hospital bed so that he'd know the comings and goings of the nurses. Leaving Jason was always hard. In the days following the incident where Jason first opened his eyes, Bruce started to see more and more movement in Jason. Sometimes Jason would open his eyes, other times, Jason would involuntarily grin when Bruce would touch his face. By the end of the year, Jason started responding to simple commands.
One afternoon, Bruce sat in the manor, eating dinner and talking to Dick. "He's gonna wake up any day now," Bruce whispered.
"And what are you gonna do about Tim?" Dick asked.
"Tim can have whatever he wants. He can be whatever he wants... Once Jason's able to come home," Bruce paused for a moment, "Jason'll need my full attention." He picked over his dinner.
Dick looked at him and furrowed his brows. "Gotham needs Batman—."
"And Jason needs me," Bruce raised his voice, "Had I been Bruce more often with Jason, maybe he wouldn't have died in the first place. I need to be there for him. I need to take care of—."
"And I'm not saying you're wrong, but from what I'm hearing in your voice, it sounds like you're calling it quits," Dick interrupted.
"Not permanently. I'm just prioritizing Jason for once," Bruce whispered, "Don't you think he deserves to be put first for once?"
Dick froze. He knew Bruce loved Jason, but he never thought that Bruce would ever set aside his priorities for anything or anyone. "I'm not judging you. I know you love Jason. I love Jason too... I just-. You don't have to do this alone. We're a family, and we're all willing to help in whatever way we can," Dick reassured him, "Maybe it's time you stop thinking you can do all this alone. Don't you think?"
"I can't let him down this time. I can't," Bruce whispered as he took a sip of water. "I should go check on him again soon."
"How many hours would you say you spend at the hospital?" Dick asked.
"Well, since he's gone from comatose to being in a vegetative state... Three hours in the daytime, on and off for two hours at night," Bruce replied. Dick tapped his fingertips on the table. "Yes, I'm thinking about going right now. You should think about coming with me."
Dick nodded. "I'll come along tomorrow before I leave," Dick replied, "No use in asking if you're staying for dessert, huh?" Bruce got up and took his plate to the kitchen.
Bruce's phone beeped, and he checked his phone. "I gotta go to the hospital—."
"What's wrong?" Dick asked.
"He's awake," Bruce replied as he rushed past Dick to the car. Dick followed closely behind.
"Is he okay?" Dick asked. Bruce handed Dick his phone, and when Dick saw what was going on, he pushed his hair back in distress. "Okay, I'm sorry for saying you were crazy for installing the motion sensor cameras."
32 notes · View notes
tickletastic · 2 months
Text
Please, Call Zatanna
Fandom: DC
Ship: Mentioned Birdflash (haven't said this on my previous DC fics, but batcest shippers, please DNI)
Summary: If Dick had a nickel for each time he woke up in Jason's body, he'd have two nickels. At least this time he can take advantage of it.
Strangely, it’s not the first time that Dick has woken up in someone else’s body. Or the second, even. The first time was after a weird mission with the Titans, and he woke up in Bart’s body, buzzing like he was going to die if he didn’t move, starving like he hadn’t eaten in months. The second time, he woke up in Jason’s body, a familiar redhead in the bed next to him, a small child cuddled between him and Roy. He had jolted like he was electrocuted and stumbled to the manor while Lian and Roy still laid peacefully in bed. It was, without a doubt, not the highest on the list of ways that Jason would have liked to come out to his family, but none of them had made a big deal of it. 
That’s all to say that, while nobody expects to wake up in another person’s body, Dick weirdly recognizes the weight he wakes up with, has a muscle memory of throwing the weight around the last time he and Jason ended up in this situation. Last time, Jason’s body had been sore, bruised ribs and two fractured fingers that he hadn’t bothered to mention to anyone. This time, he feels pretty alright other than the ebb of exhaustion encroaching on his alertness, and the dizziness that could likely be contributed to missing a round of meds the previous night. 
He can hear a groan from somewhere down the hall, the clattering of stuff falling to the floor, and predictably, Dick’s own body is dashing through the door. Jason looks beyond fed up, and the only relief is that he hadn’t gone home to Roy and Lian the night before, and that he had somehow, for the second time, avoided Roy seeing him in this embarrassing ass situation. Jason rolls his eyes with a grunt before glaring daggers towards Dick, “what the fuck did you do this time?”
“Me?” Dick gasps, offended, but unsurprised. He has been known to piss off a magician or two from time to time. “It was your fault last time!”
“Was not! How was I even supposed to know there was a witch in Gotham? She wasn’t fuckin’ around in crime alley, I never encounter the weird shit that you and Bruce do!” 
“Master Jason,” a voice says from the hall, Alfred clearing his throat, “language, please.”
“Sorry, Alfie,” Jason sighs, looking down at his hands. 
“Wait,” Dick says, tilting his head to one side, dark brows furrowed, “how’d you know that’s Jason?”
“Consider it an old man’s intuition,” Alfred looks between the two of them, partially flabbergasted that Dick’s body is wearing an expression so vividly Jason, and Jason’s body is wearing one that’s so vividly Dick. “Though I was unaware we were dealing with another magic incident.” 
“We were unaware too,” Dick groans, “I want out of this bulldozer.” Dick makes for the door, grabbing Jason and dragging him non-committedly behind him. They’ll have to call Zatanna again like the last time, and Dick is praying she’s not off-world again. He doesn’t love having to call one of his ex-girlfriends to get him out of embarrassing, avoidable situations, but it could’ve been worse, Wally had begged Dick to stay the night last night, and Dick is suddenly very glad he had said no. 
Jason rolls his eyes, following behind Dick, not making much of an effort to actually walk, “don’t talk about my hard-earned muscle like that.”
When Jason stops in the kitchen, claiming he’s hungry and his pit-stop is Alfred-approved, Dick paces the hall anxiously, hearing constant, numb buzzing in his mind. He remembers the noise from their last body-swap, remembers having to fight off a green haze that nobody else could see. Jason grins when he peeks his head into the hall, but it seems he hasn’t even realized that he’s not hearing the buzz, as if he’s the same with it or without it.  “Chill, dickface. Can you like, eat an egg or something? My body needs protein.”
Dick glares in Jason’s direction, and it almost startles Jason how stern his older brother is able to look in a body that’s not his, “I’m sure you’ll last two hours without a protein bar.”
“Says you, you weigh like three pounds,” Jason jabs, walking into the hallway to follow Dick to the cave. 
“I’m lean,” Dick groans, “you try doing a quadruple front flip with the body of a football player. In fact, I’d love to see you try.”
The cave, as usual, is dark and cold, a breeze seeming to come from nowhere at all. Tim is at the table closest to stairs, slumped over his laptop, eyebags deep and drooping. He has a mountain of Monster cans in front of him, and a coffee pot that Dick is certain Bruce swapped for decaf at some point, though it seems it didn’t matter anyways. Dick shoots him a disappointed look, letting out a tired sigh knowing that he’ll probably have to drug Tim’s tea or something to get him to actually sleep. 
Tim looks startled by the expression, a light blush on his cheeks, and Dick is reminded that he’s not in his body, but in Jason’s. Jason shows his affection through playful aggression, he doesn’t have the oldest sibling instinct to be exhausted by Tim’s shenanigans instead of worriedly amused.
“Timmers,” Dick calls, Jason’s timber voice coming out higher, more cheerful, “is B down here?”
Tim’s brow furrows, and he squints at Dick, His glasses sit low on his nose, and he pushes them up closer, but seems no more satisfied, no less confused. “Uh, I think so. He was like,” Tim takes a moment and looks at the time on his phone, “like two hours ago? I don’t remember him leaving I think?”
“Great, thank you, Timmy!” Dick skips deeper into the cave, and Jason has to physically restrain himself from tackling his own body because of how fucking stupid Dick is making it look. 
Bruce doesn’t look as exhausted as Tim, but he’s certainly getting there, slouched over a pile of files, sifting through them lazily and looking between them and his computer screen. He looks infinitely more exhausted when he looks at his eldest sons, putting his head in his hands and lightly pulling at the ends of his hair, “I will contact Zatanna again.”
“Thanks, B!” Dick exclaims, grinning widely. There’s something dopey about the expression being on Jason’s face, but Bruce still has to look away to hide his own grin at seeing a rare smile on Jason’s face. 
Dick turns back around, heading back towards where Tim was sitting, and Jason watches as Dick throws the younger boy over his shoulder, overestimating Tim’s weight, or, more accurately, underestimating his strength, and having to adjust. 
“Jason, what the f-”
“Not Jason!” Dick quips, pretending to drop Tim, “all thanks to some evil witch or warlock out there.” 
“Even worse,” Tim responds, but he hardly struggles when Dick moves to the stairs, intending to get him to finally sleep after who knows how long awake. 
Jason takes the opportunity to move towards the training area, hoping to try out Dick’s escrima sticks in Dick’s own body. He had tried to use them a few times, when he found them lying around or during the odd training session, but he just didn’t have the nimbleness to make them work, it was all about fists when he was fighting. 
He does a few flips, practices throwing himself around like it’s nothing, grabbing onto things he had never been able to jump to, doing tricks he hasn’t done since his Robin days. When Dick comes back, he watches Jason attempt some sort of backflip, one that lands him facedown on the mat. 
Dick rushes over, grabbing one of Jason’s arms and flipping him over on his back, looking unimpressed when Jason groans, a hand finding his face. “You better not have just bruised my body.”
“Bruised? You’ll be fine, dickhead, I’m sure you’re not made of glass,” Jason replies, rolling onto his side. 
“What hurts? Seriously, Jason, if you messed up my body I’m going to break one of your fingers before Zatanna gets here.”
“Chill!” Jason replies, sitting up, criss-cross in a way that makes this feel like he’s in a primary school class, getting chided by a teacher for spoiling To Kill A Mockingbird for the rest of his class.
“You’re impossible,” Dick sighs, reaching down and reaching for Jason’s ribs to make sure he won’t be feeling pain once he’s back in his body. Jason jolts away with an aborted squeak, swatting at Dick’s hand. 
“Fuck off!” Jason shouts, rolling away from Dick, he stops once he feels far enough away and gapes at Dick, “your body is like, crazy ticklish.”
“Oh, shut up,” Dick replies, waiting to plan his attack.
Jason eyes the room’s exits, figuring out which one could get him as far away as possible. Dick just grins, knowing it won’t matter once he catches Jason, knowing there will be no way for him to actually escape. 
Luckily for Dick, he sees Jason looking shiftily towards the back exit, the one that leads from the training room down the hallway to the medbay. Dick jolts forward and narrowly misses Jason as he runs, making it to the hall. Dick rounds the room to another exit, walking briskly down the hall, and he’s soon cutting off Jason’s path, grinning evilly as he watches Jason contemplate his next move. 
“You know what’s about to happen,” Dick says with a light laugh. 
“Can you ever just leave me alone?” Jason grunts, looking around to bolt again, “you’re so annoying.”
“I legally can’t,” Dick responds, and in seconds he’s tackling Jason to the ground, Jason, who had made the mistake of looking back for an escape route, “I’m your favourite big brother, after all.”
Jason is grappling against Dick’s hold, but he knows it’s over when Dick uses his thighs to pin him down, Jason’s current body no match for his actual one when it comes to strength. He doesn’t even know where to protect, other than the vague ideas he has from when Bruce used to tickle Dick, or he and Dick would get into mostly one-sided tickle fights as children. He moves his arms down to protect Dick’s ribs, but he’s not even sure if they’re Dick’s worst spot, and he’s beginning to realize that Dick knows exactly where to tickle, it’s his body, after all. 
Dick grins, lopsided and playful like he always has when he’s messing with his siblings, and he pretends to think, looking at Jason as he gradually grows more anxious. Dick moves his arms down so they rest limply by his sides, and Jason, noticing that the hands are eerily close to his sides, tries to jerk away. Dick grins, teasingly wiggling fingers next to Jason’s stomach, content when Jason starts to squirm. 
“Whahat thehehe fuhuhuck,” Jason giggles, “why ahaham I laahahaughing?”
Dick blushes faintly, shaking his head, “no way, is this bothering you?”
Jason shakes his head, brows furrowed, “it’s yohohour fuckin’ bohohody, why ihihis thihis getting me?”
“It’s the anticipation,” Dick explains, frustratingly level and calm, despite the pink blush on his cheeks, “I guess my body doesn’t like it.” 
“Yohohou’re tehehlling meHEHE,” Jason shrieks as Dick’s hands finally truly descend, fingers spidering over Jason’s tummy, “DiHIHICK! Stahahp ihihit!” 
“Nope, I’m taking full advantage of this situation, I never tickle you anymore.”
“Behehecause I’d kihihill yohohou!” Jason squeals, hands firmly on Dick’s wrists, not doing enough to push his hands away. Jason doesn’t know enough to predict that Dick is going to go for the sensitive spot between his belly button and left hip bone, but he’s suddenly arching his back, gasping and squealing as he tries to figure out some sort of strategy to defend this body he knows nothing about. 
“Hmm, where should I try next?” Dick thinks out loud, examining Jason’s red face, the smile up to his ears, he shakes his head when Jason insists that he try nowhere, and settles for a spot that will make Jason snort, “you know, I’m pretty bad on my ribs.”
Dick’s fingers wiggle upwards and drill into each rib, and Jason flops between arching his back and falling flat, “Plehehease! Yohohou- yohohu’re stuhuhupidly tihihicklish!”
Dick blushes, but he doesn’t bother denying it, he’s very acquainted with it, “alright, but right now it’s you that’s stupidly ticklish.” 
Dick does a motion that’s something between pinching and spidering on a middle rib, and Jason snorts before falling into hysterical giggles, throwing his head back. When he does the same to the top rib on both sides, Jason shrieks, trying to clamp his arms to his sides. Jason’s face is progressively growing redder and redder, and he can’t seem to figure out a way to predict where Dick will go next, entirely unaware of how ticklish Dick’s body is and where. 
Dick’s tries to put his hands under Jason’s arms, but is unable to because of how strongly Jason’s arms are clamped down at his sides. “Alright, well, you asked for this.”
Dick’s fingers fly down to Jason’s thighs, skittering between his mid thighs and hipbones, and Jason screams, bucking violently, flinging his arms instead of strategizing. “FUHUHUCK- N- DIHIHICK, PLEHEHEASE!”
“I think you can take a little more,” Dick laughs, shaking his head, “I have pretty decent lung capacity.”
Jason has felt Dick tickle him to pieces before, he knows that Dick’s skilled in tickling younger siblings to pieces, tickling all the back-talk and sarcasm and bad moods out of them. He himself has been tickled to tears at the hands of Dick. But this? Jason has never felt so thoroughly tickled before in his entire life. Every spot, every tactic, completely taking him apart. 
When Dick pinches above Jason’s knee, scratching underneath it every few seconds, erratic and unpredictable, Jason’s done for. He descends into wheezy, silent laughter, his hold loosening on Dick’s wrists. 
Dick relents, pulling his hands away as he watches Jason try to catch his breath, tears slipping from the corners of his eyes. He suddenly looks sheepish, looking off towards the door, “you know, I uh- I actually can’t tell your signs when you’re in my body. Did I go too far?”
Jason waves Dick off with a limp hand before covering his face with his arm, “you do that weird half snort half wheeze thing.”
Dick glares, his voice scandalized, “no I don’t!”
“You so do,” Jason responds, reaching a hand up to taser Dick’s bottom rib. 
Dick snorts, rolling off of Jason, “you’re still ticklish? Why didn’t you try to fight me off?”
“One of us has some self-preservation skills, Dickie,” Jason says with a wink, the expression is completely Jason, even though it’s Dick’s face, “you and I are going to have some fun when this is over.”
Dick pales, laughing nervously. “Uh, did you hear that? I think I heard Bruce call me, I’ll- I-” Dick bolts from the room, leaving with a bright blush. 
Jason just laughs, rolling his eyes. Dick might play the role, but he’s not dumb enough to expose every spot, every tactic that makes him a hysterical mess… Unless, of course, he was looking forward to the revenge.
50 notes · View notes
swanqueenfeathers · 9 months
Text
Jason opens his eyes to the inky blackness of his darkened bedroom, his body on high alert. He’s not alone - a sixth sense picking up what his ears can’t. He stands without so much of a rustle of the sheets and grabs the fully loaded .22 Beretta from his nightstand, switches off the safety and stalks towards the open doorway with silent footsteps. 
From the hallway, he can see the faint outline of someone standing in the kitchen. He points the gun at the silhouette of their head and flicks on the lights, flooding the apartment in a warm, yellow glow.
“Wrong move, motherfu– Dude, the fuck?” 
Tim, who was just elbows deep in the snack cabinet - Jason’s snack cabinet - turns slowly to face him, looking like a deer in the headlights.
“Didn’t mean to wake you,” He says sheepishly, but he’s stuffing a pack of Oreos into the pocket of his oversized hoodie which voids his half-assed apology, in Jason’s opinion. 
Jason tucks the gun into the waistband of his sweats with an incredulous scoff. “I was gonna shoot you.” 
“You didn’t, though, so it’s cool.” 
Jason shakes his head, somewhat aghast at Tim’s nonchalant reaction to nearly being shot. Fuckin’ psycho. “So you came here because…?”
“Uh,” Tim averts his gaze and fidgets with the corner of the cookie pack in his pocket, crinkling the plastic. He mumbles something, too fast and low for Jason to make out. 
“Tim, I can’t hear you,” Jason says, exasperation making the words come out sharper than he intended, which he immediately and uncharacteristically regrets when the line of Tim’s shoulders tense.
“Sorry,” Tim says stiffly, “I’ll just go.” 
“Whoa, man. Hold up.” Jason quickly steps in front of Tim and places his hands on his shoulders, placating. “What’s up with you? Is it Bruce? You know he can’t help being an asshole, it’s a condition.” 
“It’s not Bruce,” Tim says, and he’s still not meeting Jason’s eyes, but his lips twitch into a ghost of a smile that Jason counts as a win. “I just… I didn’t want to be by myself.” 
“So you came here? Why?” Jason asks, taken aback. He and Tim hadn’t started out on the greatest of terms, but time heals most wounds, and he likes to think that they could be considered friends now. Tim was one of the few people he could stand to be around for more than five minutes - he was incredibly brilliant, and witty to boot. Their back and forth banter during the occasional team-up was something that Jason sometimes found himself looking forward to, which he would never admit to anyone, ever.
“I don’t know,” Tim shrugs uncomfortably, “Because your place is the closest? I wasn’t really thinking about it, I guess.”  
An unfamiliar albeit not unpleasant feeling settles in the pit of Jason’s stomach. Pride, maybe? For some reason, Tim had sought him out. Not Dick, or Bruce - him. The thought fills him with a strange warmth that he’d rather not dissect at the moment. 
“You can stay,” He says instead, moving his hands from Tim’s shoulders to flick his forehead. “Just don’t expect any coddling, and next time? Bring your own fucking snacks.”
“But it tastes better when I don’t have to buy it,” Tim says, and he’s finally looking up at Jason, smiling as the tension in his frame visibly melts away. It’s weird, seeing Tim relax around him, because of him. It’s new, kind of unnerving, and yet - he still feels warm. 
They spend the next hour camped out in the kitchen, talking about everything and nothing. Tim sits on the counter, legs swinging back and forth as he happily inhales Jason’s only tub of orange sherbet, the bastard. Jason sits across from him, munching on the Oreos that Tim so kindly offered, as if they were his in the first place. 
Eventually, the lack of sleep starts to catch up to them. Jason can’t stop yawning, blinking slower and slower as the seconds tick away. Tim has dark circles under his eyes, but says nothing, like he’s worried Jason might make him leave if he acknowledges the time.
“I’m calling it a night,” Jason says at some point. Then, he adds, “The couch converts to a bed.” An invitation to stay without putting it into exact words. “S’already got a blanket and whatever.”
“Thanks,” Tim says, genuinely enough that Jason feels a little embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck before he stands and pads towards his bedroom. He throws a wave over his shoulder.
“G’night, Tim.”
“Night, Jason.” 
124 notes · View notes