#bringing tim fully back into the fold
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and the thing is that dick *did* need tim's emotional support and help during the beginning of the batman reborn era because dick's life was also falling apart and they did need to help each other badly and tim leaving him to fix everything and handle the city and damian by himself *was* mean and a bit selfish, but also if tim had stayed to do this, there would have been no real chance for good independent growth for himself (in-universe and narratively speaking) and staying to help dick manage the city would have also meant deprioritizing his own wants and continuing to push down his own grief to do what's best for the greater good and ignoring both his suspicions and what he felt he needed to do at the time (search for bruce, prove himself right, have a breakdown around the world as he figured out his place in it) to focus instead on prioritizing what was currently best for current batman/dick's sake. which is just. kind of a continuation of what he's done/tried to do since he showed up in alpod. (would therapy probably have been a healthier option to move past this? well, yes, but unhealthy coping mechanisms or gtfo frankly) (anyways despite the fact he left to ostensibly find bruce, which is still batman related, leaving is still what allowed tim to get into situations that made him solidify himself as the person he wanted to be moving forth into adulthood + get to the point where he is still helping batman but also is starting to prioritize himself over prioritizing batman's needs so leaving was the objectively correct decision for himself)
anyways, they were both doing the equivalent of putting on their own oxygen masks first here instead of prioritizing what the other felt they needed at the time. and that's okay. they're both allowed to be a bit selfish at this point.
#tangentially related this is also a bit why i can't necessarily vibe#with bruce is dead and tim is okay with being wrong and just comes back to help dick with gotham and everyone is better for it#where is the drama and conflict#why would tim's pride allow for this#tim was never mad at dick and will always love and support him#but that scenario doesn't really do anything of note for tim's character tbh it's uninteresting#really if he does survive brucequest but bruce is dead he should really go on his nightwing arc.#not become nightwing ofc but do what dick did and gtfo of gotham and come back to help only if batman/dick needs him for something#really try to carve his own place in the world separate from batman-dick to grow and come into his own#anyways thinking of potentially lingering tension in this arc (not ridiculous fanon tension)#where dick is a little annoyed that tim left him when he needed tim to go on a quest that led to nothing (also feels bad it didn't work out#and tim is too prideful and upset that he was wrong (and a bit ashamed for leaving when he was needed to go chase ultimately nothing)#and they're brothers they love each other so much but they can't talk about this because that would mean emotional conversations#and there's just a slight schism there. tim will always come for dick when dick calls.#but tim is also content to manage his bonds away from gotham - a place where he's just reminded of his failures#anyways there's a nice little alpod arc there with dick's potential second robin#bringing tim fully back into the fold#something something something
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trick or treat!
Something darker for those chilling Halloween nights... Hope you enjoy Slade and Tim caught up in some predicament bondage, of sorts 💙
⚠️ Warnings for mutual non-con, torture, and non-consensual drugging.
The choice seemed easier, when it was just a concept.
Tim watches the pink liquid climb higher, up the length of the cannula, and disappear beneath the gauze stuck to the top of his hand. He sucks in a sharp breath, even though he can't feel anything yet, and tries to calm his racing heart.
"What will it be for you, Terminator?" the voice asks from the speaker box. Slade answers it with a growl, and Tim swallows harshly at the thick scent of rage in his nose. "If you don't choose," the voice sing-songs, "we'll choose for you."
"Trick," Slade bites out, and Tim feels him jolt when the collar around his neck lights up. It makes Slade shove forwards, and Tim topples over with the force, scrambling to keep himself from faceplanting into the soft mattress beneath them. The motion brings with it a wicked spark of pleasure, and Tim feels a wash of guilt at getting off on Slade's pain.
He can feel the heavy wash of Slade's breath on his neck as the alpha struggles to recover. Tim's lost count of how many hits Slade has had now. He's taken a few himself, partly out of curiosity, and partly to slow the compounding effects of the drug being steadily pumped into his system. Tim's hoping, if his calculations are decent, that the aphrodisiac won't fully saturate his bloodwork for another half hour. It doesn't make the clock feel any friendlier.
"Let's make this more interesting," the speaker box suggests. Tim's fists clench in the sheets, head dipping as he summons his resolve. "What's your choice, Robin?"
Tim does the maths, and comes up with the same choice. "Treat."
Nothing comes up the transparent piping. Tim stares at his cannula for the longest moment, until, behind him, Slade's snarls.
"Your turn, Terminator."
"I'm going to fucking kill you," Slade vows, and the snap of his teeth at the back of Tim's neck makes him shudder all over. Slade reigns in his temper enough to growl, "Trick."
Tim's not sure why it takes him so long to work it out. Maybe his calculations were wrong. Maybe the drug is affecting him more than he realised.
It doesn't make much difference when Tim's neck lights up in a ring of fire.
He screams, the cuffs keeping him pinned on his hands and knees pulling taunt against his skin. It hurts, and Slade is bellowing something at the speaker box. Tim wants to fold into the mattress and cry.
The burning stops, but Tim's throat feels scoured raw, inside and out.
"That choice wasn't for him!" Slade is shouting, at no one and nothing. His hands are fists in their cuffs, nails hitching into the sheets like claws. Tim can see them where they bracket his own, the metal rods between their wrists keeping them both aligned. Joined, Tim thinks, in more ways than one. "You sick bastards!"
The speaker box ignores him. "You're up again, Robin. What will it be this time? Trick or treat?"
Tim feels weak. He feels nauseous. He doesn't want another dose. He doesn't want to be electrocuted more.
"Treat," he answers, resigned.
"Let's double it up this time!" the speaker box announces gleefully, and Tim whines at the sight of the pink liquid climbing up the piping. Tim wonders if Slade feels as nauseous at the sight as he does.
Slade is panting again, knees shifting in discomfort where they're braced over Tim's. Every roll of his hips grinds his cock deeper into Tim, his knot tugging on Tim's walls.
"It's double jeopardy, Terminator. What's your choice? Trick? Or Treat?"
Every second Slade hesitates feels like another nail in Tim's coffin. He's not even sure which he wants Slade to choose. He desperately wishes they could talk about this, strategize, come up with a plan. But Slade has said barely a word to him since they woke up in this compromising position, and Tim doesn't think he's likely to get chatty soon.
"Terminator—"
"Treat," Slade bites out, and Tim can't hold back his groan.
It's mirrored by Slade, as Tim watches the aphrodisiac dose him up again. He feels hot all over, his skin too tight. Every shift of his hips sends sparks ricocheting through his stomach. Every clench of his thighs makes him see stars. The itch of drying slick on his skin is slowly driving Tim insane.
"I can't take much more of this," Tim mumbles, just loud enough for Slade to hear. A warning and a plea.
"Robin looks like he's enjoying himself a bit much — what a naughty little bird," the speaker box chastises. Tim shudders all over, and the moan that breaks free of Slade's lips doesn't sound pained at all. "Let's help him out with a controlled shock."
Tim braces for the pain. It doesn't make it hurt any less. It doesn't make it easier to deal with either, and after a few seconds of live-wire agony, Tim is back to screaming again.
"Please," he whimpers, when the aftershocks fade. His cheeks are wet, and Tim buries them in the sheets. "Please."
"I think we went a bit hard on him, Terminator," the speaker box is saying.
"Kid," Slade murmurs above him, voice cruelly soft. Tim doesn't lift his head.
"I'll give you a chance to help him out. Robin says he likes his treats. If you make him come, I'll let him off for this next one."
"Go to hell," Slade snarls, but Tim stirs enough to push himself upright.
"Do it," he rasps, tilting his hips back into Slade's. Even that small adjustment makes him moan, pleasure thrumming through his drugged veins. "Just do it."
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No Dick Grayson AU
Alfred convinces Tatsu Yamashiro(Katana) and Dinah Lance(Black Canary) to join Batman's crusade when it starts getting difficult for him to handle crime on his own. Katana brings Barbara Gordon into the fold as Oracle because Barbara is determined to help the vigilantes.
A few years later, Bruce joins the Justice League(Superman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, Flash, Cyborg, and Green Lantern). Dinah moves to Star City, and Katana disappears. Barbara starts to join Batman on patrols.
About a year later, Batman brings Jason Todd home. Jason tries to join Batman as a vigilante, but Bruce, Alfred, and Barbara convince him to wait until he's an adult. Bruce agrees to train him until then.
Jason starts helping Barbara with coms, Alfred with making sure they have the medbay fully stocked, and Bruce and Lucius with Wayne Enterprise Charities. Jason, as the top student, graduates a year early(age 16/17 since his b-day's in march) and goes on a world tour for extra training. He gets sucked into training with the League of Assassins, but leaves rather quickly via Talia tossing him to the All-Caste since Bruce knows where he is. He returns to Gotham as the vigilante Flamebat as a nod to his All-Blades and the dark red and black costume he created. As the All-Blades don't harm any non-magical being, he normally uses them when he wants to be dramatic or particularly threatening.
Barbara does get shot by Joker before Jason goes on tour and loses the ability to walk.
Steph also appears (at 15) on the vigilante scene briefly, but is talked out of it by Barbara and disappears for a while. When she gets back she decides to go out as Spoiler. When the others are unable to convince her to wait until she's at least 17 to start being a vigilante, Cass (as she's about 1 year older) is declared to be her patrol partner. (this happens just before Jason leaves)
Cass shows up a bit after Steph does. She's found by Barbara and is convinced to wait until she's at least 17 to start vigilantism. Bruce adopts her pretty quickly and gives her the tools to figure out who she is without the violence of being an assassin or a vigilante.
About a year after Jason returns, Damian (age 10) appears in the Bat's lives. He continuously sneaks out of the manor to prove that he's worthy and ready to become a vigilante and follow in his father's footsteps.
When Bruce disappears, Jason takes on the responsibilities of being Batman and CEO of Wayne Enterprise. Cass and Alfred take on the role of being Damian's primary caretakers. Tim figures out that Bruce is still alive after getting "lost" in Wayne Manor during a gala, and leaves an anonymous tip about it for the Bats to find. (Tim doesn't know that they're the Bats, just that somehow Bruce ended up in the past.)
After Bruce comes back, things mostly go back to how they were before. Except, they catch wind of a group of child vigilantes. Beast Boy (age 13), Blue Beetle (14), Impulse (16), and Raven (13). When interrogated, the adult heroes find out that: Beast Boy had joined a group called the Doom Patrol and been with them since he was 11 but left because of conflicting morals, then run into Raven and Impulse; Blue Beetle had been doing superhero stuff for a few months before he ran into the other three; Raven had been picked up by Beast Boy while running from a cult that wanted to use her to summon a demon; and Impulse is the one who pulled the group together to help prevent a future event from happening. Not knowing exactly what to do with the group of child heroes, they put Kon (aka Superboy; 17) and Spoiler (18) in charge of the group that's now called Young Justice.
Around half a year later, Damian(11 almost 12) joins the group along with Jon (Superboy; 12).
They also find out somewhere along the way that Billy Batson was 10 years old when he started superhero-ing.
#batman#dc captain marvel#shazam#billy batson#damian wayne#jason todd#dc katana#tatsu yamashiro#dinah lance#black canary#bruce wayne#dc oracle#barbara gordon#do you know how much i want this to become a fic#i would pay $15 for someone to turn this into a well written multi chapter fic#that isn't legal tho#so i can say i'd draw the outfit i imagine jason creating if someone writes this#i would also be 100% willing to post about it on here if that's something that will help convince someone to write this#please
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babysitting- t. stützle
tim stützle x f!reader
warnings~ implied sex, baby fever, babies in general
genre~ fluff
word count~ 1.1k
main masterlist
a/n: i’m formatting this on my ipad, so if spacing and such is weird i am so sorry. i’ve never used my ipad for this before lmao
you had a secret. something you never really told anyone, but you love kids. you knew it sounded crazy, like who could ever want a snotty, squealing little monster walking around pulling hair and biting things; but you did. tiktok only furthered your baby fever. every other scroll was some type of baby video (good or bad) and you just couldn’t get enough. never having sat down and talked with tim about it; you were nervous to bring it up. you were both young and he had just started his nhl career. you didn’t want a child right now per se, but you did want one in the future
this all came to head, when your best friend selena, asked you to babysit her one year old, savannah. you obviously said yes, and in your excitement you totally forgot to tell tim of the plan. when selena showed up the next day, it was a shock to him who was the one to open the door for them.
“ummm, babe, selena is at the door.” tim hollered to you after greeting the two at the door.
“ooh ya, i agreed to watch savannah for the night, so that selena can get some needed rest.” you said running in the room to grab the little girl from your besties arm’s. “how are you doing, missy?” you kissing her forehead.
“thank you so so so much, (y/n). i don’t know what i would do without you.” selena said, side hugging you.
“it’s honestly no problem. tim and i didn’t have anything planned and i just love this precious girl.” you gushed, smiling over at tim. he looked surprised but not mad.
“I packed all the bottles, diapers, and noise machine for you.” she pointed to the light pink bag she had put down on your front table. “if you have any questions just text me and i’ll try and answer. i’m going to catch up on some much needed sleep.”
“perfect! i’m so excited!’ you sang out swaying savannah in your arms.
“thank you so much for offering to do this. i owe you big time.” selena said practically out the door already. with a ‘bye! love you.’ she was back in her car.
“oh my god! isn’t she just the cutest?” you asked not even looking at tim; all of your attention being on savannah. “can you get the playpen set up in the living room? i’ll put the bottles in the fridge.”
“what’s a playpen?” tim asked, confused.
“this black thing.” you said, handing him the folded up black canopy. “it should just pop right out, and she can play in it without us having to hold her.” tim was confused about how you knew all of this. from his understanding you haven’t been babysitting recently, but he brushed it off blaming it on previous knowledge. he could still hear you talking to the child with a high pitched voice and then a mix of your giggles. “timmy, are you almost done?” you came around the corner asking.
“yeahhh…” he mumbled still messing with it, which made you giggle.
“do you want to just hold savannah? i can finish it.” you asked him.
“i don’t really know how to hold a baby.” tim said, his cheeks turning a bright red from the confession.
“well, i’m a great teacher.” you said now fully set on him holding the baby. he got up from kneeling on the ground, and opened his arms for savannah. “hold her up in your arm like this, and then have your hand come and hold her bum.”
“she’s so cute.” you heard him mumble under his breath. after you were satisfied with how he was holding the baby you got to work on the playpen. within a minute, you had it all set up and ready to use. before telling tim through you just had to snap a picture of them both.
“you can set her down now.” you told him moving away slightly.
“i don’t want to put her down.” he confessed with a breathy laugh.
“take your time, timmy.” you laugh kissing them both on the cheek, as you went back to the kitchen to finish dinner. you continued to listen to the sounds of them playing in the other room.
after dinner was eaten and savannah had her last bottle, you all three sat down to watch a movie. bouncing the child in in your lap, while cuddled up to tim was like you were in heaven. you knew this was all temporary, but it was still fun playing house. savannah had started to fall asleep in your arms so decided it was time to put her in her small portable crib for the night.
after the movie and more cuddles from tim, you both started to bed yourselves. while doing your twelve step skin care routine, he leaned up against the door railing just watching you. “do you want kids?” you surprised yourself by asking.
“after seeing you basically glowing today; i would be more than happy to have some with you.” he said moving off of the railing and started massaging your shoulders in the way he knew you liked. you beamed up at him: the biggest smile on your face.
“oh, thank god!” you breathed out. “i’ve always wanted a child. i was so nervous you weren’t going to.”
“i would do anything for you.” tim confessed looking at you through the mirror. he bent down to kiss your cheek and moved down your neck.
“slow down, mister. we can’t tonight. we’ll wake up savannah.” you slightly joked while lightly pushing his head from your neck. “we have all the time to settle down.”
he smiled down at you and kissed you on your lips. the kiss was filled only with love and was warm and inviting. “i love you,” he murmured on your lips.
“i love you too,” you tried to say back.
when selena showed up in the morning to collect her kid; she looked well rested and energized. “thank you guys for watching her. did she give you any problems?” she asked.
“none at all actually. didn’t even wake up once during the night.” tim answered.
“savannah was great!” you agreed. happy to help a friend and feed your baby addiction. “you can bring her over anytime.”
after the two guest had left, tim turned around to sweep you off of your feet and into his arms. “we can always start practicing.” he smirked as he whispered in your ear, earning a laugh from you.
“i’m not going to stop you.” you chuckled letting him carry you to your shared bedroom.
finished.
#nhl imagine#nhl x reader#nhl fic#hockey fic#my writing#hockey boys#tim stützle#tim stützle x reader#tim stützle imagine#hockeywhhores#tim stutzle#tim stutzle x reader#tim stutzle imagine
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Tim fucks Jim Gordon sometimes. Why? Because the man's miserable. Middle-aged. Divorced. Never sleeps well bc there's always criminals runnin' around in Gotham. Tim wanted, no, he HAD to help. Timmy is very caring & has a good heart. Besides, Jim is a friend of Bruce. Tim looked at Jim and was like "awww poor bby :((( he needs some pussy right now :((" and then he unzipped the crotch line of his costume and turned around, fully presenting his plump ass and pink cunt.
Jim had a weird look on his face. Like he was confused or something. Really? Is he so old that he doesn't know anymore what to do in situation like this?
Tim wiggled his ass a few time, sultry presenting his glistening, swollen pussy before Jim finally started to unbuckle his belt. Soon after that the Gotham's dark night was filled with Tim's deep moans.
Jim's a gentleman, so after the whole thing was over he ate Tim's pussy very tenderly. Like he was tasting the world's most delicious dessert. When Tim's kitty was clean Jim kissed his clit one last time and said "thank you sweetheart, that was exactly what I needed".
They fuck after that 1-2 times in a month. Jim isn't young anymore, his joints and spine hurt so most of the time Tim is doing the work, riding him in a reverse cowgirl.
They actually did it completely naked once, when Jim invited him to his house. And well... Tim didn't like it. Firstly, Jim isn't fit & he's got a belly pooch. Secondly, he doesn't shave. Like.. at all. Pubes on his balls scratched Tim's delicate folds. They did it in missionary position and it was nice actually, Jim murmuring how pretty and wet he is & his cock touching all the right places. But Tim was waiting for the moment when Jim spills deep inside him and he will be finally free to go home.
ANON I LOVE THIS SO MUCH I CAN'T TELL YOU HOW MANY TIMES I'VE REREAD THIS!!!!!!!
just the imagery of little nymphet tim fucking much older, grizzled jim gordon!!
tim is doing it because batman trusts jim, works closely with him- so his health is something that matters to tim. and sure he's always known that being comissioner of the gcpd was a more stressful job than most but...jim had been looking more and more...frazzled as of late. the commissioner hasn't had an easy life, most days he had everything from rogues, to gangsters, to run-of-the-mill corrupt politicians barking at his ass.
he hasn't had much luck with love since his divorce from barbara kean. jim's decade-old affair with a fellow officer was something that politicians and journalists loved bringing up when it came time for reelection and given the recent appointment of a new mayor tim was certain that the rehashing of that old mistake was probably what had poor jim gordon all down in the dumps.
good thing he had tim there to help him out of the clear rut he'd fallen into.
tim was a very small robin, it was something other officers and vigilantes had commented on before. but never jim, and tim is happy about that.
jim has no qualms with how his body dwarfs tim as he bends him over near the bat-signal and fucks into tim's wet little pussy.
tim has made a habit of keep it nice and sopping. bruce is a big fan of taking tim in the back seat of the batmobile before returning to the cave after a very long night. bruce's cock is much bigger than jim's and he fucks harder too so tim is pleasantly surprised by how much he likes jim pressing into his little cunt.
he's careful with tim, never pressing down on the back of his head and suffocating him into the concrete. his cock is a nice length and fills tim's pussy perfectly, something they both appreciate.
jim is also a fan of changing positions. when tim is on his front he can rest his cheek on his hands and let out occasional soft moans when jim hits somewhere really nice. if he's on his back, jim keeps a big hand on tim's tummy, splaying his fingers and occasionally rubbing at tim's clit with his thumb so tim orgasms faster. if jim fucks tim on his side, he hooks tim's leg over his shoulder and pounds much deeper into tim's cunt, tim is pretty sure jim is mostly fucking his womb when they fuck like that.
tim likes having sex with jim, it's nice and it feels good. especially afterward when jim kisses tim's puffed up cunt and tongue his clit. jim is a gentleman in a way other people isn't because he makes sure tim is all cleaned up of cum so there won't be a mess in his underwear when he returns home to shower.
tim purrs when jim fucks his tongue into his abused hole and leaves his cunt pleasantly wet and tingly.
before they started fucking jim used to have a junior officer of montoya accompany him to the roof, but when he knows it'll just be robin, he makes sure to lock the door behind him and carry a key so the two of them will have alone time.
the roof of the gcpd doesn't carry cameras as a courtesy to batman and surrounding buildings are too short for anyone to catch sight of the commissioner and robin fucking.
he and jim don't fuck very often. only twice a month because it takes a while for jim to get sufficiently pent up. when you reach his age, the equipment doesn't always want to work right. tim had once curiously asked why they only did it once and jim had just let out a soft chuckle and apology for it.
"i'm not as young as i used to be," he'd inform tim, scratching at his beard while pulling his underwear back up and buckling his pants while tim stared at him with big, curious eyes and a pussy full of cum.
after a while, kneeling on concrete and staying bent over for while just becomes too hard of the commissioner's old bones and creaky joints. tim knows that jim had enough injuries to rival batman so coos in sympathy when he hears all the cracks from his body once he's up. tim takes to riding him more after that.
jim likes it, letting out appreciative groans and moans as tim rides him fast and hard- just like how batman likes. when he feels the cock inside him twitching, tim always makes sure to sink down all the way to the base so that every drop of cum will fill him up.
tim likes how jim pats tim's sides and squeezes his little tush.
but even like that, jim's back creaks.
so he invites tim over to his house for the first and only time.
it's the first time anything but tim's little cunt is exposed.
jim mumurs lowly and whispers appreciative words of tim's little body. he even spends a few minutes kissing and sucking on tim's tits. tim shivers at the prickly brush of his five o clock shadow. usually tim only feels it against his inner thighs when jim eats him out.
jim also takes the opportunity to strip down until he's in nothing but a pair of brown crew socks. his hands are massive with how they hold tim's hips while tugging him to be on top as jim falls back onto his bed.
jim lives alone, he has ever since barbara moved out, so he assures tim he can be as loud as he wants.
it's the first time he kisses tim, cupping tim's soft jaw and licking into the seam of his mouth, moaning as tim willingly opened for him.
tim had to tap into his training to hold back his cringe at the taste. bitter black coffee and smoky cigars that were heavy on his breath. they smelt like the ones his dad used to smoke. jim's mustache is bushy and tim's nose tickles as jim tilts his head and drags tim down to settle on top of him and slot his cock against tim's spread open cunt.
tim fucking jim in a reverse cowgirl is the only way to be able to get out of having to keep kissing him. plus staying pressed to jim's chest is...uncomfortable.
tim's little tits are mashed to jim's chest and feel the full expanse of his hairy chest. he's like tim's teddy bear. he's just covered with hair. maybe tim's a little spoiled because everyone he knows shaves or waxes to prevent leaving dna behind as well as to more efficiently clean their bodies when gunk or goo gets spilled on them.
but tim still doesn't like the feeling. it's prickly and it's everywhere like a forest. all over jim's chest, arms, thighs, and legs. the only parts that aren't are his hands, cock, and part of his face, the parts that were exposed when jim would fuck him.
jim is grinding his cock against tim's heat, pressing the head briefly inside and coating it in tim's wetness before letting it pop back out with a wet sound. he's moaning lowly and humping tim and tim can't help but feel that small blossom of sympathy that first had him unzipping his crotch slit and offering his warm, wet cunt to gordon.
'he really needs this.'
tim tries to do it like he normally does, hard and fast until he's panting and his pussy is tingling. how jim likes it.
but jim wants to change positions. he fucks tim on his knees while holding his hips in what tim knows is called 'doggy style'. he has tim face him while laying on their sides and holds tim open by keeping a firm grip on his leg and keeping him cracked open like a book.
jim likes that one because he likes how deep he can get. he pants especially hard while furiously thrusting his cock into tim's pussy and breaths ashy cigar smoke breath onto tim's face.
and despite his reservations about his hairy body, tim does enjoy missionary. with jim on top and tim's legs on either side of him. jim fills him up so wonderfully. it's like tim's pussy was made to fit jim beacuse the two of them fit like two puzzle pieces. tim lets out soft whines as he feels the head of jim's cock batter his cervix and walls. tim doesn't even mind how jim's soft stomach, and slight gut press against tim and let out audible slaps when he thrusts in.
tim is clenching around the cock inside him, moaning and whining as jim stares down and whispers about how pretty tim is.
the pillows behind tim's head smell like an ashtray and tim hopes the whines he let out are interpreted as pleasured.
jim groans and murmurs how he's so tight and wet, how jim loves fucking his pussy so much. how tim really has the best pussy jim's ever had, so wet and sweet and sensitive. and his clit, the cutest little clit in the world and jim always makes sure to give it a goodbye kiss when they're done. but he especially loves how tim is so good at taking his cum for him, how tim's pussy just sucks all that cum right up and batman is so lucky to have you, so blessed-
tim feels his insides get splashed with hot, thick warmth and whines as jim grunts over him, cursing lowly and fucking stuttered thrusts into tim.
tim wiggles slightly where he's impaled on jim's dick, humming and spreading his fingers in a 'V' alongside where his cunt is split open on the cock inside him. it's wet and tim can feel the droplets of cum escaping out of the sides.
jim always cums a lot and tim likes that.
it means his kitty gets eaten out for longer.
but tim really wants to just go home. jim is slumped over him, sweating from exertion, panting black coffee and cigar breaths, and making tim's trembling body uncomfortable with the hair sticking to him.
tim says something about not wanting batman to realize he's not on his usual route and jim is so out of breath he can't eat tim out. so instead he stuffs his thick fingers into him and fucks him deep, spreading tim's wetness and massaging his clit until tim lets out a little cry and clamps down on the fingers in him.
the next time jim proposes they return to his home so he can send tim's off with a sore cunt, tim 'regretfully' declines and instead rides jim on the roof, right next to the quiet humming and radiating heat of the batsignal.
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Lost in the ARK
Tim is somewhere he shouldn't be
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He stared at the bleak landscape around him in confusion. How… How had he gotten here? Where was here? Tim turned to look over his shoulder; tall, spindly dark trees rose up against the permanently overcast looking sky. Their branches stretched and seemed to reach out for anything they could ensnare. Fog swirled around as he took a cautious step forward. This wasn’t Rosswood—though he’d known going back there had been a bad idea.
“But what if Jay was there…” Of course that was just some lies he’d used to create some sense of false hope that Jay hadn’t died. That maybe, on a slim chance, he’d been taken to the burned out hospital or the red shed or the tunnel…
He didn’t even recall seeing that tall thing in the suit—The Operator, as many of Alex’s scribbled drawings seemed to call it. Something about this place screamed it was wrong. Just like the faceless monster. The feeling of paranoia and eyes following him didn’t lessen as he continued searching for… He wasn’t sure. An exit maybe? Yeah. That’d probably be a good thing to find.
“But what if Jay’s here?” Something nagged at his thoughts that it could be the chance to find Jay and bring him back with him. A thought that whispered promises of his other friends being returned as if the past years hadn’t occurred echoed in his head.
It seemed to tug him forward, urging him instinctively to the open expanse that the trees surrounded. With the fog, he couldn’t see what he was headed towards but each step became less cautious and more desperate to reach the location he was mentally being pulled to.
A shape moved to his right, jolting him from his haze. Tim sucked in a breath and whipped his head around, trying to see where the figure had gone. He didn’t have much on him in terms of a weapon, only Jay’s folding knife. He spotted a distinctly human blob darting by again; the person was circling him… and closing in fast.
“...Jay?” He knew deep down it wasn’t. Jay would never do this to him. Another person came to mind. “Brian?”
Nothing. Everything seemed to still. Tim spun, taking out the knife as he tried to find his stalker. “It can’t be Alex… I killed him. So who—what?”
A slight scraping sound and weight fell onto his back, arms wrapping tightly around his throat. Tim gave a startled, choked noise as he adjusted his footing. At least they hadn’t sent him to the ground, as they were a rather light weight. A shudder went through him as he felt a familiar plastic against his head and arms as he twisted and turned to grab the figure and throw them off.
Their body thumped to the ground as he flung them down. He coughed as he caught his breath and glared at the slender masked figure. Tim nearly choked on air as they rose and he could fully see their mask; it looked a little too much like The Operator’s ‘face’ for his liking. At least it wasn’t that entity. A human being he could fight.
He rammed into them, not letting the figure make another move; the two tumbled to the dirt. Alarm shot through him as the wall of fog disappeared and revealed the pit he’d nearly sent both of them falling into. His grip on their shoulder tightened as he stared below at the abyss, silently thankful most of his body was still on solid ground—gooey ground but solid enough.
“What is that? It feels… bad.” He felt the hole calling to him again but didn’t fall for the trick again. “Another few steps and I would’ve walked right over!”
Hands pushed back and grabbed at his flannel as his attacker struggled to avoid the gaping hole beneath their shoulders. “Wait… I… I’m trying to help!”
The voice wasn’t familiar and he had little inclination to trust them, but the feeling of the ground sinking down and into the pit made up his mind. Tim shuffled back, dragging them along; at least he could get answers from them.
“Who are you? Where am I?”
“The ARK… pretty far into it too. Did it call you here?” They ignored his first question and tilted their head to the side as they observed him through the mask’s dark sockets. “You aren’t dead. So why are you here?”
A chill ran through him. Brian had been right about the ARK existing? All those cryptic videos… He’d always assumed it was a metaphor or something. “At least it means I’m alive… That’s… That’s not really comforting. Why would Brian want to be led to this place?”
“I’m looking for friends.” He finally managed to find his voice again. All of this was crazy. “Jay and Brian… Are they here?”
“Did it promise to bring them back?” They slipped from his grip and glanced at the heart of the realm they were currently in. “...It won’t. And the price you’ll pay won’t be worth what it does grant you.”
“Who are you?” His tone was forceful, as his patience began wearing thin. “Where are Jay and Brian?”
“I don’t know.” They continued peering into the pit. “But I know who might. They’re… unique. They know many of those who have died and come here.”
“Take me to them.”
“It’s dangerous. You should leave.”
Well he couldn’t leave if he wanted to. This place seemed to stretch on forever. “Take me to them, now… Or you’re going in there.”
Was it a good threat? He wasn’t sure. But that hole looked like it was bottomless and by the sound of it, dangerous… Like the rest of this place seemed to be. Tim stood his ground, glaring at the person before him.
The silence stretched on before they walked past him. “Follow me… I may know where to find him… Lucky you, he hangs out near the exit these days… Otherwise, if we’d have gone in there you might not’ve made it back out—not alive at least.”
“...Did… Are you dead?” They hadn’t felt dead but who knew what the rules were here—and if the dead were here then that might mean Alex was too. “How long have you been here?”
“I’m alive.” They looked around before letting out a long breath. “Time is… odd here. I don’t know how long it’s been. A long time, years maybe… I could leave, but there isn’t anything to go back to.”
He didn’t think an explanation was needed. With the tone of their voice and his own experience with the tall entity, Tim understood they meant the people they cared about were dead. It was hard not to stare as he thought about that. There were always suspicions more like him and the others could be out there, but actually finding one who was… Well in this case, almost sad.
“I found my calling. I don’t want your pity.” The masked face looked back at him. “Keeping people from making the same mistakes you almost did—and mistakes worse—makes me feel like I’m doing something to help.”
The pattern of the trees almost felt familiar as they headed deeper back into the forest. His body tensed as he realized it was almost some warped reflection of Rosswood—an area near the tunnel specifically. Tim paused to look around, only to be urged to keep moving as something in the distance snapped a branch.
“Don’t stop.”
“Are you sure your friend is this way?”
“No. But it’s where they’ve been.” They repeated before coming to a halt. “And there they are.”
He caught up and looked around her, catching a glimpse of a figure in a skull mask. The new figure looked their way and walked closer with an unnatural grace that made Tim wonder if they were human or something else.
“Skully.”
The new masked figure glanced at the one who’d guided him, returning the greeting. “Ash… and… Oh, I know you.”
“They do?” Tim was taken aback by the statement. If he wasn’t already on edge he would’ve been.
“You wish to find your friends…?”
“Y…yeah… Jay and Brian?” He wasn’t sure he shouldn’t be getting as far away from Skully as possible. Something about them didn’t feel right.
There was a pause before Skully lifted up his mask. The face revealed was like being punched in the gut. Tim couldn’t tell what he felt as he stared at Jay’s face… Or, was that really Jay? It looked like Jay, even the glint of his gaze screamed it was really Jay.
“No… no… you’re not…” It couldn’t be Jay.
“I carry many.”
“It’s not Jay… it’s just some… some… I don’t know! A trick.” He couldn’t look at Jay, or Skully, or whoever they were.
“Tim…” Jay’s voice. That was Jay’s voice coming from that being’s mouth.
“Don’t.” He glared at Ash. “Where are they really? Back in that hole? Gone?”
“This isn’t a trick… It’s odd, yes, but we have no reason to trick you.”
Tim pushed past them, headed for the tunnel. Presumably, it would take him out of here, right? They’d called it an exit. “I’m leaving.”
“If you go, you may never come back. You may not see your friends again.”
He paused, keeping his back to them. His friends…Would the only time he’d return and see them again be when he died? “...And if I stay?”
“You’ll be here until you decide to leave… like Ash. The world will forget about you quickly… but here you won’t be alone anymore. The ARK isn’t bad, eventually it’ll become a part of you.” Skully stepped closer but didn’t try to stop the man if he chose to keep walking. They could feel Jay’s spirit ping-ponging back and forth on what he hoped Tim would choose.
So, he could go back and be alone but… maybe have this as closure and move onto a normal life… Or he could stay and live here in the ARK with all the madness that this place held with his friends—he wasn’t sure Skully was telling the truth but he did know his friends were here… somewhere. Tim turned and looked between the exit and the two figures silently letting him choose without bias. He swallowed heavily. After everything he’d been through, all he’d lost, Tim knew what he wanted.
#marble hornets#slenderverse#a03 fanfic#creepypasta#jay merrick#tim wright#masky#skully#hoody#one shot#marble hornets one shot#slenderverse one shot#the ark#marble hornets au#mh skully#mh tim#mh jay#totheark#marble hornets oc#slenderverse oc#mh comic#open ending
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Becoming Rhonda Burgandy
Rhonda was purchased secondhand from a man in Melbourne in May 2022, with the intention to become the best adventure pal that a gal could drive. After loving her fully seated guts for a few months, we got her camping ready.
NB from here on ‘we’ means ‘mostly Tim’
We took out the very back row of seats, which originally folded up to the sides. We just needed to take out some bolts and other bits, and there was a lot of advice available on the internet to help.
We decided to leave the middle row of seats so we could still bring human friends along on roadtrips. The middle seats rotate to face the back which gives us more space and options to use the seats while in camper mode. The middle seat has so many different configurations - seat, armrest, cupholders, secret compartment, middle table, high table, drivers shelf... endless possibilities!
Our idea was to have a bed that folds down to a full size bed and also folds up to be a table/desk/backrest and keep room for passengers. Rhonda is not a huge van so this needed some creativity...
Tim had 3 perfectly sized planks of sturdy formply that he had marked for another project. Approximately 600 * 1200mm each. Two go together as a square base for the bed, and the third is a headboard which allows us to fold away the bed. We bought coffee table legs from Bunnings which raise the bed just above the wheel arches.
There are 9 legs supporting the bed base; 3 on each side and 3 down the middle. (It feels very sturdy to sleep on!) Tim invented some clever brackets to hold the two pieces of formply together, so that the legs didn’t have to much to do and can just focus on being legs. The tape over the top is to smooth-over the bolts so the mattress doesn’t get caught on them.
We bought two 4wd-style drawers from Anaconda prior to building the bed base and made sure the legs fit either side of each drawer - it was a precision job! The drawers were pointlessly difficult to assemble and I almost had to write a letter of complaint, but they work great now they’re done. One thing we still have to do is raise them up by about 1cm as they currently get caught on the lip at the back when we open them.
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Busted
Bruce Wayne X Wife! Reader
Batmom! Reader
Warnings:major character injury, suggestive content.
Words:1162
Bruce is injured but he can still protect Gotham.. Or at least he thinks he can.
"and just what do you think you're doing?" I said with my arms folded.
I look up to my husband who was holding onto the tied curtains two feet off the ground.
"you're supposed to be at work" he said with a deep grunt in defeat.
"and you're supposed to be in bed Bat.. I'm not going to work anymore"
"Y/N..." he groaned like a child
"bed Bruce! I'm putting my foot down"
Bruce had his right arm over my shoulder and left arm bent against his chest. The tied curtain wrapped around his waist and our arms. I help my husband up the stairs to our room. He fought the sudden wince from his sore wounds.
"I'll take you anywhere in the world you want to go to let me in the Bat-cave" he offered determined that he was going to change my mind
"nope!" I replied as he rolled his eyes.
I take him into our bedroom.
"I trust his stitches are still in tact Ms Y/N" Alfred asked entering the room and takes the tied curtains "such a pity" he mumbled.
"thankfully I got there in time before he did anything truly stupid" I answered helping him into the bed
"you do realize I'm still able to hear your absurdity!" he growled to me
"good now please rest" I dramatically begged and kiss his lips.
I hear, my phone ring Barry. That can't be good. I answer hearing a crash. Bruce tried to reach for my phone but hissed in pain. I move away from him.
"everything OK Flash?" I asked.
"what is going on?!" Bruce demanded
His voice was too fast for me to comprehend, he then slowed his voice down
-"sorry H/N could use Bat's right about now. Currently--" I hear another crash "Fighting Solomon Grundy and he ain't too happy right now"
"I'm on my way, Batman is off duty at the moment" I said hanging up putting the phone in my pocket.
"what did Flash say?" Bruce asked
"uhh first off your off duty, secondly I'm not telling you for it would jepradize the first reason"
I run out of the bedroom to the Bat-cave. Wait! Bruce is SOOOO going to try and escape. I quickly text the family group chat with Alfred, Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Duke, Damian, Barbara, Cassandra and Stephanie.
(me) -first off. BRUCE TEXT ANYTHING CONTRARY TO WHAT I'M ABOUT TO TEXT AND I'LL MAKE YOU REGRET IT.... OK kids operation do not let Bruce out of the Manor. Can I trust my children to do their duty while Momma Bat is away?-
(Bruce) - this is without my consent and their WILL be consequences-
(Barbara) - of course! Don't worry I'm currently in the Bat-cave watching the surrvalences cameras... And no I won't tell you details Bats-
(Cassandra) - 👍👍🤗🤗🤗😁😁😁❤️❤️❤️👏👏👏😊😊😊😺😺😺😺😺😺-
(Dick) - of course mom! We got your back! I'll bring some activities for the old Bat. BTW B.. Mom is WAY MORE SCARY THAN YOU-
(Duke) - I'm down-
(Tim)-👍-
(Steph) - yay!! I get full permission to torment Bruce!! 🤣🤣😜😂-
(Damian) - I'm fully equipped to take care of father while he is ill. Do not worry Mother -
(Bruce) - Damian I'm not ill-
(Damian) - Mother is quite concerned, so I do not believe what you claim-
(Jason) - yeah sure whatever, I'm currently not doing anything and could use some excitement-
(Alfred) - trust well we will take good care of master Bruce, while you're gone Ms Y/N-
(me) - thank you all!!!! I love you all so very much and I'll be back home very soon!!! ❤️🤗🤗🤗🤗❤️🤗❤️🤗❤️🤗❤️❤️❤️🤗🤗❤️🤗🤗🤗-
Bruce's P. O. V
Y/N was gone the entire day. The children took her request as an oath. Each of them in their own way prevented me from leaving. Grayson threatened to tackle me with a bear hug and brought his board games that, we played when his little. Barbara did tell me everything was fine in Gotham.. But refused to give out details. Damian would appear to each place within the Manor, that offers a passage to the Bat-cave. Tim was texting me every time I left my room. Once I got to the Bat-cave finally... Jason personally took each wheel off of each vehicle... Which only he could do best of course. While I was trapped in my own room. Cassandra brought me books to occupy myself, while Stephanie made it her mission to annoy me. After patrolling Gotham in the day Duke came to keep me company. Alfred often brought me whatever I needed without me lifting a finger... It's difficult to be Soo still, but it's these rare times I'm reminded of how much they love me.. I realize my worries of being a bad father.. Are only my worries and not truth.
Y/N's P. O. V
I was filling out my report sitting in the cafeteria in the watchtower. I hear footsteps.
"everything OK?" Clark asked me
"so long as Bruce hasn't escaped" I sighed worried about my husband.
"he's currently in bed reading" he said
"really? Was not expecting that! Maybe I should let you watch my husband?" I laugh, Bruce would be enraged.
"now Y/N you know I love Bruce as my own brother but the man is quite..." he stammered as he clears his throat. "well you now know what I mean"
"I do, that being said he does care about you to. You're the only man he trust to be the godfather of our children and be their honorary uncle"
"which I'm proud to have such a title.. I got to go, tell B I said hi"
"will do Supe's and tell Lois I said hi" I replied, he smiled and super-speeded away.
I finally finish and leave for home. It's 1 o'clock in the morning.. I'm exhausted. I walk into our bedroom Bruce sound asleep. I kiss his face he softly smiled.
"I'm glad you're actually resting" I mumbled and kiss him.
I leave for a moment to change into my pajamas. I lay next to my husband and let sleep take me...
Bruce's P. O. V
I hear a soft cry leave my wife's lips. I open my eyes seeing her laying on her side facing away from me. I place my hand on her shoulder and push her close to me. I kiss her neck. Nightmares were becoming the norm between the two of us. Though it's those times I get to hold her close to me. I rest my head on her shoulder
"turn around"
She did as I said turning to face me. Her tears welled up in her beautiful e/c eyes. I kiss her lips deeply and move my hand up her shirt. She pulls away leaving my lips.
"you need rest Bruce.. We--" I cover her lips with another kiss.
"I'm willing to admit that I am not strong enough for patrol at the moment.. But I'm strong enough to love all of you"
#batman wayne family adventures#bwfa#Bwfa spoilers#Bruce Wayne injured#Injury#Bruce Wayne X Wife! Reader#Batmom! Reader#Batmom#Batman Wayne Family Adventures episode 34: recovery#Dick Grayson#Jason Todd#Tim Drake#Damian Wayne#Duke Thomas#Stephanie Brown#Barbara Gordon#Cassandra Cain#Alfred Pennyworth#Clark Kent#Platonic relationships#Love#Nightmares#Humor#Spoilers#Comfort#Loving Batfamily
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Jonmartin with 20 or 76 for the kiss prompts!
kiss prompt list!
20 - surprised kiss | 76 - top of head kisses
this is both! ft. domestic married jmart in a no-supernatural au
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A small mmrp! is the only warning Martin gets before something very fluffy and very orange jumps onto the kitchen counter beside him.
“Hey, no,” Martin chides, scooping the as-yet-unnamed cat into his arms and lowering him gently to the ground. He points a stern finger at the small, curious face staring up at him and says, “I know you’re new here, but you’ll have to learn the house rules eventually. And I know I’ll have to be the one to enforce them, because the moment Jon sees your cute little face he’s going to just- just let you do whatever you please.”
The cat lets out another mmrp before rubbing his face affectionately against Martin’s leg.
“Right,” Martin says with a soft smile, crouching down and scratching underneath the cat’s chin. “You haven’t met him yet, but Jon’s going to love you. You’re just going to have to- to look at him and he’ll love you.” Quieter, to himself, Martin mumbles, “I hope he’ll love you.”
A cat isn’t a typical anniversary gift, sure, but it’s not like they hadn’t been talking about it. They’d looked into a few shelters, made a list of the things they’d need to buy in order to make their flat pet-friendly, but Jon’s workload had increased drastically a few weeks ago and discussions had fallen to the wayside. Martin had spent a frankly ridiculous amount of time scanning through Jon’s meticulous notes about preferred breeds, ages, and dispositions before spending an even more ridiculous amount of time visiting every shelter within a 50-kilometer radius of them.
He may also have two cardboard boxes full of cat toys, food, litter, and other items stowed away in the back of the linens closet. He’s nothing if not prepared.
The quiet thump of paws on marble drags Martin out of his thoughts, and he looks up to see the cat stood atop the counter again, tail swishing back and forth with excitement.
“No,” Martin says, standing and lifting the cat carefully up so he can look him firmly in the eyes. “We do not jump on the counter. The counter is where we cook, and Jon stress-cleans enough as it is—we don’t need to give him the extra incentive.”
The cat’s mouth stretches open in a wide yawn, revealing rows of sharp teeth, before blinking passively at him.
“Right,” Martin says again with a resigned nod. He tucks the cat against his chest experimentally, feeling the rumbling purr against his skin, and presses his nose into the soft orange fur on the nape of the cat’s neck. “Did you know that Jon and I got married a year ago today? Oh, of course not, you're a cat. Well, we did. Honestly, though, it- it feels like yesterday. Things since then have just been… nice. Christ, so nice, and- and I love him, you know? You’re going to love him too—he’s got this, like, this thing where cats just adore him on sight. Tim likes to call him the ‘cat whisperer,’ and Jon pretends like it annoys him because, heh, you know, otherwise it would go right to Tim’s head, but Jon adores you guys. With your- your little paws, and your little ears, and your- ow, ow, your claws—"
Martin gently, yet gracelessly, lets the cat spill free from his arms and onto the lino. He rubs at his arm, gives the cat a stern look, and says, “Is that any way to treat your father?”
The cat looks up at him and meows loudly.
“Don’t talk back,” Martin says with faux disappointment, crossing his arms across his chest. After a moment, his resolve breaks, and he bends down to scratch between the cat’s ears gently, a fond smile spreading across his face.
Martin’s halfway back to standing when the doorknob rattles. His first thought is oh, Jon’s home early. Then: wait, Christ, nothing’s ready yet. Then: shit, the cat!
Martin’s reflexes are, predictably, less acute than the fluffy apex predator who’s currently making his way to the front door at breakneck speed, meowing loudly enough that Martin’s sure Jon can already hear it through the still-closed door. Martin has just enough time to take a few, anxious steps toward the door before it swings open and Jon shoulders his way through, arms laden with stacks of folders and books and papers. Martin decides that he'll chide Jon for bringing work home on their anniversary later and instead prioritizes coming up with a speech he thought he still had several hours to prepare in approximately five seconds.
“Oh, hello,” Jon says, kicking the door shut behind him and rearranging the pile of work in his hands so it doesn’t slip. “Elias let me go early—albeit with a mountain of paperwork, good Lord—so I thought I’d…”
He trails off as a small, insistent mmrp! cuts through the air. Martin squeezes his eyes shut and says, quietly, “Ah, right. That’s… that’s nice of him?”
“I… I suppose,” Jon says, sounding a bit lost. There’s a shuffling noise, and Martin opens his eyes a crack to see Jon depositing the stack of papers on the side table by the couch before turning, slowly, back to the cat. “Is… sorry, I- I’m not… is there meant to be a cat in our flat?”
The cat meows, and Martin says weakly, “Happy anniversary?”
“Oh,” Jon says. Then, after a moment, his mouth curves into a small smile, and he repeats, softly, “Oh.”
Jon crouches down and shifts so he’s kneeling on the ground, sitting back on his heels that way Martin’s never been flexible enough to do. “Hello,” he says quietly, holding out a hand for the cat to sniff. “And who might you be?”
“He doesn’t have a name yet,” Martin says, still reeling from the abruptness of the last thirty seconds. “I- I thought… you might like to name him?”
Jon hums in thought, letting the cat push his head into his hand before beginning to scratch gently underneath his chin. “I… I don’t really know,” he says. “Georgie was always the one who was good at naming, I- I just sort of went along with it for the Admiral.”
“Could always go generic,” Martin suggests, feeling his heart swell with affection as the cat yawns again and Jon’s face lights up. “You know, like- like Whiskers, or…”
Jon gives Martin an unimpressed look. “Certainly not. That would be like naming our child… Leg, or something equally ridiculous.”
Martin tries to ignore the way his heart stutters at the words our child and says, in a small voice, “Yeah, that… that would be silly.”
Jon’s expression folds into something soft and fond, and he says, “I’ve… I’ve always been partial to Clarence, if… if that’s all right with you, I suppose.”
Something must show on Martin’s face, because Jon quickly clarifies, “For- for the cat, that is, not, er- not for a… an actual child—”
“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Martin says quickly, his cheeks growing hot.
“—because- because Clarence isn’t really- well, it’s, it’s not bad, it’s just, I don’t—”
“—absolutely, yes, I- I agree, one-hundred percent—”
“—just, just for… for the cat.”
“Mm-hmm,” Martin says in a high-pitched voice, fully giving up on pretending like his face isn’t flushed a bright red. His mouth twitches up into a smile, almost against his will, and he says, “For the cat. Of course.”
“Of course,” Jon echoes. The moment of silence between them is broken by an accusatory meow, and Jon’s laugh at that is something that Martin wants to bottle up and treasure forever. “My apologies, Clarence,” he says, scooping the cat up in his arms and pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. “I wasn’t giving you nearly enough attention. A grievous error on my part.”
“You’re going to spoil him,” Martin says teasingly. “He’ll be insufferable.”
Clarence lets out a happy chirp of agreement.
Carefully, Jon stands, Clarence still tucked securely in his arms, and steps closer so he can press a soft, lingering kiss to Martin’s lips. “Thank you,” he whispers, pulling back just enough that he can rest his forehead against Martin’s. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Martin says.
There’s a disgruntled mmrp, and Jon’s mouth curves into an amused smile. “I love you as well,” he says, giving Clarence another kiss on the top of his head. Then, teasingly: “Maybe even a bit more than your father.”
Martin lets out a long, exaggerated groan. “I can’t believe this. Less than five minutes in our home and you’re already stealing my husband from me.” He reaches over and scratches Clarence’s belly fondly. “Disrespectful. Utterly abhorrent.”
Clarence makes a pleased little noise before starting to purr audibly.
“We’ll need food,” Jon says absently, one hand scratching underneath Clarence’s chin. “Litter, bowls, toys…”
Martin grins, a bit giddily. “Oh, way ahead of you.”
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All Men Have Limits - III
Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne
Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.
Word Count: 3,500+
Previously on…
Bruce was having yet another night without sleep. It happened often. And similar to the rest of the family, he just learned to function on very few hours of sleep.
So, he decided to make his way down to the kitchen.
But as he walked down the long hallway of bedrooms, he noticed that Y/N’s door was open. He glanced inside to see that it was empty and her bed was still neatly made from this morning.
He looked down at this watch to see that it was almost 5AM.
A part of Bruce expected to find Y/N snacking or drinking coffee. But she wasn’t in the kitchen either.
Bruce sighed, realizing where she’d be and made his way down to the cave.
He expected to find Y/N with her eyes bloodshot and shoulders hunched over at the computers.
What he didn’t expect was to find Y/N passed out, slouched in the chair, knees in her chest and head balanced on the palm of her hand. How her elbow stayed propped up on the arm of the chair was beyond Bruce.
He smirked at the sight.
Perhaps she’d been spending too much time around the Wayne family. She was starting to adopt their bad habit of exhausting themselves.
Bruce knew she would be irritated if he moved her. But, honestly, he didn’t really care.
Carefully, Bruce slipped his arms behind her back – separating her from the chair – and then behind her knees, slowly lifting her into his arms.
Even though the movement was extremely smooth, Y/N still stirred.
“I was just taking a cat nap,” Y/N mumbled, but couldn’t even open her eyes to make the argument compelling. “I’m still working.”
“No, you’re not. Time to get some sleep.”
“Mmmm. Fine,” she slurred and tucked her head into his neck.
Bruce wasn’t sure if her mind even put together that it was him carrying her.
But he savored the closeness as he carried her out of the cave and up the stairs to the second floor of the manor.
When they got to her bedroom, Bruce put her down on the bed so softly, that she didn’t even feel it. Then he bent down to take off her shoes and unfolded the covers to tuck her in.
Just as Bruce reached the door.
Y/N woke up slightly and muttered, “Night, Bruce.”
His hand froze on the doorknob. It was so quiet that he wasn’t even sure if he had imagined it. But he couldn’t find the courage to turn and face her.
So he shut the door and let her sleep.
————
“Where’s Y/L/N?” Damian asked the table.
She usually ate breakfast with them.
“Still sleeping,” Bruce answered without looking up from the newspaper. “No one bother her today. She needs to rest,” that made him look up and give a warning look to Tim, Damian, and Dick.
Then Jason came stomping into the kitchen.
He grabbed a pastry and ate it standing up, getting crumbs all over the floor.
“Where’s ladylove?” He asked with his mouth so full that he looked like a chipmunk.
Bruce ignored him and looked back down at the paper.
But Dick frowned at him. “Don’t call her that.”
“What do you care?” Jason laughed.
Dick didn’t dignify the question with an answer. He just thrust his chair back and shoved Jason’s shoulder as he stormed past him.
“What’s his fucking deal?” Jason asked once he was out of ear shot.
“Watch your language,” Bruce warned with a glare from behind his paper.
Jason exhaled a laugh. “I’m not a kid. I also don’t live under your roof anymore.”
“And I consider that a gift,” Damian muttered loud enough for everyone to hear.
Jason smacked the back of his head.
Damian flew out of his seat and lunged for him. “I will end you, Todd!”
“Maybe when you hit puberty, demon spawn.”
“Damian!” Bruce shouted to get his son’s attention. His son snapped to attention. But then Bruce’s tone was eerily calm when he continued with, “Control your anger.”
It was something they’d been working on since Damian arrived at the manor. Bruce guessed that Damian would always have a temper. But he needed to learn how to control it. Through time and practice, he got better.
Damian took in a deep breath, but still looked like he wanted to murder Jason.
“I will be training,” Damian announced through an irritated sigh before leaving.
Bruce glared at Jason. “Don’t push him.”
“He started it.”
“You claim you’re not a kid, so don’t act like one.”
“Speaking of kids…” Jason started with a smile.
Bruce swiftly stood up. “Don’t even try.”
Then he was gone as well, leaving just Jason and Tim.
“Well, it appears everyone is in a rather bad mood this morning,” Jason joked.
But there was no response from Tim.
“Are you sleeping with your eyes open?!?” Jason yelled.
That woke up Tim and he jumped. “Huh? What?”
————
Y/N would’ve slept the whole day if she hadn’t smelled the coffee and breakfast.
She winced as she woke up to see if her mind was playing tricks on her.
But on top of her nightstand sat a beautiful, antique tray with a full American breakfast on it, a cup of water, a giant mug of coffee, and a little vase with a tiny flower in it – a single, pink peonie.
Y/N rubbed her eyes awake with a shy smile.
Alfred was way sneakier than she realized if he could bring in a full tray like this and not even wake her up. She must be far more exhausted than she originally thought.
But then a piece of paper caught her eye. A note.
Y/N reached for it.
In the neatest handwriting Y/N had ever seen, she read:
“Perhaps you should take the day to relax. I apologize for my behavior last night.”
Y/N snorted at the word ‘behavior.’ Everything he had done last night was passive. It was more of an energy and tension than actual behavior. But Y/N had to give him credit for being aware of it. He had annoyed her last night, especially when Dick somehow took the fall for her own actions regarding her own life.
She ate the food at a disturbingly fast rate, not realizing how starved she’d felt until taking the first bite.
She would definitely miss Alfred’s cooking when she finally left Wayne Manor… whenever the hell that would be.
Y/N hoped it was sooner rather than later.
‘No, you don’t. Liar.’ A voice said inside her head.
Once Y/N had finished eating at light speed, she threw on a pair of baggy jeans and a cropped sweatshirt. She grabbed her coffee and carried it through the hallway.
She heard typing coming from Bruce’s office. He hadn’t used the room since she starting stay at the manor. So, her curiosity got the best of her and she leaned into the doorframe.
Bruce was wearing a navy polo that fit tight on his toned body. He was behind the desk, typing on the computer with his brow folded in concentration.
He immediately noticed her presence and looked up from his work.
“Hi,” she said shyly before she leaned her back into the doorframe and took a sip of coffee.
“Hi,” he smiled back.
“Thank you for the breakfast.”
Bruce leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. “I can’t take credit for the actual cooking,” he admitted with a smirk.
“Oh, I know.” Then she looked around the study. “I was on my way to the cave when I heard you in here.”
Bruce frowned at that. “I thought you were going to take the day off.”
“I think you thought I was taking the day off.” Then she raised an eyebrow and glanced at all the work spread out on his desk. “Maybe you should take a break.”
“This is Wayne Enterprises, not my…nighttime…activities.”
Y/N shrugged and sipped more coffee. “Still work.”
Bruce rubbed his face. “Guess so.”
“I’ll make you a deal,” Y/N walked into the room and didn’t break eye contact. “If you take the day off, so will I.”
She expected Bruce to immediately shoot down her offer.
But he was smirking as he considered her proposition.
“Deal,” he told her before standing up and walking out from behind the desk.
He got unnecessarily close, invading her space.
Bruce held out his hand.
Y/N grinned at the formal gesture, but shook his hand.
But when their hands gripped together, the gesture no longer felt formal. It felt intimate. Y/N’s grin fell when she acknowledged it.
“What did you have in mind?” Bruce asked. He put his hands in the pockets of his slacks.
If he felt the same intimacy as she had, he didn’t show it.
Y/N cleared her throat. “How about something simple? Maybe a walk?”
Bruce nodded slowly. “A walk sounds good.”
“Well, then what are we waiting for?” Y/N sassed.
He shook his head and almost rolled his eyes before gesturing to the door, silently telling her to go first.
Next thing Y/N knew, she was getting an informal tour of the grounds at Wayne Manor from the owner himself.
Y/N listened closely, genuinely finding all the history interesting. Bruce was surprisingly a good storyteller – even if he was more informative than colorful.
“I know you had a hard childhood. But it still must’ve been nice growing up in a place like this,” Y/N tried to tell him.
“I suppose so.”
He glanced at Y/N and found her giving him an encouraging look, as if she was silently begging him to say more, to share more.
But he left it at that.
“Damian is rather fond of animals. That’s why we updated the old outbuilding. He keeps his horses there…amongst other things.”
Y/N chuckled and nodded, “He was telling me about Batcow the other day.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate me telling you this, but I think Damian has enjoyed having you around – all the boys have.”
Y/N hummed and turned to fully face Bruce. “And what about you? Have you enjoyed having me around?”
“Wayne Manor is the safest place for you right now.”
“That’s not what I asked, Bruce.”
But he already knew that.
Y/N waited. Because she wasn’t going to let him ignore her question.
“Dick has taken quite a liking to you,” Bruce said quietly.
“Don’t change the subject,” Y/N snapped.
He opened his mouth to continue, but she cut him off.
“We’re not talking about me and Dick. We’re talking about me and you.”
Bruce’s jaw tightened.
Y/n took a step closer to him. “Why did you kiss me the other night?”
He tilted his head to the side. “Did you not want me to?”
“What does it matter?” Y/N sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I want to know what you’re thinking. I thought I put up walls. But you give me nothing, Bruce. Absolutely nothing. One second I think you see me as a nuisance, then the next you’re fucking kissing me.”
“You’re not a nuisance.”
“Oh, he speaks!” Y/N threw up her arms.
“What do you want me to say, Y/N?” He asked evenly.
Always calm and collected. Overly polite. Controlled. Closed off.
“Forget it,” Y/N breathed and started walking back to the manor.
But after she was a few yards away, she realized she wanted to say one last thing and turned back around.
“Not that it matters. But I did. I did want you to kiss me.”
“Then why did you run away?” Bruce asked.
“Because I knew you would do it eventually. And I was trying to protect myself.”
-
So much for a “day off.” When Y/N was upset, she turned to her work to take her mind off of things. Was it denial? Was it displacement? She didn’t like to dwell on it. And most of the time, there was no one in her life to call her out for it.
Y/N thought she was emotionally distant, but Bruce won that race by a landslide. And she found it infuriating.
It was interactions like the one she just had that made Y/N think everything Dick tried to tell her about how Bruce saw her was utter bullshit.
Y/N arrived to the cave with an energy she was definitely not expecting.
Damian and Dick were training on the lower level while Tim and Jason observed from the sides.
Y/N had seen footage of each of them fighting before. It was one of the research pieces she’d watched while investigating them before figuring out their identities. But seeing it in person was a completely different experience.
Dick was using his escrima sticks, while Damian had his katana.
Jason noticed her arrival and made his way over with a smirk.
“Was wondering when you’d wake up,” he greeted.
“Please tell me that’s a sword for training and not an actual blade,” Y/N asked nervously while her eyes followed the two dancing around each other. She could even hear the blade slicing through the air.
“Don’t worry. They won’t seriously hurt each other.” He had a little side smirk. “Especially since Dick is Damian’s favorite.”
Y/N looked at Jason. “I always assumed Bruce was his favorite.”
He shrugged. “Dick’s been a father to Damian far more than Bruce ever has.”
She didn’t have anything to say to that. It caught her by surprise a bit.
“Can you fight?” Jason asked her.
Her eyes widened. “No. I don’t know how to do…anything. I did one of those boxing workout classes. I hated it. All the instructors are male models, and that’s their side hustle.”
“I can assure you that was not boxing,” Jason laughed. “Why haven’t asked one of us?”
Y/N shrugged. “Seems like a waste of your time.”
“No, it sounds like a fun time,” Jason corrected.
She laughed at that.
They both watched the two again.
A few moments went by before Y/N quietly added, “I have a gun. I don’t really know how to use it. But I thought it was necessary with my…line of work.”
Jason nodded slowly. “These pansies have a certain aversion to guns.” He looked down at her. “If you need me to show you a few basics, let me know.”
Y/N quickly looked at him. “T-Thank you.”
He laughed. “Don’t look so surprised.”
Jason Todd may have been labeled an anti-hero or even a criminal at one point. But deep down, he was still a Wayne. And even though he had the reputation of the bad boy, they all knew he was a sweetheart deep down. However, Y/N was now just seeing it.
Y/N jumped when Damian was slammed to the ground.
“Jesus,” she hissed.
“He’s fine,” Jason insisted.
But then he leaned closer and started pointing out certain moves to her.
“With Dick’s gymnastics background, he incorporates a lot more acrobatics and moves that require more flexibility. He’s good at improvisation. He also leans more toward taekwondo. But with his escrima sticks, he also uses arnis.”
He looked down to make sure he wasn’t boring Y/N before he continued.
“He almost moves like a dancer,” she thought aloud, proving she was interested and engaged.
“Exactly,” he nodded. “Whereas Damian is still a kid. It’s less about power and more about agility. Before he got here, he was trained to kill. He’s mastered the sword better than any of us – but don’t tell him I said that. Damian’s had to adjust his technique and turn it non-lethal.” He smirked, “Just think devil ninja and that pretty much sums it up.”
Y/N laughed.
“And Tim?” She asked.
“Tim leans towards Kobudo, which is an ancient style developed by the Japanese. He prefers to use a battle staff. He’s smaller, so his technique is very calculated and controlled. Every move he makes counts for something. He’s extremely observant and can read his opponents like a book. Dick tries to create his openings, while Tim waits for the exact right moment.”
“Smart,” Y/N commented.
Jason nodded in agreement.
She turned back to him. “And you? What’s your style?”
“Brutal,” a voice said behind them.
Y/N whipped around to see Bruce standing behind them with his arms crossed. He’d changed, and was now wearing a tank top and sweatpants. Clearly he came down with the intention to train as well.
Jason didn’t seem surprised nor did he acknowledge him, meaning he probably knew the moment Bruce had arrived. He just didn’t care to notice him outwardly.
“Wing chun. Heavy-weight boxing. Krav Maga,” Bruce continued as if he was just listing of stats. “Angry…” he shrugged, “sometimes reckless.”
Jason scoffed at that.
“And he can’t seem to get over his complex for guns,” Bruce finished.
Jason turned to him. He was just an inch or so taller than Bruce. But he looked like he was twice the width and his muscles were somehow even bigger.
“Should we give her a show, B?” Jason offered with amusement.
“We’re not a spectacle, Jason.”
Jason looked down to Y/N. “Such a party pooper this one.”
She smirked at his sass. Bruce was not in her good graces right now, so she would support any and all mocking of him.
Y/N hadn’t even looked at Bruce since he arrived. And now she was choosing it as a perfect time to finally make her way to her computers and away from him.
Jason didn’t miss the cold shoulder. “What did you do to piss off yet another woman?”
Bruce glared at him, and walked down to the training area with the boys.
Jason followed after him.
He looked back and forth between Bruce and up at Y/N, a plan developing in his head.
“$100 bucks Bruce can lay out Dick in two minutes,” Jason said loud enough that Y/N could hear him.
Tim and Damian shared a smirk.
Bruce and Dick glared at him.
“I’m not betting against that,” Damian announced.
Tim smiled. “But I will.”
Dick shook his head in submission, “Fine.”
Bruce needed the practice, even though he was aware Jason had ulterior motives with his request. So he just gave Dick a look of consent.
Y/N tried to ignore what was happening, even though Jason made it very clear for her. She heard the sound of fists and feet hitting skin. He heard their grunts of pain and exertion.
It wasn’t until she heard Dick torment Bruce with, “Come on, old man,” that Y/N couldn’t help but turn to watch them below the platform she worked on.
Dick’s teasing worked, but not in his favor.
Bruce no longer took it easy on him. Maybe that’s what Dick wanted, but he was now on the defense.
They were fighting hand to hand. No escrima sticks or gadgets. Just hand-to-hand combat.
Y/N could tell the that Dick was starting to get frustrated.
Bruce, however, seemed completely calm. He knew all of the boys’ fighting styles and taught them the majority of what they knew. There was a part of Bruce in all of them. It almost made for an unfair fight.
Their movements got faster and faster. Y/N was struggling to figure out what was even happening anymore.
But just when she was about to give up her observing and get back to work, Bruce managed to get a proper grip on Dick and flipped him over his shoulder.
Dick landed on his back hard. So hard, that Y/N heard the smack and the sound alone made her feel sick.
Y/N gasped, and put a hand in her mouth when the sound came out louder than she expected.
Jason, Tim, Damian, and even Dick glanced up at her.
But Bruce was staring down at his opponent.
“Your weight placement was off and you know how to get out of that hold,” Bruce lectured. “You know better.”
Dick glared up at him.
Bruce offered him a hand up, but Dick ignored it.
“I know,” Dick growled as he got to his feet.
“You’re letting yourself get frustrated. It’s causing your mistakes.”
“I said I know,” Dick snapped louder this time.
Before an argument could really start, Alfred made his presence known by clearing his throat.
All the boys looked up at him, as well.
“What is it?” Bruce asked.
“I was rather certain you’d forgotten. Seems I was right.” Alfred cleared his throat. “I came to remind you all that the annual gala for the Martha Foundation is tomorrow night at the manor.”
“Can’t we reschedule it,” Damian whined.
Bruce shook his head. “The Court of Owls is made of Gotham’s elite – many of who are invited. If we cancel, it will cause suspicion.”
“You can’t honestly think we should risk that with Y/N being here,” Dick called out, gesturing up towards Y/N.
Bruce and Dick had a silent conversation.
Y/N knew it was about her, so she did not appreciate being excluded.
“Oh, wow. Looks like one of my safe houses is finally more secure than this place,” Y/N spoke up melodramatically.
But she should’ve known it wasn’t going to be that easy to escape.
--------------------------------------
Next chapter is gonna be fun, guys. 😈
But let me know what you thought of this one.
#all men have limits#all men have limits part 3#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson reader insert#nightwing#nightwing x reader#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne reader insert#batman#batman x reader#batfam#batboys#dick grayson x reader x bruce wayne#bruce wayne x reader x dick grayson
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tma fic recs please ? 🤲🏽
Oooooo yes! I never get asks like this, thank you!
[my tumblr fic recs tag is here for browsing]
I had to put it under a cut because it got...entirely too long barely half an hour into making it, sorry.
Under 5k
means of cartharsis by orphan_account [G] [965]
“You’d think – you’d that at this point nightmares would be second nature for me, hm?” Martin says, forcing a smile even as he tugs the blanket tighter around his trembling shoulders.
It’s meant to be a bit funny. Instead of laughing, though, Jon frowns.
“No,” he says simply, and matter-of-factly wipes the moisture from Martin’s cheeks with a tissue like he’s a crying child.
A Proper Sleepover by Goodluckdetective (scorpiantales) [T] [1.4k]
In a different world, one where Elias is not waiting for them outside the Lonely, everyone has a chance to savor a moment of respite. As much as they can get these days. If only to talk about things that long need to be spoken.
“Basira says we should all sleep in the same room tonight,” Jon says without looking up. “Safer. So we can keep an eye out for intruders and also each other.”
“So we’re having a proper sleepover then?”
Jon scoffs. “Technically we’ve been having a proper one for months.”
where i go, when i go there by rainny_days [T] [1.7k]
Martin wants Jon to hold his hand. Martin doesn't want Jon to hold his hand.
It's complicated.
all the other ways by AptlyNamed [G] [2.2k]
Jon loses his first soul mark when he is eight years old.
a palace from ruin by bibliocratic [G] [2.2k]
"What're you sorry for?” Martin asks.
“I should have asked,” Jon says finally. “I'd never.... you were always so private about him, so I mean, at first I wasn't sure he was even yours, but then – when you, when you went with Peter, and I – he was so small, and I thought he was h-half-dead. S-so I picked him up and I carried him. And I'm sorry.”
interiors by doomcountry [T] [2.7k]
In the doorway, he fumbles with his keys. Their sound is loud in the silent stairwell. You don’t remember getting here.
searching for a light (for a right) by Kalgalen [T] [2.7k]
Some people make the mistake of assuming he's naive about sex, for the simple reason he hasn't dated in a while. Tim has called him a prude, at one point, and implied that he was somehow afraid of the intimacy required by the act; he wasn’t entirely wrong, but this definitely isn’t the reason for Jon's disinterest and general bafflement toward what most people seemed to consider as "what makes them human".
Jon simply hasn't found the right person. That is all it is: high standards, and a reticence to let people in.
(In which Jon finds out society is wrong about what a romantic relationship should be.)
how to plant a garden in rocky soil by treeprince [T] [2.9k]
Sometimes you just need a good pair of hands to work out all the kinks in your life.
Good thing Martin has two.
A Weather In The Flesh by cuttooth [G] [3k]
"There is a span of years where Jon doesn’t touch anyone other than the occasional hand shake. It’s not so bad. He’s never been someone who’s needed physical affection."
*
Jon has never been any good at making people want to stick around.
I'll bring the motion by callmearctus [T] [3.1k]
A long series of kidnappings and international flights leaves its own special mark on someone. Before the Unknowing, Jon is a mess.
Martin helps.
A Bread Made In Heaven by Againstme [G] [3.3k]
Martin moves over and watches how his boyfriend handles the dough. He's awkward with it, tentative and gentle, as if he's scared of hurting it somehow.
"Is this, uh, am I doing this right?" Jon asks, still slowly stretching out the dough and folding it onto itself.
"Well," he says shifting closer to Jon again, "you could be applying more pressure. Here, let me help you out, dear."
Martin moves fully behind Jon, and reaches around him, putting his hands on top of his boyfriend's. Jon inhales sharply, but doesn't say anything else, just lets Martin's hand rest on top of his.
Martin's hands are bigger, but not big enough to entirely envelop the other's hands, and Jon's hands are much, much warmer than his own are. To see what they're doing, Martin moves his head to look over Jon's shoulder. Though he can't see his boyfriend's face from this angle, he can see how it is slowly growing red at the edge of his vision. He decides not to tease him on it, instead content with letting a smile spread across his face and slowly guiding their joined hands in the proper motion.
Or, Martin teaches Jon how to make bread.
stumbling and spinning by lady_mab [G] [3.3k]
“Things happened,” Jon says demurely, trying to untangle Gerry’s fingers, but it only results in him getting pulled in so Gerry can kiss him properly. “It’s not all that bad.”
“I suppose not,” Gerry says with a sigh, sitting back upright. “You somehow managed to snag an incredible boyfriend out of it.”
It takes a solid few seconds before realization clicks in Martin’s brain. “You mean me?” [...]
“You have to admit, Jon has great tastes,” Gerry teases.
nothing sweeter than local honey by beeclaws [T] [3.4k]
So Tim is content, one arm leaned into the spray, waiting for the water to warm, enjoying the feeling of homecoming underneath the gentle fuzz of jetlag, when he hears gasping, panicked breaths coming from the other room.
Tim and Jon, in the aftermath, relearning how to be okay.
When Words are Inadequate by Mugatu [T] [3.8k]
Meals and the preparation of are, for want of a better word, informative. Fact gathering. A place where they can fill in the gaps of their knowledge of the other.
Jon cooks for Martin, and they learn more about each other.
go softly by doomcountry [T] [4k]
And there is nothing else besides this.
Imago by cuttooth [T] [4k]
“Jon?” he asks tentatively, tightening his grip around the poker as it slips against his sweaty palm. The antennae twitch, and suddenly Martin knows that it’s Jon, the knowledge sliding into his mind in a surge of desperate affection, the same profound love he felt that first time he truly saw Jon in the fog of the Lonely.
“Oh,” he whispers. “It really is you.”
*
Jon changes, but he’s still the same to Martin.
shoreline by bibliocratic [G] [4.1k]
“Martin," Tim says kindly, tipsily, only mildly slurring. "Dearest, dearest Martin. You're wankered, babe. Last train to Stockwell fucked off hours ago because it is now piss off o'clock in the morning, and there's a sofa with your exact name on it at my place. Thought you said you wanted some handsome fellow to take you back to his tonight?”
Or: The OG Archive crew go drinking, Martin comes out, and gets some well deserved TLC. In that order.
get your epitaph right by bibliocratic [G] [4.2k]
Martin's daemon has tried on the shape of dogs and lizards and snakes and horses, and even – once, when he was younger and Mum took him to the seaside, a fish.
Martin's never seen his soul in the dressing of a spider before.
i've known the warmth of your doorways by beeclaws [T] [4.2k]
'I’m always in pain, Jon wants to say, even as he dismisses the thought as melodramatic. Between his growing collection of old wounds and scar tissue, the supernatural hunger for statements that hasn’t been truly satiated in months, and the unpredictable aches and strains his body threw off day by day long before he ever set foot in the Institute, some level of pain and discomfort follows Jon wherever he goes now. He is used to being in pain. He’s not used to someone holding his hand as he suffers through it.'
Jon catalogs the comforts he receives, and wonders how long he will be allowed to keep them.
lay down your weary head by Zykaben [T] [4.6k]
Jon has been running himself ragged, searching for every scrap of information he can possibly find about the Unknowing. He's exhausted and sleep-deprived but he can't bring himself to take a break, not now.
Luckily, Tim and Martin are there to make sure that their boyfriend gets the care and rest he needs.
only the sweetest words remain by bluejayblueskies [T] [4.6k]
This isn't how things are supposed to go, right? Jon remembers those ratty paperbacks from the charity shops, dime-a-dozen romance novels with broken bindings and yellowing pages and words that spoke of love and passion and sexuality in prose that was more than a bit too mature for someone whose age hadn’t yet reached double digits. Stolen glances turn into dinner dates turn into passionate kisses turn into…
Well, he’d never actually read those parts of the books, because it had all seemed so deeply uncomfortable and gross. But he got the picture.
Or, Jonathan Sims, on being loved
5k-20k
and they keep not letting go by Marianne_Dashwood [G] [5k]
It’s an electric feeling, something strange and new and familiar all at once, even though he has been holding Martin’s hand for most of the day. His stomach swoops, like he is standing on the edge of the precipice of realisation and staring into the void of unknowing. But at the same time, he does know. In this instant of contact between them, the last few years of cups of tea and small smiles and momentary glances, of panic and fear and only feeling safe with Martin’s solid presence in the room, despite his paranoia, rush into him, and oh, oh oh.
ready to call this love by yewgrove [G] [5.6k]
How is Martin supposed to tell Jon that he panicked, stupidly, when the lovely old lady down the village asked him what they were doing in this part of the world? Got the shopping! Oh, by the way, we're married now! Whole village thinks we're on our honeymoon, hope you don't mind!
Prenons-nous la main by luftballons99 [T] [6k]
They still haven't talked about it, any of it, not even to pass the time on the long train ride to Scotland. Instead, Martin fell asleep in the seat next to him, pressed into his side from shoulder to knee, and Jon thought about love confessions and verb tense and how the two fit together when you think you're dying.
or: Good cows, mediocre poetry, and other crucial topics of discussion.
This Must Be The Place by cuttooth [T] [6k]
“You said – you said we were going home,” Martin says softly.
“I did,” says Jon, and is grateful that Martin doesn’t comment on him calling the Archives home. “I – I don’t really know where to go. I, uh, I don’t have a flat anymore, I don’t think. We could find a hotel?”
“Let’s go to my place,” says Martin. His hand squeezes Jon’s, more gently than before. Most importantly, Jon notes, he doesn’t let go.
*
Jon and Martin go home for a little while.
Small Things, Simple Acts by ZaliaChimera [T] [6.6k]
Even after leaving London, Jon and Martin are not free, not really. Maybe they never will be.
But for now they can be themselves, and maybe in the end, that's enough.
house by tomatoes [G] [9k]
Martin can take care of himself.
roses, roses, roses by acetheticallyy (judesstfrancis) [T] [9.3k]
Rose scented laundry detergent. Running into Jon in the breakroom. Running into Jon on his way back to his desk. Rose scented detergent. Running into Jon. Roses. Jon. Roses, roses, roses.
a deeply annoying child by ajkal2 [G] [9.6k]
Jon is hiding under the desk.
----
There's a child in the Archives, who shouldn't be there.
Inseparable by voiceless_terror [T] [10.3k]
“You can stay.” The voice interrupts his internal panic, and he looks over to find Jon studiously avoiding his gaze, staring hard at a neighboring bush. Martin wonders what caused his sudden change of heart. “But you have to sit on the other side. And don’t talk to me.”
Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood meet as children. Some things change, others do not.
i'm almost me again, you're almost you by gruhukens [G] [12k]
After a second Jon steps in towards him, close enough that Martin flinches, but all Jon does is put two fingers under his chin with his free hand and raise it until Martin can’t duck away. Jon has never touched him so casually before – at least, not until today, and it raises a lot of thoughts and feelings that Martin is trying very hard not to process.
Much like a lot of other things that have happened, he thinks. Not that it’s horrible or terrifying or numbing like everything else has been: it’s just another thing on the list of things he doesn’t have the capacity to deal with.
---
In the wake of the Lonely, there's a lot that Martin doesn't really want to think about.
hello my old heart by firebirdsuite [T] [15.8k]
Peter’s wrong, of course. When it’s all over, Martin does still want to tell Jon everything. It’s just—well, there’s a few things they need to work through first before they can get there.
Martin and Jon find each other again in Scotland.
Over 20k
The Kindness of Strangers by TheOestofOCs [M] [23k]
It was easier to treat Jon like a monster when he wasn’t shivering against his back, brokenly humming—wait, was that…
“Are you trying to do ‘Hey, Jude’?” Tim demanded.
Jon stopped, stiffening. “Mm hrmh mm mmh hm,” he said defensively.
“You really can’t hold a tune, can you, boss?”
*
It was just an ordinary walk to a restaurant. Tim had insisted that if they were going to talk, there would be no tape recorders or weird Archives ghosts listening in. A bit of fresh air wouldn’t kill him, Tim had said. What could go wrong?
By the time Jon spots the white delivery van, it’s much too late.
The Stranger kidnaps Jon. Tim comes along for the ride.
Misjudged by ShastaFirecracker [T] [36.5k]
Martin's been a longtime listener of What the Ghost, so when Georgie gives a shoutout to her flatmate's Twitch channel during a Q&A, he checks it out - only to discover that her flatmate is also his most terrifying coworker at his new job. The first time they crossed paths, Jon yelled at him for incompetence. But on the streams, Martin sees an entirely different person - someone fun and relaxed, engaging and unfairly attractive. Over time, Martin begins to find that Jon buried inside his dour, awkward coworker. He also learns to live with the fact that his crush is painfully one-sided... or is it?
if we make it through the night everyone is gonna hear us (Series) by skvadern [Ratings Vary] [42.4k]
In which Sasha survives the NotThem (with a little help from a certain Distortion) and she and Jon spend s2 working together to try and make sense of everything that's happening to them. It goes...interestingly
the garden of forking paths by bibliocratic [T] [49.7k]
Whatever he had predicted might happen, Jon wasn't expecting to survive upon demolishing the Panopticon. He certainly wasn't expecting to be rescued.
Instead, he wakes up in an alternative universe where he's never been the Archivist, and Martin Blackwood doesn't exist.
Martin Blackwood wakes up somewhere else entirely.
it's only forever by lady_mab [T] [50.9k]
“The castle at the center of the labyrinth,” Jon breathes, recalling again the words from one of the past conversations with Martin. “He’s there.”
“Turn back, Jonathan,” the Goblin King says, and Jon is surprised to hear a slight edge of desperation in the tone. “Turn back before it’s too late.”
“I can’t,” Jon answers with the same tone. “You know that I can’t.”
The Goblin King’s grin is gone completely, and he regards Jon with a degree of pity before that melts into resignation.
Yesterday is Here by CirrusGrey [T] [53.3k]
"Who the hell are you?" Jon could feel his hands shaking.
The man laughed, taking a step forward and raising a hand to point at him.
"I'm you, from the future!" he said, then swayed, eyes going unfocused, and collapsed to the floor in a dead faint.
--------
Post-season-four Jon and Martin time travel back to the season one Archives.
A Home For What Loves You by TheWrongShop [T] [151k]
It was completely fine that Jon was following up on this very normal, non-supernatural statement at midnight on a Friday. He was going to find nothing at all, and then he was going to go home and sleep for fourteen straight hours and feel absolutely no qualms about moving case #0150409 directly into the filing cabinet marked "discredited".
Or; Jon and Martin end up investigating Carlos Vittery's basement and finding the entity formerly known as Jane Prentiss together.
RATED E *MINORS DNI*
A Look And A Voice by cuttooth [E] [6.9k]
“Do you want to have sex with me?” Jon asks bluntly, and for a second Martin can’t breathe.
“It - it doesn’t matter what I - ” he begins valiantly, before Jon interrupts him.
“Because I want to have sex with you, and frankly it doesn’t matter if you think it’s for the wrong reasons. I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions. The only thing that matters is if you want to as well.”
*
Martin meets a guy in a bar and takes him home.
Warms The Coldest Night by cuttooth [E] [11k]
"Flame that warms the coldest night
Bring to us the waxing Light,
Be with us on Solstice Night."
Gypsy - Bring Back The Light
There is mistletoe hanging in the doorway to the Archives when Jon gets in.
Curiosity by ShastaFirecracker [E] [11.6k]
“You know that conversation we had the other day about how one of the most important things for queer youth to learn is that it's okay to change their minds, because identity and self-discovery are always fluid?”
Behind him, Martin slipped oven mitts over his hands and pulled open the oven door. The scent of garlic and rosemary flooded the kitchen. “Yeah?” he said.
“I, um... I'd like to revisit the topic of sex.”
At the Interim (Series) by Rend_Herring [E] [41k]
A Measure Outside the Lines and The Residuum
triptych (Series) by Stacicity [E] [44.9k]
A collection of Jon/Tim/Martin fics
a steady hand, a delicate man by callmearctus [E] [52.8k]
Martin is the proprietor and manager of a very discrete and fairly exclusive brothel situated between Belgravia and Chelsea. Blackwood House excels at special requests and pleasing any client.
Except for Jon, who probably has never been pleased a day in his entire life.
Despite that, he still comes back. It eventually begs the question: how do you solve a problem like Jon Sims?
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okay the more I think about this, the more I like this idea
So, premise is that I'm not sold on Tim as Red Hood in reverse batfam AUs, since like if any of them Get why Batman can't kill (both as like the symbol/title bc otherwise GPD couldn't be friendly or tolerant of the Bat as an official stance, and as like a personal line for Bruce), it'd be Tim imo.
so I'm thinking, it'd be interesting if his death wasn't caused by Joker (passe, tired, society has progressed past the need for Joker), and instead the second Batlad's death was caused by a freak accident in the middle of a Riddler scheme. It's the kind of thing where, yeah Riddler caused them to be in the situation, but the death itself isn't *really* Riddler's fault. It's tragic and a lot of blame all around and a lot of ppl blaming themselves. Riddler retires from villainy afterwards out of grief and guilt tho.
Years later, when Jason is the new Batlad (I think he still tried to steal the wheels off the Batmobile, but he gave Bruce a much-needed wakeup call when he like hit him with a tire iron and shouted how everyone on the streets knows to avoid the Bat now since Batlad died, everyone knows he's gotten more brutal and less discerning and almost as bad as the villains, or even worse bc at least some of the rogues abide by honor amongst thieves/the street folk. etc etc Batman takes him to Bruce who takes him in, Jason is suspicious bc why would the Bat take him to Bruce of all ppl even tho it's an open secret the Bat is funded by Wayne, maybe even a rumor that the Bat IS Bruce Wayne, and he finds the Cave and extorts Bruce into taking him on as Batlad, partly so Jason can also give back and partly so he can keep an eye on Bruce, the big dummy)-
But years later, a new.... villain? vigilante? antihero? emerges, calling himself Enigma. He sets up these elaborate tests of morality for bad guys - not necessarily rogues but like. corrupt politicians, dirty cops, biased judges or prosecutors, etc. - wherein they're given an elaborate scheme, kind of like a Saw trap ig but it's always fair, there's always a chance for the person to make a moral choice/personal sacrifice that shows they're more than just corrupt or self-serving. Batman thinks it's Edward Nygma, come out of retirement to dabble in the antihero field, and tracks him down- but no, he is retired, and has been growing his business designing and selling escape room designs for years now. He has no clue who this new guy is or what his deal is. So back to square one.
The first couple times, this new Engima guy is pretty good at diverting Batman from interfering and his schemes go off, more often to the detriment/death of the guy being tested- tho a couple times it did work and the ppl in it came out changed. Traumatized, ofc lol, but like with a change in perspective and priority. But eventually, Batman starts wising up to the diversions, and eventually it's revealed that Enigma is Tim. And, well, the clues WERE there for Bruce to see, if he'd just seen them.
I think this works w Tim not being able to fully return to the fold, bc like having died himself he knows just how incentivizing for personal change the threat of real actual death can be. He may not be setting out to kill people, but he's also not averse to setting up situations where they may well die. Maybe as he starts returning more to the fold, he pivots to being sort of Oracle-like, where he deals more with information and giving the Batfam tip-offs and leads or info support, in addition to like patrolling on the ground maybe. But like, patrolling wouldn't be his main gig, I feel like he'd become sort of information mastermind/broker, the way Jason took on being like a mob boss so he could control the trade better to prevent kids from getting involved, etc.
But anyway, for me I feel like this works as a concept better, where Tim is the one who died and came back and then occupies a sort of Batfam adjacent but unable to bring himself back fully into the fold concept, vs a straight "Tim is Red Hood" concept.
#dc blogging#tim drake#jason todd#Damian would be the first Batlad and he'd choose to leave the position and strike out on his own#idk what title he'd take on maaaybe Black Bat but torn abt that bc that's Cass's thing....#but I feel like Black Bat does make sense as a name as like. a stepping point between Batlad and like. when he assumes the Batman mantle#ofc if Damian is Black Bat as his young adult title then it sets up for Jason to become Red Bat when he ages out of Batlad lol#ofc when Dickie comes on the scene he will be Robin :) but yeah like. I don't think there should be Robin before Dick in these AUs#like. it's *his mother's name* for him! Batman has no reason to come up w Robin#and then when Dickie comes he starts naming everything Bat-everything#and inevitably the Cave is now Batcave and Batman's car which was just The Car is now the Batmobile#and various things become increasingly more Bat-themed to Dick's mounting amusement and delight
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Hope on Board
Chapter 8 – Walking My Baby Back Home
Chapter 1 Chapter 7
“Are you sure you should be lifting that?” Dick asked anxiously. “Maybe I should…” He reached out and grabbed the bolts of fabric out of Marinette’s hands. Marinette squeaked in surprise as the weight of the fabric was suddenly lifted, nearly falling backward from the shift in weight. Dick groaned under the unexpected weight, not expecting fabric to weigh so much.
“What are you doing?” She asked amused.
“You’re pregnant. You shouldn’t be carrying this much weight,” Dick insisted. “How were you carrying this much weight? I swear this weighs more than you do.”
Marinette chuckled. “This? This is nothing. I grew up in a bakery and helped stock the flour. Do you know how much one of those bags weighs?” She looked away with an indulgent smile to look through more fabric.
Dick cocked his head to the side to think about her question. How much did industrial sized bags of flour weigh? He honestly had no idea. But the idea of Marinette, little tiny, pixie-sized Marinette carrying heavy loads didn’t seem possible. “No. How much?”
Marinette blinked a few times not expecting the response to her rhetorical question. She wrinkled her nose as she thought about it. Dick smiled at her expression, wishing his hands were free to pull her into a tight hug and snuggle. “Um... I don't know in American measurements. But a lot. Like… 1000 hooves.”
Dick blinked at her a few times this time. He looked at her uncertainly. Was that a French term? Was it a mistranslation? That couldn’t have been what she meant to say. It had to be a baking term. “Hooves?”
“I don't know. I made up a unit, just like Americans do. So, 1000 hooves.” She nodded in confirmation.
Dick leaned his head back to fully laugh, eyes crinkling, chest rocking. Marinette took a moment from her search to appreciate how gorgeous he was when he laughed. “Wow. That much huh?” She nodded solemnly. “I apologize for doubting you. Now quit foal-ing around. What do you think of these fabrics? Yay or neigh?”
Marinette stared at him open mouthed for a few seconds. “No. Nope. Nuh uh. I already have to deal with Papa and Adrien. You are not allowed to make puns too.”
“So you’re saying I need to reign it in or you’ll bolt?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. She rolled her eyes at him but couldn’t stop herself from giggling and he laughed again. He stared at her for a few more seconds before sighing. “I wish I wasn’t carrying these so I could kiss you.”
Marinette looked back in surprise until a sultry smile overtook her lips. “You could always set them down on the cutting table over there, you know.”
Dick followed where she was pointing and grinned back. He quickly made his way to the table to drop off the bolts and rushed back to her side, picking her up as he rushed to her, then backed up between two overstuffed aisles. Marinette let out a surprised giggle that turned into a full belly laugh at his excitement. Dick’s watched her dreamily as she laughed. “I hope our baby laughs like you.”
Marinette quieted immediately and looked at him in awe for a few moments. She smiled lovingly and traced the smile on his lips. “I hope the baby has your smile,” she looked up to peer in his eyes, “and your eyes. You have the most beautiful eyes and the most captivating smile. Your smile makes it hard to remember my name sometimes.”
Dick gazed at her, studying her features and thinking again how lucky he was to have her. How amazing she was, kind, thoughtful, brilliant, creative, brave… he could list attributes all day. “I like your eyes and smile better. I guess we’ll have to have a second so they can have yours. And that one can have my laugh.”
Marinette gaped at him, her face turned deep red. “Um… how about we get this one out before we plan the next one.”
Dick’s face fell. He’d pushed too far. He’d gotten carried away again. He was going to scare her at this rate. He stopped when he felt Marinette’s kiss on his lips. He melted into the kiss and moved to deepen it. She pulled away after a few moments. “I like that combination though. And once I don’t feel like throwing up constantly, maybe we can think about starting to practice for the next one.”
Dick’s face lit up and he nodded excitedly, but quickly became concerned. “How are you feeling now? Need to sit down? Need water or food?”
Marinette giggled and pecked his lips quickly. “I’m okay for now, but I anticipate needing something in my stomach in like… twenty minutes.”
Dick furrowed his brow. “We should probably get going then. It’ll take that long to find someplace and order.”
Marinette looked around anxiously. “Good point, but I’m not done. It’s… I need more time. I don’t want to have to come back. I’m actually feeling not terrible for a few moments today. I can push it a bit.”
Dick shook his head and leaned his forehead on hers. “The baby doesn’t like being pushed. It’s quite insistent. I’ll grab something quick and not messy from the store next door. That should give you a bit more time, right?”
Marinette looked up at him relieved. “Yes, thank you. A snack should help.”
“I mean, I’m already right here,” he gave her a sly grin. She cocked her head to the side in confusion. “I’m a snack and I’m right here for you.”
“Oh my God,” her cheeks flushed and she buried her head in his chest. She shook her head and gave him a playfully dirty look as he folded over in laughter. “Believe me, I agree. You are. But, how about one the baby can appreciate, not just me?”
He smiled and kissed her temple. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay. It should just be a few more minutes. Like… thirty minutes?” She offered apologetically.
It was not. It was two hours and several snacks later by the time she had finally compared, sketched, tested, and finally selected the fabrics and taken them to get cut. But that wasn’t the end of it like Dick expected. That just led to the next phase in shopping, the accessories. She scrounged through all of the buttons, zippers, clasps, inserts, thread, and ribbon.
Dick had never known there was this much thought in an outfit. And this was supposedly just a quick trip. He couldn’t imagine a full trip. He would have to make sure to be busy when that happened… unless she wanted his company or asked, in which case he’d say yes. He sighed at himself. He was whipped. He looked over at Marinette’s shining face and couldn’t bring himself to care that he was. He would happily be whipped for her as long as he got to see that smile and be a cause for it. No matter what she said, he hoped their baby had her smile. All of them.
“Hey, there’s a good little diner around here. Want to get lunch there?” He asked when she was finally done and had arranged for them to drop it off later.
Marinette nodded happily. “Yes. I think the little one wants food now. No more snacks.” She absentmindedly rubbed her flat stomach. The motion made Dick smile. She was already so protective of the baby, which he could understand, he was too, of the baby and her. He pulled her closer into his side and leaned down to kiss her cheek. She looked back up at him with a brilliant smile and oh yeah, he was gone.
As soon as they walked into the diner, there was a loud, enthusiastic greeting for Dick from an older woman and a smile from the man in the kitchen who had peeked around to see him. “Dickie! It’s been too long. How are you?” She brought him in for a hug. Before he could answer she looked over at Marinette with a kind smile. “And who is this? Don’t tell me someone has finally caught you.”
Marinette smiled back at her and waved. “Hi. I’m Marinette, madame.”
The woman moved quickly to pull Marinette in for a hug as well. “Now, none of that. I’m Kora. Any friend of Dickie’s is family here.”
Marinette giggled and looked up at Dick with an impressed gaze. “Dickie is that good, huh?”
“Best teacher my grandson ever had. Only one to get him interested in something constructive. But, come, come. You didn’t come here to chat.” She showed them to a table. “Here are a few menus. Let me know when you’re ready to order.”
“Actually, I wouldn’t mind catching up for a second. How is Eddie? How about Rachel?” Dick spoke up before she could get far away.
“Oh, you know Eddie. He’s trying to stay out of trouble, but not too hard. It doesn’t help that the police keep an eye on him constantly. Makes him jumpy. Makes all of us jumpy. Rachel is doing great. Eddie’s making sure she stays safe. More responsibility than a young kid should take on, but what else can you do? She loves school. Taken a liking to clothing if you can believe it.” Marinette perked up instantly. “Decided she’s going to start designing them at fourteen. Saves money I suppose.”
“Would she like to see someone do it? Design I mean?” Kora looked at her questioningly. “I’m a designer. I actually moved here because I’m working on designs with Wayne Enterprises. I could take her with me to a meeting, if they are okay with it. There’s some top secret things going on, so they might not want anyone else there, but if they’re okay with it, I can show her the process.”
Kora looked over to Dick looking for his input, but Dick was too engrossed looking at Marinette in awe to see Kora’s inquiry. Kora laughed at him. That was endorsement enough for her. “Yeah, I think she’d like that. I’ll give you my number. We can arrange something.”
Marinette smiled excitedly and bounced in her seat. “That sounds great!” She looked back over to Dick as he took her hand.
“We better order before you start feeling sick. Know what you want?” When she nodded, they both placed their orders.
“I was fourteen when I started entering design contests,” Marinette said excitedly. “Hey, do you think Tim would be interested in sponsoring a design contest for kids? I think kids like Rachel and me at that age, would really love it.”
Dick smiled proudly at her. “I really think he would. And I think Jason would probably be willing to help out too.”
Marinette nodded decidedly. “I’ll talk to Tim about it at our meeting on Monday, the contest and Rachel.” She looked to the side for a moment and returned her gaze to him with a sly look. “So… you teach gymnastics to kids?”
Dick looked down shyly. “When I can. I haven’t in about a year because of other obligations, but… I miss it. I really liked doing it.”
“I would pay to see that. I bet it’s adorable.”
He smiled at the memory of the kids. “Yeah they were.”
“Them too.” She smirked and took a drink of her water, enjoying the sight of Dick blushing. Her expression slowly morphed to more dreamy. “Maybe you can teach our baby.”
Dick perked up at the idea. “I can’t wait. I started when I was in diapers. I’d like to pass that on to my kids. Oh, speaking of that, I was wondering if you might be interested in doing some pregnancy yoga classes or we can YouTube it and do it at home.”
“We?”
He shrugged. “I thought it might be something we could do together.”
“Yeah. I think that might be fun.” She squeezed his hand and blushed when he pulled her hand up to his lips to kiss the inside of her wrist.
They pulled apart when Kora came back with their food. She gave them a knowing look as she set the food down for them. “Young love. You two are adorable.”
Marinette blushed but Dick grinned. “Hey, Kora?” Dick spoke up before she could turn to leave. “What do you mean the cops are keeping an eye on Eddie?”
Kora sighed out. “It’s like they’re waiting for him to mess up. They’re constantly watching him. We try to make sure he’s never alone and there’s always surveillance cameras somewhere but it’s just about impossible. Honestly, I almost trust the gangs more. At least they’ll try to keep him safe.”
Dick shook his head. “I didn’t realize it was that bad.”
Kora shrugged. “No accountability and a gun. Who’s going to stop them?” With that, she walked away to let them eat, leaving Dick to consider her words.
<><><><><>
“So you’ve been doing gymnastics since you were in diapers?” Marinette prompted Dick as they walked hand in hand through a park on their way back to her apartment.
Yep,” Dick confirmed doing an aerial front flip without breaking his stride.
Marinette pulled him to a stop so she could gape at him. “Oh yeah, by all means, pretend that’s completely normal.”
“What?” Dick asked innocently.
“Don’t give me that, show off.”
“What that ? Oh! That. That was nothing. You should see what I could do if I was trying.” Dick shrugged casually, but the smug grin on his lips gave him away.
“Oh yeah, I could do that too, if the idea of being upside down didn’t make me want to throw up. But just wait, in 10 months or so, I’ll show you a cartwheel that will knock your socks off,” she mock threatened him.
He grinned, a sincere, warm look in his eyes. “I can’t wait to see it.” He did a side flip into a walk out without losing his breath. “I’m going to have our baby out doing you by the time he or she is one.”
Marinette playfully narrowed her eyes at him. “Okay Mister gymnastics is in my blood. Let’s see what you can do when you try.”
Dick grinned and leaned down for a quick kiss before moving a bit away to start. “Don’t blink, you’ll miss some amazing moves,” he winked at her before launching into a completely unprepared gymnastic routine. He did flip after flip, moving through the air with an ease she didn’t even think she had even as Ladybug. He jumped on the back of a bench with a single fluid movement, using it to launch into a double summersault flip. It went on for a few minutes at dizzying speed before his finale, using a water fountain to give him enough height for a triple flip. Only he didn’t quite land it right. He landed in an awkward, painful looking roll until he was laid flat out on his stomach.
Marinette stopped breathing as she waited for him to move. After a few seconds he still hadn’t moved. Her heart faltered. “Dick?” her voice was weak and uncertain. “Dick? Are you… are you okay?” the anxiety was becoming more apparent with every word. “Dick!” she ran to him, cursing herself for encouraging him and pushing him. “Dick!” Her hands were trembling as she turned him over to face her.
He looked up at her with a radiant smile. “I guess this means I fell hard for you.”
She stared at him for a few seconds while he curled up from laughing so hard. Tears started falling down Marinette’s cheeks while Dick continued to laugh. He immediately froze when he heard her let out a sob. He looked up at Marinette but she wasn’t kneeling above him anymore. She had backed up a few feet and was sobbing into her knees. “Marinette?” He reached out for her tentatively, her whole body was shaking. “Marinette? Are you okay?” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t funny. I’m sorry,” he whispered over and over again in her ear, breaking it up with the occasional kiss to her temple.
After a few minutes her cries started to quiet. Dick brushed her bangs out of her eyes and wiped away her tears. “I’m sorry, Marinette. I wasn’t expecting you to take it so seriously.”
Marinette’s eyes flashed from distressed to anger in the span of a second. She backed away and shoved him in the shoulder. She wanted to punch him instead but she wasn’t at a good angle to punch his perfect jaw and even as upset as she was, she knew that wasn’t okay. “Seriously? I wasn’t supposed to take it seriously?” Dick stared at her in confusion… and pain. That seriously hurt. “I thought I pushed the father of my baby into killing himself. I thought you got hurt or broke your neck because of me. I thought you were hurt and I caused it,” she repeated again, tears starting to form again.
Dick’s expression softened and turned to guilt. He was an idiot. She was pregnant. Her hormones were going crazy. Not that he was stupid enough to mention that in his apology. He watched her cry over a commercial the other day, not even a particularly sad one. She was not in the frame of mind to accept jokes like this. “I’m sorry,” he said again as he rubbed her arms and pulled her back into his chest. “That was thoughtless and mean. I’m sorry.”
After a few minutes she pulled away just enough to look up at him through glassy eyes. “No, I’m sorry. I absolutely should not have shoved you. Normally I would have just rolled my eyes and pushed you back down, but these damn hormones.”
Dick nodded. Again, not something he wasn’t going to agree with verbally though. “Maybe I’ll do it again later.”
Marinette scoffed but pushed further into his embrace. “Nope that one is done. You’re going to have to come up with a new one. I’m sure you can do something with flipping or flopping or making your heart do cartwheels.”
Dick grinned and hugged her closer. “You’re taking all the best ones.”
Marinette smiled back and wound her arms around his neck. “I already have the best one.” She pulled him down for a kiss pushing all her anxiety and relief into it.
Chapter 9
Tags:
@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo
#maribat#Dickinette February#dickinette#Hope on Board#Knocked Up AU#platonic jasonette#platonic adrienette#prompt - smile
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the wrong reasons
RISS’ NOTE: food for .. tsum tsum fuckers <3 this is also dedicated to @agaassi !! ilysm mrs. miya mwa mwa
big thanks to @drabblily for beta reading !
CHARACTER PAIRING: fwb!atsumu miya/f!reader
WC: 5.1k
WARNING/s: nsfw/smut, vaginal sex, blowjob, riding, some cock warming, dirty talk, crying, slight crack + angst + fluff
today was indeed a bad day for you. thoughts filled your head with the recent fight you had with a friend that left your heart broken. but the show must go on, you and your friends with benefits agreed specifically on this day, so you just can't just say no. sighing once the elevator doors open, you make small but quick strides on the way to the front door. you rung the doorbell to his apartment complex, hoping you could get your mind off of your problems for a while with him.
it was, after all, something he accomplished without fail.
upon hearing the doorbell ring, atsumu loosely hangs a towel over his nape, hair still damp after just having taken a shower. he makes quick strides, soon opening the door with a small grin. "took ya long enough, babe," he greets, eyes watching you enter as he subtly checked you out.
"head over to the room. i'll be there in a second," he takes the towel hung around his neck to rub his hair before he heads over back to the bathroom. you playfully punched his arm, rolling your eyes with a smile at his use of the pet name you somehow can't get used to. you discarded your shoes, hanging your coat by the rack.
"alright, babe," you mimicked while making your way to his bedroom, plopping down on the soft mattress and lying down to release the tension while fiddling with the ends of your sleeves. distracted by your own thoughts, you failed to take notice of his presence.
after he's gone to take care of his necessities, he followed you shortly in the bedroom - only clad in loose shorts with a hand running through his half-damp, half-dry hair.
"so, what'dya wanna do? missionary? doggy style?"
he stated positions of names that they'd try out. he's not that picky - just a preference as long as he got his dick wet. still, he used to think of fucking you for his own pleasure. nowadays however, he's been slowly easing himself and taking his time. focusing on making it worthwhile for the both of you.
"damn, that's a first.." slightly taken aback by his sudden change of heart, you dodge the towel hurdling towards your direction with a giggle.
"i'll go with your flow. besides, you're the one who called me over," you point out, removing your sweater, leaving you adorned in a lacy bralette and skirt, ridding your hair from the pony tail.
"what's the plan, tsumu?" you leaned on the bed with your elbows propped up. under that mask of provocation was one of despondence, but you’d rather hide that from him - he wouldn't care anyways.
atsumu walks over to the bed, knee dipping over as his weight is added on, hand reaching behind you for support while he cups your cheek with his right.
"ya don't mind riding my cock right? not really feelin' like doin' so much work t'day," he smirks lightly, leaning in to snag a quick kiss, tongue licking over your lip to tease you. he pulls back, moving over to your side as he awaits for your next move.
"alright you tease," you rolled your eyes for the nth time, pulling away from the kiss when you felt like you were getting too into it. what a jerk. nonetheless, your face featured a smirk - one that matches with his own. as if immediately, you straddled him, placing yourself on his lap, clothed sexes rubbing onto each other. your lips attack his soft ones hungrily, hands finding its way to his hair, fingers entangled with his fluffy locks.
a soft groan slipped past his lips, jutting his hips upwards to directly rub his bulge against your clothed heat, hands squeezing your hips - mouth pulling away to kiss your neck, repeatedly attacking and sucking everywhere his mouth got on; teeth nipping on skin, red marks forming after every trail.
atsumu slowly dry humped you, controlling the slight pace and direction of how your hips rolled languidly against his, but never going further than that. he did say you’d do most of the work.
"c'mon, doll. m'sure ya could do more," he murmurs against your collarbone, half-lidded eyes flickering upwards to momentarily meet with yours. a calloused hand reached over your behind, cupping your ass and squeezing softly, smirking coyly from the small pleased sigh that left your lips. you let out a sigh of satisfaction from the action - the way atsumu’s hands grabbed onto your ass felt like a puzzle meant to be complete at some point.
in reality, your half assed humps were a result of your mind overthinking the dilemma you so desperately wanted to forget. " oh, i'll do more just you wait," you snapped back, kisses trailing down to his bulge - ridding him of his shorts and boxers, grabbing his length in your small hands as you slowly pumped it. you lock gazes with him as you took his whole length in your mouth, gag reflexes close to none from doing this countless times.
atsumu lets out a grunt, hand flying towards your hair as he slightly forces you to bob your head faster - tucking away stray hairs that got in the way of your face.
"look at ya, taking my cock like the good girl you are," he murmurs under his breath, groaning from when you started to deep-throat him. his grip soon turned even tighter, hissing ever so slightly when he felt your hands fondle his sack, making his balls tighten from your warm touch.
"come on, babe. you can do more can't ya?"
you stopped for a second to give him a look as if you were pondering on something - right until you resumed back to sucking his cock almost immediately. your tongue swirled at the tip of his shaft, using both hands to pump his length while bobbing your head up and down. moans vibrate against his dick, the tug at your hair turning you on the slightest. and for a second, you forgot about what you were lamenting about in the first place. your only goal was to please him.
"fuck, suck it just like that," he juts his hips upwards, slowly fucking your throat as he felt your teeth graze the edge of his girth. head thrown back, he let another pleased groan leave his lips. he wasn't ashamed. you sucked his dick so well, why wouldn't he be vocal? dirty praise and sighs were mumbled each time, dick twitching every so often inside your mouth - tongue lapping up by the prominent veins over his cock. "s-so.. fuckin' hot," he sputters, cursing under his breath.
the sight of him squirming beneath your touch was something to behold as you took in his form from where you were. eyeing his expressions full of ecstasy, all the while sucking his dick like no tomorrow. you liked it when he fucked your throat - moaning at the impact of his hips connecting to your mouth; every tug at your precious strands of hair sent a powerful throb in your core.
your moans were no comparison to his. every lick and suck on his hard cock while each of his groans and grunts grew louder - close to push him to the edge of a climax. you continue to pump his length with both of your hands, quickening the pace.
"shit- i'm close," atsumu releases a ragged breath, feeling his cock throb from the way your hot mouth felt on his sex. he now had two hands on your head, forcibly thrusting his dick in and out of your mouth while your hands still fondled his balls.
"fuckfuckfuck- cumming- m'cummin'-!" he spurts his load directly inside your eager mouth, groaning in satisfaction with each spurt of cum that shoots from his shaft. he pulls out, a lazy grin contorting on his face. "open yer mouth, babe. let me see you swallow it all,"
the familiar sweet yet salty taste of his cum filled your mouth, leaving some to coat your luscious lips. you slowly opened your mouth enough for his entertainment, gradually swallowing the creamy white substance.
you licked the remains of his cum that was left on your fingers, moaning in fulfillment at the taste you seemed to have favored. a perk in getting a pro athlete to be your fuck buddy was that they actually had a healthy diet. you zoned out a bit, train of thought still filled with the doubts from earlier.
of course the fight you had recently wasn't that easy to forget. your (now) ex-friend left you feeling worthless. but there was no time to sulk, no tears left to cry - at least that's what you thought. you didn’t think atsumu would notice anyway.
he pats his thigh, eyes observing your somewhat forlorn expression. "somethin' wrong there?"
atsumu pulls you up by the arm, easily transferring you to his lap; half-hard groin brushing against your inner thigh. he hisses lightly but still kept his focus on your face. "ya alright?" atsumu wasn't sure when he'd gotten a bit more keen on your attitude since you got here, but he could more or less tell something was bothering you.
as much as he'd want to stuff you full and rearrange your guts, he'd rather know what the hell made you seem so dull and not happy that you’d just have sucked nearly the soul out of him.
"yeah, yeah- i'm cool.. we're cool.”
you dismiss it almost immediately, attempting to laugh it off in which you kind of regret. it was true that whenever someone asks if you were alright - in which you aren't, you could cry on sight. "nothing for you to worry about,"
you avoid his fiery gaze, eyes flickering everywhere but his eyes as you tried to blink the tears back into your system. before the male could utter another word, you position your entrance on by his erection, folds kissing the tip of his cock. you slowly bring yourself down, letting his shaft invade your velvety walls.
atsumu wasn't able to ask further upon feeling your tight hole suck in his cock. "f-fuck- so goddamn tight," his hands find its way back to your waist, rolling his hips against yours to fully sheath his length inside. he does not believe a single word that you had uttered. you were avoiding it. but how else would he focus his attention on two things at a time when your pussy took in his dick so fucking well? no matter how many times they'd fuck, your cunt was as tight as ever - fitting nicely around him; almost as if your dirty and needy pussy was made for him.
despite his fair share of past flames, he couldn't get enough of you. even if it was a friends with benefits situation. he doesn't know what it was that drew him to you- being fuck buddies for nearly 3 months and counting has been a wild ride. the mutual agreement between you two was unspoken, but it hangs there. they weren't supposed to fall in love.
pushing himself back to reality, he thrusts up, cursing.
you let out a shaky moan, the feeling of bliss from getting fucked overtook your senses. his dick felt so good inside; invading your tight walls which only clenched even further around him. your hips started rolling in tandem with his own. you needed this, you wanted this. and yet you couldn't bring yourself to fully enjoy it.
you felt bad for dragging atsumu into your mess. the male was only looking forward to pleasure after all; at least, that's what you would assume. and if things couldn't get any worse, the tears start welling up right then and there. your whimpers were blended with ecstasy, yet they were full of the gloominess that slowly crept up on you.
you didn't know if it was the pang in your heart or if it was the pleasure your pussy has indulged in. you felt so pathetic, so stupid. you thought this was the only thing you needed, but in reality, all you needed was reassurance and comfort.
he snaps his hips with a bit more ferocity, grinning when he's elicited shaky moans and whimpers from your ample lips; a vexatious smirk curving on his lips upon feeling you clamp down on his length, eyes nearly rolling back. "yeah, just like that, baby - fuck yourself on my cock- shit-"
atsumu cuts himself off with a small growl, fingernails digging in on your flesh. he peers back down with one eye open, immediately cutting off the lust and slight ache of his cock upon seeing your eyes well up with tears. he curses under his breath, hand reaching up to wipe them away with his thumb. "hey, hey- why're ya cryin?" slight panic coursed through him. did he fuck up or something? jesus.
"does somethin’ hurt? was my dick in too deep?" concern laced his voice heavily, even if his cock was still hard.
"n-no it's not.. it- it's just -" and there it was. the water works. tears cascaded down your cheeks endlessly, hanging your head low as your hands violently brushed away the endless waterfall of tears away - as if that could help. you were in too deep in your own misery.
"i'm s-sorry 'tsumu," you apologize, not expecting to bring your own baggage in your supposed lustful sex. you felt guilty for ruining the mood, for ruining his mood specifically.
crying in front of him - for the first time - was not part of the plan. at all. but here they are now, in the most awkward situation a fuck buddy could ever face - more specifically to you. you didn't even think he'd care for your well being.
"gosh, this is so fucking embarrassing.." you muttered in between hiccups, trying to hide your face from his view; paying no mind to the fact that his dick was still inside of you.
"shh, shh. s'alright, darlin," he cups your cheeks with both hands, wiping away anymore stray tears free-falling from your eyes. now, this wasn't exactly an ideal situation atsumu would've imagined himself facing. he stays still inside you, having to hold back his need to fuck your insides to calm you down and fix.. whatever the hell your problem was.
"why don't ya tell me what's wrong? we can... ah, wait it out. no needa rush," he slips in between grunts. it wasn't helping that as you cried out onto him even with his cock still inside, you were still tight as fuck. the blonde sighs, adjusting his position for you to be more comfortable, taking mental note of how you’re theoretically cock warming right now.
"c'mon, (name). talk to me."
it took a while to calm down your sobs, but you eventually got a hold of yourself. it was.. beyond embarrassing, to cry on your fuck buddy's shoulder while he was basically cock warming. it didn't help how your cunt would occasionally clench around his dick whilst venting about the things your ex-friend said. it made you feel like absolute shit.
you poured your whole heart out for him to see. you would've never imagined doing this with someone like miya atsumu; the guy that took your first - and will probably be your last. despite knowing the fact that you shouldn't have fallen for him, you did.
"basically.. she made me feel like i'm the scum of the earth," you croaked out, holding onto his broad shoulders for dear life.
"i'm starting to see why.. i'm really sorry about this, atsumu - we should've just cancelled. but could you blame me? i wanted to.. try to forget about that for a while. with you." atsumu listened to every word as closely as he can. although it was something he might've considered dumb and cared less if it were anyone else, this was about you. he'd be willing to make an exception, even if his cock was still sheathed in your tightness.
"s'fine, don't worry 'bout it. if this is something that could help you... forget, i'm always willin' to do it with ya," he murmurs, thumb slowly rubbing your cheek as his loopy, brown eyes softened by your fragile state.
"i'm no good at comfortin'... so, if you'd let me..?" he awkwardly shifts, pushing you back a bit, still letting you keep your grip on his shoulders. sighing, he entangles a strand of [h.c] in between his fingers, bringing it up to his lips.
"so what about her? fuck her. cut ties with that bitch for all i care. she won't be botherin' ya anymore. not if i have anythin’ to do 'bout it," his tone went down an octave, nearly a spiteful growl leaving his lips.
"don't- don't worry about her, s-she already got what she wanted out of me," you stutter, fingers running through his hair in an attempt to calm him down. your mind was still trying to comprehend that his dick was twitching from inside of your cunt. you let out a breathless moan as you switch places.
atsumu’s toned body hovered over yours as he gently laid you down - his touch much more delicate than before. it was as if he was taking care of you; a complete contrast to those rough nights where he'd dick you down until you were in tears. your eyes locked onto each other, and for a while it was like time was non existent. as much as they didn't want to admit it, you both fell. and you fell hard. his hips started thrusting on a slower pace, following the beat of your own moans of pleasure.
"that's right, just focus on my cock," he whispers with tongue held taut in between his teeth, hand finding placement back on your hips.
he can't get it out of his sights - the way your pussy greedily sucks in his length in one go, bottoming out once again. atsumu lowers his head down, lips sucking and nipping on your clavicle as his hips snap against yours, carving the shape of his cock inside your tight and glorious hole. the primal feeling inside him stirs; plunging in and out of you as much as you could take. his thumbs find shelter on your nipples, rolling and squeezing the erect buds as his teeth marked your neck, the fast rhythm he's set on has his balls slapping against your ass - grunts and every curse from the book spewing from his lips from the jubilant fuck.
"fuckin' take it, baby. shit- you like that? bein' stuffed full. such a dirty girl," his thrusts turn irregular, practically drilling himself inside you; brows creasing from the brutal pace he's challenged himself under.
he was right when he said you favored being stuffed full by his cock. every snap of his hips meeting with yours sent your body jolts at the violent impact. ecstasy was all you felt - as if you hadn't cried your eyes out a minute ago. your nails clawed at his back from the amount of pleasure your tight cunt was blessed with. your legs could only spread wider, wanting to feel more of his fat cock. "a-ah-uh! 't-tsumu - fuck!"
you chant his name like a mantra, head being completely empty other than thoughts of the sensual fuck. the chemistry you two had was incomparable to any other. atsumu lets a loud grunt escape, fingernails digging in on your supple flesh. beads of sweat formed on his creased forehead, his left hand switched over to your ankle, stretching your legs even wider as he plunged himself even deeper in your hole - stroking your walls just right.
the male smirks at a particular whine that left your lips, signaling him that he was pleasantly hammering your sweet spot within moments of being sheathed inside. he captures your lips back in a feverish kiss - wet and sloppy as he let out lewd whispers of how fucking tight your pussy was around him, milking his cock like the good little girl you were. the hand on your hip lowers down back to your pulsing cunt, calloused fingers flicking your slit to increase the pressure on your fucked out state; enjoying how your expression varied from tearful to a full-on rapture.
"look at your cute lil' pussy, taking in my fat cock so well. s'too big for ya?" atsumu breathlessly chuckles, feeling his dick twitch.
your moans were incomparable to the porn stars that horny teenagers would be more than familiar with. who could blame you though? he was fucking you so damn good. if anyone had to ask you what was your favorite part, it's the way his full length invaded your tight walls - stroking the sensitive bundle of nerves.
you were filled with overwhelming pleasure, so much to the point that his back looked like a crime scene with red marks all over - a symbolism of how well he fucked you. "fuck - yesyes! h-harder 'tsumu - shit you're so good!" you moaned out, praising his ministrations on your needy pussy; too intoxicated to even care about your foul mouth.
you felt like his kisses were your only remedy. kissing your bruises, your scars and all of your worries and doubts. maybe it was the sex or maybe it was his existence in itself that made you fall.
the scratches and marks left on his back were ones he could proudly wear as battle scars. each cry and whimper from your lips only encouraged him to slam himself in you even more. he swallows every moan, every sigh as he plowed through you like a beast. atsumu’s teeth bite down on your bare neck, littering it with hickies as his thrusts got even sloppier from his impending release. "fuckkk, baby. i'ma cum soon- shit!" he lets out a shaky groan, hips stuttering from how your needy cunt squeezed his shaft so fucking tight.
you could feel the room spinning, moans and sighs of pleasure getting louder and louder in line with the squeaking of the bed, headboard banging against the wall from the amount of pressure atsumu has put in his thrusts.
"uh- 'tsumu - shit - i-i think i'm," you cut yourself off with a loud whimper as your hands quickly traveled to his scalp that was slightly dampened yet again with sweat. "i'm c-close!" he was pounding your sweet spot over and over again - your screams were high-pitched, lost in the euphoria of sex. but you would've never prepared yourself for the three words atsumu was about to say in the middle of your orgasm.
atsumu lost himself inside your tight walls, sloppy thrusts and loud pants echoing through the room. "fuck, i...i love you-!" his murmur of tenderness almost went by unnoticed as his dick spasmed, feeling it go numb as he cums hard and deep inside your dirty and abused little pussy.
"shitshitfuck! take it all, baby- fuckin' that dirty hole with my cum," he growls against your neck, biting down as he slammed back inside with every ribbon of cum spurting out of his dick. the blonde lets out another shaky groan, a hiss leaving his lips as he plops his weight on you, letting out a satisfied sigh; feeling your own essence mix with his cum.
upon the release of your juices, you let out a loud cry, volume matching up to his as he felt his dick spurt a load of cum inside. thank the heavens you were on the pill. but despite the intensity of that moment, you never let those words leave your mind. was this his confession? or was it just the atmosphere of the moment?
you glanced down at his weary expression, his body laying on top of yours. both of your hands reached for his cheeks, cupping it for them to come face to face. (e/c) irises meeting with his - both still dazed from the previous haze of lust. "was that true?.. you love me?"
at this point, what was there to lose? certainly not the dick that was still inside your cum-filled hole. you proceed to wipe the sweat off of his forehead gently.
the male lets a shaky breath escape his lips, feeling his lungs throb - or was it his chest? he hadn't meant for it to slip out, but he can't take it back now. not ever. "...fuck." he curses, wanting to pull away because he fucking knew it wasn't right. they had a deal. they weren't supposed to fall in love. yet, here he is - the miya atsumu, spilling out his profound love after an orgasm with his fuck buddy. what a time to be alive.
"..so what if i do?"
his voice was low and unsure, not having it in him to pull away. not when his dick was still clamped inside your creamy walls. atsumu looks right back at your hazy eyes, not wanting to back down from what he truly felt.
"gonna leave right after?" even as he tried to hide it, his tone had wavered. this was exactly why he didn't want to fall for anyone - especially his fuck buddy. still, he'd either go all in or not at all.
"dumbass, why would i ever leave you?"
your eyes softened at the crack in his tone. the hands that were cupping his face slowly eased to much more fond and tender type of warmth, holding his cheek like you were holding the world - your newly found world.
atsumu’s eyes stayed locked on yours; slightly widened, taken aback by your words. he never braced himself for what was about to come next. your connect your lips with his, seems as though there was more passion put into it. you pull away momentarily, thumbs grazing over his the skin beneath his eye.
"if it isn’t obvious enough, i love you too." you state with a small, shy smile.
"i mean, i thought you would've known by now.." mousy hues widened a fraction, heart thumping against his chest.
"well, fuck. we had an agreement, didn't we?" he captures your mouth in a lip lock again, grinning against your lips.
"ya got a real funny way of showin' it," he snickers as he pulls away, gazing down with a soft look, relishing in your touch. yes, he felt sticky, sweaty and overall gross, but he's not letting that ruin this moment of adoration for his newfound lover in bed.
"i fucking love you."
"wow, i fucking love you too."
you respond almost in a whisper, eyes never leaving the other. you both were too enamored by each other, failing to realize you were cock warming, yet again. sunset skies eventually transition to the night skies, and after another make-out session in the shower, atsumu insisted for you to stay the night. who’d say no to that? now, you both were laying in his bed; cuddling and talking about nonsense - besides the fact that you were now aware of each other's feelings. nothing was out of the ordinary.
"nice to know that i make you cum so hard that you confessed you love me too," you chuckle, the image of his fucked out-state confessing would never leave your memory.
the male rolls his eyes as a chortle escapes his lips. atsumu wraps an arm under your waist while the other tucked away hair in the way of your eyes. "darlin', if you only knew how pretty you looked cryin' on my dick i wouldn't have stopped ya," he sighs with content, leaving open-mouthed kisses over your clavicle; tracing up to your jaw.
"sure yer feelin' fine? ya were on the pill, right?"
"of course. wouldn't want another you running around," you replied, uttering another sigh of fulfillment, indulging the feel of his lips connecting onto your skin. you scoot closer to his side, an arm wrapped around his torso.
"at least not yet.." you trail off, quite hesitant of his answer. this was all new to you; getting in a relationship with your friends with benefits? it sounds too good to be true - like a really good plot for a movie type of good.
atsumu perks up at this, an excited grin threatening to form on his lips. "soo.. yer sayin' ya do want another me runnin' round here?" he kisses your cheek, hugging you close to his chest.
"mm, you takin' my last name doesn't sound too bad now, does it?" the thought of kids - hell, marriage itself wasn't a foreign thought in the pro player's mind. it was .. endearing, to say the least. he wasn't opposed to it. it would be nice, wouldn't it?
your cheeks were flushed red at his statement, the red and pink hues vivid even in the dimly lit room. "at least take me out on a proper date then i might consider,"
you teased, giggling at the evident pout on his face. "not gonna lie, miya (name) sounds nice.." you take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers together, imagining your fingers adorned with rings.
"say, what would we even tell our kids about how we met?" you question, head snapping towards atsumu’s direction as you heard a snort coming from him.
"oh yeah, it'd be a real kick knowin' their mum cried on daddy's cock durin' sex," he throws his head back as he howls, eyes crinkling from his own comment.
"don't sweat it, babe. i ain't plannin' on marriage til' the right time.. maybe," he gazes up at the ceiling, now calming down as a content sigh leaves his mouth.
your eyes were set on his face, adoring his features; taking in every single detail - his eyes, his smile, his lips, his jawline, his hair - everything. you never would've thought that you’d meet the love of your life in the form of a 'friends with benefits' situation. it definitely wasn't the ideal way of ever meeting your significant other, but that's the charm of blindly falling in love. they fell in love for the good things, despite starting off for the wrong reasons.
"i'm starting to get hungry. and no, i am not hungry for your dick." before he could even say anything, you cut him off, knowing him and his dirty jokes.
"i jest," he moves his arms, raising them in mock surrender. the blonde pulled away, sitting up as a hand flew up to cover the yawn that left his mouth.
"well. whaddya wanna eat? it'll be my treat." for now, he'd settle on easing himself on this. this relationship. dating you. it's certainly a sight to get used to - you, laid in his bed, clad in his shirts that were a few sizes too big on your body.
maybe in the near future, he'd have little (name)'s running around with his jersey's too.
GENERAL NSFW TAGLIST | @hakueishirei @pyblos @kxgeyamasmilk @kunimwuah @ideshine @janellion @kageyamasbabygorl @miyaosamoo @iinessa @levisackerwoman @yams046 @rainyslvt @lightningsistxr
#atsumu haikyuu#Miya Atsumu#atsumu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyuu smut#hq x you#hq x reader#atsumu smut#spicy hq
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Little Pistol - The Investigation
Chapter 14
First Previous Next
I'm really trying to continue this, I promise. I know the updates are rare and spaced, but I promise this isn't being abandoned. Please let me know of any changed usernames so I can update the taglist, assuming you still want to be tagged. Song by Sugarcult.
Highly recommend listening to the song, it's so fitting for the inner turmoil here.
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Jason's hesitance in the doorway was noticeable as Tim led the silent lady into the living room of their safehouse in the Coventry. This particular location chosen for its proximity not only to their base of operations, but the rooftop he'd originally pinned their guest to. Their guest truly was silent too, not only from lack of speaking, but the movement of her clothing, her steps, her shifting weight all completely muted into nothingness. Had he not felt her solid wrist within his grip, Tim could easily pass her off as a ghost. Even still, the life form trailing him felt haunting. A sense of foreboding laying like a thick blanket over the room.
Coming to a stop in front of an armchair, he pressed down on her shoulder, watching as she complied, body lowering into the chair while maintaining perfect eye contact. The whisper of what wanted to be a smile stayed on her lips as she settled, as though they were old friends meeting over afternoon tea. It put him on edge.
She shouldn't feel so comfortable with both of them closed in on her, anonymity on the verge of collapse as they scrutinized her every move.
Tim waved Jason off as the other reached for a set of ropes.
"Don't bother, she can escape them."
He seemed to mull the words over before narrowing them down to their based meaning, "You're saying she chose to be captured."
"Yes."
Their guest's eyes flashed in mild amusement before settling back into the blank void of almost smiling. It was creepy, like a porcelain doll come to life for a flicker of a second only to make you second guess if it ever happened at all the next.
"Why isn't she talking? She seemed to have plenty to say before," Jason squinted at her, keeping a reasonable distance, one hand hovering over his left holster.
Tim shook his head, "She responded to one question, then ignored the rest."
"Huh. So like a puzzle then."
"What." Tim deadpanned.
"No no, hear me out," Jason waved his hands about, seemingly catching the lady's attention as she followed the motion, "she answered one question, right?"
"Yes?" He folded his arms, waiting to see where Jay was going with this.
"So it's not that she won't respond to anything. Only to things she decides are worth answering. Whether that means things she sees as important or just too noteworthy to pass up, I'm not sure, but she seemed pretty quick to jump on Bat-wannabe and demon spawn's case, so I'm hedging towards the latter here."
A startled giggle makes both men snap their head towards the cause.
"Demon Spawn," she mumbles, earning a grin from Jason and an eye roll from Tim. Jason was just grateful he'd forgone the helmet tonight so she could see the positive reaction.
"Definitely the latter then," Tim sighed, reaching to rub his eyes, only to drop his hand back down at the reminder of the mask pressed to his fingers.
"Easy peasy then," Jason sat on a crate normally used as a makeshift table in the barren apartment, unbothered by the way it made his knees knock into the lady's.
"Sure. Easy."
"Yeah, all we gotta do is intrigue her enough to want to talk to us. And that can't be too difficult, otherwise she wouldn'ta bothered talking to begin with, isn't that right, sweetheart?" He leaned towards her with a friendly smile. One that wasn't returned.
"Yeah, seems to be working wonders," Tim mocked.
"Just give me a sec, I haven't even tried," he waved Tim off, focusing on the figure before him, "so, you seem pretty calm considering the circumstances. That got more to do with your confidence in your abilities to escape or more an interest in being captured?"
Silence.
"Were you hoping we'd use the ropes? I could bring them back if you're into that kind of thing."
More silence.
"What's got you tongue tied anyhow? See something you like?"
Dead silence only this one came with a delicately raised eyebrow and a glance in Tim's direction, as if to say, 'He always this cocksure?'
Jason lept on the action even still.
"Oh, he got your interest back there? I guess that makes sense since you talked to him first. That reminds me, how'd you react so fast when that lowlife got that lucky swipe in, anyhow? Unless you were already there?"
Her eyes slowly drifted back over to him at the lack of speech from the other, not reacting even to the callout.
"Feel free to dazzle us at any time," Tim called over.
Her lips twitched up.
"Oh, I see. Only willing to interact with little red then?"
A head tilt.
"What about demon spawn? Anything to say about him? Or what about big brother pretender?"
Her eyes snapped up to his, narrowed and... calculating?
"Think I struck a chord?" He turned towards Tim who only shrugged only to be wrenched back to focus as a tiny hand gripped his arm tightly, the previously complacent figure now tilted forward and staring him down with a hard look, flickering over his face as though the mask wasn't even there. Before he could even twist her arm away, she murmured out, "You're the second Robin, aren't you?"
Oh. Maybe calling Dick their big brother even jokingly was a mistake. Oh well, too late now, and what did it really matter if she knew? Not as though it connected back to his civilian form.
"Yeah. You figured that out pretty quickly."
"Faked your death? To get away?" She asked, voice gruff and heavily accented.
"Died and brought back. Weird magic shit. Almost lost a bit of me on the way back."
"Should you be telling her that?" Tim bit out.
"What's it matter if I do? What's she going to do with that? She's not even from this country. Besides, you want her to trust us enough to talk, might as well instill a little trust in return, ya know? Not like we're interrogating her, otherwise you woulda taken over by now," Jason eased Tim again, his own words sparking his own thoughts back into motion, "Which reminds me, you travel here the normal way? Cause it'll be pretty easy to look up young women who've traveled here from France."
"Weird magic shit," was the deadened response.
"Touché."
"Why's your voice so hoarse?" Tim asked, finally moving forward to rejoin the conversation fully, only to watch her rub her throat.
"Not much of a talker?" Tim continued, meeting her eyes, "how long since you held a full conversation with someone then? Days? Weeks? Months?" Her eyes flickered, "Months then? Why? Why not talk? Why talk to us now?"
Her entire figure seemed to droop, caving into itself and finally she responded to him directly, "I'm alone."
While Jason seemed confused, it's like she struck something deep within Tim. Something that understood. That wanted to reach out and contradict her just so they could both be wrong.
And right as he reached out to do just that, the seat beneath her opened up in a pool of black ink that dragged her under only to close back up, leaving his hand outstretched towards an empty chair.
"Fuck, now I'm even more confused," Jason groused, standing up and kicking away the crate as he went.
"Yeah…"
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Alt Ending, Part 5
Hot take but finals kinda suck
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Tag: @solangelo252
You’d think her body would be grateful that she was finally giving it food, but no. She put it in her mouth and instantly felt nauseous. It didn’t even want to go down her throat, and keeping it there felt basically impossible.
But Tim had looked so happy when she had tried, so she forced it down.
(Well, she forced some of it down. If he noticed that a good amount of the food she brought to her mouth actually disappeared into the sleeves and folds of her dress he didn’t say anything.)
Tim started coming by three times a day with food after that. She didn’t complain despite her discomfort, she had really missed him.
Also, he looked stressed out and/or exhausted whenever she saw him. She worried about him. They both had a tendency to overwork themselves when they hit blocks, hell she’d sometimes joined him in his week-long deep dives into cases, but now that she was an outsider looking in… she was kind of shocked she’d ever let it get that far for either of them. When was the last time he’d slept through the night? Taken proper time to clean himself, even? A while, she guessed from the deep bags under his eyes and the way his hair was frayed from running his fingers through it.
“Timmy,” she chirped.
He flashed her a tiny smile. “Hey,” he said, coming over and taking a seat beside her on the bed.
She took the bag from him and set it aside, much to his dismay, but then she reached over and dragged him into some cuddles and he suddenly had new concerns. He groaned into her shoulder.
“Bean, come on, I don’t want to sleep.”
She didn’t let go. “You need to.”
“Don’t have time.”
She rolled her eyes, bringing a hand up to start attempting to smooth out his hair. “You have to sleep eventually.”
“And I do!”
She didn’t answer, which he took to mean she didn’t believe him (a good assumption, she didn’t).
“I do! I get at least a few hours a week.”
“Wow, amazing. I take it back. You totally have a healthy sleep schedule.”
“Worry about yourself, first. You don’t sleep either,” he huffed, but he was starting to relax into her hold nonetheless.
“I’m also literally dead.”
“You used to say you’d sleep when you were dead.”
Marinette scoffed. “Well, to be fair, I thought I’d actually die when I died.”
He gave a short laugh, and she opted not to acknowledge that it was a little forced.
She yawned and laid back with his face in her shoulder. “I’m surprised none of the others have drugged you to get you to sleep yet.”
“They’re too busy drugging B --.” He winced just slightly. “They’ve just got a lot on their plates is all, I’m the least of their worries.”
She didn’t say anything about his tiny slip up, just gave a light hum to say she understood.
She didn’t dare to move until she was completely sure he had nodded off. Even then, she only did so to pick up the food he’d brought for her.
Her nose scrunched a little at the prospect of eating, but when she opened it and saw it was fried rice she perked up a little. She nibbled at her food.
Honestly, she didn’t know if it was working. It seemed to be, but then again most of the things that got better could be attributed to other causes. Her skin was gaining color again, but the bleach may have just started to wear out. She was feeling more energized, but then again she was now getting a total of four cups of coffee a day thanks to Tim and Jason fueling her addiction. Exercise was getting easier and she was packing on muscle again, but she was also working out enough with Dick for it to be explainable that way…
She didn’t know if it was working. She didn’t even know if she WANTED it to work. The plan had been ‘kill Bruce and then quickly off yourself before the others can react’ and not having an instant out was kinda problematic when it came to finishing that plan.
Not that the first part of that plan was working out for her, either. Bruce still hadn’t come to see her. She doubted he ever would at this point.
She didn’t even have a way out, as the door was automated and presumably opened by someone outside.
No. The only way she would ever leave was if she managed to ‘fix’ herself, and that wasn’t happening because there was nothing to fix! She would know. Her entire thing as Ladybug was fixing things.
She looked down at Tim. When he slept all the little wrinkles in his forehead smoothed to make him look much younger. She smiled a little at the sight, pressing a kiss to where she knew the creases usually were.
At least, even if her situation couldn’t be helped, she could still help others.
~
She’d come to expect a routine of sorts, so the moment it was broken even slightly her brain short-circuited.
Duke stood in the doorway as usual, but when she glanced past him…
“Where’s Cass?”
His grin disappeared a little, but he pulled his back to his face with ease. “Wow, I’m really feeling the love here, Mari.”
She rolled her eyes. “Please, we both know Cass is the best person to ever exist.”
Duke nodded his agreement and came over to take a seat next to her. She cozied up to him as usual, curled under his arm as he pulled up their newest show on his laptop…
She had a lot of thoughts about Cass being missing.
On the one hand, she just missed her friend’s too-warm body pressed up against her and quiet complaints about how the actors were doing it all wrong.
On the other hand… Marinette was completely aware that they had Cass stopping by as much as she did to check on Marinette, to see if they were making any real progress with her. Cass was a human lie detector, able to detect when someone was going to be dishonest before they’d even realized it themselves, and they’d be stupid not to take advantage that. So, the fact that they were no longer making Cass drop in as often… either they thought she was doing better, or that she never would do better.
Marinette hoped it was the first. She knew it was the second.
She found it harder than usual to enjoy Duke’s snide comments about how dumb and cliche some of the characters were. She turned and pressed her face into his side. The glasses on the bridge of her nose dug into her skin.
Fuck. She was never getting out of there, was she?
She felt his free hand come up to run through her hair and she sighed.
“Duke…”
He pressed pause on the show.
“Tim told me you’re a meta, that you can control light. Can you do it for me?”
There was a beat.
“Why do you ask?”
She laughed a little. “Does it matter? Can’t I just be curious about why my favorite brother didn’t even bother to tell me that he has powers?”
“I thought you already knew. It’s common knowledge.”
She huffed. “Maybe I just prefer to be told things than meticulously look through every piece of information to figure it out.”
“What kind of bat are you?” He joked.
She winced and the hand in his shirt balled it just a fraction tighter. She didn’t respond.
There was a few seconds before he sighed and moved his hand from his hair to her chin, gently pulling her face out of where it was hidden in his side. She refused to meet his eyes.
It was silent again, neither of them sure what to say.
“Here,” he said after a moment, putting his free hand out and making light dance across his palm.
Her face lit up, literally and figuratively, at the sight of the tiny ball of light. She leaned a little closer.
“Aw, it looks like a tiny sun!”
He laughed a little. “Yeah. I can also…”
There was a moment of silence as he concentrated and the tiny ball of light split into the colors of the rainbow. She giggled, reaching out to cup his hand in hers. It was the first non-artificial light she’d seen in months, the first rainbow she’d seen since… Paris, actually.
Well, even if she wouldn’t ever see the outside world again, at least she could still have this little fake sun. It was basically the same, just as good, she told herself. She ignored the tears rolling down her cheeks that were telling her otherwise.
~
She tossed the plastic spoon she’d stolen from one of her meals in the air idly.
The plan had been to turn it into Baby’s First Shank but that probably wasn’t going to work out. Pen to the throat was at about a .01% chance of working, attacking him with a spoon-knife needed a few more zeroes added to that already insanely small number. She gave it a .000000001% chance at best.
Then again, the other option was trying to strangle someone who had an insane height and weight advantage to death before someone else could interfere...
She sighed to herself and put the spoon in her teeth, starting to pull.
She didn’t get very far before she heard the metallic whoosh of the door opening and she barely glanced up to see Dick.
He stared at her from the doorway, his eyebrows slowly raising as he watched her attempt to bite an edge into a spoon of all things.
She pulled it from her mouth with a ‘pop’.
“I think your eyebrows are trying to escape,” she told him.
He blinked at her before rolling his eyes and walking inside fully. “Thanks for the assist. Would have lost them otherwise,” he said sarcastically.
“I’ve seen you lose your phone three minutes after putting it down, Dickie, I wouldn’t put it past you.”
He gasped and rested a hand over her heart. “You think that low of me?”
“Lower. I was being nice.”
Dick pouted and walked over to the bed. She didn’t think much of it until he was diving onto her stomach. She put her hands out in an attempt to soften the blow, but it wasn’t enough to save her. She groaned in pain as his extremely hard head made contact with her not-so-hard stomach.
“FUCK. This is why your parents called you Dick, y’know!”
He only laughed at her.
Despite herself, she gave him a smile.
She rested her head back in the pillows for a moment (mostly just to catch all the breath she’d lost) before pushing him off. “Ready?”
He groaned into her comforter before rolling onto the floor. “‘Kay.”
Marinette grinned as she took a seat beside him, starting her usual stretches. He pushed himself up to sit with minimal groaning and started working on his shoulders.
It was quiet for a while as they stretched.
Marinette bit the inside of her cheek and kept her eyes on her foot when she spoke next: “Dick?”
She could feel his gaze on her.
“I… can I have some more stuff? Everything here is so boring. I just… I want new things to do. Or, at least, new things to look at.”
There was a long silence between them. Anxiety bubbled under her skin. She switched legs so she could gauge his expression through her bangs. His expression was carefully neutral.
She cringed.
“Obviously I’m not ungrateful! You guys have all been really nice and accommodating! I get food and a phone and, honestly, that’s fine --!”
“Mari!”
Her mouth snapped closed.
“It’s fine. You don’t have to apologize. Anyone would be bored here. I can talk to them. It’ll probably depend on what you want.”
She finally looked at him properly, eyes wide. She really hadn’t been expecting that to work.
He slowly pulled his legs to him to sit criss-cross applesauce, head resting on his hand. “I can probably get some baking things, a sketchbook, just blunt objects in general. Deadly, but not before someone could get there.”
Marinette nodded her understanding, a smile making its way across her face.
“You’re the best.”
“You constantly say Duke and Cass are the best.”
She was torn between agreeing with herself and flattering him. Since she wanted something, she decided on flattery: “That was, like, a few hours ago. I’ve grown since then. You’re my favorite now, Dickie.”
“Can I get that as my ringtone?”
“Only if you only use it to mess with Jay.”
“Deal.”
They shook on it.
~
The door whoosed open and she barely moved her head to look at it.
She froze.
Bruce?
No. No way. There was no way in hell.
But was there? Cass HAD stopped coming. Maybe she had somehow convinced them that everything was working out and everything was fine.
Marinette hadn’t done anything differently, though, so that probably wasn’t it…
Oh. Oh shit.
Maybe she was actually going insane. Because there was no way the bats would have made that kind of mistake by letting Bruce in when she was still intent on murdering him. He had to be a hallucination, because nothing else really made sense. Kwami, Tim was going to be SO smug about this one.
Actually, no, he didn’t have to know.
Her gaze slipped away from Fake Bruce and back to the dots on her ceiling. Because, as everyone knows, that if you don’t acknowledge hallucinations they go away…
“Marinette,” Fake Bruce said, trying to trick her into outing herself as losing it.
“Marinette,” he tried again, starting his way over.
She did her best to ignore the footsteps and the way the bed shifted when he sat down. No wonder schizophrenics fell for this shit, this was all so real…
Except... weren’t schizophrenics not supposed to be able to tell what was real and what wasn’t? Wouldn’t her knowing (thinking?) he was fake be an indication that he was actually real? Or was that just her mind trying to justify believing it?
Marinette bit inside of her cheek and let herself look at Fake Bruce again.
He cracked a smile for her. A hand reached over and pushed some hair away from her face. “Hey,” he said.
She hesitated.
It would suck if this all was fake, the others would get confirmation and she really wouldn’t have a way out. But if it was real then this was her only shot. If it was real Cass would be watching the cameras to see what she was thinking and she would know for sure that Marinette was still intent on killing Bruce…
Fuck.
Marinette pushed herself into a sitting position and looked Maybe-Bruce up and down before grabbing him by the front of his suit and pulling him into a hug. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes when he hugged her back.
“Fake.”
The man tensed underneath her and then sighed as he pulled back.
He gave her an awkward smile. “I’m sorry, Marinette.”
She shook her head slightly and fell back. With a flick of her wrists the knife she’d created out of her plastic spoon was in her hands and she absently tossed it at the hallucination. Either it would make him disappear or it would look like it stabbed him and she could pretend that it actually happened.
But then it didn’t do either of those things.
Her eyebrows knit together when the spife shattered upon impact.
He looked unconcerned as he gently swept all the pieces into his hand and then put them in his pockets.
“The fuck?”
“Language,” he chided lightly.
She grinned. “You really need to work on your ‘Bruce’. Accepting a hug that quickly is one thing but chiding someone for language? In OUR family? I’m pretty sure he gave that up by Jason.”
The man chuckled and shook his head. “I’m Superman.”
“Oh.” She blinked a few times before shrugging to herself. “Okay. You look just like Bruce. It’s kinda creepy.”
“Yeah, trust me, we know. It’s pretty helpful, though. One time a person tried to assassinate Bruce and ended up fighting me. It wasn’t their day.”
She smiled a little, but it didn’t last very long. She fell back in her pillows and glared at the ceiling. “This sucks.”
“I’m sorry this all happened to you. You’re just a kid.”
She rolled her eyes. She’d long-since given up on denying that something had happened to her. Not because she no longer believed it, but because it wasn’t worth the effort. No one ever believed her when she said it.
(Could she blame them? No. She almost believed it herself just a few moments before. Still annoying, though.)
Instead of saying any of that, though, she brought a grin to her face.
“You and B should switch houses for April Fools. See if anyone notices anything.”
~
She really should have noticed something was up when her coffee didn’t energize her at all.
It had all been going fine. She was making Jason dispose of all the pieces of food she’d used sleight of hand to get away with not eating (she was still a little bitter about him stealing her pen and this was the most she could really do to get back at him, compromised as she was). They made idle conversation, mostly just about how Damian had got himself a new pet cat that he had named BatCat (though, apparently, they had heard him slip up and call him Charles a few times). They debated over how good that name was and the merit of Jason’s suggestion -- BatPussy, of course -- as she drank her third cup of coffee of the day.
It was about halfway through her drink that she began to notice that something was off. She squinted at Jason suspiciously.
“Decaf?” She asked, her voice worryingly sweet.
He raised his eyebrows and tried to look unimpressed despite stepping back a good half-step. “Please, if it was decaf classical conditioning still would’ve made it work at least a little.”
She opened her mouth to retort, then realized he was right. Or, at least, she was pretty sure. She couldn't seem to think of anything against it.
She frowned, looking down at her drink again and swirling the contents around. She drank the rest of it, trying to figure out why exactly it wasn’t working.
Was she already at the point where caffeine had little effect on her again? She didn’t think she was that bad yet… hell, she probably couldn’t be because she was depending on others to give her her fix…
She shook her head slightly and then quickly realized that was a bad idea. Pain stabbed through her skull and she stumbled into Jason. The plastic thermos slipped from her fingertips and went rolling across the floor. Her head crashed into his chest and arms were quick to wrap around her.
“You got shitty coffee, try a different place next time,” she murmured, closing her eyes.
He laughed a little. “Yeah, okay, kid. I’ll be sure to do that.”
She nodded as much as her headache would allow and felt the arms around her slip down to pick her up. She blinked her eyes open blearily and regretted it when the light attempted to murder her via knife to the head.
Heh. Little light particles with little knives.
Wait.
Did she get a concussion? Somehow? Without getting hit?
She buried her face in his shoulder and it was then, as he set her in bed and tucked her in, that she realized what had happened.
“Bitch,” she murmured above whatever drug they had put in her drink.
He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and she could do little more than scrunch up her nose and vaguely wave him off. Her eyes fell closed again.
~
Marinette woke up a while later.
The first thing she noticed was that the lights were dimmer, something she didn’t have to open her eyes to see because her head wasn’t pounding as much.
Then she realized a person was with her. They had entwined themselves around her, tangled their limbs with hers. They needn’t have bothered, everything felt like lead. She wouldn’t be moving for quite some time.
… why was she being held down? Oh no. That was probably bad, huh?
Marinette made a sound in the back of her throat and started trying to shift away from the person pressed against her back. She needed to see who they were. They didn’t bother to tighten their hold on her, she wasn’t really getting anywhere.
In fact, a hand stopped holding her down. Instead, it came up to pet her hair.
Oh? This was nice.
A voice by her head told her it was all okay. After a moment she realized she recognized that voice. She smiled sleepily. Cass. She liked Cass. She pressed closer to her and was rewarded with a hand rubbing up and down one of her arms.
She nearly fell asleep again. Cass was safe, Marinette was safe… the warmth against her and the soothing touch… of course, it certainly helped that the drug was still in her system and she was exhausted...
But then her mind wandered back to her first question. Why WAS Cass holding her down? Why did they drug her in the first place?
She moved so her hair could block some of the light and then cautiously cracked her eyes open.
The batboys were all moving things inside almost silently. Jason was carrying an entire fridge on his own. Dick and Damian were arguing over the positioning of the table they had just brought in through angry hand motions. Tim and Duke were working together on… was that a gaming set?
And she was being held down because the door was wide open.
Marinette looked at the doorway for just a moment longer. She allowed herself to imagine getting out and swinging through the city with her lasso, allowed herself to pretend she could lay in the grass, allowed herself to believe that she could see the sun and the stars and just breathe fresh air again…
And then she closed her eyes and sunk into Cass’s grip.
What was the point in trying? Even if she could somehow beat out all six of the people in the room with her and get past whatever security Bruce had to have outside of the room all while drugged… then what? No money or idea where she was… and she’d be running from the bats of all people…
Yeah. Useless. She curled up and allowed sleep to take her again.
~
Quite a while later she woke up and blinked a few times when she realized she wasn’t the only person in bed. At first she thought it was just Cass or Tim, they were the most likely culprits, but then she realized everyone had managed to cram themselves onto the bed with her. Her and Cass had gotten brushed to the side of the bed to make space for Tim, Dick, and Damian. Jason had collapsed across the end of the bed -- presumably for space, but Duke was laying half on top of him so that obviously hadn’t worked out.
Marinette smiled faintly and buried her face back into the crook of Tim’s neck.
~
When she woke up again, most of the drug flushed from her system (somehow…?), she thought she was alone.
This was fine. She was able to stretch out and sit up.
She blinked when she saw Damian, who was sitting on her floor and playing a video game.
Huh? Video game?
She looked around her room confusedly. The bats had basically made her a one-room apartment, complete with kitchenette and a tiny study area. Of course, it was much higher quality than the apartment she’d had, with a high tech gaming system and a little dining area and holy shit that was a MINI LIBRARY?
Wild.
“You’re finally up.”
She hummed lightly as an agreement. She crawled over to the end of the bed and smiled when he handed her a twizzler. It was objectively one of the worst candies, but she liked having something to do. She twirled it in her hand idly.
“Do you think… do you think it’s working?”
She frowned confusedly and dropped off the bed to sit beside him on the second beanbag chair. She chanced a quick glance in his direction to gauge how he was feeling... his expression didn’t let anything on other than that he was thinking hard, though she was pretty sure that was about the game.
“Gonna elaborate on that?”
He clicked his tongue. “Are you going to join the Undead Robins Club?”
She grinned at him. “I wasn’t a Robin.”
“You know what I mean.”
Her smile disappeared a little and she trained her eyes on the game. “I don’t know.”
“You know we never will know for sure, right?”
She blinked. She hadn’t expected anyone to acknowledge it. They were the bats, they were never going to chance taking off her glasses because if they were wrong and she WASN’T better… well, it wasn’t the kind of mistake they could easily come back from.
“Yeah, I know,” she said after a few moments.
“Do you care?”
“Doesn't really matter if I do. It won’t change anything.”
He frowned. “That’s not answering my question.”
She bit her cheek. “I… yes. I care. It still doesn’t matter.”
He looked like he was going to argue, but instead he just went back to playing the game.
“Damiiiiiiiii…” she whined and, when he gave a vague grunt to show he was paying attention, she continued with “... shouldn’t I get to play first? It’s mine.”
“You slept in too long,” he said without looking up.
She huffed. “Only ‘cause I was drugged!”
“Unfortunate.”
She got off the beanbag chair and whacked him over the head with it. He barely acknowledged it outside of an annoyed click of his tongue.
She huffed and pulled the chair back to herself to sit again. “Is it two player?”
“Nope.”
“You’re a bitch.”
He clicked his tongue again.
She pouted for a little while longer before looking back at the screen with a smile. “... heard you got a cat named Charles. Wanna talk about him?”
Damian’s face lit up. “Can I?”
“Only if you let me play.”
He looked pained. If he gave it to her then he’d be giving her something she’d want, which was a sibling no-no, but if he didn’t then she probably wouldn’t listen to him gush about his cat. A few moments went by before he reluctantly handed over the controller.
She beamed and scooted her chair over to rest her head on his shoulder. She could feel him stiffen underneath her but, when she didn’t move again outside of what was necessary to play the game, he relaxed again.
“I thought you were going to listen,” he chided lightly when she didn’t take a break between levels.
“I can listen and play.”
Damian sighed a little and shook his head.
“You don’t have to talk about him if you don’t want --.”
“I’m getting to it! So, he’s a black cat that apparently hadn’t been adopted because everyone thought he was evil so the pet store was going --.”
~
Marinette noticed something was up the minute the door opened.
First of all, it was Duke and Damian. That’s all that really needs to be said. Those two together… it’s never a good thing.
Secondly, they were there as Signal and Robin. Most of the time the others avoided even talking about their lives as vigilantes for fear of setting her off in one way or another, but here they were showing up in their suits? No, something weird was going on.
“Hey, Mari, can we skip a fight and you just put a bag over your head and let us pick you up?” Tried Duke.
Her eyebrows furrowed. “You want to…? Huh?”
“We don’t really have much time to explain. I’ll tell you on the way.”
Damian held up a potato sack and some twine, which really wasn’t all that encouraging.
She hesitated. “... what’s something only you two would know?”
“Really?” Said Damian with more than a little exasperation.
“Hey, we’re all bats here. I’m not moving until you prove you’re who you say you are.”
(Technically, if they were really Duke and Damian, they could fight her and do it anyways. She probably couldn't beat both of them at once. Still, that kind of fight would hurt all of them and she really didn’t want to have to do it at the moment.)
Duke hesitated before shrugging. “Your favorite ice cream flavor is mint. Which I don’t understand. Just brush your teeth if you like that taste so much.”
Marinette rolled her eyes. “Alright, you’re who you say you are. Robin?”
“… early on I lied and said that Nightwing’s real hero name was actually BatNightwing to mess with you both.”
She frowned. “I forgot about that. You’re a dick.”
“No, Nightwing’s a Dick. He’s a Damian.”
Marinette was THIS CLOSE to fighting them anyways.
But she didn’t. She was kinda curious about where all this was going. So, she allowed them to bind her hands and slip a bag over her head. Arms wrapped around her -- she didn’t really care who it was -- and she was lifted off the ground. Then, they were walking.
Part of her wondered if this was some kind of test. They were checking to see how compliant she was or how likely she would be to run once outside. Maybe they had Superman on call in case she tried to escape.
She really couldn’t tell.
She didn’t think that they had any reason to take her out of the perfectly safe and well-stocked place they had put her in.
Maybe her location had been compromised and they were moving her to a backup? No, that didn’t make sense. Duke made sense for transport, Damian didn’t. Damian was one of the worst fighters in the family (he was in no way BAD at fighting, of course, it was just a byproduct of being in the game the shortest amount of time and not being a meta) and he was the second most likely person to end up fighting her after Jason. What the fuck?
Wait, Duke said he’d explain on the way.
“What’s going on?”
“New idea on how to bring you back,” said Duke simply.
Well, she guessed that was more information than she’d previously had. She’d take it for now.
She heard a quiet whooshing noise and frowned confusedly, only to feel herself get set down… somewhere. She felt carpeting underneath her, which meant she was in… a house? No. A car, she thought as she noticed the quiet hum of an engine. She’d been put in the fucking trunk. She kicked out as much as she could without knowing exactly where they were and gave a cry of protest, but then the lid was clicked over her head and she was thrown into uncomfortably complete silence.
She scowled to herself. She shouldn’t have thrown her spife at Superman, it would have been really useful right then. She tested the bindings against her hands and winced at how tight they were. Did they really use zip ties? Those were notoriously bad for circulation.
… oh. Yeah. She was dead. That actually wasn’t that bad, then.
Still annoying. Hard to get out of. Assholes. She wondered if it was worth dislocating her arms…
Yeah. Probably. If she could get out then she would be OUT.
She flipped herself onto her stomach. She pulled her feet up to her arms and then started pushing back. Her body strained in protest and she bit down on the front of the bag over her head to stop herself from making any sounds.
And then she felt a pop in her left shoulder and a flare of pain and the makeshift gag wasn’t enough to hold back her sobs. Her arm throbbed and it was only made worse when they reached the city proper and the roads started getting choppy. Every little bump in the road sent a new wave of pain rolling through her and all she could do was ride it out.
They started hitting smoother roads what felt like hours later... it was kind of concerning because she had no clue where they could be, those were uncommon in Gotham, but at least she no longer felt like she was going to die every few seconds.
She took a few seconds to bring her breathing back to normal before she started slowly wiggling her arms out under her butt and legs and then they were in front of her. Great. She picked herself up as much as she could in the tiny space, checked her angle mentally, relaxed her muscles, and then dropped down on her shoulder to get it back in place.
She breathed out a sigh of relief. It felt weird and still kind of hurt but at least it was mostly better.
She pulled the bag off of her head and relished in the slightly fresher air.
She looked down at the zip ties on her wrists and she sighed a little. Time to do that hack that looked stupid but actually worked if the kidnappers were stupid enough to leave you alone.
She brought her feet up, untied the laces of her shoes, and tied them back around the ties. Then she set to work trying to saw at the zip tie.
She paused when she heard the low rumbling of a plane. Were they near an airport? Oh. That was going to be a problem. She went faster.
Unfortunately, Marinette didn’t get very far before there was a click and the trunk opened.
She cried out in pain at the sudden light and squeezed her eyes shut, turning to press her face into the carpeted interior.
Hands grabbed her and pulled her out of the trunk. Before she could do much to look around so she could get her bearings and make herself a portal, the bag was forced over her head again and a strong grip on her arm (the good one, thankfully) kept her from pulling it off again. Then someone knelt in front of her and fixed her shoelaces.
“Really, NightMare?” Duke said, unimpressed.
“In my defense, I was left unsupervised.”
Damian scoffed.
Someone picked her up again and she sighed as they carried her along. They were definitely at an airport. She could hear people milling about. She was sure it was Gotham, too; she could feel a few stares, but most people seemed comfortable with the vigilantes among them.
Then came the normal airport stuff. Walking. Some arguing over whether she counted as luggage or if she could go through the metal detector with them. Sitting. A little chatting with civilians. More walking. More sitting. Very light chatter, just formalities and asking for drinks (Duke, who she figured out was the person carrying her, slipped a box of orange juice up her bag so she could have something). And then they were in the air.
After some time in the air the bag and zip ties were removed. She kept her eyes closed to let them adjust to light naturally and instead focused on rubbing feeling back into her hands.
One English alphabet later, she opened her eyes.
They were in a private plane (or was it a jet?), which explained why it was as quiet as it was. Damian was drinking a glass of water and reading something on his phone. Duke was nibbling at some complimentary pretzels and working a Rubix Cube. They both glanced in her direction from time to time, but they seemed pretty confident that she couldn’t do anything while they were in the air (which was true, but annoying).
She looked around a little more and found that there were no other bats.
“Um… where’re…?” She trailed off, unsure.
They stopped glancing in her direction, ignoring her and her question. The frown that had been on her face since pretty much when they’d first taken her from the room deepened.
“Do they… do they know what’s going on?”
The silence spoke volumes.
She rested her head in her hand. “I’m going to need something stronger than a juice box for this.”
Duke sighed but called a friendly looking woman inside to get her some wine. Marinette and Duke sipped at a glass each (Damian wasn’t allowed any, something Marinette took a little too much joy in). She scrutinized the two over the rim of her glass.
“Are you going to explain or let me guess? Because letting me guess is going to end up with me assuming you’re doing something way worse than you actually are.”
Damian sighed a little. “It’s hard to explain.”
“We’re in a plane. I’m going to guess we have time. Start talking.”
“We drugged them all -- except Orphan, she’s just out doing patrols and won’t know what’s going on for a good few hours -- and grabbed you.”
Duke gave Damian a pleading look to make him continue for them.
Damian, reluctantly, put down his phone to talk. “Signal and I have an idea on how to bring you back from the dead. The others won’t like it, especially not Red Hood, so we’re making the executive decision to not ask.”
Marinette didn’t know a lot about when Jason had been resurrected, it was a sensitive subject so it was avoided pretty much at all costs. All she’d gathered was that it was a rather messy experience for everyone involved.
She rested her head on her hand and then looked back down at her drink. She snatched the bottle from the table and, when Duke protested, set him a glare and started drinking directly from it. They were actually going to bring her back through probably shady means. She was NOT drunk enough for this shit.
~
She got stuffed in a suitcase when they left, which was extremely insulting (and a little embarrassing, if she were honest).
She rested her head against the side of the suitcase and listened to the dull thrum of people talking on the other side. She vaguely recognized the language, both Nino and Damian both spoke it when frustrated, but the words were all Greek to her.
Well, they were all Arabic, but you get the point.
~
She didn’t even realize she had been asleep until she was awoken. Rather abruptly. The zipper for the suitcase was opened and she tumbled out. Marinette cursed in French as she hit the ground and laid there, her entire body aching from not moving for so long. She hadn’t known her face could get pins and needles, she wished she could go back to her blissful ignorance.
“Are you sure about this? You want to save her?” A woman’s voice said above her, sounding a little skeptical.
Marinette forced herself to roll over so she could glare at whoever it was, she knew when she was being insulted, and then she blinked up at the new person.
A tall woman with dark skin and hair and a body to die for stood above her, hands on her hips.
“Holy shit, Dami. You got terrible genes. She’s gorgeous and you’re… you? What?”
Duke hid laughter behind his hand and Damian scoffed.
Amusement flickered behind Talia’s ‘I could kill you before you could even scream’ expression. “I’ve changed my mind. I like her.”
“Cool,” said Marinette as she quickly pushed herself to her feet. Her body wasn’t ready for that, but that was the least of her concerns. The pretty lady was ushering her along and Marinette wasn’t going to hold her up if she could help it.
“How did you die?” Talia said, which was an interesting choice for conversation.
Marinette shrugged, though, unconcerned. “I don’t know, really, there wasn’t this ‘oh, wow, I’m dead’ moment. My guess is I either drowned in acid or died of dehydration at some point. Does it change anything or…?”
“No. Just curious.”
“Oh. Good.”
“... do you not know why you’re here?” Asked Talia carefully after a moment’s contemplation.
Marinette shook her head. “Nah, they’ve been avoiding telling me. I assume it’s painful.”
“... yes. Very.”
The four lapsed into silence after that.
Marinette felt weirdly on edge as they walked through the facility, her hands rubbing the goosebumps that were prickling along her arms. The further they walked, the more on edge she felt. They were approaching something unnatural, something so undeniably WRONG, and she needed to GO.
But Damian and Duke were behind her, probably sensing her unease, and running ahead would only get her there faster… so she walked.
She bit the inside of her cheek in an attempt to ground herself.
But, the moment they stepped into the room, she froze.
Green water. That apparently hurts.
Acid.
“FUCK.”
Duke was ready for her to run, apparently, stood in front of the only exit and ready for a fight before she could even get a full step away from the hell that awaited her.
“No no no no no no wait it’s fine I actually don’t mind being dead it’s fine guys please --.”
Damian grabbed her arms and she choked out a sob,
“Damian god damn it I was kidding about the mom thing you’re perfectly attractive or whatever I promise I really didn’t think it would hurt you that much we don’t need to do this let’s tALK IT OUT --!”
“It’s not about that --!”
Duke managed to get a hold on one of her legs and lifted and all she had to struggle against either of them was a foot and she was SO fucked --.
“PLEASE DUKE PLEASE I DON’T KNOW WHAT I DID BUT I PROMISE I CAN BE BETTER YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THIS PLEASE PLEASE LET ME GO I’LL BE FINE WE CAN FIGURE SOMETHING OUT PLEASE --.”
Talia grabbed her last leg and she sobbed as she thrashed around uselessly. They started dragging her towards the acid. Nothing to do no way to run no help in sight no --.
“PLEASE! I PROMISE I’LL BE BETTER PLEASE JUST LET ME GO!”
And they did. They let her go and she fell into the acid.
#did i forget what the name of this was at some point#maybe#its whatever#alternate ending#alternative ending#marinette dupain cheng#ladybug#harley quinzel#harley quinn#joker#maribat
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