Summary: Gojo has to tutor the pretty sorority girl, but the session quickly turns into something else.
WC: ~4200
Warnings: 18+
Notes: college au, virgin Gojo
♡ + ↻ always appreciated ♡
˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦ ˚ . ★⋆. ࿐࿔
. ˚ * ✦ . . ✦ ˚ ˚ .˚ ✦ . . ˚ . ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ ✦
Gojo doesn’t know how he found himself here.
He swore he was a good student; that’s all he had ever been—a part of the Gojo clan, someone to live up to the legacy. Excellence was expected of him, and nothing short of it. He lived and breathed these expectations through every waking moment.
But for today, as he was making out with you, the pretty sorority girl from class, he couldn’t help but think, To hell with expectations.
What makes matters worse is that Gojo wasn’t even a student in this class—he was the TA. Professor Masamichi found him to be an excellent student a couple of semesters ago, and Gojo happily obliged, even though he had no real financial incentive. He shared his passion for learning out of love for the game.
You were a struggling student, seeking guidance. While normally you didn’t have nearly as much academic pressure as Gojo, you didn’t want your GPA to get you kicked out of your sorority. Sorority life had been treating you well, and you weren’t ready to give that up.
While Masamichi taught the lecture, it was Gojo who was in charge of grading and tutoring.
Admittedly, not much time passed before you got bored and decided to tease the poor boy, as you two are sitting in your dorm’s living room. How could you not? You were all alone with the cute nerd from class, after all. It was too good an opportunity to pass up.
Through the first thirty minutes of the session, you kept eyeing him, mind completely off the material. You listened enough, if only to be able to ask questions, just to see him talk for a little longer.
When Gojo was trying to write practice formulas, you got bored and took his pencil away from him, rendering him perplexed.
“Sorry, that’s uh..,” he says, trying to make sense of the situation with a pout on his lips. “I was trying to– that’s mine.
“I’ll give it back on one condition,” you grin. “Just answer a question for me.”
“Uh.. okay,” he fidgets with the frame of his glasses nervously. “If-if you had a question about the material, you know you could have just asked me; I’m here to help.”
“It’s not about the material,” you say. “It’s a bit more… personal.”
“Personal?” Gojo asks, worried now. “I’m really sorry if I did anything to make you uncomfortable.”
“Gojo, sweetheart, you didn’t do anything wrong,” you say gently. “I’m just teasing.”
“Of course you would,” he replies with a frown on his face, turning to start packing his things. “Well, I won’t waste any more of your time-”
You grab his wrist, and he turns back to you. “Who said I was wasting your time?”
A hint of pink forms on his cheeks as his eyes dart toward your face and your hand on his wrist. “Nothing, it’s just.. If you’re teasing me, you’re making fun of me.. Right?”
“No,” you say slowly, now understanding where his head is at. “I’m not making fun of you.”
“Oh?” he asks, even more puzzled.”It’s just that… anytime a girl has teased me, she was making fun of me. Especially if she was pretty and popular.”
“You think I’m pretty?” You ask softly, moving closer to him, fingers toying with the fabric of his shirt.
He laughs nervously, pushing up his glasses. “Of course I do.. Who doesn’t think you’re pretty?”
“Maybe I don’t care if other people think I’m pretty,” you say quietly, tugging on his shirt to pull him closer. His eyes scan your face, studying every feature, fully entranced. He hesitates as he presses his forehead to yours, hands trembling as he gently holds your face like you’re the most important person in the world. Gojo’s eyes meet your own, silently asking– begging – for permission.
So, you grant it to him, bridging the gap between his lips and yours. He lets out a sigh of relief as his hands reach from your face to your head, caressing your hair. Your arms come around his neck, pulling him closer, needing him to be closer, as your lips meet his.
Soon, you crawl onto his lap, causing him to pull away.
“What’s wrong?” you ask, smiling at the look of pure shock on his face.
“It’s just that uh,” Gojo gulps, his hands now on your hips. “You’re so.. I haven’t. This is my first time.”
“First kiss?” You ask, curious.
“No, no,” Gojo laughs nervously. “I’ve had my first kiss. Wasn’t anything like you, though.”
“Oh, so you’re a virgin,” you muse, running a hand through his platinum white hair.
“Hey now,” he pouts. “I thought you said you weren’t making fun of me.”
“And I’m not,” you reply, leaning closer to his ear. “I’m just excited.”
You start to kiss his neck and rock back and forth on his bulge, earning a satisfying whine of your name. A slew of curses and sighs escape his lips as you bite his neck, hungry for him. Greedy for more.
“Fuck, [Name],” Gojo whines, instinctively thrusting up in rhythm with you as you grind. “Touch.. Need to touch you…”
“Of course, Gojo,” you pull away, taking your shirt off. He ogles shamelessly, practically drooling at the sight of you in your bra.
“You can call me Satoru,” he says, barely snapping out of his trance. “I think we’re well past formalities now.”
“Well, Satoru,” you say his name, leaning closer for him to see. “Did you want to help me take this off?”
He nods, hesitantly reaching around your back. His eyes don’t leave your chest as he struggles to work the clasp, hands trembling. You wait patiently, watching how his face contorts, figuring out your bra, and how his eyes light up when he works it out. He takes your bra off, absolutely speechless.
“Like what you see?” you ask, a smile tugging at your lips at the sight of Satoru not knowing what to do. “You can touch me.”
He hesitates, but gives in as he toys with your breasts while you go back to grinding on him. You feel him getting harder, the more you move, and the more his hands roam your body. His lips find their way to your neck, migrating to your chest, and leaving bite marks in between.
“Fuck,” you say. “You’re really enjoying yourself.”
Satoru bites you one more time, admiring the work he’s left behind. “What can I say?” he says, feeling a bit more confident now. “I like how you taste.”
“Do you really wanna know how I taste?” you ask cheekily, getting off of him to be next to him on the couch.
His eyes light up. “You’re serious?” he asks incredulously.
“Dead serious,” you smile, pulling him back in for a kiss. The two of you make out as he holds you, hand at the back of your head, as he lowers you down. He pulls away to unbutton your shorts for you, gently pulling them off to reveal your black silk panties, which are evidently soaked.
“Whoa..” Satoru says, pulling your panties to the side to reveal your slick folds.
You’re about to ask him if he wants you to take your panties off, when you’re cut off by the feeling of his tongue prodding at you, with one hand pulling your panties aside, while the other gropes your thigh. You sigh in relief as you rock your hips against his face, completely forgetting about what you were going to ask him.
You almost feel sad when he pulls away. “Haha, sorry,” he says sheepishly, gesturing for you to shift positions briefly so he can remove them. “I think I got a bit carried away.”
“If that’s you getting carried away,” you say breathlessly, “Then I don’t mind.”
Satoru goes in between your legs, hoisting them over your shoulders, as his thumb grazes your clit. You jolt in pleasure, catching him by surprise.
You watch him and motion for him to stop for a moment. “What’s wrong?” he asks.
“You’ve still got your shirt on,” you laugh. “And your glasses, silly.”
“Oh,” he says, removing his shirt, revealing his six-pack. Your mouth is left agape, as now it’s your turn to ogle.
“What?” he asks, raising a brow.
“Nothing, it’s just–” you try to explain yourself, almost embarrassed for being flustered. “I didn’t think you were–”
Now he laughs at you. “Just because I’m a nerd, that doesn’t mean I don’t work out,” he smiles, leaning back down to continue his work. “And the glasses aren’t coming off. I want to see everything.”
His thumb goes back to your clit as he asks, “Hey.. how do I finger you?”
“Just– ahh-,” you try to speak in between moans. “Start with one finger, and move it like this, making sure you touch the top.” You show Satoru the motion of how his fingers should be curled.
“Got it,” he replies, determined to do it right. His right finger prods at your entrance, causing you to gasp. He feels around your tight, wet walls and starts to do as you told. His left thumb finds its way back to your clit, and you feel like you’re in heaven.
“Yes, Satoru, fuck,” you say, as the two of you watch his hands working on your pussy. “You’re already so good.”
“What can I say?” he responds, basking in the lewd noises he’s causing, both from your lips and from your cunt. “I’ve been told I’m a quick learner.”
He adds another finger to your surprise, and your hand grips his hair as he curls both digits. “Fuck!!”
“Are you okay?” he asks, concerned.
“Yes, fuck! I’m more than okay,” you reply, almost laughing. “Fuck, lick my clit, Satoru.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He obeys, his tongue flicking away at your clit while his two fingers curl deep inside you. A string of moans, curses, and praises leaves your lips as Satoru continues his work.
He eventually pulls his fingers out, wanting to fully taste you with his tongue again. It’s gentle, softer, and slower, but by no means any less pleasurable as his tongue finds its place among your folds, his lips occasionally sucking on your clit.
“Fuck Satoru,” you whine. “So fucking good… You lick my pussy so fucking good.. Gonna make me cum with that tongue.”
He hums, continuing his pace. Satoru quickly notices what gets you more reactive, and targets these areas more frequently, as you continue grinding your cunt against his tongue.
“Fuck, I’m coming close… Fuck!!” you shout, as your hips twitch, completely out of control, as Satoru laps mercilessly at your pussy, cleaning up your orgasm.
“You did so well, [Name],” he praises you, meeting your face to leave kisses all over your face as you’re winding down. “You did so good for me, so, so good.”
“Shit,” you sigh, heart rate finally going back to normal as you kiss him on the lips. “Thanks. If you’d lied and told me you weren’t a virgin, I’d honestly believe you.”
“You really think I’m that good?” Satoru asks with a boyish grin on his face that makes you roll your eyes.
“Yes, Satoru, I haven’t lied to you tonight, have I?” You ask sarcastically.
“No, I guess not,” he smiles.
You sit up along with him, tracing your fingers lazily along his chest and abs. “You’ve got a really nice body,” you say mindlessly.
“Thanks,” he blushes, not really sure how to take a compliment, especially when your touch is moving suspiciously closer to his happy trail.
“What’s wrong?” you ask, smiling innocently as you stare into his gorgeous eyes, as if your hand isn’t massaging Satoru’s bulge over his shorts.
He moans in response, not having enough time to hold it back.
“Aww,” you coo, as Satoru is quick to start taking off his shorts. “Someone’s excited.”
“I’ve got a beautiful, naked girl touching my cock,” he says flatly. “How could I not be excited?”
You only chuckle in response, as you continue stroking him, but over his underwear now, the tighter fabric giving you a clearer idea of the curve and how long he’d be– roughly seven inches. You were excited, and admittedly, a little scared, though you were determined not to show it.
However, it became all the more difficult to be so nonchalant once he took off his underwear.
Big was definitely an understatement. Though now you were a little less intimidated and a little more excited.
Satoru could barely handle your touch, let alone the way your more experienced hands worked him. Any desire to hide his moans from you was out the window, with the way your wrist flicked up and down, and the way you watched his every reaction.
You might just be as obsessed with him as he is with you.
“So sensitive,” you smiled mostly to yourself, before brushing your hair over your shoulder and leaning down to put the cock in your mouth. You began with the first three inches, stroking the rest with your hand.
As you work on his tip, he cries out your name. “Please– ngh– it’s too much, fuck..”
You decided to take on the challenge and attempt to deepthroat him, your eyes making contact with him the entire time. As you bobbed your head up and down along his length, you’d sink lower and lower, stroking what you didn’t reach with your mouth. All the while, he bucked his hips into your mouth desperately, as he batted his gorgeous white lashes, begging for more.
Regardless of whether you actually reached the bottom, Satoru was putty in your hands, and you enjoyed every moment of it. But you made it, all seven inches, and smiled as much as someone could with a cock in their mouth as Satoru carressed your hair, praising you for taking him in.
You release his cock with a pop, wiping the mix of saliva and precum from your mouth. “Fuck, you’re big.”
“Thank you,” Satoru breathes, his cock twitching. “You–you didn’t have to take me all in, y’know. I already felt really good.”
“Mm, I wanted to see if I could do it,” you shrugged. “Surprised you didn’t finish, though. Thought you would’ve been done for by now.”
“Yeah,” he says, stroking himself once to stay up. “Guess I got a little nervous.”
“Well, it’s not all bad,” you smile, taking his hand to guide him to your next position. “At least we can still fuck.”
“Yeah, at least that,” Satoru’s voice trails off, as he’s now sitting in between your legs, just as he was right before he ate you out.
“You still want to fuck, right?” You ask. “It’s okay if you don’t, I won’t take it personally.”
“More than anything,” he clarifies. “I really, really want to fuck you. Right now. It’s just.. You’re so pretty. I wanted to get a good look at you before I uh..”
“Pop your cherry?” you joke, trying to hide your embarrassment. While you’ve had your roster for a while and this was far from your first rodeo, you couldn’t help but appreciate the compliment.
“Oh shut up,” he laughs, his pale cheeks turning visibly red.
“I’m ready whenever you are, Satoru,” you smile, genuine as you take his hand.
He positions himself above you, his pink tip prodding at your hole. He struggles at first, whether due to nerves or the tightness of your grip. You take his cock, stroke it a couple of times, and help guide it into the hole. As you maintain eye contact, both of you share a look of surprise and pleasure upon contact.
“Fuck,” he swears, sinking deeper into you. “You’re so tight, so warm..”
“Nngh,” you moan, trying not to let your walls clench against him too much, to little avail. “You’re so thick, Satoru.”
“I’m..sorry?” he replies, not sure what to make of the juxtaposition of the tears welling in your eyes with the moans escaping your lips.
You laugh chastely. “Don’t be sorry –hnn – this feels… so good. I just need to adjust.”
As Satoru pushes into you deeper, he leans down to pepper your face with kisses. He wipes away the tears that reach the corner of your eyes, whispering, “Shh, it’s okay, I’ve got you. You’re doing so good, [Name], you’re so good.”
You’re gripping his back for dear life, freshly done nails digging into his back muscles, as you cry from pain and pleasure. As he bottoms out, you start to breathe, adjusting to his length and girth.
“S-sorry,” he says, holding your face.
“You’re okay,” you respond, taking a deep breath. “I just need to get used to you.”
“You’re so–so tight,” he huffs. “Feels so nice just being inside you..”
You pull him down to make out with him, if for nothing but to distract yourself from the pain of being stretched out until it subsides. It’s slower, sweeter, and more intimate than any other kiss you’d shared that night.
“Okay,” you nod, pulling away from him. “I think I’m ready now.”
“Alright, [Name],” Satoru responds, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Just tell me when you need me to stop, okay?”
You nod, groaning instantly as you start to feel his cock move back. He only pulls out until halfway, and slowly goes back in. With each movement, he sighs, but only thrusts into you gently. Even as he’s holding back, the tantalizing drag of his member against your walls feels delicious, addictive even.
“More, Satoru,” you breathe. “Harder.”
“I-I don’t want to hurt you,” he explains. “You’re so small compared to me, I can’t–”
“I can take it,” you say firmly.
“Uh.. if you say so,” he gulps.
“Pull out a little further,” you instruct, and he listens. “Now go back in, hard.”
He thrusts against you, holding your hips to not hurt you too much. You moan, “Fuck, yes!”
He tries again, thrusting back into you even harder this time, “Nngh!! Was that– was that good?”
“Mm, yes..,” you say, eyes half lidded with lust. “You can go harder. And faster if you’d like.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he mutters, firmly gripping your hips as he starts to develop a rhythm. It’s safe to say that any shyness regarding the noises he makes is gone now, as he’s fully moaning, his instincts taking over as he fucks you faster and harder.
He keeps pounding your hole, as his hands leave your hips and grab you underneath your thighs, pulling your legs back fully. You feel him even deeper, crying out his name. “Satoru! Fuck, yes, that feels so good! Fuck me harder, harder!!”
He continues thrusting at the same pace, feeling you tighten around him, determined to make you feel good. “You– hhnn– sound– so hot, [Name].”
You moan louder for him, in tandem with each thrust as you rub your needy clit, watching Satoru fuck you. As good as this was, you had an idea. “Satoru, stop.”
He pulls out, almost a little too quickly, causing you to groan.
“Is everything okay?” he asks, concerned, as he lowers you back on the couch. “Did I hurt you?”
You start to get up. “No, no, you’re fine,” you smile assuringly. “I just wanted to switch positions.”
“Oh yeah,” he blushed. “I’m not going to lie, if you let me keep doing that for a minute longer, I probably would’ve cum.”
“I bet,” you tease. “Now, Satoru, sit down.”
“Okay..” he sits normally on the couch, as you place your legs on either side, just like when you were dry humping. “Oh..” he realizes what your next plans are. “A-Are you sure? I’m not tired or anything, I don’t want you to be doing any work.”
“Oh Satoru,” you giggle, kissing his forehead. “You’re so sweet. But I want this.” You angle his tip to your entrance, a hand placed on his toned chest, and lower yourself onto him.
As you move down, he whines your name, loudly and slowly. You sigh in relief as you reach the bottom.
“Mmm, Satoru,” you moan. “You fill me up so nicely.”
“Fuck, [Name],” he whimpers your name. “I’m so deep..”
“You’re soo hot,” you say, lustfully admiring his body, tracing your finger along his abs and chest, peppered with dark hickeys that might be difficult to hide with the wrong shirt.
“Uh.. thanks..” he says shyly, avoiding eye contact.
“Satoru,” you say gently. “Look at me when I ride you, okay?”
He gulps, and his needy, pathetic gaze meets yours. You start to ride him, moving up and down along the shaft of his cock. He lets out a moan that is a little higher-pitched than earlier. Excited, you bounce on him faster, as he grabs you by the hips, and eventually by the ass.
“Mmm, you’re so needy, Satoru,” you say, as his moans only grow. Coherent sentences have long left his vocabulary. Only a brief “yes” or pornographic moan would escape his lips.
Satoru Gojo, top of his class, and your TA. Smartest boy in school. Completely at a loss for words for you, and only you.
You stop bouncing for a moment and grind against him, as he’s still deep in your cunt. Satoru’s eyes widen at the new sensation, and his eyes roll back.
“Ahh– [Name]!!” he cries. “That’s so good, oh fuuck..”
You continue for a little longer, until he finally asks, “[N-Name]? Can we stop?”
“New position?” you ask, raising a brow? He nods shyly. “What would you like to try?” you ask, curiously, as you pull yourself from his cock and take a seat next to him.
“I uhm..” he trails off, clearly embarrassed. “If it’s okay.. And only if you like it.. Can I give you back..shots?”
Your eyes widen, then you laugh teasingly. “You’re so dirty, Satoru.”
“We don’t have to!” he reaffirms, but you’re already turning around, ass in the air for him.
“I want to, Satoru,” you reassure him. “Only if you fuck me nice and hard like you did earlier, okay?”
“Got it,” he says, grabbing your waist in one hand, using the other to guide his cock into your hole. He enters slowly, thrusting slowly once moaning slowly as he moves.
“Ahh, [Name]--” Satoru whines. “You’re even tighter like this.”
“Yeah, that’s why people like this position so much,” you say, forehead against the couch, as you feel your pussy grip Satoru tighter than ever.
“Not a bad view either,” he says to himself, as he pulls out, and thrusts back into you mercilessly. You gasp, not expecting this at all, but loving it. He grasps your hips tightly, ramming back into your tight hole over and over and over.
“Yes, Satoru fuck!!” you start to cry, literally grasping as much of the couch as possible,trying to stabilize yourself. “Fuck me just like that!”
“Mmm, [Name],’ he whines, whining as he fucks you. “Your pussy’s so good–nngh– taking me– all in!”
His stamina’s great, as he never lets up or change pace; he only leans forward so he can kiss your neck while rubbing your clit.
“Nngh, Satoruuu,” you moan. “You–fuck– you’re such a fast learner..”
He laughs, “Anything to make you feel good.”
Soon he asks, “You–ahh– are you going to.. You know..?”
“Yes, Satoru,” you turn to look at him over your shoulder. “I’m ready to cum again.’
He thrusts one more time, then pulls out. “Yeah, me too.. Can you turn over? I– I wanna see your face.”
“Of course, sweet boy,” you smile, preparing for missionary. “Whenever you’re ready.”
He blushes at the nickname and goes back inside, fucking you again. He’s still going hard, but at a more rhythmic pace, groaning at the sound of your bodies slapping against each other. He’s leaning over, eyes never leaving you as he brushes your hair from your face.
“So– so pretty.. So perfect,” Satoru muses, continuing to thrust deep into you. He kisses you tenderly, moaning and whimpering against your lips.
“Did you wanna cum inside me?” you ask bluntly. He nods sheepishly. “Yeah, Satoru, I’m on the pill,” you explain. “And I think I’m close.”
“Me too,” he says, picking up his pace again, leaning up to admire your figure beneath him. As your cheeks turn more red, he starts rubbing your clit, fucking you hard and fast again.
“Fuck, Satoru– ahh! I’m– I’m gonna–”
You come undone, orgasming around Satoru’s big cock, and he feels how your walls pulsate against his member.
“Oh my– so good– fuckfuckfuck,” he whines, fucking you through your orgasm. Satoru lets out a guttural moan, holding you close as he spills his load into you, filling you up to the brim. You stay like this for a moment, the room full of musk and your deep breaths in sync. He pulls out of you slowly, as the warm white liquid spills out of you.
“You... are you okay?” Satoru asks, breathlessly.
“Yeah, are you?” you ask, as you get up for a moment to pick up a folded blanket at the other end of your couch. “How was that for your first time?”
I just wanted to check in with all my lovely readers! I know I haven't updated, I've got some big personal stuff coming up this week, but trust that I will come back in full swing next week.
This isn't about next chapter, but please let me know..
do we want a smut chapter for everywhere?
yes
no
Voting ended onSep 15, 2025
The chapter will be tagged accordingly, and won't be super integral to the plot, so if you're not comfortable reading it, you won't miss anything important!
Ily all and I can't wait to go back to writing for you wonderful ppl <3 Take care!
Summary: You start making contact with your so-called stalker
WC: ~2000 words
Warnings: violence, grief
Notes: sfw, fem!reader, reader’s in college!
♡ + ↻ always appreciated ♡
˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦ ˚ . ★⋆. ࿐࿔
. ˚ * ✦ . . ✦ ˚ ˚ .˚ ✦ . . ˚ . ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ ✦
This week, you go to the Manor a little sooner than expected.
You hadn’t spent long at his gravesite in a while, not since you graduated anyway. But as you approach the on-site cemetery, you notice the remnants of what used to be a bigger pile of dirt, along with an excavator. The spot above Jason’s burial site is also disturbed, no longer covered in grass, his headstone dirty.
You frown. This was unusual. Bruce regularly had cleaners come through not only for Jason’s headstone, but also for his late parents, Thomas and Martha. Still, the job looked recent, and whatever Bruce paid the workers to do, they didn’t bother cleaning up after themselves.
You ring the manor’s doorbell, which is opened shortly by Alfred, who happens to have a look of worry on his face before realizing you’re back.
“Ah, [Name], what a surprise,” he smiles, sounding a bit tired. “Come in, come in.”
“Hey, [Name],” Bruce’s new mentee, Tim, waves as you pass by the study he’s in, working on his computer. You’d met the kid a handful of times at this point, as he occasionally joined during your catch-up dinners with Bruce. It was nice for Bruce to have someone to look after again; Tim was pretty smart, so he was no doubt a solid contender for the whole company protege thing that Jason told you about before.
“Hey, kiddo,” you smile, walking past the room. You made a mental note to catch up with him after you’re done speaking with Bruce.
Speaking of Bruce.. “Hey Alf, where’s Bruce?” You inquire.
Alfred shakes his head. “Master Bruce has had.. Quite a night. I sent him off to bed, but if there is a matter you would like to bring up, I would love to help however I can.”
You and Alfred approach the family room, where he places down a plate of cookies and tea for you. “I baked a fresh batch the other night. Please help yourself.”
“Thanks,” you take a bite, savoring the best chocolate chip cookie you’ve ever had. “But yeah, I was visiting Jason and noticed there was some uhh.. Construction? What’s that about?”
Alfred frowns the moment you say Jason’s name. “Ah, yes.. Master Bruce had difficulty digging out the memorial vase, so we had to call in the gardeners to use the excavator.”
“Oh..” you say, unsure. “Well, whatever it was seemed excessive– the hole was way bigger than the total area of the vase. Plus, they left a mess.”
“I will see to it that Master Jason’s headstone and gravesite are cleaned, Miss [Name],” Alfred confirms, unwavering as usual.
“No, Al, I got it,” you assured him. “You get some rest. You look tired. Is everything okay?”
“I assure you, I am just fine, Miss [Name],” the butler says with a gentle smile.
He’s lying.
But who were you to confront Alfred? You always knew that this family had its secrets. Still, you had the growing impression that the truth was slowly unraveling.
That would have to be for another day. Plus, you still had to ask the man if he had any of that batch left over for you to take home.
As you head out with your package and cleaning supplies for the tombstone, you come up to Tim in the room and knock on the door.
“Yeah, come in!” he calls out, focused on whatever he’s working on.
“A paper?” you ask, leaning against his desk, littered with empty cans of Red Bull and Celsius that you glare at, disappointed.
“Yeah, some research,” Tim replies. “Bruce told Alfred I can get homework done before we head to HQ for internship stuff.”
“Yeah, speaking of that,” you look outside briefly to see if Alfred’s around. “Everything okay? Al doesn’t look good.”
“Yeah,” Tim sighs, knowing what you’re talking about. “Bruce.. I don’t know exactly what happened, but Alfred says he was sad about Jason last night. I don’t blame him.”
“Me neither,” you say sympathetically. “I’ve been the same way, too. Thought I saw him.”
Tim perks up. “Where at? Out of curiosity.”
You stare at him. “At the flea market by the West End. I heard people have hallucinations when they miss someone they’re grieving, so that makes sense, I guess.”
“Yeah.. hallucinations.” Tim leans back, frowning at you empathetically. “[Name], I’m really, really sorry. That must be hard to deal with.”
You shrug. “It is what it is. I’ll be okay.”
“Well, if you ever need to talk, I’m here,” Tim smiles.
“Nah, don’t worry about me,” you place a hand on his shoulder. “You keep doing good work. And tell Bruce I say hi when he's up!"
“See ya [Name],” Tim says as you hug him goodbye. “I’ll see you on Friday for dinner!”
You take the food and cleaning supplies Alfred provided and clean up Jason’s headstone with love. Today, you pay your respects by leaving one of Alfred’s cookies behind before you head back to campus.
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Weeks pass, and you find yourself in the thick of midterms again. From managing pre-midterm events to tutoring panicking students and juggling your own exams, sleep hasn’t exactly been a priority. Your friends would probably be worried about you if they all weren’t doing the same thing, being that they’re all academic weapons in their own respective fields.
Philosophy was a class in particular where you were kind of worried about the final. Well, not worried, but you wanted your bases covered. Tonight, as you’ve done for the last handful of exams, you were with Jess at one of the campus libraries.
“I gotta run now,” Jess says after you guys wrap up your session. “I told Rory I’d swing by today.”
“Oh, nice, tell her I say hi!” You smile at the mention of your friend’s girlfriend. “I think I’m gonna stick around a little longer, I still have a poli sci project and a paper for English to wrap up.”
“Don’t stick around here too long, [Name],” Jess says once he’s fully packed up. “I don’t want another incident to happen to you.”
“Please, Jess, I’m on campus!” you wave off.
“Still, I wouldn’t want Rory staying out late on campus, even if she’s at fricken’ Yale. We’re in Gotham at the end of the day,” Jess says seriously. “Plus, we can’t guarantee your knight in shining armor’s gonna pull up again.”
You roll your eyes. “I doubt I’m gonna see him again, I think he has bigger fish to fry than me getting mugged. But thanks for the concern, I appreciate it. I’ll text the group chat once I’m home to ease your conscience.”
With that, Jess leaves, and you stay longer than you’re supposed to. Again.
It’s 10:37 now, objectively not that late. And again, you’re on campus. But Jess’s words stick with you.
You pack your things up quickly, wearing your headphones, but turning off the noise-cancelling feature, and keep your music off. Your keys are clutched in your hand. You remember the night you were robbed, contemplating how on earth you were going to get into your dorm, if you even lived. You remember your trembling hands, the tears, the blood—the gun.
You’re brought back to the present when you hear a step behind you.
Again, it’s not that late, but campus is more or less dead right now, considering everyone’s got studying to do. Seeing no one, hearing the step, and your thoughts at present weren’t exactly the best combination.
You listen carefully for the steps to get closer. Then you decide to punch them, quickly turning with your eyes closed.
A sharp pain meets your knuckles as you open your eyes to see they’ve come to contact with an armored chest covered with the red bat symbol. Your stomach drops even further than you thought as you look up at the red helmet, closer than you’ve seen before.
“You good?” his robotic voice breaks the silence, looking down at you, your fist still to his chest as you’re frozen in shock.
“Oh my god, Red Hood, I’m so sorry, shit-” you’re stumbling over your own words as you move away from him, inspecting him as if he got any damage getting struck by you.
“I meant you,” he says, gesturing toward your hand. “Hitting Kevlar with your bare fist doesn’t feel great. I’d know.”
You look at your left knuckles, and it turns out he’s right. You got a little cut and the beginnings of a nasty bruise. “Oh,” you say, simply at a loss for words.
“Here,” he nudges his head towards the nearest bench next to a street lamp, as he walks over. You follow, not really knowing what to expect. He motions for you to sit down, and you do just that, as he sits with you, inspecting your hand in the light. Red Hood reaches into one of the many pockets on his cargo pants and pulls out a small bottle of sanitizer and a band-aid.
“What?” he asks, noticing your dumbfounded look as he squirts some sanitizer into your hand.
“Nothing, I just...” you’re trying to figure out what to say to him, wincing as the sanitizer meets your wound. “A little starstruck is all. Everyone’s been talking about you.”
He chuckles, studying your face. “Yeah, I read your paper.”
Your eyes widen, and you can’t help but feel a little embarrassed. “You did?”
Red Hood nods as he takes your hand and applies the band-aid to your knuckles. “You’re a good writer. It’s nice to see press about me that isn’t completely negative.”
“I’d imagine it’s rare if you’re known to kill,” you say, rubbing over the edges of your band-aid. “But you do good around here. We need more of that in Gotham, however it comes.”
He tilts his head contemplatively. “‘Preciate it”
A silence falls between you as you’re trying to figure out what to say.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, curious. “I imagine you’re not exactly enrolled here as a student.”
He shrugs. “I visit the library when it’s dead. And by dead, I mean closed. Turns out they extended the hours this week.”
“Yeah, it’s midterms,” you explain, your adrenaline long gone enough for you to remember the impending doom of upcoming exams, eliciting a groan. “Not excited for that.”
“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” he replies, a hint of a smile in his voice. “From your article, you sound smart. What are you in school for?”
“Law,” you reply, turning to him. “Pre-law, anyway. Got years of school left after undergrad. But it’s worth it, I think.”
He nods slowly, arms crossed, relaxed in the bench next to you. “That’s good.”
“What about you, Mr. Hood?” you ask, an amusing tone in your voice as you mention the nickname. “What do you do when you’re not taking down crime lords?”
“Well,” he takes a moment to think. “I break into college libraries to read. And I shoot robbers when they try to rob cute girls from time to time.”
You sit up at the realization, frankly ignoring the adjective. “So it was you.”
He nods. “Saw it from afar while on the way to another job. Thought you could use the help.”
“Thanks,” you say, heavy with gratitude and relief. “I honestly thought I was gonna die.”
“I wouldn’t let that happen,” Red Hood says, with a little too much certainty. “Trust me.”
You knew, however exaggerated that response may have been, the vigilante meant it with sincerity. So you say, “Okay.”
“Plus, I’m not too worried about you,” he admits. “Shooting the gun at him after nearly getting killed yourself, punching me with no armor, no nothing? Pretty gutsy in my book.”
You laugh, feeling less embarrassed about punching the guy who saved your life a few weeks ago. “Well, I appreciate you looking out. And I’m glad we got to meet.”
Considering no one’s really around, and your dorm’s around the corner, Red Hood walks you to the building.
“Thanks for the talk,” you smile up at him. “I’m glad we met. And don’t be a stranger, no need to follow me around anymore. Just let me know if you want to chat again.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but sure,” an immature tone finds its way through the monotonous voice mod. “See ya around, [Name].”
As you make your way to your dorm upstairs, you question how he knows your name for a moment before relalizing he got it from the article, which had a picture of you next to your name. Probably.
You make it to the top and turn to wave goodbye, but by the time you look down, he’s gone.
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“You what?”
Your friend Penelope from high school was visiting from out of town. She’s also a college sophomore, a premed student at Yale. You two decided to meet up at a cafe near your high school you two used to frequent.
“Yep, I got mugged, the guy saved me, and I guess we’re friends,” you say, like it meant nothing.
“Yeah, friends,” Penelope says, chuckling.
“Oh stop,” you roll your eyes. “It’s not like that. Plus, bloodthirsty isn’t exactly my type.”
“Really,” she says flatly, not believing you for a second. “I mean, you’re gonna be a lawyer. You’re going to meet worse eventually.”
“Yeah, I guess,” you say contemplatively.
“I know what happened to Jay was messed up, and I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through it,” she reaches across the table, holding your hand. “But I think this might be good for you, however unconventional it may be. Plus, he saved you. That’s gotta count for something.”
You sigh. “You’re right as always, Pen. If I even see him again, I’ll let you know.”
“Yes, girl,” Pen exclaims. “I’m knee deep in all my pre-reqs. I need tea.”
You spend the rest of the afternoon with your friend and eventually end up back at your dorm. As you place your things down, you notice a small 3 by 4 card on the coffee table in your living room.
As you pick it up, you read a phone number and some words that say, “Call me anytime. - RH”
This is going to be interesting.
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I just wanna say thanks again for all the love for Everywhere! I know the numbers aren't crazy or anything, but I appreciate every lil note, like, reblog, kudos, etc.
School's been crazy, and I'm studying for a pretty big test, but I love writing on my breaks, so I will be making some progress here, just not as quickly :3 In the meantime, I made a playlist for the fic, with songs that capture the vibe of Jay and reader falling in love, reader's grief and growth, and even foreshadowing for new plot points!!
Take care, everyone, and I'll see y'all very soon ♡
Summary: Mr. Wayne returns after being absent for a while, and wants to see how things have been between his wife, the newly appointed co-CEO, and her intern.
WC: ~2000
Warnings: 18+
Notes: power imbalance, implied age gap, mild degradation, ffm, f/f, poly, threesome, p in v, v on v, reader has a j*b
likes + reblogs always appreciated ♡
Part 1 | Part 2
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You and Selina don’t do it for a day. And it’s been driving you crazy.
The day after the incident, you don’t really know how to act. Selina doesn’t act like anything happened. As per usual, upon entering your floor, she greets you warmly and heads straight to the office.
It's been business as usual. But not for you. Every time you see her, every time she passes by, a whiff of perfume lingering, your pussy throbs. You want more.
However, the day after that, you pick up where you left off. This time, Selina pulls you to the couch, and insists she wants to taste you. It’s the end of the work day, so you spend the rest of your evening tangled up in one another, yet again.
“Why didn’t you say anything yesterday?” You ask as you both get redressed.
She shrugs. “I’d already had my fix. Today, I wanted more.”
So you hook up sporadically, usually around lunch time or after work. But otherwise, you actually enjoy your internship, benefits aside.
Your stomach drops when you hear the ding of the elevator and the doors slide open. On the top floor, only you and the CEOs have access. You almost dread seeing her today. Truly. These past few days, she sent you over the edge, and you don’t think you could take it anymore.
But it’s not Selina who enters the office.
“Mr. Wayne!” You stand up, flustered. Right. Him.
“Hello, [Name],” Bruce Wayne greets you warmly, briefcase in hand. “It’s good to see you again. How has the new campaign been treating you?”
You briefly discuss your progress on some marketing campaign, something about one of W.E.’s many charity branches. The thought of you fucking his wife lingered at the back of your head, wondering if he’s seen the footage from the security cameras yet.
Bruce listens intently. “Sounds like we’re on the right track. And has Selina been alright? This is also one of her first big campaigns, so it’s nice to have someone with your experience to help her through.”
“Yeah, she’s been..” you’re really flustered now. “She’s been great.”
“Are you alright?” Bruce inquires, walking around to your side of the desk to feel your forehead. “You don’t look so good.”
“I’m fine Mr. Wayne,” you say, sounding less confident than you’d hoped.
“If you say so,” Bruce shrugs. “But feel free to take the day off if you need it. I know you’ve been working hard.”
You try your best to keep your composure as he leaves for his office and shuts the door. You groan to yourself, “What the hell am I doing?”
The day goes by, agonizingly slowly, and by 5pm, Bruce waves goodbye.
Yet as he’s about to approach the elevator, it dings, and Selina emerges.
You don’t pay attention at first, but you definitely look up when you hear moans by the couch right across the room.
There before you, Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle are making out, as she’s pinned against the wall. Her mouth sloppily moves from his lips to the nape of her neck, leaving bruises and bites.
As for you, you’re soaked.
Selina stops, and smiles, looking over her shoulder. “Care to join us, kitten?”
You’re dumbfounded. You knew Bruce had probably seen the footage by now.. but you didn’t quite realize what that would entail.
“Please,” Bruce huffs, his previously slicked back hair a mess. “Show me how good you’ve been taking care of my wife.”
So now you find yourself back on the couch, tongue deep in the now familiar crevices of Selina Kyle’s cunt. You were too desperate to even undress yourself, as you’re bent over in your little skirt, one knee on the couch, as Selina's pants and panties are discarded to the nearby coffee table.
Bruce is sitting in the office chair closer to your desk, fisting his big cock. You’re excited.
He calls your name. “Stop now. Ride her,” he orders.
Just as you do with Selina, you oblige. “Yes sir.”
You and Selina remove the rest of your clothes as you make out, desperate. You mount her, positioning your pussy on top of hers, and you grind.
“See how good our new toy is Brucie,” Selina moans, slapping your ass as you quickly move with her, feeling your slick folds move against each other. “She’s so greedy. The other day, I made her cum five times.”
“What a needy whore,” Bruce says, grunting as he strokes his member. “We love that.”
As you get closer, Bruce speaks. “Stop now.”
He motions for you to stay on top of Selina, but he inserts his cock in her as he inspects your pussy with his fingers.
“Such a pretty little cunt,” he admires, as he thrusts aggressively into his wife. “Fuck, Sel. Ahh.. I’ve missed your pussy so much..”
“Ohh Brucie,” Selina moans loudly, coming undone.
You’re even worse, as Bruce Wayne’s thick, rough fingers bully your poor hole. As you moan, you grab Selina’s tits roughly, sucking on her, earning moans.
“Good girl, [Name],” Wayne praises you, fingering you roughly.
“Yes, she’s such a good girl,” Selina sighs from the sensations you and your husband are giving her. “Oh Bruce, I want to taste her.”
“I have an idea,” Bruce responds. He pulls out of Selina with a pop, and his fingers out of your cunt, but not without slapping you there, earning a jolt. He chuckles, and you all sit up. Bruce grabs you by the waist, pulling you in for your first kiss with him. It’s rough, passionate. Needy.
“My turn,” Selina pushes him out of the way. She then pushes you down on the couch and her lips find your pussy, plump ass up in the air available for her husband.
He doesn’t complain, as he goes back to fucking his beautiful wife, watching her tongue swirl around your clit.
“You’re so filthy when you eat pussy, Selina,” he continues to fuck her roughly.
“That’s how you do it Brucie,” she pauses, but continues to finger you as she speaks. “You want a taste?”
“Gladly,” Bruce replies, leaning down to join her. You feel a second tongue meet your cunt as the married couple kisses each other between your legs, Selina still knuckle deep inside you.
You could die like this, grasping both Bruce and Selina’s hair as they lick you up, while Bruce gives his wife back shots.
As Bruce thrusts harder, Selina moans against your heat, eventually collapsing on your thigh while rubbing your clit, her usually cunning expression faded away into desperation.
“Miss.. Miss Kyle,” you mown her name, rummaging your fingers through her hair once more. “You take— ahh— you take Mr. Wayne’s cock so, so good..”
Hearing this boosts the CEO’s ego, as he damn near breaks her back, and his wife screams his name, “Bruce, fuck!!”
“Like what you see, doll?” Mr. Wayne smirks, admiring his wife’s state.
“Yes, sir,” you smile cheekily. “You fuck Miss Kyle so good.”
“Darling,” Selina coos, turning to look at her husband. “I think our little intern wants to give you a try.”
Bruce pulls out, earning a delicious groan from Selina. “Is that true, [Name]?” He asks you. You nod, sheepishly.
Selina props herself up. “Let’s switch, kitten. I want to try something.”
You’re now in a tabletop position, facing Selina’s cunt once again, as Bruce throatfucks his wife. You think you might be addicted to the sound of her gags, the way it makes you wet. You rub Miss Kyle’s clit while she sucks cock.
“She’s very good at her job,” Bruce says, pulling his length out of Selina’s mouth, red lipstick smeared all over his cock and her mouth. “Think it’s time to reward her, darling?”
“Yes, if she can take it,” Selina slaps your pussy, causing you to gasp. “This little bitch is so, so tight. And you’re so, so big.”
Selina strokes Bruce’s cock a couple of times before guiding the tip into your tight hole. You feel a stretching pain in your cervix, feeling width you’d never felt before.
“Shit,” Bruce gasps. “Selina— ugh— I barely just got past the tip.. she’s so tight.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re her first, sweetheart,” Selina teases, enjoying the show.
You’re practically crying, trying to take Bruce Wayne’s big, fat cock as well as you could. But you would rather die than stop him.
“I’ve.. I’ve had guys before,” you clarify in between whines. “Not in a while.. not like you, Mr. Wayne.”
“Damn right,” he huffs, bottoming out. You both sigh, and stay there for a moment.
“I’ll help you sweetheart,” Selina smiles, grabbing your ass and licking your clit, while she palms Bruce’s balls.
“Oh, Miss Kyle,” you cry out, exchanging a look with her husband. “You.. sir, you have the best wife.”
“I know,” Bruce moans lowly. “Are you ready?”
You nod shakily. “I think so.”
Bruce pulls out, just before the tip, and slams back into you full force.
“Mister Wayne!!,” you cry. “Shit!!”
He slaps your cheek. “You don’t speak like that, [Last Name]. I might be fucking you, but you still work for me, have some decorum.”
Selina chuckles, pausing from eating you out. “Bruce, I hardly believe HR’s going to appreciate us fucking up here, much less us having relations with our very young intern.”
“I don't give a damn. Not my fault, our intern’s got good pussy,” Bruce stops fucking you to stick his cock back into his wife’s mouth, while he fingers you. “Mind you, you fucked her first.”
You stay like this for a while, Bruce switching his cock from mouth to pussy, Selina attending to her husband or to you. Your job stays the same— take cock while you eat pussy.
“You’re taking my husband’s big fat dick so good sweetheart,” Selina compliments you between long licks. “And you know I love that tongue..”
“Miss Kyle, Mister Wayne,” you say after a long stream of curses and incoherent moans. “May I cum soon?”
“What do you think, darling?” Bruce pulls out, the tip of his cock a dark shade of pink. “Do you think she’s earned it?”
“Considering she’s tastes so good,” Selina says, admiring your pussy. “I’d say so.”
“Thank you, ma’am. Sir.”
With that, Bruce inserts himself into your now gaping hole, and fucks hard, roughly grasping your soft hips. Your back is fully arched, face deep in pussy while Selina’s doing the same.
As Bruce fucks faster, you scream, and finally, you let go, juices squirting. Selina overstimulates your clit as you orgasm, sending you over the edge, as you squirm uncontrollably.
You collapse on her, face landing in the crevices of her thigh.
“Good girl,” Selina coos, gently rubbing your sensitive clit.
“Fuck,” Bruce pants. “Selina, get up.”
You sit in front of them, recovering, yet so, so horny, while you watch the married couple fuck one more time. Selina’s riding her husband, while you rub your sensitive clit ever so lightly.
“Miss Kyle, you’re so hot,” you sigh, delirious.
“Thank you, darling,” Selina smiles sweetly at you, as Bruce viciously bites her neck and chest. He’s a lot rougher with her than he is with you, and you thought he was pretty rough. He pounds into her relentlessly, as Selina praises him, coaxing him to cum.
It’s not long until Bruce pours himself out inside of her,and they both look at you the entire time. Once again, you think you could die happy.
After making out for a bit, Selina gets off of her husband, and orders you to get in between her knees as she sits on the couch, Bruce sitting next to her.
“Clean me up,” Selina orders. “And make me cum.”
You oblige, admiring the white liquid dripping out of her before you slurp her up. At this point, this is the most sensitive you’ve ever seen her, and you’re enjoying every minute of this.
“Who knew our new hire would be the perfect slut,” Bruce admires, lazily watching you work on Selina.
“I’m so glad we picked her out,” Selina says. “Oh shit [Name], I’m coming close—“
And with that, you take a page out of her book, wrapping your arms around her waist, refusing to let go even once she says she’s tapped out.
Bruce laughs, “What a natural. I have a feeling you’ll find a permanent position here after your internship.”
"Thank you, Mr. Wayne," you say quietly, going back to your seat from earlier.
"Oh, come, don't be like that," Selina teases, urging you to sit between them. She pulls you in for a kiss, sweet, softer than earlier. Bruce tilts your chin, and you follow, meeting his lips as well.
"Ready for round two?"
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I hope you guys enjoyed it!! Sorry if you were expecting all three of them together in Part 1, but you have it now! Hope you enjoy!
Made a little playlist for Everywhere! The songs are pretty much in chronological order of Reader and Jason’s friendship, falling in love, reader’s grief, and some hints as to what’s coming next :)
I have a bit of chapter 3 written, but I’m gonna be pretty locked in studying over the next couple of weeks so pls enjoy this before that comes out 🫶🏽
i’m going to need part 3 of everywhere fic right now op 🤲🤲🤲🤲🤲🤲 (i’m kidding go at your own pace but i am patiently at the edge of my seat)
EEE I’m glad you’re excited Anon!! Matter of fact, thanks to everyone who’s been giving Everywhere love, it means sm 🩷 next part will be ready very soon !!
Me behind the screen smiling deviously as I read a fic where the reader is called ‘clingy’ or ‘needy’ and in response the reader stops being ‘clingy’ and now the character I’m reading about is left with regret (the little girl who was always afraid of being too much and was no matter what she did feels loved):
Summary: You’re starting college, and dealing with the grief of your loss..sort of.
WC: ~3.4k
Warnings: violence, grief
Notes: sfw, fem!reader, reader’s in college!
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Two years later, you’re beginning your second year as a student at Gotham University. At first, you wanted to go to Yale. While you got accepted, you couldn’t quite shake the feeling that you needed to stay in town.
Just as Bruce was supporting you, you supported Bruce. Well, as much as a broke college student can support a billionaire who lost his son, anyway. You’d come by the manor once a week, and you’d have a check-in dinner with him. This week was no different.
“So [Name],” Bruce says, as Alfred places down the large bowl of French onion soup and pours it into your smaller bowl. “Are you ready for the next semester? Do you need anything?”
You shake your head, “No, I’m all good!”
It was true. Bruce really kept his promise when he said not to worry about college. You thought he’d just cover your application fees, but he covered your tuition as well. He bought you a new tablet, a new laptop, and even the LSAT question bank you mentioned offhandedly.
Your parents certainly didn’t mind Mr. Wayne’s generous contributions. But in your heart of hearts, you knew that the money going to you would’ve gone to Jason. You also knew that not accepting the money wouldn’t exactly help Bruce’s grief.
Besides, he was right. Jason would’ve wanted this for you.
As you wrap up this week’s dinner, Bruce gives you a hug. “Have a good second year, [Name]. Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”
“Copy that, B,” you smile. Walking over to Alfred, you hug him as well. “Thanks for the food, Alf, it was bomb!”
You move back into your dorm, gaining back the rhythm of the last two semesters. You’d joined the mock trial team, student government, The Gotham U Paper, and have been studying for the LSAT, even if you had a bit of a way to go. Just as you were in high school, you managed to make tons of friends! And of course, you continued to spearhead the Jason Todd Foundation you had founded as a high school senior.
You haven’t addressed the grief yourself. Taking care of Bruce, checking in with your family, and being involved. That was much more important to you. Of course, you loved Jason and honored his memory. But you don’t have time to sit around and cry! You’re going to become a lawyer, and that’s that.
Sure, you couldn’t help but feel your stomach drop when you would find his favorite book at the library. But it was getting easier to ignore that feeling, considering how familiar you were with grief over the last few years.
You had also recently taken a job as a high school tutor. You normally do sessions online, but found yourself taking on an in-person job since you wanted to get coffee somewhere, fifteen minutes away from your dorm. Your student had left after the hour-long session, but you stayed for another four hours, completing coursework and extracurricular deliverables.
After wrapping up a flyer for an upcoming event and sending it over, you realized it was 11:35 pm.
Shit. You cursed to yourself. It wasn’t that late, frankly, but walking around Gotham this hour, even for fifteen minutes, was risky. Still, you had to get home somehow.
You pack up your laptop, hide your real wallet, and pull out your fake, which contains nothing more than a Dave & Busters card and your middle school ID. This was a suggestion Jason had made, the first time you met, when he pickpocketed you as a greeting.
“You’re never going to catch a pickpocket,” he would tell you, tossing your wallet back to you. “But you can trick them.”
The game cards are from your dates at the arcade together, purchased before you started dating. He encouraged you to keep your middle school ID in there, insisting he wanted to see this cute little version of you next time he pickpockets you.
As you make your way out of the coffee shop, you take a deep breath and march on into the cold Gotham air.
Leaving the area of the shop, it becomes quieter. Eerie. Typical Gotham.
A sense of unease grows in your gut as you keep your head on a swivel, clutching your bag for dear life.
Click
You turn slowly, finding yourself face to face with a man in a ski mask, pointing a gun at you.
“Hands in the air. Now.”
You dropped your bag and your phone, which was also in your hand. “Please, sir, I— “
“Shut up!” The man shouts at you, rattling the gun. “I’m the one who talks here.” You nod, your throat feeling dry.
“Now, if you do what I say, you don’t have to get hurt tonight.” He instructs, bending down to grab your items. Tears welled in your eyes. How the fuck am I going to get home? You think to yourself.
He stands up, gun still pointed at you. “Now empty your pockets.”
You nod slowly, shakily reaching into your front pockets. You couldn’t control your body— you’d never felt so helpless.
“Hurry up, bitch!” The man yells, kicking your shin, causing you to fall. You start crying even more, the gun now aimed right at your forehead, as you take the decoy wallet out of your back pocket.
As he looks like he’s about to pull the trigger, a loud bang crackles through the late-night air.
But not from his gun.
In fact, your robber keels over, screaming in agony as his side quickly gets soaked in blood.
You look up and see a dark figure standing on the rooftop of a building across the street. Honestly, you couldn’t tell much, it’s too dark to see, and the figure is mostly encased in darkness. All you see is the outline of the masculine figure, the red trigger light aiming where your robber got shot, and two white, triangular reflections, similar to that of Batman.
But you’re sure as hell this isn’t Batman.
You’re breathing heavily now, focusing back on the man also on the floor before you. The backpack and the phone are still close to him, but his pistol skidded close to you.
You pick up the gun.
The man pleads and begs for mercy as you aim the firearm at him. “Please, don’t shoot me! I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
You carefully walk closer to him, dragging your backpack and phone close to your feet, continuing to aim the gun as you slowly, shakily bend down to pick up your items.
As you’re fully standing again, the man is still writhing in pain. You hear sirens in the distance, sure they’re in the area for something else.
Bang!
You shoot. But not at the man, just close to his head. He’s crying harder as the sound of the sirens approaches.
“Fuck you,” you whisper, gaining your bearings. In a panic, you stow away the gun in your backpack, throw on your hoodie, and continue the rest of the ten-minute walk home.
You’re never particularly at ease, but as you approach your dorm on campus, you still see those dark glowing eyes on top of the building across from you, watching as you close your door.
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The following morning, you contemplated whether you should keep the pistol or not, and against your better judgment, you kept it. Just in case.
A week passes from your attempted robbery, and you seem to be constantly on edge. You told your friends about the night. Of course, not the entire truth. You don’t want anyone knowing you have a gun, of course. But you encourage everyone you know to stay on high alert, and not to be like you, travelling alone.
Just as you did back in high school, you managed to surround yourself with good people who genuinely cared about you. Except this time, these were also people who shared professional interests with you, which made conversations all the more engaging.
“Have you heard of this guy, the Red Hood?” one of these friends, Vivian, asked, staring at her phone. “Apparently, Gotham’s got a new vigilante in town.”
“Huh, I actually haven’t,” you reply, unpacking your things before lecture begins. “What’s his deal? Is he with the Bat?”
“Well,” Vivian’s eyes glaze over the article, “GNN’s saying there’s nothing confirmed. He wears a Bat on his chest, though. Which is weird, because even Robin didn’t do that.”
“Maybe he really isn’t with the Bat,” you comment, opening your laptop to do your own research on the Hood. “Maybe it’s ironic.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Vivian turns to you. “They say he’s been taking down people who run the drug trade around Gotham. Which is kind of what Batman does, except this guy’s not afraid to kill.”
“Yikes,” you reply, reading another headline, “20 Black Mask Lieutenants Beheaded Thursday Night.”
“Boy, would I be scared to be on bad terms with this Red Hood guy,” Vivian comments, closing her news tabs.
As your friend concludes her search, you find a picture of the Hood and note the reflective triangular shape shielding his eyes.
“Yeah,” you ponder. “I’d be too.”
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You couldn’t help but think about this “Red Hood” guy all the time. You had so many questions. Why the drug trade? Does he get anything out of it? Of course he does, but exactly how much? And the much more personal question: Was it him that night?
You decided to make an article about him for the paper, conducting interviews of your own. Over a month, he becomes a fairly popular topic among the Gotham U populace.
“While his body’s tea,” your friend Carrie writes in her section of her column for the paper, “I can’t help but think that what he’s doing is a bit extreme. Besides, do we need anybody else? We have Batman, and if we’re lucky, we get Nightwing too!”
“Batman’s been doing a bang-up job keeping Gotham safe,” your friend Jess points out over coffee at some point. “However violent this guy gets, at least he gets the job done. Did you know that over the last two weeks, dealers have basically disappeared from the elementary schools in Crime Alley? I bet you it’s because of the Hood’s connection to the system.”
As for you, you don’t know what to think. You have always appreciated Batman. To say that he doesn’t do anything would be an understatement; you know that Gotham would be much worse off without him. Still, Jess had a point in what he mentioned about the effects Red Hood has brought to the more marginalized corners of Gotham– it feels like someone is actually pinpointing everyday problems instead of just tackling the Penguins and Jokers of the world.
And there’s the sidekicks.
You always found it inspiring that while Robin left, he took on a new approach as Nightwing and moved to Bludhaven. It’s nice to see how Batman’s inspiration could be moved to other places and whatnot. And of course, Batman’s further leadership in the Justice League has brought Gotham a lot more pride than ever before.
But that last Robin.
Writing this part of your paper brought you back to that night, the tragedy. As you jotted your draft in your notebook, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Seeing the news of the late sidekick’s death, the morning after your prom.. And not too long after, hearing the news about your beloved Jason’s passing as well.
News of multiple people passing in one night was something that, as a local Gothamite, you were desensitized to. At one point, your parents could have been a statistic, as they were in the building when the building of your family’s business was destroyed.
But Jason wasn’t just a statistic. And you lost him. Forever.
You feel another tightness in your chest. Frankly, outside of your conversation with Bruce, you haven’t cried so much about Jason. And you didn’t feel like starting now.
You step outside to your balcony, overlooking the campus. Typically, when your bones feel weak and you feel a sense of dread, you step outside. The Gotham air isn’t exactly the cleanest, but it’s home. And it reminds you where you are, instead of being cooped up in your stuffy dorm.
You sit on a sofa outside, holding yourself while you try not to cry. As usual, you blink it away. And you get up.
As you stand, you see the glowing eyes again.
You squint and rub your eyes, making sure that you’re seeing things right. Sure enough, you can see the silhouette, and it definitely resembles the pictures you’d been staring at for the last couple of weeks.
While it is weird he’s in the same spot you saw him last, you aren’t scared of him. You’re not exactly a drug lord, and you already have an idea that he’s the one who tried to shoot the man who could have killed you the other night. You tilt your head and wave awkwardly.
He waves back and jumps off the rooftop, disappearing from your sight.
The absurdity of this situation snaps you out of your despair as you reenter your apartment, perplexed and somewhat amused.
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That weekend, you and your friends decide to go out. You wanted to make the most of being out and about with them for the time being, at least until midterm season arrives and keeps you.
Today’s itinerary involved a visit to the local flea market in one of the more gentrified areas in Gotham, along with brunch.
“Gosh, I’m so glad you got to come out [Name],” Carrie exclaims, arms linked with yours. “With that robbery that happened, and everything going out, I feel like you needed this the most.”
“Yeah, I’m glad I got to hang with you guys,” you smile. “But really, I’ve been okay! While coursework hasn’t been too much trouble, working on the Red Hood article has kept me busy and somewhat sane.”
“It’s interesting how you’re reading into this guy so much, considering he’s stalking you,” Jess remarks, drink in hand from a food stand you passed by ten minutes ago.
“Jess, I wouldn’t call it stalking if he’s protecting her,” Vivian retorts. “He did make sure our dear [Name] came home in one piece. As long as he’s not being a creeper, maybe he’s just hanging out on campus. Maybe he’s a student.”
“Or maybe he’s got a crush on you,” Carrie says as the two of you giggle amongst yourselves. “You could learn a thing or two from the guy, Jess! Seems like the only thing this guy wants to keep alive is chivalry.”
The four of you head off to another tent with antique items. You walk up to a table set up with old books and peruse the titles.
You look up when Carrie calls for your attention, wanting your opinion on a skirt she found. But before you turn to look at her, you’re looking straight at a ghost.
There before you is Jason, or what looks like could be Jason. You don’t see him for long, but he looks taller and older. He’s wearing all black, and he’s aged. But those eyes. You’d recognize those eyes anywhere.
As soon as a crowd passes through, he’s gone.
Still, you walk over to Carrie, plaster a smile on your face, and tell her the skirt is to die for.
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The day ends well, with the four of you parting after brunch, all with different commitments later in the day. Jess had to work at his uncle’s diner, Vivian had a job interview, while Carrie had a meeting to go over her most recent paper. You have a meeting of your own for student government, working on distributing free goodies for when midterms roll around. The meeting, thankfully, is on campus and ends well before sundown.
By the time you’re home, you’re alone. You make yourself some coffee before committing to doing some light studying for your first quiz of the semester for a few hours.
During a study break, you check your phone and reply to some messages. Idly scrolling through your messages, you see your last messages to Jason.
You hadn’t texted him since he was alive. You know that other people still frequently text their loved ones after passing, but this was different. The last things you had texted each other were about being excited for prom and what time everybody should meet up. You reread these messages every once in a while, when you're feeling down and miss Jason a little extra. Your heart would sink whenever you read where Jason apologized for your fight, promising to be more present and to show up more, or even when he sent you certain memes, way too telling of the times.
You missed Jason so badly.
Of course you thought you saw him at the flea market. Before you looked up, you were picking up a copy of Pride and Prejudice. You’d heard of people who grieve having hallucinations, even if said hallucinations don’t exactly look like the person they are grieving. You read an article about a woman who lost her child as an infant, and hallucinated him growing up as a full-fledged teenager.
While this hadn’t happened to you before, you can’t say you’re surprised it’s starting now. It’s been hard to try to shake the thought of you and Jason starting college together. Would you have attended Gotham U or Yale? Would he have come with you? Campus life would’ve been fun, regardless of what he chose. You bet Jess would’ve liked him, and it would have been nice to have another guy in the group. You bet he would’ve bought that old copy of Pride and Prejudice without hesitation, and you bet he would have gushed about the smell of old books.
Thoughts like this plague your mind when you give yourself an inch of room to think. So you’re not surprised when you project the image of your deceased boyfriend onto some poor stranger at the flea market. But there’s nothing you can do about it.
You see him everywhere, whether you like it or not. You tried your hardest to be logical about this, not to think so much that it hurts.
But tonight, you can’t help but call him.
“Hi Jason,” you say, clearing your throat. “It’s been a while. A little over two years now. And a lot has changed.”
You make your way from your desk to your bed with the speaker on as you brush your hair, just like when you used to call him every night before bed. “School’s been good. I actually really like Gotham U. I feel like you’d hate me for not going to Yale, but at the same time, maybe not so much. You and I had that in common– as crazy as it is, we love it here.”
“Speaking of crazy, I got mugged last week. I know, right? There’s some Batman wannabe going around Gotham, and I think he helped me out. I wonder what you would’ve thought.”
You’re holding your pillow, talking to the phone on the bed next to you, longingly staring at the contact photo you chose for him. It was taken during one of your dates at Robinson Park, and it's an off-guard photo of his side profile. You always stared at the little bump on his nose and longed to trace it with your finger once again.
“I love you, Jay.” Your eyes grow heavy out of habit.
And just for tonight, you let yourself pretend he was on the other side of the call, waiting for you to fall asleep so that he could hang up for you.
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Hope you liked this chapter! Ik the beginning feels slow rn, but we're getting there trust !!
Summary: You lost your boyfriend, Jason Todd, when you were sixteen. Now, you’re grieving his loss while uncovering the mystery of Gotham City’s newest vigilante.
Summary: You are Wayne Enterprise’s trusty new intern. The two co-CEOS, Bruce Wayne and his lovely wife Selina, want to see just how trusty you can be
WC: ~1200
Warnings: 18+, mild degradation
Notes: afab!reader, power imbalance, oral sex (f receiving), implied age gap, f/f, poly, language, voyeurism if you squint, reader has a j*b, mostly catwoman x reader this chapter, but all three next one!
Part 1 | Part 2
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You’re the newest intern at Wayne Enterprises. You had just completed your degree in marketing, and being a Gothamite, this was basically the top job for anyone in your field, and you’re grateful to have bagged it.
Lucky for you, Bruce Wayne just married Selina Kyle, who’s now a part of the family business
Working for W.E, you’re compensated well. The pay is good, and you get fed everyday. Your office isn’t too shabby either, since as Bruce Wayne’s (and by proxy, his new wife’s) personal assistant, they grant you all the space you need.
Though she was an ex-convict, Selina Kyle isn’t half a bad boss. She has a soft spot for you, knowing that you’ve had a hard life, like she has. Unlike Bruce, she’s in office a lot more, so you spend much more one-on-one time with her. Together, you plan every since social media post, and carefully craft every public appearance she makes.
Based on what you’ve heard from peers, you have it really good. You actually get along with your boss well. Well, one of your bosses. Bruce is nice enough, you just never see the man.
But considering how being Selina’s day-to-day assistant consumes every waking moment, you don’t mind the circumstances. Contrary to what the media might say, she is a good boss, and a good company.
She’s also the first to make a move.
It starts one day, when her husband, as per usual, is out of office.
The two have separate offices, though they’re both right next door to one another— your office is almost like the waiting room on the way into theirs.
Selina calls your name and you enter the office promptly. “Yes, Miss Kyle?” Though she and Bruce are married, she insists on being referred to this way. Must be a celebrity thing.
“Please be a dear and close the door,” she says, not looking up from her work on the monitor.
You listen to her. “Is there something i can help you with?”
“Yes, just give me a moment..” she wraps up whatever she’s typing, and fully turns to you. “All done. How have you been, [Name]? Did you enjoy today’s lunch?”
“Yes, it was so good,” you smile, pushing up your glasses. “I love falafel.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Kyle replies, standing up to sit on the desk in front of you, flipping through your files tucked away in a Manila folder. “It’s been six months since you’ve joined us here at W.E. so far, you’ve been a big help, especially to me. I thought this kind of stuff would be boring, public appearances and such, but you make it fun.”
“I’m really glad to hear it, Miss Kyle,” you smile. “I enjoy this kind of work, but I’ve always been one to make sure my boss is having a good time. If not, then the appearances, the posts. Their quality isn’t up to par.”
“We admire your quality of work here, [Last name], that’s why we hired you,” Kyle comments, flipping through the last few pages of your file, and finally closing the folder. “But today, I’ll need a little more out of you.”
Confused, you ask. “What can I be of help with, Miss?”
“You’re so cute, so formal,” Selina muses. “You know you don’t have to be so formal with me, kitten.”
You don’t know what to say, blushing.
“I’ll cut the crap,” Selina gives in, sitting on the large desk in front of you. “Brucie’s been out of town, and I have some needs I need taken care of. I’m a little pent up, and I could use the support.”
“But Miss Kyle,” you say, concerned about your other, higher up boss. “I don’t want to anger Mister Wayne.”
She laughs. “Darling, Mr. Wayne can see everything. I assure you, he won’t be angry with us. I actually think he’ll feel the opposite.”
You’re still speechless, taking a big gulp.
“I won’t start anything unless you say something,” Selina clarifies. “However. I do catch you looking when you shouldn’t.”
She was telling the truth. You’d be lying if you said that you never thought of your boss this way, feeling up on her curves, her perfect body. You’ve wanted your lips to touch hers, you wanted to be hers.
You’d hate Bruce if you didn’t want him just as badly.
“Who knows,” Selina continues. “If you make me happy, I’ll put in a word to the big man and we can all play together. But you have to make me happy.”
With your heart racing, you shakily place a hand on her knee in front of you. “Miss Kyle, may I..?” Your voice trails off.
Selina smirks, opening her legs, exposing her unclothed cunt. You’re almost surprised, but then you remember this is the Selina Kyle, probably the most erotic woman in all of Gotham.
Her pussy is freshly shaved, save for a heart shaped bush pointing directly at her swollen clit. Otherwise, she’s drenched, a vibrator in her cunt.
Surprised, you pull it out carefully, earning A lovely moan from Selina. Growing bolder, you stick it in your mouth, tasting her for the first time, sighing lightly.
“Mm, dirty girl,” she smirks.
You look up at her like a hungry puppy, pulling her closer to your mouth, and you start.
Admittedly, you’ve never had pussy before. You’ve loved women just as much as you’ve loved men, maybe even more. But you never had any luck.
At least until now.
You lapped at Selina’s cunt like a bitch in heat, frankly forgetting to pleasure her, mostly because you’re so desperate for a taste.
She moans, grinding against you. “I thought you weren’t hungry, kitten,” she teases, now grabbing your hair.
“Oh, I almost forgot!” She motions for you to pause, grabbing the abandoned remote control vibrator and the remote across the desk. “Put this inside you.”
You keep lapping at her, as she gives you directions. A little more, a little less. A little faster, suck here. Put one finger in. Now two. You two make a mess, her white shirt now unbuttoned as you feel for her tits. The vibrator makes you act up, the low rumble coaxing juices out of you as you’re eating pussy. As she gets closer, she turns up the intensity.
“Now when I say,” Selina says coolly, yet her strained voice betrays her. “You stick your fingers inside and fuck me until I cum.”
You obey her. “Yes ma’am.”
And when you do just that, she squirts all over your face, twitching uncontrollably, and she puts your vibrator to the max. You cum too, and without thinking much, you lap up the remaining juices, making Selina lose even more control.
You love to see her like this. The Selina Kyle. Unraveling beneath you.
But you soon eat your words as you realize your vibrator is still going, and the sensation becomes too much. You pull it out with a loud moan and a pop, riding out your orgasm and rubbing your wet clit.
The office is filled with the musk of sex and your sighs. You eventually stand up to meet her, Selina still sitting on the desk.
And you kiss her. Again and again. You feel the tingle of her lip gloss, you feel her breasts. Her hands roam your body too, from your shoulders, all the way until she reaches your core. She pauses the kiss to taste you.
“You taste like a slut,” she smirks. You like it.
“Bruce is gonna love our new toy when he’s back.”
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Here’s my other series! This whole thing is going to be pretty much just smut. See you next time with a Mr. Wayne scene :)
Summary: Jason is your high school sweetheart, and you're getting ready for prom!
WC:~3200
Warnings: mentions of death, language, underage drinking, dealing with grief
Notes: sfw, fem!reader, high school sweetheart, friends to lovers, some fluff, established relationship, angst
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Jason was your first everything, like you were his.
You met as first years at Gotham Academy, a preppy boarding school with a bit of a creepy history. The two of you started in the same friend group. People cycled in and out of your circle, but you two were practically joined at the hip as friends for a year.
By sophomore year, Jason asked you out to Winter Formal. That night, you confessed to each other and started dating.
Now, it’s junior year- you’re both sixteen, which means prom is just around the corner! Though you won’t be able to run as queen just yet, as a junior, you could run for prom princess.
Though you both were academic weapons, consistently alternating as the top two in class, you were popular, and valued your extracurriculars differently.
Your goal was to attend a top university and become a lawyer. You had your eyes set on working with property damage, as your family owned a business that was affected by the frequent villain activity in Gotham City. Although it happens out of necessity, as Batman’s trying to protect people, the fallout in the city affects people in the rougher corners of Gotham trying to run their businesses and make a living. Your family was lucky enough to have a decent lawyer at the time, Dent, who also wound up becoming part of the problem.
Jason was different. His grades were good, he was involved with the baseball team, and got along fairly well with people; Jason just didn’t embrace the spotlight, not quite like you did. Although his adoptive father is loaded, Jason had a rough upbringing before his adoption. There was a point in time when high school, let alone private high school, wasn’t even an option for his future. So he was simple and enjoyed pleasures like English class and baseball practice quietly.
Though Jason didn’t care much for the stuff revolving around prom, Jason was extremely supportive of you. Generally, having him and his family around was great– not only because they were rich, but because they were good people who cared for you as their own.
So here you were, slaving away at posters on a Saturday night in one of the kitchens in Wayne Manor. You were already a part of so many clubs and opportunities on campus, having even begun an annual charity drive that continues to raise thousands (your boyfriend’s dad’s generous private donations don’t count). Having something like prom for college apps doesn’t help tremendously, but it adds a cherry on top.
“Hey, [Name], ready for prom?” Jason’s older brother, Dick, asks, passing through the kitchen to grab a soda.
“Nah, not quite yet,” you admit, shaking the last bit of glitter out of the bottle in your hand. “I still got a couple of weeks, though, so I need to lock in for my campaign. I think I’m gonna do a charity bake sale or something like that.”
“Look at you go,” Dick smiles proudly, leaning against the kitchen counter and drinking his soda. “You’re always on it. Just don’t be too on it, okay? Do you even have a dress yet?”
“Of course I’ve got a dress, Grayson,” you roll your eyes playfully. “I just need to take it in for tailoring.”
“Why don’t you just ask Alfie?” Jason enters the room with takeout, stopping by you to give a quick smooch on your head. “Hi, babe.”
“Hi, babee,” Dick mocks his little brother, earning a death glare.
You laugh and reply, “I’m not asking Alfie to do more. Lord knows he does everything around here. Plus, you know I don’t love asking for favors.”
“Oh, please,” Jason retorts. “It’s not a favor if you’re family.”
“I gotta run,” Dick tosses his soda can and gathers his things. “See you, lovebirds! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
“Your brother’s a goof,” you muse, putting your things away for a moment so you and Jason can eat.
“He needs to shut up,” Jason huffs, a small pout on his lips.
“Aww, big baby Jay is embarrassed,” you coo, gently pinching his cheek.
“Don’t baby me,” he says flatly, but not pushing you away as he reaches for the food in the bag. “Got you Cane’s by the way.”
“You really know the way to a girl’s heart, Todd,” you grin cheekily, reaching for your box combo.
“The posters look great, by the way. Love the glitter,” He smiles, admiring your work. “You’re gonna kill it.”
“Thanks, Jay,” you smile. “How about you? How was practice?”
“Can’t complain,” Jason shrugs, opening his box. “It was pretty chill today. Just running drills and such.”
“Oh!” you perk up, getting up to grab the kitchen remote. “Wanna watch YouTube while we eat?”
“Sure,” Jason nods. “Or we can continue Glee.” You’d been making your way through shows you enjoyed that he didn’t watch. You just started the show as a joke, but Jason surprisingly enjoys it.
“Oh, that’s a good idea!”
But as you switch the TV on, as it seems to do with all the TVs in the manor, the news comes on right away. Something about a robbery in Gotham. Typical.
Jason immediately stands up. “I’m so sorry, but I gotta run.” He wolfs down the one chicken tender that he was able to put sauce on.
He gets his things ready, planting a kiss on your cheek. “Don’t hold up for me if I’m out too long. Have Alfie drive you home, but feel free to stay if your folks are cool with it tonight. I got you craft stuff in that Michael’s bag on top of the fridge.”
“Copy that,” you fake a smile. “See ya later, Jay!”
“See ya! Love you!”
“Love you too.” Typical.
It’s always been like this with him. Normally, you didn’t mind. There was always something off about him. He would leave at the most random times, and somehow it was always when danger was within a 5-10 mile radius. As freshmen, you used to give him shit for it, lovingly, of course. Now that you’ve been at the manor and got to know his family a little better, you realize they’re all like that.
To be honest, you could pry if you wanted to. For the sake of self-indulgence, you had nosy tendencies. But when it came to Jason, you respected his privacy. For the sake of self-preservation, you had the feeling that it would be better if you didn’t know anything. So for the past few years, you’d played dumb and acted like it was normal.
However, as of late, it’s been getting to you. Call it curiosity, but it’s been happening more frequently. And he’s been a bit sloppy with hiding his intentions, just as you’d seen right now. You racked your brain before, trying to figure out why on earth he does this.
But tonight, you were just a kid, disappointed your boyfriend didn’t get to hang out with you for longer.
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Two weeks pass in a blur, and Jason’s escapades have been starting to get to him lately.
His usual cheery facade had been fading. You didn’t tell him, but you knew he failed his calc quiz on Wednesday. And you knew he hadn’t been sleeping lately; anyone could see that.
The Thursday before prom, you confronted him. “Are you okay, Jason?” You frown at Jason as he downs another Celsius.
“Couldn’t be better,” Jason grunts, sitting far from you, looking at the TV. You sit in silence for the duration of whatever 90’s sitcom is playing, as you complete your homework, shrugging it off at first. Once you close your laptop and place it on the coffee table beside you, another glance at your boyfriend tugs at your heartstrings.
“Jay,” you say softly, trying to tread carefully, “did I do something wrong?”
He immediately refuses, “No, no, it’s not you, I promise it isn’t.”
“Is it something else?” you ask. “Someone else?”
“Baby, no.” Jason breaks his stony expression, scooting closer to you, grabbing your hand. “Why would you ever think that?”
“Jason, you’re always on the run,” you say to him for the first time. “I feel like you don’t want to spend time with me anymore.”
He says your name, realizing what he’s been doing must look like to you. “I’m so sorry– I had no idea. Bruce he.. He’s been telling me to prepare for the future and stuff. I’m gonna inherit part of Wayne enterprises, maybe even the whole thing, ‘cause Dick’s been telling me that he doesn’t want his half. Bruce wants me to start training.. To be CEO, of course. Down the line. Yeah.” He pauses, catching your concerned expression after bringing up the company. “Bruce’s okay, you know how he is. Always one step ahead.”
“That’s great, Jason!” you smile, genuinely happy. “I’m actually really excited for you. I feel bad that I’m the only one ever talking about the future.”
“Don’t ever feel bad for that,” Jason replies, throwing an arm around you, relaxing on the couch. “You know I love to hear it. Just think– me, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, with my hot lawyer wife who cares about people.”
“Dude,” you laugh incredulously. “Isn’t it a bit too early for that?”
“Nah,” Jason says, unbothered. “It’s never too early if it’s you.”
You know he’s just talking, and you roll your eyes. But in your heart of hearts, you feel the same way.
"While I'm proud of you," you start. "You need to get some rest. What's good being a CEO if the job's gonna run you to the ground?"
"I know," Jason replies, feeling guilty. You gesture for him to lie on your lap, brushing your hands through his wavy black hair. "I just want you to be okay. And stop drinking that crap. It's bad for you."
You lean down, placing a firm kiss on his forehead, earning a smile. You study the features on his face, memorizing the crinkles around his eyes, the curve of his smile, the dimple that appears among a sprinkle of freckles. You then place a soft kiss on his lips, holding him gently, holding him like he means the world, because to you, he is the world.
"Yes, ma'am," Jason hums, snuggling against you, basking in the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp. "Anything for my princess."
˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦ ˚ . ★⋆. ࿐࿔
. ˚ * ✦ . . ✦ ˚ ˚ .˚ ✦ . . ˚ . ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ ✦
It’s finally prom, and you’re at the hotel near the venue, the whole room abuzz. You were able to bring your girlfriends, a few from pretty much each club you’re in, and their boyfriends, one of them being Jason’s baseball teammate.
And of course, Jason is there. Handsome as ever.
You’re wearing a shimmering periwinkle dress that hugs your curves perfectly, your hair in long, flawless curls. As soon as you step out of the bathroom you’re getting dressed in, your friends all gas you up. Music is blaring from someone’s speaker as the girls put on their makeup, while the boys wait in the living room of the suite, taking shots. Everyone’s taking pictures, making TikToks, the works.
Jason is completely taken aback when you step out along with your girlfriends. “You’re gonna drive me crazy,” he says, as a friend snaps pictures of the two of you putting your corsages on each other with her digital camera.
You and your friends wind up taking a couple of shots before exiting to the lobby to await the limo.
“Jay, I’m so excited,” you say, a big grin plastered on your face.
“I’m excited for you, too, sweetheart,” he smiles, kissing your hand. “Tonight’s gonna be a ton of fun. Regardless of whether you win, you’re always my princess.” This makes you beam.
As you take a picture of you holding hands, the white rose on your wrist, and freshly done nails on display, Jason gets an alert from his watch. A message from Bruce. Your stomach drops, and you look at Jason.
He’s never looked so sad, so guilty, trying to speak, “I– “
“Just go,” you drop his hand. “It’s not like you need to be here. I’m the one running for court.”
He looks at you, offended. “[Name], you know that’s not fair,” Jason says a little too loudly, your friends immediately turning to you.
“You want to know what isn’t fair, Jason?” You match his energy, turning red. “What’s not fair is you lying to me.” This earns quiet gasps and mutterings among your friends.
“I’m not lying,” he says defensively, ignoring them. “I told you, it’s Wayne stuff.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.” You don’t even want to look at him. “Just leave, Jason.”
He takes a step back, looking back and forth between you and your friends, who are all now looking at him accusingly. “Whatever. I don’t have time for this.”
And before Alfred pulls up in the limo, he’s gone.
Your friends console you as you enter the limo. “What’s up with him?,” the girl who’s with Jason’s teammate inquires.
“I don’t even know,” he shrugs. “He’s been kind of weird lately.”
“What’s he talking about, ‘Wayne stuff’?” someone else asks.
“Family business,” you say shortly. Alfred looks at you from the rearview mirror, and you exchange a knowing look that Jason’s off doing whatever Jason does. His gaze back is comforting.
“Point is, you’re here, you’re hot, and you’re gonna be princess,” your best friend sitting next to you grabs your shoulder reassuringly. “Forget Todd. I’m gonna kill him later.”
“Thanks,” you take your friend’s hand, grateful for her. “You’re the best.”
And the rest of the night goes well, truth be told. You feel Jason’s absence, but with a couple of extra shots, your party-going friend managed to sneak in God knows how, you wind up forgetting about him and having fun. And, sure, you win prom princess. Your popularity has dubbed you “The People’s Princess,” a reference to your love for Princess Diana, and a testament to the fact that your popularity comes from the fact that you’re kind to everyone.
You go to In-N-Out afterwards, snap a couple of pictures there for your socials, and head back to the hotel for the afterparty, with more of your friends joining you at your suite. More drinks. More pictures.
You blacked out.
The next morning, nothing bad happens. You apparently threw up last night, but you don’t remember. You have a tiny headache at first, but you drink a probiotic and you’re okay. Thank goodness your friends took care of you.
You pour yourself some orange juice, going through last night’s photos on your friends’ shared album, laughing to yourself.
Jason should’ve been there. A nag at the back of your head. Annoying.
Then a notification from Twitter.
BREAKING NEWS: Robin Found Dead at Abandoned Warehouse. Authorities are Investigating.
Holy shit.
One of the guys stumbles out of the bathroom, having slept in the bathtub. He’s the only other person awake and finds you on the balcony. “[Name], did you see this shit?” An Instagram post with the same headline. Some quote from Batman in the bio.
You’d always had a soft spot for the Robins. This is the second one, as far as you’re concerned. It struck a chord to you that he’s just a kid, no older than you. A superhero dying, that’ll always be a big deal. But this is the first sidekick you’ve known about to ever die on the job.
As everyone prepares to go home, it’s all everyone talks about.
Even when you get home to your parents, it’s all they talk about.
The first time you talk about anything else all day is when you get a call from Alfred.
“Hey, Alf,” you say on the phone. “Thanks again for last night.”
“My pleasure, Miss [Last Name],” Alfred replies, his tone sad. “Is this a bad time to speak?”
“No, not at all,”
“I think you should come to the manor. We have something important to discuss.”
You drive to the manor, the June gloom already settling in. You ring the doorbell, and Alfred lets you in, eyes red.
“Oh God, Alf,” you gasp, taken aback. “Are you- is everything okay?”
“Miss, I think you’d like to sit down for this,” Alfred gestures for you inside.
A cup of Earl Grey with oat milk is already ready for you. Thoughtful as always.
Bruce Wayne is sitting at the table, and he looks like shit. A dark red robe is donned over dark blue pajamas, his hair in a mess. His eyebags, usually covered with concealer, are not only there to see, but are so prominent. He’d evidently been crying too.
“Miss [Last Name],” Alfred says plainly, sitting next to you two. “Master Jason is gone.”
Your face goes white.
You look between Alfred and Bruce, silently searching for answers.
Bruce doesn’t answer. He hasn’t even acknowledged you yet. Alfred looks at him expectantly, then walks off.
“Accident,” Bruce says, voice low, trying not to crack. “The damn motorbike. I never should’ve gotten it for him. It’s not safe. Too dangerous,” he says mostly to himself.
You hate to see Bruce like this. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Wayne,” you manage, tears of your own forming. “I.. I should go.”
“No,” he says, “I just want to let you know.. We’re here for you.”
“Mr. Wayne, don’t worry about me,” you immediately wave him off. “He’s your son, I’m just his girlfriend.”
“Yes, but you’re our family now too,” Bruce emphasizes. “And for the last three years of our lives.. Of Jason’s life.” He pauses, the wording stabbing a wound in his heart. “You made it better. He deals with a lot. It took him a while to open up. He had a rough childhood, and there was only so much I could do to make his life better, to try. I was worried, sending him to school, but then he met you and.. And I wasn’t worried anymore. You took him in when he was away from home. And he was so happy with you.”
You’re both openly crying now, and you take Bruce’s hand.
“I feel awful too,” you admit, holding Bruce’s hand. “I- we fought. That was the last conversation I ever had with him. It was bad.”
Bruce looks at you, sadness still in his eyes, but also a sympathy. “We did too. I don’t feel great about it either.”
You sit in silence for a moment, taking a sip of the lukewarm tea. You thank Alfred.
“I want you to feel welcome to keep coming by,” Bruce says. “Just because he’s gone, that doesn’t mean you’re not family anymore. And consider college taken care of.”
Your eyes widen, “But Mr. Wayne– “
“Do it for Jason.”
And so you do. You spend the rest of your life doing everything for Jason. You hang up pictures of him, and you attend his funeral, sitting between Bruce and Dick, who’s heartbroken about his baby brother.
You keep going to school. Your grades dip for a moment, costing you your position as valedictorian, but maintaining your position as salutatorian.
Bruce makes good on his promise to you, paying for all of your college applications. You create a charity in Jason’s name, with Bruce’s help, to financially support social programming for children living in poverty in Gotham.
You visit his gravesite every chance you can, talking to him just as you did before. You'd bring fast food, buy his typical order, and ramble about your day, what show you're watching, and how school's going. You'd tell Jason thanks for helping the baseball team win in spirit. Dick would join you the most, and even brought Barbara by on occasion.
You arrange a seat for Jason at graduation, an empty cap and gown sitting underneath his last school picture. He had a dopey smile that you missed so dearly. You made regalia for him, gorgeous red leis, even decorating his graduation cap to include a quote from a book he loved.
Along with your parents, Bruce, Alfred, and Dick are all in attendance. They announce an annual scholarship in Jason’s name, emphasizing his love for academics and his competitive spirit. You mention him in your speech. You get pictures with him.
"You were supposed to beat me, Todd," you say, placing the regalia down at his gravesite. "I fumbled in AP Lit. That would've been an easy A for you."
To everyone else, Jason is gone. But to you, he’s everywhere. Every time you read a book you like, every time you underline quotes that intrigue you. Every time you eat fast food at an ungodly hour. Every time you watch Glee.
Every time you see a couple on a motorbike, it reminds you of him, not because that’s how he died, but because you remember he took you on your first bike ride to a lookout for your first kiss.
Jason never leaves you. In more ways than one.
˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦ ˚ . ★⋆. ࿐࿔
. ˚ * ✦ . . ✦ ˚ ˚ .˚ ✦ . . ˚ . ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ ✦
Planning more parts for this! Let me know what you think or if you'd like to be on the taglist ♡
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