#she might as well just said i love you tim
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AITA for wanting to spend a night out with a guy?
I'm twenty, study in university and still live with my parents. I've been planning to move out since I was eighteen, but they told me to keep living at home and not get a job so I could focus on studying while they take care of me financially. This arrangement has worked mostly well in the past years save for a few small conflicts, but it's escalated in the past 3-4 months.
The issue is my time schedule. I have a very active social life, am active in the local art scene, do political work and a lot of extracurricular stuff for university (I'm a straight A student, I might add!). Because of this, and because I'm a natural night owl, I usually come home late several days a week (between 10pm and 2am) and stay out all day for most of the week. This means I can't do a lot of chores, and usually there's a lot of housework because my mum has a bit of a cleaning anxiety and wants to make sure everything is spotless 24/7.
Enter this guy, I'll call him Tim. I met him at a festival last summer and we became long distance friends. Tim has visited me for a day several times before, but this weekend he offered to come over for two days and we agreed to spend the night stargazing together without sleeping. I loved the idea and immediately said yes. It was gonna be just us, a couple energy drinks, and some bench in the city center, and I was really looking forward to it.
The thing is, my mum does not like Tim. Like, at all. She thinks he seems very sleazy and generally distrusts him because he feels "too nice" for her. Mind you, he's just a somewhat shady looking guy who is generally pretty anxious he might make a bad impression, so he overperforms the whole "respectable member of society" act a bit around new people. I've introduced him to my friend group and even the more sceptical people absolutely love him and think he's a very sweet, helpful person. In basically every stressful situation I've ever seen him in he's been deescalating, protective and helpful, and he has on several occasions been my first source of comfort when things went to hell.
Today I told my mum in an offhanded comment that I won't come home between Sunday and Monday and the situation escalated completely. She was crying, accusing me of ruining her month, saying I didn't care about this family, it got ugly. The main point she had was that I was staying out all night with someone who's a total stranger to her and she doesn't trust him at all. In the end we compromised that Tim and I would spend the night awake, but not in the city, at home.
I feel really humiliated by this whole situation and honestly, kind of betrayed, because I was promised stuff like this wouldn't happen, and it just hits in a much safer situation than ones I've been in before (I used to get blackout drunk and sleep at parties a lot.). I'm a legal adult, have been for years now and it's so disappointing that my parents still treat me like a child sometimes and are so judgy towards my friends too. At the same time, I'm wondering whether I've acted wrong too by not telling her about this earlier and not taking her concerns that seriously. I forget sometimes that I talk to Tim every day for hours, but my parents only briefly ran into him once, so of course their view of him is skewed.
PS: I should add that when I told him about this, he immediately apologized, asked if I needed anything or wanted to change the plan and decided to dig out the least offensive outfit he could find so he'd make a good impression on my parents. So he's definitely trying his best.
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#the most important relationship in her life#excuse me while i scream#spiraling honestly#i love them your honor#faves#she might as well just said i love you tim#jeez#chenford#chenfordedit#tim x lucy#tim bradford#lucy chen#melissa o’neil#eric winter#the rookie#gif#gifs#gifset#5x8#love this scene#they are beautiful#the flowers are beautiful#everything is just beautiful
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Mamabat- enter Jason 1/2
MASTERPOST
The air was different with Cass, now. Danny felt a little anxious as he followed her to the study after breakfast. Something about her was serious-determined-protective.
She always felt protective towards him. That was why he'd followed her in the first place. Some ghosts lied, but they couldn't do it with their aura. He knew what she really felt for him.
“Sit?” She asked him. She gestured at the big squashy chair. Danny did without complaint. Cass perched behind him and started dragging her fingers through his hair, relaxing him.
Man. She was good at this. Top tier mothering, right here. Danny went limp.
“I'm worried,” Cass broke the silence. She didn't sound worried. She never really did. Her voice was quiet and serious, but still kind. Her thumbs dug into his scalp. He pushed his head back against it. Bliss. “Barbara made you sad. Because you miss your sister?”
Danny tensed.
‘I should have figured that Batman would track me down.’
Maybe he had known, if he was honest with himself. It didn't hit him like a shock.
“Tim thinks your name is Fenton,” she added, brutally sensible as always. And yup, that was it. No point in denying it. “Declared dead. In danger?”
He sucked in air through his teeth. He wasn't going to lie to her.
“Worried,” she repeated.
He thought about it. He really did. Danny bit his lip.
She was liminal. That probably meant she'd come really close to death, in at least one sense of the word. Would that mean she was desensitized to it, or extra paranoid?
…It was hard to imagine Cass over or under reacting to a possible danger. She was just so steady. But would she see him as a possible danger if she knew what he was, what he really was?
He could feel it out before he took a plunge with the whole truth.
Maybe it was wrong. Maybe it was invasive. She didn't seem to realize that she was liminal. That meant she definitely didn't realize how much she was communicating to him under her words and gestures.
But Danny deliberately tuned into her quiet aural communication and tested the waters. “Tim is right, I'm Danny Fenton,” he said. He knew he was too tense. She would definitely feel it. But what could he do about that? He was nervous. “I… Maybe I did die.”
Her heart dropped to her stomach. He could feel the crush of grief on her heart.
But it didn’t wash away the thudding repetition of love-protect-my darling. There was no suspicion, no guilt, no fear. It was just pain for his sake, with no calculation about how to solve a sudden problem.
God. He wanted so badly for that to have been how his parents reacted. His eyes started to sting.
Danny sniffled. He thought it was safe to tell her. “I died,” he corrected, and he knew he was right when Cass made a little wounded sound and leaned her body into him, aiming to comfort. “Not then, but a couple years ago. I’m different now, and it’s uh… It’s dangerous to be this way.”
“Affects?” Cass asked quietly. She started to pet his hair again. “Mood? Health?”
“...Huh,” he said, because that was a sensible question he hadn’t expected. If he really thought about his mood and emotions before and after the accident: “Yeah, uh, there’s sometimes a mood thing. I might be a little more aggressive than I was before? And I can get kind of intense sometimes.”
He had thought that was basically just a reaction to having a whole bunch of new threats in his life. But would pre-electrocution Danny have been able to actually stand and fight Skulker? He had genuinely been afraid of the jocks. Maybe… Maybe he was different. Sure, Sam and Jazz were up for shooting ghosts with Fenton tech. Would he have been if he was just human?
…He didn’t really think so.
Oof. Well, that wasn’t exactly great for his sense of self.
Cass shook him lightly. “Health?” she repeated.
Danny forced down that revelation to deal with later. He didn’t like acknowledging that he was kind of a chicken by nature, but historically, there wasn’t much evidence of bravery pre-mortem. “Uh, my heart rate is really slow, body temp is low, so I can’t really afford to go to a doctor for a checkup,” he said. “Uh, sometimes I’ve got none at all and my hair turns white.” He paused there. That was- that was enough, yeah? He was going to be honest with her because she deserved honesty from him. But that didn’t mean he had to explain the whole great beyond and his inhuman status.
“Sounds like Jason,” Cass said, after a long silence.
Danny short-circuited. “Wait, what?” He craned to look at her. “Who?”
Cass darted forward to kiss his forehead. “Little brother,” she said cheerfully. “Want to meet him?”
Uh, yeah. Danny nodded vigorously, wondering what the hell she was on about. “Do you mean he died?”
“Died,” Cass agreed, getting out her phone and tapping away at it rapidly.
“Not like, heart stopped for a minute on the operating table and he was revived, or what?” Danny pressed.
“Dead in the ground, came back later,” Cass said. “Dead for months. Now, very crabby.”
Danny balked. “What?”
“White hair too,” she said. Then her face did something funny. “I think he dyed it recently,” she said.
Danny huffed a laugh. “If it’s the same thing as mine, you can’t dye it.” He saw her look over his head for white streaks. He didn’t correct her line of thought.
He hadn’t thought that anything could top the anticipation of meeting Batman. But Danny had to admit the rest of the day was a wash. Apparently Jason couldn’t make it until the evening, about an hour before patrol.
Danny nearly paced a line into the carpet. He had enough energy to do that now, even without ecto. He was getting soooo much food here. A guy couldn’t even stress out for an hour without someone coming by to make sure he had fruit and yogurt or a hot drink.
He didn’t need someone to come and tell him that the much anticipated Jason had shown up. Danny knew it when he went to take a sip of cruelty-free chocolate milk (hand delivered by the most frightening child in the world) and choked on vapor.
Damian gave him a glare and snatched the drink away. “Are you incapable of drinking beverages?” he demanded. His face looked so goddamn cross but he was just worried.
Danny managed a smile. “No, went down the wrong pipe, sorry.”
Damian didn’t seem to even see the fog, so- so that meant that either he was really unobservant or he wasn’t liminal enough to see it the way people did in Amity. That was a small blessing. Danny appreciated it and he took back his drink to have something to hold onto.
That was a whole ass ghost. That was a whole ghost coming onto the property, one that felt big and mad and old. Danny smacked his lips, disconcerted.
He, uh, didn’t know what to expect from this.
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First ofi love your Jason fic's, they are really great and they made me think could you write for Damian as well?
What about Damian x reader (gn or male pls) where they are really great friends but the family thinks they are in a relationship? You know the typical teasing girls usually experience as soon as she talks about a boy "oh is that you boyfriend" the same thing happens too Damian, and now he dreads bringing the reader to his house because his family always had something to say (except Alfred he's cool like that) and it also makes the reader uncomfortable. And one day Damian snaps at them for their weird behavior, telling them that they are the reason why the reader won't visit anymore
I hope this makes sense, if you don't like this, just ignore it.
Have a great day
Damian hated when he brought you over to the Manor and it’s not for the reasons many might expect. It was more so to do with how Dick, Tim and Jason seemed to always have something to say whenever you two were in a room together, only ever doing mundane activities but to Dick, Tim and Jason, it was viewed under an annoyingly unnecessary romantic context.
They firmly believed that in due to you being able to withstand Damian’s presence for as long as you have, that there must be romantic undertones integrated in every interaction between the two of you. The classic trope of friends being in love with each other but not knowing how to cross that line without ruining everything that was pre established from your longstanding friendship; Which was factually incorrect for so many reasons.
You and Damian weren’t anything more than friends and you both were content with that conclusion. However that didn’t stop you from feeling uncomfortable whenever Dick, Tim or Jason said anything about your suspected secret relationship that you’ve been poorly keeping from them. Damian hated that you couldn’t come to the manor without wanting to leave within the first five minutes of being there, he didn’t want to either but knew that you needed him for support whenever it does happen; and it was unfortunately an reoccurring theme within the Wayne manor.
The first time this happened you and Damian were in the library, reading. Your head was innocently resting against his shoulder and all because of the lack of sleep you had from binge watching the midnight release of the latest season for your favourite show. Had you been anyone else Damian would’ve laid you out flat but since it was you, Damian didn’t seem to mind but he then choice to chastise you for your lack to keep to a healthy sleep schedule.
‘You’re helpless.’ He stats and you pouted at him. ‘But Damian it was the last season! I had to binge watch it before people start spoiling it all over social media!’ You defended yourself but it was obvious that your friend wasn’t buying it for a second. ‘Tch. So was our test today but due to your habit of binge watching, and yet you just barely managed to somewhat passable score.’ He replied, not once looking up from his book as you leaned more into him. ‘Rude.’
‘I’m merely stating the-‘
‘Spare some room for Jesus there lovebirds.’ Both you and Damian looked over to see that Jason had entered the library when you were unawares and had a wolfish grin spread across his face. You tensed up at the implication, wordlessly removed your head from Damian’s shoulder and shuffled to the far side of the couch that you were both sitting on. All the while avoiding eye contact either him or Jason.
The latter (Jason) believed that this was done out of the fact that you had gotten caught but to the former (Damian) it was because you had grown uncomfortable with the comment made towards the nature of your assumed relationship to him. So all he could do without making the situation worse for you was to glare daggers into Jason, who only took this as Damian being mad that he interrupted his quality time with you.
The second time this mistake happened was when you and Damian were in the kitchen taking a much needed break from constant studying for the upcoming test at school, replenishing your hunger by wolfing down on some snacks. ‘You’ll choke if you keep that up.’ Damian said between bites of his own snack.
‘No I won’t.’ You rebutted, swallowing down the remains before shoving another bit of food into your mouth hastily and allowing for some crumbs to cling onto you in the strangest places, though mainly your cheek. Damian sighs and reaches across the table to rub the crumbs off with a handkerchief, muttering about how much of a messy eater you are. ‘Can’t even eat properly, never less sleep the required amount needed for proper functionality.’ He mutters under his breath.
‘Will you never left me live that down?’ You asked.
‘No.’ Damian replied without hesitation and you wondered if the question was even worth asking when he answered them in such a confident and sure fire way. Before you could get a chance to speak, Dick’s voice from the doorway butted in. ‘Do my eyes deceive me or is Damian being a gentleman for his lovely partner? Has hell truly frozen over?’ Damian was quick to retract his hand but it was too late, Dick saw everything and much like Jason, took it out of complete context.
‘We should get back to studying now.’ You said uncharacteristically stiff as you pushed yourself out of your chair and walked out of the room without so much of a word, shoulders hunched and head down when you passed by Dick, who watched in slight confusion as to what just happened. Damian on the other hand was starting to reach his limit with his brothers constant teasing, for how could they not see that it was clearly making you uncomfortable even if some of the teasing wasn’t aimed at you directly.
You took it personally on his behalf and he hates that in due to this it made your eagerness to spend time at to the Wayne manor dwindle. You were his first true friend and he didn’t want his brothers to be the reason you decided that you didn’t want to be his friend anymore. Damian wouldn’t admit it but deep down he was scared that he’ll loose you because of it, and that the only way to save your friendship would one day be reliant on your interactions during school hours. Damian knew he wasn’t the easiest to get along but he had to applause your persistence in wanting to befriend him, so much so that he didn’t want you ever thinking that he didn’t bother fighting for your friendship, because he would fight for your friendship with everything he had and then some.
For you’ve become a large part of him that he doesn’t think he could ever imagine living without now that you were so deeply integrated into his very being.
The third and last time you visited the manor was what made Damian snap. All you were doing was have a slow day with the added company of Titus, who was resting his head in your lap as you petted him; The poor dog missed you and it showed with how he whined whenever you dared to stop the pets, it would be made even more difficult not to as he would then paw at you persistently on top of all that.
‘I swear one of these days Titus will follow me home.’ You joked as you reminisced about the times when Titus would try and follow after you as pup and always disregarding Damian in favour for you and your cuddles. ‘He almost did once when you had to go home after our sleepover.’ Even Damian smiled softly at the memory of seeing Titus’ little head pop out of your bag after almost tearing apart the manor for the little mischief maker. He reached over to scratch the dog behind the ear -just how he liked to be scratched- and watched as Titus kicked his back leg in response.
‘He obviously still loves me a lot to be using my lap like this despite being too big to doing it anymore.’ You chuckled, looking down at the big dog with so much love and affection. Damian scoffed. ‘Don’t flatter yourself, Titus only likes you because you pamper and baby him.’ You gasped, covering Titus ears. ‘Don’t say that! Titus is still a baby in my heart!’ You exclaimed. The fully grown Great Dane then sneezed in his sleep and you acted as though he said something meaningful before looking back towards Damian ‘see, Titus agrees.’
‘Tch. You’re such a pain.’ Was Damian’s response as he looked away from you, only to see Tim stood a few feet away, watching you both much like how Dick and Jason did and Damian knew what was about to come out of his mouth before he even said it.
And apparently so did you as you managed to stand up, waking Titus up in the process, who was trying to get his bearings back as you said sombrely to Damian. ‘I’ll see you at school tomorrow, yeah.’ Before walking back towards the manor with Titus at your heels.
Before Tim could ask Damian shot him a murderous glare. ‘Batcave. Two days from now. Make yourself useful and bring Todd and Grayson with you.’ Was all he said before storming off towards the manor himself, leaving an taken aback Tim. His limit has officially been reached.
‘Why are we here Damian? Are you going to tell us that you need help with your partner-‘
‘Stop. Just stop with this nonsense you, Drake and Todd seemed to be hung up on because this false narrative you’ve created about myself and y/n is entirely make belief. And we’re suffering from it.’ Damian cuts Dick off but Jason was quick to speak next.
‘Why? Are you lovebirds not together anymore?’
Damian clenched his jaw but couldn’t contain his anger and annoyance towards this entire situation, wanting nothing more than for it to come to an end. ‘WE NEVER WERE TOGETHER TODD!’ Damian exploded. ‘WE WERE ONLY EVER JUST FRIENDS BUT DUE TO YOURS, GRAYSON AND DRAKES’ SHARED STUPIDITY, YOU’RE MAKING THEM UNCOMFORTABLE INTO EVER VISITING ANYMORE!’
‘Why didn’t either of you say anything-‘ Tim tried to talk but was quickly silenced by Damian who still had a lot more to get off of his chest. ‘WE TRIED BUT YOU WE ALL TOO BUSY TEASING US FOR BEING SOMETHING WE NEVER WERE!’ Damian liked to think he wasn’t the type to be quick to anger and how it was such a foolish thing to do. However Dick, Tim and Jason overstepped one too many times for Damian not to speak up about it, making sure it gets into their thick skulls that their weird behaviour almost cost him his friendship with you.
Jason, Dick and Tim felt stupid now and a little ashamed that their teasing could’ve quite possibly drove you away. It wasn’t their intention to do so, but they guessed that they admittedly got slightly ahead of themselves that they didn’t take into consideration of how you felt about all this. Now they felt like right dickheads.
‘I believe they’ve got the message master Damian.’ Alfred said as he looked at Dick, Tim and Jason who looked like a bunch of kicked puppies. ‘How about we invite master Damian’s friend for dinner so that you may tell them you’re sorry for your recent transgressions?’
Dick smiled softly at the butler whom had became another father figure to them. ‘That’s sounds perfect Alfred but only if y/n is comfortable to come.’ He, Jason, Tim and Alfred then all looked towards Damian who had calmed down significantly from his earlier outburst. ‘Tch. I’ll ask but I’m not guaranteeing anything.’ He says to them as he took out his phone to text you, adding a picture of an impatient Titus sitting at the front door waiting for you to come back for added effect, knowing how you couldn’t resist him.
It didn’t take long for you to reply with; ‘fine. I’m willing to bury the hatchet but as long as Titus gets to lay in my lap. That’s my only condition.’
Yep everything was going to be alright.
#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne imagine#damian wayne x y/n#damian wayne x you#Damian Wayne imagines#dc x y/n#dc x you#dc comics x reader#dc x reader#dc imagine#dc fic#dc fanfic#dc fanfiction
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Would it be too much to request a batsis oneshot, about her knowing how to cook😆 like whenever Alfred is not available he leaves her in charge to help ensure the other family members are eating without buring down the house🤭 also a lil thing u could add is she often visits the manor just to cook cuz Alfred always keeps the kitchen fully stocked with ingredients which means she can cook pretty much anything she desires💜 I just thought it'd be cute to have Bruce be envious of his daughters cooking skills whereas he lacks them🤭
Kitchen Antics
Thanks for requesting! This was cute to write!
Word Count: 1k
⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤
“I still don’t think this is very fair.” Bruce pouted as you slid the plate in front of him.
“Hm?”
“This.” He gestured to the plate that you had served to him, piled to the brim. It had taken you hours to prepare, especially without Alfred’s help, but it was well worth it. “How come Alfred lets you cook and not me. I’m a fully grown adult. I should be allowed to cook a meal for my family.”
“Maybe it’s because you can’t actually cook.” You threw over your shoulder with a smug grin.
That earnt a snort from Damian which he hid poorly behind a hand. Bruce shot him an unamused look.
“Can too.” Bruce said. This time you raised a brow as you slid into your seat.
“Oh yeah, because the last time you cooked it turned out great.” Jason rolled his eyes.
You remember it distinctly. It was one of the first times Alfred was away and had reluctantly let Bruce use the kitchen. He had regretted it the moment he returned because his kitchen was hardly recognisable. And the food Bruce had cooked was less so. If you could even count it as food. It was the furthest thing from edible. Somehow undercooked and burnt to a crisp around the edges at the same time. Even Alfred wasn’t sure how he managed to do that, and he had seen almost everything when baking with the rest of your brothers. It was safe to say that Bruce was no longer allowed in the kitchen after that. So, the responsibility turned to you.
Alfred had always said you had a natural talent for cooking, though you swore it was because you had the best teacher: You had spent countless hours helping him when you were younger and you were the only person he didn’t seem to physically wince at when you walked into the kitchen. So, naturally when he announced he was leaving this week he entrusted you to make sure the family were fed without the entire manor being burnt down, or being filled with takeout boxes.
Your brothers had tried countless times to worm their way into the kitchen, but you ushered them out every time. They were just as bad as Bruce when it came to cooking. There was one time Damian and Dick had tried to bake a cake to surprise Bruce on his birthday. And it did…when the fire they had started nearly set the whole kitchen alight. Luckily Alfred had smelt it before any real damage could happen, but the pair of adults were far from happy. Jason had never shown much interest in cooking. He would usually just grab himself a snack from one of the cupboards instead of actually cooking himself something, so he had never really been an issue to keep out. Though, often he would try to sabotage your work just to wind you up. As for Tim, he was the best out of the four boys. By no means a master at work, it was often slightly bland but he was the only one who hadn’t tried to kill everyone with his cooking so he got bonus points for that.
“That was one time.” Bruce turned his head away, pouting like a small child.
“Tt. Father, I think you’ve tried to poison us every time you’ve gone near the kitchen.” Damian jested through a mouthful of food. “Perhaps you should ask Joker to try it. Might take a villain off of our hands.”
Tim stifled a laugh. “This is lovely, Y/N. Thank you.”
You smiled. “Thank you.”
The six of you fell into a comfortable silence as you ate, before Bruce finally spoke up again. Cutting through the sound of cutlery scraping against china plates.
“Is my cooking really that bad?”
He was answered with silence. And a lot of smirks.
“...Are you jealous of Y/N, Father?” Dick grinned.
“Psh…No.”
Bruce was a terrible liar.
~
“Do you need any assistance, Miss Y/N?” Alfred poked his head around the kitchen door. He had returned from his trip not too long ago, glad to see that everyone had been well fed and that the house was still in one piece.
Glancing up from the bowl of ingredients you were whisking, you met Alfred’s proud glance. “No thank you, Alfred. You already have everything I need.”
Alfred smiled up at you. It was nice for you to stop by once in a while to see them. He enjoyed seeing you cook. Better yet he enjoyed tasting your new creations each week so he kept everything stocked, even if he knew he wouldn’t need it himself. The shelves were lined with all sorts of spices, flours, sugars and ingredients for you to create something new so that if you ever decided to stop by (which you liked to do at least once a week) he would have everything you could ever need.
Your brothers loved it when you would bring over food to them too. Most of it would be gone in minutes and they would turn to you asking for more. Bruce would do the same too, although he would still have that look of teasing jealousy on his face. But he was proud really. And glad that at least one of his children had enough common sense to not set the entire manor alight when baking a cake.
BATFAM TAGLIST:
@aestheticdaisies
@hell-o-kittys
@xxrougefangxx
@mamapucket
@hearts4robs
@harleycao
#batfam x reader#batfam x sister reader#batfamily#batfam#batfamily x reader#dick grayson#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson x sister reader#nightwing#nightwing x reader#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x sister reader#red hood#red hood x reader#tim drake#tim drake x reader#tim drake x sister reader#red robin#red robin x reader#damian wayne#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne x sister reader#robin#robin x reader#dc#dc x reader#dc fanfiction#bruce wayne#bruce wayne x reader
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Hello, I really a fans of your work and always waiting for the updates. I have a question, what happen if Y/n just ignore the batfam as Y/n also turn to superfam becoming their family. It also assuming Alfred A-Okay with it. Oh, also Y/n might be have relationship with one of the superboys and she love to cuddle with the lover. Well, that's just my wild imagination thinking about.
Oh well, I hope you have great days.❤️😘
Thank you for liking my work! If you're asking for part 4, it will come out soon and probably by the end of next week!
Well, I don't think Alfred would be totally a-okay with this and after a bit he would act to 'fix' the situation.
He wants you to stay at the Manor and be appreciated too by the Batfam even though they don't even know you exist.
He has tried before, talking about you to Bruce and the others but they always dismissed him with the excuse of being busy or forgetting about you the next day.
And seeing you giving up on being with your real family and finding love in another family that actually accepts you and he can't accept that.
You're supposed to be with him as the rest of the Waynes not with some alien family.
He would act like he supports you whenever you come to visit him since you mostly live with the Kents nowadays and come to the Manor to grab the things you needed since you were moving your stuff from the Manor to the Kents house.
After a while you start to come home, to come back to him even less before you just visit him maybe once a month before it turns into no more visiting him since you're busy with school, dance classes and the vigilante role you still have.
And Alfred hates it so he decides that he can't stand to watch his boys obsess over your vigilante persona when they can't even bother to notice you weren't living in the Manor anymore.
So he decides to call a family meeting without your knowledge and explains everything, who you were behind the mask and how dissapointed and ashamed that the people he raised didn't even acknowledge that you existed.
Their reaction, which were mostly of confusion before realisation bothered him but he stayed silent and used their reaction to manipulate them, make them think you weren't in the right place with the Kent family.
And after a week from that meeting, you started to receive texts from all the batfam and also kept seeing them everywhere, with Bruce at school or when you were patrolling the city.
He would always try to talk to you, which you ignored or gave him the finger while swinging away, preferring to not engage in his tries to connect with you.
Plus he would show up at your dance recitals when you never said anything to Alfred about them and he would always be right in first row with a smug smile since he knew you couldn't do anything.
Plus you already knew they knew who you were behind the mask, they said your name when you had your mask on so many times you wanted to punch their faces.
You had to skip a few days of school because Tim and Damian started to show up at your same highschool and sitting next to you in class, to which no one would say anything and it frustrated you since highschool was one of your safe places but not anymore.
You tried to ignore Dick and Jason's attempts at stalking you, not because it was noticeable since you never saw them but the spider sense made you aware you were being watched and after a bit you were able to notice them following you.
Yes you did feel proud since you didn't have any detective training like the others but still knew who was following just by using the things around you.
You vented your frustrations with Clark and Conner and they did help by letting you skip school and everything but you had to go back to school or it would affect your attendance and damage your reputation and curriculum for future colleges applications.
But one fateful day, you went to a mission with Conner and Clark since they needed a third person but couldn't bring Jon since he was busy with school, so you went in his place.
During the mission you got ambushed, Conner and Clark were at disadvantage since the attackers (not sure on the term, the people that attacks) somehow had kryptonite weapons.
Plus you were also fighting, using the tasers and also the objects around you like rocks or trees.
Yes, you did throw a tree at a group of them and you also got Clark telling you not to do it again. Did you listen though? No.
As you were fighting you suddenly got stung by something in the leg, and when you touched the spot where it hurt you saw a small dart there.
You opened your mouth to call for Clark or Conner but someone covered your mouth and held you as you fainted while Clark and Conner had to flee since the attackers were too strong with the kryptonite.
The last thing you saw was the smiling face of Dick before completely giving in the drug you got injected in your body, not hearing them fight about who was gonna carry you in the batmobile.
#dc#platonic yandere#male yandere#yandere batman#yandere#yandere dc x reader#yandere dc#batman#yandere batfam x reader#yandere batfam#yandere batfamily#yandere batboys#yandere alfred pennyworth#yandere bruce wayne#bruce wayne#do not ask me what time it is#I am finally done with this ask (I did love it)
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GUYS CAN WE **PLEASE** TALK ABOUT THIS
DO YOU GUYS KNOW WHAT DAMIAN GAVE TO EACH OF HIS FELLOW BAT SIBLINGS??? Because these are all real established items in DC canon!!
I’m going to work my way back from Dick, because, OMG.
Damian gave Dick the Sword of Sin. If that sounded vaguely familiar to you, you might be an Azrael fan because that is his preferred blade to use. What is so special about this sword??? It’s ability: The Sword of Sin can be ignited with the mind of the wielder, if the person is powerful enough. The sword has the ability to conjure in the mind of its victims all of the sins for which they are guilty or have not atoned for.
Golly gee, I wonder who this might be super effective against. You know. Giant bat guy with a guilt complex bigger than Texas. You can bet your butt Dick is going to send Bruce through a series of ‘Nam war flashbacks before this series is over. I can absolutely see why Damian would give Dick this weapon here, as he’s known Bruce the longest. I can easily see what part in this story Dick is going to be playing as he clearly has the most directly effective weapon against Batman. Damian’s favoritism here is both sweet and a little cruel if you think about the context much.
Now let’s talk about Stephanie’s weapon, and yes she very much is Damian’s older sibling even if she isn’t a Wayne. Damian gave her the Coup-Stick of Black Bison (A DC Super Villain.) What can this staff do??? The mystical power of the coup-stick can animate material objects and in so doing, command these objects to do its bidding. This power cannot affect living biological material, but can affect non-living organic tissue. Black Bison once used the coup-stick to re-animate the stuffed remains of a white stallion (as well as other animals). Black Bison has also used the coup-stick to control the weather, such as summoning a strong wind to deflect attackers.
Guys Damian gave Stephanie a weapon that will allow her to call on back-up, and COMMAND her own creations, a weapon that allows her to be a leader!! Something she has wanted for a long time??? Also, it sounds like it has the power to control the weather??? Damian really said #girlboss and how much he loves her without actually saying it. I cannot stress enough how well DC could do her justice in this series if they at least tried.
Now, wow. Damian really straight up gave Jason’s dramatic ass the actual Trident of Poseidon, which is an unbreakable weapon that that serves as an extension of the wielder’s own power. Damian really gave Jason not only a King’s weapon, but a godly weapon. What other powers it has might not be relevant to whatever power it might awaken with Jason as its wielder.
Damian really cut out the middle man and just said, “Look, you are stupidly strong. I’m going to give you a stupidly strong weapon. Have at ye!” And you know Jason is going to wield that thing like he’s Poseidon, rightful ruler of the sea. I literally cannot wait to see Jason just absolutely power-housing his way through whatever gets in his way.
Lastly, but not least in the slightest, Damian gave Tim the Cloak of Cagliostro! Which I want to acknowledge right off the bat, 🎶one of these things is not like the others~🎶 And thank Rao for that, because: The Cloak of Cagliostro is a magical item which allows the wearer to teleport, and to become intangible, and invisible.
That is the *cutest* Easter Egg ever! Gotham Knights acknowledgement of Tim’s teleporting anyone????? Tim was the only one Damian gave a defensive weapon, and not an offensive weapon to. And that makes sense, because Tim is a defensive fighter! Tim never has to be the strongest person in the room. He just needs to be clever enough to use what he knows to win. Instead of giving him a weapon to swing around, Damian gave him something that Tim could use to protect himself, and actively use to make ALL of his skillsets stronger, not just his fighting power!!! This! Is! NOT! Damian looking down on Tim or considering him weaker. He’s playing to Tim’s strengths! He literally gave his big brother a cloak that straight up is like a cheat-code of meta-powers that would suit Tim SO WELL, because he knows Tim will be able to use those abilities to bullshit levels of effectiveness!!
It genuinely looks like thought went into what weapons each of the Robins were given. I know fanon likes to bash on Damian or bash on his relationship to his siblings, or vice-versa, but in canon it has been clear for some time now that Damian considers all former and current Robins his family. (Including Tim. He refers to Tim as Timothy nowadays, and calls him his brother, that’s not fanon) No matter if Damian is not himself right now, he’s genuinely looking out for all of their best interests, and is ensuring that each one of them is as well-equipped as possible.
Regardless, genuinely curious to see how each of these weapons will be used by their respective Robins, and how this will all end up. Hopefully, it ends with a giant group hug that will break the internet. (Also, ngl, I hope if Tim gets a new superhero identity soon his new suit will play off of Gotham Knight’s Tim’s abilities or be based off this cloak. Just think that would be neat ✨)
#batfam#batman#robin#damian wayne#dick grayson#stephanie brown#jason todd#tim drake#batman vs robin#gotham knights#meta analysis#nightwing#red hood#the spoiler#dc comics#bruce wayne#also I got my info on the weapons from dc wiki#still reeling over how cool this stuff is#comic spoilers
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Here have some snippets of the AU that’s taken over my brain (featuring Elle unintentionally dunking on both of Bruce’s identities, Clark realizing he passed his taste in partners on to his son, a bit of pre/unaware that they are dating Super Serious Chaos, and some blink-and-you-miss-it background Enemies to Lovers Dick/Dan)
---
“Sorry, who’s Bruce Wayne?”
The room when quiet. All heads turned to look at Elle at the end of the table. Bruce didn’t visibly react, but Clark could make out the subtle indication of disbelief that his old friend was feeling - that they all were feeling at the interpreter’s question. Elle, suddenly aware she had the full room’s attention, had the look of someone who realized they’d said something wrong, but didn’t know what.
“You’re kidding.” John said, “You know Bruce Wayne. Everyone knows Bruce Wayne.”
Elle blinked. “I don’t.” She glanced from face to face, “Is he like a big deal? Does he work here or something? I haven’t been around that long so I might have missed him.”
It took every bit of self control Clark had not to laugh. His voice still came out a bit strangled from the effort as he offered, “No he doesn’t work here.” If Bruce was the type to do so in uniform, he’d be kicking Clark under the table.
“You live in Gotham. You have to know Bruce Wayne.” Barry said, voice going a bit high with growing bewilderment. “Mega ba-jillionair. CEO of Wayne Tech? Richest man in Gotham - in the world? Has like a hundred kids?”
Their interpreter’s nose scrunched. “So he’s like…in one of those fundamentalist cults obsessed with having a bunch of kids or something?”
Bruce actually twitched at that. The sound of utter disgust in Elle’s voice at the concept, the complete and total lack of any kind of recognition she had for the single most famous non-crime or crime-fighting related person in the city that she lived in, she truly had no idea who they were talking about. Clark had to get a recording of the room’s security feed, Lois would love this. Oh, wait no, Bruce’s kids. Maybe if he was fast enough he could text Dick to get there ASAP so he could see it all in person before it was over.
“No! Nothing like that! He adopted them - well most of them.” Barry tried to explain, looking utterly lost as he turned from Elle to the rest of them and back again. “You’re messing with us right? This is like a joke?”
Elle shook her head, looking just as lost as Barry did. “I have no idea who you’re talking about.”
“Do you know Dick Grayson?”
“I know of an officer Grayson who is a dick. Total tool. He’s been making my brother’s Dan’s life miserable for like a year now. Pretty sure not who you’re talking about though.”
“Jason Todd.”
“The library goon?”
“Tim Drake.”
“Sounds like a Dark Wing Duck character.”
“Cassandra Cain.”
“Isn’t that the author that started out writing incest Harry Potter fanfic?”
“Duke Thomas?”
“What’s he a Duke of?”
Barry snapped his fingers, pointing emphatically at Elle with a look of victory on his masked face as he shouted, “Damian Wayne!”
Damian, who had at that moment just walked into the meeting room with Jon at his heels paused in his place just behind Elle. He did pretty well at hiding his surprise at Barry seemingly shouting his civilian name and pointing at him upon walking in. Though the tense line of his shoulders suggested that if Barry was actually revealing his secret identity without warning or permission, there would be blood.
Stella Nightingale, unaware of the almost-kinda identity reveal going on around her, tilted her head in confusion at the speedster. “I’m assuming he’s related to that Bruce Wayne guy?”
“They’re all related to Bruce Wayne.” John said with open amusement now. The Green Lantern had given up on the research entirely, watching the entire debacle with a growing smirk he kept casting towards Bruce. “That man’s face is plastered absolutely everywhere in the news. How do you not know who he is?”
“If Lois Lane hasn’t written about him he can’t be that important.” Elle said with a casual certainty of one speaking a core tenant of their beliefs. Clark’s opinion of the young woman - already quite high considering her ferocious loyalty and fondness to Jon - rose sharply.
“You’re read the Daily Planet?” Clark asked, warmth curling in his chest at the mention of his wife and her work.
“I read articles by Lois Lane.” Elle said promptly, “I tried reading some articles that Kent guy she partners with sometimes wrote on his own but I couldn’t get past his writing style. Dude sounds like he’s from outer space with his word choice sometimes.”
Bruce, looking far too pleased, gave a quiet and not terribly convincing cough as Clark tried to will his soul back into his body.
It was going to be a long day.
—
“You are at least aware of who Gotham’s vigilantes are, yes?” Damian asked with a raised brow behind his mask.
Elle shrugged, giving him a sly smile. “The relevant ones.”
Clark tried to hide his short laugh with a feigned cough. Elle at least was distracted enough with Jon and Damian’s attention to notice but Bruce was giving him a look over the tablet he was trying - and undoubtedly failing - to review files on.
Jon grinned eagerly from his spot beside Elle as he asked, “Aren’t they all relevant to you? You live in Gotham.”
“I live in Crime Alley.” Elle corrected, bumping his shoulder with hers. “We have different standards of relevancy there.”
“So what are the relevant ones then?” Clark asked, pointedly ignoring Bruce’s burning stare. They’d get back to the research. Eventually. Finding out if the Gothamite who had been spending all her free time with Phoenix and Flamebird for the past year and a half was as oblivious to her city’s heroes as she was its celebrities was too entertaining a notion to pass up.
“Phoenix, obviously.” She grinned cheekily at Damian across the table, ticking names off her fingers as she continued. “Red Hood. Spoiler. Uh…Orphan?” She trailed off, forehead scrunching in concentrated thought.
“That’s can’t be all the ones you know.” Jon gaped, eyes sparkling with amusement as he glanced over to were Bruce was seated, not five feet away before turning back to watch Elle try to rack her brain for any more Gotham vigilantes. Clark could see the moment that the words are taken as a challenge as Elle sat up and looked more determined.
“No, shut up, I know more. Uh…there’s the one, um Red Sparrow? It’s another bird one with red name, I’m pretty sure. And the one with the blue - fuck I should know his name. Nightjar? Wasn’t Nightingale I would have remembered that…shit, dude threw up on our couch once I should remember his name -“
“Nightwing threw up on your couch?”
“Nightwing! That’s the bitch! He got poisoned or something and Dan drug him to our place to patch him up since Doc Thompkins’ clinic was closed.”
Clark shared a look with Bruce and Damian. Dick had failed to mention that little event. Clark could see Bruce reaching for his wrist computer, undoubtedly typing out a message his eldest about what he’d just heard - possibly another to Alfred if he was feeling like pulling out the big guns.
At the other end of the table Elle ticked Nightwing off with a nod, even as Jon squawked that it shouldn’t count since he’d given her the name, “Then there’s…uh…oh! Harley Quinn!”
“Harley Quinn does not count.”
“She beat up a guy trying to mug me last week and got me a hot chocolate afterwards, she totally counts!”
“Someone tried to mug you?”
“Crime Alley, Nix, if someone doesn’t try to mug me while I’m out I get worried that I missed Hood calling in a Street Clear for something big.”
“We’re going to circle back on that later.” Jon said, sharing a pointed glance with Damian. It looked like young Miss Nightingale was going to be getting escorted to and from the Watchtower from now on.
Ah, Clark mused, falling head over heels for someone with no understanding of the concept of self-preservation and a stubborn determination to run straight into the heart of danger without a second thought. It brought back such fond memories. Of both Lois and Bruce. And Diana. And - Hmm. Kara might have been right. Clark might have a type.
Watching the three at the other end of the table and taking them in, Clark realized he might have passed his taste in partners on to his son. Well, at least he’ll be able to give Jon some advise on how to handle the heart attacks Damian and Elle will inevitably give him.
“Harley Quinn doesn’t count. You got any more?”
Elle rolled her eyes, muttering about Harley totally counts, before leaning back in her chair. “I think I’m out. I know there’s more but,” She gave a shrug, “I’m tapped out. Those are all the ones I can think of.”
It was, surprisingly, Bruce that spoke up at that declaration, a slant of amusement to his lips as he asked, “No one else comes to mind?”
Elle waved him off, attention turning to the mountain of alien script they needed her to translate for them. It was the reason she was even there rather than in her office trying to translate whatever incredibly dangerous magic tomb JL Dark had dropped off without accidentally summoning a demon or ending hte world in the process. J’onn was right, they really should give her a raise.“That’s all I got.” She said with a sigh, “Like I said, I know the relevant ones.”
“Hn.”
Twenty minutes of shared looks of amusement and suppressed laughter later Elle’s head shot up, a look of wide eyed embarrassment on her face. “Oh my god.”
“There it is.”
“About time Nightingale, I was starting to be concerned about your mental faculties.”
“Shut up, this so embarrassing!”
“Don’t sweat it kid, we all have our moments.”
“I can’t believe I forgot Signal.”
“What.”
---
Context of this snippet if anyone is interested:
This is actually the same AU as the Steph & Jason sibling bonding Anger Management snippet from a bit ago (I’m calling it my Ghosts in Gotham AU in scrivener so I guess that’s what I’ll call it here lol). This time focused on Elle and her misadventures as a Totally Normal Civilian (TM) working for the Justice League with her two besties Jon & Damian (none of them realize yet that they’ve been dating for months).
No idea when this is supposed to take place in terms of timeline with the other snippet, but kinda vibing the idea that while Steph & Jason are having a heart to heart on a rooftop over their shared background and Jason’s future as a dad, Elle is up in the Watchtower telling Bruce Wayne to his face that she has no idea who he is and forgetting Batman is a Gotham vigilante while he’s sitting at the same table as her.
Anyway, this AU has taken over my life. Expect more nonsense to come lol
#dp x dc#dc x dp#dpxdc#dani phantom#danielle phantom#super serious chaos#superseriouschaos#jon kent#jon el kent#Damian Wayne#clark kent#justice league#bruce wayne#barry allen#john stewart#ghosts in gotham au#batfam#elle doesn't pay any attention to the famous people in gotham unless they're trying to kill her or save her#and she might not even pay attention then#and yes this is more of my headcanon that the Justice League is the world's biggest polycule#no i will never let that headcanon go i love it too much#there's a version of this world where Elle never figures out that Bruce Wayne is supposed to be kind of a big deal#years in the future she Dami & Jon are married & she has a new friend she's made over for lunch#and they see some of the family photos and are like#is that fucking Bruce Wayne at your wedding?#Elle - oblivious: oh you know my father-in-law?#Bruce gets unmasked before Elle knows about everyone's identities & he's freaking out while she's just#full lex luthor moment: I have no idea who this is#Bruce: you know who I am now#Elle - does not know who he is but doesn't want to admit to it guessing: Clark Kent?
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Private Dick
Tim Rockford x plus size reader
Co-written with @absurdthirst
Rating: E for Explicit! 18+
Word Count: 11.8k
Warnings: Plus size female reader with anxiety and internalized fatphobia/dysphoria. Tim is divorced with a shitty ex. Food/alcohol. Biting, fingering, shower sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, blink and you'll miss it vague reference to a pregnancy kink, brief mention of body shaming/bullying, a lot of talk about one character being vegan. SO MUCH FLUFF. Supportive love is a wonderful thing.
Summary: Things are getting serious with your boyfriend, and that means that it's time for your anxiety to come out to play. But if there's one amazing thing about Tim, it's how much he cares.
Notes: We just really needed some supportive fluff and hot smut this week, guys. I don't know what else to say ❤💛🧡
“So uh, there’s gonna be a get together at my mom’s house this weekend.” Tim fastens his watch and looks around for the toothpick that he had set down. He swears he has to lay off the pepper beef, the shit always gets trapped in his teeth, but every time they order from Happy Dumplings for the office, he gets the same thing. Standing up, he slides his boxers back up over his hips and looks over his shoulder. “I might have told her that I would bring you.”
"You told your mom about me?" You were halfway out of his bed and hunting around the floor of his bedroom for your panties when he said it and your head snaps up to look at him. God, the man really has a fantastic little ass.
“Well…yeah.” Tim frowns as he reaches for his pants. “She tried to set me up with some chick from her church, says I need a good woman to take care of me.” He snorts, remembering how his ex-wife used to say she would take care of him until the late nights and crushing pressure of the job had sent her into Tommy Litchfield’s bed. The divorce hadn’t been pretty and he had seen the kids four weeks out of the year. “Figured we had been…. seeing each other long enough, so I told her.”
It's been almost seven months since you and Tim started seeing each other, as he puts it, and you know the time right down to the day. Six months, three weeks, and one day. That was the best accidental first date of your life, and even though his job is demanding, you don't mind. You have hobbies and friends - your family and your own job - all to deal with. Time with him has been the icing on the proverbial cake. Hell, the first time he called you his girlfriend was barely a month ago and you had nearly giggled yourself silly, still in that first blush of happiness in your relationship. "So...what kind of get together is this?" Your panties had gotten hooked on his bedpost and you delicately pull them down with a smothered snort. "Should I be dressing up or are jeans okay?"
“Backyard party.” He tells you. “My brother-in-law pretends he can grill worth a shit, while he gets drunk off his ass.” Tim chuckles. “We eat burnt hamburgers that a dog wouldn’t touch while the kids play in the pool. Or just lounge around it and bitch now that they are older.”
"The kids...as in...your kids?" You know the rundown - the divorce, the custody negotiations, all the bullshit that he went through ten years ago. His ex-wife had been awarded primary custody of his then ten-year-old twins and she had barely allowed him to see them each year since. In fact, he had gotten to see his niece and nephew a hell of a lot more, and as such he has a pretty good relationship with them as adults.
“Yeah.” He shrugs into his shirt and starts to button it up. He has to go back to the office to go through witness statements. Barely getting enough time for lunch and a quickie, he hopes that you aren’t tired of him yet. “They are home for the weekend from college.”
"Okay." Your agreement is instant, although it's muffled somewhere inside your dress as you pull it back over your head. Both of your lunch breaks are almost over and you both have to get back to your offices. "Yeah. Count me in. Absolutely." Well...this is gonna be all you think about until the weekend...
“Good.” He flashes you a grin when your head pops through your dress and he reaches for the gun that’s on the nightstand to loop back through his belt. “Make sure you bring your bathing suit.”
"I don't—" Oh god...that's right...he mentioned a pool. A quiet panic wraps itself around your heart and squeezes your chest, and you duck down to find your shoes so he won't see it in your eyes. "Uh—right. Bathing suit. Got it." You'll just have to pretend you forgot when the day comes, that's all. No harm there. Just silly and forgetful old you.
“Fuck, we need a longer lunch break.” Tim grumbles, stepping over to zip up your dress and he kisses the back of your neck. “Want me to come over tonight if it’s not too late?”
"I always want you to come over," you admit softly. He really does have that effect on you - always reducing you to a puddle of a grown-ass-woman when he's sweet and affectionate like this. "Baked pasta for dinner? I can warm you up a plate if it's late when you get out." There are strains of real domesticity in your relationship and you like that it's stayed functional. You're separate people with separate lives, but they're starting to fuse together in little ways.
“I love your pasta.” He admits, reminding himself that you are far too good for him and despite the fact that he was often beaten up by his workload and the grim reality he deals with on a daily basis, you are becoming a safe haven for him. “But if it’s too late, I just want to slip into bed with you.” He admits. “Wrapping my arms around you and falling asleep.”
"Here..." Your purse is sitting on his bureau against the wall by the door, and you pad over to it to pull out your keys. It's a great big, giant gesture to make, but you unclip your house key from the ring and cross the room again to hold it out to him. "I think we're both adult enough to make this step, don't you?" There's a spare key in a little ceramic rock positioned specifically in your front garden that will make its way onto your key ring when you get home, but you want to make this step. You want to show Tim that you're serious about him – especially if he wants you to meet his family this weekend.
He frowns at the key as he looks down at it, noticing the logo of the manufacturer. “I’m going to change your locks this weekend too.” He decides with a grunt. “These locks are shit.”
Even as you’re rolling your eyes, you can’t help but smile. His way of showing affection isn’t always obvious, but you’ve learned to see the signs. “Just take the key, baby. Accept the gesture and take the key.”
“Here.” He digs into his pocket for his own key ring. There’s already a spare on his other key ring, so he quickly works the key off and hands it to you. “You know, for when you plan to meet me and maybe you need to pee. Or you want to come over and jump me in the middle of the night.” He jokes with a small wink.
“So…for all the time?” It’s less sexy and more awkwardly charming when you throw a wink back at him, and you reach up to give him a kiss. “Come on, sexy. We have jobs to get back to.”
He chuckles and pats your ass he you turn around. “I’ll give you a call, m’kay babe? Let you know about what time I’ll be over.”
"Sounds good." As much as Tim always insists he likes your ass, you always have to bite back a small frown when he pats it - there's just too much of it. Too much of you in general. Nope...don't go down that road right now...just check your reflection in the mirror to make sure your hair is okay and reapply your lipstick before you get back to the office. You'll be fine. "See you tonight, baby."
“Wouldn’t miss it.” He promises, watching you walk towards your car with a small grin on his face. While he had made mistakes, been married to his job for too many years, he was trying to do right by you. Wanting this new relationship to work. He’s crazy about you and he can’t wait for you to meet his family.
******
It's four excruciating days of worry until the day of the get-together at Tim's mother's house is finally here. He came over late last night after an interrogation and climbed into your bed to wrap himself around you and fuck both of you into exhaustion. To that end, he is still asleep upstairs while you putter in the kitchen. Coffee made, a pan of apple cobbler in the oven and whipped cream made from coconut cream because he had told you months ago that one of his daughters is vegan. There's a great big container of cold peanut noodles with all kinds of veggies in your fridge, too. All that nervous energy you have has gone into cooking, and you frown behind your coffee cup when you remind yourself that habits like this are why you hate looking at yourself in the mirror.
Tim has gotten used to waking up in your bed, probably far faster than he should have, but there is a connection with you that he hasn't felt in a long time. So it doesn't take long for his hand to seek out your soft, warm skin in his sleep. He had pulled your nightgown off of you and tossed it on the floor, both of you staying naked after he had fucked you. His frown precedes his eyes opening when he finds nothing but the cool spot on the bed where you should have been. Where did you go?
Heavy footsteps on the stairs are your giveaway, and you pour a cup of black coffee for Tim after turning down the volume on your music yet again. “Morning, handsome.”
"Why didn't you wake me?" He squints at the bright light, your curtains and blinds already opened. He could kiss you when you offer the coffee and he does, reaching for you to pull you close for a quick kiss to thank you.
“It was early.” Even though you shrug apologetically, the kiss is welcome and so is the place in his arms. “And you work hard, so you deserve the sleep.”
He hums and rubs your back softly. "Would rather spend time with you." He kisses your forehead and then pulls back, taking a sip of his coffee. "It smells good in here." Standing in your kitchen in his boxers should look odd, but it feels normal. He's been here enough that he knows the layout pretty well.
“I made my apple cobbler that you like…” you admit with a sheepish shrug of your shoulders. “But I made it vegan so your daughter can have some. And…my peanut noodle recipe is vegan anyway, so that’s in the fridge.” He had insisted that you didn’t need to make anything to bring to his mother’s house today but here you are, cooking up a storm.
It takes a moment for that to register and then he's sighing softly. "You are too good, you know that?" He asks, setting the coffee cup down again so he can pull you in for another kiss. "I – you are amazing and thoughtful." He knows he wouldn't have even thought about making something for Zara. Not because he's neglectful, but because he wouldn't even know where to begin making something vegan. "Everyone is going to love you."
“I hope so.” You’re not naive enough to think that his grown kids will automatically love their father’s girlfriend for any reason, and you’ve got just enough in the way of self-esteem issues to be worried. But you fully intend to make the best impression possible today.
"Do you want to shower?" He asks, smirking slightly. "I brought my overnight bag." He routinely keeps a bag in the trunk of his car in case of overnight cases and needing a change of clothes. "We can swing by my apartment to change into something more casual on the way."
"I keep telling you to put clothes in that overnight bag." The offer of a shower is tempting, though, and you glance at the timer on the oven. "The pan comes out of the oven in two minutes. Then I'm all yours."
"I do have clothes in the bag." He grumbles at you. "Work clothes." He watches as you move gracefully around your kitchen, admiring the way you work so efficiently. There's a small smile on your lips that he's pretty damn sure you aren't even aware that you have, but it makes you look even sexier in his eyes.
"Then we'll stop at your apartment on the way." His divide between work clothes and civilian clothes is stark, and you don't begrudge him that for one second. You certainly have two sections of your closet, and hardly ever wear work clothes on the weekends.
The timer goes off and he smiles, sipping his coffee as you rush over to pull the pan out. "Now it's my time." He growls playfully, setting down the cup and moving behind you as you set it down on the oven mitt.
Even as he hauls you backward you have the urge to remind him not to try to pick you up. Thick thighs and too much tummy and saggy arms that you hate are too much for his perpetually bad back and knees after decades on the force. "Come on, handsome," you laugh softly when he presses a kiss to the juncture of your neck and shoulder. "Let's go take that shower."
The softness of your ass against his groin makes his cock start to harden. Making him groan as he pushes it into you with a suggestive thrust. "Mhmmmm, we could get dirty first." He chuckles and nips at your pulse. "Or would you rather I fuck you in the shower?"
"I thought that's what showers are for?" Your shower, anyway. The cramped space in his apartment is no good for anything but being functional. Your house, however, has a large shower stall with excellent water pressure and a separate overlarge tub in the master bath. It had been half the reason for buying the house in the first place.
"That's what should happen in every shower we take." He groans, smirking into your skin before he pulls away to take your hand. "What do you think, baby?"
"I think you're a menace," you tease, lacing your fingers through his. "And I am absolutely here for it."
He laughs as he walks a step behind you up the stairs, still holding onto your hand and cannot resist slapping your ass with his other when you move up an extra step and it's in his face. "Fuck, I love your ass." He grunts.
Too big, your dysphoria supplies immediately, and you're glad he can't see your face as you climb the stairs together. You've never been skinny but it seems like since you got past your thirtieth birthday, everything got a little bigger out of protest. Everything except your tits. "I'm glad you like it," you manage, hoping you sound bright and teasing.
"Next time I have you on your stomach, I'm going to bite it." He threatens playfully, slapping it again right as you reach the top of the stairs. His cock twitches at the thought and he’s halfway toying with the idea of seeing if you would let him fuck your ass. It's not been talked about, and he's not just going to ask.
"Wouldn't be the first time you left teeth marks in me." That actually makes you laugh, remembering the first time your best friend had noticed the imprint of Tim's pearly whites when you had gone to her house after leaving his place. It was how she found out you were seeing someone, and you hadn't lived it down for weeks.
His growl catches in his throat and his hand tugs you back, spinning you around and pressing you up against the wall so he can kiss you again. This thing with you has progressed to the point where those three little words dance in his head when he is thinking of you. Still not quite voiced, they are there. Making him crave you even more when he has you nearby and he transfers that into the pressing of your lips together.
It's a sigh and a muffled groan from you, and your arms come up around his neck easily to encourage him to take whatever he wants. He's fucking irresistible and while you still can't quite grasp why he seems to want you, you're not going to question it and ruin the best adult relationship you've ever had. You're almost grateful to the idiot that broke into your office building and caused all of you to have to make statements to the police.
You had seemed to think that you needed to wear fancy lingerie when he first started sleeping with you, but the loose nightgowns you wear now are just as sexy and far easier to access. Thankful that you had taken his word and started wearing them to bed at night. His hands plunging underneath so he can cup your tit, his other hand twisting to slide into your panties as he groans into your mouth.
Tim's fingers are thick and nimble, and you never would have thought gun callouses could be sexy until you felt them slide through your pussy the first time. The hand fully encompassing one of your tits squeezes in earnest and you groan, hips already rocking against his other hand. "Fuck, Tim."
“That’s it, baby.” He grunts, kissing down your jaw and biting your ear. “Fucking love how wet you get. Pussy is gushing for me.”
Broad shoulders, broad chest, thick fingers, quick tongue, a smile that can leave you in a daze. How would you not be absolutely gushing for him? "Always," you sigh out, breath catching when he curls his fingers against your g-spot expertly. "Need you so bad, baby."
“Just what I want to hear.” His cock pulses against your soft belly and he wants nothing more than to lift you up and fuck you against this wall. Except you would squawk the entire time to put you down. Instead, he pumps his fingers diligently, eager to make you cum so he can fuck you in the shower.
The press of those thick digits inside of you has you gasping and clinging to him as he thrusts two fingers inside of you, adding a third to make you squeal and shake even harder. His eagerness makes perfect sense considering you weren't in bed beside him when he woke up, and you let your forehead drop forward to his bicep as you ride his fingers closer and closer to cumming right there in the hallway of your little house.
“You gonna cum for me baby?” He asks, always loving when you come apart for him. It’s a gorgeous sight. “Gonna soak my fingers? Squeeze them tight?”
"I—fuck—" Three fingers in your cunt and his thumb against your clit is too much all at once in the best way possible, and you're nodding against his arms as that tingling feeling at the base of your spine explodes and you start to shake apart. For a man who claims not to have dated a lot and have been rusty on intimacy when you had first gotten together, he never lost that muscle memory of how to be an amazing lover.
“So fuckin’ pretty when you cum.” He coos in your ear, feeling your cunt sucking his fingers in deep and starting to squeeze them. “Cum for me baby.”
Your fingernails bite into his arms as you grasp him tightly, entire body tensing completely before falling apart completely – flooding his hand with cum and slumping backward against the wall so you aren't too heavy on his arm. "Goddamn, baby..." you pant with a small giggle when you can breathe again, the orgasm exploding like shooting stars behind your still closed eyes.
“Fuck, I need to be inside you.” He feels the slick coating his fingers and wants to sink inside your quivering cunt. “Shower?”
“Shower.” It doesn’t matter that your legs are jelly, you can make it ten more feet into the bathroom. Your nightgown is pulled off of you before you hit the door, and his own boxers pushed down and kicked off. Leaving you in your panties as he opens the glass door to turn the shower on.
“Just what I needed today.” You’re only half teasing as you strip off your panties and toss them in the nearby laundry basket. “To be freshly fucked when I meet your family.”
He grunts, crowding you into the shower when you climb in and turning you around to face the wall. “You want to talk to my mama with a load of my cum in your pussy?” He grins, biting your neck again. “I can make that happen.”
“You can’t just say shit like that to me.” It earns him another moan and you back your ass up against his hips eagerly. “It’s gonna be all I can think about all day.”
“Good.” He chuckles roughly as his hands grip your hips and he presses closer. His cock folding up against his body and pressing into the cleft of your ass insistently. “It’s gonna be all I think about too. Imagining you dripping. Licking you clean.”
“Gonna have to slip away to your old room to get handsy.” You tease, knowing that his mother still lives in the house he grew up in.
“Fucked my first girl in that bed.” He grunts, silently acknowledging that it would be fitting that he fucks his last girl there too.
“Gonna make me another notch on that bedpost, Rockford?” You grin over your shoulder at him as his hands knead your ass. “I bet it was some homecoming queen. Or cheerleader. Do baseball games have cheerleaders?”
“Sometimes.” He smirks and shakes his head. Aware that you have some notion that he was some kind of stud when he was younger. “But maybe that new notch will be fun.” He poses as he rocks his hips back to take his cock in his hand.
"Getting you all riled up until you fuck me is always fun." All of Tim is thick. From his muscled limbs and shoulders that test the limits of store-bought shirts, all the way to his cock. The feeling of his head pushing your pussy open makes you moan, and you brace yourself against the wall of the shower for him to take as much as he wants from you. There's a certain amount of bliss involved in being intimate with Tim and you can usually push away your insecurities in favour of seeing - and feeling - just how much he enjoys touching you. Right now, the thoughts drop away and the only thing left is yes and more and oh god.
“Fuuuuuuuuuck.” He groans as he splits you in two. “I fucking love this pussy.” His breath is heavy in your ear and he rolls his hips until he is buried deep. “Perfect, baby, you’re fucking perfect.”
Perfect. Nobody had ever called you that before, and you had instinctively laughed the first time Tim had used the word. Since then you've tried to be a little kinder with yourself, and accept that just because you don't think you're perfect doesn't mean that he can't think so. "Just for you," you groan happily, reaching back to squeeze his hip. "Only for you, baby."
His lips trail over your skin and he can’t help but continue to kiss you. Loving how you clutch him deep inside your body and the softness of you against him. Reaching for your hands, he laces his fingers with yours and lays them against the wall, sliding his feet closer.
The cold tile against your front and Tim's hot skin at your back is an intense combination that you love – an extra reason to moan with every thrust. His body seems to cover every inch of you, enveloping you in his presence, and it's almost hard to move except to grind back against him every time he fills you up. It's a gorgeous feeling that you so easily get lost in.
“Fuck, how does it get better?” He pants into your ear. “Every fucking time, you feel even better. Addicted to you.”
"Perfect." He is the perfect one, and you won't hear anything to the contrary, panting out words with every slap of his hips against your ass. "Perfect cock. Perfect fuck. Perfect man. I—" For a moment, in your rapture, the words almost slip. Thank god you manage to swallow them quickly. "So good, baby."
“I know you’re gonna cum for me again, aren’t you?” He asks, rocking his hips forward to slap against your ass as he picks up his pace.
“Just like that.” You know it won’t take long now, not if he goes just a tiny bit harder like he does when he gets close, and the begging in your voice always gets him, too. Every time. “So fucking perfect, baby. Please let me cum fo—oh fuck— so close!”
Tim hisses, squeezing your hands as he rocks up into the balls of his feet. Thrusting harder into you. “Yessss, fuck, cum for me baby.”
Bearing down on his length this time, you can practically feel his pulse through the prominent veins of his cock as they scrub against your walls. The pressure is just as perfect as the rest of him and before you know it there are stars erupting behind your eyes.
Tim groans your name when he feels you start to cum. Loving how you whine and whimper as he works you through it. Sex with you has been amazing and he hadn’t been lying when he said it just kept getting better. When that final thrust comes and you are pressed tight between Tim and the tile, the feeling of his pulsing cock filling you full of sticky cum scratches that very private, very secret dream you have of one day actually having a family with this man, and you shiver a little with personal satisfaction when he groans your name into your skin one last time.
“God.” He pants, knowing that while he’s fucking you isn’t the right time to say those words for the first time. “So good baby.”
Laughing under your breath, you groan happily and let your weight go against the wall just to feel him slump against you. “Hell of a way to start the day,” you tease.
“Should start the day this way every morning.” He laughs along with you. “Don’t you think so?”
“Why do you think I gave you a key?” Twisting around just enough to kiss him, you hum against his lips and sigh happily.
He snorts and kisses you again. “So I should just swing into the house every morning as I go into work?” He asks playfully.
The impulse is there. The invitation right on the tip of your tongue. But it’s too soon. Way too soon. He doesn’t even know how you really feel about him yet — so telling him he could just give up his tiny bachelor pad and move in with you would probably send him running for the hills. “So you can stay over whenever you want,” is how you phrase it instead, hoping that that doesn’t sound overbearing or overeager.
“Don’t tell me that.” He warns you. “Your bed is softer than mine and it has the added bonus of having you in it. You’ll get tired of me.”
“No, I won’t.” The answer is too quick. You know that, but you can’t help it. Slowly turning around, the unfortunate side effect of losing his warmth as his quickly softening cock slips out of you is replaced by the benefit of getting to look him in the eyes. “I—I won’t get sick of you, baby.”
He nudges his nose against yours gently and sighs softly. “I hoped that I would make it a little more romantic than this.” He grumbles quietly,
“A little more romantic than being snuggly after sex?” You ask incredulously. Sure you’re not wrapped up in the blankets right now, but it’s still the same feeling.
“Something more romantic than shower sex to tell you that I love you.” Tim tells you quietly. “I’m not good with words or romance.”
When you deflate in front of him it’s out of pure shock, but you push off from the wall instantly to drag him down for a kiss. “I love you, too,” you promise him in that same hushed voice. “I have for—for months.” Since the night that he braved taking you to an Indian restaurant and got through an entire dinner before you found yourselves in the middle of a music festival in the park and he tried to sneak grabbing a hot dog because he didn’t want to admit to you that he didn’t like the restaurant you said you love. “I love you so much.”
He sighs in relief, pressing his forehead against yours and chuckling with joy. “Good. I was afraid I was rushing things. Or reading too much into the amazing sex we have.”
“I don’t think seven months before the first mention of love is anybody’s definition of rushing, baby.” Placing a kiss over his heart, you can’t help the way you grin from ear to ear when you look up at him. “But you’re right about the sex being really fucking good.”
“Yes, it is.” He agrees with a roguish wink. “Now we just need to clean up.” The functional portion of the shower never takes long. You’re both well established in your habits and are clean again in under ten minutes, leaving you to towel off on the bathroom rug together in no time. “So I was thinking that after my mom’s, I could stay tonight?” He asks, keeping his tone casual. “Since I’ll be dropping you off and I have a full weekend off for once?”
“I’m gonna call up your captain and tell him I have you handcuffed to my bed,” you joke, careful to keep yourself covered even while you’re drying off from the shower. It's a habit, and even if he’s just been inside you that’s no reason to force him to look at your whole blob-like body. “He can’t have you back until Monday. Girlfriend’s orders.”
“Careful now.” He warns with a grin. “I might like be handcuffed to your bed.” He’s never really thought about using his handcuffs, despite the ribald jokes from other detectives, but if you wanted to, he would let you. He trusts you.
“You? Give up control?” Raising one eyebrow at him in the mirror, you scoff playfully. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”
“I thought you like when I’m in control?” He asks with a smirk. “But for you? I’d do it.”
“The perfume I wear is literally called ‘Good Girl’,” you laugh, motioning to the stiletto-shaped bottle on your bathroom shelf. “Of course I like it when you’re in charge.”
“That’s the stuff I like?” He asks, intrigued by the name. He never knows that kind of stuff, just that you smell amazing and he always wants to rip your clothes off when he smells it.
“Yup. The little bottle shaped like a high heel.” It’s your treat to yourself. Designer perfume makes you feel a little less like a fat girl playing dress up when you get ready to see Tim or go out with friends, and a little bit more like a full-grown woman. It’s silly, but if that’s what does it, then you can’t be too mad about it.
“I will have to buy you another bottle of that when you get low.” He hums, making a mental note of it. “It smells incredible on you.”
You won’t quibble with him now over the fact that it’s pricey or anything like that. It’s the gesture that counts, and the fact that you’re getting a little bit closer each and every day. “I don’t know how well it goes with chlorine.” With one little joke, you seize the chance in front of you. “Maybe I’ll abstain from swimming today.” No swimming means no swimsuit, which means no having to be partially undressed in front of his family.
Tim sends you a pout. “Nooo, I’m looking forward to getting into the pool with you.” He huffs, eager to see you in your bathing suit and watch you bask in the sun.
“It’s okay,” you insist, trying to play it off like it doesn’t matter at all. “Maybe next time.”
Tim frowns slightly when he realizes that you are serious and you will not be getting into the pool. “Yeah sure.” He nods. “Next time.” He agrees before he moves over to the sink to brush his teeth and shave.
“Okay.” He’s upset. He’s upset with you, and your mind goes straight to the worst possible scenario which is obviously that he’s going to break up with you over it. A lifetime of trying to deal with low self-esteem and self-worth issues but still you go straight to the worst-case scenario sometimes. “Gonna go get dressed,” you mumble quickly, retreating from the room still wrapped entirely in towels, as fast as your feet will carry you.
Tim sighs, wondering where he went wrong this morning. It had been going so well but Trina had continuously accused him of putting his foot in his mouth or being insensitive. He had been trying so hard with you and yet he can tell you’re upset. He looks in the mirror and shakes his head. “Don’t fuck this up.” He orders himself with a groan.
The warm Southern climate means swimming happens all the time, but it’s still October so you put on a light cardigan with your sundress and sandals and try to keep yourself from crying and making your eyes red before you leave the house. The last thing you need is to show up to meet his kids and his mother with bloodshot eyes. “Don’t fuck this up,” you chastise yourself, opening the dresser drawer that holds your one swimsuit just to stare at it for a minute in loathing.
“Baby?” Tim had retreated downstairs once he had dressed, sure that you needed some time to yourself. “Are you ready?” Are you still coming?
“Yeah! One second!” Out of some kind of masochistic instinct, you grab your bathing suit and cram it into your tote bag when you snag it off your dresser and rush downstairs. Clothes, jewelry, make up, all of it is in place to try to make the most positive first impression possible. “Sorry, I—” You immediately focus on getting the food packed up into a reusable shopping bag. “I almost forgot to put on perfume. Stupid, right? After we just were talking about it?”
“That’s okay.” Tim approaches you slowly from behind and he gently takes hold of your waist. “You still smell great even without it.” He promises, leaning in and kissing your shoulder. Offering a silent apology.
“Do I look okay?” It’s silly to be worried. You’re a grown woman and he’s a grown man. But you’re terrified and determined not to fuck up again today.
“You look stunning.” He promises you. “If I hadn’t promised my mother that we would be there, I would keep you here and take you back upstairs to show you how pretty you look.”
“Okay.” Nodding twice, your head hangs between your shoulders for a second before you force yourself to straighten up and take the bag full of food from the counter. “Ready when you are.”
“Are you sure you want to go?” He asks, concerned that he is pushing too fast. It seems like you’re forcing yourself to go.
“Of course I’m sure.” The brightness in your voice isn’t entirely forced. You do want to go, you’re just terrified and self-conscious. And from the look on his face, he knows something is wrong. “I’m just—” Your eyes drop and so do your shoulders. “I’m worried what they’ll think of me, that’s all.”
“Baby.” He shakes his head and sighs softly, happy that he can reassure you. “They are going to love you.” He promises. “Probably love you more than me.”
“They loved Trina.” You’ve seen plenty of his pictures of his ex-wife. Their wedding pictures, especially, and even how skinny she managed to get back to being after having their twins. She’s stunning, and successful, and smart. And you’re a dumpy little nobody who sits behind a desk and definitely never goes to the gym. “I’m not like her. At all.”
“That’s a good thing.” He promises, chuckling at how ridiculous it would be to date someone like his ex.
You let out a half-laugh, huffing at yourself, and shake your head slightly. It sounds so stupid to say it out loud, but here you are in the middle of your kitchen about to break apart at the seams over a first meeting. “She—she’s prettier than me.” In every sense, in your opinion. But especially, she’s skinnier.
Tim frowns and vehemently shakes his head. “That is not true.” He argues. “And it doesn’t matter how pretty she is, she is my ex-wife.” He reminds you. “She left me. Took my kids from me.”
“Right.” Blinking back the impending tears that will ruin your makeup and the mood, you nod your head and take a steadying, if shaky, breath. “Right. I know that. I’m sorry. I’m just—I’m being stupid.”
“You aren’t being stupid.” He huffs, hating how you belittle yourself. You are kind and generous to everyone but yourself. “It is just nerves, right? This is a big step and I’m sure I’ll be shitting myself when I meet your folks.”
“It’s nerves.” You agree, nodding again and resisting the urge to press on your closed eyes to stop the water behind them. It would smudge the eye makeup you put on so carefully. All waterproof, ironically. But not touched-with-hands proof. “I just don’t—” It is stupid, and a part of you knows that. The part that pays fucking attention in therapy every other week. “I don’t want you to finally realize you’ve been dating a cow if I put on my swimsuit,” you admit quietly.
“A cow?” He growls the comment in surprise, rearing back and wondering where the hell that idea came from. “Who the fuck called you a cow?” He demands, furious and ready to punch someone if they’ve insulted you like that.
“Nobody had to.” Your sister. Your grade school bully. The woman at the department store. A girl at camp. A boy you had a crush on in high school. Your parents. Nobody. Everybody. “I’m just a little anxious. It’s fine. I just won’t have any caffeine the rest of the day and it won’t get worse. Please don’t be upset?”
Tim shakes his head and he reaches up to cup your cheeks. “Baby, put your bag down.” He orders you softly. He doesn’t want to leave this house until he’s truly talked to you, and if that means being late, then he will be late. “Please?”
It only takes a moment of silence between you before you swallow your protest and set your purse and the bag of food back on the counter. This is it. He’s going to dump you for being an idiot. At least you got to tell him you love him before that happened, right?
He guides you over to the chair and sits you down, kneeling in front of it and holding onto your hands. “Baby, I don’t know why you are so hard on yourself.” He starts softly. “But I want you to know how I see you.” He knows self-image is just that, your image of your own self, he can’t change your mind for you. “I see you right now, and you are gorgeous.” He nods, smiling as he looks at you. “Generous, pillowy curves that make my mouth water and my cock ache.” Licking his lips, he continues. “I love the way you feel, the way you taste. I love your heart, your kindness. Your thoughtfulness. Your patience.” He stresses. “You are beautiful, inside and out and I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You say cow, I say stunning, voluptuous goddess that I love.”
“I know that the voice in my head that says these things is intentionally hurting me.” Holding onto his hands like a lifeline, you end up squeezing his fingers in yours. “I’ve been in therapy for enough years to know that. It’s a skewed perspective. But there really are sometimes that I cannot shut it off. It’s like a train going off the tracks,” you explain, hoping he can follow the line of what you’re saying. “I can see the disaster ten feet ahead of me, but it’s too late to stop it. I know I’m going to go headfirst into the worst kind of hating myself, but I can’t stop it from happening.”
“I know what you mean.” He does. He’s seen the department shrink enough times to understand that. It’s like when he blames himself for circumstances beyond his control. “I’m never going to tell you that you are stupid, or dumb for thinking that way.” He promises you. “But I am going to disagree with you, tell you that you are wrong. Because there isn’t one thing about you that I would change.”
"Really?" There's a second where you're too afraid to look up at him, but you can feel Tim's eyes on you and so you raise your head in some kind of silent moment of obedience and it makes you decide to crack a smile and go for a joke. "Not even my broken brain?"
“Not even that.” He smiles at you. “Because I love you, all of you. The good and the negative.” He squeezes your hands gently, “Love you, baby.”
"I love you, too." You lean over to kiss him, half in disbelief that he didn't ask for his key back and walk out your door. "Thank you. For...for listening. And not thinking I'm crazy for overreacting."
He chuckles and leans down to kiss your hand. “Baby, I think you are crazy for putting up with me, not for how you feel.”
"You're amazing, and it's never putting up with you. I love spending time with you." The sigh that comes out of you is deep and long, but you feel better. The weight on your shoulders has lifted, if only for now, and you manage an honest smile. "We should get going, baby. You don't get to see the twins that often and I don't want you to miss a minute of it today."
“Okay.” He waits another moment, searching your eyes and then he pats your thigh gently. “Let’s go. I can quickly change.”
It's a fast enough trip to stop by his apartment on your way to his mother's house, and once he's swapped his work clothes for a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, he slides back into the car beside you and you're off to the races again. At this rate you'll be no more than five minutes late, and that is nothing at all.
Driving the familiar route home, he points out places he used to go as a child and then a teenager. Sharing glimpses into his life. Holding his hand in yours as he pulls up to the two-story house that he had been raised in. “I'm right here with you.” He promises, kissing your hand again. “And they will love you.”
"As long as you love me, I'm okay." That's the pep talk you were giving yourself on the way over, and you're feeling a little more settled after the glimpses into his past. You didn't grow up around here so you can't do any such tour for yourself, but it's nice to see a slightly different side of the town you've lived in for years.
“Are you ready?” He asks after he cuts the engine, turning towards you slightly. “Or do you need a minute?”
"Let's do it." If you sit in the car and procrastinate you'll only give the negative thoughts time to come back, so you lean over to kiss him and buck yourself up. "I'm good, baby. I promise."
“You are always good.” He tells you with a wink before he climbs out of the car and hustles around to open your door for you. Taking the dishes you had protected on the way over so you can get out.
There is plenty of noise coming from the backyard of the beautiful little brick house, and the sound of splashing is already obvious along with music playing and people chatting at various volumes. This is definitely a family party, and it seems like the family is already here.
"Uncle Tim!" The call comes up from the pool first, as his nephew catches sight of him first and waves. "Holy shit! Y'all, Uncle Tim actually left his desk!" The teenager teases with a cackling laugh.
“Yeah, yeah.” Tim rolls his eyes in good fun as he waves back. His hand immediately goes back to the small of your back and he slowly guides you forward. “Come on baby, we’ll put up the food inside and then come back out.”
"Holy shit Uncle Tim brought a girl!" A teenage girl's voice calls after you, with as much excitement as shock, and you're in the middle of a fit of giggles when he opens the sliding door to let you into the kitchen from the back porch. "So that's your nephew and niece, huh?" You snort, smothering the sound with one hand even as you try to stop laughing.
“Brats.” He huffs, his sour look simply for show. “You would think I was a ball-less hermit.” He snorts, setting the travel bag for your dishes down and then opens the fridge to see if there’s room.
"Language." His mother's warning tone is playful from around the corner, but she still means it. Foul language stays outside, it doesn't come inside her house. "Timothy Alan, don't make me send you outside if you're going to be vulgar."
“Me?” He points at himself as he exclaims. “They are being vulgar. And I’m the one in trouble?” His question doesn’t stop him from immediately moving around the corner to engulf his mother in a hug. “Hey Ma.” He kisses her cheek and urges her to come into the kitchen. “I brought my girlfriend.”
"They're outside and I can't hear it," his mother teases, blissfully aware of her arbitrary rules and the fact that nobody is actually in any trouble whatsoever. "Honey." She reaches out both hands to you after giving Tim a hug. "He's been hiding you from me knowing I'm gonna steal you away to have a cooking friend again. It is so good to meet you, sweetheart."
"It's really nice to meet you too, Mrs. Rockford." Even as she envelopes you in the same tight hug that Tim got, you look over her shoulder to shoot Tim a surprised expression.
Suzanne Rockford is far from a petite woman. She is sturdy, hearty. Obviously heavier and he has never told you that, honestly believing that it didn’t matter, but now he wonders if he should have. Maybe you would have been less self-conscious if you had known. He shoots you a smile and a half shrug. “Where’s Vanessa?” He asks, looking around for his sister.
"Upstairs, looking for god knows what in the attic? Unless she’s found it already, and then who knows." Suzanne waves one hand and pays that no mind. "Did Tim offer you a drink yet honey?" She asks you, giving you her absolute full attention. "We've got a whole bar out on the back porch, and the fridge under the car port has beer and soda. But I keep the wine in here." Apparently that is a conspiratorial secret, because she waggles her eyebrows at you. "Whatever you want, I'll grab you a cup."
"I'll grab a soda when we go back out," you promise her, not wanting to start drinking too early in the day. According to Tim, his mother's parties are a strictly all-day affair.
“Ma, she brought an apple crisp and a noodle dish. Vegan, for Zara to enjoy.” He tells her, beaming proudly. “Where do you want me to put them?”
"In the fridge, honey. There's room on the bottom shelf." She looks just as proud as he does, and she reaches out to squeeze your hand. "She's doing well with it, you know," she nods authoritatively. "Talked to her doctor about making sure she gets protein and all her vitamins. Doing some really creative cooking, that one. Once she's got her mind set on something, that's it. It's do or die." Suzanne smirks. "Gets that from her Dad."
“I tried some of that vegan cheese.” Tim tells his mom, shuddering slightly. “The sliced stuff is shit, but the shredded stuff actually melts pretty good.”
“What matters is that you tried.” Suzanne nods approvingly. “Have you two gotten to say hi yet?”
“Not yet, we wanted to get the food put up.” He explains, coming back over to kiss his mom’s cheek again. “I’m looking forward to seeing them. Texting when we get a chance sucks.”
“Go introduce everybody,” she encourages, shooting a smile your way before shooing him off. “There’s things to snack on out there already. Lunch in an hour, or whenever Ricky gets that grill going.”
“Yes ma’am.” He chuckles, knowing that Ricky will fight with the grill for at least ten minutes. He moves over to you and takes your hand. “Let’s go see the kids, baby.”
You let him usher you back out into the bright, late morning sun, and for the first time you get a good look at the backyard in its entirety. There are a lot of people here — more than a dozen for sure — and you can hear another car honk as it pulls up in front of the house. The mood is pure happiness and even a tinge of nostalgia, as people greet each other who haven’t seen each other in ages. The air of absolutely everything is positive, and you take a deep breath to bring some of that into you as well.
Tim sees the first one that he wants to introduce you to. “Vanessa!” He half cups his mouth with one hand to shout his sister’s name. “Get your ass over here!”
"Hi to you, too!" His younger sister rolls her eyes and kisses the woman she was talking to on the cheek before hustling across the lawn. She has a beer in her hand and sunglasses on top of her curls, and she has the same stout and strong figure as their mother but with a little bit more grace in her movements.
He lets go of your hand only so he can wrap his arms around his sister and hug her tight. Making her squeal when he squeezes too tight. “How have you been? It’s been a month or so.”
“Yeah, you’ve been busy.” She raises both her eyebrows at you, waggling them for comedic effect, and then promptly nudges her brother away so she can shake your outstretched hand.
“Sorry if I’ve kept him away from you,” you apologize, not ever wanting her to think that you were intentionally keeping Tim away from his family.
“Are you kidding me?” She laughs, giving your hand a squeeze. “It’s fantastic. I’ve barely seen him sulk in months.”
“I don’t sulk.” His lips immediately form a pout as he glares at his sister. “I was gonna be happy to introduce you to my girlfriend, now you can fuck off.” Even though he says that, he immediately tells her your name before pointing at her. “This is Vanessa, the pain in my ass all my childhood.”
"It's really nice to meet you." He's told you a lot about his sister and you already knew she was a ball buster, but meeting her now feels like a relief. They're close and it's fun to see Tim relaxed like this with his family. "Believe it or not he's actually only told me great things about you."
“Oh, I’m sure.” Her tone is sarcastic and she’s rolling her eyes, but her grin gives her away as she transfers her attention from her brother to you. “I’m a hugger.” She warns you before she pulls you in for a less formal greeting than a handshake.
"It's okay, I am too." It's a far sweeter welcome than you expected to get, both from his mom and his sister, and you let yourself squeeze her back just for a second before letting go. "I'm just really excited to meet everyone."
“I was so excited that Tim told Mom he was bringing you.” She tells you with a smirk at her brother. “It’s been forever since he’s introduced us to someone, and she who shall not be named isn’t exactly ‘fun’.” She confides.
"Oh?" Having been under the impression that his family had liked his ex while they were together, you tilt your head curiously. "Well, uh...we figured it was time," you offer with a shrug. "It's been more than a few months, ya know? And...and things have been really good. Tim is just—" You glance back at him and end up grinning. "He's really amazing."
“He’s a good guy.” As much shit as she gives him, she would be the first to defend her brother and she knows he is much the same way. Siblings in the sense that she can tease him but she’ll kick anyone else’s ass who does. “And he talks about you a lot, so I think he likes you.”
"You talk about me?" Yes, sure, he told you he loves you less than two hours ago, but you still soften in surprise hearing that.
“Oh he doesn’t shut up about you.” She insists, smirking wickedly at Tim who looks very interested in the top of his foot in his flip flops. “Asking if he should take you here, talking about your job. I feel like I know you.” She pats your arm. “He told me he didn’t want to fuck this up.”
"Did he tell you about the fundraiser he let me drag him to?" He's blushing and it's the cutest thing you've ever seen, so if you maybe pick out something to talk about that will make his cheeks turn an even deeper shade of red then that's entirely on purpose.
“Nooooooo.” Vanessa lights up and is nearly about to bust for information. “My brother? At a fundraiser?” She sounds positively scandalized, as if she could never imagine such a thing.
"The nonprofit I work for has dinner dances and black-tie events during the year." You explain, feeling Tim shift self-consciously next to you in the grass even though he's smiling. "He's actually been to two of them now."
“You got my brother to wear something other than those horrible dress pants and button ups?” She gasps. “I swear the ties were from Christmas when the twins were four.”
“We rented him a tuxedo for one event.” The admission brings a dramatic sigh from Tim but you lean over to put your arm around his waist and smile broadly. “You look good no matter what, honey.” Did you climb him like a tree that night because he looked extra good in the tux? Absolutely. But he still looks delicious in his t-shirt and shorts.
“I should just buy one.” Tim grumbles. He hadn’t liked wearing it, although realistically, it wasn’t much different from a regular suit. And you had enjoyed him in it. The sex had been extremely hot once he had gotten you back to your place. “Since you want me to go to those things.”
Vanessa’s eyebrows raise at the offer, and she smirks mercilessly. Hearing her big brother make any kind of comment that trends toward commitment is practically worth celebrating. “Ya know,” She giggles evilly and takes a sip of her beer. “I hear that’s even the kind of shit guys get married in.”
Tim nearly chokes in his own tongue, wishing he had decided to take the crime scene call that had come over the radio on the way here. Even a blood bath would have been preferable to the way his sister is probing for information. He just said he loves you, if he starts talking about marriage, you might think he’s gone nuts.
“Oookay, maybe let’s not pick a topic that makes him want to implode?” You try to joke, squeezing his arm gently, and stifle a laugh. That’s exactly the kind of thing you would expect from a little sister but you don’t want Tim to think you’re crazy the way the idea may or may not have already crossed your mind in daydreams from time to time.
“Jesus, Ness.” Tim huffs. “First time you meet her and you’re picking out our wedding colors?” He rolls his eyes. “Booked the church already?”
“Mom did.” Vanessa laughs, and you can’t quite tell if she’s kidding or not as she blows Tim a kiss and scampers off to keep her husband from blowing the place up while he’s on the grill.
“Oh dear God.” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I’ll—I’ll make sure Ma didn’t actually reserve the church.”
“Baby, baby—” You grab both of his hands and let a laugh burst through as you pull him closer. “She’s teasing. It’s okay. I’m sure your mom didn’t do anything like that and even if she did, who cares? It’s a funny story we’ll tell someone in the future.” Honestly? It makes you pretty fucking comfortable here knowing that his family is full of ball busters with good senses of humor. And that they’re okay enough with you to include you in those jokes.
“I wouldn’t put it past her.” He grumbles, although he’s leaning in to kiss your lips.
“Then it’s a really funny story we tell later on.” You promise him, happily taking that kiss that he offers you so easily. “I like that your sister is comfortable enough with me to tease.”
“They like you.” He points out with a grin. “Just like I told you they would.” He catches sight of the twins and lights up. “Come on, there they are.”
“This is going on the internet!” Tim’s twin girls are pulling out their phones as soon as they see their father, dramatically button smashing and pointing the devices at the two of you. “Red alert! Dad’s girlfriend is real! This is not a drill!”
“Hey!” Tim lunges forward, snatching for their phones playfully. “Don’t make me throw you in the pool!”
“You can’t.” They’re fraternal twins, and the taller one - Zara - reaches out to hug her dad first. “Your back couldn’t handle it if you tried.”
“I’d try.” He immediately wraps his arms around his firstborn daughter and hugs her tight to his chest. “Hey bug, how have you been?” He asks, kissing her head.
“I got a term paper kicking my ass, but I’m doing okay.” Zara shrugs. Her studies mean the world to her, next to her family, but she tries to stay realistic and avoid overreacting when school is difficult.
“She’s doing amazing, it’s annoying.” The slightly shorter of the twins has lighter hair and looks a bit more like their mother, but that hasn’t stopped Joey from growing up the opposite of Trina; well-adjusted and affectionate. “We need to ask you a favor, though,” she looks at both you and Tim seriously.
“What’s up?” Tim immediately frowns, sure that there is something wrong, something he needs to fix.
“We need you to throw Thanksgiving this year.” Both girls insist in unison, a habit leftover from childhood, before Joey continues to explain. “Gran said she wasn’t up to hosting on her own this year so Mom is trying to make us go to Derek’s parents’ house. But if we tell her you’re throwing Thanksgiving with your girlfriend we’ll be off the hook.” The idea that their grandmother doesn’t want to host anymore has been a bummer for everyone, but an even bigger bummer would be having to deal with their second step-dad’s snooty family.
“I—" he looks helpless towards you, hating that you’ve been put on the spot like this. Holidays haven’t even been discussed and he doesn’t know what you usually do. “Girls, look, even if—”
“No problem.” You cut in, knowing you might be overstepping a tiny bit but for the first favor you might be able to grant his kids, you’ll take that chance. “Even if your Dad gets tied up on a case, my house is big enough and I’m a pretty decent cook.” You do look to Zara though, knowing she can’t be too fond of the main event on Thanksgiving. “We’ll pick out some vegan things together, too.”
His oldest daughter immediately perks up at that idea. “Really?” She asks excitedly. “You wouldn’t mind? I know there’s like, a lot of negativity about vegans, some of them are real assholes.” She tells you. “But I just want to, you know, live pure. But I don’t blame people for eating meat, or if they can’t make me something.”
“I made a couple of things for today that are vegan, it’s really not a problem.” Her enthusiasm and her surprise at being accommodated just makes you want to reach out and hug her, but you look to her father instead. “Is this okay with you, hun? I mean my family’s Thanksgiving is clear across the country and it would be nice to…ya know…do something at home. Instead of being a pity invite at a coworker’s house.”
“What? Yeah.” He nods eagerly, both happy that the girls will be there and that you will be too. “Of course.” He looks over at the girls. “This year won’t be pizza because the turkey’s frozen.” He chuckles.
“Thank you.” Joey is the first to break the ice, reaching out to squeeze both of your shoulders. “Don’t get the wrong impression or anything, our Mom is great at some things, but hosting holidays is not one of them. Which is why it went to her mom for so long, and then whatever guy she’s married to, and—”
Zara practically elbows her sister in the ribs and smiles politely. “This is Joey,” she laughs, waving a hand at her sister. “She talks a lot when she’s nervous.”
“It’s okay.” With a wave of your own hand, you are offering both girls hugs if they want them. “I’m nervous, too. Your Dad loves the hell out of you girls and I’ve been really looking forward to meeting you.”
Zara and Joey both hug you, smiling happily while Tim looks on. He’s relieved that you seem to like the girls. And while it might be unusual that he’s just now introducing you to his twenty-year-old twins, he hadn’t wanted to force things too early. They had resented Derek’s intrusion into their lives when their mom had immediately started dating him, and he hadn’t wanted to make the same mistakes.
Getting to know Tim’s girls is fantastic. They’re good kids, smart as hell, and enthusiastic about their dad being happy again. So enthusiastic, in fact, that it’s easily an hour later when lunch is being announced that you manage to make your way back to his side after being stolen away. You’re at the food table with Zara while she scoops out a plate of your vegan peanut noodles when you give her a squeeze and tell her you’re going to go grab something to eat — and immediately drift away to Tim’s side as he brings over a plate of burgers and hot dogs to the other end of the table.
“Well hey there stranger,” you laugh, slipping one arm around his waist and sighing in relief at having the solid, comforting bulk of him back again.
“Hey.” He grins at you as he sets down the plate. “Sorry, had to rescue the day.” His brother-in-law had actually caught the grill on fire because he hadn’t cleaned it. Tim had taken over and been in charge of the food.
“My hero.” The grin on your face speaks volumes. “Some damn good kids you’ve got there, Rockford. They kept me well entertained, and we’ve got a whole menu worked out for Thanksgiving already.”
“Oh really?” He chuckles. “Has Zara convinced you to make me fry a Tofurkey?” He asks, knowing she might have tried.
“We’re going to do a dish of roasted cauliflower, mushrooms, and butternut squash to add to the table. She got excited about trying out a spice mix in them and said she’d love it for her main dish.” Hell, it sounded good to you as a meat eater, it didn’t surprise you that it sounded good to a vegan. “And she gave me some tips on using alternative milks and vegan butter in recipes so that more of the traditional dishes could be vegan friendly.” Honestly? None of it sounded difficult, and you’re thrilled to be able to do something for his kids. “No exaggeration. I’m looking forward to it.”
“That’s good.” The fact that you are accommodating his daughter is something that makes him fall a little more in love with you. Trina had complained bitterly when Zara had announced becoming vegan.
“I know you were worried when it came out of nowhere, but you don’t need to be.” In fact, after actually getting here and meeting everyone, you’re feeling more relaxed than you had thought possible. “And I—I just wanted to apologize for earlier,” you admit quietly. “Now that I know how nice everyone is, it…how I acted feels even more ridiculous.”
“So you don’t think that I’m going to realize anything more than I’m going home with a hot chick tonight?” He asks, leaning in and nudging his nose against yours.
"As long as you think so, that's all that matters." You don't have to see it, you remind yourself, as long as he does. What had your therapist said to you ages ago? 'You're just not your own type'.
“I absolutely think so.” He winks and leans back to leer at you. “Especially when you look that pretty in your sundress.”
"Oh yeah?" That look is all too familiar to you, and you bite back a grin. It's the same appraising look he had given you at the fundraiser before stealing you away from the party and back to his apartment, which was much closer to the venue than your house.
“Very pretty.” Tim grunts, moving behind you and pressing up against you at the table. “Good enough to eat.”
"Is that a promise?" He has that hungry look in his eyes that you can never resist and you try to school your expression into something innocent.
“Ah ah ahaaaaaa.” Vanessa tuts as she picks up a plate. “Not around the food.”
"Busted," you smirk, pulling Tim away from the table and heading toward the house as subtly as possible.
“You wanna?” Tim groans happily, his shuffled steps quickening behind you. He has zero qualms with having sex in this house, but he had expected you to demure.
“I always want you.” You murmur, practically rolling your eyes at him as you disappear into the house together. “Like absolutely always. It’s a constant state of existence, baby.”
“Yeah?” It surprises him how much you want him. Delights him, but surprises him. He watches you walk towards the stairs. “Last room on the left, baby.”
The upstairs hallway is littered with family photos of many generations, and you quickly look through them as you walk, until one makes you stop dead and “Aww!” out loud. Elementary age Tim in a little policeman’s uniform shares a double frame with a photo of the same man fifteen or twenty years later on the day he graduated from the Police Academy. “This might be the cutest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen,” you grin, pointing to the photos.
“Always knew I wanted to be a cop.” He feels his face burn and he shuffles slightly as he watches you examine the photos. “A little different now, don’t wear the uniform.”
“Nah, you don’t.” You grin up at him and hook your finger in his t-shirt to bring him down for a kiss. “I like the shoulder holster better anyway. Much sexier.”
“Sexier, huh?” He grins against your lips and leans in to press you against the wall. “Want me to wear it for you one day?”
“Maybe.” Your lips quirk against his in a way that absolutely means yes, and your hands wander up under his t-shirt to spread out over his muscles back. “Kinda curious how you would feel about interrogating me, actually…”
“Really?” He pulls back and arches a brow at you. “You want that? Maybe those handcuffs we were talking about? Giving you a pat down?”
The way you muffle a soft groan and briefly close your eyes should be plenty enough of a giveaway. “If I wasn’t wet before I certainly am now,” you grumble, enjoying the fantasy playing yet again in your mind.
“You concealing a weapon?” He asks gruffly, even though he is smiling. He won’t really roleplay with you right now, but you seem to love the idea.
“Maybe…” You can’t help but giggle, taking his hand that isn’t braced on the wall above your head and guiding it under the skirt of your sundress. “Guess you’re gonna have to find out.”
All he can feel is generous, warm flesh. Making him groan and his cock twitches against your hip. “When did you take your panties off?”
“I snuck inside about ten minutes ago.” Your soft little grin turns wicked. “I think I have a domesticity kink, cause I was enjoying watching you at the grill.”
“I’ll grill every night if you stop wearing panties.” He promises with a groan. “My sexy girl.”
“You wanna add another notch to that bedpost, baby?” The two of you are about three feet from the door to his childhood room and it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to get caught fucking in the hallway. Just for basic courtesy’s sake.
“Only notch that counts.” He promises, pulling away from you to drag you into the bedroom.
______
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Like Betta Fish Do Part 28
wc: 3020, masterpost
“I get why you insisted on picking me up,” she said as she watched the black sedan part the sea of reporters outside of Wayne Manor. Her hand made a half aborted motion, like she wanted to fidget with with her hair despite the red being cropped close to her scalp in a pixie cut.
The haircut would be a new thing, or new enough that in stress old habits were still there. Perhaps something she did when moving into her doctorate. A new hair cut to go with a new stage of life. She went for an extreme though, maybe trying to shed a metaphorical weight or maybe a bob would have been too much like her mother’s hair. Maybe both.
Dick gave his head a little shake and tried to stuff the parts of himself that couldn’t help be analyze someone away.
It was worse with the stress of it all.
“I know, right? They’ve been crazy,” Dick said with a laugh.
“You don’t have to do that, you know.”
Dick blinked. “Do what?”
“Pretend everything is okay. You don’t have to do what with me. After all, we’re both big siblings, aren’t we?” Her own, wry smile didn’t reach her aquamarine eyes.
Dick wanted to protest and for a moment he almost did. Then Dick just sighed and let himself slump into his seat. “That obvious?”
“No, I just know what it’s like,” Jazz said.
“I shouldn’t be putting this on you though, not with what happened to Danny—”
She held up manicured hand. “Don’t. Suffering isn’t a competition. Besides, I got to learn this happened knowing that Danny was already safe and being taken care of. I didn’t have to think he was dead like you all did. I also didn’t have to learn about all the rest of it. It’s hard, isn’t it?”
“Knowing my little brother is still dead?” Dick gave a bitter bark of a laugh. “Yeah, it’s hard.”
“Half dead,” Jazz said with a smile that was all too understanding. “That half part is important to them. They’re half dead. They’re half alive. They aren’t the little brothers we had before and that’s hard. It’s okay for that to be hard.”
Dick rubbed at his face. “It shouldn’t change anything.”
“But it does.”
“It does.”
“That’s alright,” Jazz soothed. “It’s a big fact, of course it’s going to change things. As long as he’s still your little brother and you love him then the rest won’t matter so much, not with some time.”
The car came to a stop in the garage. Dick let himself take a deep breath as the door rolled closed. It was always about needing time, but at least they still had it.
“Well, Miss Nightingale, shall we go inside?”
“Thank you, Mister Grayson,” she said and took his offered hand to get out of the car. “And thank you again for the ride, Alfred. Picking me up from WE was the right move.”
“And you needn’t worry about your car, it will be safe in the parking garage,” Alfred assured her.
She covered an amused snort with her hand. “You saw my car, no one is going to try and steal that old thing.”
Alfred held the door to the house open. “Perhaps slightly more worried about the press hoping to find something.”
“Would they really break into my car?”
“They would,” Tim said from where he was standing inside the door, typing away on a tablet. “Gotham’s lost prince shows up at a gala with his mystery boyfriend and then proceeds to press the kill button for said boyfriend? The press is going insane for it. If it was just Gotham’s press it would be one thing, but it’s broken containment and fast. Have you said anything to any reporters? Even any non statements? Is there anything that the might dig up on you, other than your parents, that we need to know about?”
“Jazz, this is Tim. We’re sorry about him,” Dick said with a strained smile. It only got worse when he took in Tim and the heavy bags under Tim’s eyes. “Tim, when was the last time you slept?”
Tim waved the question away. “I had a power nap after breakfast.”
“What Master Timothy means is that he fell asleep at the table mid-meal,” Alfred chastised as he continue into the manor proper.
“Still counts,” Tim muttered. Finally he looked up from his tablet to blink listlessly at them. “Well?”
“Tim,” Dick chastised.
“No, it’s fine,” Jazz said with a patient smile of someone used to behavior like this. “It really is… everywhere. I haven’t said anything to any press other than ‘no statement’ and I can’t think of anything. Well, I mean, I have a girlfriend but if they have an issue with her they already have Danny and Jason to rage over. How is Danny handling it all?”
“Tim has blocked all social media from the manor. You need a password to get through it and I don’t think they’ve been bored enough to try and crack it yet,” Dick said.
Jazz looked thoughtful. “That’s probably best. I’m alright with you asking more questions, but can I see Danny first, please?”
Tim blinked as if startled by the thought. “Yes, right, of course. They’re probably still in the library, that’s where I saw them last.”
“That was yesterday,” Dick pointed out.
“Oh, well,” Tim tilted his head but didn’t stop talking. “I bet I’m still right.”
Dick just sighed and exchanged a look with Jazz. Little brothers.
-
Jazz crouched down in front of the couch and reached out to run her fingers through Danny’s hair.
“Danny.”
“Nn.”
The corner of her mouth ticked up. “Danny.”
“’ive m’er min, Jazz,” he mumbled sleepily.
“If you don’t get up, I’m calling Cujo.”
“I’m up, I’m up!” Danny explained and jolted awake before he was left just blinking confessedly at the room. When the rest of it snapped together for him he smiled brightly. “Jazz!”
“Danny!”
“Your hair looks even better in person!” Danny said, reaching out to ruffle the short locks.
“I don’t care if you’re on your deathbed Danny, I will bite you.”
Danny sighed dramatically as he sat up properly. “I never get to die on a bed. At least this time I was sitting.”
Jazz leaned forward and wrapped Danny up into a crushing looking hug. “Oh Danny, what am I going to do with you?”
“Still don’t have an answer for you there, Jazz,” Danny said. He was practically curled around Jazz and stayed that way as she shifted to sit with him on the couch.
She looked up at Jason who was still standing awkwardly by the couch where he had greeted her. “You can sit. I don’t bite.”
Jason snorted. “You just threatened to bite Danny. I don’t believe you.”
“Her bites aren’t bad,” Danny said with a yawn. “But her aim is horrible. And don’t let her have a baseball bat. She’s lethal with one of those.”
The almost fanged way that Jazz smile made that easy to believe.
“I approve of you, Nightingale,” Damian said with a decisive nod from the armchair he was occupying.
“What are you going to do now that there are two Nightingales?” Tim asked, far too innocently.
Damian scowled, his whole face scrunched up before he gave a sharp shrug. “I am confident that the Nightingales are intelligent enough to know which one I am referring to.”
Jason shook his head at the easy way the brat seemed to accept Jazz and settled on the far side of the couch from her, leaving Dick and Tim to take the two seater.
“You didn’t have to come all this way, Jazz,” Danny said, though his words were at odds with how thoroughly he had relaxed into her side.
Jazz rolled her eyes. “You were electrocute Danny, again. Of course I was going to come see you. Even if classes were in session, you’re more important than them.”
“Hum, fine,” Danny said with a huff of air. Somehow he settled in even further to his sister’s side. “Sam, Val, and Tucker send their love. With all the crazy press I told them to stay away so not to get caught up in this.”
“It is something for sure,” Jazz agreed. “How are you doing?”
“I’m tired and tired of being tired, it sucks. Oh, I’ve got more Lichtenberg scars!” Danny stuck his legs up in the air. His fuzzy, Nightwing patterned pants slid down his legs enough to show the scarring that wrapped around his ankles. The marks were still raised and red. Jason caught the legs as they dropped and settled them into his lap. He couldn’t help but run his thumb over the mark as soft reassurance that Danny was there and alive despite it all. “Not sure if these will stick around since they’re not ghostly.”
“You need to stop collecting them. No more getting electrocuted, big sister’s order.”
“Second that on boyfriend’s orders,” Jason said.
“Thirding that from the in-laws,” Dick said. In-laws? “Aw look at that, Jaybird is blushing.”
Jason pulled a throw pillow out from behind him and lobbed it at Dick. “Shut it.”
Dick easily caught the pillow with a laugh. “Jason and Danny, kissing in a tree—”
“Grayson, try to not be an embarrassment,” Damian said with a sigh.
“What? Jason and Danny could totally kiss in a tree. Danny can fly! I mean, not that we’ve seen it yet but he says he can,” Dick said.
“Oh he can. Nothing like walking into your little brother’s room to find him sitting on the ceiling,” Jazz said. “It was an interesting childhood.”
“It makes hanging things easy too,” Jason teased.
Danny sighed dramatically. “I knew you were just into me to be your glorified ladder.”
“That’s just because he wants to climb you,” Tim muttered absently.
Jason held up his hands for Dick to throw the pillow back to him and then lobbed it at Tim. It smacked Tim square in the face, making his little brother’s shoulders slump as it landed on his tablet.
“Really?”
“Don’t be crude,” Jason said.
Tim glared at Jason from under his bangs. The kid’s hair was getting long again. “Oh that’s rich coming from the Red Hood.”
“Red Hood?” Jazz’s voice cracked slightly.
Jason buried his face in his hands with a groan.
“Oh, shit, did she now know? I thought she knew!”
The whole couch shifted as Danny pulled himself up by Jason’s shirt so that he could cuddle him. “It’s okay, I love my hero.”
“Vigilante,” Jason mumbled.
“Daniel John Nightingale!” Jazz screeched. “Tell me you’re not doing vigilante stuff again!”
“Ooooooh full named!” Dick heckled.
“I am not doing vigilante stuff again,” Danny said.
“He’s really not,” Jason promised as he shifted Danny around to be more comfortable. “That’s just family business. I wouldn’t ask him to get involved.”
“Family…,” Jazz said. Jason watched her eyes dart from Danny to Jason to the rest of them. “Ancients you’re all, what would you call it? Various Batmen?”
“Usually we just go with Bats,” Tim said with a little shrug. “Especially since we’re not all, or only, men.”
“Okay, Bats,” Jazz said with a sigh. “Really, Danny?”
Danny shrugged, completely unrepentant by the way he smiled. “I didn’t know! I didn’t even know Jason was a Wayne until just before we started dating. That one is maybe on me though, I’m bad with faces.”
“You always have been,” Jazz said. “Really though, no hero stuff?”
“None. I’m focused on school. Well, and Jason. Dates are very nice, but mostly I’m focused on school. You can’t blame me for enjoying dates too!” Danny said.
Jazz laughed and shook her head. “No, I can’t. I’m glad you’re enjoying dates. Just try to stay out of the business, okay? I want you to be able to just enjoy your life. You have enough obligations waiting for you when you’re dead.”
“Do we have to work when we’re dead?” Tim asked desperately. “Please tell me we don’t have to work when we’re dead. That’s when I was planning to sleep.”
“No, Tim,” Jazz said gently. “Most people don’t work when they’re dead. Danny’s just an idiot—”
“Hey!”
“—who became the Ghost King without realizing what he was doing. His forever job starts when he dies.”
“Wait wait wait,” Dick spread his hands. “Danny is royalty?”
“Mhum.”
“Oh my god,” Dick said with a gleeful smile that Jason didn’t trust one bit. “Does that make Jason a prince? Queen? Does it feel like you’re in one of your regency books, Jay? What’s it like.”
Jason groaned and buried his face into Danny’s hair. “I hate you.”
“No you don’t,” Dick cooed.
“Oh good, Jason can work then,” Tim said. “I just want to sleep.”
“You can sleep now,” Jason pointed out. “No one is stopping you. Hell, Alfred would encourage it.”
“Can’t,” Tim said. “I’ve got to get this PR stuff done. Is this a diplomatic issue now too?”
“What can I answer to help?” Jazz asked in such a patently big sibling way that Jason glanced up to exchange a look with Dick. Having one more person after Tim to rest couldn’t hurt.
Tim pursed his lips. “We’ve already done the usual asking for respect during this difficult time. Babs and I have been working on making sure the part of the video where Danny asked Jason to press the button is in circulation and in the right hands. There have been some pointed emails sent. Bruce is going to go on tomorrow and give a brief statement— which we need some answers for. We’ve got Clark coming to interview in a few days to do a proper story. Luckily Vickie Val has made it easy for us to go out of Gotham for that story with how she’s been behaving.
“They’ve found out about your parents, of course, but we were able to respond instantly with your name change and, in all essence what was nearly emancipation with how quickly you did it and moved out. There are some character stories from old classmates though calling you odd but also defense from current ones that we’ve been pushing further up in the SEO. Between those details and his survival, it’s no wonder that the question of Danny being a meta is circling That’s the main thing we need to know how to address and if we want to play into it.”
Jason had to take a moment to respond to all that. He’d been so focused on helping Danny heal and stay happy that he hadn’t even thought half of that through. He knew the press were out there, of course they were, but… “You’ve really worked this out, haven’t you?”
Tim just blinked owlishly at him. “Of course I have. It’s what I do. I know you didn't like me looking into Danny when we first found out about you dating him, but… this is why I do those things. Not just to protect the family from other people, but to protect the people who get close to us. I can help direct the conversation because I know ahead of time that things like the Fentons will come up."
“Thank you Tim, really.”
“Um… you’re welcome,” Tim said before he looked back down at his tablet. “We do need to decide if we go the meta route at all. Would that cause issues with the Fentons? Do they also hate metas?”
“No,” Jazz said. “Well, they would basically look at superheroes to make sure they weren’t ghosts in disguise or possessed, but other than that they didn’t really mention metas. It was actually pretty much a non topic in our town with everything else.”
“But we’d have to be careful with what we say I can do or… well, they’ll clock me as a ghost. I’ve never wanted to find out what would happen then.”
“Is that why you didn’t want to go to a hospital?” Dick asked in that carefully gentle tone of his.
Danny shrugged. “That but more old fears. There used to be a group called the GIW that were government funded ghost hunters that had legal clearance, basically, to experiment and exterminate any ecto-entities. I really don’t want to be dissected like some classroom frog.”
“Vivisected,” Jazz corrected in such an absent way that it spoke of old arguments.
Jason clutched Danny closer to him.
“It’s okay. They never really were very above the board, it turned out, and when the power changed hands they lost their funding and just sort of disappeared.”
“But it doesn’t mean there fear did,” Dick summed up.
“We will look into them,” Damian said, standing. “To be certain that they are gone and no longer a threat to you or Todd. Drake, you will not be needed on this while you are in this sleep deprived state. I will seek Gordon’s help instead.”
“Hey! I can still—”
“Finish up asking us questions,” Jazz interrupted smoothly. “It wouldn’t be hard to spin Danny as a mild meta from the results of a lab accident.”
“Maybe even give a half truth,” Jason said. “He was electrocuted around some chemicals and he ended up with a mild resistance to it.”
“That could work,” Tim said, tapping away on his tablet. “Generally useless in day to day life other than cutting down on annoyances when wiring something but just enough to survive this sort of trap. Have Bruce throw in a joke about how Danny produces a lot of static electricity or something to lighten the mood.”
“And it would make it seem like Danny has a resistance, not a weakness, in case anyone tries something again,” Jason added.
“That would be nice. Being tased really, really sucks,” Danny whined.
Jason pressed a kiss to Danny’s temple. “I know, fish.”
“Yes, alright, Bruce will need to put it in his own Brucie wording but I think this will work,” Tim said with a little nod. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
---
AN: Rereading through this, this might just be the whole chapter. Maybe I'll make the interview it's own chapter to cut down on the shock of going to that style of pov and piece. And then the final* chapter? Thoughts thoughts...
Anyways, words are hard, brain is tired, here is Jazz!
You can subscribe to the masterpost here.
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Random headcanon post
silly habits I think crp characters would have!!
Jeff-
leaves things everywhere (by accident). Whether it be random items, clothes, etc. he’ll go in one room and put an item down, intending to pick it back up again when he leaves the room, and then will just completely forget it was there and leave to do another thing. People have grown accustomed to just assuming whatever has been left alone is Jeff’s, and usually leave it outside his door or in his room. He’s caught onto this, and has just accepted that whatever is left out in the open now belongs to him. Finders keepers.
Toby-
Doesn’t chew his food enough. I know it sounds silly, but most of the time when he’s eating he just zones out or has his attention on another thing (video, book, game, whatever) , so he doesn’t chew his food enough and swallows pieces that are too big. He doesn’t choke he just sits there like 👁️👁️, and it looks like he’s absolutely out of it, but he’s actually just trying to swallow the food. Will probably just silently stand up and grab a drink to try and wash it down, and then act as if nothing happened. Tim witnessed him doing it once and genuinely thought he had been possessed, now everyone knows to just grab him some water instead of calling for an exorcist.
BEN-
Forgets to take cans/plates/cups out of his room. I’m also guilty of this habit so it’s ok, but honestly I see BEN as quite the introvert, usually hiding away in his room for comfort. He doesn’t really like to eat with other people and is an absolute iPad kid to he’s got to be watching something while eating, so he usually goes up to his room. also, probably drinks atleast 15 energy drinks a day (yeah me too) and simply forgets to throw away the cans, or to bring the plates/bowls that he’s eaten out of downstairs. He intends to do it and then forgets to do it and then just decides he doesn’t wanna make the trip downstairs again to do it. So oh well. Either someone sees the state of his room and does it for him or he very slowly accumulates all of the manor’s plates and glasses, until literally nobody has anything to eat or drink out of.
EJ-
Hits his head on things/bumps into things. Already said in a previous post, but I hc this motherfucker to be TALL. As in he towers over everyone. This, unfortunately, leads to him bashing his head on the doorframes of almost every room, as the massive manor they live in wasn’t designed to home demons that tall, or demons at all, for a matter of fact, which leads me to the next thing. He bumps into things all the time, and has probably broken some things over the years (which he’s profusely apologised for every time) because he’s just so big- also, that tail of his doesn’t help. He tries his best to be a careful gentle giant, he really does, but who can blame him for some slip ups when you’re that size? The others would tease him for it, but he gets embarrassed and insecure about the fact he’s so tall and big compared to everyone else, so they bite their tongues.
Jane-
Leaves lipstick stains on everything. No glass, cup, mug or piece of cutlery in the manor is safe from her various shades of lipstick in red and black. When they host events, when they have a girls night out, or when it’s just a casual night of the adults drinking in the mansion, you can always tell which wine glass belongs to Jane because of the lipstick stain. (On the note of wine, she very specifically will only drink expensive red wine. Love her for that 🗣️🗣️)
Nina-
Doodles on everything. She gets bored super easily, and hates having to sit still for more than five minutes. She usually carries a marker or one of those scented pencils around with her, just so she can doodle on whatever surface she’s forced to sit at. Sometimes, even if she’s standing, she might just draw some silly things on the walls or wherever she can get her hands on. Very often, you’ll find drawings of cats, random squiggles, love hearts, or random notes about or to the residents. It can range from “you owe me $20!!” To “I really liked the way your hair looked today <3” and it makes people happy when they pass by and see what she’s scribbled on the dining room table or hallway wall for them today. She’s so silly how can anyone hate her
clockwork-
Talks in her sleep. This is super random, but I think it’s kinda silly for her. Sometimes, she goes out drinking with some guy friends of hers and come home at like 2 in the morning. Someone, probably BEN, comes downstairs intending to get a snack (because you know damn well his sleep schedule is fucked up as hell) and witnesses her fast asleep on the sofa, mumbling away. He finds it incredibly funny ofcourse and decides to record it, as she mutters away about whatever is going on in her dream. Ofcourse when she wakes up, hungover and grouchy enough as it is, and BEN teases her for it, well. You best believe that he’s already deleted the video and is undoubtedly sworn to secrecy after the threatening look she gives him. (He still tells Jeff though)
EXTRA (cuz I felt like it)
Shut up I know they aren’t technically crp but it’s for the sake of writing. Hush up and sit down 🗣️
Tim-
always leaves the lights on after leaving a room. He hates it when other people do it, and will always lecture someone about wasting electricity and blah blah blah, but he’s just as guilty. He’s usually rushing around with his billions of tasks to do, and forgets to switch off the lights after he exits a room. Truthfully, he feels a bit bad about being so hypocritical sometimes, lecturing everyone else despite the fact he does it himself, but he always claims that “it’s different!!” And he does it because he’s rushing around, everyone else does it cause they’re forgetful (he’s literally just as forgetful, but for the sake of his sanity, indulge in these thoughts and accept the lectures.)
Brian-
Taps on surfaces constantly. This is actually a habit he picked up from Toby, who at first just did it as a stim, but once Brian picked it up, they just randomly began to tap out random made up melodies together for fun. Nobody else gets it, and really, neither do they: it’s their little thing. Sometimes, they’ll silently agree to play a game of trying to guess the song the other person is trying to tap, and if they pick up on it, it’s always a fun little bonding moment of them just tapping on different surfaces together to make said song. They look absolutely crazy doing it, grinning at eachother and tapping away, but they’re happy and having fun, so that’s all that matters. Sometimes, the others catch on and join in, but most of the time it’s their little secret.
#creepypasta#creepypasta x Reader#creepypasta headcanons#Jeff the killer x reader#Jeff the killer headcanons#ticci Toby x reader#ticci tony headcanons#ben drowned x reader#ben drowned headcanons#eyeless jack headcanons#eyeless jack x reader#jane the killer headcanons#jane the killer x reader#nina the killer#nina the killer x reader#clockwork headcanons#clockwork x reader#tim wright headcanons#tim wright x reader#Brian Thomas headcanons#brian thomas x reader#marble hornets headcanons#creepypasta x you#creepypasta headcanon#Jeff the killer hcs#ticci toby hcs#ben drowned hcs#eyeless jack hcs#creepypasta hcs
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I'll ask after that secret number 8!
I only remembered secret number 8 because I saw your wip here! I'd started this one based on the same prompt, then lost said prompt and stopped working on it 😅
Instead of a snippet, I'm just dropping it all here - maybe that way I'll feel inspired to finish it?
———
It’s a full house for dinner tonight and, really, that should have tipped him off.
Bruce sits at the head of the table, smiling softly as he watches over everyone’s antics. Damian is regaling Dick with everything they saw at the zoo that day (Danny had been so happy to see Delilah the purpleback gorilla again, and her new little additions to the troupe, too!) and how well they are implementing the grant the Wayne Foundation had gifted them. Tim, Steph, Cass, and Duke are all engaged in a thumb-war tournament which Danny has no interest in participating in. It just wouldn’t be fair on them.
Danny loves that look. The one where Bruce’s eyes crinkle when he thinks none of the kids can see him. It oozes love and it makes Danny’s heart, his core, ache.
It’s been a little over a year since Alfred found him on the street and managed to wrangle him back to the manor to stay—even after the whole biting thing when he realised how rich they were.
A little over a year here and Danny’s starting to feel like family.
Starting to feel like he might, just maybe, like to make it official.
“Danny,” Bruce says, drawing everyone’s attention. Danny starts at his name, but Bruce’s voice is warm and calm, and his shoulders lose their tension almost immediately. “Danny, I have something I would like to tell you.”
“Uhhh…” is all Danny can croak out, eyes flicking back and forth between Bruce and the rest of them. Smooth. Looking good, Danny.
Except… they’re all happy. All smiles, all relaxed body language, all radiating calm and love and acceptance. Well, not Damian—his face is as thunderous as it always is—which at least means it’s nothing too out of the ordinary.
“Danny, first of all, I just want to impress upon you that this is in no way something you have to do. You are under no obligation to join us and, no matter what, you shall always be welcome with us in the manor.”
Wait, what? Danny squints at Bruce, trying to parse exactly what he’s saying… Is he—is this them asking to adopt him? Do they want to make it official, too?
It’s been a little over a year and of course Danny has imagined calling Bruce ‘Dad’. Of course he’s imagined being part of the family, of course he wants to make it official!
He can’t help the beaming grin or the bright and bubbling “Yes!” already waiting on his lips. All Bruce has to do is ask, all Danny needs to hear is—
“I’m Batman.”
The smile freezes on Danny’s face.
His lungs stop working, his heart stops working, he stops working, he just—
“And I’m Nightwing,” Dick smiles, breaking the awkward silence.
Danny’s eyes snap to him, and then down to Tim when he admits to being Red Robin. Duke is Signal, Steph is Spoiler. Damian begrudgingly tells him he’s Robin, but Danny can barely hear it over the ringing in his ears.
“I’m Black Bat.” Cass cocks her head, almost looking concerned. It always felt like she understood him the most. Whenever he was feeling low, too in his memories, or stewing after a nightmare, she was always there, ready to card her fingers through his hair and never mention his tears. It makes his heart ache to think of it now. “It’s okay, Danny.”
It’s meant to be reassuring, but how—how can it be okay? How?
Danny’s spent a little over a year with them. A little over a year with Batman.
Batman, who works with the Justice League, who works with…
A little over a year.
Just under 16 months since he escaped.
“Danny? Are you alright?” Bruce asks
Finally, his lungs kickstart and suck in a shuddering breath, only for everyone to drop their smiles.
Didn’t take them long, did it? Now that their ruse is up, there’s no kindness in their eyes, they’re just… cold, calculating. Evaluating.
“Why?” Danny gasps, his fingers tingling, his heart in his throat.
Just under 16 months since he—has he escaped? Or was this just another one of their experiments?
"I... I trusted you, why—" Danny chokes back a sob, gritting his teeth as his shoulders shake. Why? Why would they do this? "I was happy here, with you. I thought... Weren't you happy?"
"Danny..." Bruce is looking at him, eyes narrow and eyebrows pinched, in some cruel facsimile of confused concern and all Danny can think is how much of an actor he is. How well he can play the part of a doting father. How much he made him want that.
"I don't understand, why..."
"I'm sorry we didn't tell you before, I can imagine that it comes as a shock. We shouldn't have lied to you, Danny, but—"
"Stop it!" Danny slams his hands down on the table and pushes himself up on wobbly legs. Even standing, he feels so small. Smaller than Bruce, than all of his adopted siblings. They crowd above him when they all stand, too. "Just stop it! Why are you doing this, why are you still pretending? Stop it!"
It was easier, with Danny's biological parents. The knowledge that they'd do anything to get him on a lab table, to open him up and see what makes him tick, to rip him apart molecule by molecule, had always been there. He knew they hated ghosts. He knew they hated Phantom. He knew they hated him. It was easier because it was something he'd known all his life. When he died, when he became a ghost, he knew what to expect from them. It hurt, of course it did.
But it was easier than this.
"Danny, I'm going to need you to take a deep breath. You're having a panic attack and you need to breathe."
"Breathe?" Danny laughs, the sound harsh and choking, too high pitched in his hysteria. "You're joking, right? Or is this just more of the—the experiment?"
"Danny, please, we don't know what you're talking about, you—"
"You don't know? You're Batman! You work with the Justice League, you work with—" His words choke off as his stomach churns, bile rising in his throat. His whole body itches, screaming at him to leave, he can't go back, he can't, he can't, he can't!
Bruce takes a hesitant step forward and Danny scrambles back, his feet catching on the chair behind him and sending him careening to the floor. Where are the agents? Why aren't they swarming in, ready to apprehend him, strap him back on the table, carve him from the inside out.
"Please, Danny, calm down. We don't—"
Danny stops listening. His back hits the wall and he pulls his knees into his chest, his shoulders dipping down as he begins to sob. His heart throbs inside his throat, too painful to swallow around. Tears fall hot and heavy on his face.
Sure, he could run. He could phase out through the wall and he could be out of Gotham in a couple of hours. He's escaped the GIW once, he can do it again.
But that was before Batman knew who he was. Before he had the World's Greatest Detective on his tail.
Before he...
He really thought this would be different, you know?
He wanted to make it official.
"Why did... Why were you so nice to me? Why did you make me like you? I really—I really liked you. I-I thought we could be a family."
"Danny, we are a—"
"Don't lie to me!" Danny snaps, but the force of his anger leeches all the fight from him, and suddenly all that's left is a bone-weary tiredness. There’s a lump in his throat that hurts. There’s a line down his chest that burns. "I don't care. I don't care anymore, I don't. Just... don't make me go back there. Please."
Is it futile? He thought he knew how the GIW operated by now, the depths that they would go to achieve their results, but this... this was a whole new level of pain that Danny thought he had left behind him in Amity.
"We're not going to make you go anywhere, Danny, you're safe here, I promise."
"Safe? Safe? You must have—" he takes a deep breath, tries to stop the quivering of his voice. It’s all starting to make sense, now. "The reason you're telling me who you are is because you must have told them everything already. I know the Justice League—I know you're working with them, which means the ex-experiment is over now, and they're coming to take me back. And I can't go back."
"Danny—"
"I can’t!” Danny glares at Bruce with all the rage he can, fingernails digging into his skin. “I’m not going back!"
"That's right, you're not going back, Danny. I won't let that happen." Bruce crouches down in front of Danny, his hands open and raised as if he's trying to say he's not a threat. "I don't know who you're talking about, and I'm sorry about that, but I can promise you that you’re not going back there. We will keep you safe."
Danny pulls himself closer, tucks himself further into the wall, eyes flickering all across the room waiting for that tell-tale flash of white as the agents start to swarm.
He should take his chances now and run, he should go, he needs to go!
The rest of them, his brothers and sisters of a little over a year, are spread out, giving him and Bruce some space. The same concern colours all of their faces. Why are they still pretending?
Steph is chewing on her thumb.
Danny liked Steph and her brash confidence, her jokes. She's been promising to paint his nails for months now, they've just never found the time. He was going to go for green and black, or maybe a galaxy theme, depending on what she felt comfortable doing.
He likes them all.
"You were supposed to be my family." His mouth turns down at the corners and his voice shakes like a child. "You were supposed to—why? Why would you—I don't understand why you would make me like you..."
"This isn't an experiment, Danny," Bruce's voice is steady, soothing. "I promise."
"But you work with them and—"
"Who do I work with?"
"The Justice League."
"Yes, I do, but we—"
"And the Justice League works with them. The GIW." Danny trembles with the name, clutching tightly onto his hoodie. "I'm not going back there, Bruce."
Danny doesn't miss Bruce's look over his shoulder, nor Tim's nod in return. Tim turns slightly to the side to hide his movements, but Danny bets he has his phone in his hand, probably letting them know they can take him now. Guess this is it, then. They'll be here soon, and he'll be gone.
"Kill me."
"Danny? What do—"
"If you ever had any kindness for me, if you ever cared, kill me. Please, Bruce. I can't do it again."
"Danny..."
"End me now. Take my core out and break it, please, before they get here."
#dpxdc#dcxdp#dpxdc fanfic#wip game#thanks for the ask <3 and thanks for helping me remember this fic lol#also huge thanks for having the prompt linked because i have S O M A N Y prompt wips that i can't ever post because i've lost the post#didn't really know how to get danny to calm down#that's a lie#i have a few ideas of where this can go but no motivation for it - not against all the other wips#i'll keep at it and ig post to ao3 should it actually start looking alright#¯\_(ツ)_/¯#dudes did u kno u can pin shit to your clipboard on desktop because i fucking love that#also if you use the windows key + . there's like emojis and shit#(((φ(◎ロ◎;)φ)))#<- and kaomoji too!!!!!#anyway that's been fun facts and fanfic with me. ur welcome#oh shit my writing tag#hailsatanacrab🦀🦀writes#at some point 'oh shit my writing tag' will just become my writing tag#anyway thank you again for the ask#good night everyone!!!!!
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the creeps!!
how about... creeps x reader who is having a ptsd response due to something/someone from their before life?
your choice!
EEE thank you for giving me a little freedom with this one hehe, you're a doll <33 (hope these are okay; I realize these aren't exactly "comforting" but these guys are messed up,, I don't think you can really expect comfort from them lol)
!!TW!! for depiction/mention of PTSD! Proceed with caution lovelies!!
Creepypasta/MH: How They React When Your PTSD is Triggered
Characters: Jeff the Killer, Clockwork, Jane the Killer, "Ticci" Toby, Tim/Masky
Jeff the Killer
I'm going to be so real with you, his first response is not going to be to comfort you
He is going to kill whoever triggered you, or burn it if it's not a person
You can try to stop him, but he's not going to
Honestly he might lowkey be making it worse, doing it right there and then with you watching
Well, he'll probably tell you to close your eyes and plug your ears first
(But if you want to participate, he'll just say: "let me do this for you, babe.")
All you'll know is that one minute it's/they're there, and the next Jeff is taking you by the shoulders and leading you away quickly
Just ignore the char/blood on his hoodie
He'll ask if you want to talk about it while you're walking
If you decline he'll ask again when you're back home
While he doesn't really need a reason to kill for you, he still wants to know what that scumbag did (or just what happened)
If you're mad at him for what he did, he's not going to care
In his eyes, he did the right thing, and he's not going to apologize for it
Anything that hurts his love deserves to perish, if not for their sake then for his
He can't stand the thought of someone/something that makes you unhappy existing in this world
If you ever stress about it again, he will actually focus on you, holding you, consoling you by repeating "they're/it's gone, they/it won't hurt you anymore..."
There's an eerie smugness to his voice as he says it...
Clockwork
I feel like you guys would've already talked about your trauma
She's prone to attacks too, so it was a mutual discussion about triggers/what helps/what doesn't
So she knows exactly what's going on when you're triggered
Her first concern is you, trying to quell the attack before it gets too bad
She'll do something you told her helps ASAP
It'll make her feel better if you let her stay with you, but she understands if you need space
What she'd really like is to hold your hand and get your mind off of it by talking about something else
She'd be fine if she was the only one talking
Just as long as you're showing signs of improvement
When the attack is over, she'll give you time to process it
But eventually she will want to bring it up again
Specifically, she wants to make plans to... uh... "eliminate" the thing that triggered you
And those plans will be vividly detailed
If you don't want to take part in that, she'll make them (and execute them) herself
She just thought you'd wanna take part; I mean, it's how she """solved""" her trauma
She won't follow through if you explicitly tell her not to, but otherwise she operates under the assumption that this is a plan, not a fantasy
When you have another attack, she won't talk about how it/they can't hurt you anymore; she'll just focus on doing the things you said helped
Jane the Killer
She's pretty good at observing people, so I think she'd be able to sense your attack early on
Even if she doesn't know about your PTSD
The first thing she does is remove you from the situation, wrapping an arm around you and rushing away
She sends the meanest scowl to anyone who looks at you funny while you go
Then she focuses on grounding you; she's not too good with feelings, but she's logical enough to try and figure something out to help you
She won't talk much; just an occasional "breathe with me" or "focus on me" while she holds your hands and maintains eye contact
It doesn't show but she's actually so nervous, she has no idea if she's really helping you
She'll be right there with you through the worst of it, and she'll be there if you want to talk after
She will want to know what caused it, if she hasn't figured it out already
I honestly don't think she'll want to "eliminate" it/them
But she will talk the nastiest, goriest, most illegal shit about it/them
She gets all giddy when you grin about it too; internally she's going yeah!! made them smile!! (happy dance)
She'll try not to bring it up intentionally, but whenever it does come up she makes sure to express her strong distaste
If you ever actually want to... take care of things, she'll help with the cleanup, but she'll want you to have the satisfaction of planning and doing it yourself
I mean, she dreams of having that satisfaction herself (looks at Jeff)
Regardless of whether or not you want to do something illegal, ultimately she respects that it's your trauma and you get to deal with it however you like
"Ticci" Toby
Murder. Arson.
Literally his knee-jerk reaction
He just looks between you and the suspected trigger, points a thumb in its direction and says: "Want me to kill that guy/light that thing up?"
If you say yes he'll do it straight away; he doesn't care who's watching
He'll ask if you want to help first though ofc
Then he'll run away giggling like a second grader, grabbing your hand on the way
When you slow down he sighs satisfactorily, saying how fun that was
If you're still distressed (or if you refused his earlier offer), he finally takes notice of your emotions
He'll ask you quite bluntly what's wrong
When you explain it to him, he just nods solemnly
He knows from experience that having a rough past sucks, so he understands completely
If you haven't already he suggests that you "take care of it"
But if you agreed to murder/arson earlier he just grins again and says "Well then it's good that we did that back there!"
If you ever have an attack again he'll either remind you that the thing/person is gone, or he'll nag you about "taking care of it"
He'll begrudgingly put an arm around you though when you don't immediately calm down
He might offer you something to fidget with, too; that always helps him when he's anxious
Just try not to be too alarmed when it's a box cutter or a butterfly knife or something weird that he puts in your hand
Tim/Masky
I feel like he'd be a little awkward when you start to panic
He'll panic a little too, asking what's wrong and if/how he can help
He'll do anything you say, but if you're unable to respond he just puts his arm around your shoulders and takes you into another room
He'll hug you against him, patting your back awkwardly while you process the attack
He doesn't know what else to do :(
He probably realizes what's happening after a few minutes, and he only gets more awkward when that happens
He sucks at dealing with his own trauma; he is literally the worst person for you to be with right now
At least that's what he thinks
When you start to calm down he asks if you want to talk about it, but then immediately curses himself for asking such a stupid question (he doesn't even want to talk about his trauma; why should anyone else? (just his thoughts))
If you do want to talk it turns into a very deep and candid discussion in which you both open up a bit
He'll ask if there's anything that helps at all
Honestly he's asking for you as much as himself; he'd love to try anything that works for you
I don't think he'd suggest or condone killing/destroying the trigger; from his experience that just brings more issues
He'll basically just tell you "yeah, it sucks, and we just have to deal. Which sucks times two."
Very helpful, thank you Tim 👍
At least he always holds you whenever you have an attack <3
Thank you so much for this request!! And thanks for reading, take care sweethearts <33
(divider by saradika)
#ptsd tw#tw ptsd#tw trauma#tw#creepypasta#creepypasta x reader#marble hornets x reader#creepypasta headcanons#jeff the killer#jeff the killer x reader#clockwork#clockwork x reader#jane the killer#jane the killer x reader#ticci toby#ticci toby x reader#tobias rogers#tobias rogers x reader#tim wright x reader#masky x reader
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Death of Me
It was official. You were going to murder your husband. How many times had you told him to be careful. To not put himself in harms way anymore than absolutely necessary. He’d always tell you not to worry while giving you that damn smile that had you believing every word he said. And now you were rushing to the hospital for the second time in the month because of a phone call letting you know that Jethro had been hurt.
Tim met you in the hospital lobby, bypassing the check in and you both entered the elevators.
“How bad is it Tim?”
“Well he’s recovered from worse but you’ll definitely need to keep him from overdoing it for a few days.”
You gave him a look before speaking. “Yeah. And I’ll teach him to speak Mandarin while I’m at it.”
Tim led you out of the elevators and down the hall to his room but stopped you before you headed in.
“Just a heads up. Since he came out of surgery, he’s been a little out of it. I think the Morphine is really kicking his ass.”
“Hm. Well better that than me. Thanks Tim.”
You gave him a grateful hug and walked into the dim hospital room. As soon as your eyes fell on him, all anger dissipated. He was asleep, shirtless and left shoulder bandaged up. His face was relaxed and breaths steady, letting you know he was genuinely getting some good rest.
Not wanting to wake him up, you quietly brought a chair over and settled in it before gently taking his hand in yours. Of course even a morphine induced nap couldn’t keep him from his hypersensitive senses as he stirred, eyes fluttered open. He looked around the room before his sapphire blue eyes fell on you and stared a second before chucking to himself.
“What’s so funny?” you asked, amused.
“My wife is gonna kill me.”
He might not have recognized you in his state of delirium but at least he knew he had a wife. You decided to play along, not seeing the hurt.
“Oh yeah? Because you’re in the hospital for the 2nd time this month due to your over brazen behavior?” you tried hinting, wondering if it would bring back some lucidity.
“Nope. Because you’re holding my hand. And she haaates when other women touch me.”
Now it was your turn to chuckle. “Well she probably just loves you too much to share you with anyone else.”
He nodded and let go of your hand, placing it on his chest while taking a deep breath.
“Yeah. She loves me. Even when I don’t deserve it..She’s great..I wish she was here..”
Your heart broke at his melancholy words, not wanting him to think you wouldn’t show up to visit and couldn’t help but reach out to touch his arm.
“Jethro. I’m your wife.”
“Right. And I’m the king of Shri Lanka,” he joked.
There wasn’t much you could do if he wasn’t coherent enough so you settled for just sitting there next to him. After a couple of minutes he fell back asleep and you took the opportunity to take his hand in yours again.
————
“Y/N?” someone spoke, waking you out of your nap. You picked your head up from the side of Jethro’s bed and saw him looking at you in slight confusion.
“Hey Gunny,” you greeted lovingly, sitting up and grimacing at the stiffness.
“Have you been here the whole time? What time is it?”
“It’s around 6pm. You’ve been asleep since about this afternoon. Surgery went really well, I’m sure you’ll be up and chasing more bad guys again in the next couple weeks.”
You got up to pour him a cup of water as he went to try and lift his bad arm, wincing immediately, making you roll your eyes at his stubbornness.
“I don’t care if I have to lock you in your basement for the next week Jethro but you’re going to let your shoulder heal properly,” you threatened, handing him the water.
“A week isn’t necessary-
You shut him down with a look that rivaled his own and he sighed in defeat.
“Oh by the way, do you remember talking with me earlier?” you asked curiously.
“No. What did I say?”
You laughed at the apprehension in his voice and took his empty cup to set it on the table.
“Well you had no idea who I was. And chastised me for touching you, saying your wife wouldn’t be happy about it.”
“Mm. I’d say that gets me a point in the honorable husband category,” he stated proudly.
You laughed and nodded. “You’re absolutely right. How about I make my famous Chicken Parm for us tonight?”
“I’ve got nothing else to do,” he responded with a small smile.
“Damn right you don’t.”
You gave him a well waited kiss and thanked the universe for the moment. You don’t know what you would do without him and you hope to never find out.
#gibbs x reader#leroy jethro gibbs#ncis#ncis fanfiction#agent gibbs#mark harmon#ncis request#jethro gibbs x reader#ncis imagine#jethro gibbs fanfiction
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Nothing at all pt.2? When they get caught ???
Nothing at all pt. 2
Tim Bradford x reader
Warnings/Tags: fluff, angst, secret relationship
Word count: 1.804
Authors note: Hello love, here it is: part 2!
I'd like to mention beforehand that I'm not homophobic, nor anything close to it (just feeling like I should mention it, before someone tries to call me out for whatever they might interpret).
I'm not entirely happy with how it turned out, but I'll maybe add a part 3.
Also, it's not entirely proof read yet (it's almost 2 am in Germany and I'm sooo tired right now)
Anyways, I'm still loving the idea behind this. Thanks for liking it as well!
Read part one here!
Enjoy!
It was easy, falling for Tim Bradford.
Hiding, that was the real quest.
It hadn't been long, since you and Tim had become a couple. What once was a way to blow off some steam, having been ignited when you drank a little too much, became more somewhere along the way.
Avoiding Lucy's hawk like eyes and questions became harder the more time passed, though.
She was true to her word, snooping and eavesdropping wherever she could. It wasn't long until you were no rookie anymore, but it seemed to get harder to hide the more time passed.
The worst one though, was Sergeant Grey.
Since you and Tim had become a couple, there happened a few things caused by you and Tim not being a hundred percent on board during calls.
Though it wasn't anything too serious, Grey became suspicious.
Which was bad.
You would have been doomed, if he found out before you ranked up. So you had to lie, stirring his assumptions and suspicions somewhere else - to you being lesbian and Tims best friend.
Yeah, you weren't proud of that lie, especially considering that it could have backfired so hard, you could have not only gotten fired, but declared morally reprehensible either.
But you had said these words faster than your brain could have caught up, Tims eyes widening so much, they could have competed with plates.
And Grey had apologized for snooping in your private life, which made it even worse. You felt so guilty, that you had a very hard time even looking at him during roll call.
You just hoped things wouldn't get out of hand too much, before you could tell him the truth.
Counting the days, you became more impatient the closer you got to your exams. Which meant that you became more reckless as well.
It was hard enough with Lucy hiding behind every corner, you didn't need to risk everything by giving into your desires now, so close to the finish line.
Yeah, so much for that...
The way she shouted in triumph when she then finally caught you red handed, would haunt you in your dreams, you were sure of that.
She startled you so hard, that you headbutted Tim, causing him to jump back, holding his nose, as he glared at his rookie.
She had caught you making out, hiding behind the police station like teenagers in high-school.
You hadn't seen Tim during the day, his shift matching yours, but nothing had led to you running into each other. It had been a long day, so you were more than excited to see him.
And as his tongue plunged into your mouth, his fingers digging into your hips in the darkness, as yours brushed through his hair, she suddenly stood beside you.
God damn it.
Biting your lip you tried to hide in the shadows, face buried in your hands, as you silently died of shame.
But you felt relieved somehow, too.
At least she wouldn't stalk you and Tim anymore.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Tim snapped at Lucy, trying not to lose his cool entirely and let her fall through immediately, even though she made it really hard for him.
Her brows furrowed, as she realized that she not only had upset him, but she had made him angry as well.
Very angry.
Before she could have responded, he continued on. "Now you have what you wanted - are you happy now?" He yelled at her and you were grateful for the parking lot being otherwise empty at this time.
She swallowed, averting her gaze as she fumbled with the hem of her jacket. All the joy she must have felt moments before, was gone now. She had gone too far, only to prove that she was right.
Normally, she wasn't like that. But the way Tim had treated her, doing his Tim-tests and all, she wanted a little revenge.
That, was too much though.
She knew that.
Swallowing, she looked back up. "I'm sorry." she apologized, biting her lip as it quivered treacherously. "It somehow got out of hand, I know that now. I shouldn't have pressed so much. I'm gonna go now, good night."
With that she turned, almost running towards her car.
Mouth agape you stared after her, as Tim shook his head, biting his cheek in anger. He hated it when people snooped around his private life, especially when it was at work and he was ranked higher than them.
She wasn't even supposed to be so interested in it.
It wasn't her business.
"Fuck." you breathed out, realizing that she now held the power to get you both fired. Tims eyes met yours in the dark, the street lamp the only source of light.
"I'm gonna talk to her." you told him, looking back at where Lucy stood moments ago. His brows rose, as he looked at you like you were out of your damn mind.
"Someday she would have eventually learned about us, anyways. She'll get over it, yes, but I don't want her to stay mad at us. And then there's that thing with Grey... If she tells him, we're doomed."
He sent you a pointed look, like he was trying to say the thing with Grey goes entirely on you.
Sighing, you nodded to yourself, before you fumbled for your keys. "I'll call you later, okay?" He only nodded, before he walked you to your car.
"Try and not be too mad at her. She's still your rookie." you reminded him, hoping to convince him not to let her fall through. He huffed, biting his cheek.
"I know."
____
Knocking at Lucy's door, you fumbled with the strap of your bag. Would she even open the door, if she saw it was you?
She did, because only a few second later the door opened, revealing her distraught face. She stepped aside wordlessly, letting you in.
Closing the door behind you, she walked towards the couch, plopping down on it. You followed her, setting your bag down as you took a seat beside her.
"Is he gonna fire me?" she asked, not looking at you, as her voice seemed distant. You shook your head, leaning back. "No, he won't." you assured her. "I wouldn't let him."
She huffed, fumbling with her fingers, elbows resting on her legs. "I thought it would be funny, but I haven't realized how much I invaded your privacy." she started to explain, looking down at her hands.
"All I wanted was to prove my theory right. I didn't consider the consequences. But when I saw you two, it felt like I just won a competition or something."
You chuckled despite the seriousness of the situation, causing her to look up at you.
"You have no clue how good it feels to finally have you knowing about it." you admitted, sending her a crooked smile. "It's like a weight being lifted off my shoulders. Grey was suspicious, as well. I might have told him that I'm lesbian."
Her eyes widened, as she laughed, shocked.
"You did what?" she shouted, covering her mouth with her hand. Nodding, you laughed as well, as she slid up on the couch, body turned towards you.
It was all so absurd.
"When we're ranked up, I'm gonna tell him the truth." you said, wiping at your tired eyes. "I feel so bad for lying to him. Tim was so shocked about it, that he almost slipped, almost telling Grey the truth."
She shook her head, before she looked down at her hands again. "I'm not gonna tell him, no worries." she assured you, looking back up. "After all you didn't say anything about me and John, either. That doesn't mean, that I understand why you didn't trust me enough to tell me, though."
You felt bad, knowing that she was right.
"I was scared." you admitted, looking down. "It wasn't that I didn't trust you, it was just that he is your TO, and my superior officer as well. I couldn't risk anything - even though I seemed to be rather dumb today, making out with him in the parking lot."
She cocked a brow at you, silently agreeing.
"We all do dumb things." she then told you, scooting closer. "So, are you guys officially dating now?"
You snorted, swatting at her arm, causing her to laugh as well, before you started to explain everything.
____
"She won't say a thing."
Instead of calling Tim, you had driven to his place. He nodded, as he let you step inside. "Did she want something in return?" he questioned, closing the door behind you, as you took off your jacket, hanging it on the clothing rack.
"No." you gave back, shaking your head, as you stood in front of him. "She's my friend." He nodded slowly, clearly surprised.
Standing on your tiptoes, you leaned up to him, hands interlocking at his neck, pressing your lips against his. His hands found their way to your hips almost automatically, as he returned the kiss.
His lips were soft, moving slowly against your own, as he leaned down, so you wouldn't have to keep standing on your toes. His tongue brushed your lip and you let it in, continuing were you had left off.
One of his hands moved up, cupping your cheek as he tilted your head, deepening the kiss. You whimpered into his mouth, the desire taking over, as it suddenly knocked at the door right behind him, causing you to break apart.
Breathing heavily you looked at each other.
He seemed as clueless as you, clearly not expecting any visitors.
Still he opened the door, making you wish he'd just ignored it instead.
It was Grey and his wife Luna.
His mouth was as equally open as yours and Tims were, staring at each other in utter shock and confusion. Only Luna reacted differently, tilting her head, as she tried to make sense of the situation.
You were the first to close your mouth again, as realization sat in. Turning away from them, you silently fumed.
This couldn't be happening, right?
It had to be a bad joke.
"Sergeant, what are you doing here?" Tim inquired, as you bit on your thumb, trying to stay calm. They didn't see anything, right? Surely they wouldn't look through the windows up front, before knocking at the door.
Who were you kidding, honestly?
Grey needed a moment to respond, his wife beating him to it. "Didn't you say she's a lesbian?" she asked, clearly knowing that you weren't in fact a lesbian.
Turning back around, you saw Grey balling his hand to a fist, shaking it as he tried to keep his cool, clearly struggling.
"We don't have time for that now." he then said, clenching his jaw. "Someone broke into our house, we need somewhere safe to stay at for at least a couple hours."
Tims brows rose, nodding, as he let them in, his cheeks turning pinkish.
"Don't think I'll forget about this, though!" Grey added, eyes narrowing, as he angrily pointed at you two. You both nodded, mumbling a 'yes sir'.
You were officially doomed.
"Crap."
#the rookie#the rookie imagine#the rookie x reader#the rookie x u#tim bradford#tim bradford x reader#tim bradford x you#tim bradford imagine#tim bradford smut
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I hope it’s not too weird but can I request batfam a batbro!reader, older than Damian but younger then Tim that isn’t very emotional when it comes to death? Like they don’t understand why people are so hysterical over death. Maybe an animal died and they just go “oh they’re dead” like it was nothing.
Hope ur doing well, I’m projecting so much with this but I can’t wait to see what you do if you do. I love ur writing, can’t wait to read more 🫶
Alrighty then. Thanks for the encouragement.
Summary: (Y/N) is not really emotional about death. Bruce was a little bit worried.
Warnings: talk of death and it's elements, death of animals, this is just Bruce being worried and thinking about his son.
Bruce knew that his kids have some problems expressing emotions. To almost all of them, death was a touchy subject. Bruce knew that better than everyone. But his second youngest son was a whole another case about it.
Why, I might hear you asking? Well, (Y/N) had no reactions to death. Bruce always waited for (Y/N) to get hit with the reality, but the reality and the aftermath didn't hit him. Never. Bruce understood that everyone grieves differently, that was in human nature. There isn't really a rulebook on how to grieve.
No human thought the same and no human grieved the same. But to Bruce, (Y/N) was a whole another case. He loved his son and when (Y/N)'s parents passed, he wasn't really sad. He was... fine.
Bruce waited for the aftermath to hit and he waited for (Y/N) to crumble and he was more than ready to help him and he was more than ready to catch him.
But the aftermath never really hit him. Bruce would be lying if he said that (Y/N) wasn't sad, but it wasn't a normal grieving behavior either. He was so worried that he asked Black Canary to talk to him about mourning and grieving.
Canary said that there was nothing wrong with (Y/N). She just told Bruce that he didn't grive in a normal way, but that wasn't any reason for concern. He wasn't a sociopath or a psychopath.
Bruce could breath a little bit easier. But sometimes (Y/N)'s calm demeanor was the thing that could get him in the most of trouble. It was just recently when a bird that Damian was caring for passed away.
Damian was sad and the rest of the brothers were sad too so they decided to bury the bird in the yard. Everyone made little speeches, expect (Y/N). He didn't see the point. It was just an animal. Everyone was emotional in their own way, expect for (Y/N).
" (Y/N)? Anything you want to say? " Bruce prompted, putting his hand on (Y/N)'s shoulder.
" I don't have anything to say. The animal is dead. That's all. " (Y/N) said, looking down at the tiniest coffin that he has ever seen. Damian fumed. If it weren't for Dick, Damian would have lunged at (Y/N).
Bruce could only sigh and lead (Y/N) away as they were done with the ceremony. He really needed to talk with (Y/N) about being sensitive when it came to death. Sure, you don't have to cry, but still, have some empathy for those who are suffering.
" But Bruce, I don't understand why people are so emotional about death. I mean, it happens. It's a natural process. We are all slowly going towards our deaths. " (Y/N) said after the talk he had with Bruce.
" I know. But people have different approaches to death. Some grieve openly, some in private, but one thing they have in common is that they are all in pain. Animal or a human. " Bruce explained to his son.
" I should apologize to Damian then. " (Y/N) declared, standing up. If Damian doesn't try to kill him first. It was 50/50.
#dc x male reader#dc comics#x male reader#batfamily#bruce wayne x male reader#batkids#batman x male reader
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