jays-rus

[jays-rus]

Finally finished this piece after months of reworking. Far from perfect, but I’m glad it’s done. Inspired by the amazing Bruno Redondo, Dan Mora, and especially Dexter Soy.

[jays-rus]

• dick grayson just loves getting you pregnant.

❤︎──── ❛❛i just know your pull-out game is trash. what are you trying to do—start a soccer team or somethin'?❞ jason said with a funny face, watching dick’s oldest kid stuff his face with the tiny sandwiches alfred had made for the birthday party. the little dude looked just like his old man, minus the ridiculous robin outfit and the sad puppy eyes only an orphan could pull off. the younger girl beside him, dick's middle child, was going at the muffins just as aggressively, like the two of them were racing to see who could eat more.

dick didn't even look up from his drink, gently bouncing his youngest on one arm, chubby-cheeked, wide-eyed, and clinging to his shirt like a sleepy little koala. "if you had a wife as hot as mine, you'd be popping out kids too, buddy."

they both turned to look at you.

you looked effortlessly beautiful in your sundress, arranging the table with sweet treats and the homemade cake you’d baked with steph for your son. you were glowing, smiling softly to yourself as you nudged cupcakes into place, strands of hair slipping down your shoulders in that way that always made dick a little bit stupid in the head.

jason looked at him and smirked.

"okay, fair point. If i had that, i'd never pull out either."

dick shot him a glare sharp enough to kill.

"watch it."

"relax, i'm just admiring. like art in a museum. look, don't touch."

the baby in dick's arms let out a soft coo, then promptly sneezed in his face. jason burst out laughing, almost choking on his beer. dick wiped his face with a napkin, sighing. the living room was steadily filling up, your apartment buzzing with the kind of energy only a gathering of vigilantes and sugar-fueled kids could create. laughter bounced off the walls, footsteps thudded across the floor, and someone had already knocked over a bowl of popcorn.

by the time everyone had arrived, you stood near the center of the room, glancing around at the crowd with a shy smile. tim and damian were surprisingly civil, caught up in a low-stakes debate over something. bruce stood nearby, hands behind his back, taking in the decorations with his signature unreadable expression. barbara and cass sat on the edge of the couch, quietly demolishing cupcakes. wally was crouched on the floor, pretending to lose a race to your son, who was giggling maniacally.

you turned toward the kitchen doorway.

"come here, honey."

dick stood from the armchair, still gently cradling your baby girl, and crossed the room to your side. you laced your fingers with his free hand, your other hand brushing nervously over the front of your sundress.

once you had everyone's attention, you cleared your throat.

"so, guys, since everyone’s here..." you looked at dick, who gave you a reassuring nod. "we have an announcement."

across the room, wally and jason exchanged a look, like they already knew what was coming.

"we're pregnant!" you said brightly, your smile wide and beaming. steph let out an excited squeal and rushed forward to hug you tightly, practically bouncing on her feet.

"oh my god, again? you're glowing, this is so perfect!"

meanwhile, wally and jason turned to stare at dick like he'd just revealed he was a time traveler. jason didn't miss a beat.

"bro. do you have a breeding kink or somethin'? four kids? four? what the actual fuck?"

tim, without looking up, reached out and casually covered richard jr's ears. barbara did the same for your daughter on the couch, both of them sighing in sync.

dick blinked, deadpan.

"you know, some people just really enjoy fatherhood."

"you definitely enjoy something."

wally snorted. "this man's building his own titans roster at home."

dick just grinned, kissed the top of your head, and rocked the baby gently in his arm.

[jays-rus]

Thinking about a female reader in her thirties who always cries about not finding a man again since the ending of her last miserable relationship. Men her age are either married, emotionally unavailable, fuckboys or losers who think women hit the wall at 30.

One day she wants to drink herself stupid after work and gets pestered by our favorite besties Soap and Gaz who find her in a bar.

After asking for the fifth time what's wrong with their precious little secretary she bursts out and rants about dating, men and that she's going to die alone. Get the cats ready.

Gaz tries to comfort her by telling her that she's beautiful, intelligent and a very amazing person in general. She WILL find a good lad. :)

Johnny suggests changing her target group since she told them she set her age range to 30-40. Why not try out younger guys? He rambles about all the benefits - some are actually pretty tempting and some are... questionable. Like okay, Johnny, Baby, stop telling us how younger, more inexperienced men are able to go several rounds in bed and are easier to mold into your perfect future husband.

After his monologue she agrees to try out a younger guy (to get him to shut up) and promises that she will take the next pretty 20-something man home who hits on her.

Soap just grins and excuses himself for a few minutes. Meanwhile Gaz looks at her like do you understand what you just agreed to? She's confused until he asks

"how old do you think Johnny is?"

Soap returns with two drinks in his hand - one she recognizes as her favorite - and asks

Whit's a bonny wifie lik' ye daein' in a shady boozer lik' that?

With a cheesy grin of course. :-)

[jays-rus]

· ➳ [WORD STAMP: SHEEP] (warning for child prostitution, human trafficking, and canon typical violence! could be considered graphic.)

it’s rare when jason loses control, but when it happens, it happens.

it hasn’t happened in a very long time. it’s probably because of the build up—the lack of an explosion, the lack of somewhere to put all his anger—that he finally explodes, and the rest of the bats are scrambling in his wake.

jason and dick had gone in together, whilst bruce and tim had gone through a different entrance. it was supposed to be easy to get inside, with jason posing as himself and bruce posing as matches malone, and it had been. they slipped from one room, to another, and dick was starting to itch at the way his cheap suit scratched against his skin. but he smiled through it, clenching, making sure to check on jason once every while.

every since he met you, of course, jason’s been pretty good with violence in general. he seemed much less trigger-happy and definitely made attempts to keep himself safer than usual, which was great—but, on the other hand, jason was descending into damian levels of intensity. he hit harder, he was sharper, and people were more afraid of the red hood than before.

but you’re the angel on his shoulder, and dick trusts that jason loves you to the point where he’d always consider you before making rash decisions. which is why, when they finally get to where they’re holding the merchandise, dick’s first thought is to you.

“oracle,” dick hisses, “call her right fucking now.”

along the walls of the room, children are chained up. they vary in age—the youngest, tim had grimly discovered a few days ago, is four, whilst the older is around fifteen—but they’re all children nonetheless, and they’re so out of it that they barely notice when jason and dick enter the room. the horror, though, lies in the centre of the room.

a girl. maybe six. completely naked, tied to a chair, and a camera pointed straight at her. the flashing red light of a livestream is taunting, but before dick can even get babs to shut it down, a shot’s echoed and the camera tears apart.

jason’s gun is smoking. dick is momentarily deafened from how close he had been to the shot.

dick’s eyes meet jason’s, and there’s a second of mutual understanding before they’re flying through motion. jason’s aiming and shooting at the chains that litter the wall, probably yelling at the kids to stay still but dick only can hear the ringing. 

gritting his teeth through the pain, dick flies across the room, barely glancing around for booby traps. when he gets to the sobbing girl, he feels absolutely revolting as his fingertips graze along her bare skin as he tries to get the ropes off. she’s wailing behind her gag, the sound piercing through the ringing in dick’s ears, and he tries to shush her and make comforting comments as best as he can, but his own hands threaten to shake if he isn’t focused enough.

“report!” bruce roars, comms crackling to life. or maybe it’s just dick’s hearing returning. 

“hood,” dick calls, or at least he think he does, “knife!”

bruce and jason are yammering away on comms, but jason takes a brief moment to toss dick a knife. even though jason’s voice is loud and clear through the communication devices, dick can’t hear him at all outside of it, and dick belatedly realises it’s probably because babs has turned up the volume to combat the ringing. he reminds himself to thank her later.

slicing through the girl’s restraints, dick makes a show of not touching her once she’s free. instantly, she’s scrambling across the pseudo-stage, out of the spotlight that shines down on her, shrieking in cries as she tries to hide her naked body. 

it’s moment like these that dick wishes he had bruce’s bat-belt or whatever the fuck it’s called. he’d have something in there to ease the situation, because he has something for every occasion.

“it’s okay,” dick coos, and he can finally start hearing his own voice filtering back in, “i’m not gonna hurt you, okay? are you cold? let me get something to cover you up with, okay?”

dick reached up to shed off his cheap ass blazer, but something flings into the back of dick’s head instead. dick whirls around to shoot jason a dirty look as he peels his brother’s jacket off of his head, but jason’s too busy releasing the rest of the children, not catching the brunt of dick’s glare.

he’s right, though, because dick’s betting than cheap suits is what this girl sees on a daily basis, so something unfamiliar might be better in this situation.

“look,” dick says gently back to the naked child, approaching very slowly, “this is my brother’s jacket—it’s very warm, and very clean, i promise. it smells pretty nice too, but don’t tell him i said that.”

the girl continues to scream, ducking out of reach, and so dick changes tactics. he lays down the brown leather on the ground, holding his hands up in surrender as he starts to walk backwards. the girl probably can’t even see through all her tears, but she does reach for the jacket. it’s freezing down here—she needs it.

“i’m moving,” jason says curtly, coming over to knock dick on the shoulder as a courtesy. “stay here. take care of the kids.”

“wait, hood—”

jason’s terrifying red helmet and gleaming white eyes shift from looking down at dick to looking down at the girl who is now swaddled in nothing but his jacket, and the two of them stare at each other for a moment.

then, very softly, jason swear. it isn’t picked up on comms, so dick’s pretty certain that most of his hearing has returned. tearing his eyes away, jason unholsters his guns and stalks out before dick can grab him.

dick instantly reaches for his earpiece, sighing as he looks around at the twenty-odd other children he’s been left in charge with. “hood’s gone solo,” he reports, “probably to find the people responsible. i’m here with eighteen kids, so i can’t move.”

“copy,” tim replies, “i’ll go looking. b’s currently beating up some of their enforcers.”

dick opens his mouth to reply, but stalls when he finally gets a good look at the girl’s face. he’s avoided it so far because he didn’t want her to feel as if she’s being scrutinised, especially since she was stark naked, but now dick sees what jason saw. he knows instinctively why this is going to be bad.

the girl looks like you. 

she’s got the same eyes, the same nose, and if dick didn’t know any better, she could’ve passed as your daughter. a very cute, very terrified, very abused daughter.

dick knows you and jason have been talking about settling down. getting married. having kids. a kid unlike the girl right in front of him. a girl who is completely naked, in the middle of a smuggling ring, and is eyeing dick like he’s going to pounce on her soon.

“fuck,” dick says to no one in particular.

as if on cue, a cacophony of bullets bang, rattling dick’s already throbbing brain. there are distant screams and yells, probably pleads for mercy too, but they’re all cut short, and today, dick doesn’t even have it in him to wince at jason killing. now, all he hopes is that jason doesn’t leave the building and accidentally kill someone who shouldn’t be killed.

“o,” dick hisses urgently, “have you called—”

“i have,” barbara replies, very calmly, “and she’s waiting outside.”

“outside?” tim cuts in, voice sharp. “outside here?”

dick exhales. “red, i’m going to need you to find hood and find him quick—last i hear he was shooting people up in the west area—”

there’s a thunder racket of more bullets, before dead silence. dick should’ve worn the suit underneath, not the fucking criminal disguise he has on which not only is freaking the kids out, but he can’t exactly launch himself in front of direct fire.

“oh shit,” tim says. “i found him. or where he was, really.”

dick inhales. “are they all dead?” 

tim pauses. then he answers, very tentatively, “i honestly…can’t tell. i’m gonna take ten to take pulses.”

“what do you mean, you can’t tell—?”

b arrives, slamming the door open. a few kids shriek, but somehow he’s in the batsuit, so it doesn’t take long to corral them.

bruce grunts in acknowledgement, nodding at dick. dick nods back, and they both do not broach the subject of jason.

the entire moving of the children is a blur, herding them out so they don’t see any of the unconscious men that b’s beaten with…well, let’s say a certain degree of violence that dick hasn’t seen in a long time. as soon as they’re out of the building though, dick is looking for you, head on a swivel to see anything recognisable.

“hood,” dick breathes, “hood’s—”

“i’m going back in,” b asserts. “you take care of the kids. where was hood headed last time you saw him?”

“up,” dick replies, distractedly. it takes him a solid few minutes before he catches sight of you leaning underneath a lamppost. you look disheveled, probably because getting a three a.m. call isn’t the most energising of all things.

dick moves to talk to you, to warn you, but a small hand grips his wrist and stops him.

it’s the girl in jason’s jacket. Her other hand is firmly keeping the jacket shut, and she looks so small.

fuck. dick needs to get her clothed. dick needs to talk to you. dick needs to get his hands on the man who set up this trafficking ring because that fucker is sick and deserves a lifetime of pain—

“he’s dead,” jason’s voice crackles through comms. “files in the safe.”

b is the first to reply. “hood,” he says, very slowly, voice echoing, “where are you?”

“the files are in the safe,” jason repeats, flatly, and there’s a crash of glass somewhere in the background. dick glances up, and through a window in the building, he sees jason bulldozing through a glass partition on the top floor. “you got that, red?”

“yes,” tim replies, quietly. jason gives one firm nod, before jumping out of an open window. there’s a moment when he just drop, and dick’s heart seizes, before he remembers that you’re here and you exist, so the fear easens even as jason whips out his grapple last minute. 

“hood,” b hisses, and it’s only after decades of knowing the man that dick recognises the terror in his otherwise apathetic tone. jason ignores him, swinging as his grapple hooks onto the lamppost just above you, and he lands with a light hop right in front of you.

dick can’t help but watch. it always gets him, the way jason just…submits. lets go. lets himself be vulnerable to you, and you only.

your eyes widen in that typical civilian way when you see just how drenched in blood your man is, and your hands tremble underneath the yellow lamp light as you reach for his face. jason drops instantly to a kneel, head hanging down, and you wrap your arms around him.

it’s like an artwork. the way jason vibrates with red and adrenaline, and you, in your white and brown pyjamas, wind yourself around him like you’re protecting him from the world.

dick’s breath hitches. thank god for you. he’s not sure jason would have ever stopped if you hadn’t been here.

“all clear?” babs asks.

you gently tug off of jason’s helmet, placing it gently on the ground next to him. your hands come back bloody, bright red underneath the lamplight, but you don’t shy away, and you hug jason closer.

blood smears on your clothes. neither of you seem to notice or care.

the girl tugs again. this time, dick tears his gaze away, and smiles warmly down at the kid, slipping his hand into hers. she’s deathly cold, and dick crouches down.

“all clear,” dick agrees. turning to the girl, he makes sure to smile as he asks, “let’s get warm, okay?”

the girl nods meekly, tugging jason’s jacket tighter. 

tonight is not a success. even though they got everyone—well, jason got most of everyone and bruce got the rest, they saved the kids, and all in all, the boxes are all checked, tonight does not feel like a win. dick leads the girl gently to the paramedics, who look just as horrified as dick first had been to see such a young girl wearing nothing but a brown jacket, and they instantly go find her some clothes to wear. the girl starts crying as soon as they wipe away the grime on her face, and one of the paramedics tells dick solemnly that they’ll have to do a rape kit.

dick closes his eyes. he’s just glad this whole thing is over.

apologies, that was lowkey intense. on another note, rya, you may ask, why is this word stamp using [SHEEP]? well, that’s because of this post right here that just. made me think things. like jason and reader. idk. anyways. have a nice rest of your day :)

tagging: @profoundgreenturtle

please send an ask to be added! comments may not be seen.

[jays-rus]

[jays-rus]

Ok, I'm done ✌️

[jays-rus]

BRING ME YOUR DESIRE, I CAN CURE YOUR DISEASE

IF YOU WERE A SINNER I COULD MAKE YOU BELIEVEEEEEE

[jays-rus]

[ Holding Hands ]

A little gift for @miasonwing 💖 tkm vv

[jays-rus]

Obama: U busy?

Harry: I’m shooting a perfume ad..

Obama: Is that the one i smelled on you last night? ;)

Harry:  Barack please……………i’ll see you later.

Obama: :D

[jays-rus]

WHAT DID YOU BUY? (Bruce Wayne!)

Summary: there is a problem in the surveillance system and Bruce isn't responding to the league's messages, so they go looking for him at Wayne Manor.

pairing: Bruce wayne x wife!reader

note: idk I liked the idea of bruce's wife being a bombshell, I'm seriously thinking about doing some sort of series on this topic

open request - Bruce wayne masterlist - hot wife serie

"You know, I don't think he's in trouble," Hal said, arms crossed, staring at the enormous gate of Wayne Manor. "Maybe one of his kids knocked something over on the computer and made a mess."

"Exactly!" Barry exclaimed, pointing at him as if he'd just solved a mystery. "And here we are, ringing the bell like two idiots."

There was strange interference in the global surveillance system. The Tower's sensors indicated a jammed signal coming directly from the Batcomputer. Diana was the first to send Bruce a direct message, one, two, three times. No response.

"It's weird" she had said.

"It's Bruce Wayne" Hal replied. "Weird is normal."

So they decided to act. Better safe than sorry. In less than a minute, they were in Gotham, standing at the entrance to the mansion.

"And Alfred?" Hal asked, ringing the bell again. "He always opens quickly."

"Maybe he's on vacation? Seeing the Caribbean?" Barry offered. Hal glared at him.

Diana, standing with her arms crossed, said nothing. Her expression was serene but alert.

Soft footsteps echoed behind the door until it opened, was this heaven?

You opened the door. You were barefoot, wearing a black silk robe loosely tied at the waist, the fine fabric leaving little to the imagination. Your hair was loose, a little messy compared to how they usually see you, and it fell over your shoulders. Your eyes were a little glossy, as were your lips, and you had that soft voice they'd already known... but never so closely.

"Is something wrong?" you asked, tilting your head slightly, as if the sight of two League members at your door wasn't at all strange.

It took Hal three seconds to blink. Barry made a sound that didn't sound human. Diana, thankfully, took back control. "Is Bruce available? There was a glitch in the Batcomputer signal. We're trying to contact him."

"Ah... yeah, I guess," you said, reaching up to straighten your robe, which clearly didn't help anyone's concentration. "I was using the Batcomputer... Bruce wanted to get me a present, and the computer there is really fast. Luckily, I was able to buy the lingerie I wanted."

Barry rolled his eyes at the ceiling as if that would save him. Hal blinked twice. Nothing changed. You were still there. In that robe. In that voice. With that damn confidence that made everything feel even worse. How could you talk about lingerie shopping in front of them so casually?

"And you shut down the system?" Diana asked, with the calmness of someone already accustomed to these situations.

"Maybe" you acknowledged with a half smile, lowering your gaze for just a second. "I'm not a big fan of Bruce's operating system. I shut everything down, and well... apparently I blocked an entire global surveillance network."

"And Bruce?" Diana asked, just as calmly.

"He went back to sleep" you replied. "He was up late... work stuff. You guys understand."

"Work, for sure" Hal repeated, without thinking.

You raised an eyebrow. "What else would we do until late, Hal?"

Hal opened his mouth to reply, but Barry jabbed him with an elbow so hard he nearly knocked him off balance. “Nothing! Nothing! You were probably working. You guys… do that. Work. A lot. All the time,” Barry said, his smile strained, his ears red to the roots.

Diana sighed with a hint of resignation and began to enter the house without waiting for further authorization. "We better check quickly. We don't want to interrupt... Bruce's rest."

"Oh, don't worry," you said sweetly as you moved away from the door frame. "He doesn't sleep much."

Just then, Bruce appeared at the top of the stairs. Shirtless. Hair all messed up. And a glare straight at Barry and Hal. "What are you doing here?"

“We thought you were in danger,” Barry said, seeming to evaporate.

Bruce stepped down slowly, crossing his arms. "I'm not in danger. What's in danger is your continued presence in this house."

You giggled, walking casually toward him. You stopped beside him and smoothed his hair, not caring about any witnesses.

"Sorry, love, I opened the door for you. I thought it was Alfred."

Diana, flawless as ever, continued, “The Batcomputer showed a signal of interference. You weren’t responding. We came to make sure you were okay.”

Bruce took another step down. His eyes slid toward you. “Was that you?”

"I'm sorry, love. I accidentally locked everything" you said, your voice so sweet any other man on the planet would have melted.

"So you've decided, what did you buy?" Bruce asked, before his brain could intercept the impulse.

You turned your head slowly, with a lethal smile. "Lingerie. Do you want to see?"

Bruce simply raised an eyebrow. “Jordan, Allen. Three seconds.”

"We're leaving now!" Hal said, pushing Barry toward the door with a desperation unworthy of a Green Lantern.

"Thank you for your hospitality! Sorry for existing!" Barry said, tripping over a rug.

The door slammed shut. The echoes in the hallway hadn't yet died away when Bruce let out a deep sigh, tired but clearly resigned to his fate.

You laughed softly, and before you could say anything, he had already taken you by the waist and lifted you up in his arms with that naturalness that always left you breathless. "Shall we go back to bed, Mr. Wayne?"

"Not until you show me what you ordered from Paris, Mrs. Wayne."

[jays-rus]

boo-boo✧₊⁺

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

pairing|bruce wayne x daughter!reader

summary|you see your father injured for the first time, it doesn’t go over well.

word count|1016 warnings|graphic depictions of injuries, a child crying, young!reader.

notes|made an ending with Alfred’s pov but it felt a little too long😕

“Daddy?”

Alfred had hoped that when Bruce returned, things would finally feel whole again — that your family would finally be complete. But lately, it felt like all he did was watch hearts break.

He hated holding you on long, sleepless nights while you cried for a father who never came home. Hated telling you Bruce couldn’t make it to yet another school event. Hated explaining that he wasn’t staying at the manor — that he refused to come home.

And now, he hated this most of all.

Your father was in a coma. And Alfred had to be the one to tell you.

The explosion at Bruce’s apartment in Crime Alley was inevitable, really — Alfred had been waiting for the day his recklessness caught up with him. He was only thankful that you hadn’t been there when it happened, that you were safe with him.

But fate had other plans.

You were the one who found him.

You’d been playing outside when he stumbled up the steps of Wayne Manor, broken and bleeding, desperate to die in the only home that had ever known peace. You found him collapsed on the floor — and you screamed for help until your voice broke, clutching his unresponsive body in your little arms.

Now you were here, standing beside his hospital bed, clinging tightly to Alfred’s hand as you peered over the bedrail to see your bruised and battered father. Your lower lip trembled. Your eyes were already welling up.

“Daddy got a boo-boo?” you whispered, pointing with one tiny finger at the massive purple bruise on Bruce’s chest, your gaze flicking nervously over his swollen face.

“Yes, sweetheart,” Alfred replied softly. “Daddy has a boo-boo.”

“Daddy’s hurt…”

You waddled closer to the bed, trying to climb up onto the cold metal gurney. Alfred bent down and lifted you gently after a few determined, failed attempts.

You settled onto your knees beside Bruce, your little hands curling over the sheet as you leaned in to nudge him gently. No response.

“Daddy’s asleep?” Your voice was thick and shaky.

Alfred nodded, but you didn’t stop. You shook him again — harder this time.

Tears began to fall freely down your cheeks, dripping onto your father’s chest. Your shoulders trembled as panic set in.

“Why won’t Daddy wake up? Alfie—he’s not waking up…”

Alfred’s heart twisted painfully. You didn’t fully understand the concept of death, not yet, but you knew fear. You remembered what it felt like — the cold silence when he collapsed in front of you. The terror of thinking he’d never open his eyes again.

“He just needs rest,” Alfred whispered. “More rest. It's best not to disturb him…”

He reached out to pick you up — but you pushed his hand away with a small, stubborn shove.

“No. I stay with Daddy. 'Til he wake up.”

You curled yourself into the small space between Bruce’s arm and chest, burying your face into his side as you adjusted on the hard metal bed.

“[Name]…” Alfred sighed, exhausted in every sense of the word. “You can’t stay here all night…”

He reached for you again, but you recoiled as if his touch was poison.

“You’ll catch a cold, child. I’ll bring you back tomorrow—”

But it was no use. You wouldn’t budge. After everything you’d seen, everything you’d endured — Alfred couldn’t bring himself to pull you away kicking and screaming. He just didn’t have the heart.

So instead, he laid a heavy blanket over your small body and set a timer to check on you every thirty minutes. He didn’t sleep much that night.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

The pattern continued for three days.

You insisted on being there, sleeping beside your father, waiting patiently for the moment he’d wake up. And Alfred let you.

Until now.

At 3:00 a.m., Bruce stirred for the first time.

You were still curled against his side when he groaned quietly and tried to lift his aching head, blinking against the fluorescent lights. His whole body screamed in protest. He had no idea if he was dreaming or hallucinating — he’d spent the past week floating through a fog of pain and lost memories. You. His parents. Alfred. All blurred together in sleep.

But then he saw you. His little girl.

Sleeping in his arms. Tear-streaked cheeks. Puffy red eyes. A tiny trail of drool.

“[Name]?” he rasped, his voice rough and dry.

You blinked awake slowly, rubbing your eyes with a tiny fist. And then you saw him.

“Daddy!” you gasped, eyes lighting up with a grin. “Daddy! You’re awake!”

He smiled, aching and raw. “Yes, sweetheart. Were you waiting for me?”

You nodded eagerly, climbing into his lap as he sat up with a pained groan, wincing as he pulled the wires from his chest.

“Come here, sweet girl.”

You settled against him carefully, your small hands brushing against the bruises along his ribs. His body was screaming in pain — but none of it compared to the ache in his heart.

He’d tried so hard to shield you from this life. But he had failed. And not just failed — failed you, the one person he couldn’t bear to hurt.

You frowned, gently tapping your finger against the large bruise on his chest.

“It hurt?”

His arms tightened around you.

“A little. But I’ll be okay,” he said softly. “Daddy will be okay.”

“Daddy gonna wake up?” you asked, voice so small, so scared.

Bruce nearly broke.

How had he never thought of this? That one day his daughter might go through the same fear, the same grief, the same loss he’d endured as a child. The very thing he’d built his life trying to prevent… and now he’d almost forced it onto you.

“Daddy will wake up,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Always. Always and forever.”

He held you tightly, burying his face in your soft strands, letting the warmth of your tiny body ease something deep inside him.

“No more boo-boos,” you mumbled against his chest.

He smiled through the sting of tears. Voice shaking.

“No more boo-boos.”

[jays-rus]

More frank p!links perhaps? I need him like I need water

Oh anon, you get it, You get me. Absolutely i can.. I had so much fun finding these ones <3

Spicy links that give frank castle vibes pt4

A selection of p!rn links, all sourced from twitter. As always, 18+ content so MDNI! Please make sure your logged in to be able to see! And as always asks are still very much open if anyone wants to share any thoughts or request specific link ideas also

Masterlist

Sundays and summer dresses (tit play/piv sex)

All the way in, nice n' deep (piv sex)

Wet n' warm wakeups (blowjob)

Between your thighs is his happy place (makeouts/pussy eating)

Franks guilty pleasure (titty fuck/dirty talk)

He knows exactly what you like (piv sex/hairpulling)

Showin off a new set (piv sex/clothed grinding)

Blowjobs and bar bathrooms (sloppy blowjob/cum play

Shower distractions (piv sex/intimacy)

Frank makes you work for it (pix sex/pushing back)

His favorite view in the bathroom mirror (piv sex/choking)

When Frank gets a little too pent up (handjob)

He's more than happy to indulge in your oral fixation (finger sucking)

When frank tests out toys with you (vibrator play)

Franks favorite place for you to be (face sitting/masturbation)

+ Cheeky bonus linkkkk <33

The quicker you make frank cum the quicker you can put him back inside (piv sex/pull out method/handjob)

[jays-rus]

“Do you want to make a stop for Batburger?”

[Incoherent concussed Jason noises]

[jays-rus]

[ Bruce is out at a comedy event with all his kids. ] Comedian: Are these your kids too? Brice: Half of them. Their parents wouldn’t let me legally adopt the other half. Comedian: So you stole them? Jason: He kinda did. Comedian: You know this doesn’t sound good.

[jays-rus]

Do you wanna play mermaids? Yay. Okay so my tail is light blue and I have ice powers. And I live in the Arctic sea and watch British sailors die horrible deaths while trying to find the Northwest Passage.

[jays-rus]

Damian defends the Red Hood. the family doesn’t know why, but it’s concerning. what reason would their youngest have to defend a crime lord? there must have been something more to it.

even after the identity reveal, Damian refuses to step down. the moment he perceives the family as being unfair to Jason, the moment they seem to overlook him or brush him off, Damian will be there to tell them off and remind them that, actually, Jason was talking first.

what’s probably even more dumbfounding to them by that point is that Jason lets it happen. it forces them to realize that Jason hardly fights for himself, to be heard or acknowledged. and for those of them that had been there when Jason first joined the family? it’s a painful reminder of the skittish boy they had first got to know

Damian takes his duties of brother very seriously. when Jason first joined their family back in Nanda Parbat, his mother had been very clear when explaining to him that his brother was in no state to speak or stand up for himself due to his catatonic state. Damian had made it his mission then to not only defend but also promote his brother’s interest. it would be unbecoming of him to let anyone diminish or take advantage of the more vulnerable member of their family until he could do it for himself

except that time never did happen. Damian still jumps to Jason’s defence at a moment’s notice and Jason still gets a little choked up when he gets to witness how how protective his little brother still is of him

[jays-rus]

Dick: Hey, Tim, your birthday is coming up, do you want anything?

Tim: Actually-

Jason, munching on a sandwich: Nah, that motherfucker was born by C-section. It's not his birthday, it's his release date.

Steph and Babs: *shoots water out their noses*

Bruce: JASON!