#jason todd having stage fright

[escelia]

New Sibling Just Dropped

Or Danny gets willingly isekai'd into the DCU and gets a twin out of it.

I know I disappeared from the face of the earth for a bit there, and there's stuff I should probably be updating, but I come baring different stuff this time :D

Just started this for fun, and I have at least one other chapter of it done, but idk how long this bout of inspiration will last, so I'm just rolling with it for now.

@flamingpudding look! i pulled a jason todd and rose from the grave!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny was tired. The kind of tired you felt behind your eyes and in your bones, and weighed heavy with achievement. He was perched on the edge of a building in his ghost form looking over Amity Park with a soft smile as he watched Youngblood run through the park with human children, Cujo playfully on their heels. His galaxy cloak (which had been a coronation gift) billowed around his lap like a gas with stars twinkling inside. 

It had been a few years now since he took up the Crown of Fire and became High King of the Infinite Realms, and while he had accomplished many things since then, graduating from high school wasn't something on that list. It sucked that he wouldn't get to walk across the stage with Sam and Tucker, but in the face of all he'd been able to do for both Amity and the Infinite Realms, it was worth it. They coexisted now. There was still trouble every now and then, but Danny had helped the ghosts who insisted on staying in Amity Park find a place in their city where they could thrive.

Youngblood watched over the children of the city, Box Ghost started a box recycling center, Lunch Lady started a program to get food to families that couldn't afford it, and Pointdexter started reporting bullying at the school since he was already there. 

On the Realms' side, Danny shut down Walker's prison. Since it was his lair, he couldn't take it away from him completely, but it no longer housed the many ghosts the warden had considered "rule breakers." He'd given Walker a new set of rules to enforce and essentially took him under his wing as a royal soldier, kept under the close watch of Fight Knight, who'd defected from Pariah Dark so fast after his defeat that it was laughable. 

He'd done something similar with Skulker, though he was a harder case to crack. Unlike Walker, who was happy as long as he had a set of rules to enforce, Skulker wanted to keep hunting. He'd been recruited forcefully by Walker and Fright Knight after they caught him on his way to fight Danny again.

All in all, everything had begun to run smoothly now. The fatigue weighing on him reminded him that it had been hard to accomplish, and continuing to lead his double life hadn't made it any less exhausting. A cold breath rushed through his chest as he felt a familiar presence slide up next to him. 

"You didn't time out," Danny pointed out without looking to face the ghost beside him. Clockwork hummed in acknowledgment.

"Sometimes it's pleasant to watch time flow in person." It was Danny's turn to hum at him. 

"How are you feeling?" The Ancient asked thoughtfully. The younger ghost tilted his head pensively. 

"It's hard to say. I'm tired, but I'm happy. And also sad..." he paused to gather his thoughts. "I feel like I've done everything I needed to."

But not everything he wanted to do. 

"Go on," Clockwork pressed. The teenager did turn his head now to make a face at his mentor. If the guy knew how he felt and what he was going to say, why would he say it out loud? But the other just arched a brow at him and waited.

"Fine," he pouted. "I've spent so much time and energy finding places for everyone here. The GIW are gone, my parents stopped hunting ghosts, Jazz got into the psychology program at Stanford, Sam and Tucker are graduating today... I helped make that happen, I know I did! But they're moving on without me. They're growing up and I don't feel like I am."  

'I don't feel like I'm ready.'

Danny stopped to take a breath and wipe away the icy tears gathering in his eyes. He felt stupid for crying over it. He was 17 for Ancients' sake! Jazz would have told him he grew up too fast, but he still felt like a child. He had no idea what he was doing! And yet! And yet... he felt...

"But you also feel ancient, right? Like you've been around too long and seen too much?" Clockwork said as though he were reading from a script. Danny sulked. Stupid time ghost with his dumb Time Stream TV or whatever. 

"Yeah..."

"All Ancients feel that way. Though you may be feeling unbalanced in more ways than one because of how young you died and the fact you are half human."

"What do you mean?" Danny turned his whole body to face him now, tucking his knees under his chin and circling his arms around them. His cloak moved with him in inky black wisps and settled around him again like clouds of galaxies. 

Clockworks form shifted to that of a child.

"You feel young because you died young. However, it is the nature of humans to grow and change. While you may have died at 14, your childhood died before that. You yearn to grow and learn, while also being an incredibly powerful Ancient."

He supposed that made sense. He recalled all the years cleaning the lab before the portal had even been built, and the fighting and neglect (Jazz's words, not his) that spawned his disdain of Christmas even longer before. He wanted to go back to school. He wanted a reason to love Christmas. He wanted pets and family dinners that didn't come alive. He wanted to grow up properly.

"But you still want to help people," the ghost said as though Danny had been talking out loud or having his mind read. 

"I hate it when you do that," Danny complained. Clockwork just smiled smugly.

"I know." He laughed at the glare Danny threw him. 

"I have a proposition for you," the older ghost began. Danny perked up in intrigue. "I know of another earth dimension with some problems that need to be addressed. Your role as High King puts you in a position to be helpful."

"Their problem has to do with the Realms?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. Ectoplasm from the Realms is pooling into what are referred to on their planet as Lazarus Pits. They are both helpful and harmful as they do not dissipate into the air so they continually collect and concentrate emotion, but they do sometimes revive the dead."

Danny grimaced in disgust at the thought of dunking a person into a stagnant pool of contaminated ectoplasm. "That sounds disgusting."

"Quite," Clockwork agreed. 

"So what's your proposition?"

"Well, if it is agreeable to you, I would like to de-age your physical form and place you with a family that's had dealings with the Pits firsthand. I've found them to be quite charming." 

"Ah, so you want me to go in undercover?" Danny couldn't help but roll his eyes a little. It wasn't a half bad idea. He could try his hand at childhood again and still get to handle his duties as King Phantom. Leading a double life again would be easy enough, it was just stepping from one role into another. 

"Not at all." Clockwork smiled knowingly. Danny was officially suspicious of his ghost guardian. "This planet has had all kinds of dealings with the occult, and even humans with superpowers isn't that unusual. While I would advise against telling anyone you are a king right away, you are in fact just that: a king. You may do what you wish." 

For an ancient and wise time ghost, Danny thought Clockwork was really shit at hiding his expressions. Though he tried to keep the grin off his face, Danny could clearly see the twitching of his lips and gleam in his eyes that promised the old man was scheming. 

But to get his childhood back. Or, at least a semblance of one... it deserved consideration. Danny looked back out at the cityscape again. Sam and Tucker... they were down there graduating from high school without him. He'd been the one to encourage them to pull away from Team Phantom activities to zero in on their studies, but he didn't regret it. Sam wanted to major in environmental science and Tucker wanted to go to MIT and he just didn't fit into those plans. After Jazz left for Stanford, his parents often forgot he was still there. He'd managed to convince them to study ghosts properly instead of hunting them, and with a little help from the "friendly ghost King Phantom" they were given a place to start. They dove into their research with the same excitement and fervor they'd had all their lives. Which of course meant he went days, sometimes weeks, without seeing them emerge from the lab. It was easy enough to slip past them to the portal while they were distracted. 

The point was that he'd started to feel his anchor to this city, to this realm, start to dissipate as the people who kept him there started to break away from him. He still loved them, wanted to protect them, but they were safe and happy now. He felt fulfilled in his task of protecting them, but there was a buzzing beneath his skin to do more. 

Danny took a deep and controlled breath. He didn't need it in his ghost form, but it felt good to feel his lungs stretch to fullness. 

"When would I start?" He asked finally. The straight face Clockwork had been trying to keep, and he really was so bad at it, finally broke into a wide grin. 

"Right now. Everything is already in place and your duties in the Realms will be taken care of in your absence." 

Danny smiled softly at his guardian. Clockwork sure had a funny way of showing it, but he cared so deeply for the boy next to him that when Danny responded with a bad pun, he couldn't even be annoyed. 

"Well, no time like the present!" He winked.

Clockwork chuckled, and with a flash of light, he sent Danny on his way. 

The more time the older ghost spent with his young ward, the more he appreciated him. The Danny he’d come to know was nothing like the Danny’s from other worlds he’d encountered while trying to prevent Dan from existing. His Danny was now truly one of a kind. None of the others, not even the ones that eventually turned into Dan, had been Ancients. There would never be another Danny like him, and every universe was adjusting to include him should he ever decide to visit them. He had a place in any world, should he choose, but Clockwork knew he was needed most in the one he’d sent him to. It would be truly entertaining to watch the young Ancient settle into his role there, and Clockwork was actually finding himself looking forward to it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was dark and quiet a long while before Danny opened his eyes. And when he did open them it got really loud and really bright really fast. It belatedly occurred to him that he should have asked like a billion more questions before agreeing to be iseaki’d into a different dimension to join a family he knew literally nothing about. 

There was shouting before someone in what looked like a ninja cult uniform shoved a knife into his hand and pushed him in the path of a person in a different uniform. The man in front of him was dressed in blue and black and wearing a mask that covered his eyes, but Danny could see the surprised shape of his mouth before it morphed into something like anger. And then he was being lunged at.

He shrieked as he dodged out of the way. Not his most graceful save, but whatever. His voice was a bit shrill and his center of gravity felt way off. He must have actually been de-aged! He wondered how old he was now. He still felt light on his feet thanks to his ghost half which felt blessedly intact. But the other guy was fast and he ducked into a roll just in time to dodge whatever weapon he was holding. This guy meant business, but he had no idea why he was trying to kill him. 

‘Great, thanks Grandfather Clock for throwing me right back into the good ol’ days,’ he thought sarcastically. Nobody had attacked him for no good reason like that since Walker and Fright caught Skulker mid hunt for the very last time. 

What he now saw was a baton swung down from overhead and Danny knew he wouldn't dodge it in time, so he caught it with the flat of the blade that had been shoved into his hands.

“Wait! Why are we fighting?” Danny yelled, panicked as the guy pushed more force into it. The man's face twisted into something like confusion for a moment and he backed off just the tiniest bit before the scuffing of shoes to his right had him looking over just in time to see another guy in a mask, this time in red, rushing at him. He threw his hands up in surrender. 

“Wait!” He shrieked before he was absolutely bodied sideways into the ground. 

Why was he doing this? He was half ghost, he could have just gone intangible and disappeared. He didn't have to be body slammed into the ground. Wasn't he a child now? Did that guy in red actually just slam a whole child into the ground? 

“Red, hold on! This one's different!” 

“What do you mean?” The guy Red asked. He was still pinning Danny to the ground.

“Yeah, what do you mean?” Danny asked breathlessly, then whimpered, “Someone please tell me what's going on!” 

The one hovering over him must have seen something on his face that convinced him to not try and kill him anymore, because he grabbed him by the collar and started dragging him along. 

“We'll take him in for questioning. Don't let Robin see him.”

“Who's Robin?!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a long, arduous, and confusing journey from wherever they were to… well, wherever they were now. They'd blindfolded him for the transport so he still had no idea what was going on. He had learned that the guy with batons was Nightwing, and Red was actually Red Robin. The one they called Robin was a feral looking thing with swords, he was very small and stabby. Then there was Batman, and he totally threw off the whole bird theme but was easily the most intimidating. And that was all he knew so far. He'd been restrained at an interrogation table. 

Danny groaned and knocked his forehead onto the table. He really, really wished he'd asked Clockwork more questions. He'd at least been able to catch a glimpse of himself in the glass behind Batman. He looked like he was eleven or twelve again, which was not as young as he'd been expecting, but much more preferable than being a literal toddler. The group of people he’d been brought in by seemed to be heroes. They were all incredibly weary of him, but hadn’t gone out of their way to harm him since his capture. Though it was hard to call it a capture when there wasn’t a chase involved. 

“How old are you?” Batman asked suddenly. His voice was low and rough and somehow Danny could tell it didn't sound like that naturally. 

“Um, maybe eleven or twelve?” Danny replied carefully, picking up his head from the table and having the decency to look a little embarrassed. 

“And what's your name?” He looked like he was expecting something.

“My name is Danny, sir.” 

“Hmm…” 

It was quiet and awkward for a long moment.

“Why are you different from the other clones?” 

“Yeeeaaah, I'm not a clone.” Danny absolutely did not jump when the brute slammed the file folder shut in front of him. 

“We'll see what your DNA results have to say about that,” he said confidently before turning to leave, his cape dramatically flaring out behind him.

Sheesh, and he thought he’d had a flair for the dramatics.

‘Okay, time for some assessment,’ Danny thought to himself as he looked around the small closed room. It was soundproofed incredibly well. While he didn’t have super crazy hearing, it was enhanced by his ghost half, and combined with his other sharp senses, it tended to help him gather more information than others could. The most he could hear outside the room was a quiet hum of activity and nothing discernible. Still, he needed to decide how much he would say to these people. How much truth did he want to weave into his tale? These people clearly already had their own assumptions about him in mind, and while there was absolutely nothing wrong with being a clone, he knew he didn’t have what it took to keep up an act like that for long, which would just end up being awkward for everyone. 

He also would not be telling them about his status as Ghost King, per Clockwork’s suggestion. His captors seemed like the uptight sort, and revealing that he was a big, scary ghost monarch didn’t seem like it’d go over well. Telling them he was a halfa would probably get them off his back over the clone thing, at least. He went over the list in his head.

He was a halfa from another dimension, so he couldn’t be a clone.

He had no plans of fighting with anyone unless absolutely necessary. 

He did not have a way back to his other dimension. 

His name was Danny, and he didn’t have a family anymore.

He did not know why he was in the middle of whatever fight he woke up in. 

No, he didn’t know those people.

Danny must’ve been lost in thought for quite a while because his thoughts were interrupted by Batman bursting back through the door. The man’s demeanor had changed completely and he whipped off his cowl to reveal disheveled dark hair, blue eyes, and an expression of absolute heartbreak that accompanied his shuddering breaths. With the mask off, he reminded Danny a lot of his father. 

Batman searched his face and, much like Red Robin had before, seemed to notice something there. 

“She did it twice,” he muttered to himself. “Two of them this whole time and she didn’t tell me about either of them,” he said through gritted teeth. His frown deepened. Danny copied his frown. 

“Hey, are you okay?”

He still had no idea what was going on.

[lovesickghostboy]

...I love musical Theatre

I myself am in University studying to become an actor (hence why I moved to LA). When I first moved to America I was encouraged to join the drama department and fell in love. I've been in many musicals and adore singing just not really talking as myself (if that makes sense).

I would love to know your favourite musical and any characters you like :>

Yours,

🚙

I love musical theater too!! I def was in theater when I was in school. I got to see Wicked twice! I cried both times and I will ABSOLUTELY cry at the movie when I get to see it.

I didn’t join any musicals though because I have massive stage fright so I was just part of the crew. However I do enjoy singing a lot. I do it all the time lol.

I’d have to say my top five musicals are Repo! The Genetic Opera, Beetlejuice, Sweeney Todd, Heathers, and Wicked! I’d kill for Sweeney Todd fr. He could kill me and with my dying breath I’d thank him.

From Repo id have to say The Repoman and Amber Sweet are my favorites.

Beetlejuice: obviously Beej himself

ST: Sweeney Todd 100%

Heathers: Jason Dean

Wicked: Elphaba

[psychovigilantewrites]

Stay Away

Pairing: Reader/Jason Todd

Genre: Smut

TW: AGE GAP!! PSEUDO-INCEST! PLEASE READ SUMMARY, IVE RECEIVED LOTS OF CRITICISMS FOR THIS FIC SOOOO 

Summary: THIS IS A REPOST SINCE TUMBLR TOOK IT DOWN DUE TO POSSIBLE REPORTS LOLOL 

This fic is about a young Robin!Reader with a much older Jason. Mentions of past sexual abuse. This started out as a drabble lol, I got carried away. Anyway, Hope you enjoy! I love reading comments, so don't be shy!

Edit: Due to this fic being my only controversial one, I’d like to update the warnings by giving a brief description of what happens. Reader is adopted by Bruce at 14, she has a small innocent crush on Jason that isn’t explored until she is older (Jason has ZERO feelings for her at this stage because SHE IS JUST A KID HERE). At 16, she becomes more aggressive in flirting with Jason. At 17 (Gotham’s legal age of consent- I based this on New York’s age of consent), she has oral sex with Jason. At 18, they have sex (Jason is 27).

I wrote this a while back, and now that I’ve learned a few things along the way, I realise that a sexual relationship between a 27 year old and an 18 year old is still highly problematic- even though legal. I do not condone these actions in real life, and I doubt Jason would as well. This is purely fictional, an outlet for my fantasies when I was younger. I still do not believe in creative censorship and I want people to enjoy this fic even if it has no place in the real world. We are all allowed to escape into fiction and our own fantasy and enjoy them privately without guilt. 

“And this is Jason,” Bruce introduced you to him.

Another one?, Jason thought, though he felt slightly guilty for thinking it. He had many problems with Bruce, but deep down he knew that Bruce adopted all of them out of kindness and good intentions.

“Hey,” he grunted, holding out his hand.

You just looked at him with big, frightful eyes, still sticking close to Bruce’s side. You looked young. You couldn’t have been older than fourteen. Your hair was cropped messily short, and it made you look almost like a young boy.

Jason raised an eyebrow and dropped his hand when you didn’t take it.

“Who’s he?” you whispered to Bruce with a soft voice that the average person wouldn’t have been able to hear.

“He, well,” Bruce hesitated, “He’s Red Hood.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up.

“I decided to tell her everything,” Bruce explained to Jason, “So she can make an informed choice since young.”

“When you’re that young,” Jason glanced at you then back to Bruce, “Anything would sound cool. Even something dangerous that will rob you of your childhood. It’s not an informed choice, you’re basically dangling a cookie in front of her.”

“I’m not young,” you squeaked, “You’re just old.”

Jason scoffed at that.

Though you had voiced out your comeback, you were still shaking in nervousness, refusing to meet his eye.

Jason couldn’t blame you for that. He knew how his eyes looked.

“All of you were younger than her when you chose this life,” Bruce said softly.

“Did we really choose, Bruce?” he argued back.

“I’m not encouraging her,” he defended, “In fact, I’m doing the exact opposite. This time, I’m telling her the truth and nothing but the truth. The good, and the ugly.”

Jason saw how you didn’t like the way the conversation was going, talking about you as if you weren’t there. You had a deep frown on your face that made you look older than you were, but also, paradoxically, a cute pout that brought out the child in you.

“Whatever,” he finally shrugged, “Your kid. As if any of us had a say in anything anyway. If this was the only reason why you asked me to come here, I’ll be leaving.”

He turned to leave the manor, to go back to his safe house.

“Good riddance, old man!” you called out after him in a shaky voice.

Jason looked back and raised an eyebrow. You immediately blushed and avoided his eyes. In the back of his head, he thought about how he could recognize your accent anywhere.

***

The next time Jason visited the manor, which was about two months after the initial introduction, he found Bruce training you basic self-defense in the Cave.

Your hair had grown slightly, and you probably fixed the cut to suit your features better.

“What happened to being discouraging?” he said out loud.

You jumped at his voice, but Bruce looked at Jason knowingly.

“It’s just self-defense,” Bruce explained, “Useful regardless of Robin or not. She’s a fast learner.”

Jason saw how your face lit up at his praise.

Great, he thought. You weren’t even Robin yet and you already got that Robin complex every one of them seemed to have had.

The constant need for praise and emotional connection from Bruce, as well as a sense of delusional idolization of the man who adopted all of you.

“Where’s Grayson?” he huffed.

“Right here, Jay,” Dick’s warm and bright voice came from behind. Jason resisted the urge to jump just like you did.

Dick was already in his Nightwing costume, and walked towards you.

“Hey little sis!” he greeted, arms open. You flung yourself at him for a hug.

Jason rolled his eyes.

“Don’t the two of you live here?” he scoffed.

“Just because you’re emotionally constipated doesn’t mean the rest of us are,” you shot at him.

Jason smirked. You were feisty, yet still wary of him.

He found that adorable.

“She’s right,” Dick chuckled, “You wanted to see me, Jay?”

“Later,” he mumbled, and changed into his alter ego.

Once Jason and Dick were alone on patrol, he brought it up.

“Don’t you disagree with this?”

“With what?”

“Her,” he said, “Or more specifically, him bringing her into all of this.”

“I did at first,” Dick frowned, “But you’ve only met her once, Jay. You don’t live with her. She’s been through a lot, and her being Robin, well, I think it’d be good for her.”

Jason felt his chest tightening. Bruce had always used the excuse that he made all of them into Robin to help channel their emotions into doing good, to prevent them from falling into darkness.

Yet, Jason still did. And he fell right into an abyssal void that he was still trying to get out of.

“Maybe,” Dick continued, “You should get to know her. You’ll see what I’m talking about, and what Bruce sees in her. Tim disagreed at first as well, but after a while, even he warmed up to the idea.”

He frowned at Dick, and then looked away, sighing.

“Whatever.”

***

A month later, Jason had agreed to meet Dick and Tim at a diner.

The food wasn’t that good, and the service average, but it held many memories for him. Dick used to take him there after patrol when he was still Robin. When he went rogue, Dick had brought Tim there. Post-rogue, all three of them would meet up.

He was early, because he was closer. He waited about ten minutes before he saw Tim walking through the door, with Dick behind him. Following Dick, he saw you.

He frowned.

He supposed that he had to get used to you being around, since you were already in the picture.

He didn’t know why he felt like distancing himself from you. With Tim, he had a good reason. A personal reason that he had moved on from.

But you? He had no reason to push you away. Though, Jason had the tendency to push everyone away.

Dick took a seat next to Jason at the booth, and across from him were Tim and you. You were dressed simply in an oversized hoodie he recognized belonged to Dick. It made you seem smaller and younger than you really were. Your hair was in a short bob now. So you were growing it out after all.

Fine. He decided to give you a chance. He had been unfair to you, after all.

“Isn’t a bit too late for you to be out, kid?” he poked at you, “Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“Fuck you, you colossal freak of nature,” you cussed at him.

Jason was taken aback.

And then he started laughing out loud.

You weren’t so bad after all. The shyness and wariness that you displayed the earlier times almost all gone, and then there was that familiar accent that he somehow felt at ease listening to.

Dick let out a loud groan.

“You owe me twenty,” Tim suddenly said to Dick.

“Come on,” Dick addressed you, “I had faith in you! What happened?”

“It’s just in my nature, okay?” you pouted, “I can’t help it.”

Dick fished out a twenty and threw it at Tim.

“What is happening?” Jason asked, confused.

“I bet ten that the first thing she says to you would be an insult, twenty if she threw in the word ‘fuck’,” Tim grinned.

“And I,” Dick enunciated dramatically, “Thought that she would at least hold it in until after we finished eating.”

“What, you a potty mouth or something?” Jason smirked at you.

“Unless Alfred or Bruce is around,” you grinned.

It was the first time you smiled at him.

“Coward,” he shook his head, “I used to say all sorts of shit even in front of Bruce and Alfred. You gotta step up your game, kid.”

“And Alfred got you bankrupt, didn’t he?” Dick reminded, “You had to put so much of your allowance in the swear jar.”

“I believe in freedom of expression, alright?” Jason huffed, “I had to stand by my principles.”

“Principles?” Tim scoffed, “You?”

“Yes, me, Timbers,” Jason reiterated, “I’m a man of my word. If I’m gonna swear, I’m gonna go all the way.”

“You’re an old man of your word,” Jason heard you mumble.

“I’m only twenty-three, sweetheart,” he responded, “Dick’s the old man here.”

“Am not!” Dick protested.

“Yeah, Dick’s not,” you agreed.

“How does that make any sense?” Jason challenged.

“Because Dick doesn’t treat me like I’m a kid,” you shrugged, “He brings me up to his level, so I don’t see him as an old man. You on the other hand…”

“But you are a kid!” Jason argued back, “What are you, twelve?”

“You know for a fact that I’m fourteen!” you growled.

Jason grinned at you, and expected you to continue defending yourself. But for some reason, you just remained silent, and he saw a blush of red settling on your cheeks.

“Whatever you say, kid.”

***

The time that passed between that night and the next time he came back was shorter. He watched you train with Dick, and saw that you had already improved a lot.

He went back, and came back again, three weeks later. Your moves were faster, cleaner, more efficient.

He went back, and came back again, a week later. You landed a blow on Tim.

Soon, he realised that he was looking forward to his visits, because he wanted to see how much you progressed during the short time he was gone- and you never disappointed.

“She must be training nonstop,” he casually said to Tim one night on patrol. Bruce still didn’t allow you out with them yet, because you were still too new.

“Dude, she wakes up at four every morning to train for two hours before going to school,” Tim told him, “After she gets back, she does her homework and studies for a bit, and then trains again for another three hours before going to bed. She’s borderline crazy.”

Jason frowned to himself.

He knew that pattern. Training relentlessly to lose himself in the physical exertion, to feel like he had some sort of power every time he landed a punch, to regain some sort of control.

You were either running away from something, or towards something.

“I never asked,” he started, “But how did he end up adopting her?”

“Uh,” Tim rubbed the back of his head in hesitation, “I don’t know if I should be the one to tell you. You should ask her yourself.”

“Oh, come on,” he groaned, “You mean to tell me that you asked her yourself? Dick or Bruce didn’t tell you?”

“Of course!” Tim grumbled, “We’re friends, Jason. We hang out. We talk. You’re the only one missing from the circle.”

“Fucking whatever.”

***

He really wanted to ask, he really did.

If not out of care, then out of curiosity.

But honestly, a heart to heart talk with another human being? That wasn’t him.

Yet, he really wanted to know.

He had tried to sit down next to you when you were just watching TV alone in the living room, he had tried to knock on your door while you were blasting shitty music out loud. He had even tried to call you up and see if you wanted to meet him for dinner somewhere.

But he never got to it.

In the end, a year had passed since he first met you, and it was your big night. It was your first debut as Robin.

“Stick to at least one of us,” Jason overheard Bruce instruct you in the Cave, “Don’t go off on your own, don’t act first, and always listen to orders.”

“Yes, sir,” you rolled your eyes, then put on your domino mask.

Jason smirked at your attitude. You had come out of your shell and he learned that you were really a feisty, sassy, annoying little brat.

He thought the Robin uniform suited you. It was more modern than his was- the colors more muted- and he saw that you probably had demanded Bruce to include designs of your own. Like how your black cape sort of shimmered in the light, and how there was fucking lace at the lateral sides of your legs.

Your hair was long now.

All of you split up during patrol, and Jason had found himself panting on a roof after taking down a dozen guys who thought it was a good idea to seek revenge for the time he pissed on them from the edge of a building while they were doing a drug exchange.

It had been pretty funny, the way they were so furiously humiliated.

Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a movement. He turned to look at the building from across the street, and saw that you were sitting there on the edge, legs dangling, overlooking the alley below.

He grappled to where you were and silently approached you from behind.

“I thought he told you to stick to someone,” he said.

“Jesus, fuck,” you jumped, “Stop doing that, you asshole.”

“Think of it as training for your ears,” he chuckled, and sat down next to you.

“I was with Bruce, then Dick, then Tim, then I ran away from Tim to find you,” you explained, “Looks like you found me first, though.”

“Why did you want to find me?”

“Dunno,” you shrugged, “It’s my first night. Just wanted to see everyone in action.”

“Well, you missed one big fight,” he said, “Took out a dozen guys in under five minutes.”

“Not bad,” you smirked, “Wish I could have seen it.”

“You will eventually,” he hummed, “It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes, because you obviously have done worse,” you poked.

“Is that why you were so afraid of me in the beginning?” Jason wondered, “Because you knew I killed people?”

“I was never afraid of you,” you frowned, “What gave you that idea?”

“You couldn’t stop shaking the first time I met you,” he reminded.

“Fine,” you conceded, “You looked pretty big and scary. And when Bruce said that you were Red Hood, that shook me up a bit. But it wasn’t because you killed people.”

“That’s a first,” he scoffed.

“But now I know that you’re just a massive prick who pretends to be badass to cover up the fact that you’re just a sad, fragile being- well, it’s hard to be scared.”

“Oh, we’re throwing shade now are we?” he snickered, “What about you and your obsession with training just to compensate for the fact that you feel small and weak inside with no control over your life?”

He had expected you to retort, but you just frowned and looked down towards the alley.

Shit.

Jason always had that problem where he didn’t know when to shut up, or what not say to people. Granted, most of the time he didn’t care if the other party got offended or not.

But he didn’t want to hurt you.

He was just going to open his mouth to apologize until-

“I’ve been here before,” you started, “This alley. A long time ago. My big brother- he dragged me here away from my dad so he could beat me up.”

Jason remained silent in shock.

“Not that my dad was any better,” you added, “I guess my brother was like that to me because my dad was like that to him.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that. Was he supposed to comfort you? Or tell you something funny to distract you from the sadness?

Instead, he asked, “What about your mom?”

Jason’s mom had been there, yet not fully there. But when she was, he was grateful at least, to know the warmth of a hug in a run down apartment with no heater during the winter.

“Died giving birth to me,” you explained, “Dad always blamed me for it. He’d tell me that he wished I was never born- that he wished he wore a condom when he fucked mom, that at least if she was alive, he didn’t need to fuck whores.”

“And fuck whores, he did,” you continued bitterly, “But they weren’t enough, I guess. He- he even- I-”

You never finished your sentence, but you didn’t need to. Jason was smart enough to put two and two together.

He felt his blood boil, his rage seeping in. It was like he was that Red Hood again. And for the first time since he came back to Bruce, he didn’t try to push that memory away.

He could go rogue again. Just one more time.

“Where is he- they- where are they now?” Jason managed to grit, tasting blood in his mouth.

“Dead,” you snorted, “Thanks to you.”

“What?”

That took him out of his burning anger.

“Turns out dad was working with Black Mask,” you elaborated, “He dragged my brother with him as well. It’s how he managed to afford all those prostitutes and heroin, I guess. I think they were at one of those shipments you crashed or something back then. You left twenty dead.”

Fuck, he remembered.

Black Mask was at the docks, waiting for a shipment of weapons, drugs, and girls. He remembered feeling frustrated that Black Mask slipped away before he got to him, so he took out his anger on everyone else working with Black Mask.

“Lived in the streets after that,” you continued, “Fend for myself. Cut my hair short so people would think I was a boy. I had to stay tough, you know? When Bruce found me, I was doing an odd job for one of the local gangs. Small one. Was supposed to recruit people my age. Start them young, he said. I guess Bruce had been following me for a bit. He approached me and that scared the shit out of me.”

You paused to smile sadly at the memory.

“But he just asked me for my name, and age,” you stared into space, “And he told me that I could do better than that. That I had potential. He asked me if I wanted to help people rather than drag them into dangerous stuff. And how could I say no? Especially after wishing for so long that someone would come and help me when I was with my dad and brother living in a run down apartment with a leaking roof near Crime Alley.”

You finally looked at him.

Jason was glad that he was wearing a helmet, because he wanted to hide from the stabbing guilt he felt. He didn’t want you to see him that way.

“So you’re right,” your blank white lenses pierced his own, “I train because I want to feel strong, because I’ve felt weak my whole life. I train to feel as if I have control over my own body, my own movements. Hell, even the fact that I grew my hair long gave me a sense of control.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason finally managed to croak, “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” you dismissed, “Plus, you did me a favour before. I kind of owe you one.”

“Favour?”

“You got rid of my dad for me,” you stood up, “Thanks.”

And for the first time, looking up at you as you were looking down, smiling at him, he didn’t see you as a kid.

“Sure thing, kid.”

***

Jason started dropping by once every two weeks. Sometimes he would even come around twice in a week.

He had warmed up to you after you told him your story, though he was kind of frustrated that Dick, Tim, and Bruce were all right, and he was the wrong one all along because he didn’t know you.

But then, you also started warming up to him.

And that became the major issue.

Since you donned the Robin uniform, your ego had spiked up. Your confidence and arrogance came with every progress you made. A year into Robin, Jason couldn’t see a semblance of that frightened little girl with the short hair, voice shaking as she tried to insult him.

No, now you were just so fucking annoying.

And for some reason, you started to be more aware of your sexuality as your confidence grew.

At the age of 16, you had started coming onto Jason strong.

“Jason,” you pouted at him, “Why don’t you come stay at the Manor anymore?”

“Because you’re there, kid,” he joked, staring at Gotham’s skyline from the rooftop where you, him, and Batman would occasionally stop to catch a breath.

“Jasooon,” you whined, high pitched and long, “I miss spending time with you.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, because you were touching his arm, squeezing his biceps. Not that you could see his face, given the helmet he wore. He kind of missed how you were back then. All you had were insults and swear words for him, and you definitely didn’t whine.

“Don’t you have Tim to annoy?”

“He’s always busy,” you huffed, “And when he’s not busy, he’s sleepy. Tim’s boring. You’re more fun, in an assholey cocknose dickweed kind of way.”

Ah, there it was, your colorful language. He had to admit, your creativity impressed him.

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” he chuckled.

“So why don’t you come over some time and we can have some fun?” you purred seductively.

Jason was taken aback.

He wasn’t sure whether you meant it innocently, or whether you had hidden motives. He glanced at Bruce who was minding his own business, ignoring the two of you.

He didn’t think you would flirt with him in front of Bruce, so he dismissed it and blamed himself for thinking lewd things.

“My idea of fun involves a bottle of whiskey and B-Grade horror movies, kid,” he patted you on the head, “And you’re too young to drink.”

“Hmph,” you slapped his hand away, “That’s not what I was talking about, but whatever.”

You strutted away.

It wasn’t that he didn’t find you attractive, it was that he shouldn’t find you attractive. What was a 16 year old doing flirting with someone his age? Weren’t you supposed to have crushes on the quarterbacks in your school?

Hell, even if you wanted someone who knew of your nighttime activities, there always were the Teen Titans, whom you regularly joined. That Aqualad wasn't a bad kid, but for some reason he didn't like the thought of you dating just yet.

But still, you had no business with someone like Jason. Age wise, or personality wise.

*** Two weeks later, he dropped by again for movie night.

When he walked into the living room, the only person who quirked up when they saw him was you, probably because the rest had already heard him coming.

“Jay!” you squealed, and ran to him, flinging your arms around his neck in a hug.

“Hey- oomph,” he slightly stumbled. It was the first time you hugged him.

And now that you were so close, he was hyper aware of you. You were wearing shorts and a tank top- with no bra. He could smell your vanilla lotion and your chocolate spice shampoo.

He could feel your strong arms, your heavy weight, your burning heat against him.

And for the first time, he actually got turned on by you.

Fuck, he thought. He shouldn’t be thinking of you like that. As if the age difference wasn’t vast already, you were still underaged.

He awkwardly patted you on the back, in an attempt to respond to the hug. He could make out Tim and Dick snickering at him at his obvious discomfort.

“You’ve gained weight,” he gruffed, trying to break the hug because he was dangerously close to popping a boner.

As expected, you let go of him.

“Yeah, I did!” you grinned happily, “I’ve gained about five pounds of muscle mass!”

You started flexing your toned biceps comically.

“Maybe you can gain five pounds of brain mass next time, kid,” he smirked and ruffled your hair.

“I’m pretty sure that’s a medical condition, you twatwaffle arsebadger,” you shot back at him.

“Jar,” a chorus of lazy mumbles from everyone else rose.

You grumbled and walked towards a coffee table, where a clear mason jar almost filled to the brim with folded notes sat. You shoved in five dollars.

Jason took off his jacket and sat next to Dick on the long sofa. You then hopped towards him and started snuggling next to him.

Jason looked at Dick in question.

Dick merely shrugged.

Jason had a hard time concentrating on the movie that night, because you leaning your head on his chest, and playing with the denim of his jeans absentmindedly.

He wasn’t used to it.

Human contact.

And he knew how you were. You were probably the same with Dick and Tim. You just chose him that night to snuggle up to.

But then you made a comment about how hot the guy in the movie was. Jason didn’t think much of it until you leaned up to press your mouth on his ear and whispered, “Not as hot as you, though.”

That made him jump out of his seat in panic.

Everyone else looked at him suspiciously, but you were just looking at him with a knowing smirk.

“Toilet,” he mumbled, and left.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” he paced in small circles in a washroom down the hall.

He looked at his reflection only to see how red he was at his ears. He gripped the edges of the sink and took deep breaths, trying to play it cool.

Now, it was obvious that you were flirting with him. There was no denying it.

But why on God’s planet were you?

Jason groaned quietly to himself.

Whatever. He thought that you’d probably just drop it eventually.

***

Half a year later, and it didn’t.

And it got bad. Real bad.

Jason still kept visiting regularly, and every single time he did, he would get almost sexually harassed by you.

He was just sitting down in an armchair in the living room, reading a book, when you came along, and with the most arrogant, most entitled smirk, sat on his lap.

“Get off,” he grit, eyes never leaving his book. He was scared of what you were wearing this time.

“But you’re so warm,” you hummed, swinging up your legs across his lap, so that you were being cradled by him and the armchair.

“The fire’s right there,” he pointed to the fireplace, “If you need help, I can throw you in it.”

“I’d rather you throw me in bed,” you purred.

He snapped his book shut and squeezed the bridge of his nose.

“Just. Get. Off,” he growled.

It was dangerous. Your smell was intoxicating, and you were shifting and shuffling against his front. His mind started to wander, and he hadn’t even looked at you yet.

“But Jasooon,” you whined, “You’re nice and soft.”

He glared at you.

And regretted it.

You were wearing an almost see-through white loose t-shirt that exposed your shoulders. The thin fabric clung onto the curves of your breasts which were- thankfully- covered by a pink bra. You had a pair of satin booty shorts on which hardly covered your ass, which was sitting on top of his crotch.

“Actually, no let me take that back,” you pretended to wonder, “You’re pretty hard.”

And you gave him a wicked grin.

His eyes widen in panic and he stood up suddenly, causing you to fall flat on the floor.

“Fuck!” you cursed, “What's the big deal, jizzcock?”

He left the room and rushed to the toilet. He looked down, and found his penis was normal, flaccid, non-erect, unfilled.

That bitch fucking tricked me, he thought.

And he fell for it.

He went to look for Bruce who was in the cave, in front of the computers.

He took a wheeled chair and sat behind him.

“Bruce,” he started, “I need to talk to you.”

“What is it?” Bruce asked without sparing a glance at him.

That ticked him off a bit.

“It’s about your daughter.”

Jason saw Bruce pause, and then turned around to finally face him. “What about her?”

“She’s been flirting with me,” he grumbled.

Bruce raised an amused eyebrow.

“She’s sixteen, and she’s flirting with a twenty-five year old man!” he complained, “If she’s doing this to me, God knows who else she’s been doing this to!”

“And?” Bruce questioned.

“And? And?” Jason repeated, “And aren’t you worried?”

“She can take care of herself,” Bruce stated, “She’s mature. She won’t let herself be taken advantage of.

“Look, Bruce,” Jason squeezed his temples, “It’s great that you trust her and all that, but don’t you think it’s kind of fucked up? Christ, she’s sixteen!”

“And she’s well aware of that,” he said, “What would you have me do? Do you want me to talk to her?”

“Forget it,” he gave in, and left for his safehouse without saying goodbye to you.

Because that night he laid on his bed in the dark, guiltily thinking about your ass on his dick earlier. But thankfully unlike earlier, he had allowed his cock to fill up.

He knew he shouldn’t, but he thought of that time when you and him went jogging around the manor. You wore just a sports bra that showed off your cleavage, and sports shorts that rode up your ass. He couldn’t resist looking at the way your tits bounce with every step, and when you ran in front of him, his eyes darted down to check out your ass before he realised what he was doing and excused himself.

Excuse himself because he needed to stop looking, to stop thinking.

But now, he let his thoughts free.

He thought about how that one drop of sweat trickled down between the valleys of your breasts, how your muscular back glistened in the sun, how flushed your cheeks were.

He glanced down at his cock, which was already hard and leaking precum onto his stomach, twitching in need of attention.

“Don’t touch it, don’t touch it,” he muttered.

He couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, but he could try to resist from touching himself.

He owed you that at the very least.

He gulped loudly.

It really wasn’t fair. You didn’t look sixteen, or act sixteen. You were far mature even at a younger age.

But you were still sixteen.

And it wasn’t fair how you could tease him and get away with it.

“Fuck,” he groaned in frustration.

The way you swore sort of turned him on as well, oddly. He loved your use of language, and how dirty your mouth was.

How even dirtier your mouth would be if he shoved his cock in-

“No,” he whined, and he touched his cock.

He stroked it once, twice, three times, and then he came hard, long ribbons splashing onto his chest.

“I am a jizzcock,” he whispered to himself in shame, and then cleaned himself up.

***

Three months later, Jason had just come back from a mission in Mexico. Throughout his trip, he’d been bombarded with texts from you.

The topics spanned from the usual banter about training, Dick, and how you’ve been annoying Alfred with “ok, boomer” memes, to you sending him mirror selfies of yourself in fitting rooms trying out clothes that made Jason almost drool and you attempting to flirt with him.

Jason responded normally to the former, but sent short uninterested texts to the latter.

But when he came back to his safe house, he found his spare handgun on his bed- which was not where he last put it. On it, was a sticky note with a written message:

Try not to lick. R.

“What the fuck?” he muttered. R must have stood for Robin, and then suddenly Jason gulped, wondering what the fuck you had done to his gun.

He opened his phone to check his conversation with you, only to find that you had sent him a ten-minute length video.

His thumbs were shaking when he clicked play.

The video started with a closeup of your face in an awkward position, setting what Jason presumed to be your phone, on a surface with an angle you had in mind. Jason looked behind him and saw that his chair had been placed right in front of his bed, where you must have put the phone on.

“Fuck,” Jason realised. He did not like where this was going.

Or did he?

In the video, you then strolled to his bed, fingers touching his sheets. You were wearing nothing but a white flowy sundress that Jason thought made your skin look absolutely radiant. But instead of sitting on his bed, you had gone out of the frame, and then came back with the gun.

He swallowed hard.

You sat on the edge of the bed with a naughty glint in your eye. And then, you started to caress yourself sensually, squeezing your breasts as you made your way down to between your legs.

Jason realised he had started sweating and panting, getting aroused as his cock slowly started to fill out.

You spread your legs and dipped your hand beneath your dress, but Jason still couldn’t see anything because you had taken the fabric and hid what was going on under. He saw your mouth fall open and you let out a long, loud moan.

“Jason.”

Jason’s breath stuttered. His cock was aching in his jeans, begging to be touched.

Your hands were working underneath the fabric, teasing Jason with only an idea of what you were doing.

“I’m so wet, Jay,” you purred at the camera.

And then, your other hand went to take the gun.

You brought it up to your lips and flattened your tongue against the gun and licked all the way to the muzzle. Even in the low quality, he could see your saliva wetting his gun. Then, you gave him a wink and brought the gun to where your other hand was, between your legs.

Jason stopped the video then and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing hard through his nose at an attempt to calm himself down. Once he did have a semblance of control, which took almost five minutes of just trying to steady his breathing, he opened his eyes and dialled your number.

“Hey, Jay,” you picked up.

“What the fuck?!” he roared, “How the fuck did you get into my safehouse? Hell, how did you even know where it was?!”

“Oh, Jason, please,” he could hear you roll yours eyes, “You’re overreacting.”

“Over-?” he growled, “Overreacting?! You came into my house and then started to- started to-”

“Fuck myself with your gun?” you giggled.

His dick twitched.

“You need to stop this, kid,” he tried to bring his rage in, “Stop it, before you regret it.”

“Or what?” you teased, “What would you do to me, Jason? Spank me?”

He couldn’t. Jason just couldn’t with you. So he ended the call and threw his phone across the room.

He sat down at the edge of the bed and buried his face in his palms. His cock was still aching, and he was dying to touch it.

He glanced at the gun next to him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and then unbuttoned his jeans, letting out a hiss of relief when he could finally take it out.

He started to furiously stroke his cock, just staring at the gun laying there. He wanted to smell it. He wanted to lick it. He wanted to see if he could still taste you on the metal.

“God fucking dammit,” he cursed, and then he came in pulses.

*** “What’s up, fucktrumpet?” you poked.

Jason let out a long and heavy breath from his nose, the sound becoming static as it went through the voice scrambler of his helmet.

It was a week later, and Jason had joined patrol with you, Bruce and Tim.

“Fuck off, kid,” he walked away from you, pretending to be looking out for something from the ledge of the roof.

“Oh, come on,” you whined, coming closer to him anyway. “You enjoyed it.”

“Tim,” Jason turned away to approach the younger man, “How’s things?”

“Don’t ignore me!” you ran after him.

“Leave me out of whatever this is,” Tim sighed. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Pfft, you’re always in the mood for me, Timbers,” Jason nudged his side with his elbow.

“No, she’s always in the mood for you,” he pointed to you, “For some reason.”

“Well, I’m not in the mood for her,” he grit.

“Meanie,” you pouted, “All I’ve ever been is nice to you, Jay. And what do you do? Act like an absolute thundercunt.”

He wanted to laugh at that, but he couldn’t. He had to keep up his appearances.

“Listen here, you brat,” Jason finally turned to you and poked your shoulder hard with his finger, making you wince. “You stay the fuck away from me.”

“Hey, Jay,” Tim suddenly interrupted, “You don’t need to do that, man.”

“This little bitch broke into my house and started defiling my things, Tim,” he growled, “Yes, I need to do that.”

“Defiling your things?” Tim repeated.

You let out a soft giggle.

“Forget it,” Jason threw his hands up in the air. “I’ll patrol alone.”

Jason saw the slight disappointment in your eyes when he left which made him feel a little guilty, but he ignored it.

Whatever, you were basically just asking for it.

***

Another half a year went by, and Jason found himself at the Manor for Dick’s barbecue and pool party. He was already dreading it, because he knew you would be up to no fucking good, especially when you had the excuse to wear a bikini in front of him.

He had contemplated about not going, but Roy was going to be there, and Roy was making him go.

The first person Jason looked out for was you, because he had to be on his guard. He was standing at the glass sliding door of the manor that opened to the pool to survey the crowd. He spotted you in the pool, laughing at who he assumed was Aqualad- Jason didn't bother to learn his name- wearing a dark red bikini top that fixated behind your neck.

“Jaybird! You made it!” Roy’s voice boomed all the way from the other side of the pool and came running to where Jason was standing awkwardly.

He knew many of Dick's friends, but he was never particularly close to any of them besides Roy and Kori. Now that Kori was gone, Roy was all he had left.

“Don't call me that,” he grumbled back.

“Aw, come on,” Roy groaned, “You came to a pool party in a t-shirt and jeans? Seriously?”

“I wasn't planning on swimming,” he shrugged.

Roy was sporting a horrible bright yellow swimming shorts with green palm leaves.

“Well, I was, so I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

“Yeah,” Jason nodded and decided to head to the pool chairs and put on his sunglasses. He even brought a book to bury his nose into to avoid social interaction.

He heard a splash of water and from the corner of his eye, saw you coming towards him.

“Don’t even,” he snapped at you before you could get a word out.

“I wasn't even going to do anything, fucking dipshit,” you shot back.

Jason forced his eyes back to his book to avoid getting caught looking at how the water trickled down your glistening skin that looked oh so soft-

“What do you want then?” he huffed, turning a page.

“Well,” you began, taking a seat on the pool chair where Jason's feet were, “I was going to ask you about Roy.”

Jason glared at you, peeking from the top of his book.

“What about Roy?”

“You guys are close, right?” you hummed.

“I guess so.”

“Like, best friends?”

“What are we, twelve?” he scoffed, “Why are you asking me so many questions?”

“Well, since you're close to Roy,” you started, “I was wondering if you knew his type.”

“His type?”

“Yeah, like what kind of girls does he like?” you grinned.

“Ones who aren't underaged,” Jason growled.

“Jason I'm already seventeen,” you reminded, “Which is the legal age of consent in Gotham.”

“It doesn't matter,” he grumbled, “He's older than me, which makes him way too old for you. Forget it.”

You pouted, and then stood up. He had to redirect his gaze back to his book.

“It’s like you don't even know me, Jaybird,” you snickered, and with a flip of your wet hair which splashed droplets of water onto him, you strutted away.

He was gritting his jaw so hard he could feel his teeth ache.

Fuck, why can't you just stop?

“I need a fucking drink,” he muttered to himself and left for the kitchen where he rummaged through the refrigerator to find a stout.

He popped open the bottle cap on the marble edge of the kitchen island.

“Alfred would kill you if he saw you do that,” a voice laughed.

Jason rolled his eyes at Dick, who was sipping on a can of beer behind him. “I’ve gotten in trouble for worse.”

“God, I forget how similar you guys are,” he leaned against the counter.

“Who?”

“You know who. Her,” he pointed out.

“We’re not the same,” he denied, heading back outside.

“No, she deals with her issues better than you did,” Dick followed him, “As a matter of fact, you're still dealing.”

“Get to the point, Grayson,” he snapped.

“The point is, she’s not a kid, Jason,” Dick told him, “Why don't you give her a chance?”

Jason stopped in his tracks, standing still before exiting through the glass door. It was quieter inside the manor.

“A chance for what?” he grit.

“To prove herself to you,” Dick explained, “I've noticed how you treat her, Jay. Tim as well. It's like you're trying to push her away. Why? You don't think she's good enough?”

“Holy shit,” Jason started laughing humourlessly, “You think this is about me simply not liking her? You guys think I'm just being angsty?”

“Isn't it?” Dick cocked his head to the side.

“She's been fucking flirting with me, Grayson,” Jason said.

“Okay, I get that, but she sort of flirts with everyone,” he shrugged.

“She comes and sit on my lap, whispers stupid shit in my ear, sends me pictures of herself trying on revealing clothes, makes vulgar motions with her hands, fucking tries to seduce me,” he listed down, “Don't tell me she does that with everyone.”

“Okay, maybe not,” the older man frowned.

“Let me tell you, then,” Jason walked closer to Dick, “She broke into my fucking house, sat on my fucking bed, and started recording herself on her phone, and then sent the video to me.”

“Wait, what?” Dick sputtered, “Recording herself doing what?”

“You fucking know what,” he stated.

“Oh, Jesus,” Dick ran a finger through his hair, “Wow, she's ballsy.”

“That's your reaction?” Jason scoffed, “She's ballsy?”

“I mean-”

“She's sexually harassing me, Grayson!” he argued.

“But,” Dick began, “What did you really think about it? I mean, really?”

“What do you mean?” he hissed.

“Did you watch it?” Dick persisted. “The video?”

“What- I- no, I just-” Jason spluttered, caught off guard.

“You can't lie to me, Jason,” Dick gave him a mischievous smile, “You like her, too. That's why you're pushing her away. Because you don't think you're good enough for her.”

Fuck Dick and his fucking superior detective skills.

“She's too young for me,” Jason simply stated.

“Well, apparently not too young for Roy,” Dick smirked.

“What-” Jason turned around and looked outside.

You were in the pool, standing in the corner. You had a hand on Roy’s chest, looking up at him and laughing. He had a hand on your waist, and was whispering something into your ear.

Jason went into a fit of rage when he saw Roy touching you.

“Mother fucker,” Jason swore, and without thinking, went straight to where you were. He stood there at the edge of the pool, arms crossed, and looking down at the two of you who were both unaware of his presence.

“Roy,” Jason growled.

Roy jumped and looked at Jason in panic, and as if you electrocuted him, immediately jumped away from your touch.

“H-hey, Jaybird,” he awkwardly laughed, “I was just- I was- uh- I was telling her about what a great friend you were.”

“Oh, really?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah!” he nodded vigorously, “Jason here is super good with his aim as well. Could even rival mine.”

Jason ignored Roy, and glared at you, who was looking up at him with obviously fake innocent eyes.

“Out,” he commanded.

“What?”

“I said out,” he repeated. “Out of the pool. I need to talk to you.”

“Oh, come on, Jason,” you started to whine, but then stopped when you saw his expression.

You climbed out of the pool, and again, Jason had to avert his eyes. Without sparing a glance at you, he gripped you by the arm and pulled you to go inside.

“Ow! Jason, let go, fucking cocksucker!” you cried.

He snatched a towel from Tim’s grip as he walked, ignoring Tim’s protests and stares from others, and then threw it on top of your head.

“Ugh- Jason!” you complained. He continued to lead you inside the manor, up the stairs, and to his old room.

He slammed the door shut behind him.

“What's the big deal, you shitpouch?! Who do you fucking think you are? Fucking cumwipe, pisswizard, cuntpuddle...”

That wasn't the end of your swearing. You went on for another good minute of words that could make Batman blush, before stopping.

You were fuming. Your face red, your expression twisted into a scowl, water dripping all over the wooden floors, the fluffy towel around your neck that you hadn't used.

God, you were so hot when you were angry.

“You done?” he deadpanned. He sensed that you were going to go into another stream of name calling, so he cut you off.

“I told you to forget Roy,” he grit.

“And since when have I ever done what you told me to do?” you shot at him

You had a point.

“Look, kid-”

“I'm not a fucking kid, Jason!” you yelled at him for the first time, “I haven't been a kid since my dad- since I was twelve!”

Jason suddenly felt pain in his chest.

“I know you've been through shit,” Jason acknowledged, “What happened with your dad and your brother- I’m fucking glad I killed them. And even if I hadn’t back then, I would have broken every single rule and hunt them down and make them suffer before ending their lives after finding out what they did to you. Hell, before you told me that they were dead, I was already ready to turn every single rock to find them.”

Your expression softened at that.

“And I know you had to grow up fast,” he continued, “All of us who lived there did. But you're out of that now. You don't have to fucking try so hard to act older than you are anymore.”

Your eyes shone with anger once more.

“That's the thing you never got, Jason,” you spat, “I'm not trying. I never did. This is who I am.”

You were looking at him with such fierce intensity that Jason almost forgot how to breathe.

Because you were right. He had gone through the same process where he was made to grow up fast, where he couldn’t afford to act like a kid.

He looked at you, trying not to show much emotion on his face.

Somehow in the heat of the argument and you yelling cusses at him, the two of you had gotten closer to each other, and Jason could even see the tears brimming in your eyes that were threatening to spill.

He immediately felt like a piece of shit, like every word you called him. He never wanted to hurt you.

“Whatever,” Jason huffed, looking away to avoid your glare, “Just stay away from Roy.”

“Why, you two dating or something?” you smirked.

He simply glared at you. You obviously had recovered from your anger and was now back to your usual snarky self.

“Or,” you began, “You were jealous.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Jason objected, “Why would I be jealous?”

“Because,” you drawled, walking closer to him, “You like me.”

Jason had backed up each time you walked to him, and before he knew it his back was hitting the door.

Fuck, he hated how much you affected him. You had him backed up against the fucking door, for fuck’s sake.

To get a semblance of power back, he stared at you straight in the eye, unblinking, and leaned closer to you.

“You wish,” he said coldly.

He noticed that your breath stuttered, and a blush creeped up your cheeks.

Then, he leaned back and smirked.

“Oh, no you don't,” you shook your head, “You think you can win this game, Todd?”

“Unlike you, I'm not playing a game.”

“But yes you are, Jay,” you placed your palms flat on his chest, “You’ve been playing hard to get with me.”

“Playing hard to get is only used when the other person actually wants you,” he scoffed.

He didn't know why, but he was sweating. His respiratory rate had gone up, and shit.

Shit.

He could feel his dick getting filled up.

Maybe it was how close you were to him, maybe it was the fact that you were half naked in front of him with all the privacy he could have asked for.

Maybe it was the fact that it was you who had him in a corner instead of the other way round.

“I'm not a fucking idiot, Jay. Batman trained me, too. I've seen how you look at me and I’ve seen how you tried not to.”

Fuck.

“Your pupils dilate, your breathing gets faster, you start to sweat,” you went on, “And then suddenly you excuse yourself. You run away.”

Your hands went up to his shoulders, and your body was now against his, getting his clothes wet. He could smell the chlorine on you when you leaned into his ear and whispered.

“You fucking coward,” you breathed.

Jason's breath hitched and he had to squeeze his eyes shut. He pressed his palms against the door behind him to restrain himself from touching you, grabbing you, squeezing you, slapping you.

Jason knew he was fully hard now, because it was getting painful.

Suddenly, the pressure and heat of your body against his own disappeared. He opened his eyes.

But sucked in a breath when he saw that you were on your knees in front of him, eye level to his crotch, the tent in his pants mere inches away from your lips.

“What the fuck are you- mmpf,” he threw his head back, hitting the door.

You had gripped his shaft hard, sending a pulse of pleasure through his body.

No. Jason had to stop this. He couldn't go through with this. He shouldn't.

“You want me to suck your cock, Jay?” You purred.

Jason swallowed hard, just trying his best to restrain himself.

He remained silent for a beat. And then-

“Do whatever you want,” he managed to choke out.

You showed him a winning grin, and then unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, pulling down his jeans.

You started to mouth his length through the fabric of his boxers, getting it translucent with your spit. He had never been so horny in his entire life.

As much as Jason’s head was screaming at him, telling him to stop you, telling him how inappropriate it was, he didn’t have the strength to voice it out.

He wanted to tell you to stop teasing him, to hurry up and put your mouth around his cock already, but again, it was like he had lost his voice.

He was utterly conflicted, so he opt to just stay silent.

You hooked your fingers in the waistband of his briefs and then pulled it down, revealing his cock to you. He hissed slightly at the relief.

Jason wanted to remember your expression the minute you saw his cock forever, he wanted to burn it in his brain and immortalize it. Your eyes had gone rounder, your mouth popped open with a gasp, and your excitement grew.

“It’s everything that I’ve dreamed about and more,” you fluttered your eyes dramatically before gripping his shaft and licking one long, steady stripe from the base to his tip.

Jason bit his lip to muffle his groan.

You licked him again, and again, and then started to swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, tracing your tongue around the sulcus underneath his head.

Fuck, you were so fucking good at teasing him, and making him squirm.

He looked down at you, and you were looking up through your long lashes, eyes almost innocent. And then, you took him in his mouth, going all the way down.

“Fuck,” Jason gasped.

You immediately built a rhythm, the most perfect rhythm that he liked. It was suspicious how you knew his preference, and at the back of his head he made a mental reminder to check his room for hidden cameras.

You provided him with the right amount of tongue, the right amount of suction, the right amount of teeth gently grazing him from time to time that he swore could have drove him insane.

Your mouth was soft, and warm, and wet, and before he knew it, he was ready to fucking explode.

As if you were familiar with his expressions, you picked up the pace and started sucking even harder each time you bobbed your head. Jason felt his balls tighten, the heat spreading to his toes and making them tingle.

“Fuck- I’m gonna- I’m gonna-” he rasped.

And then he released with sudden explosion into your mouth, going through a sensory overdrive because as he was releasing, he could still feel you sucking him dry and swallowing.

When he was done, you released his cock with a pop and a grin.

Jason had to catch his breath for a while, because it was the best head he had ever received in his entire life, and he had managed to keep his hands off you the entire time.

“You made me jealous on purpose,” he panted.

“Duh,” you stood up after politely zipping him back up, putting your hands on your waist so fucking proudly, like a power stance.

“Where the hell did you learn how to suck cock that good?” he interrogated.

“You’ve lived in Titans Tower before,” you winked, “You should know.”

He didn’t like that. He didn’t like that statement and implication one bit.

“This can’t,” he started, “We can’t-”

“This can’t happen again?” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. “Typical. Just get over yourself already, Jason. It gets tiring.”

“I’m no good for you,” he avoided your eyes.

“You say that right after coming into my mouth,” you scoffed, “Sure.”

He clenched his jaw. You were right. He was trash for doing that to you, defiling you like that.

Jason must have let his emotions leak, because you suddenly added, “What I meant was, we’ve already crossed that line. We don’t have to go back to how it was before. I like you, Jason. And I know you like me, too.”

“That doesn’t matter,” he muttered, “This was a mistake. We can’t do this again. I’m sorry. Just stay away from me.”

He left.

***

He had avoided you for a long time after that.

Months went by, and he ignored your texts and your calls. Even the knockings outside his door. He had made sure to upgrade his security, with both Tim and Roy’s help so you couldn’t break in again.

When he went on patrols with everyone else, he made sure you couldn’t catch him alone, so he arrived at the very latest, and left at the very soonest, never exchanging more than a few words with you.

And every time, it killed him. He saw the hurt flash in your eyes every time he left quickly, he noticed that you had texted him less and less as the months went on, and eventually came to a complete stop.

You had even stopped calling him those weird, creative swear names that he loved so much.

Jason finally won. He had managed to get you to give up on him.

But hell did it make him feel like absolute shit.

Eight months had passed by, and he was getting ready for the event he had absolutely been dreading. It was your 18th birthday party that Bruce had used as an excuse to host a charity gala at the manor.

Jason thought it was a dick move for him to take advantage of your birthday for the sake of his own gain, but apparently you had been more than supportive over it, understanding Bruce’s position as one of Gotham’s elite.

He didn’t want to go. He couldn’t bear to face you again where you could pull him somewhere private to talk to him. But Dick and Tim had convinced him.

It was your birthday after all.

When he arrived, everyone was staring at him.

Well, he was wearing just a leather jacket over a black shirt and a pair of dark denim jeans after all.

“You couldn’t have dressed for the occasion, Jason?” he heard Tim approach him from behind.

Tim was sporting a suit, just like everyone else.

“Couldn’t be bothered,” he shrugged, “What’s the agenda?”

“Mingling, dinner, speeches, more mingling,” Tim listed down, “Typical charity ball. The others are at the tents. We should get going.”

“I’m the dead son, remember?” he pointed out, “I don’t need to sit with you guys.”

“We’ll introduce you as Dick’s boyfriend or something, come on,” Tim gestured.

“Oh, the media would love that,” Jason muttered under his breath and went along.

The banquet area was set outside in the backyard of the Manor, where tents with clear plastic canopies were propped up, decorated with fairy lights. Since it was spring, the weather was cool enough for suits and warm enough for strapless dresses.

The main tent had a stage where a band was playing classical music- typical tunes you would hear at any other fucking gala.

Each table seated ten, and Tim had brought Jason to a table closest to the stage where he saw Dick, Bruce, and you were already seated with four others. He recognized the Mayor, the Commissioner, Lucius Fox, and a middle aged woman with greying hair he didn’t recognize with who Jason presumed was her husband.

Jason avoided looking at you, but he knew that you were staring right at him. Tim took a seat, and Jason cursed softly when he realised that the only other seat available was in between you and Dick.

Looking straight ahead, he calmly sat down. From the corner of his eye and from a portion of what he could make out, he saw that you were wearing a midnight blue dress, and a silver bracelet around your wrist which you rested on the table.

Bruce had started to converse with the guests, and Dick and Tim were having a banter amongst themselves.

“Hey,” he heard your voice.

“Happy birthday,” he mumbled.

“Thanks,” you replied.

And that was that. The two of you remained silent, with Jason occasionally checking his phone and still avoiding looking at you.

“It’s time for our speech,” Jason heard Bruce whisper to you.

He heard you get up and shuffled to the stage. He was hardly paying attention during Bruce’s welcome speech.

“...and then, the woman of the hour, my lovely daughter,” Bruce introduced you. The audience broke out in applause. Jason still hadn’t turned your way.

“Hello, everyone,” he heard your uncharacteristically nervous and shy voice over the sound system. He took a sip of wine. “T-thank coming for you all- uh- I mean-”

The audience laughed, but not in mockery. Jason couldn’t help but look at you now.

He accidentally inhaled his wine, and ended up trying to cover his coughing fits.

Up on stage, where the spotlight was on you, he had noticed your midnight blue dress had small sparkling stars on them, making you seem like you were wearing the clear night sky. Your hair was done in a simple graceful updo, which exposed your neck that he noticed was flushed, a blush creeping up to your cheeks at your own embarrassment.

Your eyes were wide in panic, and you kept on playing with your thumbs subconsciously.

His breath stuttered, because he thought you were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes on.

You were usually so snarky, so full of confidence, and wit with a mouth that could make a sailor blush- but there you were spluttering all over the microphone, a blushing mess. And hell, did that make Jason’s chest tighten in yearning for you.

“I’m sorry, I’m not used to crowds like my father is,” you tried to laugh it off, “Here, let’s try again.”

Despite your fumbles, you had a certain charm on stage that made everyone just like you.

“Thank you all for coming to my eighteenth birthday party,” you started, “I must admit, at first I wanted my party to be small and intimate. But I realised that this celebration could be used for something good instead.”

Another round of claps.

“I come from a very… humbling area in Gotham. I’m sure we’re all familiar with Crime Alley,” you stated, confidence growing as you got used to being on stage, “It was hard, living as a child in the streets. But I got lucky. Bruce Wayne found me.”

“Being the daughter of Bruce Wayne has taught me a lot about understanding and acknowledging my own privilege and using it to help others. Growing up there, myself and many other children were faced with the harsh reality of poverty and abandonment. Therefore, I would like to announce that I have started a foundation called Wayne’s Foundation for Children of Hope, where all proceeds will go to the development of Crime Alley.”

You paused and smiled at the flashing cameras of the media and waited for the applause to die down.

“Our first initiative is to build a home for lost children aged eighteen and under, to provide shelter, basic healthcare, food, and education. The primary goal of these shelters is to help kids find a place where they belong, and to help set them back on the right track. These kids also have the option to maintain anonymity for cases that involve abusive environments.”

Jason was looking at you in awe. You were standing proudly at the podium, graceful in your posture, a fierce intensity in your eyes- all previous nervousness completely gone.

Next to him, Dick leaned in and whispered, “It was all her idea, you know. Every single plan for this foundation, even the future plans she hadn’t mentioned. All hers.”

Jason remained silent and watched as you continued your speech.

“But the truth is,” you smiled sadly, “It’s still not enough. The situation in a lot of areas in Gotham is painfully swept under the rug. But hopefully with this, people like us can make things a little better for them. If you’d like to donate to the foundation, it would mean a lot to me, and to the other kids who had to grow up too fast.”

You made eye contact with Jason at that last statement, causing his heart to suddenly drum faster.

The crowd broke in a loud applause and you thanked them graciously, waving as you stepped down from the podium to take your seat.

This time, Jason didn’t take his eyes off you.

“That was great!” Tim gave you a thumbs up, “You did great!”

“Well done,” Dick grinned.

Jason took your hand and gave it a little squeeze, just smiling at you in silence. You looked at him with obvious shock, and then grinned back.

“Beautiful, Ms. Wayne,” the Mayor sitting across from you beamed, “You’ve taken after your father’s charms.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mayor,” you nodded, “But I’d like to think that my charms are my own.”

Jason had to bite back a laugh when he saw the man turn red.

He was somehow more relaxed now, even sparing occasional glances at you as you conversed with others. The dance floor was now open, and the guests had left their seats to mingle with others. The MC also announced that the bar was open.

“That’s my cue,” Jason winked at you, and then went straight to the bar to get himself something strong. From there, he just leaned back and watched how the disgustingly rich people made themselves feel better about themselves by donating the occasional couple of million dollars. Soon enough, he got sick of the pearls and diamond earrings, the solid gold watches.

He checked his own battered and scratched Swiss Army watch he had lifted from a drug lord many years ago. He should be going back soon. It wasn’t like he was needed there anyway. He had already wished you and made peace.

“What do you think?” he heard your voice approach him.

He turned and saw you come up next to him.

“Too fancy for my taste,” he started, “Looks like it took you a whole hour just to get into the damn thing. And those shoes? Looks like the crowbar was less painful than walking around in that.”

It took you a couple of seconds before realising that he was talking about your outfit.

“I meant the foundation, you fucknugget,” you hissed.

“Be careful there, sweetheart,” he raised an eyebrow, “Don’t want these people hearing you speak like that. You’ll lose your charm.”

“I don’t know how Bruce does it,” you shook your head, “It’s so exhausting.”

Jason hummed back at you as a comfortable silence fell. The two of you leaning back against the bar and just watching the crowd.

“I think it’s a great idea,” he finally said.

“Thanks,” you pursed your lips, “I kept on thinking of you, you know? When we were coming up with the plans. Was wondering what you would think of it.”

“You’re making it sound like I’m the only one from there.”

“Well, you’re the only one who would understand,” you explained, “The others, of course they empathized. But they wouldn’t understand. Not like how you and I do.”

And Jason realised that it was that factor that probably drew you close to him when you first came to them, the fact that Jason understood at more than just a superficial level how shit your life was before coming to the manor. It was a painful past that only the two of you shared, and only the two of you could talk about.

Silence fell again.

“I’m sorry,” you suddenly brought up.

“For what?” he frowned.

“For making you uncomfortable for so long,” you whispered, “I don’t know why I did it. I guess I liked your reactions. And I guess I just wanted your attention. And during that pool party- I- I thought-”

Jason waited for you to finish your sentence.

“Nevermind,” you looked away, “Forget it. I just wanted to say sorry. I crossed the line. After you stopped talking to me, I just. I don’t want that. So I’ll stop, okay? You don’t have to avoid me anymore.”

He turned around to face you.

“I stopped talking to you not because I was mad at you,” he told you, “I stopped talking to you because I was mad at myself.”

You faced him with curious eyes.

“I thought- well- fuck,” it was Jason’s turn to splutter. He took a deep breath and started again. “I thought that it was a real shit move for me to do what I did to you.”

“Wait, what?” you questioned, “What you did to me?”

“Yeah,” he grumbled, “You know. That.”

“Jason, I was the one who practically jumped you,” you scoffed, “I basically forced it on you. Why are you blaming yourself?”

“Force me? Pfftsh, you couldn’t force me to do anything.”

“Jason.”

“I liked it, okay?” he threw his arms up, “I didn’t stop you because I liked it, and I shouldn’t have liked it. I was taking advantage of you. It was wrong of me to do so.”

“God, you’re so fucking stupid,” you laughed, “I’ve been pining over you since Bruce told me you were… You know who.”

You lowered your voice.

“Want to talk inside?” he offered.

“Good idea,” you agreed.

The two of you made your way past the garden and into the manor.

“Is it okay for the birthday girl to disappear from her own party?” he smirked when he closed the door to Bruce’s study, which was the nearest room that offered privacy.

“Oh, please,” you waved your hand and sat on Bruce’s desk, “The whole party was never about me. I’m just another excuse for those cuntflaps to show off their new diamonds.”

He chuckled. “Anyway, you were saying? Something about Bruce telling me I was Red Hood?”

“Yeah,” you bit your lip in nervousness, “I’ve had a crush on you since then.”

“Really?”

Jason knew that you obviously had a crush on him, especially because of the neverending teasing and seductions, but he didn’t know it stemmed from that long ago.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I remember thinking to myself, like wow. This is the guy who killed them. And you know what? You looked exactly like how I thought you would.”

“What? How so?”

“Huge,” you started, “Scars everywhere. Grouchy as hell.”

“I’m not as grouchy as Bruce,” he defended himself.

“Still,” you chuckled, “You looked exactly like how I imagined my hero to look.”

“Super hot, sexy, and good looking?” he joked.

He had expected you to roll your eyes and throw an insult at him, but you just tightened your lips and looked away.

“Look, k- sweetheart,” he stopped himself from calling you a kid. From what he saw on the stage earlier, you were already so much better than he was. “I’m going to be honest, alright? And you better damn well appreciate it, because I’m never honest.”

You giggled softly. He walked to stand in front of you at the desk.

“I think you’re great,” he stated, “And I think you’re beautiful, and sexy. And…”

He hesitated, thinking of whether or not to continue.

Fuck it. He might as well.

“And I like you,” he forced out, “More than you know. Fuck, I like you. I like you so much it fucking hurts sometimes.”

You looked up at him with hopeful, glistening eyes.

“But I’m no good for you,” he repeated what he said all those months ago, “I can never do what you just did. Start a fucking charity on your birthday and announce it to the world as if it was nothing. Fuck, I don’t think I should even be seen walking around next to you when you look like that. I’m a fucking mess, sweetie. You don’t want that.”

He saw as you digest what he had just said. Then, you looked up at him and asked, “What do you think I want?”

“What do I think?” he repeated.

You nodded.

“I think you should be with someone who’s closer to your age, for one,” he rolled his eyes, “And someone who doesn’t have scars all over their face. Someone who isn’t grouchy. Someone charming who can stand next to you on stage wearing a proper suit and tie.”

“You’re right,” you nodded, “I should be with someone like that.”

Jason felt a pang in his chest at your agreement.

“But I don’t want to be with someone like that,” you continued, “I want to be with someone who was ready to hunt down and hurt the people who terrorized me for years. I want to be with someone whose face is littered with scars as proof that they went through just as much shit as I did and survived.”

You hopped from the desk and stood up straight, stretching your hand up to cup Jason’s face. He leaned into the warmth of your caress, his breath hitching at the close contact. His hands automatically went to rest on your waist, still respectfully high.

“I want you, Jason,” you whispered, pulling him down to your lips, “I want someone who can handle my bites.”

To demonstrate, you sucked in his lower lip, eliciting a low moan from him.

And then you bit down hard.

He gasped at the stinging pain, and then sighed when you massaged his lip with yours. Heat suddenly spread throughout his body, particularly at his member which was growing hard fast. He could smell the wine on your breath that you must have snuck a few sips from, the vanilla lotion you always wore, and a new particularly enticing perfume that you must have gotten for the occasion.

“I want someone who can call me a little bitch straight to my face,” Jason felt you grin against his lips.

The two of you were kissing now, harsh and forceful, as if deprived of touch. Fuck, he loved how you were nipping at his lips and his tongue, tugging his hair lightly.

Both of you gasped for air, and just stood there foreheads against each other, his erection pressed against your stomach, your hands around his neck.

“I want someone who is resourceful enough to enhance his home security to make sure I don’t break in and fuck myself with his weapons again,” you chuckled.

“Was it…” he started, “Was it loaded?”

“You bet it was,” you smiled.

“Fuck,” he swore and then crashed his lips against yours again. He lifted you up to sit on the desk, and then stood in between your open thighs. At the slightly elevated level, he could properly grind his erection against your pussy, still covered by your dress.

“You liked that?” you giggled, “I thought you weren’t into that. I got a bit worried.”

“Hell yeah, I liked that,” he rasped, “What kind of sane man wouldn’t?”

He started to nibble on the skin on your neck, sucking and biting and licking

“I’m pretty sure not everyone is into the thought of fucking a loaded gun into a pussy,” you laughed, “Which proves my point. You and me? We’re perfect, Jay- fuck, don’t leave any marks, dumbass.”

“Point taken, baby.”

“Mmm, call me that again,” you moaned.

He stopped nibbling on your neck, brought his eyes to yours, and with a defiant smirk, he said, “No.”

It was like Jason saw the switch in you flick on, because you suddenly pushed him away aggressively. He stumbled, not expecting it.

“Oh, you think you’re in control, Todd?” you purred, twisting your fists in his leather jacket. You were shorter than him, and your frame much smaller. But Jason just loved the authority that radiated from you.

“You think you’re the one who has power over me?” you drawled, pulling him to the side where Bruce had set up a leather sofa and a coffee table.

“When all this while, I’m the one who had you wrapped around my finger?” you snarled, and then pushed him down on the sofa.

Before Jason could even register what was happening, you were already on top of him, straddling him. He looked up at you, the pressure of your weight on his crotch making him pant with want.

“So are you going to call me baby again?” you asked sweetly, tugging at his jacket to remove it.

“Maybe in due time,” he gasped when you bit the flesh that connected his neck and shoulder hard.

Fuck, he was throbbing in his pants.

You took off his shirt and ran your hand down his body. Jason smirked when he saw you bite your lip as you took in his figure.

He still had a bit of fight left in him, and he wasn’t going to beg.

Yet.

“Why must you be so stubborn, Todd?” you breathed, teeth catching at his earlobe and biting. You were rocking your hips against his erection, and he swore that if you didn’t take it out, he was going to rip a hole in his pants with it.

“H-hey, you’ve always been the pushy one,” he stuttered.

“That’s because I like to get what I want,” you pinched his nipples hard.

“Fuck!” he yelped at the sudden pain, and then glared at you as you just grinned cheekily. “I don’t know why I never took you for a sadist before this.”

“Because you’re an idiot, Jay,” you teased, “All I did was torture you.”

“Yes, you did,” he rested his hands on your hips, motioning for you to grind on him harder, “You made me so fucking hard on purpose, and then I had to go back and jerk off to you, which made it worse because I felt so fucking guilty after.”

“That was your own fault,” you frowned. You were finally, finally unbuckling his belt. “You saw me as a kid when I wasn’t.”

“You were still underaged, you brat,” he laughed, “It didn’t matter if you were wise beyond your years- ah, fuck yeah.”

You had finally unzipped him, releasing him from the constraints of his denim.

“Take everything off for me, Jay,” you demanded, sitting up on your knees to give him room to do so.

He listened to you happily, glad to be rid of his clothes. His cock slapped against his lower abdomen, already leaking so much precum.

“Why am I the only one naked?” he voiced out his displeasure.

“Because it took me twenty minutes to get into this dress, and I’m not undressing for anyone before the night is over,” you announced.

“But, baby,” he pouted, rejoicing at how he made your breath hitch, and rested his chin between your breasts, “I want to see your tits.”

You frowned and bit your lip as you looked down at him, considering his plea. He made a mental reminder that you must like dirty talk.

“Then make sure you don’t go home so early tonight,” you managed to choke out.

Jason thought that you also must have liked to be the submissive one, as well.

You leaned into him and kissed him again, this time less rough. He moaned into your mouth, slipping his tongue in as he grabbed your hips and tried to rub his cock against your pussy, underneath your dress. He gasped when he felt that you were already bare, and leaking.

“What happened to your- your panties?” he rasped.

“Long gone,” you winked.

“Fuck, you fucking nymph,” he chuckled, and then groaned when you started to slide the head of his cock between your wet lips.

“Jason, I’ve wanted your cock so bad,” you muttered into his ear as you rubbed your slick all over his length, “You’ve no idea how many times I’ve fucked myself with- with whatever I could find, pretending it was you.”

“Fuck, baby,” he whined, throwing his head back against the couch. Your dirty mouth was doing so many things to him, he was worried that he was going to come right there and then.

“After that time I sucked you off?” you continued, “All I wanted was to choke on it, Jay. I just want your dick in my throat.”

You lifted your hips and sank down onto him. Both of you groaned lowly in pleasure. Fuck, you were so tight, and warm, and wet, and oh so soft.

“Ah! Jason!” you cried out when he bottomed out, “Fuck, I’m going to feel you for fucking days.”

“Shit, baby,” he choked, “Baby, please. Please, move.”

“You want me to move?” you teased.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“How would you like me to move, Jay?” you smiled.

“Any- I don’t care-”

“Nice, and slow like this?” you lifted your hips up, and Jason could feel the torturously slow drag of your walls against his shaft, even as you sanked back down you were slow.

“Hnng- fuck-” Jason mewled, lost for words. “Please.”

It was all he could say.

“Or hard and fast like this?” you slammed your hips down, and started bouncing on his cock at a brutal pace that knocked his breath out.

“Fuck!” he yelled, “Fuck, baby, fuck!”

You weren’t being any softer as well. Through tear-filled hazy eyes, Jason saw your eyes fluttered close in pleasure, your mouth falling open as you cried out wanton moans, and gasped, and groaned for him.

“Jason! Fuck, Jay, fuck!”

He couldn’t take it anymore.

He gripped your hips hard, and then started to fuck himself up into you, matching your pace, making you fucking scream.

He could feel your walls tighten around his cock, the same time you started whining, “Jason, Jason, I’m gonna- I’m gonna-”

“Me too, sweetheart, me too,” he gasped.

“Come inside me, Jason, please!” you sobbed.

“But-”

“Just- just- please, please, please,” you squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back.

Jason felt your pussy clench tight onto him, triggering his own orgasm. He released inside you while still fucking you hard, trying to prolong both of your highs.

Soon, he was oversensitive, the feeling of your walls almost painful. You calmed down, still panting above him, and he just couldn’t help but stare at you in amazement.

“Holy shit,” you giggled above him, “Holy shit, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Uh- I,” he panicked, “I came inside of you, fuck!”

“I’m on the pill, don’t worry,” you smiled, “Fuck, I just. I just wanted to walk around after this with my panties soaked in your cum.”

“How the fuck are you eighteen and already so fucking kinky,” he groaned.

You only laughed and slowly lifted yourself off of him. He hissed at the movement, feeling hypersensitive at every touch.

You went to look for your panties, which Jason noticed were a lacy black, and then put them on under your dress.

He was still sprawled out on the sofa naked, sweaty, and well spent.

“I also didn’t want any of your spunk to get on my dress,” you told him.

“S’pretty dress,” he mumbled back to you.

“You should get dressed, Jay,” you walked towards him, hands on your hips.

“Do I need to get back out there?” he complained, “Can’t I just wait in your room?”

“If you get dressed and attend the party, I’ll let you fuck me with one of your guns,” you promised.

“Really?” his eyes widen, and then he jumped back up to put on his clothes.

“I gotta tell you something, though,” you started.

“What is it?” he hummed, tucking his black shirt into his jeans.

“The safety was on,” you said, “On the gun, I mean. It was loaded, but the safety was on.”

“Oh, baby,” he looked at you seriously, “If you told me the safety was off, I would have shot you myself for being so stupid.”

You giggled.

He gave you his arm. “Shall we?”

“Yes, we shall,” you took it. “By the way.”

“What?”

“Are you going to switch back to a more lax security?”

“And have you breaking in again? You wish, kid.”

[astranne]

Jason Todd, the Idol

notes // after ranting over my drafts, then wonho, then jason again and then connecting the dots- here i am, with an idol au. jason as an idol, who would've thought. and before you come at me, this is based on the headcanon that sandra woosan is jason's mother. here is a link. this is not edited/proofread, yall are literally reading what i typed and i deleted nothing. enjoy shitty conversations and random grammar mistakes 😌

It happens after he almost gets killed by Batman, again. He almost lost his voice, another scar added to the many he has already. But he survives, he survives goddamn Batman, the fucking Joker, he just... lives another day.

He's bitter, of course, who wouldn't be. But he's especially bitter towards the person who saved him. His mother. His actual mother. Apparently Sheila lied like a bitch she was, may she burn in hell, and his mother was Sandra Woosan. And she finally deemed him worthy to be recognized as her son.

Yeah, well, fuck her too. Fuck her, fuck Talia, fuck the Replacement, just- fuck everybody. Jason is so done, done being played, done dying, done getting hurt over and over again.

While he makes the decision to leave, his biological mother starts to talk about legacy and him learning from her. He can't exactly tell, he stopped listening to her a long time ago.

He left as soon as he could. But then Talia got him and she too started talking about going back to Gotham or joining her, it was his choice after all, she would support him no matter what.

Bullshit.

Jason didn't do anything she said and just left. Once again. Praying to any deity out there he would be actually left alone.

His prayers are answered. Somewhat.

-

He's somewhere in Japan, in a cozy little restaurant, drinking shake and eating awesome ramen. Jason is having a peacful time, until a random teenager plops right next to him and asks him what's wrong with him.

"Don't mind me, but you are gorgerous- like man, who made you?" Jason just stares, not knowing what to answer.

"Alright, who made you sad? Looking like this doesn't do anything for your beauty, I'm telling you."

And Jason just... spills. He tells the stranger how he found out about his birth mother, about his father, and just dumping everything. And the teenager has good advice.

"Just do something that has all of them shaking in rage, because you're doing what you want. And do it fucking good- slay it, show them who the boss is. Write a book, become an actor, a farmer, marry someone- hell, become a buddhist! Just something nothing your shitty parents want from you. Do what you want."

But Jason doesn't know what he wants. Not anymore.

-

He wanders around first, not knowing what do to and where to go. From Japan to Australia, then to Spain, then to Brazil- all around the world, searching for something he wants, while rubbing it everyone faces.

A group of teenager girls help him make his decision.

-

Jason hears them gushing over something, and from what he could hear and see, it was about some famous people? Actors, maybe singers? They are very enthuaiastic about it, which is the reason why he goes up to them and asks them bluntly about it.

They just blink, shocked a man like him would want to know what their talking about, not in a negative way, just simply curious.

Idols. They're talking about idols.

-

Jason decides to become an idol. And he would be fucking good at being an idol.

He is not prepared for the shitshow.

-

He does his research, reads about rumors, goes deep into the fandoms and collects any kind of information that could be helpful.

And once he thinks he's prepared enough, he signs up as a trainee.

-

His trainers and the company quickly realize, how fast Jason learns. When they ask, he just shrugs and goes, "I trained martial arts, dancing is pretty much similar. And singing is easy once you get over stage fright."

They put him in a group close to their debut, announce him and people freak the fuck out.

-

It's his presence, his ease in dancing, that dangerous smile, his eyes, his hair- the white streak, the muscles. And his voice- the smoothness while singing, the roughness when rapping.

He's introduced as Jason, stage name Shiva and quickly becomes the center of his group.

-

Sadly, it doesn't work long with his group.

Classical drama happens, their fans are fighting everyone, the members are doing shit they shouldn’t do and the company disbands the group.

But they don't let go of Jason. Not that he wants them too.

He threatened the CEO of the company, if they don't give him the career he wants to rub in his parents faces, he's going to sue, after destroying him and his lifework. And he will do it without hesitation. The CEO believes him.

-

Shiva starts a solo career. And without a group holding him back, Jason takes over as a K-pop idol.

There are many internet fights about him being a K-pop idol, when he's chinese and american. While fluently speaking korean, japanese, spanish, english and some more languages.

Jason doesn't care about that, it only makes him even more famous. Something he definitely wants. And he gets very famous.

[dickgrayson80sremixmp3]

jason_the_midnight.mp3

(baby wrote a songfic like it’s 2012)

writing tag/ ao3

People never look up in Gotham.

First of all, it's practically always raining. Heavy, slanting sheets of rain which more often than not sting the eyes in a way that pure water really shouldn't do. Secondly, you're likely to look up and see some supervillain cackle as they ready their death ray and then what? Better not to look at all.

All this means that a vigilante not long returned from the dead can observe the city go by beneath him in relative peace. Jason Todd, at twenty two, finally finds a sense of quiet he hasn't felt in a long time when he's perched up high on one of Gotham City's ubiquitous gargoyles, rain soaking his hair and the white streak the Pit gave him (that still surprises him in the mirror), watching cars drive past and Gothamites go about their business. The whole event makes him calm enough to finally give some thought to you (as if he hadn't thought of you every day since he'd come back, even when he was too raving with Pit madness to know who the girl in his mind was.)

                                                            ~

After some digging, he'd discovered that you were studying at Gotham University, just like the two of you had planned at age fourteen, perched on the roof of the manor and staring at the stars, revelling in the moment before Alfred inevitably found you and made you get down where it was safe. Jason had always planned to major in English literature and minor in creative writing, and even today he feels the tug of need unfurl deep in his heart whenever he thinks of hurrying between lectures, scribbling lines into his notebooks, losing himself in the university library. Your plans had always been more hazy, swinging wildly between dreams of ancient philosophy, or sustainable development, or Asian cinema,  or climate science. He wonders what you've settled on. He could easily find your transcript and know for certain but he still harbours a dream of making up with you, having you tell him your major and your plans and your dreams like a friend again.

Three nights a week, he discovers, you sing and occasionally play bass in a four piece band, performing in bars across South Gotham. You've been together since junior year of high school (after him, after he'd left you alone and gone and got himself blown up, a poisonous voice whispers in Jason's head as he hunches over his phone, reading your Spotify bio) - you the beautiful front woman with three other men on guitar, drums, and keyboards. Looks like she forgot you quickly enough, the voice suggests slyly and Jason can't find any way to argue. The few songs posted on your page reveal a dedication to the 80s retrowave, synth heavy music you'd loved back when he first knew you, a love shared by Dick. Jason remembers sitting in roiling jealousy as you and Dick excitedly swapped recommendations, as you sat up in the front seat of Dick's car while the two of you blasted your favourite tracks, Jason forgotten in the backseat. Just one more thing Dick had that he didn't.

 The videos he finds under your tagged mentions show you in smoky, dingy bars, tall in platform sandals and wide, high waisted jeans, casually stunning in tiny strappy tank tops and dark eyeliner. His breath catches high in his chest as he watches these videos, heart hammering in his ears as he sees how you've grown up, hears your sultry, magnetic voice wind through his thoughts. The secret crush he'd always harboured rears itself with a vengeance at these moments, torturing him with images of what could've been, with the reminder that he really never had got over you.

 Eventually Jason leans into the inevitable and turns up to some of your regular spots, nursing a surprisingly cheap drink and lurking towards the back of the room, where he can watch you but you can't spot him. Not that you would, even if you thought he looked familiar - your Jason was dead, wasn't he?

 You look like a dream, hair loose, eyes sparkling in the dim lighting of the bar. The pink and blue neon lights flicker across the lines of your face, catching on the gold of your jewellery and dazzling him. Not just him, he quickly realises, as he hears the man to his left order a drink 'for the gorgeous singer' and he can't help but look. Blonde, well dressed in suit and tie even though his top buttons are undone and his hair is askew. He just screams 'financial district' and there's a smug surety in the way he stares at you, like he's confident you won't be able to resist him. Jason grits his teeth as he watches the barman catch your attention. You lean down to hear what he says into your ear as he hands you the glass, hair falling over your shoulder. As you straighten, your eyes scan the bar and Jason instinctively sinks lower into his collar. Your eyes slide right over him. The banker asshole raises his glass at you and you smile sweetly.

 "Thanks for the drink Darren" you say, eyes crinkling at the edges, and "Darren" visibly puffs his chest, eyes trailing over your body shamelessly. Jason notices however that you only take one sip of the drink before setting it aside and not touching it again, and his shoulders release a little of their tension.

The bar closes at around 2am, and the band packs up just before this. You hop down off the stage, retrieving your bag from behind the bar, your platforms already swinging in your hand as you jam your feet into sneakers. You drag a huge grey hoodie over your tiny, spaghetti strap top, an old red jacket following quickly after. It's not until Jason's fifth or sixth time watching that he recognises the jacket as the one he used to wear everywhere as a fifteen year old, and his heart clenches a little at the realisation. A Styrofoam box of leftover bar food is pushed into your hands as you swing your bass over your shoulder, and you grin at the old barman as you wave to your bandmates, pausing at the door only to pull the hood up over your head as you run to catch the last night bus heading north towards 24th and Fairway. From the rooftops, Jason observes as you drop into a window seat, leaning your head against your bass and watching the raindrops slide down the glass for the forty five minutes it takes to get to your apartment building. He knows it’s weird to watch you like this, but panic claws its way up his throat every time he even imagines telling you he's still alive. Better that you never know, better you remember him as he was than be confronted with how he's changed, better that Jason never has to see Bruce's look of disappointment as it manifests on your face.

 Far, far too early the next morning you emerge again, this time with sweats replacing your jeans and a backpack replacing your bass. Earphones jammed in your ears, you nod your head absently as you walk to class. There are dark circles under your eyes, and your hair is still wet from the shower and pulled into a hasty braid, and Jason can never bring himself to look away.

                                                            ~

 Some days he indulges himself, tucks one of the battered paperbacks he's swiped from the library at the manor into his back pocket, walks around the campus like he's a student. It's stupid, really, and the shame he can't shake makes him a little awkward, but none of the other students look twice at him, even on the hot days when he's still in long sleeves and jeans, keeping his hands tucked into his pockets to hide the thick bands of scar tissue across his knuckles. He's not even the biggest guy on campus, considering GU's mediocre football team, and generally Jason finds that an old ballcap to cover the white tuft in his hair and keeping his head bowed prevents anyone's gaze ever resting on him longer than a second.

 It's useful, being so invisible, but lonely, and inevitably Jason gets too used to it.

 He gets a fright, one day, when he's reading alone under a maple tree in the middle of the quad (Ray Bradbury, an old favourite) and suddenly hears your voice, loud and laughing, only a few feet away. He jumps, eyes flicking to you in panic, before he remembers himself and tucks his chin, lifting his book slightly to cover the bottom half of his face. His caution is ingrained but unwarranted; you never even glance at him. Safely unnoticed, he watches with an ache in his chest as you hurry across the grass, kicking your flipflops off as you go until you're barefoot, casual in a big white t shirt and cycle shorts. The man walking besides you carries your backpack, and hands it to you once you flop down besides a group of people just over from Jason (unlike him, they bask in the sun). He recognises your bandmates, young, handsome, confident, as well as some girls he's never seen before. They heckle through their laughter as you hug your companion goodbye, and the two of you grin good-naturedly as he says his goodbyes and continues across the quad. The chapter heading squiggles and winds across the page, and Jason can't keep his eyes off you now, however pathetic he feels. He notices everything, from the way you giggle wildly and whisper to your girlfriends to the way the boys grab at your bare legs and pinch your sides trying to find out what you're saying. You look comfortable and relaxed and so, so happy, as you pull your ponytail loose and flick the hair tie at the dark skinned boy besides you, that he almost can't stand it. He breathes through it, slowly, like Alfred showed him so long ago, and the lump in his throat lessens, and he's able to return to his book, even if the appeal has worn off slightly and he can still feel your presence burning in his peripheral vision.

That day, when he returns to his bare, empty apartment he resolves to at least try to stop torturing himself. It doesn't stop him dropping in to your shows at least once a week, but he's working on not wanting to cry every time he sees you. He cuts down on campus visits too, and squashes the disappointment when he doesn't see you in the quad again. Mostly. It's hard being dead.

                                                           ~

"This is a new old song" you say one night, just before closing. "I wrote it a while back but I've never felt comfortable to sing it before now."

 You pause for a moment, eyes casting down, and the blonde man in the denim jacket, the guitarist on your right, pats your arm gently. Jason recognises the longing look in his eyes as he looks at you as an expression he himself had worn most of his teen years. Hell, he's probably wearing it right now.

 "It's about loving someone you can't have" you say, looking back out at the crowd again determinedly, "and it's called Jason"

 Jason starts at this, his drink sloshing over the edge of his glass and onto the bar in front of him. Distracted by the heat curling up over his cheekbones, he almost misses the next words out of your mouth:

 "Jason in this song is a bit of an asshole" you say, your lips quirking on one side, "which is a little unfair to the real Jason, who was wonderful."

 Your eyes are soft as the band counts in and Jason stares unabashedly as you start to sing.

 You were right, this Jason is an asshole, and it stings a bit to hear you sing  'he'll only let you down', but it's nothing compared to the ache he gets when you reach the chorus -

 oh, Jason, tell me what you're chasing,

because the night will never give you what you want,

oh, Jason, and if you can't escape it,

I hope you find whatever you've been looking for'

- because even though there were never any other girls, not for him, it was true that he'd left you, ran out of your life calling something about finding his real mother and never came back...

Lost in his memories, his blood is rushing in his ears and he's rooted to the spot. Normally he's long gone by the time you're heading out but this time he's still sitting at the bar and you hurry past close enough to touch, close enough for him to briefly feel the warmth of your skin on his back. Luckily for him your attention is focussed on your phone screen, cursing as you see the time, and you pass by without noticing him. His breathing is unsteady as he grapples with the realisation that all that time he'd spent silently loving you, you'd been loving him right back.

Go after her! Something whispers to him, in a voice that sounds suspiciously like Dick.

Yeah. Yeah, maybe, Jason finally thinks, breathless.

 Maybe.

                                                           ~

(is the music based on my favourite music? yes. are the outfits based on my outfits? also yes. are the fuckin classes based on classes i’ve taken? i’ll give you three guesses)

tagging a couple of my favourite dc writers bc i am stupid and now can’t remember anyone else i like to read lmao anyways <3 @prettylittlebrownskingyal  + @ereawrites + @angelz-dust <3

[internalsealpanic]

Jason Todd Masterlist

Orpheus AU (Finished but side stories are going to be added)

Summary: The myth of Orpheus and Eurydice but with a more Cape Crusader twist

Lover, Tell Me, If You’re Able

summary:  You trek down to the underworld to save a certain Robin using your admittedly limited knowledge of Greek Mythology. Nothing a little moxie can’t fix right?

Times Being What They are

summary:  You and Jason end up working a case together and start a prison riot.

False Face AU (on going)

summary: Being the one nonvigilante in the Batfamily, you take it upon yourself to insert yourself into an investigation. Sadly, your target happens to be the infamous Jason Sionis.

I will be Your Tim Drake Tonight: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

summary:  Preferring to do anything but your physics project, you decide to accepts Tim’s proposal. It’s simple. He does your project, you try to figure out whether Jason Sionis is criminal. Easy, right?

Merzost’ (More of a side story)

summary:  Merzost’. Abomination. Monster.

Alternate Timeline for my Merc AU featuring baby Jason: 

Note: This AU is a series of writing exercises that feature Dick and my Merc!Reader adopting Jason instead of Bruce doing it. 

Communism is Always the Answer

Summary:  Dick is not allowed rights after that stunt.

 One shot: 

Snowfall Dance

Summary: It's hard to have fun when you're stuck in the middle of nowhere in the midst of a blizzard.

You Let Me Die

summary:  After a run-in with the Scarecrow, Jason finds himself in a blank room with the reader. He is forced to confront his failures.

Useless

Summary:  Jason has no idea how ‘get a guard dog’ could be misinterpreted.

Discomfort in Safety

Summary: It is best to be careful with prizes

Discontinuity of Flesh

summary:  When Gotham calls, her vigilantes answer.

not a reader insert 

Person-shaped

summary:  Jason experiences a crippling bout of stage fright and to his surprise, you’re being helpful.

batsis Reader

The Sun Curls

summary:  Nothing productive happens when the sun is curled up.

[imagining-sio]

Red Blood & A Heart of Gold V

Summary: shit goes down and I thought the gif was funny

Jason Todd x reader

Chapter Five

————————————————————————

The party was going great. I was silently judging everyone as they clearly showed evidence that they were alcoholic assholes. Many of the women were A, desperate to give Wayne their number, and B, either way too old, or too young to do so.

No word from Gordon on my earpiece, which was good. Until the signal ceased entirely. I ushered Mr. Wayne to the side of the room as I tried to figure what was wrong with the earpiece.

That’s when it all went to shit.

A violent, wild spray of bullets echoed throughout the ballroom. Men appeared at every stair well and were spaced out evenly on the balcony above. This was not how it was supposed to turn out.

“Ladies and Gentlemen will you please shut the fuck up!” Black Mask stood at the podium onstage. He took the microphone in his hand, standing upon stage, flanked by four gunmen behind him. He stood out among the other masked men due to his White suit and ebony mask. His gloves matched the color of his mask. No one in the entire room wore a white suit, making him stand out like a sore thumb.

A tense silence grew over the room. Many couples were huddling together out of fear.

“Thank you. Now you are probably wondering why I’ve decided to crash this boring party. But I personally could use a little boring.” he continued.

I kept Wayne close, making sure that he was within arm’s reach. We were at the back of the crowd, which was by the kitchen doors. I kept a hand on his back as I peered behind us, we were just under the balcony, where a goon stood.

“On my signal you run into the kitchen,” I said to him, subtly pulling my pistol out.

“What?”

“Just, do as I say Mr. Wayne. When I say run, you run through the kitchen until you get into the street, call the police; and tell them what’s happening. Do you understand?”

He nodded with fear in his eyes. I flicked the safety off my weapon as Black Mask kept monologue-ing. I crept under the shadow of the balcony, ever so slowly to make sure that the goon directly above me could not see me move. I looked back at the billionaire bachelor mouthing “run”. He nodded, crawling on all fours into the open kitchen door before getting up to his feet and running. I noticed that some of the other hostages had watched the wealthy man run into the kitchen.

I held a hand out to stop them. I motioned for them to slow down and to crawl on all fours, slowly. Carefully, more and more people were escaping through the kitchen doors.

“Hey!” a goon shouted, spouting a spray of bullets my way. I ducked, covering a wealthy woman crawling before peaking over the top of the table to shoot the goon. The shot hit the man as he reloaded his weapon, causing him to fall from over the rail. I whirled around and shot the goon directly above me before he had a chance to shoot. He fell onto one of the round tables, his finger still on the trigger, causing a barrage of bullets toward Black Mask. People scattered in all directions, running for their lives to the nearest possible exit. Through the midst of all the chaos, the conductor of the entire thing locked eyes with me through his skull shaped masked.

He pointed directly at me and ordered his men to open fire.

“Shit!” I sprinted to the nearest cover, which for me was under one of the round tables. In doing so, I dropped my pistol. I was quickly pulled out by my foot, revealing a goon who was very angry with my recent actions. I used my free leg to kick him in the face, allowing me to get to my feet. I punched the man in the gut several times before kneeing him in the skull. As soon as the man was down, another tackled me. I rolled, making sure the man rolled past me in order for me to get him off of me. He swung his leg, swiping mine out from under me, making me fall on my ass. I shoved my foot in his face several times, but he grabbed my ankle and twisted it, making me shout in pain. I grabbed a champagne flute and threw it at him. As he recoiled in agony from the alcohol burning his eyes, I handcuffed him to the table before knocking him out.

I stood up gingerly, making sure that no one else was around. The crowd was still running around, but there were far less of them than before, which was relieving that they had gotten out safe. I reached under the table to grab my pistol before peaking over the table once more. Just I peeked my head over, a man fell onto the table I was hiding under. I yelped in fright, backing away from the unconscious man frantically. I looked up from the balcony from where he fell, spotting a familiar figure beating multiple goons to a pulp before shooting them at point blank range. Where he shot them I had no view of from the low vantage point I stood in.

“You never know when to stop do you?” Black Mask hollered at the Red Hood from just a few feet away.

“I’m sure women tell you that all the time!” Red shot back as he easily threw someone over the balcony a few feet away. I shot a few rounds toward Black Mask, causing the man to duck in fright. He shot back upright, easily spotting me before I ducked down behind a table.

“Nice of you to join us detective! I have to say, your reputation precedes you!” He shouted across the room, his personal guard spreading out on both of his flanks. This night just kept getting difficult for me. I held my pistol with an iron grip, my white knuckles were shaking in fear.

“Honestly, I’m surprised you’d show up to a place with class!” I hollered back, doing my best to keep my composure. I looked around for something, anything that could get me out of this mess. I made sure to stay under the height of the tables while I crawled to the nearest exit.

“Oh you wound me so!” he feigned hurt, placing a gloved hand over his chest.

“I think that you and I both know that this can’t go on forever, sweetheart. I’d hate to ruin that nice suit of yours.” his voice echoed through the room, which had now gone eerily silent.

“I dunno; I was just starting to enjoy this picnic,” I spoke, my sarcasm echoing throughout the room,

“I think we both know you’re outgunned little girl.”

“Well, you can’t blame me for trying.”

“As much as I enjoy the conversation; I’m afraid I’m gonna have to kill you now, darling.”

Just as I made a move to try and shoot him once more, maybe even my last shot in my lifetime; a figure tackled me from the side, causing the both of us to skid into the kitchen. I immediately recognized the red helmet of the man on top of me.

As the kitchen doors closed a violent spray of bullets echoed through the ballroom of the museum. Glass rained down from the small porthole in the steel door. He remained over me, shielding me from any glass shards or ricocheting projectiles. One of his gloved hands cradled the back of my head while the other held my waist against him. He lifted his head, leaving a small amount of room between us.

“You okay?” I could only nod my head.

“Find them!” Black Mask shouted from behind the door. Hood lifted himself off of me and began to barricade the entrance into the kitchen. I too got up and tried to help, although I was not as strong as he was. I stuck a measly chair under the doorknob, while he somehow dragged an entire shelf in front of the door, rendering my chair and efforts moot.

“C’mon, let’s get you out of here.” he took my hand as we raced out of the main room of the kitchen.

“I had him!” I tried to pry from his grip, even though it was futile.

“This isn’t up for debate, (Y/N)!” His voice sounded pressed.

“I don’t take orders from a murdering vigilante!” I shot back.

“Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder!”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“You asked for it, Jones.” he grumbled, swiftly turning heel. He wrapped his arms around my thighs, lifting me off the ground like I was paper. Just as he stood up I kneed him in the chin; not only causing him to drop me, but his helmet to fly off. I grabbed his helmet off the ground, chucking it at his head before running back toward the main ballroom.

As I entered the kitchen again. Three of Black Mask’s men had broken through the barricade. I skidded to a halt in order to stop myself from barreling into them.

“Boys.” I sized them up. I noticed next to me on the table was a cast iron pan. Since I was without a weapon I instinctively snatched, holding it like baseball bat.

One of the three men launched themselves at me. I swung with all the might I could possibly muster up. A loud pang echoed as I hit the man across the head, so hard that the pan broke off its handle. The goon fell to the tile floor, out cold. the other two men looked down at him, then me, and then each other. I wasn’t down to wait for them to form any sort of plan.

I beamed the handle at one goon’s head as I attacked the other. I kicked the left goon’s knee sideways, simultaneously elbowing him in the face. As he fell I smashed his head into the wall. The right goon, whom I had thrown the pan handle at put me in a chokehold. I planted my feet on the wall in front of me launching us into the table behind us. However, his hold did not waiver. I searched for anything that could get me out of the chokehold, as I was quickly losing oxygen. I tried to pry my hand in between my throat and his arm, but he caught on to what I was trying to do, grabbing my hand and pinning it behind his other arm.

I flung my legs up in the air, yanking myself onto the ground; taking the goon with me. I flipped the man over me, grabbing whatever strewn object I could get my hands on and throwing it at him. That object happened to be a plate this time around. It shattered upon impact, but the man remained undeterred. He easily got back up to his feet, grabbing me by my hair.

“You’ll pay for that you little bitch.”

“Yeah; well fuck you too.” I spat back.

I punched him in the throat, making him gasp for air. I grabbed the back of his head and sent it directly into the metallic table behind me; instantly knocking him out.

I panted, surveying the damage I had caused. My throat burned from the chokehold, and the adrenaline was beginning to wear off. My side still hurt from all of the exertion I had endured the whole night. I was actually proud of myself for not getting killed, and everyone getting out safely.

That was, until I felt a pressure behind my back. That and the cocking of a gun.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you, detective.” Black Mask spoke from behind me.

“I’m surprised you would get your hands dirty.” I shot back at him, only for him to shove the pistol further on my back.

“Maybe I’m getting tired of you playing hard to get.” He said with a sinister tone.

“You touch her one more time; I will make you wish you weren’t born.” Red hood, (with his helmet back on), appeared from the side, brandishing his own weapon toward the masked leader of an organized crime ring. Black Mask yanked me against him, moving the pistol from my back to my head.

“Wow; had no idea you had a possessive streak in ya, Red.” Mask chuckled, finding the situation amusing.

“She’s not involved in this,” Red was radiating anger, clear as day.

“Really? The police detective tasked with arresting me is not involved? What kind of horseshit are you selling me Hood?”

“This is between you and me! Now; let. Her. Go!” He pulled out his second pistol, only causing Black Mask to nudge the pistol harder against the side of my head.

“I dunno, I’m starting to see why you like her.” the man retorted, flicking the safety off. He placed his free arm around my stomach, drawing circles over it. I cringed at the touch, trying deperately to get out of his grip. Hood growled form underneath the helmet, his grip hardening upon the pistols. There was a tension as thick as ice throughout the room. No one dared to move; or breathe for that matter. I was quivering inside, but I was not about to neither Black Mask or Red know that. Then a very stupid idea came to mind.

An extremely stupid idea.

I threw my head back at Black mask, head-butting him as I hard as I possibly could. I heard a distinct crack, most likely from the mask itself. The man yelped in pain, clutching his face as blood poured out from beneath the black mask. I ducked down to let Hood shoot several rounds, one hit the sprinkler system causing water to spray everywhere. He threw a smoke bomb on the ground and grabbed my arm, yanking me up to my feet.

This time he actually threw me over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” I battered his back, but he kept running. His silence is what scared me most. I tried my best to pry out of his grip, but his arm was firmly across the back of my where my thighs met my ass. He easily ascended the stairwell two steps at a time.

“Red, you can put me down now,” I said, worry lacing through my voice. He remained silent. I couldn’t tell his expression under the bright tomato colored helmet of his but I doubt it was a pleasant one. We reached the rooftop of the museum, and one could easily here the police sirens from the street down below. Red set me down gently on my feet before he slammed the metal door so hard I felt the echo.

“Red?”

“Are you alright?” he cupped my cheeks, surveying if I had attained any wounds.

“I-I’m fine, Red,” I said to him, taking his hands within my own. He stared at me through his helmet before backing away. He began pacing running his hands over his helmet as if it was supposed to be his hair.

“Red?”

“Are you insane!” his voice boomed, making me back away a few steps. He yanked his helmet off of his head, revealing his angered expression paired with the domino mask.

“Do you realize you could have gotten yourself killed?! You’d think it would be you to realize that you can’t throw your life away!”

“You’re one to talk! I was doing my job! This isn’t a hobby for me, Red. It’s my duty to make sure people are safe, and if it costs me my life; then so be it!”

“You have people who care about you! What do you think will happen when they find out you aren’t coming home!”

“Why the fuck do you care!?” I shouted before continuing.

“You’re the one who’s been killing people! You don’t think that the people you murder have people they care about? You have no right to explain to me on what I can and cannot do!” I angrily approached him, making sure to show that I was not afraid of him as I poked my finger in his chest. I looked him dead in the eyes. I could hear him seethe, his chest rising and falling in short breaths. He snatched my wrist in his iron grip, like a bear trap. I was useless to try to get out of it.

Thunder rumbled above in the night sky, an accurate analogy to our current situation. Hood sighed, the cold air causing his breath to steam, falling flush against my cheeks. His grip softened from its iron grip to a much gentler caress against the back of my hand.

“I’m tired of losing the people I care about.” He spoke softly, just above a whisper. His throat bobbed, contemplating if he should continue.

“I’ve lost people too, Red.” I said softly, taking his hand within my own this time.

He ducked his head down, taking a breath before looking back at me. His mask did a good job of disguising his expression but not by much. He looked as if he was pleading for me to either stop or for me to continue. I couldn’t think of anything else to possibly say, all I could do was caress his hand as he did mine.

The rain pelted the rooftop, soaking us to the bone.

“I’m sorry.” Red spoke, leaning his forehead upon my own; “I didn’t consider how you felt. I just wanted you to be safe, Laura.”

“Just don’t do it again okay, Red,” I said softly, allowing myself to indulge the moment, a small yet present smile falling upon my lips. It was as if we knew each other for a lifetime, like we have had the conversation a hundred times over. It felt like home.

I inhaled a deep breath upon this revelation, quickly removing myself from the moment.

“(Y/N)?” Red asked.

“You need to leave.” I said looking back toward the door. I checked my phone, seeing numerous texts and missed calls from both Jim and Babara.

“(Y/N)-,” he pleaded. I picked his helmet up and shoved it in his chest.

“If you want to keep this gig you need to go now.” I said firmly. He held the helmet in his hands, but his eyes were trained on me.

“This is the last time I do anything for you, understand? Next time we meet; I won’t hesitate to arrest you.” I gnawed my lip, it was more so for me to tell myself that than to threaten him. I rubbed my arms in a desperate attempt to keep warm. I watched as he walked up to me, hemlet in hand. He pursed his lips alomst contemplating his next move. He leaned down and pressed his lips upon my forehead. I leaned into the sensation, before checking myself back into reality again.

“Please, go,” I said sadly. Tears welling in my eyes.

“I’ll be in touch.” He put his helmet on running over to the ledge of the building.

“No you won’t.” I said under my breath.

————————————————————————

[creepykingdom]

Warner Bros. Studio Tour Hollywood Announces Full Slate of Haunted Attractions for Horror Made Here: A Festival of Frights

Warner Bros. Studio Tour Hollywood (WBSTH) is expanding its already chilling Horror Made Here: A Festival of Frights with new attractions created to give horror fans a night to remember. In addition to the return of Pennywise in our reimagined It Knows What Scares You maze, and debut of the sinister institution from Batman: Arkham Asylum, this year’s Horror Made Here will also feature a blood-curdling maze from The Conjuring Universe, a diabolical viewing of The Exorcist, an eerie tour through Freddy vs. Jason’s Camp Crystal Lake, and much more.

In this year’s reinvented maze, guests will experience a sneak peek into the world of paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren as they confront a host of satanic spirits from The Conjuring Universe. Fans will fall victim to Annabelle’s devious games, and come face-to-face with the demon lurking in the shadows from New Line Cinema’s latest installment The Nun, in theaters September 7th, 2018.

Deep, dark woods conceal the ghastly presence of Freddy Krueger and Jason Voorhees, waiting to give visitors the worst nightmare of their lives. Aboard a Warner Bros.’ tour cart, guests must survive a cunning game of cat and mouse as they navigate through the infamous Camp Crystal Lake – and all of the horrors unveiled along the way. Brave campers will be left to their own devices to explore the campground, while those unlucky enough to face Freddy and Jason will suffer the gruesome fate they have in store for them.

In addition, those seeking even more supernatural thrills are in for a treat as Horror Made Here will present a special “forbidden screening” of the 1973 classic The Exorcist. Visitors who wish to encounter a truly demonic spirit will enter the safe haven of our backlot church and witness an evil beyond this world right from the pews.  In this 4D experience, guests will relive the most terrifying scenes from The Exorcist in an unholy viewing known to provoke demonic forces.

Horror Made Here will also offer a series of attractions and activities for horror loving fans, including:

Devil’s Drop Tower: Adventurous visitors will have the opportunity to take the 90-foot plunge into the air for the scream of their life.

Stage 48: Script to Scream: Enter the world of Tim Burton and see authentic props and costumes from his iconic movies Sweeney Todd, The Corpse Bride, Mars Attacks! and for the first time ever on display at Warner Bros., original props from the Halloween classic, Beetlejuice.

Horror Makeup Demonstrations: Learn how makeup artists bring terrifying characters to life with our special Horror Made HereSFX makeup demonstrations throughout the night.

The Lost Boys Arcade: Play iconic games in the retro Lost Boys-themed arcade. Games include titles like Ms. Pac-Man, Tetris, Mario Bros, Space Invaders and Terminator 2 Pinball.

Horror Made Here Night Tour: Board a quick nighttime tour through the Warner Bros.’ backlot for a guided exploration behind-the-scenes of beloved titles in horror entertainment, including iconic filming locations like New York Street, where House of Waxwas shot.

Additionally, Horror Made Here will feature carnival games, live entertainment, a “Little Shop of Horrors” where guests can purchase Halloween and Horror Made Here merchandise, plus fun food and beverage options, including the goth-punk Fangtasia Bar featured in the HBO series True Blood, serving regular drinks for humans and “Tru-Blood” for vampires.

“We are thrilled to announce our expanded line-up for Horror Made Here. At Warner Bros., we are committed to delivering not just a scary experience, but one that’s unforgettably unique to its setting on the legendary backlot where some of horror’s most iconic films were brought to life,” said Gary Soloff, Director of Marketing, WBSTH. “This year, our extended nights and hours will give guests the opportunity to relive some of their favorite moments in horror while also enjoying our creepy carnival filled with more entertainment and plenty of food and drinks.”

Horror Made Here will begin on October 5, 2018, allowing fans to face their biggest fears for 13 nights. Tickets are on sale now, starting from $59 per person at horrormadehere.com.

For a premium experience, join “The Losers’ Club” for the night to enjoy front-of-line access to each maze, two complimentary beverages, one free IT photo-op, and free priority parking.

###

About Warner Bros. Studio Tour Hollywood

Warner Bros. Studio Tour Hollywood gets you closer to the entertainment you love.  As a recipient of Trip Advisor’s Travelers’ Choice Awards and recognized as one of the Top 25 Attractions in the United States, the Studio Tour gives guests a revealing look behind the camera at how Hollywood magic is made. From Friends and The Big Bang Theory to Harry Potter and Wonder Woman, fans get to see the real sets and soundstages where the greatest names in entertainment made history as they touch, tour and explore the iconic 110-acre studio lot.

Warner Bros. Studio Tour Hollywood is open daily from 8:30AM to 4:00PM, with tours departing every 30 minutes and extended hours offered during the summer, spring break and winter holiday seasons. Advanced bookings are strongly recommended, and children eight years or older are welcome.  For the best value, book your tickets online at www.wbstudiotour.com or by calling 818-977-TOUR (8687).

Horror Made Here: A Festival of Frights is a special ticketed event, held on October 5-6, October 12-14, October 18-21 and October 25-28, open from 7PM to 1AM. The event ticket includes access to the festival, all scare mazes and the night tour. Limited capacity per night, purchase early to guarantee your ticket. Visit horrormadehere.com for more information.

[topbeautifulwomens]

#Melissa #Coates #Biography #Photos #Wallpapers #fashionmodel #acting #artoftheday #eyes #hiphophead #housemusic #inspiration #paris #pretty #tbt

A former junior Canadian tennis champion, Coates 1st began training with weights to help with her tennis performance which subsequently led to her interest in bodybuilding. During her time as a bodybuilder, Coates was once ranked ninth in both powerlifting and bodybuilding and even made it into the Ms. Olympia top 10 on twice before retiring from both sports in 1999. Coates then began working as a model and continues to do so while not wrestling.

Coates first became interested in wrestling during the Hulk Hogan, Randy Savage and Miss Elizabeth saga in the late 1980s. After training at both Killer Kowalski’s training school and Ultimate Pro Wrestling’s Ultimate University, Coates moved down to Louisville, Kentucky to begin training in Ohio Valley Wrestling. Coates then made an appearance at Backlash and took part in Chris Masters’ “Masterlock Challenge” segment, which offered $3000 to anyone who could break Masters’ Master Lock hold. Coates failed to win the Challenge, but was impressive enough to be signed to a developmental contract with World Wrestling Entertainment. She was then placed in OVW as an official trainee and became the “head of security” for Kenny Bolin’s stable “Bolin’s Services”. Soon after however, Coates left both OVW and WWE and went to work for World Xtreme Wrestling.

After having only one match in wXw, where she defeated Krissy Vaine, Coates returned to Ohio Valley Wrestling (while not under a WWE developmental contract) and she before long began facing off with a lot of of the OVW/WWE’s divas, including Beth Phoenix, Mickie James, Melina Perez, and Jillian Hall before becoming the bodyguard for the latter. After training in OVW, Coates was then assigned to Deep South Wrestling and she debuted for the territory as (The) Bag Lady, a homeless woman who became the love interest and eventually the manager of The Freakin’ Deacon. On February 22, 2007, the Bag Lady debuted a brand clean “WWE Diva” seem and then defeated Angel Williams in their subsequent match. The Bag Lady then began feuding with both Krissy Vaine and Angel Williams before leaving DSW to wrestle on the independent circuit.

In her first appearances on the indy circuit after leaving DSW, Coates made her debut for Georgia’s Great Championship Wrestling on May 29 and won the NWA/GCW Women’s Championship from former World Championship Wrestling star Daffney Unger. Coates continued to remain champion until the title was seemingly forgotten and thus deactivated in late 2007. Coates also made several appearances for other Georgia-based wrestling promotions in both a wrestling and non-wrestling role. On July 7, she made her debut for NWA Anarchy as a heel, challenging and defeating several male wrestlers in intergender matches. At NWA Anarchy’s Fright Night event, Coates teamed up with former fellow DSW wrestler Tony Santarelli to defeat Todd Sexton and referee Wes Grissom, the latter of whom Coates was feuding with. On December 15, Coates began an angle with Don Williams after Coates attacked Williams and his tag team partner Brodie Chase. All three were then entered into an Anarchy Battle Royal to determine the number one contender for the NWA Anarchy Television Championship, but both Coates and Williams were simultaneously eliminated and Williams began showing smitten affection in the direction of her. On December 29, Williams publicly declared his affection towards Melissa, going as far as to say “I’m smitten like a kitten” before Coates struck him with a forearm smash to the jaw. However, Williams continued his tirade by saying “That’s what I love the most about you. It truly is the foreplay.” The angle between the two continued until Williams’ tag team partner Brodie Chase revealed that he and Coates were together, effectively turning Chase heel. On May 31, 2008, Chase defeated Williams while Coates supported Chase at ringside. Coates also made an appearance for Women’s Extreme Wrestling’s 2007 event Payback’s A Bitch, where she saw stage against Amber O’Neal and did a run-in during a U.S.A. vs. Canada segment in the ring as a supporter of Canada, which was done after her match with O’Neal. She joined up with TNA star Jaime D (Sirelda on TNA), in a team of four rebel Canadians.

In April 2008, Melissa began a managerial role under the name Mile Large Melissa, a flight attendant gimmick. However, when wrestling, she continues to use her real name. She was soon joined by “Captain” Mike Flyte and the pair became known as The Flight Crew and in July 2008, they were joined by “Captain” Jason Static. The stable primarily competes in the Northern United States and Canadian independent circuits. A few months later, Static was taken out of the group.

Name Melissa Coates Height 5'5 Naionality Canadian Date of Birth June 18, 1969 Place of Birth Thunder Bay, Ontario, Canada Famous for

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