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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
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.
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Incredibly OOC based on the fact that Jason would never go on a dancing competition, but I needed to write this out
The Wayne family needs PR. Too many situations involving Damien to where rumors are circulating and not focusing on just their amount of money anymore. So the answer is this, put Dick on Dancing with the Stars.
With the amount of views it has been getting from social media, it’s an easy answer for management.
Thing is, Dick will gladly join the competition, and with his agility will obviously win or get close to it- except his and Kori’s wedding is too close to the competition..
So guess whose forced to go on with no public persona already?
Jason.
Jason Todd, the Wayne that people rarely see, sometimes photographed at Wayne Galas, and in desperate need of PR.
And Jason will light the Wayne manor on fire if he has to do this, but Dick gets him to agree to go the first week. Meet his dance partner, and if he hates it they can always say he sprained an ankle or got kidnapped.
Jason was fully expecting to hate it, the moment he walked into the large dance room in sweats and a tanktop, until he saw his partner. The cameras are there to get an introduction, but he barely cares. All he notices is
How fragile and small you look.
No matter what you look like, Jason will think you are small compared to him. But as a dancer, even with your muscles from extreme training sessions, he knows he could throw you.
The pink ditzy looking activewear isn’t helping his imagination either.
#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd drabble#jason todd blurb#jason todd imagine#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x you#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x reader#jason todd#red hood x reader#red hood x you#red hood x fem!reader#red hood#batboys#batboys x reader
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Still thinking about this and how everything starts so normally, and yeah okay, you’re taken aback by how good looking he is. A little bit older, bright blue eyes looking you over with clinical professionalism, hands the size of dinner plates. You’re suddenly really embarrassed because you’re in the gown but you didn’t take your baby blue socks off and they look so silly capping off your unshaven legs.
“Nervous?” His smile is so handsome, so genuine, it puts you more at ease, and you nod.
“It’s not like I haven’t don’t this before,” you joke and he hums, a deep, rich timbre tumbling through your bones.
“Alright, go ahead and lay back, we’ll pull the end of the table out here,” the bottom slides forward, allowing your legs to lay comfortably. No stirrups, you guess. “You’re going to put your feet together, and then let your knees fall open,” you follow his instructions, letting your legs fall wide like a butterfly, and he smiles again, “just like that. Perfect.” Gloves snap at his wrists and rolls closer on the stool. “We’re going to do a pelvic exam first, okay? I’ll talk you through everything I’m doing.”
“Okay.” The ceiling has a painting on it. Monet water lilies. It’s tranquil, soothing.
“You’re going to feel my touch here,” the back of his hand brushes the inside of your thigh, “and then here,” Gloved fingers spread your labia, and your cheeks flood, heat washing through you. Two fingers push inside you upward, and your breath goes with it, drawing inward in a short burst. “Alright?”
“Yep.” You squeak. He places his palm over your lower belly and presses.
“Just feeling your uterus,” he murmurs, glancing over to you. Even on the table and him on the stool, he has leverage on you. “And now your ovaries,” there’s more palpating, pushing, and he peers down between your legs. “You’re doing great sweetheart.” Sweetheart? The thump of your heart rings in your ears.
“T-thanks.” He pulls back and tugs off his gloves, chucking them the trash. The silver tray rolls to the side of the table. You try not to look at the instruments, and warmth folds over your calf, thick thumb rubbing circles into your skin.
“I’m going to look at your cervix now, okay?” You nod, the sight of the speculum has sweat starting to bead along your spine. Once it’s in, the telltale clicking starts, the sound of being spread open, and you gulp as it becomes more and more uncomfortable. “I know, I know. I’ll try to be quick.” You’re staring at the lilies again, studying each stroke, each decision. So many small choices, perfect choices, coming together for a masterpiece. “Just try to relax, I know it’s uncomfortable. Breathe.” There’s more movement, some sort of wiggling, and your jaw tightens. “Doing okay?”
“Yeah.” Your voice is small, though it shouldn’t be. You’re an adult, you’ve had a lot of doctor’s visits, but every time, you get a little shaky.
“You have a perfect, healthy cervix.” He says, looking at you from between where your thighs are splayed open.
“Great,” you grit between clenched teeth as the speculum slides out of your body. Your instinct is to close your legs immediately, but he stops you with a gentle hand on your knee.
“Just one more thing,” a little plastic packet of medical grade lube rips open and then disappears from your view as he palms your mound, the l of his finger and thumb holding just above your clit. “Deep breath,” a slick finger circles your hole and then slides in. You offer no resistance, waiting for this last part to be over so you can finally get up and get out of this gown, still staring at the ceiling. “Stay nice and relaxed for me, good girl.” He strokes upward, grazing something that makes you squirm and gasp.
“I- I’m sorry.” You’re mortified, and he chuckles.
“It’s okay.” He grazes it again and you clench around his finger, panting. It feels… wrong, because it feels good, and you shouldn’t feel this way at your doctor’s appointment. “Does that feel okay?”
“Uhh…” he’s rocking his hand back and forth, pressing harder on that spot as his thumb slowly slips over your clit. Your toes curl where they’re pressed together, stomach clenching at the fluttering that’s building in your body. You push up onto your elbows as he stands, still working his hand against and inside your pussy. At full height, he has to lean at an angle to be inside you, but he still towers over the table. “Is this… should you b-be-“
“I’m your doctor honey, I need to take care of your body. It’s alright now, just lay back.” You take the command like a puppy, slobbering and eager, nerve endings smashing together into a jumble of pleasure. He works your clit, brushing against that soft spot inside you, and your legs start to tremble, your chest heaving.
“Oh, ah- I…” it’s hard to reconcile what’s happening, that you might come, on your doctor, with your doctor, and you feel like you’re floating, gone off somewhere else.
“You’re doing so good. Just let it come, that’s it…” You’re on fire, rapidly climbing to the top of the mountain, scrambling up a scree laced slope, clenching around your doctor’s finger, pushing yourself against his ministrations on your clit. It’s too much, way too much, and you start to whine, fingers digging into the leather. “It’s going to be big, isn’t it? I know, all those butterflies are going crazy in your belly.” Your hips are starting to jerk, and you stare at him with wide doe eyes, half glazed over.
“I c-can’t…” what the fuck are you doing?
“Yes you can, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” Your clit is throbbing, gown shoved well past your hips, and he steps closer, tendons in his forearm flexing as he pushes you towards an explosion. You’re squeezing so tight now, rattling on crinkling paper, wet slick of your pussy crying on his hand.
It slams into you, cold water in your lungs, back bowing off the table. “There it is- oh that’s it honey, there you go. That feels better, doesn’t it?” You ride it out with your eyes rolled into the back of your head, falling to pieces as he wrings every last drop from your body. “Did so good,” He kisses your knee where it’s been drawn up against his forearm, finger still inside you, “such a good girl.” You mewl, lost somewhere in space, drifting away and into the clouds.
You’re still floating when the sound of his zipper echoes in the room.
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Incredibly OOC based on the fact that Jason would never go on a dancing competition, but I needed to write this out
The Wayne family needs PR. Too many situations involving Damien to where rumors are circulating and not focusing on just their amount of money anymore. So the answer is this, put Dick on Dancing with the Stars.
With the amount of views it has been getting from social media, it’s an easy answer for management.
Thing is, Dick will gladly join the competition, and with his agility will obviously win or get close to it- except his and Kori’s wedding is too close to the competition..
So guess whose forced to go on with no public persona already?
Jason.
Jason Todd, the Wayne that people rarely see, sometimes photographed at Wayne Galas, and in desperate need of PR.
And Jason will light the Wayne manor on fire if he has to do this, but Dick gets him to agree to go the first week. Meet his dance partner, and if he hates it they can always say he sprained an ankle or got kidnapped.
Jason was fully expecting to hate it, the moment he walked into the large dance room in sweats and a tanktop, until he saw his partner. The cameras are there to get an introduction, but he barely cares. All he notices is
How fragile and small you look.
No matter what you look like, Jason will think you are small compared to him. But as a dancer, even with your muscles from extreme training sessions, he knows he could throw you.
The pink ditzy looking activewear isn’t helping his imagination either.
#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x reader#jason todd#jason todd x you#jason todd x y/n#jason todd imagine#jason todd blurb#jason todd drabble#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd fic#jason todd headcanon#reader insert#x reader#red hood x fem!reader#red hood x you#red hood x reader#dc comics x reader#batboys x reader#batboys#dc universe
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Jason has a life-sized cutout of Bruce Wayne in his apartment, and he argues with it a hell of a lot. When Dick dropped by one day and saw it, Jason convinced him of how cathartic it was. Dick brushed him off, telling him to find healthier coping mechanisms, only to go out and get one of his own.
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Honestly, just scrolling through TikTok, saw the template and thought “what the hell” 😂
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Thinking about retired Price with a younger reader who has a high sex drive. He can't keep up as well as he used to, but it's fine. Once a week his boys come over, you cook them a lovely homecooked meal, and they take turns fucking you five ways to Sunday while their captain lazily lifts a lit cigar to his mouth and watches as you moan around Kyle's cock and Johnny and Simon take turns dumping thick loads inside your needy pussy.
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there’s no way someone’s already tryna steal my whole idea :(
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tw!! talk and show of pill addiction.
Do you want to be a part of the tag list? Add yourself to the doc!
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-A756u-0PdmBkb7qv8wzsCYWRKwdeICoUvSlrfOYzW4/edit
You stared at the bag of pills Anna’s friend had given you.
Nightmares had started to haunt you. Worse than before Arkham. Your evidence, having not seen it physically in years, suddenly filled your mind at every turn.
Nightly, you’d throw up into a pail that they had given you. Obviously, seeing a nurse wasn’t an option in Arkham, especially with the low staff count. And you wouldn’t even try to meet with your new physiatrist.
You realized that after more of the guards were fired, breakouts happened more often. Of course, they were more on the lower levels. Villains that had already escaped before.
You didn’t attempt to break out because one, you were not strong enough. Whether that was the point or not, Arkhams food didn’t supply you a great deal of protein.
Two, because you didn’t know where you’d go. You couldn’t leave Gotham, not if Jason came back. But you also knew Bruce would find you instantly, so it wasn’t an option.
Plus, with the fear has supposedly breaking out in places, you didn’t want to be in the streets of Gotham exactly.
Fuck, where were you? Right, the pills.
You think you’ve gotten addicted. You cant sleep without them, cant go through Arkhams day without them, and you classify that as maybe addiction.
You’d have to get off of them before Jason comes back. If he knew..
You didn’t want to disappoint him the moment he steps back into Gotham.
A loud bang of metal on metal makes you grab your baggie and shove them in your sweatsuit. Anna had slid your door open, grinning ear to ear.
“Me and Steph are gettin’ out.” She said, showing her baton she had stolen, waving it around. “You comin?”
You shook your head. You had gotten invitations like this all week.
“I’m waiting for someone.” You mumble. Anna scrunches her nose and points the baton at you.
“No man is worth stayin’ here, Reader.” She says. Noticing you staying on your bed, she sighs and lowers the baton. “Thanks for the baked goods, neighbor.”
She’s off down the hallway before you can even look.
An explosion sounding noise wakes you up.
The ground thumped under you. Your bare feet could feel the vibrations of many footsteps. Suddenly, your pills look more and more appetizing.
You walk to your window, before looking for something to stand on. You quickly grab the bottom of your night table and pull it over to the window with a grunt.
You step up onto the nightstand, and balancing on it, you peer over the stone bricks and look through the metal bars.
Prisoners left and right are practically rushing out of Arkham. You assume a large hole had been blown in, since you don’t remember an exit being there.
In the middle of the rushing crowd of patients, you notice red wearing men directing them. Most of the patients don’t listen, but some follow the orders.
That’s when you see him.
The iron man. The metal man. Robotic man? No, Knight man.
Fuck, these pills were making you crazy.
All you could think of is Anna telling you something about the new villain in Gotham.
You peer closer, trying to get a better view, but the metal bars stop you from looking out too much.
Whoever the man was, clearly held power over the red wearing men. He directed them angrily, and if you weren’t drugged out of your mind, you’d question why he’s at Arkham.
Until the man, without warning- looks up at your window, his mask staring directly at you.
“What the fu-“
Your ass hits the floor as you fall backwards, having lost your balance by the man’s contact.
You scramble to your feet and quickly try to move the nightstand back in the spot, before climbing onto it and looking out the window again.
The man’s gone- yet the red wearing men are still adamantly ordering around the patients.
You sigh of relief, telling yourself the man didn’t actually see you staring directly at him. You get off the nightstand, shivering when you feel your feet touch the cold floor. You grab a baguette to arm yourself, and walk over to the door, sliding it open.
It was left unlocked the day before, when Anna had broken out it seems.
You scrunch your nose and slide it back closed, trying to lock it, when a much stronger hand rips the door open.
You practically stumble back from the strength, your arm sore from being pulled along with the door. You take a couple steps back before remembering what you were holding and aiming it at the doorway.
“Don’t- don’t come in! I have a weapon.. and.. i’m not afraid to lose it!”
Jeez, did you slur that much yesterday?
You wince when loud, incredibly loud footsteps walk in, and you close your eyes, bracing for impact- or for something.
“Jesus-“ A click, and a hissing is heard. A loud slam of metal against your floor makes you flinch, your body jolting at the noise and vibration. You open your eyes, ready to threaten the stranger-
“Jason?”
#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x reader angst#jason todd x reader#jason todd#arkham knight x reader#batfamily#arkham knight
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Anon is so right Id love
For dick to realize how much he fucked up and try to reconnect with reader. Is Jason going to allow it? Will reader allow it? Is dick going to confront Bruce?
Will Bruce realize he fucked up?!
Augh I love this dick so much ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
imagine dick realizing reader was right all along? he will practically feel like he’d been gaslighting her without gaslighting her
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GOD IM FUCKING OBSESSED HOLY SHIT
god i wanna see reader get so fucked up and see dick have the horrid realization of what’s been done to her and how its their fault…god the way yoylu write has me frothinggg at the mouth. like i love dick dont get me wrong but yoi write him in a way that characterizes him so well in the story i just need to see him suffer i hate him but i love it GAH💕💕💕
my first anon omg- thank you!!!!
i love dick… he’s trying to be mature but doesn’t know how to deal with reader without overstepping jason’s territory
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tw!! talk and show of pill addiction.
Do you want to be a part of the tag list? Add yourself to the doc!
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-A756u-0PdmBkb7qv8wzsCYWRKwdeICoUvSlrfOYzW4/edit
You stared at the bag of pills Anna’s friend had given you.
Nightmares had started to haunt you. Worse than before Arkham. Your evidence, having not seen it physically in years, suddenly filled your mind at every turn.
Nightly, you’d throw up into a pail that they had given you. Obviously, seeing a nurse wasn’t an option in Arkham, especially with the low staff count. And you wouldn’t even try to meet with your new physiatrist.
You realized that after more of the guards were fired, breakouts happened more often. Of course, they were more on the lower levels. Villains that had already escaped before.
You didn’t attempt to break out because one, you were not strong enough. Whether that was the point or not, Arkhams food didn’t supply you a great deal of protein.
Two, because you didn’t know where you’d go. You couldn’t leave Gotham, not if Jason came back. But you also knew Bruce would find you instantly, so it wasn’t an option.
Plus, with the fear has supposedly breaking out in places, you didn’t want to be in the streets of Gotham exactly.
Fuck, where were you? Right, the pills.
You think you’ve gotten addicted. You cant sleep without them, cant go through Arkhams day without them, and you classify that as maybe addiction.
You’d have to get off of them before Jason comes back. If he knew..
You didn’t want to disappoint him the moment he steps back into Gotham.
A loud bang of metal on metal makes you grab your baggie and shove them in your sweatsuit. Anna had slid your door open, grinning ear to ear.
“Me and Steph are gettin’ out.” She said, showing her baton she had stolen, waving it around. “You comin?”
You shook your head. You had gotten invitations like this all week.
“I’m waiting for someone.” You mumble. Anna scrunches her nose and points the baton at you.
“No man is worth stayin’ here, Reader.” She says. Noticing you staying on your bed, she sighs and lowers the baton. “Thanks for the baked goods, neighbor.”
She’s off down the hallway before you can even look.
An explosion sounding noise wakes you up.
The ground thumped under you. Your bare feet could feel the vibrations of many footsteps. Suddenly, your pills look more and more appetizing.
You walk to your window, before looking for something to stand on. You quickly grab the bottom of your night table and pull it over to the window with a grunt.
You step up onto the nightstand, and balancing on it, you peer over the stone bricks and look through the metal bars.
Prisoners left and right are practically rushing out of Arkham. You assume a large hole had been blown in, since you don’t remember an exit being there.
In the middle of the rushing crowd of patients, you notice red wearing men directing them. Most of the patients don’t listen, but some follow the orders.
That’s when you see him.
The iron man. The metal man. Robotic man? No, Knight man.
Fuck, these pills were making you crazy.
All you could think of is Anna telling you something about the new villain in Gotham.
You peer closer, trying to get a better view, but the metal bars stop you from looking out too much.
Whoever the man was, clearly held power over the red wearing men. He directed them angrily, and if you weren’t drugged out of your mind, you’d question why he’s at Arkham.
Until the man, without warning- looks up at your window, his mask staring directly at you.
“What the fu-“
Your ass hits the floor as you fall backwards, having lost your balance by the man’s contact.
You scramble to your feet and quickly try to move the nightstand back in the spot, before climbing onto it and looking out the window again.
The man’s gone- yet the red wearing men are still adamantly ordering around the patients.
You sigh of relief, telling yourself the man didn’t actually see you staring directly at him. You get off the nightstand, shivering when you feel your feet touch the cold floor. You grab a baguette to arm yourself, and walk over to the door, sliding it open.
It was left unlocked the day before, when Anna had broken out it seems.
You scrunch your nose and slide it back closed, trying to lock it, when a much stronger hand rips the door open.
You practically stumble back from the strength, your arm sore from being pulled along with the door. You take a couple steps back before remembering what you were holding and aiming it at the doorway.
“Don’t- don’t come in! I have a weapon.. and.. i’m not afraid to lose it!”
Jeez, did you slur that much yesterday?
You wince when loud, incredibly loud footsteps walk in, and you close your eyes, bracing for impact- or for something.
“Jesus-“ A click, and a hissing is heard. A loud slam of metal against your floor makes you flinch, your body jolting at the noise and vibration. You open your eyes, ready to threaten the stranger-
“Jason?”
#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x reader angst#jason todd x reader#arkham knight x reader#arkham knight#jason todd
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y’all i have 14 more hours to watch of Arkham knight gameplay so i can try to write the story and make it make sense
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i need moots who are obsessed with dc
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3
tw!! talk of sa
I know Arkham Knight happened in one night, but i’m spreading it out slightly for the sake of the story.
You suddenly understood why every woman in Arkham looked numb.
As you walked out of Jefferson’s office, you didn’t flinch at the yelling from the office next door, as you usually would. You walked past the group of patients that would make obscene comments about you.
You found yourself in your room, staring blankly at the white peeling wall.
You wanted Jason. You wanted him to find you, to find out what happened. You wanted him to hurt Jefferson, the same way you’ve watched him in his Robin suit hurt men that have touched you.
You grab your pillow, and scream into it, possibly annoying other patients but you didn’t care. All you wanted was for it to get out.
The small visiting room seemed smaller when Dick Grayson was in it.
You looked at the crayons on the table, breaking them in half as Dick spoke to you.
“He’s being investigated.” Dick says quietly, choosing not to sit on the only couch, not wanting to intrude. “But with the luck people have had with Arkhams staff..”
Dick sighs and leans back against the wall, looking at you. “Until he’s gone, we’ve had them switch out your psychiatrist.”
His words make you look up.
“You mean- this wasn’t enough to get me out of here?” You say stiffly, your hands trembling around the broken crayons. “So what, your just going to trust another fucked up staff member? He fucking assaulted me Dick!” Your voice gets higher throughout the sentence.
“We didn’t know an assistant was taking over, Reader. They didn’t tell anything to us about it. We would have- we would have investigated him before he ever came close to talking to you.”
You snort. “Like that makes a difference for me to know that?”
Dicks fists clench. You knew he wasn’t angry at you, he was angry at himself. Mostly Bruce, who hasn’t spoken to you once since he put you in Arkham. Although, you know he’s still a part of it, as you get sent gift baskets from Alfred weekly.
“This.. this is the best place for you right now.” Dick says, exhaustion seeping into his words. He doesn’t sound like he believes it, either.
“I hate you.” You whisper harshly, rubbing the crayons against the table.
“I know.”
The first sign you realized something was wrong, was when security lessened in Arkham.
Staff members were getting fired left and right. You assume it was Bruce, finally taking charge of Arkham and firing all of the twisted staff.
You walked down one of the catwalks, walking down the stairs to look at the lunch tables, driving where to sit, when you heard the television.
“Man charged with biting someone-“ Normal. “In a laundry unit after victim heard him screaming at himself.”
Zombie apocalypse? Gothams probably already had one.
You shake your head and walk over to one of the corner tables, sliding into the seat and setting your tray on the table. A woman sits down across from you, but pays no attention as she keeps to herself.
You stuff the slop into your mouth, because as much as you hated the food, you wanted to look like yourself when Jason came back.
If.
When.
Fuck.
You slam the tray of slop, on the edge of the table, making it fly off the table and onto the ground. The woman’s cross from you flinches but doesn’t react.
You can’t believe that your losing the idea that Jason’s alive. Maybe Jefferson fucked you up more than you thought.
“Oh shit- look how fucked up the guy looks!”
Your gaze moves to the television, where they show the victim of the biting man. Your eyebrows furrow are the image. *Is that allowed on the news*?
“Fuck- imagine being known as the guy who bit someone.”
“Carol, you used to eat your victims hair.”
You scrunch your nose and focus on the television instead of the patients conversations.
The second time you realized something was different, was when they shut off the news in the rec rooms.
You checked with the male block, and one had informed you that theirs was shut off too.
Gothams news was something people were used to. What was so horrific, that they wouldn’t show Arkhams patients?
With the lessening staff, you noticed more and more fights break out. It felt different than the years you’ve been here. There wasn’t the threat of a nurse with a syringe behind you at every problem.
You’ve started tying your doorknob to your bed frame just in case.
At night, you felt your bed frame jiggling. You bolted upright to see your neighbor trying to open the door, and you quickly walked over.
Visiting has gotten usual with her, since her guard had gotten fired.
You let her in before shutting the door behind her, and turn to face her. “What?”
She, Anna, looks at you with a grin. “They’ve given him a name.”
You look at her weirdly before walking over to your bed and sitting down. “Who?”
“The guy whose been dropping fear gas everywhere. Didn’t you hear Steph talking about it?”
Steph- a patient whose boyfriend works as a journalist.
“No- I barely talk to her.” You mumble, watching as Anna walks over to your dresser and grabs a baked good from the gift basket. “So a guy has been behind these weird attacks?”
Anna nods, her lips pursed together as she chooses form your stash. “Apparently no one can find anything out about him. Only knows he’s working with Scarecrow. Do you like these?” She holds up a blueberry muffin and you wave her off to take it. “So he like- calls himself the Arkham Knight. Or at least, that’s what Stephs boyfriend said.”
You snort. “Wonder who he’s after.”
Anna nods, raising her eyebrows sarcastically. “Yet he’s the first villain to name himself after Batman. If I had the money to become a high class villain, that would’ve been my first idea.”
You watch as she bites into one of the muffins. “No one’s as smart as you, Anna.” You say, sarcastically, but she doesn’t ever notice that.
You look at the barred window in your room, and get up, walking over to it. Only the tips of your fingertips can reach it, so all your able to see is the top of a tree growing next to Arkham.
“Arkham Knight.” You mumble to yourself. “Let’s hope your different than the others.”
#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x reader angst#jason todd x reader#jason todd#arkham knight x reader#arkham knight
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2
tw! sa undertones
P3
If you thought you felt crazy thinking that Jason was alive before, you felt ten times crazier in Arkham.
The place wasn’t built for crazy people, it was built to keep them inside. Away from the high end galas and family members who were ashamed of them. A place where Batman could put villains that were too much trouble for the GCPD.
You fit into those catagories perfectly.
Dick wasn’t lying, Bruce had gotten you the suite. The suite in Arkham. You had assumed your room might be better than the ones the Joker would’ve had. Or any other villain that’s escaped from here.
Escaped. Maybe that’s why Bruce put you in a suite.
Through unpacking, they didn’t slow you to bring in any of Jason’s items. His sweatshirt, his favorite books, even the paper band from your first concert together.
Because it would trigger your attacks.
You had punched the guards nose as they carried you out from holding.
What you had to give to Arkham, was they kept to a schedule. The point of it seemed to make everyone more crazy. Therapy was interrogating, Lunch was slop, and visiting hours… was just Dick.
You’re least favorite time of Arkham was Rec. They’d put you and the other high class young women in the same room, and expected no fights to happen. Sometimes, they’d mix the genders so there would be fights.
You learned quickly to keep to yourself and not tell anyone anything. You could practically hear Jason saying “Snitches don’t get stitches. They go missin’ in Gotham.”
Jason. Jason Todd. The boy who called you birdie. Your first everything. His red tank tops and his boyish smirk, his arm covered in friendship bracelets you’d make while he was on patrol-
“Reader?”
You look up from the table and avoid looking at the couple practically shagging in the corner, to focus on the man with a clipboard, looking around the room.
You were new, but he seemed newer.
“Here.” You mumble, getting up and walking past a small group of men who eye you in your sweatsuit.
You meet the man at the gate locking in the rec room, and meet his gaze blankly.
“You’re Reader? Right, I’m Jefferson, the new assistant to Doctor Jane.” The man says softly, yet clearly trying to be.. intimidating? “I’m taking over her clients while she’s on break after the.. incident.”
The incident. A woman had snuck a metal pipe into her meeting last week.
“Right.”
Jefferson clears his throat and smiles warmly at you, an expression not hardened yet by Arkham. “Follow me, please.”
Jefferson met with you two times a week. The first weeks were rough, since you had expected Jefferson to be the same as everyone else. To instantly deny your truth.
But he listened. He listened to your ideas, and your proof. You think he would’ve even looked at your evidence, if you were allowed to bring it in.
Sometimes, although it wasn’t allowed, he’d bring you a coffee. One from a diner on his way to Arkham.
You had questioned another woman in your cell block about if Jefferson bought everyone coffee on tuesdays. That question earned you a right hook, due to being a favorite.
You were laying in your room, staring at the top of your bed frame, fidgeting with your hands. Every night, you’d memorize Jason’s face. Especially when you weren’t allowed to have pictures of him here, you couldn’t forget his features.
You didn’t want to forget his face, in case he walked right by you.
With as much money Arkham gets from supporters and investors, the walls were paper thin. You could hear the rustling of your next door neighbor, as her secret escapades with one of the guards weren’t secret to you.
Below, you could hear pounding, most likely one of the women who was given a punching bad to ease her anger.
Your body trembled from the cold, but it wasn’t just from Arkhams shivering tempature. You had gotten used to Jason sneaking in, warming you up after his patrol. His ego boosting from his smirk as he told you about the goons he had taken down during the night.
He was so proud to be Robin. More people should’ve been proud of him for it.
You don’t realize your sobbing until the thumping next door stops, and your use of their white noise draws you out of it.
What, did your crying turn them off?
You hear rustling, before the guard walks out of her cell and up to yours. Unlocking the door, she peers in at you.
“You miss your dose of somethin’?”
You furrow your eyebrows. You knew most patients here took doses of things, but naively you assumed it was for their mental illnesses.
“For what?”
“For sleepin’. Almost everyone here gets some.” The guard says. “Leaves us less to deal with at night.”
At least she was honest.
You think for a moment, or not at all, before replying.
“Yeah. I take those.”
The pills make time in Arkham fly by.
You realize it’s why most of the patients take then. If you didn’t look at Jeffersons calendar every meeting, you’d understand why most of these people go crazy.
Jason would knee you in the vagina if he knew what you were doing. But he’s understand. Atleast, that’s what you tell yourself.
You’ve noticed one thing about Arkham, the prosedures.
Shock therapy. You wouldnt beleive it still existed, if you hadn’t seen the marks on the women at your lunch table. You had realized they hadn’t done it to you, because Dick or Bruce must be too involved with your care. Plus, Bruce could figure out anything that happened to you, as long as he was interested.
You hope that being his sons girlfriend will be enough for him to care about you for as long as your in here.
Jefferson’s office smelled good. Different than usual. You realized why when you saw a candle on his desk.
“Reader, come on in.” Jefferson says from his desk, scrubbing on his papers. “Sorry for the mess, some of the patients here have no knowledge for manners.”
He looked at you and gestures for you to sit in the chair across his desk like usual. You did as he said, and he seemed to always relax at your obedience.
“I heard we had a setback earlier this week.” Jefferson starts. “Randy told me she heard you talking to..” He checks his papers. “Jason, in your room.”
“I wasn’t talking to him.” You mutter. “I was talking about him. To myself.”
Jefferson clears his throat and nods. “Right. Well, we do know that a main reason your here is for your.. obsession to this case.”
He slides over a cup of coffee for you, which you take, tkaing a sip.
“Reader, you know that I am supportive of your ideas about this Jason. Regardless, any way out of Arkham is proving the fact that you aren’t, focused on what happened to him.”
Jefferson gets up from his desk and walks around it, sitting on the edge and looking down at you as you sip your coffee.
His lips twitch. “Good, right?” He says quietly, watching you. You nod, and he starts. “I don’t think you should be here. You aren’t like these other women. They have tarnished themselves. But you..” He draws off, reaching out to gently take the coffee from you.
Your lips were practically still on the container as he pulls it back to himself, making you look up at him in confusion. He brings the cup to his lips and takes a sip. He makes a noise as the coffee hits his tongue before looking at you. “I’m the only one that listens to you in here.” He says quietly. “I think you know that. And if what your saying is true, I want you to be able to get out of here and prove everyone wrong.”
He leans in, meeting your gaze. “I can sign you off and have you out of here after evaluation, but after all those treats i’ve given you, I think I deserve some of my own. Don’t you?”
#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x reader angst#jason todd x reader#jason todd#arkham knight x reader#arkham knight
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1
If someone told you years ago that you’d be watching Jason’s older brother bail you out of the station, you would’ve laughed at them.
Yet now, as you watch Dicks hands scribble his signiture onto paper with Gordon standing behind the desk, the disappointment from him was enough to prove this was reality.
“She’s been here five times this week, Grayson.” Gordan says, his arms crossed. He very rarely handles personal situations, but anyone surrounding Jason Todd’s death was personal to him.
“I know. My father does too.” Dick says, sliding Gordan the signed sheet. “We’re working on it.”
“Working on it? I’ve had to up my patrol on the morgue because of one girl, Richard.” Gordan speaks sternly. “You might be working on it, but she ain’t.”
Dick sighs, looking at his rings before looking up from the paperwork and at Gordan. His bangs poked his eyelids before he brushed them back. “She’s had a rough time, Gordan. Talk to my father about it.”
With that- Dick looks over at you, who was sitting on one of the benches in the middle of the station. He walks over before picking up your backpack and swinging it over his shoulder. “Let’s get some food in you, yeah?”
You could tell he was pushing the situation away, whether it was because he wanted to talk about it, or worried that you wouldn’t.
“Okay.” You mumble, getting up and following Dick out the door. The cold air of Gotham brushes past you instantly, as two women rush past you to get inside the station.
Dick looks for his car, having forgotten what his newest one looks like, before walking forward after spotting it.
You watch the blonde woman set down your milkshake on your table, along with Dicks Coke. Dick offers the woman a playboy smile before she walks off and he turns back to you.
“This will look bad in Bruce’s eyes.” Dick says, not even taking a sip from his soda. “I told you, I didn’t want him to feel backed into a. corner to do something.. drastic.”
You furrow your brows at Dicks choice of words and look up from your shake. “I wouldn’t have to keep doing things like this if he would just listen to me-“
“Jason was his son, Reader. I get that you saw them fight a lot before his death, but Bruce looked into everything-
“He’s not dead!” You yell, slamming your fist on the table. The diner patrons look over to see the commotion, before going back to their own conversations.
Dick fidgets with the napkin, rubbing his thumb against it as he tries to figure out how to say what he wants to say.
“I warned you that Bruce.. he’s worried about you.” Dick says quietly. “I’m worried about you. Jason- he wouldn’t want you doing this to yourself.”
You felt your bottom lip trembling, knowing Dick would say something else that proved he didn’t believe you.
But whenever he spoke of Jason, you had the tiniest feeling. What if you were wrong? What if Jason’s looking down at you, disgusted with how your treating yourself?
“He’s alive, Dick.” You whisper, your fingers clenching around the glass. “I can feel it. I can feel him.”
You could practically feel yourself pushing Dicks last button, and you watched him grab his black cases phone.
“You knew this would happen, Reader.” Dick said, clearly exhausted from the situation. “I just hope you realize how much I tried to make this not happen.”
“You’re fucking kidding.”
You looked up at the menacing building, your hands practically trembling with either fear or anger. You heard the scuffle of your luggage hitting the concrete as Dick pulls it out of his trunk.
“I told you, Bruce was going to be drastic if you acted up again.” Dick says, clearly feeling guilty under the shadows of Arkham.
“Fuck me that I didn’t expect him to send me to Arkham, Dick!” I yell, motioning at the building. “This isn’t- this isn’t the answer. How will I continue my search if I’m stuck here?”
“That’s the point.” Dick says, setting your luggage next to you. “You don’t.”
I glare at Dick before looking back at the building. “Bruce doesn’t understand. If he would just look at what I have to far he’s see it’s not making sense.” Your sentence almost loses energy as you realize Dicks blocking you out.
“Jason wouldn’t want this.” I whisper.
“Maybe he would, if he had to hear all of this himself.”
You instantly go quiet, your fists clenching. He insulted you in Jasons name.
In a moment, your fist reaches five inches before Dick grabs it, twisting it behind you and locking you in his grip.
“Come on, Birdie.” He says quietly, exhaustion seeping into his tone. “Bruce got you the suite.”
P2
#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x reader angst#jason todd x reader#jason todd#arkham knight x reader#arkham knight
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