Danny no longer has a haunt. So… he decides to find another one. And while he technically has a whole world (other dimensions aren’t an option because he’s going to stay near where Jazz’s grave is, damn it) there’s only a couple of other places with enough ambient ectoplasm to sustain him. Nanda Parbat, Tokyo, and Gotham.
Nanda Parbat had a weird old musty immortal that kept trying to summon him and exchange power for the ability to “take a worthy body and rain as much destruction” as he’d like. As if Danny would need a body to bring the world to its knees.
Tokyo… it’s too far from Jazz’s grave. He could ask Wulf or even open his own portal but when Danny tried it out, Tokyo was too peaceful. Obviously there’s crime, but nothing… nothing big like Danny’s used to.
Danny ends up picking Gotham, even if the sewer zombies and the weird group of rich fruit loops with an adoption problem creeps him out. So, he destroys the portal, packs up his parents’ house and sells it, and hauls ass to the cesspool calling his name. His family’s stuff is stored respectfully in a vault located on the deepest parts of his personal haunt in the Infinite Realms.
And honestly, he’s doing better. Sure, he’s got a shitty apartment near another revenant’s almost-haunt and he feels like he’s drowning all of the time, but Danny isn’t in danger of turning into Dan, he’s catching up on royal paperwork, and he’s got like a job as a barista. In his own coffee shop that paid for using his parent’s money (who, despite their hazardous everything, made a crap ton of money off of their more normal inventions).
Gotham’s got some pretty interesting local gangs, most of which respected the sanctity of Danny’s cafe. Sure, they tried blowing it up and tried extorting money from him in the form of “protection costs” but after three months of failure, they gave up.
(Really, the local gangs gave up when they saw him take three shotgun shells to the chest and continued to work.) (They didn’t know it never hit him. Intangibility is extremely useful.)
The Rogues, on the other hand, just gave Danny flashbacks. Their gimmicks are different, sure, but after years of Box Ghost, Skuller, Lunch Lady, etc., Danny’s more than done with costumed villains. They don’t bother him either. Some of the reason is probably due to Harley and Ivy, who had walked into the cafe and (because they were bruised and scratched up from a fight) triggered Danny’s mother hen tendencies. They were promptly fed and watered and caffeinated and their hyenas were also similarly taken care of. They declared the cafe under their protection and that was that.
Red Hood stops by, and begins to interrogate him. But when Danny met his… helmet eyes? The crime lord paused, paid for his coffee, and sat in a corner table of the cafe for the rest of the day.
And he kept coming back?
But Danny figures it’s because Hood was a revenant and people who had come close to death tends to feel more comfortable around him.
(Considering this is Gotham where people almost die every other day? Yeah, he’s pretty much friends with everyone. Or at least, less likely to get shot.)
(Hood does stay because of the King’s presence and the Pit calming itself, but also Danny’s hot and he’s got a sleeper build and Hood definitely did not imagine himself in the place of the heavy box he saw Danny lift effortlessly onto a table. No.)
But of course, the peace couldn’t last forever. But by then, Danny was so antsy, he welcomed the trouble with open arms.
It starts with a clown. Danny knows who he is. He knows who Danny is.
So, Danny has no idea why the clown thought it would be a good idea to aggravate the owner of Gotham’s official neutral grounds. See, Clovkwork? Danny’s learned how to gauge his own political importance!
“HAHAHAHAHA! COME OUT, DANNY-BOY! LET ME TELL YOU A JOKE!”
Danny comes out and grabs a chair, and with a flat expression, says, “you’re not funny and I hate clowns.”
And then he swings and slams the chair into the Joker’s face. Over and over again until Danny’s sure the clown won’t get back up. The thing about Gotham’s outdoor chairs is that they’re mad out of steel and are bolted down to the ground to prevent undedicated thieves (dedicated thieves can and will steal the bolted down steel chairs). The Joker’s hired muscle just watched this scrawny twenty-something year old yank the steel chair and take some of the fucking ground and the bolts with it and beat the fuck out of their boss who is the literal Joker.
They surrender on the spot and is taken to jail. Danny just smiles at the officers who come by and since he’s got pretty privilege and they don’t want to mess with the guy who, again, owns one of Gotham’s official neutral ground and also beat up Joker without breaking a sweat, the officers just lets him go with a warning.
And then the bats comes, and wow, Danny’s playing mentor to a formally dead person again!
But before that, the Red Hood asks for an autograph on the Gotham Gazette article with a picture of a tired Danny standing over Joker’s prone body. Then Hood stammers through asking Danny out (which Danny said yes to because he’s tired, not blind, and Hood is built like a brick house and HOT).
Batman interrogates him. Danny, who can tell that this man needs therapy and is Sad TM, tells Bats that Danny’s died before and that’s why he’s like this. He also calls Batman a furry, but like in a nice way. And then he kicks Batman out with a coffee and a file on Nanda Parbat.
Now, Danny’s got a date to prepare for and he realizes that maybe this is what Jazz wanted for him- to be happy and mostly safe and happy. (Or, happier, he thinks. It’s been a long time since he’s been truly happy, but this might be a good start)
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"No, none of that baby. Let me see that pretty pussy of mine."
in which you catch Jason mingling with a girl you think is prettier at a gala, and he reminds you who he belongs to with his face between your thighs...
The night is young and alive. In the four walls of bruce's charity gala, there was expensive champagne, rich people music and gorgeous women.
You were advised, no instructed to come with Jason to his father's galas for a while now. The scene was nothing new.
Bruce would throw millions at a gala for a bunch of rich people 4 times a year to keep himself in their good graces. You would stand in the corner and watch people pretend to like each other with wide smiles and chaste hugs.
Secretly, you hated these events. Well, Jason knew you would rather stay home, but he thought it was because you just find them boring.
He could't be more wrong.
As you claimed your usual spot with your back to the wall in a corner, you watched the skinny, blond-haired girls in their tastefully fitted dresses garner the spotlight of the event. The way they batted their blue eyes up at a mesmerized man was the 8th wonder of the world. They were so effortless in their seduction, so enamouring in their figure.
So stunning.
It wasn't that you weren't pretty, no, it was that you were sorely out of place.
And Jason had no Idea.
How could he, when he stood at six foot something, broad shoulders and a physique to die for. Lush green eyes and prominent yet soft features.
And Gods above, his smile.
Any girl would have won the lottery if she saw his genuine smile.
It was no secret that you didn't match him, not at all.
It is in these moments that you begin to question your relationship. If these are the kinds of women he is surrounded with, why the fuck was he with you?
You scoffed and took a swig of your Champagne as you watched yet another girl wave to him.
Presently, he was doing his job, talking with investors and other important people in Gotham.
He was talking to some high up CEO when a gorgeous girl bumped into his side. He turned around to meet her embarrassed gaze.
Though you were out of earshot, you could make out her flustered apologies and Jason's attempts at reassurance. Out of courtesy, he asked for her name or other surface info and the two seemed to get to talking. She was blabbering on about who she was and what she does for a living and she made a joke. And Jason Laughed.
He laughed. Fully and genuinely. He laughed.
Then so did she, sparkling blue eyes looking up at him once again as they laughed over something you couldn't find funny. You would never find this funny.
Soon enough, the lights dimmed and Bruce called the attention of the crowd to welcome them and thank them for their attendance. His list of thanks and acknowledgements went on as normal.
"...And I'm so glad my son Jason found a friend at these so-called 'boring' events he hates going to." Bruce joked.
The crowd laughed.
But so did Jason.
You took this as your opportunity to leave, slamming your champagne flute down on a nearby table and making a swift exit.
Hot tears threatened to burn rivers down your face as your legs carried you out of the venue as quickly as they could. You found an elevator, and decided to take it up to Jason's bedroom.
Once on the correct floor, the floodgates opened and you began to sob.
You flung open the door to his bedroom and slammed it shut. You took off your expensive heels and pelted them across the tidy room. Everything reminded you of him; the portraits on the wall, his diplomas, old weapons, even the faint scent of him.
This was something you could no longer take. You were so tired of feeling inadequate, silently counting down the days until he found someone better than you. In your mind, that day had come and though it had been in the back of you mind for as long as you were with him, you were damn unprepared.
You undid the zipper on your dress and flung it off your body. Jason picked out this dress for you when he mentioned that he wanted you to come to this last gala with him. You painfully recall how happy and excited you were to be able to wear a dress in his colour that he picked out for you.
How foolish.
Your sobs grew stronger as you began to think that your relationship should have never happened, seeing that he would have found someone prettier, skinnier, funnier smarter-
Knock
Knock
Knock
"Y/N?"
Jason was at the door to his room. Growing bored with the festivities below, he wanted to find you and go back to your place. When he couldn't find you in the crowd, he went up to his room to check something. It was then that he heard your heavy sobs coming from behind his door and panic filled his system.
You stopped crying immediately and moved to dry your tears that have surely ruined your makeup by now.
"Yeah baby. J-just give me a second." you blurted in an unconvincing tone.
He couldn't know how distraught you were about something so trivial. It wasn't his fault that he was so hot, and it wasn't yours that you thought you weren't. There was nobody to blame for your insecurities, and you didn't need him to know how terrible you felt because of your own self-inflicted wounds.
"Can I come in?" He pried gently.
You appreciated his courtesy of asking if he could enter his own room. You scrambled to find a shirt of his to cover yourself with. There was no need for the added anxiety of what you thought you looked like right now. Your heels still splayed across the room and dress slumped against his armchair.
"Sure." you let out with a defeated sigh.
The audible twist and click of the doorknob filled the quiet space. Jason's brow was pinched with worry as the door swung open to reveal you, sitting on his bed in his shirt, in pretty bad shape.
He closed the door and locked it behind him, something you appreciated, and took off his jacket. He made his way to the edge of the bed and sat on the mattress with his back to the edge, facing you.
His soft gaze took in your state, and his shoulders slumped because he didn't like what he saw. He hated seeing you sad, it broke his heart into a million little pieces.
Jason reached out his hand for you to take, but you curled in on yourself and inched further away from him. You were still overwhelmed with your thoughts of his hands all over someone elses' body.
You wanted to vomit.
"Can you look at me, Y/N?" Jason asks cautiously. He doesn't know what you're thinking, and the last thing he wants to do is scare you.
The tears came back and you struggled to keep them at bay.
"C-Can't" your strained voice came through gritted teeth.
"Oh come here pretty girl" he cooed.
You resolve was gone and you moved to throw yourself in his arms.
Jason's strong arms came to wrap around your back, one hand on the back of your head and the other around your abdomen.
Your hands grabbed at his ironed dress shirt. Usually you were courteous, but now you were too hurt to care. Makeup, snot, tears and other fluids rubbed into his clothes as you broke down in his arms.
You were grateful he didn't say anything about his ruined shirt as his hand rubbed up and down your back.
Jason's mind was racing, searching all corners of his brain to figure out what would make you this upset so quickly.
Your sobs began to slow but your breathing remained erratic. There was too much and not enough air at the same time. Jason stepped in quickly to make sure you didn't pass out.
"Hey hey hey slow down baby girl. Follow my breaths alright? In. Out. Keep going sugar. In. Out. Atta girl"
As you breathed with him, you felt calmer, but the guilt of him having to deal with your outburst began to gnaw at you.
You lifted your head from his shoulder and broke out of his embrace. He studies your state, which was much better now, but stayed quiet.
"I-I'm sorr-"
"Absolutely not." Jason sharply interrupted your attempt to apologize
"There is nothing for you to be sorry for sweetheart."
You could tell he was searching your face for any kind of acknowledgement, but you couldn't look at him.
"Look at me baby. Please?" he whispers as his hands roam up your neck to cup your cheeks.
You shook your head no.
Jason tries again, pressing his forehead to yours, looking at your tightly closed eyes.
"You're breaking my heart pretty girl. Please? For me?" he whispers so softly.
Deciding to obey, you look up at him. A single tear escapes your eye as you stare into his worried green ones.
"None of that anymore sugar" he reassures as his thumb wipes away the tear.
You nod in agreement.
Jason and you stay close with your forheads on each others for a while, basking in the intimacy of it all.
He breaks the silence.
"Talk to me love. What happened hm?" he asks, his breath dancing on your lips.
You take a deep breath
"What got my girl so upset?"
Truthfully, you had no idea how to start. How to tell him you've been feeling like a horrible girlfriend since you've been having darker thoughts about your appearance. How can you tell Jason, whose only fault was loving you, that you feel inadequate in his presence. That you feel that it is only a matter of time until he finds someone prettier, skinnier, smarter-
"Baby?"
His inquiry pulls you out of your head.
"It's stupid." You respond in a small voice.
"No. Not if it made you feel this way."
You drop your head again in shame. You don't deserve this kindness after you just questioned his intentions with you.
"But it has nothing to do with you" you mumble.
"It has everything to do with me because I love you. And I cant stand to see you so hurt over something I don't know about or help you with." He countered.
"But-" your voice begins to shake once more
He sneaks his index finger underneath your chin and lifts, giving you no choice but to look at him.
"But nothing." he shuts you down simply.
Jason kisses your forehead, then your cheeks, then your nose, making you giggle.
"There's my girl" he mumbles to no one in particular.
His face lines up with yours once again. This time, it is you who moves closer to capture his lips in yours. It was a soft and passionate kiss, a silent thanks for his patience with you.
Jason broke the kiss before you could and smoothed a braid from out of your face.
"Can you tell me why you're upset? You don't have to if you don't want-"
"I want to." You interrupted him.
After a long period of explaining your feelings with a few more stray tears, you both came to an understanding of how the situation came to be. Jason told you how much he loves you, and that nobody with a smaller figure or more socially "beautiful" than you could take him away from you. You were his girl; his to love, his to smile at, his to laugh with, his to touch, his to feel, his to caress-
His lips were now on yours. He kissed you with a fever of determination, a thousand feelings infused into the union of your lips.
His hands began to roam your body. Up your back and down to your hips. You know he loves seeing you in his clothes.
As the kiss deepens and both of your hands are all over eachother. Your hand roams down his front to find his bulge. He stops you abruptly, and you raise you head to look at him questioningly.
"Are you sure?" Jason whispers.
You chuckle at the question.
"Yes, of course" you answer incredulously.
At that, your hand made its way down again and was stopped once more.
"I want tonight to be about you, princess. Let me prove how much I love you."
You shot him a questioning look.
He smirked.
You have no idea what's coming He thought.
With his hands on your waist, he gently pushed you down onto the bed. He hiked up your (his) shirt to reveal your pretty tits.
Jason pressed open mouthed kisses on your neck, shoulders and chest. A hand came up to massage your breast and play with your nipple. His actions earned a moan from you, which only spurred him on in his antics.
"So beautiful" he murmured into your skin.
He continued down your body, only stopping to catch a glimpse of your head thrown back in painful anticipation.
Once he made his way down to your underwear he kneaded the flesh of your thighs and pressed kisses on the inside of each one.
"Gorgeous" he breathed between kisses
"Can I take these off?" He asks
You nod your head yes, but this is not sufficient for him.
"Need words pretty girl" Jason presses.
You let out a breathy yes and he begins to pull down your panties.
They were his favourite colour, Red.
"No other girl could wear my colour and be a sexy as you are. Understand?"
"Yes" you moan as his hands are at your feet, tossing your panties and rubbing your ankles.
At the cool breeze in the air, you snap your thighs together, unfamiliar with the change in temperature on your heat.
"No, none of that baby. Let me see that pretty pussy of mine."
You swear you could have cum at that statement alone.
Jason takes matters into his own hands as he gently and slowly pries your legs open, while maintaining eye contact to make sure you're still okay with what's going on.
Before he makes his descent, he lifts you slightly to move you further up the bed. A swift hand pulls a pillow and places it under your hips.
Clearly, he meant business.
Before your nerves had a chance to ruin the moment, Jason cuts the tension by turning to your inner thighs, leaving little bites and dark marks.
Without warning, he dives right in, relieving your sopping cunt of its misery.
The flat of his tongue drags up your soaking pussy, eliciting a surprised moan from you.
He continues with his affirmations.
"Nobody's pussy is a perfect as this one right here, yeah?"
You moan out at the praise.
"Need words baby or I'll stop"
"Y-Yes Jason!" you gasp as your hands desperately grip his sheets for relief. His tongue dancing with the devil on your soaked folds.
Briefly, he rises from between your legs and a scene of his saliva and your essence coats his lips and chin. His lips, now puffy, curl into a smirk.
"Now repeat after me. You make a mistake and I'll stop. Understood?" he continued.
"Fuck- Yes, I understand"
"There's my good girl" He affirms.
He goes back down with fervor this time. Jason's tongue wasted no time before lapping up what ended up on your thighs and circling your clit.
He begins. "There is no girl more perfect for Jason than me"
God he's good.
"T-There is- shit no girl- oh" You start, interrupted by his lips sucking on your clit.
"M-More perfect- ugh for J-Jason than me" You finish, proud that you were able to complete your first sentence.
Your success earned a proud "atta girl" from Jason as he continued his mission on your folds.
"There is no woman on this planet prettier than me" He started again, before his tongue resumed his actions.
This one was a challenge. Between his tongue and the suction of his lips, your orgasm was approaching quickly.
"There i-is no shit woman- fuck Jason I'm gonna-" you spit our frantically.
"Not yet. Finish the sentence first. You're almost there." He says as he raises his head from between your legs.
You let out a desperate whine at the sudden lack of stimulation and pushed your hips up against nothing. A strong forearm came to stop you, which your desperate state didn't appreciate.
You are left no choice but to continue.
"on this planted p-prettier than me." You finish.
Before you could beg, he was already there, hot breath ghosting over your need.
"Last one pretty girl. You can do it." Jason whispers. He moves his unused hand to interlock with one of yours that was previously gripping the bedding for dear life.
"Ready?" He asks
You nod weakly, followed by a whiny yes, knowing that only words will get you what you want.
"I am the only woman Jason has ever loved" He speaks over your heat.
You swore you came instantly.
Jason's heavenly mouth got to work again, leaving you a panting, mewling mess on his dark sheets. You were sure there was a puddle where his mouth met your cunt, and lewd, wet sounds filled the room.
Desperately needing your release, there was only one way to get it.
"I am t-the only fuck-" You were stopped by a particularly intense suck on your clit.
Jason's hand squeezed yours in encouragement. A silent "you can do this sugar" was mumbled over your pussy.
"Woman Jason ha-has ever- Ohh I'm so close Jay pleasepleaseplease". Your attempted recitation died with a desperate babble of his name.
His hand squeezed yours tightly, encouraging you once again to continue.
The tight coil in your tummy grew stronger and harder to ignore as Jason picked up the pace between your legs. It was as if he was a starving man, craving only one thing and finally receiving it.
"L-LOVED" You screamed as your release washed over you. Your eyes rolled and your back arched at the sudden sensation. Every nerve in your body was lit ablaze, burning so sweetly as he continued to lap at you through your high.
Nothing but, white-hot bliss filled each of your senses. You were so lost in your own pleasure, it almost hurt to come back down to earth.
When you opened your eyes again, you were met with a panting and disheveled Jason, juices all over his chin, and sweat down his brow. His collared dress shirt was unbuttoned and sinfully wrinkled. You couldn't help but marvel at his beauty in such an unkempt state.
Slowly, he began to remove the pillow from under you and pull your shirt down over your body. You hissed at the fabric dragging across your still-sensitive nipples, for which he apologized with a kiss on your nose.
Aligning his face with yours, he looked deep into your eyes and used his free hand to thumb away the tears of overstimulation on your cheeks.
"Don't you ever feel like you're not worthy of me again without telling me okay?" he remarks as he gives you a small, kind smile.
You nod, and he doesn't press you about it this time.
"I'll repeat this as many times as I need to sunshine, no questions asked."
He continued.
"I love you."
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