#bruce wayne (mentioned) :P

[armed-with-a-waffle-iron]

Dick, Tim and Alfred Spending Time Together (After Bruce’s “Death”)

It’s one of those moments where everything and nothing are happening at the same time. No words are said but none have to be. Everyone is in-tuned with each other, with the moment, and yet lost within themselves. When loved ones can seem like strangers but are more family to you than they could ever be.

Nightwing #151

[nonaonann]

You ever think Dick goes around to the Dick's Sporting Goods stores, dressed as an employee and everything, pretending to be like some higher-up visiting locations for inspections just to see how long he can get away with it. Like, how are you gonna tell someone named Dick to get out of Dick's store? The people love him. They love going, "Oh, your name's Dick? Haha, like the store! It's like you were made for a job here—or, haha, named."

He probably does this outside of Gotham before he's like, it's been five years, time to go visit, and then the Gotham news tabloids and channels are exploding with, "Dick Grayson, Son of Billionaire and Philaptoyhch Bruce Wayne, Invading Dick's Sporting Goods Across the East Coast" and "Dick's Sporting Goods' Surprising Employee the First Son of Billionare and Philadelphia Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson" and, "Beloved Dickie Grayson is a Dick's Sporting Goods Employee," and so on and so on.

[batsycline69]

Full

Summary: You find out Bruce keeps closer track of your menstrual cycle than you thought. You also find out why.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x reader

Words: 4.8k

Content/warnings: description of scars, baby fever, established relationship, thigh riding, strength kink if you squint, mentions of having children/getting pregnant, breeding kink, p in v sex

“Are you kidding me?”

The sounds of wings rustle above head as your voice carries through the Batcave. Your arms are crossed tightly over your chest as you glare at Bruce. On the monitor of the bat computer, over a year’s worth of your menstrual cycle is displayed, carefully cataloged by your husband.

When Bruce came back from patrol, you gave him some time to clean up, hoping to pull him away from work. You’d mentioned seeing the cutest baby while you were out for coffee this morning, to which he replied, “is this because you’re ovulating?” To which you replied, “excuse me?”

Bruce took only a few seconds to pull up his records; little black boxes around the days you’ve had foul moods all courtesy of your luteal phase, little red boxes around your period weeks. He has little ciphers on certain days, and you suspect he’s logged the days you’ve had sex.

His expression hasn’t changed a bit despite your reaction. He’s still just as serious and unreadable as ever.

“We have sex. It’s smart to track.”

“It’s invasive! You could have at least told me you were doing this.”

“Do you keep track?” he asks pointedly.

You scowl at him. “What does that have to do with this?”

“How soon would you know if you missed a period?” He sounds smug without changing his tone; it’s one of his many astounding abilities. You hate that he’s made a good point, even if it doesn’t fully justify his prying. Then again, you were fully aware of Bruce’s endeavors as Batman when you got married. Prying came with the territory.

“I don’t know. A week or two. It’s not always that exact. But it’s not like I wouldn’t notice.” You bristle at the minuscule movement of Bruce’s eyebrow as it quirks up. To think you’d come down here to fuck him. “Point being, I don’t need you to keep track of my body. I’m perfectly capable.”

He stands up from his chair, taking a step towards you. Silence. You hate how well Bruce does silence, hate the way he weaponizes it against you. But you’re not backing down. Not until he expresses some sort of awareness that he went too far.

The look in his eyes tells you not to hold your breath. He still looks just as serious as ever, yet a slight change of the glimmer in his eyes suggests he’s arriving at his point. He steps within arms’ reach. You have a feeling leaving just enough space is part of his plan. He’s upping the anticipation. But he’s going to have to try harder than that.

“If I came in you tonight, you could end up carrying my baby.” His voice rumbles in his chest, eyes unwavering.

Fuck.

You feel your face get hot, still trying to keep your composure. He wants a reaction—manipulative asshole—but you’re not going to give him the satisfaction. He’s not going to change the subject just like that.

“Thanks, Batman, but I know how ovulation works,” you snap, turning over your shoulder. You’re not making any progress, and even if Bruce’s proposal has you feeling that familiar ache inside of you again, you can’t let him win now. You only stop when he catches your arm with his sturdy hand.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks. You’ve never been out with him while he’s doing his Batman business—that’s his world, not yours—but you imagine this is how he treats his prey when he knows they don’t stand a chance. A cocky air without being showy. He doesn’t need to prove he could take you down in an instant; you already know it’s true.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Back upstairs.”

“I thought you came down here for something,” he replies, voice smooth. He tugs you so you’re at his side. He’s not gentle about it, but the movement is controlled.

“Yeah, well that was before I found out about your little project.”

His hand slides down your arm before running up your shirt, stopping at your waist. You shiver from the cold cave air that brushes your skin. “It’s practical,” Bruce says.

“Practical.” You scoff.

But then again, Alfred does always make your favorite cookies around the time the boxes are shaded in gray. There are also those days when Bruce is a little more willing to follow you when you entice him out of the cave.

Even if you weren’t expecting this turn of events, the more you mull it over, the more it begins to click. Dick’s been out west for months now, leaving Wayne Manor feeling emptier than ever. Bruce has been burying himself in work to make up for the loss, not that he’s admitted that to you. He probably hasn’t even admitted it to himself.

You narrow your eyes a little more at him. “Is this a thing for you or something?”

He smirks. You hate it when he smirks like that. Except you don’t, not really, because he looks so good when hes smug. That’s the worst part. As you stare back at him, unwavering, you curse his stupidly handsome face. A guy that gets beat up every night shouldn’t look that good. It’s just not fair.

“What if it is?” he asks, pompous attitude lingering.

His voice is low, using his ability to have all the control in a conversation all while hardly speaking above a whisper. He knows he has your attention. Knows his words are having an effect on you. Warmth pools back into your core, familiar ache between your legs. You remember why you came down here to begin with. His gaze is bright. Hungry. Fixed on you.

God, are you and Bruce going to have to talk about kids? It’s not like you’ve never noticed the way his eyes soften whenever there’s a baby around. He loves kids. But he doesn’t have a night life conducive to having a child.

But he’s keeping track of your cycle, so I guess how surprised can you be, really? Alfred’s cookies are a nice perk, but he’s three steps ahead of you. He’s thinking about the future like always. And apparently that future has babies.

“Then...that’s a conversation we could have,” you reply, quirking an eyebrow up at him.

“Some other time,” Bruce murmurs, his breath brushing against your lips. In other words, hes already thought about it and has a plan.

He wraps his arm around your waist beneath your shirt, drawing you close. His chest presses up against your crossed arms, unconcerned with your attitude towards him. He isn’t actually smirking, but his eyes give it away, which means he wants them to give it away.

Water rushes from the falls across the cave, dropping down to the pool of water at the bottom. The air is cool and smells like wet rock. Your familiarity of the space hasn’t made it any less dark or cold, but the foreboding nature had dwindled. You grew to associate it with a young boy’s laughter, listening to it mature over time. You think of how many nights you’ve sat up, huddled beneath a blanket, waiting for Bruce to come back home among the stalactites. You think of messy arguments and fights and of family.

The glow of Bruce’s monitor lights up only half his face. He looks tired, though you couldn’t be able to say so without him shutting down the conversation entirely. But the exhaustion he won’t admit to doesn’t change the fact that he’s probably picturing you with his cock buried all the way inside you.

He doesn’t say a word as his head dips to meet your lips softly. His hands, calloused by the years of his mission, hold you like an ever-present reminder of why he does what he does. His touch is reverent, large hands splayed out across your sides.

Despite the hunger in his gaze, he takes his time with you. Lips capturing yours with expert precision, as he approaches all things. It isn’t long before Bruce whisks you off to the bedroom. Expensive, luxurious cotton surrounds you, contrasting with Bruce’s rough hands as they run up the length of your bare skin. His lips trail the length of your neck, hands devouring the surfaces of your curves. It’s not often you manage to capture his attention so completely, but god, do you revel in it when you do.

Like so much about him, Bruce’s undivided attention is intense. He’s told you once you tether him to the light; he’s bound to you because without you, he’d be lost. You’re used the dramatics. As much as you could tease him for that, you never did because he believes it. He thinks, on some level, you’ve saved him just as much as Dick has. You’ve never seen yourself as something so extraordinary, but when Bruce puts aside the masks, you become something else entirely new in your own eyes.

It’s late now, and your body squirms against Bruce. He’s taking his time with you, depriving you both of what you’re after now. His lips pay service to their admiration of you, tasting every inch of your skin. Bruce is firm with his movements. He’s controlled, but gentle. You wanted him up here, and he wants to prove to you he’s here.

“Bruce…” you whine, his kisses peppering over your chest, stomach. He shifts down to the waistband of your sleep shorts, the only thing that remains on your body. Thin cotton is now all that prevents Bruce from full access to you.

He pays you no mind, focused on the task at hand, regardless of whether it’s what you want of him. You asked for this. You asked for him. “Don’t be too eager,” he mutters, voice muffled against you.

Cocky bastard. Don’t be too eager comes out easy when he’s the one drawing things out. You’re sure that’s his plan, too. He wants to see how far he can take this, how long he can make you wait before you’re fully coming undone beneath his fingertips. It’s one of his favorite games.

You think of Bruce’s words in the cave, wondering what the sounds of little laughter would sound like echoing in these vast halls. Wondering how far a baby’s cry would be heard.

Bruce senses your mind beginning to wander. You’re not sure how, but you’ve learned better than to question these sorts of things. He has his ways, has his years of training, has his ever-focused mind. His fingertips dip beneath the waistband of your shorts, brushing over the sensitive skin of your lower belly.

Your hand rakes through his thick dark hair, tangling into the curls. He showered after patrol. His hair is free of its usual product to keep it slicked back. He looks more undone than most in Gotham would be accustomed to, but this is your favorite way to see Bruce. Wild. Less burdened by the masks he wears. He’s not trying to be Bruce Wayne, nor is he trying to be Batman.

He’s in nothing but his sweatpants, the outline of his hard-on clear in the faint moonlight.

“You can’t put a baby inside me from out there,” you say, your voice needy. You already know your half-baked attempt at getting what you want isn’t going to work, but you can try.

You do get a reaction out of him, but it’s far from what you’d hoped. The weight of the bed shifts as Bruce sits up onto his elbow. His steely eyes fall to your lusty expression from beneath his heavy brows. Your eyes are glossed over with the weight of your want. “I’m the one doing the teasing here,” he says sternly, his Batman side showing a little more. But you can tell you’ve definitely struck something.

“I’m not teasing,” you whine.

A possessiveness intensity grows on Bruce’s face. You’ve spoken the magic words, and there’s something feral within him that crawls up to the surface. It’s a side of him you’re perfectly aware exists, but not one you often see first hand. This is Batman; this is the predator that stalks to get what he’s after.

You gasp as you’re pinned down before you even blink. Bruce has your wrists above your head. His hips cage you in, bulge pressing where you want him most. But he doesn’t move. You try to roll your hips, try to give yourself more of what you seek, but you’re stuck beneath Bruce’s weight, his erection pressing up against you with little you can do.

He smirks down at you, and if he hadn’t gotten you so worked up, you’d be able to think about how insufferable he really is. But right now, you’re too wound up, hips just barely grinding against him in search of friction that just isn’t enough.

Bruce’s lips brush up against your neck. Shivers run down your spine. His teeth bite down, not quite hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to show he’s not messing around. Hard enough for your breath to hitch, your hips bucking up to meet him to no avail. You’re not moving unless he wants you to.

“Bruce…” you pout.

“Be patient. I’ll take care of you.” His muttered assurances do little to ease the aching inside you, however. The soft grumble into your ear only makes it worse. The sound of his voice after a long patrol, body fighting sleep he’s been putting off for far too long. But he won’t let that stop him; you’ve called for him, and he’s here in your time of need.

He nibbles on your jaw as his hand slides up, calloused fingertips softly circling your sensitive nipple. You let out a needy whimper, mind dizzy with desire and deprivation. Your fingers curl into the sheets, back arching for more contact.

“We would make a beautiful baby,” he mutters. Your eyes are closed, brows pressed up, but you can hear lingering amusement in his voice. Your body lurches with longing, its biological drive being stroked by Bruce’s words. “I’d fill this manor with our children if it meant getting to see your face in all of them.”

Your husband isn’t one to mince words, but when he wants to pull out the stops, you fall victim to him just as much as anyone else he’s ever charmed. You hate to admit it, but he knows just the right words to turn you to putty.

Bruce’s fingers finally dip beneath the waistband of your shorts, softly trailing down to run over the seam of your pussy.

Your breath hitches. Even the softest brush causes your hips to jerk, and this time, Bruce obliges.

His fingers dip between your folds, collecting your slick to trace agonizingly slow circles around your clit. Your eyes are closed, but you know he’s studying you, cataloging every minor movement of your expression, looking for all the best spots. These are the skills that’s earned him his playboy reputation in Gotham. The people who give rave reviews about fucking Bruce Wayne aren’t lying.

But Bruce so often sees his body as only a tool. A means to fight crime or gain information. A body may be a tool for creating children, but this is more than just that. Bruce uses his skills, longing to make something good of them. Desperate for more than blood on his hands, more than violence and fear.

It’s not long until he has you at the precipice of your climax. One of many, if this encounter is to be like any of your others. When your moans get needier, louder, indicating you’re close to your tipping point, Bruce stops. His fingers pull away, tracing up your stomach, splaying out over the skin. He’s perfectly aware of how badly you need this; that’s exactly why he’s putting it off.

“I told you to be patient,” he warns. He’s not going to rush through this. He plans to take his time with you. He pushes himself up, and from this new angle, you see the bulge in his sweatpants, half-hard cock pressed up enough to see a very clear outline.

Longing pools in the pit of your stomach, eyes skimming the scarred surface of his skin. Scar tissue puckers, each one even lighter than the rest of Bruce’s sun-deprived complexion. Deep bruises scatter across his body, some faint and green, fading away to nothingness, while others are dark; blue and purple, splotchy and angry.

He pulls down the sweatpants. His cock springs out, illuminated beautifully by the moonlight pouring through his window. You watch the muscles on his perfectly sculpted ass move as he tosses the sweatpants to the floor. He looks like a warrior carved out of marble, even in the darkness of his bedroom. The thick muscles tense as he moves.

You spread your legs, eagerly awaiting for him to slot himself inside, but he doesn’t. His thick fingers wrap around his length, grasping tight, slowly stroking himself. A soft grunt comes from the back of his throat, and you sigh just from hearing it. He slips a thigh between your legs, pressing up against you, a breathy groan following after as you begin to follow Bruce’s wordless command.

Your hips grind against the muscles of his thigh, watching as he works himself harder and harder. His free hand comes up, working through the hair that’s fallen in his face. Yet again, he looks like artwork. Muscles clear against his skin from a long night of patrol. Scarred flesh across his rippling torso, across his arms and legs.

You’ve never adjusted seeing Bruce so scarred; each time, you think of how much is at stake when he goes out at night. The scars are a testament to Bruce’s loyalty, but not to you. To his city, whenever she needs him.

She is the woman he’s given his heart to, no matter the ring on your finger. You could bare his child, fill up Wayne Manor with adorable giggles, and he would still turn to her each and every night. As difficult as that is to accept, it’s one of the things that had driven you to Bruce in the first place.

His eyes don’t stray from the sight of you before him, grinding against his leg, smearing your slick over him. Ever observant, but telling nothing. You used to worry when he stared at you like that during sex; the ferocity was unnerving. Were you doing something wrong? Making an awkward face? But you’ve since learned the honor of capturing Bruce’s attention. Such a fleeting thing, so often preoccupied with his mission, so seldom letting dedication give way to pleasure.

But then there are these times when the call of your body outshines his endless duty. When he isn’t thinking of the future, but thinking of right now. Thinking of you. And, apparently, fucking a baby into you.

Bruce coats the tip of his swollen cock with precum as he works himself. He drops, catching himself against the mattress with one hand, still pumping his cock in the other. “Do you want it?” he asks, voice low. Eyes wild. You feel him brush up against your entrance.

You nod, mouth agape in a raunchy display of how badly you want him.

His tip pushes inside and you gasp. He holds himself up on an elbow as he half-thrusts into you. You squirm beneath him trying to satiate the urgent need to be full. His head ducks down into your neck; his breath is hot against your skin as he lets out a sigh. Bruce will never ask for safety, nor will he admit he needs it. But even when he dons the batsuit, there is still some part of him that’s a terrified child, alone in an alley.

You are safety he won’t ask for. Shelter he’s never known to seek. Security he is terrified to lose.

He eases himself in slowly, making sure you feel every vein as he sinks deeper into you.

Your hands land on his back, nails digging into the skin. Breath catches in your throat and your back arches against Bruce.

“Does that feel good?” he asks, already perfectly aware of the answer.

You let out a breathy affirmation, eyes fluttering shut as he hits something blindingly sweet inside of you. All day, you’d been wanting this, aching to feel him. Daydreaming of being split open on his dick. Now you have it, and it’s even better than you were thinking.

He holds himself in you for a minute, and your walls flutter around him. Lips brush over skin, quickened breaths hold space in the silence as you both grasp onto one another until eventually he starts rutting against you, nudging at the already aching spot deep within you.

Bruce’s resolve never crumbles, fucking you with the same level of intention as he does anything else in his life. He keeps his pace steady, his face concentrated. His eyes slip shut, brows pinched together.

“Feels so good,” you whimper against his shoulder.

“I know it does,” Bruce coos, hand gripping the back of your neck. “I want it to feel good when I put my baby in you.”

And god, does that do something to you. His movements feel even more blissful, your biological urges getting stroked just as much as your pussy. Whether this is a wise decision or not remains to be seen, but you’re too fucked out to think straight, and it’s not like your baby fever brain is going to tell you anything contrary.

He holds onto your hips, practically folding you to thrust in deeper. You cry out, pleasure causing something syrupy to build within you yet again.

“Take it slow, darling,” he says. “I want us to cum together. You can wait, can’t you?”

His dirty talk is the one thing that didn’t seem to change once you knew he was Batman, the one thing that hadn’t dissipated from the persona. As usually non-verbal as Bruce was, he loved to dirty talk.

“Not like this…” you reply breathlessly. Not when he’s hitting just the right spot, not when the warmth inside of you feels absolutely molten and you can feel yourself squeezing around him.

Bruce grunts, a characteristic sign of his disapproval. “Do you need a break?” He doesn’t mean to sound patronizing; it just comes naturally to him. Like it’s your fault he fucks you like a man deprived. But before you can call him out on it, he takes a hand away from your hips, lowering himself onto an elbow yet again. “Do you need to cool down?” His teeth graze your earlobe gently, his voice growing just slightly sweeter.

He dips his head down back into your neck, nipping at the skin, a hand trails up your side, cupping a breast in his palm. “I don’t want to rush.”

“Of course not,” you scoff, still working to catch your breath. Your hips jerk towards him again, trying replicate his thrusts somehow, but he doesn’t allow you what you seek. You squeeze around him, trying to persuade him to fuck into you again, but Bruce’s iron will doesn’t give.

“Breathe,” he whispers. His fingers brush up against your pulse point, shivers running down your spine from the gentle gesture. “I’ll let you cum soon. I promise.”

You’ve learned a long time ago that Bruce’s promises only go so far. He promises to show up for the dinner reservations he booked, only for Alfred to tell you he stepped out as soon as you’re ready. He promises for a day without Batman, only for him to sneak down to the cave as soon as he thinks you aren’t paying attention.

For all you know, he means to draw this out until the sun rises. It’s not like it’d be the first time.

He leans in until he’s just a breath away. He nips at your bottom lip, capturing it between his teeth. You hear his deep chuckle as he tugs on the lip, his cock twitching inside of you. Once again, you try to grind down, try to seek more of his length. He frees your lip from its arrest before diving back in. He kisses you, passionate yet soft. Back to that devout touch.

You respond greedily, legs still bent at his hips. Your fingers curl into his hair, holding him against you.

He pulls back. He raises his hand, cupping your jaw in his palm. Eyes fixed on you.

“I love you, you know.”

Bruce doesn’t say it often; he’s admitted so himself. You’ve known for a long time now to expect the unconventional with your husband. Love confessions while he’s buried to the hilt inside of you is the closest the two of you get to normal.

“If you love me, you’d let me cum,” you pout.

He chuckles softly. “I thought you liked it when I’m sweet.” Taunting you again. He’s lucky you do love him otherwise you would never put up with all his bullshit. Coming home bleeding. Leaving you to worry about him while he runs around Gotham. Putting off your orgasm when he knows how badly you need it.

He pulls back, his eyes meeting yours. You feel his heart pounding against your chest. His cock jerks against your walls.

Without warning, he sinks back into you. You gasp, nails digging back into his skin at the sudden movement. His movements are deep and sure, hitting that same spot inside of you. “Oh fuck!” you cry, head thrown back against the pillows. “Fuck, Bruce, just like that.”

“I told you I’d take care of you,” he growls into the shell of your ear. “I wouldn’t leave you so desperate.”

Bruce thrusts into you, pushing deep, hitting the spots he knows will leave you too fucked out to move once he’s finished with you. Warmth pools back in your core as your pleasure builds back up from where Bruce left you. You clutch him against you, demanding your release. And this time, he shows you mercy.

Bruce moans against you. Even for his expert precision, you feel his thrusts getting sloppier, more frantic. He’s close.

You bite down on his shoulder. Bruce’s groans louder.

“Do you want me to come inside you, darling? Do you want me to give you a baby?” His voice is rough, a sign that his composure is cracking.

“Uh-huh…” You nod, gripping onto him like a vice so he doesn’t even consider pulling away from you.

“I will,” he murmurs.

Your sighs and pants join together, both of you wrapped so tightly around the other where you truly do feel like one. Being deprived of your orgasm has you frenzied, chasing after your high. And this time, Bruce follows through.

Your climax hits you like a train. For a few seconds, your ears are ringing, and you stare up at Bruce blankly, too blissed out to see.

He slams into you, hips stuttering. His hand cups your neck, eyes pinched shut. As he tosses his head back, you think of the rareness of this moment. Expression pinched with pleasure, Bruce makes good on his promise, spilling into you. You feel his cock pulsing, softly grinding against you, making sure every drop fills your pussy.

He falls on top of you, cock still buried inside of you. His weight is comforting, if just a little suffocating. But your body thrums with the electricity of your orgasm. Fingertips tingling, sweat beading up on your skin. Your walls throb around him, his seed warm inside in hopes of taking root.

The two of you are silent as you catch your breath, coming down from your bliss. The room is dark, and yet you feel absolutely bathed in light, warm and heavy.

You let out a soft whimper when Bruce finally pulls out, feeling cold and empty in his absence. He rises to his knees and observes his work, eyes sparkling as he watches his cum leak out of you. He swipes his thumb along your clit. You squirm, still sensitive from your peak.

“You’re irresistible, do you know that?” he asks you, still kneeling above you. Cum drips from his tip, sliding down his still-hard shaft.

Had you any energy left to speak, you’d remind him how he’s usually quite able to resist you, but you don’t want to ruin the afterglow of all of that. Not when you can watch Bruce’s scarred belly rising and falling from his exertion. Not after feeling his heart beating in time with yours as he pumps you full of his cum.

You hum contentedly, too spent for words, laying in the afterglow of the sex. The sounds of Bruce moving about the room only partially register in your mind until the bed shifts with his weight again. You jolt slightly, shaken from your stupor as Bruce gently cleans up the cum leaking from you.

“I meant what I said.” Bruce doesn’t look up as he speaks. “We’d have beautiful children.”

A tired smile crawls on your face as you look back at him. “We will,” you reply.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider giving this a reblog 💛

[mrsevans90]

Double Life

Summary: Charlotte has gone on a few dates with a journalist named Clark Kent and she really feels like she’s falling for him. She has noticed some odd behavior from him every once in a while, but the worst part is not knowing if he’s truly interested in her. Why won’t he make a move? Is he just taking things extremely slow? Are her feelings for him unrequited? She finds the answers to all of her questions in the most embarrassing way imaginable. 

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Clark Kent/Superman x Female Reader Charlotte

Brief mention of Bruce Wayne x Female Reader

Word Count: 5,060 

Warnings: SMUT; masturbation, voyeur, oral (f), oral (m), squirting, cum swallowing, fingering, P in V intercourse, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), dirty talk, rough sex, language.

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 

This story is not beta’d

A/N: This story came to me in a dream and I woke up and immediately typed the idea in my notes section of my phone. This is my very FIRST attempt at writing anything on Tumblr so all I ask is please be kind and if you love it then please comment and REPOST! Thank you for reading! 

*CHARLOTTE POV*

I woke up early Saturday morning. It seems impossible to sleep in now that I’ve become so used to being at the office by 8 am every morning. I feel a bit jittery after my date last night and am thankful for the wine that I consumed being the only reason I even was able to fall asleep. I lay in bed as my thoughts run wild. I know I should be getting out of bed and going for a run in an attempt to get rid of this pent-up energy, but glancing towards my bedroom window shows a dreary overcast day with a potential for rain. I toss and turn trying to find a comfortable position while my brain races thinking of last night. A handsome and often quiet man named Clark Kent had taken me on our fifth date. He was absolutely gorgeous, well dressed with his hair combed back, strong jaw with dimpled chin and black framed glasses. His incredible physique and handsome features are only partially what attracts me to him. His generous and mild-mannered personality and intelligence were a huge turn on. The attraction I feel for Clark is more than I ever remember feeling for a man before. My dating life since getting cheated on by my long-term high school boyfriend has been very short lived which I was fine with until now. I feel like I’ve continually held men at arm’s length, settling for a few one-night stands but nothing more in an attempt to spare my heart from more heartache. I realized after our third date that I wanted more with Clark and that he was worth the risk but I honestly am not sure how he feels about me. Yes, he’s continued to ask me on dates; taking me to dinner several times and even to a movie, yet he hasn’t made any more advances other than holding my hand and a cordial peck on the cheek. He walks me to my door after each date and ends our evening with a hug, kiss on the cheek and a goodnight. After our fourth date, I asked him if he’d like to come inside, however, he politely declined. I’m going out of my mind trying to figure out if he’s even interested but I haven’t built up the courage to ask him yet. I doubt I would even get the chance after I essentially stuck my foot in my mouth on the walk home from dinner with him last night. 

*Flashback to last night*

We walked past a storefront near my apartment that was advertising superman shirts for children and I commented how cute they were. I had noticed over the past month, that Clark was very quiet anytime I mentioned the famous Superman around him. Why couldn’t I just take the hint that he was uncomfortable?

“You know, you look an awful lot like Superman. I bet if you dressed as him for your work Halloween party, people wouldn’t be able to tell the difference in you both!” I said with a smile that quickly went away when I noticed him flinch.

Unfortunately, I didn’t stop my nervous rambling there. In my attempt to lighten the mood, I said, “I wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out that you actually are Superman! Ha ha! Do you have a secret identity you’re keeping from me, Clark?” I said with a wink. 

When I looked at Clark he seemed withdrawn and somewhat nervous. 

“No, no. I’m certainly not that interesting.” Clark quickly responded while looking at his feet as we walked into my apartment building.

“I’ve enjoyed tonight but I have to get going. I have, um… I have an early start in the morning attempting to interview people in Gotham City about the latest crime statistics.” Clark told me before I could even invite him inside. He seemed fidgety and awkward as he kept glancing anywhere but at my eyes.

“On a Saturday?” I ask and he quickly nodded while avoiding eye contact with me.

“Good journalism never takes a day off.” He said with an embarrassed smile. 

“I could possibly help. I have Bruce Wayne’s contact information if you’d like it. I’m sure he could be an interesting person to interview for your article.”

“You do? Why? I mean, how do you know him?” He responded with an arched eyebrow as he finally made eye contact with me for the first time in the past few minutes.

“Well, almost two months ago I met him at a charity gala for the Children’s hospital. He came over and spoke to me for a bit before he asked me on a date. It was the day after you asked me if I would go to dinner with you so I politely turned him down. He gave me his business card in case I changed my mind.” I responded quickly. Why does this feel so awkward? I didn’t do anything wrong but I still feel like he’s disappointed.

“I’m sure it’s on my desk in the apartment, if you’d like to come inside?” I ask as a last stitch effort to see if I had completely ruined this date.

“No, no that’s not necessary…Thank you, I appreciate the offer though. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” Clark asked with his typical kiss on the cheek. 

“Oh…okay. Goodnight Clark.”

“Goodnight Charlotte.” He responded before turning and beelining for the exit. 

“Way to go, Char. Could you be any more of a dumbass?” I quietly said to myself as I closed my apartment door and went to get ready for bed.

*Present Day*

As I continue to lay in bed I begin thinking about Clark and think about how large and strong his hand was as he cradled my small one in his while we walked to the restaurant. The veins in his muscular arms, and his strong, sharp jaw. My arousal begins to dampen my panties which I quickly remove and lay back in only my white tank top. Guess this will be the only sexual relief I will be getting for a long time. I thought to myself as I reach for the vibrator in my nightstand and begin pleasuring myself. After only a few minutes, I have kicked off my covers as my body begins to glisten with perspiration, and begin pleading for my orgasm to arrive. My eyes clamped shut, I imagine Clark’s large, strong chest against my own, his arms on either side of my head as he pumps what I can only imagine is a perfect and large cock into my warmth. I imagine his beautiful blue eyes staring into my own as he presses kisses to my body and sucks on my neck.

“Clark! Please, please, please, Clark! Ugh! I need you!” I say verbally as I continue to spur myself on in this filthy fantasy. 

CLARK POV:

Across town I am scrambling some eggs on the stove as I think about last night. Had Charlotte actually figured out my secret? Something the rest of the world seemed oblivious too? Or was she just joking and truly unaware? I had to deny it even though she was absolutely correct. I cringed as I began thinking about Bruce hitting on her. It’s not shocking since she’s possibly the most naturally stunning, intelligent, and interesting woman I have ever met. I believe I made it clear with him on the phone after I came home last night to stay away from my girl. I know she’s not technically mine, or a possession to own, but I have more claim to her heart than Bruce and I won’t allow him to interfere. Before I even realize it, I have squeezed a hand shaped imprint around the flimsy handle of the pan I was using.

“Damnit!” I mutter to myself.

I feel like Charlotte is getting impatient with me. It’s obvious that she wants more but how do I handle a relationship with someone I can’t be fully honest with. I want to tell her, I want her to fully know me but I feel like I can’t. I think back to how Lois was used essentially as bait when we were dating. The paranoia and pressure of being Superman’s personal kryptonite and obvious weakness was too much for both of us. Now, she was happily engaged to an engineer in the city. I’m delighted for her, she deserves true happiness yet I wonder if I’ll ever get to experience the same. I couldn’t stop myself from asking Charlotte on a date. The moment I saw her walking into the office next to me, I was lovestruck. Her long blonde hair, tight but professional dress with heels and most importantly crystal blue eyes. She was independent and driven as the head of marketing for her department. Yet, she still had this kindness about her as I watched her enter her building and the front desk guard hug her while thanking her for the toys she had sent home for his young children. She smiled genuinely and made him promise to bring his wife and children for a visit soon. God how I wanted every bit of her. I wanted her body, her mind, her future. The fourth time I saw her, I couldn’t help myself as I made my way towards her and “accidentally” bumped into her. We began a conversation and I was hooked. Before I could even think about the potential consequences, I was asking her to dinner. My cock ached as I thought about her in the shower last night after our date. Hell, I may be an alien but I still have sexual urges. She smelled and looked so beautiful. I could imagine her breasts pressed against my body. I daydreamt about the softness of her lips and the sounds she might make as I slowly took her apart. It has been almost impossible to turn down her invitations to join her in her apartment. I haven’t even allowed myself to kiss her because I’m scared to go any further and get more attached only to have her walk away if she finds out my secret. Was this self-preservation or just stupidity? I’m jolted out of my thoughts as I hear her voice louder than all the others noises going on around me thanks to my super hearing. I listen carefully as I hear her calling my name.

“Clark! Please, please, please, Clark! I need you!” 

I hear her whine and she sounds as if she is out of breath. Without thinking I jump into my Superman suit and bolt out of the window straight into the sky headed towards Charlotte’s apartment. As I get closer, I can hear her whimper along with her accelerated heartrate and I panic thinking she’s in trouble. I reach her unlocked window and slide it open before flying in. Her apartment smells just like her, floral and clean. I focus on her heartbeat and the quiet buzzing sound that I originally thought was coming from the apartment below hers. As soon as I open the door I smell her arousal at the same moment I watch her reach her climax with her eyes clamped shut. 

“Yes, baby!” She cries out. Her legs are parted as she holds a small purple vibrator against her clit and I can see and smell how turned on she is as her pussy glistens with her want. Her breasts are barely contained in a thin white tank top as they heave up and down while she breathes through her orgasm.

Fuck! I’m such a pervert. I need to get out of here before she sees me!

I can’t help but stare at her as she’s laying there twitching from her euphoria. I reach for the door to carefully close it before I realize I wasn’t quick enough.

“Oh my god!” She shouts as she pulls the covers over her body to cover her modesty. Her face blushing profusely as she stares at me.

I back up quickly with my hands in front of me until my back hits her hallway wall. “I’m so sorry. I heard you calling for me and I thought you were in pain. I swear I didn’t mean to walk in on you!” I blurt out quickly not even realizing my own mistake. Charlotte just stares at me with a shocked and bewildered look on her face.

“I’ll go, truly I’m so sorry about this, Ma’am.” I say with my eyes directed at the floor as I pray my rock-hard erection isn’t as obvious as it feels in my form fitting suit. Right as I turn to run back towards the window I hear her again.

“Wait! Please wait!”

Her eyes are wide as she slowly begins to smirk as I turn back around to face her, my eyes still drawn to the floor.

“I didn’t call out for Superman. I called out for Clark.” She says and I glance up at her with wide eyes as saucers as I realize that I had just outed my own secret. My cheeks blush and I can’t put together a single thought to respond to what she just said.

We stare at each other for what feels like minutes even though it’s only just a few seconds.

“I knew I was onto something. You’re always MIA around when Superman is on the news fighting crime, and you stiffen up anytime I mention him. You also had to leave early because of a “family emergency” on our third date but seemed confused later when I asked you if everything with your family was okay. That was the same night that serial killer was brought to the police station by Superman in Gotham. I…I hope you know that I won’t ever tell anyone, Clark. I thought you knew that you could trust me.” She says and I step towards her while remaining a safe distance.

“I’m…I’m so sorry, Charlotte. I didn’t mean to lie to you. I do trust you but I’ve had to keep this secret my entire life. I was scared at how easily you caught on. I always knew you were intelligent but I was hoping I could still keep you off of the scent of my deception.” 

“It was really just a theory, but obviously this is my confirmation. Since I’m already more than embarrassed after what you just saw, I guess I really have nothing to lose if I just go ahead and ask you.”

“I’m listening.” I say as I hear her heartrate begin to increase steadily.

“Is this why you’ve held back from me? Or are you even interested in dating me? I’m absolutely fine with taking things slow if that’s what you want. I can’t help my old insecurities that make me wonder if you’re even attracted to me and are serious about taking things further with us.” She says with the sweetest innocence and I can’t help but walk towards her and reach out to stroke her cheek. She pulls for me to sit down beside her and I can’t resist.

“I am absolutely interested in dating you, sweetheart. If you only knew how infatuated I am with you, it might frighten you. You are my dream girl, the one I think about each night, and the one person I feel like truly sees to my soul, even when you only knew half of my identity. I see a future for us, Charlotte, which is why I was scared. I was scared that you would run if you found out who I am. I was scared you then might only be interested in me because I’m Superman. Simple Clark just can’t compete with all of the Superman fanfare. What scares me the most is that you could be used as a pawn by dangerous people. I can’t fathom putting you in harm's way. People could come after me and find you to use against me. Being Superman ruined my last and only real relationship so I guess I felt that if I kept ours in limbo, I could still have the time I crave with you while also not losing you. I was afraid to let you in because of my own fears. It has absolutely nothing to do with you. I can’t even begin to tell you how hard it was to not kiss you during our dates or come into your apartment when you invited me. I’m so sorry if I made you feel anything other than absolutely adored. I’m out of my element and have no idea what I’m doing.” Clark says the last part with an embarrassed chuckle.

“Clark, I understand your fears and your sense of self-preservation. I do it too. I often feel like I’ve built the walls around my heart too high in order to protect myself from heartache but each moment I’ve spent with you seems to lower them. I see a potential future with you too which is terrifying and exhilarating all at once because I don’t want to be heartbroken again. I guess what I’m trying to say is that you are worth the risk.  I’m not afraid of you, or being with you. I’m not going anywhere. I want you in any and every form and I won’t run away. You are the only person that has made me feel alive again in years.”

Clark smiles triumphantly before leaning down and kissing Charlotte passionately. After kissing her for several minutes, she slowly pulls back to catch her breath.

“So, you’ve seen mine… When do I get to see yours? Fair is fair.” Charlotte looks up at me sultrily as she runs her hands up and down my arms.

“Are you certain that is what you want?” I smirk as I arch my eyebrow at her.

She nods as she sits up on her knees and drops the blanket that was covering her body only clad in a thin white tank top. 

“Only if you want too.” She seductively bites her lip as she trails her fingers down my torso and gently cups my bulge that is swelling indecently against my tight suit. 

“Holy shit!” She murmurs quietly as she presses against my engorged erection and I can’t help but chuckle.

Before I even think I’m unzipping and tugging my suit off of my body at super speed before leaning over her and ripping her tank top from her torso. She squeals in excitement as I lean over her pressing our hot naked bodies against each other while pulling her into a zealous kiss.  

“You don’t know how long I’ve fantasized about having you like this, Lottie. I’ve wanted you to be mine from the moment I saw you.” I say as I touch all over her beautiful body.

“Ditto, which you obviously know since you got a front row seat to my indecent fantasies about you.” She says with a little giggle as I begin kissing down her torso after having already sucked on her pert breasts.

I make my way down her body as I become face to face with her hot, dripping core. I smell the sweet arousal coming from her and when I look up at her for permission she quickly nods as she reaches to caress my cheek. I smirk at her before I begin feasting on her sweet petals and sucking on her clit. 

“Oh my god, Clark!” She almost yells while her hands tug against my hair as she begins gyrating her hips to increase the pleasure she is receiving from my mouth. I continue for a few minutes as I feel her begin to stiffen from her orgasm. I continue to lick her gently through her orgasm but decide that I’m not finished with her yet. I want to give her an orgasm so earth shattering that she squirts her arousal all over my face. She shouts as I shove my finger into her opening, quickly followed by a second one. I curl my fingers and search for her g-spot. 

I know quickly that I’ve found it when her back arches off of the bed and she yells, “Fuck! Clark! Right there!” 

I begin shoving my fingers against the soft spongey spot while my tongue continues to flick over her clit. 

“I think I’m gonna… oh shit Clark! This feels different! Oh my god!” She squeals as her body arches off of the bed and she begins to squirt. The sounds of her squelching and dripping are lewd as I continue to work her through it. Her body almost convulses around my assault and I preen at her filthy moans. I am doing everything to keep from blowing my load on her bed. I watch as Charlotte’s whole body quickly becomes jelly-like as her muscles relax and I lightly kiss her thighs. 

“That was beautiful, baby.” I say as I press small kisses on her hips and abdomen.

“Did I? Oh my god, Clark. Did I just squirt?” She asks as her cheeks are beet red.

“You sure did baby. Soaked my face and almost made me blow my load. Did it feel good?”

“Yes, but I’m so embarrassed. I’m so sor...” She began to say before I quickly cut her off with a kiss. 

“Don’t you ever apologize for that sweetheart. That was a pure masterpiece and I hope I’ll get you to do it again at some point. I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on.” I admit before kissing her again.

“Now it’s your turn.” She smiles as she attempts to push me to the bed. It’s like a kitten trying to push a lion over which makes me grin before I quickly concede and lay on my back. 

“Babygirl, you don’t have too. I’m just happy to give you pleasure.” I tell her.

“Oh no, Mr. Kent. I’m not missing an opportunity to taste you.” Charlotte says as she begins moving down my body. I can barely lay still once she reaches my manhood and I feel her warm breath where I need her most. I groan as I take in the sight of her tiny hand wrapping around my girth as she begins to kitten lick along my length. I groan as she looks at me doe eyed before she takes me in her mouth. She has the mouth of a goddess and I’m already close before she even adds her tiny hand to pump what wouldn’t fit. I reach down and grab her long beautiful hair into a makeshift ponytail so I can watch her. I feel her tiny hand begin pulsing around my balls and groan loudly. I can’t help myself as I watch her steady herself before taking my entire length to her throat. She gags as her nose reaches my skin and she slightly pulls off before doing it again. Saliva is dripping from her chin as she continues working my cock.

“Babygirl, I’m gonna cum. You need to...fuck… stop if you don’t want it in your mouth.” 

She moans around my length as she doubles her effort and the vibrations feel heavenly. That’s all it took for me to reach my high and explode down her throat.

My body shivers in aftershocks due to the oversensitivity as Y/N continues to suck around the head of my cock and massage my balls. I look down and see that she’s swallowed everything and is smiling brightly at me. I reach down and pull her up my body as I immediately begin kissing her breathless. 

“Darling, that was incredible. Thank you.” I smile at her before I kiss down her neck. 

*CHARLOTTE POV*

My mind is empty of every thought due to the alarm bells and “OMG THIS IS ACTUALLY HAPPENING” screaming repeatedly in my head. I’m trying my best to play it off, but my fantasy is coming true and it’s even better than I ever could have imagined. Clark is not only the best kisser I’ve ever experienced, but he has the body of a Greek God. Well, in this case, he has a body of a superhero. I’ve been doing my best not to sound needy but heavens, I need him inside of me.

“Clark” I say as he continues to press gentle kisses behind my ear and the column of my neck.

“Yes angel?” 

“Please tell me I don’t have to wait long for you to be inside of me. I need you.”

He smirks above me as I feel his rigid cock against my abdomen. It didn’t go soft after his orgasm. “You want me right now?” I nod enthusiastically. 

“Spread your legs for me sweetheart. Take what you want.” Clark says huskily in my ear. For a man who seemed so reserved and shy, he has all of the confidence in the world when it comes to the bedroom. As he should!

I smile wildly as his chest vibrates against my own with a low growl as I reach his hard length and pump him a few times against my slick before pressing him to my entrance.

“Oh my god!”

“Shit!” 

We both speak simultaneously as he seats himself fully inside of me. It feels like he is reaching my lungs as he gives me a moment to adjust around his ginormous cock.

“God, Clark! You’re huge!” 

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” Clark frets even though he hasn’t moved inside of me.

“Fuck no!” I respond almost breathlessly as I wrap my hands around his biceps tightly. 

“I’ve just never been with someone as big as you. I’m okay. You can move now.”

Clark carefully pulls almost completely out of me before gently sliding all the way back in. 

“Baby girl, you are so tight and warm. You feel incredible.” He says as he starts building up a gentle rhythm. 

“You won’t break me, baby. You can go harder.” 

“I could if I’m not careful, Sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I will tell you if it starts to hurt, I swear. Relax, baby.” I say before kissing him enthusiastically. He reaches and cups my tits in his hands, massaging them gently.

Clark watches me carefully before taking a breath and slamming into me roughly. His pubic bone slamming into my clit making me shriek with the sensation.

“How’s that for harder?” He whispers.

“Oh, fuck yes, baby! Just like that! You feel so good inside of me.” I whine as my hands scratch down his back without even making a mark on his strong impenetrable skin.

“That’s right, sweet girl. I can tell you’re close. Come all over my cock. Squeeze me.” He says as my body begins milking him. 

“CLARK!” I shout.

“Call me Kal, baby. When I’m balls deep inside this sweet pussy, I want you to call me Kal.” He says with the most shit eating grin while never slowing his pace.

“Oh my god, Kal!” I moan just before my eyes roll back and I instantly come all over him.

“Fuck yes, this is the tightest little pussy in the world. So beautiful and wet and snug around me.” He grunts as he continues to slam into me. Before I realize it, he’s sitting me up in his lap so that our chests are against each other and my legs are wrapped around his waist. Clark grabs the back of my neck to press himself even closer to me as I brace my hands on his shoulders. 

“Just when I thought you couldn’t possibly become more beautiful….” Clark whispers into my ear as he grabs my ass to help me move on top of him.

“Watching your gorgeous body tremble in ecstasy is the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen, Angel.”

Clark plants his feet against the floor and begins wildly thrusting as I rotate my hips in his lap. His hands are most likely leaving bruises on my hips but I don’t even care.

“I want you to come inside of me, baby. I need to feel you fill me up. I’m on the pill. Please?” I speak against his ear between his heavy thrusts into me and clench down on him at his responding moan. What has gotten into me? I’ve never let a man come inside of me. This isn’t just any man though, and I am absolutely feral for him.

“Only if you come with me.” He grunts.

“I can’t… it’s too much.” I tell him as my body shakes against him.

“Yes, you can, baby.” He reaches between us and presses his thumb on my clit. I cry out from overstimulation but realize I’m almost there.

“Kal, right there! I’m so close!”

“Come baby. Soak me.” He says as he continues to pleasure me and a moment later I have the most blinding orgasm of my life. I swear that I feel like I am floating as I hear Clark grunt and release a deep baritone moan as his warm come coats my inner walls. My body is shaking with tingles to all of my extremities as I am encased in pure bliss. When I finally somewhat come to, I realize I wasn’t just floating from my orgasm, Clark and I were actually floating above my bed. Clark’s head is resting on the junction of my neck and shoulder when I quickly press closer to him and wrap my arms around his neck to keep from falling.

Clark chuckles as he gently sets us down on the bed. “I guess you would’ve found out my secret eventually. I just came so hard that I literally levitated.” 

I giggle and press my lips to his. “I didn’t freak you out, did I?”

“Not at all. I think it’s really cool that you are Superman, Kal;” I say as I stroke a curl that has fallen onto his forehead. “but the man that I have been falling in love with is Clark. He is all I need. The rest is just a bonus. If you’ll have me of course.”

Clark rests his forehead against my own as he gives me the most panty dropping smile. “You don’t know how much that means to me, sweetheart. Will you be my girl?”

“I would love nothing more.” I respond with a sweet kiss. The rest of the weekend is spent wrapped in each other.

[k-howlett]

Breaking and Entering | Bruce Wayne(Batman) Xgn!reader pt II

TW: Character Death (Jason Todd), Grief, and eventual age-gap relationship (Bruce is mid-late 40s, reader is 17, soon to be 18)

Rating: Gender Nonspecific, General Audience, SFW

A/N:

Thank you so much for all the love on pt I, I’m so happy to get back into the swing of things.

as always,

with love and healing,

-Lark(ly)

⊹₊⟡⋆ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⊹₊⟡⋆

“I thought you weren’t going to show,” Y/N said as their footsteps crunched softly against the fall leaves. Still in their school uniform, they carried a backpack lazily slung over one shoulder. Jason Todd’s jacket hung loosely around them, its weight a small comfort against Gotham’s persistent gloom.

Bruce’s blue eyes flicked up from where he stood, his gaze sweeping over them. His tall, broad frame dwarfed theirs as he finally spoke. “I told you I’d come.”

“You said you’d consider it. Thats usually code for ‘go fuck yourself’ but in a polite way” they quipped, a playful edge in their voice as they leaned closer to him.

Bruce rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance, and gently nudged them away. “In my case, it means ‘I don’t want to make a promise I can’t keep and stretch myself too thin,’” he countered, his tone firm but with a subtle warmth.

Y/N’s eyes drifted to the lilac-colored box in Bruce’s hands, wrapped carefully with a white bow on top. “What’s with the box?” they asked, curiosity piqued.

Bruce handed it to them with a slight nod. “You were right. Titus completely demolished your shoes.”

“Seriously?” They raised an eyebrow, half-amused.

“Mmhm. And Alfred’s rose bush,” Bruce added, rubbing his temples as if the memory itself was a headache.

“Oh… no, that one was definitely me,” Y/N admitted, a bit sheepish.

Bruce looked at them incredulously. “You flattened Alfred’s roses?”

“I, uh, fell off the fence,” they mumbled.

“You climbed my fence?” Bruce’s tone shifted slightly, the disbelief clear in his voice.

“How else do you think I got in? I certainly didn’t just waltz through the front gate,” they said with a small grin, carefully peeling back the paper to reveal a New Balance box. “You got me... dad shoes?”

Bruce’s expression remained neutral, but there was a slight arch to his brow. “Dad shoes?”

“Yeah, you know, the stereotypical dad shoes. The kind you’d wear golfing.”

“I don’t golf in sneakers,” Bruce replied, his tone matter-of-fact.

“People do,” they quipped, opening the box to get a better look at the shoes.

“These have excellent arch support,” Bruce pointed out, his voice firm but with an undertone of practicality.

Y/N glanced up at him, a hint of disbelief in their eyes. “Titus ate my Converse, and instead of just replacing them with another pair, you got me... these?”

“They’re durable and better for your knees,” Bruce said, his gaze steady, as if daring them to argue with his logic.

They paused, holding one of the shoes, with a smile. “So, you care about my knee health?”

Bruce met their gaze, his expression unreadable, but his tone was calm. “You’ll thank me when you’re older.”

“I’ll thank you now,” they say with a smile, holding up the shoes. “I think these are pretty neat, even if they’re a little… dated.”

“Dated?” Bruce scoffs, his tone slightly indignant. “They’re the top brand on the S&P.”*

“They’re kinda retro, Wayne.”

“Retro?” Bruce repeats, narrowing his eyes. “How old do you think I am?”

“...When’s your birthday?”

“I’m not disclosing that,” Bruce replies, his tone firm.

“Why not?” they press, amused by his sudden defensiveness.

“Because I don’t do birthdays. And I have a feeling you’d try to surprise me at the office, and I’d rather avoid the attention.”

“You flatter yourself,” they tease, sitting down to try on the shoes.

“You mentioned your birthday is coming up,” Bruce says, slipping the comment in with calculated nonchalance.

“My birthday? You want to know mine but won’t share yours?” they challenge, eyebrows raised.

“Just making conversation,” he replies smoothly, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.

“Uh-huh. Well, can we pick a different topic?” they shift their tone, tugging at the laces. “I haven’t celebrated in four years, and I’m not about to start now.”

Bruce pauses, his smirk fading as he meets their gaze. “Fair enough,” he says, the respect in his voice mingling with a hint of understanding. “But if you change your mind, I’m here.”

“You want to celebrate my 18th birthday with me?” they ask, glancing up at him as they tie the right shoe.

“Turning 18 is a milestone,” Bruce states with quiet authority. “Jason never got that chance.”

They shoot him a sharp look. “You’re really going to bring up my best friend—right in front of his grave—to guilt me into celebrating?” There hand gestures at the imposing concrete headstone, as its eye -to-eye with them.

Bruce’s gaze remains steady, unfazed. “It’s not guilt, Y/N. It’s perspective. Life is fragile, and not everyone gets to see their milestones.”

“Mine are limited, and so are yours,” they fire back, a hint of defiance in their tone.

“That’s exactly why they matter,” Bruce responds, his voice calm but firm, emphasizing each word as if it were a lesson.

“Oh yeah? Then why are you so evasive about your birthday, hm?” Y/N asked, their curiosity piqued.

Bruce’s expression remained inscrutable, though a flicker of annoyance flashed in his eyes. “It’s not evasiveness,” he said firmly. “I just don’t see the point in making a fuss over my birthday.”

“That’s a double standard,” Y/N countered, a hint of exasperation in their voice. “For someone so keen on celebrating life, you’re reluctant to acknowledge your own significance.”

“It’s different, Y/N,” Bruce replied, his tone carrying a hint of finality.

“It’s not different,” they shot back, shaking their head. “It’s a matter of acknowledging what’s important. If I’m going to celebrate my milestones, then you should too.”

Bruce sighed, his frustration evident. “Tell you what,” he said reluctantly, “we’ll celebrate yours when it comes around.”

“And?” Y/N prompted, expecting a bit more.

“That’s it,” Bruce said firmly, as if he’d made a decision that should settle the matter.

“That’s not it,” Y/N laughed, a playful glint in their eye. “If I celebrate mine, you’re going to have to celebrate yours.”

“You’re a pain—almost worse than my kids,” Bruce muttered, though there was a trace of affection in his voice.

“They like to celebrate?” Y/N asked, intrigued.

“Dick does,” Bruce admitted. “But no, I meant your stubbornness.”

“Thank you!” Y/N grinned, clearly pleased.

“That’s not a compliment,” Bruce hummed, though a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, betraying the partial admiration he felt for their persistence.

Y/N finished tying the other shoe and looked down with a playful frown. “I look like I have clown feet,” they complained.

Bruce regarded them with a mix of amusement and practicality. “It’s not about the appearance; it’s about the support,” he said, offering his hand.

Taking his hand, Y/N let him pull them up. Standing a bit taller now with the shoes, they grinned up at him. “So, you got these so I’d be in line with your neck vein?” they teased.

Bruce’s lips twitched slightly, betraying a hint of amusement. “Haha, Very funny, Y/N. I got these because you were headed towards flatfoot. Converse aren’t exactly known for their support.”

“Converse are not terrible shoes,” Y/N countered, still playfully defensive.

“Says who?” Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow.

“2014 Tumblr,” Y/N replied with a smirk.

Bruce looked puzzled. “I don’t even know what that is, nor do I want to,” he said with a hint of dismissive amusement. “You know you might actually appreciate the comfort once you’ve broken them in.”

“I do appreciate them. I just like giving you a hard time,” Y/N hummed with a playful smile.

Bruce huffed dryly, a trace of amusement flickering in his eyes. “Oh, I’m sure you do, kid.”

Y/N bent down to collect the New Balance box and the wrapping paper, carefully shoving it into the large pocket of their bag. As they straightened up, a thought crossed their mind. “You took off work for this?” they asked, a hint of surprise in their voice.

Bruce crossed his arms, his expression neutral but his tone a little more serious. “I can make time when it matters.”

Y/N’s expression softens, and they gently grab Bruce’s hand as they both gaze down at the name etched in stone. “It means a lot,” they say quietly, their voice barely above a whisper.

Bruce’s grip tightens slightly, his thumb brushing over the back of their hand. “I know,” he replies, his tone even, though the weight behind his words is unmistakable.

They stand together in silence, the world around them muted by the gravity of their grief. Y/N’s voice trembles as they speak again, “He was my friend.”

“He is,” Bruce responds without hesitation, his eyes still fixed on the grave, the words carrying a quiet, unwavering conviction.

Y/N’s voice falters, thick with emotion. “He was your son.”

Bruce’s expression doesn’t waver, but there’s a slight softening in his eyes. “He always will be,” he says, his voice steady, as if stating an unchangeable fact.

Tears well up in Y/N’s eyes, and they blink rapidly, trying to hold them back. “I miss him,” they admit, their voice breaking.

Bruce pulls them into his side, wrapping an arm around their shoulders with a strength that’s both protective and comforting. “I know,” he says, his voice low, the words carrying the weight of shared sorrow. “I miss him too.”

Y/N leans into him, their tears starting to fall as the grief they’ve been holding back overwhelms them. “It never goes away,” they sob, their words muffled against his chest.

Bruce tightens his hold on them, his hand moving in slow, soothing circles against their back. “No, it doesn’t,” he agrees, his voice calm and measured, though there’s a depth of feeling beneath it that only someone who knows him well would recognize. “But we learn to live with it.”

They stand there for a long moment, Bruce’s presence solid and unwavering, offering them the quiet strength they need. In the silence, there’s a sense of understanding—an unspoken bond.

₊‧⁺ ⊹₊⟡⋆

Damian Wayne prided himself on his situational awareness and keen observation. Lately, his father had been behaving differently—disappearing for hours on Fridays, far more secretive than usual. Damian couldn’t ignore the shift and was determined to get to the bottom of it.

“Why are we following Bruce around again?” Tim asked, trailing beside Damian and Dick.

“Yeah, I thought you called me for backup over an emergency, Damian,” Dick added, crossing his arms as he followed his younger brothers.

“It *is* an emergency!” Damian hissed, his tone sharp. “Father’s acting weird. And I intend to get to the bottom of it.”

“Weird how? Bruce has always been suspicious and dodgy,” Tim pointed out, raising an eyebrow at Damian.

“It’s different this time!” Damian insisted, his frustration evident.

“Okay, little man, no need to get testy.” Dick ruffled Damian’s hair, a habitual gesture that never failed to annoy him.

“Don’t do that, Grayson,” Damian snapped, swatting Dick’s hand away. There was a significant age gap between them, and Damian always felt the need to assert himself as more than just the youngest.

“Shut up, shut up! They’re right there!” Damian whispered urgently, ducking behind a nearby tombstone.

“Oh hey—Is that Y/N?” Tim asked, squinting at the figures standing in the cemetery. One was unmistakably their father, and the other, a teenager who was familiar to him.

“When you said emergency, I wasn’t expecting lukewarm gossip, Damian,” Dick hummed, leaning casually against the fence, though his eyes betrayed a more serious curiosity.

“Who the hell is Y/N, and why is Father hanging out with them?” Damian growled, narrowing his eyes at the sight.

“I just told you, Y/N Y/L/N, they attend GA with us, they’re two grades above me,” Tim explained, though he knew it wouldn’t satisfy Damian’s questions.

“That doesn’t answer the ‘why,’ Drake,” Damian snapped, his frustration bubbling over.

“Oh wait, whoa whoa—Y/N Y/L/N? Jay’s friend?” Dick’s expression shifted as realization dawned on him.

“Well, that would explain the atmosphere,” Tim said quietly, gesturing to the graveyard.

Damian frowned. He had never met Jason Todd, and the family tragedy surrounding him was something he still struggled to fully grasp. “So?”

“So, the anniversary of his death is coming up,” Dick said, his tone more somber. “They’re probably in mourning.”

Damian’s expression faltered, his usual bravado dimming slightly. The weight of what Dick said hung heavily in the air.

Tim stood silently for a moment, then, without a word, started walking through the fence to join Bruce and Y/N. Dick, catching Tim’s intent, followed, but paused when Damian grabbed his wrist.

“Grayson, where are you going? Where’s he going?” Damian demanded, his voice tinged with confusion.

“We’re already here, Damian. Might as well pay our respects too,” Dick said gently, looking down at his youngest brother.

“He was our brother,” Dick added softly, the words carrying a gravity that Damian couldn’t ignore. “You’re welcome to stay out here if it makes you uncomfortable. But the family is in there.”

Damian hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. “Alfred’s not,” he said indignantly, trying to regain some control of the situation.

“But he would be if he were here,” Dick replied, his voice gentle but firm. “We all mourn in our own way, Damian. You don’t have to go in if you’re not ready.”

Damian’s gaze flicked between Dick and the figures at the gravesite, his usual resolve shaken. After a moment, he released Dick’s wrist, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.

“Fine,” Damian muttered, his voice quieter now. “But don’t expect me to get all emotional.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Dick said with a small smile, giving Damian a reassuring pat on the back before following Tim through the fence.

Damian lingered for a moment longer, his eyes narrowing as he watched his brothers join Bruce and Y/N. Then, with a deep breath, he steeled himself and followed, his steps slower, more deliberate. The weight of the moment pressed down on him, but for the first time, he didn’t feel the need to fight it.

After all, as much as he hated to admit it, maybe he was starting to understand what it meant to be part of this family.

Tim stepped up beside Y/N, his presence calm and reassuring. He gave them a soft nod of acknowledgment, his eyes flickering with understanding as he noticed the tears and the way they leaned against his father. Tim didn’t need words to convey his support; his silent companionship was enough.

Dick moved to stand beside Bruce, resting a hand on the older man’s shoulder. A shared look of understanding passed between them, one that spoke volumes without a single word. This moment was heavy, but they had each other, and that made all the difference.

Finally, Damian squeezed between Dick and Bruce, his small frame nestling close to his father’s side. His sharp eyes narrowed slightly at Y/N’s closeness, a flicker of something protective crossing his face. He discreetly clung to Bruce’s sleeve, a silent claim of territory that only someone as observant as Damian would make.

Y/N’s gaze shifted to the Wayne siblings, their eyes widening a fraction in surprise to see all of them here. The sight of the entire brood gathered around Jason’s grave added a weight to the moment that they hadn’t expected.

Pennyworth’s steps were light as he approached, his presence as impeccable as ever. Despite his age, Alfred carried himself with a dignity and grace that belied his years. He stood behind the five, a steady pillar of support. “I don’t suppose any of you brought an offering?” he teased lightly, his tone gentle yet playful.

Bruce’s normally stoic eyes softened, a rare warmth bubbling up from his chest as he glanced at Alfred. “Figured that’s your department,” he responded, a hint of affection in his voice.

“White lilies, daffodils, and forget-me-nots,” Alfred announced, setting the beautifully bound bouquet in front of the grave with care. His selection was thoughtful, each flower chosen with intention and meaning.

“It’s quite beautiful… A shame they’ll wither,” Y/N said softly, their voice tinged with melancholy.

“All things wither with time, dear. That doesn’t make them any less meaningful,” Alfred replied with gentle wisdom, his tone reassuring.

Y/N shot Bruce a look, a mix of surprise and familiarity in their eyes. “Someone gave me an eerily similar speech,” they remarked, their lips quirking into a small, knowing smile.

“I did. My wisdom comes from somewhere,” Bruce acknowledged, his voice carrying the weight of years of experience.

Alfred gave a wink and a nod, his expression warm to Y/N before his attention shifts to Dick. “I didn’t expect you to be here, Master Richard,” he said, his tone affectionate.

“Ah, I left Blüdhaven in good hands for the night,” Dick replied with a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Wouldn’t miss a reunion for the world.”

Bruce’s gaze swept over his family, the people who had become his anchors in this world of shadows and loss. In moments like this, he was reminded of what he fought for—what they all fought for. The past could never be undone, but standing here together, they honored it, even as they looked toward the future.

And for a moment, in the quiet of the cemetery, with the scent of flowers lingering in the air and the presence of loved ones all around, the Wayne family found a fleeting sense of peace.

⊹₊⟡⋆ ⊹₊⟡⋆ ⊹₊⟡⋆

*(Please note New Balance is not actually on the S&P because its not publicly traded, I just thought it was a comical interaction)

⊹₊⟡⋆ ⊹₊⟡⋆ ⊹₊⟡⋆

Approx. Word Count: 2,917

pt I - pt II - pt III (coming soon)

//Series Tag List: Available Upon Request!

⊹₊⟡⋆ ⊹₊⟡⋆ ⊹₊⟡⋆

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Status Page (2024): Here

[fictionalmenxyn]

🂱𝐑𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧🂱

Pairing: redhood!rafe x Wayne!reader

Warnings: p in v, no mentions of protection (protect!), pet names, dirty talk, spanking, language and possessive

𝐑𝐑𝐑

It was yet another night of patrolling for you. In your black combat boots and pants with your dark grey hoodie and black tactical vest and belt along with your domino mask. You searched the streets on your own. Usually you were with your father, Bruce Wayne. But he had Justice League matters to attend to.

So on your motor bike you zoomed through the dark and rainy streets of Gotham. Your helmet collecting rain droplets as you speed through the streets.

Your hearing caught your attention of something. Commotion, finally, your night isn’t so boring after all.

You tilted your bike to the side as you spun your bike around. Speeding into the direction of the commotion.

We park your bike near by and hide your helmet behind some trash cans. You go on foot. As you make your way over you double check your knives. Since your dad doesn’t like ‘killing’.

You peak around a corner, seeing a woman getting mugged by two guys.

You headed over, running as fast as you can. I tackled the one to the ground. Starting to punch him a few times till the other on pulled you off the goon. You elbowed the one behind and flipped. Your on the guys shoulders as you elbow his head. He shoved you into the wall. Causing you to fall off of his shoulders. I threw one of your knives into the guys thighs. He yelled out in back “fuck you! I know you! You’re Batman’s sidekick!”

You laughed “no, no… I’m my own person…” you lunged at the guy and placed a knife to his throat. He froze, you smirked “what were you saying??” The other guy was about to grab you. That’s when you head two gun shots fire. You quickly go to the woman and cover her the best you can. You look over your shoulder to see the two goons dead in the alley.

You grabbed the woman’s things and told her “stay in the light, find people and get home safe, yeah?” You hand her things and watch as she runs away.

You see a figure at the end of the street, holding a gun up. Pointing at you.

You raised your hands, still holding a bat-a-rang you had grabbed moments ago. The person seems to froze. The deep voice asked “where’d you get that?” You looked to the bat-a-rang then back to the figure “what’s it to you?”

“My past…”

The guy stepped forward. The dim light coming from the street behind you showing you who the man was, Red Hood. Your eyes widened ever so slightly “Red Hood? What’re you doing here?” He spoke under the helmet “patrolling, same as you… you didn’t answer the question, doll”

The voice seems familiar, a little too familiar. You answered “a friend…” the guy asked “friend?? Or family??” You gulped. How’d he know? Has he seen me before? Why does his voice sound so familiar?

You counteracted “how’s this from your past?” He replied briefly “used to use them..” you asked “how come?” “Doesn’t your dad have many Robins?” Your eyes widen. “R-Rafe…? No… can’t be… you’re-” “a dead man, yeah, I’ve heard it before…”

You couldn’t believe it, once you two were inseparable. You attended his funeral, walked to his grave every other day. Checking his flowers were fresh. You would kiss his headstone before leaving. Before his death, you two were attached to the hip. People would think you two were each other’s first love. But you were friends… Bruce could tell there was more.

Rafe spoke “hey, seeetheart…mind putting the stuff down?” You were snapped out of your thoughts. Seeing his gun was in a holster. You put your bat-a-rang into your tactical belt.

You stuttered “h-how? I-I visited you-your grave almost every day? Rafe… I-i cried for a week when dad didn’t come back with you…” he nodded and slowly approached. “I did die… but I’m back now… it’s a long story for another day… y-you really did all that?” He was now only inches away from you.

Both of you being older now, you could see just from his height and form, how much he’s grown. Whereas you stopped growing at fifteen. He towered over you, easily. You nodded “all of it was true… I made sure I did… if I was busy with homework I got Alfred to remind me after to go visit…” Rafe smiled softly under the mask. A first time after his death.

He place a hand on your hip “you’ve grown up…” you chuckle softly “so have you… probably more than me… still can’t see that face I’ve kissed for years…”

He chuckled lowly “maybe you can see it… but not out here, too risky…”

You nodded completely understanding, since it’d be risky for you too. You asked “would you uh… wanna come back to the Manor…? I know you probably wouldn’t want-” “yes, sweetheart, I’ll come back with you…” he joked lightly “still in the same place, right?” You smiled softly and nodded.

You both got on your bikes and sped through the streets once again.

𝐑𝐑𝐑

You both sat in your room. Your big bag windows over looking the backyard and forest in the back. The rain heavily pours and creating the perfect background noise for your catch up session with Rafe.

You had Alfred find some spare clothes for Rafe. He, now in some black sweatpants and a dark grey gym shirt, sat on your bed. You had changed into some grey sweatpants and a baggy black sweatshirt. You sat on your desk chair (that has wheels). Crossed legged as you talk with Rafe.

Rafe would check you out as you talked, you not minding one bit. Considering he used to do it all the time, so it felt familiar. He was back. We were back…

He placed both his hands on the arms of your desk chair and wheeled you closer. So you were right up against the bed and between his legs. He smirked “so, since I haven’t seen you in a while, why don’t we cut to the chase and you give me one of those magically kisses you used to give when I would be injured after patrol.”

You smiled softly, leaning forward and softly kissing his lips. He lifted you up with ease and put you on his lap. Placing a hand on the back of your head as he deepened the kiss. Your tongues clashing as he claims dominance. He groaned into the kiss, kissing the taste of your cherry lips. He felt like you have brought him back to life.

You felt his hard on as you continued to sit in his lap. His hands moving to your ass and softly squeezing them. He pulled away to get some air. Pressing his forehead to yours. He whispers “ever since I came back… you were on my mind… all the god damn time… wanted to find you sooner, without your dad…” you nodded. He smirked “thought about you in so many different ways…” you whispered “yeah? What way was your favourite?”

He chuckled lowly “you under me, baby… loved cuddling you… but we are grown up now, I want more…” he grabbed your hips and rocked you against his hard on. You gasped softly.

Rafe smirked “you want it?” You nodded “missed you so much…” he pecked your lips. Mumbling against your lips “missed you too.. wanna feel you all over, yeah?” You nodded.

Soo enough you were both naked, you laid in the middle of your large silk black bed. He hovered over you. You glanced down at him. Fuck was he huge…

He smirked “want it, baby doll?” You nodded “want you…” he moved his tip against you. Moving it up and down along your entrance. Causing you to softly moan. He pushed the tip in, groaning as he started to fill you up.

He gripped your hips, he looked down at your chest. Fuck did he love your chest, but what caught his eye. Wasn’t your boobs, but the necklace you wore. The same gold necklace with the letter J on it. The one he gave you on Valentine’s Day when one of your shitty not so boyfriend dumped you. He knew it would make you happy. So that’s why he got it. But after his death he didn’t expect you to keep it on.

It made him twitch inside you, seeing such a memorable thing still on you. Made him want you as his, no one else’s.

He slowly started to grind into you, you moaning softly. He groaned “fuck… you’re so tight, baby… feel so fucking good…”

You moaned “Rafe…mmm so big… missed you, Rafey…” he groaned and bucked a little harder at the old nickname “missed you too, gorgeous…”

He started to pick up his pace, ever so slightly. Causing you to become a moaning mess. He grabbed the bottom of your thighs and pushed them up more. Going deeper into you, filling you more. His long, slow yet deep thrusts made your mind fuzzy. No one has ever been like this.

The past relationships you’ve had, mostly wanted you to be closer to your dad. So they never really took care of you in that sense. That’s why when you dad noticed your ‘partners’ wasn’t treating you right. He’d have a very stern conversation and kick them out.

Rafe kept going. You moaned “feels sooo good, Rafe… mmm”

He smirked, pecking your cheek and talking against it “yeah? Like my big cock filling you up?… fits so perfect, might be made for each other, hm?” You nodded “yess…” Rafe smirked against your cheek. Then his jaw fell agape when you tightens around him. He moaned against your cheek “fuck, baby, wanna take my time with you… make you feel good… wanna make you mine, how’d that sound? Hm?”

You nodded “wanted it…. For so long…” he grinned “me too, baby… wanna have you as mine, mine to touch… mine to take… mine to love and take care of… to protect…” you moaned.

Rafe started to speed up, the sound of your breathing and squelching starting to fill the big room. The sound of the rain making it surprisingly more intimate. You both loved rain. You’d cuddle for hours talking about go knows what.

You moaned as he started to pick up the pace. “Feel so good, sweetheart… gonna take you as mine, yeah? You’d like that, huh? I’d be the best for ya” you put your hands on his shoulder blades. Digging your nails into his shoulders slightly. His hips stuttered for a moment. Your nails feeling good against his hot skin.

You both started to feel it coming on. Almost at the edge. Rafe gently spanked your ass “gonna come for me, Pretty?” You nodded “yesss!” He smirked “good girl. Come all over me, yeah?” You nodded.

You moaned his name one last time before squeezing against his big hard cock. Finish on him. He keeps his money as he feels his climax approaching. He moaned “fuck… where’d you want me, baby?” You gasped “inside!” He moaned “fuck, you sure??” You nodded “on… the pill…” he nodded.

He gave one more big thrust as he fills you up. Finishing inside of you, just like you asked. He groaned as he slows his pace then comes to a stop.

He gently pulls out, looking down to see the mess you both caused. He could honestly get hard again at the sight. He patted your ass “good job, babe…”

That’s when he squeezed your hand, that’s also when you realised he hand been holding your hand the whole time. God he had a soft spot for you, always had. But Rafe was always like this for you. And showing you all his love was always one of his favourite missions.

You looked at him, breathless and satisfied. He leaned down and kissed your lips softly. Pulling away he asked “so? Is it true? You wanna be mine again? But more this time?” You nodded “forever and always…” he smiled. His first time feeling truly happy after his ‘accident’.

𝐑𝐑𝐑

[blackreaderfics]

Checking In | Dick Grayson x Black!BatsisReader

↳ Pairing : Dick Grayson x Black!AFAB!BatsisReader

↳ Rating :  E (18+ minors dni‼️)

↳ Summary : After your brother Jason’s death, Dick Grayson keeps “checking in” on you. But as far as you’re concerned, he no longer has any right to be a part your life.

↳ W.C : ~5.2k

↳ Tags+Warnings : faux incest - step siblings (direct mentions), mild angst, hate(?)to love, sexual tension, not Titans DC!verse I just like the actor lol, canon divergence: set after Jason Todd’s death and before Red Hood, reader is a model (body type unspecified), referenced stalking, oral (f receiving), P in V sex, degradation (slut, whore), implied daddy kink, porn with plot!, special guest appearance by Booster Gold

“Hot date tonight?” 

You felt your eyes roll back into your head at the sound of the male voice that trilled like a mosquito in your ear. Fucking hell, you muttered a curse under your breath. After your shift of late-night vigilante duties, you always seemed to forget to take out your in-ear receiver. 

What was that thing Alfred always told you about breathing exercises? You took a deep breath, allowing yourself to quell your irritation.  In. 1. 2. 3. Out. 1. 2. 3. 

“No action tonight, dick?” You rebutted. 

“I can hear when it’s a lowercase ‘D’, Y/N. ” Unlike yours, his voice betrayed no hostility, rather, he sounded quite amused.

You and Dick Grayson had never been close. In fact, you thought of him as more a stranger than a stepbrother. Bruce Wayne had adopted you into the family after Dick had already packed his bags and moved out of the manor to Blüdhaven. The only times you saw Dick was when somebody died and you had to attend the funeral. 

You didn’t grow up with him like you had Jason. And now that Jason was gone, it was suddenly like the golden “boy wonder” had been trying to squeeze himself into your life to make up for it. Ever since the detective had arrived in Gotham last week on “private business”— whatever, you didn’t want or care to know—he’d been “checking in” on you a bit too often.

“Are you making small talk ‘cuz you’re bored or are you just being annoying?”

“I’m in the middle of something actually.”

You stilled to listen closely, and now that he mentioned it, it did sound like he was in the middle of a fight. 

“Well, I would offer to help you but— ”you paused, wincing at what sounded like a man being punched in the gut. “—seems like you got it covered.”

“More than covered, sweetheart. Unlike what you’re wearing.” He made it sound like he was joking; though, the remark itself had bite.

“What?” What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

“That dress. Seems a little much for a first date don’t you think?”

You heard a yelp of pain in the background. Dick probably had some guy’s arm twisted around. 

“How the fuck would you know what I’m wearing? Or that I’m going on a date?”

You eyed the room while putting on the other half of your earrings. The idea of privacy wasn’t exactly a thing at Wayne Manor. That was the whole reason you moved out and into your penthouse apartment in the city. 

If for some reason he had seen you, he would’ve seen your figure in a slinky black mini-dress. A tasteful, but still unapologetic show of legs, cocoa skin, and cleavage all in one. 

“That guy plastered you on a billboard in the middle of Gotham. So, y’know, doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. And relax, your comms was on. You ever notice that you talk to yourself? Like a lot.”

He was about to be talking to himself if he didn’t shut the fuck up soon.

Ok, breathe. In. 1. 2. 3. Out. 1. 2. 3.

You were violently broken out of your breathing exercise when a screaming welp and cracking of bones sounded through the earpiece. 

Dick spoke again, slightly winded. “Bruce say you could wear that?”

“Yes, Dick. Actually, he’s the one that bought it for me,” You deadpanned, voice dripping with sarcasm. Besides the fact that the old man would not give a flying fuck about your wardrobe, you were way too old to be slutshamed or worse, babysat.

“Now I know you’re fucking with me. He has way better taste than that.” You could hear the mirth in his voice; he was clearly just trying to banter with you.

“Oh like you would know anything about taste, Discowing.”

“…”

You got him there.

“Just make sure—”

“Good night, Richard.” You closed the line before he could give you another lecture and pocketed the listening device into your purse. 

You regarded yourself in the mirror one last time. It was a certified banger of an outfit, went quadruple platinum in all the clubs in Gotham’s nightlife scene. But that’s not where you were going tonight.

Feeling a little paranoid, you quickly scanned your apartment for any sign that you’d been bugged. Finding nothing, you shut the lights and locked the door behind you. Tonight you did have a date, with one of Gotham’s most eligible bachelors at that. So you were going to look hot and that annoying buzzing in your ear was just going to have to deal with it.

A sleek Tesla was waiting for you at the curb in front of your apartment building. You gave a small wave to a handsome blonde-haired man leaning against the sports car.

Your date was Michael Carter, some hotshot tech CEO you’d never heard of before until his company, Goldstar Inc. blew up out of nowhere. From what you knew of him he wasn’t as famous or rich as your billionaire adoptive father, but what he lacked in influence, he made up for in boundless persistence.

For the past month and a half, he’d been courting you with bouquets of roses, designer shoes and handbags, and more recently a billboard of you in the middle of Times Square asking you out. The billboard was what made you finally go out with him, not particularly because you liked grandiose gestures from douchebags, but mostly so he could leave you alone.

When you approached Michael he let out an appreciative whistle, and you let him wrap his arms around you in greeting. He looked down at you, appraising you and probably getting an eyeful of your tits at the same time.

“You are an absolute knockout. Who’s the lucky guy?” He quipped, eliciting an eye roll from you. 

Yes, he was also very corny but you decided you liked that about him. You’d dated too many men before that reminded you of the men in your family, and this Michael character was a blonde spark of life, a welcomed change from all the brooding and the fucking bats.

“Hope I didn’t make you wait too long.”

“Oh, I don’t mind waiting. Got a lot of time on my hands.”

You smiled up at him, steadying yourself on his arms and feeling the muscle underneath your fingertips. You had to admit, even though he was corny he was complete eye candy. Built like a football player, dimples, pretty face…Yep, you were definitely going to fuck him tonight.

Your eye caught sight of something from over Michael’s shoulder. You shuddered; not because of the temperature—It was a warm enough summer night— but because you could feel that you were being watched. There was… a shadow… lurking on a nearby building.

Michael followed your line of sight to peer over at the dark, confused at where you were staring. 

“Something the matter, princess? You cold?” He rubbed some heat into the goosebumps pebbling your arm.

“N-no. It’s nothing. Sorry,” You shook your head, breaking away from him to climb into the passenger seat, swiftly shutting your door before he could offer to close it for you. He scrambled back to the driver’s seat, clearly caught off guard from your sudden change in demeanor.

“How about we—” Michael turned toward you, mouth open in mid-sentence.

“Drive.” You cut him off.

“Excuse me, what?” He blinked in confusion. 

“Now.” 

“A-alright.” He paused, perplexed, then quietly obeyed, gripping the steering wheel as he pulled away from the curb. 

You fished into your purse, opening your messaging app to type out DON’T FOLLOW before hitting send. You didn’t need to see the reply to confirm your suspicions you were being stalked, and you knew Dick Grayson well enough to know he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t. 

You frowned at the empty seat in front of you. You had already arrived at the restaurant and taken your orders, but your date had been taking a “business call” in the bathroom for over 20 minutes now. You were starting to think you had been ditched.

“This seat taken?” 

You looked up but instead of your date you were greeted by the sight of Dick Grayson in a crisp navy button-down rolled up at the sleeves. He looked like he could be a CEO in his own right, like the kind of CEOs people read in romance novels.

His forearms looked extremely capable, courtesy of his rigorous training; Broad shoulders and dense muscle made his shirt fit slightly too small. He cleaned up nice, a bit too nice since other women kept sneaking glances at your table. 

Dick was an undeniably handsome man, but you would never admit that to him. Instead you gave him a withering glare.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing but whatever it is, I didn’t ask.”

“So a guy can’t catch up with family after work now?” He sat down in front of you with a look feigning offense until it melted into a playful grin. He looked a bit too smug taking the spot of where your date would’ve been.

“You’re really shameless y’know that? You showing up and expecting me to just welcome you with open arms does not make you family.” You leaned back and crossed your arms. “What the hell did you do with Michael, Dick?”

“What did I do? What, you think I killed him? Like on some mobster Falcone shit?” 

“No, like on some Bruce Wayne shit. Real chip off the old block.” You scoffed. “I know you paid him off. It’s the same story with every other guy I’ve dated.”

He was silent as if mulling over whether or not to own up to the accusation.“I gave them an option and they took it,” he said simply as if there wasn't anything wrong with what he just confessed.

“And here I thought I was the problem.”

“Might be. If you keep choosing guys that’ll walk out on you at the whiff of a few bucks.”

“Fuck you, Dick.” You shot him two middle fingers and gathered your things to go. You weren’t gonna stay and hear this shit.

“They were all full of shit and you know it.”

“D-did anyone order the steak?” 

Dick broke his serious gaze from you and flashed a dimpled smile to ease the nervous waiter.

“We’ll take it to-go, thanks.”

You watched your 5th Uber request get denied and sighed. You really didn’t want to have to resort to getting the Wayne driver, but these were incredibly desperate times. Maybe if you faked being in danger, they could get to you fast enough to escape from Dick.

You were in the middle of dialing the number up when you felt something heavy across your back; The smell of leather, wood, and spice interrupted your thoughts. You didn’t refuse the warmth; it was welcome. Somehow it had gotten colder than you had originally accounted for.

“Really good thing I was here. Looks like someone needs a ride,” you felt Dick whisper into your ear. He gave your shoulders a playful squeeze and walked ahead of you to his car. You looked up just in time to see him, head turned and smirking back at you.

“Shut. Up. Just take me home,” You gritted out.

“Your chariot awaits.” He tipped an invisible top hat your direction, bowing theatrically as he opened the passenger door to his car. God he was annoying. You slipped past him, and kicked off your heels as soon as you hit the plush leather seat.

The drive back to your apartment was quiet. You weren’t surprised that he seemed to know exactly where you lived. Which, due to the nature of your job was to be expected. Bruce probably had you all chipped anyway, but you appreciated the illusion of privacy at the very least.

You turned your head to stare thoughtfully at his side profile as he drove, one hand on the steering wheel, the other arm resting on the shift. It was oddly intimate to watch him from this perspective. Gotham City’s lights waxed and waned across his face as you passed through the night streets.

“What?” He seemed uncharacteristically conscious under your gaze. 

“So…you’re saying I need to date some sort of incorruptible and righteous superhero. That would be good enough for you, right? Someone that can’t be bought or bribed?”

He glanced at you brow furrowed before returning his attention to the road. “Wasn't saying that.”

“Now that I’m thinking about it Hal Jordan’s kinda cute.”

“Real classy, Y/N,” He said, visibly irritated now.

“What? What’s wrong with Hal?” You pressed, knowing you’d struck a nerve. Dick was terribly predictable and fun to annoy when he wasn’t busy annoying you.

“Uh I don’t know, maybe the fact that he’s Bruce’s friend?”

“Please, they’re barely friends. Coworkers at best.”  Since when was that an issue for the dude who hooked up with the commissioner’s daughter anyway? The hypocrisy was truly baffling.

“No.”

“Fine,” You pouted at him. “Everyone cares about money, Dick. It’s Gotham. And you don’t even live here anymore, so who else does that leave that money won’t sway? Alfred?”

He gave you a pointed silence, not in any more mood for the topic of conversation. “We’re here.”

You blinked, surprised. Sure enough, you were in the familiar surroundings of your parking garage. Maybe you’d been too busy staring at the cut of the older man’s jaw to notice you were already home.

“You’re not gonna walk me up? ‘Cuz If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought you were my personal bodyguard.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” 

“Cockblocker.” You muttered under your breath as you scuffed your heels back on. You shrugged out of his jacket and exited the car.

“Hey, wait! Keep the jacket on, it’s cold,” He called after you, but you only waved him off dismissively. You heard his car door slam shut and in a few strides, he was next to you again, draping the jacket over your shoulders.

He wordlessly joined you in the elevator, pushing the button to your floor like he'd been there before. At the door of your apartment, he passed along the plastic bag filled with restaurant takeout.

You briefly considered the raven haired man and then the takeout bag in your hand. “I’m probably gonna regret this, but…you hungry?”

“I could eat,” Dick shrugged, following after you into your apartment. 

You kicked off your heels and made a beeline to the kitchen. “Bathroom’s on the right. Just make yourself at home. I would give you a tour but, you probably already know your way around.”

“Thanks, but it’s the first time I’ve been in here, Y/N.” He replied drily, hands stuffed in his pockets. “Look, I know you don’t trust me, but I wouldn’t do that, ok?”

You only hummed, not really believing him. Dick Grayson wasn’t the type to lie, he was the type to withhold. 

You set down your bag on the kitchen table, reaching into the cupboard. “Wine?”

He jingled his car keys as an answer. 

“Ah. Right. ‘Protect and serve’ not ‘drink and drive’, got it.”

Dick seemed to be paying a lot of attention to the knickknacks on your shelf. You watched him pick up a few photo frames, inspect them closely for a bit and then carefully set them back In their places.

“You’re making my living room look like a crime scene, officer.” You chided strolling in closer. “What, are you gonna need a baggie for that evidence too?”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, humored. “I didn’t know you liked photography is all.”

“Yea well, there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

“I know enough.”

“Like what?”

He looked around the room and then settled on the books and magazines stacked on your coffee table. “You’re into fashion.”

“Well yea, I’m a model, Dick. Not exactly breaking news,” You scoffed. “You sure you’re a detective?”

He broke into a grin, the kind of grin that made the dimples in his cheeks deepen. It was like he genuinely liked when you made fun of him. “Well, I also know you also have terrible taste in men so…”

“Have you considered that maybe I just wanted to get laid?”

“No, and I hope that never crosses my mind." He made a face like the very thought disturbed him. "Besides, you don’t want that.”

You chose to ignore the blatant patronizing. “Not a want; It’s a need. A biological one. Girls have those too y’know.”

“Ugh alright, can we change the subject now, please?” He wrinkled his nose, cheeks faintly flushed. It would’ve been so easy to tease him about how cute he looked blushing.

“You’re the one that brought it up.”

“I did not bring that up. I’m…just saying that I know you’re not that type of girl.”

“Not that type of—And what would that be?” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“The one-night stand type. That’s not you.”

“How would you know what I am and what I’m not?” You retorted, agitation building. Getting date-ditched was one thing but getting mansplained to about your sex life was just the cherry on top of a shitty Saturday night.

“I know you,” He spoke slowly with an edge that confirmed your suspicions; The tone in his voice was backed by knowledge of your history—who you were before Bruce rescued you out of that hell and scrubbed your background clean.

“More like you’ve been stalking me. That’s not fair, Dick. You can look up all the data you want on me on that supercomputer but you don’t get to know me. It’s—it’s too late for that.”

You thought about Jason and how he was ripped away from you too soon. Tears fell faster than you could stop them. One second you were ok and the next, Dick had crossed the room to bring you into his arms. You fisted his shirt as you cried into his shoulder.

“You weren’t here. You left. You left us.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” He comforted softly, tightening his arms around you.

“That’s not fair, Dick. It’s not fair.” You can’t remember the last time you cried this pathetically. He was rocking you gently now, whispering apologies in your ear.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Y/N. I’m gonna make it right.” 

He gazed at you now, a sadness in his eyes. You wondered what exactly he meant by that. The only way to make it right was to bring Jason back. 

He gently held your face in his hands, thumbs swiping away stray tears. Years of training had calloused his fingers and you could feel them now against your cheeks.

“Let me make it up to you. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

His soothing voice released flutters in your stomach—a bubbling concoction of fear, anticipation, and…something more. 

Inhale. 1. 2. 3.

Your breathing became shallow as he brought his head down, lips hesitant before yours. When you didn’t move away he brushed against you, softly first, waiting for permission until your eyes fluttered closed and you finally let him in.

Your cheeks burned. Something about kissing him made you embarrassed or maybe you were ashamed, like you knew you were doing something you shouldn’t.

You fumbled out of his jacket, now too hot, and pawed frantically at the buttons on his shirt. He kissed you with more passion, swallowing your moans as his hands shamelessly roamed your body, groping and grabbing handfuls of your ass. 

“Bedroom. My bedroom.” You said quickly between fraught kisses. If you hadn’t, he would’ve probably taken you right there on the sofa.

He nodded in agreement, picking you up with ease and swiftly treading to your room with you in tow. He set you on the bed and resumed where he left off until you were lying under him. That’s when you could feel him, all of him, pressing against you. 

“‘m gonna make you feel good.” 

Ripples of abs and lean muscle ground against you as he kissed down your neck. You gasped softly when his hand moved to rub you over the cloth of your panties.

“Wanna see you. Please, let me see you.”

He tugged the top of your dress down, undoing the clasp of your bra and revealing to him the peaks of your tawny nipples. You inhaled sharply, watching him take your breast into his mouth, eyes on you, as he licked and sucked.

You writhed under him, already overwhelmed by everything he was doing to you. He snaked his hand back into the front of your now-soaked panties, rubbing at first and then inserting a finger, then two until you were stretching around him.

“So wet for me, my pretty girl. Look at you milking my fingers in this slutty little dress. You were gonna let him do this to you, right? You were gonna let him finger your pussy too huh, baby?”

You whimpered his name, eyes wide as he continued to speak with his fingers squelching in and out of you. Normal, everyday Dick Grayson had the image of being a “nice guy”. He was probably that neighbor you’d ask to borrow sugar from; You would never expect to hear such dirty words coming from his mouth.

He hiked up the skirt of your dress some more and brought your hips to his face.

“Let me take care of you, huh? Let me take care of this pretty little cunt.”

You cursed softly, as he began to kiss and suck around your clit as he fingered you.

“Fuck,” He groaned, “You taste so good, baby.”

He lapped at your cunt, making lewd slurps and noises. When he removed his fingers, he replaced them with his tongue and the sensation made you squirm.

“Quit moving so much. Didn’t you say you wanted to get laid? Don’t you want me to eat you out?”

“Y-yes. I want—Mmhfuck.” You nodded, finally finding some semblance of language. The way he spoke down to you was so agonizingly frustrating. It reminded you how patronizing he'd been earlier that night, telling you to cover up and dictating your life for you.

“You haven’t been fucked in a while, huh?” He mocked. “That’s why you were gonna let some guy you met today fuck you—Such a fucking slut that’s why you wore that, right?”

You whined at his words, bucking to earn some more friction from him.

“Holy shit, you like that? You like when I call you a slut.” His smile grew as if he just made a huge discovery. “Yea, ‘course you like it. Should’ve spread your legs on that billboard that guy bought. Let Gotham see how much of a fucking whore you are.”

Your cheeks warmed in embarrassment. You felt betrayed by the physical reaction you gave with how crudely he was speaking. He'd figured you out; You liked being treated like a cockdumb slut.

He planted a few more kisses on your thigh, unbuckling his pants with a free hand.

“Wait for me, babe. Touch yourself and wait for me like a good girl.”

You obeyed, rubbing at your throbbing mound to no avail. Your fingers didn’t feel as good as his did. 

He freed his cock from his underwear and you could see it now, leaking beads of precum from the tip, swollen and bobbing up against his well-defined stomach. Your mouth watered, you wanted to feel all of him on your tongue. But when you reached for him, he brought your fingers up to his mouth instead, sucking the pussy juices off your fingertips. He kissed your knuckles and returned your hand to you.

“Keep those pretty fingers busy, sweetheart.”

He stroked slowly, watching you tentatively squeeze one of your breasts, your other hand rubbing and dipping between your folds. 

“Fuck you’re so fucking beautiful.” He groaned before he kneeled to position himself between your legs, aligning himself at your entrance.

“You just need a cock to fill you up, doesn’t matter which one, huh? That’s what you wanted, right?”

He rubbed himself against you, tip occasionally catching on a soft divot, but not fully being inserted inside.

“You’d even let your stepbrother fuck you, huh? That’s how much of a dirty little slut you are.”

You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, a mixture of humiliation, frustration, and desire. How could your body like it so much when he was being so vulgar, so mean?

“Please, I need—“ You panted, trying to push yourself onto his cock for release.

“Mmh? Speak up, princess. What do you need?” 

“F-fill me up. I need you to fill me up.” 

“Only good girls get filled up Y/N. But you’ve been talking back to me all day like a fucking brat. You gonna be a good girl for me, baby?

You nodded dumbly in agreement. He pushed inside you a little deeper, only to take it out again.

“P—lease, I’ll be good. Just—need you inside.”

If only the patients at Arkham Asylum could see you now. They’d probably grab front-row seats to see you pathetically begging for some cock. 

“You could barely take my fingers, princess. You sure it’ll fit?”

He was right. It was a tighter fit than you anticipated, but you could feel him now hot and pulsating as he stretched you out.

“You’re doing so well for me, baby. C’mon you can take it.” He cooed, muttering curses to himself until he finally bottomed out, fully seated inside you.

You moaned, holding onto his forearms as he rutted in and out of you. You could see his length disappear and reappear with every thrust, gathering a ring of your cream around his base.

“How do you feel princess?” He grunted out, pace quickening. “How does it feel to have me balls deep inside that tight little cunt?”

“It. Feels. So. Goo—Ahmmhfuck.” You clenched around him, voice vibrating with every thrust.

“Fuck, you’re milking me, sweetheart.” He laughed, voice smug. “You’ve thought about this before, haven’t you. Fuck, you’re so fucking dirty. You been thinking about my cock filling you up huh? Being my personal fleshlight? It’s everything you ever dreamed of right?” 

You could tell he was enjoying this, enjoying degrading you as you laid helpless underneath him, your release depending entirely on him. It was infuriating that he had this much power over you, but the amount of pleasure he was currently giving you superseded your pride.

He pushed your thighs back as he went deeper into an unforgiving mating press, knees by your ears, not caring that you weren’t as flexible as he was. 

“Such a good girl taking my cock so well. Wanted this for so long. You’re so pretty. You’re so fucking pretty. You feel so good; so good for me.”

He moaned into your ear, placing sloppy kisses at your mouth and jaw.

“This pussy’s made for me. You’re made for me. I’m the only one who can make you feel this good.”

You felt his balls smack heavily against your ass as he continued to pound his fat cock into your sensitive cunt, reaching your G-spot.

“Whose is it, baby? Whose pussy is it? Please, baby. Say it’s mine. Just for me.”

“I-it’s yours. O-only. Yours.”  You gasped out, feeling a warmth blooming at the apex of your thighs as you came unraveled underneath him.

His length twitched as he unloaded thick ropes of cum inside you, some of it leaking out and down your ass as he thrusted deeper.

"That's right, take my cum. Take it, it's yours. It's all yours."

He continued to fuck his cum into you until your walls squeezed around him, coaxing out every last drop.

It was morning now and sunlight peeked out from between the gaps in your curtains. You grounded yourself back into your senses. Your satin pillowcase cooled your cheek, but there was an unfamiliar warmth pinning you down—an arm wrapped around your waist.

He was half-hard now, erection resting lightly against the plump of your ass. You could feel his chest rising and falling, warm against your back as he slept. Deep breaths in. 1. 2. 3. Out. 1. 2. 3.

You liked the way you fit together, your soft curves snug against his hardened body.

You turned a little to try and meet his eyes but your stirring only prompted soft kisses at your shoulder, and a strong arm pulling you ever closer, willing you not to leave the bed.

“Good morning.” He said between nips and kisses, intertwining fingers in yours. “What do you want for breakfast, beautiful?”

“Hmm? You’re still here.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“‘m still here.” He mumbled against your neck. His morning voice became noticeably deeper when sleep still clung to it. 

“Not a one night stand type of guy?”

He chuckled softly, the contented sound losing itself in the groove of your shoulder. 

“Nope. More like one night and one morning stand.”

You smiled at the terrible joke but willed it away quickly before he could see it. 

“I saw that smile,” He accused.

“No, you didn’t.” You tried to smother the corners of your mouth downward again. “You know for someone so smart you say a lot of stupid shit.”

“Aww, you think I’m smart, babe?” You didn’t have to look at him to know he probably had the dumbest smile plastered on his face. 

You rolled your eyes. “You also realize you talk way too much right?”

“You weren’t saying that last night.” He palmed your breast, kneading it softly. “Got so turned on you were literally begging me to fuck you. You were all like ‘Please daddy, please fuck me.’”

“I did not say that shit, weirdo.”

“It was implied.” He simpered.

You couldn’t help it; you were giggling now too. “You are such a dumbass.”

“First I’m smart, now I’m a dumbass. Which one is it, hm?” 

“Hmm, let me see…Which one is the quiet one, again?”

“You wouldn’t like it if I was quiet, though.” His voice had a hint of challenge in it.

You pursed your lips. He wasn’t entirely wrong.

“See? I know that filthy shit gets you going. Wanna test that theory, baby?” He murmured, kissing the shell of your ear. “See if you’ll call me daddy?"

Evidently he wasn’t the only one who got off to dirty talk. His cock was now fully hard and pressing against your ass.

He rolled on his stomach, pulling you closer to him by the thighs. Your eyes fluttered closed as he nuzzled into your sex, laving and sucking, deep blue eyes locked on you. His lips curled into a smile against you when you moaned and sighed with pleasure.

Dick pulled up briefly, pussy drunk, wearing his spit and your essence on his face like a badge of honor. He peppered a languid trail of drowsy kisses from your mouth and up your jaw as you spoke.

“Wha-what happened to breakfast?” Your question spilled out breathlessly from the way his mouth worked, a futile attempt at remaining coherent. Losing face now meant inflating his ego, especially if you proved his little “theory” a bit too quickly. 

“How about I eat you out first, then you let me fuck my cum down your throat later, yea?” 

His suggestive whisper sent a heavy wave of arousal straight to your heat. 

Fuck. 

Your bodies became a desperate tangle of limbs; your legs wrapped around his hips as you bucked up to grind against him, wanting—no, needing— him back inside you. Breakfast was definitely going to have to wait.

©️ blackreaderfics // credit to cafekitsune for the dividers

[simp-for-the-batfam]

It is a rare day when the Batfamily has a declared day and night off (usually instituted by Alfred when everyone is injured). They decided to spend the day watching a movie together. Only, Bruce is fed up with the Batkids spending too much time arguing over what movie they should watch and turns it to a random channel that happened to be playing Phineas and Ferb. He states that 'if you act like children, you watch childish things'. Little did Bruce know how much of a pain it would cause him.

First off, Damian has never seen the show, but now that he has, the OWCA agents, especially Agent P, are his favorites. He is already compiling a list of measurements as to give Alfred to make custom fedoras for Titus, Alfred the Cat, Batcow, and any other pet the Wayne's own. Alfred already has the sewing machine out. Damian even commissioned one for Hailey that Dick can't wait to put on her. And on a completely unrelated note, an animal smuggling ring that Damian busted last week happened to have an abused platypus that Damian has now decided would be better fit in the Wayne Manner than taken care of in some wildlife preserve.

Dick remembers trying to recreate do everything Phineas and Ferb's summer as a kid, and is now determined to do it again. While everyone is distracted by the show, he calling is order and favors, determined to make things and contacting anyone who could help. He already has the Teen Titans on his side. He even ordered roller coaster parts that should come tomorrow and who knows what else. While he might not be able to personally build everything, he knows people who could. But for some reason, the parts never arrive at the manor.

Jason is hardcore identifying with Candace. While he is not the oldest, he knows what it is like to have the perfect sibling that never gets caught for their wrongdoing (*cough*cough* Dick). He already had to go through Dick's crazy summer plans before when he was Robin, trying to stop Dick from getting himself killed, and he doesn't want to do it again. Throughout the show, he is trying to bust Dick whenever he leaves to make a suspicious phone call, but Dick always says he is ordering takeout. Jason is pulling his hair out wondering how come no one has questioned the amount of times Dick has left to order food and how none of it has arrived yet. When he gets a chance, he sings E.V.I.L. B.O.Y.Z. directed toward Dick, who sits up front looking completely innocent.

The minute Phineas and Ferb is mentioned, Stephanie quicky fled the room only to roll back in full Duckie Momo apparel. She has on a Duckie Momo onesie, Duckie Momo slippers, and Duckie Momo glasses. In fact, the whole floor has become a Duckie Momo nest, complet with blankets and pillows. She even had a matching onesie for Cass. She also came in knowing all of the songs word for word and had so much fun recreating the "Squirrels in my pants" dance.

When Cass isn't in the Duckie Momo nest with Steph, cuddling a Duckie Momo plushie, she is copying fight scenes from the show. It started off as Steph asking if she could do a move Agent P did, only for her to recreate the whole scene. Now everyone is wanting Cass to copy any of the animals fighting moves, but she declined until she also got a fedora. Damian quickly got her one and declared her an honorary OWCA Agent. Dick tried to join in, but failed. Jason about died laughing about how a platypus could beat Dick in a fight, only for Damian to yell, "Agent P is a worthy opponent, Todd!" with Cass nodding in agreement. Either way, Dick has mainly been pouting ever since.

Tim has been up for about a week before he got dragged into family time. Now, he is just staring numbly at the TV, saying 'mood' whenever Doofenshmirtz talks about his awful childhood backstories (like the one where his parents didn't show up for his birth), giving Bruce an aneurysm each time. Tim is already on the edge, and Bruce just hopes he doesn't gain any motivation to copy Doof's 'take over the Tri-state area' schemes. Bruce especially worries whenever Tim spots a machine and says 'I could build that'.

Unbeknownst to Bruce, Barbara already has the schematics for all of Doof's machines as well as Phineas and Ferb's. What started as a bored interest during summer as a child grew over time, especially with all resources she gained by being Batgirl and Oracle. The information on both are kept in separate secret heavily protected files to keep Tim away from Doof's and Dick away from Phineas and Ferb's. She even has a warning system in place if either of them get close to making one of the machines, either on accident or on purpose, and diverts them away from completing it. The system also includes orders to return any shipments made solely for the purpose of recreating a machine and deleting any records of the order in the first place (hence why Dick's shipment never came). But Babs is content with letting Bruce worry and continues to watch the show with a Duckie Momo blanket spread over her lap (courtesy of Steph).

Since Duke was still working day shift (he wasn't as injured as the others and wanted to flee before there was bloodshed over choosing the movie), he comes back home and happens to conveniently be listening to a playlist of Phineas and Ferb's greatest hits. Upon seeing everyone, Duke takes an earbud out and asks, "Whatcha doin'?" The only answer he got was Steph throwing another Duckie Momo onesie in his face.

An hour later, Jason and Steph are singing BUSTED on top of a table, Jason as a warning to Dick and Steph just for the heck of it. Meanwhile, Cass and Duke acts as Duckie Momo backup dancers with full choreography. Dick wanted to join in as well, but Jason forced him to sit down and watch, hoping the message will sink through, but Dick thinks it is because they don't like his dancing so now he is pouting again. Tim is waving his cellphone light as if this is the most meaningful part of the night, while Damian is about to wrestle the fedora onto Alfred the Cat, as the cat keeps batting it away. All the while, Babs is recording everything.

Bruce is reminded that this is why you should never watch daytime television and turns the channel, despite the cries of anguish. Only to be horrified when Alfred reminds him and the children that show is can be viewed on Disney + and can be streamed at anytime. He runs back to his room as the beginning notes to the intro fill the air and all his children sing along.

[ailithnight]

A few notes:

I originally planned to have this one have a couple of povs like the first, but then u got carried away writing feral Danny so, just Tim today.

I hope to get the next one out sometime this weekend cause it's harder to write when I have work.

Also, everyone thank @cursedzucchini for writing the comment that gave me the executive function to take these words out of my brain and put them in my phone. Reading that there was someone out there checking the tag for updates every day really motivated me.

Now, without further ado

Chapter 1

A King in Arkham

Chapter 2

Tim sighs, rubbing his temples and attempting to will away the sleep deprivation headache currently pounding on the inside of his skull. Pushing 80 hours awake, the last 38 of which have been spent combing backwards through any and all Arkham documents pertaining to one Daniel James Fenton.

He moved his hands away from his head, placing them on the fresh cup of coffee that had materialized while he was massaging, giving a cursory "Thanks" the retreating body. Normally, Alfred would have cut Tim off from caffeine yesterday. But it seems even the old butler was keen on something being found to justify pulling the kid out of Arkham.

Or maybe that was Jason fueling Tim's addiction. Man had been hovering since Batman called him back at the last break out. At least Dick had been able to reason better with the most volatile of the Wayne siblings.

"Picking him up and running won't do either of you any favors, Little Wing. It'll just put him and Hood on wanted posters. If you want him to have any shot at a life out here, you gotta let Bruce take it through the proper channels."

That had at least prevented Jason from snapping on anyone immediately, though he had seen fit to warn everyone that of they didn't have something by the next break out, he'd be doing it his way.

Which is why Tim had spent the last day and a half poring over every medical record, therapy session, schedule, action report, and discipline slip Arkham had on file that even mentioned Patient 26B.

Meanwhile, Oracle had her hands full trying to find any background information on the young ward. A task which itself was proving challenging because the place the kid came from seemed to have no digital presence at all. None. Not a Facebook or Twitter or MySpace pinging from the area. Not an email address or YouTube account. Not a single god damned website. Not even a .gov! Hell, the only reason they knew the city's name is because it was listed in the CPS paperwork from Chicago.

In other places, small towns and communities in the middle of nowhere, this wouldn't really raise any red flags. But Amity Park was not actually a nowhere town. It certainly wasn't a Gotham or Metropolis. But it was big enough to have formed a conurbation with the nearby city of Elmerton. Which had a perfectly normal digital presence. So Amity Park's lack of digital presence screamed Communications Blackout. A frighteningly strong one to still be giving Oracle the run around almost 2 days later.

Once Tim was finished reviewing Arkham reports, then the 3 weeks of documents from Daniel's stay in Chicago, he'd probably offer to help her. Though she might tell him to go the fuck to sleep instead.

For now. Tim was nearing the beginning of the kid's Arkham stay and; on top of not yet finding any clues as to why the kid was in Arkham, nor anything that could possibly exonerate him; the kid just made no damn sense!

His therapy sessions were all the same dead end.

The therapist would ask he he was feeling. The kid would apparently shrug, or sometimes mumble something the therapists could never quite catch.

They'd ask the standard suicide questions. "Any thoughts of wishing you could go to sleep and not wake up?"

A shrug.

"Any thoughts of wanting to take your own life or wishing someone would take it for you?"

Vehenement refusal bordering on a panic attack.

Move on to the hurting people questions.

"Any thoughts of wanting to harm other people?"

"No." According to the doctors, his tone here is immediate, calm, confident. Truthful. If the Arkham psyches are to be believed.

"Any thoughts of wanting to harm yourself?"

"No." Slower, quieter, meeker. Noted as a clear lie, citing the injuries as evidence.

"Then why do you, Danny?"

"I don't."

"Then where did your injuries come from."

"The ghosts," said with a sigh

At this point, it seems Daniel shuts down. He says nothing else for the rest of the session. Shows no outward response as the therapist tries to convince him there are no ghosts and Daniel must be giving himself those injuries.

2 and a half months. Daily therapy sessions. And every single one is the exact same script. The only differences are some minor notes as Daniel is passed around between therapists as they all inevitably get frustrated talking to the emotionless block of ice.

Outside of the therapy sessions and medical reports documenting the frankly horrifying amount of injuries Danny accumulates, there's not much in his file. He follows all instructions to the letter; never causes trouble for guards or other inmates; and every single locks malfunction, he has afterward been found lying on his bed in his cell staring at the ceiling. If he was somewhere else when the malfunction happened, security footage catches him walking there himself. If he was already in his cell, footage keeps him there the whole time.

Tim sighs again, clicking out of the medical report detailing the nasty bruise that had appeared on the kid's lower left back, then opens up the next file up without reading the name fully expecting it to be another tedious therapy session report.

Instead, he finds a discipline slip with the relevant security clip embedded at the top. The first frame is of the cafeteria. Daniel is sitting alone at a table in the top right. Tim's breath catches in his throat as he recognizes the demented clown in the center of the frame. Hastily, he plays the clip.

There is no sound but Joker appears to say something to the room. Daniel is suddenly standing, whipped around to face the clown. The Joker turns towards him. Daniel tenses. The Joker tenses.

In the next second, Daniel is on the Joker. He's kicking, scratching, biting. Absolutely feral as he just reigns fury upon the most feared and hated rogue in all of Gotham. Surrounding inmates are fleeing to the sides of the room as the Joker seemingly tries to get away from the kid, only succeeding in moving the "fight" around the room. It's hardly a fight. More like a vicious, brutal assault. Inmates cheer as blood appears on the floor. Guards move in, pulling the feral 15 year old off of the Joker; who stays down, potentially unconscious. 2 guards go to help the one currently attempting to restrain Daniel. 6 more converge on the Joker, blocking him from view. As soon as he can no longer see the Joker, Daniel seems to go limp in the guards hands. Then he tenses again, though not struggling. Tim just catches the beginning stages of what seems to be a panic attack before the clip ends.

Tim stares dumbfounded at the screen for several moments. When he snaps out of it enough to actually read the incident report, it is a basic transcription of what Tim just witnessed with confirmation that Daniel had a panic attack immediately after. The report also notes that other than the panic attack, Daniel seemed to sustain no harm. He was disciplined with 3 days without cafeteria privileges, so his meals were brought to his cell, and 3 days without Crafts room privileges.

A note at the bottom of the report reads "To prevent further incidents, Patient 26B and the Joker are no longer permitted to be in the same room or yard."

This makes Tim click out of the discipline slip -without closing it, just moving it to a different section of the batcomputer's massive screen- and scan the rest of the files. There are 2 more. One from a week prior and one from Daniel's first dat at Arkham. He opens both, placing them at points on the screen so that all 3 are visible.

The one from the week prior shows the Crafts Room. Danny is again in an upper corner. Time plays it. The door opens. Joker walks in. Seems to look at Daniel, then rushes him. Daniel looks up before the Joker makes it half way across the room, then in the next second meets him there. Another feral fight only broken up by the guards when the Joker stops moving. Again, Danny goes limp as soon as the Joker is out of sight. The rest of the report confirming a panic attack but no injuries. 2 days lost privileges.

The report from Daniel's first day again shows the cafeteria. This time, Daniel is center frame. Joker comes up behind him. Daniel tenses but doesn't turn yet. Joker seems to be saying g something, then laughs. Daniel hunches in on himself, seeming to mumble a response. Whatever he said makes the Joker laugh harder. Then he leans down over Daniel's shoulder, talking. Daniel seems frozen for not even half a second before he suddenly pushes himself out of his seat, straight in to the Joker, twisting as he goes to begin the attack. Since it's obviously the first time, the rest of the cafeteria freezes. No one reacts for a solid 6 seconds. Then guards are moving in, hauling the teenager away. The Joker stands unsteadily then takes a knee. He has to be led limping out of the room. Guards struggle to restrain Daniel until the Joker is gone, whereafter Daniel goes boneless, then begins panicking. Report confirms panic attack and no injuries. 1 day lost privileges.

Tim stares at the batcomputer for several minutes, trying very hard to process what he has just learned. His brain feels like soup. He rubs his eyes, looks at his coffee, grabs a comm to put in his ear. His voice is strained as he speaks.

Anyone nearby who can come to the cave for a minute?

Jason responds instantly.

Upstairs. Find something?

I don't... know. I just. Someone come confirm I didn't just hallucinate what I just watched and read.

Red Robin? What did you find?

Not saying until someone else can confirm it.

Red Robin

On my way down.

.

"What the actual fuck?"

[sophiethewitch1]

Hey! I just wanted to say that I love the WWW series so much that I've literally read it like 4 times over. SO! I have several questions + observations about it that have been bugging me a little, if you don’t mind answering + talking about them.

Everyone’s ages are something that I've been curious about. I know that it’s stated that Damian and the Reader-insert are 3 years apart in age, 19 and 21 respectively. I’m assuming that they’re more like 2 1/2 years apart based on the ages we’ve been given.

Do they follow canon ages? For example, is Tim still around 7 years older than Damian???

Because i’m picturing the lineup looking something like this:

Bruce: 47

Dick: 33

Jason: 28

Tim: 26

Reader-insert: 21

Damian: 19

I was just curious because picturing everyone’s relative age is something that is really important to me when regarding the dynamics between characters.

Another thing that I noticed was how in the Reader-insert’s  original reality/world, her entire family died on the same day that Jason did. (“Your lives had both technically ended the same day, in the same grand calamity.”). Does that remain the same in this new world?

Because that would mean that the Reader-insert’s  counterpart would have known Jason at some point, which I think is SUPER interesting. Lots of implications.

That’s supported by something that Tim says in his 1st pov: “Your family had died, Bruce’s new wife had died, and all the siblings he never really got the opportunity to meet, gone in a brilliant flash.”

THAT has a few implications that I think are really interesting. It supports the idea that her family did die on the same day in this reality, and that she would have known and been living with Jason at the time (Well, before his death.)

Tim would have most likely only seen them at galas or something similar by that time…leading to his statement about how he “never really got the opportunity to meet” them.

This would mean that Jason knew her counterpart when the Reader-insert met him for the first time. 

Now, going off of all of those assumptions, I can only begin to guess what her and Dicks relationship was like before her family's death. I picture it like this:

Dick had only left the manor around 3 years TOPS before Bruce had remarried, bringing a whole nother family into the fold. Now, we don’t know too much about Dick in this story yet, (I'm SO excited to see more of him in the next chapter BTW) but I can assume that this would feel pretty upsetting. Leaving your home, and your adoptive? father only for him to marry into a whole new family not long after?

I’d be pretty bitter if it was me in his situation. I wouldn’t really want to have any kind of relationship with the new children he had taken in. MEANING that Dick and the counterpart didn’t have too much of a relationship before her family's death.

And between their death and Jason’s, Dick would probably consider the counterpart as some kind of chance to actually build a relationship with his siblings in the light of what he lost. Obviously, the counterpart didn’t appreciate the attempt.

Uhhh there’s probably a lot more that I'm forgetting to mention, but I think the way you write is super compelling, and the Reader-Insert has been the only one that I’ve ever read that I can relate to so well!

So TYSM for writing, it literally makes my day!! 🩷🩷🩷🫂🫂🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

(And I’m really bad at conveying my tone in text, so if I seem overly critical or anything then I’m really sorry!!! I don’t mean it like that!!!)

Sorry this took so long to answer I have been in sickly victorian woman mode. I'll answer these questions to the best that I can, but also I don't have everything planned and even if I did I regularly forget shit if I don't write it down <3 <3

First of all the ages- I aged both the younger Waynes up and the older ones down a bit, because I'm personally not into the super huge age gaps but also. Imagine them however you want, even if they come up later in continuity still just insert your personal preferences if you want. Like it really doesn't matter lmao they're relationship has bigger issues than the age gaps. Anyway here are how I had them written down but I might change my mind I am a fluid being

Reader: 21, Damian: 19, Tim: 22, Jason: 25, Dick: 29, Bruce: 45, Alfred: 67, Molly: Also 21, Cass: 25, Stephanie: 23, Barbara: 30, Duke: 20

Also yes, reader's family died the exact same day in both universes, and first world reader like... knew about the waynes but wasn't particularly interested in them till their own family was ripped away, then she started obsessing. in second world, reader and the batfam were like... sort of involved? she lived with them, and she was getting to know them, but wouldn't you be kind of weirded out if your mum married like. jeff bezos or something. and reader is sort of introvert coded, even if they don't read that way. it's just because she's trying so hard not to be, because she's so starved for attention. other world reader like,,, didn't seem to react the same way to what happened to her. but she might've, in the newest chapter it seems like she was talking to bruce after the disaster, and then stopped. But yeah you're right they never knew each other because not much effort was made to do so, and the Waynes are always SUPER busy.

Also about the Dick thing, he was actually pretty happy about the new family! But like you said he still didn't know other reader till the disaster. He just didn't have time to get to know her. He was obviously very upset with Bruce because he left to fuck off to Bludhaven for a while, but he's always loved how the Wayne family kept growing. Even when it was just him Jason, Babs and the weird kid who followed them around with a camera. Then he like decided he was going to treat her like a project because he has a savior complex that comes out especially so when he's having a hard time (oh damn my brothers dead). Not your best moment Dickie. I mean other reader definitely did need help but... as if she'd accept it from a guy like Dick. Imagine your entire family dies and you have to deal with the most beautiful guy on earth trying to comfort you while you look like a creature that crawled out of the sewers. And he tries to make you go outside because you're genuinely very mentally sick. I'd kill him tbh. Anyway this is all still technically up in the air and I might go back and edit the fic later because I'm like... very bad at timelines I just can never remember them properly which creates a lot of issues and inconsistencies.

Anyways thank you for sending in your questions/theories and enjoying my work so much! I'm glad you can relate to reader so well, she's like, one of the strangest characters I've ever written who refuses to behave in any concrete mannerisms because she's stubborn and has intimacy issues. But I think we're all a little bit like that lmao. And thank YOU for reading my stuff, I wouldn't still be doing it if it weren't for folks like you :P (also also you didn't come across as critical at all, you were very polite!!!)

[laufire]

top five dc ships

Jason Todd/Mia Dearden. I liked them after first reading "Seeing Red" -I love a good meet ugly, an antagonistic relationship between narrative foils, and they absolutely delivered that and more with their confrontation. But now that I've read the bulk of Mia's comics? OTP among OTPs. The ship can do so much for her narrative, don't let anyone tell you otherwise lol.

Bruce Wayne/Selina Kyle. A fucking classic. Ironically I feel I ship them more as I read through Devin's Catwoman run, in which Bruce is largely absent and all the better for it lmao. But it really shows off, completely unintentionally, *why* they'd match each other's freak perfectly :P

Dinah Lance/Oliver Queen. They're so messyyyyyyyy. I love them for that. Together, broken up, married, divorced, never quite done with each other, bring it all.

Clark Kent/Lois Lane. I have mixed feelings because I love them but there are undeniably eras where this romance has been such a detriment to Lois's character... the fact that unlike the other examples above she really doesn't quite carve a narrative niche for herself is one huge drawback for me, ngl. But I do love plenty of them *as* a couple. Woe is me.

Jason Todd/Tim Drake. I was converted by a few mutuals. Honestly, I love how this coupling would break people's brains, inside and outside canon xD. And they're so not normal about each other and could easily *get* each other (that is one progression that made total sense to me in the new 52. A phase of canon where I suspect more than one writer low-key shipped them because how else do you explain certain scenes lol).

ETA: honorable mentions to Chalant (I didn't list it because it's solely in the YJTV continuity and I kept this focused on new earth); Barda and Scott Free, who I know little about, but that's enough to love their vibes; or Cass x Barbara as the unrequited-pseudo-familial mess I imagine them to be.

[allfandomstan]

After Dark~(Batman x Vigilante Reader), Chapter 4.

Genre: Action, Mystery, Suspense, Noir, Crime.

Setting: Gotham City Hall from ‘The Batman’ 2022..

Warnings: Mentions of Violence, Swearing, Dark themes, descriptions of blood, Cynicism, Psychopathic themes.

Word Count: 1.9K

Hey its me back with another chapter to the series! Finally after an 8 months hiatus or so, I conjured up the will to publish this chapter I’ve been working on. It’s not much but just something to smoothly carry the series forward🫣..

And my apologies if I screw up the movie timeline in upcoming chapters!😫 it’s been a while since I revisited the movie as a whole so you might see some errors here and there🙃.

Hope you enjoy!

***

Here you were, back at in your apartment.. again. Millions of thoughts ran through your mind like a flowing river that won’t stop at any point unless an intentional obstruction to the constant flow of water was put in place. Like a dam of sorts. All you could think of was about the event that unfurled earlier. From your argument with Sam to meeting Bruce Wayne, for the first in your life. Although you weren’t much sure about it..

The way his gaze met yours resembled some kind of shocking recognition and truth. Those deep ocean eyes looked familiar as ever, but you couldn’t quite pin point where you saw them. Yet..

His expression changed from monotone to slightly ‘intrigued’ when he laid his eyes on you. You noticed him scanning your face for something, like trying to read you like an open book. But why?

‘Had he seen you somewhere before?’

It sure looked like he did.

‘But where?’

****

The final touch you needed was your dark crimson coloured lipstick and then you were ready to go. To the Mayor’s funeral to be exact..

Today was the day Mayor Don Mitchell Jr. would be laid to rest six feet under, and you won’t say he will be resting in peace. You don’t think he’ll be resting at all because of the way he was taken from this world.. Brutally hammered to the head by a madman.

In a way you felt bad for the deceased Mayor even though you knew he was a corrupt-to-the-core asshole, but at least he should’ve been given a not-so fucked up death.

He died absolutely humiliated. With the words ‘No more Lies’ written on his taped up head with his very own blood. Not only did the Riddler kill him in the most devastatingly gut-wrenching way, but also tried to expose his deep seated secrets… The ones he feared would soon come to get him. And get him it did..

Bats hadn’t contacted you at all for two days straight. Not that you minded, really. You figured he was just busy getting his knuckles bloody from beating up the average Gotham thug he crosses more than once in the night. The city was crawling with them, especially during the late hour. But not just that, He’s most probably working on the case involving riddler, of course. The average Gotham thug was nothing compared to the chaos Riddler would bring if he’s not taken care of.

You wondered if The Bat had a life beyond crime fighting. Well of course he did. He’s human too, after all..

‘Why the fuck do I even care?’

You snapped out of your daze and tried to focus on the task at hand.. The Mayor’s funeral. Sure enough, you had to be there. Incase something happens.. And you had a tad bit of a gut feeling, that it would. You supposed he might be there too. Watching in the shadows, hidden from view. Of course he wouldn’t miss such a vital event if it means catching Riddler. This could be his right time to strike and evoke chaos among citizens in that town hall. You’d just had to wait and see if you were right. But you hoped the fuck not.

You finally put your trench coat over your self and grabbed your bag which contained your keys, burner phone and of course, your blade. You just had with you whenever you went out. Just in case..

****

The streets surrounding the Gotham Town Hall were packed with eager citizens who wanted to catch a glimpse of their coffin-ridden Mayor one last time. The Press and media were there too, to report and keep updated the curious minds of people who couldn’t make it to the funeral. The crowd was large pushy and suffocating.

You tried to get to the front, pushing past the crowd of people. When you finally got to the front you let out a deep breath. You had to say you were surprised as to why you you weren't smothered to death but you were grateful to make it out of the restless crowd alive.

At your current position you had a clear view of the road and the front of the Town Hall. There you saw police officers, prestigious politicians and a bunch of celebrities standing around, waiting for the venue to open. But your eyes landed on one particular person..

Carmine Falcone.

At the sight of that man, your fists subconsciously clenched inside of your coat pockets.

'What was he doing here?'

Then it made sense. Since the late Mayor himself wasn't the sinless of people, of course it was expected of him to have ties with someone as notorious as Falcone.

As you were focusing in on the Mob Boss, you became distracted by the sudden yelling of the people around you.

"Oh my Lord! It's Bruce Wayne!!"

Your gaze immediately took itself off Falcone and focused on the new subject at hand.

And there he was, The Gotham Prince.

Clad in a dapper black, wool coat and sporting the typical rich-guy look, appeared Wayne from his black Corvette.

Hmm, expensive you had to say. But of course.

You refrained from subconsciously rolling your eyes at the display. Bastard, making poor people eat shit.

You watched as he gave his car keys to an officer so he could park it elsewhere, and then walking off to climb the steps leading to the entrance of the Town Hall. You noticed his slight heaviness in step and the light hunch of his shoulders. And shit the guy looked like he hasn't slept in ages..

He involuntarily talked to the people around him which included Cops, celebrities and the Mayor candidate herself, Bella Real.

You watched as his head slowly turned to acknowledge the ungodly Man standing behind him with a crooked smile etched onto his face. Bruce then too, reluctantly met his gaze and engaged in a not so jolly conversation. Falcone placed a hand on Wayne's shoulder and patted it a few times before returning to talk to his henchman, Penguin.

'The guest list is just fucking incredible', you thought.

First you had the displeasure of finding Carmine Falcone and now, Penguin.

You watched as Penguin laughed, flashing his crooked brown stained teeth at Falcone. You bet whatever the asshole said must have been very funny indeed.

You looked away, disgusted. Men like Penguin had no right to laugh when so many lives had been ruined because of their deeds. Men like Penguin had no right to even breathe.

You would take care of that, soon enough..

****

About 45 minutes had passed and you found yourself pushing past crowds again trying to get into the Town Hall. You somehow managed to get in, all in one piece and stood by the side of the Hall along with the many citizens who already got in before you. After a while, the officers cut off any more citizens trying to come in as it was getting suffocating with the amount of people already inside the buliding. After entrance doors were closed, a metal barrier was put in place to separate second citizens, standing at both sides of the building from the first class. And among the second class citizens were you, of course. And among the first class were Falcone, Penguin, Bella Real and Bruce Wayne.

You sighed at the unlawful segregation, but you came to accept it eventually.

After about fifteen minutes the loud chatter quite down as the speech began. Several people, mainly Mitchell's Family and some politicians came up to deliver their honary speeches to commemorate the life and apreciate the accomplishments and 'good work' of the late Mayor. You scoffed at this. ‘How naïve where these people?’ Believing blindly to whatever Mitchell did was correct and truely for the betterment of Gotham. You doubted the man gave a single shit about this City or it’s citizens. The continuous speeches went on and on and you found yourself zoning out, voices becoming muddled and vision unfocused. Your mind started racing with thoughts consisting of ‘other things’. You couldn’t help but reimagine your first interaction with Vengeance. The way he pushed you against the wall, your chest flush to his abdomen. The way he held his intense gaze on you for longer than you’d wanted.. The way the rough fabric of his glove came to rest on the tender flesh of your neck, bruising it lightly..

All of this reminiscing totally had you off guard. You noticed that things were different now. In that very moment, it felt different.. You suddenly noticed that everything was abruptly called to a halt. Time had entirely stopped for a moment or so. Silence.. Chaos hidden in the element, waiting to strike like a serpent. There was complete silence until..

“Everyone, get the fuck out!”

You heard a man shout, possibly an officer on patrol. Then it all began. You heard multiple screams from behind you and then it all turned to chaos. People started running one by one trying to get away from something coming through the front. You wondered what it was and pushed towards the frantic crowd and towards where you supposed the danger was coming from. And then you saw it. Suddenly a GCPD SUV crashed through the glass doors of the building and skidded towards the Mayor’s casket. It all happened so quick you thought it was all in your head. Only that it wasn’t, unfortunately. You took a quick look around and there you saw Bruce on the floor with the Mayor’s Son in his arms. The boy must’ve been in the car’s way, you thought. And Bruce must’ve ran to get him out of the way before he got hit. Your focus was glued on Bruce and the way he gently helped the boy get back on his feet and tenderly guided him back to his Mother, horror etched onto her worn out features. Before you knew it a hand wrapped around your forearm rather harshly. You whipped your head around to stare at your intruder in the eyes but was met with the ones of a worried-sick to the bone Cop’s. “Mam’ you need to get out of here”, he calmly said trying to keep his cool in spite of all the chaos. You just stared at the officer for a moment or so without emitting any words in his direction. You found your eyes wandering back to Bruce once more. He was also being held by the forearm and being escorted out by some officers trying to get him to leave before the situation gets worse. You noticed his frantic eyes searching the place for something, or more like someone.. And then those Ocean blue eyes you found so mesmerising just a day ago found your own. You almost wanted to look away out of embarrassment because he caught you staring. But you didn’t. You kept your eyes glued onto his and his to yours. You two held a moment of eye-contact before your attention snapped towards the cop shaking your forearm. “Mam’ we don’t have much time. You have to evacuate.. Now!”

You nodded your head hastily and followed him to the evacuation exit. You looked back one last time, trying to catch a glimpse of Bruce, but he was long gone..

***

[sreppub]

please tell us all of your floor plan gripes bc SAME

THANK YOU!!!

Before we begin:

i'm sure the original artist was just having fun with it. i am also having fun!

there's absolutely no shame in liking this design and using it for inspiration as is!

honestly once i had some dinner and did some yoga, i lost my interest in ranting about something silly but it seems like a lot of writers were excited to have a visual reference, so maybe this will be interesting to - someone? 😂

inspired by one of my favourite blogs of all time: @/mcmansionhell

Important

I do appreciate that the fireplaces line up. 🔥

this plan was never meant to be in scale, nor does it include all the practical things like washrooms, closets, and stairs. be honest, would you care about these things in your silly batman comic? :P

I tried not to dwell on practicalities, but on things that I think do matter for a "set" and creating scenes. Is all. At a Wayne gala, is it easy or hard for child Tim to stumble into the library and meet Jason? What absolutely floors reporter Clark Kent when he comes inside the house, and what nooks and crannies does Brucie drag him into to make out? What's Alfred's day like?

Main Floor, Basement, Exterior

As mentioned by several others, one (1) half-bathroom for the entire first and basement floors. Interesting choice.

Weird afterthought facade

Clapboard. How is this not full gorgeous masonry.

Disappointing tiny foyer. Double height space, excellent opportunity for a feature staircase with a wraparound mezzanine, and the only thing up above is a tiny elevator lobby. There is NO space in this foyer for 9 year old Dickie to destroy a chandelier in.

That private study gotta be stuffy and dark with no windows. It better be because the clock batcave entrance is behind it, unmarked on the plan for secrecy.

The entrance to the huge mega parlor is so tight and small because of that stair 😫

My understanding of a parlour is a sitting room, no? Pour parler? Even a large parlour should be cozy and sized intimately, like... couches and a bar for a dozen people, max. I don't spend a lot of times in houses with parlours, so I could be wrong.

All of the hosting rooms clustered together makes sense. Then there's the dining room. "30-45" people need to shuffle through the tiny foyer to be seated for dinner.

Dining room so fuckin far from the kitchen

Little Jason Todd needs walk all the way from his bedroom in Siberia to the foyer stairs, make a U-turn, walk through the creepy echoey empty parlor and down the creepy echoey empty ballroom stairs to get to the library. this is discrimination.

Getting to the pool is super inconvenient from the residential level lol. Or anywhere really

Dr Wayne's Office, sure. Rather large for a single doctor, but maybe he had reception, storage, multiple suites, staff?

The hallways would feel like hamster tubes lol. Maybe old houses are just like that idk

There's no family-sized kitchen, dining room, den.... Just the big party ones.

You can fit three laundromats in that laundry room

Second Floor

Secretary's office? For what? And why on the residential floor? My best guess (I know little about old timey manors) is a touchdown office for administrative staff and guests - accountants, lawyers, Wayne Enterprises/Foundation staff... no idea.

It's cool that the residential level has a mezzanine overlooking the parlor, but feels... small.

These bedrooms are stupidly big. I could give benefit of the doubt and assume the bedrooms include unmarked ensuites, a study, whatever; but not when it explicitly says Jason has a twin bed and a desk. That room is bigger than my comfortable 2BR apartment.

Crazy long "Main Bath" (and again, not enough for five rooms). Although I suppose Dick doesn't have to share it with Jason for very long...

There are staff areas, but no staff residences. The oversized guest suites?? Or... perhaps they have to commute to change Bruce's linens? (yes, it's only Alfred now, but like. When the Ancestral Waynes lived here.)

The attic was renovated later into Bruce's living space. Presumably Guest Bed #1 was the former Master Bedroom? maybe?

Third Floor

Bruce renovated this himself so i’m allowed to roast him for it

Three balconies??? Three???? And they're ALL absurdly sized. Bruce is pale like a ghost. They are only for being dropped off by superman and kissing him goodnight.

Private video library?? He has a couple Blockbuster's worths of surveillance tapes or something?

The path for guests to go to that meeting room is so long and so winding and they have to walk though the residential spaces???

Future expansion with storage?????? For WHAT Bruce??????

The elevators don't go up here?????

Okay imagine this. Tiny Dickie has a nightmare. If there’s anything I learned from fanfic, he’s going to find Bruce’s room and sneak into his bed for crying and cuddles. If he can fucking make it there.

I think Bruce just finishes some renovations on the attic and then he accidentally adopts a child who goes fucking missing for a DAY because he went looking for Bruce one night and got LOST, and then Bruce moves back down to the family wing

Conclusion

Pinterest boards, man, i love pin boards so much

[sadboytournament]

ROUND ONE

Propaganda

Adriane Tepes/Alucard: Bro's mom got murdered and his dad went insane and tried to wipe out humanity, and Adrian had to kill him to save everyone. AND THEN he had to deal with people trying to revive his dad to cause even more deaths! Also he's immortal so he's outlived everyone he's ever cared about 😭

Jason Todd: (tw: sexual assault mention) the second robin, gets taken in by bruce after his abusive dad walks out and his mum dies of an overdose (and he also steals the wheels of the batmobile, king). bruce trains him to be robin and for his original run he was a pretty cute kid (with the occasional Angst Arcs that are pretty common w robin - special shoutout to jason finding out his dad was actually killed by two face and he just didnt know, and an arc where a woman that reminds him of his mum gets raped by a guy that iirc has diplomatic immunity i think?? or enough power to get away with it? anyway jason fucking kills him so not that immune ig) then death in the family happened and jason found out his mum isnt his biological mum so he sets off trying to find his bio mum, and eventually he meets her, but shes working for the joker and sells jason out to him. the joker then proceeds to beat jason with a crowbar and blows the building hes in up with his mum also inside it, killing them both. dc then does a fun thing for the next 20 years where they start treating jason like the '"""troubled""" """angry""" robin who was too reckless and was always going to end up dead. eventually dc brings jason back (as dc is wont to do), by having him wake up inside his coffin years after dying, dig his way out with his bare hands, and walk half-dead in the general direction of wayne manor until he's hit by a car and taken to the hospital (where all his says is 'bruce' over and over, and when asked who bruce is he responds 'my dad' and passes out) eventually he ends up in talia al ghul's care and is dunked in a lazarus pit to revive him completely, and he finds out not only is the joker still alive, but batmans also replaced him as robin. jason returns to gotham as red hood and has an honestly pretty slay arc where he taunts bruce by doing a better job of cleaning up gotham than him ngl. eventually it all culminates with him luring batman to a building where hes keeping the joker and telling b that his no kill rule is bullshit, and he shouldve killed the joker for taking jason away from him. he gives bruce an ultimatum thats basically if you dont kill me ill kill the joker, you gotta pick' and bruce chooses to instead disarm jason and save them both, and jason escapes. what follows is a lot of ups and downs for red hood comics (mostly due to the "angry robin" narrative dc writers have spun, making a lot of jasons appearances wildly ooc fights, lots of weird (tragically in character) cringefail behaviour, and this odd period where hes a natural redhead and his helmet is this ugly dome). itd be too long to list every jason todd sadboy moment from the last 20 years here but i do want to give a special shoutout to a currect story arc where bruce (who thinks hes being controlled by a 'perfect batman' hes got in his head) gets sick of jason's """reckless behaviour""" and fucking alters jasons brain chemistry so that whenever his adrenaline rises, he'll have a panic attack so severe hes basically incapacitated and can barely speak through his fear (the instant he escapes bruce's captivity he jumps into a burning building to save a little girl im SOFT for him!!). also second special shoutout to the jason todd in the arkham games who didnt even have the luxury of dying at the jokers hand, and was instead tortured for like 3 years, branded, beaten by p much everyone in batmans rogues gallery (and some of jokers goons dressed as batman), eventually jason breaks himself out only to find out that NOT ONLY has bruce replaced him, but it took the man like. a month. like jason wouldnt be thought dead for a long time, he was missing and bruce just went 'ill let this new kid adopt himself' ig? also theres a vr game in the arkham series where you can go into arkham asylum and hear jason screaming 🙃

[glowinghae]

meet me at midnight || c.three

[Chapter Three - Only Love Can Hurt Like This]

𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐃 + OC

meet me at midnight masterlist 𝟏𝟖+, lots of various torture, trauma, angst, suffering, cheating, violent death, funerals, women not supporting women, arguments, fluff but really a lot of angst. smut [p in v, rough, fingering, etc.] all characters are over 18,

to be a vigilante requires only three things: a broken heart, the resources, and the will.

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘! an extremely fat thank you to @hllokttyairhead for being so extremely beautiful, supporting, and lovely in the making of this chapter. pls pls pls go and read her stuff because it is some of the best writing on this site.

Hazy morning light peaked through window shades. Esther Wayne was sleeping on clouds, or that’s what it felt like. Her skin was caressed in soft white linen as far as her dazed eyes could see. The warmth of the sun felt healing against her bare skin.

As her vision began to clear, it became more apparent that she was not in her safe house. Yet, Esther recognized this place. The walls were a deep grayish-blue. She knew it immediately because she had helped pick it out once upon a time.

Sitting up quickly, Esther looked around rapidly. How had she gotten here? This isn’t where she had been the night before. Suddenly, her head began to spin at a dizzying pace. Memories from the night before rushed her like a herd of angry elephants.

It couldn’t be possible what she’d seen. What she’d heard. What she’d felt. Esther reached her hand up and grazed her face; she’d felt his fingers on her cheek. On her lips.

Jason Todd was alive. At least, it seemed like he was. Maybe all last night was just a dream. But then, how did she end up here?

This was Dick Grayson’s apartment in the industrial district of Gotham. She knew because she’d helped him pick it out. There’d been a time when they were supposed to live in it together. 

She didn’t see him anywhere, but Esther could smell food being cooked, which meant Dick was there. 

Usually, she’d be freaking out that Dick knew where she was because that meant that Bruce would know where she was. But if Dick had told Bruce, her older brother would be here waiting to strong-arm her into being his little puppet again.

Not to mention that these sheets were the best she’d slept in so long. And the mattress was so impossibly comfortable. Her suit was folded neatly in the corner of the room, with her blood-stained mask on top.

Wait, if her suit was over there… Then what was she-? Esther lifted the covers and looked down. Someone had undressed her and put her in a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. She touched her skin, its normal post-fight grittiness nonexistent. Someone had washed her off.

Despite all these reasons to be comfortable, Esther’s head was pounding. She ran her tongue over her teeth, the faint taste of chemicals was still there.

Shit. Esther hadn’t really had a choice on how to escape Bane, but it had come with consequences. The venom Bane was so fond of wasn’t sitting well with her. She’d come in contact with it years before when she was younger, and as it turns out, she had a bit of an allergy to it.

Her stomach was churning and sure enough, when she looked at her bare thighs there were deep red splotches painted across them. Those would clear up in a few hours but the dizziness and headaches liked to stick around a bit longer. 

What did any of that matter, though? 

Jason. Jason. Jason was all that ran through her mind. Had it been real? Could it even be possible for it to be real? Esther had cradled his dead body in her arms and watched the bullet steal his life, youth, and future away. Her fingers had been soaked in his blood as she caressed his broken face.

Beautiful Jason. Her Red. It certainly looked like him. Sounded like him too. That permanently sarcastic voice.

Her chest swelled up with something if it had been him last night, despite how unlikely that was. Something light and warm… something she hadn’t felt in so long.

Hope.

But hope for what exactly? And why was Jason running around as Red Hood and working with criminals? There were so many questions that she didn’t understand, but it felt like she’d been holding her breath for the past year, and for once, just now, sweet blissful air filled her lungs.

Esther sighed, she couldn’t stay here all day, and she deeply considered leaving out the window. But man, whatever Dick was cooking smelled great. Rubbing at her temple, Esther threw her blotchy legs off the side of the bed and stood up, the oversized t-shirt dropping to her mid-thigh. 

It still didn’t make sense to her how she ended up here last night. The last thing she remembered was Jason’s green eyes looking at her in concern.

Blood rushed to her head as she took a few steps forward and opened the door to the kitchen. Sure enough, Dick Grayson’s back was to her as he finished frying some bacon. He didn’t notice her entry because his attention was focused on the TV in the living room.

“Sources say that the Joker’s body was found this morning, hanging from the sign of Ace Chemicals. His body was reportedly mutilated and found with a sign pinned to his chest with the words ‘you’re welcome. GCPD is conducting a thorough autopsy to ensure it’s not Joker up to one of his tricks but as of right now, it could be a very Merry Christmas for Gotham City.”

Jack Ryder’s voice was cut out as Dick flicked the tv off. “So… you finally did it then,” Dick said, not looking back at her. He must have realized that she’d come out of the room while Esther was listening to the reporter.

Was last night truly real? Joker was dead. Could that mean that Jason really was alive?

“It wasn’t me,” Esther said in almost a daze. When Dick turned to face her, she noticed how tired his face was. How disappointed it was too. She rolled her eyes, “It wasn’t.”

“It’s just a coincidence then that your suit and weapons are covered in blood?” Dick’s tone wasn't annoyed exactly, more… exasperated.

There was a moment of silence as Esther grabbed a couple plates from the cupboard, knowing for a fact that Dick had made enough food for both of them. “I was there. But it wasn’t me. Someone beat me to it.”

It was nagging at her. Esther wanted to scream that Jason Todd was alive, but she couldn’t. What if it really was some trick? And everyone got their hopes up just to be let down? Somehow she doubted it was a trick. Her gut told her it was really him.

Truthfully speaking, Esther was being selfish. She just wanted to keep this to herself a little longer. Maybe figure out what was going on first. 

Dick turned to look at her, searching her face for something. After a moment, he seemed to have found it. “Hm.” He believed her, “So the blood must be from all the people you killed trying to get to him.”

Well, there was no denying that. Instead, Esther looked him up and down. Over the years, Dick Grayson had not changed much. His hair was overgrown as always, and he had a sleepy look in his eyes. His Romani features had always made her heart swoon, but as Esther looked at Dick now, she felt nothing. 

Nothing wasn’t precisely true. “If you disapproved so much, Bruce would be here dragging me to some rehabilitation center already.” Esther had known Dick since her first day in Wayne Manor. He’d been there before her since the death of his own parents. Dick had brought her hot chocolate on her first night, and she’d told him the bed was too soft after a lifetime of sleeping on a hospital cot. Esther smiled at the memory of him putting a pillow and blanket on the ground for an anxious little girl. 

Dick threw her an uncomfortable look and Esther sighed; she had a feeling about what he was about to say. “Ok, full disclosure? Bruce is on his way here, but it’s unrelated. We’ve got about half an hour since the traffic is bad. I uh- I didn’t really expect to find you in my t-shirt in my bed this morning.”

What? Esther’s brow furrowed, “Wait, I was here when you got back from Bludhaven?” So, he hadn’t found her passed out somewhere. That means… Red Hood had brought her here last night. Red Hood had undressed her and cleaned her injuries.

“You don’t remember?” Dick arranged the food on their plates before throwing the dishes into the sink. His eyes squinted at her, “Are you okay? Did you take any bad hits to the head?” He sat next to her and moved to feel her head with the back of his hand; she blocked him with her arm. Dick paused. He’d almost forgotten that things weren’t normal between them.

It didn’t hurt Esther anymore, what he’d done to her. Those kinds of feelings for him were gone. But she didn’t want him to get his hopes up. She gave him a tight smile. “I got a little beat up last night. I think I might’ve taken one too many blows.” It wasn’t really a lie; she really had been beaten up last night.

“You don’t have Alfred stitching you up anymore, Essie; just make sure you have someone look at your injuries, okay? Regardless, I’m glad you came somewhere safe to rest up.” Dick sighed. They ate silently for a moment before he bit his lip, “So, it’s finally over? This crusade of yours?” Esther’s chewing slowed, “I mean, Joker is dead. That’s what you wanted, right?”

He wasn’t wrong. But all last night had done was beg even more questions. And the one over them all had still yet to be answered. “Joker was hired by someone to take Jay and me.” Esther chewed on her eggs, “I still haven’t figured out who. It’s not over until I do.”

“I was afraid you’d say something like that.” He grumbled, “Why can’t you just come home, Essie? Alfred’s driving himself crazy worrying about you. And Bruce-”

“Is having a hard time finding a batgirl replacement? Has he tried taking out an ad in the paper?” Esther responded snidely and Dick squeezed the bridge of his nose. She did feel a pang of guilt about Alfred, though.

“I already told you the situation with Tim, and he’s still got a broken nose from when you ran into him in the sewers a few weeks ago. He’s fourteen-”

“And we were twelve by the time we knew how to block a simple elbow attack.” Esther rolled her eyes, using her toast to casually soak up some of the yolks on her plate. “I’ve been taking it easy on him every time we’ve run into each other. Let him know that will stop soon if he can’t manage to land even one hit against me.”

Esther would be lying if she said she hated the kid. She hated Bruce for taking him on. It was truthful, however, that she didn’t hold back much when fighting the literal child. Esther didn’t want another dead Robin, and if this Tim kid couldn’t beat her, there were too many people who wouldn’t stop at a broken nose.

Dick knew this, of course. Esther had helped him and Bruce train Jason when he came along, and she used to do the same things to him even as children. That was, of course, until Jason grew to be taller than her, and she’d had to adjust her tactics. The point is that Dick Grayson knew that Esther could be harsh, but only when she felt it necessary.

It was one of the things he’d loved about her.

“I’ll tell him.” Dick gave in as he studied her face, drinking in Esther’s presence. It had been a while since they’d been this at ease around each other, even if they were arguing. “I- We just miss you. Things haven’t been the same in so long. It hasn’t really been a family since… you know.”

This would have made Esther fly off the handle a few days ago. But today? Today felt different. Joker was dead, and Jason… Jason was alive. Maybe. Yet to be confirmed. That black hole inside of her chest felt a little smaller today.

“Dick,” Esther glanced at his hand on the table before placing her own on top of it. Dick’s breathing stopped. “I know you can’t understand this, but when I watched Jason die, Esther Wayne died too. She’s gone. I’m just… Whatever remains.”

Dick nodded. He’d always known that to be true, yet as she held his hand for the first time in over a year, Dick felt like maybe whatever remained of Esther Wayne was still worth fighting for. She had this confidence about her, a spirit Esther had never had before.

He tried not to remember that that confidence was from killing people.

Esther squeezed his hand and sighed, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while, but with everything that happened last night, I need to tell you this now.” Dick swallowed in anticipation, “Dick, I forgave you a while ago for moving on when the Joker had me.”

Dick Grayson choked on his own air. “Y-you did?” He sputtered, and Esther nodded, unphased by his typical inability to function as an ordinary adult man. Once upon a time, she’d found it adorable. Now she found it a little… exhausting.

“Don’t get that look in your eyes, Dick.” Esther took a bite out of the apple slices on her plate, “When we were together, I betrayed myself so many times before you ever betrayed me. How could I have asked you to be true to me when I was never true to myself?”

“Essie-” Dick couldn’t look her in the eyes.

Esther motioned for him to wait, “I gave up so many pieces of me to be with you.” She gestured around the apartment which was covered in Christmas decorations. “I bought all these two years ago… I hate Christmas.” Dick opened his mouth to protest, but Essie continued, “I know you didn’t ask me to. But that’s what I mean. I wanted to be a girl you wanted so badly that I willingly gave up on just being me.”

There was a moment of quiet as Dick looked at her. Esther Wayne had changed so much in more ways than one. It felt almost like he was meeting her for the first time, yet it also felt like she was somehow breaking up with him again?

And then she did something unexpected. Esther smiled. “All of this, despite how terrible it’s been, made me not want to hide anymore. Even if I have to physically hide to do so.” She laughed.

“It sounds like you’re dumping me, which is honestly impressive, seeing as we haven’t been together for over a year now,” Dick smirked.

“Look at me,” Esther commanded softly, and he obeyed, finally looking into her dark gray eyes with his ocean blue ones. She was still so beautiful, even after all this time. “I’ve known you longer than anyone. I hope… One day we can be friends again.”

She removed her hand from his as Esther stood to clean off her plate, but Dick wished she’d have held it just a few moments longer. He watched as Esther washed her dish, thinking to himself how much he wished they could go back to being more than just friends. Just one more chance.

“Well, we can be a family again, too, if you’re still here when Bruce arrives.” He jested and watched as she bristled. 

“Hard pass.” Esther grumbled, “Which reminds me. I can’t exactly leave here in pajamas or in my bloody suit, so….”

Dick Grayson rolled his eyes, “I think I have some of your old clothes packed away.” He gestured for her to follow her, and as he walked towards his closet, Dick wished she wouldn’t take them. She was slowly disappearing from this place, and Dick feared the day Esther was completely gone.

The day Esther wouldn’t need him anymore.

…

Esther smoothed out the fabric of her pants as she walked down the apartment building stairs. These were actually clothes she’d bought herself that her old stylist had never let her wear. 

There was a mirror on one of the landings, and Esther stopped to look at herself. Her hair was still short since the Joker had cut it the year prior, but now she’d styled it into a shaggy mullet. 

For most of her life, someone told her what to wear and how to look. Bruce had turned her into a pop icon like she was nothing more profound than a Kardashian. It had been a good cover; who’d suspect the ditsy socialite to be a midnight vigilante? Yet it seemed unfair; Bruce Wayne got to be a bachelor that was also a genius businessman. 

Esther Wayne adjusted the oversized t-shirt that was layered over a loose hoodie. Her tan cargo pants were extra loose on her since she’d lost weight from when she’d purchased them. And the converse taken were a pair Esther had bought two days before the Joker took her. She’d never gotten to wear them.

It felt good to look in the mirror for once and like what she saw. The past year had been nothing but comfortable clothes she could fight in, and the years before that were spent in clothes so tight she could hardly breathe. For once, looking in the mirror, Esther saw only her. 

The clock on the wall of the hallway caught her attention; there were mere minutes before Bruce was supposed to arrive. Esther swallowed hard; she needed to stop wasting time.

Bolting down the stairs, Essie gripped the straps of the backpack that held her suit and weapons. Dick had given her one of his old college bags, but the Khopesh had barely fit, and the blade was poking into her back.

Just as her feet hit the pavement outside, she noticed the reporters. Damn. Esther had walked right into that.

“The anonymous tip said he’d be here any minute-”

An annoyingly familiar voice caught her attention, and before Esther could slip away, Vicki Vale made eye contact. Double damn. 

“Esther Wayne?” Vicki’s voice was surprised but coy. Esther loathed this woman. But Esther had no time to tuck her tail and run before the cameras were snapping pictures of her. She blinked from the bright flash.

“It’s literally the middle of the day.” Esther used her fingers to shield herself from the lights, “Why the flash?” Her tone was irritated.

Vicki stepped towards her and looked Essie up and down. “We haven’t seen you in a while. I heard from a little birdy that you ran away to South Korea to study abroad. You look… Erm, different.”

Hmm. That must have been the story Bruce came up with to explain her absence. “Uh, gamsahaeyo?” Esther replied she’d learned Korean as a kid. Along with a couple other languages. She didn’t excel in many school subjects, but Essie had a knack for languages. “And is it considered ‘running away’ to study abroad these days? Wow, Gotham’s changed so much.” She feigned an airy voice and Vicki squinted. It wasn’t hard to tell that Esther was mocking her.

Vicki glanced at the building behind Esther before smirking, “A bit early in the morning to be at Dick Grayson’s apartment, isn’t it?” Esther internally rolled her eyes. “Can Gotham assume its favorite love birds are giving it yet another go?”

“No.” Esther snapped at her; for years, Vicki had made it her personal vendetta to embarrass her to the city, but Esther wasn’t pretending to be an airhead anymore. She was sick of it. “How about you and Jack Ryder? Married yet? Or are you still holding on to that engagement ring while he’s getting mouth fucked by the secretary under his desk on the morning news?”

Vicki gaped. Esther Wayne had always let her step all over her; it was part of the charade. Vicki didn’t realize she’d been in over her head for years. “Why, you little-”

“Vicki, always a pleasure. Glad you got to catch my little sister on her way back from the airport.”

Triple damn.

Vicki Vale had held Esther up, and time was out.

Bruce Wayne had made his way around Vicki’s crew and placed a firm hand on Esther’s shoulder. His grip was incredibly tight and sent a clear message. There’s no running.

Vicki was caught off guard and rushed to speak, “Mr. Wayne, what do you have to say about the news this morning? Since Joker’s presumed death, Wayne's stock value has increased by twelve percent. What do you believe the connection of that to be?”

“I’d love to set up an interview sometime. But as you can see, my sister is tired, and I’d really like to have a word with her after months apart...” As Bruce spoke, Esther blurred out whatever he was saying. It was probably something generically charming anyway. 

Why did the reporters only ever ask her about dating and fashion while Bruce got asked questions about the company? Esther held only one share less than her brother. Just another thing that pissed her off.

Those thoughts were cut off as Bruce’s hand pulled her back into the apartment building. Before the door shut behind her Esther turned around and threw Vicki the middle finger, “Najung-e, gaenyeon-a!”

The moment the doors shut behind Bruce and he’d checked that the coast was clear, that dashing smile disappeared. To anyone else, his expression might have looked blank, but the pulse in his temple told Esther a very different story.

Bruce was livid.

“Was it you-?”

“No.” Esther smacked his hand off of her shoulder. Bruce towered above her, and once upon a time, seeing him this angry with her would make her recoil, but now, after everything, she found it almost funny. “I didn’t do it. But I wish I had.” Her lip curled as she snarled at him.

“You don’t get it.” Bruce’s tone was dangerous, but Esther didn’t waver. “This city is about to be torn apart as every Crime Boss in Gotham fights over the Joker’s turf. And maybe you didn’t kill Joker, but explain to me why I found Bane’s body floating in the Gotham river.”

Esther hesitated, “That-”

“Don’t say it wasn’t you. I checked dental records against the chunk bitten out of his neck, and yours was the only match.” Bruce glared down at her, and Esther finally looked away. “I see you’re taking this ‘wolf’ thing a little too literally.” Oh, that was rich coming from him.

“I didn’t have a choice.” Esther said, “He was about to pop my head off like a barbie doll.” The air in this lobby smelled like dust and pennies; it made her head ache. “I- I wasn’t really a match for him.”

Bruce scanned her body. Sure enough, Esther looked roughed up. She hunched slightly to the side, indicating that she probably had a bruised rib. “There’s always a choice, Esther. I trained you better than this. You know what you’re choosing.” He grumbled. Esther looked sick, her skin a bit paler than usual. There was a slight red rash creeping up her neck. “Did you ingest Bane’s Venom when you bit him?”

Esther’s ear twitched at the tinge of concern in his voice. “I’m fine. It wears off in a couple hours.” His words about Gotham becoming a war zone had struck a chord. She’d thought Joker hadn’t gained enough influence for that to happen, but that was just hopeful thinking.

“If you didn’t kill Joker, then who did?” Bruce inquired an edge to his voice again. “It could be someone more dangerous than Joker.”

“What?” Esther’s eye twitched, “More dangerous than Joker? What a fucking joke. I’m sorry. Are you just upset cause someone murdered your soulmate?” She felt bad as soon as she said it, but sometimes it was hard not to believe that Bruce was just as obsessed with the Joker as Joker was with Batman. Esther sighed, “I can’t tell you.”

And that was true. To tell Bruce would put him on the Red Hood’s trail. On Jason’s trail. She couldn’t do that without knowing what Jason’s game plan was or Esther risked ruining it.

Bruce glared at her, “So now we don’t just murder people, we’re protecting other killers too? Where is the line going to be drawn, Esther?”

Now the vein in Esther’s forehead was pulsing. “Not everything in Gotham concerns you, Bruce. Especially when you won’t take the steps necessary to keep Gotham safe. And I only kill people who deserve it-”

“Who are you to decide that?”

“If they line themselves up with people like Joker, that’s all the evidence I need-”

”Killing people isn’t going to bring Jason back, Esther.”

“You wanna bet?”

The air in the lobby went thick at her last couple words, their voices had raised significantly, and Esther was on her tiptoes with her chin up, her stare unrelenting when she realized what she’d just said.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Bruce squinted. 

“Nothing,” Esther grumbled, turning on her heel to leave.

“Where are you going? We’re not done here.” Bruce grabbed her arm, and Esther ripped it aggressively from his grasp.

“What’re you going to do, arrest me?” They both knew that wasn’t possible. To arrest Esther would mean exposing Bruce Wayne as Batman. “Give Alfred my love. It’s been a pleasure, as always.”

And with that, Esther took one last look at her fuming older brother before ducking out of the room.

…

Gotham was buzzing.

The Joker was dead. Sure, not all of the city’s problems were gone, but one of the cruelest, worst ones was. 

People were smiling on the street, stopping to show friends the article on their phones. Esther couldn’t walk ten feet without hearing people talking about it.

A part of her was still upset about someone else killing him. If it really had been Jason last night, she supposed he deserved to be the one to kill Joker. But didn’t she deserve it a little bit too?

Esther had circled a couple different blocks to be sure Bruce wasn’t tailing her, and she’d checked twice to see if he’d left any bugs or trackers. After pulling one off her book bag, it seemed she was in the clear.  

Gotham, in the daylight, was a completely different place.

The dusting of snow was turning to slush on the busy streets, and city workers rushed to put up final Christmas decorations for the upcoming parade.

During the daytime, Esther was often asleep, researching new leads, training, or working undercover to infiltrate different crime families. But today, she was simply walking around the city. She found herself down at the docks, walking along the old wooden piers. Esther had been here many times in the past. Often with someone by her side.

“If you don’t stop laughing, someone’s going to call the cops.” Jason clamped a hand over the squirming girl’s mouth.

Esther Wayne stared at him through half-lidded eyes, her chest shaking from her giggles. “Mmkay.” His hand muffled the word, which he removed as her body stilled a bit.

The two teenagers were sitting in a small paddle boat underneath the dock. Jason had packed it with blankets so they wouldn’t get cold. A trick he’d come up with a while back after this had become a regular spot for them to go.

It wasn’t too cold that spring night, just a bit wet from the morning's rain. Esther reached across Jason’s lap and snatched the joint from his fingers, quick to take another draw before flicking the dead bud into the water.

“Oh, nice.” Jason rolled his red-tinged eyes, “You always take the last hit.”

“And you always take twice the hits that I do.” Esther fired back, stretching her legs along the bottom of the boat, reveling in how extra soft the blankets felt against her skin.

Jason ruffled her hair, “It’s not my fault that you’re a lightweight.”

“It’s not my fault that you grew to twice my size last summer. Fucking giraffe.” Esther’s laugh rang through the dock again, and this time she clamped her own hand over her mouth, “Be quiet, Esther.” She scolded herself, causing Jason to laugh with her.

“I don’t get it.” Jay reached into his backpack and pulled out a bag of cheese Bugles and two silver Rockstars. She raised an eyebrow at him, urging him to go on. “Why are you only a little shit with me?”

Esther snatched up her drink and huffed, “One: You know I like the red one, and you always get the stupid silvers. And two: I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The can hissed as she popped it open and took a long gulp.

Jason did the same before staring at her. The red around his iris only served to make the green in his eyes a little more vibrant. “Oh, come on. You totally pretend to be someone else all day, but at night when it’s just us, You’re so fucking weird.” He laughed, subconsciously pulling one of the blankets up to sit around Esther’s waist a little bit higher in case she was cold. When Esther gave him an incredulous look, Jason smirked. “You’re telling me that you’d smoke weed with Dick?” 

Shame pulled at Esther’s heart, “So what? That’s a normal thing to keep private.” But she knew he was right.

“Okay, different example. Vicki Vale on the way to school this morning. She literally asked what your advice to other ‘abnormally tall’ teenage girls was. Now, the Esther I know would have commented about how she was wearing the same clothes from yesterday’s afternoon news, but instead, you smiled like a dweeb and said, ‘just wear styles flattering to your body shape'.” Jason raised the pitch of his voice to imitate hers, and Esther stifled a laugh.

“Vicki Vale is a vile bitch who’s dating Jack Ryder. On a scale of one to ten of hotness, that douchebag Ryder is an imaginary number. So I wouldn’t exactly say she’s winning at life.” Esther stuck her tongue out at the thought of that little witch before grabbing a handful of Bugles and shoving them into her mouth. 

“That’s exactly what I mean!” Jason said, “When it’s just you and me, you say fucking funny shit like that. But you’re a goody-goody all over again if anyone else is around.” Jason wondered silently where he fell on her ‘hotness scale’.

Esther shrugged, “I don’t know, Red.” She drowned her Bugles with her energy drink, wishing they hadn’t burned through that joint so quickly. 

He had a point, though. Whenever she tried to be herself at home, she seemed to let other people down. ‘Esther, chill out.’ ‘Esther, act like a lady.’ And then there was Dick. She wanted him to notice her so badly, to see her as someone worthy of his time. Esther loved when he talked to her about improving herself and how hopeful he spoke of her. His attention felt like a gulp of air in her otherwise drowning existence. 

Silence fell over them, but that was okay. They often sat quietly, neither feeling the need to say unnecessary words. After a moment, Esther heaved, “I just want to be easy to understand.” Jason snapped his attention to her, studying her face as Esther glared at the label of her Rockstar. “Whenever I’m ‘just me,’ everyone says something like, ‘I don’t understand you’ or ‘why are you like this’?” She said, “Don’t they know that hurts?”

Jay could hear the strain in her voice. He hadn’t meant to kill the vibe, but this had been on his mind for a while. “But you’re ‘just you’ when it’s the two of us?”

There was a moment as Esther considered that before a smile snuck onto her lips. “Well,” Suddenly, she threw her arms around Jason’s shoulders and placed a saccharine kiss on his cheek, “That’s because you’re my soulmate, Jason Todd.”

Red rushed into Jason’s cheeks, his face burning up. That was weird. He didn’t usually get bashful like that. Normally he’d push her off and tell her how annoying she was. This time though, he savored the moment for just a second. “Whatever, loser.”

It was starting to snow again, snowflakes floating all around Esther, a few landing on her dark lashes. That memory felt so bittersweet. 

As Esther walked along the Gotham River, she felt a bit silly. Stupid, even. It had always been so apparent that Jason liked her.

The cold started to nip at her bare fingers when the burner phone in her pocket buzzed. Esther pulled it out and read the text she’d just received.

“So, are you dead? J’s been all over the news today but I haven’t heard from you. Let me know, xx.”

That’s right. Esther had never gotten back to her secret ally since they told her Joker’s location the night before. Essie quickly typed out a reply and sent it back.

“Alive.”

Her phone buzzed again a moment later.

“Always a lady of many words. That’s what I love about you. Drinks to celebrate?”

Esther blinked. Up until now, it had been strictly business with this person. But now that Joker is dead, a celebration might be in order. And it might not hurt to see if they had some intel on Red Hood, so she could start to piece together what Jason was playing at.

“Sure.” Essie slicked send and rolled her eyes at the text she received next.

“Wear something black and sexy.”

…

Damn, this bar was sleazy, but Esther had come to expect that from her contact at this point.

Esther’s body was exhausted. She’d gotten caught up earlier doing errands to do this meet-up that she hadn’t had any time to go back to her hideout and rest up or drop off her stuff. Which is why the backpack she’d placed behind the bar was literally bursting at the seams with her shit.

The bar was dark and grungy. The loud music made her head pound. At least her rashes had gone away, though.

Esther knew better by now than to ignore this contact’s requests, which is why she’d gone and bought some black clothes on the way here. A pair of low-rise baggy cargo pants (she was getting quite the collection of cargo pants), an oversized NASCAR jacket, and a bralette as a top. The all-black ensemble made her pale skin glow in the bar's red lighting.

The contact wasn’t here yet, and Esther adjusted the black bandana covering her head. It’s not like Esther could meet up with this person without being in disguise. Which is why she’d had to go and get some heavy makeup done, buy brown eye contacts, and why she had to wear these stupid fake nails.

As Clark Kent would say, ‘people don’t notice half of what you think they do,’ which is why he could slap on a pair of glasses and no one could figure out that he’s Superman. 

This was why with a lot of contouring, a heavy black eyeshadow, a bold lip, and an annoying pair of sunglasses, no one had recognized her as Esther Wayne. Just a weirdo who wore sunglasses at night.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my favorite vigilante.” The heavy Gotham accent dripped with confidence, and Esther watched as Harley Quinn slid into the chair next to her.

Some explanation might be helpful here. A few years back, Bat-Girl had been tipped off that Harley Quinn was going on a murder spree through Bludhaven. So Esther had shown up where Harley was hiding, only to find her a hysterical mess, her face heavily beaten up.

The Bat-Girl had chosen to take mercy on her and sat down and talked to her. Only to find out that Harley had been abandoned by the Joker only to find out that she was pregnant. Esther remembered sitting there, knowing all the horrible things Harley had done, yet felt nothing but pity for her.

So Esther had helped Harley find a safe, discreet clinic to get treatment and would check in on her as Bat-Girl every so often. When Joker took her and Jason, Harley tried to help Batman locate Bat-Girl. 

After going rogue, Esther revealed only to Harley that She-Wolf had once been Bat-Girl. Harley Quinn was helping her to get revenge on the people who tormented Esther, but a strange friendship had bloomed between them.

“You know, one of these days, you’re going to stop comin’ here in that get-up. I pinky-promise I won’t tell no one who you are.” Harley whined, her pale white skin practically glowing in the dimly lit room. She said this every time they saw each other. “If you’re rollin’ your eyes, I can’t tell.”

Esther had been.

Harley was in a skimpy reflective black dress, her tattooed body on full display. The one thing Essie had always been jealous of Harley for was her confidence. Harley certainly never felt ashamed of her body. Although Harls was definitely toned down seeing as she was a wanted woman.

“So, did you just want to match or..?” Esther nodded to their twinning black get-up.

“It’s a funeral, BFG!” Harley giggled, “Rest in sufferin’, Mr.J!” The white-blonde-haired woman was beaming, but then, when wasn’t she? She reached over the bar and pulled out a bottle of vodka, “Put it on my tab, Steve. Let’s drink to that wretched old bastard!”

…

A few shots later and Harley’s fingers were inside Esther’s mouth.

“I don’t see any flesh chunks in there.” Harley pouted and stopped holding Essie’s mouth wide open. Essie flexed her jaw, her eyes becoming heavy. Truthfully, she didn’t really like to drink; it just made her sluggish. “You better not be pullin’ my leg, BFG.”

“I’m not!” Esther slurred a little bit. “It tasted so bad.” A question was nagging at her, though. “Why do you call me BFG?”

Harley Quinn laughed, “You’re the big friendly giant!” Usually, Esther would be mortified but somehow, coming from Harley, that was actually funny.

Essie covered her mouth as she chortled, “I’m only six inches above the national average.” She said before deciding now was as good a time as any to ask Harley some questions, “Hey, sidenote, have you heard anything about a guy calling himself Red Hood?”

“Aw, business talk?” Harley huffed, drowning another cherry-flavored shot. This woman was a tank. With a sigh, she set her shot glass down, “Yeah, he’s offered protection to some of the smaller mob families from Penguin, Dent, and Black Mask’s guys. In return, they give him a cut of everything and let him use their men. Enough have agreed that he’s risen the ranks pretty quickly. Rumor has it that Black Mask is especially pissed about it and is coming at the guy hard.” Her eyes narrowed, “Why?”

The music filled the silence as Esther bit her lip. “Anything else?”

“Uh ah.” Quinn shook her head, “No deal, BFG. I ain’t tellin’ you nothin’ more unless you tell me why. You’ve neva asked about him before. You two have a little run-in or somethin’?”

Esther tapped the side of her glass with her fingernail, her leg shaking under the bar. “I, uh, yeah, I mean, kind of.” She didn’t want to let Harley down by telling her it had actually been Red Hood that killed the joker.

“Oh my god.” Harley grabbed Essie’s arm suddenly; her face looked like it was going to split in two from her grin. “Ya want to fuck ‘im.”

“What?!” Essie practically screamed before clamping a hand over her own mouth. Esther’s face was turning a bright shade of pink. “No!” She whisper-yelled.

“Come on, BFG. When was the last time you were fucked?” Too damn long ago, but Harley didn’t need to know that. “If ya need to get laid that bad, I can always hook ya up with a friend of Ivy’s. It’s a plant, but, ya know, if you’re that desperate-”

“Harley, please, it’s not like that.” Esther pleaded, taking another shot to forget this absolutely mortifying moment. “I-I, I’m not in the mental space for that kind of thing.”

“Why not? ‘Cause of Robin?” The moment Harley said it, the other girl went silent.“‘Cause ya loved ‘em?”

As if Esther could turn any redder, “Harls, no. It- It was never like that-”

“I know what ya said. He was your best friend before Mr.J killed ‘em. But let me ask ya somethin’; In the past year, after all this time killin’ in the name of your dead friend, have ya even thought about datin’?”

No. Of course not. Losing Jason had consumed her. He’d died without her ever knowing how it would’ve felt to be loved by him. That tormented her every night. To even think about dating at the moment felt hollow and cold. 

Her expression must’ve tipped Harley off to the answer, “Right, that’s what I thought. And I’m willing to bet it’s cause you’ve been in too much pain to even consider it?” When Esther nodded, Harley sighed longingly, “Only love hurts like that, sweetheart. Only love.”

This bar suddenly felt stuffy, like it was ten degrees too hot.

“I’ll tell ya about old Red Face but you gotta promise me you’re gonna get yourself some fuckin’ action.” Harley held out her pinky, and Esther begrudgingly hooked it in her own, “Mmkay. There is this other weird rumor. They say he’s workin’ fa someone. One of Falcone’s guys was tellin’ me that Red Hood’s boss has been real keen on that weird bakery that Falcone runs. He said, Red Hood’s been puttin’ some money into it and the business has been boomin’. Now.” Harley shifted in her seat, “I haven’t confirmed this yet, so don’t get ya panties in a twist, but I also heard that Red’s boss might be the same as whoever hired Joker to take you and the bird.”

“That’s true. I heard that myself.” Essie nodded but bit her cheek. She had known that but now, thinking about it, it didn’t make any sense. Why would Jason be working for the guy that hired the Joker to kill him? “That’s all?”

“That’s all.” Harley mimicked, “Jesus, I get no appreciation for all my hard work. Can we get plastered now?”

…

And plastered they got.

At least, Harley did. Esther just got relatively drunk. She hobbled around a little bit as she walked down the street alone.

Esther had walked Harley to her apartment that she shared with Ivy. Essie was, like, 85 percent sure that those two were fucking. The night air was undoubtedly below freezing, and it was still snowing. A thick layer of snowfall crunched beneath her feet. 

This was Esther’s favorite time of year. The biting cold seeped into her bones; it pricked at her exposed skin. She must have looked crazy, walking the dark Gotham streets alone, but part of her dared someone to mess with her. 

As she careened in the darkness, Esther pulled her bandana and sunglasses from her face, dropping them carelessly on the street. In her buzzed mind, Essie remembered that she’d put a makeup wipe in her pocket earlier. “Thank you, sober Esther.” She slurred, pulling it out and ripping it from its packet.

It’s not that Essie minded how the makeup looked, but she loathed how it felt on her skin. As it melted onto the cloth, the frigid air seemed to caress her face more fiercely. 

The snow was now coming down in heavy flakes. As the cathedral came into view, Essie paused to look up at its gothic architecture. Sure, squatting in its attic wasn’t the ideal situation, but Esther couldn't think of a more beautiful sight on a night like this, with the snow reflected in the lamplight. 

To be fair, she couldn’t really think, period. Her brain was so sluggish, and her stomach felt like it was in a dryer. Esther didn’t feel like digging through the backpack to find her grapple hook, and she also didn’t trust her tits to not fall out of this ‘top’ if she did so. Glancing at her watch, Essie decided it was late enough that all the nuns would be asleep. It was nearly midnight, after all.

Crossing to the west side of the building, Esther counted three windows to the left. This was the one she always purposefully left unlocked. It took a matter of seconds before she’d hoisted herself through the sill and silently closed it behind her. 

Being careful to check around corners and be as quiet as possible, Esther stumbled up the flights of stairs, down the crowded storage room, and finally to the seemingly hidden door. It was warm in the church, so she slipped her leather racing jacket off her shoulders and carried it in her arms.

Brushing away cobwebs, Esther took a deep, exaggerated sigh of relief as she stepped into her haven. Only to freeze as a silhouette in the dim light startled her, but it took only a moment before she realized who was standing in her space.

Jason Todd.

He was in his Red Hood get-up, but his mask was sitting across the room on her desk. Jay was reading something, a red Rockstar in his left hand, a small notebook in the other. Essie recognized it immediately as her journal.

Desperately, Esther wanted to rush forward, smack it out of his hands, punch him, hug him… Do something to him. But she was frozen in place. Her jacket fell to the floor by her feet.

“Nice place.” Jason turned his head to look at her, eyes sweeping over her body. He bit the inside of his cheek as Jason took in the sight of her: Rosy cheeks, disheveled hair, and dressed like she had someone to impress. “And it’s rude to stare.” He said.

There was no helping that. How could she not stare at him? Esther had once believed she would never see his face again, those green eyes, that mischievous smile. He looked exactly as she remembered, and yet, a little bit different. Jay’s black hair now flaunted a white patch just above his left eyebrow, and he looked somehow even taller than she recalled. Maybe even… a little older?

Esther tried to muster words, something, anything. But nothing came. Instead, Esther quietly closed the door and dropped her bag on the floor next to her jacket. Her body swayed a little as she stepped towards him, her legs unsure.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Jason, who set his drink down on the floor. “Have you been drinking? Jesus, Essie, I’d hoped you’d spent the day resting.” His words landed on deaf ears as Esther took a few more slow strides until she stood inches away from him. Jason was completely facing her now, looking down to see her eyes wide and her lips parted. A part of him worried she was in shock again.

Esther’s fingers gradually rose, her breath hitching as they grazed his cheek. His eyes never once looked away from hers as she traced the white ‘J’ on the right side of his jaw. 

Finally, as her flesh touched his, the words came out. “Jason?” It wasn’t much, just his name, but Jason’s eyes fluttered. He’d almost forgotten how sweet his name sounded, rolling off her tongue. God, she smelled like alcohol, but no part of his body complained. Rather the opposite, actually.

“Hey, Cabbage.” His tone was playful, and Jason’s ears rejoiced at the sound of a half-laugh falling from her lips. In the darkly lit room, however, Jay could see that despite her laugh, Essie’s lower lip was quivering, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. “Why the long face?” He teased.

Esther hesitantly pulled her hands back from him, her skeptical mind winning for a moment, “Tell me something only Jason Todd could possibly know.”

The Red Hood loomed over her, holding her gaze, “The field trip to Metropolis-”

“Okay!” Esther interrupted, her face turning a deep shade of scarlet. She could feel herself sobering up a bit, her brain fighting to take back control, especially at the mention of that horrendous day, “Okay, it’s you.” Her breath faltered at the words, and she bit back tears, “It’s really you.”

Jason Todd stood in front of her after so long of wishing and longing for him.

But he looked away, suddenly unable to meet her watery eyes, guilt eating away at him, “I know what you’re going to say, Esther. How could I be alive? How could I keep it a secret from you?” She must be furious at him; Jason wouldn’t be surprised if she started cursing him out. Honestly, he hoped she did. Watching her stare at him in silence was killing him, “Say something; I know you’re mad-”

He stumbled back as Esther flung herself against his body, her arms wrapping tightly around his midriff. “Red,” Her voice was muffled into his chest, “My Red.” The pitch of her voice gave away that she was crying, and Jason frowned. 

Essie didn’t care that Jason had hidden from her? He couldn’t believe it, yet all Jason could hear in her voice was relief. Joy. Comfort. Jason’s frown relaxed, and he tightened his grip on her body, drowning his face in her soft black hair. The smell of her was intoxicating, especially after so long without it.

Her feet left the ground as Jason lifted her up, spinning her gently until a laugh bubbled up out of his chest. Jay laughed with her, his thoughts stilling for the first time in months as he held her in his arms. 

When Jason set her down, Esther had a hard time pulling away. Part of her was afraid that if she let him go, she would turn away and he’d evaporate. Instead, she opted to hold his cheeks in her palms, grinning up at him with tears running down her cheeks.

Gloves hit the floor as he pulled them off to wipe the salt water from her face, “What prick made you cry, Essie? I’ll kick his ass.” The corner of his lips curled up in a teasing smile.

Essie laughed again. She’d laughed more in the past few minutes than she had in months. “How?” Was all she could muster to ask.

Jason sighed, gripping her shoulders and bringing her to sit down on the edge of her bed. He pulled the chair from her desk and placed it, so he was facing her, their knees touching and hands interlocking again.

Their friendship had always been exceptionally touchy, but now Esther couldn’t bear to not have some part of him connected to her. 

“It’s… complicated.” Jason chewed on his lip, looking down at the ground. “I- I don’t really know where to start.”

“You died; start there.” Esther pressed, and Jason squinted.

“Well, see, that’s why it’s hard. Cause it technically started before then.” Esther stared at him expectantly and Jason continued, “It was them. The League of Shadows.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed at the mention of the League. They had been nothing but a source of pain and suffering in her life, and if she found out that they had something to do with all this, she wouldn’t rest until every last one of them was dead.

Jason saw the shift in her face, and he squeezed her hands, “Hold on, let me explain.” He said, “When we got taken, Ra’s al Ghul was in Gotham looking into some things. I guess Bruce was giving him too much trouble,” He spat Bruce’s name like a curse word. “So Ra’s needed a distraction. He was advised that Joker was the only one who could entertain Batman for an extended amount of time. But the Joker went off script and took us as his way of occupying Bruce. He probably didn’t realize how little we actually mean to that fucker.” Jason hissed.

Esther couldn’t say she blamed Jason for his strong feelings toward Bruce. After all, Esther, to this day, still wrestled with her anger towards her brother. And Jason didn’t even know about the Tim situation. It was probably better that he didn't.

His fingers toyed with hers, and she noticed a white line circling his middle finger. Wait, that had been the finger that Joker cut off. Was it… back? The line was definitely a scar, but if Esther remembered correctly, Joker had fed the finger to the rats. Her nimble fingers traced the white ring gently. 

“When I… died, Ra’s swapped my body out a few days after the funeral. And, well…” Jason looked away, his leg shaking nervously, “He… dipped me into his Lazurus pit.”

The room went silent as Esther’s stomach flipped. So Jason really had died. And Ra’s al Ghul had brought him back. The pupils of her eyes fluctuated, and her gaze darkened, “But why? Ra’s doesn’t let just anyone use those pits.”

“It wasn’t in his plan for Joker to take us. He felt guilty, I guess.” Jason’s answer almost made her laugh. Ra’s al Ghul never felt guilty. But Jason seemed almost like he was… defending him.

Esther’s eyes widened, “So it’s true, you’re working for him, aren’t you?” His lack of an answer was all she needed, “Jason, Ra’s is a psychopath. I don’t know what he’s been telling you, but-”

Jason sighed in frustration, “It’s not what he’s told me.” His tone grew cold, “It’s what he did.” His eyes narrowed as anger filled his chest, “Bruce let us suffer in there. He let me watch you wither away; let me wither away. He did nothing.” His voice was poisonous, “I’m only alive because of Ra’s.”

“Yeah, but I don’t understand. Ra’s riled Joker up and then unclipped him from his leash, and now you’re working for him?” Jason’s lip stiffened at her words, and he dropped her hands. “Jason,” Esther’s fingers reached up and stroked the hair hanging in front of his face, her tone softening in an attempt to keep him calm, “You’re alive; that’s all I should ask for.” And, of course, Jay melted into her. How could he not? “But I need to know that there’s a game plan to all of this. A reason. ‘Cause I can’t say that it’s making much sense as of right now.”

The touch of her fingers in his hair was like ecstasy. Everything felt different than before his ‘death.’ Esther had been his best friend for so long, but he’d never really realized what he meant to her. Jason had watched from a distance as she fell apart, only to rebuild herself into something stronger. To see this level of relief in her eyes, to know what lengths she had gone through to get revenge in his name… He bit his lip in hesitancy.

“I just… Need to see some things through.” Jason relented but was quick to add, “But I… You can’t get involved.” Esther dropped her hands, Jay flinching at the sudden loss. Her expression told him everything, “I can’t tell you everything right now; it would only put you in danger.”

“Put me in danger?” Esther stood up from the bed and began pacing the room, “You of all people should know that that doesn’t concern me.” Her face was one that was more familiar to him now: stubborn. It almost made him smile. “None of this makes any sense. Ra’s brought you back to life and has you playing gangster in the streets. He sicked the Joker on us to distract Bruce, but now he’s just buying up fucking bakeries around the city? Like he's playing fucking Cooking Mama? I don’t buy it.”

Pushing the seat back as he stood as well, Jason suddenly looked agitated, “Essie, you need to stop looking into all of this.” He said firmly, “I’m serious. No more.” Jason closed his eyes, coming to the conclusion that coming here may have been a bad idea. It had been selfish, but he’d just so desperately wanted to see her. 

“Why won’t you just let me come with you? I could help. Whatever it is that you’re trying to work out, Jason, I want to go with you.” Esther instinctively grabbed his hands, but he immediately tore them from her grasp. 

“I… can’t get involved with you, Essie.” Jason swallowed hard, turning his back on her, making it as though he was going to leave. “It’s better for you if we pretend you never knew I was alive.”

Esther’s heart plummeted. He was going to leave her again? Just like that? Was it really so easy for him? Her words left her lips before she could even hope to stop them.

 “Does that mean you don’t feel anything for me anymore?” The words hung in the air, Jay’s shoulders tensing up immediately. “I mean… I get it if you don’t… It’s been a long time, and so much is different. I just- It’s just that… what you said on day seventy-two, do you not feel that way anymore?”

The atmosphere felt like she could cut it with her khopesh. Jason turned around slowly, his lips curled up in an almost angry smirk. “Sometimes, Essie, your stupidity surprises even me.” Okay, ouch. That stung until Esther looked into his eyes and saw some mischievous fire burning inside them. “You really think that I’d go this long loving you, and something as trivial as dying could change the way I feel about you?”

His words melted her heart into a dripping, hot mess. He loved her. Jason Todd still loved her. After all this time. After all, that had changed. Through life and through death. He wanted her. The remains of her liquified heart leaked through her body and pooled in the pit of her stomach, twisting and turning there as her body reacted physically to what he’d said.

“But I just… I can’t, Essie. If I let you near me, you could really end up hurt. I don’t know when this will all be over, but… I don’t think I can see you again until it is for your own safety. There are a lot of things I’m willing to risk. But not you. Never you.” Jay’s tone had softened considerably, concern dripping off of his tongue. To hear him speak like this, in a way she’d never heard him talk to her before… Maybe it was the alcohol still running through her blood, but suddenly it felt like Esther’s skin was on fire.

Jay turned away again, unable to look her in the eyes.

Esther hated that. She hated every time he looked away. It wasn’t even twenty-four hours ago that Esther believed those eyes were gone forever. Esther didn’t want to lose sight of that forest green ever again. And for the past year that Jason had been gone, there’d been something that had been nagging the back of her head.

“I can’t do it again.” Her words came out quiet but clear. Yet, again, they stopped Jay dead in his tracks. When he turned back to Esther, there was a desperate look in her gray eyes. Jason studied her, silently wondering why he liked that subtly indignant expression on her pretty face. And not in a decent way.

“Do what?” Jason asked, his heart beating hard against his chest.

“I can’t go back to wondering what it would feel like to be loved by you.” It took every ounce of her courage to say those words. Esther was never the one to initiate anything, but she’d believed that opportunity to be missed, and now that she knew it wasn’t, Esther craved the chance to learn. “I’ve thought about it every day for over a year. Please,” She begged, “Don’t ask me to go back to that hell.”

Jason’s whole body was stiff as he watched her. He could hardly believe his ears. Never in his life did he think he would hear Esther Wayne beg for him. Jay could hear the blood rushing in his ears. 

“Stop.” His eyelids drooped slightly; Jay’s resolve was not strong when it came to her. He could feel his pulse all over his body. “You can’t- Don’t do this to me.” His fingers ran through his black hair, tugging at his nape as if trying to ground himself.

But Esther saw it all. She was so close to getting what she wanted, and her body seemed to know it as Essie’s arms moved of their own accord; Esther’s fingers reached up and twisted behind her back, Jason watching every movement. A second later, the bralette that had been her top this evening hung loosely from her shoulders, the clasp in the back now undone and useless. “Please, Red,” That damned nickname, “Show me.”

And just like that, whatever fight Jason had left in him crumbled. “Fuck this.”

He’d waited too fucking long for this moment as he strode forward and crashed his lips onto hers. Jay’s arms pulled Essie’s body impossibly close to his, his muscles flexing as his fingers dug into the skin of her back.

Jason’s lips devoured her, and Essie arched her back to match his same energy. Fuck, the way his tongue swept against her bottom lip made her wonder what other places she wanted his tongue to be. 

As Jay kissed her forcefully, he pushed her backward, the fingers behind her back pausing their exploration to rip the straps of her bra from her shoulders. The moment her chest was bare Jay froze once more, drinking this moment in.

How many times had he touched himself imagining this exact moment? How many nights had Jason hidden beneath his sheets, thinking about how perfect her tits probably were as he fucked into his own hand? 

And younger Jason had been right. They were perfect. His rough fingers ran over her soft rose petals, Essie’s nipples stiffening at their slightest touch.

The desire to be touched by Jason was only building; Esther pushed herself into his palms, biting her bottom lip as she watched him soak in the vision of her bare breasts. She was becoming painfully aware of her quickly soaked panties.

This desire didn’t go unnoticed. Jay smirked down at her; her tits looked small and delicate against his big hands. “You think you’re so fucking clever.” He spat at her, his breathing thick and heavy, “You always get whatever the fuck you want.”

Esther’s hands sprawled against his chest, and she breathed out a soft “I want you.” That was all the consent he needed as he pulled the hair at the back of her head, forcing her to look up at him into his beautiful emerald eyes that she had missed more than anything.

Jay leaned down and let his lips and nose brush against the tender skin of her exposed neck and clavicle, “Then that’s what you’re going to fucking get.” His tone was low and gravelly; his words were a promise that he was more than willing to keep.

His free hand hooked into her pants and let them drop down to expose the pair of panties she’d been wearing. Jay’s eyes darkened. He could see the outline of her pussy against the thin, seamless undies. 

With a soft push against her shoulders, Esther fell back against her mattress. Her eyes glimmered in the darkness as Jason peeled his top from his body. A look of shame crossed his expression for a moment, which she didn’t understand until her gaze trailed downwards. 

Scars. From their torture but also an enormous t-shaped scar etched across his massive chest. The autopsy stitches. Essie’s eyes followed the white lines downwards. His body, despite the markings, oozed sex appeal. It was perfectly sculpted, and Esther bit back a whine.

The embarrassed look on Jay’s face dropped immediately as he watched Esther pull her bottom lip between her teeth, look up at him innocently, and slowly open her legs until her covered center was completely exposed to him. A clear invitation.

Jay growled, “You want me to wreck you, don’t you?” He sat on the edge of the bed after she nodded, and he forcibly grabbed her legs to pull her until she was laid out belly down across his lap. “Okay, sweetness, but remember, you asked for it.” 

He was so dominant. Esther wasn’t used to it, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t love how he was manhandling her. Jason threw her around like she weighed nothing to him, driving Essie wild. 

His one arm snaked around her neck, steadying her against his chest as he brought his other hand to her face and traced her lips with his middle finger, “Suck.” He commanded, and Esther immediately obeyed, closing her eyes as she did. “Fuck. My little wild thing is being such a good girl for me.” Jay pulled his finger from her mouth and brought it down to her inner thighs, which Esther gladly parted for him. There was a little dark spot in the middle of her nude panties; her arousal getting the better of her.

Deciding he’d help relieve her a little, Jay pushed her underwear to the side and (pausing first to lick his lips at the sight of her pretty little pussy) sank his middle finger slowly and sensually into her cunt. Esther’s breath sucked in at finally being touched, where she craved it the most.

Her warmth surrounded his finger and Jason suddenly became very aware of how tight his pants were. Truthfully, his cock was aching, but there was nothing he wanted more in this world tonight than to see this woman’s body absolutely writhing around him, so that would just have to wait. Wait just a little bit longer.

 Esther made a sound like a sigh of relief as he gently finger fucked her, her back arching up in satisfaction. Jason added another finger and sped up his pace, kissing Essie’s head as her body tensed. When his fingers curled inside her, Esther gasped, “Fuck.” She whispered, but Jay heard it.

“What was that?” Jason smirked, pausing his movements. Esther whimpered, and his grin only grew. “Did you have something you wanted to say?”

The lack of his fingers made Esther huff in frustration. This body had not been touched in an impossibly long time, and it hungered for release. “Red,” Jay’s dick twitched at the sound of his nickname, “Please.”

That begging was enough for him. Jay happily pushed his fingers into her dripping wet pussy, not so worried about being gentle anymore, his rough skin offering sweet relief, “Use your words, Essie, or I’ll stop.” His pace slowed down, and she knew he wasn’t bluffing.

But it was so hard to breathe, let alone speak. Essie was putty in his arms, her fingers digging into his skin, Jason could see her face turning red as Esther’s hips jutted in attempts to match his pace, those rosy, flustered cheeks drove him wild. “Please,” She started again, a strand of her hair falling into her face, “Jason, please just fuck me,” she whined with a desperation he could almost feel. The weight of her words dug deep into his chest, lighting up a red-hot desire that he could have only Dreamt of feeling.

How could he possibly turn her down? 

Jason grabbed her by the waist, threw Essie off his lap, and pinned her down on the bed, her naked body pressed against the disheveled sheets. “I waited so long to hear you beg for me.” He groaned, using his knee to spread her legs underneath him. “I prayed so many times to show you what you were missing.”

“Show me.” Her voice was a raspy whimper laced with lust for the massive man above her.

Esther was desperate to feel his thick fingers roughly going in and out of her weeping cunt, her eyes looking up at him from beneath her dark lashes. God, she looked so pretty and fuckable. Jason ducked his head down, kissing a trail from her jaw down her chest; His tongue left a wet track on her skin, the cool air turning it electric. When Jay’s lips reached her tits, they had hardened and were surrounded by goosebumps.

That was it; Jason couldn’t take the strain of his dick against his pants. As he latched his lips onto her tender tit, Jay maneuvered his pants off and kicked them to the floor, now in nothing but his boxers, and even that was uncomfortable now.

Kissing down her midriff, Jason peeled his boxers off just as he came face to face with Esther’s sweet cunt. She was so gorgeous and perfect that he could just stare at her pussy for hours. His eyes glimmered as he looked up at her, his tongue slid across his upper lip achingly slowly, and Esther watched in strained anticipation. “Good thing you're a rich girl,” Jason smirked before tearing her panties to shreds in his massive hands.

There wasn’t even a moment to protest before Jay had latched his mouth to her wet folds, his eyes fluttering shut at her sweet taste on his tongue. God, this was better than he’d ever imagined it. Jason flexed his fingers roughly into the skin of her thigh as he held her open for him. 

Esther’s feet pointed into a beautiful arch as her body squirmed at Jason’s tongue. She’d been eaten out before, but this… fuck. Jason acted as though this was his first meal in months and planned on savoring every moment.

“O-Oh shit.” Essie’s lips pouted as Jason slipped a finger into her warm cunt, her hands falling to grip his skunk-striped hair. That drove him fucking wild, his eyes snapping open to gaze up at her. And holy shit, was she a sight to see, her cream thighs squeezing around him. Her mouth fell open in a silent moan.

Silent wasn’t good enough for Jason. He wanted Essie to wake up the nuns sleeping on the bottom floor. 

Jay’s tongue darted out and licked a long stripe along her pussy, the sensation drawing a sweet cry from Esther’s mouth. Jason was sure she was pulling his hair from his head, but that’s exactly how he wanted it.

His patience was running out as Jason’s cock dripped pre-cum onto the bed sheet beneath him. With a single push of his arms, Jay was at eye level with Essie again, interlocking their lips in a passionate kiss. Jay made sure she was able to taste her breathtaking pussy through the kiss. His breath hitched as her soft fingers traced his chest, so unused to the feeling of such caresses.

When they broke from their kiss, the head of Jason’s was pushing against her wet folds. Jason paused, “I should have asked this sooner, but… uh, do you… have a condom?”

“No.” Esther had an impish smile on her swollen lips, eyes sparkling, “I have an IUD.”

“Uh, a what?” Jason kissed the corner of Essie’s lips, loving that sly little smirk she wore. 

Essie's expression was sultry and innocent at the same time. Jay had never seen anything like it. It made his cock twitch in anticipation as she brought her lips to his ear and whispered, “It means… that you can come inside me.” Her voice was like honey on fire, Sweet and hot.

A growl fell from Jason’s mouth as his Cock achingly throbbed in anticipation, and his large hands closed around her neck, “I was fucking hoping you’d say that.” His fingers tightened, tracing her lips with the rough pad of his thumb. 

Jason’s other hand guided the head of his cock to her entrance, pausing to rub his tip against her clit. Electricity shot through Esther’s body as she let out the most beautiful and erotic moan he had ever heard. She pulled her lip between her teeth. Truthfully, she was nervous, Jason was… a lot bigger than she’d ever pictured… or experienced (Sorry Dick, but it’s true).

As if Jay sensed her hesitation, his thumb stroked her skin, and he placed a kiss on her pouty lips, “Relax, you can take it.”

Fuuuuuck. Essie nodded, knowing little else other than the fact that she needed Jason to be inside her. And he was going to oblige her.

The head of his thick cock pushed past her wet folds slowly, Jay’s eyes squeezing shut as he lost himself in the feeling of his dick being hugged by her tight cunt. “That’s it, sweetheart.” He groaned, already breathless, and Esther whimpered in pleasure at how full she felt. “Doin’ so good for me.” Jay opened his eyes as he bottomed out in her with an almost animalistic growl and took in the sight in front of him.

The bed sheets were sticking to Esther’s skin, and a thin layer of sweat covered every inch of flesh; her body glistened like fine silk. Essie’s hair had a damp look to it, sticking to her rosy face. Essie’s brows were scrunched up as she moaned out, “Jay-” Jason wanted nothing more than to sweep her into his arms and run away into the night with her forever. “Please, fuck me.”

Not losing a moment, Jason snapped his hips, eliciting a gasp from Esther, a gasp that turned into a low groan as he fucked into her roughly. Jay was losing his mind at the feeling of her tight walls around him. He couldn't compare the feeling of his longtime crush to anything else. “Oh, you feel even better than I imagined.” The words slipped from his lips, and Esther could barely process them as her body writhed underneath him.

He filled her up so well, hitting every spot inside her that she desperately needed him to. When Jason brought his fingers to play with her clit, Esther’s back lifted off the mattress, and her fingers clawed at his back. Jason didn’t mind a few more scars if they were from her. “Jason…” She couldn’t even finish her thought as he picked up his pace, and a string of curses tumbled from her tongue as she struggled to keep her mind from turning into mush as Jason's fat cock destroyed her insides in the best way possible.

“You like it hard, don’t you?” Jason smirked and decided he would give her exactly what she wanted. He adjusted his position, using both his hands to hold her hips up off the sheets before pounding into her harshly.

The new angle made her stomach twist, and Esther practically screamed Jason’s name, clamping her hand over her own mouth in an attempt to stay quiet. The sound of his cock penetrating her dripping cunt was absolutely sinful, and Esther felt her head go cloudy. “That feels so fucking good, Red.” 

“Yea?” Jason grunted, slowing his movements, “I feel good?” Those innocent eyes never left his as Essie nodded. A devilish smile formed on his face as he rutted slowly and deeply into her, “Better than Dick?”

His words caught Esther by surprise, and she felt fire erupt in her blood, but just as Jay asked it, his slow penetrating stopped, and suddenly he was fucking her into the mattress, his hips snapping mercilessly against her. Esther struggled for breath, struggled to think. Jason was literally fucking the thoughts from her brain. “I, uh- oh, fuck- Jason!” Esther buried her face into his shoulder, whining against the sticky hot skin. She could feel her legs shaking around him.

His unrelenting pounding was all Essie could focus on until he released one hand from her hip to smack against her thigh, the sting sending waves through her core. “Am I, sweetheart? Am I fucking you better than he did?” Esther’s mouth fell open in silent moans, “I shared a wall with that fucker,” He spoke through his own heavy breaths, “How many times did I hear you two, knowing I could do it better.” Jay used his free hand to go back to his ministrations on her clit, Esther biting into her fingers to keep from screaming again. “Did he fuck you like this, Essie?”

“No!” Esther cried as her climax quickly approached, “No, Jason!” She squeaked, “You fuck me better. You fuck me so perfect.” Jason almost came right then and there; he fucking knew it. And he waited so long for her to admit it. He bit his lip and dropped her onto the mattress to pin her thighs to the bed with his hands. The sudden change in position was the last straw for Essie, “Jay, Red, I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum, sweetheart. Cum for me.” Jay felt Esther suddenly clamp her thighs around his body, her body lifting off the bed as she writhed in ecstasy. Her pussy pulsed and clamped around his cock, and Jason sucked his breath in through his teeth as he leaned down and grunted into her neck, “Fuck, Essie.” Her moans didn’t stop because neither had Jason. He was fucking her right through her orgasm. 

Those gray eyes fluttered open, and he pushed the hair from her face, “Jay, please, cum inside me.” She begged, her fingers lacing into the hair at the nape of his neck.

With pleasure. Jason thought as he rutted into her just a few more times before groaning loudly and emptying his load deep inside her. Essie almost wanted to cum again at the feeling of his warmth spreading inside her, at the sight of Jason’s eyes squeezed shut, at the sound of squelching as Jason fucked her until his cum dripped onto the blankets. 

He came for an impossibly long time; even as he pulled himself from her spent pussy, ropes of cum shot into her. Esther drew him in for a sloppy kiss, their bodies molding together in blissful completion. “Fuck.” Jason mumbled into the pillow behind her, shifting his body, so he wasn’t crushing her, but he left his fingers tangled in her hair. “I’d say you’re going to be the death of me, but you already were.” 

It felt like her body was nothing but a puddle, but Esther laughed at his stupid joke. “You prick.” But her tone dripped with affection. Her neck couldn’t even support her head as it lulled to the side. Her eye caught on the Rockstar Jason had placed earlier on the ground, “How long did you tease me about liking the red one?” She grumbled, and Jason chucked.

“It goes with my suit.” He smirked, and Esther rolled her eyes. “Which,” Jason sighed, “I have to put back on.”

A frown etched itself onto Esther’s face, “Why?” Her arms tightened around his waist, and Jason wished more than anything that he could stay and make love to her all night.

“I’ve got an appointment with someone. I’m already late.” He rubbed at his face in exhaustion before sitting up and grabbing a t-shirt from the ground to wipe Esther off. “Trust me, if I didn’t have to be there, I’d be here with you.”

As Jay grabbed his suit and began to dress himself, Essie huffed, sitting up as well, “I’m coming with you-”

“No.” Jay’s tone was firm, not that that scared Essie. “I knew you’d say that.” His voice softened as he unclipped something from his suit and handed it to her. It looked like some kind of chip, “You need to sleep, you GMO-riddled broccoli.” She shot him a death glare which he ignored as he took the chip back and installed it onto her phone, “This is connected to my suits life support systems. If you get worried, you can look, and it will show you I’m okay.” Jay tossed the phone onto her lap.

Her phone lit up and showed the blank screen of a heart rate and blood pressure monitor. As Jason zipped up his suit, the screen suddenly came to life with his stats. “I could just follow you.” Esther griped, and Jason rolled his eyes. He knew she wouldn’t; Essie looked absolutely destroyed. A fact he was pretty proud of. “What if you need to make a quick getaway?” She challenged.

“I’ve got a bike for that.” Jason downed the rest of his previously forgotten drink and clipped on all of his weapons. “I’ve been doing this alone for months, Essie, just like you. But if I think you’re out there trying to find me, I won’t be able to focus. And then I will get hurt.” Jay knelt by the side of the bed, “I promise you, I will be here when you wake up.” He pressed a kiss to Esther’s warm forehead, his hands stroking her naked thigh before laying a blanket sweetly over her.

Essie grumbled in defeat, holding her phone close to her chest, “Fine.”

“Good girl.” Jason grinned, standing up and walking to the latch that led to the bell tower, “I’ll bring you back a menorah. I’m shocked you don’t already have one.” His voice shifted as he put his mask on, the voice scrambler activating. “We’re four days into Hanukkah already, you poser.”

His jab made Esther laugh into her pillow; her eyes suddenly felt so, so heavy. “It’s called a hanukkiyah.” She grumbled, barely hearing what Jason Todd said before disappearing from the room.

“I missed you so much, Esther Wayne.”

…

Once again, Esther was stirred from her peaceful sleep by the warm beams of sunlight that flooded through the small stained glass window at the apex of the roof. This time, however, Esther felt no urge to stay asleep. Because this time, Jason Todd would be in bed next to her.

Essie reached out her arm and searched for the other body that was supposed to be in bed with her. But all she found were empty sheets. Her eyes shot open and Esther sat up in an instant, scanning the bed and then the room.

There was no sign of Jason. No indication that he’d even returned that morning. Her breathing went rapid as Esther swallowed hard. Jason Todd never broke promises. Not once in all her years of knowing him. 

Snatching her phone from where it had laid beside her in her sleep, Esther flicked it on and felt the blood freeze in her veins as the screen blinked red and showed dangerously chaotic vitals. Vitals that were dropping.

Fuck.

tags: @niphredil-14 @honeybee54321

[twistedtummies2]

Gathering of the Greatest Gumshoes - Number 2

Welcome to A Gathering of the Greatest Gumshoes! During this month-long event, I’ve been counting down my Top 31 Favorite Fictional Detectives, from movies, television, literature, video games, and more!

We’ve reached our penultimate choice in the countdown!

SLEUTH-OF-THE-DAY’S QUOTE: “I Am Vengeance.”

Number 2 is…Batman.

As I said in my rules at the start of this event, I wouldn’t be counting characters I consider more “superhero” than “detective.” HOWEVER, some exceptions do apply: I spoke of the Question in my Honorable Mentions, and Rorschach and the Shadow earlier in the main countdown. These are all characters you could classify as “super detectives”: where they do count in the vein of superheroes (or, at least, pulp-style heroes), but also do qualify as detectives, by virtue of them BEING detectives being a major character trait and element. Out of all the comic detectives out there, in the annals of superhero fiction and anything similar to it…I think it’s fair to say none are as well-known, or as well-enjoyed, as Batman.

Frankly, when a character gets their start in a comic series called “Detective Comics,” and one of their titles is “The World’s Greatest Detective,” I challenge anybody to say they DON’T count. :P

Anyway…I’m quite sure Batman hardly needs an introduction, especially for those familiar with my page, but I might as well go into the basics for anyone who’s been living under a rock for almost a hundred years: Batman is one of the most popular superheroes of all time, if not perhaps THE most popular. The fictional character’s biography is as follows: as a child, Bruce Wayne – the son of Thomas and Martha Wayne, a pair of wealthy philanthropists and the owners of a large and thriving corporation – saw his parents murdered by a mugger, shot down in a back alley. The experience scarred Bruce for life, and he vowed to symbolically avenge his parents’ murder by devoting the rest of his life to fighting crime. He wanted to make sure no other children would experience similar horrors, as long as he could prevent it. He studied forensics and various sciences, trained his body to peak physical perfection, and – inspired by the sight of a bat flying through his window one night (bats being a phobia of his as a boy) – the now-adult Bruce chose to adopt the image of a bat as his motif. He thus became Batman – the Dark Knight, the Caped Crusader – a mysterious vigilante who stalks the streets of Gotham City, facing everything from mad supervillains to common hoodlums, in a neverending war against crime.

The real-life origins of Batman are almost as interesting as his fictional beginnings. Batman was created due to the popularity of Superman, whom many consider to be the first TRUE superhero. DC (which went under another company name at the time, for the record) wanted to create another superhero who could match the Man of Steel. Artist Bob Kane and writer Bill Finger, taking inspiration from various places, jointly created this new character…although I should state that, for a very long time, Kane took sole credit for the matter. (By all accounts, Bob Kane was something of a swindler behind the scenes; for example, Batman’s very first appearance was a direct ripoff of a Shadow magazine story, and this apparently was Kane’s idea.) The thought process behind Batman was to go the opposite direction of Superman: if the Man of Tomorrow was bright and colorful, then the Dark Knight would need to be Gothic and shadowy. If Superman was bold and jocular, then Batman would be stoic and sardonic. Where Clark Kent came from ostensibly humble beginnings, Bruce Wayne would come from wealth and stature. And of course, while Superman had almost Godlike superhuman abilities…Batman, rather famously, was the first “proper” superhero to have NO powers at all.

This is the point where Batman’s abilities as a detective very much come into play. Because for all of the many things you can point to for Bruce Wayne’s success as a crimefighter, I think it all comes down to him, again, being a sort of “super detective.” Even the Shadow, Batman’s chiefest inspirational source, had arcane abilities at his disposal: Bruce Wayne has no otherworldly talents at all. He’s simply a man, with a boatload of money, a brilliant mind, and a LOT of stubborn determination. Many of the best takes on Batman use their mind, not just their fists and gadgets, to tackle problems: he searches for clues to track down culprits, analyzes the way certain criminals tend to operate in order to guess their next move, and frequently uses his wits to outmatch them and find ways to defeat them. Whether he’s facing mortal foes like the Joker or Catwoman, or superhuman beings like Clayface or the Orca, Batman’s greatest asset is that he thinks everything through, and keeps track of everything he’s learned, so he can pursue, battle, and capture the enemies he faces.

To say Batman has been adapted to other media beyond the comics, or even that the comics have continued to evolve and be printed as time goes on, is almost a redundant fact. Indeed, Batman has become one of the most frequently reimagined and re-interpreted characters in fiction; I believe he might be the single most frequently used and reused superhero, in particular, of all time. It’s gotten to a point where actors who get to play the character have declared him to be on par with such famous roles as Hamlet. Meanwhile, writers, critics, and psychologists have compared him to Greek heroes like Prometheus and Odysseus. When a character gains this much clout, and has lasted for so exceptionally long, with so many different interpretations – from colorful and campy to grim and gritty, from noir-esque to flashy and wild – I think they’ve more than earned their place VERY high in the ranks.

That and…well…I love Batman. A lot. So do I really need any of the other reasons I just described to begin with? XD

Tomorrow, the countdown concludes with my Number One pick!

CLUE: “Once you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.”