#yandere kori

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

I loved your defiant darling for your nightwing x reader x star fire series

Can I request maybe a darling who after being kidnapped starfire maybe tries to do their makeup or their hair because they think their depressed after being kidnapped

ᴘᴀɪɴᴛᴇᴅ ʙɪʀᴅ

ɴɪɢʜᴛᴡɪɴɢ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x sᴛᴀʀғɪʀ�� (ʏ)

I shall return 🙌

ᴍᴏʀᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ!

The room smelled like vanilla and something floral, sweet in a way that clung to the air, thick as honey. It wasn’t yours. You didn’t own anything that smelled this soft, this saccharine. Your things smelled like detergent, like soap and the fleeting ghost of fresh air from when you could still crack open a window and decide how much of the world you wanted to let in. Here, the air was controlled. Stagnant. Even the artificial light was curated, warm enough to feel like a sunset but never dim enough to invite the comfort of darkness.

It was a prison dressed in soft linens and foreign perfumes, and Kory had the audacity to hum while she rifled through her little acrylic containers of makeup.

“You are looking most sad,” she said, eyes flicking to yours in the mirror, half-lidded and unreadable. “Dick worries.”

It wasn’t a question.

She picked up something small and glossy—a tube of pinkish-gold—before setting it down and reaching for something darker.

“I do not believe the sadness is good for you,” she continued, tone light, like she was discussing something as inconsequential as a rain forecast. “Your body is unhappy. Your shoulders are tense. Your lips are dry.” Her eyes flicked back to the mirror, assessing. “This shade would be very nice on you, I think.”

You didn’t respond. It was easier not to. Easier to stare at the mirror with the kind of dull resentment that made your bones feel old, aching under the weight of fury that had nowhere to go.

Dick had tried to talk to you earlier. He had that damn patience, the kind that stretched and stretched like old elastic, never quite snapping. He’d sat on the couch, all loose limbs and easy charm, something bright in his eyes that never matched the sharpness of his mind. He had always been too good at talking. Always been too good at getting people to listen.

“You can be angry,” he had told you, voice softer than you wanted it to be. “But you have to understand that we’re doing this for you.”

And Kory—Kory, who was strong enough to tear through metal like paper but touched you like spun glass—was here, running a warm hand over your temple, brushing a stray strand of hair away before pressing something cool against your cheek.

Foundation. Or concealer. Some liquid thing meant to even out your skin tone, to smooth over imperfections, to make you presentable.

“You will feel better when you see how beautiful you are,” she assured, her smile unwavering, her fingers too gentle, too warm. “When you look good, you feel good, yes?”

The laugh that tore from your throat was sharp and humorless.

“Kory,” you said, flat and dull, staring past her to your own reflection. “I’ve been kidnapped.”

Her expression didn’t change. Not really. A flicker of something, maybe. Something too brief to catch before it smoothed back into certainty.

“I know,” she said, voice still light, still sweet. “That is why you are sad.”

Not because your freedom had been stolen. Not because Dick had taken away your phone and Kory had melted the lock on the door and their eyes were always on you, tracking your movements, patient, unwavering, like you were something fragile.

You let out a slow breath, something cold curling in your chest. “I’m not playing along with this.”

She hummed again, pressing her thumb against your jaw, tilting your face a little more toward her. “You do not have to. I will take care of it for you.”

The thing in your chest coiled tighter.

Her grip was light, but you knew, in the same way you knew how fire burned and ice numbed, that it didn’t have to be. If you jerked away, if you tried to move, she could hold you still like it was nothing.

But she wouldn’t.

Because she thought this was love.

Because she thought she was taking care of you.

Because she thought sadness was something that could be brushed away with mascara and foundation and the careful sweep of blush over your cheekbones.

Kory was still talking, something about color palettes and how your undertones suited golds and warm shades, and you wondered if she actually believed this would help or if she just wanted to make you easier to look at.

You let your eyes drift back to the mirror, to the way her fingers moved, precise and delicate, like she was painting something that belonged to her.

The air still smelled too sweet.

And when the door creaked open and Dick stepped in, blue eyes scanning, assessing, always watching, the thing in your chest curled so tight it hurt.

[whore-ibly-hot]

THROUGH OUR LORD AND SAVIOR @yanderereblogs THE FACULTY HAVE BEEN FOYND AND RETURNED TO US! PRAISE BE TO REBLOGGERS, SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL ARCHIVISTS!

Yandere Boarding School Part 2, (Faculty)

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Multiple yanderes, non-con touching, dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, bullying, masturbation, aphrodisiacs, general perversion, dry-humping, voyeurism, controlling behaviors, typical yandere stuff, breeding, smoking, horny posting.

(AN: Part Two has been reuploaded after a takedown, godspeed @yanderereblogs for saving it! Mmmmmm, old men. Everyone pictured as a student is OF LEGAL AGE TUMBLR MODS HOP OFF MY DICK.

Background: Thinking about a Headmasters Son or Daughter!Reader at a private boarding school. For a Fem!Reader, perhaps you're just visiting daddy for the season while he's running the school, or maybe you've been bad, and need more supervision. For a Masc!Reader, it could be the same case, however, with Ridgemoore Academy being an all male school, this makes it easier to imagine a world where reader is allowed in the school. Now, let's focus on the faculty...

◇ Mr. Joel Murphy, who teaches the majority of the 'life skills' classes at the school. The school being all-boys is very traditional, and teaches things like game hunting and orienteering, which is why they hired a manly-man like Joel. If only they knew what a bitter grump he is. An ex-sheriff of the nearby town, he decided to leave the force after realizing there was no real crime in the small, privileged town, and decided to take up an easy job at the school. Unfortunately, he realized his love for camping and hunting is warped into what he considers 'frilly shit for rich little boys'. He's gruff, barking out orders and easily been exasperated at the sheer incompetence of the boys.

"Shoot one quail, and these boys act like they killed a bear..."

He thought about retiring from yet another job, as living on the ritzy campus just doesn't feel like home to him, and lord knows he's not fond of his job. However, things change when you arrive. Whether you're a delinquent or a little more sweet and obedient, he likes you. If you're a delinquent, he likes seeing a little hell-raiser kick up some shit at the fancy school. If you're sweet or shy, he gets protective. Nice youngins' like you shouldn't be thrown in amongst these spoiled weasels.

He's sure to help you if you need it, a gentle hand on your back as his burly chest presses against your shoulder blades, adjusting your position against the butt of a rifle. Standing by while you're on hands and knees trying to light a fire, making sure none of the boys are trying to get a look at your assessts. Not that he isn't going to, but he justifies it to himself as just making sure your school shorts/skirt is regulation. He's protecting your modesty. After class hours, come to him with any issues, or shit, even his room. He'll put on some coffee and ask you to help him create a curriculum that 'reaches the kids', as your father instructed him to. It's cozy, the fancy school adnorments thrown away for medals and plaques, national parks posters and a few old family photos. He'll keep you tucked in on his warm couch while he strays from curriculum talk to stories of his time in the scouts and on the force. Tells you about how much he loves just... laying out under the stars with somebody special, to sit around a campfire with friends, then slyly ask is you've ever had somebody to do that with. He knows you're younger than him, and he struggles with the idea that you won't want him cause of it, so for now, he'll bask in the feeling of seeing you curled up in his room, keeping the idea of picking you up and having you accept his cock to himself. If you can get pregnant, his fists his cock to the thought of that too. He's not some horned up boy, he wants you in the long term.

He looooooves the yearly orienteering final, in which the students in the class are made to go on an actual camping trip. It's possible a tent will 'accidentally' go missing, leaving you to bunk with him. Don't worry, nothing bads gonna happen while you've got this burly bear of a man practically spooning you, warm gut from his dad-bod pressed against you as he tries his best to make sure he doesn't scare you.

"Sorry those damn boys left your tent back at the school, kiddo. I... wouldn't be suprised of one of them did it on purpose, little bastards." He grumbles, hoping you'll take the hint to separate yourself from those immature preps and stick to being with a man who can treat you right. "Remember that lesson from a couple weeks ago, on body heat? I know it's awkward, but we've only got one sleeping bag. You feel like you can trust this old man to keep you warm?" Unfortunately for his ego and trying to keep down his urges, the trees aren't going to be the only wood in the morning.

◇ Mr. Paul Burton, head of the arts department. He's so over this, a once decent artist who dabbled in pop art and theatre only to stop getting gigs and be black-listed after offending several more famous artists, calling their work 'sell-out chic', he's now a burn-out who smokes and ignores his students all class. He's passionate about art, but frankly he doesn't want tow aste his time teaching when he knows these rats are taking his class for easy credit. He's only teaching here to utilize the facilities and studios so he's not living in a van in the Walmart parking lot. A mix of hippie culture, live and let live and cynical burnout, he's so. Fucking. Done. But... maybe you change that for him.

You're interesting, a headmasters child who doesn't fit in to your fathers perfect mold? Maybe a rebellious student who goes against the grain of this perfect school. Or a blooming ray of sunshine in this dark den of privilege and conformist curriculum for the future lawyers of the world. Either way, he's found a new muse. See him after class.

He'll be thrilled if you're into art, let him guide you. Tell him your favorite artists and he'll tell you when he threw up on there shoes by accident in his hey-day. Gossip about a student you don't like, he'll listen while he smokes and tell you about how that guys mom hit on him. He loves to gossip, but he loves to watch you create more. The way your hands shape a vase or brush across a canvas light a fire in him he hasn't felt in a while. He's more willing to forgo the age gap between you, while it's never something he considered before, he knows he's not gonna let go of the one thing that makes him feel like he lives again. Besides, he's always been unconventional.

He'll have you stay after class, maybe he'll have you pose nude for a painting, assuring you it's fins, it's platonic, it's just for the love of art. He chooses and extra large canvas, it lets him paint while he relieves himself as you explain you're getting cold. He'll put on some artsy, silent, black and white film from the 30s, and while you watch and slowly realize it's pornographic, He'll grin to himself while he watches you flush. He'll ask you all sorts of questions about your thoughts on the film, the actors, what they're doing. He really wants to figure out how experienced you are. "What do you think of the composition? It's really carnal, you know?" He puts out his cigarette. "I'm glad I can show this to you, you'll actually appreciate it. You're not giggling like an idiot when some guys penis is out on the screen." He groans, thinking of his other students.

He does actually like one student, though they make an odd pair. Joseph's easily spooked and shy personality clashes with the brash older man's, but he's glad to have someone he can think of as a protege. Someone who loves art as much as him, but get isolated for it. He was doing a portfolio look over when Joseph accidentally turned in the wrong folder. Joseph feels like he might die as Mr. Burton, a man he admires, flips through nude pictures of the object of his affection, and at a distance no less. A part of him wants to rip it away, but he needs this scholarship.

"Please, please, sir! I-I'll never do it again, it was just a phase, I didn't mean for you to see-"

"They're good." Mr. Burton flips through the folder. "Real good. You could really get somewhere with these, maybe not in the fine art scene, but... tell you what." He adjusts his glasses and leans forward on his desk. "We'll do a special session, you and me, yeah? I'll get your friend here, and I'll vouch for your integrity so you can take some less-" he purses his lips. "Stalker-ish pics- Jesus, kid, is that taken from a tree?"

☆ Anatoli Sidorov, probably the best paid staff given how they got him here. He's a Russian coach for a former Olympic Russian swim team, and he joined the prestigious American school to escape shame after he 'resigned' post a doping scandal which he swears he wasn't involved in. (Whether he was or not is your choice.) Still, he's led the boys swim team and track team to nationals several times, and he's a legend among the wealthy benefactors of the school. He's outwardly very serious, hard on his team but respectful of them. He doesn't put up with any unruly or unsportsmanlike behavior from his boys, at least not what he can see. He's very nice deep down, intellectual and funny, though he still struggles with American humor and English.

He adores you when he meets you, milking about with the other students before class. You seem genuinely social, and wanting to fit in. The idea someone could be so welcoming warms his heart. Deep down, he misses his home, and he misses the friends he once had. You're warm, and he likes that. Not to mention, you're a looker. He's embarrassed, especially if you're male, seeing as he never considered swinging the other way, and much less with someone younger. But he can't help but stare when your pretty tits bounce as you run, or the way those jogging shorts hardly conceal your bulge. He even pulled you to the side one to scold you for not wearing regulation gym clothes, before realizing they were and awkwardly sending you back into class. That was a moment of self-reflection for him.

He's not necessarily outwardly softer to you, you might even think he doesn't like you, given that he has you stay late to run or jump rope, or constantly pulls you into time out mid-game. It's all for your own good, trust him. He doesn't like the way some of the boys were looking at you, and he could tell Evan was a only a play away from trying to practically hump you while trying to 'get the ball'. He's made Harrison, who he loves as a player, run laps for talking to you for only a few minutes. He hates feeling like a jealous boy, but he can't help it. You make him feel young.

He establishes a private locker room area for you, since you're the headmasters kid and not an official student. Besides, you're clearly being harassed by the others! So, he's got a nice little closet for you, with a not suspicious air freshener that's not a hidden camera, and a private key only you have access to. (Technically that's true, he just has a bypass key for himself.) He'll snatch a pair of boxers or some panties, slipping them into his track coat for later. Eventually, he'll tell you he's worried you aren't able to catch up to the others, given that you arrived later and started the gym curriculum later than the others. He'll start having extra 'make-up' workouts with you, starting with stretching. One leg uo on the bar, you'll have to excuses his cold hand running along your thigh, or stroking over your chest as him just admiring how your strength and flexibility is evolving. He relishes the feeling of your body on his, groping you under the guise of training and resisting the urge to just slip aside your gym shorts and veg you to take him.

"Little star, part 'dem a little, there ve go." He keeps your legs parted as he works you into a position on your back, against the rubber mats the tumbling team had laid out. He lays just over you, pushing your legs back a little further with his arms, just far away enough to keep you from noticing his hard on, but enough to lightly press it against the plush swell of your ass. Good, let's just- fuck- hold. Let's hold."

☆ Kory Koffman, English teacher and part time librarian! The school outs so much effort into sports, both admin and students seem to forget about him. Hell, the library is used so little they fired the librarian, and he took it upon himself to try and care for the building himself. He's a sweet, shy man, who just wants to share his passion for literature with others. However, unlike Mr. Burton, he was never popular or famous, so he's content to keep to himself, but the loneliness does get to him.

When you wandered into his library one day, maybe looking for a book or seeking refuge from a hoarde ofadmirers, he was happy to welcome you into his little safe haven. He'll give you some warm tea from the little coffee machine he has set up, and sit you down. Let him help you find a book, or tell you about his creative writing class? He'd let you join, even late in the semester! It's not a very full class.

For the first time in his life, he finds himself craving the attention of another, of someone else's company, other than his books. He hasn't felt that need for connection since he was a boy, after his momma passed. He'll do anything to keep you there, and if reading isn't your thing, much to his chagrin, he'll add a DVD section to the library, but only good films and classic for you! No Adam Sandler, those movies are to overstimulating for poor Mr. Koffman.

As his feelings turn romantic, he's ashamed. You're a student, and he's a lonely old man, you deserve someone better, someone your age. However, the thought of you being with any of the many students who mock him in the halls or disrupt his class, the thought of hand you over to those-those imbeciles, hurts him. He wants you, and he's ashamed at the way his trousers go tight when you bend over to get a fallen book, or when you hand him his glasses after he misplaced them (again), the fact he just stares at your finger prints for awhile and refuses to clean the lens. He's not had sex in a long, long time, but he finds himself masturbating more than he ever did when he was younger. He'll watch library security footage openly, moaning and whimpering at his desk with no fear anybody will stop in, no one ever does but you. He wants you as his spouse, you already make his library, his home away from home seem brighter, imagine what you could do for his actual apartment.

"Oh, hello! It's good to see you, it's been a bit." He's a little bitter at that last statement, but adjusts his glasses and continues. "Just remember to stop by often, okay? I'd really, really hate to impose the late policy on you..."

☆ Atticus Critch, the schools latin instructor and head sponsor of student body, (not to mention the man in charge of detention), is a strict disciplinarian. He takes no nonsense from anyone, and despises the behavioral pardons given to boys like Evan or Harrison simply because they are athletes. Peter is obviously his favorite, and when he catches wind of the ways the boys around campus are speaking about you, he decides to take it upon himself to remove the distraction, by having Carter trail you and give you detention for minor inconveniences. Carter isn't particularly thrilled at always having to send you to detention instead of extorting you to get his rocks off, but he's hoping maybe he'll get to 'monitor' detention one of these days.

Initially, Mr. Critch has you doing small tasks, writing lines or organizing things, but soon he starts to see the appeal. If you're a good student for the most part, he's determined to keep you good, and away from all the vermin in this school. If you're bad, he's had plenty of experience in taming brats. He's open with his sexual desires, it his growing affection for you that makes him struggle.

If you've stayed out too late and broke curfew, you can spend detention on your knees, suckling his cock into the late hours. Maybe you've been running around with Tyler. He'll make you lay down on his desk and deny you your climax over and over again, asking 'if not making you cum' is what that boy does to you, never fully satisfying you. He'll make you beg to finish, and to promise you'll be good from now on.

"Come on, repeat it. Tell me you'll be good now, that you won't bother with BOYS-" He annuciates with a thrust, "When you have a man right here, whose willing to take time out of his day to discipline you!" One the amorous session is over though, he definitely softens, trying to prove he's more than a boy in many ways, including good aftercare. He'll dress your limp form back up in your uniform and walk you get you a cup of water from the fountain. "Only ten minutes till your detention is over, dear. Just sit there, take some time to reflect on how you got here." His tone is demeaning, but as he pets your scalp, his touch is so feather-light. Don't expect is to last into the next day though.

[anxiousnerdwritings]

DC Comics Masterlist II

Headcanons

Yandere Barry Allen (general) [coming soon]

Yandere Bruce Wayne w/ Sibling!Reader He Adopted Himself (platonic)

Yandere Bruce Wayne w/ Ex-Wife!Reader (romantic) [coming soon]

Yandere Clark Kent w/ Kid!Reader who doesn’t like him (platonic) [coming soon]

Yandere Kory Anders/Starfire (general) [coming soon]

Yandere Ra’s al Ghul w/ Damian’s!Twin!Reader (platonic) [coming soon]

Blurbs/Imagines/Fics/ect

Entrapment [Yandere!Bruce Wayne w/ Ex-Wife!Reader](romantic/NSFW)

💕Love Letters💕

Yandere Damian Wayne to Jokerized!Twin!Reader [coming soon]

[yourhornysister]

WOAH THE ENDING...THE FLASHBACK BROKE MY HEART BUT ITS OKAY JASON AVENGED Y/N!!

And also so I can keep tabs on you to make sure you’re not kidnapped, he thought to himself, though he wisely kept that part to himself.

AWHH ROY IS SO SWEET :((

His heart leapt at the way she said it—soft, playful, perfect. But there was also a pang of guilt. He hated that she had to settle for fragments of him, for pieces instead of the whole. Still, he couldn’t help the warmth that spread through him at her acceptance, at the way she made even the smallest part of him feel special.

AWHH STOPPP THIS IS SO SAD AND WHOLESOME???AT THE SAME TIME???

Her heart swelled at his words, the tension in her chest easing as she leaned into him. For once, the city could wait. Tonight, he was hers, and that was all that mattered.

HEHEHEHE AHHH!!!!

Angel Pt.III

pairing*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Red Hood!Jason Todd X fem!reader

disclaimer*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ nsfw. 18+ content. MDNI. porn with plot. creampie. unprotected sex. phone sex(if you can call it that). oral(m!+f! receiving). our jaybird is tad bit obsessive and manipulative (mild yandere content). mild mask kink. praise. dacryphilia. fingering. mentions of domestic and child abuse. swearing. canon typical violence. crowbars. not proofread !

a/n*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Okay so here’s what was promised. It’s my first time writing smut so please let me know your thoughts in the comments. All flashbacks are in italics. Comment Reblog and Like

☆〜（ゝ。∂）

╰ ┈➤ Part I ➤ Part II

Y/N knew that Red Hood leaving would create a void in her life, but she hadn’t anticipated feeling so adrift. The excitement she once felt at the sight of the fridge filled with expensive groceries, imagining them cooking together, disappeared without a trace. A humorless chuckle escaped Y/N’s lips staring at the assortment of items he bought, wondering why he assumed she needed seven kinds of cheese, varieties she didn’t even know existed.

Despite her best efforts to keep herself busy, Y/N couldn’t ignore the emptiness growing inside her. Somehow, she found herself struggling to navigate everyday life with the listlessness weighing down on her, even her friends begun to notice. The void left by his absence grew more palpable with each passing day, leaving her longing for him to return. Why are you moping around like that? It’s not like he was your boyfriend or anything. A voice taunted her. He’ll be back before you know it, yet a hopeful voice reassured her. What if he won’t? What if he — no. I can’t think that. Y/N slapped her hands on cheeks to snap herself out of dismal train of thoughts. He’s strong, he’ll come back. He has to.

Her eyes found their little parcel he had left her. Exactly 15 minutes after Red Hood left, a parcel arrived for Y/N in the mail, much like the one she received a couple months back — though slightly larger. Unwrapping the brown paper around it was a shoebox with the words “Red’s Anti-Goon Starter Kit” written on it with permanent marker. Inside were several unusual items like tiny smoke bombs, a very potent possibly industrial strength taser, pepper sprays which Y/N was sure were banned sometime back and a flip phone. Accompanying these tools was another handwritten manual, meticulously detailing the operation of each item in the simplest language possible.

She couldn't help but marvel at the items before her. As she studied the contents of the kit, she felt the mix of gratitude and apprehension stirring within her. The things he gave her were unsettling, though thoughtful. Somehow it reminded her of an alley cat, who would get odd sorts of gifts for people who were nice to them. Y/N took out the phone and stashed the box under the couch because whenever Stephanie was over, she had a habit of snooping around the kitchen cabinets for snacks so it wouldn’t be the best place to put it. She plugged in the phone, noticing it appeared pristine with no contacts saved. She just assumed that the phone was for calling her without either of them getting tracked.

As days turned into weeks and then months, Y/N would often find herself staring at the phone, hoping the small screen to buzz to life. Leaning against her balcony railing as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, she drifted into a daze. Twirling strands of hair absentmindedly, her thoughts inevitably returned to him; wondering where he would be or if he’s eating well.

The apartment felt eerily quiet. With a sigh, Y/N pulled out the flip phone, scrolling through it for the nth time. The sleek and compact flip phone sported a soft pastel pink colour, the same shade of cotton candy with tiny shimmering Sanrio charms dangling from silver chains and the keypad adorned with dainty floral patterns that lit up with a soft pink glow when in use. The cover was embellished with rhinestones. Ever since she was young, Y/N had always harbored a fondness for cute things and this phone was something she had always longed for something like this since her middle school days.

Y/N wondered if he would call, glancing at it in anticipation. Time seemed to stretch on endlessly as her mind conjuring up various scenarios. And almost as if on cue, the phone illuminated with an unfamiliar number flashing on the screen. Y/N’s heart raced, nearly dropping the device in shock. Rushing to her bed, she hastily answered the call, her breath catching in her throat.

Relief washed over her as she was greeted by a very familiar voice on the other end, a wave of happiness flooding through her. Y/N's brain buzzed with a whirlwind of emotions. She hadn’t heard his voice in months. Her heart fluttered with a mix of joy and longing as she savored the sound of his voice. “Red,” she whispered softly with a smile on her face. “Yes. I did. Very much so, ”she confessed,“ How about you ?”

His response was immediate, filled with the same affection that had always warmed her heart. “More than you’d think,” his voice so crackled over the phone that Y/N almost thought she imagined it. She buried herself in the blankets wrapped around her, almost being feel his presence, as if he were right beside her rather than miles away. His tone was tender, leaving a strange sort of chill on her skin. In that moment, the distance between them seemed insignificant, eclipsed by what she felt.

“So, how’s that mission going? Any hope of returning soon?” She joked to lighten the mood of the conversation. “Sorry angel. This might take a while. I could only call you once throughout this whole thing and tonight was particularly tough. I just needed to hear your voice.” his voice seemed uncharacteristically vulnerable, casting a bittersweet shadow over their conversation. Y/N's heart ached with empathy as she listened to his words, realizing the sacrifices he had to make for Gotham. “I understand. Take your time and I’ll be here waiting for you.” Her voice a gentle reassurance across the airwaves.

There was a brief pause filled with unspoken sentiments and shared longing before he spoke again, his voice tinged with gratitude and affection ,“Fuck don’t do this to me angel. I swear I’ll drop everything and take the next flight to Gotham.”

Y/N’s lips curved into a smile as she let out a soft chuckle, “ As much as I would like that, your mission is important.” Her tone gentle yet firm. With those words, the burden of his duty weighing down on his shoulders felt a little lighter, buoyed by her unwavering spirit. He sighed in resignation, “I know I know but that doesn’t make it any easier. Y’know what angel? Forget it. Just keep talking. Anything, topic doesn’t matter. I just need to hear you.”

“Of course,” her heart swelled with tenderness at his request. I guess what people said about distance making the heart grow fonder was true. Despite the crackling static and interference, every word was like a soothing melody to him. After a point he lost track of what she was saying. Everything around him seemed melt away and was replaced with him, her voice and joy at its purest.

Y/N couldn’t help but notice the faint groans and whimpers on the other end of the line. She initially dismissed it as static but still decided to ask, “ Red are you okay?” Red Hood replied with a nervous cough, “ Wh-what? Yeah, I’m okay. Don’t worry. J-just don’t stop talking. Okay?” His voice was hoarse, and his breathing became noticeably choppier. Y/N was the least bit suspicious but still continued rambling on about the happenings of the cafe. “Though I still don’t get why you thought I needed so many different types of cheese.”

“I just read somewhere that women like cheese. You can make into a charcuterie board or something.” He answered casually, trying to stifle the soft moans slipping from his lips. Y/N paused, I could swear I heard moan. The only time people make such sounds are when they’re in pain or when they’re —

“Red, are you hurt?” she asked again cautiously. He hesitated for a moment, his breath catching in his throat, before reaffirming, “ N-no. I’m fine. Just dealing with stuff. That’s all.” His words came out oddly strained. “If you insist.” She sighed in resignation. There was a moment of silence on the other end before he let out a shaky exhale, “I should really get going. I’ll see you soon” And just like that the line went dead.

Y/N sat there, staring at her phone, her mind swirling with questions. It didn’t sound like he was with someone. Could he be —? Heat rose to her cheeks as images flashed through her mind. No no don’t think such things Y/N. She did suspect that her advances hadn’t gone entirely unnoticed by him. Well, it seems she’ll just have to make sure when he gets back.

Two more months flew by since the phone call and the frequency of thoughts about him had, albeit not much, diminished as she busied herself with work. As the last customer sipped the last of their latte and left— Y/N sighed, preparing to close up and head home. With Stephanie having to leave early because of a family emergency, Y/N found herself alone to shut down the shop. She wiped the espresso machine and counter tops clean once again, leaving them gleaming under the dim glow of the overhead lights. With each swipe, she removed any traces of the sticky spills and stray coffee grounds left behind by the bustling crowd, a farewell to the day’s countless cappuccinos and macchiatos. The hiss of steam escaping the machine, the gentle dripping of taps from the cleaning of the frothing wands, the screech of the chairs across the wooden floors — all seemed to reverberate a little louder than usual in the tranquil solitude. Flipping the closed sign gave her a sense of satisfaction, marking the end of yet another long day.

With a final glance around the now-empty café, Y/N flicked off the lights and locked the door. Outside, the evening sky had dimmed to a soft twilight, casting a warm glow through the café windows. The bat signal appeared in the sky above her, a small smile gracing her lips as she remembered Red Hood. It reminded her of the red bat insignia on his chest— a symbol known to strike fear into the hearts of all those that dare take advantage of the innocent but struck solace and warmth in hers. She hadn’t gotten far on her way home when she felt her purse vibrate. Y/N pulled out her phone and realized it was the flip phone that chimed. The phone could be used only once to contact Red Hood, and she knew she wouldn’t be receiving another call on it without compromising her safety, yet she carried it around as a tangible reminder of his promise.

With a sense of both apprehension and anticipation, she flipped open the phone to answer. However, this time, it wasn’t a call. It was a text message. The message contained a straightforward address located near the Narrows; a part of town Red Hood had specifically warned her to steer clear of. Y/N couldn’t help but feel skeptical about the ominous message. But what if it is him? Her fingers hovered over the SOS button on her necklace, a safety net if things took a turn for the worse.

Y/N remained alert as her footsteps echoed through the desolate streets, she felt a chill creeping up her spine which just felt all the more foreboding in the eerie stillness around her. Yet in that stillness — she could hear the insects buzzing around the flickering streetlights, the distant howls of stray dogs and the sounds coming from the seemingly abandoned buildings looming overhead, slowly building a palpable sense of déjà vu. Except this time, it was much more unsettling than the night she met him in the alley near her apartment. She could feel someone’s gaze burning holes into the back of her head, but she couldn’t tell if it was the product of her paranoid imagination or not.

Y/N looked over her shoulder but saw no one feeling her senses heightened by the creeping unease. She tried but couldn’t shake off the feeling that she was being watched but every nerve in her body remained on edge. Yet despite the trepidation suffusing in the air, she was driven to see this through the end. Y/N pulled out the flip phone and dial the number that Red Hood used to call her. Within moments, the faint chime of a ringing phone echoed somewhere nearby.

With her heart thudding against her chest, she followed the sound of the ringing phone. As she rounded a corner, the sound became cleared and clearer — a phone lying on top of cardboard boxes next to a dumpster, its neon screen lighting up in the darkness. She slowly approached the phone, hands trembling slightly as she reached out to pick it up. As her fingers touched the phone, she felt a sudden presence loom behind her. Before she could react, darkness enveloped her vision, silencing any screams that may have escaped her lips.

“Must you have incapacitated her so forcefully, Roy?”

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t have the luxury to serenade and take her for coffee before bringing her here. In case you didn’t notice Kory we have a stubborn son of a bitch bleeding out.”

“I noticed plenty but she’s a civilian, you know they’re… fragile. You ought to be more considerate Roy. I doubt he will take it well.”

“He was the one who asked me to bring her here in the first place.”

“Your funeral.”

“Well if this one doesn’t wake up soon there’ll be a funeral, just not mine. Should I get some water to pour on her?”

“Don’t even — hush I think she’s waking up.”

Y/N eyes fluttered open, the world around her seemed hazy and distant. The room in front of her danced in and out of focus, a ballet of blurred shapes and muted colours. The last thing she remembered was the events of the —. She shot up, immediately regretting it as she was hit by a head splitting migraine. Discomfort took over almost immediately when her eyes moved about, albeit slowly, taking in her surroundings properly now that her head was clearing up somewhat.

What she was able to take it, was one of few things. First, she was on a very comfortable couch with a blanket draped around her shoulders and secondly, two red heads in costumes staring at her curiously.

“You —,” she started, her throat feeling parched but still continued, “ Arsenal and Starfire? You’re Red’s friends.” Her words were careful, she pretended to not have overheard their conversation from before. She knew that she was better off not knowing the real identities of people like them. That’s why she never tried to take Red Hood’s helmet off. And though she would never admit it out loud to anyone else, but she knew having a mask kink in a place like of Gotham wasn’t the best idea.

Arsenal, or as his teammate called him, Roy exchanged a glance with Kory and spoke up first with a cocky smirk, “ You got that right princess. How’re ya feelin’?” Kory offered her a comforting smile, though her glowy neon eyes were somewhat intimidating to Y/N. She heard somewhere that Starfire was the alien princess of a faraway planet but never thought much of it. Nevertheless, she appreciated the effort Kory was making to appear friendly.

“Fine I guess.” The h/c haired woman forced a small smile, trying to ignore the twinge of pain around her neck and in her head. Roy chuckled, leaning back on the couch. “Thank fuck. If anything happened to his precious little darling, Hood would have me six feet under.” Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Red’s name, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “He talks about me?” she asked shyly.

“Uh No,” Roy began ,“I’d wager he planned on keeping you all to himself cuz y’know he’s not big on sharing and not that I don’t see why.” His grin held a flirtatious edge with his gaze subtly checking her up and down until Kory smacked his shoulder, making him to wince and drop his smile immediately. “Please don’t mind him,” she said with a gentle laugh, “He means well even though his words lack … finesse.”

Roy huffed, almost pouting, “ I’m right here y’know.” Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle at their banter, though the question about Red lingered in her mind. Meeting Arsenal and Starfire was pleasant, but there was someone else she longed to see. “Where is Red?” she finally asked, unable to suppress her curiosity. Roy’s eyes widened and Kory’s expression turned into a pained one. “Fuck I totally forgot about him. Come with me.” He exclaimed, jumping up from the couch and leading her urgently to the room. Red Hood lay on the stretcher in the center, clutching his side and softly groaning. Y/N’s breath hitched in horror as she rushed to his side. “Red ?” she asked, her voice trembling with concern. “Long time no see angel,” he mustered a light-hearted chuckle but despite his efforts she could almost see the grimace under his mask.

he mustered a light-hearted chuckle but despite his efforts she could almost see the grimace under his mask.

“We need to call a doctor!” She turned to Roy and Kory with panic lacing her tone. As vigilantes, she assumed they must have a designated doctor at their base, like in movies where such groups often had retired military personnel or medical prodigies in their ranks.

Roy clicked his tongue and sighed before stating matter-of-factly, “We did call a doctor.” Both of them glanced between Y/N and Red Hood. “I was the best you could find ?!” she exclaimed incredulously. It seemed unbelievable given the seriousness of Red Hood's condition. While she had patched up a few wounds before, her last operation had been back in med school and even then, it was her teacher performing it on a cadaver.

He shrugged apologetically, understanding the gravity of the situation. “We’re stretched thin right now. Plus, you’re the one he asked for,” he admitted.

“You want to put his life in the hands of a med school dropout ?!” Y/N asked rhetorically. “You’re a dropout?” Kory blinked in surprise. “He didn’t tell you?” The h/c haired woman gasped incredulously. All three pairs of eyes turned accusingly towards Red Hood. He shifted uncomfortably under their gazes, tense with unease. “It's not like that," Jason began, but Y/N interrupted him with a pointed look, crossing her arms, “Not like what? That you failed to mention you were relying on someone with minimal experience?” Her tone tinged with frustration.

“Can we do this later doll? Kinda dying here.” He coughed out, followed by a pained groan. Y/N felt a lump form in her throat and his discomfort grew almost palpable. Despite still being visibly distressed, her expression softened slightly — not being able to bear to see him in pain like this. “Fine,” she relented, steadying her panic and her concern breaking through her annoyance, “Let's focus on getting through this first.” With a nod of agreement, Kory and Roy turned their attention back to the task at hand. “We need to stabilize him until we can get him to a real qualified medical practitioner,” Y/N stated eyeing him accusingly. Jason let out a small sigh, relieved to momentarily escape the interrogation, though he could feel his consciousness slipping away from the blood loss.

“Stay with us bud.” Roy tapped his helmet. Jason’s grip on his consciousness was tenuous but still he nodded with labored breaths, fighting against the pull of exhaustion as they worked frantically to stabilize him. Y/N quickly immersed herself into the task, seizing the bag of sterilized equipment in the team’s med bay.

“Take off his armour.” Kory’s hands worked nimbly through Jason’s armour. It took her less than a minute to dismantle everything. The three worked in a manner that felt almost choreographed with their intent clear – to save their friend.

The skin of Red Hood’s torso marked was network of scars and red splotches. Y/N knew that for someone like him, injuries were inevitable and so were the scars they left behind. There were minor ones that resembled cigarette burns and larger ones that were angry red ones from fire or acid. She recognised some of the slashes as the ones she stitched herself. She recalled that Red Hood, probably not wanting her to see his wounds, would always pull his shirt back down as soon as she finished sewing. As someone who grew up in the rough part of town, she was no stranger to scars so she didn’t feel repulsed by them, rather she felt a sense of awe for the man who did everything in his power to make Gotham a better place. People admired the bat vigilantes sure, but not all knew just how tough it actually was, honestly Y/N didn’t know if she understood either but one thing, she knew was that Red Hood was worth every ounce of respect he commanded with each scar being the testament of the storms he weathered.

However, one scar particularly stood out to her, probably the biggest one. The raised ridges in shape of a Y travelling from his collarbones to his abdomen. Y/N felt her stomach lurch, she had seen that shape in medical book several times but never on a living person. Maybe it was some sicko who carved it onto him during one of his missions, she tried to convince herself but in the back of her head she knew that it was too prominent to be just skin deep.

“Y/N?” Roy’s voice broke her reverie, snapping her back to reality. Y/N quickly looked away, realizing she had been staring. “Turn him over. We need to remove the bullet first,” she instructed Kory and Roy. You can't afford to space out like that, she mentally scolded herself. Refocusing, she pushed aside her distractions. The blood had soaked through the first aid bandage, tainting the sheets crimson under him. “This might hurt. Do you have anaesthesia?” She inquired. Roy shook his head sheepishly, “We don’t keep that, but we do have booze, a leather belt to bite onto and horse tranquilizers. Would any of that work?” Y/N gaped at him incredulously. “Perhaps not,” Roy muttered, searching the room for alternatives. “Just go ahead without it,” Red Hood rasped, his voice barely audible. “But—” Y/N began in protest. “I don’t need it and besides you’d kiss it better, wouldn’t you angel?” he joked. Her face broke into a smile seeing his bravado still intact.

Y/N couldn't help but chuckle softly at his remark, appreciating his attempt to lighten the tense situation. “As you wish,” her tone softened with affection and partly from being impressed by his resilience. Taking a deep breath, she steadied her hands and began the task of removing the bullet from the injured area with utmost caution and care. Despite the lack of anaesthesia, Jason endured the discomfort stoically only to wince ever so slightly, not wanting to cause Y/N any more distress. Kory and Roy could only watch in awe as she worked with exceptional finesse. Regardless of what Y/N said, Roy could tell that she was far more skilled than she admitted to being. Maybe calling her wasn’t that bad of an idea after all.

Gotham city was a place where shadows stretched endlessly, the skyscrapers piercing the skies like jagged edges of broken glass cutting through the darkness. It offered a stark contrast to the labyrinth of impoverished and gritty streets of the Narrows.

Poverty, desperation and every other negative emotion to man was pervasive with the social fabric frayed under the weight of corruption and systemic injustice. And when it rained, the sound of the fresh water striking the flimsy roofs of the dilapidated buildings carried a sense of morbid irony - a reminder of despite how the city was plagued by perpetual rainfall, there were those who still struggled to get access to drinking water. But even then, the rainwater was far from fresh considering the untreated chemicals the industries pumped into the air of Gotham. Water was turned to acid and people’s hearts and minds to poison.

After working a long and tiring shift, Y/N stepped out the back door to dispose of the leftovers amidst the rain threatening to soak her cheap and scratchy waitress uniform. As she approached the dumpster, she heard movement and craned her neck to see what it was. “Jase?” she called out. In a moment’s notice, the boy crawled from under the empty cardboard box with his face lighting up when he saw her. Y/N’s eyes widened as she noticed the boy drenched head to toe and sporting a huge blue-black bruise across his cheek and eye.

“How did this happen?” She asked gently caressing his cheek and guiding him out of the rain. After their first meeting, 14-year-old Y/N formed an unlikely friendship with the elementary schooler. The boy recoiled from her touch and averted his gaze. She sighed, “Willis is having one of his episodes again?” Jason’s expression turned solemn, and he nodded slowly, “Mom told me to stay at the neighbor’s for the night but the neighbor was being weird and handsy, so I ran away.”

“Well let’s get you something to eat and that treated,” Y/N pointed at his black eye and continued, “I’ll call Catherine and let her know you’ll staying with me for the night, but we need to go home for that. Lucky for you, my shift just ended.”

“Don’t you have a phone?” Jason asked curiously. Since everyone he knew who had a job had a phone, it simply made sense that she would as well. “Ain’t got the kind of money for that kiddo. But if I did, I’d probably buy those cute flip phones. You know the cutesy ones with the flower pattern, rhinestones and crystal chains?”

“But they’re so —” his nose wrinkled in revulsion making Y/N laugh at his cute expression, “ Girly?” She made a guess, and he slowly nodded. “Well, I am a girl,” She patted his head but as soon as her hand touched his forehead, she withdrew it with a gasp, “ My god, Jase you’re burning up!”

“It’s nothing.” The boy muttered. Y/N shook her head firmly, “Pardon me but it’s not exactly convincing coming from someone who looks like a sopping wet cat. We’re going home no buts, you hear me?” Jason hesitated, torn between his discomfort and not wanting to burden Y/N. He knew her situation wasn’t much different from his own, and he couldn’t keep taking advantage of her kindness. “I-I’ll be okay. I don’t need your help.” he insisted but a dizzy spell from his raging fever hit him just as he spoke. Y/N caught him quickly, her expression leaving no room for argument. She crouched down, motioning for him to get on her back. “Get on. I’ll take you home,” she said. Jason complied without resistance. “I’m heavy you know,” he remarked. Y/N blew out a laugh as she stood back up. “And I’m stronger than I look you know.”

She draped her raincoat over both of them and carried him home, her steps steady despite the added weight. She could feel Jason’s fever rising, she kept talking to him trying to keep him awake despite his half-slurred responses in his fever-induced haze.

Much to her relief, it was Y/N’s mom that answered the door. “Is that Jason?” Her mom asked and Y/N nodded, gently placing him on the couch and explaining the situation. Her mother's gaze darted between her daughter and the boy; her expression filled with concern. “Y/N you can’t keep doing this.”

“Mom please he’s just a boy —”

“He is not your responsibility. He has his parents for that. You need to learn to be more selfish, this is the Narrows not the diamond district. If your father finds him —”

“He won’t.” Y/N answered in a clipped voice. Jason couldn’t help but feel guilty, it was clear that her mother wasn’t going to help, and he understood why. Both of them knew that all too well that Y/N was too kind for her good and insisted on helping despite the fact that they themselves were barely getting by. Despite his state, he could feel the tension in the air. He felt like an intruder, burdening Y/N and her family with his problems.

“The bathroom’s over there. Go change,” Y/N instructed, her voice firm but not unkind. She set a clean set of clothes down beside Jason and draped a towel over his shoulders. Her movements were practical, efficient, but there was a softness in the way she cared for him that didn’t go unnoticed. Y/N’s mother stood leaning against the kitchen doorway, her arms crossed as she watched Y/N heat up a glass of milk on the stove. Her expression was a mix of frustration and concern.

“What’s with this kid, anyway?” her mother remarked, her voice tinged with exasperation. “Feeding a stray cat or dog every now and then is one thing, but this… this is too much. We can’t afford this.”

Y/N’s hands stilled for a moment, her grip tightening on the glass. She took a deep breath before turning to face her mother, her eyes steady but filled with emotion. “Then what do you want me to do, Mom? Send him back to his abusive father and just let him—” Her voice faltered, catching in her throat as the weight of her words hit her. She paused, swallowing hard before continuing, her voice quieter but no less determined. “I can’t do much about my own life, but at least I can help him.”

Her mother’s gaze hardened, her lips pressing into a thin line. “So is that what this is? Pity?” she questioned, her tone sharp and probing.

“Call it whatever you want. It doesn’t matter to me,” Y/N said, brushing past her mother with a tray in hand. She set it down on the bedside table next to Jason, who sat hunched under a blanket, his face pale and drawn. She poured a dose of medicine onto a spoon and held it out to him, but he turned his head away, his expression clouded with hurt. “I don’t need your pity,” he muttered, his voice low and strained.

Y/N lowered the spoon, exhaling slowly as she felt the weight of his words settle in her chest. Her heart ached, realizing that her intentions might not be coming across the way she had hoped. “It’s not pity, Jase,” she said gently, setting the spoon aside. She sat down on the edge of the bed beside him, searching for the right words. She knew the sting of being pitied all too well, and the last thing she wanted was to make him feel that way.

“I hate the Narrows,” she began, her voice quiet but firm. “Every single inch of it.” Jason stayed silent, his eyes fixed on her, waiting for her to go on. “You heard what my mom said, and I get it—she means well. But I refuse to be selfish. I just can’t. Because everyone here is. The adults? They only care about themselves. So it’s up to us—the kids—to look out for each other, you know?”

Jason nodded slowly, his guarded expression easing slightly as he listened. Y/N felt a flicker of relief, grateful that he seemed willing to hear her out.

“It’s like… we’re all we’ve got,” she continued, her voice growing stronger as she spoke. “Everyone expects us to turn out just like them—selfish, bitter, and broken. And if I give in to that, if I stop caring, then how am I any different from the people I can’t stand? So no, Jason, this isn’t pity. I’m doing this for you, but I’m also doing it for me. I won’t let myself get trapped in this cycle. I’m going to break out of here—someday.”

Jason studied her for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. “So you’re being nice out of spite?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile faintly at his question. “Maybe a little,” she admitted. “But mostly, I’m being nice because it’s the right thing to do. And because I don’t want to become someone I hate.” She paused, her gaze steady on his. “You don’t have to trust me, Jase. But I’m not going to stop trying to help you. Not because I feel sorry for you, but because I think you’re worth it.” Y/N booped Jason’s nose making lips curve into a half-smile. “You’re very weird. But ... in a good way.” His response made her own smile grow wider. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Now, be a good sport and take your medicine.”

Jason’s face scrunched up in distaste as he eyed the spoonful of medicine in her hand. “But that’s too bitter. I don’t like medicine,” he complained, his bottom lip forming an adorable pout. Y/N rolled her eyes before sighing softly, “ Well who does. You know what? Fine, lemme cut you a deal. You eat this and I’ll read you a bedtime story. How does that sound?” The boy contemplated the offer for a moment before opening his mouth reluctantly, his expression shifting from defiance to resignation. Y/N didn’t spare a moment before feeding the medicine, his face contorted into a grimace but swallowed it down, nonetheless. Handing him a glass of warm milk, she added,” I added extra sugar in this. This should help.”

Jason accepted the glass of milk with a grateful nod, a welcome relief from the bitterness of the medicine. He took a sip, savoring the comforting warmth spreading through him.

“Thanks Y/N,” he murmured, his voice muffled by the rim of the glass. Y/N smiled warmly at him, her heart swelling with affection. “You're welcome, Jase. Just remember, sometimes we have to do things we don't like for our own good,” she reminded him gently.

The boy scooted closer to her, resting his head against her shoulder as he continued sipping the glass of milk she had given him. Y/N had always been there for Jason, she was the one person who would always make all his problems disappear into oblivion. Her presence was a sanctuary from the Narrows’ harsh realities, a dream he never wished to wake up from. It was probably the only time in life he felt entirely safe and loved. “Now let’s get on with that bedtime story. Yeah?” she suggested.

Jason nodded eagerly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he lied down on the bed, pulling the blanket closer to him. “Well, I don’t have a lot of kids’ storybooks lying around but I can read to you this one of my current favorites.” Jason didn’t mind, in all honestly considering his fever, he doubted he’d retain much of the story anyway, it was the soothing cadence of her voice that he craved. “What’s it called?” He asked.

“Pride and Prejudice. It’s by Jane Austen”

Jason's mouth formed an 'o' shape, unfamiliar with the title. Y/N hadn't expected him to recognize it either. Literacy rates in the Narrows were less than ideal and she didn't know anyone who willingly picked up a book, let alone a classic.

Despite his lack of familiarity with the title and the plot, he listened intently as Y/N began to read. Though some of the nuances of the story may have been lost on him, regardless he relished the opportunity to escape into this world that Y/N liked so much. He observed the small smile that graced her face when she mentioned a particular character. “Y/N?” he called out. Y/N tore her gaze from the book and met his eyes with a hum of acknowledgment. “Hmm?”

“Do you like this Mr. Darcy?”

Y/N’s expression turned pensive as she considered Jason’s question. “Well, Mr. Darcy is a complex character,” she began, her voice reflecting her fondness for the literary figure. “He may seem kind of a jerk at first, but as the story unfolds, you'll see there's more to him than meets the eye.”

Jason felt intrigued by Y/N's insights. He could sense her genuine affection for the character. He knew that Y/N didn't have a boyfriend so often he couldn't help but wonder about her preferences in men. “— I just find his character development fascinating. And of course, there's the fact that he’s rich. Like really really rich.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, “You like rich men?”

“I mean, who doesn't love financial security?” she replied with a shrug before continuing, “ I have two game plans for the future — either become rich myself or marry into wealth.”

The boy nodded, processing her words thoughtfully. “But aren't most rich men sleazeballs?” he interjected, curious about her perspective. “Well then, I guess I'll have to find someone who's at least agreeable. And when I say rich, I mean like —” she trailed off, searching for the right words considering how redundant of a topic this was for discussion with an elementary schooler.

“Mr. Darcy rich?” Jason guessed, eliciting a hearty laugh from Y/N.

“That's what I want. A huge penthouse at the top of a hotel, wearing luxurious clothes every day, receiving pretty flowers and indulging in gourmet delicacies like that wooden board thingy with different types of cheese, bread and grapes,” Y/N added, propping her hand against her chin and sighing dreamily. “Dunno what it's called but l've seen it in a magazine,” Jason remarked. He couldn't help but smile at her response, struck by her clear vision of the ideal lifestyle.

Y/N closed the book with a soft thud, placing it on the bedside table to signal the end of their reading session. “But that’s a conversation for another time. It’s late, and you should get some rest,” she said, her tone gentle but firm.

Jason, who had been ready to protest, hesitated at the quiet authority in her voice. Recognizing there was no point in arguing, he gave in with a slow nod. He tugged the blankets tighter around himself, shifting to the other side of the bed as he prepared to settle in for the night.

As Y/N reached the door, Jason’s voice stopped her. “Y/N, wait—just one more thing.” She turned back to see his face peeking out from the cocoon of blankets, his expression curious. “Yes?” she asked, pausing in the doorway.

Jason hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words, before finally asking, “If a guy is rich, nice, and good-looking… would you marry him?”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, a warm, genuine smile spreading across her face. “Go to sleep, Jason,” she said, shaking her head as she stepped out of the room. Her laughter lingered in the air behind her, leaving the question unanswered. Little did Jason know, as he lay there in the quiet of the night, that her response—or lack thereof—had sparked something in him. That night, he found his aspirations for the future, though he couldn’t quite put them into words just yet.

Jason Todd was no stranger to waking up in excruciating pain after a particularly grueling mission. This time was no different. As consciousness slowly returned, agony was the first thing he registered, sharp and unrelenting. The last thing he could recall was Y/N bent over him, carefully operating to remove a bullet, and the searing pain of her incisions cutting through his flesh. He guessed he must have triggered vasovagal syncope—a reflex that causes blood pressure and heart rate to plummet, leading to fainting as the body’s way of shielding itself from overwhelming stress or pain.

A small part of him felt almost insulted by it. He’d been trained to endure, to stay conscious through the worst of it. But maybe the endless sleepless nights, the relentless pursuit of his target, had finally taken their toll. Jason had left Gotham months ago with one goal: to dismantle Black Mask’s overseas drug operations. Base after base, lead after lead, he’d chased the trail for six exhausting months, only to end up back on the outskirts of Gotham.

Black Mask and his men had set a trap, one that caught Jason and his team off guard until it was almost too late. They’d used civilians as bait, forcing Jason into a corner. In the chaos, he’d managed to take down two of Black Mask’s top generals, but not without cost. A bullet had found its mark, leaving him wounded and vulnerable in the crossfire.

His eyes struggled to get into focus, blinking several times as he continued looking at the ceiling, it was a familiar one. The one at the outlaws’ base. He exhaled softly, his throat dry and aching, due to the lack of a much-needed drink. Regardless that was nothing compared to the pain coursing through his body, the sources varied, spreading like fire to his nerves. As the initial wave of pain subsided, he became more aware of his surroundings, he felt a weight on his leg. He turned his head and saw her.

Y/N L/N, in all her quiet grace, was asleep with her cheek resting gently against his thigh. Her hair, tied into a loose bun earlier, had partially come undone, strands falling softly around her face. She looked as beautiful as ever, though the faint dark circles under her eyes hinted at the sleepless nights she’d endured lately. Yet, despite the fatigue, her expression was serene, almost ethereal, radiating a sweetness that reminded Jason of something divine—like an angel, if he believed in such things. It struck him that this was the first time he’d ever seen her sleep like this, so peaceful and unguarded.

Hesitantly, he reached out, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face, his touch feather-light so as not to disturb her. He froze when she stirred slightly, but instead of waking, she nuzzled closer to his hand, her face softening further in her sleep. At that moment, Jason felt something shift inside him, a warmth spreading through his chest that he couldn’t quite explain. It was as if his heart had melted into something unrecognizable, something tender and fragile.

Jason had long since turned his back on religion. Given the life he’d lived and the things he’d done, he was certain there was a special place in hell reserved just for him. He’d never given much thought to angels or divinity, convinced he’d never know what they truly looked like. But in that moment, as he watched Y/N sleep, he felt as though he was staring at something sacred. She embodied the purity and grace of every scripture, every gospel, every story of goodness he’d ever heard. And for the first time in a long time, Jason felt something akin to hope—or maybe even redemption.

She stirred awake slowly, the sensation of a calloused hand brushing lightly against her cheek and neck pulling her from sleep. “Red?” she murmured, her voice thick with drowsiness. The sound of her voice caught Jason off guard, his breath hitching as it pulled him out of his thoughts and back into the quiet reality they shared.

“Mornin’, doll,” he greeted softly, his voice rough and scratchy but warm. She hummed in response, instinctively leaning into his touch, her face nuzzling closer to his hand. Just as she was about to drift back into sleep, the memories of everything that had happened rushed back to her, jolting her fully awake. Y/N sat up abruptly, her eyes wide with alarm, and without thinking, she threw her arms around his broad shoulders, pulling him close. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispered, her voice trembling. Her chest rose and fell with quiet sobs, the relief she’d been holding back finally spilling over.

Jason understood that witnessing someone close suffer a severe injury like his could be profoundly unsettling for someone not accustomed to such dangers. Though taken aback, he returned her embrace, caressing her hair with a tenderness he didn't realize he possessed.

As Y/N held onto him tightly, he felt a surge of emotion welling up inside him. The pain throbbing through his body long forgotten as he continued holding her close to him. Her presence was all comfort he needed. Jason was a man of many talents unfortunately comforting people wasn’t one of them, at least so he thought. “Shh it's okay, sweetheart. I’m okay. I swear,” he murmured, rubbing small circles on her back soothingly.

Y/N sniffled against his chest, her tears dampening the fabric of his shirt. She slowly pulled away, “I was so scared.” He brushed a stray tear from the corner of her eye, his touch filled with unspoken promises and reassurance. Jason’s heart ached at the sight of Y/N’s tear-stained face, his own emotions mirroring hers. Despite his usual stoicism, he found himself struggling to find the right words to comfort her in this moment of vulnerability.

“I know angel,” he whispered softly, his voice barely above a breath. “‘m here now and I’m not going anywhere.” Yet despite her initial relief, her eyes betraying the lingering distress. He knew the storm of emotions was far from over. “Red we need to talk,” the tone of her voice spoke volumes of the impending conversation they would have about his recklessness.

Jason's heart sank at the seriousness in Y/N's tone. He knew that if he wasn’t careful with this, it could drive a rift between them and scare her off for good, something that he considered an absolute non-option. Nodding solemnly, he met her gaze,“I know,” he replied quietly. “Let's talk.”

As they settled into a tense silence, Jason braced himself for the worst. “Red, I don't think I can keep doing this. You should really hire someone more qualified as your doctor,” Y/N continued, her words filled with concern. Despite her relief at seeing him alright, she was painfully aware of the potential dangers of their situation. The possibility of a misstep, such as making an incision in the wrong place or nicking an artery, weighed heavily on her conscious. Jason felt a knot tighten in his stomach at her almost palpable distress, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for putting her in such a precarious position. “Please don't put your life in my hands like that again. I- I don't think I can take it.” Her bottom lip quivered with emotion and her eyes grew glossier.

Reaching out, he gently cupped her face with his hand. “You won't have to do something like that again,” he vowed earnestly. There was a pause after his words where neither of them knew what to say. “But I can still crash at your place, yeah?” he added playfully with a hint of hope.

Y/N's serious expression broke into a smile, “Of course.”

Their moment was interrupted by a cough, and they turned to see Roy leaning against the door with a smirk. “As much as I hate interrupting your canoodling sesh, l gotta borrow Hood for a moment. Do you mind Y/ N?”

Y/N pulled away from Jason's touch with a jerk before hastily getting up and leaving the room, her cheeks flushed with furious blush of embarrassment. “Cute,” Roy's smirk turned into a full-blown grin as he watched her walk out, then turned back to Jason, who was not amused in the slightest.

Jason shot Roy a stern look, his irritation evident. “What?” he said, his tone clipped. Roy Harper had been his ride or die for a very long time now, mostly because his plans were often high-risk high return and to be conducted by higher trained individuals with dubious moral compasses - two of them being himself and Roy. And one could say Jason trusted him with his life and had done so many times. But as of now asphyxiation seemed like a very tempting plan.

Despite wearing his trademark helmet, Jason’s sharp scowl didn’t escape Roy’s notice, but he chose to ignore it. Instead, he sat down on the bed with barely concealed mirth and curiosity in eyes, like that of a schoolgirl talking gossip with her girlfriends. “Y’know Jaybird I’m kinda sad. You got a girlfriend and such a hot one at that and didn’t tell me? And here I thought we pinkie promised to tell each other our secrets when we braided each other’s hair and painted our nails at Lian and the outlaws’ slumber party.” he teased with faux sadness.

Jason rolled his eyes, trying to suppress a smile despite himself. Roy always had a way of lightening the mood. “Just forget it,” he insisted, though his tone lacked conviction. “Y/N’s not my girlfriend. Not yet, at least,” he began, unsure of how to approach the topic. Roy raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying Jason’s attempt to downplay the situation. “Uh-huh sure whatever you say buddy,” he remarked, his playful demeanor unwavering.

“You were out for a like two days, so I took the liberty to make my acquaintance with our lovely Y/N. I already know how you folks met and all. So, I’ll start asking the real questions. What’s the plan ? ” Roy asked vaguely.

“What are you talking about?” Jason replied, playing dumb. Roy leaned in closer, his usual playful grin replaced by a more serious expression. “Come on, Jay. You and I both know you don’t actually need a doctor. We’ve stitched ourselves up plenty of times, and if it’s really bad, there’s always Alfred. So, there’s only one reason you’re keeping her around. You want an excuse to keep her close without her figuring out what you’re really up to.” Jason’s carefully constructed facade didn’t last long under Roy’s sharp observation, and it wasn’t long before the truth began to show through.

“Do you think I’m agreeable?” He asked. Roy’s brows furrowed in confusion at the odd question, but he decided to play along, “Uh yeah, I guess? What’s that gotta do with this?” Jason shook his head dismissively, waving off his question. He slumped back against the headboard and sighed heavily, wincing slightly from the pain of his injury. “Look let’s just say it’s easier for me to get her to accept gifts and stuff if she thinks she saved my life. And well she did.”

Roy's confusion deepened as he tried to make sense of Jason's words. “That bullet wound wouldn't have killed you,” he pointed out, stating the obvious.

“No. But abuse would have. Starvation would have. Disease would have. Neglect would have. The Narrows would have. She didn't let it. She saved me and continued to save me again and again. For years.” Jason's response was solemn. His voice softened to a whisper as he reminisced what were probably the only good memories of his childhood.

Roy’s eyes widened as the pieces fell into place. “You two have history,” he stated, not bothering to wait for Jason’s confirmation before diving into his next question. “So, what is this? Some kind of childhood sweethearts thing?”

Jason shifted uncomfortably, struggling to find the right words to explain without making it sound awkward. Roy, meanwhile, held up his hand, counting on his fingers as if doing some quick math, his face scrunched in confusion. “Wait, she’s older than you, right? How does that even work?”

“Uh well. It is childhood love, just one sided and —“ Jason began, but Roy cut him off with a scandalized gasp. “Ain't no way dude ! So that's why you asked me and Kory to make sure she doesn't find out your identity. You know she'd never let you hit it if she knew you were the same snotty-nosed brat she babysat or some shit.”

Jason shot him a glare, his scowl deepening at Roy’s crude phrasing. “I’m not just ‘trying to hit it,’ Roy. I’m in love with her,” he snapped, though deep down, he knew his best friend wasn’t entirely wrong—even if he didn’t appreciate the bluntness of the delivery.

For a moment, he was speechless. In all the years he’d known Jason, love had never seemed to be a priority. Jason was always more focused on his missions, his goals, his vendettas—matters of the heart rarely, if ever, made the list. Seeing him so openly and sincerely lovesick was unexpected, to say the least.

“Dang, Jay,” Roy finally said, his tone a mix of disbelief and pride. “I always knew you’d get there someday. But man, I should’ve seen this coming. You’re absolutely down bad for her.”

Jason’s scowl deepened at Roy’s teasing, his irritation flaring. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he shot back, his voice defensive.

“I mean, I had my suspicions ever since I heard you getting all… worked up to the sound of some girl telling you about her day. Y’know, like a few months back?” Roy said, his grin widening.

Jason’s eyes narrowed in surprise. “How did you—” he started, but Roy cut him off with a casual shrug. “You forgot to mute the comms,” he stated matter-of-factly. “But don’t worry. Kory was asleep and didn’t have her comms in. She didn’t hear a thing.”

Jason groaned, running a hand over his face. “So you’re telling me you didn’t have the decency to, I don’t know, not eavesdrop on a private moment?” he retorted, his annoyance clear.

Roy shrugged again, his expression still unapologetic. “Hey, it’s not like I was trying to snoop,” he insisted, though his tone lacked any real remorse. “I was just about to crash when I heard this cheerful voice coming through the comms, and, well… I ended up hearing the whole thing. Total accident, I swear.”

Jason narrowed his eyes, his skepticism obvious. “Sure, Roy,” he said dryly, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “Because accidentally overhearing something like that is totally normal.”

Roy raised his hands in mock surrender, a grin tugging at his lips. “Alright, alright, maybe I should’ve given you some privacy,” he admitted, though his tone was far from sincere. “But come on, Jay. If it had been a mutual thing, I would’ve backed off immediately. No questions asked—that’s private and all. But it was just you, so I figured, hey, that’s fair game.”

Jason let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head at Roy’s weak justification. “Fair game? Seriously?” he exclaimed, his voice tinged with disbelief. “It’s not like I haven’t seen your—” He gestured vaguely toward Roy’s body, his words trailing off. “And let’s not forget, you didn’t give a rat's ass about privacy when you were fucking that model girl five feet away from me and Starfire at the iceberg lounge.”

He winced as the memory resurfaced but, in his defense, she was undeniably attractive and he had been as intoxicated as his metabolism allowed him to be. He reasoned with himself that it was simply a momentary lapse in judgment, a product of the stress and frustration from the mission. “Anyways 'nuff about that. Let's talk about Y/N.” Much to Jason's relief, Roy dismissed the topic eager to shift the conversation back to the original topic. “You're serious about her, yeah ?”

“Absolutely,” Jason replied without hesitation, his voice firm and resolute. Despite the complications of their situation, his commitment to her was unwavering.

Roy leaned forward, his expression turning more serious. “So, what do you plan to do when she finds out the truth?” he asked, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.

The question gave Jason pause, forcing him to confront the reality he’d been carefully avoiding. He hesitated, his mind racing as he weighed his words. “Well, I—” he began, swallowing hard as a hint of vulnerability crept into his voice. “I’m hoping to build our relationship enough that we can work through it when the time comes.”

“So, no plan?” Roy pressed, his tone skeptical as he sought a clearer answer.

Jason’s gaze faltered for a moment, his confidence wavering. “I mean, I haven’t mapped out all the details yet,” he admitted, “but I’ve thought about it. I’ve got a few ideas.”

“Like securing yourself as her sugar daddy so she’ll be too attached to let you go?” Roy quipped, rolling his eyes as he remembered how Jason had been mysteriously draining their funds lately. But then it hit him—when he’d spoken to Y/N, she hadn’t mentioned anything about receiving gifts or money from Jason.

“Well, yes and no,” Jason admitted, his tone a mix of defensiveness and honesty. “I’ve been sending her three grand every month, and I’ve been keeping an eye on her bank account. But she hasn’t spent a single cent of it. The only money she’s used is what she won from our video game bets.”

Roy raised an eyebrow, nodding slowly. “Huh, so she’s not after the money. That’s cool,” he said casually. Jason shot him a sharp glare, and Roy quickly cleared his throat, backtracking. “I mean, not that I ever thought she was. But if she’s not spending your money, that could mean one of three things: one, she’s just a natural saver; two, she’s saving up for something big and specific, like a one-way ticket out of Gotham; or three, she’s planning to give it all back to you.”

Jason scoffed, his voice carrying a subtle but unmistakable edge of possessiveness.

Roy’s brow furrowed, caught off guard by the tone. “Let her what? Return the money or leave?” he asked, his concern growing as he recognized something familiar in Jason’s voice—a determination he’d heard before, but this time, it lacked the usual rage and vengeance. Instead, there was a darker, more intense undercurrent.

“Both,” Jason stated firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Roy’s unease deepened at Jason’s unwavering declaration. The gravity of the situation was starting to sink in, and a sense of dread crept over him. Please don’t let it be what I think it is, he silently prayed to whatever gods might be listening. Gathering his courage, he took a deep breath and spoke up. “Jason, I need to ask you something.”

“Go ahead,” Jason replied, his expression unreadable.

“What if she rejects you?” Roy asked cautiously, his tone measured as he braced himself for Jason’s reaction. The air between them grew heavier, the tension almost palpable. Jason fell silent, his expression thoughtful as he considered the question. After a moment, he replied, “Well, I’ve got a secure penthouse. It’s furnished with everything she likes.”

Roy’s eyes narrowed, his concern deepening as he processed Jason’s words. He pressed his lips together, rubbing his forehead as a knot of unease tightened in his chest. “Is that why you’ve been blowing through all that money? To set up some kind of gilded dollhouse to keep her in, just in case she tries to leave you?”

Jason’s demeanor shifted, a flicker of discomfort crossing his face before he quickly masked it. “It’s not like that,” he insisted, though his voice lacked conviction. Roy’s skepticism didn’t waver, his gaze sharp and probing as he stared Jason down.

“I asked you what you’d do if Y/N doesn’t want anything to do with you, and your first thought is kidnapping her? Jason, this isn’t how any of this works!” Roy’s voice rose in disbelief, his worry spilling over before he caught himself. He glanced toward the living room, where Kory and Y/N were, and quickly lowered his tone, realizing the risk of being overheard. The depth of Jason’s attachment to Y/N was becoming alarmingly clear, and it left Roy deeply unsettled.

Jason’s jaw tightened, his expression hardening as he met Roy’s gaze. “You’re making it sound worse than it is,” he said, his voice low and defensive. “It’s not about trapping her. It’s about making sure she’s safe, that she has everything she needs. If she doesn’t want me… fine. But I’m not going to let her walk away without knowing she’s taken care of.”

Roy shook his head, his frustration evident. “Jason, you’re not hearing yourself. This isn’t about taking care of her—it’s about control. You’re so scared of losing her that you’re planning for the worst-case scenario instead of just… I don’t know, talking to her. Being honest. Letting her decide what she wants.”

Jason looked away, his shoulders tense. “You don’t understand. It’s not like I want to do it. It’s just a contingency plan for the worst-case scenario,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t lose her, Roy. Not again.”

Roy let out a frustrated scoff, his words sharp and cutting. “You Bats and your goddamn contingencies! Listen, Jay, Y/N is a civilian—and a really good person. You don’t pull this kind of crap with people like her. Or with anyone, for that matter.” His disapproval was clear, his voice firm as he laid into Jason.

“At least she’s not a villain,” Jason shot back, his exasperation bubbling over as he tried to justify himself.

Roy’s eyes narrowed, and he jabbed a finger at Jason in warning. “Don’t bring the mother of my child into this,” he said sharply, his tone leaving no room for argument.

He dropped his hand and let out a heavy sigh, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. Roy knew all too well how stubborn Jason could be, and arguing with him often felt like talking to a brick wall. Still, he wasn’t ready to give up. “Look, if you want to win her over, start with flowers and dinners, y’know—green flag stuff,” Roy suggested, his tone softening as he tried to steer Jason toward a better approach. “The way to a woman’s heart is through genuine, romantic gestures—not through some creepy forced captivity. You read romance novels, for crying out loud. You should know this!”

“Like I said, it’s just a worst-case scenario. And yes, dinners and flowers are exactly how I plan to start,” Jason replied, his arms crossed as he spoke slowly and deliberately, as if explaining something to a child.

Roy nodded, feeling a small measure of relief at Jason’s reassurance. “Good,” he said, his tone easing slightly. “I’ll help however I can. Just don’t let those ‘worst-case scenarios’ of yours mess with your head.”

Jason gave a slight nod and hummed in acknowledgment. The two fell into a brief silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Roy understood the complexity of the situation—he couldn’t risk the safety of a civilian, and he certainly couldn’t let his best friend make a choice he’d come to regret, especially with Batman always watching closely in the background.

Despite being father and son, Batman and Red Hood’s relationship was anything but smooth. Their differing approaches to crime-fighting and their clashing ideologies often put them at odds. Roy frequently found himself stepping in as a safety net for Jason, especially when his best friend’s anger and thirst for vengeance threatened to spiral out of control. Roy knew what it meant to owe someone your life—Jason had saved him and his daughter, Lian, more times than he could count.

That’s why Roy was acutely aware of how Jason’s feelings for Y/N could further strain the already fragile relationship between him and Batman. Bruce had always been adamant about keeping civilians out of their world, especially when it came to personal relationships. But one thing was undeniable—Y/N brought a sense of joy and peace to Jason’s life that Roy hadn’t seen in years. After everything Jason had been through, he deserved that happiness.

Roy clapped his hands on his thighs and stood up, breaking the silence. “Good talk. You should get some rest now. I’ll take Y/N home,” he announced.

Jason’s head snapped up, his expression one of surprise. “What? Why?” he asked, his voice tinged with protest. “Can’t she stay a bit longer?”

“Nope,” Roy said firmly, pointing a finger at Jason. “You’ve used up your Y/N privileges for now. She hasn’t been home or gone to work since you’ve been out. If you keep her here any longer, you’re going to get her fired.”

Jason’s shoulders slumped in defeat, but he didn’t argue. He could see the exhaustion written all over Y/N’s face, and he didn’t want to push her any further. Without waiting for a response, Roy turned and walked out of the room. As he stepped into the living room, a faint smile tugged at his lips. Y/N and Kory were deep in conversation, their heads bent close together like old friends sharing secrets. The sound of their laughter filled the room, warm and genuine, and it brought a sense of comfort to Roy’s heart.

It wasn’t often that Kory found someone who treated her so naturally. Most civilians kept their distance, wary of her striking appearance and alien origins. Despite her boundless optimism, Kory often faced mistrust and hesitation from others. But Y/N didn’t seem to care about any of that. She treated Kory like anyone else, and it was clear they had hit it off.

“Having a good time, girls?” Roy asked, leaning casually against the couch.

Kory’s eyes lit up as she turned to him, her smile radiant. “Conversing with Y/N has been most delightful,” she said, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. Y/N smiled back, giving Kory’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Likewise, Kory,” she replied warmly.

“Well, hate to break up the fun, but I need to take Y/N home,” Roy announced, disrupting the cheerful mood. Kory’s smile faded slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I suppose you do,” she said with a reluctant nod. It was obvious the two had hit it off, and Roy couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for cutting their conversation short.

Y/N excused herself to gather her things. “She’s nice,” Roy remarked, earning a hum of agreement from Kory. “I also approve of Jason’s choice,” she added with a small smile. When Y/N returned, ready to leave, Roy gestured toward the door. After a round of goodbyes and promises to stay in touch, they headed out of the Outlaws’ base.

The car ride was mostly quiet, though not uncomfortably so. Y/N considered asking Roy how he knew her address, since she hadn’t actually given it to him. But given his line of work, she figured it wasn’t that surprising. Still, she saw it as a chance to break the silence and decided to ask anyway. “How did you know where we’re headed?” she inquired, her tone curious.

“Hood has a file on you. I read it,” Roy replied casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Y/N’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Red had a file on her? The idea was intriguing, to say the least. She’d seen stuff like that in detective shows and movies, but experiencing it firsthand was something else entirely. “What else is in there?” she asked, curiosity piqued.

“The usual stuff. Date of birth, place of birth, height, weight, criminal record—or lack thereof—and a bunch of other details,” Roy explained, choosing his words carefully to avoid alarming her. He knew, of course, that the file was far more extensive than that. In reality, calling it a “file” was an understatement. Jason had dug deep into Y/N’s past, compiling an almost obsessive amount of information. Roy found it unsettling, even by his own standards. Jason had crossed into borderline stalker territory, and if it weren’t for the fact that he already had a 24/7 tracking device hanging around Y/N’s neck, Roy wouldn’t put it past him to install hidden cameras or something equally extreme. Thankfully, it seemed Jason hadn’t gone that far—yet.

Y/N decided not to press further and instead turned her attention to the passing scenery outside the window. The exhaustion from the past few days was catching up to her, and despite her efforts to stay awake, her eyelids grew heavy and eventually closed. Roy glanced over at her, noticing her head resting against the window as she drifted off to sleep. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy as he watched her succumb to exhaustion, her features softening in the quiet comfort of sleep.

A gentle tap on her shoulder eventually roused her. “We’re here,” Roy said, his voice low so as not to startle her. Y/N blinked awake, peering out the window to see her apartment complex. She gathered her things from the seat and reached for the door handle, ready to step out. “Y/N?” Roy called out, stopping her in her tracks.

“Yeah?” she replied, turning back to face him.

“Can I get your number?” he asked, the question coming out a bit abruptly. Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the request. Sensing her hesitation, Roy quickly clarified, “No, no—not like that. I’m not hitting on you. You’re Hood’s girl, and he’d kill me if I tried. What I meant was, before Kory and I knew about you, Jason would disappear for hours, and we’d have no idea where he was. Turns out, he was with you. So, next time he pulls a vanishing act, I can just call you and check in.”

And also so I can keep tabs on you to make sure you’re not kidnapped, he thought to himself, though he wisely kept that part to himself.

Jason’s intentions toward her were far from innocent, and Roy knew it was only a matter of time before Y/N became so deeply entangled in his world that escaping would feel impossible. She was blissfully unaware of the situation she was in, and a part of Roy hoped she’d never have to find out. That would be the best outcome for everyone involved.

“Of course. You could’ve just asked earlier,” Y/N replied with a warm smile, handing him her phone. Roy quickly saved his number in her contacts. “Hood can be… unpredictable sometimes,” he added, his tone serious. “If anything ever happens, call me.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed slightly at his words. While she trusted Hood enough to believe he wouldn’t do anything to harm her, she appreciated Roy’s concern. Living in Gotham had taught her that preparing for the worst was just part of life.

“Thank you, Roy,” she said sincerely. “I’ll keep that in mind. Just so you know, Red and I aren’t dating, though I’ll admit he’s quite the catch.”

“It’s actually the opposite,” Roy muttered with a dry chuckle, his tone laced with irony. Y/N smiled, misinterpreting his comment as a compliment rather than the subtle warning he meant it to be. “That’s sweet of you,” she said, completely unaware of the underlying meaning behind his words.

Roy frowned, realizing she hadn’t picked up on his implication. “That’s not what I—” he started, but then stopped himself. “You know what? Never mind. Stay safe, Y/N,” he said with a sigh, forcing a reassuring smile to mask his unease.

With a final nod, Y/N bid Roy farewell and headed toward her apartment. As she walked away, Roy couldn’t help but think to himself, he’s the one who caught you Y/N.

As the sun began its descent, soft golden light filtered through the kitchen window, bathing Gotham in a warm, amber glow. The sky, once a mix of vibrant blues and cloudy grays, now melted into the softer hues of pink and orange, gradually deepening into the purples of twilight. Y/N stood at the kitchen counter, preparing herself a light evening snack. It had been nearly a week and a half since she last saw Red. In that time, she’d stayed in touch with both Roy and Kory, receiving regular updates on his recovery.

The chime of the doorbell interrupted her thoughts. Y/N remembered texting Kory earlier, asking if Red could visit once he was feeling better. She hadn’t expected it to be so soon, but the idea of finally seeing him again filled her with anticipation. Quickly drying her hands on a kitchen towel, she made her way to the door, a smile spreading across her face as she imagined the familiar sight of the red helmet and leather jacket.

“Hello, Y/N,” a voice greeted as she swung the door open. But her smile faltered, and her heart sank like a stone. Standing on the threshold wasn’t the figure she’d been eagerly waiting for. Instead, it was someone from her nightmares. The excitement bubbling inside her vanished in an instant, replaced by a storm of emotions—confusion, anger, hatred, and, most of all, an overwhelming sense of dread.

Time seemed to freeze as shock and disbelief washed over her. Memories of past traumas flooded her mind, sending a cold shiver down her spine. Her eyes locked onto the metal crowbar in his hand, and the icy rage in his gaze made her heart pound with fear. She was trapped, and the realization hit her like a punch to the gut. Where did I go wrong? she thought desperately. She had done everything to ensure he’d never find her. So how had he?

“Dad,” she muttered involuntarily, the word slipping out before she could stop it. Her own voice sounded strange, distant, as if it belonged to someone else. She knew she had to act fast, her survival instincts kicking into overdrive. Despite the paralyzing fear threatening to overwhelm her, she forced herself to focus, summoning every ounce of strength and determination to find a way out of this nightmare.

With trembling hands, she took a step back and tried to slam the door shut, but he wedged the crowbar into the gap before it could close. Panic surged through her as she threw her weight against the door, pushing with all her might to force it closed. But the crowbar held firm, leaving the door stubbornly ajar.

“You ungrateful wench!” he roared from the other side, his voice dripping with venom. “After everything I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me?”

Desperation clawed at her chest as her mind raced for a way to escape. Then it hit her—the box Red had given her. The SOS pendant! Her hand flew to the delicate chain around her neck, fingers fumbling as she pressed the button repeatedly, her heart pounding in her ears. Please, let help come soon, she prayed silently, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she braced herself for what might come next.

Without a second thought, she sprinted toward the box, but before she could take more than a few steps, her father forced his way through the door. His hand shot out, grabbing her ankle and yanking her backward. She crashed to the floor with a painful thud, her face hitting the ground. “Let me go!” she screamed, kicking and thrashing wildly. Tears streamed down her face as she fought to break free, but her father’s grip was ironclad. His only response was a cruel twist of her ankle, sending a sharp, searing pain through her leg and drawing a cry of agony from her lips.

Despite the blinding pain, Y/N refused to give up. Fueled by adrenaline, she swung her free leg with all her strength, aiming a fierce kick at her father’s torso. The blow landed with enough force to make him stagger back, giving her a fleeting moment to act.

Seizing the opportunity, Y/N scrambled to her feet, her eyes darting around for something—anything—to defend herself. Her hand closed around the nearest object, a hatstand, and she swung it with all her might. But her hope was short-lived. He blocked the swing with his crowbar, the impact jarring her arms, and then wrenched the hatstand from her grasp, tossing it aside. Before she could react, he grabbed her by the hair and hurled her to the floor. Her back slammed against the couch, knocking the wind out of her.

“You stupid bitch,” he snarled, his voice dripping with venom. “You really thought you could run from me?” He punctuated his words with a brutal kick to her stomach, the force of it leaving her gasping for air.

“Mom’s dead because of you. Haven’t you done enough already?” Her voice trembled with raw emotion, every word heavy with years of pain and anger. After enduring so much suffering—both her own and her mother’s—at his hands, the physical pain she felt now was nothing compared to the hatred and rage burning inside her. She heard him scoff, the cold metal of the crowbar nudging her face as he leaned closer.

“Now that I think about it, you do remind me of her,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. “How she used to beg me not to hurt you. To take it out on her instead of her precious little daughter. You’re just as pathetic as she was.” He sneered, his words cutting deep.

Y/N stayed silent, her mind racing. She needed to buy time, to keep him talking long enough for her to reach into the box and grab what she needed. Her heart pounded as her fingers brushed against the box Red had given her. Relief flooded through her as she pulled out the can of pepper spray, her grip steady despite the fear coursing through her veins. She aimed it at him, her expression cold and unwavering.

“Go to hell, you bastard,” she spat.

The spray hit him square in the face, and he let out a howl of pain, stumbling backward as he clawed at his eyes. Curses and threats spilled from his lips, his voice a mix of rage and agony. But before she could react, he lunged at her, crowbar raised, his movements wild and uncontrolled. Y/N knew she couldn’t dodge in time. She shut her eyes tightly, raising her arms to shield her head, bracing for the blow she was sure would come.

But it never did.

The crowbar clattered to the floor with a deafening crash, followed by a piercing scream. Y/N’s eyes snapped open, and there he was—Red, perched on her father’s chest, his fists raining down blow after blow. Her father, bloodied and battered, let out a sardonic laugh despite the pain. “What’s the price for playing hero?” he sneered, his voice dripping with malice. “She offering you more than just gratitude?”

“Shut your goddamn mouth,” Red growled, his voice low and dangerous, barely containing the fury bubbling beneath the surface. He grabbed her father’s jaw, forcing it shut with a rough grip, before delivering another punch that landed with a sickening crack. Y/N watched, a mix of shock and relief flooding her as Red continued to pummel her father, each strike precise and brutal. Blood poured from her father’s nose, pooling on the floor beneath him. With every hit, his struggles grew weaker until he was nothing more than a limp, broken figure beneath Red’s relentless assault.

In one last, desperate attempt, her father’s hand twitched toward the crowbar, his fingers brushing the metal. But before he could even lift it, Red grabbed his wrist and twisted it with a sharp, merciless snap. The sound of bone breaking echoed through the room. Something in Red seemed to shatter in that moment. Blind rage consumed him as he snatched the crowbar from the floor, his hands trembling as he stared down at the broken man beneath him. Emotions he had buried for years surged to the surface, raw and unrelenting.

“Red, stop! You’ll kill him!” Y/N cried out, rushing forward and wrapping her arms tightly around his waist to hold him back. She wasn’t entirely sure why she intervened. For years, she had dreamed of her father facing justice for everything he’d done, but the thought of Red staining his hands with blood for her sake was unbearable.

Red’s head turned slowly toward her, and he flinched at the sight of her tear-streaked face. Her eyes held a glimmer of something all too familiar to him—fear. A sharp pang of regret stabbed at his chest. What had he done? Was she afraid of him now? Did she hate him? This was the side of himself he had always hoped to keep hidden from her, the darkness he never wanted her to see. But in that moment, he realized he had failed. His rage had taken over, turning him into the very thing he despised.

The room fell silent, the air heavy with tension. Red’s mind raced, a storm of guilt, shame, and self-loathing swirling inside him. He wanted to reach out to her, to tell her he was still the same person she had trusted, the one who had always tried to protect her. But the words stuck in his throat, suffocated by the weight of his own regret.

“Hood, I got the—” Roy’s voice cut through the apartment as he burst through the door, breathing heavily. His eyes widened as he took in the scene before him. It didn’t take long for him to piece together what had happened. Without hesitation, he knelt beside Red and gently pried the crowbar from his hands. Turning to Y/N, he quickly scanned her for injuries before tapping his comm. “Star, comm in. Rendezvous at the SOS coordinates.” Within moments, Starfire arrived, her eyes immediately locking onto Y/N.

“Y/N, you’re injured!” Kory gasped, her voice filled with concern as she rushed to her side.

“Star, help Y/N. Hood, you’re coming with me,” Roy ordered, his tone firm and unyielding. Red obeyed without protest, rising to his feet and leaving the apartment without so much as a glance back. Roy sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair as he muttered a string of curses under his breath.

“Don’t worry about this, Y/N. We’ll handle it,” Roy assured her, gesturing toward her unconscious father sprawled on the floor. Y/N nodded slowly, the shock beginning to fade as reality set in. “Red’s going to be okay, right?” she asked, her voice tinged with anxiety.

“Don’t worry about him. He’s a tough nut—bounces back from pretty much anything,” Roy replied, though his tone lacked the confidence he wished it had. Kory helped Roy lift the unconscious man, and together they carried him out. Y/N didn’t ask what they planned to do with him, and truthfully, she didn’t care.

“Where do you keep the first aid kit?” Kory asked, her voice calm and steady.

“In the bathroom cabinet,” Y/N answered. Kory nodded and quickly retrieved the kit. She guided Y/N to the couch and knelt at her feet, carefully tending to her injuries. “Fortunately, you’re not seriously hurt,” Kory remarked, her tone carrying a note of relief. As she worked, a sense of calm began to settle over the room.

Y/N couldn’t help but feel grateful for Kory’s presence. The alien woman’s soothing demeanor and gentle hands brought a sense of comfort despite the chaos that had just unfolded. “Thank you, Kory,” Y/N said softly, a genuine smile of appreciation spreading across her face. Kory’s expression softened, her eyes lighting up with warmth at the gratitude.

“You’re very welcome,” Kory replied warmly. “Even though we’ve only just met, I’ve grown quite fond of you. Since I’ve been on a break from the Titans, I haven’t stayed in touch with many of my old friends. So, it’s nice to make new ones. We are friends, right?” she asked, her tone hopeful.

Y/N smiled warmly and reached out to take Kory’s hand. “Of course. If you’d like, we could go shopping or catch a movie sometime. You know, just girl stuff,” she suggested. Kory’s face lit up with excitement, her vibrant green eyes sparkling. “I would love nothing more,” she exclaimed, her enthusiasm contagious.

“Hey, Kory,” Y/N began after a moment, her tone shifting slightly. “Can I ask you for a favor?” Kory nodded, her attention fully on Y/N as she waited for her to continue. “Could you ask Red to come see me? It’s okay if he doesn’t want to, but I just…” Y/N trailed off, struggling to put her feelings into words. Kory’s lips pressed into a thin line as she considered the request. Usually, after violent outbursts like the one today, Red needed time and space to calm down. But maybe Y/N was exactly what he needed right now.

“I will,” Kory assured her with a soft smile.

About half an hour after Kory left, the doorbell chimed. Y/N took a deep breath, wincing slightly as her injuries made her movements a bit slower, and made her way to the door. When she opened it, she was immediately greeted by a large bouquet of roses.

“Last I checked, it wasn’t my birthday,” Y/N teased, a playful smile tugging at her lips. Even though Red’s face was hidden behind his mask, she could almost feel him smiling back.

“Well, I couldn’t show up empty-handed, could I?” he replied with a casual shrug. “And who says you need an occasion to give a girl flowers?”

“Come on in,” Y/N said, stepping aside to let him enter.

Jason stepped inside, the air between them thick with awkwardness. As he set the bouquet down on a nearby table, he could feel the anxiety gnawing at him. The memory of nearly killing her father in front of her weighed heavily on his mind, and he couldn’t shake the fear that it had changed everything between them. A part of him was terrified she’d called him here to end whatever they had.

They settled onto the couch, the silence stretching uncomfortably between them. Finally, Jason broke it. “How’s your ankle?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

“Oh, it’s almost healed,” Y/N replied, her tone light. “Who knew Kory could do a hot and cold compress with just an ice pack and her hands? Perks of having superpowers, I guess.”

“Roy still has burn marks from when she tried that on us the first time,” Jason recalled, a chuckle slipping out. But he stopped short when he noticed the concern on Y/N’s face.

“Oh, um, I see. Anyway, thanks for the flowers. They’re beautiful,” Y/N said, steering the conversation in a different direction. Jason nodded, his posture relaxing slightly as he appreciated the shift in topic. “Yeah, no big deal. Thought they might brighten the place up a bit.”

“That’s really sweet of you,” Y/N replied, her tone softening. Then, her eyes flicked over him, and she tilted her head curiously. “So, what’s with the suit?” Amid all the chaos earlier, she hadn’t noticed, but now she couldn’t help but see how different he looked. Gone was his usual leather-and-armor ensemble. Instead, he wore a crisp red shirt, a perfectly tailored pinstripe suit, and a sleek black waistcoat. His signature biker helmet was replaced by a red and black mask that covered half his face, leaving his dark hair—with that striking white streak at the front—to fall casually over his forehead. Y/N couldn’t tell if the white streak was natural or dyed, but it only added to his magnetic presence.

There were attractive men, and then there was him. Y/N had never met someone whose aura was so intensely masculine and commanding. It was almost overwhelming to be near him. He looked like he’d stepped straight out of a mafia romance novel—the kind of man who could dominate a room with just a glance. Come to think of it, she vaguely remembered hearing something on the news about him being a crime lord.

“Oh, this?” Jason started, pausing briefly before clearing his throat. “I had a… meeting. Just business stuff.” His answer was vague, but Y/N’s imagination filled in the blanks effortlessly. She could picture him lounging on a luxurious black leather sofa, a glass of whiskey in hand, while some underling groveled at his feet, begging for mercy. She hummed in acknowledgment, a small smile playing on her lips. “So, is this how your thugs get to see you every day?”

“Only the high-ranking ones or the ones in really deep shit,” Jason replied with a smirk, leaning back casually.

“A life of crime suddenly seems much more enticing,” Y/N joked, her tone light but with a hint of playful envy. Red chuckled, shaking his head. “Trust me, angel, not everyone gets the Y/N treatment.”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to take your word for it,” she replied with a grin, standing up and heading to the kitchen. “Too much happened today. I need a drink. Can I get you anything? I have—” She opened the refrigerator, only to realize with a flush of embarrassment that her options were limited. “Water, coffee, and… oh! Tequila!” she exclaimed, pulling out a bottle with a triumphant grin and holding it up for him to see. It was cheap liquor, the kind someone of his stature probably wouldn’t even glance at, let alone drink.

“I’d drink anything you pour for me angel.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush and her stomach flutter at his words. Red wasn’t usually the flirtatious type, so she wondered if his comment was more than just a casual remark. Maybe it was genuine. Maybe this was something worth exploring. She grabbed two shot glasses and set them on the table.

“You get started. I’ll be right back,” she said with a smile before heading to the bathroom and closing the door behind her. Taking a deep breath, she splashed water on her face and stared at her reflection in the mirror, her expression determined. “Okay, Y/N, you can do this. You’ve been dreaming about this for months. The worst he can say is no. You’re a grown woman, and you can go after what you want. You just have to try.” Her pep talk sounded a lot like Stephanie cheering her on, even though Stephanie had always been quick to encourage her to dump her past boyfriends. And, looking back, Y/N couldn’t blame her. But this was different. He was different. Before heading back, she smoothed her clothes, reapplied her lip gloss, and spritzed on some perfume.

Feeling more confident, Y/N took another deep breath and walked back to the living room. The bottle was now a quarter empty, and her glass was filled to the brim with the golden liquid. “Took you long enough,” Jason said, his gaze fixed on her, studying her intently. Y/N didn’t respond. Instead, she leaned over his shoulder, picked up his shot glass, and downed it in one swift motion without hesitation.

“I didn’t know you could handle your liquor so well,” he remarked, his tone light but laced with curiosity. He was trying to draw her into conversation, maybe to distract himself from how her perfume was clouding his senses. The longer he stared at her, the more desire crept into his veins. It didn’t help that her hair fell over her shoulder, framing her face, or that he could almost feel her breath brushing against his skin. His mind began wandering to places it definitely shouldn’t. Y/N’s laugh, soft and genuine, filled the room, and Jason felt his resolve waver. It stirred emotions he’d been fighting hard to keep buried. She set the glass down and leaned back, her arm still resting casually over his shoulder, her eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and something more.

“Why don’t you find out?” she challenged playfully, her gaze locking with his. It’s now or never, she thought to herself. Y/N reached up, tracing the edge of his mask with her finger, watching as his chest rose and fell with uneven breaths. “You don’t want to start something you can’t finish, angel,” he warned, leaning into her touch, trying to throw her off balance. But her reaction wasn’t what he expected.

“Well whether I finish or not depends on you. Can you make me finish ?”

That was the moment Jason’s control shattered. His attraction to her was like a moth drawn to a flame—inevitable and dangerous. His love for her, his desire for her, was a risk because he knew if he let himself go even a little, he might lose all restraint. Jason stood up, closing the distance between them until they were face to face. His fingers brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch lingering. Her eyes traveled over his figure, towering over hers. He could hear a deafening heartbeat but couldn’t tell if it was hers or his own.

“All these past months, I just have the same moments playing on repeat and you— you make it so hard.” As the words stumbled out of his mouth, he felt as if each syllable was bringing him closer to the precipice of ruining whatever fragile relationship they might have had.

“So hard to what ?” she whispered, her voice barely audible but charged with intensity.

Jason swallowed hard, his eyes locking with hers. “So hard to keep myself from you,” he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. “Every time I'm near you, I feel like I'm losing control. And the more I try to fight it, the stronger it gets.” The confession was a cathartic release, not done out of blinded optimism but out of raw honesty begging to be acknowledged.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat. Despite the mask, she could almost see the struggle in his eyes, the vulnerability he rarely showed. She reached up, her hand gently cupping his cheek. “Maybe you don't have to fight it. Maybe I want it too,” she said, her voice soft yet still holding that lilt that so keenly resembled a siren's song reeling him closer and crumbling any walls he could’ve even thought of putting up.

Jason's plan seemed to have taken an unexpected yet much appreciated turn. From the start of his pursuit of Y/N, he had never really considered the possibility that she could be attracted to him out of her own volition, without any of his tricks or deceptions. But now he saw that this had a chance of really working out, the right way. As much as he wanted to keep her all to himself, he knew she didn't deserve to be manipulated, and he couldn't let his selfishness get the better of him.

Realization hit him like lightning. He had meticulously planned every minute detail to make their first time absolutely perfect, and he felt panic surge internally when he realized he didn't have enough time to do all of that. “Y/N, I hate to break the mood, but I need five—no, seven minutes to prepare. On the clock, I swear.”

Y/N blinked in confusion at the suddenness of the request but didn't refuse it and watched as he dashed into her room and close the door behind him. Her earlier confidence started to deflate at the awkwardness of the situation, but she couldn't help but wonder what he meant by needing “time to prepare”. It was understandable if an awkward teenager needed time to get himself together but what could a man like him possibly need to prepare for ? Left alone, she took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves. She decided to trust him, knowing that whatever he was planning, it was likely something thoughtful. Y/N wandered over to the couch and sat down, her mind replaying their conversation and the emotions that had surfaced.

After what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes, Jason reappeared. He extended his hand towards her chivalrously and led her into the room. Y/N's earlier confusion melted away as she saw the effort he had put in. The bed was now adorned with luxurious silk sheets that looked incredibly expensive. A sweet scent wafted through the air, and she noticed scented candles on the side tables. “Didn't have enough time to get roses. Sorry about that,” he spoke, scratching his neck sheepishly, clearly nervous about her reaction.

“What are you talking about ? It's perfect Red ! How did you know I liked these scented candles ?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with appreciation.

“It reminds me of your perfume.”

Y/N's heart swelled at his thoughtfulness and effort. “You're really something, you know that ?” she said, stepping closer to him. Before he could reply, she leaned in and kissed him over his mask. His eyes widened in surprise for a moment, but then he relaxed into her touch as if it were second nature.

Jason's fingers found their way into her hair, tangling in the soft strands, the scene unfolding just as it had in his imagination countless times before. The kiss, despite the mask, was electric, sending shivers down his spines. Y/N could feel his breath quicken, matching her own heartbeat's rapid pace. She was amazed at how something so simple could feel so intense. His hands roamed gently over her back, feeling the warmth of her skin through the fabric of her shirt as he gently laid her down against the silk sheets. He marveled at how perfectly she fit against him, how natural it felt to be this close to her.

The only light in the room came from the scented candles, leaving her to explore solely through touch and sound. She heard him remove his mask with a click and toss it aside, before diving into something more passionate, more intense. There was an edge to this kiss, a rougher, almost desperate need. Despite what how much he promised himself to be gentle with her - he needed it, the fiery desire to feel her in his arms, to hear her breathless gasps and little moans to feel like he was alive.

“God,” kiss, “you're,” kiss, “perfect—”

Jason's words tumbled out in a haze of desire. For years, he had longed for this moment. From the very first time he saw her, he had been captivated, convinced she was the most beautiful person he had ever laid eyes on. But over the past few months, his feelings had deepened far beyond a simple childhood infatuation. Y/N had become the center of his fantasies, leaving him restless and yearning for her touch on countless nights. His lips moved from her mouth to her neck, leaving a trail of marks as he went. Her soft whimpers and moans, like sweet nectar, only fueled his eagerness.

His hands roamed her body with a delicate caution, as though she were a fragile porcelain doll that might shatter at the slightest pressure. The sound of his kisses, slick and hot, deepened the flush on her skin, drawing out incoherent whines and whimpers from her lips. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as the intensity between them grew.

Every touch, every sound she made, was intoxicating, pulling him deeper into the moment. He couldn’t get enough of her—the way her body arched toward his, the way her breath came in short, uneven gasps, the way her skin felt like fire beneath his fingertips. It was as if she had ignited something primal within him, something he could no longer control.

“Y/N,” he whispered against her lips, his voice rough with need. “I’ve wanted this for so long. You have no idea…”

His words trailed off as his mouth found her collarbone, nipping and kissing his way down to the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. She gasped, her grip tightening as she clung to him. The sound of her pleasure was like music to his ears, driving him to push further, to give her more. He wanted to hear her fall apart, to know that he was the one who had unraveled her.

Her hands moved from his hair to his shoulders, gripping him tightly as if she were afraid, he might disappear. “Red,” she breathed, her voice trembling. “Please…” 

That single word, dripping with longing and desperation, was all the push he needed. His hands moved swiftly, pulling her tank top over her head and tossing it aside. Her shorts followed just as quickly, discarded without a second thought. The candles around them flickered, casting a soft, warm glow across the room. It wasn’t enough light for her to see clearly, but with the enhanced abilities he had gained from the Lazarus Pit, he could see every detail of her. For a moment, he paused, his eyes drinking in the sight of her beneath him—flushed, breathless, and utterly beautiful.

But the moment didn’t last long. The fire between them was too intense, too all-consuming. He joined her on the bed, his body pressing against hers as his lips found her neck once more. His kisses trailed down further and further till he was at the valley of her breasts. Y/N’s breath hitched, her eyes fluttering shut in anticipation.

Then, unexpectedly, Jason hesitated.

“What happened?” she whispered, her voice tinged with confusion and desire. “Didn’t you say you wanted this for the longest time? Why are you stopping now?”

Jason shook his head before sliding down the straps of her bra and pressing kisses along her collarbone. The air seemed to leave his lungs entirely as he unhooked her bra, the reality of the moment hitting him hard. This was real. After years of longing, of imagining this very moment, it was finally happening. His hand cupped one breast while his mouth found the other, his touch both possessive and reverent.

“Fuc—,” she moaned and he huffed a chuckle, his warm breath making goosebumps erupt across her arms. She felt dizzy and elated at the same time as though she were standing at the edge of the world, gazing down at a kaleidoscope of colors swirling beneath her.

Y/N gasped sharply as his teeth grazed her sensitive nipple, a jolt of pain mixed with pleasure shooting through her, sending shivers down her spine and igniting a fiery heat between her legs. He took his time, his tongue swirling and sucking, leaving broad, wet strokes that spread warmth across her skin. Jason’s fingers lingered at the waistband of her underwear, teasing for a moment before slipping beneath. Her back arched instinctively as his fingers brushed against her, and she squirmed under the light pressure he applied to her clit. He traced her folds, teasing her gently before circling her throbbing clit again and again, each touch deliberate and maddening.

Before she could muster a coherent sentence, he slid a finger inside her, making her back arch. He was fascinated by how responsive she was, every touch eliciting a reaction. He curled his finger inside her, as if searching for something specific, and when her legs began to tremble and her eyes water, he knew he’d found it. A smirk tugged at his lips as he added a second finger, his movements alternating between slow and deliberate and fast and relentless, driving her closer to the edge.

It had been months since she’d been with anyone, and her body reacted intensely, as if rediscovering pleasure for the first time. As if two fingers weren’t enough, he added a third, pumping into her with a rhythm that felt almost punishing, determined to stretch her to her limit. His lips crashed into hers, swallowing her moans and cries as he quickened his pace. “ S'too much,” she managed to gasp between kisses.

Jason chuckled darkly, clearly amused. “Angel, trust me, you wouldn't be able to take me if I didn’t stretch you out first.”

Y/N’s face flushed, a mix of embarrassment and defiance. “Excuse me? I’m not a virgin, nor am I a prude. I’ve had boyfriends before. You’re nothing I can’t handle,” she shot back, though her words felt more like an attempt to convince herself than him. Sure, she’d had boyfriends, but none of them could even come close to Jason. She was certain he was twice her size, if not more, and the thought alone sent a thrill of anticipation—and a hint of nervousness—coursing through her.

Jason raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening as he leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear. “Oh, really?” he murmured, his voice dripping with playful challenge. “We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

His fingers continued their relentless rhythm, curling and stretching her in ways that made her toes curl and her breath hitch. She tried to hold back the sounds threatening to escape her lips, but it was impossible. Every touch, every movement, was designed to unravel her completely. Her hands gripped the sheets tightly, her knuckles turning white as she tried to anchor herself against the overwhelming sensations.

“You’re so tight, angel,” he growled, his voice rough with desire. “Even like this, you’re squeezing me so damn hard. Imagine how it’ll feel when it’s me inside you.”

The words sent a fresh wave of heat flooding through her, and she couldn’t help but whimper in response. Her mind was a haze of pleasure, her body trembling under his skilled touch and tears flowing freely. She wanted to fire back with a snarky remark, to prove she could keep up with his teasing, but all that came out was a breathless moan. 

“Red—” she gasped, her voice cracking as her hips instinctively rocked against his hand. “I—I can’t—”

“Shhh,” he murmured, his voice firm yet tender. “Look at me. You’re doing so well, darling. S'good for me.” She forced her eyes open, struggling to maintain his gaze. Even in the dim light, his eyes stood out vividly, glowing faintly.

“Your eyes… they’re green, like emeralds,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He brought her knuckles to his lips, pressing a soft, grateful kiss to them, as if silently thanking her for the compliment. His free hand intertwined with hers, holding her steady as his fingers worked her with precision, hitting that spot inside her that made her see stars. Her legs shook, her breaths coming in short, desperate gasps as the pressure built to an unbearable peak.

And then, with a sharp cry, she shattered. Her body convulsed as the wave of pleasure crashed over her, leaving her trembling and breathless. Jason didn’t let up, his fingers slowing but not stopping, drawing out her orgasm until she was a writhing, whimpering mess beneath him. 

When he finally withdrew his hand, she collapsed back onto the bed, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggled to catch her breath. Just as she thought she might have a moment to recover, Jason’s mouth descended to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. “Still think you can handle me, angel?” he teased, his voice low and rough with desire. Y/N groaned, her body still buzzing from the intensity of her release. She was too exhausted to argue, too overwhelmed by everything he had just put her through.

Y/N had always known Red had an appetite, but nothing could have prepared her for the way he devoured her now. His lips and tongue moved with a hunger that left her breathless, her slick coating his mouth as he feasted on her. The obscene sounds of his lips and tongue against her sent shivers through her, the heat of his spit only adding to the wet, aching pressure building inside her.

“Nghmm ,” he moaned against her, his green eyes glazed and hazy as he looked up at her, utterly lost in the taste of her. “You taste heavenly,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. The bridge of his nose brushed against her swollen clit, and he took the opportunity to drag his lips across her folds, teasing her sensitive nerves until she was writhing beneath him. Her back arched off the bed, her mind spinning as she struggled to make sense of where she start and he ended. 

Her hands tangled in his hair, gripping tightly as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Jason’s tongue worked relentlessly, swirling around her clit before dipping lower to taste her deeply, as if he couldn’t get enough. Every flick, every suck, every groan he let out against her sent her spiraling further into ecstasy. She was a mess of gasps and whimpers, her body trembling under his relentless attention.

“Red please please —,” she choked out, her voice breaking as her hips bucked against his mouth. “I—I can’t—it’s too much—”

But he didn’t stop. If anything, he only intensified his efforts, his hands gripping her thighs to hold her in place as he devoured her like a man starved. The wet, sinful sounds of his mouth on her filled the room, mingling with her desperate moans. She could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter inside her, threatening to snap at any moment.

“That’s it, angel,” he growled, his voice low and rough, the vibrations sending shivers through her very core. “Let go. I want to feel you come on my tongue.”

His words were the final push she needed. With a sharp, breathless cry, her body shuddered, her release crashing over her in a blinding, overwhelming wave of pleasure. Jason didn’t stop, his tongue working relentlessly as she rode out the intensity, her legs trembling uncontrollably beneath him. He savored every drop, drinking her in as though she were the most exquisite thing he’d ever tasted, until she was left a quivering, oversensitive mess beneath him.

When he finally pulled back, he looked up at her with a wicked grin, his lips glistening and his eyes dark with satisfaction. “I think that’s plenty of warm-up before the main course,” he teased, his voice dripping with mischief. “Or… do you want more?” 

Y/N’s breath hitched at his words, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her release. She wanted to respond, to fire back with something clever, but her mind was too foggy, her thoughts too scattered. All she could manage was a weak, pleading whimper as she looked up at him, her eyes wide and glazed with desire.

Jason let out a dark chuckle, clearly reveling in the effect he had on her. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh before slowly trailing his lips upward, leaving a searing path of heat in his wake. His hands moved up her body, his touch firm yet tender, as though he were committing every curve, every inch of her to memory.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, “Completely undone, completely mine.”

His words sent a fresh wave of shivers cascading down her spine, and she instinctively arched into his touch, craving more. Despite being exhausted and oversensitive, the raw hunger in his eyes reignited a deep, primal need within her. She wanted him—every part of him.

“Not fair,” she eyes almost watered, her voice trembling.

“What’s not fair?” he asked curiously.  

“You’re still fully clothed,” she breathed, her hands weakly reaching for him. “And I… I want you. I want to touch you, to feel you—not just through fabric.”

Jason’s smirk deepened at her words, a flicker of surprise and satisfaction crossing his features. His eyes, dark and intense, glinted with a mix of amusement and raw desire as he watched her. It was almost surreal to him—the way she wanted him, the way she looked at him like he was something worth craving. He’d spent so long believing he wasn’t the kind of man someone like her could want, not in this way. And yet, here she was, her words and touch unraveling him. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if he’d somehow died and stumbled into some kind of heaven. “Well, angel,” he drawled, his voice low and teasing, “if you wanted me out of these clothes, all you had to do was ask.”

Before she could respond, he leaned back, sitting up slightly to unbutton his shirt and waistcoat. The fabric fell to the floor with a soft thud, though Y/N could barely make out the details in the dim lighting, silently cursing the lack of visibility. “Better?” he asked, his voice laced with mock innocence as his fingers moved to the buckle of his belt. Y/N nodded, her throat suddenly dry. “Much,” she managed to whisper, her eyes glued to him as he finished undressing.

“Now,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine, “you can touch me all you want.”

She didn’t hesitate. Her hands immediately found their way to his chest, her fingers exploring the hard planes of his muscles, tracing the ridges of his scars, and following the faint trail of hair that led down his abdomen. She marveled at the way his breath hitched when her nails lightly grazed his skin, the way his muscles tensed under her touch. It was intoxicating, knowing she could unravel him just as much as he unraveled her.

Feeling a surge of boldness, her hands trailed lower and lower until they reached the waistband of his pants. She glanced up at him, his brilliant green eyes darkening with desire, his breathing growing heavier. Her fingers dipped further, brushing against the hard outline of his arousal. Her eyes widened in surprise and curiosity.

“Is that…?” she whispered, her voice a mix of awe and disbelief.

Jason let out a low, throaty chuckle, his eyes never leaving hers. “Yeah, angel,” he said, his voice rough and dripping with desire. “That’s all for you.”

Her cheeks flushed at his words, but she didn’t pull her hand away. Instead, she let her fingers curl around him, feeling the heat and hardness through the fabric of his pants. Jason’s breath hitched, his hips instinctively pressing into her touch.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head tilting back slightly as her hand began to explore him more boldly, “You’re gonna be the death of me angel.”

She smirked, emboldened by the way he reacted to her touch. With her fingers trembling ever so slightly as she pulled down his boxers. Jason’s hands gripped the sheets tightly, his muscles tensing as she finally freed him from the confines of his clothing.

Her eyes widened as she took him in, her breath catching in her throat. He was… impressive, to say the least. Her hand wrapped around him tentatively, her touch light but deliberate. Jason let out a sharp hiss, his hips jerking slightly as her fingers brushed against her tip.

“Hold on…” she withdrew her hand, her voice shaky. “Jus’ wait a minute.”

Jason froze, his eyes flashing with uncertainty.

“You… don’t want this?” he asked, his voice low but tinged with vulnerability.

You don't want me?

The unspoken question hung heavy in the air, and it pained her how quickly he assumed he was undesirable. As if he could ever be anything less than everything she wanted.

“No!” she blurted out, her fingers gently hooking under his chin to make him look at her. “I just… need a second to recalibrate because… holy shit… you’re so big—”

He burst into laughter, his boyish face lighting up with joy. “That’s all? Aw, angel…” he cooed, flicking her nose playfully with his index finger. “Swear, you can be so adorable sometimes…” he teased, his voice dripping with affection.

She huffed, the tips of her ears turning red, but the tension between them had softened, replaced by a warmth that made her heart swell. Jason’s laughter was infectious, and despite her embarrassment, she couldn’t help but smile. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, his earlier worry completely erased.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured against her mouth, his tone reassuring. “We’ll take it slow. I’ve got you, angel.”

His words eased her lingering nerves, replacing them with a warm, comforting reassurance. She took a deep breath, centering herself before gathering her courage. Her thumb brushed over the wet tip of his cock, feeling the soft, velvety skin twitch under her touch. His length curved slightly upward, and she couldn’t help but squirm at the thought of how perfectly it would hit all the right spots inside her.

“Nghh—fuck,” he groaned, his voice strained but encouraging. “Didn’t expect you to feel this good…”

She smirked, a playful glint in her eyes. “I know something that’d feel even better,” she said, her voice low and teasing. Slowly, she dipped her head down, pressing a soft kiss to the tip before letting her hands explore the shape of him, familiarizing herself with every inch. Her smirk widened when she felt the prominent vein pulsing beneath her touch. She ran her tongue along it, and the reaction was immediate—his head fell back, a loud, unrestrained moan escaping his lips.

The sound sent a thrill through her, hotter and more intoxicating than anything she’d ever heard. Taking it as encouragement, she wrapped her lips around him, stretching them as wide as she could to accommodate his size. He barely fit in her mouth, and the thought of how he’d feel elsewhere made her pulse quicken. There was no way something that big would fit inside her—but the idea of trying sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine.

Jason’s hands tangled in her hair, not pushing or forcing, but gently guiding as she took him deeper. His breath came in ragged gasps, his hips twitching slightly as he fought to keep himself still. “Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, his voice rough and strained. “You’re—god, you’re amazing.”

She hummed softly in response, the vibration drawing another sharp moan from him. Her tongue swirled around him, exploring every inch as her lips moved up and down his length. She could feel him throbbing in her mouth, the taste of him intoxicating as she lost herself in the rhythm. 

“Fuck. I’m close. Y/N, I—,” he managed, his voice breaking.

“Come for me Red.”

Jason’s grip tightened in her hair, his breath catching as her words sent him spiraling over the edge. With a deep, guttural groan, he fell apart, his release hitting him with such intensity that it left him trembling. Y/N stayed with him, her lips and tongue moving gently to coax out every last wave of his pleasure until he was completely spent, his body relaxing and his breaths coming in heavy, uneven gasps.

When she finally pulled back, she looked up at him, her lips glistening and her eyes dark with a satisfied gleam. Jason’s hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing across her bottom lip, ensuring not a single drop of his release went to waste. He gazed down at her, his expression a mix of awe and adoration.

“You’re fucking incredible,” he murmured, his voice still rough but laced with tenderness. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, angel.” Y/N smiled softly, leaning into his touch. “You’re not so bad yourself, Red,” she teased, her voice warm and playful.

Y/N's world suddenly tilted as Jason hooked her ankle and draped it over his shoulder, positioning himself firmly between her legs. He pressed a series of soft, lingering kisses along her calf, each one sending a shiver through her body. Her breath hitched as he aligned himself with her wet entrance, his eyes dark and intense as they met hers.

“You ready, baby?” he asked, his voice low and husky, laced with both desire and concern.

Y/N nodded, her heart pounding in anticipation. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside her. “I’m ready.”

With a slow, deliberate movement, he pushed into her, his eyes never leaving hers as he gave her time to adjust. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her nails digging into his shoulders as she felt him stretch her, fill her completely. It was overwhelming, almost too much, but in the best way possible. A cry escaped her lips as she struggled to take all of him, her body trembling under the intensity. He had done his best to prepare her, to be as gentle as he could, but the sheer size of him was still a challenge.

“Relax, darling,” he murmured, his voice soft and reassuring. “Stop squirming, and it’ll be easier for you, I promise.” He pressed a tender kiss to the tears streaming down her face, a small smile tugging at his lips. He’d noticed it before—how her eyes tended to water when she was particularly aroused. Maybe it was the darker, more sadistic part of him that found it so captivating. He couldn’t help but revel in the knowledge that, from now on, he would be the only one to see her like this—so vulnerable, so undone, so completely his.

She nodded, focusing on his voice, on the way his hands stroked her sides, grounding her. Slowly, the initial discomfort began to fade, replaced by a deep, throbbing pleasure that made her toes curl. Her hips shifted instinctively, seeking more of him, and Jason groaned, his head dropping to her shoulder.

His pace quickened as he felt her body finally begin to adjust to his size, the initial tension giving way to a rhythm that was both punishing and intoxicating. “Mine. Mine. Mine,” he chanted, each word a declaration, a promise, punctuated by a deep, relentless thrust that drove the air from her lungs. Y/N clung to him, her fingers digging into his back as he rocked into her, the pleasure unfurling down her spine like a live wire, setting every nerve ablaze.

“Fuck… Red…” she gasped, her voice trembling, barely audible over the sound of their ragged breaths and the slick, rhythmic slap of skin against skin.

In that moment, there was nothing else in her mind but him. The sound of his low, guttural groans, rough and primal, filled the room, mingling with her own desperate cries. She could see the way his brow furrowed in ecstasy, his face a portrait of raw, unbridled pleasure. His swollen lips hovered inches from hers, close enough that she could feel the heat of his breath, yet he held back, as if savoring the tension, the anticipation. Even the dim, flickering light of the candles seemed to wrap around them, casting a warm, golden glow that cocooned them in their own private world—a world where nothing else mattered, where they were safe from the chaos and horrors that waited outside.

“You’re mine, understood?” he growled, his voice rough and commanding, cutting through the haze of pleasure that clouded her mind.

Y/N barely registered his words, let alone processed them. The onslaught of sensation was too much, too overwhelming, leaving her unable to form a coherent thought, let alone respond. Her body was a live wire, every nerve alight with pleasure, her mind blank except for the feel of him, the sound of him, the sight of him. But then, suddenly, he stopped, and the sharp sting of a light slap on her cheek brought her back to the present. Jason grabbed her face, his large hands squishing her cheeks together as he forced her to look at him, his eyes dark and intense, burning with a possessiveness that sent a shiver down her spine.

“I said,” he continued, thrusting into her again with a pace that was both punishing and exhilarating, “you’re. fucking. mine. Is that clear?”

His words were firm, demanding, and laced with a possessiveness that left no room for argument. Y/N nodded as best as she could, her breath hitching as she managed to choke out a weak, “Yes. I'm yours I promise.”

Jason’s expression softened slightly, though his movements remained relentless, each thrust driving his point home. “Good,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, almost tender growl. “Because I’m not letting you go, angel. Not now, not ever.” His words were a vow, a promise that wrapped around her as tightly as his arms did. And as he continued to move inside her, his pace unyielding, Y/N felt a strange sense of comfort in his possessiveness. It wasn’t just about control or dominance—it was about belonging. In his arms, under his touch, she felt wanted, needed, cherished in a way she never had before. The world outside might be cruel and unforgiving, but here, with him, she was safe. She was his, and he was hers, and nothing else mattered.

As the pleasure built to a crescendo, Y/N’s cries grew louder, her body trembling as she teetered on the edge. Jason’s hands moved to her hips, gripping her tightly as he drove into her with increasing urgency, his own release drawing near.

“Come for me, angel,” he growled, his voice rough and commanding. “I want to feel you fall apart.”

Her body trembled as she came undone, a creamy layer of her release coating the base of his cock, a sight that sent a surge of satisfaction through him. Jason wasn’t far behind, his own climax hitting him with such force that it left him shaking. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breath hot against her skin as he rode out the waves of his release, his grip on her tightening as if he never wanted to let go.

When the intensity finally subsided, they both lay there, their bodies still intertwined, their breaths slowly returning to normal. Jason pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder, his arms wrapping around her in a protective embrace. Y/N’s body felt boneless, every muscle relaxed and humming with the lingering echoes of pleasure.

“You’re incredible,” he said, his voice filled with awe and affection. “Absolutely incredible.” Y/N smiled weakly, her body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure. “Y’know, I regret not making you mine sooner,” Jason continued, holding her close, his arms wrapping around her like a shield.

“You know you haven’t even asked me yet,” Y/N reminded him, her voice soft but teasing.

“What is it that you want us to be, Y/N?” he asked, his tone earnest. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be, as long as you’re mine. If you want a friend with benefits, a boyfriend, or even a husband—it can all be arranged. Just say the word.”

“I like the second option for now. But you know,” she said, her voice light but laced with curiosity, “for someone who’s willing to marry me, you haven’t even told me your name or shown me your face.” Her fingers trailing along his face, relying solely on touch to piece together his features. From what she could feel, he had a chiseled jawline, high cheekbones, and a straight nose. But one feature stood out more than the others—a scar. It started under his left eye, trailing down to the bridge of his nose, with a jagged curve at the center that almost formed a malformed J.

Jason hesitated, his body tensing slightly. “I will, darling. It’s not that I don’t trust you. I just—” He paused, his voice faltering, the weight of his secrets pressing down on him. Y/N cut him off before he could finish, not wanting to make him feel worse. She hadn’t meant it as a jab to hurt him—it was more of a lighthearted tease. She knew he had his own struggles, his own reasons for keeping parts of himself hidden, and she understood that.

“I know, don’t worry,” she said softly, her hand resting on his cheek. “Take your time, Red. But I have a request.”

“Anything,” he said without hesitation.

“Can you tell me the first letter of your name?” she asked. She knew he wasn’t ready to reveal his full name yet, but she hoped for something more personal than just “Red.” Jason paused, considering her request, then nodded. “Give me your palm.” She extended her hand toward him, and with his index finger, he traced the first letter of his name on her palm.

“Your name starts with a J?” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. “That’s nice because it’s a cool nickname on its own. Right, Jay?”

His heart leapt at the way she said it—soft, playful, perfect. But there was also a pang of guilt. He hated that she had to settle for fragments of him, for pieces instead of the whole. Still, he couldn’t help the warmth that spread through him at her acceptance, at the way she made even the smallest part of him feel special.

He leaned in, capturing her lips in a deep, lingering kiss that left her breathless. When he finally pulled back, his voice was low, tinged with a hint of regret. “That’s right, baby,” he murmured, his thumb brushing her cheek. “And one day, I’ll give you more. I promise.”

Her gaze drifted to the window, where the late evening sky was shrouded in dark clouds, a familiar sight in Gotham. Among the gloom, the Bat Signal shone brightly, cutting through the haze like a beacon. Her chest tightened as she stared at it, a knot of worry forming in her stomach. “Does that mean you have to go?” she asked, her voice soft as she pointed toward the signal. She knew all too well the weight of his responsibilities to the city.

Jason followed her gaze, his expression softening as he looked back at her. “No,” he said firmly, his hand reaching out to gently turn her face back toward him. “I asked Star and Arsenal to cover for me tonight. Tonight, I’m not Red Hood. Tonight, I’m just yours.”

Her eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and relief washing over her. “Really?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Really,” he confirmed, his lips curving into a small, tender smile. “Tonight, I just want to spend my time with my precious girl.”

Her heart swelled at his words, the tension in her chest easing as she leaned into him. For once, the city could wait. Tonight, he was hers, and that was all that mattered.

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Y/N stirred awake, her hand instinctively reaching out for Jason, only to find the other side of the bed empty. Her heart sank, a pang of panic tightening her chest as she sat up, clutching the sheets to her.

He left. The thought hit her like a punch to the gut. After everything they’d shared, after the way he’d held her like she was the most precious thing in the world, he’d just… left. Her mind raced, doubts creeping in. Had she been too much? Had he regretted it? She swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump forming in her throat.

But then, a faint aroma wafted into the room—something savory, something warm. Her nose twitched, and she froze, listening. The sound of faint clattering came from the kitchen, followed by the low hum of someone moving around. Her heart leapt, hope flickering back to life.

Before she could overthink it, the bedroom door creaked open, and there he was—Red, rather, Jay standing in the doorway with a tray in his hands. On it was a plate of perfectly cooked eggs, toast, and a steaming cup of coffee. His hair was slightly messy, and he was wearing nothing but his mask and the same pair of pants as yesterday that slung low on his hips. The sight of him, so casual and domestic, made her breath catch.

“Morning, angel,” he said, his voice soft but laced with that familiar roughness. “Thought you might be hungry.” Y/N stared at him, her emotions swirling—relief, joy, and a hint of embarrassment for jumping to conclusions. “You… you didn’t leave,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He tilted his head in confusion as he stepped closer, setting the tray down on the bedside table.

“Leave?” he repeated, his tone incredulous. “Why the hell would I leave?” He sat down on the edge of the bed, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. “You thought I’d just take off after last night?”

She looked down, her cheeks flushing. “I woke up, and you weren’t here, and I just… I thought maybe you regretted it or—”

“Hey,” he interrupted, his voice firm but gentle as he tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. “Listen to me. I don’t regret a damn thing. Not last night, not you, not us. I just wanted to make you breakfast. That’s all.”

Her eyes searched him, looking for any hint of doubt, but all she found was sincerity—and something deeper, something that made her heart skip a beat. “Really?” she asked, her voice small.

“Really,” he said, his thumb brushing her cheek. “You’re stuck with me, Y/N. Whether you like it or not.” A smile broke across her face, the tension in her chest melting away. “I like it,” she admitted, her voice soft but sure.

Jason reached out and patted her head, the simple gesture making her stomach flip. “Good,” he said, his tone warm but firm. “Now eat up. You spent a lot of energy yesterday. You need it.”

She laughed, the sound light and carefree, as she reached for the tray. “That I do. God, I’m starving. How’d you know strawberry pancakes were my favorite?” she asked, her eyes lighting up as she took in the stack of fluffy pancakes topped with fresh strawberries.

Jason hesitated for a moment, his mind flashing back to a memory from years ago—back when they were kids, and she’d mentioned it in passing. But he couldn’t admit that. Not yet. Instead, he shrugged, his tone casual. “It’s the only flavor of pancake mix I’ve seen in your pantry in months of knowing you.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “So you’ve been snooping in my pantry, huh?”

He smirked back, leaning against the headboard. “Call it reconnaissance. Gotta know what I’m working with if I’m gonna keep you fed.”

She laughed again, the sound filling the room with warmth, and took a bite of the pancakes. “Well, consider me impressed. These are amazing.”

Jason watched her eat, a small, satisfied smile playing on his lips. For a moment, everything felt perfect—the soft morning light, the easy banter, the way she looked at him like he’d hung the stars just for her. And for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be.

Jason’s smile faded slightly as he glanced at the clock on the nightstand. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Listen, angel,” he began, his voice tinged with regret, “I’ve got some… business to take care of. I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay?”

Y/N looked up from her pancakes, her expression softening. “Business, huh?” she said, her tone teasing but understanding. “Let me guess—something involving a certain red helmet?”

He smirked, though there was a flicker of something darker in his tone. “Something like that,” he said vaguely, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her forehead through his mask. “Don’t wait up. I’ll be back before you know it.”

She nodded, though a shadow of worry flickered in her eyes. “Be careful, Jay.”

“Always,” he replied, his voice steady as he grabbed his jacket and helmet from the chair by the door. With one last lingering glance at her, he got dressed and slipped out, the door closing softly behind him.

The warehouse was a tomb of shadows, its high ceilings swallowed by darkness and its walls stained with the grime of decades. The air was heavy with the stench of blood and sweat, the only sound the faint drip of crimson hitting the cracked concrete floor. A single flickering bulb hung from the ceiling, casting jagged shadows that danced like specters across the walls.

In the center of the room, Jason stood like a wraith, his red helmet gleaming under the sickly light. The man tied to the chair in front of him was barely recognizable—his face a grotesque mask of bruises and blood, his body trembling as he struggled against the ropes that bound him. His breaths came in ragged, wet gasps, each one a desperate plea for mercy that would never come.

Jason tilted his head, the movement unnervingly mechanical, as he circled the chair like a predator sizing up its prey. The man flinched with every step, his swollen eyes darting wildly, trying to follow Jason’s movements.

“You know,” Jason began, his voice low and distorted by the helmet’s modulator, “I’ve been looking forward to this. You’ve been on my mind ever since for a long long time.” He stopped in front of the man, leaning down so their faces were inches apart. “Stealing money from your own daughter and then coming back to hurt her ? No wonder not even Black Mask wanted you as one of his petty thugs.”

The man choked out a sob, his words slurred and broken. “I-I didn’t know… I didn’t know she was yours! I swear, I didn’t know!”

Jason straightened, his laugh a cold, hollow sound that echoed through the warehouse. “Mine? Now that's one thing you've said right. She's mine and you hurt her. Even as my future father-in-law, it's not something I can let go you know. She doesn't want to see you anymore you know.” His voice dropped to a whisper, venomous and deadly. “So you should disappear.”

He reached into his belt and pulled out a knife, the blade catching the light as he turned it over in his hand. The man’s eyes widened in terror, his breathing quickening as he struggled against the ropes. “P-please… I’m sorry! I’ll never go near her again, I swear! Just let me go!”

Jason tilted his head again, the motion almost playful, but there was nothing playful about the way he stepped closer, the knife glinting in his hand. “Sorry?” he repeated, his tone mocking. “You think sorry fixes this? You think you can just say a magic word and make it all go away?” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a menacing growl. “This isn’t about forgiveness. This is about consequences.”

The man screamed as Jason brought the knife down, the blade slicing through flesh with surgical precision. Blood pooled on the floor, the metallic scent filling the air as Jason worked methodically, his movements calm and deliberate. He didn’t rush. He didn’t lose control. This wasn’t rage—it was calculation. Every cut, every slice, was a message. A reminder.

“You see,” Jason said, his voice eerily calm as he wiped the blade on the man’s shirt, “I don’t just kill people. I make sure they understand why they’re dying. And you?” He leaned in close again, his voice a whisper. “You’re dying because you thought you could hurt her and walk away. But here’s the thing about me—I don’t let things go.”

“Oh, and since you’re about to die,” Jason added, his tone almost casual, “I’ll let you know who killed you.” He pressed the back of his helmet, and it opened with a hiss, revealing his face. He looked directly at the man, the one he’d hated for so, so long.

“Do you remember who I am?” he asked, his voice cold and steady, his green eyes locking onto the man’s terrified gaze.

It was just another one of those days when Jason didn’t feel like going home. Instead, he found himself lounging in his second home—Y/N’s house—flipping through one of the library books she’d borrowed. The quiet comfort of her room was a refuge, a place where he could breathe without the weight of his own life pressing down on him.

The door creaked open, and Y/N slipped inside, closing it softly behind her. “Jase, come here,” she said, her voice low but excited, her eyes sparkling with a secret she couldn’t wait to share. Jason’s curiosity was instantly piqued, especially when he noticed the small box clutched in her hands.

“What is it?” he asked, setting the book aside and sitting up.

Y/N’s smile was radiant as she opened the box, revealing a neat stack of dollar bills. “I finally saved up enough to get that pink flip phone I told you about!” she announced, her voice bubbling with pride.

Jason’s eyes lit up. “Really? That’s amazing! Once you have a phone, I can call you from my mom’s!” he exclaimed, his excitement matching hers. The two of them broke into an impromptu celebratory dance, their laughter filling the room. For a moment, everything was perfect.

But the moment shattered as the front door slammed open, the sound echoing through the house like a gunshot. Y/N’s face fell, her joy evaporating in an instant. Her father was home.

Jason had heard enough stories to know what that meant. Y/N’s father was a cruel, useless man—a gambler, a drunk, and a bully who took his frustrations out on his wife and daughter. He didn’t contribute a dime to the household; instead, he drained what little they had. And when he was in one of his moods, no one was safe.

“Jason, get under the bed,” Y/N whispered urgently, her voice trembling. “Do not—and I mean do not—come out. Okay?” Before Jason could protest, she shoved the box of money into his hands and pushed him toward the bed. He scrambled underneath, his heart pounding as he watched Y/N’s feet shuffle nervously on the floor above him.

The door to her room burst open, slamming against the wall with a force that made Jason flinch. Y/N’s mother was clinging to her husband, her voice pleading. “I already gave you everything I have! She’s just a kid—she has nothing, I swear!”

“A kid with a job,” her father snarled, his voice dripping with venom. “Do you think I’m so stupid I wouldn’t know?”

There was a sickening crack as he backhanded Y/N’s mother, sending her stumbling into the room. She collapsed near Y/N, who immediately dropped to her knees beside her. “Mom!” Y/N cried, her voice breaking as she tried to shield her mother. Y/N’s father loomed over them, his face twisted with rage. “What do you want?” Y/N demanded, her voice shaking but defiant as she glared up at him, her eyes burning with hatred.

“You ungrateful brat!” he roared, his hand raised to strike again. “How dare you talk back to me?”

Under the bed, Jason clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white, his chest constricted with a mix of rage and helplessness. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to burst out, to shield Y/N and her mother from the monster towering over them. But he couldn’t. Not yet. All he could do was lie there, frozen, as the sounds of their suffering filled the room. Each cry, each plea, etched itself into his mind.

“You think you can hide money from me?” her father snarled, his voice booming like thunder. “Where is it? Where’s the money you’ve been saving, you little thief?”

“I don’t have any money!” Y/N shot back, her voice trembling but defiant. “I swear, I don’t!”

The sharp crack of a slap echoed through the room, followed by Y/N’s cry of pain. Jason’s stomach twisted, his breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps as he fought to stay silent. He could hear Y/N’s mother pleading, her voice breaking as she tried to shield her daughter.

“Please, stop! She’s just a child! Take whatever you want, just leave her alone!”

“Shut up!” her father roared, his voice dripping with venom. There was another sickening thud as he shoved Y/N’s mother aside, sending her crashing into the wall. “Both of you are useless! Do you know how much I’ve sacrificed for this family? And this is how you repay me? By hiding money from me?”

Y/N’s mother continued to beg, her voice desperate and broken, but her pleas fell on deaf ears. Jason heard every slap, every kick, every cruel word that followed. His eyes burned with unshed tears, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. He could hear Y/N’s quiet sobs, the sound cutting through him like a knife, tearing at his heart in a way he’d never felt before.

“Now,” her father sneered, his voice dripping with malice, “will you give me the money, or do you want me to move onto the little brat you’re hiding under your bed?” He yanked Y/N’s head up by her hair, forcing her to look at him. Despite her pain, Y/N grabbed his ankle, her voice trembling but desperate. “Please, not him. I’m begging you. I’ll give you everything. Just don’t hurt him, please.”

She crawled to the side of her bed, her movements slow and pained, and extended her hand toward Jason, who lay under the bed clutching the box of money like his life depended on it. Jason shook his head vehemently, his eyes pleading with her not to give in. He’d rather take the beatings himself than hand over the money she’d worked so hard to save. But Y/N, her face streaked with tears, whispered a broken, “Please,” and he had no choice but to relent.

She gave Jason a small, pained smile as she took the box from him and turned to her father. “That’s all I have. Take it.”

Her father snatched the box, his lips curling into a cruel smirk. “About damn time,” he spat before storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The house fell into an uneasy silence, broken only by the soft cries of Y/N and her mother.

Jason waited a few moments, his ears straining for any sign that her father might return, before carefully sliding out from under the bed. Y/N was sitting on the floor, her arms wrapped around her knees, her face buried in her hands. Her mother was beside her, gently stroking her hair, her own face streaked with tears. Jason hesitated, unsure if he should intrude, but Y/N looked up and saw him, her eyes red and swollen.

“Jase…” she whispered, her voice barely audible. He crossed the room in two strides, dropping to his knees beside her. “I’m here,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m here.”

Y/N leaned into him, her small frame shaking as she cried. Jason wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly, his own tears slipping down his cheeks. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to make it better, so he just held her, letting her know she wasn’t alone.

Her mother watched them, her expression a mix of sorrow and gratitude. “Thank you, Jason,” she said quietly. “For being there for her.” Jason nodded, his jaw tightening. He didn’t trust himself to speak. All he could think about was how much he hated Y/N’s father, how much he wanted to make him pay for what he’d done. But for now, all he could do was be there for her.

As the minutes passed, Y/N’s sobs gradually quieted, and she pulled away from Jason, wiping her tear-streaked face with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want you to see that.”

“Don’t apologize,” Jason said firmly, his hands gripping her shoulders as he looked her straight in the eyes. “You didn’t do anything wrong. He’s the one who should be sorry. Not you. Never you.”

Y/N nodded, but her gaze was distant, as if her mind had drifted somewhere far away, somewhere safer. Jason’s chest ached at the sight. He wanted to protect her, to shield her from all the pain in the world, but he knew he couldn’t. Not yet. After all, what could a child do against a grown man like him? The thought burned in his chest, a bitter reminder of his own helplessness.

“One day,” he said, his voice low but fierce, filled with a determination that belied his age, “I’ll grow up into a big, strong man, and I’m gonna make sure no one can ever hurt you again. I promise.”

Y/N looked at him, her eyes searching his, and for the first time that night, a small, fragile smile tugged at her lips. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. “I know you will, Jase,” she said softly, her voice carrying a quiet faith that made his heart swell. “I know.”

And in that moment, Jason made a silent vow. No matter what it took, no matter how far he had to go, he would keep that promise. For her, he’d do anything. For her, he’d become someone strong enough to stand between her and the world. For her, he’d make sure she never had to cry like this again.

The man’s bloodshot eyes widened as he stared at Jason’s face. The bruises and scars couldn’t hide the boy he once knew—the boy who had cowered under the bed, powerless to stop him. “You…” he croaked, his voice trembling with disbelief. “You’re that kid… the one who Y/N used to bring home…”

Jason’s lips curled into a cold, humorless smile. “That’s right,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “I’m the kid you thought you could push around. The kid you thought would never fight back.” He leaned in closer, his green eyes blazing with fury. “But guess what? I’m not a kid anymore.”

The man’s face paled, his body trembling as the realization sank in. “P-please… I didn’t know… I didn’t know it was you…”

“You didn’t know a lot of things,” Jason said, his voice icy. “But you’re about to learn one last lesson.”

The man’s screams turned to gurgles, his body slumping in the chair as blood poured from his wounds. And as the life drained from his eyes, Jason stood, his chest heaving, his hands stained with blood. He looked down at the man who had caused so much pain, the man who had haunted his memories for years, and felt no remorse. Only cold detached satisfaction.

He pressed the back of his helmet, and it closed with a hiss, sealing away his face once more. “Rest in hell,” he muttered, turning on his heel and walking away. The warehouse fell silent, the only sound the faint drip of blood hitting the floor.

Jason had kept his promise. And he would keep it for the rest of his life. For her. Always for her.

a/n: Got sidetracked with several new projects but we made it gang (Even though it's almost a year late). So yay me and suck on that ADHD and College. Comment to be added into the tag list and I’m taking some requests for Part IV’s smut and suggestions for plot points since I'm running low on brain juice.

Tags : @thisisafish123 @ceramic-raven @millyhelp @blamedbisexual @trunkswithlonghair-blog @jasontoddthings @deans-spinster-witch @12134z03 @sophiethewitch1 @johnnysilverhandeeznuts @yasmin-oviedo @rosecentury @pierayanna @jinviktor @crybaby-21 @solarrexplosion @sahana28banana @ari-sama21 @princessbl0ss0m @fictionalwhor3 @leeleecats @lalalozer @shkosm

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 : @hana-no-seiiki

Told you I’d write it and tag you in it.

And this anon

Thank you and I tried to make it worth the wait. ily </3

[miniaturesuitgladiator]

Yandere platonic Batfam x

Child Girl scout reader!

Notes: reader is a child in this.

Warnings ⚠️: mentions of kidnap and reader is low class. Not proofread. Please do not judge my girl scout logic I am not a girl scout and have never been one!

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

The manor was as dull as ever lately. The big fancy walls of the place only felt colder as time went on.

Dick had broken up with Kori for the umpteenth time that month and was living at the manor ,or more like mopping at the manor..

On rare occasions Cass would stop by. And if they were very lucky jason would stop by and say hi every now and then.

Bruce was as cold as ever not being able to catch the joker and being behind in alot of meetings.

Duke was frustrated with his over all high-school experiences.

And Cass was pretty sure she was going through a mid life crisis despite her still being young.

Pretty soon Tim would graduate high-school and Bruce new he'd be off to living his own life.

Now damian was still pretty young but he didn't really count for a kid. Atleast not in Bruce's eyes. Damian lacked that child imagination. That childish spark. And bruce will admit he is partially to blame....

But on a particular lucky day they had met you!

Or more like Alfred had met you first. And that began the overly possessive vigilanty family to fall absolutely in love with your cute self!

You were about seven never having been blessed with a high class life but your mama sure did try and give you her best!

You oh! so desperately wanted to be a girl scout!

And who was mother to break your heart and tell you she didn't have the money?

So she worked extra shifts at the hospital. Her being a nurse meant that most of her time she was at the hospital working.

But that never stopped her from dropping you off in some of the richest and hopefully safest neighborhoods in gotham so you could sell your cookies for the girl scouts.

She hated leaving you alone but she just couldn't resist your cute puppy dog eyes as you promised you'd be safe....and she really didn't have time to argue or should she'd be late to work, agian!

So with a kiss on the cheek from you and a smile she left. Leaving you on the richest street in gotham.

Sure being low class in gotham was hard but you never saw it that way. You always tried to be kind.

Because in your mother's words, 'in a world where you can be anything, be kind.'

So kind you were. Even to the stuck up little girl scouts who didn't like you because you were poor.

But you didn't pay them any mind! You loved being a girl scout! The other girls were probably just jealous you sold more cookies then them!

Atleast that's what your mama told you.

You smile and skip your way down the street pulling your wagon full of boxes of cookies behind you.

Walking up to each house with a smile on your face most bought some because how could they deny such a cute thing with chubby cheeks?

Sure they'd probably never eat the cookies from a low class kid but they couldn't find it in their cold, spoiled, hearts to say no to you! (They saw it as charity.)

Finally with your last boxes of cookies you pull your wagon with you as you walk up the long drive way and surprisingly the gate was open!

Stepping up to the big door you knock exactly three times.

Alfred being as confused as ever stops cleaning and checks the cameras only to not spot anyone on the footage.

Hesitatently he begins cleaning playing it off as his ears playing tricks on him. But he hears the knock agian. So he doesn't even bother with the camera.

Opening the front door his harsh gaze immediately softens at the sight of you!

Ofc the cameras wouldn't see you! You were to small to be seen on the ring camera!

Your just so cute with your little sash and badges! And your smiles so bright something that the old butler hasn't seen in a while...a genuine smile.

You have that child like wonder that's still in your eyes and by your little dirty shoes the butler knows you traveled a long way to get here.

"Hello sir. I'm here to offer you some of the best cookies in gotham. Girl scout cookies!" You say with one of the biggest smiles and happiest eyes!

"It's five dollars for a box or two boxes for nine! I only have chocolate chip and blueberry left." You say giving your speech like you've done a million other of times.

But this time it would change your life completely.....

To your complete surprise he hands you a hundred dollar bill and you hesitatently take it giving him your last two boxes.

"I don't have change sir....." You say trying to give him back the money to which he just shakes his head.

"Keep it...as a tip." He says his voice holding no pity like the others.

"Really?" You say your eyes shinning with excitement.

And by seeing your happiness Alfred knows you deserve it. So he nods and you take the old spy by surprise by hugging him.

"Thank you so much!" You say as you pull away jumping on the balls of your feet.

"I'll be back every Saturday to give you a box of cookies until I repay you!" You say skipping off with your wagon in tow.

Alfred looks at you with puzzled look did you not know what recieving a tip meant?

Well he wasn't going to stop you from coming back. Especially as you shoot him your absolutely adorable smile as you walk down the driveway and wave goodbye shouting a cute and kind.

"Have a blessed day!" As you leave.

Have a blessed day....Alfred definitely hasn't heard that in a long time..especially in gotham.

You were definitely diffrent...

But you had kept your word coming back every Saturday at 1pm sharp never missing a Saturday!

And each time Alfred would give you a hundred dollar bill saying it was your tip. And you'd give him a hug and tell him you'll be back every Saturday until you repay him!

Alfred doesn't exactly know what about you made him become so attached to you. Maybe it was your hugs? Or your sweet smile?

Either way he didn't mind because he'd wait by the door at 1pm sharp every Saturday waiting to see you walk down the driveway with your little red wagon and big toothy smile.

Eventually he did learn your name and how old you were and you learned quite a bit about him too.

Until one day the he had gotten so caught up in cleaning the manor he didn't even realize that he was about to miss his favorite part of the week!

There was a knock on the door exactly three times just like there always was on Saturday at 1pm for the past few months.

But this time it wasn't the sweet butler you had come accustomed too. No, now it was a big fancy looking man with blue eyes.

"Hello?" He says his voice much softer then it would look like he'd sound like.

Your puzzled eyes search his looking for your dear friend.

"Hi?" You say as tilt your head still searching for your favorite costumer.

Bruce's eyes take you in... your far to young to be out here alone. Where are your parents? He wants to ask but more importantly who are you looking for?

"I usually come by here at this time....do you know where Mr. pennyworth is?" You say your eyes still searching around for the older man.

Bruce looks at you confused how did you know Alfred? Bruce eyes scan you seeing if your a threat but by the way you nervous fiddle around with it your sash as he continues to look at you he deems that your just a harmless child.

"He's inside...do you want to come see him?" He says his voice now much softer and his eyes aren't as cold as they once were. But you take a step back.

You might have been a kid but you aren't that stupid.

"My mama says I can't go in strangers houses.." You say as you look at him clearly looking for a place to hide.

Bruce nods as he sees your nervous deamor.

"Well I suppose I could bring him out to you." Bruce says and your eyes light up with excitement at the thought of seeing your dear friend agian.

And oh.... how bruce envies the old butler by how just the mention of him makes you smile.

Why was Alfred so important to you?

Bruce goes back in but Alfred is already on his way to the door finally remembering his favorite part of the week.

Bruce watches the interaction closely as you smile when Alfred gives you the money. And how sweetly you hug Alfred.

Bruce had initially thought you only came for the good money Alfred was giving you but the way you smiled was kind...and very adorable.

The whole interaction was definitely wholesome and bruce couldn't help but want to be apart of it...he so desperately wished someone would hug him as happily you hug Alfred...

Bruce being the jealous man he is started to be the one opening the door every Saturday at 1pm enjoying your happy smiles and childish jokes you would tell him as you waited for Alfred to come to the door.

And just like Alfred Bruce always made sure he'd never be busy on Saturday at 1pm because rain or sunshine you'd be at their door.

Eventually it was raining very hard and your mother not checking the weather app before you left had left you alone in the rain with no way to contact your mother.

You do your usual houses ending up at the manor at 1pm and despite the hash rain you still had that cute toothy smile on your face that they loved seeing.

"Hi Mr, Wayne!" You happily say...always so happy.

Bruce smiles you always call him Mr. Wayne even when he tells you not to. You must have very good manners or are just very forget he thinks to himself.

"Hello sweetheart." He says. He's called you sweetheart since the second time he had met you.

Now bruce wasn't that into nicknames but for you the nickname really matched. You were just too sweet.

After you do your usual talking with Alfred and bruce you turn to walk back in the rain.

"You can't possibly walk back in that rain, sweetheart." Bruce says his voice edged with worry and concern.

But you dismiss his concern with a shrug and a smile.

"I've walked in worse.. plus my mama is gonna pick me up soon!" You say happily giving them their two boxes of cookies and walking a way.

But they don't smile back this time when you yell. "Have a blessed day!" Like you always do.

No, their eyes circle around everything about you. About the rain. How harshly it's hitting your skin. How wet your hair is getting. How heavy your little red wagon must be for you as it continues filling up with water.

They watch as you slowly disappear down the long driveway their hearts still longing to help.

But altimately they decide that they can't do anything. Your not their kid. They can't offer you a ride because they know you'd never accept.

They don't even know the name of your mother let alone her number. How were they supposed to verify if your mother was really going to pick you up?

Or were you just going to walk home in the rain?

You'd surely get sick... and after after about five more minutes the two men come to the conclusion that.....fuck the rules you were definitely not going to be walking alone in the rain.

So with Alfred handing bruce the keys bruce quickly took off in his black Mercedes.

You continue walking down the street trying not to feel scared as the lightning strikes agian. And when a black and very nice car pulls up beside you you walk faster.

You knew how much your mother worried...the last thing she needed was for you to get kidnapped!

But the car kept up with your pace and the window rolled down and as much as you tried not to you couldn't help but turn your head to see who was driving the car.

You immediately stop walking as you see the driver.

"Hi Mr. Wayne!" You say smiling and bruce can't even register a real smile as he takes in how your soaking wet from head to toe. And he just knows that those old shoes are probably hurting your feet.

"Hey sweetheart......how about I give you a ride?" He says his voice pleading as he pulls the car to a complete stop.

You look at him and tilt your head and bruce has to stop himself from just getting out the car and picking you up and putting you in himself.

Your adorable confused motions give away your response. So bruce speaks up agian.

"Just one ride to your house." He says still pleading but in his mind you don't really have a choice you are going to let him give you a ride.

"You won't kidnap me right?" You question and instead of bruce feeling offend or angry at that he smiles and shakes his head. You were trying to be safe. But that wasn't exactly a good question to ask.

Atleast not to the richest man in gotham who didn't have to necessarily kidnap you to keep you.

Reaching over and open the passengers seat for you Bruce shows you a award winning smile; a smile that not even the paparazzi has caught him with in years.

"Of course not sweetheart....come on get in."

And plus it's not considered kidnapping when you legally adopt someone right?

Thanks for reading! Part two here!

Likes Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

[acid-ixx]

you think dick was the type of brother who closed the door on brother!reader whenever he had the titans come over to the manor and maybe also the titans also didn’t bother to acknowledge the reader?

you guys don't know the amount of appreciation i have for asks like this, it's the main reason why i'm so motivated to write— all because of interactions so !! please don't feel bad if an ask would be too long for you because i guarantee i'll always answer with a longer one <3 so don't hesitate to send in something!!!

pre-yandere dick would be the type of brother to not even know you're in the same room as him and the titans, not until someone like garfield or kori would bring up your presence in the room, which kind of worsens the situation for you because the first ones to notice your existence were his literal teammates.

once dick does acknowledge you, though, you'll be simply met with a sheepish smile and an awkward apology for not finding you there in the corner earlier, to which his comrades would be left wondering who the random kid is, and why you are inside the manor in the first place.

the situation itself would worsen your perception of dick. just imagine the silence in the room as dick's wide eyes would stare at you in disbelief; it's as if you don't even belong to be in the same room as them.

you'll simply be left running out of the room, tears welling up on your eyes as you run to the kitchen, not wanting to further embarrass yourself in front of his friends the same way you did so with damian when he was with jon— you don't want to remember the sword damian threatened you with, and you don't want a repeat of that but with dick's escrima sticks.

he wouldn't hear the end of it from alfred, who would absolutely demolish him right after his hangout, but that wouldn't change anything at all, not until a few months after your leave.

coming back to the present yan! dick: one way you could guilt trip him to leaving you for a second would be bringing up that memory, watching as his brains churn to recall the experience, his face immediately turning from an expectant grin to a grimace.

he hates letting his baby bird feel that way, and he'll take what you said into heart as a signal for attention. you're saying that because you want for him to make it up to you, no? oh, you're so mean to dick but he gets where you're coming from!

the next thing you know, he'll be forcefully taking you into his arms and refusing to let you go, whispering whilst his head lays on your neck on how he'll bring the titans back to the manor for a 'proper introduction' since he doesn't want his baby bird to feel forgotten no more.

well, that's an x off your list of "ways to get a single second of privacy inside the wayne manor."

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

you opened up soulmate friday? thank you!!! 🩷🩷🩷

ok so if you haven't already had too many JayTim request what about Yandere Tim bc i feel like he'd be even more unhinged in a soulmate au

if you aren't taking any more of that ship HaniHaru with a Yandere Hani would also be really fun i just think he deserves to be more manipulative

“Are you safe?” Roy asked Jason. The man gave his friend a confused look.

“What?”

“Are you safe? I… Tim messages me asking why you weren’t answering his messages,” Roy said.

“Yeah I’m fine. I updated him I was asleep,” Jason held up his arm that had writing on it. Roy nodded, trying to think of how to bring up what he wanted. “Tim and I are fine,” Jason said.

“I didn’t… I…” Roy winced. “He’s intense.”

“I am aware,” Jason said. “He already described how he’d kill me if I ever did anything to ruin our relationship.” He smiled, eyes twinkling.

“… you’re seriously into that?” Roy asked deadpanned.

“Yep. Tim murdered the Joker for me and handed me his head as our first gift,” Jason smiled happily. “I couldn’t ask for a better soulmate.”

“He tried to kill me and Kori.”

“Because you tried to hit on me. He didn’t like that,” Jason replied.

“How is this healthy?” Roy asked.

“How is anything we do healthy?” Jason asked. “My soulmate being a yandere is peanuts compared to everything else.”

“… oh my God you’re treating this like your romance novels.”

“And?”

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Yandere Bully x F! Reader

Forgot to post this to Tumblr, but this was requested by ElinaHiganbana on Wattpad.

Wanna buy me a kofi?: ☕

🎀🎀🎀🎀💖💖💖💖

TW: Noncon, dubcon, eating disorder, vomit, fatphobia, disturbing body descriptions, hair pulling, impregnation, degradation.

Today will be a good day. You won't feel like a piece of shit again. You can get through the day.

That's what you say to get through the day. It usually doesn't prove true, but you somehow manage to stay alive.

"Hey, Shamu! When is your fatass going to skip the gym again?" Kory, the boy responsible for your misery, yells, making his friends laugh.

You've been wearing your old clothes that are extremely baggy to cover up the sad state of your body. It feels weird having so much space between the clothing and your skin. Unfortunately, they don't help cover up the feeling of nausea. You run to the nearest bathroom and throw up stomach bile.

You can make it through the day. There are only eight more hours left.

You get up and walk to your first class, Calculus. By the time it's over, you barely remember what you learned. After moving through the rest of the day like a zombie, throwing up your lunch, you shuffle into the girl's changing room for the gym. You ignore the concerned and scared looks the other girls give you as you take off your shirt and pants. Admittedly, you know your body is a wreck. You can even see the veins that are supposed to be hidden by the skin on your arm. Unfortunately, your ass and chest have a bit more to go, but thankfully your boobs went from Gs to Cs. But it makes you feel good knowing Kory would have to create a new insult when you're nothing but skin and bone.

When you walk out of the changing room and go into the gym, your body bubbles with anticipation for Kory to see your body and think of something to say. You're perfect now. All of that fat has been shed to your liking. The gym is silent, and everyone is staring at you. You imagine spotlights pointing at you, and something deep inside you makes you walk with pride you shouldn't be feeling. Well, that is until you bump into your bully Kory. Your eyes meet his, and you swear you could see amazement flash between his brown eyes.

"Y/N, what happened to you?" Kory asks, his brown eyes looking all over your body.

"I don't know, but I don't feel hungry anymore," You reply, your cracked lips bleeding from just you smiling.

"Get away from me, you disgusting freak," Kory says, shoving you to the ground.

You fall and swear you could hear your heart shatter.

Why didn't he call you something else?

He didn't call you something else because you're so big and disgusting.

You're so disgusting, you attention whore.

Your eyes shift to the white ceiling, and suddenly, your vision gets enveloped in white. If this is what death feels like, it feels so warm and nice, like you're swaddled in the first blanket you ever touched as a baby.

~~~~~~~~~

When you wake up, you're underneath the covers of someone's bed sheets. They smell like men's body spray, B.O., and sex. You wanna throw up, but someone puts a hand over your mouth, stopping you.

"If you throw up on my bed, I swear I'm going to ruin your ass," Kory growls, glaring at you. "How long has it been since you ate a meal?"

You stay silent and look away, not wanting to spill your guts.

"Since you wanna try and play games with me, I'll just punish you until you answer me," Kory says, aggressively pulling your hair and forcing your head to go up. "How long has it been since you ate a meal?"

"Two weeks," You croak, earning a kiss on the neck from Kory.

"Good girl," Kory replies, letting go of your hair and pulling down his sweatpants. "I know it'll take time for you to eat full meals again, so why don't we start slow."

Before you even have a chance to say anything, his hand is grabbing your hair again and shoving his cock into your mouth. You choke on his length as he forces you to take all of it.

"Did you really think I was going to help your pathetic ass without me getting some pleasure from it?" Kory groans, thrusting his hips as you choke on his cock. "Jesus, you useless piece of bones, breathe through your nose."

You do as he says through the tears, hoping he takes mercy on you. He bobs your head more and more until your whimpers are taken over by the sounds of you sucking his cock.

"I'm going to cum in your mouth, and you're going to swallow it. Don't even attempt to make a run for the toilet to throw up, or else I'll fill up all of you with cum," Kory says, riding through his high as he presses your head harder to make sure you don't lift your head until he's done.

Kory cums into your mouth, and you feel it go straight to the back of your throat and to your stomach.

"Haha, great, now there's some calories in your stomach," Kory laughs, pushing you onto your back as he takes off your pants. "Now I get to eat you out."

You try to close your legs, but Kory forces them open.

"Just for that, I'm going to finger you instead," Kory says, getting up and holding one of your legs open.

With his other hand, he puts three fingers in and immediately fingers you with speed. You try not to let out any moans, but the minute Kory sticks his whole entire fist in, you lose it.

"Ah, fuck, Kory, faster!" You moan, making Kory laugh at you.

"Aw, is my Little Bunny not in control of her body? You wanted my attention so bad, didn't you?" Kory mocks, laughing at your hands, unbuttoning your shirt to get to your boobs.

"Yes, yes, yes!" You scream, making Kory laugh at you more. "Please, make me cum!"

Kory laughs and kisses you on the lips.

"Tell me when you're cumming, Bunny," Kory whispers in your ear, licking your neck.

"I'm going to cum, Kory! I'm going to cum right now!" You moan, wrapping your arms around Kory's bare back.

Kory takes his hand out of your pussy and flips you over.

"No!" You whine, missing the high you were feeling.

"Don't worry, Bunny. I told you I was going to help you," Kory says, grabbing your hair while his other hand is on your ass. "You're going to get big and pretty again just for me."

Kory starts thrusting into you while pulling your hair, and you eventually lose yourself.

"Harder! Harder, Kory!" You moan, making him chuckle.

Both of your bodies become sweaty, and the sound of skin slapping together becomes more frequent. Even the bed is shaking like there's an Earthquake happening.

"I'm about to cum, baby!" Kory yells, tightening his grip on your hair.

"AUGH! Me too!" You scream, a knot forming in your stomach.

Kory yanks your hair hard as he cums into your pussy. You cum onto his dick and scream as an orgasm ravages you. Kory lays on top of your chest and leaves a hickey on your neck.

"If you ever think about starving yourself or throwing up any food you eat ever again, I'll shove food down your throat myself. Only I get to degrade you, Bunny," Kory threatens, keeping a tight grip on your arm. "Now, relax, and I'll get you breakfast."

"How did I even get here?" You ask, rubbing Kory's head of straight black hair.

"You passed out, and I took you to my house since I wanted to talk with you privately," Kory answers, leaving a trail of kisses. "Any other questions, Bunny."

"Are you going to make me drop out of college?"

"Temporarily. You're too sick to be going in this state. Don't worry, I'll take care of you, Bunny."

[gangrenados]

Do you have any thoughts on dating Kori and the outlaws? What's a relationship like w all of them? How possessive is she on her own? What kind of partner is she?

•Kori is truly a sweetheart, she's caring and understanding and she tries her best to make things work with you.

•Kori is not afraid to show her love for you in any way imaginable, that being said I must warn you that this woman loves physical affection. I don't mean only sexual stuff, but things like hugs, kisses, just love caresses in general.

•She might come off as a bit too intense if you're not really into PDA, but it's okay, she'll try to tone it down if you ask.

•Out of all the Outlaws I think Kori is the one you could go to talk about your feelings, she'll try to understand or maybe give advice or her point of view of the situation.

•Now about possessiveness? (Talking in a yandere point of view) Kori doesn't want to scare you, so she will swallow both her pride and jealousy in order to not kill all the progress she has made with you.

•She might look happy and all lovely, but deep down she's burning with rage at the thought that you might want to be with someone else that is not them.

• The Outlaws care about you, she cares about you can't you see it?

•Kori is only down to share you with Jason and Roy, that's it. Not if or but, not even if you're the one to bring them up.

•If necessary Kori would take care of the things that try to take you away from them.

[maddheaven]

My Interpretation of Yandere Dick Grayson/Nightwing - also a ramble post, kinda.

It’s been awhile since I’ve found time to write something. I was gonna write a short ramble post about my version of Yandere Dick Grayson but I had work to do.

Otherwise here it is:

So most versions of Yandere Dick I’ve read of him being extremely dark and sadistic towards his darling. Personally, I think this portrayal of Yandere Dick is interesting, and a little fun to write, because you don’t have to follow his optimistic values and traits, and just go crazy with it. Over time though - and now that I finally found time to read some comics and stuff, getting my inspiration juices flowing - it kinda got old and overused for me. While I do like the take on it, there are some parts of it that I would do differently or change completely like him having a full-blown freak-out and accusing his darling of cheating, ya know, screaming, shouting, punching things and all. I also like the soft yandere version of Dick, and incorporate some parts of that as well based on the few that I've read.

So with some inspirations from headcanons, and a bit of daydreaming, here is what I came up with:

Even before his parents' death. Grayson felt this deep, subconscious need for normalcy; for some semblance of ordinary.

He grew up moving around a lot, being in a circus act and all, and therefore, never had a real home.

Dick wanted the white picket fence, he wanted the typical suburban house, and he dreamed of being married to the love of his life with a bunch of kids, and maybe, a pet or two running around.

When his parents died, the only affection he ever had was ripped away from him leaving a dark void in his heart.

Despite being adopted by Bruce, and getting acquainted in his new home, that empty spot in his chest never went away.

He went through a couple of partners, Kori and Barbara included, had a few heartbreaks, but that empty feeling stayed.

Something was missing, he wasn’t sure what it was.

He cared for his previous partners, stayed loyal to them the whole way, yet there wasn’t a ‘click.’

There are multiple ways he could’ve come across you.

Either you were a civilian he saved from danger as Nightwing, helping you out as an officer, or maybe you met during a walk out in Bludhaven or Gotham.

However he met you, there was an instant click.

There was something, something about you, that was different.

His obsession comes in waves.

First: He’s interested, and starts watching out for you - not to the point of stalking yet.

He'll try to strike up a conversation, start building some sort of friendship or acquaintance with you, anything to get to know you.

Second: Then that interest becomes intrigue, and now he’s following you wherever you go, wanting to learn more about you.

That need he felt for all of his life grows, and grows.

He can’t get you out of his head, he can’t stop thinking about you.

He could be taking on as many cases as a police officer, he could be fighting criminals in some alley.

Yet, no matter how hard he tries, his mind always wanders back to you.

It's conflicting for him; he knows he shouldn't be this obsessed with you yet.. nothing seems to get you off his mind!

But that all comes to a head, when he either sees you in danger or hanging around someone.

Then something snaps inside him.

He doesn’t like it, he doesn’t like it at all - he hates it.

Dick can’t deny his feelings anymore.

He needs to protect you.

He needs to be there for you.

He needs you.

Then comes the third wave:

He's around you more, he's taking every chance he can to spend time with you.

Sometimes, it can come off as clingy. But if you're the kind who doesn't notice subtle cues very well (like me), then he may just come off as someone who wants to be your friend.

And given his charismatic, and almost up-beat attitude, it wouldn't be surprising if you thought that.

However, there are some things with Dick that seem.. off.

He becomes eerily silent when that one friend, who you haven't seen in months, is talking to you.

Sometimes he'll tug at your wrist, force a smile whilst trying to make some excuse that you guys are in a hurry.

And as you guys get to know each other more, he gets more 'touchy.' More than what would be considered as 'friendly.'

Swinging an arm around you, resting his chin on your head, and one time, he put an arm around your waist while you guys were walking around the park.

But if there ever is a situation where someone is getting handsy with you, friendly or not, he steps in.

Hates when people touch you, but doesn't have any problem when it's only him, of course.

The man is more touch-starved than Jason.

As your relationship grows closer - or rather, he believes you and him are growing closer - then his tolerance would start to go down.

As for meeting him for the first time, Dick comes across as extroverted and friendly!

Very much a people person, so it isn’t hard to warm up to him.

If you aren’t the social type however, then he may come off as abrasive.

If he notices your slight discomfort, then he’ll ease up a bit.

He doesn’t like it if he sees you tense up or show any signs of discomfort around him - leaves a strange ache in his chest.

Though, he’ll admit, sometimes he likes to tease you because he finds some of your reactions adorable.

Dick is also patient to an extent.

If he sees that you’re avoiding him or making it obvious you aren’t interested, he’ll either eliminate all competition.

Anyone he thinks is getting in the way of him and your relationship, or would have a hand in getting anyone to avoid you.

Dick will make sure he is all you have.

If it's him, he'll either try to ‘fix’ his behavior around you or talk it out with you.

If neither works then.. well.. he'll be tempted to just take you.

With all the general stuff aside, there is one thing that I want to get into which is his temper.

Most headcanons I read are Dick having full-blown freak-outs - shouting, yelling, punching, throwing things ect.

I don't think he would do that, if anything, I think it would be much worse:

Let's say he kidnaps you and you aren't cooperating at all.

No matter what he does, all he gets is insults, profanity thrown at him, struggling - the whole shabang.

His patience isn't one to be tested, so as soon as you start acting out his demeanor changes in a snap.

His eyebrows would furrow, the usual ‘picture-perfect’ smile drops, and those shining blue eyes go cold.

His voice would drop low, he'll get real close to your face.

If you're struggling, he'll grab your wrist and squeeze it hard.

Every word he says, he not only wants you to hear, but to listen, ingrain it into your head.

The sudden shift in the air is too obvious to ignore, and that low voice is just.. too terrifying to tune out.

There’s a threatening undertone; a warning.

It’s incredibly eerie and tense.

The man is capable of anything - he was raised by Batman for god sakes! - and if he kidnapped you, god knows what the hell he’ll do to you.

To sum it up, Dick can be the most affectionate, loving boyfriend/husband you could ever have or he can be your absolute worst nightmare...

[simpingforblackfire]

Platonic Yandere Dick Grayson x reader x Platonic Yandere Starfire Part 5: Starfire Focused

A/N: Yo so it's been over a year I'm p sure and I plan on POSSIBLY re-writing this whole little series that have so far technically worked as one-shots I think, but here's something I wrote last year that I just never published.

Once you’ve slumped over in exhaustion and are in a humiliating heap of misery after having lost yourself to an unrelenting frustration that you had no outlet for. Then Starfire would begin to take pity on you. 

Her anger will usually quickly fade away upon seeing you so distressed so it really depends on how upset and pitiful you look that determines whether or not she’ll make you explain why you reacted as you had and then go back to the original conversation or if she’ll save that for another time.

She may sometimes leave the room in order to calm down if she’s that’s upset at you but otherwise if Dick isn’t there to reason with her that she should give you space and time to yourself before confronting you again then nobody can stop her from scooping you up into her arms and squishing you against her. 

Kori does feel bad for making you upset afterwards. She hates seeing you cry. Seeing your face scrunch up into a portrait of utter devastation aches her heart. She hates seeing you upset. She especially hates being the cause of your upset. So she’ll quickly seek your forgiveness whether you like it or not. She won’t regret her actions even if they were harsh because she believes that they were necessary. She’ll explain to you that she cares about you a lot and that she worried for you. She doesn’t want to see you upset and she doesn’t want you to be afraid of her. But she needs for you to listen to her because the world is dangerous and in order to protect you from it she needs you to trust her and listen to her. 

She’ll hold you against her while stroking your hair tenderly for a while and soon her repeated apologies will turn into a loving silence as she just sits in your room with you tucked in her lap and your head laying against her chest. She’ll only let go once she believes that you’ve calmed down enough. 

If Starfire had left any bruises on your arm then she will take it so much worse than you ever could. She won’t feel guilty for her anger but she will drop underneath the weight of guilt and shame if she sees she’s marked your skin. She knows you’re weak but in the heat of her anger she doesn’t realise how much pressure she’s applying to keep you still. She’ll put an ice pack on your bruises and insist on pampering all while feeling torn or whether or not she should give into her shame and leave you alone or if she should give into her protective instincts and embrace you. 

 Starfire will insist on ‘bonding time’ which will usually consist of sitting you on her lap in the living room so you can both cuddle under a blanket while watching films if it’s cold. If it’s too warm for that then after a non-negotiable cuddle she’ll sit you down in front of her so she can run her fingers through your hair gently. She’ll like to brush it with her fingers until it feels as close to silk as it could possibly get underneath her fingers. While that might not necessarily be possible for your hair she will be determined to make it feel soft underneath her fingers. 

She’ll fuss over you and make sure you’re constantly hydrated because she knows humans need to be hydrated constantly because of how fragile they are. She doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you because of her negligence. She just cares for you so much.

She hates making you upset. But it’s okay because she’ll know you’ll always forgive her.

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

Yandere dick and yandere kori x adrenalin junkie reader?

ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴜʀɴ ✬

ɴɪɢʜᴛᴡɪɴɢ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x sᴛᴀʀғɪʀᴇ (ʏ!)

omg anon I am so sorry for the late reply you were deep inside(🤯) my inbox😭 ilysm anon dear so sorry for making u wait and making dis short boring ass reply💗😢

ᴍᴏʀᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ!

There’s something about the moment right before impact. A razor-thin stretch of time where gravity abandons you, where air turns solid, where your body sings with the promise of a fall. It’s the kind of sensation that makes your pulse hammer against the cage of your ribs, that makes your fingers twitch, that makes you feel alive.

And they know it.

They watch you like fire watches a wick.

The three of you sit on the edge of the rooftop, the city stretching far beneath your feet. It’s an old, crumbling structure—one you had to shimmy up a drainpipe to reach, one that swayed ever so slightly in the wind. The kind of place that would send lesser mortals scurrying for safer ground. But for you?

You tip your head back and laugh, staring up at the sky, heart hammering as the air thins. You feel the weight of their eyes before you turn to meet them.

Kory’s gaze is molten, bright and all-consuming. Not in the way fire burns recklessly, but in the way it chooses what to devour. It’s worship and hunger wrapped in one, barely softened by the way she smiles, golden hair glinting under the neon haze of the city. Her legs dangle over the edge beside you, completely at ease, yet you can feel the tension in her muscles—ready to move, ready to save you if you fall, even if she has to burn down the world to do it.

Dick, on the other hand, is all restraint. He leans back on his palms, casual, like this is just another night, just another thrill. But you’ve known him long enough to see through the act. His fingers curl against the concrete, tapping out a rhythm against the rooftop—one-two, one-two-three. A habit. A tell. He’s measuring something. Calculating.

"You're thinking about it, aren’t you?" His voice is smooth, teasing. He already knows the answer.

You glance back over the edge. The streets below seem distant, the flickering streetlights turning everything into a distorted dream. Your grin widens. "Maybe."

Kory hums, tilting her head. "Would it be fun?"

"Absolutely."

Dick exhales through his nose, amusement laced with something deeper. Something darker. "You really want to give me a heart attack, don’t you?"

Your lips part to answer, but then—you move.

The wind howls in your ears. The world tips sideways. Your stomach twists into a sharp knot of weightlessness, and for a heartbeat, there is nothing but the drop. The rush. The moment where your body isn’t quite sure if it should prepare for impact or revel in flight.

But, of course, they catch you.

They always do.

Kory’s arms close around you first. A streak of fire, the heat of her body pressing against yours as she lifts you, her grip as unshakable as the stars. Dick is right behind her, the familiar coil of his grappling hook pulling both of you back toward the rooftop. They move like a unit. A force. A gravity all their own.

The landing is rougher than necessary. Not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you—they didn’t appreciate that little stunt.

Dick is on you in an instant, fingers digging into your waist, his breath sharp. Kory doesn’t let go either. Her arms remain wrapped around you, a lock of gold falling over your cheek as she leans in, forehead brushing yours.

"That was reckless," Dick murmurs.

"You do reckless things all the time," you counter, breath still uneven.

"Yes," Kory agrees, her voice warm. "But we are not willing to watch you fall."

You should be annoyed. You should roll your eyes, brush them off, tell them you had it under control. But there’s something in the way they look at you that makes your heartbeat stutter. Not anger. Not frustration.

Something deeper.

Something like devotion.

Dick’s thumb drags against your jaw, featherlight. His expression softens, but it does nothing to hide the storm behind his eyes. Kory’s arms tighten around you, pulling you close enough to feel the warmth of her skin through your clothes.

"You don’t get to scare us like that," Dick says, and there’s something final in his voice.

"Not ever," Kory whispers.

The way they hold you—it should feel suffocating. But instead, it feels like gravity.

[whore-ibly-hot]

Y'all remember Kory Koffman that soft English Teacher? Dawg, I don't know if I should hug and squeeze the air out of that or give him the most sloppiest slop ever. Either way, I love men like that.

"I appreciate this, so, so much you couldn't possibly understand..." He whispering out rambling statements. The occasional moan that slips from his lips he always manages to stifle by biting down lightly on his index finger, hands gripping the hard mahogany desk behind him.

He wants to make eye contact so bad, but he knows the sight of his perfect favorite student on their knees, suckling at his cock, would make him blow immediately, ruining the experience he wished he could make last forever. "Its been a long time." He admits. "A really long time since I've gotten to do anything like this; since anyone's done anything like this to me." He chuckles weakly, removing his fogged up glasses and setting them on the desk. "Being cooped up in here all day, as much as I love it doesn't leave me a lot of time to go out and pursue... other things." He admits.

A sudden hollowing of your cheeks makes him grian, failing to stifle it this time. "God, this is so good, shit, whew-" He's trying to keep it down. "I'm getting close, if you w-wanr me finishing elsewhere you have to pull off now." He warns, and the glance up you give him, pretty wet eyes, your refusal to move, make his cock twitch. It's over for him, and he lets out not a moan, but the most pitiful little squeak you've heard. "Shit!" He yells, immediately slapping his hand over his mouth as he bucks against your mouth, trying his best not to gag you.

He can't even bare to look as you swallow, he's sensitive, he doesn't want to go again but he knows if he sees that it'll all rush back to his now limp cock. Closing his eyes, a bead of sweat rolls down his forehead. "Thank you, tha k you again." After a moment, he's hears a shuffling fabric. He winces momentarily at the idea you're already getting up to go, when he feels a pressure on his chest. Fumbling for his glasses and sliding them on, he sees you leaned on him, arms around his waist in a soft hug.

He's worried at first. "Oh, my dear, oh no..." He strokes your back out of instinct. "Did i hurt you, or bruise you, I really didn't mean to; what do you need, what do you-"

You just look up at him, not hurt or crying "Tired." You mumble. "I'm tired, just sleepy." You explain.

He nods in understanding, releasing a breath in relief. "I see. You want me to move you to the couch by my desk. No one comes in at this time of night, I could let you rest while I finish up some work-"

"Wanna stay here." You mumble, yawning into his chest and muffling your sounds against his thick sweater vest. His face goes red, somehow more embarrassed by this than the public act of intimacy from earlier. He smiles, its giddy. He slowly lifts shaky hands to press you closer into him.

"Yeah. That can be arranged too."

[the-broken-truth]

Can you do yandere Starfire(justice league vs teen titans version)x reader where y/n had left Starfire and went to live off the grid in the woods to get away from kori due to her being possive jealous and clingy while y/n left her cabin to run to the store to buy food and when she comes back she see kori sitting on couch and blackmail manipulates her to get back with her and when y/n refuse and went to run kori broken her legs and took y/n back to metropolis and made her stay with her until she breaks her mental health

[Metorpolis]

Kori walked into her shared apartment with [Name] with a smile on her face as she walked into the building with a bag of [Name's] Favorite Food in her hand - she owed it to her, after what she did she needed to apologize to her for what she did yesterday. Starfire was in the city yesterday when she looked into a cafe window and saw her girlfriend with another woman, smiling and chuckling as if they were a couple. Kori nearly dropped her bags before she matched over to the cafe, snatched the door open, and marched over to [Name] and the unknown woman. [Name] looked up from her companion and looked at Kori before asking her what she was doing there but Kori yelled at her, "HOW COULD YOU ASK ME THAT IN SUCH A CLAM VOICE WHEN YOU ARE HERE CHEATING ON ME, [NAME]?!" Kori yelled, causing everyone to look at them and [Name] blushed in embarrassment. [Name] told Kori to calm down but the Alien Woman grabbed the mysterious woman by her shirt and yanked her out of the chair before demanding that she leave and never speak to her girlfriend again. Kori threw the woman to the ground, causing her to scurry to her feet and rush out of the door before yelling at [Name] that her girlfriend was crazy. Instantly, Kori turned her anger to [Name], who glared at her, "You have no right to be angry with me while you are cheating on me, [Name].", but [Name's] words caused Kori to look embarrassed at what she had just done.

"Kori...That's my cousin. She was just visiting this city and wanted to see me." [Name] said before collecting the laptop off the desk and sliding it into her computer bag before turning away from Kori and walking out of the door, leaving a surprised green-eyed woman behind. Kori facepalmed before apologizing to the people in the cafe and leaving the cafe. That night, Kori went to [Name's] Favorite Restaurant and collected some food before returning to their apartment and opening the door.

"[Name], I'm back. Look, I'm really sorry about what happened at the cafe but..." She stopped when she saw all of [Name's] things were gone and there was a letter on the table. Kori placed the food on the table before collecting the letter and reading it, the content caused her eyes to widen and water with tears.

Kori,

I am sorry, but I can no longer tolerate your jealous and clingy behavior. It has frightened my cousin, and she no longer wishes to speak with me because of your actions. Your behavior has been consistent since you ended your relationship with Dick to be with me. Though he accepted the breakup, you have been trying to control me ever since. I am asking you to please respect my boundaries and leave me alone. Find someone who is comfortable with your controlling nature, and kindly do not contact me again.

Goodbye, Kori.

The tears landed on the paper as Kori cried from the heartbreak she felt, her lover was gone and now she was alone. Kori sat on the sofa and let her tears fall - wondering where [Name] could have gone. She was going to find her and make her hers once again and this time, she was going to let her leave her ever again.

[2 Years Later]

[Name] picked up the strawberries container and placed them in her basket before going along her way down another aisle to find the bread. After collecting the bread, she walked to the registers and paid for her food before going to her car and walking to the driver seat, getting in, and driving back to her cabin in the woods on the outskirts of Metropolis. For the past 2 years, [Name] has been living in her father's cabin in the forest and living off the grid but sometimes she needed to head back to the city to get some things. For today, she needed some fruit and bread and she was heading back to her place when she felts something was wrong as she got out of her car, she looked around and didn't see anyone so she walked over to her door and walked inside, causing her to drop her food when she saw the person sitting on her sofa.

"Hello, my love." Kori said as she sat on the sofa with a smile on her face.

"What are you doing here, Kori?" [Name] snarled at Kori who stood up and walked over to [Name] who walked back from her.

"That doesn't matter, you are gong to come back with me or I am going to destroy your parent's business publicly." Kori said but [Name] just shook her head, "Then, we do this the hard way."

Suddenly, Kori's foot hit [Name's] knee bone - shattering it - causing her to fall before shattering the other knee. [Name] screamed in pain as Kori picked her up and walked out of the building and took to the skies before heading to their apartment in Metropolis - she was going to take back way her and break her lover's mind until she couldn't live without her.

[sea-owl]

Yandere superman being tolerant with batman taking on his rouges as it gives him a sense of purpose or whatever but when one of them takes it a step too far, that tolerance disappears and superman takes care of things, though I doubt batman would approve of his methods

I'm not gonna lie this sounds a little bit Iike Injustice/Justice Lords Superman.

But you know what be funny? If not only did the Batfam had an alien kink but also a yandere kink.

Starts with Supes and Bats, but when Kori pops up with Dick, Superman is secretly delighted to see himself in a female font.

Then it just gets bigger with Kara, Kon, Jon, Ry'andr, Mari, and Jake.

The bats have their yandere aliens who sometimes needs to step in with some less favorable methods.

Alfred knows, and if he looks the other way. Well, at least he knows their are others who will take that leap should it be needed.

[bednbunfast]

Yandere...wyenne...wirh with withhh Trickster...

I know,, you said disregard this but like,, IMAGINE...

-----•

Wyenne, a beautiful young lady with a penchant for rejecting any and all kinds of proposals. Most of which are confessions, but asking to be friends is part of it too. She's the one doing the rejecting here! Not to mention her fair share of stalkers in the first place... Poor Wyenne can't even count how many times she found herself in the start of a reverse-harem anime..!

So to find that she's fallen hard over— Ah, nevermind. It seems that she's in denial. Wyenne has absolutely no interest in anyone, let alone someone as clingy and... touchy... and... beautif— Snap out of it! She doesn't have feelings for anyone, especially somebody like Trickster.

Yet... This...? Why is her heart always so loud when Trickster's next to her? She's always distracted... thinking solely of the green-haired individual. Wyenne finds herself craving being around Trickster a lot. She feels... a lot softer too, like frozen chocolate melting at the touch. I mean, Wyenne? Laughing very loudly at her peer's shenanigans? Unheard of. Kori tried once, and the young woman only ever smiled.

Still, that just sounds like someone in denial. This isn't supposed to be "normal" lovey-dovey Wyenne, it's Yandere!Wyenne...

The young lady knows she's pretty. If some fool were to compare her to anyone, they'd call her Aphrodite. She'll use her charm to get more favorable scenarios, how hard can it be? Breaking a few hearts is nothing compared to what she'll do to honor Trickster.

She could get away with practically anything concerning normal average people. Pretty privilege goes a long way, you see. Trickster wants someone interesting, yes? She'll do it. Anything to catch and maintain the spotlight on her. Then again... she'll be the most interesting one if everyone else is a corpse, right?

----•

This isn't finished but,, waa,, I ran out of ideas,, I did this a few days ago and may have lost my train of thought which is... um,, whoopsies!! I will doodle a Yan!Wyenne in the future as compensation,, maybe...