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wally west being too shy to send you any pics when you first start dating, so instead he waits until it’s three in the morning—a reasonable time for you to be asleep already—so that he can forget about it until the next day, when you'd wake up with a "wish u were here :(" text and beautiful video of your boyfriend fisting himself to you and send your response afterwards.
he doesn't expect you to actually still be awake and for said response to arrive only two minutes after his video was sent, but the embarrassment doesn't last him too long, your positive feedback leaving him eager for more and his dick harder in his hand, even worse once the notification of a pic of your own arrives too.
with the knowledge that you're still awake and missing him just as much, both of you unable to sleep and now turned on by the conversation, he's immediately speeding off to your place, so that he can fuck to exhaustion and you can both tend to your needs, to finally find sleep in his warm embrace after those sleepless hours.
Summary & CW: fluff, suggestive content, on a mission, established relationship, batfam dynamic, crack fic, pride & prejudice mention, catwoman protégé!reader, second person, no use of y/n
Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1.5k
A/N: Another piece out the Kiln! Thank you to @inesvisible for requesting, I had sm fun with this one! Inspired by that one youtube video (it’ll make sense at the end). I hope you enjoy my lovelies
“How much you wanna bet that Bruce and Selina are making out on some rooftop right now?”
“You know, I’d really rather not.” Jason’s face contorts in disgust. Anything that involved thinking of Bruce and his dating life always made him squirm, it was hysterical.
They were all like that. All the Robins viewed Bruce as this ancient fatherly figure. To you, he’s just Bruce. Maybe it was because of all the times you caught him doing the walk of shame from Selina’s room, but it never bothered you to talk about it.
Selina was more… open when it came to her romantic life. A lot more open than Bruce you were willing to bet.
It was so different than to how they were raised. Bruce was a father to them, he was this brooding figure who relished in seriousness. Selina was like an older sister to you, she taught you how to take a shot without reacting.
“I didn’t have pegged you for such a virgin Jason.”
He freezes, burger halfway in his mouth and turns to you. A deadpan plain on his face.
“You know I’m not a virgin.”
“Oh? Do I?” He was so fun to tease, especially when that one eyebrow on his face rose. Danger dancing across the arch.
“Oh I would hope so.” He decides to start playing back. “Otherwise I’m going to have to have a long conversation with who left that hickey on your thig-”
“Aaaaaaand that’s enough you two.” Dick’s voice rings through the comms. “We have minors on this line.”
You snort and Jason rolls his eyes from where he’s sitting next to you.
“While I find there topic of discission crude,” Damian starts to pitch in. Obviously offended that his age is a discriminating factor for the conversation. “Todd and his special friend need not to shy away the topics of sexual intercourse for my sake, Grayson. They ought to do it to retain some level of decency.”
Damian starts squabbling with Dick on their own end your gaze shifts sideways to Jason, his eyebrows are twisted together in amusement. He meets your eyes and you mouth “special friend” to him. And that devastating Jason Todd grin breaks out on his face, the one that had angels singing and clouds parting. It’s toothy and too big for his face, too innocent for the scars.
He shrugs and mouths back, “improvement.”
It’s your turn to bite back a laugh and your neck strains from the grin.
Muting yourself from the comms this time, you scrunch your nose to get his attention. “Circling back to my initial question,” he groans. “How much would you be willing to bet I’m right.”
“I don’t want to play this game.” He grumbles into his burger after muting himself.
“Too bad.”
Huffing out a breath as if this question has personally wronged him, he ponders for a moment . “If they aren’t,” he pauses. “I’ll do dishes for next two weeks.”
Jason Todd rarely complained about household chores with you. He loved the domestic side of life you gave him in breaths stolen from Gotham. A secret part of his heart warmed when he caught himself wondering if he took the trash out on Tuesday mornings, or if he picked up the almond milk for you coffee at the corner store, or if he remembered to move the clothes from the washer to the dryer. It was the simple little things that were now intertwined in his life that reassured the quiet peace fate finally granted him.
However, washing dishes was the exception.
He’d dry them, put them away, reorganize them anyway you wanted. But he hated washing them.
So you met him halfway. After all, he did essentially everything else.
“That’s big from you.” It comes out like a tease and he sticks his tongue out at you.
“I don’t see him doing that stuff on patrol.” That’s when you knew you won. It’s unfair, but you’d heard stories form Selina. Stories that assured you, you were right. “He’s too anal about this stuff- patrol is life or death for him.”
When you hum noncommittedly, he scoffs. “You start patrolling with us one year ago and you think you have us all figured out.”
“Maybe I do.” You answer, your voice light and fun in the way that draws him in. “If I win, you have to do anything I want tonight.”
“How is that different from any other night?”
Those words land somewhere you don’t want to name. It’s true. He never told you no. Jason had spent his whole life pushing back against people, challenging them, yet he never did that with you. In small everyday moments maybe, it was to be expected; to grow together, it was necessary. Yet when push came to shove, Jason Todd was at your beck and call and always said yes.
“You’ll see.” Is all you offer him when you unmute the call.
“Oracle,” your voice cuts through Dick, Damian, Tim, and now Steph’s bickering.
“I don’t like the tone of your voice.” Barbara’s voice sing songs through the earpiece.
Jason’s eyes stay locked on yours with a squint. “Can you do me a favor?”
“Depends on what it is.”
“What’re Bruce and Selina doing right now?”
A smirk pulls at your lips and Jason starts shaking his head when the click-clacking of Barbara’s computer sounds through the speakers. A deep sigh from her is the sound of victory for you.
“I don’t think you want to know.”
“Oh I think I do.” The remaining gang of bats that was on the line start yelling protests when they hear the grin in your voice.
“BABS NO-”
“PLEASE DON’T-”
“I’m going to be disappointed aren’t I?”
“FREAKS! ALL OF YOU-”
Jason’s snickering while accepting defeat. Then, Barabara’s voice rings like a melody in your ears.
“They’re… otherwise engaged on a rooftop off eleventh and Washington.” Her words are chosen carefully and muffled groans echo after her.
“Thank you lovely.” Your voice is sweet as honey and Jason’s still shaking his head next to you.
“Do I even want to know why you asked?”
“Probably not.” And with that, you mute your mic again.
Looking over at him, even with defeat lingering in the wrinkles of his smile, he looks gorgeous. It was gut-wrenching that he didn’t see how beautiful he was. He put everyone else to shame. No one should look as heavenly as Jason Todd did with grease coating his lips and neon lighting his eyes.
Yet here he was, an angel plucked from the sky.
“Okay doll,” resignation dripping from his teeth. “What do you want me to do.”
“Oh you’re cute,” you purr. Your thumb wipes the ketchup on the corner of his mouth, his face brightening to the color of the condiment as you lick it off your finger. “You think I’m going to tell you now? Where’s the fun in that pretty boy.”
He scoffs with no heat behind it. Even as disbelief bleeds from his forehead, you can tell he’s exactly where he wants to be. “You’re a dangerous thing aren’t ya? We gotta put a warning label on you or something.”
“As if you’d shy away from a warning label.”
He snorts because he can’t say that you’re wrong. Nothing could ever keep Jason Todd from running back to you.
•───────•°•♡•°•───────•
“-but said not a word.”-pant- “After a silence of several minutes.” -another pause- “he came towards her in an agitated manner, -gasp- and thus began- Baby please.”
He sounds cute like this, and you’re almost tempted to grant him the reprieve he wants.
But he looked too good.
Sitting on the foot of the bed, you merely watched him. You watched as Jason Todd remained in a plank after being stripped down to his underwear. Sweat was beginning to coat his back and you’re not sure if you’ve ever seen a more divine sight.
The small black boxers were leaving little for the imagination as the book laid under his head.
“Not yet honey,” you remind him, enjoying this a little too much. “You have to finish the chapter or go until failure. And you wouldn’t fail me now, would you?”
In light of winning your bet, you decided to make your lovely boyfriend get undressed to almost nothing and read Pride and Prejudice. This was your favorite chapter, and he loved to tell you how he loved you “most ardently” all the time.
Might as well make him prove it.
Maybe it was a little cruel to make him do this after patrol. But he agreed.
“I won’t.” He’s panting like a dog starved of water.
“Then get back to reading.” You hum.
His head hangs low for a second, curls bouncing in his face. His back muscles are so defined in this position, your tempted to lick the sweat straight off him.
“In vain have I struggled. -deep breath- It will not do. My feelings will -another pant- be repressed. You must allow me -another deep breath- to tell you – a wrecked groan- how ardently I admire and love you.”
And just like that, you realize you were going to have to start betting on Selina and Bruce more often.
•───────•°•♡•°•───────•
A/N: inspired by this lovely post (asia I love you)
🍒 how talia al ghul’s love language would be like. || nothing, just headcanons. || ⋆˚࿔ how i missed writing for her. thanks for the request @bat1nsignia !!
Talia has so many ways of showing her love for others.
Her loyalty to her father is how she shows it to him. Her being there when Bruce needs is another way of showing her love. Her relationship with Damian and how much she cares about him another… But with her lover?
Talia loves giving gifts. She doesn’t need a reason for that. Valentines Day? Already got a gift. Anniversaries? Done. A very normal morning where you wake up next to her? You are woken up with a gift.
And she is so clever and creative with them, too. It’s like she knows you so well. She never runs out of ideas for presents.
Another way she shows her love for you— her beloved is her hugs.
In my opinion, Talia likes giving hugs and receiving them, too.
She finds hugs as comforting. She loves holding the body of her loved ones close to herself. She feels like she can keep them safe forever. It applies to you, also.
Every morning, expect a huge hug from her.
Also, I believe her embraces would be warm.
Since she is such a fashion icon and loves dressing in pretty clothes and dresses, another way of showing love would be shopping together.
She loves taking you out to shopping. She loves seeing you try new dresses and make her comment on each one.
And trust her comments because she won’t just say “pretty” and leave it— she will make actual criticism.
About the dress, about how it fits you, the color, the style… Everything possible. You can trust her judgement.
And of course, she doesn’t let you pay. It’s not because she thinks you are poor or cannot buy anything— it’s because she wants to. It’s just a small jest of hers.
She loves decorating her room to her liking, but when she has a lover, she wants her room to be to their liking, too.
So, she loves decorating together. Beautiful flowers, ivies, various teapots and candles…
Since I mentioned candles, I think she would think candles are such romantic accessories and would have them lit every night.
And they would be scented candles!
Also, I think she would love to play games together, such as chess.
Sometimes she would let you win to make you happy.
And another thing is bubble baths. She would love being in a bubble bath together. Kissing and drinking wine together while sitting in a bathtub full of bubbles and hot water…
And lastly!!! I think she would love braiding your hair. Or combing your hair. Or just playing with your hair… Anything that makes you relax into her arms.
At the end of the day, I imagine it would be easy to feel Talia’s love— especially if you spend so much time with her.
Can we talk about how much they whitewash talia???? Like bitch shes arab have u seen an arab white as a fucking chinese beauty standard???
okay i always think about this so i will rant under it!!
talia’s whitewashing have been a problem but i think the problem is not her having light skin, because arabs can be pale. pale skinned arabs do exist!! the problem with her skin color is that when she helps the plot in a good way, for example when she helps batman, she has pale skin. when she is a villain in the story she has darker skin. this is actually what disturbs me. not her having pale skin or dark skin, i am fine with both,, but i get sick when i see her skin color change according to when she is “good” or “evil”
for example in no man’s land storyline she has pale skin and white features and she helps bruce in this one:
when i first saw her i didnt think she was talia lmao. and i always can guess even from her shadow.
another example is talia in tom king’s run. talia appears in these issues and starts a fight with selina— which is a ridiculous plot to mention.
and as you can see she is depicted as a brown skinned woman— in a story where she is told as evil and jealous ex.
in her first appearances, she was also depicted as pale and she was a much more different character than she is now. she was passionate, brave, loyal, loving and caring and she was not afraid to cry in front of people. she was so well with her emotions. and she was such a colorful person.
in shadow war, she was depicted as a brown skinned woman and she was neither good or weirdly evil. she was morally ambiguous mostly. i liked this depiction of her more, esp when we consider how her depiction have been since 2000s
in one of my favorite talia stories, batman chronicles #8, she was depicted as pale skinned and personally i have no problem with that. she is an arab chinese woman and both arabs and chinese people can be pale and dark skinned. this “color skin range” is not just one stereotypical thing. in a lot of regions throughout the world, it changes.
and another example is gotham city sirens (16-19 ? not sure) in the cover she has paler skin but in the story itself she is brown and eventually (spoilers) we learn that she had evil intentions.
so personally, it might not be my place to talk about this since i am neither arab or chinese let alone being an arab chinese woman, i dont have any problem when she is depicted as pale or dark skinned; the problem is her being “evil” while she is brown skinned and “good” when she is pale skinned. for me, her skin color shouldnt keep changing according to the stories because imo that’s racist af. i hate it when writers decide her skin color according to her intentions.
thank you for bringing this up i needed to yap about it
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YOUR ORACLE . ⋮ being apart from barbara for a mission leaves you desperate for her voice. based on this request ⋮ pairing ! barbara gordon x fem!reader cw ! phone sex, switch!babs and switch + subtop! reader, slight dumbification, guided masturbation, mentions of girlcock. ⌗ nicknames used : baby, sweetheart, slut, puppy. ⌗ so self indulgent good lord please bear with me 😭 also dialogue heavy....
The safehouse in Blüdhaven was quiet except for the low hum of the city outside the window. It had been one long week and nine days of chasing leads across state lines only to end up here, stealthing again for more information.
Dinah and Helena had caught a wrench in their latest lead on the outskirts of the city — swearing they didn’t need backup — while you were left behind, racking your brain on what you all already had to work with. You were exhausted.
The comms link was supposed to be for mission updates only, you remembered that.
But it was late. The safehouse was quiet. And you’d been apart from her for a week and nine days, enough to be translated to a lifetime of missing your girlfriend.
“Oracle,” you murmured, keeping your voice low even though you were alone, as you slipped the tiny earpiece into your ear.
The line clicked open instantly.
“Status?” Barbara’s voice was calm, professional. It made your heart lurch against your ribcage. Oracle. Barbara. Yours.
The woman who coordinated every move from her clock tower, voice calm and commanding in your ear all night. Whatever she said, you followed and wherever she led, you went in blind and trusting.
Your lips parted with no words as the ache settled in. Sure, you’ve heard her voice over the past few days, always watching and guiding you and the girls through the mission — your eyes and ears on the outside.
But you missed her voice in your ear for reasons that had nothing to do with tactical support.
“Talk to me, baby.” Her voice softened into a coaxing whisper. You realized a little too late that your breathing had changed and given your thoughts away. Of course she caught it, when did she not?
“I’m secure. Mission’s on track. Waiting for word from the others.” You paused, rolling onto your back on the narrow safehouse bed. “I just… I really fucking missed hearing you.”
A soft laugh crackled through the comm. It was like honey on a cold night, your skin prickling with warmth. “You’re hearing me right now.”
You sighed. “You know what I mean, Barbie.”
She nearly melted. “I know... I miss having you here too,” she confessed. “The tower’s too quiet without you trying to distract me from my monitors.”
“Is that all I am now?” You teased. “A distraction?”
On the other end of the line you heard a few clicks, her keyboard. “Oh, so you’re needy,” she whispered. You could hear the smile in her voice — that shit eating grin when she had you right where she wanted you. “You should’ve led with that.”
“Don’t start.” You huffed, burying your face in the pillow briefly as you grumbled. “It’s been a week and nine days. You know how much I hate sleeping without you.”
There was a beat of silence. Then Oracle slipped away and it was just Babs, warm and velvety like home. “I keep reaching over for you at night,” she whispered. “Keep thinking about you. The way you kiss me… how your eyes get so teary when you need me.”
You bit your lip as it trembled. “Barbie… I’m aching for you.”
“Tell me where it hurts, sweetheart.”
You shivered. “Between my legs. I’ve been wet since I heard your voice.”
“Mmm. My poor girl. All worked up and no one there to take care of you.” Her tone shifted into that perfect commanding lilt she used when she was running point. “Tell me what you’d do if I were there right now.”
You shifted on the bed, already feeling warm under her imagined gaze. The ache in your abdomen grew hotter by the second, and you squeezed your eyes shut, recalling every curve and contour of her body as if she was right next to you.
“You’re so beautiful,” You breathed, a hand sliding down your stomach and under the waistband of your sleepwear. “I’d pull you on my lap… push those pretty panties down your thighs, and feel how wet you already are for me.” A palm hovered over your clothed cunt. “Are you wet, baby?
“I’m fucking soaked.” She exhaled slowly. “Been like this since you said you missed me the first time.”
“What are you wearing?”
Barbara stifled a giggle at the cliche, but it broke through and you scoffed in her ear. “Oh, fuck you, I’m working with what I have,” you complained. “Tell me, I wanna know.”
The smile remained in her voice, light and teasing. “That Gotham U hoodie you left here a while back.”
“Is your hair down?”
“Perv,” she huffed. “Yes. And no, I’m not wearing panties, I took them off. The glasses too.”
You let out a shaky breath, fingers finally pressing down over your clit through the thin fabric of your panties. The relief was immediate but nowhere near enough. “Fuck, Babs… you’re killing me.”
Barbara hummed approvingly. “Good girl. Spread your legs wider for me. I want you to talk to me, okay?”
You obeyed, thighs falling apart. The cool air hit your soaked cunt and you whimpered, you folds weeping as you rucked your panties down to your ankles.
“Touch your clit, baby. Slow circles. Just like I do with my tongue when I’m teasing you.”
Your fingers slid down, slick and eager. The first gentle rub made you moan her name. “Shit— Barbie…”
“I know, baby. I can hear how wet you are.” Her voice dropped lower. “I’m touching myself too. Grinding my clit into my hand thinking about that pretty pussy. You always get so desperate when you’re away from me.”
One finger on your clit turned into your index and middle, rolling the sensitive bud in figure-eights then pinching it softly between the knuckles. “So good, baby, missing your cute little tits right now… so fucking soft…”
You trembled from the memories of your time together. Barbara beneath you, her pretty tits bouncing as you suckled a sensitive nipple into your mouth.
“I miss you so much,” she rasped, the faint wet sounds of her touching herself came from the other end of the line. “I’m so fucking wet thinking about you. My good girl, touching herself for me miles away. Such a needy slut for Oracle’s voice, aren’t you?”
You whimpered, rubbing tighter circles as your other hand slid up to squeeze one of your breasts as if it was hers. Your hips bucked forward to chase the stimulation.
Barbara’s breathing was getting heavier. “Let me fuck you, puppy. Come on, two fingers inside — stretch that little pussy like I trained you.”
You obeyed instantly, sliding two fingers into your dripping cunt with a wet sound that made Barbara groan softly in approval.
“That’s it… juuust like that,” she praised, her voice husky. “Curl them up, baby. Feel that spot? Right where you need me?”
A broken moan tore from your throat, tears leaking from your eyes as you followed her instructions, pumping slowly at first, then faster, the heel of your palm grinding against your swollen clit. “Babs—fuck, it feels so good… but it’s not enough. I need you.”
“I know, puppy.” Her breathing was ragged now, the faint rhythmic sounds of her fingers moving between her own legs filtering through the comm. “I wish I could be there to see you... Fuck yourself harder for me. I want to hear it. Let me hear how sloppy that pretty pussy gets from my voice.”
You cried, pumping your fingers faster, the obscene wet sounds filling the quiet safehouse as your other hand left your breast to grip the sheets, knuckles turning white. “Barbie… fuck, baby… wanna fuck you so bad— tell me you want it, tell me you want me inside you. Please, please…”
A low, pleased growl came through the comm. “I miss the way you fill me up— hah—! fuck, when you make me ride you til my thighs shake… wish I could bounce my pussy all over yours baby… need you to fuck me like that again.”
That needy, desperate switch in her tone that was almost begging, sent a fresh rush of heat through you. “There’s my girl,” you sighed in ecstasy. “Just needed to turn your fucking brain off for me…”
“Yes—fuck, yes,” she gasped. Her voice cracked beautifully, the wet sounds from her end growing louder and faster. “I need you, I need you so fucking bad, baby.”
You curled your fingers harder, thrusting deep as you took control. “Yeah? You want my cock stretching you open? Fucking up into that cute little cunt?”
“I’d be so good for you… riding you just how you like. Fuck, I miss you using me. Please, baby—fuck me...”
“Atta girl, Barbie….” You added a third finger with a moan, the stretch burning so perfectly. “Fuckin brat, you had your fun.”
Barbara whimpered at your tone.
“I know what you need.” You moaned. “Do it harder. Play with your clit for me.... Rub it fast while you finger that pretty cunt. I want you to imagine my cock buried inside you, pounding you deep while I hold your hips down.”
A high, broken sound escaped her lips, echoing in the tower’s halls that made your own pussy clench around your fingers.
“I’m—hah—I’m doing it. Feels so good… I’m so close already. You always make me lose it when you get like this.”
You fucked yourself harder, hips bucking off the bed as you withdrew your fingers and focused on your clit, chasing that edge right alongside her.
A sharp cry cut through the comm, followed by a string of breathy curses. “Baby—! I’m gonna cum—fuck, I’m gonna cum so hard—”
“Not yet,” you whined, even as your own breathing grew ragged. Then, softer, almost pleading, the plea in your tone clear. “Wait for me, baby. I wanna cum with you— I’m almost there, just hold on—”
The sloppy wet sounds of your arousal splashing and making mess from how rough you were made Barbara’s his shake with need. “You’re so good— so fucking good. Fuck yourself like that. Harder, baby— cum for me, cum all over my pussy.”
You shrieked, grinding faster, your poor clit throbbing from the overstimulation. “Babs—Barbie— fuck, I need you—”
“I’m yours,” she gasped, fingers pumping faster, each squelching sound making your eyes roll. “I’m yours— only yours—”
That raw, possessive edge in her voice mixed with total surrender sent you spiraling as you ground your palm against your swollen clit, thighs shaking violently as your climax began to crash through you. “Fuck—! Oh god, I’m gonna cum— cum for me, Barbie—”
Her orgasm hit her hard as you cried out her name, thighs shaking while she clenched around her fingers, hips jerking and voice hoarse with a low, throaty moan. Her head tipped back as she rode her own hand through it.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You moaned her name like a prayer, your pussy pulsing hard around your fingers as slick heat spilled down your thighs and onto the sheets, making a mess. “Jesus Christ— I’m shaking—”
“Ride it out, baby,” Barbara cooed, lightheaded and glowing.
For a long minute afterwards, the only sounds were your shared, ragged breathing and the faint city traffic outside.
Finally, she let out a soft, wrecked little laugh in your ear, the soft thump of her forehead hitting the keyboard making you smile. “Holy shit… I think I saw stars.”
You smiled, slowly pulling your hand away with a shiver, your body still tingling. “Mmm. Same. You sound so fucking pretty when you cum for me.”
“And you sound even prettier when you’re bossing me around,” she teased, voice warm and sated, full of affection. “Since when are you so mean to me?”
You chuckled, chest heaving. “Gotta keep you on your toes, Oracle. Can’t let you stay in control all the time.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She hummed happily, a faint wet pop sound on the other end. “I like it when you take care of me.”
The silence between you two settled with the warmth of the afterglow.
“You okay over there?” You eventually murmured, and she murmured an ‘mhm’ back to you.
“You should go clean up and get some actual sleep.” Barbara said, soft but firm. “You’ve got watch later.”
“Back to business even after you just came your brains out,” you murmured fondly. “How romantic”
“You love it.”
“I do. I really do.” You paused, heart full. You paused for a moment, then sighed. “I love you, Barbie. Miss you like crazy.”
“I love you more,” she whispered, soft and sincere. “Just hurry home to me, okay? Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“...Right,” you laughed. “I’ll behave.”
The silence settled again, and neither of you spoke between the sounds of heavy breathing.
As the line remained open and the minutes passed, Barbara’s breath soon turned even and slow, her comforting presence in your ear taking you under as exhaustion finally settled over you like a warm blanket.
࿐ synopsis ⦂ a second chance romance told entirely through instagram follows, late night diner texts, and the chaos of mutuals who saw it coming before either of you did.
꒰꒰ involving contents ⦂ reader x platonic! jason todd, wally west, roy harper, donna troy, fluff, banter, friends gossiping, teasing, implications of sleeping together, use of timestamps and your.username.
masterlist . . . . . ↷
dick.grayskies: posted a story 09:23pm
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your.username: posted a story 09:49pm
📍downtown's diner, gotham
࿔
wally.west.is.fastest sent you a message: seen
wally.west.is.fastest: hey!! haven't heard from you in forever omg 10:12pm
wally.west.is.fastest: saw your story, you're at downtown's diner?? 10:13pm
wally.west.is.fastest: dick's may be two blocks from there btw. just saying 👀 10:15pm
your.username: i swear to god 10:16pm
wally.west.is.fastest: oh so you do respond, only to the mention of he who shall not be named
your.username: you literally just mentioned him 10:19pm
wally.west.is.fastest: oh well 10:20pm
wally.west.is.fastest: you can calm down!! it's not like he has been checking your profile every single day for two months 🙂
currently watching : succession season 4 finale (again lol)
current obsession : sakura haruno (all day every day)
currently reading : a dialogue — nikki giovanni and james baldwin (1973)
currently working on : with love, birdy (tim drake) + the summer i met the graysons (mark grayson x reader x dick grayson) + unnamed barbara gordon phone sex fic
last internet search : catfishing : the wikipedia guessing game (i take this very seriously btw)
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bsf!stephanie brown who is always calling you different pet names. you’re her baby, her sweetheart, her angel, her pretty girl. she never does it with any of her other friends, affectionate nicknames are reserved for you only.
bsf!stephanie brown who is overly affectionate and extremely touchy with you. grabbing your hand when you walk together, keeping an arm around your shoulder or her hands on your waist, hugging you all the time, constantly leaving kisses on your face or your neck. you’ve been confused for a couple before, she just insisted she’s always like that with people she’s close with.
bsf!stephanie brown who is constantly telling how pretty you are or how lucky she’d be to be your girlfriend, joking about how badly she wants to scissor with you or how she’ll eat you out whenever you say something nice to her.
bsf!stephanie brown who gets upset whenever she sees you making out with someone at the club and then insists that you need to take her back home.
bsf!stephanie brown who will then end up getting drunk and making out with you for the rest of the night.
bsf!stephanie brown who always sends you pics trying on new lingerie that she bought or sends boob pics to ask you which one turned out better. she never has an answer for you when you ask her who she’s going to send those to.
bsf!stephanie brown who hates it when you talk about your dates but tells you about every one of her hookups in great detail.
bsf!stephanie brown who once got too descriptive and ended up eating you out on her couch because she insisted that you wouldn’t understand what she was talking about.
bsf!stephanie brown who always jokes about how you should repeat that some day.
𝜗ৎ i’d had this sitting in my drafts for Several weeks bc i felt like it didn’t really make sense but i finally decided to post it today hope it’s good enough ummmm happy pride
you didn't reblog that post, but i will say it anyway😼 i think your trademark is little emojis you put in front of the text and this overall ethereal vibe you got in your blog✨
how rebellious 🌚 this Ω or the old spiral one?! idk when it started but now I can’t seem to let it go!! so THANK YOU AVA!! ILY for noticing!!
symphora (requested! + nsfw)
diana of themyscira x fem!reader
mentions: 2k event, porn with plot-ish??, soulmates au, masturbation (fingering), slight possessiveness, bush propaganda, licking, slight eye contact, blah blah
(ANGELLLLL ILYSM guys shes the one who came up with the plot and i literally love her and her brain ughghghhg #iloveyou)
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symphora— thats what soulmates were called. not lovers, not spouses, not destiny. a soul woven so closely to another that the barriers between them occasionally disappeared
the amazons considered those bonds as sacred, a blessing from the gods, the purest expression of compassion. it was said that when two souls were bound by a symphora, neither could ever be truly alone. even if they were across oceans and continents, they would always carry a piece of one another
that piece was felt in echoes of emotions. it could be joy, grief, relief, fear and pain— especially pain
as an warrior, diana felt all kinds of pain. that’s why she never budged or blinked an eye when she randomly would get paper cuts, or when a shot of pain would be sent to her toe, or when a bruise formed on her forearm— the sort of pain that came with living an ordinary life
unlike her, your pain was different. not when you suddenly felt the ache of a dislocated shoulder, not when a knife-sharp pain sliced across your ribs, not when nasty bruises formed around your ribcage—a type of pain that came from battle
but there was one more emotion that was often felt— desire. and just like the others, it always came suddenly.
one finger would swirl around your clit while you slowly pushed the other two inside of you. the feeling not only made you instinctively clench and sigh, but it would also be the same feeling that diana would feel, even all the way from themyscira
which was why a hand of her own was rested between her thighs, thrusting two fingers in her pussy with a slow and deep pace. a moan left her lips, throwing her head back as she felt her arousal bubble more in her body— a reaction all thanks to you
your fingers sped up, vulgar sounds of squelching entering your ears as your eyes were fixated on your pussy, noises leaving your gaped lips and eyebrows slightly furrowed from both the feeling and the sight. you moaned when you felt your fingertips brush through a specific spot, your pussy walls pulsing all over your fingers
meanwhile in themyscira, diana felt it. “oh hera” she quietly sighed, knuckles deep and buried in her warm cunt. gods, if you made her feel like this from far away, imagine the sensations she would feel if she were with you. the idea alone made her clench on her long and slightly calloused fingers
with the same hand, her thumb went to rub small, tantalizing circles on her clit. it did nothing but add more to the stimulation both you and her were sharing
a shaky breath left your lips when your clit throbbed like crazy on your finger, your other hand gripping onto the bedsheets tightly. your hips started to rock to match the pace of your fingers, moans slipping from your lips as your fingers repeatedly nudged on the right spots
as if on cue, diana’s fingers started to pace up. they were buried so deep it made her bite her bottom lip with furrowed eyebrows to conceal her sounds. but with the way her fingers were beautifully satisfying her, it was impossible not to
“look w-what you do to me” diana whispered to herself, as if talking to you. “what i would give to find you” the speed of her thumb on her clit increased. “to feel your body in my hands, made just for me—"
a moan left her lips, fingers curling in her juuuuust right, her parted thighs almost shaking and pussy clamping over her fingers like crazy. and before she knew it, the sensation of pleasure hit her like a freight train, arching her back to press her filled cunt more to her knuckles and a groan leaving her gaped lips
just like your soulmate, your orgasm was reached as well. soft moans were heard from you and an obscene slap! slap! slap! sounds were heard from your hips. the release felt so good it had you knocking your head back with a small gasp and your eyes rolling to the back of your head as they slowed down to a complete stop
once you brought your head back, your gaze landed on the mess you made— stuffed fingers now wet and covered with cum, some of the lewd evidence on your bush
diana wasn’t an exception. taking her fingers out with a lewd pop!, her knuckles and fingers glistening with the sheer coat of her orgasm as evidence and pants leaving her lips.
only one thing was at both you and diana’s mind: if both of you were able to satisfy each other’s needs without even meeting and touching one another, gods know how it would be if fate had its way and reuinted you both
and fate did. because weeks later, you would run into her and soon, get into a relationship with diana. all while not knowing that you were each other’s soulmates
it wasn’t until your first night together that you and diana realized, both of you entering your apartment with lips on one another and hands roaming around each other. and it wasn’t until the familiar feeling of desire crept upon you and diana— the same kind from weeks ago
both of you stilled before slowly breaking the kiss away to look at each other with slightly widened yet blown eyes, huffing small hot pants. there were no words shared because her gaze was more than enough— lust mixed with realization and disbelief, but also relief
relief that it was you the gods chose for her to spend the rest of her life with
without breaking eye contact, diana slowly lowered herself to her knees and unbuttoned your pants, hearing your breath hitch from the action. and once your pants fell on the floor, her gaze dropped and dragged her tongue to lick a long stripe on your thigh
now that made you let out a shaky gasp, sliding your hand to bury in her hair and lips slowly gaping as you felt one hand lay on your waist while the other lowered the strap of your panties to suck on a spot on your hip.
the circles of her tongue made a moan of her name leave your lips as you stared down at her with awe, only to catch her gaze— blue eyes darkened with lust
some said the symphra was the gods’ greatest mercy while others called it their cruelest design. yet either way, it was something a soul could never forget or outgrow— something you and diana could never ignore
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masterlist! ⤷ 2k event !
(a/n: one more req left!! lowkey gonna take a little break when i finish with the 2k event. fun fact, symphora is a greek term for "shared fate" or "intertwined destiny")
ooh what if you write some kind of royal/medieval knight au ??
-🫧
im so sorry this took so long, bubble anon! i've been so tired lately, but finally gathered the energy to complete a single request today—i hope this lived up to what you wanted!
hold your peace - j. todd
dcu masterlist | main masterlist
gn!royal!reader x knight!jason todd
summary: jason is forced into silence as he watches you walk down the aisle—towards someone else.
warnings: arranged marriage, no happy ending, lots of angst, mentions of decapitation
UNEDITED!
"you called, your highness?"
you don't turn. you keep staring out the window. at the thick streams of sunlight spilling over the kingdom—now your kingdom. or soon to be. in about a few hours, in fact.
"today is my wedding day," you say blandly.
jason swallows, gently setting his helmet down on your nightstand. he dared to grow closer, but watched as your shoulders tightened. watched as your hands clenched around each other.
"i'm aware," he said, sympathetically. then, to maintain professionalism, added, "congratulations, your highness." he bowed his head.
finally, you turn. bitterness contorts your face into an expression he's unfamiliar with. you don't look yourself, dressed in your crown and your beautiful wedding outfit.
the fullness of your appearance makes up for the emptiness in your eyes.
no, jason thinks. nothing can compensate for that emptiness in your eyes. he feels a fool to think such a hollow thought. he had no right to feel pity for you. no right to hope he could try and save you.
"hm." a tiny puff of air is the only sound you make as you cross the room. he lets himself follow you. allows you to see that rare yearning flicker on his face. to show you he's sorry. he's sorry he didn't choose you.
"you look...beautiful."
"i feel beautiful," you whisper, face still solemn. "no other man could give me these things."
jason knows you're prodding. knows you're trying to kick him to make him say something. do something. anything to show you he cares. beyond the emptiness in your gaze, he sees a need for control so powerful it twists into hatred.
resentment.
"you're right," is all he says, feeling bitter now himself. "no one else can."
you stare at yourself in the mirror. he stares at you, too. and he watches as water builds in your eyes, watches as that resentment crumbles and shatters entirely.
he doesn't reach forward.
doesn't give in to the temptation.
"why...?" you ask, finally breaking. you whip around, lips quivering into a frown. "why couldn't you choose me?"
"you have no clue what i need," he says breathlessly. "i want you. i've never wanted anyone or anything as terribly as i want you."
you nearly spit at him. "whatever you wanted, i could've given it to you! why...why couldn't you have just asked me to run away with you? why couldn't you have taken me away?" you rush to his chest, slamming a hand into it. the metal armor there clattered, the impact barely causing him to stumble.
"why?" you beg. "take me away! take me away now! you still can!"
he's not sure what to think of you right now. one moment, you were cold, pretending to hate him. pretending you couldn't care less whether he married you or not.
and now you're begging him to save you. begging him to take you far away. far from the fat streams of sunlight—somewhere he can bury you in winter and force the world to forget your name.
somewhere he can have you all to himself.
"there's still time!" you fall to your knees, hands cradling your face. "there's still time, jason. if you take me now, i'll never say a single word. please. please, jason. just ask me to go with you. anywhere. i can't marry him." you turn back, as if your husband would be watching or listening. "i can't. i don't love him."
jason kept his chin high, ignoring the tears brimming his eyes. "you will grow to love him."
you ball your fists, much like a spoiled child would. you tear the blankets from your bed and toss them to the ground. "what do i need to do to make you choose me? or...what's keeping you from me?" you scramble to your feet, your wedding outfit now wrinkled.
you cling to his arm for a brief moment, then rip away. "what is it, jason, that terrifies you so much that you cannot choose me?"
jason has fought on the sea in the middle of a storm, has saved his own kingdom from invaders with nothing but his bare hands. never has he felt so afraid of looking someone in the eyes than he did now.
"i...i cannot tell you, your highness—"
"and the whole your highness thing!" you throw up your arms. "my name, jason. you're acting like you don't even know my name."
guilt bubbles in his stomach, threatening to boil into his throat and come out.
he's about to reply—is even tempted to tell you the truth—when a knock sounds at the door.
you grumble, opening it to find a nervous servant. "your highness?" she says. "it's time."
"thank you," you mutter, then close the door. you turn slowly. jason stares at you blankly. "jason," you sigh. "please."
he ignores the panic in your eyes. the desperation in your voice. then he bows low—at the waist, like he never used to do. "i will leave you to get ready, your highness."
he can't watch you as you walk down the aisle. you're so beautiful, but the hollowness of your features repulses him more than anything ever has.
he keeps his head down respectful, trying to ignore the guilt of his own cowardice.
there are bigger things, he thinks, bigger things i need to protect them from than a man who just wants their kingdom's money.
you stand at the altar, petrified, a lamb to the slaughter as your husband eats you up with his stare.
for a moment, jason thinks he might move. his hand is already inching towards his sword, fingers twitching madly. it's second nature, really. protecting you.
he grips the hilt of his sword and prepares to lob off the head of your greedy new husband, but then he drinks in how terrified you look.
and he imagines your head on a platter. and he remembers what your father told him the moment he found out you were negaged.
"you can have their hand," you father had said, "but know that it will come off with their head."
he knew it was an empty threat—deeply hopes it was, anyway. your father needs you politically. and jason...jason was the only thing standing in the way of that.
it's not like he cared for his own life, but to threaten yours? that was perhaps the only thing keeping him at bay, and your father knew exactly how to exploit that.
if jason rejected his bold nature and allowed the wedding to persist, he'd lose you, but not entirely. your father gets what he wants, and you stay alive.
and if jason ignored the warnings, if he stole you away like you'd wanted and like he'd promised to do, he'd watch your head roll off your shoulders and onto the ground.
your father's political alliance would be tarnished, but not his reputation—not completely. and if you'd run away with jason, he would've lost both.
so he stares at you, knowing his silence is now the only way he can keep you safe. not by his sword, not by his hand.
by distance.
your eyes find his, wide with longing. with desperation for your freedom. you strangle your bouquet—a last call for liberty. your last act of resistance, last hope that he might storm down the aisle and pull you into his arms.
jason locks his body and stares forward.
he was trained to be a soldier, after all.
the priest smiles between you and your betrothed. "speak now, or forever hold your peace."
jason lets the numbness consume him. it eats at his courage.
and it washes his voice away.
betrayal solidifies on your face. there is no peace to be held in the space between you two. it simply cannot exist.
there may not be peace, but there is silence.
and silence has, and always will be, better than a war.
IM ALIVE IM ALIVE I KNOW THIS WAS SHORT AND I KNOW IT PROBABLY SUCKED BALLSACK BUT IM ALIVE AND IM SO HAPPY TO HAVE POSTED SOMETHING GOSHHHHH THIS FEELS GOOD
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࿐ synopsis ⦂ jason todd can outrun anything gotham throws at him, but sitting still in a safehouse at two in the morning, blanket-warm and dangerously honest, turns out to be the thing that undoes you both.
꒰꒰ involving contents ⦂ light angst with a tint of fluff, soft!jason, established relationship, dangerous surroundings, slight mention of future plans, remaining in a safehouse until the danger passes.
masterlist . . . . . ↷
his call rang at eleven, the exact time nothing good ever happens. you answered on the second ring. it was always like this when his name lit up your screen past ten... you answered immediately and you didn't ask questions until jason todd told you it was safe to ask them.
"pack a bag," he solely said, "...clothes for two days, devices if you need them, anything you can't replace. don't turn on the lights!"
your stomach dropped to a soft floor that was once hard under your feet. you were no stranger to this feeling.
"alright," you respond. "how long?"
"until I say otherwise." you could hear him breathing, which meant he was somewhere quiet, trying to be careful. "are you already awake?"
"I was reading what you left at my place."
"good. don't put the book down until I'm at your door... I'm seven minutes out."
he hung up... you were left in the dark with your phone glowing and your book still open. you breathed carefully, the way he taught you, and then you got up to pack your belongings. all lights out.
his safehouse was in a part of gotham that doesn't have a recognisable name to many. jason unlocked it with a key from a ring weighted by at least eleven more keys, probably for his other scattered safehouses. he went in first, and he checked it before he even let you pass. you stood in the doorway, a bag on your shoulder waiting for him to be done with all this moving through the dark rooms.
"clear," he announced, and only then could you move in.
It smelt like dust and old radiator heat. jason drew the curtains together the second you were both inside. he flipped a switch to a single lamp in the far corner, and the room brightened a sweet softness that surprised you every time, 'cause deep down the unwanted bias of expecting these places of his to feel brutal and caging in was always proven wrong.
"you want tea," he asked.
"Is there tea?"
"I stock them." he strolled to the small kitchen.
you sat on the couch and pulled your knees to your chest, listening to him work around the kitchen. at some point, your eyes fell shut. you allowed yourself to be comforted by the domestic sounds.
jason returned with two mugs and set yours in front of you on the table. he flung his body onto the couch's free space without bothering to take his jacket off. his eyes were scanning the space... alertness second in command to his being... constantly tracking sound...
"...jay," you were tired of waiting, "are you gonna tell me why I'm here?"
"someone I put away three years ago got out on a technicality." his voice was even. "he knows my face. he doesn't know yours, but..."
"but I know yours."
"...yeah." he snatched up his mug. "so you're bound to me."
you nod slowly. this was practising what it meant to live a life by his side. the way that loving jason todd meant you had to disappear from your own home at midnight with no light and your heart in your throat, 'cause someone somewhere had decided to make you an answer to an equation that was only ever meant to involve him.
you used to resent this. there were early months where the line blurred and you threw the resentment in his direction simply 'cause he was there... but now you don't resent it anymore. you're not entirely sure when that changed.
"how long do you think?"
"a night. maybe two." he shifted, getting himself comfortable on the couch whilst angling slightly toward the door. "depends on whether he makes a move or just goes to ground."
"and if he goes to ground?"
"then we wait until I find him... I'll find him faster than he expects."
oh, he was serious, and no doubt did you believe him.
by one in the morning it became clear that both of you weren't going to surrender to sleep any time soon. jason fetched blankets from the closet and pulled one over your shoulders; the other over his lap as you caved into his firm side. your feet tucked under the edge of his thigh. his arm along the back of the couch behind you.
"you can sleep," he said. "I'm not going to."
"I know you're not." you cranked your neck from his shoulder to meet his eyes. "that's why I'm not."
he opened his mouth, only to shut it at the lost argument. little seconds crossed, he whispered, "...I mean it, you don't have to stay up with me."
"I know." you shoved deeper into him.
jason and you spoke for a while about nothing. something the two of you were always good at. he listened to you with beautiful attention, the kind that made you feel like what was coming out you mouth was the most interesting thing he's heard in his life.
you knew that could never be true given the life he led, and yet... around two he went quiet, and you sat in that same silence for a while with him, before talking...
"am i allow to say something?"
"you're gonna ask it either way..."
"when you're in situations like this. being hunted, or ... whatever the right word is." you keep your tone considerate. "does it feel like it used to?"
his mouth pressed closed long enough that you wondered if you overstepped a boundary...
"...no," he finally gave you an answer. "It used to feel like I was part of the thing. like the danger and me were the same substance."
you waited.
"It doesn't feel like that now," he continued. "now there's a line between me and it. I can see both sides of it." he cast a look to the curtained window. "most of the time."
"...most of the time," you echoed, curious.
"most is better than none."
"yeah," you agreed. "It really is."
he glanced at you. you looked back at him steadily, knowing that with jason you weren't supposed to look away from times like these. he needs to be met.
"you're not scared," he questioned.
"of this? the situation?"
"of me." he paused. "the situation is me."
now, you were feeling it within. he wasn't asking for reassurance or a pretty answer. he was demanding honesty with no way to say it aloud.
"I thought about it," you began. "early on, I thought about it a lot."
"and?"
"and I think I would be scared of a version of you that didn't worry about it." you turned your mug in your hands. "the worrying is the point. that's you on the right side of the line."
"that's..." jason cut off, thinking.
"you don't have to say anything."
"I know, I..." he paused like he was trying to come up with a deep explanation, before simply settling with..." I know I don't."
by three, thirty you had pushed barriers until his arm was actually around you and your head is on his shoulder and the blankets were pooled across both of you.
he was still very much alert... in the slight tension in the arm around you, the way he went rigid at a sound from outside (a car, passing, nothing) before easing again. his alertness wasn't frightening from your angle. in fact, it was the thing that let you close your eyes.
"I've been thinking," he said quietly, into the top of your head, "about getting a new place."
"a safehouse?"
"an actual place. with a kitchen and..." he hopelessly started again. "with enough space for two people."
you open your eyes. didn't lift your head.
"two people," you repeated.
"I'm not asking tonight," he clarified. "I'm not... this isn't me asking. I just wanted to say it out loud. once. to see what it sounded like."
"what does it sound like?"
a pause. outside, the rain. the radiator's tick...
"less terrifying than I thought!"
you melted your face into his shoulder. "yeah," you muffled into his jacket. "same."
jason's arm tightened around you.
you didn't really get any sleep. you drifted in and out of your awake consciousness. around four he called your name, testing whether you were asleep or not.
"hmm..."
"there's a diner two blocks east that opens at five." jason informed. "they do good eggs."
you pondered it, "are we safe to go at five?"
"should be. checked in with my contact twenty minutes ago." his hand moved, once, across your hair to stroke it, soft. "I'll know more by then."
"alright." you leaned back. "wake me at four, forty five."
"yeah," he obeyed.
you closed your eyes again. the lamp made the inside of your eyelids warm and orange. the rain was easing.
white feather hawk tail deer hunter by lana del rey.
Helena who takes you out on midnight bike rides when you're half asleep and whining about how she never takes you out on her bike. (a blatant lie but it gets to her every time.) The wind tangles your hair as your arms stay wrapped tightly around her waist. When your fingers start teasingly sliding lower, she'll speed up, a warning she doesn't actually mean.
Helena who visibly panics when your eyes get all watery while you're cutting onions. It doesn't occur to her that it's the onions making you like this. In her head, she's fucked up somehow.
You blink away some tears while putting the knife down. Through your blurry vision, you see your girlfriend staring at you, brows furrowed, her mouth opening, then closing as if she wants to say something but isn't sure what.
"You, good, honey?" you ask, wiping a lone tear.
"Um, I'm fine…are you…?" she asks hesitantly.
"I'm always good when you're with me," you say happily, turning back to the chopping board. Her hand wraps around your wrist before you can, and she keeps you facing her. For a moment, it's silent as she looks over you.
When she's satisfied, her hand drops to her side, and her voice is steady as she speaks. "If I've done something, just tell me, kay?"
Helena who’ll teach you how to fight so you can protect yourself when she’s not around. It’s brutal at times. You’ll be panting, trying to keep up as she swings at you and you think your legs will give out. But afterwards, she’ll press a kiss to your forehead, both your cheeks, then finally, she’ll press one to your lips as if you’ve earned this.
Helena who kisses you when you start overthinking.
"Babe," Helena taps your shoulder when you've been staring at the same stop for minutes, your knee bouncing. Honestly, it's distracting her from the movie, but more importantly, you have that overthinking look she recognizes.
When all she gets in response is a hum, she'll roll her eyes, tilt your face towards her, and kiss you til you stop spiraling.
