#trying new jason design

[ky-landfill]

Confession, sometimes I come on to your blog just to scroll through the emotions your art puts out 💕.

Throwing in a prompt while I'm here: Stubborn Tim?

Thank you for always being so inspiring!

[s-darling-art]

Jayrose nation this next one is for you !!!

Forehead kiss to whoever knows which panels I’m redrawing

[dollfacefantasy]

IF I WAS A RICH GIRL ♡

pairing: bodyguard!jason todd x bratty!fem!reader x bodyguard!dick grayson

summary: for the first time ever, jason needs dick's help with a client. upon meeting you, dick understands why. you're a handful - bratty, needy, the whole deal. luckily for everyone involved, dick has a soft spot for brats and jason has a tendency to follow in his footsteps.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, threesome, voyeurism, exhibitionism, hair pulling, praise/degradation, gun play, brat taming, dacryphilia

wc: 12.9k

a/n: i did not intend for this to be so long, but i am physically incapable of shutting the fuck up unfortunately. anyways comm for the sweetest ever @fearcvlt. thank you again hehe. as always reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

part 2

Dick watched the numbers above the elevator door light up one at a time. Every couple seconds, the soft glow moved one space to the right. It started with 1, 2, 3 and now landed on 67, 68, 69. Finally 70 lit up and a soft ding sounded through the cabin.

He shifted his duffel bag on his shoulder and took a deep breath. When Jason had texted him a few days ago, he made this situation sound dire.

Dick had been in the middle of working out, pulling himself up and down using the rings hanging from the ceiling of the gym. The chime of his phone pulled him from the focus that came with his muscles burning and sweat dripping from his hairline.

'Are we allowed to drop clients?' was the first message he saw.

But then another quickly followed.

'It's been a full twenty-four hours.'

At first he wondered if it was a joke, but Jason didn't really joke about clients.

He tried thinking to himself what case he'd even been assigned to. That gig at the shipping yard had wrapped up by now, and that stalking victim had canceled on them for another security firm.

Then he remembered. That Monday Jason was supposed to start with the senator's daughter.

Something must have really been wrong for him to want to drop that. It was one of the best jobs they'd been offered since starting up their agency. It was full-time protection, meaning round the clock, 24/7 pay.  Also a high profile contractor like a senator meant word of mouth getting around to his colleagues, similar types who would want some security for their own twenty-something-aged brats.

'We can't drop her. Maybe I can see about someone swapping cases with you. Did something happen?' was all he responded with.

The reply was instant. 'I'll take literally anything else.'

'She can't be that bad,' he sent in return.

'You take her then. Find out for yourself.'

He rolled his eyes at his dramatics. There was no way you could really be so awful. While Jason didn't joke about work that much, he loved to complain. Shaking his head, Dick typed back a final message.

'Keep your head for the next few days. I'll come see what I can do over the weekend.'

So that was what he planned on doing for at least the next five or so days. He had said the weekend, but it was Thursday now, and he didn't have to do anything else till next Wednesday. Plus, he figured Jason would try his hardest to rope him in for longer if things with you hadn't changed.

He walked into the entrance hall of the penthouse, eyes briefly scanning his surroundings like they always do upon entering somewhere new. The design was sleek. A classy white end table sat below a large mirror with delicate decorations adorning its surface. A plush rug rolled down the hallways to a set of French doors.

One glance around told him this was all expensive. Every detail chosen by someone young, experiencing their first taste of independence. It was cute in a way. At least he thought so. He could only imagine the distaste Jason had reacted with upon seeing the pink candles or vases of dainty flowers.

He continued in the direction of what he assumed was the living room. Though he had only taken a few more steps across the fuzzy rug before he heard loud voices muffled by the doors ahead. He paused and narrowed his eyes for a moment, trying to determine the severity.

The first voice he knew belonged to Jason. It boomed with annoyance, loud and brash. The other was higher pitched.  He waited a few moments, feeling out the rhythm of the argument. Back and forth, back and forth. There was no third party, which meant it wasn't any serious danger.

He took another breath and braced himself to be put in the middle of whatever spat you two were having. Jason still hadn't been clear about what his exact problem with you was, so he didn't know what to fully expect. From the few things he had said over the phone, he gained the impression you were just a spoiled rich girl, and Jason's temper wasn't made to deal with any of those.

Grabbing one of the bronze handles, Dick pushed the door open. From where he stood in the alcove that held the doors, he didn't think either of you had noticed him enter.

The scene looked as he expected. Jason leaned against the pristine ivory island in the kitchen while you stood at the back of the large taupe sectional that spanned through the living area. You had your arms crossed over your chest, your foot looking as if you had just stamped it on the hardwood below. Jason, on the other hand, appeared as though he was about to explode. His fingers rubbed at his eyes before he spoke.

"For the last goddamn time, I'm not taking you, so find something else to do.”

"No. It's not your job to tell me what to do. You're only getting paid to follow me around where I wanna go," you retorted.

"I'm not taking you to the fucking mall!" he exclaimed, flinging his arms open, "Christ, you have a cell phone, a laptop, and an ipad. You could probably even use that watch you got on your wrist to shop."

"But it's not the same," you pouted.

Upon hearing that, it seemed like Jason's brain was actually on the verge of malfunctioning. In an attempt to help out, Dick walked the rest of the way in.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked, his voice much cooler than the tense argument that preceded it.

Immediately, both sets of eyes were on him. Jason's features melted into relief while yours swirled with curiosity.

"Is this your boss?" you asked. Your arms fell to smooth out the small shorts you had on before they rose again to make sure your hair was in place.

Meanwhile, a sneer spread on Jason's face again. "No. We're partners," he said.

"C'mon, Jason. I like to think of us as friends before coworkers," Dick teased and flashed a smile. That earned him one out of you in return. Right then, he knew this would be easy.

He headed over to the area where you stood, and acting charming as ever, stuck his hand out in search of yours.

You gladly returned the exchange, offering your palm up for shaking like a trained puppy.

"I'm Dick Grayson," he introduced. He wrapped his fingers around your hand with a firm grip.

Your smile widened before those soft lips parted to expel the syllables of your own name. You were being so much sweeter now that your sights had been set on someone besides Jason. Jason, who was currently watching with a mix of disbelief and irritation as your bratty temperament melted away before his eyes.

"Would you mind showing me where I could put my stuff?" Dick asked.

"Oh sure," you answered, "Follow me."

You waved him in your direction before prancing through an archway that led to a small area with a few doors and the stairs.

"I'll just show you where everything is while we're at it. That's the main bathroom. That's the office. And then up the stairs is where all the bedrooms are."

He followed behind you through the small room and then up the curved staircase. Jason trailed behind him, watching like this mask of pleasantness would fall away to reveal your true attitude any second.

Your hips swayed as you walked up each step. He felt like the way your ass jutted out a little as they did was intentional, but it didn't matter. Dick could be professional when he needed to be. He kept his eyes averted and stayed along your path.

After the stairs, you led them down a thin strip of lofted walkway that overlooked the living room and kitchen. With one hand on the silver railing, you explained each door that lined the wall as you went.

"That's the smaller living room. That's the second bathroom. That's the guest room Jason is staying in. And here is yours," you said as you got to the second to last door. You pushed it open and gestured proudly at the space.

"Looks nice. Thank you," he said before heading in. 

He tossed his bag on the bed and glanced around. It truly was nice. The bed looked like one out of a five star hotel. The end tables were polished and seemed as though they'd never seen a visitor throughout their time here. And then there were the floor-to-ceiling windows against the farthest wall. There was nothing to see outside right now. This floor rested so high up, clouds engulfed the glass panes.

"Mhm," you hummed before biting your lip, "And my room is the last door. There's always extra space in my bed if you don't like this one."

"But I thought you said I was a perv for suggesting that?" Jason interjected and shot you a glare from where he leaned against the door frame.

"Ummm, yeah, you are," you deadpanned, "I'm offering it to him, not the other way around like you did, obviously."

"It was a joke," Jason grumbled.

Before the tension could bubble over again, Dick laughed and looked over his shoulder at your teasing expression. "You know, I appreciate the offer, but this looks like more than enough for now."

"Ok, well let me know if you change your mind. I'll let you put your stuff away while I figure out what we can get for dinner," you told him before stepping back out of the room.

Dick waited a few moments to make sure you were really gone before turning to Jason and smirking. 

"That's who you've been having such a hard time with?" he mocked.

"I swear that's the best she's been all week. When it's just me, she doesn't quit. She goes on and on and on. Whining, complaining. It's borderline harassment to be honest," he responded and crossed his arms.

"Oh come on," he laughed, "She's as hard to deal with as a kitten."

"For you," he responded, "Once she gets bored of you, she'll act the same."

"Guess we're banking on the fact that I'm a lot more entertaining than you then, huh?" he teased.

"Shut up," Jason scoffed before turning and leaving the room too.

Over the next couple hours, Dick got settled in his room and then migrated back downstairs to feel out the situation here. Already he could guess why Jason didn't like you, but if things continued the way they were, he wouldn't mind slipping into his place. A full day of pay, and all he'd have to do is flirt back and forth with you every now and again.

In the living room, you laid back in the corner of your couch. Some tv show played as background noise while you scrolled through your phone. He made an effort to talk to you, to subtly observe more of your personality. Fortunately, you were pretty open to his attempts. Once he found a subject you liked, it was like flood gates opened. You couldn't have been more eager for someone to talk with.

Poor thing, he thought. You had everything you could want, but you were still so starved for attention.

As he listened to you chatter about your favorite tv show or something that happened last summer between you and your friend, he could see the quirks in you that drove Jason up the wall.

For one, you had a tendency to pout. He didn't think you were even aware of it most of the time. While he found it kind of cute, he knew that every time your lip started to puff out, it would send Jason's blood pressure through the roof.

You also were very touchy. Over the course of the short conversation, you drifted from your end of the couch to the cushion right next to Dick. Whenever you laughed your hand landed on his forearm. If he joked around in return, you'd lightly shove his bicep.

It was all pretty juvenile, methods of flirting used most often by kids with their first crushes, but he didn't mind. You were sweet and well-intentioned. Just so desperate to feel wanted.

And admittedly, he played into your desires a bit. He knew Jason would have lambasted him if he was down here right now instead of taking a break in his own room, but Dick didn't really care. Technically, he wasn't the one on call. Though even if he was, it's not like was overtly flirting with you. He was just having some fun and keeping you entertained. A few compliments and well-placed touches. That was it.

He straightened out his behavior a little by the time Jason did return downstairs to join you both for the dinner you'd had delivered.

You stood at the end of the table, graciously distributing the containers of food while they took up a seat on either side of you. Things went pretty smoothly overall. Once you each had a plate with your dishes of choice, you sat down and began to eat.

"You have that big kitchen," Jason commented after a few bites, looking over his shoulder at the room in question, "Do you ever actually cook anything?"

You narrowed your eyes for a moment but responded in the most calm tone of voice. "Yes, I do. But not for you."

Luckily, all that came from the tense exchange was Jason rolling his eyes. Neither of you seemed interested in launching into a full argument when you could focus on the food in front of you instead. A few minutes of quiet passed, but then conversation sprouted back up without an issue.

You asked them how they got into “bodyguarding,” making sure to add that modeling had to have been on the table for Dick. As with most interactions, he responded with a charming laugh. Though this time Jason interrupted to give you the spiel about their past - they worked together under the same mentor at a security company and decided to branch off and start their own as partners.

"Yeah, but why?" you questioned when he concluded his story, "Isn't it like... scary? You have to protect people from stalkers and stuff? That sounds so nerve wracking."

"It's not if you're good at your job like us," Jason dismissed.

Dick saw the frown appear on your face, and he swooped in with an answer of his own to make you feel less discarded. 

"It can be tense sometimes on rough cases, but it's really rewarding, you know? Getting to help people and protect them from the worst parts of life gives us a purpose," he explained.

"That makes sense," you nodded before laughing a little, "I could never do what you two do. I'm wayyyy too scared of being shot."

Dick chuckled, but Jason's look didn't soften at all.

"What is it you plan on doing with your life?" Jason asked.

His tone was short, prime for judgement, but you tried to let it roll off you. You kept your shoulders back as you answered the question, like it was a part of an interview you'd prepared for.

"I'm not totally sure what I'm gonna do with my whole life, but in the spring I'm gonna start working for my dad as an aide. Like when he takes office and everything."

"So what was the point of you going through college when you're guaranteed a job like that anyways?" he asked next.

Dick shot him a look across the table. It was one thing to respond to your whining, but picking a fight was another. He could see the question pricked at a real insecurity of yours. You bristled and tried not to let the weakness show itself.

"Because," you huffed, "I'm still supposed to know things and have skills of my own. And we're not like the Kennedys or something. I can't get by on my last name forever."

"Right..." he said and redirected his focus to shoveling some more food into his mouth.

Again, Dick took it upon himself to resuscitate the mood. He chatted with you some more about school and potential areas you were interested in for your future.

As things wrapped up and the three of you cleared the table, he finished by offering to take you on that shopping trip you'd been asking about earlier tomorrow. That seemed to be all it took to fully brighten up your mood. You eagerly accepted before heading off to your room for the night.

After you'd left, the room clouded with silence for a minute. The two of them migrated over to the living room. Both him and Jason took a moment to enjoy the peace that plumed up in your absence. It dissipated when Dick decided to speak again.

"You know, part of the reason she gets snippy with you is because you're not exactly pleasant to her," he started.

"No, she doesn't like me because I won't play into her flirty bullshit like you do," Jason replied and shrugged.

"It's more than that. You dismiss almost anything she says, and you try to provoke her into lashing out at you."

"Like she doesn't do the same to me? All that whiny, pouty shit she does for you, she tried for me at first, but I hurt her feelings because I didn't act like it was cute. It's pathetic"

"Alright, but as the professional, you're supposed to keep the appearance that she doesn't bother you. I'm just saying you could try playing it cool around her," Dick suggested.

Jason glared at him. "I wasn't hired to be nice to her."

"You're not getting paid to be an asshole either."

The harsh look deepened in the other man's green eyes. "What are we getting paid to do here exactly? She's not in any actual danger."

So that was his problem.

Dick sighed, but before he could provide some form of justification, Jason was pulling up your case files on his phone. He turned the screen to Dick.

"Look. Read it. Why'd we even accept this bullshit? He basically admits there's no real threat in the request," he said.

Dick took the small device and scanned over the document with his eyes. He didn't have to read it to know why they accepted it, of course. The money was great and the connections they could gain from it would be even better for the firm. He still skimmed the tiny words staring back at him though. The request for protection that asked you be assigned a full time guard in the potential event of political retaliation. Political retaliation that both sides of this arrangement knew was not coming. Your father had won his race by a comfortable margin. No one even attempted to contest the result. All of his positions were uncontroversial as well.

It was obvious to Dick that he and Jason were simple pawns in a power struggle here. They were the expendable pieces your father could tote around and punish you with for whatever reason. Maybe you'd been too outspoken about something. Maybe you had a tendency to get too wild when you went out. Maybe you'd just outsmarted the last move in this lifelong game of chess.

Whatever it had been, this was just the next subtle method of control. He'd seen it before in rich kids like you. Shitty as it was, it was part of this business.

Handing the phone back to the other man, he answered. "You know why we took it. And I know it's frustrating, but not every case is gonna be something out of an action movie. If he wants to pay for someone to ease his mind, then that's just how it is."

"He hired a babysitter for an adult," Jason spat with disdain, "That's all this is. The only thing I'm protecting her from is maxing out daddy's credit card or taking a laced bump at some shitty party."

"There are worse jobs in the world than watching over a pretty girl, Jason," Dick said and rubbed his eyes.

"Oh bullshit. This isn't just watching a pretty girl. This is listening to her run her fucking mouth. It's putting up with her bitching and moaning in my ear 24/7 about how she doesn't want me here."

"Look. It's not that hard to figure out," he interjected, "She was spoiled rotten growing up, but that also means she probably had a lot of people trying to control her life. She's getting her first real taste of freedom being out of college and living on her own, and then her dad takes it away by hiring us. Can you blame her for being a little pissy about it?"

"So what? Poor little rich girl. She has people who want to be involved with her life and make sure she has a future," he scoffed, "If she doesn't like that, she can take it out on her dad. Why do we have to deal with the fallout?"

"I know it's not what you want to be dealing with, but you're smart enough to know that things aren't that simple," he responded, "Everything in this place - the clothes she wears, the furniture we're sitting on, I'd bet even her phone she carries around - doesn't belong to her. None of it comes from her own money. Maybe her name's on the title of this place, but you know it's not really hers. She probably plays nice and puts up with things that don't really bug her to make sure he doesn't start taking it all away or offering to give it to her in the first place."

Jason still wouldn't drop his scowl. He understood Dick was right, but you were so goddamn irritating, he didn't want to admit you deserved even the smallest degree of grace.

"You don't have to act like a boyfriend or even her best friend," Dick offered as a compromise, "All I'm saying is that if you weren't so aggressive from the jump, she might feel more inclined to listen to you."

"She's a grown woman," Jason grumbled with hushed incredulity, "I shouldn't have to handle her like a little girl or a puppy or something."

"You're right. You shouldn't have to. But it's the way it is, so adapt or drive yourself crazy. It's your choice," he said.

"I guess," he huffed before slumping back in his seat a bit.

Dick relaxed back against the couch as well. Looking at Jason now, he couldn't help but think that part of the reason the two of you butted heads at every opportunity was because you both were in the running for the most headstrong person he'd ever met.

The next day, Dick made good on his promise to take you shopping. The two of you drove to an upscale mall and spent the next few hours roaming the wide corridors. He stayed close to your side, his muscular arms covered in the bands of your shopping bags as you led him from one place to the next. You talked his ear off, but he didn't mind. It was better than lounging around the penthouse and listening to you and Jason bicker. 

And in your defense, while you had him carrying all your stuff, you took plenty of chances to offer to buy him a few things. Anything his eyes lingered on for more than two seconds had you playfully waving around your card. Each time he'd decline. He had to keep some appearance of doing his job. Jason would never let him hear the end of it if he thought he indulged in this shopping spree too.

He was still somewhat playing his part though. His eyes scanned the exits and entries (when they weren't lingering on how your lip gloss shimmered on the soft curves of your mouth). He was focused on making sure no suspicious characters tried approaching you (when he wasn't ogling the way your t-shirt stretched across the swell of your chest). 

"So only one last place, right?" he checked while you typed away on your phone.

"Yup!" you chirped.

You trotted along a few more paces before coming to a stop in front of a store entryway framed by two dark, tile pillars. The words above glowed in a light, classic font. He eyed it and then shifted his gaze to the display windows. That was when he realized this was a store for lingerie.

He let out a laugh and shook his head. "Really?" he said, raising his brows at you.

"What?" you asked, "Don't tell me you're one of those guys that gets all weird about bras and panties. What do you think I'm wearing under this?"

"I don't really think it's my place to be imagining that," he chuckled.

"Well you don't gotta imagine right now. Just stay close to me while I pick some things out," you replied with your own little smile.

Unlike Jason, this wouldn't be a hill he died on. He followed you into the store and remained quiet within a few feet of you while you checked over the stands for items you liked. You seemed pretty picky when it came to this stuff. Your face contorted into contemplative expressions, weighing if you should go with the lacy black or the baby pink.

"So... do you actually have someone to wear these for or...?" he asked while trying to seem aloof.

"I wear them because I like them," you corrected while shooting him a playful glare, "But to answer your question, not yet."

"Ah, yet," he grinned.

"Mhm. It doesn't hurt to be prepared," you said.

He huffed out a small laugh and kept in line with your footsteps. After a while, you selected a few pairs and seemed almost ready to go. You weaved through the array of perfume stands and seasonal racks. On the way to the register though, your eyes caught on a pair of silk pajamas. They were dainty, thin, and striped. Just the kind of thing that looked as though it was sewn specifically for your closet.

"Oh my gosh. Dick, can you hold this?" you said. The question was pointless as you'd already shoved the basket of panties into his arms before the words finished leaving your lips.

You pranced to the display with the sleepwear and looked it over with adoring eyes. With a wave of your hand, you summoned a nearby attendant to ask for a set you could try on.

Moments later the worker guided the two of you towards the back of the store, showing you the changing area. It was nicer than most shops. A large mirror sat on the wall that was covered in floral paper. Next to it a small door concealed the private fitting section, and in the center was a couple seats.

The woman waved you in. She glanced over each of you with a tight-lipped smile before adding that "your boyfriend" was welcome to wait inside for you.

He opened his mouth to amend her definition of him, but before he got the chance, you chimed in with a cheerful "thank you!"

His eyes zipped from the exiting staff member to you. Upon looking in your eyes, he could see your amusement dancing there. You grabbed his free hand and led him to the plush couches. Then you took off with the pajamas in your hands into the private part of the room.

"So boyfriend, huh? Is that my title now?" he called to you through the open space above the door. While you changed, he set the endless supply of bags down on the loveseat across from the one he chose to sit down on.

"It could be," you replied, "Isn't it like safer if bad guys think a girl has a boyfriend?"

He'd dealt with clients flirting with him before, but never one as flagrant as you. Only one day with you, and he could tell you'd never experienced true shame in your two decades and some spare years of life.

"Yeah, I think so," he chuckled in return. Even though your confidence humored him, he couldn't deny the part of him that was flattered. The same part that got turned on.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and you strutted out. Your luscious legs stretched out from the tiny shorts that bedizened your hips. The button-up top hung off your shoulders and framed the curves of your waist. With a few steps, you stood in front of him, as if you were a model in a fashion show organized personally for him.

"Exactly. So, how do I look, darling?" you teased, doing a little spin for him.

He reached out and grabbed your hips. His fingers dug into your skin, feeling your flesh squish beneath the pads of his digits. Your eyes connected with his as he dragged them up from your waist to your face.

"Stunning, sweetheart," he played right along.

A small giggle trickled from your lips before you turned to the side to assess your appearance in the mirror. He kept his grip on you. Both his and your eyes glided over your frame, lingering on his hands clasped around the bottoms.

"I'll have to get them then," you decided after a few moments.

His pupils shifted up, sparkling under the fluorescents on the ceiling. "I think that's a great choice. Though when you wear them later, you may want to fix the pocket," he said.

Trailing his right hand up from its post on your hip, his fingers coasted over your breast to the shirt pocket that was flipped slightly inside out. He pushed the material back into place, delving two digits beneath the silk flap. The tips teased the curve of your breast. They dragged on the skin just above your nipple through the cloth.

Fortunately for you, he pulled them out seconds later, allowing you to step back and hide the way the small bud had begun to pebble for him. The smirk on his face hinted that he still knew though.

"Ok, well I'm gonna change back. Then we can check out and go home. Maybe we could get some food on the way back or something," you said, laying out the plan as a distraction for the blooming heat you felt in your abdomen.

"Yeah, sounds good," he responded and shrugged.

He watched as you capered back behind that door. You were a tease through and through, and that couldn't have pleased him more. It's what made this all so easy. You could flirt and bat your eyelashes and speak in that seductively innocuous tone, but when you caught scent of any real arousal, you pulled back quicker than a skittish dog. 

It could make it easier for him to remain professional. A way of keeping him from crossing the line that was supposed to divide him and all clients. But it also made you so much more tempting. An elusive prey animal just begging to be caught.

The rest of that day followed the plan you had set in the dressing room.

You checked out of that last store then had Dick carry your collection of purchases to the car. The two of you picked up some food on the way home. Despite your lavish taste in just about everything else, when it came to dinner, you were a pretty cheap date.

When you made it back to the penthouse, Dick shoulders the weight of everything you bought again. The two of you don't bother asking Jason for help, knowing it would only cause more drama. Instead, he let the thin handles on the bags of clothes and jewelry and trinkets dig into his skin and nearly cut off his circulation.

Besides that though, everything went fine. Jason gave you both a look of disdain when he saw the evidence of your shopping trip, but he didn't comment. 

Maybe he was taking Dick's advice.

That seemed to be the case even as you came trotting down the stairs not too long later. You'd changed into your new silk set. The fabric didn't leave anything to the imagination in terms of your figure and that was what it did cover. Most of your legs and a sliver of your chest remained exposed to any eyes that should wander by.

You had a little smile on your face as you entered the room. Of course, you knew how you looked. You were bratty, not stupid.

Upon spotting Jason in the kitchen, you headed in that direction. He'd been standing in the corner where the counters met, eating something for a few moments. The calmness of solitude that had previously filled the space dissolved when he caught sight of you.

As much as he couldn't stand you, Jason was still human. His brows raised and his eyes stuck to your scantily-clad body, raking over your curves and smooth skin. You watched with absolute joy as he finally acknowledged you in some way other than a nuisance.

It only took him a few seconds to catch himself, but the damage had been done. You bounded over to stand on the opposite side of the kitchen from him. He kept his eyes down now, intent on trying not to gauge if you were wearing a bra under that skimpy thing by how your breasts bounced.

"So Jason... What did you do while me and Dick were out?" you asked.

"Desperately awaited your return," he grumbled sarcastically.

The question obviously meant nothing to you. He could hear it in every syllable. It served as a placeholder. A plausible reason you could linger around him to flaunt yourself.

His response brought a laugh out of you in spite of the backhanded nature of the statement. "You could've come with us. It probably would've been more fun," you smiled.

"For you maybe."

"Well yeah for me," you said. You pushed off the island and stepped a few paces closer to him. "What do you think of my clothes? They're new. Dick said he liked them."

You did a small twirl like you had in the dressing room. An attempt to lure Jason's gaze back onto you. He didn't take the bait so easily though and locked his gaze on the food he'd been snacking on.

"If you got Dick's opinion, then why do you need mine?" he shot back.

"Cause I want it," you answered.

With a deep breath, he brought his eyes back to you. He could control himself, both his temper and other kinds of impulses. Plus, there was no way he was going to let you win. You had enough smugness in your voice as it was. No way was he gonna make the problem worse by letting you feel as though you had him intimidated.

"Looks the same as the ones you normally wear," he shrugged.

"Yeah, but I didn't ask that. I just wanna know if you like them."

"Why? Are you gonna throw a fit or something if I say no? Call daddy and have him hire someone with better taste to babysit you?" he mocked.

That put a scowl on your face, which made him smile. The two of you worked like a seesaw of emotions, one extreme on each side, animosity shifting so rapidly the bar could never rest at a balanced middle.

"No," you scoffed with a glare, "I was just trying to be nice to you-"

"Oh really? It felt more like you were fishing for compliments to me," he said, "You bought the clothes, so obviously you like them. Why do you need me validating your choice?"

God, this felt so much better than getting worked up over you. Watching your face morph into increasingly petulant expressions gave Jason more joy than imagining the day a month from now when this job would finally be done.

"Whatever," you huffed and rolled your eyes before retreating to the living room to be with Dick.

That was fine with him. He didn't cause a blow up or have to deal with Dick's lecture while simultaneously getting you out of his immediate vicinity. Though, that was probably for the best for reasons other than his anger too. 

He would never ever admit it out loud, especially not after the point he'd made about it last night, but seeing you in that tiny get up, all desperate for his approval... it had him craving some alone time to quell the heat he felt beginning to simmer within.

He cleaned up his plate that was now empty and then ran a hand through his hair. His eyes shut for a moment, and he let out a sigh. After a few moments, he decided he didn't need to shove down the feelings. He'd been pent up enough over the last week. Nonstop hours of you trying to get under his skin and make him snap. It left him yearning for some outlet, for some relief. Maybe that was why he was so pissed off all the time.

Right now, Dick was with you. The chances of you wandering up to his room to bother him were slim. He could sneak off for a while, spend some quality time with his right hand and chill the fuck out.

So that's what he did. He headed off upstairs and shut the door to his room.

Now you sat beside Dick on the couch as an old movie played on the tv. You were so close to him that your bare thighs rested against the grey cotton of his sweatpants.

It wasn't that late, but only a third of the way into the movie you felt yourself sinking into the cushions behind you, tiredness overtaking your body. Your eyes grew droopy and glazed as you tried watching the action playing out in front of you.

A few minutes later, you started to accept this might be a pointless effort. In your defense, shopping was a tiring activity! Malls were big and required lots of steps to get through. When you combined that with doing all the spending math in your head, talking to Dick, and trying things on, it made sense that you were beat.

You let your head slump over and hit his shoulder. Your temple thudded against the curve of it as a yawn made its way out of you. You brought your legs closer to your body and wrapped one of your hands around his bicep as well. If you were gonna go for an inch, why not take the whole mile?

His head swiveled in your direction when he felt the gentle contact. He didn't protest like you knew Jason would have though. Rather, he let you grip onto his muscular arm and rest against his broad frame before bringing his free hand over to smooth down the nape of your neck.

"Are we still playing boyfriend and girlfriend?" he asked.

Your eyes fluttered open as you tilted your face up to look at him. After a moment's thought, you bobbed your head in a lazy nod.

Upon seeing your confirmation, a lascivious smile spread across his lips. He leaned back further into the couch himself and stretched his legs out onto the extended part of the sectional. Once he was adjusted, he pulled his arm free of your grasp. You showed slight dismay at first, displeased with the loss of support and heat. Though it quickly evaporated as he draped it over your shoulders and pulled you into his chest.

"Well if I was your boyfriend," he said, drawing out the syllables pointedly, "I think we'd be sitting like this."

Even in your tired condition, you felt a bit flustered. You wouldn't show that though. It would take more to get you to willingly show how he affected you. You snuggle into his sculpted side and nestle your face against his chest. Below his skin, you hear the faint but steady beat of his heart.

"You're probably right," you mumbled against the fabric of his t-shirt, "It's comfier like this."

"Mhm. Safer too," he teased.

You nodded, not needing words this time around. One of your arms encircled his waist to keep you snug against him while you continued to watch the movie. 

It was honestly a miracle in your own eyes that you hadn't passed out yet in the few seconds you'd been sitting like this. He was so warm, and he smelled so good, like fresh laundry. And now his hand had started rubbing up and down your back. The steady rhythm of his palm and the perfect amount of pressure seemed like it would be lulling you into unconsciousness in minutes.

But then he spoke again.

"And if I was your boyfriend, we'd be doing a lot more than just watching this movie," he whispered.

The words hit your ears in soft puffs of air, sending chills down your spine. You bit your lip and willed your eyes to open wider before looking at him again.

"What else would we be doing?" you asked.

"What do you think? With you sitting here, all cute in your little outfit..." he began, lowering his mouth to your neck. A soft gasp left you as he began laying kisses up your throat to your ear. His teeth scraped over your earlobe before his tongue grazed the skin behind it. "I think I'd have a pretty hard time keeping my hands to myself," he finished lowly.

The skin of your shoulders prickled beneath the satiny material of your top and continued to do so down your arms and legs. You weren't completely inexperienced, but you'd never had such intense attention focused on you. You'd never felt like the center of someone's entire world like you did right now.

Your hand lands on his thigh, gripping the meat of it with your fingers. You turn your head into a brief kiss before pulling back an inch.

"If you were my boyfriend, you wouldn't have to keep your hands to yourself," you murmured.

And that was the last thing he needed to hear.

He dove in and kissed you like it was the millionth time. His lips moved against your own sensually before his tongue found its way into your mouth. A tender moan slipped out of you in response. He played the part of your boyfriend better than any actual candidate for the role before him.

Your palm migrated up from his thigh to his lap. With a few delicate swipes, you coaxed a bulge into rising against the fabric of his pants. Your hand then fled the area and trailed up his abs onto his chest. Every inch of him felt as though it had been crafted by divine beings. A gift for anyone who should have the pleasure of experiencing him.

He tugged you closer, guiding you so close that you were all but in his lap. His right hand groped the dough of your ass while his left crept onto your breast and gave it the squeeze he had wanted to earlier in the changing room.

You squeaked like a chew toy in response, which drew a laugh out of him. He teased the mound again by kneading it a few more times. His fingers dragged across the soft curves before zeroing in on your nipple, tweaking and pulling at the sensitive little nub. That brought some whines out of you.

"My little girlfriend's so responsive," he whispered. 

He knew he was acting like an idiot right now. He wasn't just crossing every client-contractor line in the book, he was practically leaping over them with joy. If Jason came down here and saw this opening to a porno playing out on the couch, he would never hear the end of it. But he just couldn't stop now. The way you arched into his touch was fucking intoxicating. You had him hooked, and he hadn't gotten farther than feeling up your tits.

And then you whimpered and nipped at his bottom lip. It wasn't like you could really defend yourself from his words. Every touch had you keening for more.

He hummed at the mini bite before pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. The arm wrapped around your back continued to support you while the set of fingers that had been playing with your chest fell towards the junction of your thighs. You seemed a little nervous at the start of the descent, but by the time his hand made it there, your legs spread open for him with no hesitation.

Both of your harsh breaths drowned out the sounds from the movie that had been long forgotten by now. And then your soft, sweet moans joined them.

He started out with a few loving caresses over your center. A few pets to get you warmed up. It was all you needed to let out those cute little noises. You rolled your hips at his hand, already signaling your need for more.

Without a second thought, he obliged you. His hand slid beneath your waistband and into your panties before his fingers slotted between your lips, finding your clit with expertise. They danced over your bundle of nerves and pressed down on it. More whines trickled from your mouth. He could only hope his lips on yours did a sufficient job of muffling them.

"That's it, sweetheart," he crooned, "You're so cute. Not worried about anything but feeling good."

You bucked your hips without a care in the world now, just like he said. They rocked up into the friction his digits were providing. Wet sloshing sounds emanated from where his hand moved beneath your shorts.

After a little while longer of just touching, he worked a finger inside of you. Then another. He pumped them in and out, relishing each precious mewl that erupted from you in turn. His digits curled. Each stroke inside you brushed a tender spot that made your thighs quiver and jerk.

"Fuck," you inhaled sharply before reaching forward to try palming at him, a haphazard attempt at returning the favor.

His free hand brushed yours away though. Those cerulean eyes glimmered with cockiness.

"I can take care of myself, baby. I'm being paid to service you, remember?" he purred.

Your eyes rolled back, and your head followed in that direction, hitting the backing of the couch. You weakly nodded before allowing the pleasurable sensations to cloud your head. He just kept thrusting his two fingers in and out while his palm ground against your clit.

You vaguely felt him start to grind his hips against the side of your leg. He used the pressure as stimulation, giving himself some muted relief while tending to you.

In the throes of bliss, you hadn't realized how close you were until the edge was right there. You whined and squirmed, trying to alert him that you were a few skillful pumps away from unraveling.

"Dick... gonna..." you whimpered.

"Yeah, I can tell. You're getting nice and tight," he murmured.

You nodded. Your lip started to jut out, those pouty habits making themselves known in the heat of the moment. He grinned before kissing it away.

"Let go, baby. Soak through your new shorts. Get 'em all messy for me," he cooed.

Your walls clenched around his fingers as your toes curled. It was impossible to resist the urge to release when he was guiding you to it like that. Your whole body tensed up and then relaxed over and over, the highs of pleasure washing over you in waves.

He watched every little move you make, drank it all up like a dehydrated man in the middle of the Sahara.

"You look so pretty while you cum," he praised. You heard him say the words; though, they sounded distant amidst the haze of bliss surrounding you.

When you finished, he could tell you were exhausted. Your eyelids drooped as if keeping them open was an impossible task. You laid there limp beside him, just about ready to melt into the couch.

He chuckled and slipped his hand from your shorts. Bringing his fingers to his lips, he sucked them clean and then ducked in for one last kiss. You squeaked in surprise but didn't pull away. He let you taste yourself for a moment before retreating.

Even though he hadn't cum himself, he figured it would be fine for tonight. There were four weeks left of this job after all. He'd have more time with you. Tonight he could deal with finishing himself off in his room after taking you to bed.

He shut the tv off and then scooped you up. Your body draped between his two arms. You didn't complain or protest; rather, just leaned your head into his shoulder and accepted the aid. He walked with you up the stairs, down the walkway to your bedroom. The last door on the path.

Nudging the door open with his foot, he crossed the threshold into your space. It appeared like the rest of the apartment, just more concentrated. A more pure embodiment of you. All the other parts of this place he'd seen had traces of your personality throughout, but each and every part of this room represented a piece of you.

He didn't spend any time snooping around or getting a better look. Like the perfect gentleman, he placed you in bed, draped a blanket over your body, and made sure you were situated. Then he retraced his steps back out into the hall. He headed down to the guest room and slipped inside, planning on taking care of himself and then passing out for the night.

The next morning, Dick woke to a thudding on the wall behind his headboard. Knock. Knock. Knock. The noises pounded against the barrier in an even-rhythm, every second or so. He wasn't sure how long they'd been going on by the time he reached full consciousness. They'd invaded the last part of his dream, so he assumed maybe a few minutes.

Even though the sounds should probably concern him, all he felt was annoyance. The wall behind his bed was the one connected to Jason's. He figured the noises were a result of him working out or moving some things around. Maybe you two had gotten into another argument and he was packing his things in anger.

Dick dragged himself out of bed and stretched. He'd slept longer than usual last night. A lazy smile rose to his face as details came flooding back to him. How you'd felt around his fingers and whined for him to keep pleasuring you.

Once he'd figured out what the noise was about, maybe he'd head over to your room, see if you were up yet. It'd been less than twelve hours, but he was already craving another taste of you.

He stepped out into the hallway, walking in the direction of the room the noise was coming from. As he got closer, he could hear some grunting too. It sounded pretty intense. Either Jason was working out really hard or you'd really pissed him off. Maybe a combination of both.

"Hey, Jason. Some of us are trying to sleep. You don't need to compete with the construction crews around the rest of the city with all this-" he started to call out, but the words died in his throat as soon as he saw the source of the banging.

He felt like a flash grenade had gone off in the room he was looking into. The source of the loud sounds was no longer a mystery. It was coming from Jason's headboard slamming into the wall. The headboard was doing that because the man in question was kneeling on the bed with you pinned down in front of him, fucking you like he was an animal in heat. Dick saw your body jerk in panic as soon as you heard the sound of his voice close in.

"Jesus, man!" Dick said and spun away from the explicit sight before him. His mind reeled and tried to grasp onto what he just witnessed.

As he was trying to come to terms with the fact that he just saw Jason balls deep inside you, he also realized that the lewd noises weren't stopping. He slowly turned back to get another glance - just a curious one, he told himself.

His eyes found the two of you again. Jason kneeled on the edge of the bed. One of his large hands gripped your hip while the other held your face down against the pillows. Now that Dick was really listening, he could hear your little muffled whines and squeaks.

Jason's body glowed, flush from arousal and shimmering with a sheen of sweat. Your limbs were folded up like pieces of a portable chair. Dick tried not to focus on the flicker of heat in his gut, and instead, think about how even with another set of eyes, neither of you had stopped going at it. In your defense, he didn't think the decision was up to you. Jason had manhandled you into a position that gave him all the leverage.

Finally after another second or two, the other man looked his way.

"You need something, Dick?" Jason grunted as though he'd been interrupted while reading a book rather than pounding you into the mattress.

He blinked at him. "What are you doing?"

"Do you really have to ask that? You're not a prude, and you're far from innocent," he mocked. His voice was breathless as though he found some deep satisfaction in this act. Dick believed that. He'd felt how soft and tight your cunt was last night, warm enough to melt even someone as tough as Jason down a bit.

"I'm not a prude, but you could at least shut the door," he responded. The absurdity of this situation then began to dawn on him. He stepped closer to the bed. "Really, Jason. What the fuck are you doing? She's a client," he finally said.

That brought a laugh out of the younger man. "Client, huh? That's not what I was hearing last night when you had her out on the couch."

Dick tensed in the face of the accusation. Shit. He'd thought the two of you had been quiet enough. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 

"That's different..." he defended weakly.

In reality, he of course knew that it wasn't. Him fooling around with you last night was, on a technical level, no different from what Jason was doing now. Either one if found out by your father, their employer, would get them fired and possibly slapped with a lawsuit.

But he did feel it was honestly different on some level. He'd just been playing with you. Going along with your flirting. Having some fun. Jason was fucking you. Every thrust was like an act of revenge for all the pouting and whining and huffy glares. He bullied his cock deep into your cunt with every swing of his hips. Your body jolted from his momentum, your fingers curled around the edges of the pillow. It was intense and raw.

"It is not," Jason denied, "Plus, I thought you'd be happy. We're not arguing anymore. You wanted me to act cool with her? Well she thinks this is pretty fuckin' cool. Don't you, princess?"

Before you could mumble something against the satiny linens below you, he looped an arm around your neck and pulled you up against him. You squealed at the sharp angle this new position put you at. Your eyes rolled back, and the only sounds that came from your lips immediately were hazy babbles.

You eventually collected yourself enough to nod. He laughed in your ear, slotting his face right next to yours. You could feel his breaths against your cheek, his sweat smearing on your skin.

"Use your words, sweetheart," he purred.

A shudder coursed its way through you. Your dazed eyes opened just enough to connect with Dick's bright blue ones. You didn't know what to say, so you let out the easiest thing you could think of.

"F-feels good..."

Dick nearly winced at the fucked-out sound of your voice. It was sultry and slurred. If you weren't so disgustingly rich, he was sure you'd make a killing doing this stuff on camera.

His eyes scraped over the shape Jason had you propped in now. Your body was arched like a bow, tits bouncing with each of his thrusts. He had your arms hooked over one of his behind your back while his other was wrapped around your throat. Your chin rested on the thick muscles there. Saliva spilled from your mouth while the beginnings of tears pricked at your eyes.

Everything about it was turning him on, but he tried to disguise that fact. He shifted where he stood in an attempt to readjust himself and not let his cock fill out. But then his eyes caught on the slight bulge in your stomach. The faint outline that protruded in rhythm with the man behind you thrusting.

He almost came on the spot. A groan worked its way up his throat, and he ran a hand over his face into his messy hair.

Jason huffed out a laugh at the noise. "You should've seen her. She came in here trying to pick a fight. Probably a warm up before she scampered off to your room to get you to relieve her frustration."

"Nuh uh," you whimpered pitifully.

In response, he released your arms and shoved you down onto the mattress again. You whined at the force he put into slamming your face against the blankets. His hips rutted into you even harder too, clearing any further words of denial from your mind.

"I wasn't asking," he chided. He gave your ass a firm slap before holding onto your hips. 

You mewled and clawed at the soft bedding.

"Maybe you are being honest though. Maybe you didn't plan on getting Dick to help you out. You probably knew he couldn't give it to you like you needed," he said. His green eyes flitted up to the man standing beside the bed, letting him know it was an open challenge.

Dick knew he shouldn't take the bait. This was weird enough as it was, standing there and watching the two of you fuck. But wouldn't it be weirder not getting involved? If he just left, he'd still be half-hard. He'd probably skulk off back to his room to jerk off, and that would be more pathetic than whatever he was about to agree to.

"Sure, Jason. If that's what you have to tell yourself," he mocked, "She knows how good I can make her feel. She just knows that you're easier."

Jason’s usual scowl appears on his face. "You cracked first. Gave into her and acted all sweet," he grumbled.

"Yeah, but look at you. She didn't have to work at all to get you to fuck her," he taunted, "I'm sure she'll be so tempted to not act out anymore when this is how you deal with it."

He closed the gap between himself and the bed, reaching for your face. He cupped your jaw and tilted your head upwards to face him. Swiping his thumb over your bottom lip, he smirked at the cute, pouty look on your face.

Jason growled and tugged you back. His hips clapped against your ass. You whined in a mixture of pleasure and pain, screwing your eyes shut. He leaned over your body like a dog guarding its favorite toy while continuing to pound into you.

"You know I'm right," Dick said, "You're so rough because you know you have to compensate."

Now Jason was actually getting a little pissy. He was the one who made this competitive, but it didn't take much to trigger his temper.

He let go of your body and pulled out. "You think you can do better? Go ahead then," he said, gesturing to your twitching form. You whined at the emptiness you now felt, but it did nothing to change his mind. He gave you a quick swat between your legs, ripping a cry from you. 

"No whining, little brat," he said, "Not when you're getting so much attention. More than you deserve."

Dick watched with interest before connecting his stare with the other man's.

"You just want me to what? Strip down and fuck her?" he asked.

"Why not? Don't act like you don't want to. I can see the tent in your pants," he responded.

Looking down, he knew he was right. The front of his sweats had puffed out with his desire. He didn't bother feeling embarrassed about it right now though. Jason was shameless as could be, so why should he try to keep up an appearance of modesty?

He shrugged and began peeling off his t-shirt before pushing his pants and boxers to the floor. Both pieces crumple up next to his feet as his cock comes into view. He gives it a few lazy strokes while reaching for you.

You glanced up at him, your pupils dilating upon seeing his length. It was slightly skinnier than Jason's but just as long. Your mouth watered for a taste. He chuckled, your admiration stroking his ego.

"Come here, baby," he cooed, much more gentle than Jason.

The sound of his voice revived you from your fucked out state, and you were happy to be guided into his arms. He sat against the headboard and took you onto his lap. Pressing a few kisses to your lips, he ran his fingers down your jawline.

He knew he wouldn't have to do anything to get you ready. You were already dripping onto his thighs from the mess Jason left between your legs. He shifted you around by your waist, laying you back against his chest. The both of you faced Jason who sat at the end of the bed.

"You think you can ride for me?" he murmured against the shell of your ear.

Your legs were wobbly and your mind still felt a little cloudy from the euphoria Jason pumped into your veins, but you nodded anyways, not wanting to disappoint Dick.

He rewarded you with a grin and pecked your temple. "Such a good girl. Gonna show him how sweet you can be when you're treated right, huh?"

Again, you nodded, but he also caught Jason rolling his eyes.

You rose onto your feet and positioned yourself above his lap. He helped you out a little, lining his shaft up at your entrance and sliding it through your slick.

Slowly, you began sinking down on him. He couldn't help the choked moan that slipped out of his mouth. "Fuck, you're tight," he rasped.

You didn't let up, lowering yourself all the way down in one go. Your ass rested against his pelvis, and he gave you a few moments to adjust. Hell, he needed them too to catch his breath. He couldn't cum too quickly right now. Not with Jason watching. He'd never hear the end of it.

But eventually you do start to bounce. His hands hold onto the little divots in your side to help you keep balance. Your warm slippery walls squeeze around him with each of your movements.

More whiny sounds seep from your lips. They were higher-pitched than last night. Less drawn out and delirious. Each time you took him all the way, your hips jerked. He reached around, swirling his fingers over your clit.

"So sensitive," he teased.

You whimpered and continued to bounce yourself in haphazard bursts. Your pussy gushed for him, your juices dripping down to his balls. By the time you finished, there would be a wet patch for sure.

He tilted his head back against the headboard, just letting himself feel for a moment. Meanwhile, your eyes meet Jason's. He had a fist wrapped around his cock. He kept his strokes slow, as if trying to hide the fact that he was doing it at all.

"Feeling good?" he asked, but you know it was intended to mock you, "You like sweet and gentle? Better than how I do it?"

Before you could answer, Dick slammed you down on his cock. Your eyes fluttered, and you loosened up, allowing him to take over in lifting you up and down on his shaft.

"If you're asking, that means you know you're losing," Dick chimed in a sing-song voice.

That just spiked Jason’s blood pressure. He stood up. "My turn again," he demanded.

Dick openly laughed in his face while continuing to pump you like a fleshlight. "No," he said.

"Yeah. You've had your turn, now it's mine. Give her back," he said. He was getting more agitated because he realized how petulant he sounded.

It only brought more laughter from Dick. "Give her back? What is she? Your favorite doll or something?" he taunted, "It doesn't really seem like she wants to go back to you. I think I'll keep her here till she finishes."

"You're the one who interrupted."

"You're the one who practically invited me to."

"I don't care. You had enough time, now it's my turn to show you. I'll get her at fucking gunpoint if I have to."

Both of them knew he was just blowing off steam. When Jason got mad, he would say things like that without thinking twice. But you'd never heard his voice so gruff, dripping with the potential for violence. When he got pissed at you, he was annoyed and agitated. Frustrated more than anything else. This was something else, and it turned you on.

You clenched around Dick's cock and let out a shaky whine. They simultaneously dropped their bickering and looked at you. Dick slowed the pace as he eyed you, but Jason's lips curved upward. 

"Oh you like that idea?" he chuckled, "Thought you were afraid of guns, princess?"

"I- I am," you said, trying to backtrack.

His dark locks swayed from side to side as he shook his head. The moment he headed towards the nightstand Dick knew what he was doing.

"Jason-" he started, but his gun was already in his hand. The dark pistol pointed towards you.

"Come here," he said.

Your eyes widened, thighs quivering as Dick stopped moving you and let you slide off of him. He watched as his cock slid out of you, still coated in your arousal. You crawled forward towards the man pointing the gun at you.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair when you were close enough and dragged you the rest of the way. His cock kicked at the yelp you let out.

"That's a good girl. You know to come when you're called," he praised.

You whimpered in response, looking up at him with wide, puppy-eyes. He didn't soften in the slightest though. Scooping you from behind, he dumped you onto your back.

"Spread your legs for me nice and wide," he directed. You clasped your own legs behind the knee and made sure there was ample room for him to get at your center.

The gun remained aimed at you. It kept your heart pumping so hard you could hear it in your ears. A sick combination of fear and lust ran through your limbs. Jason didn't mind the shakiness though. With his free hand, he guided his thick cock back to your entrance and slid right in.

"Fuck, you take it so well for such a prissy little thing," he growled.

He didn't give you the adjustment period like Dick had. Instead, he pushed all the way in and then dragged his hips back before slamming in again. You mewled at the stretch. The sweet burn of him splitting your cunt open.

"Jason..." Dick said again in the tone of a parent about to count to three.

Jason didn't drop it though. He leaned forward, pressing the cool metal barrel against your shoulder and folding you in half under his bulky frame. He was so deep inside you that you couldn't really say he was thrusting anymore. Just grinding his hips. Deep, even rolls. Those tears that had been teasing you before leaked out freely now. You hiccuped out a broken sob as he continued fucking you within an inch of your life.

"She's fine," he grunted, trying to suppress a moan of his own, "Fuck... you know I'm careful."

It was true. Dick didn't actually believe Jason would shoot you, but still, this felt like the exact opposite of what they were supposed to be doing. This was probably the most danger you'd been in over the course of your entire life. It was definitely the first time you'd had a gun aimed at you.

Heat sweltered between you and Jason, making it almost impossible to breathe. Your head lolled back in search of some relief. Some semblance of breathing room. But he was just all around you. Every part of your body felt under his control.

Your vision went spotty for a moment, but when you came back, you saw Dick's face above yours. Jason had leaned back a bit, allowing you to cool down. His hips maintained a steady rhythm though. 

The older man stared down at you, stroking your cheek gently. He swiped your tears away with your thumb. His palms kept your head cradled as if you were the most precious, fragile thing in the world. It just made you cry more.

"You're so pretty crying like that," he crooned. His knuckles swept over your heated skin. "Such a sweet girl. Not used to getting it so rough."

"She'll be used to it by the time the month is over," Jason said. He put the gun aside now, using both hands to hold onto you.

Dick rolled his eyes and continued showering you with soft words and tender touches. It was like each half of your body was in a separate world.

You could tell Jason was close by the way his thrusts were becoming more sporadic. His breaths puffed out in harsh pants while his fingers gripped you tight enough to bruise. Luckily, you were getting there too.

The only one left behind was Dick, but he wasn't worried. He had the patience for you.

Jason thumbed your clit, dragging you the rest of the way to the finish line. You came with a scream so loud that both of them were thankful the penthouse suite meant no neighbors to hear you. Your body quivered and convulsed. You sobbed out cries for both of them. Your hands flew to Dick's wrist to hold onto something.

Jason kept pumping into you for a few moments more, but you were tight as a vise. He knew he was about to cum, and he knew he should pull out. But as he was going to, you locked your shaky legs around him and shook your head.

"I'm-" you tried before cutting yourself off with a whimper, "I'm on the pill."

In that moment, it was like he heard an angel speak to him. He slammed into you as hard as he could and collapsed onto your body. His larger chest crushed you against the bed, his face nuzzling into your neck as he spilled himself inside you. You swore you heard him whine, but it was hard to tell with everything going on.

He fucked his cum into you, not pulling out until he was completely satisfied. Once he was and that dreamy bliss of post-release had settled over him, he reluctantly rolled off and landed next to you flat on his back. His chest rose and fell with deep, slow breaths.

But you weren't done yet. Dick slid around to where he had been and pushed his cock into your hole that was still leaking Jason's cum.

"The best goes on last," he teased with a lazy smirk.

He sighed, his long lashes dusting his cheeks at the sensation. His grip was much softer. He took his thrusts slower too, knowing your poor pussy was aching from how rough Jason got.

You whimpered and twitched at the slight overstimulation.

"Shhh, doing good for me," he cooed, "Pussy's so warm and soft. She wants me. I’ll make her feel all better."

The sounds coming from where your bodies connected were absolutely obscene. And even though Dick wasn't going as fast, he was getting just as deep. His tip brushed your sweet spot over and over. Your toes curled and your back arched. This time it was Jason you held onto. You gripped his hand tight as you could, and he let you. He didn't baby you like Dick did, but he allowed you the comfort of his large, warm palm around yours.

You were totally gone by the time Dick was ready to let go. He angled his hips to guide you into another release. Your walls fluttered around his length. His head tilted back and he let out a groan, feeling his own peak bubble up inside him.

He came inside too, pumping your cunt full of another load. Like Jason, he fucked it all in. He stayed snug in the tight grip of your pussy for a moment before pulling out. Sticky, white cum gushed out, dripping down onto the bed.

Dick landed on the opposite side of you from Jason. He leaned in and planted a soft kiss on your cheek.

The three of you laid in silence for a little while. For you, it was out of pure exhaustion. You wondered if it was that for them too, or if they were processing what they'd done. The lines they'd crossed and the secret they'd now have to keep.

But you didn't get the chance to dwell on it for too long because soon enough, Dick guided you off the bed.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he said.

With a hand on the small of your back, he led you to your bedroom and into the en-suite bathroom. You assumed Jason stayed behind to take care of the bedding, but you didn't ask.

Dick drew you a bath and helped you in. He did like he said he would, cleaned you up. Every move he made he did so with all the care in the world. Gentle hands wiping the dried drool and tear streaks from your face.

When you were done, he helped you out and dried you off. He let you go about the other parts of putting yourself back together on your own, taking a few moments to tend to himself. 

You didn't know how the rest of the day would look. If things would be awkward now or if they just wouldn't acknowledge what happened. You waited on your bed for Dick, dressed in a pair of fresh clothes and your skin smooth after being lathered in lotion.

He came in after you a few minutes later. Immediately, your fears of things being weird were extinguished by the smile he gave you. The same charming one he'd had since a few days ago. He climbed on the bed with you and laid back against your pillows. You followed in suit, leaning your head against his shoulder.

You were content like this, just relaxing with him. In the back of his mind, he knew this was the quietest you'd been since he arrived.

Moments later the door opened and Jason came in. He crossed the room without a word. You opened your mouth to ask what he was doing, but he basically answered the question when he reached the other side of your bed.

He laid down next to you like Dick had on your other side. You eyed him suspiciously. Never would you have imagined he'd willingly spend time with you. He caught the look though and gave it his usual frown.

"What?" he scoffed, "I was the one actually hired to watch you. I gotta make sure you're not getting into trouble."

Unlike before, his speaking didn't provoke you to whine or insult. Instead, you smiled and wrapped your arm around his bicep.

"It's ok. I won't make you admit that you wanna cuddle too," you grinned.

He shook his head in denial. "I'm just doing my job," he asserted, "Plus, I think I won the contest, so it only makes sense that I'm the one who stays with you."

"Hey, we never decided on a winner," Dick cut in.

"I mean, we didn't have to because it was pretty obvious."

"Well we got a whole month, so if you're so confident, we can always have a rematch later," Dick challenged.

"Um, you guys didn't even ask for my vote on who I think won," you interrupted with a pout.

They both turn their eyes to you. For once, Jason didn’t look at you with total disdain. In this moment, you could see some fondness under the top coat of annoyance.

"There's that attitude. I guess it was naive of me to hope we fucked it out of you," he said.

Dick chuckled at that. "It'll take a couple more rounds before that's even a real possibility."

You glared at the both of them, but like Jason, your eyes didn't hold real anger or frustration now. Only the hope that they'd try to put you back in line again.

[sparrows4bats]

Damian definitely buys an isolated farm, not because he wants to be a farmer but because of the ever increasing number of animals he ends up adopting. They also get bigger over time.

Damian has Cows, sheep, horses, goats, and Jerry the Turkey.

Jon buys him chickens for eggs because, at this point, he may as well contribute to the problem if he can't solve it.

He starts a trend.

Talia gifts Damian Tigers and Panthers that can no longer be released to the wild.

Dick rescues three elephants from an animal trafficking ring and, after realising how damaged their feet are, brings them to the farm where they will be safe. They remind him so much of his childhood.

Tim arrives with a phoenix, and he does not explain where he got it but does start designing a new costume.

Jason visits with a bear one day, he names it Darcy.

Cass loves the deer herd that have taken up residence in the forest.

Stephanie finds three peacocks in a Gotham warehouse so she knows exactly where to bring them.

Signal busts a man using large snakes to smuggle drugs, so they have a reptile house now.

The farm has its own bat cave, complete with hundreds of bats.

There's an armada of cats, birds, and dogs.

Batman starts losing his mind after the rabbits.

Damian collects so many mythical creatures that Constantine starts to drop off any he finds that need a good home. (He is an enabler, and Bruce hates him after that thing with the unicorn. Bruce is more upset with himself because he let Damian keep it)

Goliath and Wiggles keep them in line even if that involves adventures to Hell and Dream.

Jon brings over extraterrestrial animals every once in a while as well. Clark helps, but no one can tell Bruce.

Aquaman installs an insane fish pond that hold very happy fish after Batman annoys him.

Diana somehow gave Damian a cerberus puppy for his birthday. (Bruce tries so hard to stop this but fails spectacularly.)

Damian keeps large portions of the land wild to encourage biodiversity and insect populations. He holds firefly parties in the summer with the Teen Titans.

Swamp thing and Poison Ivy love the place. Harley gives Damian the cheetah cub (it only has three legs!) she found after beating up a sleazy club owner.

The Wayne Farm is out of control and every superheroes' favourite place. They start to try to convince Batman to hold meetings there instead of the Watchtower.

Bruce is so glad to see his children so happy, but for the love of God, put the dinosaur back where you found it! Please! (He is a weak man in the face of puppy dog eyes)

It only gets worse when Damian gets older, and it is very clear that his adoption problem extends to children.

[dc-posting]

Young Tim who makes kandi/friendship bracelets for Robin and Batman (mostly Robin, he just doesn’t want Batman to feel left out) and leaves them in the Bats’ most common brooding/surveillance spots.

He does this for years, perfecting his craft. He makes bracelets with multiple chains, his beads get higher quality, his finishings improve (he learns that gluing the knot and trimming down the string is better than just tying it off and cutting it down.) and he loves to make bracelets for the two Robins, and for Nightwing, when Robin I eventually becomes his own hero.

When Jason dies, Tim sneaks over to leave kandi at his grave, nothing that would incriminate him as Robin, just things Tim thinks he would like. Kandi strung in his favourite colours, a cuff with a quote from his favourite book, intricate designs woven with pieces of Tim’s heart and his sorrow for his favourite Robin, his hero.

They’re cleared away often, but Tim replaces them with new kandi diligently.

He also turns Robin II’s favourite gargoyle into a mini shrine, bracelets and kandi chains decorating the stone high above Gotham’s streets, dedicated to his hero.

When Jason arrives to the tower, ready to break his replacement’s wings, he instead finds a sixteen year old boy sitting cross legged on the floor, surrounded by boxes of beads. He has a tray in front of him, a design laid out that he is carefully transferring one by one onto the elastic string.

“Stupid Bruce clearing the stupid grave.” He mutters angrily, tying off the bracelet. “Have to replace these every other week.” He adds a dollop of glue, ties the string again, adds another bit of glue, and then sets the piece down to dry. Jason watches as he carefully manoeuvres the glued knot to rest in one of the beads, ensuring that’s its secured to itself as well as to the bead.

He would be impressed by the attention to detail if he wasn’t currently processing that Tim fucking Drake is Robin’s stalker.

He thinks back to his room at the manor, at least fifty bracelets for Robin II found on rooftops (and once, on the passenger seat of the Batmobile. God, the look on Bruce’s face.) stored securely in a plastic box at the very back of his closet. His most prized possessions. He knows Dick has one just like it.

Whatever plans for revenge being enacted through the vessel of his replacement are immediately scrapped.

“Those for me?” He asks, leaning against a wall and crossing his arms.

Tim whips around, beads clattering off the bracelet he was carefully stringing together.

“Not unless you’re my neighbour’s dead son.” He shoots back, tone aiming for joking, scrambling for his staff. Play cool, play cool.

Jason barely thinks for a moment before he removes his helmet. He peels off the domino mask, wincing as it pulls slightly.

“Uh…” Tim stalls, staff at the ready.

“You left me bracelets, all around Gotham. For years. For Nightwing too, and the Bat.” Jason tilts his head. “You said those were for your dead neighbour. You make them for me out of the mask too?” Tim nods wordlessly, stepping aside so that Jason can rifle through the pile of bracelets waiting for their glue to fully dry.

He finally finds his words as Jason starts trying on various pieces.

“I started leaving them after you- after everything. At your… grave. B and A clear them away every few weeks, I don’t know if they keep them, but I replace them.” He sounds unsure, Jason thinks that’s reasonable.

“You don’t even know me.” He says, he knows why someone would leave gifts for Robin, but Jason Todd? No way.

“You were my hero. You are my hero.” Tim responds, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Guess we gotta break into the manor and see where he’s hiding those bracelets then, eh?” Jason pushes through the warm feeling in his chest. He doesn’t have time to analyse that now.

“Only if you agree to let me run tests in the cave.” Tim still holds his staff in an iron grip.

Jason would expect nothing less from his Robin.

It’s only a small price to pay for those kandi after all.

[goddamnitmahtin]

Danny’s Designer Friend

Okay so hear me out. Danny jumps universes a lot right? It’s a part of running errands for Clockwork. He may be the Ghost king but since he was Clockwork’s mentee at the same time, he had to run time errands sometimes. It took him to some really interesting places.

Some places had magic, some didn’t. Some had heroes that used their own devices and some had heroes that used magical artifacts to manifest abilities. Some didn’t have heroes at all. Some universes had lots of technology and some were working to catch up. And obviously, Danny had his favorites. And he had his favorite people from each.

So…. Danny had an idea.

…

Bruce looked around suspiciously, alert to any dangers that may be in the area. He and all of his children were on duty when all of a sudden he ended up in a modern mansion of sorts with an indoor waterfall.

“What in the world-?” He heard Tim say as Red Robin appeared as well.

“Oi-!” from a surprised Spoiler as she appeared.

Sword slashing noises as Robin appeared, apparently trying to slice the air, “What is this trickery!”

Next Duke in his pajamas and Nightwing appeared, landing on top of one another. “Get your sweaty ass off me,” Bruce heard his son say as he pushed his older brother off of him.

“GUYS!” Oracle called as she fell. She had teleported in but her chair didn’t seem to have come with her. Red Robin and Spoiler caught her just in time.

Orphan appeared silently.

Then Oracle’s wheelchair popped in, dropping onto Signal just as he had stood up. “Oh come on!” he exclaimed as a post it note apology appeared on his forehead. Presumably for forgetting the chair.

Lastly, Red Hood appeared, guns out and ready to fire. That is, if only he had anything to fire at. He quickly put them away once he realized it was only the bats and birds. The others wouldn’t have noticed it but behind his helmet, Jason was wide eyed, noticing the post it note. He only knew of two entities that used that form of communication and one meant something significantly better than the other.

After a few moments of Red Robin and Spoiler helping Oracle into her chair, footsteps could be heard approaching. Everyone tensed, ready for a fight. Except Red Hood who could feel his core tugging at him familiarly.

Two people approached. First person they were able to see was Danny. He had decided to show up in his kingly glory, his ceremonial cloak billowing behind him. As he got closer, they could see a very short woman with black hair and round glasses smoking a cigarette walking with him. Despite Danny being a king, she was the one in charge.

The woman walked up to the group with a judgmental look, “Every one of you. When I point, you tell me your title and occupation. Go.”

Nobody said anything.

“You guys better do what she says,” said Danny chuckling. Their faces so far were hilarious.

Slowly, the family obliged, starting with Red Hood.

“I go by Red Hood. I’m a crime lord. And a vigilante I guess,” Jason said. He knew enough to know they weren’t in any danger.

The others followed along until finally it got to Bruce, “I’m Batman. Vigilante.”

The short woman scoffed and immediately started pointing out the flaws in everyone’s outfits, “You all look ridiculous! What is that, bunny ears? And you! Red, green and yellow are far too many colors! You look like a traffic light! You! Those shoes are impractical and appalling! Do any of you know what style is?!”

She walked up to Duke, “I have seen photos of your suit and it is disgusting! Too bright!”

She gestured wildly to the group, “And NO CAPES!”

The woman then went up to Red Hood, “You are perfect darling, practical and filled with personality. You are my favorite.”

Danny chuckled, “He’s my favorite too.” The king shot a knowing smirk to Jason who under his helmet blushed from the comment.

“I am designing you all new suits right away!” the woman exclaimed with a wild look in her eye.

Danny couldn’t help but start laughing at this point. The looks on everyone’s faces were pure gold. This was the best idea he had literally ever had.

“I can’t wait to see it Edna. I can pay for it too,” the king said, sneaking a glance at Red Hood, “Anything for future in-laws.”

[midday-clouds]

Yandere Batfamily x Neglected & "Immortal" Reader 》 III

Part I Part II Part IV Part V

Took me so long to figure out how the rest of the story could go XP Also, I've seen how some of y'all want the reader to become a vigilante/villain :) It is definitely possible but not with the current story idea I have in mind. Maybe one day, I'll make a side story where the reader becomes a vigilante/villain

CW: Violence (Bar Fight), Stalking, Blood, "Death"

It has been a few weeks since you moved into Bludhaven and Nightwing being your nighttime companion

He always comes over to your apartment with a couple of injuries and asks to stay a bit

With Nightwing’s instructions, you learn to bandage injuries to help the hero

Maybe it’s because your mental wounds from your neglectful family are still fresh, but Nightwing quickly started to grow on you.

It just feels nice to have a friend while adjusting to your new life.

It also could be because he actually came to the rescue when you were attacked

This does make you wonder why Batman didn’t save you in Gotham but who knows what that big guy does.

Another thing you wonder about sometimes is who Nightwing is.

You were never really curious about the vigilantes in Gotham, even though four well-known vigilantes resided there.

Ever since you met Nightwing, you tried doing some research on him but you immediately stopped when you saw the words “Richard Grayson” in an article.

While the batfamily would be more than happy to stay in Bluvenon so they can meet you, Gotham needed them. (Also they may overwhelm you)

Because of this, the family (except Dick and Jason) return home where more plans are made.

Jason decided that he will be the next person you meet and he won’t take no for an answer.

There is one problem though, you’ve seen Jason with his Red Hood attire

You may not have connected the dots at the time but you definitely will when you see him again.

After debating with Dick, Jason finally agrees to primarily watch you from a distance

In an attempt to meet more people, you decided to participate in some summer events that your college was hosting

You make a couple of friends and go out together

College classes are just around the corner and your friends suggested going out to a bar

This is a special moment so you decide to go with them

You all made plans on the designated driver and kept an eye out for your drinks

When you go to the bar, it's almost sunset.

This is your first time drinking but you trust your friends to keep you safe. (You ended up hating the taste)

Unknown to you, Jason is watching you from outside of the bar

If it was Dick’s turn to watch over you, he’d drag you back to your apartment.

Jason just allows you to have your fun time with friends, getting lost in how happy and innocent you seem.

This all crashes down when a fight suddenly happens right next to you

You and your friends try to get away from the scene but you're suddenly knocked to the ground

A drunk person slams a glass of alcohol next to you, probably mistaking you for someone else, which gives you a ton of small cuts.

Jason quickly puts on his mask and breaks into the bar. He beats up any drunk person who tries to stop him from reaching you.

Your sober friend tries to pull you away from the fight but is worried about all of your cuts

Red Hood suddenly appears to drag you and your friend away from the fight.

The fight gets worse and some random person seems to have called the ambulance

When the ambulance arrives, your sober friend hands you over to them and Red Hood disappears

You’re given a few bandages before the medic has to focus on another injured individual

In your dizzy state, you manage to slip away to stop the ringing in your ears

Something in you also told you it wasn’t safe to go to the hospital

Walking through an alley, your bandages seem to loosen and you eventually collapse on the ground from blood loss

Red Hood steps away for a second and you suddenly disappear.

He didn't want to be seen by the ambulance so he got onto a nearby rooftop to update Nightwing on the situation.

At least you didn't get far but the blood pooling under you slowly grows. This would be the second time you died

Nightwing appears and finds you wrapped up in a jacket while Red Hood picks you up off the ground.

One of the walls of the alley seems to have gotten a hole from Red Hood punching it out of frustration

Getting closer, Nightwing can see that you were given fresh bandages before being wrapped up in Red Hood’s jacket.

Also, you’re still breathing!

Seeing that you may still be alive, you’re taken to Nightwing’s apartment

Red Hood places you on the bed while Nightwing contacts Batman.

After one final look over and a blanket thrown over your body, Red Hood joins Nightwing in the living room

You slowly wake up in an unknown room and immediately sit up

The first thing you notice is how dark the room is

Squinting a bit, you find a lamp on the nightstand and turn it on

You find yourself in a bedroom with a blue and black color palette

There’s a desk in front of the bed with two computer monitors

You turn on the computer to see the date and immediately recognize a name

Richard Grayson

The name is enough to fill you with annoyance but you try to stay focused

How did you get here? Are you back in Gotham? Back at the manor?

You go to the bedroom door to find a living room instead of a hallway

Maybe you were still in Bludhaven?

This room definitely looks like it belongs to Dick

You never found his room in the manor but you did learn about some of his interests when you tried to befriend him (Alfred had to tell you all this)

As you finish snooping around the bedroom, a sound from the other room makes you freeze up

You quickly turn the light off, lay back on the bed, close your eyes and pretend to be sleeping

There are some voices in the living room but it's hard to hear past the sound of your racing heartbeat

Your heart almost stops when you hear the bedroom door open and the voices get louder.

At least you can actually understand what they’re saying now

They mention Batman, Robin, Demon Spawn, and other things you don't understand.

Maybe this was Dick and his friend talking about vigilantes? Though…one of them sounds familiar….

Your train of thought is cut off by someone putting their wait on the bed and running their hand through your hair

To distract yourself, you try to recognize the voice the best you can. Could it be Nightwing? Does Dick know him?

A kiss is placed on your forehead before the two people leave the bedroom.

After waiting a couple of moments, you open your eyes and confirm that you’re alone.

You slowly slip out of bed to try to listen to hear more of their conversation.

It seems that they called someone because there are new voices but it isn't that clear

The conversation begins to scare you as they talk about you.

Calling you their sibling/daughter and status on how your injuries were healing

Based on what is being said, you figure out that five vigilantes know quite a bit about you…

Deciding that you’ve had enough, you find a way to sneak out of the apartment

Looking out the window, it looks like you're a few floors high.

You carefully open the window as quietly as you can and peek outside to find a fire escape just one window away

You must be lucky because you reach the stairs safely and immediately start going down the stairs

The sun is about to rise and you realize that you don't know where you are

You run around for an unknown amount of time before finding a bus stop

There isn't any money on you so you just pick up a map for the bus route

Looking over the map, you’re able to find a familiar street before finally making it home

It took you a long time to get a new key because you basically had nothing on you but eventually, you were able to finally collapse on your bed

You fall asleep immediately

By the time you wake up, it is night again

Getting up, you start making yourself some food while some research on vigilantes

Focused on finding answers, you’re able to connect the dots on who the vigilantes are based on your information from when you lived in the manor

At some point, a knock is heard from your window

On instinct, you walk over to your window and open your curtains

Seeing Nightwing and his dumb smile fills you with rage. Which you are more than happy to let him know

You close your curtain and can faintly hear Nightwing trying to talk to you from the other side of the window

Well, it seems that you now know their identity

Jason saw and heard you run off. He and Dick were about to follow but Bruce told them to not follow you

The next night, Jason watch you reject Dick as he tried to pretend last night didn’t even happen

But it seems you weren’t having any of it

Dick returns to Jason, dejected

A new plan would have to be made, and Tim knows exactly how to get back on track

[suigenerisisadiva]

If the Batfam had a Reality Show: Feat. Batsis!Reader <3

Pairing: Batfam/Batboys x Batsis!reader

Content: Swearing, use of Y/N, A/N: Isn't necessarily a part 2 to my previous posts...I just felt like writing this lmao, if my other posts get a lot of likes I'll post part 2's, but here are the links to my previous ones: - Who in the house would you not let your child date? - Crazy Shit Y/N Wayne has done: A list Also guys: I LOVE BANANA MILK

🖤 THE WAYNE FAMILY: TRAUMA, TRUST FUNDS & TIARAS 🖤 A luxury fuelled, espresso-stained reality series brought you by W! Entertainment (Do ya'll get it?)

[OPENING SCENE: Theme Song Over Slow-Mo Glam Shots]

Flashing paparazzi. Designer heels on marble floors. One (1) feral sibling wrestling someone off-camera. Cut to black SUVS, Steph falls into pool. Tim is asleep in the confessional booth. The screen reads:

They have money. They have issues. And now they have a camera crew.

NARRATOR (deep, petty voice):

“Gotham’s richest family is stepping into the spotlight — and out of therapy.” “With enough money to buy a continent and enough drama to fill Arkham, the Waynes are ready to serve trauma, trust funds… and tiaras.” “This… is their world.” [cue sparkly logo sequence: “THE WAYNE FAMILY: TRAUMA, TRUST FUNDS & TIARAS”]

SCENE - WAYNE MANOR KITCHEN (Camera pans to obnoxiously expensive kitchen, wherein Stephanie is trying to open a sauce bottle, Tim is aggressively typin away at his laptop, and Jason walks in.) Jason: The hell are you doing Steph? Steph: *Tryna pry open a sauce jar* Watch me cook Jason Jason: *Unimpressed* Tim: Why is anybody speaking it's like 2PM [Y/N]: *With the rage of a small chihuahua* WHO THE HELL DRANK MY BANANA MILK, IT WAS LABELLED WITH MY NAME AND A SKULL. Damian: *Pouring milk into Titus' bowl*

CONFESSIONAL CAM: [Y/N] (Your sat on a luxury chair, somewhere in the Manor Library, hoodie on, legs criss crossed, drinking Banana milk)

Producers: Y/N, how is it like living with your family?

You: Like living in a luxury zoo to be honest, people think we're elegant rich., but we're tacky rich, we have a private jet and a yacht, and Dad has like 7 McLarens but we have zero communication skills, I actually watched Tim cry because he thought Titus' ground beef kibble were coffee grounds.

CONFESSIONAL CAM: TIM

Tim: Okay, lowkey it wasn't even that bad-

CONFESSIONAL CAM: DICK (Dick is shirtless, exercising in the gym room)

Producers: So Richard, what's on the family agenda this weekend? Dick: Hopefully a family dinner I can plan and manage, because literally if I don't schedule this or brunch every week, we all forget we're related. And Stephanie doesn't want BatCow to be present because BatCow confuses Steph's hair for the premium hay Damian feeds her. You know sometimes I can't even with these people-

ENDING SCENE – DINNER (CHAOS)

(Dick is attempting to make a toast. Jason is drinking out of a wine glass full of Mountain Dew. Tim is asleep with his head on the table. Steph brought chips. Cass is gone. Damian is holding a sword. Y/N texting someone under the table.)

Dick: To family. (no one responds) Dick (again): To family?

You: Sorry I was distracted. My ex just got arrested and it’s literally not my fault this time.

NARRATOR:

“Next time on Trauma, Trust Funds & Tiaras...” – Bruce finds out the cameras caught him crying during Mamma Mia 2 – Jason crashes a golf cart whilst Y/N is gifted a new Mercedes-Maybach GLS 600 – Y/N and Steph start a petty war over iced coffee right before an important gala – Damian threatens legal action – Tim gets locked on the roof again

They're rich. They're reckless. And they're related. Gotham City's hottest messes aren't in jail.... they're in high society!

STAY TUNED FOR THE NEXT EPISODE OF THE WAYNES; TRAUMA, TRUST FUNDS & TIARAS!

MORE TO COME ON WN! ENTERTAINMENT

LMFAO I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED THIS

Likes, comments, reblogs and requests are highly appreciated! Requests are open!

Sources !-

Blue lines - @cursed-carmine

Bat dividers - @sister-lucifer

Batfam Header - Pinterest (Robin #6)

[petalbcrnes]

؛ ଓ ⸼ ࣪ ✿◌ ۪ ࣪ INKED SENSATIONS ┈┈ j. todd ִ ᭡ 🗯‌

　　﹒　 　 †　　　 𓈒　 　　୧　 　　₎

𐔌 ˖ ࣪ ꉂ🗯˙🫐⃟.꩜‹　𝓹airing𓈒　j. todd　tattooed ! reader𓈒 　　†

؛ ଓ ✶ your boyfriend reacts to your new tramp stamp tattoo　 𝜗 ། 　suggestive﹐1.3k wc　 𝜗 ། 　𝓵inks𓈒　　mlist　　rules𓈒

A simple tattoo. That’s all it was supposed to be. Ink— detailed swirling patterns and striking shapes all coming into one beautiful design— settled right above your tailbone. It was a decision that had been simmering in your mind for some time. Tattoos could be painful— and this one was no less painful than any other tattoo, but there was something alluring about it. Something like a siren’s call. The reaction of your sweet boyfriend proved that.

It was only a few days after you had gotten the tattoo that Jason noticed something different about you. Maybe the tattoo adorning your lower back had given you a different aura, or made you more confident, because he was like a hound who had just picked up a different scent.

His eyes stared at you with more intensity. Simple moments spent with each other— cooking in the kitchen while his head rested on your shoulder, cuddling on the couch on lazy week-days and so on— had changed with one minor detail.

His stare.

Maybe not so minor. You don’t think Jason knows how much power he holds with his gaze— the sea-green that mirrors a violent ocean turns into something softer when looking at you.

Even now, in your shared bedroom, at the early hours of the morning, he’s watching you as if you’re some puzzle he’s trying to solve. You can feel his gaze deep in your bones.

“Jay?”

You question, slowly turning around to face him. Your head instinctively settles on his outstretched arm. The corners of his lips curl upwards instinctively.

“Good morning, Pretty.”

His voice is like honey in the morning. The soft touch of his fingers caressing your cheek is actually sweeter than honey.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“I can’t look at you?”

You snort, for a moment hiding your smile by nuzzling into his arm.

“Yes, you can. But you’ve got a different look to you.”

He grins— the action almost dangerous as he shuffles closer and his arms cage you in his hold.

“You’re the one who’s been different.”

He answers while pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Maybe because I did do something a little bit different a few days ago.”

That catches his attention. His fingers tip your chin a bit higher so he can look at you. There’s a confused glint in his eye and a small pout on his lips, as if to complain about him not knowing about this change.

“Show me, please.”

There’s soft desperation to his voice. You’ve long discovered that Jason takes pride in you showing yourself to him— inside and out. You shuffle from the sheets, sitting up. He reluctantly lets go of you, but his hands still settle on your hips.

His eyes widen a bit when your hands find the hem of your sleep-shirt. Bringing the fabric up, you switch to your shorts, tugging it down slightly.

He gulps, eyes fluttering and mouth slightly open.

“Baby?—”

“Hush.” You stop him before he can question you. “Just look.”

You turn around, giving him a view of your exposed lower back. The tattoo is still healing, but the ink swirls on your skin beautifully. You lick your lips, anticipating his reaction.

Jason eyes truly widen at the sight. His hands that were settled on your hips ball up into fists— the knuckles turning slightly white. He instinctively licks his lips before his eyes find yours— a bit of a panicked glint in them. He sits up and you can only contain your giggles seeing his flustered reaction.

“Who did it? Was the place clean? Did it hurt? Did they make you uncomfortable?”

Of course his first concern was your well being— you can’t fault him for that. Though you want to push him a bit— tease him about it.

“You wanna touch it?”

You shuffle closer. The fabric is dangerously low— the entire tattoo is on display. You notice his hands flex, as if they desperately want to touch the inked skin. His eyes are ripped away from the tattoo as you offer him to touch the tattoo, as if to ask if you’re being serious.

“You’re such a—”

“Don’t act like you don’t want to.”

It’s a game at this point. Who will give in first? You decide to push his buttons a little more.

“I mean— I thought you’d wanna touch me after seeing the tattoo. Consider the fact I let some stranger stare and touch my back for hours.”

Jason scoffs, rolling his eyes. The annoyed click of his tongue only makes you want to try harder. You can tell your getting closer when his fingers push firmly into the skin of your hips.

Just a little more.

“I wanted to give you a surprise. Something nice to look at for next time we have—”

You don’t get to finish that sentence. He’s already on you. You can’t even comprehend how fast he pushes you on the bed, settled on your stomach and face in the soft pillows. His thighs keep you in place as his fingers trace down your exposed spine delicately before reaching your lower back and stopping at the tattoo.

“You wanted to give me an excuse to stare, huh?”

Even when talking, you can tell how focused he is on your tattoo. There’s concentration in his voice as he traces the ink. His touch falters sometimes, as if the sight of it is too much.

“Oh shut up. You like it.”

You quip back, turning your head around get a better look at him. You almost lose your breath.

His eyes are locked on the tattoo. His fingers trace the design. There is something completely different in the way he’s handling you right now. He’s acting as if he’s got a priceless art piece in his hands.

“Jason.” You sound breathless. “Stop staring at me like that.”

“Didn’t you ask me to look?”

“You’re not just looking. You’ve literally straddled me to just stare at it—”

You don’t get to finish, he has a knack for stealing the words straight out of your mouth.

Speaking of mouths— his is currently on your back, leaving small kisses down your spine.

“Jason!”

Your whimpers are muffled by the pillow under you. Your hands grip the sheets. You instinctively arch into the sheets as his kisses go lower and lower until he reaches the tattoo. You can feel how his kisses because even more attentive and slower. You can even feel his tongue graze the inked skin.

You let out a small, pitched moan at the sensations of his lips on you. The skin is still sensitive, making the sensations even more downright sinful as he kisses all over your lower back. He even smiles against it. A stupid fucking grin appears on his lips and you can feel it.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

You ask, voice shaking. You try and muffle any sounds coming out of your mouth by digging your face even deeper in the pillow. That only seems to excite him even more.

“I think you’re the one enjoying this more that I am, Pretty.”

“You’re such an ass.”

“Sure.”

He hums as he snatches the pillow from under your head. You yelp, caught of guard by his sudden action. His hand cradles your cheek to let you lay your head on the bed softly.

“Hey! Give that back!”

“Shut up. I need better access. Can you raise your hips for a second?”

He asks as if that’s just normal.

“I’m not— Jason, oh my god.”

You hide your flushed face in your hands. You can feel him shuffle right above you. He probably has a satisfied grin on his face. Curse him. Curse him and curse that stupid handsome smirk on his even stupider beautiful lips.

“What? You started it. Now, raise your hips for me, Pretty.”

﹒   ♪   ┊ INBOX OPEN.⠀⠀feel free to send me asks and suggestions in my inbox. ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

˖ `· . 𓏵 © 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐂𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒 don’t use my work without my consent. ... ⏤ㅤ Ⳋ ⊹

[sugary-strawberry-shortcake]

imagine this:

a soft girl.

sweet. shy.

the kind of innocent that doesn’t survive long in Gotham.

she’s adopted by Bruce Wayne when she’s just a little toddler.

her mother—Poison Ivy herself—disappears into Arkham, leaving behind a child blooming with powers no one understands.

the public only knows her as another Wayne.

the quiet one.

the polite one.

always in the background. always smiling.

the Batfamily doesn’t mean to ignore her.

but they’re busy.

always fighting. always bleeding. always choosing Gotham over home.

she grows up in silence.

two years younger than Damian.

never invited on patrol. never really seen.

until she’s eighteen.

and stolen.

auctioned off in Gotham’s underground like a relic.

and by the time they find her,

she’s gone.

Bruce doesn’t cry.

Bruce doesn’t scream.

he opens the vault beneath the manor.

reads the ritual Ivy left behind.

a curse. a bloom. a sacrifice.

he trades everything for one more chance.

and it works.

they go back.

to before.

when she’s fourteen.

but here’s the thing:

only she remembers.

she wakes up in her bed.

on a normal Monday.

Alfred knocking gently at the door, calling her “little flower.”

Damian already downstairs.

the mansion is the same.

the people are the same.

but she’s not.

she doesn’t smile at Damian anymore.

she doesn’t try to sit closer at breakfast.

she doesn’t ask Tim about his tech, or draw Jason new designs, or follow Dick around like a shadow.

she’s quiet.

polite.

distant.

planning.

because this time, she’s not going to wait to die.

she’s going to escape before it happens again.

the family doesn’t understand.

not at first.

but something in them aches when they look at her.

Bruce stares too long.

Damian bristles when she walks away.

Jason keeps checking her window locks.

Dick starts leaving notes on her door.

Tim starts digging—deeper than he should.

and then Tim finds it.

a corrupted file buried in the Batcave servers.

dated four years ahead.

case name: Project Bloom.

subject: YN Wayne.

status: deceased.

attached: a full report on Bruce’s forbidden ritual to bring her back.

photos of her body.

scans of her blood.

and a line of Bruce’s handwriting at the bottom:

“She was too good for Gotham.

I will not lose her again.”

and suddenly—

they remember.

not clearly.

not all at once.

but enough.

and now?

they’re watching her.

closer than ever.

following her every move.

speaking softer. holding tighter.

locking every door behind her.

because this time,

they know what happens when she slips through their fingers.

and they won’t let her go.

not ever again.

[hisfavoritesundress]

a/n: unedited, not proofread, just for fun <3

dating jason todd as red hood is something you haven't prepared yourself with.

aside from being the eventual personal nurse of his, but also your crazy bodyguard.

im not just talking about walking you home or taking you safely to any destination. He know your schedule every damn day, in every second, in every minute, with your knowledge of course, he wants you to understand that he is your boyfriend, and that's his job to protect you, but that doesn't mean he wants to control you, just letting you know that he'll jump off a building for you, just your word is all he needed.

he's jason todd, he doesn't settle for less., especially when it comes to your safety.

talking about tracking device, not just on your phone, he's not taking any chances, he's putting it everywhere, making a device inside a pendant, that small unnoticeable earrings, even around the band of your rings, panic button disguise as a cutesy little keychain, or even a pink little wrist watch, to monitor your pulse, all those devices connected to him, monitoring you when he's away and he'll be damned if something happens to you.

"this is a very cute keychain jay," you beamed, looking at him as he hand you a new design of keychain he made using 3d printer.

"yeah, it got a tracker, just in case," he said looking at you, "call me immediately if something came up, you can press it, it's a panic button too."

you bite a smile, "you're the best"

well, you're in Gotham and he's not risking even a little bit, so you can't blame him either.

"if you see something unusual, walk the other way, got it?" he said with that slight commanding voice that he used everytime he's talking about danger or Gotham or both, to you.

you look up to him. "yeah, got it"

"don't hesitate to call me or press that button, don't try to fight, just run if you can," he said even if the idea of you running from danger spins his head and taste bitter in his mouth, but it's the reality, despite how much he wants you to be in safety, there are circumstances that you might get involved.

"what if i don't have a choice but to fight babe?" you asked, curiously.

which he's well aware of, but he doesn't want to worry you.

he turn his back to the stainless steel table at the side and grab something and take it to you.

"this is a switch blade," he said, despite his initial disagreement of giving it to you, not that he doesn't trust you but because he would prefer you not getting hurt in the process, "it looks like a pen but when you click this," he demonstrate, clicking the button at the top, then the knife no longer than 5 cm glints under the florescent light, "it won't kill a man but it can nip a skin that would give you enough time to," he paused, "if it ever happened which won't ever," he added emphasizing his words, "will give you enough time to run," he added, watching your reaction, "press the same button, the blade goes back in."

"that's so cool," you smile, wanting to try it now, but he pulled his arm away before you could get the weapon.

"i want you to understand that this is not something you can just play around, doll," he frowned, unimpressed of your smile.

"yeah I know babe," you said, looking up to him. "I just wanna try it'

"you won't use it unless, unless, you really really need it," he said, firmly, "this is your last resort, you have every means of reaching me before you use this," he added, "are we clear?"

you nodded again.

"use your words"

"i promise, i won't use it unless i really really need it," you repeated, taking his words to heart.

he sighs and hand you the cute weapon, it's in pink, with glitter details around the rim of the button. "just be careful around it," he said, never looking away from you.

you smile softly, "i promise, i do, I'll call you first."

he sighs, at least you and him are in the same page, "okay," he said, reluctant to give the weapon to you, "you have to press it with a bit pressure so the blade comes out," he explained, while you hold the ball pen around your hand, "so it won't be an accident, when you bury it in your bag" he added.

"does it comes with other colors too?" you asked, looking at the table.

he shook his head, "no, just one, I only made that for you," he said.

weeks later, he saw you opening a package using the very weapon, he only shook his head and smile, cause let's face it, he's your real weapon.

[ditzybeee]

❥・Jason Todd — high school bf

❥・tags: jason todd blurb, jason todd is a loverboy, jason todd is a loser, high school sweethearts, gn!reader, no use of y/n, implied dialogue, loosely based on me and my bf :3

❥・word count: 636

❥・─────────────────────

Jason Todd is crushing hard.

The two of you met freshman year and he couldn't get you out of his head since.

He, of course, went through the painful process of friends-to-lovers. Because he'd rather make sure you liked him—a lot—before considering flirting.

Not that you'd know it.

He was bad at it. He was so, so bad at it.

Stupid lines from his stupid novels. Did you even read Jane Austen?

Never mind that you thought it was cute—you thought he was cute—lucky him.

When Jason asked you out, it couldn't be less cheesy. Full bouquet of flowers—which he didn't burden you with holding for the school day—and a bunch of your favorite snacks, which you promptly shoved into your bag before your teachers questioned them.

Newly dating and he was so excited. Nervous and sweaty palmed holding your hand in his, smiling ear to ear.

He'd walk you to class, even if it's across campus.

Sure, a few tardies would damage his perfect record, but he can't afford you missing your classes.

Dates with Jason were something else. Bruce had Dick chaperone the first few—either that or the dates were at the manor. Not that he didn't trust you, but he didn't trust Jason.

And he wanted to see his second son awkwardly maneuver speaking to his own partner.

Jason shared his first kiss with you on his first non-chaperoned date. A picnic some spring day in which he kept sneezing because of the pollen, mumbling about how badly he looked.

You stared at him in awe, giggling, and helping him wipe his face.

He was so, so in love with you that he whispered if he could kiss you, and quickly did when you accepted.

As high school continued, your relationship blossomed.

Both families trusted the other to keep their child safe when they slept over, to send the two of you to different cities and states for events, and to allow trips.

Jason first said "I love you" when he saw you in your dance attire. Sure, he's seen you in formal wear before. But this? This takes the cake.

He kissed you quickly, whispering the three words into your ear before Alfred made you two pose for pictures.

This same scenario repeated every time the two of you had a dance.

Every dance, every school event, every club meeting, you and Jason were there together.

It was about junior year when he told you about Robin and how he was thinking of changing it to Red Hood once you two graduated. He took your pointers for his new costume design—after a week-long argument about him being a vigilante and how dangerous it was.

He asked you to prom in a long-winded text message—multiple questions of whether you wanted a public promposal—it was obvious he used speech-to-text, and the message mirrored his speech patterns.

The dance was great. Dinner was delicious and the night was equal parts your boyfriend and equal parts your friends.

The days leading up to graduation were full of anxiety and joy.

You and Jason would stay out well past your curfews—which were basically obsolete, as both families didn't enforce it, as long as you were with each other—and just hang out.

You'd talk about your plans after high school—college, trade school, straight to work?

He'd mumble soft praises against your skin as you ramble about your ambitions, mirroring your energy when you asked about his vigilante plans.

Graduation—Jason's eyes hadn't been dry for a single second that day. He sobbed when you walked across the stage, when you cheered just as loudly for him, and when he saw you in your graduation gown all dressed up.

Jason loves the title "high school sweethearts".

❥・─────────────────────

❥・a/n: im feelin soft for my boy rn :( obvi no trauma au if he never DIED <3 more smut soon tho! i wont have internet the week after this coming week so ill try and get as much stuff out as possible!

❥・masterlist

[pomegranatelifethis]

The first excitement

The day you found out you were pregnant, Bruce first hugged you tightly, then, with deep seriousness, said, "I will provide the best environment for you and our baby." At that moment, you didn’t fully understand what that meant—until a few days later, when you started noticing that everything you loved and found cute was piling up in the house.

At first, you liked it. Knowing Damian’s fondness for kittens, one day, you casually said, "Little cats are really adorable." The next day, at least five different plush cat toys arrived at the house. Then, you mentioned that you liked the tiny penguin design on Tim’s coffee mug. Bruce heard this, and within a few days, the kitchen was filled with penguin-themed utensils.

But things spiraled out of control when Dick showed you a baby elephant video to cheer you up, and you exclaimed, "That’s insanely cute!" A week later, a corner of the Batcave was overflowing with elephant-themed baby toys. Even Jason walked in, raised an eyebrow, and said, "Even I think this is too much."

At some point, the house became suffocating. In the peak of your hormonal fluctuations, you stood in the middle of the living room, looking around. Plush toys everywhere, tiny blankets, cute animal figures on the walls… And suddenly, your eyes welled up.

"ENOUGH!" you exploded.

Everyone froze. Dick stood still, holding a tiny teddy bear. Damian, petting the new kitten Alfred had just brought him, looked at you. Tim slowly set down his coffee mug. Jason leaned back on the couch, watching the scene unfold with great amusement.

But the biggest reaction came from Bruce. "But… I was trying to create the best environment for our baby," he said, his eyes wide with confusion.

Between hiccups, you cried, "Yes, but our house looks like a toy store! I’m hormonal, I’m exhausted, and everything is overwhelming me!"

Silence. Then Dick bit his lower lip to keep from laughing, but Jason let out a loud, mocking chuckle. "I wish I had recorded this. The mighty Batman, completely lost in the middle of an emotional crisis."

Bruce quickly composed himself and gently pulled you into his arms. "Alright, alright… I went overboard. I’m sorry. What do you want me to do?"

Taking a deep breath, you mumbled, "Just… let’s scale it down, okay?"

That’s when the Batfamily sprang into action.

Tim immediately started making a list. "Alright, we can return the unnecessary stuff."

Dick grinned. "And we can donate some toys. The kids at the orphanage will love them."

Damian, with a serious expression, declared, "The cats stay. They’re non-negotiable."

Jason shrugged. "I’d personally burn half of this, but donation works too."

Bruce sighed and nodded. "Alright, everyone, get organized. We’re sorting this mess out."

In the end, the house became livable again. And you realized that, no matter how chaotic they were, the Batfamily always came together in moments of crisis. And maybe, just maybe, a little extra cuteness wasn’t so bad—at least, in moderation.

The Batfamily’s attempt to systematically resolve the “excessive cuteness” crisis had turned into complete chaos. Tim was sorting out items to be returned, checking his list, while Jason, clearly bored, was tossing some plush toys into the air.

"Let’s donate this one."

"This is unnecessary—trash."

"Can we keep this one? It’s so cute!"

Then, Damian turned to Bruce, holding a tiny plush bat. "I’m keeping this one. Because it makes sense. We are bats."

Jason sighed. "Yes, of course. Because logic is what truly matters here."

Bruce, however, still didn’t seem ready to part with anything. As Batman, he had stopped countless criminals, fought in Gotham’s darkness for years… but now, the real challenge was getting rid of plush toys without upsetting his loved ones.

Noticing Bruce’s hesitation, Dick stepped closer, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Hey, you’re getting used to being in dad mode, you know? Don’t panic. We got this."

Bruce took a deep breath and nodded. "Alright. But… let’s keep a few things. For our baby."

Sitting on the couch, watching the scene unfold, you felt your emotions fluctuating—thanks to your hormones—but at the same time, a warmth filled your chest. Sure, Bruce was going a little overboard, but that was because he just wanted you and your baby to be as happy as possible. And now, the entire family was involved.

Eventually, most unnecessary items were sorted out. Tim and Dick organized the donations, Jason planned to dispose of some in his own way, but Alfred stepped in to ensure everything was properly sent off. Meanwhile, Damian had somehow succeeded in increasing the household’s cat population—there were now three instead of one.

That night, after everyone had left, Bruce sat beside you, resting a hand on your stomach. "I guess I got a little too excited," he admitted.

You smiled and leaned your head against his shoulder. "A little?"

The two of you chuckled softly, settling into a comfortable silence. Bruce’s protective, loving nature could sometimes be overwhelming, but with this chaotic, affectionate family by your side, you knew everything was going to be just fine.

Late into the night, just as you thought you’d finally found some peace, you lay down in bed and closed your eyes. However, just as sleep was about to take you, the bedroom door creaked open. At first, you assumed it was Bruce coming in to say something, but instead, Tim stepped inside.

"I just wanted to make sure… Do you really want to donate the penguin-patterned blanket? Or maybe, you know… we could keep it, just in case you like it?" he whispered.

You sighed, keeping your eyes closed. "Tim, I’m trying to sleep."

Tim nodded but didn’t move from the doorway. "Okay, but… are you really sure?"

Before you could answer, another voice echoed from the hallway. "If you're going to keep bothering her, at least do it quietly, Drake."

Damian stood in the doorway, arms crossed. "Disturbing a pregnant person only proves how useless you truly are."

Tim rolled his eyes. "I just care about her preferences, okay? This is a delicate process."

"How ridiculous." Damian sighed and walked away.

Just as Tim was about to leave, another troublemaker appeared at the door—Dick. With a wide grin, he slid into the room and immediately crouched beside the bed.

"Are you okay? Do you need anything?" he asked, his eyes shining with concern.

Bruce stirred, cracking one eye open. "What’s going on?" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

"Nothing! Just checking in!" Dick quickly raised his hands in surrender. "We’re here to help!"

Before Bruce could give him a stern look, Jason’s voice drifted in from the hallway.

"If everyone’s taking turns barging in, I might as well join. What am I missing?"

You buried your face into your pillow and groaned. "Why is everyone suddenly in full-on parent mode?"

Bruce rubbed his eyes and shot the others a sharp glare. "Everyone. Back to your rooms. Now."

Dick glanced at Bruce’s serious expression, then shrugged with a small smile. "Alright, alright, we’re going. But remember, I’m always here for you." He walked out the door.

Tim clutched the blanket to his chest and quietly slipped away. Jason, clearly amused by the whole thing, chuckled. "That was fun to watch," he said before disappearing down the hall.

Finally, the door closed, and silence returned.

Bruce, still half-asleep, pulled you close. "I know they can be a lot, but… they really care about you."

You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder. "I know. But if they keep this up until the baby is born, the real crisis will happen then."

Bruce let out a quiet chuckle, pulling you even closer. "I’ll keep them under control."

But both of you knew that keeping the whole family in check was harder than cleaning up Gotham’s crime.

In the following days, the Batfamily’s overly attentive behavior showed no signs of slowing down. At this point, you had to take a deep breath before entering any room because, without fail, someone would be there—thinking about you (and sometimes overthinking for you).

One morning, when you went downstairs for breakfast, you found Damian standing next to Alfred. As usual, Alfred was calmly preparing a nutritious meal for you, while Damian, brows furrowed, was scribbling something in a notebook.

"What are you doing?" you asked.

Without looking up, Damian replied, "I’m researching the ideal age range to begin the baby’s combat training."

You paused mid-bite and stared at him. "Combat… what?"

"If they start young, they could master basic fighting techniques by the age of ten. Of course, we’d have to modernize Father’s traditional training methods. Also—"

Shaking your head, you held up a hand. "No. No, Damian. Our baby will not be training for combat anytime soon. They’ll play with toys, listen to bedtime stories, and—oh, I don’t know—just be a normal child?"

Damian frowned. "But—"

"No."

Alfred smiled softly and patted Damian’s shoulder. "Perhaps we should revisit this discussion in a few years, young master."

Just as you thought you could finally relax, Tim walked into the kitchen, balancing a laptop in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

"Hey, you’re up. I made a chart to monitor your vitamin D levels. We need to increase your daily intake because during pregnancy, your bone health—"

You groaned, rubbing your temples. "Tim, please. Just one morning without a health chart while I eat?"

Tim hesitated, then nodded. "Sure. But I’m still going to ask you to check it later. The data is really interesting."

Before you could respond, Dick entered the kitchen carrying a bag.

"Surprise!" he announced, pulling out tiny, brightly colored baby onesies. "I saw these and had to get them for the baby!"

You picked one up—it was bright blue and had “Future Acrobat” written on it.

"Dick…" you said, exhaustion in your voice.

"Wait, I haven’t shown you the best one yet!" He excitedly pulled out a yellow onesie from the bottom of the bag. Across the front, in big bold letters, it read: "Mini Nightwing."

As Dick beamed at you, Jason walked in and observed the situation. He rolled his eyes.

"Great. The kid’s already being pushed into circus life before they’re even born."

Dick shot him a glare. "Hey! Flexibility is important!"

Jason turned to you, smirking. "This is all a bit much. But if you ever want to see the baby in a tiny leather jacket, I’ve got ideas."

Laughing, you shook your head. "Jason, I am not putting a leather jacket on the baby."

Jason shrugged. "Alright. But let me know if you change your mind."

Just as you thought the chaos had peaked, Bruce walked into the kitchen. Everyone immediately turned to him. He raised an eyebrow at the sheer number of people gathered.

"What’s going on?"

Without hesitation, you rushed to his side and tugged on his sleeve. "Please. Get me out of here."

Bruce studied you for a moment, then turned to the others with a sharp look. "Alright. Everyone, clear out."

The group erupted in protests, but as soon as Bruce’s Batman glare came into play, they reluctantly started to disperse.

With the kitchen finally quiet, you took a deep breath. Bruce crossed his arms, watching you.

"Are you really that exhausted?"

You shot him a tired but affectionate look. "Your family is… a lot."

Bruce let out a small chuckle and nodded. "I know."

Smiling, you leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his waist. No matter how chaotic they were, one thing was clear—this family cared about you and the baby more than anything. And that meant you were part of the safest—and most insane—family in the world.

[cosmic-dust-poltergeist]

Pt 4 of the Danny is Tim's 99th attempt at cloning Kon. A 3 year old Danny finally meets his not dead anymore template.

[Pt 3: here] [Pt 5:Here]

Danny is so nervous he feels like he's going to throw up. His Template, who was dead and now isn't, is coming over to meet him. He knows his dad wouldn't let the guy near if he thought he'd react poorly to Danny, and Danny is excited about maybe having an adult (barely, technically, since he's 18) to help him figure out his new alien heritage, but he's still scared shitless. He wants this to go well so badly.

"Danny," Tim sighs in fond exasperation, "Come here, sweetheart."

Danny floats himself into dad's lap, tucking himself to his chest.

"Kon has been just as nervous to meet you." Tim kisses the top of Danny's head, just before Danny turns a wide-eyed look towards him. "He's the sweetest himbo and has been gushing about meeting you, but he's terrified you won't like him."

"Rweally?"

"Yeah, one of his deepest desires and deepest traumas is his want of family. But he doesn't want to pressure you into accepting any sort of relationship with him." Tim explains before cracking a sardonic smile. "Which is a big mood. I'm pretty sure most of the younger heroes have imposter syndrome."

"Why?"

"For many reasons. Kon was, and sometimes still is, discriminated against and frankly abused for being a clone. I forced my way into the Wayne family and was repeatedly told I didn't belong. Jason never had a stable life. Damian was a rape baby and raised in the LoA til he was 10. Dick was kicked out by Bruce once he aged out of fostering age. Jason's "not" boyfriend, Roy, was shunned for developing a drug habit after gaining significant trauma." Tim lists off. "A lot of the younger heroes couldn't lean on the adults in their lives, and it leaves scars. We've all found our footing, and deserve everything good we have in our lives, but the feeling of unworthiness is hard to escape."

Danny hugs his dad around the neck. He knew some of this dad and co lore, but it makes him sad each time. No one in his new family family has had easy lives, but are still so nice.

Tim suddenly looks mischievous, "All that to say, Kon has been texting me all morning about what he should wear, do I actually think you'll like him, if he should bring a gift or would you think he's bribing you to like him-"

"Tim!" A guy whines as he enters. He's wearing a leather jacket over a band t-shirt and black jeans. He clothes don't hide how he's shredded and probably 6 inches, at least, taller than Tim. He's holding a puzzle box and looks flustered and embarrassed.

"It's true!" Tim grins at the newcomer, before adjusting his angle to give Danny a slightly better view. "Danny, this is Kon, your DNA donor. Kon, this is my- our son, Danny."

Danny shyly waves as a blushing Kon sputters and protests Tim's choice of introductions.

"What? I did all the work, you just provided the DNA. Maybe if there's a next time, I'll let you help." Tim teases, and is hilariously oblivious to the gutter Danny can see Kon's mind drop into.

Danny has found his dad to be absolutely oblivious to anytime someone is into him, outside of Ra's. Danny watched so many people try to shoot their shot, and Tim cluelessly rebuff them. Danny thought he was doing it on purpose at first, but soon realized, no, his dad just has low self-esteem and truly doesn't think anyone finds him desirable. It's as funny as it is sad.

"So mean." Kon pouts before holding up the puzzle box for Danny to see the design. It's a thousand piece nebula puzzle. "I ended up getting you this puzzle. Tim- Your dad told me you love space and are super smart, so I thought you'd enjoy this puzzle."

Danny blinks, looking between the barely adults, before deciding to be funny. He says in his gravest voice. "So you chose bribery."

Danny gets the glorious view of Kon's face dropping in shock. Tim is literally shaking as he tries not to laugh, knowing Danny is pulling the guy's leg. The Drakes let him flounder for a moment, trying to find a response to that, before Danny can't help giggling, which pushes Tim over the edge and start cackling, startling Kon into silence.

"You should have seen your face!" Tim wheezes.

Kon gets a dopey look on his face. "You're just messing with me."

Danny nods with a grin. He wiggles to be put down, which Tim complies with, still giggling. Danny trots up to his template.

"You're silly." Danny informs him before holding his arms up and demanding. "Up!"

Kon quickly sets the puzzle on an end table near him before picking Danny up. He looks a little nervous when Danny stares hard at his face. "Um?"

Danny takes in all the shared features between them, some harder to see with the 16 year age difference, but it's sort of soothing to see. He gets distracted when he notices Kon's piercings, gasping and taking a closer look.

"How!?" He excitedly, but gently grabs Kon's ear piercings. Danny had gotten similar ear piercings when he was a ghost, and he misses them, but figured he wasn't going to be able to get them done in this body. It being nearly indestructible and all.

"Oh, my piercings?" Danny nods, leaning forward to take a closer look. "I'm sure you noticed it's hard to hurt us, but there's a rock called kryptonite, and depending on the colour, different things can happen."

"I thought kryptonite just hurt?" Danny asks, pulling back to look at Kon's face.

"It can. Green kryptonite is the most common, and it will hurt you. It turns off your powers and slowly poisons you, and if not taken away quickly, can kill us. Gold kryptonite is the rarest type and will permanently remove kryptonian abilities and usually leaves permanent injuries. So please do your best to avoid those types." Kon explains, "Red kryptonite should probably also be avoided, it makes kryptonians angry and turns off your inhibitions, but it won't technically hurt you to be exposed to it. The last colour I know of is blue. Blue kryptonite doesn't harm you or mess with your mental abilities. It just turns off all of your kryptonian abilities for however long it touches your skin. I have a blue kryptonite necklace I wear whenever I want tattoos or piercings."

Danny turns pleading eyes to his dad. "Can I get ear piercings??"

Danny can't help, but notice an infatuated smile on Tim's face before the man huffs a laugh and walks over. He runs a hand through Danny's hair.

"If you still want them when you're 5, I'll let you." Tim hums, "I don't want it to be an impulsive decision, and people will be less weird about a five year old getting their ears pierced. You might still get weird looks since you're a boy, but that's their problem, not yours."

"Okay!" Danny cheers. He hasn't told his dad about his past life/afterlife, so he can understand the hesitance over letting 3 year old get a body mod, even if it's just a single set of ear piercings, on what seems like a whim. He's honestly surprised he only has to wait til he's 5. Tim can be a bit of a helicopter parent, but then again, Tim really wants Danny to be his own person, never once shaming him for not fitting into a mold.

His aunts and uncles and grandpa have all made comments when they think he can't hear about how different or similar he is to Kon. Or when he shows gender non-conforming interests. Tim gets mad at them anytime he realizes Danny heard them. He doesn't want Danny to feel bad about any of it. Siting that "no shit" there's going to be similarities and differences, that's how children work, clone or not, and how gender is a social construct. He usually starts picking apart all of his siblings' behaviors at that point, pointing out what they inherented from Bruce, what is trauma born, and what's uniquely their's so he assumes they're from their respective parents, as well as all the things they do that don't fall under what society thinks their gender should do. It's funny, but also very nice. Danny loves his dad.

The true question right now, though, is: will he love, or even just like, his template? Danny doesn't hate what he's heard and seen so far, but actual fondness or affection needs time.

"How about we head to the gym?" Tim says, "Kon can show you some of his powers."

"Can I fly higher?" Danny isn't allowed to fly more than 4 feet in the air. Which is annoying, but fair. Again, he's 3.

"Only if you stay in arm's reach of Kon when you do."

"Okay!!" Danny cheers, purposely flailing around. Kon's hold on him tightens slightly to make sure he doesn't fall, but it's not painful. Another point to the DNA donor. That's about five in his favour during this interaction alone.

"Already flying, little man?" Kon grins.

"Yeah!"

"He figured out how to fly before how to run." Tim chuckles, "Now he does both any chance he gets. It keeps things lively."

"I imagine." Kon's grin turns a little gooey, before letting himself float and zip to the gym. "Let's have so fun!"

Danny can't help his chuckles. Kon flies there faster than Danny's allowed currently. It's fun!

Danny also can't help but notice Tim isn't in a rush to catch up. Meaning Tim fully trusts Kon with Danny's life. That's a trust that took the rest of the family months to gain, even though Tim knew they wouldn't hurt him. Danny isn't sure what to make of that knowledge, but it definitely makes him more inclined to like his template.

And by dinner time, Danny does genuinely like the guy. He respects everything Tim and Danny have to say, shows Danny a bunch of fun tricks with their powers, and let's Danny lead their games. He's fun, nice, and most importantly, not creepy. He clearly likes his dad in a more than friends way, but is hesitant to act on it, clearly not wanting to fuck up with either Tim or Danny.

Unfortunately for Danny, he can see Tim likes Kon back, but his dad is an idiot and doesn't realize it. So now he has to figure out how to get his dad to realize he's into his template without it being weird.

But really, what was Danny expecting? Trying to clone your "best friend" a hundred times isn't exactly hetero behavior. He decides he's going to enlist Uncle Damian and Uncle Jason. It's for his dad's own good at this point.

He also debates on if he's going to try to parent trap them. He likes Kon, but he doesn't know him well enough to commit to the bit just yet. He'll decide later, once he knows more.

[blond3ang3l]

⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱♱⋰⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱⋰

Readers said to be on the more feminine side so nothing new for me honestly. Of course, southern Jason headcanon

Plug! Jason Todd who absolutely adores coming to your place late night to smoke with you. At first you weren’t sure since he was just a friend of a friend, but you ended up finding the kinda weird rugged man. You guys didn’t have much in common. Actually you didn’t have like anything in common really besides you both smoking to relieve stress. That wasn’t in no way gonna stop him from getting your attention. Using his southern drawl to catch your attention. Easily able to tell him apart from everyone else in a crowd because of how thick his accent is.

His legs spread apart as he pat his thigh to get your attention away from the blunt you were busy trying to light. “Cmere doll.” He didnt have to tell you twice before you crawled over to the side of the bed he was on. Having no where else to sit but between his legs you made your way to your “designated” spot. He would have had a fit if you had sat anywhere else. He took the blunt that was wrapped in pink rolling paper specifically for you and the matching lighter, doing the honor of lighting it for you.

“Almost burned y’ damn nail off. Should’ve let me do it from the start.” He could see on your face you were about to protest so brought the blunt back to your lips, using his thumb to tap your jaw. “Cmon, open up.” Your eyes moved up to meet his gaze. His eyes low and red from how much he had already smoked before coming over to you. You weren’t one to decline free shit though. Wrapping your glossed lips around the blunt he felt a smirk on his face. You had him completely wrapped around your finger and didnt even know it.

⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱♱⋰⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱⋰

I only made this cause love this picture sm

[the-halloween-jack]

Déjà Vu ✢ Jason Todd

Synopsis: When the reader's comms grow suddenly silent, Jason Todd's worst fear takes shape — not just the possibility of losing someone, but the cold, inescapable echoes of a past he could never bury. As he fights his way through the grime of Gotham City, one truth becomes undeniable: some nightmares never cease, they resurface. Jason Todd x Reader, female pronouns.

Warnings: Angst, graphic descriptions of violence, mentions of death, mentions of past domestic violence. Masterlist

Notes: This is my first Jason Todd piece after many years of reading them. Hopefully, it is the first of many <3

Words: 3,181k

The first hit split her lip.

The second sent her to her knees.

The third stole her breath, left her gasping, hands splayed in the warmth of her own blood beneath her.

‘Oh, sweetheart.’ He drawled, ‘I have to say, I love the symmetry of this.’ 

The Joker laughed, one hand gesturing to her, the other twirling the gruesome crowbar between his gloved fingers like a baton. Y/N spat red onto the warehouse floor, teeth bared with something akin to a smile, though it was distorted with her wrath. ‘Go to hell.’

He tutted, shaking his head as though he were a disappointed teacher. ‘Now, now, don’t be like that, darling. You should be honoured! Not just anybody gets a starring role in one of my reruns.’

Her knees remained on the glistening crimson concrete as she forced herself upright, muscles shrieking with the exertion. Y/N could feel the blood seeping into the fibres of her clothes; it was quickly turning cold. She was trembling. Weak. But she refused to stay down, to yield. She knew what this very situation had done to Jason, witnessed the wreckage it left in its wake. The man it had turned him into.

She would not grant Joker the satisfaction of her fear.

He sighed dramatically. ‘Honestly… I was hoping for a bit more fight from you; after all, I did a number on you.’ He waved the crowbar, a looming threat. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll keep the rest quick. After all, we wouldn’t want lover boy to catch the show.’

Jason.

Her heart slammed painfully against her ribs. She could not comprehend how he knew what Jason was to her. They had always been so careful.

He was coming. Y/N knew it; she could feel his pending presence like a tempest looming in the ether. But he would not make it here in time. That was the whole objective. The Joker had planned this, crafted it. It had all but nothing to do with her, he stitched it together like a grotesque puppet show designed solely to torment him.

Just as he had before.

Her whole form rattled with each sputtered breath; she swore she could feel her fragmented bones shift within her, but she forced herself to move, to push forward. There was something she yearned to tell him, something he needed to know; it was long overdue. If she could only stall, draw out this awful night, but she could only stretch so far before it would splinter. She could feel it; her life was drawn like a string, taut and thrumming. She feared with one more blow, it would snap under the strain. 

Y/N could not bear the thought of him finding her like this, discovering her body; it left a bad taste in her mouth, it burned bitter; she choked on it. 

The Joker noticed this. His wicked grin stretched wider, more daunting, eyes alight with sick amusement. ‘So you do have some fight left in you. That’s adorable.’

Then, he swung and her vision erupted with stars, they burned with a white-hot agony.

She barely felt herself hit the ground, as though her body was not hers anymore, it was something distant, something leaden, she could already feel reality receding. A small, bitter part of her recognised the poetry of it. Saw what the Joker was trying to achieve, the symmetry, as he had called it.

Y/N had spent so long learning how to crawl her way back from death. This could not be the exception. 

The Joker crouched beside her, his shoes shifting against the concrete, she watched them from her new place on the floor and stared as the newly shed blood glistened from his soles. 

‘Aw, don’t check out on me just yet, peaches. The real fun hasn’t even started.’

He reached out for her face as if in a caress, his gloved fingers grazing ever so gently down her cheek as though he had not just beaten her within an inch of her life. Bile rose in her throat at his touch; it burned like acid. 

She could barely see him now. Her vision was oscillating, black setting in at the edges. But she could hear him. She could feel the suffocating weight of inevitability settle over her like a burial shroud.

Jason was not going to make it; this realisation settled like a cold, unforgiving weight in her chest, smothering each breath she took. The fragile threads of hope she had held onto retreated into the abyss. Her heart ached as the cruel truth settled over her; Jason would arrive too late. He would never hear the words she so desperately longed to convey; the unspoken confession burned in her chest, restricted by time.

She was not going to survive this, the Joker would never allow it. Jason would find her like this, broken, derelict. She would not get the chance to explain. 

He leaned in close now, breath hot against her ear; it sent a shudder down her form. ‘I adore the symmetry I’ve created thus far, there’s only one thing left to do; I want him to see the damage I’ve done.’

‘Y’know,’ he murmured, still close to her face, voice low and sweet like the whisper of a lover, ‘he’s never gonna forgive himself for this.’

She ached to tell him he was wrong, that Jason would endure. That she would be okay. That he would not be unmade by this. But the words curdled in the warmth of her throat, thick with blood, the murk coiled around her like a patient tide; she was already ebbing from the world, conceding to its darkness.

Joker pulled away, sighing. ‘Ah well. C’est la vie.’

He stepped aside, allowing a red glow to seep into her stunted view, steady, unrelenting, and ominous. Her wavering vision had the numbers mangle into indistinct shapes, but she required no clarity. Y/N already knew what they meant. She braced herself, eyes fluttering shut. 

Jason could feel it like a thrum, like static in the air, like pressure boring into his skull. He grew tense, as though a spectre gripped the back of his neck in an unrelenting grasp. The comms had gone silent. Her comms. She never went silent.

His fingers wreathed tighter around the throttles of his bike as Gotham blurred past him, neon lights receding into its gloom as he tore through the streets. The city was too loud, too alive, too unaware of what was festering beneath its surface.

His mind clawed at the last words she had said before the line cut out, ‘I’ve got it, Jay. Don’t worry.’

But he did worry. He always worried. And now that worry had shifted into something sharp and breathless, twisting deep in his chest; he fought for air.

A crackle in his ear. Tim. ‘Jason…’ 

‘Where is she?’ He did not like the desperation in his voice, but he could not quell it.

A pause. Too long. Too weighted.

Then, a sigh. ‘An abandoned warehouse off of Dock 52.’

He was already turning the bike. Already forcing the engine to its limit. He ran red lights and tore through intersections, deaf to the horns, blind to the people, heedless to everything but the address burning itself into his mind, searing to his vision.

A warehouse.

His stomach plummeted. He knew what that meant.

He knew what would happen there.

He knew what Joker planned to do.

His pulse pounded in his ears. His breath turned shallow, quick and useless. His grip on the handlebars was white-knuckled, and his mind — his mind was a reel of tainted memories, a horror film of times gone past. This was not happening. This was not happening. This was not...

‘Jason.’ Dick’s voice this time. Steady. Trying to ground him. It only made it worse.

‘We’ll get her.’

But Jason already knew he was too late. It could never be that easy.

The flames licked and devoured the crumbling ruins around him, their heat pressed against his skin, yet somehow, he had never felt colder. It was the awful crimson that had first caught his eye; her body, once so strong and sure, now lay in a heap, decrepit and ghastly in a pool of her own blood. He did not recall making his way to her beaten frame, but abruptly, his knees had hit the concrete, a hollow, sickening sound swallowed by the vast emptiness of the desolate space. With trembling fingers, he reached for her and pulled her into his embrace.

Blood crept up his knuckles, stark and seeped within the crevices of his pale, illuminated skin.

It crept beneath his fingernails.

Her blood.

His hands shook violently with this foul revelation. The warehouse smelled of rust and rot, of soot and smoke, of something macabre. Shadows stretched against the walls, twisted structures caught in the flickering light of bare bulbs, but Jason could not see them. He could not perceive anything beyond her.

His breath was trapped somewhere in his ribs, clawing at his throat, fighting its way out as a broken, trembling sob.

No. No, no, no, no...

She was still warm.

That was the worst part.

Her body had not yet caught up with the brutal finality of her death. He had been close, so close. The blood that seeped from her skull was fresh, staining the floor, staining him, sinking into the creases of his clothes, into the cracks of his skin, imbibing itself into his very bones.

He glanced unwillingly to his side and saw a joker card weighed down by a battered crowbar. It was left there to taunt him; he felt a stinging pain rise in his throat.

He already knew this story.

He had lived this story.

Jason pressed a shaking hand to her cheek, fingers skimming over the torn skin of her temple. Her head lolled, lifeless, into his palm. His vision blurred. The world was shattering around him, the air closing in too fast, too tight.

This was not supposed to happen. Not again. Not to her. Not her.

A choked sound wrenched itself from his throat, raw and brutal. He wanted to tear the world apart, wanted it to burn, wanted to take everything Joker had ever touched and reduce it to ashes, bone and dust.

But there was no world left to destroy. His world lay broken in his arms.

‘Jason...’ a voice called from somewhere behind him. Distant. Muffled beneath the rush of blood pounding in his ears. ‘Jason, we need to... ’

‘No.’

It came out hoarse, a ragged snarl carved from the wreckage of his throat. Hands were on him now, Dick’s, maybe Tim’s, he did not care, they tried to pry him away, tried to separate him from the only thing that mattered. He wrenched free, curling over her like a shield, as though if he were to hold her tightly enough, he could put her back together, force her into place, will her soul back beneath her skin.

He loved her.

And he had failed her.

Jason felt something unravel within him, something fragile and irreparable. The grief inside him was not humane. It was raw, feral, a grief that gnawed at the edges of reason, hollowing him out until only the cavern of what he had been remained.

‘Jason,’ Bruce said, he did not remember him arriving. Bruce was quieter than the others, as if his words would be enough to stop the sky from collapsing, as though it would be enough to salvage what had already been destroyed. ‘We need to bring her home.’

Home.

The word felt like a mockery. 

He swallowed back the scream rising in his chest. She was his home. His arms curled tighter around her, his forehead pressing against hers, his breath shuddering as it ghosted over her cooling lips. He wanted to wake up. He wanted to rewind time. This could not be real.

But there was no waking up from this.

Joker forced her from him in the same manner he had taken him from Bruce. And this time, Jason had been the one who arrived too late.

History had repeated itself.

And she had fallen victim to it.

He was still holding her hand.

It was cold now, sickly. She looked like stone under the low light of the cave, sculpted into something reverent, something holy. If he were any weaker, he might have prayed. But there was never a god in Gotham, only ghosts, only graves.

His grip tightened.

‘Jason,’ Dick had murmured from over the threshold. He had the tone of someone who knew he had already lost his battle but was too stubborn to walk away. ‘You need to rest.’

Jason did not answer. What was the point? None of them understood. Not Bruce, who had watched him succumb to the same fate, but had seemingly not suffered the same. Not Dick, who had watched on. Not Tim, not Damian. They had not been shattered and put back together wrong. They had all known loss, but none of them, none of them, had lost her.

They tried again, in softer voices. Even Alfred, placing a hesitant hand on his shoulder, spoke to him like a wounded animal. Jason did not move. He did not blink. He barely breathed.

They would not take her from him.

Eventually, they left him with her. Hours passed, or maybe minutes, or maybe lifetimes. He did not know. He just stayed, his thumb running absently over her knuckles, tracing circles into the skin. He should have been there sooner. He should have known. He should have...

Her fingers twitched.

Jason flinched, tearing his gaze from the blank, hollow of her face and down to their hands laying connected, both now dried crimson with her blood. The movement had been so slight he almost thought he had imagined it. His chest was hollowed out, a cavern scraped raw, and his mind was cracked wide with grief. He must have been seeing things.

Then it happened again.

Her breath hitched. Her shoulders jerked. A sharp inhale wrenched her back into her body, into the cage of her skin, into the cold and then to him.

Jason scrambled to his feet, the gurney rattling with the force of his pushing away. The world tilted, his stomach plummeting because this was not... this was not possible. His hands shook as he pulled away, as he stared down at her, heart hammering like a war drum in his ribs.

‘What... ’

‘Jason,’ she whispered, barely audible, as though she was speaking through water, through a fog, through the thousand miles that should exist between her and life.

He stumbled back. No, no, this was not... it could not...

She pushed herself up on her elbows, slow, deliberate, blinking the haze from her eyes. Her gaze swept the room before settling on him. He looked wrecked, as though he were unravelling at the seams.

‘I… I don’t... ’ he choked out, but his voice barely worked. ‘I held you. You weren’t breathing. You were dead.’

‘I was.’ Her voice was solemn, yielding. 

He took another step back, shaking his head, trying to force this into something he could make sense of. But there was no logic here, no reason. Only his own past being referenced before him.

She watched him for a moment. Then, gently, she reached for his hand.

‘Let me explain.’ Her voice was soft, pleading.

Jason moved, did not resist, just let himself be drawn back in. The contact burned through his clothes, through his skin, down to the bones that had once shattered against the Joker’s crowbar, just as hers had.

She exhaled, steadying herself, and then began.

‘I was seven the first time I died.’

Jason felt something splinter in him, he drew in a quick breath.

‘My father…’ she trailed off, lips pressing into a thin line. A flicker of something old and ruined crossed her face before she buried it again. ‘Though he didn’t mean it. He was by no means… kind. And he…’ 

She halted her words a muscle in her jaw twitching.

Jason’s fingers tightened in hers. His heart was still hammering, still trying to keep up with a reality that had seemingly stumbled sideways.

‘My… return shocked him.’ Jason did not like the implications behind her words, they made him sick, but he let her continue. 

‘He needed to know how I survived it; he hated the uncertainty. So he…’ She paused again, eerily composed. ‘...experimented. I always woke up. I always came back.’

Jason’s stomach twisted, nausea creeping up his throat like acid. This was too vile. Too raw. The thought of her helplessness, her fear, and the cycle of pain she had been subjected to was enough to debilitate him. The air suddenly tasted like metal, sharp and bitter, but it was nothing compared to the taste of rage searing through his veins. 

He stepped back and stood still, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails bit into his palms, but still, his breath remained steady, almost serene. The world around him felt muted, like a muffled beat, the edges of his vision fading to red with the sudden weight of this truth. He could not believe that someone meant to nurture and cherish her could cause her such anguish. Anger, raw and relentless, rose, it begged for vengeance. Wherever this foul man resides, he must pay; but not yet. 

He watched as she sat pouting, she was not happy that he had drawn himself away from her, so he stood forward once more and grabbed her still outstretched palms.

She quickly enveloped his hands, grounding him. ‘I was afraid to tell you,’ she admitted, sheepish. ‘I thought you might look at me differently.’

Jason let out a hollow, humourless laugh. ‘Differently?’

Her lips twitched, almost amused, almost sad. ‘I know it’s ironic, if anyone would understand, it was you. I know, it’s a lot.’

A lot. Right. That was one way to describe the phenomenon. All Jason knew was that his world had imploded, that the grief that had so recently shifted him into something unrecognisable, was chased away with relief coiled so tightly in his gut he thought he might shatter beneath it.

But all he did was drag her forward, arms closing around her so tightly he could not be sure where he ended and she began.

‘I was going to bury you,’ he rasped against her shoulder, shaking. ‘Bury you.’

‘I know,’ she whispered, fingers curling into the leather of his jacket. ‘I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner.’

He exhaled shakily, pressing his face into her hair, trying to anchor himself to the warmth of her; the solid weight of her in his arms. Alive. But the moment ended too soon as light flooded suddenly into the room. Jason and Y/N turned, eyes narrowing begrudgingly toward the interruption, only to be met with a group of gaping faces that stood shocked beyond the threshold.

Every comment and piece of advice is welcomed and appreciated <3 On a side note, the reader's ability to come back from the dead and the father's experimentation that then follows was inspired by a character from a different source material. I'm not going to say who because it is a spoiler for anyone who may end up watching the show, but I wonder if any of you picked up on the allusion.