#typical jason things.

[necrotic-nephilim]

"I think you need a little something to remind you of who you belong to." - JayTim

send a quote and a ship and I'll write a short fic!

god this one is so good. this idea just. sat in my brain goo for days until i had the time to write it. this takes place like. right around Search For A Hero and before Battle for the Cowl, i would say, with dead Bruce and all, but before Red Robin. very fucked up one-sided feelings bc Jason is Jason and i love him. it's like 3.6k words and my partner edited it for me so. enjoy <3

It took Tim longer than it should’ve to notice the change.

With Bruce gone, Gotham was in upheaval.

No matter how much Tim did, there was always more. A new villain to fight, a new gang to take down, a new murder to solve. Gotham knew that the Batman was gone, for good this time.

Which meant they knew someone, something, could kill Batman.

That made Tim the fresh meat to go after. If the Batman could be killed, it shouldn’t be any harder to take down his Robin. Tim knew that every villain would want a piece of him and he had to prove himself. And for a while, he did. Tim was personally targeted by rogues, ready to be the Joker to his Robin.

Then it changed.

No one was pulling their punches, necessarily. But there was a change. Gangs that once had no problem facing Tim down were running in the opposite direction. Rogues gave up too easily, with an amount of fear in their eyes that didn’t quite match Tim’s reputation.

He should’ve noticed it sooner.

Tim knew something was wrong, at least. But he’d been so slow to notice it; now he was scrambling for answers. He’d interrogated half a dozen thugs and none of them gave him anything. Tim used every trick Bruce had taught him and still. He had nothing. It was just confirmation that they were hiding something. He was missing something, and he had nothing to show for it.

It reminded Tim of how the tide receded right before a tsunami- a quiet, deadly calm rolled over Gotham.

Someone was pulling strings. Someone was going right over Tim’s head, probably planning a big attack to sweep Tim undertow to drown in the chaos. And Tim didn’t have a single lead.

Waiting was always the worst part.

And still, the fires in Gotham burned. Whatever was going on kept getting pushed to the back burner so Tim could stop everything from human trafficking rings to street muggings. He knew he was stretched too thin, too exhausted to hold himself up.

It was a matter of time before Tim got pulled into a merciless riptide.

He just didn’t expect it to be in some grimy alley, losing a fight to a second-rate mob that jumped him.

Tim should’ve gone back to the Batcave when his shoulder got dislocated an hour ago by Harley Quinn instead of just setting it and carrying on.

He should’ve called for backup an hour before that, when he had to face all the Gotham Sirens on his own, leading to the chase with Harley in the first place.

And he definitely should’ve stayed home from patrol altogether, with ribs that were still cracked from a run-in with Solomon Grundy less than a week ago.

But Tim didn’t do any of that. Because if he was going to carry on any part of Bruce’s legacy, it was this: fighting until his body gave out under him.

Tim just hoped if this mob killed him, they wouldn’t dump his body somewhere embarrassing.

Though it was starting to look less like if, and more like when. Tim didn’t like to be pessimistic in a fight. There was always something more to do, one final trick to pull out of his arsenal. Just like Bruce taught him.

This time, though. Tim wasn’t so sure about that.

There was blood in his mouth. Blood in his eyes. He could barely stand, let alone hold his bo staff. It took every ounce of worn-out effort to block the endless blows raining down on his battered body, let alone try to punch back.

Tim always figured he’d meet a violent end.

He wasn’t sure where his comm link had skittered off to. It got knocked out of his ear under a particularly vicious blow to the head, cutting Tim off from any hope of backup. He was in this one alone.

Someone kneed Tim in his already brutalized ribs. He doubled over and groaned, falling to the ground.

He needed to get back up.

Tim’s arms were too shaky to support his weight. He just collapsed again. A steel-toed boot was raised above his head, ready to come down. Tim just closed his eyes and covered his head as best he could with his hands. Better broken fingers than a broken skull.

The boot never connected.

Instead, Tim heard gunfire.

He knew some of the men had guns, but this was a different kind of gunfire. The automatic kind, coming from a different direction. All Tim could do was watch with wide eyes as his attackers started to drop like flies tinged with red.

The ones who managed to survive the first volley of bullets were scrambling around, yelling at each other in a foreign language. Russian, maybe? It was hard for Tim to tell with his head swimming from blood loss, eardrums pulsing to the infernal beat.

From the darkness, a figure jumped down, landing in front of Tim, holding an automatic rifle over their shoulder. Tim blinked hard, trying to make out who it was.

“I only gave you miserable fucks one rule,” a cold voice growled. “Who wants to remind me what it was?”

Damnit. Tim knew that voice.

He was beyond screwed.

All the men froze. Stuttered apologies and pleas came out of half of them, messy and incoherent. They all sounded positively terrified, cowering in front of the figure.

“We didn’t know it was-”

“-just wanted to scare him-”

“He came to our territory first-”

“-but we weren’t going to kill him-”

Jason Todd fired a few shots into the sky, silencing all of them. Tim swallowed a mouthful of blood, his own heart reverberating against copper-stained teeth.

“I asked what the rule was,” Jason repeated slowly. He cracked his neck and pulled a knife off his belt, flipping it around for show.

One of the men was brave enough to step forward. “No one’s allowed to touch Robin. Sir.”

Tim’s breath caught in his throat.

What the hell?

Jason nodded slowly. “And last I checked-” he made a show of turning back to look at Tim. Under the helmet, Tim couldn’t begin to guess Jason’s intentions. “-there’s only one kid with a big R on his chest fighting with a bo staff. I was being pretty generous with all of you. Protection from the cops, from other gangs. All for one fucking rule.”

“Why are you protecting him, anyway? Vigilante freaks cause us nothing but problems-”

The man’s yelling was abruptly cut off by the bang of Jason’s gun and his brains splattering across the alleyway. A smear of pink landed on his bo staff; there was no coming back from that one.

“I guess I should’ve had two rules. No touching Robin and no asking questions,” Jason hummed lazily, as if he hadn’t just taken a man’s life. He shrugged. “I’ll add it to the tab.” He reloaded the gun.

Tim grabbed Jason’s ankle. “Don’t…” he coughed up a mouthful of blood, “don’t kill them.” It was pathetic. He could hold his own in a fight against Jason. He had before. But now, Tim couldn’t even stand and was left with barely enough strength to even grab Jason.

Like shooing away an insolent child, Jason pulled his leg free and clicked his tongue at Tim. “I’ll get to you in a second. Wait your turn.”

Then, he let loose. And there was nothing Tim could do but watch in horror.

Jason tore through every single one of the men like paper. their bodies dropped one by one because instead of the gun, Jason jumped in with his knife. For the fun of the fight, Tim guessed. Because it definitely sounded like Jason was enjoying himself, flipping through the crowd and throwing out a vile quip now and then.

In seconds, it was over. A pile of bodies with Jason as the indisputable victor, wiping his bloody knife off on his jacket. He walked over to Tim, perfectly casual.

Maybe he was saving Tim for the finale, to be killed by Jason’s own hand around his neck. That was the only reason Tim could think of for Jason being the reason rogues had pulled back so much over the past few weeks. Jason wanted Tim’s blood for himself, so he could make some kind of statement out of killing Robin. Or something like that, anyway.

“Up we go,” Jason said with a grunt, leaning over to Tim up like a sack of potatoes. Tim was hauled up with Jason’s hands under his armpits, then tossed over Jason’s shoulder, with an arm supporting him around his thighs.

At least the dead bodies couldn’t judge Tim for how utterly embarrassing he must’ve looked.

“Put me down,” Tim tried to say, but the words were so slurred they sounded like one long syllable. His head was spinning. Tim had heard of double vision, but never triple. Was that a bad sign??

“It’s pronounced thank you, actually,” Jason said, walking off with Tim in tow. Each step made all of Tim’s injuries feel far worse and he hissed, uselessly trying to claw at Jason’s back, the material of his gloves squeaking pathetically. “As in, thank you for saving my sorry ass, Red Hood.”

“Fuck you,” Tim sputtered. He was getting blood all over Jason’s jacket and it was the only thing he could see, as his vision got more tunneled by the second. “Where are you…” everything hurt and consciousness was slipping away from Tim.

Jason said something. Tim didn’t hear it. His hands went slack, followed by the rest of Tim’s body.

His last coherent thought was a long string of expletives cursing Jason Todd out.

It took over a liter of blood to stabilize Tim. Stitches on his arm, stomach, and forehead littered his battered body. He was still unconscious on Jason’s coffee table, with a makeshift IV drip giving him fluids, stripped down to his boxers.

Jason was torn between being supremely pissed off at Tim getting jumped and being sickly fascinated by the sight of Tim being bruised and bloody. Perfectly laid out for Jason.

Maybe he should’ve thanked that Russian mob before killing them.

Jason knew it was just a matter of time before that mob caused him issues. They were no real loss to his empire. He was lucky he caught them in the act before it was too late.

One simple rule and some idiots went out of their way to ignore it.

Tim was Jason’s meat and no one else’s. Jason hadn’t been ready to mark his territory yet. This sped up his plan. There were so many steps Jason had to skip to save Tim. He had been waiting for Gotham’s trust in Robin to grow secure and rooted down, putting Tim on top of the world. Then a new Batman would step up, probably Dick. It’d leave Tim aimless and vulnerable, quickly forgotten by his city the moment they had someone in a Batsuit to worship instead.

And that was supposed to be the moment Jason swooped in and claimed Tim. Protecting him from all the big mean supervillains who were salivating for Tim’s blood that Jason had been holding back for so long.

He would be Tim’s fucking savior.

But a no-name Russian mob had to go and screw it up. Leaving Jason sitting on his couch, feet propped up on the same coffee table Tim was sprawled out on. Every now and then Jason nudged Tim with his boot, just to check how out cold he really was.

The latest boot nudge to Tim’s hip actually got him to stir.

Tim groaned, trying to move. His attempt to sit up failed pretty spectacularly. His arm gave out and he slipped, head loudly bonking on the coffee table. With the concussion he definitely had, that had to hurt like hell. Jason smirked, lighting a cigarette. Another pretty groan out of Tim’s mouth before he managed to open his eyes, blinking hard to adjust to his surroundings.

Jason didn’t rush him. He just watched as Tim looked around the safehouse, craning his neck. He ran his hands over his body, feeling the neat bandage work. Finally, his eyes settled on Jason, widening slightly. Jason could see the wheels turning in Tim’s bright mind, remembering what had happened.

Tim opened and closed his mouth a few times, presumably trying to decide where to start. Jason took a long drag and blew the smoke in the direction of Tim’s face, making him cough.

“Why?” Tim finally said. His voice sounded a little raw.

Jason arched an eyebrow, playing innocent. “Why what?”

“You know what,” Tim snapped. He gestured to himself. “Why are you… doing this? Telling everyone I’m off limits and…”

“And saving you?” Jason finished, earning him a lethal glare. About as lethal as a kicked puppy could be, anyway. Jason snorted and shrugged. “Because I can.” No point in sharing a plan that was all fucked up.

“I don’t need your help,” Tim said through gritted teeth. He tried to sit up, slower this time. He still didn’t manage it.

Jason stared at him. “I’m sorry, would you have preferred Nightwing scrap what was left of you off the pavement after those asshats were through with you?”

“I can fight my own battles.”

“And lose them too. Clearly.”

An angry noise came out of Tim’s throat. “Did you just want to save me for yourself, or something?” Tim prodded, fist clenched at his side.

“Probably not in the way you’re thinking,” Jason said. He flicked ashes off of his cigarette onto Tim’s skin, pulling a hiss out of him.

Tim frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Figure it out yourself. Isn’t detective work your whole thing?” Jason made a show of adjusting how he was sitting on the couch as if he was getting comfortable. He moved to prop his feet up on Tim’s leg, one of the few places on his body that wasn’t covered in injuries. Using him like a little footstool.

Oh, that really pissed Tim off. Jason grinned wickedly, watching Tim try and fail to pull himself free. There wasn’t much weight on his leg, but he was still too weak to get his body to cooperate, leaving him to sluggishly struggle.

Tim’s face twisted. “If you think you could convince me to be your sidekick, you’re out of your mind.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a lap dog, actually,” Jason tilted his head back. “Much more submissive and obedient, that way.” He didn’t hide the obvious innuendo in his voice.

Tim recoiled. “Very funny.”

“I’m dead serious,” Jason shot back. “I don’t kill for just anyone.” Contrary to popular belief, murder was purposeful, with Jason. If he killed a lot of people, it was for a specific reason. It was a careful image of the unstable madman to make people fear him. But in reality, it was all planned. Every single body in the grave was carefully counted.

“You’re psychotic if you think I’d ever… submit to you.” Tim’s mouth twisted just having to say the words, utterly disgusted by them.

Jason scoffed. “I think there’s a misunderstanding here, Drake.” He pulled a butterfly knife out of his pocket, flipping it open. “You already belong to me. Every criminal in Gotham knows you’re mine. You’re alive because I’ve allowed it. You’re protected because I called for it. It’s a done fucking deal.” He took his feet off of Tim’s leg and brought them to the floor so he could lean up close to Tim’s pale face. “Understood?”

Like a perfectly rational person, Tim tried to headbutt Jason.

Jason pulled back, more for Tim’s sake than his own. He caught Tim’s head with his hand, forcing it back down on the table.

“I didn’t ask for your protection,” Tim hissed, breathing hard. “You can go to hell, Jason. I can handle this city just fine on my own.”

“I don’t really care if you can or not.” Jason pressed the knife to Tim’s throat, a dangerous warning against any more stupid attempts to fight Jason. “You can be Robin all you want. You can crawl back home to that disgusting cave and play house with all the other bats. I don’t give a shit how you live your life, Drake. So long as you know you’re mine at the end of the day-” he shrugged- “we can take all this slow. I was planning to anyway.”

“You were planning to…” Tim echoed, turning the words over as it sank in for him. “You were planning… what? To make me fall in love with you or something?”

Jason gave another nonchalant shrug. “If that’s how you want to dumb it down, sure.” The plan was far more sophisticated than that. Jason didn’t just need Tim to love him. He needed Tim to crave Jason, need him down to the marrow, and dedicate himself wholly to Jason. Be by Jason’s side as a strategist and partner.

They would get there eventually. Soon Tim would see and understand things from Jason’s perspective. His approach just needed to be a little more head-on.

More fun for Jason in the long run.

It was hard to read Tim’s expression. Maybe Jason was too hopeful to believe there could be some kind of arousal or intrigue there, but he could at least tell there wasn’t nearly as much anger as he expected.

Nor was there any disgust.

For a split second, anyway. Then Tim seemed to snap back to reality, trying to pull away from Jason and the knife.

“Over my dead body,” Tim said with as much venom as it seemed like he could muster.

“You know, I’ll do you a favor, Drake.” Jason lifted one leg over the table so he could sit on Tim’s midsection, making him yell in pain. Jason was a heavy son of a bitch, and his body weight did no favor for Tim’s sore ribs.

“What the hell are you doing?” Tim tried to shove Jason’s chest. He looked a little panicked, like a caged animal.

“I think,” Jason dragged out the words, just for show, “you need a little something to remind you of who you belong to. So I’ll be nice, to make sure you don’t forget it.”

He grabbed Tim’s jaw and jerked his head to the side. Tim cried out and tried to get away. He hit Jason in the chest as hard as he could. Which given his current state, was about the same as being smacked by a toddler.

“You should probably stay still if you don’t want a knife in your eye,” Jason warned. He lifted the blade and pressed it into Tim’s cheek, going deep enough to scar.

He didn’t even have to think about it. Jason knew exactly what he was doing the moment he pressed the blade to Tim’s skin.

A mark that anyone would recognize.

A mark just like the one Jason had been given, years ago.

The letter J could stand for a lot of things. And right now, it stood for marking Tim as Jason’s territory.

Jason dragged the knife down and curled it upward. Then he went in for the second cut, dragging across Tim’s cheek.

Tim had the sense to stay perfectly still while the blade moved. Pained noises came out of his throat and he was giving Jason a death stare, but he stayed still.

A perfectly obedient lap dog.

Jason hummed in satisfaction when his work was done. He flicked the knife closed and slipped it back into his belt, watching fresh blood pour down Tim’s face.

Now they matched.

For good measure, Jason bent over and pressed a kiss against the cut, holding his lips there and feeling Tim’s breath on his skin.

Jason pulled away, licking the blood off his mouth. His first time tasting Tim. It definitely wouldn’t be the last.

“I’m going to kill you,” Tim bit the words out through grit teeth.

Jason just smiled. “Don’t you have pesky bat morals about that?” He climbed off Tim, flicking more ashes onto Tim’s skin from the cigarette that had stayed between Jason’s fingers the whole time. He lifted it to his lips, breathing in. “Your suit is over there.” Jason gestured vaguely to the heaped pile of Tim’s suit.

“You’re-” Tim sputtered on his words. “You’re just going to let me leave?”

“I told you,” Jason hummed, wandering toward his fridge, “you can go live your life. I don’t care. You’ll crawl back to me when I want you to.”

“Like hell.” A loud grunt came from Tim and Jason looked over his shoulder, watching Tim slowly move. Every inch looked painful for Tim, but slowly, he managed to get his stiff joints to obey him.

All while Jason watched, offering absolutely no help.

Tim got dressed with a lot of swearing and groans of pain, occasionally shooting Jason a dirty look. He put a small bandage on his cheek, then limped away, leaving behind the shreds of his dignity.

Jason just smiled, finishing his cigarette and stubbing it out on the floor with his heel.

Tim would be back. He would make damn sure of it.

[superbat-lmao]

Jason Todd gets blown up, resurrected, and after regaining his skills and control from Talia, goes back to Gotham and goes back to school. He leaves vigilantism entirely.

He’s taking literature and philosophy classes and just about anything to do with writing.

He makes friends, he’s on his way to normalcy.

And then he sees an opening for an opinion writer for the school newspaper.

Clark Kent gets sent the same newspaper article to read in both his civilian and superhero personas. If that’s not concerning, he doesn’t know what it.

It’s an opinion article on the state of vigilantism and hero work by a student in the next town over. And it’s a problem.

Because it’s good, too good. It feels like someone had sat in the watchtower during those first few months where everyone had been trying to work out how to function with so many different stances on morality and ethics. Should any of them really be doing this? What were the lines they couldn’t cross? If we’re working outside the law, what moral credibility do we have otherwise to justify our actions?

And sure, Clark’s written more than a few pieces criticizing Superman, but there’s a point to that. He has his own reasons. This kid, well, Clark isn’t sure of their reasons exactly. Because his gut reaction is thinking this kid is just making heroes and vigilantes look bad.

And there’s a reason that all of his and Bruce’s debates on ethics happen behind closed doors. Because to be self critical is to try and prevent hubris, but to allow public criticism at this level is to lose the faith of the public.

So Clark is torn. Because if he responds, he gives credibility to what could remain a largely unknown article. And if he doesn’t, he can’t control the reaction of other people start responding to it.

He’ll have to talk to Bruce.

[kittykatninja321]

controversially I do think that the under the red hood comic ending is a solid answer to “how do you get Batman to kill someone without breaking him as a character”

[jasontoddenthusiastt]

Why are people who look at comic books from a “critical real-world lens” so obsessed with identifying the one person who is “100% right”. That doesn’t even exist in the real world.

Lost Days wasn’t made to protest global issues. It is a comic book exploring fictional character Jason’s mental journey after being resurrected and regaining consciousness against his will and/or power. Now how dare this character, in his own story where he has his own personal objective, not go out of his way to make sure each individual child from the collective hundreds he saved from traffickers and the likes gets adopted into nice homes. Obviously we have to disregard any good he did or that he cares at all because all he did was kill the fucker at the top who was responsible. Winick also never fleshed out all 42 of the trafficked children into nuanced characters with their own thoughts and feelings which was apparently neglectful lol.

In regards to utrh, Idk what this person read but there were more drug dealers Jason didn’t kill than those he did. Not once did he ever say he wanted to eliminate the flow of drugs in the community. He took over the trade. Not to mention he explicitly stated control vs elimination is where his goals differed from Bruce’s pipe dream hence why he’s successful and Bruce is still failing. Obviously if you completely misunderstand the character’s motivations you’ll find issues that don’t exist.

People just don’t want stories to be about what they are about, huh.

[neanderthyall]

Finished rereading the lost hero and it was certainly a book. Its weird because it follows the riordan formula pretty well and yet i was so underwhelmed for the most part. Like Jason is afraid of letting people down but it doesnt really amount to anything. Leo is... like that. Piper cant stop being Not Like Other Girls and also dragging out the keeping the truth from her friends plot until the last possible second like... girl pls just tell them about ur dad

[luludeluluramblings]

One thing I always wonder in Neglected! Reader scenarios that I haven’t seen anyone explore is Married/Single Mom! Reader. It’s drama and angst potential.

Like Reader having a boyfriend and getting pregnant while still living in the Wayne manor, and everyone just takes a little too long to figure out. Maybe they do find out early with the morning sickness and whatnot but the thought of Bruce looking at Reader like 6 months pregnant and being like “Wait a minute… 🤨” and Reader wasn’t even trying to hide it that much.

And same scenario except Reader moved out either while pregnant or got pregnant after, Batfam forgets all about them and when fate does bring them together (like the Bruce/Selina wedding concept) she is literally about to pop or has a whole baby with her. Cue Bruce (and later everyone else) losing his shit because omg??? 😧 that’s his first grandchild and he had no idea!!

… And then if the Reader is married in this scenario, makes it all the more complicated (she didn’t invite anyone to her wedding? what do you mean Alfred attended when we had no idea?). Everyone is straight up hostile towards her spouse (Damian, Bruce and Jason are insufferable) and safe to say he won’t be around for long. Single mom Reader though, the amount of emotional manipulation about kids needing a family and father figures and you should move back in so everyone can help with the baby… Yeah.

Platonic!Yandere!Batfam x SugarBaby!Reader x Older!Husband

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N:OOOOO, I have something I was working on that I was having fun with that you might like!

A/N:Neglected!Reader with Older!Husband. (It's husband because it's based of that meme Your daughter calls me daddy, too. And, Reader is Female, because we're making a baby in here.)

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You, sweet thing, do the typical thing and run off from home, once you turn the legal age. Checking in with Alfred on occasion, but just living your best life. Only, in typical fashion, all those years of neglect lead to severe daddy issues. And, a minor itty bitty attraction to older men.

You get lucky though because you manage to find a fine one that loves to spoil his baby girl with vacations and spa days. All the best for his baby. He loves taking you places and showing you a good time. So, it's no wonder he plans a Babymoon for you when you're expecting your first child. Anything for you.

Unfortunately, Daddy gets called into work right before the vacation. And, despite you insisting you stay, he makes you go and promises to join you as soon as possible.

(No, the man isn't cheating. He just gotta make the money for his baby.)

You have a good time, pregnant on the beach. Getting massages and spa treatments. Video calling your husband every time the baby kicks and flutters.

Unfortunetly, even though you haven't used the Wayne name since you've been married, some drug lords recognize you and decide to ransom you. Dragging you back to Gotham in your little sundress the just so hides your baby bump.

Gotham media runs with the story. Lost Wayne heiress held hostage. No one is ignoring that.

The bat's pull off a daring rescue, but you being stubborn, try to escape on your own. Fearing for your baby's life if they just happen to chose not to come. They never came when you were little, why would they come now.

You happen to injure yourself while escaping. But, manage to make it to an on scene ambulance while the Bats take care of the thugs. You happen to faint on the way to the hospital, leaving the doctor's discover you pregnancy.

Already the media is surrounding the hospital for the most drama filled story of the year. Thankfully, the paramedics have some compassion in hide the bump when rolling you into the ER.

With the media's attention, your husband flies into Gotham and makes it to the hospital just in time to ask the nurse where you are in front of Bruce.

Bruce, of course, bristles when a man his age burst in the hospital demanding to see you, but is using the wrong last name. The nurse saying only family can see you.

"That's my daughter," Bruce will say. Assuming this man is trying to claim you as his. But, he already did.

Making Bruce, the family, the nurses, the patients, and the reporter who managed to sneak in freeze when he says, "That's my wife."

Imagine the doctor that just finished checking on you and your baby walking in right after announcing that you were both okay. The look on Bruce's face when he realizes that this man, his age, not only married you, but had the audacity to put a baby in you.

Even better, the smug way your husband looks at Bruce when he brushes past him to follow the nurse to your room because husband beats father and you demanded to see him.

The drama that follows is going to be legendary.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I had this idea jotted down and fluffed it up just for this. I'm not sure you wanna know who I had in mind for Reader's husband. (Dude is from another franchise.) But, the thought of him interacting with Bruce as the guy who married Bruce's daughter and knocked her up, delights me in such a visceral way.

[kibblbread]

Jason Todd likes to eat.

He can definitely go without food for prolonged periods, but he really loves food. Not to mention, with how big and strong he is, maintaining that physique takes a lot of calories. JT will prioritize quantity above just about anything though. If it’s cold that’s not preferable but he won’t complain. If it’s not the best quality he’d shrug it off. But not having enough to eat.. now he’s feeling downright miserable.

It brings him back to crime alley, back to after he rose from the dead with no one to turn to, back to a terribly depressed mental state. On rare occasions it’s even enough to make him cry in frustration.

Making time for himself seems like an insurmountable task more often than J would care to admit.

But since moving in, he hasn’t been hungry in a long time. Even on Jason’s busiest nights, there’s always food! You cook quite often and it takes a huge load off his shoulders. JT gets especially excited about new dishes since you typically rotate a couple of simple but hardy meals. Like super excited, lol. Upon arrival he can sniff out and pretty accurately guess what he’s eating that day. Sometimes you can’t be bothered and order take-out, after eating your fill, you stick it in the microwave for Jason to handle the rest. He’s happy either way.

Absolutely nothing tops snuggling into your chest after a good meal though. Not a damn thing. A full belly, kind lover, and warm bed is more than he could ever dream for.

[solelifauna]

Yandere Batfam & Neglected Reader Prt.1

When your late mother had a one-night stand with Gotham's richest man, you find yourself at odds and cast aside by your father and his wayward family. Yet, it's only when you find peace that it all comes crumbling down.

TW: Neglect, injury, violence, death

(Y'all, it gets worse in the next post)

To be adopted by Bruce Wayne was akin to a golden ticket; rare but life-changing. You had been one of those (un)lucky souls who just happened to catch the infamous Bruce Wayne's attention, but not how you’d typically expect. You see, you weren't just some random kid, no, you were the byproduct of a one-night stand between your mother and Brucie Wayne. Of course, you obviously didn't know, and your mother was more than content in keeping who your father was a secret. So for the first 11 years of your life, you lived in ignorance of who your father was. Not that it really bothered you; your mother’s love was more than enough, and as long as you had her you knew you’d be fine. 

Then of course, tragedy struck. Your mother was caught in the crossfire between two rival gangs, a stray bullet lodging itself in the side of her head. You don't know how long you spent crying, cradling her dead body, willing her to come back to life. It wasn’t until police and paramedics had to pull you off your mother, that you realized the gravity of your situation. Without your mother and no father, you’d no doubt be sent into one of Gotham City's many orphanages left to be trafficked and killed. Running away seemed like the best option until a positive paternal DNA match came in for one Bruce Wayne. To say you were dumbstruck is an understatement. Bruce Wayne was your father? The man known for adopting children and loving them as his own was your father? You were both relieved and delighted. You didn't know Bruce Wayne personally, but just seeing the way he treated his other children gave you hope, hope that you could heal with this man and finally know your father.

So when child services dropped you at the manor, a small suitcase in tow and a shy, nervous smile on your face only to be met with poorly hidden annoyance and contempt; to say you were heartbroken would be a disservice to yourself. It was easy to discern that your presence was not welcome and considered a hindrance. Bruce spoke to you disconnectedly, offering a quick apology on the loss of your mother before handing you off to the family butler, Alfred. At least Alfred had the decency to apologize on your father’s behalf, taking his time to talk to you and show you around the manor. You liked Alfred, he seemed kind. It wasn't long until you both ran into one of your other siblings, the eldest brother, Richard or Dick Grayson. He seemed the kindest out of the bunch on tv, so you were hopeful he'd have a different reaction compared to your father. 

Disappointment was your friend once more when Dick gave you a strained smile and conversed with you with fake interest. He left as soon as the opportunity arose. Your other siblings were no different; Jason was rarely ever at the manor and when he was, he certainly didn't bother even acknowledging you (not that you minded, he was scary when he was mad). Tim couldn't care less about your presence, finding annoyance when you’d go up to him and try to converse.

Cass or Cassandra talked to you here and there, never unkind, but you knew you were just an afterthought for her; Stephanie on the other hand initially interacted with you, asking you questions and occasionally sitting and talking to you. It was soon that you realized she was just bored and you were the newest “thing” in the manor. Her interest wore off a week later, her interactions with you now short and dry.

The family as a whole just seemed to disregard you and often stilted their conversation around you. You’d notice the dining room would be filled with laughter and loud talking until you'd walk in; silence would overtake the once lively place as everyone switched to hushed conversations. It’s as if everyone but you knew something you didn't, a big inside secret that bonded everyone together. It wasn’t until you accidentally discovered that Bruce Wayne was Batman and that the rest of your siblings had vigilante alter egos that everything made sense. This had to be why everyone left you out! It was because they had a secret identity to protect and you obviously couldn't know!

You thought that once they knew that you were aware of their nightly activities, things would change for the better, that you’d be included and accepted. If anything, your admission was the worst possible thing you could have done. At least before, some of them had pretended to interact or say something to you. But now that you knew their big secret, they no longer had a reason to maintain their forced fronts and pretend to care (even if it was barely caring). They had bigger, better, more important things to worry about than some random girl who popped up and wasn't even a vigilante. 

But ever the idiot, you still tried. You still craved their love and affection, going out of your way to take gymnastics to impress Dick or take coding classes to try and engage with Tim. You even tried talking to Jason about books, something Alfred had mentioned was dear to Jason. You tried sign language with Cass but she was never around long enough for it to matter. None of your attempts were successful. You didn't even bother trying with Bruce, you knew that the man wanted nothing to do with you. 

The straw that broke the camel's back for you was when your half-brother, Damian Wayne was introduced to the manor. You thought that he'd be met with the same coldness as you, and that you’d finally have someone who was in the same boat as you, someone who'd understand. Boy were you wrong. Damian was met with such a warmth it made your skin itch and your eyes teary. You wanted to throw up, this isn't fair, he doesn't even try and he gets their love and attention, yet here you were begging for scraps. Regardless, you thought that at least you could try again with Damian, he was technically blood-related to you after all. Yet when he pulled a knife on you and almost cut your throat, instead leaving a cut on your cheek down to your jaw, you could only stare at him in shock. 

You expected outrage and at least some sort of punishment for Damian, considering he had attacked you unprovoked and that you had no prior martial arts training, you were just a civilian. Dick only pulled you aside after Alfred had patched you up, you’ll never forget the words he said to you.

“(Y/n), what Damian did was a mistake. He’s had a rough childhood with some very bad people and it's not his fault he reacted this way. I know you're hurting, and I promise that this will be the first and last time this ever happens. Please, forgive him.” Dick said softly and mourningly.

You just let out a quiet “okay” not even focusing on Dick’s words, no, your main point of focus was the large, warm hand tenderly cradling your injured cheek. You didn't even realize how touch starved you really were, practically melting into his palm. You almost verbally protested when he retracted his hand as soon as you said “okay”. He was leaving.

“Thanks (Y/n), we really appreciate it. He's a good kid, I promise, he just needs some love and attention is all. I’ll come around to check on you soon, okay?” He said, moving away from you, obviously distracted.

You just “hmmed” in response. You knew he was lying, he would never come see you after this, and you were partly right. He came around the manor all the time now, but never for you, only for your attacker. Damian never did apologize for attacking you by the way. He just moved on, most likely realizing that you weren't a threat and were not worth his energy. 

Your cheek would still forever be scared though, not that anyone cared.

That's okay though, you honestly didn't want to talk to him anyway. The entire “Damian” incident was forgotten about quickly as the family bonded and had movie nights, patrols, and hangouts that you were not invited to. Well technically you were, but you realized that your presence just ruined the overall mood so you just decided that it was better if you just stayed away. It's fine, you did NOT need them. You had other people in your corner that actually cared so you were fine (not really).

Thankfully, you had convinced Bruce (not that he really cared) to let you stay at your old school and not transfer to Gotham Prep. So you got to keep your friends, the only people who understood your plight at the manor, the only people who cared; it was after this that you decided to stop caring as well. You weren't chosen by Bruce Wayne, you were forced upon him. Wayne Manor was not your home, just a stop along the way.

So, you made your peace.

Then, of course things changed, and now the bat family was starting to turn their interests on you. 

Catching attention in Gotham was never a good thing.

[timmydraker]

CW: use of R word

Tim who, as much as he doesn’t want it to be true, is a poster boy for typical Neurodivergence. He’s more logically thinking that emotionally and needs obvious signs of someone’s emotional state that he can put together to understand how he should respond to help them.

But that’s not what bothers him because that doesn’t bother his parents.

Instead it’s his passion, though not in technology and detective work as they quickly found use for that in their business, but for bugs.

Ever since he was a kid Tim has been enamoured by insects and arachnids and even fungi. He would only read books that talked about bugs or had one on the cover, but since it helped him learn to read at a steady pace his parents didn’t mind.

At least, not at first.

When Tim got into coding just so he could make his own little web-journal for all his bug finds, they were happy he was learning how to organise and structure at just six years old, but when he only did those things regarding bugs…

Tim had his first panic attack when he watched his father pick up his terrarium filled with Diapheromera Femorata (Stick bugs) and chucked it into the bin. The glass shattered as the corner his something hard and he was forced to watch his bugs struggle to navigate the glass and rubbish, most of them injured.

His mother had gagged when she saw them and demanded the whole bin be burnt with the bugs still inside.

Tim had been so heart broken, but mostly confused. His parents traveled the world to dig up dirt and old items that were mostly the same yet they didn’t like bugs?

When he asked one his Nanny’s she gave him an answer that he would never forget, “Well, you see… only those people like bugs, y’know? The… special ones, like re-“

Tim never even let himself think of the last word she spoke and from then only forced himself to only focus on his computer work. He still loved photography but now he took photos of skylines and trees, not the beautiful beehive a few yards behind his house or the spider webs that sat between branches like art works. He took photos of Batman and Robin and for a long time that was enough to make his longing bearable.

If he still followed several pages and articles about bugs either a secret email account, that didn’t matter.

His parents were happy with him even if they still made remarks about his ‘stupid little fixation’.

It’s when they are going over the paper work for Bruce to be Tim’s legal guardian while they weren’t home with Tim’s older brothers hanging around as moral support (bodyguards) that his parents mock him.

Janet is signing some paper with a stupidly expensive pen and chatting to no one in particular when she says, “You’re all lucky we killed this nasty little bugs of his so you don’t have to deal with them.”

Everyone else in the room freezes, beside Jack who huffs a laugh and adds, “Good thing we did, he’d probably be more of a retard otherwise- talking about ‘habitats’ and bloody spiders.”

All of the members of the Wayne family are dead quiet as Tim sits there with a clear look of disassociation coming into his eyes. Alfred has a calm look on his face that tells all who know him that he’s furious and Bruce is strikingly similar.

Jason looks ready to attack and Dick isn’t even moving to stop his brother or calm anyone down.

Damian is holding onto Titus’s collar like a lifeline but seems to give the hound some kind of silent order as the usually calm dog begins to growl low and dangerous.

Jack and Janet tense and stare at both dog and master, Jack ordering him to control his dog.

Bruce stands, letting Titus growl and taking the half signed papers and throwing them in the bin, “I changed my mind, I will be taking you to court for full custody of my son. Leave my house now so I may obtain a restraining order.”

Janet genuinely flounders for a moment and begins to shout about outrage and audacity but when Dick sees that Tim is starting to cry he stands up and reminds them that he is a cop before moving to pick up his second youngest brother and leaving the room.

Tim doesn’t hear much else, only muffled shouting and the sound of a door slamming.

He distantly realises he’s in the family room, not the one they use to have guest but the real one with beanbags and a snack draw, and is being cradled by his brothers. Even Damian is beside him, holding onto his hand tightly as they wait for Bruce and Alfred.

Tim sobs into Dicks chest for Alamos a whole hour before settling more, Bruce coming into the room and Jason and Dick reluctantly hand him over to he can be held by their father.

“Tim, chum, it’s alright. We’ve got you.”

The boy in question shakes his head, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t talk about the bugs I promise-“

Bruce squeezes him tighter and kisses his head, “I don’t want that. What I want is to hear about your bugs.”

Stunned, Tim looks up at him with confusion and barely gets his mouth to move enough to ask what he means.

Dick coos from beside him on the next couch and runs a hand through his hair lovingly, “My sweet baby brother we love you, and you love bugs! So of course we want to hear about it. I’m so sorry we didn’t know how they had been treating you but it was wrong. There’s nothing wrong with you, I swear it.”

Tim sniffled, nodding absentmindedly. They gave him a moment for their words to sink in before Damian spoke up, “Timothy, I demand you tell me about your bugs.”

Jason makes a noise and elbows Damian as if to tell him to shut up, probably thinking the other was being rude, but Tim knows his brother well and just smiles. “I can do that, Dami. I… I don’t think you’ll be very interested though.”

Damian scoffs, “I will ignore that statement as it implies I would waste my time with something I don’t care for.”

Bruce smiles at his youngest and holds Tim’s hand, “I agree. Could you maybe tell us about why you like them? Or your favourites?”

It takes him a moment to respond, but when he looks at all their open expressions and gets an encouraging nod from Alfred, he stutters out a response before gradually gaining confidence as they ask genuine questions to his facts and descriptions.

They each make an effort to ask him about bugs, Jason asking a few times if he wants to check out some books that he knows use bugs as symbolism’s and Dick asking if he can tell him the difference between insects and arachnids several times. Damian and Bruce are both a bit more subtle with their support at first, but after a month Tim enters his room to find a giant terrarium with several different sections so he can have multiple bugs that might not get along with each other.

Bruce and Alfred don’t even make any comments or give disapproving looks when Dick and Jason reveal they each got a tattoo of the bug that Tim said he associates with them.

[porcalinecunt]

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆!

🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩 dating two vigilante’s is already a mouthful, so much so, you’re not too shocked when you and jason give dick a little treat during his patrol ~♡

⋆˚࿔ FEATURING . . 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ JASON TODD & DICK GRAYSON X MALE! READER

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . cw — ftm!reader, open relationship [dick grayson], cuckholding, phone sex, facetime, masterbation, some degradation, cumshot, jason is a hoe and dick is a shameless cuck.

[・:。author’s note ! 「 ✉️ 」・𓂃 ࣪˖ went off the rails with this one ngl, was kicking my feet the whole time too (*ﾉωﾉ) if willing, i’ll make a pt 2 for yall <3

still nothing yet.

dick grayson sat on the edge of the Wayne Industries building, gazing upon Gothem from an eagle’s eye. seemed like the criminals he usually decends upon decided to take it easy tonight, barely making a peep besides the typical bar fights and runaway children rebelling against their parents.

but it didn’t bother him much, after all, his patrol was nearly over with bruce and cass already out ‘n about the streets. dick will finally go home, to you and his stubborn brother jason fuckin’ todd.

none of you had any clue how the things went so off the rails, starting when you suggested to your boyfriend that you wanted to try and open the relationship. dick, while hesitant at first, decided to give it a go. surprisingly, it went pretty smooth. dick went off seeing other people just like you were, yet always coming home to each other just like before.

until, someone decided to take his golden opportunity.

it wasn’t a secret that jason had the hots for you, always taking the chances to talk to you while dick couldn’t grab his attention for shit as the vigilante was too lost in his conversation with you. “dick’s a lucky one alright..” he’d say so shamelessly.

so lucky, jason hops on your ass the moment he got a hint of your open relationship. you didn’t even stop the man and niether did dick, as things quickly escalated between you and the red hood. tonight being no exception.

rinnggg! rinnggg! dick’s phone jingles to you calling to facetime him, he picks up expecting to see your pretty face greeting him. and he did!

“hey prin!—“ “oh..oh fuck!”

there you were, on your back with cum already splattered all over your stomach, you’re whole body rocking up whatever soft surface you laid on from the unseen stranger’s cock pistoning in and out of your soaked cunt.

“sorry big bro, couldn’t wait another—shit!—second for ya..”

jason’s voice rasped into the speaker, drowning out your moans. dick stared, jaw agape and pants tighter then he remembered. despite listening to your hookups, he never actually watched you get your back blown out by another man. a high pitched whine snapped him back into reality, now you’re staring right at the camara with teary eyes and swollen, wet lips.

“nghh..dick..p-pwease come home! need you to..”

another harsh snap of jason’s hips knocked a moan out of you, as he grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced your face back towards the camara. towards dick. “need him to what? c’mon [name], sing it for dickie!”

he mocked as dick already shuffled his way into the staircase, frantically fishing his leaking cock out as you clenched around jay’s girth.

“fuckkk..jason you son of a—“ dick hissed, fucking his fist to the sight of your squirming in orgasm. your knees threatening to snap together, your face flushed in embarrassment yet arousal and those syrupy, pathetic eyes staring back at his. a sight straight out of some fucked up porn for a guy with a cucking fetish.

“woah there! look at that dick..i think you’re little boyfriend’s into this, right? you brazen little minx?!”

jason’s breathy laugh of amusement harmonized with your hiccups and sobs as you creamed all over the red hood’s cock, his girth wet and coated in white as he slowed his thrusts down. dick, turned on yet aggravated that another man made you cum, threw his head back against the wall as he reached his own orgasm.

“[name], baby..look at me, please, look at me while i cum..! shit!”

dick let out a broken groan as ropes of white landed on his phone screen and onto the floor, yet he still was hard as a fucking rock. what didn’t help was that when he looked back at the facetime, you were already on all fours, ass up with your leaking pussy ready to be fucked once again.

“you might wanna hurry up, or i’ll fuck him raw again.”

jason chuckled as dick sprinted through the dark sky, already around the corner to get some well deserved payback. see who’s laughing still once you’re stuffed full of your man’s cock with the paramour watching.

© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[kenobers]

nsfw alphabet | Jason Todd

what the title says ! tw; explicit sexual content, gn!reader a/n; like always, these are just my thoughts and headcanons

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Jason's gonna make sure you're comfortable afterwards. He'll wipe you down, check that he didn't go too far. If you leave afterwards, he'll make sure you get home safe. If you stay, he'll offer you a t-shirt to sleep in. For a while, he wasn't big on the physical aspect of aftercare, but eventually pulling you to his chest becomes second nature. It's like your head fits just right in the crook of his shoulder. Hey, maybe the body heat will keep with the inevitable soreness you'll feel tomorrow. He's big on eating after sex. If you have enough energy, he'll order some Chinese or throw a frozen pizza in the oven. Sometimes it's kind of astonishing how the man will fuck you until you're more than a ragdoll, then immediately demolish like three Big Macs.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves hands. He loves his hands. They're big and strong, they can protect you, please you, provide for you. He adores the way you feel under them, soft and clean. He loves to feel you press against his palm while his fingers disappear inside of you. He loves your hands, the way they feel on his skin. No matter their size, they always look so small wrapped around his cock. He cherishes every mark your fingernails leave along his back, every sting they leave on his scalp when they twist his hair. He loves that your hands can go from caressing his scars to replacing them.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Jason loves the sight of you, sweaty and panting, with your stomach and thighs decorated in white. He's a little more possessive than he likes to admit, and he secretly feels like he's marking you as his whenever he finishes all over your skin.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He loves having high sex. When the weed hits just right, so the world reduces to nothing but you...that's that good shit right there. He gets so locked in that there isn't a single thought that could pull him away. He's numb in every place that isn't touching you. It adds a certain level of passion, of desperation, for each of you because your senses are so heightened to each other. However, it isn't very often that he feels both of you are to the same level of inebriated for it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He isn't as sexually charged as you would think and he typically waits to get to know a person before having sex with them (with a few exceptions, like for a certain crime lord's daughter). So in that regard, one of his body counts is significantly higher than the other, but he's had enough experience to know what he's doing. He knows what he likes and he knows how to figure out what you like.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

So long as your legs are hooked over his hips, he's happy. Jason particularly loves it when he's on his knees while you're on your back with your hips angled over his thick thighs. It lets him get deep inside of you while still being able to look at your pretty face. Not to mention, he loves grasping your hips, spreading your legs wide. (According to trusted resource, SexPositions.Club, this is position 5. Aquarius) He also loves having you up against things. Against a wall, on the kitchen table, the handle bars of his motorcycle. The way you hold onto him in more ways than one really adds something to the moment. And yeah, maybe it allows him to show off his strength to you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Jason's tone depends on the time and place. For the most part, he's serious. He teases you, lets out a low chuckle when he gets a sought after reaction from you, but it isn't humorous. But sometimes...sex is just incredibly unserious. Like lazy morning sex, when neither of you can be bothered to do much more than roll on top of one another. Like you're horny, but Jason looks so goofy with his hair sticking up and you're a real beauty queen with your crusty eyes. Or the aforementioned high sex, when both of you are so lost in your pleasure and giggles.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

His autopsy scar stops where his happy trail begins. Before you were a regular in his bed, he didn't really think to groom himself much. But he figured he should show you some decorum, so he keeps the dark patch of hair reigned in.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Jason doesn't take sex lightly. It's either a tool or a declaration of love (no matter how lazy). If he's using sex as a tool, he isn't going to be very intimate. He'll praise you, sing songs about your body, but it isn't going to be very personal. However, when you're in an established relationship, he's very intimate. There's much more kissing and eye contact, lots more "that's my baby" instead of "that's it, baby".

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Oh yeah. Usually only if you're gone though. He'd rather have the real deal. But sometimes...if he thinks about you for a little too long...well, it's hard to hide all that when you're his size...it's just polite for everyone else if he just deals with it.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Jason's kinks are sort of a revolving door. He likes to go rougher and he likes to be in charge typically, but everything else is dependent on your moods. One day he'll blindfold you, the next you'll tie his hands together while he gives you orders you have to follow on your own. He'll be daddy once, then sir the next, but his favorite thing to here is Jason. He also gets a thrill out of doing it with the Red Hood mask on. He's also got a praise kink. There's nothing that gets him going more than hearing you babble about how good he's making you feel, about how much you love him. It goes the other way as well. He loves to tell you how good you feel, how beautiful you are, how well you're taking him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Where ever the mood strikes. Generally speaking, his apartment is his favorite place. There isn't a particular room, he just likes the knowledge that this is your space to do as you please. But he does get a little thrill whenever you manage to do it somewhere risky.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

It's cliche as hell, but the sight of you in red really does work wonders for him. If he can see your nipples through your shirt, it's over. Watching you doing or say something intelligent is a huge turn on. He likes to watch you work for it. The way you oh-so-conspicuously bend over to pick something up or shiver so your chest sticks out. Make a suggestive face as you drop an innuendo only he understands and he'll see to it that your efforts don't go unrewarded.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He's not a voyeur. If he's gonna do it in a public setting, it's gonna be in a closet or a bathroom stall; somewhere that still shields your bodies from prying eyes. That's just for the two of you. Now, of course there's exceptions - like if you're trying to piss off your mobster father by fucking on his property, then he'll get a little cheeky for the security cameras.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Jason is nothing, if not a giver. Just lay back and let him take care of it, baby. This is something he can spend hours doing. His tongue knows just where to work you, he knows just how much teeth you like, where the biting boarders on pain. And if his fingers aren't right next to his mouth, they're kneading your skin, raking his nails across your stomach with a featherlight touch, massaging the kinks in your thighs so you can open them a little more. If nothing else, his mouth and hands can cover a lot of ground.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Jason likes it fast and rough. He'll drag out foreplay to his heart's content, but once you're good and ready, he's fucking you like his life depends on it. Then he's flipping you over and doing it again. That said, he has his slow and sensual moments. After a rough night when he's feeling particularly sentimental and grateful for you, he'll take all the time in the world just to watch you underneath him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Pro quickie, but usually if it's an appetizer for what comes later on. It's hard to take a dick that big and casually go on about your day. So, most of the time quickies look like his fingers sneaking down your pants during your lunch break, his head between your thighs in the bathroom at a charity event, or you on your knee taking care of him before patrol.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

As mentioned earlier, his kinks are a revolving door, so he would be down to experiment. He's pretty good about saying no when he needs to, and if he trusts that you can do the same, then he's open to trying new risks.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

No one recovers like this man. He can go for as many rounds as your heart desires. Unless he's already been yearning the whole damn day, Jason can last until the cows come home.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't have any toys for himself and doesn't really like to use them on his own body. However, he likes to use the vibrator on you, especially during foreplay. He likes to watch as you curl into him and shake with pleasure while he drives the toy between your legs - especially knowing that it won't be enough to satisfy you for long.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He likes to tease up to a certain point. If you're out doing something, he'll keep sliding his hand higher and higher up your thigh, then pull away completely, or lean down to say something to you so that his breath hits your neck in that one sensitive spot... But once your clothes are off, he can only restrain himself for so long.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Low groans and swears. His mouth as a mind of its own when he really gets going as he praises you, teases, calls out to you. You're his Baby, his Pretty Thing/Girl/Boy, so so good for him, taking it all like this. Oooh. Look. At. You. You can always tell when he's close because his panting turns to grunts, his sweet nothings become more intense as they strain between his teeth.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He's secretly a little self conscious about his body, particularly about his scars. Like, yeah, he's big and muscly and people always say they dig scars, but...some of his are, like, real nasty. Not to mention, that some of them have triggering memories attached to them. He finds his autopsy scar to be especially gross. It takes up so much of his chest and it doesn't seem to want to fade like the rest of his marks tend to do. So for a while when you first started having sex, he found ways around taking his shirt off. And if it did come off, it was in the dark. Once he works up the courage to finally show you all of him in proper light, he's surprised when you're more fascinated with it than anything. He can't suppress the shiver that runs down his spine when you press your lips to the crux of that T-shaped stamp. He probably won't ever love his scars, but he'll always adore the way you treat them.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He's a big guy and is very proportional. He's a solid 8 inches standing tall and girthy. He's a lot to take in, which is why he's very adamant about getting an orgasm out of you before penetration.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His libido is strong for you. As previously stated, he's not as sex charged as you would think, but he does have a strong desire for you. He initiates sex fairly regularly, but he doesn't feel the need to paw at your clothes 24/7.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He almost always waits until you fall asleep. If you manage to fall asleep quickly, then he'll follow suit typically.

[gilverrwrites]

Batguys when they have for the first time a vibrator put ON THEM (their dicks) by reader during sex ( they never experienced a toy on themselves before, it was always used on their girl if they were using toys).

AND I’m the same person that send the bat guys vibrators suggestion! What if the guys thought the vibrator was only for women and they’re proven other wise 😏😉

AN: I’m not convinced of them not knowing per se, so much as they’ve just never considered it for various reasons. So, in order of understood to least understood; Ft. Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Roy

Batman:

He knows full well the effects, he’s just hates to not be in control. So when you finally pin him down long enough to have your way, it’s because he lets you. When you teasingly glide the tip of your vibe along his length he purposely bucks his hips, urging you to use it on his sensitive tip, enjoying the whole commotion more than he thought he would.

The gloriously thick muscles of his thighs tense under his own self-restraint as you finally give him what wants.

“You’re taking it so well Brucie.” You coo and he glares at you from beneath his brow, trying and failing to maintain dominance but the rest of his body betrays him; his cheeks are tinted a precious shade of red, his broad chest heaving with each shallow breath.

When you praise him again; “You’re such a good boy.” He loses it completely.

Nightwing:

100% understands, but why would he ever want to use them on himself, when he could use them on you?

Then again, you’re so cute with those big puppy dog eyes, that mischievous grin when you ask to try something on him, how could he say no? And my god, he is a sight to behold. Even having seen the effect your bullet has on you, the way it makes you wither and moan uncontrollably, nothing could prepare him for his first experience.

He’s so loud, louder than you and just as unruly. His hands gripping tight to every surface, you, the headboard, the pillows, the mattress nothing satiates him. His long legs stretch, his toes curl, hips rolling and jerking for friction as his whole body shakes. Unable to muster the normal slew of filth he typically showers you with; he pants your name between obscenely breathless moans until he cums all over himself.

Side note: I swear, put this man in a vibrating cock ring, I need it.

Red Hood:

He’s just literally never thought about it before. One night you ask him to grab something from your bedside drawer and you’re surprised when he comes back holding your wand. When you ask if he wants to try it out, this is not what he expects.

Hell, if he’s not complaining though. Jason has never seen this kind of thing in action, so he’s lounging on the bed, legs spread wide as he leans against the headboard, not expecting too much.

When you tease the vibrating head along his shaft, causing it to twitch, he laughs and jokes about it tickling, but the moment you press it to the tip of his cock his whole body trembles.

“Ah, fuck baby.” He bites his lip, trying and failing to keep his eyes from rolling back. “Right there, right there, please don’t stop.”

Arsenal:

And if I may throw a wildcard in the mix;

Roy is exactly the kind of smart but dense kinda guy who could tinker away endlessly, making the perfect toys (out of equipment intended for weaponry might I add) to meet your needs, things meant to fill you in all the right spaces, to vibrate and pulse at the strength and speed that drives you wild, without it ever occurring to him that it could be used on him too.

He’s already hard as a rock and close to the edge after you’ve gone down on him, when you show him what you’re doing he lazily mumbles “Oh come on baby, that’s not gonna do anything.”

He’s proven almost immediately wrong. He’s lovingly cupping your face or holding your hair back but when he feels the vibrating sensation on his already sensitive cock his grip automatically tightened like a vice.

The skin from his cheeks to his belly growing hotter with each pulse until his body is just a few shades lighter than his hair, he’s sweating, eyes watering, begging for release and when you grant it he nearly tumbles over, legs weak and trembling.

[acid-ixx]

Wouldn’t it be funny if Reader shows just a tiny amount of happiness to any one of the batfam, and the next thing you know they try their best to make Reader to do it again.

Example:

Dick:Makes a silly joke

Reader: Actually smiles and laughs at it

Dick: gloats about it to the fam

The BatFam: practically on all fours chasing after Reader to try and make them laugh

Don’t stress out with your writings (btw love your ‘again & again’ series❤️)

Take your time and don’t forget to drink water🫶🫶🫶

laughter is the best medicine

ft. yan! dick grayson, jason todd, and damian wayne

— masterlist !

more beneath the cut ! fluff ? with a mix of yandereness is my thing hehe. i love this ask sm <3 you guys are being fed well today !!!

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

ugh they're the definition of giving someone an inch and they'll be taking a mile. it would especially be annoying if it were dick on the receiving end of the line. but even if he'd be the one you'd take most precaution to, don't underestimate just how much your opinion holds the most value in the family. so they'll most definitely gloat about their achievement of making you smile or hell, even leaning against their shoulder willingly calls for a celebration.

trust me when i say that living in a stuffy manor already sucks, and they don't exactly like seeing you sulk and merely rot in your bed all day. so like any loving family would do, they'll try their damn best to at least see a quirk of your mouth or that faint glimmer in your that dick oh-so enchantingly talk about.

so it comes to them in the form of a surprise that one day, when your oldest brother accidentally trips over one of your expensive novelty ballpen, instead of nearly shouting at him for breaking one of your favorites, it was the "oomph!" sound his throat makes and his wide eyes when his ass directly landed on the floor that makes you crack into small giggles.

if it weren't for his enhanced hearing, dick would've crossed out your laughter as a hallucination, a product of imagination, something entirely impossible to produce, but no.

he had proven himself wrong.

once he turns back at you, he sees the crinkle of your eyes and your palm trying to cover your shit eating grin. the plump of your cheeks are so accentuated that he forgets the initial embarrassment he feels in the first place, replaced with awe at just how artfully captivating his sibling looks; sitting by

it's like a painting, he wishes it was. he wishes tim would be quick enough to capture the succession of your smiles in the live camera feed.

all because he couldn't believe it. couldn't believe that his baby bird is laughing. they're laughing and they look so mirthful and full of life when doing so.

yes, you're laughing at him, at his stupidity for being unable to detect a mere ballpen despite being trained to locate every known obstacle in a field.

but fuck, he was already raised at a circus to fulfill the role of an acrobat who entertains the crowd. what more could it be if that means he could play the role of a clown for you, his baby bird worth more than a thousand lives, whose laughter is equivalent to the immense euphoria that is filling his entire being?

give him an inch and he'll take an entire mile.

the next day, you'd be greeted with... a lot of peculiar instances within your family. all of which you would laugh at because it's not typical that your family displays mistakes, and you feel a bit better about yourself when their imperfections seem to seep out of their being— or maybe it's just your thoughts eating you up again, because is it just you or did jason, tim, and even damian, manage to at least trigger a reaction out of you?

tim would accidentally end up drinking orange juice right after brushing his teeth. his cringing expression, choked gargling and immense spitting is enough to guarantee a light chuckle from your seated form as you ate your cereal in peace, watching him as he tries to rid of the bitter taste on his tongue. although, bitter as it may, the sweetness and the aching of his tooth overpowers the regret he fills for gulping an entire bottle of orange juice down his throat.

he's so glad that he had set up multiple cameras and recorders at different angles prior to your time spent with him because he just couldn't stop watching your reaction in loop whilst he tried to continue his investigations within gotham's latest crime news. yet no matter how hard he attempts to control himself, his eyes couldn't stop looming over to your form, finding your reaction too incredibly cute to be ignored. yeah, he'll do his duties later. for now, he just needs to... screenshot every single frame of your expressions.

jason isn't much of a joker but when reading you one of your favorite stories, he had managed to mispronounce one of the words so badly that it ruined the narrative of the classical book he was voice acting for you. it was a stupid thing to laugh at, but for a guy like jason, who was an english nerd in his very prime, it would be hilarious— especially when his gothamite accent seeps into his vocabulary; which is very unbefitting for the voice of a character who was a princess that loves to wear frilly, pink dresses.

imagine a man, with a growl that vibrates through his skull, and muscles that bulge through his shirt, voices a princess of all people! his high pitched register for the character was already grating to your ears, but the sudden shift from an airy and girlish to deep and gruff with an added effect of a voice crack at the word "cake" was enough to let you burst out into laughs, your giggles echoing through the comfortable silence of the manor's library. for the first time in a while, you let jason wrap his arms around your shoulder, asking for your input about his tremendous acting skills.

jason never had many moments to cherish within the manor, preferring to stay over and outside of bruce's radar, but god does he love going through the batcave's live feed just to zoom in on your expressions, the grin on your face heavily reminds him of himself, back when he was the oblivious robin with no idea of what was coming to him. yet only now, he swears to protect your smile from never faltering.

damian takes his artistry skills seriously, constantly making a show of bragging to you whenever he has the opportunity to. but this time, he was incredibly pissed at drake for accidentally squeezing all the paint from the tube of oil paints he had stored by the drawers, and it was a shade closest to your skin tone, too; he meant to use that tube of paint for his next portrait of you. so like the petty child he is, damian sets on an hour long routine of drawing tim with monstrous features that screams the opposite of what he sports.

that means he had drawn multiple variants of tim with a hideous, actual bowl cut one. no seriously, his hair was a bowl and the strands that peeked out of it were spaghetti strands. in another drawing, his red robin outfit consists of plucked feathers and an elongated beak for its mask, what seems to be the pocket for the eyes now replaced with cat-like slits that makes the vigilantes expression looker idiotic and downright stupid. yet it felt therapeutic for damian to draw that his brother with what he felt was enough revenge to exact upon drake. that scum deserved a horrendously made portrait of him.

what he didn't expect was that you had stumbled upon his atelier, wanting to cure your boredom by painting a scenery when all of a sudden you had to drop all your equipment from your hands because... what the fuck was damian painting...? why is tim crawling across the floor in one of the portraits...? it takes a second or two for you to register the drawing's very detailed portrayal of a literal bowl cut, your laughter bursting out of the seams because no fucking way did damian actually draw something so hilarious and unserious. if you were anybody else, damian would've kicked your shins so violently you would've required a visit to the hospital. but because it's you... he chooses to sulk in the corner with puffed cheeks and burning ears as you approach the painting with said curiosity of a child and a laughter you can't stifle so easily.

at least it got you to stay in the same room as him for about an hour, with you giving your youngest brother more ideas to make the drawings even more unsettling than they already were, to which damian takes your tips to heart.

after you had eagerly (and shyly) showed the entire family you and damian's shared creation of a monstrosity, tim swears he'll never squeeze a tube of damian's paint anymore.

[onmyyan]

Ain't no sunshine chapter 3

A/n: canon typical violence someone gets stabbed (not you) feedback is always welcome

The clock ticks in an uncomfortable rhythm, almost pounding in your ears, you swallow around nothing and try to take a deep breath, only a few more minutes now.

Sitting cross cross felt childish but you needed the comfort of being low to the ground, before you stood a proud grandfather clock, the thing always intimidated you for some reason, maybe it's because you could smell how expensive it was, how priceless, but it was the only room in the house you could guarantee would be free of any nuisances, aka your estranged family.

A lone little Debbie cupcake in hand, a candle in another, you stick the candle inside the soft flesh of the treat, lighting it with the silver zippo, the seconds begin to count down as the wax melts, today was your eighteenth birthday, and the day you'd find true freedom. A day you'd been waiting for since you'd decided to wash your hands of the Wayne's and all who associated with them.

Bruce had begun to add to his collection of broken people one by one a new face was added to the house, and one by one you were met with the same cold indifference.

Barbara Gordon came into your life warmly, on the arm of Dick, she was kind to you in the beginning, making a point to ask you questions and listening intently when you answered, immediately you admired the older woman, her charming grin and bright demeanor was like a light inside the house, until she became who you eventually discovered was Oracle, tied up in the world of heroes and monsters, she too joined the club of exclusion, unintentionally forgetting plans the two of you had made more often than not, sharing inside jokes with Dick about last night's patrol or even taking on a mentor role for Damian, each action like a stab to the heart.

The last straw felt like the smallest one. And it came in the form of Cassandra Cain.

The girl came to the family under reasons you couldn't know, but she was troubled, you could see the same look in her eyes you had when you looked in the mirror as a child, she didn't outright reject your friendship like Damian, but she was seemingly as disinterested in you as the rest of your family, the real kick to your heart came when you walked past a moment shared between her and Bruce, he was comforting her, you couldn't hear the words spoken but you could feel the love pouring from Bruce, how he had a gentle hand on her shoulder, showing her a kind of love he'd never once shown you.

It wasn't her fault and you held no grudge against her, but it still felt like a slap to the face, and every time you saw her, every time she followed them down to their little hiding spot, the acid-like sting deep in your chest got worse. It was then you made a promise to yourself, you'd stop trying, no more reaching out to Dick or praying Jason would message you back, no more begging for Tim's attention or Damian's respect, and you were sure as shit done asking Bruce to love you.

You're brought back to the present moment by the loud ring of the clock before you, the echoing sound brought a ear splitting grin to your face, finally, you were done.

Blowing out the candle, you toss it on the floor, standing with a pep in your step. You'd had your bags moved out days ago so the only thing left was to leave. A chatter could be heard the closer you got to the front door, male and female voices happily spoke with one another, but you were so unfazed, too excited about your current plans to care they'd gathered without you on your birthday.

"Oh hey (Y/n)" Dick says after spotting your form in the doorway, see the only reason you were here is because the dining room lead to the front door, and your new found freedom.

You nod at him, taking in the sight of popcorn and half empty pizza boxes, a movie projected on the wall, ah so they decided to have a little get together?

None of your concern.

"Sorry we didn't call you down, didn't realize you were home" Dick says a look of pity in his eyes, "do you want some?" It's almost said with a wince.

"Nah." Was your simple response, and with that you walked out of their door and lives.

You'd bought an apartment with your own money, you'd been working since you were fourteen, saving every penny for this moment exactly. It was in a shit part of town with an even shitter interior but it was yours and you loved it. Water dripped into a mostly full bucket in the corner, the lights took a full forty seconds to turn on and it reeked of old cigarettes.

Yet you couldn't wipe the smile off your face.

Feeling that euphoric rush had you buzzing all night, besides the bed in your room was, questionable to say the least, so you decided to stay up. Cleaning what you could with what you had made you feel even better, this terrible little space was all yours, no condescending people or assholes in sight.

Feeling hungry, you throw on a black puffer coat and a matching beanie and start to brave the Gotham cold. Each step is taken with a new gratitude, the farther you get from that family the better you feel.

Your happiness is pulled to a grinding halt by the sound of rapid footsteps behind you, without thinking you turn, fist balled tightly in perfect form, Patty would be proud if she saw the way you decked the bastard running up on you.

You nailed him right in the throat sending him to his knees, his knife cluttering to the ground before your feet, grabbing the weapon you point it down at his choking body, your hands still despite your rapid heartbeat. The wheezing man made a swipe at your ankles causing you to bring the knife down right into his shoulder, a scream rips though his throat, the adrenaline in your body has you running on autopilot.

Kicking him in the side of the head to quickly sprint to the corner store where you'd planned on going in the first place, your hands shake as you grab your food, but again, that smile stays on your face.

Not only had you moved out today, you'd proved to yourself you didn't need them for anything, not protection, not validation, nothing, it was like you could breathe again.

The next few weeks are business as usual at the manor, until Barbara looks at the calendar and realizes she'd, along with everyone, had forgotten your birthday. The guilt ate at her until she made her way to your room knocking softly, a cupcake in hand she called out, "(Y/n)? Listen I'm so sorry about your birthday, I got my dates mixed up." The lie came easy, but no response was heard, "I get if you're completely pissed at me, at us but-"

"Miss (L/n) has moved out."

"what? How is that possible we would have noticed her moving out." As if to prove Alfred wrong Barbara opens your door, only to find a barren room, empty of any signs of life. She turns to the older man, a thousand questions burning on her tongue, but he seemed to read her, "you'd be surprised what goes unnoticed in this house miss Gordon, have a good afternoon." He leaves her with this and it only makes the guilt and confusion worse.

She pulls out her phone scrolling to a number she hadn't used in a while, biting her thumb as it rings she's hoping you clear all her confusion when you answered, but you don't, instead an automated message tells her your phone has been disconnected. Now she begins to worry, you were so young, just barely an adult, the idea of you out on your own in Gotham had her heart sinking, clicking the family group chat she sends a message that will change everything.

"We need to talk about (Y/n)."

[lilacsandlillies]

I was going through the anti Jason Todd tag because I hate myself and want to understand where people who dislike him are coming from and one thing I kept seeing was annoyance at Jason fans who claim that Jason is female coded and realized that the term “female coded” might not be the best term to describe what we mean.

A female coded character in literature and media typically means a character that has no specified gender or otherwise does not have a gender but is obviously meant to be a stand in for a woman or female. Kind of like how Starfire has no specified race (due to being an alien) but is still obviously black coded based on the way she’s drawn and treated by the narrative.

This is slightly different than what we mean when saying that Jason is female coded. It’s not that Jason is literally supposed to be a stand in for a female character, it’s that the way a lot of characters treat him and a lot of the tropes used on him are things that usually saved for female characters, not big buff men like Jason.

To start with, being Robin is narratively (or at least was) very similar to being a woman in a story. Robin is a role made to complement Batman (who we all know is basically the ultimate male power fantasy). Robin’s role is to be an accessory to Batman. Robin can be smart, but not smarter than Batman. Robin can be strong, but not stronger than Batman. Hell, Robin is often kidnapped and used as a literal damsel in distress, a role often regulated for women as a whole.

What sets Jason apart from the other robins (except for Steph) in this regard is that they were allowed to be characters outside of Batman. Dick might not have been the “man” of the story when he’s with Bruce, but when he’s with the teen titans suddenly he’s the smart one who has all the answers. Jason’s Robin was never really allowed this.

Then we get to the most, controversial, part of Jason’s female coding. The fact the he was effectively fridged. Fridging is usually only referred to as frigding if it’s a female character, but Jason’s death checks pretty much all the other boxes needed. An incredibly brutal death that was more about Bruce’s feelings on it than Jason himself.

This is especially apparent when compared to the other Bat characters. For all the female coding, the only other Robin to actually be fridged was Steph (and we all know about the misogyny surrounding her death). Barbara was also kind of fridged during the killing Joke. The only female character to escape this is Cass (to my knowledge). When you look at it through this lens, the fact that the only other characters to be permanently damaged like this for Bruce’s story are female, it’s not hard to see where the idea that Jason is female coded comes from.

You can even find this in Jason’s origin story. Poor little orphan is saved by benevolent billionaire is a role usually saved for little girls, like in Annie.

Despite what you might think, this even continues after Jason’s revival. Jason is still used less as a character and more as a motivation for Bruce. He’s regularly called emotional and hysterical (terms usually used to refer to women).

Jason is first and foremost a victim. A role performed by women in most media. Men are expected to be stoic and “rise above” the things done to them as to not be victims, as continuously shown by the way characters like Nightwing are not allowed to be effected by the horrific things they go through. The fact that Jason is shown the be angry, and sad, and emotional, constantly, and the fact that he’s punished and vilified for it puts him in a place much more similar to a female character.

There’s a reason that so many Jason fans (that like him for a reason past “antihero with guns”) are female. For most characters, when you swap their genders there would be a pretty clear and big difference in the way their story takes place. If you swap Jason’s gender, the story takes place identically.

A lot of this is best shown in men’s reactions to Arkham Knight’s version of Jason. In that game, Jason is similarly angry and emotional, albeit for slightly different reasons. He is also still unmistakably a victim. You’d think the men playing would like him. After all he’s a big cool angsty guy with a lot of guns and muscles. Instead, a lot of men’s thought that he was whiny. That his feelings were annoying.

There’s also something to be said about how his autonomy is regularly undermined by Bruce (specifically in Gotham war) and how his decisions and feeling are constantly treated as if they’re worth less than Bruce’s, but that’s a discussion for another day.

[amomentsescape]

Yandere slashers and sinclair brothers with a reader that is pregnant and therfore much more clingy and cuddly and emotionally attached?

Yandere! Slashers with Reader That is Pregnant and Super Clingy

Yandere! Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo, & Lester

Warnings: Typical Yandere behavior, pregnancy of course

A/N: I hope you enjoy! Also, starting today, I will be including the Sinclair brothers in ALL future Slasher requests by default!

Freddy Krueger

Ah, he knew you'd come around

Even just hearing your voice has him sprinting to you, wanting nothing more than to tend to you

Seeing you reach out and ask for his affection leaves him with the biggest grin you've ever seen

Won't give you any time alone either

Wherever he is, you are

Will rub his hand over your growing stomach whenever he holds you

Just know now that you've given him a taste of what it's like to be wanted, he's not going to let you change that even once you have the baby

Michael Myers

He will complain about this newfound clinginess of yours

He enjoyed when you were more standoffish, and he had to force you to give him the attention he desired

Things feel just a little too easy now

He just hopes things will go back to how they were before once you have the child

Although, there still won't be much time alone with a baby crying all the time

But he misses the old you

It's why he took you in the first place

Jason Voorhees

God, why couldn't it be like this all of the time?

He actually feels needed and desired in a way that he didn't before

Hearing you call for him and feeling you squished against his side makes him even happier about you being pregnant (if that's even possible)

Will silently thank your full belly every night while you're sleeping, grateful that you need him so much

He really hopes this affection for him grows along with your stomach

He needs you, and now you need him

It's exactly what he wanted

Thomas Hewitt

He is almost unable to keep up with your demands, but God does he love it

You can call him names, scream at him, do whatever you want if it means he gets to hold you like this all of the time

Will rub your feet, spoon you, and massage your back if your heart desires

Will constantly check in on you

Hell, he has barely left the house for the last couple weeks

Not only because he wants to take care of you

He just enjoys how much attention you're giving him

And he wants to soak it all up while he has the chance

Bubba Sawyer

You've never seen him so happy and giggly before

Every single smile or touch you give him sends him into a fit of bubbly energy

But if you give him a little, he takes it to a lot

A simple hug will have him rolling you over and squeezing you like your life depended on it

A kiss on the cheek has him pressing his lips on every square inch of your skin

Thankfully, you don't mind right now

Any other person would find it to be overbearing, but you can't help but relish in it

He hopes this will never change and will only increase once the baby is born

Brahms Heelshire

He loves the constant affection

There's no limit to this man on how much you can give him

But he can't help the slight feeling of dread that pools in his stomach

He knows the pregnancy is aiding in this change

And he fears that once the baby is born, all attention towards him will be put towards the child or will disappear altogether

He can send himself into fits of rage just by thinking too much about this situation

Be gentle with him, and it will all be fine

But now that you've given him a taste of what he so desperately desires, there's no way you can go back

He will never let you

Norman Bates

Any single look or word you say to Norman has him flushing the darkest shade of red you've ever seen

His stuttering increases, he finds himself clumsier than usual, and he can barely sleep at night

He acts like a little boy with a crush

And the fact that you're carrying his child only increases that giddy feeling inside of him

He's still hesitant to initiate anything with you, but he will never say no to you if you ask him for anything

He feels so happy, like his dreams are coming true

He can't wait for you all to be a little family

And if this is what it's like whenever you're pregnant...

He's going to want a big family

Billy Loomis

Billy likes a challenge, but now you're just giving in so easily

He can't say he doesn't mind it though

He may act all cool and tough about you being so clingy with him, but there's a part of him that loves having you depend on him

He's your lover and provider

He likes it this way

But the moment you seem just the slightest bit off, he is going in on you, starting arguments and making accusations that aren't even true

So be careful where you tread

You've ignited something in him, and he likes it

Stu Macher

This works out for Stu because knowing you're carrying his child also brings out his clingy and affectionate side

It's like being one and the same, always seeming to call out for each other at the same time

He's a big foodie, so you bet he'll always bring you your favorite snacks

He might even become more comfortable and let you out in public with him occasionally

He thrives off of your attention

Will talk to your belly and say how lucky they've made him

Becomes the tiniest bit delusional and believes that you won't ever leave him now

Not that you really wanted to, but if you did, he would never let you

Vincent Sinclair

Your sudden increase in attention has Vincent all bashful

Will immediately become more shy but loves every second of it

Will beg on his knees if you ask him to

He's willing to go to literally any length to make you (and the baby) happy

Will lay and spend time with you for however long you ask

He's also big into getting you food and drinks that you're craving

As long as you hug him and tell him just how much you love him, he'll do anything for you

Bo Sinclair

He has mixed feelings about the sudden change in your neediness

It does boost his ego quite a bit and makes him feel like you really need him

You're just so helpless so of course he needs to help you

But at the same time, he's a bit annoyed

He has plenty of things to do

Spending 24/7 with you and giving you affection all the time isn't his thing

It all depends on what mood you catch him in

If he's feeling good, you being clingy doesn't bother him

But if he's already irritated, you being all over will only make it worse

Just tread carefully around him

Lester Sinclair

He can feel himself melt every time you ask for a simple hug or kiss

Feeling you crawl into bed with him in the middle of the night plasters the biggest smile on his face

He lives for your attention and touch

You could slap him and he'd be happy

Anytime you cuddle up to him, he's immediately reaching for your growing belly, wanting to give his child some attention too

Will compliment you repeatedly over your new found attachment

Prays every night that this is a permanent change