#batman fandom

“hm!?” you jolted at the touch, glancing back, and relaxed immediately to see that it was just your jason, “oh, you! you startled me.” you shook your head, seeing the amused smile quirk up on his face at your distress, “i can't find the orange gums that i like. were you saying something?”

“i said it's fucking unbelievable.” he said bitterly, when you turned around fully and leaned against the shelf behind you. he moved closer to trap you between his arms, “my card declined. was getting a pack of cigarettes and apparently the policy here is i gotta pay first. this guy doesn't accept crumbled bills. and my card fucking declined.”

your hands snaked up to rest against his chest, or rather the leather of his jacket, “you and bruce having a row again?” not that it'd matter. jason didn't even use the trustfund set up by bruce for himself. if anything, he only ever utilized that money to help out casualties. usually children caught in the crossfire of crime .

“that's what i thought. his communication skills are otherworldly afterall. but no,” jason sighed, “i texted dick, turns out he had tim doing this april fools prank. not funny.”

you frowned, agreeing with him obviously, as you nodded your head. you, too, would crashout and get really angry if someone thought it was okay to fuck with your personal stuff, “he's knocking it off though, right?”

“not before 12 o’clock.” he answered, “tim set a timer or whatever. i don't care. i wouldn't care if it was you who did it. “ he added, “i just don't like that-” he trailed off, dropping his forehead against your shoulder.

your hands immediately found home in his hair, soothingly running through the curls at the back of his head. “i know. i understand. you don't–” you murmured, "they're so childish when it comes to boundaries sometimes.”

he tilted his head and pressed his lips to the side of your neck before pulling away and standing to his full height again, towering over you by a couple inches.

your eyes widened as you looked past jason, checking for the third of the trio. roy harper. this friends with benefits thing was not a secret, you just didn't like the smug look roy got on his face whenever seeing you two get all sweet with physicality.

you liked kissing jason casually, just because. and he often did the same with you. you'd be deep in a gory tv show, wrapped up in your fluffiest self-crocheted blanket on the couch, and he'd walk by you, leaving a kiss on the top of your head. jason would get to your kitchen and heat himself up something to eat. he'd return to the living room, dropping beside you on the couch, watching you watch tv. and you'd open your mouth occasionally so that he could share his food with you. you had a habit of playfully biting on his fingers. he was very bite-able.

most days, you went out for runs right before dawn. you liked the cinematicness of it. how you could pretend to run from the cops or villains alike, even though there was no one outside. mostly it helped you regulate your anxiety. the adrenaline was addictive. and those runs always ended with you knocking on jason's apartment door. the door would open almost immediately. like he knew you were on your way.

him only in his boxers. taking you into his arms and into his bed. your legs wrapping around his hips, as he'd hastily close the door behind you. making sure it's locked safely. before taking you both into his bedroom.

most of these encounters ended with grinds of his hips into yours, dragging out sounds of excruciating pleasure from the both of you. sometimes with you on your back, as he'd stare down at your face with feverish want. you'd take his jaw into your hands and kiss him senseless. his cock greedily buried in your cunt, desperate to please you.

sometimes it was you on top of him, slow grinds of your hips down onto his cock eventually turning into the most erratic thing ever. jason always looked a little too wrecked then, he was pretty sure god was a woman and that woman was you. he'd take mouthfuls of your breasts, gasping at the flutter of your inner walls around his cock, and completely fucking gone for the moans and praises that left your mouth. he saw fucking stars whenever you grasped his throat.

sometimes, he'd pound into you relentlessly with your face smushed into the mattress, ass up, hands scrambling to hold for something, anything, as every thrust made your spine arch.

and then there was jason’s favorite. making out with your pussy. he'd drag orgasms after orgasms out of you until you were overstimulated and practically incoherent with your face buried in his pillow, telling him you can't again, and he'd tease you sweetly and dedicate his all into making you come again. he knew you loved it whenever he spat on you or spanked your cunt, so the smug bastard always withheld them til the end.

the days your brain was far too awake regardless of too little sleep, you loved having jason's cock in your mouth. sucking him off and letting him take control until you were all dumb and sleepy. the tip of his cock brushing your lips before he'd slip in, your pussy throbbing against the vibrator you'd be sitting on. your chin and chest coated with drool and precum, as jason would thrust into you lazily.

and then sometimes, jason would bring you to his bed, and you'd murmur in his ear that you didn't want sex this time. you just missed him, so you came here. he'd kiss your forehead and set you down against the pillows. he'd help you out of your running clothes down to your underwear, and let one of his shirts swallow you instead. settling in the bed with you, he'd hold you in his arms, into the clingiest of hugs ever. he'd once playfully said his friendship came with the benefits of spooning.

so, yes, roy harper knew about the situation. of course he did. he was jason’s roommate. he had to hear you practically every early morning for hours. well, more jason than you actually. but roy was convinced you two were oblivious idiots in love, reducing your world-class romance into just sex.

because roy saw you arrive at a group hang out once in jason's wonder woman tshirt. he'd seen how giddy jason had appeared over it. his hand immediately slipping into the back pocket of your jeans. he'd leaned down and murmured something in your ear. you'd rolled your eyes, one of the most formidable women suddenly so shy, as you'd buried your face against his arm. you were both smiling like hah! people in love!!

jason always held your hand whenever you guys were out together. no matter where. specially in crowds. whenever you or jason would catch roy's side eye, ya'll would defend the behavior saying holding hands couldn't be more intimate than sex, so it wasn't a big deal. if one would ask for roy harper's opinion on that, roy had only one thing to say : lies, nasty nasty lies!

jason had your coffee order memorized. he brought you flowers occasionally because it was disrespectful to not bring the woman he was with flowers; you deserved to feel appreciated and cherished. most nights he had dinner at your place before patrol because he liked your company.

he shared almost everything about himself with you because not being transparent with you about a mission once had made him sick to his stomach, he'd begged roy to shoot his guts out. roy had simply called you over. the moment you guys were together, jason started rambling and having a panic attack, and you cradled his head against your neck, shushing him and reassuring him with such gentleness that roy again knew, ha! these morons were in love!!

every time jason was forced to attend a wayne gala, you attended them with him as his date. you had a photo album in your totebag, filled with polaroids of jason. roy had asked about it once, you'd shrugged and said jason was your favorite person in the world and you liked capturing him. whenever jason read a book on his living room couch, you'd end up half on top of him. your arm across his stomach and head on his chest. jason never got annoyed by it, he seemed to crave it actually. you were his emotional support pillow practically, given the catastrophic topics he liked reading about. he'd hold the book with one hand, and hold you carefully with his other arm. you always looked really content just being in his arms. roy was genuinely sick of all these fuckery getting called 'just friends', because respectfully where was his hugs, and cuddles and wonder woman tshirt and flowers and gossip and polaroids. christ! you'd even crocheted a hello kitty stuffed toy that resembled red hood!!

roy had even once walked in on you telling jason about your insecurities, and him so so gently lifting you onto his lap. he spoke so softly, so lovingly, his eyes filled with so much empathy for you, as though you feeling down hurt him physically, it was fucking diabolical.

“where'd roy go?” you asked, eyes meeting jason’s.

“uh, yeah,” he scratched the back of his neck, “the girl he's been seeing? she called. her ex boyfriend broke into her apartment---fucking prick, i know---and she beat him up with her hockey stick-”

“hot.” you perked up and jason leaned down to brush his mouth against yours for a moment.

“yeah, so, she's pretty freaked out now cuz the creep passed out and isn't moving. roy’s gone to make sure he isn't dead, or if he is-” jason ominously shrugged, and you laughed, wrapping your arms around his middle and tipping your head back to look at his infuriatingly attractive face. you knew roy would make the body disappear if the man was dead. he was rather down bad for this woman. she seemed to know how to make a man walk like a dog, you loved that for the both of them, “they make an interesting pair, don't they?” jason shook his head, baffled.

you poked your tongue out goofily, nodding your head, and then leaned up to steal a quick kiss, “tell you what, find me my gums and i’ll get your cigarettes. nothing quite romantic like rotting teeth and fucked up lungs. we make an even more interesting pair, yes, we do-”

you were cut off when jason’s mouth met yours messily. you had to grip the back of his jacket, because gravity stopped entirely and your knees buckled. kissing jason todd was your favorite thing ever, as you met him with equal fervor. his thigh slid between your legs and you made a soft sound of approval. he pulled away, and took a quick look at your flushed face, committing it to memory. his cheeks were flushed too and he was grinning.

you rolled your eyes and dragged his face back to yours with the back of his head as you practically devoured him. you two could be obscene. it seemed less like just kissing and more like him trying to fuck your mouth with his.

eventually you two had to pull away, gasping for breath. and yet, not kissing him felt more claustrophobic than anything, “what—was—that—for?” you said between breaths.

jason shrugged, stepping back as you steadied on your feet, “just wanted to kiss my girl.”

you beamed up pathetically at him, butterflies doing cartwheels in your stomach, “oh, i’m your girl now, am i?” you playfully asked.

“yes, ma’am, you are.” he said, with theatrical seriousness.

you reached up a hand to mess up his ruined hair even more. “hm,” you paused for the dramatics sake, "then you must build a shrine for me." you bossily declared.

"do i get to fuck you in front of it?" he asked, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"if you're good." you eyed him, "yes."

he nodded immediately, "oh, doll, i'll be so good."

next/sequel

it's so badly written. that's cuz i just rawdogged this under 3 hours?!? 4 at best?!? and it's 8 in the morning rn. my head hurts and im pretty sure i'm starting a fever. lmao. have fun. i hope it wasn't too ooc and repetitive. i tried proofreading twice but ive memory problems because of health issues, so :) and and forgive my attempt at smut, i'm an inexperienced fuck who's never written it before.

Dick skipped breakfast. Skipped briefing. And when he did show up, he was sharp edged and volatile, snapping at anyone who spoke too slowly or stood too close. Wally tried to joke it off once, just once, and Dick rounded on him so fast the room went dead silent.

“You done talking?” Dick snapped. “Because if you have another joke in you, now would be a great time to shut the hell up.”

By the third day, he’d stopped eating entirely. Coffee and adrenaline were the only things keeping him upright. His patience was gone, his temper frayed so thin it snapped at the smallest provocation. Training dummies were left in pieces. His knuckles were split and raw, blood smearing the wraps because he forgot (didn’t care) to change them.

On the fourth day, Bruce finally stepped in.

“You’re not cleared for patrol tonight.”

Dick laughed, but it was harsh and humorless. “Excuse me?”

“You’re distracted. You’re irritable. You missed three tactical cues in training.” Bruce’s voice was firm. “That gets people killed.”

Dick’s jaw clenched. “So that’s it? You bench me because my personal life imploded?”

“This isn’t about your personal life. This is about your judgment.”

Dick stepped closer, fists clenched. “Funny. You never seemed to have an issue when your judgment was compromised.”

Bruce’s eyes hardened. “Enough.”

“No,” He shot back, anger finally spilling over. “You don’t get to pull rank now. Not when you taught me to bury everything and keep moving like nothing hurts. This is on you too.” Dick turned and left, rage and shame twisting together until he couldn’t tell them apart.

Meanwhile, you were doing just as badly.

You ignored his missed calls. Deleted the voicemails without listening to them and called it self-preservation. Reasoned that if you heard just a word, that it would only drag you back into something already poisoned. Your plan was to keep ignoring him until the heartbreak lessened into something more bearable, but then Kory showed up.

You recognized her flaming hair though the peephole immediately.

“Y/N,” she said softly, after you opened the door against your better judgement. “May I come in?”

“No.”

Her expression faltered. “Please, I only want to talk.”

You laughed, brittle. “Of course you do.”

“Dick is hurting.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

Kory blinked. “I may not understand everything that happened, but—”

“You don’t,” you snapped, anger flaring hot. “And forgive me if I don’t want the woman my boyfriend was in love with mediating our breakup. I don't care what happens to him anymore. And if he's as broken as you claim he is, maybe you should go back to him. Seems on brand."

Kory flinched as if you'd slapped her, the green in her eyes dimming with hurt. It was almost enough to make you feel guilty.

Almost.

“It’s not like that,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “Not anymore. What I felt for Dick, it was real, but it was also a lifetime ago. We remain good friends, nothing more. However, what he feels for you is real. He loves you, Y/N. That's why he's a wreck. He’s not eating, not sleeping. He’s picking fights with everyone. He’s going to get himself killed out there.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. “And that’s supposed to be my problem? He made his choice. He lied. Let him deal with the consequences.”

“Is that what you really want?” Kory challenged, her voice gaining a sliver of strength. “To wait for a call from Bruce? To hear that the man you love—yes, you still love him—died because you were too proud to answer the phone?”

The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. You hated her for it. Hated that she could see through the brittle armor you’d built around yourself. Hated that she was right.

“Just go, Kory,” your voice cracked. “Please.”

She looked at you for a long moment, her expression softening with something like pity. She gave a slow, sad nod. “I hope you find what you’re looking for in this silence. I really do.”

She turned and walked away, leaving you alone in the suffocating silence of your apartment. You slammed the door before sliding down the wood. The tears you’d been fighting for days finally broke free. You weren’t just mourning a relationship. You were mourning the fool who had believed it was real in the first place.

Back at the manor, Dick’s confrontation with Bruce had left him hollowed out. He’d stormed to the gym, needing the violence, the mindless repetition of hitting something until his muscles screamed and his lungs burned. He’d gone through three bags, his movements sloppy and fueled by a self-loathing so profound it was a physical ache.

"Master Richard. A moment, if you please."

Dick didn't turn. "Not now, Alfred."

"Now," Alfred insisted, stepping closer. He held out a glass of water and a clean towel. "Your hands require attention before you do permanent damage."

Dick looked down at his knuckles, raw and bleeding through the frayed wraps, before grabbing the towel and water.

"This cannot continue," Alfred stated. "Your self-flagellation is achieving nothing but ensuring you are too injured and exhausted to function, should the city actually require its protector."

"He's right, you know," a new voice said from the doorway. Jason was leaning against the frame, arms crossed, looking unimpressed. "You're putting on a real performance. The tragic, fallen hero. It's a bit much, even for you."

Dick's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. "What are you doing here?"

"To tell you to get a grip," he said, pushing off the doorframe and walking in. "So he left you. Boo hoo. You fucked up. We get it. But you're taking down the whole team's efficiency with your moping. Wally's walking on eggshells, Bruce is in full Bat-dad mode, and frankly, it's boring."

Dick's jaw tightened. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I?" Jason countered, getting right in his face. "I know what it's like to have the person you care about look at you like you're a monster. I know what it's like to screw up so bad there's no coming back from it. The difference is, I didn't have a dozen people hand holding me through it. You fucked up. So either fix it or accept the consequences and move the hell on. This…this is just pathetic."

For the first time in days, a different emotion cut through the haze of grief and shame. Pure, unadulterated rage. "Get out." Dick snarled.

"Make me."

Tim, who went to an escape room with Bruce (and set a record for fastest completion): What do you think?

Bernard: YEESH!! Fucking up twice in a row. That’s gotta suck.

Timothy, who also got a murder mystery dinner party: It was awful.

Bart+Cassie: Well, on the flip side at least we can have our own party and give you a better birthday!

Tim, already texting Bruce so they can play video games later and walking away: Nah, sorry guys busy tonight. Y’know how it is duty calls, Batman’s an ass!

—🪺🦇—

Cassie: Hey girls! I heard Bruce took you to Paris, how was it?

Cassandra and Steph, who Bruce took to see fashion+art shows: 👀👀

Cassandra: Really bad honestly. Paris smells like nothing but cigarettes.

Steph: And to make matters worse Bruce was so boring!

Cassandra, nodding along: We only went for a mission (the mission being to have fun)

Cassie: Oh :( well I can always take us female heroes out on a girls trip :)

Cass and Steph, who will be seeing Bruce in drag tonight: Maybe some other time

—🪺🦇—

Dinah: I heard you experienced the unthinkable.

Barbara: What?

Dinah: You, Oracle, had connection issues. And the big, bad bat had to help you. How was it?

Barbara, who spent the time sassing and gossiping with Bruce and then played Minecraft with him (FUCK ROBLOX): It was awful 😐

—🪺🦇—

I was going to do Duke, but I don’t think he’d do this lol. I also don’t know if he has any hero friends like the other bats (excluding We Are Robin) (I also can’t find any DT comics T_T), but the friends he does have he’d love to have hang out with B :)

—🪺🦇—

Jon: Hey Dames! Since it’s Friday I was thinking we could spend time together tomorrow :D

Damian, who’s going to the zoo with Bruce: Tch, I have too much work to do tomorrow

Jon: oh okay :( maybe we can do something next weekend! :D

Damian: that would be adequate

—🪺🦇—