#she wasn't aiming for Bruce to begin with >w>

[dramatisperscnae]

[guess who just finished gotham knights again.

dick is Very Emotional rn]

[kenobers]

quid pro quo | jason todd x sionis!reader 18+

the official beginning of the jason todd x sionis!reader timeline you have an argument with your piss poor excuse of a father, only this time, it results in him draining your bank account. angry and freshly broke, you use the only logical coping mechanism; you fuck his rival's sexy son. tw: mndi 18+, problematic reader, daddy issues, oral sex, p in v sex w/ fem!reader, top!Jason, voyuerism (rooftop sex), brief daddy kink, jason is a little ooc but it's for the plot. reader doesn't know jason is red hood here. a/n: it's the prequel, baby !! quid pro quo | pride & periods | is this love? | tremble & shake | scorn to change my state

"Are you sober?"

"Am I what?"

You and Jason Todd were meant to be rivals. At least, you considered him a rival. He had never seemed to care. Granted, he was presumed dead for most of high school, taking any hope for legitimate academic competition with him. By the time he reappeared in Gotham, your father had already decided you weren't cut out to destroy anybody - although he hadn’t failed to remind you of what could’ve been the entire time Jason owned the Penguin’s hangout. 

You still hated the guy. His apparent death had killed all the worth your father saw in you. For him to have been alive this whole time was a major slap in the face. 

Secretly, you always thought your father wanted you to destroy Jason because he wished you were Jason. Was it really so fair that Bruce Wayne really had everything handed to him, including all the sons he could want. What was Roman Sionis stuck with? A squeamish daughter with no ambition, who couldn't even prove she was better than some adopted street kid.

Now you exist as more of a pet to him than anything else. Something for him to own, something he could keep leashed at his side, something he could brag about, as if he had any real pride for you. Which was why a single, sham threat to change your last name was enough to have your personal bank account closed.

Well, if you don't need daddy's name, you don't need his money either. It's just a lesson in responsibility.

Yeah, right. Like he wasn't going to find a way to keep you from making money of your own.

But, you could still prove your ownership over yourself. After several minutes of staring blankly at the wall when you realized your father hadn’t been bluffing, you dug to the bottom of your laundry to locate the cherry colored dress that got you into anywhere for free. You weren’t sure what it was you were aiming to accomplish, but the damn dress was going to ensure you didn’t need the Sionis money or name to get what you wanted. Your feet moved with a mind of their own right into your favorite bar, right into the perfect tall, dark and handsome ride. 

You hadn’t recognized him at first. You hadn’t seen him in person in God knows how long, not since you were 15, probably. There was nothing special about his jeans, Mickey Thompson t-shirt and leather jacket. He didn’t look like a prince with the lazy way he slouched against the counter at the far end of the bar. From the entrance, his face blended in with all the others, unremarkable and unimpressive. Until the slight tug of his upper lip suddenly had you back in freshman year English, pouting as the teacher praised your would-be rival’s take on Romeo & Juliet. 

Finally, a six-foot-something, Wayne branded plot began to formulate.

Of course, now you're rolling your eyes at him. You hate having to repeat yourself, even over the loud buzzing of the bar.

"I said, 'are you sober'. You look sober. Are you?"

Jason Todd blinks, like he still doesn't quite understand the question. He straightens his posture, jostling the untouched pint of something between his middle finger and thumb.

"I-yeah, I am. Are you?"

You cross your arms, roll your eyes again and ignore the question. Obviously, you're sober.

"Do you know who I am?"

He looks you over thoughtfully. His gaze conveniently lingers on the pop of your hip and the cleavage peeking out of your ruby neckline. Exactly where you want it. You snicker; so maybe he's a little slow, but at least he doesn't seem to be blind.

"You're Sionis' kid, aren't you? It's been a hot minute," Jason leans forward a little, magically more invested in the conversation. The ginger man standing next to him pauses his attempts to woo a brunette to raise an eyebrow at you.

"My dad hates you."

He scoffs, taking a half hearted sip of his beer.

"And bears shit in the woods, what else is new?"

You don't remember him having that stupid white streak in his too-well-tousled hair. It was sexy. You hated it.

"Fuck me."

IPA dribbles down his idiotically strong chin. His mouth goes a little slack as he blinks once again, harder and longer this time.

"What?"

Ugh, again with the repetition.

"Fuck me. Have sex with me," you reiterate as nonchalantly as if you're asking him to move over.

The redhead next to him starts cackling. Jason glowers at him, shoving the drink into his hand with one arm while pulling you closer with the other. It only takes him a gentle tug to pull your chest to broad chest. He leans down so his lips brush against your ear, his crooked nose nudging the side of your head.

"Hey, you sure you're sober?"

The warmth of his breath in contrast with his mouth, still cool from his glass, sends a shiver down your spine.

"I'm dead sober."

"Okay, you see how I might doubt that given you just walked up to me and asked me to have sex with you."

You push him away and it's like pushing into a brick wall. A very muscular brick wall. "Look, Wayne-"

"Todd."

"Whatever. Even if I wanted to drink, I couldn't because my father drained my entire bank account."

Jason tilts his head, causing a lock of white hair to fall across his crooked nose. 

"And why'd he do that?"

You hum amiably, curling your pretty maroon nails around his thick forearm. 

"I'll tell you if you fuck me," you promise, batting your eyelashes as you place your other hand over his heart. Much to your frustration, his heartbeat is slow and steady. His sharp face has lost its earlier shock. He looks at ease, pleasantly entertained, with a slight smirk and a cocked slitted eyebrow. 

"I think that's called extortion, baby girl."

"It's only extortion if I'm threatening you," you snap back. You should know, your father's an expert in it. You take a small breath, smoothing out your tone again, "I'm just keeping my business to myself. So, I'd call this more of a quid pro quo."

"It's a quid pro quo if I'm getting something substantial out of it," he says this but at the same time, two large hands are sliding over your hips with a featherlight touch. His nails briefly press into your skin. 

Something in your belly tightens. Maybe he’s a more worthy opponent than you’d initially assumed. 

You tip your head up as you stand on your tiptoes and sneak your much smaller hands under his jacket, brushing up his warm sides. He sucks in a sharp breath. 

"If you really had no desire to fuck me, this conversation would've ended by now,” your voice is dripping in something venomously sweet. “And I'm not going to claim I have any idea of what's happening in your own business, but if I had to take a wild guess as to who in this room has the most to gain from fucking Roman Sionis' daughter, you'd be at the top of the list. Even if it's just for the bragging rights."

"You should know you’re worth more than just bragging rights, princess,” he says, rolling a fold of your dress between his fingers with a condescending shake of his head. You wonder if he can feel the heat radiating from underneath. 

"Prove it."

"...and you're sure you're sober?"

"Wanna test my breath?"

He snorts at your bad line, but his index and thumb are already caging your chin between them. He considers you for one more moment, then kisses you.

You can taste the single sip of beer, but it’s not as strong as the fading taste of a cigarette. His lips move against yours with intent, as if seeking out a falter in your sobriety. Their search comes up empty, leaving behind nothing but a thin string of spit and the overwhelming desire for more of him.

"What's your plan then? Risk it in a bathroom stall?"

You loath how utterly girlish the grin on your lips is.

"Nah, I know a spot upstairs."

***

"You're freaky, you know that?” Jason teases as you push open the roof access. 

"The cameras up here have a delay. My dad's people won't be able to snitch until tomorrow morning, so we have all the time in the world,” you smirk at the way his eyes bug out, tugging on the collar of his jacket with a sly wink. “Don’t worry. The cameras don’t pick up anything that happens on the ground. Plausible deniability.” 

He gestures to the roof set-up. The ledge comes up high enough to hide from peeping neighbors, but a string of yellow Christmas lights keeps the spot well illuminated.

"Yeah? And what about other prying eyes? You aren't worried Batman's gonna show up and scold us for public indecency?” 

The mental image is funnier than you let him think. You give him an amused little hum as you press yourself against his chest, walking two fingers up his ridiculously prominent bicep. 

"Hmm, technically this is private property and besides, this is Red Hood's territory."

"Red Hood? You really are freaky.” 

His lips are twinged ruby from being a human breathalyzer. A thin sheen of your lip gloss reflects the warm light surrounding you. Little scars decorate his hard face like freckles. You trace over a recent nick under his eye. 

"Please fuck me, Jason.” 

His arms are still at his side. His fingers twitch, either from anticipation or anxiety. 

"You're sure you want this?"

"Fucking positive. Do you?"

The green of his eyes are shadowed by his hooded eyes. His unflinching gaze is locked in on you. There’s a weight to it that seems to put pressures on all the right places. 

"Oh, fuck yeah, I do."

He doesn’t stop to think this time before he kisses you. It’s harder than earlier, his hands roaming your body. He had his moment to explore your cherry flavored mouth, now he’s taking what he wants. What you both want. 

There’s no shared breath between you as you suck on his bottom lip, ensuring your lip gloss is smeared everywhere. A large hand snakes its way up your spine to grip the back of your head. You gasp as fingernails dig into your scalp and Jason takes advantage of your parted lips to run his tongue over yours. 

You rack your nails over his stomach, catching the muscular grooves of his abdomen to make his shudder. You flatten your palm to sneak it downwards when he retaliates by grazing over your tailbone. You quiver under his touch, feeling that obnoxious smirk on his face. 

“Tell me,” he pants between wet smacks, “if”, smack, “if anything’s”, smack smack, “too much.” 

This gives you pause. What a chivalrous sentiment from a man who’s about to ram his cock into you on the dirty ground of a bar rooftop where Red Hood might see just to trifle with your father. Actually, you weren’t sure anyone had offered you that sentiment before. It has you rubbing your thighs together. 

Something unmistakable and hard pokes your belly as your hips meet. His tongue feels along the ridges of your lips before licking between them, once again filling your mouth with him. 

Cigarettes have never tasted so good. 

The arm around your waist slides to fill his free hand with your ass. You alarm yourself by letting out a muffled moan when he squeezes. He’s going to make a mess of you much quicker than anticipated. 

It’s just because the cameras are picking this part up, you think to yourself, I’m still in charge, Jason Todd isn’t going to get the best of-

Your thoughts are interrupted by the hand on your ass rounding your hip. Two fingers play with the hem of your short dress and pull the skirt up to reveal the skimpy thong underneath. Jason finally pries himself away from your mouth to get a good look, letting out a low whistle as he admires the coordinating colors. 

“You’re so organized, aren’t you?” He croons in a much gruffer voice than he’s been using. The rough pads of his fingers knead circles into your thigh, making you keen. “Daddy must really be stressin’ you out, baby girl. You’re so tight, need to unwind…” 

You let out a little breath as the hand on your head moves to cup your chin. Jason’s lips are satisfyingly swollen and a rash of scarlet has started to spread across his cheeks, although it’s nothing compared to the heat rising in yours. The fingers at your thigh skim inward, ghosting over the elastic of your underwear. 

“This alright?”

Later you’ll curse yourself for not saying something snarkier or dirtier, for not grabbing the outline of his cock and reminding him whose idea this was…but right now, there’s nothing in the world you want more than for this man to touch your pussy. 

You nod, “Please, Jason-”

“Please, what?”

Oh, this fucker with his little smug expression. 

“Please…Please touch me, Jason.” 

Although every time you say his name, his chest tightens up beneath your palms. 

He cups your sex, feeling along the thinning string keeping you covered. Your eyes widen as you realize it’s clinging to your lower lips. His index and middle fingers are cold against the thin fabric of your thong. It's a sharp juxtaposition from his hot breath on your lips, then your jaw, then your neck. 

Dagger-like canines whet the skin of your throat. The tip of his tongue drags a straight line down your jugular while the tips of his fingers trace circles over your flimsy underwear.

“So wet,” Jason lets out a pleased hum, snapping the string with a thawk to make you jolt. “And in these pathetic excuse for panties? I wouldn’t be surprised if you left something behind in the bar.” 

Your natural instinct is to retort, but you don’t have a chance to get a word in before he’s pushing the flimsy fabric aside and swiping his middle finger through your slit. 

“Daddy makes you mad and the first thing you do is parade yourself around with your fucking pussy out. You just went out looking for trouble, didn’t you.” 

“Nuh-ah-uh,” you protest weakly, gripping his shoulders for support. He’s massaging your lower lips with false mercy. “Wasn’t looking for anything until I-ah-until-ahh-til I saw you.”

His canine bites down as his thumb presses your clit like it’s a button. Two fingers slip inside you with an embarrassing amount of ease and you whine as they scissor you open. 

“You really know what you’re doing,” you huff, a half hearted attempt at a joke. He pauses, as if he’s surprised to hear you say that. His fingers freeze up inside you, then start to pump in and out carefully - cautiously even.

“Maybe that’s just what you needed, hmm,” he muses into your skin, planting another wave of kisses along your jawline. “Someone who knows what he’s doing to help you loosen up.” 

He’s straining painfully against you. It seems unfair to let him do all the work when he’s also begging to be fucked to shreds. You reach for his cock, only for his fingers to retract from your cunt and curl around your wrist. 

You whine, both at the sudden lack of him inside you and your foiled attempts to gain some control. Your knees nearly buckle as he removes his arms all together to shrug off his jacket. But he merely tuts, “None of that, princess. Why don’t you lay back down? I think the cameras got enough.” 

Well, fuck it. You told him to treat you like a trophy, no point in confusing the man now. 

He drapes his jacket on the ground before twining his arms around your waist and shoulders to lower you down on top of it. The inside is surprisingly soft against the exposed parts of your back. 

“You just gotta let me take care of you, baby,” Jason coos, gently grabbing your ankles to move your legs apart. He takes his sweet time dragging your panties off, letting each callous on his hands hit your smooth thighs. “Look at that pretty fuckin’ pussy. You’re gonna taste so fuckin’ sweet.” 

Taste?

“What’re you-”

“Shh, trust me,” he says, coming up to kiss you. He pushes your dress up to your waist, stopping to rub your hip affectionately. “You’re gonna be glad I did this. We can stop if you get uncomfortable.” 

He kisses either thigh as he dips his head between your legs, his black hair tickling your skin. You suck in a breath of anticipation, but he steals it when he places an open mouth kiss on your slit. 

You crane your head to look at him. Not a single other person has done this to you before. You were beginning to think it was just some sort of myth, but the way Jason licks from your hole to your clit with a blistering, flat tongue is suddenly very real - and very good. 

He blows a harsh breath on your clit before delving back into your cunt. He licks his way into you, filling you with a new strange, wet sensation. His tongue is hot on your already burning core and you think you might melt into a puddle. You bite your lip, but it’s not enough to stop the pathetic cries that come out of you as Jason Todd, your alleged nemesis who never paid you any mind, the son of the dull pain in your father’s ass, eats you out. 

The sound is obscene and loud, masking your soft pants. The wet noise echoes off the high walls of the ledge while Jason works your cunt with a stupid amount of precision. His mouth is sloppy, engulfing you whole. But, his tongue is tactical, taking its time to draw out a map of all the places that make you moan and squirm. 

“Oh God, oh God!” You cry out, your hands flying to grab a fistful of black and white hair as he laps at you. His arms hook around your knees to yank you closer. He’s unreal, unrelenting in his dining. When he switches to deliver kitten licks to your clit, two fingers take his tongue’s place in your hole. 

You buck upwards as his fingers curl inside you, easily stroking at that sweet spot just out of reach of your own fingers. His free arm pins your twitching hips down, and that’s when you officially relinquish all control to him. 

“Jason, ahhh” you groan, every muscle and nerve in your body quaking. “Jason, I’m gonna…please let me…”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He sucks down on your button, letting his teeth graze the nerves in just the right way to send that unforgiving twinge up to your belly until it whites out your vision. Your orgasm floods his face, but he keeps licking until it stops. Only then does he pull away, giving you a shit eating grin dripping in more than just lip gloss and beer.  

“That’s a good fuckin’ girl, asking so nicely. And so damn sensitive, it’s cute.”

Your heart races at being called a good girl. You should be spent already, but something about the fact that he made you cum in only ten minutes makes you want even more. 

He rises to his knees and you stare at him in awe as his body towers over you, blocking out anything but the hungry gleam of his eyes, the carnivorous bite of his lip, the mounting sweat of his skin. Anything but him. 

The lights glow gold behind him, crowing your own personal Apollo with his halo. His pupils are blown out, but his stare hasn’t lost its cool. You, on the other hand, are trembling beneath him, your pussy clenching at the sound of his zipper coming undone. 

Your eyes bug out to match the size of the cock he pulls from his jeans. It’s stiff as it fills his grasp, already leaking into his palm. He grins proudly at your awe. 

“See why I wanted to warm you up, pretty girl?”

The adrenaline of the moment gives you the strength to sit up and press your worshipful lips to the ruddy head, revealing in the way it twitches. The remnants of your lip gloss add to its shine. Jason mixes it with his spit as he spreads it across his veiny flesh.  

“You’re a God, Jason Todd.” 

He bends down to reward your praise with a kiss, a briny tang replacing the burn of tobacco. Your hands come up to caress his jaw before dropping to his shoulders, proactively digging into his t-shirt. Your lips pull away from his to connect to his neck, repaying him for the bruises he decorated you with earlier. 

He hums in pleasure, tipping his head to give you better access. He smears your lipgloss residue onto his hand and lubes his cock with a Lime Crime Wet Cherry and spit cocktail. 

You’re so wrapped up in leaving a toothy imprint in the junction of his neck that you miss the hard switch in his expression. You yelp as he grips your thighs and hooks them over his hips, pinning you beneath him. Your torso flies back, but he reflexively catches your head before it can smack against the concrete. 

He continues to cradle you, steadying himself as he drags his tip along your slit excruciatingly slow. He tuts and taps your clit when you bite back a moan. 

“Don’t hold back now, beautiful,” he taunts, prodding your entrance with his blunt head. “What’s the matter, worried Red Hood might hear you?”

You try to grind against him and snarl when he pulls his cock away, “Don’t fucking tease me, jackass.” 

Jason slaps his cock against you, then rests it on your belly. He lets out an amused scoff, “Wasn’t I a God thirty seconds ago?”

“Forgot to mention I’m an atheist.” 

You cross your arms like you aren’t flat on your back with your legs up, but no poker face can hide the desperate squirm of your hips. 

The bastard shakes his head and the weight of him shifts over your gut, “You just can’t help being a brat, can you? And to think, you were being such a good girl f’me.” 

“Only because you were being nice-”

“I can be nice again, sweetheart,” his voice is low as he spits out the pet name. “But you gotta be patient.” 

“I wasn’t raised to be particularly- AH!” 

The head of his cock bullies its way past your labia and sits at the ready. You can already feel yourself stretching to accommodate him. It’s just the tip and it’s already bigger than anything you’ve ever had. 

“You ready?” He whispers. You nod with a strained whine, but it’s not enough for him. “Take a breath, I gotta hear your voice, pretty girl.”

“I-”

Your heart pounds so fast, it stops for the split second that those sharp greens irises soften. His thumb rubs a circle behind your ear. 

“Yeah,” you suck in one last breath. “I’m ready.” 

“Just - hmm - Just tell me if you need me to stop.” 

Your mouth falls open as he starts to push in. When you first saw his size, you had expected it to sting. But instead of sharp pain, he fills you with an instant and, based on the snail’s pace he’s moving at, neverending pressure. 

“Oh, baby…Oh, that’s it, that’s it, nice and slow.” 

It’s so much. It’s so good. Every bump and groove makes itself known as he buries himself inch by inch, rubbing against you. 

"Fuck, you have a big cock," you groan, letting your head fall back on his jacket. He has the audacity to snort as he sinks the rest of himself into you, until his hips finally grate against yours.

The hand holding your head slips out from under you and pulls down the strap of your dress. Your already stiff nipple becomes absolutely statuesque when it meets the night air. 

"Yeah? Well, you got a big fuckin' attitude, asking a man you barely know to come fuck you on a rooftop. You do this a lot?"

The edge of a callous catches your nipple. 

"No! Just f'you!" You squeak with a jolt. 

The callous turns into an entire paw, squeezing your entire breast harshly. You push upwards into the base of his palm, brushing your nipple against the defined lines. 

"Just for me? Just had to have me?"

Jason leans in closer, so you can feel each hot strained exhale.

"Had to have you!"

There’s little more than a hair between your noses. That big strong hand finds its way to your throat. 

"No one else pisses off your daddy as much?"

You have no explanation for what slipped out of you next. 

In your entire sexual experience, you had refused to speak them. And more determined men than this one had tried to squeeze it out of you. 

But something about the hand on your throat and the breath on your lips had you shouting, 

"You're my daddy!” 

Something flashes in his eyes and for a moment, you’re worried you fucked up. He freezes up. His face falls blank and his mouth goes taut as he considers your words. The hand supporting his weight jerks next to your head while you pant anxiously. You get the sense that this is a first for him too. 

Then he lets out a breathless laugh. 

"Yeah. Yeah, that's right, baby. I'm your daddy.”

He pulls out of you without warning or sympathy. Your hips chase his blindly, your hole weeping for his cock to come back. He sits back on his knees and hauls your ass over his thighs, spreading you open on his wide lap. 

"You holding on tight, baby?”

You waste no time securing fistfuls of his shirt, the white logo distorting in your clutch. He lines himself up to your entrance again, brushing the sweat off your brow. 

"You tell me if it's too much, yeah?"

“Of course, daddy.” 

He grins, his sharp canines glinting. “Good girl.” 

He abandons his slow and steady routine to shove himself into you. He so graciously gives you a moment to re-welcome him with a little squeeze before he’s pounding into you, ramming in and out of you at an unforgiving pace. 

You make a valiant attempt to move with him. Really, you do. But the man is actively reducing you to a huffing and puffing ragdoll. The angle he has you at leaves you nowhere to go but the end of his cock. You want to say something, to egg him on, however all that tumbles out of your gaping mouth is a series of choked uhs and ahs. 

That is until he hits a spot you didn’t even know existed and you let out an honest to God scream. In your defense, the speed at which he fucks you is utterly inhuman. If you didn't know better, you'd think it was Superman taking his fill of you.

He slows, moving just enough to rub up against that sensitive point. He revels in the way your legs crush his sides, your trembling knees digging into his ribs. 

“Oh, that feels good, doesn’t it, baby,” he groans. He plunges in as deep as he can go, lifting your hips like you’re made of clouds. Something in you pinches and burns as you open up even more for him.  

He readjusts you with a grunt and sets a new brutal rhythm; fucking you fast and hard, then easing up when he strokes something that makes you shudder.

“Pretty girl,” he mutters, “Good girl…so good…so so fuckin’ good…”

Like clockwork, you gasp every time he slows down and drags his cock in or out of you. He lets you feel every minute detail, graciously allowing you to appreciate what he's giving you, before he's striking every sweet spot like lightning again.

“Come on, let Red Hood hear you.” 

White, red and gold flashes before your eyes. Your mouth falls open dumbly as you cry out for your former woud-be-rival. Although there was ecstasy exploding from your core to your belly, the best feeling was him gasping your name in turn. 

He pulls out of you just as he finishes, your name still falling from his swollen lips. With a heave of his chest, he rolls off of you and lands with a thump at your side. You pant together, waiting for the stars to pause their dancing. 

“Gonna tell me why your dad took your dough now?” He finally puffs out. 

“Fuck, I don’t even remember,” you laugh hoarsely. Jason snaps his head up to look at you. Dumbfounded is an adorable look on him. 

“So you lure me into making a sextape for you, then conveniently forget your end of the bargain?”

“It’s not my fault you fucked my brains out,” you shrug as you sit up. You take an agonizing moment to stretch so you can enjoy the glare on his face. “Why do you wanna know so badly anyway?”

He sits up next to you, running a hand through his thoroughly tousled hair, “I’m gonna need another deal if you want me to start revealing my secrets.” 

Jason Todd’s a quick thinker, you have to give him that. You consider him, consider the possibility of extending this hook-up into a full fledged thing. There has to be more to gain than lose. If you play your cards right, maybe you can beat your father to destroying the Wayne legacy. Or…maybe you can get your revenge by weaving yourself into it. Either way, you’ll ensure you come out on top. 

“Tell you what,” you say, standing up and trying to ignore the way your legs shake. “I’m free tomorrow night. Do that thing with your tongue again and it might jog my memory. I’ll do something with my tongue and see if that doesn’t inspire you to share.” 

He scoffs, “You’re a little business mongrel, y’know that?” You roll your eyes, but extend your hand out to help him up. He looks at your hand for a moment, narrowing his eyes. Then he accepts it, cautiously wrapping his large hand around your smaller one like he’s handling a snake. “No more rooftops,” he decides. “And no more up close cameras.” 

You nod, “Fair. But I’m not calling you daddy again either. That was a one time thing.” 

Jason laughs. It’s just a short bark, but it’s genuine. “No problem. It’s not really my thing either. I just appreciated its dramatics for tonight’s purposes.” 

The corners of your lips twitch upwards. 

“So…We have a deal?”

He gives your hand a firm shake, although it doesn’t betray the suspicion in those unnerving green eyes. 

“I think you said it best yourself, princess. I think we have a quid pro quo.” 

Something heavy settles in your chest like a weighted blanket as you shake his hand. It’s not an uncomfortable feeling, it’s just that you sense Jason Todd is going to be around for a long time. And you’re going to get everything you can out of him. 

[bisexualsforprompto]

Maribat March Firsts

The Gotham trip was a trip of firsts for Marinette. First time in America. First time being in a different country without her parents. First time being left behind on the day she was supposed to go back to her home…

In reality, she should’ve seen it coming. After all, when Chloe had asked her to grab her makeup bag that she had “left” in the hotel, Marinette should’ve seen it coming.

Chloe didn’t leave anywhere without her makeup bag, but Marinette didn’t think about that, she just thought it would be the nice thing to do to go get it. Adrien was going to, but Lila was clinging onto him for dear life.

Normally, getting Chloe’s items would be Sabrina’s job (as proclaimed by Chloe), but Sabrina wasn’t able to make it on the trip. As if Chloe asking Marinette to do something wasn't a red flag enough, Lila had been getting real chummy with Chloe.

Regardless, Marinette went to get the makeup. When she had gone to the hotel lobby where Chloe said she left it, Marinette found only dust.

The concierge eyed her warily, but because it was Gotham, Marinette wasn’t surprised. Marinette was however surprised to call Alya and get a frantic answer, “Marinette! Girl! Where are you?!”

“I’m getting Chloe’s makeup...which is nowhere to be found.” Marinette said, her mind working on overdrive.

“Ok, well get here fast! Lila told everyone that you were already on the bus, so Bustier told the bus driver to leave! We’re on our way to the airport!!!” Alya exclaimed.

“What?!” Marinette shrieked, getting dirty looks from the concierge. She ran outside of the hotel. Where there bus had been parked down a few blocks further was nowhere to be seen. “Can’t Miss Bustier come back for me?!”

Marinette started panicking. She paced up and down the sidewalk, debating whether or not she should run around Gotham trying to find the bus, or wait for Bustier to come back for her.

“Adrien and Nino are trying to get her to turn the bus around, but we’re stuck in major traffic girl! And this bus driver is ancient! He can’t hear what Nino and Adrien are yelling at him to do!”

“Oh what am I gonna do?! What am I gonna do?! Alya!” Marinette whisper-shouted walking towards the end of the block. “Alya?! ALYA?!”

Marinette pulled her phone back, and was met with a pitch black screen. She pressed the on button frantically. She was out of battery.

If Marinette cursed, she’d be cursing enough to make Batman blush! But instead, she was racing up and down the sidewalk, hoping Miss. Bustier would come back for her.

In her panicked frenzy she ran into a dark haired woman with a formal business suit on. “My god!” She exclaimed.

“I’m so sorry, miss!” Marinette shouted with wide eyes.

“It’s alright!” The woman assured, “What’s got you in such a frenzy?”

Marinette took a deep breath, “Somyclassisonthisfieldtripandtheresthisliarandshemadeeveryonethinkiwasonthebusbutimnotandtheyleftwithoutmeandnowimgonnabestuckingothamforever!”

The woman gave her a dumbfounded expression and her eye twitched, “Could you slow down a bit, honey?” She asked calmly.

Marinette breathed out raggedly and nodded her head. “I’m from a visiting class from Paris. We’re on a class field trip to Gotham, but today was our last day, and the bus just left without me! They’re on their way to the airport without me! And my phone just died! So I can’t call for help!”

“Honey calm down.” The woman said, kneeling on the sidewalk and holding onto Marinette’s shoulders, “My name is Betty Bates. I’m the district attorney in Gotham. Is your class going to the Gotham Airlines?” Marinette nodded silently.

“Ok, well I can take you. Are you comfortable with that?” Betty asked her. Marinette nodded again. “Alright, let me bring you to my car, we’ll have to be quick though, I’m not sure when your airplane leaves.”

Betty took Marinette’s hand and led her around a corner. Betty smiled at her and pointed to her car, Marinette was just about to place her hand on the door when she heard a scream.

It was Betty. Marinette turned around to see the Joker, in all of his psychotic glory, laughing maniacally at Betty who was writhing on the ground laughing too, after being hit from one of his guns.

“Wow girly!” He shouted, “You could pass as a Wayne!” He eyed her up and brought his hand to her cheek. Marinette slapped it away and ducked underneath his grasp.

“That wasn’t very nice.” Joker pouted before laughing again. Marinette scowled. “Oh come on! Put a smile on that face!”

Joker aimed his gun at her. Marinette dodged in the nick of time again, she tripped, being far more clumsy as her alter ego. She tumbled around in a somersault-like fashion until she crashed right at the feet of one Harley Quinn.

“Leave the kid alone!” Harley yelled, patting her baseball bat. Catwoman and Poison Ivy were at her side.

“It’s not nice to pick on defenseless kids Joker.” Ivy said with malice in her voice.

“And who are you to stop me?!” Joker cackled.

“We’re not.” Catwoman said, “But they will.”

“Who?”

In a flash Batman and his family surrounded the Joker. Marinette heard blows land, but she didn’t see a thing. Harley had picked her up and was ushering her to safety.

Marinette couldn't process anything. Everything was beginning to be too much, too much. The last thing she heard was Harley saying,

“The kid doesn’t look too good!”

•~•~•~•~•

Marinette woke up being cuddled by two hyenas.

“Bud, Lou, shoo! She’s wakin’ up!” Harley exclaimed, running over to Marinette.

“Thank god, I did not want to have that call to Bruce.” Catwoman said, “I can’t believe he didn’t tell me he adopted another one.”

“A-Adopted?” Marinette asked groggily.

“You are one of Bruce’s kids aren’t you?” Poison Ivy asked, suspiciously.

“B-Bruce?”

“Bruce Wayne?” Ivy said with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t- I don’t know any Bruce Wayne’s.” Marinette said, “My parents are back in Paris...Paris! Oh kwami! I need to get to the airport!”

“What?!” Catwoman shouted. The other women were starting to pick up on her accent. “Oh my god…”

“We basically kidnapped a kid!” Harley pulled at her pigtails, “Bats is gonna kill us!”

“Babe, calm down.” Ivy said walking over to Harley. She focused her attention onto Marinette next, “You said you’re from Paris?”

Marinette nodded.

“What's your name?”

“Marinette.”

“Marinette, is your school here on a trip?”

“Yeah...but they left me behind, and they’re on their way to the airport without me! Kwami! Their plane has probably already left by now!” Marinette exclaimed.

“They left you behind?” Harley asked in disbelief.

Marinette nodded, starting to panic more.

“They behind in the crime capital of the world?!” Catwoman seethed, barely hiring her anger. She reached for her phone and started angrily punching numbers in. “Bruce? Yeah, it’s me. I need you here right now...Not like that you idiot! Just...get here now! And bring some of your dumbass children, I could use them.”

Catwoman hung up her phone with a sigh, “Bruce is on his way.”

“Good. In the meantime, tell us some more about your class little miss.” Harley said, bringing her baseball bat into her arms.

“Well there are these two girls. A liar and a bully. They’re dead set on trying to make my life miserable.” Marinette began.

“Did ya tell your teacher?” Harley asked.

“I...have, but she doesn’t really help. She sides with them most of the time.”

“Oh really? Why?”

Marinette rolled her eyes, “something about me having to set an example. ‘Taking the high road’ and all that.”

“What?! That’s absolute bulls-“

Harley and Catwoman shut Ivy up with a glare.

“I have a couple friends in the class, but the liar hangs on Adrien all the time, he can barely ever get away from her! Alya and Nino try to help me, but Chloe always finds a way to rile Alya up and then Nino has to make sure Chloe isn’t murdered an-“

“So does that make Chloe the liar?” Catwoman asked.

“Yeah,” Marinette huffed, “I was okay at handling her until Lila showed up— she’s the liar.”

“What does she lie about?” Catwoman asked with genuine curiosity.

Marinette sighed, “Me bullying her mainly. She lies to my class about knowing a bunch of famous people, the lies could be disproven easily, but my classmates just trust her!”

“They’re really that dumb?” Escaped from Ivy’s mouth before she could stop it.

“Yeah,” Marinette shrugged, “Miss Bustier has been our teacher ever since we started school. She’s the kind of teacher who tells people that everyone is a good person. She doesn’t prepare anyone for the real world.”

“Then it’s sure foolish to come to Gotham of all places.” Harley muttered.

“Yeah, why would anyone plan a trip here?” Catwoman asked.

Marinette’s shoulders sagged and she got a tired expression on her face, “I planned another trip. I made the deposits and everything. We were going to go to Spain, but the moment I announced the trip Lila burst into tears and made up some illness she had, saying that she wouldn’t be able to go.” Marinette rolled her eyes, “And of course we had to make a new trip just because of Lila. The school lost so much money from non refundable deposits! According to Miss Bustier, Gotham was the only place we could afford.”

“They seem like real bitches! Really, lying about something so stupid and then your teacher making you plan a trip.” Ivy huffed. Catwoman and Harley cast her dirty looks, “What?”

“Well, I’m actually the class representative, so it was my job to plan the trip to Spain.” Marinette said, “I had a lot of really nice things planned.”

The group could hear the exhaustion and disappointment in her voice.

“Sweetheart, that environment is toxic! Trust me, I have a PhD in psychology, and no teacher should ever be putting that much on a student!” Harley said, ruffling Marinette’s hair.

“Can you tell us the liar, the bully and your teachers full names?” Catwoman asked, uncapping a pen.

“W-why?” Marinette asked with fear in her voice, “I don’t want them to get in trouble.”

“Hey,” Harley said softly, “They can’t just get away with what they’ve done to you. I can tell there’s more too, PhD remember? You’re baring more than a kid should ever be, I can see it in your eyes… Catwoman’s friend Bruce, has lots of connections, he’ll be here soon and I’m sure he’ll be able to look into them. I know you’ll feel better if they get what they deserve.”

“O-okay. The liar is Lila Rossi. The bully is Chloe Bourgeois. And my teacher is Caline Bustier.”

“Thank you sweetheart.” Harley said, pulling her in for a hug. Ivy raised an eyebrow, Harley just gave her a smirk, “I’m a natural with kids.”

At that moment a knock came from outside.

“That’s Bruce.” Catwoman confirmed as she went to the door.

A tall man in a suit and tie case in, “Catwoman.” He greeted. Three others followed in behind him.

“That’s it?” Catwoman furrowed her eyebrows, “I know you have more.”

“Well you didn’t give me much notice. Cass was...practicing and Tim is still at work. What do you need anyway?”

As Catwoman and Bruce discussed, the three boys that had followed him in came up to Marinette.

“Hey there!” Exclaimed the tallest one, “My name is Dick, that’s Jason, and the smallest one is Damian.”

“TT.”

“We’re Bruce’s sons.” Dick said politely, “Who are you?”

“M-Marinette.”

“Nice to meet you Marinette!” Dick smiled dazzlingly. “Where are you from?”

“France.” Marinette said, slightly amazed that Dick had realized she wasn’t from Gotham without Marinette saying more than her name.

“Oh! Are you the Paris trip that came here?”

Marinette nodded.

“Weren’t you supposed to leave today?” Dick asked, cocking his head to the side.

“She was, but her teacher left her behind.” Ivy butted in.

Dick scowled, “Really?”

“She didn’t even do a headcount?” Jason asked.

“If she did, she probably would’ve come back for me.” Marinette murmured.

“Disgraceful.” Damian turned up his nose, “But are you incapable of getting there? You could’ve called a cab, or one of your peers.”

“Damian, don’t be rude.” Dick warned.

“My phone’s dead.” Marinette grumbled.

“And we just saved her from an attack by Joker. We brought her here because we thought she was one of yours.” Harley said.

“You’re right.” Jason examined Marinette, “I sure hope you have parents kid, or Bruce will adopt you.”

Marinette giggled, “I have parents.”

“Shame, could’ve used a little Pixie as a sister.” Jason teased.

“Dick,” Bruce yelled, startling the everyone out of their conversation, “Check to see if the flight to Paris has taken off yet.”

Dick pulled out his phone and began to type rapidly. Marinette waited with baited breath. “B...It left…”

Marinette deflated.

“When’s the next flight to Paris?”

“Two days from now…”

Bruce sighed. “Alright, we’ll take the jet.”

“Jet?” Marinette wondered out loud.

“Yep,” Jason said popping the p, “The Wayne family jet.”

“Father if we leave now, we can make it to Paris before the other plane.” Damian said, looking at Dick’s screen.

“Is that okay with you Marinette?” Bruce asked.

“Yes please, that would be amazing, thank you.”

“Okay, we’ll go now. Alfred is in the car, so we can head straight to the airport.” Bruce said.

“Wait.” Dick said, “I don’t think I can spare seven hours, you know with our nighttime activities.”

“Right…” Bruce trailed off, “Jason and Dick, Alfred will take you home once we get to the airport.”

“TT. What about me, father?” Damian asked, folding his arms.

“I’ll be flying the jet, and I’m sure Marinette would like some company.” Bruce suggested. It seemed like a command to Marinette.

“Fine.”

“Alright.” Bruce brightened, “Let’s get going then.”

“Thank you Catwoman, Harley and Ivy!” Marinette called as she walked out of the door, trying to keep up with the Waynes.

“You’re welcome sweetie!”

•~•~•~•~•

Marinette sat in silence across from Damian, the only noise being the humming of the jet. She felt awkward, but at the same time, the silence was comforting, it gave her time to process.

And boy, did she realize that she had a lot to process.

If only I hadn’t given Adrien Kaaliki, she thought. She hadn’t expected to get separated from him, so in case there was an akuma they could go together, but obviously that didn’t work out well.

Marinette almost sighed, maybe if she was a better guardian and less reckless she would be on the plane with her friends, and not be wasting Mr. Wayne’s time.

“So,” Damian began, breaking the silence, “Father told me about the liar in your class. Why didn’t you stand up to her.”

“Well it was a mixture of things,” Marinette sighed, “She’s got my class wrapped around her finger, and my teacher too, plus I didn’t want to get her akumatized, that wouldn’t have looked good, and-“

“Akumatized?” Damian asked.

“Yeah, you know? By Hawkmoth!”

“Who is that?” Damian asked, scrunching up his nose.

“Paris’s supervillain...you really don’t know?” Marinette was shocked.

“TT, I had no idea such a thing existed in Paris.”

“Yeah, the mayor tries to keep it under wraps.” Marinette sighed, “Plus I think the magic of the miraculous makes keeps it covered up, if that makes sense.”

“Interesting…” Damian said, “Tell me more about your home.”

Marinette’s eyes lit up, “Well besides Hawkmoth, we actually have a lot of really amazing things! For one, the Eiffel Tower, but that’s the big attraction! We have many others too, the Louvre, the Sacre-Coeur, André’s ice cream and my parents bakery is one of the best in Paris!”

“Interesting. What kind of goods do they sell?” Damian asked.

Marinette gave him a funny look, “Your average pastries, bread, and sweets! Chat Noir and Ladybug have eaten there before!” Marinette proudly stated on behalf of her parents.

“Chat Noir...and Ladybug?”

“Oh right!” Marinette facepalmed, “They’re the heroes of Paris!”

Damian paused for a minute, “What do you think of them?”

“Pardon?”

“Are they good heroes? Could they use more help?”

“I think they’re pretty capable.” Marinette said a little more defensively than she wanted, “S-sorry, it’s just...Their our heroes you know?”

“I understand.” Damian said, “I’d react the same way if someone who didn’t know the situation in Gotham asked that about our heroes.”

Marinette sighed, “It’s so weird that these are the times we live in. Supervillains are just normal.”

“I suppose it is…” Damian pondered thoughtfully, “It’s odd for me, some things that aren’t normal for most are normal for me…”

“H-how so?” Marinette stuttered out, “I d-don’t mean to pry! You have to tell me. I mean you don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry.” Marinette was as red as a tomato.

Damian let out a low chuckle and smiled slightly, “My life has been surrounded by a lot of death.”

Marinette’s face dropped, “I’m sorry. That must be hard to talk about, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“I feel at ease with you Marinette. I know that’s forward, but it seems I don’t mind talking to you.”

“Really? We’ve only known each other for like an hour.” Marinette said quizzically.

“I suppose I’m odd as well then.” Damian gave her an expression that she couldn’t quite place.

She was surprised that he had felt like that with her.

She was surprised that she felt the same.

She looked at the boy across from her. His skin was a rich, dark, toned tan that complemented his piercing emerald green eyes. His face has defined features and his cheekbones could cut through steel. His black hair was naturally spiky and tousled in a way that made him effortlessly beautiful. She could tell even from his conservative black turtleneck that he had muscles.

Marinette blushed inadvertently, realizing how handsome the man before her really was, “S-so what else is special about you?”

“Special?” Damian smirked.

“Ummm...Sorry I just mean-“

“You don’t have to apologize all the time.” Damian said, “I was...teasing.”

Marinette held back a smile, he didn’t seem like the teasing type.

“Well you’ve met Todd and Grayson, but I have another brother, and a sister, and a few honorary family members.” Damian explained.

“That’s so amazing. I’m almost jealous, I wish I had siblings.” Marinette said tracing the hem of her skirt.

“They’re not all their cracked up to be…” Damian grumbled pushing his black hair away.

Marinette laughed and beamed, “You’re funny, Damian.”

“That’s not how most people would describe me.”

Marinette’s expression turned to worry, “How would they describe you?”

“Cold. Off putting. A demon of sorts.” Damian said blankly.

“I-I’m sorry. That’s awful.” Marinette said, “If...If it makes things better, I don’t see you that way.”

“It does...Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger than people you’ve known your whole life.” Marinette remarked.

“You’re a lot smarter than you pretend to be, aren’t you?” Marinette blushed. “I can tell your facade you put up isn’t really you.”

“Oh?” Was all Marinette could muster.

“You’re a lot stronger than you look.” Damian said, “And clever. Am I wrong?”

Marinette shook her head, “I’m underestimated a lot I guess...or used.”

“Hmm.” Damian tapped his cheek, “I think the clumsy baker’s daughter is a protection. They’re your walls because you’ve been used. You are a lot like me in that respect…Am I hot, or am I cold?”

Before Marinette could stop it, “You're very hot!” Escaped her lips. She clamped a hand over her mouth and blushed.

Damian chuckled, “Thank you Angel.”

“Angel?” Marinette blushed.

“Well if they call me a demon, you must be an angel, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I’m not sure my class would.” Marinette said, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Then they’re idiots. You’re obviously a sweet person who looks out for everyone, isn’t that why you were left behind too?”

Marinette nodded.

“Then who cares what they think?” Damian scoffed.

“I have a feeling I’ll learn a lot from you.” Marinette mused.

“And I you.” Damian said, “Actually...I’m sure I can convince father to let me stay in Paris for a while when we drop you off, maybe we could go out somewhere?”

“Is the sly Damian Wayne asking me on a date?” Marinette teased. Red flooded Damian’s cheeks and danced away quickly.

“Well I suppose, if you’d like it to be one I would not be opposed.”

“Then I would like it to be one.” Marinette smiled. “Maybe you can meet my parents!”

“Wow, meeting the parents already? Aren’t you rather forward, Angel? I don’t even know your last name.” Damian smirked.

“Well I’ve met your father.” Marinette pointed out, “And for your information, my last name is Dupain-Chang.”

“Beautiful.” Damian remarked.

“Actually if you put it together it means ‘to make bread.’” Marinette laughed. The color came back to Damian’s cheeks.

“Well your first name is beautiful.”

“T-thank you.”

“Of course Angel.”

•~•~•~•~•

Seven hours passed more quickly than Marinette could’ve ever realized, Damian was so easy to talk to. By the time she knew it, they had landed in Paris.

“Father.” Damian said once he had helped Marinette off the jet, “I’d like to request some time in Paris before we depart again, Marinette and I are...going on a date.”

Bruce held back a smile, “You can have a few hours, I need to fuel the jet back up anyway. Have fun.”

Damian took Marinette’s hand and started to lead her away.

“Oh and Marinette.” She turned back to Bruce, “I’m glad we met.”

“Me too Mr. Wayne!” Marinette exclaimed before going off with Damian.

Marinette led him towards her bakery only to see her classmates walking her way.

Damian had been right, they had arrived in Paris before them, and from the shocked look on Lila’s face, it was clear they were surprised she arrived at all.

“Marinette!” Alya exclaimed, embracing her, “Why didn’t you answer your phone?! I was so worried! And how did you get here? And who’s this?”

Adrien and Nino approached them. “My phone died Al, sorry! Mr. Wayne flew me here, this is Damian.” Marinette motioned to the boy beside her.

“Wait Mr. Wayne...and Damian? Marinette did you meet the Bruce Wayne?!” Alya squealed.

“You know him?” Marinette asked. Adrien snorted.

“You really don’t know any celebrities out of fashion do you?” Nino laughed.

“Wait celebrities...that’s why you had your own jet?!” Marinette shrieked.

Damian held back a laugh, “You didn’t know?”

“No?!” Marinette said still hysterical, “No, I didn’t!!!”

Alya laughed, “This’ll take a while for her to process. Anyway, we have to drop our bags off, I’m so glad you're safe and here.” Alya hugged Marinette again, “Enjoy your date!”

“How’d you know?” Marinette asked.

“Well I didn’t before.” Alya winked, “Have fun you two. And if you break her heart, I break you, got it pretty boy?” Alya shoved a finger at Damian.

“If I break her heart, I will gladly let you.”

“That’s the correct answer. Bye Mari!” Alya waved walking off with Adrien and Nino.

Then came a scream of unbridled rage. It was loud. It was long. And it was undeniably, Chloe’s.

“I can’t believe this! Dupain-Chang is going on a date with a Wayne! And our plan didn’t work!”

“Plan?” Damian asked.

“Oh don’t act so surprised!” Chloe spat, “Lila and I planned right from the beginning to make sure your little girlfriend wouldn’t make the trip back, but it’s not fair that everything worked out for her!” Another scream, “I’m calling Daddy!”

Chloe stormed off.

“She’s lying!” Lila exclaimed as the rest of the class turned to her, “I had nothing to do with Marinette not showing up on the bus!”

“Even that is the case, which I doubt,” Damian started, “You’ve still lied about many things. That’s slander Miss Rossi. Father has already had his lawyers start compiling a case on you when he learned about you.”

“Is that really necessary Mr. Wayne?” Miss Bustier asked nervously, “Lila wasn’t causing any harm.”

“Oh? Like how you weren’t causing any harm? You’ll also be hearing from my lawyers. Negligence will be easy to prove against you. There is an obvious duty for a teacher, you obviously breached it, and I’m sure the Wayne lawyers will be able to prove that it was the causation of Marinette’s harm.”

“I-I…” Miss Bustier stood paralyzed in a dazed stupor.

“Come on Angel.” Damian said, extending his arm. Marinette took it and they walked away from the chaos and destruction Damian had just wreaked.

“Let’s go on that date, shall we?” Marinette smiled, creating the newest chapter of her story.

In the end it really was a day of firsts… First time Lila’s lies crumbled before her. First time Caline Bustier was called out for everything she had done. First time Marinette went out on a date.

But for all the firsts that Marinette had that day, none of them would be the last.