Rotating an idea in my head;
Imagine a neglected!Reader who did everything in an attempt to impress their family.
Who got amazing grades and got into high school at age 11.
Who was "a savant beyond their years" and "talented beyond what their age group could be taught".
Skills came easy to them. Give them a year and some encouragement and before you know it they'll have mastered whatever it was.
It wasn't like they could leave the house and hang out with friends. Bruce said that was off the table. It got quiet so often in the manor.
But it wasn't enough
Until someone saw the potential that Batman was just leaving there. Like he wanted someone to just... scoop them up and tutor them.
Their friends and allies and even a few enemies saw the potential. They all agreed to teach them their greatest skill. In a year they've mastered all of them, even surpassing some of them.
Any drug they were developing was improved beyond anything they could've imagined.
Weapons fashioned to fit them far surpassed anything, even the best on the black market.
The Rogue Gallery was beyond impressed.
And Reader was on Cloud Nine with all the attention it was earning them. Head pats, praise, treats. It was more than anything they could've asked for. And even if they didn't have a new invention at the end of the week, so many were willing to just hang out. Without prompting! No "Go bother Alfred" or "I'm busy" or "Another time, chickadee".
Harley had to be reminded that a 12 year old had no business around hyenas, even if Budsie and Louie were on their best behavior. Harley settled for watching old magical girl animes with you.
Luckily, Poison Ivy knew not to bring you around her poisonous plants. Though she did spend a concerning time teaching you exactly what plants were poisonous and how they were poisonous.
Bane taught you everything he knew, from throwing a punch, to how to scare someone off. Granted, a 12 year old, with so much of their baby fat in their cheeks, and wrists as thick as Bane's thumb, looked like a Ragdoll kitten copying a Bengal tiger. He played chess with you too, and he said that given your role in advising, a knight or a bishop would fit you best.
Bane was your favorite. He'd smush your face (gently, you were so tiny he was scared of breaking you), lift you up, even do pushups and pull ups with you on his back.
When Bane told you how he'd saved Alfred once during a collapse of Arkham Asylum, only to be incapacitated once Alfred was "done" with him, it made your blood boil.
As you learned all of their stories, learned the human in all of them, you knew that you were saved from a family with rotten blood. You'd spend your life repaying them, even if they never asked.
--------
Eventually, you decide to follow them into battle. You're kept up and away from the bulk of the battle. This time, it was Joker vs the Batfamily. Tim was unable to track what he'd been trying to do past a few errant clues. It was clear that the Rouge Gallery had a new villain.
You were given direct instructions to watch yourself; Joker wouldn't care enough to tear his eyes off Batman. You already knew that; Harley had spent 3 days trying to convince you to reschedule with someone else, but you told her you wanted Joker, not someone who'd be tempted to glance back and give away your hiding space.
Jason was the one that saw you. You were dressed in a costume that resembled a bishop chess piece with a split full face mask, perched atop a van far from the actual battle. His old scars with Joker made him hesitate, but you looked like a definite person of interest, and everyone else was indisposed.
He ran over, firing rubber bullets as you dodged, eventually tripping and falling off the van. Why were you so small? Jason picked you up, grip just loose enough so you could breathe.
You reached up, pulling your mask off. Jason blanched as he saw your face, soft around the edges and wide eyed.
Bruce told him that he'd stayed away to protect you from the vigilante life. You were the one person who hadn't pushed to join them, so he never told you about missions to avoid any ideas of joining. Jason followed suit, and so did the others. Their lives were busy enough anyways, and you had Alfred when he didn't have something more important to do.
He may have brushed you off more than absolutely necessary, but he wasn't in the right headspace then! You had already grown so much and all he'd wanted by then was vengeance on Batman. You couldn't blame him for keeping his distance at that point. He was protecting you.
But here you were, pinned by the throat by your own brother. Your protector. He released you, taking a step back. He glanced around for an opening, seeing a small alleyway. He gestured over his shoulder for you to follow. "C'mon kid. I'll get you back home and I won't even tell Bruce you snuck out, 'k?"
Suddenly, he felt a prick in his back, shortly followed by a burning itch and ice cold pain. He fell to the ground, trying to reach the spot you pricked.
"Miss Ivy said these were dangerous. Her own home blend. It's a diluted version, so you'll be fine in a few days, Todd" said the much too calm voice above him. He was struggling to breathe around the writhing mass of pain, looking up at you between blinks of tears.
He couldn't scream, he could barely breathe. He could die here and the family wouldn't know until the dust settled.
"It won't kill you, and from the looks of it, they'll be coming to pick you up soon."
"Aren't we family?" He chokes out between gasps. He felt so lost. You were his baby sibling, the tiny thing that'd wander the halls, holding an old chess board as you asked your cool big brother to play with you. The person he kept away from to protect. How could you repay him like this?
Hadn't he done so much for you?
You look at him from the boot of the van. When had you gotten so far away? Your voice is quiet, but it's heard, if barely, over the revving of the engine as Joker's minions prepare to drive away, and the screaming of his name as the rest of the family approaches.
"Were we? I never thought you wanted a baby sibling like me."
-------
The Batfamily took him home and patched him up. The new tech, like all other recent inventions brought in, were so advanced they bordered on state of the art. Even Tim was struggling to decode any of them, with all the kill-switches that seemed to recognize when it wasn't hooked up to the original computer and bricked themselves.
Jason had recovered, like you said, in a few days. Capable of breathing easily in 2 days, regularly needing to be sedated before then, and sitting up without pain by day 5.
The Batfamily had asked him by day 4 about the masked person they had seen next to him. Jason was detached from himself. That face, those eyes. They held no warmth for him, no pity for him while he was writhing in agony at their feet. Like he was less than a stranger.
Like he was less than human in their eyes.
Your name fell off his tongue like lead, slamming against the ground as everyone fell into silence.
"It was them. They gave me that injection. Their face, I-"
"Todd, did the injection give you hallucinations? There was no way that they'd accomplish something like that." Damian raised his brow, checking the chart to make sure the bulk was out of his system.
"I know what I saw. They hadn't even injected me when I saw their face."
"That's impossible, Jay! Look, I'll go to their room and get them right now. They'll probably be pretty cranky since it's, what, 4am?" Dick's footsteps disappeared down the hall.
After a few minutes, Dick came running back, looking at Jason with a mix of shock, horror, and confusion.
Two words.
Two words that finally made them look at you.
Two words that made them realized what they'd missed.
Two words that made them connect the inventions that almost got them killed to the darling child they'd convinced themselves they were protecting with cold shoulders and smothering silence.
Two words that made them refocus their sights on bringing you back.
"They're gone."
*Tim and Damian fighting like usual*
*Bat!reader on a call*: Hold on just a second. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. My brothers- My brothers are- *pauses*
*Bat!reader yelled at the two*: STOP.
*Tim and Damian stopped fighting and looked over to where Bat!reader was*
*Stephanie and Duke wheezed as they witnessed the whole debacle*
Bat!reader: GET OFF THE COUCH.
*Tim and Damian scared shitless, got off the couch*
*Stephanie and Duke started wheezing even harder*
Summary: You were Jackie’s best friend in college, but you’ve drifted apart a bit since she’s moved in with her boyfriend-turned-fiance Jeff. You’ve been in love with her for the longest time, but when she calls you still agree to be one of her bridesmaids. Sure hope no one has any second thoughts.
A/N: Jackieshauna fight still happens but Shauna never slept with Jeff. Also assume the wedding planning stuff happens between scenes.
You still remember your and Jackie’s first meeting vividly. Not because it was love at first sight or anything, but because you entered your new dorm room for the first time to the sound of your roommate violently sobbing into her pillows. You stood in the doorway wide-eyed and glanced back at your mother who seemed just as surprised as you. You quietly shut the door and came back a few hours later and pretended that it had never happened when Jackie had excitedly introduced herself to you.
Much of your first semester was spent in a similar way. You had a lot of sympathy for Jackie as she cried so hard about her ex-best friend you’d thought for the longest time that she had died. You had a little less sympathy when you found out they had just gotten in a fight, but you still spent a lot of time comforting her. Her and Shauna had eventually made up after they had both gone home for winter break, but you and Jackie’s bond had already been cemented. You and Jackie were practically inseparable for all of undergrad, and you got fairly close to Shauna for that reason.
You and Jackie had a lot of moments where you were sure that you were about to kiss, but she’d always pull away at the last minute and laugh about how drunk the two of you were. You’d nod along unconvincingly and avoid her for a few days afterwards. You couldn’t remember at what point you had fallen in love with Jackie. Maybe you always were and just didn’t know it. Not that it mattered all that much, you would never tell her. Not when she had him. You didn’t want to ruin that for her, even if it meant stifling all of your feelings. You had a desperate need to get some space between the two of you, in the hope that distance would help your feelings fade.
That had been a big reason why you and Shauna decided to get a place together after Jackie moved in with her long-time boyfriend Jeff. You had both decided by chance to go to the same school to get your Master’s degree and decided to live together to save money. Jackie was both over-the-moon that her two favorite people were living in the same place, and jealous that you were doing it without her. When she drunkenly admitted it one night you looked at her curiously. “Wouldn’t Jeff be one of your favorite people?” You asked. “Oh,” She murmured, as if she had forgotten about him. “Yeah, him too of course.”
…
You were sitting at the kitchen table across from Shauna, the both of you working on separate assignments as the phone rang. Shauna looks up at you to see if you are going to answer it but rolls her eyes as you pretend not to hear the phone. You watch as she gets up to answer the phone, and stand up quickly as she says “Oh, Hey Jackie.” She gives you a smug grin as she holds the phone closer to her ear so you can’t hear what she’s saying.
You watch her as she talks to Jackie for a moment before she gestures at you to walk over and holds the phone between the two of you. “Alright, Jackie. We’re both here now.”
“Hey,” Jackie says excitedly. “Guess what?” She asks.
You and Shauna share an amused look and you groan exaggeratedly. “You could always just tell me?” You plead.
“You drive a hard bargain, L/N.” She teases, “But here it is. Jeff proposed!” You stiffen in shock. Shauna looks at you sympathetically and reaches over to gently squeeze your hand. You wouldn’t say that you and Shauna were close friends, but there’s a certain amount of familiarity that comes from being Jackie-and-Shauna and Jackie-and-Y/N that’s bonded the two of you together. Shauna’s shockingly perceptive when it doesn’t come to things that involve her and Jackie, so it didn’t surprise you that she was the first one to realize that you were in love with Jackie.
You cleared your throat quietly, trying to keep your voice from cracking. You were a little surprised that they had gotten engaged, given that you had met the man a total of ten times throughout the entirety of undergrad, but you congratulated Jackie nonetheless. “Thanks,” Jackie says, in that special way of hers where you can tell even over the phone how hard she’s smiling.
“I want the both of you to be a part of my wedding.” She says, then hesitates.
“I also wanted to talk about my maid of honor.” She says slowly, a little uncertainty clear in her voice.
“You mean you wanted to talk to Shauna about being your maid of honor?” You say teasingly. “I get it, Jackie, really. You’ve been planning on Shauna being by your side since you were children. It doesn’t hurt my feelings.”
“Besides,” You say, grinning smugly at Shauna. “Quality over quantity, after all.” Shauna scoffs and hits you on the shoulder. Fuck, that hurt. You try not to let on how hard she hit you for the sake of your own pride, but she seems to realize anyway. Sorry, Shauna mouths apologetically. You wave her off and snatch the phone from her to say goodbye to Jackie. Shauna promises to get you the details later and you go back to your assignments. You stare off into space for a while before you manage to shake yourself out of it.
She was never yours to lose, after all.
…
You and Shauna drive down separately on the account of you refusing to ride in her deathtrap of a car, and her being offended on her car’s behalf. You're staying at Shauna’s house for the duration of the wedding as Jackie claimed that “you really didn’t want to have to stay with her parents.” From the little Jackie has talked about them you think she’s probably right. Jeff’s car pulls up Shauna’s street about 15 minutes after yours. Jackie, predictably, still refuses to get her license.
Jackie throws the door open before the car even stops and starts running down the driveway towards you. Your eyes widen and you scramble to set your coffee down and brace your knees before she practically mows you over in a hug. You stumble back a few steps and she buries her head in your chest. You hold her tightly against you and breathe in the familiar scent of her shampoo. You can distantly hear Jeff’s car driving off in the background.
After a few long minutes she pulls back a little and looks around curiously. “Where’s Shauna?” She asks, “I thought you left at the same time?” You grin wryly at her.
“We did,” You confirm, “You know Shauna and the speed limit, though.” She laughs brightly. She steps back and rests her hands on your shoulders to look you over thoroughly.
“You’ve gotten your hair cut shorter,” She accuses, running her fingers through the ends.
“I did. I’m surprised you noticed though, it’s only an inch or two shorter than I normally get it cut.” You say.
She looks at you seriously for a moment before softly admitting, “I always notice things about you.” She slides her hands down your shoulders to envelop you once again. You lean back against your car and hold her in silence until Shauna’s car pulls down the driveway.
…
“I’m a little confused,” You say slowly, looking over the bridal magazines Jackie has strewn across the table. “There’s not nearly enough pink and green in here?” Jackie glares at you as Shauna snickers behind you.
“Yeah.” Shauna says playfully, “I don’t feel like this is really you, Jax.”
“Shut up,” Jackie whines pitifully, “It was one time!” You and Shauna share an amused glance over her shoulder as Jackie crosses her arms and pouts at the both of you.
You roll your eyes and hold your hands up placatingly. “I like it if you like it, Jackie.” You say, “You should have whatever you want in your wedding.” Jackie sighs dramatically and flops backwards against the couch.
“Shauna said the exact same thing,” She accuses. “Neither of you are any help.”
“I could have an opinion on the cake,” You offer. Shauna perks up and nods.
Jackie pulls a pillow over her face and screams into it.
…
You slipped away early to go to bed, letting Shauna and Jackie stay up to talk details about the wedding. You weren’t as excited about it as Jackie deserved, anyways. You wake up to the soft sound of the latch catching as someone gently shuts the door behind them. “Shauna?” You murmer a little deliriously.
You hear a quiet laugh as someone sits on the bed next to you. “Not quite.” Jackie says. You glance up at her all bleary eyes and messy hair. She smiles softly at you, looking surprisingly charmed. She runs her fingers through your hair to straighten it out.
“What are you doing here?” You ask.
“Just wanted to see you, I guess.” Jackie says, letting her hand drop as you sit up and scoot backwards against the headboard. “I feel like we haven’t seriously talked in a while,” Jackie admits, looking sad.
“What should we talk about, Jackie?”
She sighs quietly. “I don’t know, Y/N. I just feel like you’ve been pulling away from me lately and I don’t know why.”
You look down, avoiding eye contact. “I’ve just been busy. Pinky promise.” You say, holding your pinky out playfully.
She reaches forward and links her pinky with yours. “A pinky promise? You must be really serious.”
You talk for a while about what's been going on in your lives before she suddenly grabs your hands excitedly. “Y/N!” She admonishes playfully, “He was totally flirting with you.” Your face falls and you start fiddling with her fingers anxiously. She tenses a bit as she watches you. “What’s wrong?”
“I… I’m gay, Jackie.” You say, “I thought you knew that.” She tilts her head in confusion, an unreadable expression on her face.
“Since when?” She asks.
You laugh disbelievingly. “The entire time, Jackie. You met my ex-girlfriend several times.” At her continued confusion you add “Beth, remember?”
Her eyebrows furrow in thought. “You were dating Beth?” She mutters under her breath. “You guys didn’t act any differently than me and Shauna do, though. I thought you were trying to replace me as your best friend.” You snicker at her and she gently smacks her hand against your shoulder in admonishment.
“Don’t make fun of me!” She whines, before looking at you seriously. “How did you know you were gay?” Jackie asks.
“I don’t know,” You say thoughtfully. “I kind of always knew, I guess? One day I just realized that other girls actually care about boys and don’t just pretend to.” You laugh quietly and add, “I used to pick random boys to crush on. I thought everyone did it.”
Jackie stiffens so imperceptibly that you don’t even notice. She smiles stiffly and says “I’m glad you told me. Even if you apparently forgot.”
“I thought you knew!” You defend weakly.
“Sure,” She draws out playfully. “I know how you can make it up to me,” She says, lying back against the bed and tugging on your hand. You shift down the bed and lie on your side facing her.
“I want to sleep in here with you tonight. Like we used to.” She says, flipping over to lie facing away from you. Tentatively you lie your hand over her and pull her closer. She settles happily in your arms.
“You’re marrying Jeff in a few days, don’t you want to be spending time with him instead?” You ask softly against her ear.
She hums dismissively and laces your fingers together, pulling your arm tighter around her. “I’m spending the rest of my life with him,” She says unenthusiastically, “He’ll be fine for a few days.”
“You don’t seem that excited about it.” You say carefully. She doesn’t answer immediately, and for a while you think she fell asleep. “He’s Jeff.” She says finally, as if that ends the conversation. You decide you’ll let her, and drift gently off to sleep.
…
It’s the day before the wedding and you're getting dinner with Jackie, her parents, Jeff, Shauna, and some of her other bridesmaids. You knew one of them from college, but the other you’ve never met before. You think she’s one of her friends from her soccer team, but you’re not sure. You hadn’t really had the chance to find out one way or another. The Taylors have a way of making everything in Jackie’s life about them. They haven’t stopped talking long enough for anyone else to make an attempt at conversation
You smile politely, trying not to let on that you're dying inside. “Don’t you think you should have made us dinner, dear?” Mrs Taylor interjects snidely, “Imagine how embarrassing it would be for poor Jeff if he had a wife that couldn’t cook.” Jackie stiffens as the smile falls off her face. You hold your drink with a white knuckled grip and turn to speak to her. “You’re probably right,” Jackie says, catching your gaze and subtly shaking her head. You’ll let it go for her sake, but you're still pretty tense.
Suddenly you feel Jackie’s foot at your ankle, creeping up your leg. You take a sip of your drink to hide your reaction, stifling a smile around your straw. You nudge her back gently and stop paying attention to the conversation for a while as you play footsie under the table.
You're shocked suddenly when Shauna elbows you under the table. “What?” You ask her sharply. Mrs Taylor gives you a condescending look.
“I asked if you were bringing a date to the wedding, Y/N?” She asks.
“Oh, uhm no. I’m not.” You answer.
She shares a knowing look with her husband and murmurs “See, I told you she was one of those…” quietly enough that she thinks you can’t hear her. You scoff quietly, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.
“One of what, mom?” Jackie asks sharply, smiling tensely. Mrs Taylor visibly startles.
“Oh, just… One of those feminist types that don’t want a man.” She lies unconvincingly, the shock of being called out obvious. Jackie grins dangerously at her, like a shark that’s smelled blood in the water.
You can’t look away from her. Have her teeth always looked this sharp? You wonder. You’ve never been on the other side of this Jackie, and you hope you never will be. Still, it’s one of your favorite versions of her. This is Jackie defending someone that she loves, even though she rarely defends herself.
“Really?” She asks softly, “It sounded like you were implying something else.” Shauna lifts her drink to her mouth to hide her grin, watching intently. Seems that she’s been waiting for the Taylor’s to get what’s coming to them for a while. Jeff looks between the two of them looking confused, but ultimately decides it’s none of his business as he returns to eating his dinner.
Mr Taylor lays a hand on Mrs Taylors arm and smiles stiffly at Jackie. “I’m sure,” He starts, “That your mother wasn’t trying to apply anything untoward, Jackie.” Jackie relaxes back in her seat, obviously content with her parents backing down. She turns to look at her mother.
“Could you pass the water pitcher?” She asks sweetly, as if nothing had happened.
You catch her arm outside the restaurant later as she goes to leave with Jeff. “Could I talk to you real quick?” You ask. She looks back at Jeff who shrugs and walks over to lean against his car. “I just wanted to say thank you. For earlier.” You say.
“Oh, with my parents? It was nothing.” She says.
“It wasn’t nothing, Jackie. I know how much your parents' approval means to you.” You admit. “It really meant a lot to me that you’d risk it to stick up for me.”
“Of course I’d stick up for you,” She says obviously, as if the idea of acting otherwise never even crossed her mind. “You're my…” She trails off unsurely. She worries her lip between her teeth for a second before continuing quietly. “You’re my Y/N.”
“Your Y/N?” You ask playfully.
“Yep,” She confirms, popping the p. Jeff sighs audibly behind you. She glances back at him before saying “I’d better get going, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’ll look for the prettiest girl in white there,” You whisper conspiratorially. She looks down to hide her blush, but you know her far too well. She turns to walk away before quickly stepping back towards you. You stand there frozen as she stands on the tips of her toes and gently presses a kiss against your cheek, before hurrying back to Jeff.
You watch as she turns and gets in the car, making eye contact with you until Jeff finally turns out of the parking lot. You watch the car go down the street and out of view. Then you just stare at nothing. One more day. You think. One more day until it’s over. One more day until you lose her forever.
…
You glance over at the clock curiously. The corners of your lips quirk up, but you try hard to suppress a smile. Jackie’s never been the most punctual of people, You think, But I never thought she’d be late to her own wedding.
You imagine the look on her face if you said that to her. Fashionably Late, Y/N. She’d chide. Besides, I’m worth the wait aren’t I? You can practically see the smug little grin she’d be wearing. You're lost in thought for a moment until you notice Shauna motioning to you out of the corner of your eye.
Your eyes snap to her and she motions you towards her. You step out of line with the other bridesmaids and walk after her curiously. When you’re both out of view she leans against the wall and pinches the bridge of her nose between two fingers, sighing exhaustedly. “Jackie wants you,” She says.
“Want me for what?” You ask. What could she possibly need you for five minutes past the time she was supposed to walk down the aisle? You wonder.
“Why don’t you go ask her? I’m not the messenger, Y/N” She says. You hold your hands up placatingly before walking off to Jackie’s room. You knock three times on the door but she doesn’t answer. You hesitate for a second, glancing back at Shauna who waves dismissively at you. You slowly open the door and see Jackie in her wedding dress crying on the window seat.
The sight stops you in your tracks. You hadn’t seen Jackie’s wedding dress as she insisted on it being a surprise. “You’re a vision,” You breathe out in awe. You can’t take your eyes off of her. You’ve always thought she was the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen but this… This was something else entirely.
She huffs a laugh as she looks up at you through teary eyes. “I probably look like a mess,” She says dismissively.
“I don’t think you could ever look like a mess,” You admit as you sit next to her. She watches you for a long moment as she tries to discern whether you're telling the truth or not. She leans forward quickly and kisses you desperately. You're frozen with shock and she seems to take this the wrong way as she pulls back and starts babbling apologies.
You lay a calming hand on her shoulder, and lean down to kiss her again. “No, I was just surprised. What…” You hesitate. “What about Jeff, Jackie?” You startle as she starts crying even harder.
"I don't want to marry Jeff!" Jackie sobs out. You groan loudly and she looks up at you through tears.
"Hey, hey no it's okay," You console as you wrap your arms around her. "You couldn't have made this decision while we were still in the car, though?"
She laughs wetly as she buries her head in your neck. "Do you think you can run in your wedding dress?" You ask.
She pulls away to look at you wide eyed. "No. Not without falling." You hum in acknowledgement and shift Jackie in your arms to get a better grip on her.
"We'd better get going then. Your dad is still waiting down the hall to walk you down the aisle." You say.
She looks shocked. "You're coming with me?" She asks quietly. You laugh softly.
"You can't drive, Jackie. Were you planning on being a walk away bride?" You tease. She blushes, turning her face away. You stand up with Jackie still in your arms and she screeches in shock as she grabs onto you.
You start walking her towards the door when Shauna storms in, obviously hearing Jackie. She looks at the both of you confused. "Jackie forgot her running shoes," You say wryly.
Shauna's face lights up and she grins. "You're leaving Jeff at the altar?" She asks Jackie.
Jackie pulls her engagement ring off and holds it out for Shauna. "Will you tell him for me?" She asks softly.
Shauna nods and reaches forward to grab the ring. "It's my duty as maid of honor. Of course I will." Shauna says, amused.
You start walking hurriedly towards the exit when you hear Shauna mutter "And my pleasure," as she gleefully marches off towards the ceremony.
You set Jackie back on her feet as you reach your car and unlock the doors. You start the car just in time as Jackie's parents come storming out of the church screaming at her to get back. She looks at you wide eyed and you raise an eyebrow in question.
"Drive!" She yells gleefully. You pull out fast enough to squeal the tires as you zoom down the road and away. She leans back against the seat and laughs hysterically, her once perfectly pinned hair wild and unkempt. You sneak a glance at her out of the corner of your eye, shaking your head softly with a grin on your face.
…
3 Months Later
You climb up the bed and settle on top of Jackie, burying your head in her neck.
"God," Jackie says, shifting under you to get comfortable. "I'm exhausted."
You barely resist the urge to laugh, settling instead on the most charming smile you can muster. You don’t think it works all that well.
"What's so funny?" Jackie says, pouting at you.
You reach for her arm and press a gentle kiss against her hand . She grins softly at you and links your fingers together. "I just think that it's a little funny," You start, holding your thumb and your index finger barely apart. "That you're so exhausted, when…" You press another kiss to her hand.
"When… What?" She asks softly, smiling so hard that it looks like it hurts. You tighten your grip on her hand.
"When you didn't really do anything." You whisper playfully. She scoffs and pushes weakly at your shoulders to get you off of her.
"I did things," She whines, pouting pitifully at you.
"Yeah?" You tease. She nods seriously.
"It's hard being the main event. You wouldn't understand."
"You're right," You say. "I guess I don't understand the difficulty of lying on your back and looking pretty."
She blushes and tugs gently on your hair in warning. "My talents are always under-appreciated." She agrees playfully.
You huff a laugh into her neck and settle your full weight on top of her. She fakes a pained groan, but presses a kiss into your hairline anyway.
"O'course, princess. Whatever you say, beautiful." You murmur sleepily.
adult jackie bot meet cute please please please
BOT DROP .ᐟ
• roomies ✧.*
jackie was incredibly nervous. she'd never had to go through meeting new friends, and rooming with someone. but she only had one goal- become friends with her roommate.
i combined this ask and one for jackie post senior year meeting new people!!
Smalltown!Meta!Reader x Yandere!Batfamily: Part One - Rewrite
A/N: I got stuck on the action scenes in Part Nine and decided Hey, I should rewrite the earlier parts since my writing has improved. Only to realized, a lot of shit went down in those earlier parts. lol. help. This is 4.6k words and I have to make into two parts because so much happened.
Link to the Original Part One.
Warning: Parental Death, talks of grief, Bruce being an obsessive and cryptic mf, Alfred being a bit delulu, attempted GN!Reader.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
You had a happy childhood. You know that. You've always known that. People had repetitively said it to you. Over and over again. Blessed. Lucky. Privileged. Not just with material things, but with affection and talents. And, it seemed to increase as you got older and the circle of people you interacted with slowly began to expand and bubble around you. Sure there were some struggles. Some terrifying and suffocating moments. But, life was good.
You were quite serious as a child when you were told to be grateful for what you had. You'd say that mind et helped you retain some level of humility. But, in reality, you were grateful because you were selfish and didn't want to lose what you had. Not even for something better. You had enough. You could make the rain fall or the sunshine or even make a snowman on a hot summer day. And, you were loved. What more could you want?
The children's stories about being greedy stuck with you. So, being a little selfish was fine, but being greedy was not.
Besides, there was nothing to be greedy for. You had loving parents, lived in a wonderful community. Fresh air, good food, good clothes. An annoying, but lovable little brother.
Life was practically perfect.
I mean, sure, you had to live with the knowledge that Daddy wasn't your real father. It wasn't something that had been hidden from you. You knew, you were told. He loved you all the same and spoiled you almost as much as he did your Momma.
The way he loved you was without question. You might have thought he would have been weirded out when you discovered you were a meta, but out of everyone in the town and in the family, he had been your rock. He'd been the one to sit with you when you struggled not to make it rain in the house. When you accidentally shot off lighting when you sneezed. When your crush said you looked cute and a snow flurry followed you around for three days.
But, there was the fact that you just wanted to know who it was. Daddy even agreed that you should have been told who the man was. Not that even he knew. He didn't care about knowing who the man was. He'd probably just thank him for giving him such a blessing before containing to enjoy his easy going life.
You weren't greedy with it. In fact, you had dropped the topic after months of asking.
So why did everything fall apart if you didn't commit the sin of greed?
Why were you standing over two graves in the back of the family property surrounded by your loving town?
You couldn't muster the will to let rain fall. Rain was your delight. A delight you shared with Momma and Daddy. With them gone, seemed the only thing to fall was you and Lukie-boy's tears.
Condolences and condolences. You knew everyone meant well, but right now all you wanted was to curl up in Momma and Daddy's bed with your little brother and bury yourself under the covers. Just pretend this was a nightmare.
You didn't care that you were almost an adult, the grief left you feeling strangely like a child.
Nana had taken over most of the proceedings. While Granddaddy kept you and Luke close. You couldn't stop yourself from leaning into him. Being reminded to the silently way Daddy would hold you. Nana had a tendency to be overbearing and she was even more so today as she fluttered about Luke and you with concern.
You had to remind yourself she was also burying her son, and that made you hold back your tongue and most of your tears.
It wasn't until everyone moved back to the church building for some food that you felt the shift in the atmosphere. One you know you hadn't caused yourself with your lack of energy at the moment.
There was a man. He wore a sharply fitted black suit. Faintly you heard Mae mutter that it was Tom Ford in the same tone she used when speaking about her fabric and bugs.
You didn't recognize him. In fact, no one seemed to recognize him. That was until you really looked at him and you meet his gaze with your own solemn one.
Everyone said you were a sweet child. But, Mae was your best friend and she had little filter on her thoughts. And, you recall what she had said to you once after that long forgotten incident in the bayou a few years back.
"When you frown, when your eyes narrow, when your nose wrinkles in anger and annoyance, you're entire face reminds me of a dark and stormy night. Like from the stories. Even when your eyes glow, there's a shadow sometimes."
You had seen what she was talking about in the mirror once. Had wondered who it was you had gotten that from. It wasn't from Momma, or MawMaw, or Gab. But, you remember the way your Momma would sometimes look at you when you got like that. The way she'd poke your sides until it went away or held you close until it melted it off.
You didn't know who you got it from back then.
You did now.
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Bruce had hoped this day would come, but not like this. Not in a way that felt like history repeating it's self once more.
Two people dead, but this time two children left.
He wasn't even meant to get the call from what he knew. It was an accident. Something he was grateful for when he pushed that DNA test on Adeline all those years ago. A social worker, fresh to the field, called the manor. Luckily, Alfred had picked up the call. And, right when Bruce had walked down the steps, nearly missing the last one when he saw the expression on his face. One he has seen a few times before.
"Yes, he's just come down. I'll inform him myself, and he will be there promptly. No, no, travel will not be an issue. Thank you, Ma'am. Have a pleasant evening." The elderly man's voice remained stoic and composed, but Bruce watched him lean all his weight onto the decades old accent table enough for him to hear both, the bones of his Butler and the table, creek.
Alfred pressed a hand to his face, only letting out a sigh when he wanted to curse. Curse the word. Curse the Wayne name, curse the blood. Just scream at the cursed world. But, he didn’t.
He couldn't even bring himself to look at Bruce. His son. Knowing that this would break another piece of him once more.
"Ms. Adeline and her husband have passed."
Bruce's reaction is immediate as he moves in a rush. "The children-"
"Alive and well. Or, as well as they may be, all things considered," Alfred manages to finally take a weary breath before letting out an exhausted exhale.
"Drunk driver. Ms. Adeline and her husband had been on a date that evening. The children had been home. They pulled the car from one of the swamps this morning after a fisherman spotted it. It- It appears Ms. Adeline was rendered unconscious during the crash. And, Mr. Anderson drowned trying to unbuckle her." The old butler manages to keep a slightly even tone when speaking. Relaying the information he managed to garnish from the young social worker.
For Bruce it was a tragic sigh of relief. You were alright, but not alright. Tragedy had struck you, but not taken you.
"I'll be leaving to get-"
"The young Jean-Luc is already set to stay with his grandparents. But, the courts deemed you fit to take custody of our-" Alfred coughs, catching himself.
"Understood." Bruce grits his teeth. He doesn't want to separate siblings, but maybe you being around your other siblings will be enough. Besides, he can petition for custody. Surely an elderly couple would prefer their grandson stay with his closest relative?"
"I'll have my secretary arrange a flight out and clear my schedule. We need to cover all press leaks as well." Batman was in control now, already coming up with a plan and mentally coming up with a new patrol roster for the coming few days while he heads towards the cave.
"Alfred, prepare a room for them, please." He also asks, knowing the older man would need something to do unless Bruce wanted him to nearly exhaust himself by cleaning the manor top to bottom.
"Which room, sir?"
Bruce pauses to consider the options in the manor. Most of the rooms having been filled by the others or are in need of repair.
But, one does pop into mind.
"The Madam's Room."
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During the flight to that little backwater town in Louisiana, Bruce passes the time with his own thoughts. It's only a four hour flight by private jet, but, for a man like him, playing with the thoughts in his head can be dangerous.
The 'what if's linger in his mind. The few times he's allowed himself to stare at you through the screen of the Bat computer on your birthday. The occasional way he'd let his eye's linger on Adeline. Noting how she's aged like wine. How she remained soft and warm in each image and her only wrinkles were faint and clearly from sunshine and laughter. Faintly he could hear it echo even now. The throaty sound added to the list of things that haunt him.
Sometimes his eyes would linger on Jean-Luc in those rare instances. The boy an exact replica of his mother, with her warm brown eyes and curls. Sometimes, he'd pretend they were dark blue like his own. But, only for a second before he wiped to computer's hard drive and replaced it with another one.
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Your feelings over the entire matter were… complicated. You certainly didn’t expect to find out your biological father was one of THE richest men in the entire world.
But, it was just such an odd situation.
You had wondered about him, yes. But, you didn’t want to leave everything behind in your hometown.
Nana had thrown an absolute fit about him taking you. It was almost terrifying to watch the sweet woman you loved practically spittle with rage. Though in her defense, he had offered to take Lukie-boy too. Like an added bonus. Apparently he collected orphans judging from your quick google search in the bathroom after his arrival. Guess that means you fit his criteria now.
You had flinched when he’d done that. You understood he was trying to keep the two of you together - you did appreciate that, but the dirt over Momma and Daddy’s graves had barely settled before he’d made the offer in that almost posh accent of his.
It had soured things a bit, but you tried. You had tried.
Reassuring Nana that you’d call her every week helped her cope a bit. Telling her you’d promise to keep her updated helped soothe her some. And, asking her that she help by just focusing on Luke seemed to bring her back to reality.
Though she did grumble and get that terrifying look in her eyes when your family lawyer, one of the town residence explained that a new social worker had made the call to him accident. That same look that made Momma weary and Daddy's face age. But, they weren't here any more so there was only you to watch with furrowed brows.
Instead you hugged Luke, kissed his curls like Momma used to only to the be pulled into tight embraces and firm grips by nearly everyone you knew before boarding the private jet with your father.
It felt weird to say father.
Daddy was dead. Drowned and buried and in the dirt. Yet, here was your father. You didn't want to replace Daddy.
You also didn’t know how to react. How to handle this new father. And, you guess neither did he. Since for the first two hours of your flight to Gotham city, the man was completely silent. So instead you decided to look for similarities. Already you found one.
Momma had a thing for the quite type, you decided.
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Bruce couldn't really bring himself to say anything. To see you in person finally after all the years, made something in him break and the pieces collide back together suddenly. He's seen still shots with the highest quality imaging. Videos and audios with the best equipment money could by or he could create.
But, there was something different about watching you breath and blink in real life. No need to rewind and watch the footage again. To pretended he was there in those moments. He had you here beside him now. His baby.
And, you were beautiful.
Just as beautiful to him as you were in the first image he'd received of you in that clear hospital nursery cradle. He stands by his previous thoughts. You had his mother's eyes. And, now grown you had even more of his mother's features, blended together with your own mother, of course. Something he strangely found himself grateful for. A small reminder that he had once held a softer woman once. Even if he ended up letting her go.
But, he was afraid. This was a different fear than when he was introduced to Damian. Damian had been a surprised, not entirely un-welcomed. But, Bruce knew Damian was expecting Batman as his father. You were expecting Bruce Wayne. And, Bruce Wayne as a father didn't exist.
The media may say otherwise, but it was an act. And, he couldn't give you an act. He wouldn't. He wasn't going to lie to you. But, he needed you to be safe. Especially now. Especially when you had such sad eyes and a frown like his own on your face from a loss he deeply understood, but couldn't help you with. Not in the way you needed. Your hands were far to delicate for justice.
He'd already made plans to track down the driver that knocked Adeline and her husband into the bayou as you called it. He could see the way you shudder and how your eyes would water each time your mother and step-father's drowning was mentioned. Something he desperately wanted to ask about. A fear he could sense that he so deeply wanted to understand.
Instead, he finally broke his silence after you both were halfway to Gotham.
"Don't worry about being introduced to everyone right away. I want you to take some time to get acclimated to the Manor. Settle in a bit and find a new routine." He finally said, hiding the rough raw emotions he was feeling from sheer will power.
"I appreciate it, sir." Hearing you drawl even though your voice was hoarse was something Bruce found himself taking a deep breath over. Letting it sink in.
"You don't have to call me 'sir'. I know you have manners and all that, but you can call me," Father, Dad - give him the title he desperately wants, "Bruce. If you'd prefer."
"Understood, sir-- I mean, Bruce." You trail off, awkwardly. The silence filling the air. The jet was clearly one of the fancier breeds, considering you couldn't even hear the engines and use them as white noise.
"Um, what's Gotham like?" You finally decided to ask. Crossing your ankles in and attempt to relax while your eyed drift towards him again.
His eyes strangely seem to light up at your question, though a frown tugs at his lips.
"It is, in short summary, dangerous. There a lot of crime in the city. You'll defiantly be staying in the manor after dark."
You try ignore how he's instantly ordering you around. Like your not seventeen. Like you didn't just leave a loving home where you were allowed to float on the breeze through the bayou's trees at whatever hour you pleased. Things were going to be different, and you'd accept that. For now.
"What's the manor like?" You decided to ask instead. Concluding it was a fairly safe question.
"Oh, I think you'll like it." Was all he said while smiling warmly.
Already you wanted to smack him. You wanted conversation, not to talk to a damn cryptic.
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You should’ve taken Bruce’s ambiguous nature at face value for what your life was about to become.
Quite.
You wouldn’t have minded too much, if it wasn’t for the fact that you were stuck inside Wayne Manor while Bruce got all the paperwork set up for your fancy new school and the fact that he wanted to ease you into things at a snails pace.
Though you wouldn’t forget about the overwhelming nature of the entire situation. Looking up at the veritable brick castle of multiple styles you’d seen throughout decades of different architectural trends. The only comment you had gotten from him when you asked about it was that it had been in the Wayne family for over a century while he smiled proudly. Like that single sentence was enough to fill the silence.
You didn’t like silence.
Even when you were alone, you liked to listen. To music, to the wind, to raindrops, to the cicadas and crickets chirping back home. Not hollow echoing silence.
What made it worse was that Bruce practically disappeared after he introduced you to the family butler. A kindly old man that already gave you a fond look as you toddled after like a helpless newborn duck still learning how to swim and trying not to drown. His smile growing even wider when you asked your polite questions about the history of the manor, wanting to feel some familiarity if you were going to be stuck in these dark wood paneled hallways with red carpets.
Apparently, the house castle was built in the Colonial period. Fascinating, when were the gargoyles added then? Keep talking, please. You didn’t want to deal with thoughts of your grief and loneliness.
It was up two flights of stairs that you really got hit with the reality of your situation.
You remember the soft greens and earthy tones your mother was fond off when decorating your childhood home. The white trim that caught the light from the windows. The light oak wood floor that somehow felt softer than the carpets here. Even in the shadowed corners the most dangerous thing you’d find was a dust bunny. Your own room filled with dusty blues and soft whites and greys like a cloudy sky.
Here, you were hit with RED.
So much red. Dark floral wallpaper, that you’d admit was gorgeous in its vividness. But, it almost overwhelmed you. Not even the cream colored sheets and curtains could make it any less underwhelming.
“This is the Madam’s Room. Primarily, it’s been used as a closet and dressing room by previous ladies of the house. An example being your late-grandmother. I’ve taken the liberty of having her portrait hung over the mantel with your great-grandmother also having her portrait in here as well.” You couldn’t even be upset by the hint of pride in the man’s voice. The room was beautiful, tastefully decorated. Charming. Sophisticated. Historical. A million different of fancy words. But, it wasn’t home.
“Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth, sir.” You murmured looking around the room while giving him your best attempt at a smile.
Your eyes catching the aforementioned portrait over the fireplace. The breath in your chest catching. Everyone always said you looked like Momma just with different eyes and a few other little things. They didn’t feel so little now. You looked too much like the woman in the portrait. Way too much like her.
“My own room is right across the hall in case you need anything else, my dear. Please, do not hesitate to ask. And, most importantly, you are more than welcome to call me Alfred.” You snap out of your thoughts and let your manners take over, smiling politely and nodding along.
“Thank you, Mr. Alfred, sir. I most appreciate it.” You hide behind a grateful tone that seems to make him look at you with an even fonder expression.
“I’ll let you to get settled in then, my dear. Feel free to add your own touches and take it easy. Everyone else is out of the manor at the moment so don’t worry about having to entertain any questions for the time being.”
God, you’d rather answer the most invasive questions in existence than be alone right now in such an unfamiliar place. But, you smile anyway.
“Thank you, again. I really do appreciate it, sir.” Are your finally words before your left alone and the thoughts creep in.
It isn’t until you’re unpacking a few of the little things you grabbed from your room and the clothes that don’t even begin to fill the closet that it hits you. Your little happy lightning cloud pillow looking like a children’s toy on the pillows. It technically is one, but seeing it makes you realize you don’t really feel like a child anymore. Though you still cling to it as you cry softly.
You don’t bother causing it to rain.
Instead, it’s noted by those on patrol, how that particular Gotham night is unusually warm.
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Alfred felt unfortunately blessed. Bruce wanted to ease the poor child into life in Gotham, but just from how overwhelmed they were he could tell it was not going to be like any of them expected things to go.
But, it was nice. Pleasant to have someone that just wanted to lightly talk without the long history of patching up their skin and mending their bones to contact them. He would admit he thought often of Martha.
Alfred could easily conclude he was growing sentimental. But, he excused that. It was common at his age. Instead he just enjoyed your company while Bruce had the rest of the family hold back their introductions.
Though really. Bruce’s antics were a little less amusing this time around. Waiting until you were in the house and settled into bed before abruptly calling a family meeting to announce your presence? He doesn’t blame the others for being outraged. They should have at least been informed before you arrived. Though, he supposed it was for the best. It would have to do now, regardless.
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“Alright, B-man. What’s this about? No one’s escaped Arkham, and I have Alfred’s birthday marked on my phone’s calendar. So this better be important.” Jason had sat back in one of the caves chairs, possibly Tim’s judging from how he kept giving him a dirty look for creating his feet near some tech junk on the metal counter in front of him.
“What about the rest of our birthday’s?” Steph had to ask, grinning at him from her own perch next to weapons rack.
“Not as important.” Jason dismissed with a wave of his hand causing her to snicker. Duke also chuckled from his own seat, before sat more at attention. Or, at least as much as he could considering he was just about to head out on patrol.
"Didn't include your own birthday in that?" Dick quipped back, stretching the tension from his shoulders after the drive from Bludhaven. He had also picked up Barbara on the way which had added extra time. She had her chair rolled up to one of the tables where Cass was sitting cross legged on.
Only Cass wasn't in a joking mood, she was to busy observing Bruce. Noting the flickers of multiple contradictory emotions in him. Damian's eyes drifted towards her from where he stood at attention. Already suspicion brewing in his gaze at what she could possibly be reading from the family's patriarch.
“Does this have anything to do with that guest your brought to the manor?” Barbara eventually asked, catching everyone’s attention before their heads swiveled to Bruce. A guest meant they had to be careful in the manor, or at least above ground. Below it things were clear to run like normal.
“Great.” Stephanie said dryly, “How long are we going to be running like this?”
“A while.” Bruce finally answered after a moment. For once feeling out of his depth to explain this. As Alfred walking into the cave, he knew it was time.
“I believe they’re asleep now. The poor dear seemed exhausted.” The older man said while taking a seat himself, his eyes solemn and soft.
In a room of raised detectives they caught the look and the way Bruce was acting.
“Really, Father? Another stray? Thomas was bad enough don’t you.” Damian comments with little heat behind his words while Duke gives him a look of mock outrage.
“This one isn’t a stray.” Bruce admits, knowing that Damian was about to take this the hardest.
“You flew to Louisiana for them. A bit far for your usual route?” Barbara questions already rolling away from the table and towards him.
“Did you finally sign up for one of those adoption websites and get an alert?” Jason scoffed a bit.
“No. They aren’t adopted. They’re my biological child. Officially.” He finally announced, wanting to get the worst of it out of the way.
That seemed to stun everyone for a moment. However, Dick was the first to recover. Catching how serious Bruce was being. “Bruce, is this another Damian?”
Damian bristled at the question, but knew Dick didn’t mean anything harmful by it. However his breath did catch when it was Alfred that answered.
“No, Master Bruce was informed of their birth and subsequently had a DNA test done years previous.”
That made everyone’s heads spin. But, not as much as Damian’s.
“You knew about them and, you never told me?” He had meant to say ‘us’, but this was different. This was a blood matter. And, while he knew blood didn’t truly matter to make a family, it did forge a connection between people willing or unwillingly.
“Hold on, is this from the worst of your playboy days?” Barbara asked, trying to wrap her head around it.
“Yes. But, it was a particular woman. None of you meat her, except Jason.”
Heads and eyes and ears turned to him instead, watching for his reaction.
“Don’t look at me, he went through like fifteen women—“
“It was Adeline.”
Oh.
Jason remembered her. Hell, he had actually liked her. She lasted about three weeks longer than all the others. And, she was softer, warmer, with a drawl that he sometimes imagined reading to him. She hadn’t tried to be motherly to him, but it was clear to him she could’ve been. She could’ve been a lot of things.
But, Bruce had thought her too sweet and too good. And, had let her go. Jason had been sad about it. But, not distraught. It really was for the best, he'd thought. She had been to good for Bruce.
However, if he knew one thing, her kid probably had the best childhood in existence. And, away from Bruce to boot.
“The Cajun and Creole southern belle.” Was all he commented, drawing a few raised brows.
“With a bit more... spice than we anticipated. She had won full custody of their child while Bruce had been on a league mission.” Alfred added to the subject. Making Tim whistle a bit.
“Oh, damn. Those lawyers must have been good.” Was all he could find himself adding to the tense conversation.
“So, they’re… normal?” Was Stephanie next inquiry. Already feeling that spark of jealousy in her chest. A normal childhood only to end up with Bruce as your surprise dad? Talk about winning the genetic lottery.
“Yes. They’re ‘normal’. I don’t want them involved with any of our night work. Everyone is to keep it under wraps.”
“Until?”
“There is no until. Keep it under wraps.”
It was then everyone realized, Bruce was willing to throw away their entire routines and make their jobs more stressful just for this person. A person he saw fit not to trust any of them with. A person he was prioritizing over them, and possibly over the mission.
And, that pissed off more than a few of them.
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Taglist:
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A/N: Sooooo, what we think? Improvement, I hope? Don't worry, the neglected bits are coming and Yandere bs going to begin. I'm just tightening things up a bit.
A/N: Here's my Ko-Fi link. (My husband encouraged me to make it for diet coke, my weakness.)
Masterlist
Let's say a criminal decided to attack Gotham's main power source at the dead of night, leaving the entire city pitch black and even more eerier than it usually was.
While Bruce is away dealing with the issue he left you in the care of your siblings.
"Where's the toddler, they were here five minutes ago?" Jason asked as they frantically searched your room.
First it was Tim, then it was Damian, now it's you. They weren't even sure how you managed to get out of your room while keeping absolutely no noise whatsoever.
"Oh God, we lost another one" Dick yelled into the darkness of the manor.
"We're dropping like flies?!!" Dick continued his panicking.
"Shut up" Jason yelled.
Meanwhile the three of you were wondering around the pitch black manor, your small frame clutching tightly onto the fabric of Tim's shirt.
You weren't a big fan of the dark, so when you woke up from your little nap to see that your room went from bright and colorful to dark and scary you immediately burst into tears. (How Dick and Jason didn't hear your crying is a wonder)
Your cries were like a mini bat signal, alerting everyone in the area that you'd awoken from your short nap and making them immediately flocking to the area.
And by them I mean Tim and Damian.
So currently you were rested on the hip of your tired older brother while Damian followed quietly behind you.
"I swear these idiots always forget that we have a generator" Tim mumbled to himself but Damian still picked up on it.
"You seem to be one of those idiots as well, seeing as you've only waited till now to actually turn on the generator" Damian scoffed.
"Just shut up and hold them" he passed you over to Damian with little struggle, your body seems to have exhausted all of it's energy crying and screaming out so it seems that your ready to head off into another nap.
Damian noticing your tiredness quickly rested your sleeping figure on his hip and shifted your head into his shoulder.
"You could've just left them in their room to sleep, I would have been their making sure they were safe while the lights are out" Damian stated with slight irritation.
"You think I'm gonna leave my baby sibling in a room with a trained assassin, not happening"
Before Damian could reply the lights quickly flickered on, immediately lighting up the dark space they stood in.
The brightness of the light making you press your face even further into his chest, effectively blocking out all the light.
The little shift bringing his attention down to your already sleeping form.
"Looks like we gotta get them back to their bed" Tim said finally taking in the tired slump that was your little body
"That's what I've been saying this whole time" Damian sneered at him
Summary: “So,” Jackie trails off sheepishly. “You, uh– You know how vampire’s need blood…?” A/N: the "jackie's a vampire 😍" fic in question
“What are you being so weird about, Jackie?” You ask finally, getting irritated by her constant glances. She looks surprised, almost as if she truly believed you wouldn’t notice. With a roll of your eyes, you lean back on the chair, setting your phone down on her desk as you give her your full attention. Jackie starts fiddling anxiously with her fingers as she glances around the room in a pathetic attempt to feign innocence.
Acting was never her strong suit, expressions always unconvincing and exaggerated; More reminiscent of a cartoon character than a real person. Despite her failure, there’s still something undeniably charming underneath it all even as Jackie’s awkward energy ends her ruse before it can even begin. While she hasn’t succeeded in fooling you she’s definitely succeeded in getting your attention.
Watching Jackie attempting to shake your attention is bizarre, to say the least. Never once have you seen her shy away from soaking up every bit of approval and attention you give her. Yet she seems almost eager for you to move on to something else which makes you grow more concerned by the second. You’re filled with a strange mixture of curiosity and unease, both vying for your attention.
“Jackie?” You prompt again, smiling invitingly at her as she finally meets your eyes.
She clears her throat awkwardly, fingers resting against her legs as she starts rolling the edge of her shorts back and forth between her fingers. “So,” Jackie trails off sheepishly. “You, uh– You know how vampires need blood…?”
You nod your head, lips twitching as you suppress your smile. You know exactly where this is heading. “Yeah.”
“Could I… Could I have some?” Jackie asks, quickly flushing with embarrassment. She watches you closely, hope evident on her face.
“Like… from me?” You ask slowly. Unlike Jackie, you were good at feigning innocence.
“Yeah. Just like a little bit,” She pleads, gesturing with her hands as she holds her thumb and index finger just barely apart. “You won't even know it was gone, promise.”
She's utterly fixated on you, staring at your neck like it holds the secrets to the universe. You hum in consideration, enjoying the way Jackie squirms in desperation as you pretend to think it over. After a moment you hold your arm out invitingly toward her and she's across the room and in your lap before you can blink, literally.
You forget just how strong and fast she's become, and sometimes you think she does too. The chair rocks dangerously on its back two legs as Jackie slides in your lap. You close your eyes in wait for the inevitable crash but Jackie's reflexes are just fast enough to plant her foot firmly, sending you crashing back forward as the chair settles. It rocks ominously for a second before stilling, Jackie quickly taking the chance to scoot up your legs.
Your hands rest loosely on her hips as you try to make sense of what just happened, just a hair too fast for your mind to fully make sense of. You can feel the thrum of your heartbeat in your fingertips as your heart races through your chest. Jackie makes an apologetic noise as she slips her arms between your back and the chair, pulling herself snugly against you.
You squeeze her hips in a gentle sign of affection as you slip your hands up the back of her shirt, wrapping your arms tightly around her bare back. If it has the side effect of pulling her shirt up, well that's no one's business but your own. You hear a snort of laughter that you'll know she'll deny later– and threaten to tell people about the incident if you don't keep it to yourself– which makes you grin as you bury your head into her neck. You breathe in the familiar scent of her perfume, slowly relaxing back against the chair as it calms your racing heart.
You bite lightly at her neck, barely grazing the skin before you hear a petulant noise coming from Jackie. “That's my job,” She complains, slapping at your shoulder as she leans back and pulls her neck out of reach.
“Oh? Is it?” You tease, a smile splitting your face as you watch her.
She nods eagerly, just a hint of her fangs peeking out of her smile. Your eyes narrow at the sight, leaning forward to get a closer look. She practically preens as she widens her smile, clearly appreciating your admiration of her fangs.
You reach up to cup her jaw and Jackie immediately nuzzles her face into your palm as she closes her eyes with a contented noise. You roll your eyes fondly as you end up supporting the weight of her head, adjusting your grip to press your thumb against her lips.
Jackie just barely peeks her eyes open as she presses a kiss against your thumb, the beginning of a question forming on her face. You press your thumb against one of her sharp fangs, sighing quietly as it pierces the skin and draws a drop of blood. You watch her expression closely as her tongue flicks out to taste the blood, teasing at the edge of the cut as she lazily draws the remaining drops in her mouth.
You shudder involuntarily as she swallows, the intimacy of the action catching you off guard. You’re not sure that you’ll ever get used to the sight of her drinking your blood. "Tastes good," Jackie finally says, licking her lips as she pulls away.
Jackie’s gaze flits down to your neck, her eyes filled with longing. She leans forward and inhales deeply as she buries her face into the crook of your neck. Her hand cups the other side as she tilts your head, her warm breath caressing your ear. “Please?” She whispers, voice a soft plea tinged with her desperation.
Jackie's lips just barely graze your skin, sending shivers down your spine as you feel the gentle pressure from the tips of her fangs. “Go ahead, Jackie,” You say, hissing in surprise as she doesn’t hesitate to sink her teeth in. She presses herself impossibly closer to you with a muffled moan, her fingers clenched tightly at your shirt as she greedily sucks at the wound. You thread your fingers loosely through her hair, cradling her head as you relax limply against the chair.
“Fuck,” You murmur slowly, tilting your head back enticingly as Jackie makes use of the available space. With each drop of blood she takes from you a heady mix of exhilaration and vulnerability washes over you, both intoxicating and unnerving at the same time. It’s a strange intimacy, a connection borne in the exchange of life; the knowledge that your blood is what sustains her, what gives her the strength she wields over you.
It should make you feel weak to be entirely at her mercy, but you’ve never felt stronger than you do when Jackie drinks from you. You revel in her desire for you, eagerly embracing the weight of her unending hunger.
You'd majorly psyched yourself out the first time she'd asked this of you, thoughts of her teeth digging into your flesh had left you such a nervous wreck that your hands were visibly shaking as she descended on you. You were pleasantly surprised at just how good it felt once you got past the initial bite. There was barely a difference from Jackie's more possessive moments, intent to mark you up at the slightest sign of interest from someone else. You were sure that it could hurt if she wanted it to, but your girlfriend was steadfastly gentle in everything she did. With her arms wrapped around you, even the act of feeding became an intimate exchange, another bond that only the two of you would ever share.
You take a shaky breath as Jackie drinks her fill, trying your best to ignore her breathy noises of enjoyment in favor of keeping your eyes open. You get more lightheaded the longer she's attached herself to you, her lack of the need for air never more apparent than in these moments. She pulls away as you begin to slump back in the chair, soothing the bite with her tongue as she savors every last drop. You blink wearily up at her, faced with the impossible task of keeping your eyes open.
Jackie stands up happily, watching herself in the mirror over your shoulder as she licks at her thumb and rubs the stray blood off her face. A quiet laugh escapes your lip, more of an exhale than a sound. “Messy,” You murmur with a weak smile on your face.
“Shut up,” Jackie defends, pulling on your hand as she tries to coax you to your feet. You let her pull you up, but quickly slump into her arms as your shaky legs betray you. Jackie grunts as she catches you, grunting dramatically in exertion even as she effortlessly guides you back to her bed.
She climbs up excitedly to straddle your lap as you recline back against the pillows. You make a surprised noise as she leans down and kisses you, pulling back after a moment when she realizes you aren’t reciprocating. “Y/N,” Jackie whines, pouting down at you.
You lazily shake your head, not bothering to open your eyes. “Too much,” You accuse weakly.
“Did not,” Jackie protests. “You’re fine. Look!” She lifts your hand pointedly, staring in dismay as it falls limply back to the bed.
“Oh,” She murmurs sheepishly. “That's… That’s my bad, really.”
You make a vaguely amused noise in response that turns into a contented sigh as Jackie settles down on top of you. She buries her head in your neck, placing a tender kiss against the bite mark she’s left as she maneuvers your arms around to wrap around her.
The X-files x Yellowjackets - AU no one saw coming. A CC art-request of Lottie and Nat as Mulder and Scully 👽
Yandere batfam x coquette!Twin x grunge!Reader Prt.3
Prt.1 Prt 2.
You left quietly, without a dramatic goodbye or a final confrontation. One day, your room was filled with your things—records stacked against the walls, black hoodies tossed over chairs, your signature leather jacket slung over the bedpost. The next, it was empty. A single note remained on your desk: I won’t be back. Don’t look for me.
They didn’t notice immediately.
At first, they assumed you were out—maybe brooding somewhere, maybe crashing at a friend's place. Then the days turned into weeks. Your absence became undeniable. That was when the guilt started creeping in. Not loud and demanding, but quiet, like an itch in the back of their minds that something was terribly, terribly wrong.
—————
Dick found out when he was flipping through a magazine in a waiting room. He wasn’t paying much attention until a familiar face caught his eye. There you were, draped in high-end grunge fashion, leaning effortlessly against a sleek motorcycle. The headline read: The New Face of Rebellion - Gotham’s Own Moonlight Icon.
His stomach twisted. When was the last time he had spoken to you properly? Not just a passing "hey" or a nod, but a real conversation? He couldn’t remember. And yet, there you were, thriving, adored by the world in a way he never imagined. He felt like a stranger looking in, realizing too late that he had been absent from your life far longer than he wanted to admit. Guilt gnawed at him, heavier than any fight he had ever been in. You had once looked up to him, hadn’t you? And he had let you down.
—————
Jason saw it on a billboard. He had been driving through the city when your face appeared, a towering display of grunge aesthetic with an unbothered smirk on your lips. You looked powerful. Untouchable.
He pulled over, staring up at the massive ad. The realization was bitter. He had never thought twice about how much he had ignored you—never cared enough to check in. And now, the whole world saw you for what he had failed to acknowledge: important. Brilliant. More than just a shadow to someone else's light.
Regret burned in his chest. He had always prided himself on being the one who understood outcasts, the one who fought for the forgotten. And yet, he had let you slip through his fingers like you were nothing.
—————
Tim read about you through a business report. One of Gotham’s biggest fashion labels had signed a major contract with you, and their stock had skyrocketed overnight. He rubbed his temples, feeling a strange mixture of pride and guilt. How had he missed this? How had he let you slip away without noticing your potential?
He had spent countless nights obsessing over data, statistics, the rise and fall of Gotham’s industries—yet he hadn’t noticed the rise of someone who had been right under his nose. He should have known. He should have cared more. Tim had always believed he was perceptive, yet when it came to you, he had been blind. The realization stung, more than he cared to admit.
—————
Damian saw it on social media. Talia had sent him a message with a simple link.
"You always underestimated her."
He clicked it, and there you were, featured in an article praising your rise as a grunge icon. He clenched his jaw. He had spent so much time dismissing you, treating you as a nuisance. And now? The world adored you in a way he never had. The way he should have.
For the first time in a long time, he questioned if maybe, just maybe, he had been the lesser one all along. Damian had always thought himself superior, yet you had thrived without him, without any of them. That truth was unbearable.
—————
Stephanie saw you on TV. An interview clip played as she scrolled through channels.
"So tell us," the interviewer said, "how does it feel to be the face of an entire fashion movement?"
You smirked. "Feels like everyone finally caught up."
Stephanie swallowed hard. When was the last time she had even spoken to you? She had been so caught up in her own struggles, her own battles, that she hadn’t even noticed you slipping away. And now? You didn’t just leave. You had become something bigger than any of them.
She had always thought you were cool, but she never really told you. Never made the effort to let you know how much she admired you. And now it was too late. You didn’t need her validation. You never had.
—————
Cassandra had known before the others. She saw your face in magazines, watched clips of your runway walks, and knew exactly how much you had grown into yourself. But she never said anything to the others. Maybe because she knew they needed to realize it on their own.
She had always watched, always understood in a way the others didn’t. And maybe, deep down, she had felt it coming long before you ever packed your bags. She had seen your unhappiness, the way you had been overlooked. And while she had wanted to say something, to reach out—she hadn’t. That guilt sat heavy in her chest.
—————
Barbara was the last to know. She had been too busy. That was her excuse. But when she finally looked you up, saw the sheer scale of your success, she had to sit down. How had she missed it? How had she let you go unnoticed for so long?
She scrolled through article after article, watching interviews and clips, piecing together the years she had ignored. And with each one, the weight in her chest grew heavier. She had once been the one who noticed things first, who caught details others missed. And yet, when it came to you, she had been just as blind as the rest.
—————
Now, you weren’t just a grunge icon. You were best friends with Gigi Hadid, Zendaya, Sabrina Carpenter, and Billie Eilish. You were invited to the biggest talk shows, sitting beside Hollywood elites as if you had always belonged there. The industry adored you. The world watched you.
Your outfits? Always a statement. Leather corsets paired with ripped jeans and chains, oversized band tees tucked into lace skirts, fishnet stockings under combat boots, dark smokey eyeshadow and glossy black nails. You were effortlessly magnetic, the kind of woman who turned heads and owned every room she walked into.
And then there was C/N, your biggest fan. Their room was filled with posters of you—every magazine cover, every candid photo they could find. They admired you openly, idolized your effortless style, your sharp attitude, the way you never let anyone walk over you.
"She’s the coolest person alive," C/N would say to anyone who listened. They didn’t just love you; they adored you. And the Batfamily? They were just distant spectators to the life you built without them.
One by one, they all realized the same thing: they had overlooked you. Dismissed you. Failed you.
And now, you didn’t need them anymore.
okay, but... jackie taylor with reader! princess treatment? reader just loves sitting on her lap while wearing a cute short skirt and pretty ass, having jackie's arms around her, giving her a kiss with lip gloss when she wins a game, looking at her with big eyes and a cute pout ... just princess treatment?
i really love your work!
god….jackie taylor princess treatment, save me!! save me jackie taylor princess treatment!!
jackie taylor lives to spoil you.
she’s got an arm slung around your waist at all times, fingers resting just beneath the hem of your shirt to have a feel of your skin. she never lets you walk on the outside of the sidewalk, she opens doors for you without a second thought, and if you so much as shiver, she's already draping her varsity jacket over your shoulders, murmuring, “can't have my girl getting cold, can i?”
it’s fair to say that she is obsessed with you. and jackie doesn't even try to hide it.
it’s obvious to everyone around in the way she pulls you into her lap the second you're close enough, her arms wrapping around your waist like she owns you. she doesn't care where you are (on the bleachers after practice, at a party, even in the middle of the cafeteria if there's space) you're sitting on her, not next to her.
“you're so clingy,” you tease one afternoon, even as you settle comfortably against her, your skirt riding up just a little when you shift in her lap.
jackie’s hands squeeze your hips. “and?”
“nothing,” you say. “i like it!”
if she's not actively pulling you into her lap, she's tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear, playing with your fingers, kissing your temple just because she can. jackie even carries your bag after school, waits for you after class, and lets you steal her clothes even though she knows you only wear them so people will see.
and after a big game? there is no stopping her: even sweaty, breathless, and radiating victory, all jackie wants is you.
the second she sees you waiting for her near the sidelines, she beams, racing right over, gripping your waist, pulling you in.
jackie barely has time to catch her breath before you cup her face, press a sticky-sweet, glossy kiss to her lips, and pull back just enough to admire your work. a perfect pink layer left behind, her lips glittering with it.
"you taste like strawberries," she murmurs, pressing another kiss to the corner of your mouth.
you flush, curling further into her as the other yellowjackets begin to catch up. jackie just grins, keeping you right where you belong: wrapped up in her arms, pressed against her like she never wants to let go. (which, truthfully, she doesn’t…)
— nsfw below the cut. mdni.
okay but now i‘m thinking…jackie finger fucking you in her lap…? because, if you think about it, that also counts as princess treatment, right…?
maybe you’ve convinced her to let you do her make up or something:
at first, you’re confused as to why she would agree to this at all: jackie is definitely better at doing makeup than you, and hates when somebody messes with her face like that.
it only really dawns upon you when you’re already sitting on her lap: here you are, in the shortest little skirt, looking all cute and focused, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you reach for a brush.
no wonder jackie actually wanted this.
no wonder she’s got no sense of self control now.
her hands drift to your thighs, fingertips teasing along the hem of your skirt. just barely at first, featherlight touches that make you squirm but don't fully distract you as you reach for a brush.
but she doesn't stop there. she squeezes your thighs, her fingers pressing into soft flesh as she watches you try to ignore her.
“jackie,” you warn, not yet looking down.
jackie hums, all innocent. “hmm?”
“you’re distracting me,” you murmur, dipping the brush into the powder, trying to refocus. but, god, it’s hard when she trails her fingers up until she’s squeezing your ass.
“am i?”
you turn her chin slightly to apply the blush. “yes”
jackie, completely unbothered, presses a lingering kiss to your wrist, then the inside of it, then your palm. before you can react, she’s already leaning up, catching your lips in a kiss as well.
you sigh against her mouth, your hands sliding into her hair as the brush clatters to the floor.
as easy as that, and all your resolve is gone, replaced by arousal when jackie reaches between your legs. when she catches your eyes, tilts her head, and waits for the breathless nod before pushing your panties to the side, moaning as if she could feel actual pleasure from the way her fingers slide through your wetness.
it’s not long after that, that you find yourself propped up above jackie, most of your weight resting on your knees, one hand on the headboard, as she pounds her fingers into you. you don’t even have to do anything at all, she’s doing the work for you, wetness gushing down her arm.
“just like that,” jackie praises as the hem of your skirt bounces with each thrust. her free hand lingers on your lower back, supporting you in your current position and her face is covered in your lipgloss, chin and jaw glistening with it over a thin layer of sweat.
“come on,” she encourages, leaning back on her elbows to get a better look at you, her fingers stilling inside of your throbbing cunt.
it is up to you to take pleasure from her now.
later, you will be embarrassed by how fast you switch to riding her fingers…
dating jackie taylor! jackie taylor x female reader
she's a very clingy girlfriend, always on your side, with her arm intertwined with yours, hand touching your knee, shoe touching your leg under the table... she lives for the reactions you give her.
letting her put makeup on you. If you're already into makeup and use it regularly, she'll try new looks on you and always waits for your approval with an eyebrow raised.
if you don't wear makeup at all, she'll beg to try it on you until you let her. she rewards you with kisses after, don't worry. oh! but she has to take a photo before taking it off!
buying her a sweet treat she's craving, and she'll literally think about marrying you right there right now.
you have to study together in the library because if you study in each other's houses you always end up making out and getting distracted.
jackie leaving you cute, adorable notes on your notebook and locker, thinking about your reaction to them.
your parents loving her, she's so polite and respectful, to them she's the sweetest, kindest girl. not that she isn't- she is, but she's a little freak sometimes.
making you go to parties with her sometimes, just to get drunk and spend the night on your arms and lap. having to drive her to your house and putting a hand on her mouth to not wake up your parents.
waking up not knowing where she is, but as long as she feels you or smells you there, she knows she's okay.
watching her try on dresses, and she needs to you to be paying attention. otherwise, she trows a pillow at your face.
" which one do I look better with ? the white one or the purple one ? " she asks putting the two dresses in front of her body.
" baby you look good with anything" you say and she sighs and puts the dresses down.
" I love you for that but I really need an answer- which one ? " she asks again with her arms crossed.
" hmmm... purple " you say and she smiles, grabbing the purple dress.
" wait- I think I'll wear the white one. it's better."
watching her soccer games and being her number one supporter! wearing her number on your shirt and hugging her when they win.
when they lose, you're always there for her, even tho she's pretty confident and mature person, you know she gets sad even if she doesn't let it show that much.
cuddling her in her bed while showering her with kisses and teeling her about your day to distract her.
this goes the same when it comes to jealousy, she knows you love her, but sometimes she doesn't know how not show it affecter her, watching some girl talk with you all giddy and touching your arm and complimenting you- she feels angry but she feels angrier that it affects her.
reassuring her you love her and that interaction wasn't important to you, while showing her it's okay to feel like this sometimes, she's human. and teeling her you also feel that way when she's around Jeff of his friends.
which she shakes her head - " I would never in my life cheat on you with Jeff - with those boys - with anyone ! "
she loves flowers, is always buying flowers for you, it doesn't matter the occasion.
she has an album full of photos of you together/ letters you've sent each other/ silly things that reminds her of you.
makes a playlist of songs she thinks are the songs of your relationship, and she's so cute - always daydreams about you when it's on.