Note: I don’t care what people say, it is perfectly acceptable to wear socks in bed… especially when your SO is also prone to ice feet. *sticks out tongue* Anywho… trying a new fic rotation schedule. Are Tuesdays okay, with the series and requests still coming out on Friday? Having three (or more) coming out on the same day is a bit much. Let me know of any feedback you’ve got. Tag lists, requests, and general comments are always open. Enjoy!
You were cold. You didn’t like being cold. Especially on a rare sleep-in morning. So you grabbed the winter sheet with both hands and tugged it with all your might. A minute or so later, it was tugged away.
“Seriously,” you hissed. You turned, ready to steal the sheets back even at the cost of waking him up but stopped short. With a sigh, you settled back into the pillows and observed him.
Halloween had been pretty hectic this year. Multiple rogues, and several working together to cause the most chaos they could. Dick’s under-eyes were darker than usual. And now that you’d thought about it, he’d only come in a few hours ago. For all the crazy nights and late hours, his face looked the most peaceful when he was asleep. You’d had an easier time of it as dispatch. And as such, technically needed more sleep instead of a morning fight.
So, you snuggled closer to him and went back to sleep.
***
Sleep-in mornings also meant an 80% chance of waking up horny.
In only a few hours of extra sleep, your feelings for Dick had flipped 180 degrees. But you still didn’t want to wake him.
He groaned in his sleep and the edges of his mouth twitched. The way his eyes were moving behind his lids, he must have been having a good dream.
Oh. Maybe you could… no. He needed to sleep. Needed more than just a few hours of it. But you know how to do it without waking him up. He really likes it. Yeah, and then he wakes up and- And ravages you. Ravaging is not resting. No. But- No.
You huffed, falling back into the pillows. Dick hummed in his sleep, thrusting his hips.
Fine.
Doing your best not to shift the sheets too much, you flipped so that your bottom half was outside, and your head was under. It didn’t matter that you were in sweats and socks, your legs were chilled. If this worked, you would be warm soon enough too. Dick was wearing similar attire, but the sweats were old and the elastic was long gone. Meaning that you could untie the string holding them tight around his body and easily get to his cock.
Already your mouth was watering. And he wasn’t fully hard yet.
Dick gasped in his sleep as you began to slowly pump his length. It swelled and warmed in your hand. You twirled your thumb around the top, smiling as you were rewarded with a bead of precum. His hips gave another jolt, pumping himself in your hand. He whimpered as you sloppily kissed up and down his cock.
“Y/N,” he moaned.
You froze, minimizing your hand movements until you were sure he was still asleep. Then you took the head into your mouth, humming at the taste. Taking him further, you gripped his base. With your other hand, you found that small spot behind his balls and made him gasp louder than before. His hands clawed at the sheets. You like to call it his only weakness. He called it ‘cheating.’ Never stopped you from using though, and you kept pulsing pressure on it while taking him further.
A flush had crept into your skin. And you were pressing your thighs together. If he were awake, Dick would make some comment about how you liked sucking him off more than he did.
“Y/N.”
Oops.
The sheets were pulled away and you stifled a grin as Dick visibly had to take a moment having seen you with your lips around his cock. “Good morning,” you hummed, devilishly licking him from balls to tip.
“’Mornin’,” he breathed. His throat constricted as you went back to work. “Not that I’m complaining, but…” he choked back a moan as you swallowed him down. “Y/N, not that I’m complaining, but what brought this on?”
“Wanted to make you feel good and rested. Needed you.”
He gave an airy laugh. “And this helping me rest?” Before you could make him cum, he pulled you away from his cock. “Am I allowed a request?”
You smiled softly. “Of course, baby. What do you want?”
A second later, he was tugging your sweatpants off. His were tossed to the floor too. Then you were sitting on his abdomen while his hands slid up under your sleep shirt to your breasts. You rocked back and forth across his stomach. Each time his length trapped between your bodies twitched, you shivered, making Dick all the more eager in his pinching of your nipples. Your shirt joined the pile.
Dick guided you to finally sink down on him. Both of you gave a series of stuttered sighs until there wasn’t any more space between your thighs and his hips. You began to rock. Feeling him bump against every inside inch of you. Whimpering as his grip on your hips guided you up so he could thrust. You braced on his chest, clawing and shuddering.
“That’s it, Y/N. Ride me. It’s my turn to make you feel good. Need you,” he whined.
Jumbled sounds fell through your parted lips. From under your lidded eyes, you could see Dick doing his best to hold onto his composure. Waiting for you. You bounced harder, racing to catch up.
“Don’t fight it, baby,” you said. “I’m so close.”
He sucked on his thumb and took it to your clit. You went rigid and cried out. He followed you shortly, tightening his grip on your hips and holding you down to feel every burst of his cum inside you. When he was spent, he helped you fall back to your side of the bed. You ignored how sweaty your bodies were and did your best to lay as close to him as you could.
Dick’s phone pinged. He groaned rolling over to it but reading it changed his mood. “Thank you, Cassandra.” He left it on the nightstand and turned back to you, curling you into his chest. “She’s back in town and Bruce says she’s got my shifts today.”
You bit your lip. “So… you get to be home all day?”
He heard the hopeful twinge to your voice. “I do.” A grin spread across his face, spreading further to yours. “Do you want waffles for breakfast?”
As lovely as that sounded… “can we sleep for a few more hours? Waffles for lunch?”
Dick kissed the tip of your nose. “Of course.” He smirked. “Only if I get to wake you up this time.”
Marvel: Bucky Barnes, Erik Killmonger, Kevin Ford, Loki, Steve Rogers, and Ulysses Klaue
Supernatural: Dean and Sam Winchester, Castiel, and Lucifer
WWE: 205 Live, Baron Corbin, Buddy Murphy, Cesaro, Elias Samson, Finn Balor, Jack Gallagher, Mojo Rawley, Neville, Noam Dar, Roman Reigns, Sami Zayn, Samoa Joe, Sheamus, Tommaso Ciampa, and either Uso.
I can write more characters as they are requested (like I have for Elliot Spencer, Eggsy Unwin, Sherlock, Tim McGee, and Tony DiNozzo).
Please let me know at any time if you would like to be added to a tag list. (By request or personal message.) And you can request a fic about anyone on this too! You don’t have to be shy. My only uncrossable lines are underage readers (18+ only) underaged characters, ships, or cheating. I try to write for you guys as much as I write for me.
Note: There was supposed to be more to this, but the week got away from me. If you’d like there to be a smutty part two, let me know. Any other thoughts, comments, and ideas can be sent to my requests, which is open for business. So is my tag list for a bunch of fandoms. Enjoy!
When he walked in, he immediately stood out like a perfect target. The swagger was like something pulled out film noir. A bad one. And the “tattoos?” Even temporary tats should be applied over a few days so they don’t all look fresh, ignoring how fake they looked.
He blustered up to the bar and waved you over. You groaned.
“A martini, please. Sh-“
“I swear, if you say the Bond line I will kick your ass myself.” You made him the drink quickly, eyeing everybody that was eyeing him. He paid for it then and left a great tip. “Honey, that’s sweet and all, but you really don’t belong here.”
He nodded and took a sip. “I agree this is not my typical drinking destination. But I’m looking for someone.” The bar instantly went silent. The man continued on like nothing had changed. “He’s about six-two, balding, has a four-leaf clover tattoo cut through by a scar on his left shoulder, is wearing a bright blue shirt, and has a really bewildered look on his face right now.”
A man fitting that description stood at a back-corner booth. “Who’s lookin’ for ‘im?” He was a local gangster known for sneaking ammunition in and out of the city. Cináed by name.
The rookie didn’t look back. “Oh, a few people. But just me at the moment.” He finished his drink and swiveled around on his bar stool. “I was wondering if we could talk.” He reclined against the bar as Cináed’s men left their table and formed a circle around him.
“One more time,” Cináed growled, “who’s askin’?” His hand reached under his coat. “Everybody out!” He made eye contact with you. “Sorry, miss.” He pulled out a wallet and dropped a large fold of cash on the counter. “For your missed tips. This is your place, so you can stay and keep an eye on it. We’ll try not to get it too messy.”
You swallowed. “I’d appreciate that.” The last of the patrons filed out. You left the bar and went around collecting glasses. You cleaned them at the far end of the bar, straining your ears to hear what they were saying.
“I just want to talk. I heard about a little somethin’ you did on thirteenth street. Wanted to meet the mastermind.” He sighed and put his hands up as a goon patted him down. He bit down on his lip when the goon fumbled with the bottom of his shirt. “I can explain-“
“Officer Richard Grayson.”
Several guns clicked and cocked into place. Cináed pointed his ready piece at the officer’s head.
“What did you want to know, officer? ‘Cause you’re talkin’ to the wrong guy.”
“Am I? My apologies.” Grayson tried to stand up but was forced back down. “It was beautifully done. I thought perhaps it was your brother, but we found one of your prints at the scene. Unless he’s framing you.” He leaned back further as Cináed pushed his gun into his forehead.
“Is that so?”
“Boys,” you called out. “Don’t make a mess in my bar.”
Cináed nodded and stepped back. “My apologies, miss. Listen, Officer, even if my sweet kid brother was tryin’ to frame me… there wouldn’t be evidence. Try Okada. He keeps encroaching on my turf with his sales. If I’m out of the way, he gets twenty square blocks. Got it?”
Grayson nodded. “That’s what I needed to hear.” He licked his lips and looked around. “Do I get to pass this along to my superiors?”
The boss shared a look with the man to his right. He jutted his chin and the men started to leave, paying for their drinks on the way out. Cináed was the last out. “Get home safe, miss.” The bell over the door chimed on his way out.
The officer drew his hand across his face. He turned around to you. “Can I get a-“
“We’re closed.”
When you got home, your boyfriend was waiting for you.
“Did you really have to be so dramatic?” You dropped your purse and escaped your shoes. “And what’s with the tattoos? They look terrible.”
Dick was laying on the couch shirtless. He smiled brightly. “Welcome home to you too. I got what I needed.”
“Mmm. And you almost got shot for the trouble.”
You avoided his grasp on the way to the bedroom. He groaned and chased after you. He didn’t catch you until it was just the two of you and your skivvies. You helped make it even by pushing down his sweatpants. When he leaned in to kiss you, all he got was air.
“I’m mad at you. You almost got yourself killed.” You stopped him from saying more with a kiss of your own. “I could have lost you. Right in front of my eyes.” You covered up his excuses with more desperate kisses. He hissed as you dug your nails down his back. He was there. You could feel him. He was okay.
Dick pulled you down to sit in his lap on the bed. “Hey. I’m okay.” He nuzzled into your neck. “I won’t promise anything because I can’t, but nothing is going to happen to me. Or you. Okay?” He pulled you ask close as he could. “I’m here. Safe.”
You leaned back with a chuckle. “Safe? Honey, you are stuck in this room with me. A very scared and horny me.” You licked your lips as he tilted his head.
“Did… did me staring down that guy turn you on?”
“A bit. Yeah.” You straddled his hips.
It was a lovely night, though you made sure he understood that if he almost blew your cover again, there would be serious consequences. Drowsily you played with the ink across his chest.
“You gotta get rid of the tats, babe. They are so fake.”
“What, you don’t like them? I even got one inspired by you.” Dick turned onto his stomach so you could see the rose between his shoulder blades.
“Fine. If you do ever go for it, you can get something like that.” You laughed when he tried to crawl back over top of you. “Nuh-uh. We’re closed.” You pushed him off and curled your back into his chest. It wouldn’t be long before circling your hips would inspire him to convince you to stay open.
Jason is mid-mission when his wife calls him to meet her at the hospital.
Pairing: Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings/Promises: pregnancy, giving birth (off-screen), FLUFF, new-dad Jason
Word Count: 820
Note: This was supposed to come out for father’s day, but I forgot about it with the MitB chapter of Family Found. And I don’t want to write it and just queue it for next year, so here it be. If you really like it, please share it with your friends. Enjoy!
In the alley below, the side door to a jewelry business was barely illuminated by the street light. Nightwing hovered above on the neighboring building. He glanced over the rest of the alley, but couldn’t see anything but shadow.
“Can you see me?”
“No. If I was supposed to, you wouldn’t be asking.” Nightwing chuckled. “How’s Y/N doing?”
“Ready to pop any day now.” Red Hood paused and Nightwing could hear him reconsidering what he’d said. “Do not tell her I said that.”
Nightwing snorted. “How often have you gotten in the doghouse for-“ He broke off as the alarm sounded and the side door burst open. “The race is-“
“On it.”
Two people came out of the door and flattened themselves against the wall. The cops were still miles away, and Nightwing stayed aloft to see how dramatic his partner could be. Coast clear and itching with adrenaline, the perps rushed for the only exit. Red Hood stepped out of the shadow, blocking their path.
“In a hurry? Why don’t you-“ his pocket began to ring with your ringtone. “Would you… excuse me, please? Hello?”
What was he doing? Nightwing watched amused as Red Hood answered his phone, the two robbers frozen in place.
“Jason,” he heard over the coms. Your voice was strained. “It’s happening. Get over here. It’s happening! Now!”
“Oh no,” he mumbled. “Sorry guys, gotta go. Nightwing, you’ve got this, right?” Jason was on his bike in seconds.
“Yep. How lucky were you guys?” He dropped to finish the arrest. “Dodged Red Hood only to get snatched up by me?”
He stayed on the line with you the whole time. Alfred ended up driving you to the hospital, but Jason helped keep you mostly calm enough to do the breathing exercises. “In and out, sweetheart.” His breath whistled with his own in and out. “Keep going, Y/N. I’m here. We’ve got this.”
The proud panic in his voice made you smile. It only lasted for a second before a sharp contraction made you cry out. You heard him curse and the sound of his engine getting pushed to the limit.
Alfred took your hand. “Just a little further Ms. Y/N. We’re almost there.”
“I’m going to meet you at the door.” Through the call, you heard cars honking at him.
“Jason,” you pleaded, “you can be late if you get here safely. I want you there in one piece.”
Alfred pulled into the emergency entrance of the hospital. Jason came speeding around another corner and parked his bike in the bushes. He opened the door and tossed his helmet, jacket, and guns into the floorboard at your feet. He lifted you out and carried you towards the doors.
“Let’s get you two inside.” He held your hand as the nurses inside loaded you into a wheelchair and hurried you to a delivery room. You would have laughed to see him wearing scrubs over his gear, but the contractions were hitting faster. “I’m here, Y/N. I’m here.”
Your child was beautiful. Already you could tell they were going to have dark hair like Jason. Their fingers curled around the tip of your pinkie and squirmed in their sleep. Jason stood at your side, stroking your hair and occasionally kissing the top of your head. He thought they looked like you. You thought they looked like both of you.
The nurse noticed your eyes drooping and handed your baby to Jason after sitting him down. You laid back and fought off sleep for a little while longer. Jason was smiling. At your child. At you. It was a small smile, but every emotion he was feeling glowed on his face. You were just drifting off to sleep when he started whispering to them.
“Your mom’s worn out, but we can talk for a bit right? Welcome to Gotham, kiddo. It’s full of crazy and darkness. But for you, it’s also full of family. All your uncle and aunt robins, and Bruce. Does that make him grandpa? He’ll love that. And Uncle Alfred is family too. Then there’s me. Your dad.” Jason sighed. “Heads up, I’m not perfect. None of us are, but you’ve got the best village Gotham has to offer.”
You cracked your eyes open and saw Jason moving his finger back and forth with their fist curled around it.
“I’m not going to let anything or anyone hurt you. Or your mom. You two are my world.” Jason leaned down and kissed the top of their head. “Goodnight. We’ll be here when you wake up. We’ll always be here. I promise.”
Jason handed them to the nurse to take to the nursery, then saw you watching him. You scooched over so he could join you on the cot. He kissed each of your eyelids, then your lips. You barely heard him through the haze of sleep.
Y/N, known to the world as Starhawk, and Nightwing help save the live of a pathologist. Life is going well and her niece is visiting, but finding the truth of who hired the assassin leads to some frightening developments.
Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings/Promises: some fluff, heck of a lot of angst, deadly influenza threat, violence, blood, needles
Word Count: 3900 (longer than usual, more to say this time)
Note: Oh my God, you guys are going to hate me. Besides the obvious, please let me know what you think about the fic. Requests open. Tag lists open.
Blair Bones shoved the second magazine into his gun. The lab was covered in broken glass and leaking chemicals. He avoided bumping into anything as he stepped closer to his target. The scientist was huddled in the last available corner.
“I’ll give you anything you want,” he said, raising his hands in surrender.
“But you don’t have anything I want.” Bones cocked the gun.
“Then why are you doing this?”
Bones smirked. Always that question. “Because someone wants you out of the way.”
Nightwing smirked as the last set of handcuffs clicked into place. The would-be robbers were barely conscious. One was snoring.
“Is that the last of them?” You rightened the last file cabinet and straightened the pencils on the desk. The scientist who belonged to the office had called you several days ago about a possible break-in. And that another might occur. Which it did, but this time you and Nightwing were ready.
“Yes.” Nightwing signaled on his com, “Robin, order ready for pick-up.”
“Cops there in two. See you when you’re done.” Tim left the coms.
You leaned against the wall. “Two minutes. Topic or front door delivery?” Nightwing shook his head back and forth considering.
“As much as I would like to shoot the breeze, why don’t we-“ Both of you froze as gunfire filled the air. “Speaking of shooting… you guys, don’t go anywhere.” The robbers groaned. Nightwing lead the way towards the source of the shots. He slid along the tiles into a lab, you close on his heels. It was nearly completely demolished. A broad-shouldered person had their back to you, while a smaller man huddled on the floor, pleading for his life.
The huddled man attempted to squeeze himself further into the corner. “Please, don’t!”
Nightwing drew his batons. “Hey!”
The broad-shouldered man turned, and you instantly recognized Blair Bones. Gun for hire at a cheaper rate than his skills were worth, you’d never seen him in person before. Nightwing leapt into action, engaging Bones. You ran to the scientist’s side; he was shivering, and his eyes were beginning to glaze over. Staring death in the face usually had that effect on people. You hauled him to his feet, forcing him to hurry as the sparring between Blair and Nightwing escalated. Glass shattered over your head as Bones’ attempt to shoot your partner was redirected in the scuffle. The scientist stumbled, falling behind a table. Out of the way. Safe.
You joined the scuffle, giving Nightwing time to take a breather. In the haste to get away once he realized he was outnumbered, Bones stumbled back into a window weakened by earlier gunfire. You tried to grab his vest to keep him from falling, but he fell with a cry. Nightwing rushed to your side. Below, Bones rolled to a stop. Your goggles zoomed in on a flash-drive drive that fell out of his pocket. The assassin was more focused on getting away than the evidence he left behind and ran off into the night without it. A few seconds later, blue flashing lights rounded the corner and Gotham’s best swarmed into the building to collect the earlier sting.
“Are you alright,” you asked, turning to the scientist. He nodded, shivering. Nightwing helped him to his feet. “Can you tell us why you think you were targeted?”
“I am Doctor Daniel Havran, and I’m one of the pathologists here. I’ve been developing a cure for an H6N1 influenza virus.”
While Dr. Havran continued his story, you went back to the window and shot one of your smaller grappling hooks. Soon you had the dropped flash-drive in your pocket.
Dr. Havran accepted the fire blanket Nightwing used to combat his shock. “A few weeks ago I started to receive threats to stop my work. Such threats are pretty usual for this line of work, so I thought nothing of it. Until now.” He leaned against a lab table. You and Nightwing shared a look. If the threats had been going on for a while, then the threatener had plenty of time to hire Blair Bones. And plenty of time to plan an alternate if Bones couldn’t finish the job.
Nightwing gently took the scientist’s arm. “We can have you in a safe house in five minutes. Right this way.”
Later in the Batcave, you had started to rummage through the files on the disk.
“Bones wasn’t searching for one specific thing, or he didn’t have time. Pretty much the whole office is on here.” You gestured at the screen. “Schedules, RNA strands, a list of everyone’s favorite snack. If he was there to kill Dr. Havran, why take all this too?” Dick, fresh out of uniform, stood behind your chair and rubbed his hands down your back. “And I keep seeing files for the H6N1 virus, but another one stored under that called ‘Thunderbird.’ But that’s encrypted.”
“You can worry about that one tomorrow. Right now you have a visitor about to come through the front doors.”
You were off like a shot, shedding the last of your uniform as you went. By the time you caught up with Alfred in the atrium, you looked like any other young woman your age lounging in your home. You caught your breath and waited for the doorbell. Alfred smiled at you and opened both doors as dramatically as possible to let in a little girl no taller than three feet.
“Auntie Y/N!” She ran straight into your arms, squealing as you lifted her into the air and spun her around. “This place is so big! Do you really live here? Why is the driveway so long, and how come you don’t have a mailbox? I’ve missed you much!”
“And I’ve missed you too, Wiggle Bug.” You put her down and kneeled beside her, looking up at Alfred. “Isi, this is Alfred. If you can’t find me, he’s available for all questions and raids of ice cream.” She gave him an adorable tiny wave. “Alfred, this is my niece, Isi.”
Ne kneeled down to your level and took her small hand in his for a handshake. “Nice to meet you, Miss Isi. Do you have a favorite flavor?”
Isi curled into your shoulder, suddenly shy. “Strawberry. Please.” She looked up at you.
“It’s a little late for it tonight, but…”
“Perhaps at lunch?” Alfred finished. When Isi smiled in agreement, Alfred nodded and lifted her luggage to take to her room.
She met the family next. She took to Bruce the most. How could she not? He was like a giant teddy bear around children. Tim promised to show her the best hiding places in the mansion, and Jason let her see his tattoos. She seemed to like one of the black and white ones the best, asking if she could color it in for him with markers one day. Damian helped her disappear in order to show her his new kittens for a few minutes while you filled Bruce in on the night’s events.
“Keep looking through the files. See if there is anything in an earlier, more personal folder about who might have hired him.” He nodded at Dick, who walked in on the end of the conversation, then left for the cave to start his shift.
Isi came bouncing back into the den, just in time to see Dick kiss the back of your neck. “Is he your lover, Auntie Y/N?”
Dick chuckled and buried his head into your hair. “Am I your lover, Y/N?”
“He is my boyfriend, yes. Where did you get ‘lover’ from?”
She crawled up onto the couch to fiddle with a tassel on a pillow. “Mom’s neighbors call each other that. Do you guys hug a lot too?”
“It’s getting kind of late, so let’s show you your room.” You sat Isi on your hip, who drowsily rested her head on your shoulder. You walked by Dick and rolled your eyes. The questions of a child.
While you pulled down her covers, Isi finished brushing her teeth. On her way out of the bathroom, the door closed faster than she was expecting, catching her fingers. You rushed to her side as she began to cry. She quieted down to whimpers as you blew cold air across the injured fingers. You sat her on the bed.
“I’m sorry that big door got you, sweetie.” You wiped away her tears and kissed across her knuckles. “Are you going to be okay?” She muttered something close enough to a yes. The pain must have receded a bit if she could rub her eyes with her injured hand.
“I’d be better if I could have some ice cream.”
If she wasn’t your niece she could have been your child.
“Tomorrow for lunch. I promise. Now,” you kissed her forehead and eased her back into the pillows, “it is time for you to go to sleep. Sweet dreams, Isi.”
Isi yawned. “Sweet dreams, Auntie.” She was asleep before you left the room.
Dick brought you a cup of coffee the next morning as you continued pouring over the flash-drive. “How’s it going?”
“Bruce was right. It was called ‘music money,’ but I found the list of clients. He had a few targets to go after, but Dr. Havran was supposed to be the easy one. I’ve already alerted the other targets and gotten them some protection. Oh, and” you took a sip of the coffee, humming at it’s perfection, “I talked to Havran this morning. Took me ten minutes to get off the phone for all of his appreciation.”
Dick chuckled. “He did almost die.”
“Yeah.” You scrunched up your nose in thought. “But this other virus… Thunderbird… it’s super encrypted.” You continued observing the client list, smiling when you found what you were looking for. “And look at this.” You leaned back so Dick could read the screen.
“Falcone? Seriously?” Dick opened the recording of the video agreement. Seems Bones liked keeping good records in case someone wanted to backpedal on their contract. Dick whistled. If Falcone found out that Bones had a taped hit order of his, there wouldn’t even be bones left of him. “But why a pathologist? That doesn’t sound like him.”
You nodded your head in agreement. “Let’s go and ask him. Tonight.”
The rest of the day was consumed by entertaining Isi. There was indeed ice cream at lunch, and after a private and quiet tour of Wayne Tower, there was a pizza dinner in Bruce’s office. By the time you made it back to the manor, Isi was exhausted. She also complained about her stomach hurting. You figured that last slice was too much for her small stomach. Alfred carried her to bed so you and Dick could get ready for the night’s mission.
For all of Carmine Falcone’s mob boss bravado, it was laughably easy to sneak into his office. There was one tripped signal on the way in, but you made sure the camera only saw a stray cat. You and Nightwing waited in the shadows for only a few minutes before you heard voices approaching.
“I do not want to be disturbed,” Falcone said, pushing the double doors open. “And if that buffoon Bones shows up at our door, shoot him.” He slammed the doors shut and eventually collapsed into his desk chair. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger over his eyebrows to his temples. “I know you’re in here. You’ve used the cat before.”
“Damn,” you partner grumbled under his breath. He tapped your shoulder and followed you out into the dim light provided by the desk lamp.
“Why did you hire Blair Bones?” There was no use making small talk, so you cut to the chase.
Falcone shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. I’d been paying that little lab weasel to create a new virus and antidote. I take it you’ve met?” He nodded as you both remained silent. “He became… erratic. Kept talking about a New Gotham. A new start. Originally, I was in it for the money, and for once didn’t want to kill anybody. He told me he’d found an influenza strain that was weak enough to do what I wanted: create a panic for a cure without wiping out all of my future customers.”
“That sounds a little out of the box for you, Falcone,” Nightwing said.
Falcone got up and took a small case from his bookshelf. “Agreed. But I have learned my lesson. I’ve come to believe there are more psychos in lab coats than in Arkham.” He opened the case where you could see there wasn’t a gun. Instead, there were rows of pills. He picked one, rubbing it between his fingers.
“Wait-“
Falcone swallowed the pill. For a few seconds, none of you moved. You were confused when Falcone gave a sigh of relief.
“Havran told me he had another virus. Thunderbird. Lethal and quickly spreading. I made sure he had an antidote as a stipulation for the funding. These are a few of the test trials, good for emergencies but not for duplication. Also,” Falcone sighed, “Thunderbird was going to be most dangerous to the elderly and to children.”
“A new start,” you whispered.
“Yes. The weasel infected himself the night Bones showed up. The goal was to kill him before then, though after would have worked too. Unfortunately, Bones failed in both. Because of you two.”
Nightwing stepped closer to Falcone. “How long until he is infectious?”
“You two are probably already infected. Carriers of Thunderbird.”
You swallowed hard and grabbed Nightwing’s shoulder. Children. Lethal.
Isi.
Nightwing nodded and called the safehouse from coms. Falcone shook his head when nobody answered. You walked further away and called the manor. Alfred’s words froze your blood.
“You need to get here. Now.”
You left Nightwing to deal with Falcone, racing home.
Isi’s labored breathing stopped you in your tracks. You leaned heavily against the doorframe and did your best not to cry.
“Auntie?” she rasped.
“I’m here, sweetie. I’m here.” You forced yourself to walk on solid feet to her bedside. All the way home you had replayed the incident with the smashed fingers last night. Wiping away her tears. Blowing on her fingers, which she used to rub her eyes. You fell to your knees and took Isi’s hand.
You had infected your niece with Thunderbird.
“How’s my wiggle bug feeling?” You could be strong. You could be there for her. You could fix this.
Alfred tucked in the comforter around her on the other side of the bed. “Fever. Chest pains. She was a little confused when she woke up as to where she was, but we’ve got that sorted out now.” He gave you a small smile and left you too alone.
“Alfred won’t let Damian bring me any kittens,” Isi pouted. She gave your hand a weak squeeze and let out a shuddered breath.
You tried to smile. “You don’t want to get him or the kittens sick, do you?” Isi shook her head no and closed her eyes. You placed your hand on her forehead, terrified when it was so warm. You could fix this. Isi was going to be okay. You can do this. Your ignored tears sank to make your chest hurt. As quietly as you could, you left the room. Alfred was waiting outside.
He spoke before you could get a chance. “She’s stable. And I will call you with any change.” He patted your shoulder and sent you on your way to come up with a plan.
Batman gave his blessing to you and Nightwing to finish the case. He stayed in the cave with some of your infected blood and a list of everyone either your or Nightwing came into contact with. If all else failed, perhaps he would be able to make a few calls and come up with an antidote.
The safehouse was empty and cold. That wasn’t unusual from the outside, but inside? Inside was… terrifying.
Nightwing had sent for someone earlier to check on the guard. He was alright but was being held in quarantine. The atrium showed the struggle from where Dr, Havram attacked him after inviting him in for coffee. There was glass from a shattered vase, a tangled rug that tripped the guard, and an empty injector gun. You audibly gasped at the sight of the kitchen. Crystalline glasses and hot plates had been transformed into make-shift chemical equipment. Papers obliterated with writing covered every other available surface. Where Dr. Havran had run out of paper, more formulas and ramblings were written on the walls.
“Here,” Nightwing said, pointing out a line of text. It was written in larger letters and seemed to be burned into the wall. “With death comes rebirth.” Nightwing grit his teeth. “I am really starting to not like this guy.”
In one notebook you found addresses of other labs scattered between other ramblings. The whole notebook was written backward to only be read while standing in front of a mirror, like Da Vinci’s notes. But that’s what the high-tech goggles were for. With a quick check on a map of Gotham, you found the one that was closest to the safehouse location. It was dying apartment complex across the road from a school that taught almost all of Gotham’s underprivileged children.
Your body vibrated, your nerves hovering between checking every nook and cranny for anything about how to save Isi and rushing to the lab to take from the source. The stay was only a few minutes, though it felt longer. You were glad to be off when the apartment complex came into view. A man sleeping by the stairs said that a ‘crazy dude in a white coat’ had kicked everybody out a month ago by claiming the building was condemned. Technically it was, but the ‘imminent threat’ of collapse seemed to convince everybody this time around. The man even knew what floor he was on.
Once inside the building, it was not difficult to find the spare lab. Dr. Havran had taken over what had been a promising renovation for a community study hall. Most of the 80’s computers had been thrown into the hallway, their broken screens illuminated by the harsh lights freed from their lampshades. The desks had been pushed together to similarly resemble the kitchen at the safehouse.
In the center of it all, Dr. Havran was peering through a glove-case finalizing a vial. While the exterior was being disinfected by a small motor mist, he freed himself of the gloves and stepped back with a chuckle.
“So Falcone tipped you off that I’m unstable? You wouldn’t have been here for another few hours at the earliest if he hadn’t.” He unlatched the side of the case for the vial. Swinging it back and forth, threatening to drop it, he tutted at your attempts to rush him. “I wouldn’t if I were you. This is the only collection of a viable antidote. If I drop it, it won’t survive outside of the glass. You’ll need an injector gun, much like this one. Oops.” Dr. Havran held up the tool with a grin, then smashed it onto the floor. The delicate muzzle shattered on impact.
A shiver of anger crawled up your spine. There had to be another way to use the antidote. You had to keep him talking.
“Then what?” you asked. “You infect the school. The children take it home to their parents who take it to their coworkers who take it home to their children.” Stepping around a table, you moved slowly towards him. “You wipe out a generation, all for nothing.”
“No, not for nothing,” he cooed. “Like mushrooms from dead trees or fresh fields from volcano ash, with death comes rebirth. Gotham will be an example to other cities that it must care for its children more than they are doing now. Make new laws, cast old ones out. Gotham will be the epicenter of rebirth.”
You growled, “innocent children. Did you lose someone? A son or daughter, or a niece or nephew?”
Dr. Havran shook his head in confusion. “Why do I need to be connected with the persecuted to see the need? To help them?”
It was twisted. You had heard enough. And had distracted him enough for Nightwing to circle behind him. He grabbed the vial and sent the scientist to his knees with a flick of his baton. Nightwing placed the vial in the belt clip-on made exclusively for vials to keep them from breaking. He turned to rush back to the manor, but Dr. Havran grabbed his ankle. Nightwing cried out as he fell and found himself under the doctor’s mad attack.
Rushing forward, you kicked Dr. Havran’s claw-like hands away and descended on him yourself. He reached back under the desk and pointed the found gun at your face. You rolled away barely evading the bullets that impeded themselves in the furniture around you. When you fell out of sight, Dr. Havran turned his attention back to Nightwing, shooting at him too.
For a scientist with terrible aim, he had both of you pinned down pretty well.
“How desperate are you for the cure, Starhawk? Nightwing? Who did I infect through you? A son or daughter? A niece?”
Your rage boiled over. With a scream that revealed that he had hit his mark, you flipped over the cabinet covering you. Arms outstretched and hands ready to claw out his throat, your anger blurred your vision too much to see the handful of long-needled syringes aimed at your chest. You gasped as the needles pierced through your suit and snapped off from their shafts. They stuck out of your chest like darts in a bar.
Dr. Havran took your pause of shock to break away. He almost made it to the door when Nightwing’s grappling rope wrapped around his ankles. Nightwing was on him in a second, handcuffing his wrists tightly. He broke a glass pill filled with sleeping smoke under his nose ensuring that he would asleep long enough to transport him to Arkham.
“Havran secured, Batman. Send in the blues and we’ll be home soon.” He rounded the corner with that smile he always wore when a crisis was averted. It fell away when he saw the needles. “No, no, no, no. Hang on.” He moved to kneel by you, but you waved him off.
“Isi. Get to Isi.” One or more must have pierced deep enough to your lungs because each breath felt like you were being stabbed over and over again. “Please. Isi.” You pleaded with your eyes, not trusting your voice not to betray the pain you were in.
He nodded. With one more glance to the blood seeping over your suit, he ran out of the building. Over the coms, you heard him tell Batman he was on his way. Faintly you heard Batman promising to meet him halfway to take the antidote to Isi. Then Nightwing could come back to you.
The windows reflected with flashing blue. The icy hot in your chest seeped further into your torso.
Isi was going to be okay. She was going to get the antidote. Isi was going to live.
Dick’s voice called you out of the sleep threatening to overtake you.
“I’m coming, Y/N. I can save you. We can fix this. You’re going to be okay. You can do this.”
Note: I tried to give blood the other day and it did not go well. The circumstances are a little different in the fic, but here’s hoping it connects with a few of you. Please let me know if it did, or if you have your own donation stories. All likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Please enjoy!
(Credit to here; I couldn’t find a better gif elsewhere. Thank you!)
A harsh white light filled your sight as you blinked. Blurry figures flittered in and out of your vision, slowly congealing into nurses as they moved around other participants. One figure hovered closer than the others. They were saying something but hearing and understanding took a few more seconds.
“Y/N? Wake up, please. Can you hear me? Y/N?” Dick’s face came into focus and you smiled. He was in his police uniform.
“Hey, baby. What are you doing here?” You tried to lift your hands to cup his face, but it hurt too much to lift your left arm.
Dick glanced down at your arm and kept you from moving it. “One of the guys on duty recognized you and called me on dispatch when you passed out. What are you doing here?”
“Giving blood.” Oh yeah. Lightheadedness and then darkness. “Or trying too.”
As the nurse began to check the wrap on your arm, you made the mistake of looking down. Your vision swam again seeing the quick bruising around the needle site. Dick turned your face back to look at him. His eyes glinted with a flash of panic.
“No. Breath with me.” He led you through a breathing exercise, distracting you from… everything. By the time the nurse pulled your billowy sleeve down to cover the site you were both calmer.
“You’re good to go,” she said. “We got almost a full pint, so we should still be able to use it. Thank you for trying.” She handed you an ice-cold apple juice and spoke to Dick. “Give her a few minutes before letting her up. She’s probably going to be unstable for a hot second.”
Dick shook his head as the nurse went to help another donator. “I thought you weren’t going to try again?”
“But I want to help!” You wriggled to sit up a bit, then realized how leaned back they had you. “The last time was only bad because I tried it with my right arm last time. It was too thin and…”
“And the needle went through your vein. And you were bruised for over two weeks. And you have passed out or nearly passed out every time you’ve given, if you were even successful.” He sighed and rested his forehead on yours. “I don’t want you to keep risking your health.”
You snorted. “Like you don’t do that every day wearing either of your blue uniforms. Dick, I may not be able to fight the bad guys like you do, but I can give blood every once in a while. What’s a quick nap if I can help someone?” You studied his face. “Why does this scare you so much? You know I am safe here. It’s not Gotham.”
“I know, it’s just…” Dick looked around the room. “When you pass out, there’s nothing I can do to help you. You have to wake up on your own, and that scares me.” He gave your right hand a short tight squeeze. “I can’t save you.”
He looked guilty. Like it was his fault that your body was so adamant about not giving. Like it was his fault that you hadn’t told him you were going to try again. You felt guilty for not telling him.
“How about this?” You gathered your thoughts as Dick watched you intently. “You don’t like it, but I’m just as stubborn as you are so I’m going to keep trying. But I’ll tell you next time. We’ll make a day of it. You can take me to lunch, stay with me and hold my hand during the donation, and then take care of me afterward. You can save me by making sure my system is ready.” You bit your bottom lip when Dick didn’t react at first. “Thoughts? Worries? Suggestions?”
Dick’s temples flexed as he clenched his jaw. “You’re right. I don’t like it.”
“Richard,”
“And you’re right again. You are stubborn enough to keep trying.” He thought for a few more seconds. “I understand why you want to give. And I’m glad you see my side of things.” Again he paused. You fought against holding your breath. “I’ll ask off on days you want to donate, but I would like to keep it closer to four months between donations instead of the usual two allowed.”
“So you miss less work. I can agree to that.” You smiled. Dick did too.
“Cool. I would also like to take you to a doctor to see if we can do something different so you don’t pass out.” Dick looked away and mumbled under his breath, “and if they tell you not to give, all the better. Less stress all around.”
“I heard that,” you said at the same whisper level. You giggled. “If we are in agreement… where are you taking me for lunch?”
He laughed. “How about the Mediterranean place on Fourth? They have a great lentil soup with spinach. The best iron foods in one place for a hero.”
“Sounds good.” You leaned into his touch and he ran his thumb across your cheek. “Thank you for listening to me.”
“Back at you. Now let’s see how many packages of Oreos we can get away with before they run us out of the joint.”
A Nightly Affair: (S) Nightwing keeps mistaking your apartment for his and you two grow very close. Very. Close. So close as to put you in danger, unless Nightwing can find you first. [Series Masterlist]
The Kissing Thief: (S) Y/N gets fed up with Dick Grayson hiding mistletoe all over the manor, and suggests an alternate activity. The ‘alternate activity’ continues all year. No plot, just smut and fluff. [Series Masterlist]
A mission demands the public appearance of Bruce Wayne and yourself at a theater. The mission is quickly put to rest, which leaves you plenty of time to appreciate your husband during intermission.
Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader (Y/N)
Warning: SMUT, public smut, Mr./Mrs. Kink (Is that a thing, or is it just my favorite cute trope? Either way, it’s here.)
Word Count: ~1300
Note: My first Batman smut! It was fun using the different layers between Bruce and Batman and the man in-between that loves the reader. I highly recommend looking up Lysistrata; it’s a Greek comedy with humor that still translates. You can find a good online English translation here. Please let me know if you enjoyed it with likes, comments, and reblogs. If you have any ideas for another Bruce fic, send it to me! I love challenges. And my tag lists are open. Please enjoy!
“Here are your seats, Mr. and Mrs. Wayne.” The usher pulled back the curtain in the private box to reveal two seats.
“Thank you, Robert. We’ll see you after the final curtain.” Bruce slipped the usher a tip and sat next to you.
“What’s the point of box seats, again? We can’t see half the stage?” You restrained yourself from leaning over the railing like an eager child.
“Wayne industries helped produce the show, and they want to show us off. We can come again and sit like peasants if you’d like.” Bruce’s face cracked into a grin. A real one. Not the variety that made appearances when the former playboy would make trouble.
“And Wayne industries funded a production of Lysistrata because…”
“It amuses Bruce Wayne.” He chuckled again as you shot eyebrows at him again. “The acting troupe is riddled with Music Meister’s henchmen working as techies.” Bruce tapped his earpiece and dropped his voice, “Nightwing?”
“Loud and clear. We’re in position,” you heard on your matching com.
“Good. Let me know if the missus and I have to leave early.”
“Will do. Over and out.”
Bruce took your hand as the lights flickered in the theater signaling the show was about to start. He set his public face as the lights faded out completely and the curtain parted.
Nightwing continued to check in during the first act. Even with the mission going on, you found yourself being pulled into the mission of the women in the comedic play. They all agreed to deny their husbands sex until the war between the Athenians and the Trojans was stopped. Women on both sides took the oath, much to the chagrin of the soldiers. Not half a bad idea. You found yourself laughing honestly; Bruce was doing the same. The audience broke into applause and laughter as the curtains closed on the first act. You and Bruce left the front of the box and paced the private lounge area behind the curtain.
Over the coms, you listened to the mission end as Nightwing and Damian fought off the henchmen. Meister wasn’t there, but they soon found his speakers in a back-stage storage room.
“Good job, everyone. Call me if anything happens after the police collect the Meister minions.”
“A ‘good-job’ and alliteration?” Nightwing whistled. “This play has put you in a very good mood.”
“Yes. Over and out.” Bruce tugged the com out of his ear and turned it off before dropping it his pocket. You followed suit, confused.
“Bruce?” You gasped as he pinned you to the wall. “What are you doing?”
“I’m preparing to fuck my wife,” he whispered in your ear. His hands were tight around your waist. You knew he could feel you shiver.
You licked your lips. “Oh? What gave you that idea? Surely not the play.”
“Yes, the damned play. It is humorous, but what is really getting to me is seeing you laugh for the first time in months.”
“We’ve been busy.”
Bruce’s hand dipped down to the slit in your dress, lightly running a finger over your exposed skin. “I know. Late nights where one or both of us is out doing what we do. Early mornings for our public roles.”
“Not much time for each other,” you sighed, catching on. The heat thrumming through your body started to collect between your thighs. It began to leak into your panties as Bruce hummed deeply in agreement.
“I hope you won’t make me wait ‘till all crime in Gotham is over to let me fuck you.” His eyes bored into yours. His chest caught the swell of your heightened breathing. You could never hide your tells with him. Never wanted too. “So tell me, Mrs. Wayne… how long are you going to make me wait?”
“About three seconds.”
All the women in Greece and Troy would never have been able to turn down a man like Bruce.
His fingers wove into your hair as he guided your lips to meet his. Before long, you were parting your lips for his tongue, humming in pleasure. Bruce’s hand on your thigh continued to work up under your gown. You shuddered as he grazed over your soaked panties. He kept kissing you, keeping your sounds muffled, while he dipped under the band and inserted a finger into your ready sex. He moved your skirt out of the way, baring the sight of his hand pumping in an out of you into the open. He chuckled, rightfully proud of himself.
But two could play at that game.
You reached out and lightly ran your fingers over the prominent bulge in his pants. Bruce groaned into your mouth, chuckling to match your smile.
“Y/N, you have no idea how much I love you.”
“Actually, I think I have a big idea how much you love me.” You unbuckled his pants and tugged the zipper down as slowly as you could muster. Bruce growled, then whimpered as you worked your hand over his length still covered in his boxers. “If you want it, Mr. Wayne,” you breathed into his ear while easing out his manhood, “you might want to hurry before intermission ends.”
A squeak escaped your lips as Bruce lifted you settle on his hips. He moved your panties to one side and toyed the tip at your slit, eyes glittering as you stifled a whimper. You covered your mouth to silence the impending scream when he winked. Your hand was barely enough to cover up the swell of sensations as he sheathed himself in you in one thrust. You shuddered and trembled as your walls gripped him tight. Bruce rested his forehead on yours until you nodded, then began to roll his hips. If there had been more time, endless time, he would have kept this pace till you were begging for him. Instead, he began to thrust faster and harder. You knew the curtain into the house of the theater was too thin to muffle all of your cries and moans.
You didn’t care.
Spots danced in front of your eyes as Bruce twisted in just the right way to find your perfect place. He sucked down on your pulse point, heightening every pulse of pleasure. Your nails raked down the back of his suit jacket, feeling the bullet-proof vest hidden beneath his layers. His hands gripped your thighs, careful not to cut himself on the knives you always kept strapped there. His thumb grazed the band strapping the blade to your thigh.
“My dangerous beauty,” Bruce rasped. His pace began to falter. “Mine.”
Your head lolled to one side as your orgasm came crashing down. Careful of your heels, you dug your feet into the small of Bruce’s back, drawing him impossibly further into you for his release. He came silently besides panting heavily, steadying himself on the wall. Your fingers gripped his hair tightly as he gave one last thrust.
The following kiss was sloppy, openmouthed, exhausted in the best way. Bruce pulled out carefully and steadied you till you could trust your legs to mostly support your weight.
You let out a deep breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. “Are you ready to see if the Greeks and Trojans ever got laid again, Mr. Wayne?”
“Yes.” He did that annoying thing where he fixed his sex-hair by running his finger through it. “Are you, Mrs. Wayne?”
“Yes.” You parted the curtain once the two of you were presentable as if nothing had happened. Coms were back online and in place by the time he guided you to your seat. You swallowed a smile as Bruce ran his hands down your shoulders. “Please silence your cell phones and please keep your hands to yourself,” you teased.
“No promises.”
The rest of the play was just as fantastic as the first act, and it inspired much more action once Bruce got you back to the manor. You might have to start asking for more such outings more often.
[If you’re interested in a more modern rendition of Lysistrata, there’s a fantastic movie on Amazon Prime entitled Chi-Raq. It’s set in modern Chicago and uses recent events in place of the ancient war. I highly recommend it. There is language and some nudity, not to mention high levels of sexual innuendo. Do not watch with anyone under the age of 18! I also love that they keep the idea of Greek plays being in verse by updating it to include rap. Check it out if you get the chance!]
Jason tries to persuade Y/N from moving out of their apartment.
Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings: Angst, swearing, heart pain
Word Count: 1100+
Note: I had a bad day. Didn’t feel like writing fluff to make it better.
You were packing when the door slammed. You didn’t turn to look at him. Just keep packing. Roll the t-shirts. Fold the pants.
“What is this?” Jason asked, voice cold and hurt. You ignored the slip of paper crumpled in his fist.
“Goodbye.”
“Why?”
He met you at the dresser, but you had just finished emptying it. Jason braced himself against it as you moved onto the closet and filling your duffel. Your mind swam with everything you wanted to tell him. He poured out questions.
“Is it the missions? The going out every night? The danger? What?”
You took a deep breath to keep your voice level. Even then it wavered towards the end. “No. I knew all about that months ago. I want to know where you’re going, who you’re fighting. I want to be home base, not just a warm body to hold after a winter patrol.” Another deep breath. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. “I said as much in the letter.”
He reached out to catch your arm as you walked past, but you jumped away as if his fingers would brand you.
“Y/N, please. Just… sit down, so we can talk about this.”
“Now you want to talk?” You threw the clothes onto the bed and spun to face him. “You are too tired at night to talk. Asleep in the morning when I make breakfast. Gone on patrol before I finish. Then you sit on rooftops all day hacked into the Batman’s coms for something to do. There is no room to breathe around you, Jason!”
“No, you know that is not the whole truth” Jason held up a hand and then pointed at you. “I know what you’re going to say next. We have discussed that. At length. I’m not pulling you into this any more than I already have.”
“Bullshit. You’ve told me before I’m as good a hacker as Dick. I’ve held my own against Damian in sparring, something even you have trouble doing. And I’m still human enough to see the big picture when you or Bruce can’t. If you guys are even talking to one another.”
Jason rushed forward and gripped your shoulders. “That’s what I’m worried about. I don’t want you to lose that. Not like I have.”
Don’t you do it. Not the face. I refuse to just bend because you pull the face. Don’t you dare?
With a sigh, his shoulders slumped. His hands slid down your arms till he could hold your hands in his. It could be the hottest summer on record and his would feel like ice. You looked out the window, at your suitcase, at the empty dresser and closet. But he tilted up your chin so he could look into your eyes. So you squeezed them shut.
He chuckled under his breath, “and I’m the stubborn one.” He rubbed thumb across the side of your cheek. “Please open your eyes, Y/N.”
No. No. No. No. No.
You cracked them just enough to satisfy him, but it was enough to get pulled into his. How deep they were. How much the toll of death and missions had taken out of him over the years. They were the eyes of a soldier who’s seen too much. Broken.
“I don’t want you to get hurt, or killed, or…” he started. You let him squeeze your hands while he worked out the words. “I don’t want you to lose that spark of life in your eyes. The way you smile when it rains. How you grumble under your breath when people walk slowly in the park or at the grocery. The way you hum pleasantly in your sleep. You are perfect, Y/N. I can’t risk destroying you.”
You ripped your hands out of his.
“And how destroyed will I be the night you don’t come back? I don’t want to be in the field with you, Jason! I want to have your back from here. You won’t let Dick or Bruce in, why not me? I want to be able to talk with you during a patrol. I want to hear you laugh as you bring justice to this God forsaken city. I want to be here to patch you up so you don’t have to do it in an alley somewhere before you come home.”
“I’m a different man out there, Y/N.” Jason stepped back from you, voice low and different than anything you heard from him before. “I’m harder. Cruel. You might hear a man on coms that you’ve never met before. I know you. You hold the weight of the world on your shoulders when you can’t help your elderly neighbor bring her groceries up the stairs. You are too kind and bright to listen to me at my darkest.” He clenched and unclenched his fists till his voice cracked back to normal. “I don’t bring it home because I need the light you have. I need the reminder that humanity is good. If you see the depravity like I do, I won’t be able to claw our way out.”
He needs me. Oh God, help me. He needs me. I can’t stay. I can’t keep living like this. But he needs me. I’m going to worry about him no matter what apartment I live in. Distance might help. But he needs me. If we can’t be broken together, then he can be broken by himself, like he was before. But he needs me. I pulled him back from that edge.
He needs me. He needs me. He needs me.
Your phone buzzed in your pocket. The taxi was here to drive you to your new place across town.
“The taxi’s here, isn’t it?”
You nodded.
“Across town?”
“What makes you think I’m staying in this city? I’ve got college friends in Star City.”
You could feel him shifting his focus between the phone and your face. You were worried he would call your bluff.
“Please don’t go.”
He needs me.
But I don’t need him.
“I have to go.” You quickly zipped the cases shut and stacked them to leave in one trip. You didn’t look back all the way down the hall, or down the stairs, or shoving the suitcases into the trunk of the taxi. But you took one last look before getting in.
He was standing in the window. Blinds parted. Like he’d done when you moved in. He kissed two of his fingers and pressed them to the glass. You didn’t kiss back. You didn’t look back as the taxi drove away.
I don’t need him. I don’t need him. I don’t need him.
Valentine’s fluff between Dick Grayson and the Reader.
Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader, appearances by Jason, Cass, Tim
Warnings: food mention, fire hazard, language, implied smut
Word Count: ~650
Note: Just a quick fic. I figured there would be plenty of smut out there, so I’m trying to write fluff this time. Leave a comment, like, and reblog to let me know how I did. Get ready for butterflies.
Part 1: Mistlefoe Part 2 : A Glitering Celebration
As much as you loved the game, today was not the day that you wanted to play hide-and-seek. With your ankle now healed, Dick could hide anywhere in the city. You’d found him twice already, only to see him jump across another rooftop with his laugh to hide someplace else.
Bruce messaged you that it was Tim’s turn to patrol. You gratefully sighed and hoped on the bike before speeding back to the manor.
A Hershey kiss hung where your keys usually did.
You knew what he was doing. It was no secret what time of the year it was. You even knew where’d he be laid out, waiting for you. You giggled as you unwrapped the kiss. He could wait a minute.
After you changed out, you were a little unnerved when Jason snickered as you walked past. He didn’t look up from his phone when you shot him a look. Then you heard Cass screech. Running into the kitchen you were overrun with roses and balloons.
“Please tell me Dick’s gonna let you share?” she begged. Already she had a hand on a heart-shaped box, one of many that obliterated the table.
“Knock yourself out,” you chuckled. You grabbed the one box with a kiss taped to the top and left the rest for the family. As you unwrapped it, the tag on the top filled the foil. The usual blue writing was covered up with other text too small for you to read.
There was another kiss waiting for you in the library next to the magnifying glass. It’s tag said “use me,” making you giggle.
“I love your lips when they’re wet with wine
And red with a wild desire;
I love your eyes when the lovelight lies
Lit with a passionate fire.
I love your arms when the warm flesh
Touches mine in a fond embrace;
I love your hair when the strands enmesh
Your kisses against my face.”
You placed your hand on your heart. He was quoting, but it was still beautiful. You dug the first tag out of your pocket to see if there was a message there as well. “Lay me down where stars play, lay me down where my lover lays.” Not Robert Frost, but he got his point across.
Tim was back from his patrol. His brow scrunched in confusion when he saw you. “Y/N, I just heard you in your room?”
“Was my voice unnaturally high pitched?”
He thought for a moment before saying, “yeah. I thought maybe you’d caught a cold.” He thought for another second. “Were you not the one who screeched earlier over the coms?”
“Cass. There’s a table full of chocolate. You can have some if you…” he was gone before you could finish. With a labored sigh, you stood outside your door. You counted to twenty, just to see if he would ask you to come in. But he’s just as stubborn as you are.
The room was dark. You flipped the switch, but it did nothing. A single flame lit in the middle of your room. It hovered down and lit a candle. The flame spread till there were at least twenty candles lit surrounding your bed.
“Happy Valentine’s day Y/N,” Dick said from over your shoulder. He pulled you close and kissed your temple.
“If Alfred saw this, he’d never trust you with another…” Dick silenced you with another kiss. This one was deeper, made your heart swell, and ignited the heat beneath your stomach. You pulled him closer and found your stomach rubbing up against something hard. Dick let out a shuddered breath as you wiggled closer to him. “Dick, are you…”
He stepped back, letting you see the candle flames dance across his chest and over the red ribbon.
“Do you want to open your last present?”
Chocolate be damned; he knew exactly what you wanted.
Our Deepest Desires 