#Jason Todd x You

[jasonsdoll]

jason todd x reader!

requested!

────୨ৎ────

𝓳ason noticed the subtle difference between when he was dating you—and when he wasn’t. he couldn’t care less about looking both ways before crossing the street or making sure to try to block the villain’s he fought so they wouldn’t hurt him as much. those things didn’t matter to him. he had no point. until you came into his life.

it all started when you scolded him for not looking both ways. he never saw the appeal. but you clearly did. so, he slowly—but surely—started to do your habits. looking both ways before crossing the road, making sure to drive slower on his motorcycle when it’s raining or when it’s bad outside, or even trying to block the villains’ attacks so it wouldn’t hurt him as much. he knew you hated when he came back, soaked in blood.

you started to see it too, little did he know. he would never tell you, of course, but the way he was holding onto you spoke volumes that his words couldn’t comprehend. he didn’t know what time it was—it was dark outside, but right now, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. all that mattered was the person in his arms, wrapped around him tightly. your legs were intertwined messily with his, but no one moved.

your plushies were around the bed, some behind jason—guarding him, as you would say cheekily—while others were near your feet. his hand lied on the back of your head, his other wrapped around your waist so you were cuddled against the larger man. the old jason couldn’t even think about someone like you, hugging and snuggling against his hard and scarred body. but you were.

his heart clenched with something that wasn’t love—no, it was something more. way, way more than love. not yearning, not desire, not love, not warmth, but something all in between. something that jason would never give up. your soft snores filled the quiet room and his eyes softened into something only you could see. his hand ran up and down your waist and back soothingly.

no, he could never imagine that he was with someone who treated him with such kindness, who made him want to stay safe so he could be with you longer. but he was.

he grabbed the fluffy blanket that you forced him to bring, pulling it up to cover the both of you. you nuzzled further into his neck, your delicate hands pressed against his chest filled with scars almost perfectly. yeah, he would never give this up for anything. “g’night, doll,” he whispered quietly, voice filled with something not even the poets could write and he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

[ditzydoe444]

jason todd spits on your cunt when he eats you out. especially ak!jason.

MDNI 18+

ak!jason x reader

“get over here,” jason grunted as he dragged you to the edge of the bed by your ankles. you may have bitten off more than you can chew by taunting him, begging him to eat you out. “don’t back off from me now.”

jason was rough, almost mean during sex. he wasted no time drilling into you if needed, not caring about how many times you came. he would finish when he wanted, leaving your pussy swollen and filled with his cum.

this time though, he wasn’t going to fuck you. he was going to devour your fucking pussy, and you knew that when you saw the desire in his eyes, the way his gaze never left your cunt. “already so nice and wet for me hm? been thinkin’ about this for a while?”

jason leaned in, close enough where you could feel his breath on your cunt. “gonna devour this pretty little thing,” he cooed as he dragged his thumb upwards towards your clit. his arms were hooked around your inner thighs, trapping your legs apart.

without a warning, jason spat on your cunt, his saliva dribbling down. the sudden sensation made you squirm, “need to prepare my meal,” he said lowly before licking your cunt. it wasn’t long before he started devouring your cunt, he was a messy eater. his tongue going against your sensitive folds whilst occasionally sucking on your clit. jason loved being messy, he loved how your arousal would dribble down his chin, making it glisten and how wet you would be with his saliva as well.

he ate you like a full-course meal, literally. he didn’t waste a single goddamn drop, his arms gripped your thighs tightly holding them apart, not letting you budge. you didn’t miss the way he looked up at you, a sly grin forming on his face whilst his chin glistened.

you were completely done for.

[enviedear]

you’ve always been able to hold your own—and JASON TODD notices and savors it more than he’s willing to admit. every time you push back, whether it’s during an argument about your involvement in his vigilante life or you just simply standing your ground, it truly ignites something in him.

it’s not like jason to tolerate people questioning his choices, especially when it comes to his methods as redhood. but you? you’ve got a fire in you that refuses to let him steamroll you, and it infuriates him in the best way possible. you’re relentless—challenging him when he says you shouldn’t be out in the field with him, rolling your eyes when he tells you it’s too dangerous. “i can handle myself.” you argue, voice sharp and steady—it gets under his skin in ways you can’t even possibly imagine.

there are times when he loses it, voice rough and hoarse as he bites out, “you don’t get it. god, you think you’re untouchable—it’s going to get you killed.” but instead of backing down like most people would when faced with his stature and temper, you hold your ground, eyes narrowing. “oh, whatever. i think i’m the only person who’s not afraid to tell you when you’re wrong.”

jason hates how much he likes that. he hates that when you challenge him, it feels like someone’s finally seeing him—not as a broken soldier or the angry boy who came back from the dead, but as… simply someone. someone who can be wrong. it makes him feel human in a way that surprises him.

sometimes, he can’t figure out whether he wants to pull you closer or push you further away, because the way you look at him—with that determined, unflinching gaze—makes him feel things he doesn’t know how to deal with.

the defiance you show, the way you stand up to him, keeps pulling him back to you. he tells himself he doesn’t need this kind of complication in his life, but deep down, he craves it. he wants you—the one person who doesn’t let him hide behind the walls he’s so carefully built.

[allllium]

Comfort

~ Some Sappy Jason Todd x Reader

~ Playing with Jason's Hair

~ Fluff, a little overthinking, WC: 981

- You play with Jason's Hair -

You are usually very good at understanding things about your boyfriend, Jason. It took you no time at all to find about his nightly activities and everything about his family. But on the other hand, you can't seem to understand him at all.

You've tried not to ask him about certain things because based on hints from his family, he's had some bad shit happen in his life.

However, the more questions you don't ask, the more that seem to pop up.

You haven't asked him why sometimes he flinches away when you touch him but other times he leans in.

You haven't asked him why his hands make fists when you're trying to sleep at night.

You haven't asked him about the scar along his chest or his aversion to certain foods.

All because you're too scared to make him uncomfortable, or maybe because you don't know if you could stomach it.

You're laying bed and waiting for him to come out of the bathroom. Somehow, you take less time getting ready for bed than he does. You suspect it's because he needs a couple minutes to process everything that happened during the day.

As usual you have a million thoughts running through you're head all at the same time. 99% of them are about him.

When he finally comes into your shared bedroom and gets comfortable in bed, you're debating whether or not to talk to him about some of the things you can't get out of your mind.

You decide against it. The last thing you want to do is make him uncomfortable or bring up any bad memories that might affect his ability to sleep through the night.

He can obviously sense your unease, you don't hide it very well.

"What's wrong?" His raspy voice cuts through your thoughts.

"Nothing, sweetheart." You try to play it off.

"Uh huh." He says blankly.

"I'm just thinking about things, is that a crime?"

"Depends on what they are." He pulls you closer to him and wraps his arms around you.

"Nothing bad."

"Hmm."

"What?"

"If someone's bothering you, you should tell me."

"Why is that?"

"Well I have an ability of getting rid of people."

"Oh my God Jason you can't joke about that." You look at him in amused shock.

"Who says it's a joke?" He asks, face completely serious.

"Okay no killing people on my behalf." You chuckle and he copies. "I'm just trying to figure you out more."

"Why?"

"Cuz I want to know more about you?"

"Like what"

"Right now I want to know what you want." You pull away from him in order to sit up a little bit.

"I don't want anything at the moment."

"Yes you do. If you didn't want anything your fists wouldn't be clenched and your eyes wouldn't have that look. Like you want to say something but can't."

"You really want to know?" He asks.

"Yeah I really do." You immediately reply.

"A couple months ago while we were watching a movie on the couch, you played with my hair and it was very comforting. And the best sleep I've ever had."

"That's it? I've been driving myself crazy trying to think of explanations and you're telling me you just want me to play with your hair." You question him in disbelief. It's been months of overthinking thoughts and random mind rampages for something you haven't even noticed you were doing.

"I didn't know how to say it." He shrugs, not looking into your eyes. "It sounds childish."

"No it doesn't. Everyone has different ideas of perfect comfort and I happen to agree with yours. Jason, if you want something from me all you have to do is ask."

You lean over to give him a quick, sweet kiss.

"I'm not used to that."

"Well you better get started."

"Fine, would you play with hair so I can go to sleep, Angel?"

"Only because you asked so nicely."

It takes a second for you both to get rearranged so it's comfortable. You're now laying on your back with Jason half on his side, half on top of you with his head on your chest.

It's almost amusing how quickly he falls asleep but above all else you feel a sense of pride at the fact that you're the one giving him this feeling.

He said this was comforting. He said this was the best sleep he's ever had.

And you're the reason he's having these things.

You stay up longer than you probably should have. This time the thoughts running through your head aren't worrying or overwhelming.

They make you happy. Happy enough to fall into a very sound sleep.

You wake up to coffee on your nightstand and a missing Jason.

"Jason." You call out and he quickly comes running.

When he walks in the room, you immediately begin questioning him.

"What is this?" You ask with an ounce of suspicion. You're worried it's a repayment of some sort.

"It's coffee. A hot caffeinated drink."

"Why?"

"Because you like it and it makes you irritable for far less time in the morning."

"Jason you don't have to do things for me just because I did something for you."

"Yes I do. Because words won't let me explain how grateful I am for you."

"Since when are you so sappy?"

He sits on the bed next to you.

"Don't be mean to me right now, I'll take it away."

"Fine. Continue your speech."

"I know it's a small thing for you but I haven't felt comfort like you give me in a very long time. Maybe even ever. And I need you to know that."

"I can't tell you how happy I am to give that to you."

The next thing you know, you both have giant grins on your faces and you're both happier than ever before.

[ebodebo]

—thinking about jason todd being a smug bastard... MDNI

Wayne Manor was swarmed with people. 

Once again, your parents had insisted on attending one of Bruce's charity galas, dragging you along.

You couldn't help but feel like an outsider in this world of opulence and pretense.

It was fun to dress up with thousand-dollar dresses and jewels, but, Christ, the air was thick with the scent of expensive perfumes and the sound of clinking glasses, making it stuffy even in the corner of the room where you stood.

They were nothing more than a group of pretentious assholes parading around and gloating about their wealth.

The very sight of them filled you with a profound sense of disdain for the whole event, a feeling that seemed to grow with each passing moment. 

You just thanked God Bruce always provided good booze.

"Cute dress," a deep voice sounded next to you.

You know immediately who it is.

"Was gonna wear red, but I didn't want you to get all jealous, Jason," you jest, your tone oozing with sarcasm.

"Is that right?" He smirked, handing you a glass of champagne. 

"Yeah. So I settled for blue," you shrugged, grasping the champagne.

"I think red suits you better," he hummed, sipping the alcohol. 

"I bet you do, Toddy," you chirp, eyes leering over the glass as you sip.

"You think you're so funny," he mutters, referring to the silly nickname you call him to his dismay. 

"I think I'm pretty hilarious," you smile, clearly amused with yourself.

"I can tell," he jibbed, taking another swig of the alcohol, eye peering over the rim to lock with yours.

You open your mouth to speak but are interrupted by a refined, high-pitched tone dripping with an air of superiority calling out for Jason in the dimly lit, crowded room. 

"Jay," a blonde girl quipped, making no effort to greet you, only batting her lashes at him. "I wasn't expecting you to be here."

"Well, you know..." He trails off before mustering a fake smile. "Duty calls."

She lets out a horrendous giggle that has you laughing at the sheer absurdity before her eyes lock on you.

"And...you are?" Her tone is almost revolted, adding to the tension in the air. 

Just take the high road, you think to yourself. 

"I'm a friend," you plaster a ricus smile.

She purses her lips, her eyes betraying a mix of jealousy and curiosity as they dart between you and Jason.

You'll play nice tonight, sure. 

"Don't worry. I have a date of my own," you lightly smile, internally cringing, torn between maintaining your composure and the urge to flee.

"You do?" Jason asks with utter perplexity.

No.

"Yeah," you breathe out.

His eyes squint, you gulp.

"Well...where's the lucky guy?" Blondie poses, her arms crossing over her chest, her condescension palpable in her tone. 

Your eyes quickly scan the room before you hear a familiar voice walking behind you.

"There you are!" You beam, turning around, reaching for poor Dick's wrist, and pulling him next to you. 

"Dick?" She questions, her curiosity piqued.

"Dick?" Jason questions, his tone dripping with disgust.

"Not happy to see me?" Dick teases as you casually thread your arm through his.

You don't miss the way Jason's whole body tenses. 

"How...charming," Blondie quips hesitantly before she threads her arm through Jason's.

Jason doesn't miss how your whole body tenses, issuing a smug smirk at your bewilderment. 

Oh? He wanted to play dirty.

Well, two can play that game. 

"Isn't he just a charmer?" You chirp, your tone laced with unnoticed faulty admiration. "Dick's just so sweet. He just...swept me off my feet," you say, fighting back a cringe, but the sight of Blondie's scowl and Jason's stiff posture makes it all worth it. 

Dick shifts his eyes down to yours; you give him a quick wink, and he nods lightly, pulling you closer to his side.

He would do just about anything to get under Jason's skin. 

"She flatters me," Dick beams. "She's the real charmer."

You smile brightly, your eyes moving between Blondie's perplexed eyes and Jason's narrowed ones.

"Didn't think you two talked," Jason grumbled, his tone simultaneously skeptical and sour, his eyes never leaving Dick's face. 

"Yeah, I can't believe we haven't talked sooner." You smiled, your gaze shifting from Dick's bright eyes to Jason, noticing his knuckles turning white around his champagne glass. 

Got him.

"I can't believe I let you keep her to yourself, Jason. She's a great conversationalist," Dick chimes with a slight smirk at Jason's irritation.

Oh. Dick is having way too much fun. 

"I'm aware," Jason continently says, taking a sip of his alcohol. 

"Even better baker—what is it you made me the other day?" Dick questions, turning slightly to face you. 

Your eyes widen in surprise at his improvisation skills, your brain slightly scrambling before you find the words. 

Hell, if the whole superhero thing didn't work out, he could make a killing as an actor.

"Brownies," you spout after a moment.

"You made this idiot brownies?" Jasom suspires, clearly vexed. 

"I did," you smile, inwardly enjoying his apparent displeasure. 

Jason moves to speak but is quickly interrupted by Blondie.

"I'll have to have some shortbread cookies made for you, Jason," she says, smugness oozing as she pulls him closer to her side. 

Right like he would ever eat—

"I love shortbread," Jason says with a wide grin.

"You hate shortbread. You've always hated shortbread," you sputter out without much forethought. 

"Maybe I like them now," Jason shrugs, a sly smirk growing.

Your eyes narrow slightly before they widen a little in remembrance. "Oh, Dick," you tug on his arm to catch his attention. "I almost forgot you left your jacket at my apartment the other day," you prompt.

"Why was he at your apartment?" Jason instantly says, eyes staring daggers into Dick's.

"Just hanging out," Dick answers plainly, his lips quipping only slightly.

"Well, you two sure seem...close," Bondie quips, sipping champagne. 

"Yeah," Jason mutters through gritted teeth. "They do."

As you sip, your eyes leer over Jason's face over your glass of champagne.

His jaw is slightly clenched, and his eyes are narrowed.

Jason Todd, jealous?

What a sight.

"Speaking of apartments," Blondie breaks the silence, turning her head towards Jason. "Daddy just bought me a new one in SoHo. You should stop by," she says before she follows with a wink.

"Oh?" Jason hums lowly, clearly still a little irritated.

You let out a low scoff. "SoHo's kind of a detour, no?"

"It's not too far from here," Blondie says, somewhat defensively. "Plus, I wouldn't mind a long car ride with you," she brings her manicured finger up to run seductively across the pocket of Jason's tailored suit.

You tasted a slight coppery taste, only then realizing you had bit down so hard on your cheek you had drawn blood.

"If you two wanted to head out now, we wouldn't blame you," Dick remarks.

You whip your head around to face his, mouth agape in surprise.

"Would give us a chance to leave, too," Dick finishes, sending a wink your way.

"Together?" Jason poses, tilting his head to the side. 

"Of course," Dick says cooly. 

As you look back at Jason, a tiny flicker of amusement glints in your eyes. 

You can see the gears in his brain turning.

"That's a great idea, Dick," Blondie chimes. "Let's get a head start."

You breathed a shallow breath before swallowing hard, looking Jason straight in the eye.

"Jason," you murmur, voice almost pleading.

"Yeah," he simply says, barreling his way over to you and grabbing your forearm.

"Where are you two going?" Dick asks, a shit-eating grin growing on his face.

"Move, Dick," you say with much more venom than intended.

"Move it, Grayson," Jason spits simultaneously, pushing past his brother.

His arm is tight around your forearm, guiding you out of the room. 

Dick throws his arms up in defeat. "What the hell did I do?"

"Where are they going?" Blondie asks, noticeably irked. 

Dick turns to look at her, pursing his lips slightly, and sighs. 

"Just—do you wanna dance?" He begrudgingly extends his hand.

Blondie perks up almost immediately, grasping his hand and pulling him toward the dance floor.

"She's so gonna owe me," Dick mutters, referring to you, as he is being dragged to the dance floor.

Meanwhile, Jason had led you down a hallway into a nearby broom closet and locked the door behind him. 

"You know, my parents don't think you're a good influence," you say casually as Jason's lips graze your neck. 

"Is that so?" He murmurs against your skin while your fingers thread through his slicked-back hair, holding him in place.

You toy with your bottom lip between your teeth, nodding along. 

The feeling of his hot mouth on such a sensitive area feels tantalizing. 

"They think you're a very bad boy, Jason," you tease before whining as his hand wanders to fondle your ass over your dress. 

You feel him laugh against your skin as his hand skims up your back to grasp for your zipper, pulling it down. 

"What do they think I'm gonna do?" He asks, slipping the front of your dress down as you reach for his tie, pulling him to your lips.

"Make me a bad girl," you murmur against his skin. 

His lips quip in amusement before he pulls back and quickly slips his tie off. "You already are a bad girl, Baby."

You let out a small laugh as you reach out to pull his suit jacket off, fingers fumbling with the buttons on his white collared shirt underneath, before bringing your hand to rest over your heart dramatically. "Me? No. Never!"

He lets out a low laugh that has your stomach in knots as he slips off the collared shirt. 

"Don't think I didn't notice that little game you were playing," he mutters, slipping your dress down to the pool around your ankles.

"You're a little shit starter."

"I was simply evening my odds," you simply say, stepping over your dress and using your foot to push it to the side as Jason unzips his slacks. 

You tilt your head. "She your little girlfriend or something?"

He tilts his head up, mouth opening in amusement. "Come on. You take me for a cheater?" He simply asks, slipping his slacks off. 

"I take you for a lot of things," you begin, pulling him closer by his wrist to press your lips to his. "But a cheater isn't one of them."

He tips his head in appreciation before hungrily engulfing your lips with his. 

"Don't tell me your parents think Dickie would be better for you?" He murmurs in between breaths. 

Your fingers entangled in his hair yet again, pulling him impossibly closer. "Actually, yeah," you suspire. "Or Roy."

He pulls back slightly. "Harper?" Disgust is apparent in his tone.

"Hell, he's worse than me."

You let out a breathy laugh before it contorts to a breathy moan as Jason's pointer and middle fingers skim over your clothed cunt. 

"Besides, neither of them could tame this greedy pussy," he rumbles, fingers delicately moving, pressing up against your clit. "No one could."

You let out a whimper as his fingers move his ease in and out of you, your underwear adding another layer of stimulation. 

"Well, no one....except me," he dips his head to hover over your ear, lips barely brushing the skin. "Yeah?"

You don't respond.

You were too focused on his fingers moving in you and his warm breath fanning your ear. 

"Say it, Baby," he coos as his pointer and middle fingers tweak your clit. 

"Say I'm the only one who can tame this greedy pussy."

You grip his shoulders tight, shamelessly rocking yourself against his fingers to gain more friction.

Your breathy moans shoot directly into his ear as he quickens his movements. 

"Say it," he commands, low and gravelly. "Or I won't make you come."

"Okay—shit," you stutter, trying so hard to get the words out in between pants. "You're the only—one," you begin through gritted teeth. "Who can, can—tame this," his movements pick up at your cooperation. "Greedy pussy," you whine out, grinding your body down on his fingers. 

"What a good girl you are," he praises before, to your dismay, he pulls his fingers out entirely. Your eyes widen in anger, mouth contorting to reprimand him before he moves to slip his slacks and boxers off entirely, revealing his painfully hard erection.

"I'm gonna make you come, Baby. Don't worry," he assures, voice breathy. "But you're gonna come around me."

You release a shallow breath at his words.

Sure, your orgasm had dissipated when he pulled his fingers out, but, fuck, was it back now. 

He leans his head down to press a deep kiss to your lips before his hands move to grip the back of your thighs, easing you up and pushing you against a side wall. 

Your legs instinctually wrap around his waist as his fingers slip into your panties, pulling them to the side to make room for his cock. 

His eyes flick to yours, raising slightly—you sure?

You give him a quick nod before he slips himself into your slit, which was already so slick—ready for him. 

His head goes back at the contact, gripping your hips tighter to keep you in place.

You rock your hips, muttering a curse as he moves against your aching clit. 

"Was he really your date?" Jason props unexpectantly, moving his hands down to grip your ass as he plows into you much deeper. 

"Wha—Dick?" You exasperate, unsure of why his brother was now a topic. 

"Well, yeah," he breathes. "Unless you have some—some other date I don't know about," he pants through labored breaths. 

"I—why are we talking about this when you're inside me?" Your voice is already hoarse as you scramble to grip his neck tighter.

"Fuck. I like that," he groans before returning to the topic. "Just—tell me. Please," he pleads.

"No, Jason." You're surprised you found enough breath to speak. "I don't even talk to him like that," you say honestly.

A slight grin grows on his lips at the admission as his pace quickens.

"And Blondie?" You spit out.

"Blondie?" A cheeky smirk grows on his lips at the nickname before his face turns serious. "Hardly know her."

You give him a slight nod, clearly satisfied with his answer.

He leans his head down to lay in the crook of your neck, groaning and curling into your skin as he drills into you.

"Shit," you curse, starting to feel the build-up of tension in your lower stomach.

"I know, Baby. I know," He croaks into your neck. "Me too."

It only takes him a couple more thrusts for him to groan and spew curses, and you whine and moan as you both simultaneously come. 

After you both recuperate, he eases himself out of you, hissing, as he places you down gently, even helping you slip your dress back up and zipping it up, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder blade in the process.

He slips his boxers and slacks back on as you grab his collared shirt and slip it on him, delicately clasping each button. 

You snicker when you ease the zipper to his slacks up as he groans at your touch. 

"You are a bad girl," he jests, slipping his jacket and tie back on.

You let out a breathy laugh as his hands find your waist, pulling you toward him. He presses a sweet kiss to your temple. 

"Also," he begins his voice a low murmur against your skin. "I hate shortbread."  

You smile and rise onto your tiptoes, hovering near his ear. "I know," you whisper before pulling back, your eyes locked onto his.  

"I've always known."

a/n: lmaoo poor dick

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[reinersredemption]

Stay-at-home Dates | Batboys x Reader ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

masterlist

Bruce Wayne One thing about Bruce: He is a tired man, he’s days are exhausting, to say the least. With managing Wayne Enterprises to being Gotham’s dark knight — he rarely has time to relax, so when he gets the rare opportunity to be home with you, his first instinct is to rest. He’s a fan of old-school romance, and a candlelit dinner or a cozy fondue night is his idea of the perfect evening.

Dick Grayson Dick loves the intimacy of cooking together and enjoys indoor picnics. The quiet moments shared over food make for some of his best memories. He’s also all about living room karaoke, turning a simple night in into an impromptu concert.

Jason Todd You and Jason started a mini book club, just for the two of you. With you in his life, he also discovered a love for pampering himself—something he never allowed himself to do before, hiding behind tough exteriors and emotional walls. Now, you’ve dedicated entire days to treating him with the love he deserves: think robes, scented candles, face masks, foot massages, and bubble baths.

Tim Drake Tim is also a fan of naps, especially when he can curl up next to you. When he’s awake, he enjoys when the both of you watch random documentaries together. He’s also into building complex Lego sets with you, he created a collection of all the ones you finish together, and it’s become one of your favorite bonding activities.

Damian Wayne Pottery nights have become a staple in you and Damian’s date nights, and he’s (not surprisingly) skilled at it. He keeps the pieces you both create, even using them in his daily life. You often catch him sipping from a mug you made him, even if it’s a little lopsided. Painting nights have also found a soft spot in his heart—they’re a quiet way for him to enjoy his day with you.

Duke Thomas Duke is all about board and card games for a cozy night in. He also secretly loves your reality and drama TV marathons, accompanied by lots of snacks. At first, he pretended to be uninterested in it due to it being drama-filled, but now it’s your shared guilty pleasure, and he’ll get genuinely upset if you watch an episode without him.

[plethorawrites]

I feel like we skipped over Club Owner Jason way too fast. Think of all the possibilities...

Club Owner Jason: Who thinks it's a chore more than anything but does it because he trusts himself to have control of the iceberg lounge more than Oswald.

Club Owner Jason: Who shows up every night, purposely scaring some guests, making a scene of throwing someone out once in a while just to prove a point and pass the time because it's boring sitting in the back, just watching the large crowds.

Club Owner Jason: Who spots you out of crowd, curious as to how he's never noticed you before when he knew every dancers name, as he did with all his staff for their safety.

Club Owner Jason: Who realizes you cut your hair recently, dying it a different shade, which wasn't unusual for dancers to do from time to time, but God, you suddenly stood out.

Club Owner Jason: Who pulled you from the floor to satisfy his own curiosity and when you—who was oddly enough not afraid of him the way most of his staff was—complained that he was eating away at your tips by doing so, suggested you dance for him instead. He was a much better tipper than any possible guest.

Club Owner Jason: Who watches your every move, his eyes hardly ever leaving your body unless it was to look you in the eyes, which, were just as stunning, he quickly realized while feeling mesmerized.

Club Owner Jason: Who is true to his word and tips you exceptionally well to compensate for being your only client that night, sliding several hundred dollars into your palms before twirling a strand of your hair in his fingers and asking you to dance for him again tomorrow night.

Club Owner Jason: Who keeps pulling you from the floor so often you stop asking your manager where you're going because you know it'll be to him, like always and to be entirely honest, you don't mind, because he's twice as respectful as most clients and far better at paying you what you're worth.

Club Owner Jason: Who one day, after especially hard day, wants to do more than just stare at you and dates to ask for your permission to touch you, just for a few minutes.

Club Owner Jason: Who pulls you onto his lap, his hands resting on your hips gently, staying completely still as he lays his head on your shoulder, breathing quietly against your neck.

Club Owner Jason: Whose hair you gently run your hands through, letting him rest against you in such an oddly intimate moment you wonder if this is really the guy everyone is so scared of. (Multiple of your fellow dancers has asked you how you were so calm always going to see him.)

Club Owner Jason: Who can't stop himself from shifting his head a bit, pressing a kiss to your exposed collar bone before immediately apologizing for doing so, clearly having lost his mind for a moment.

Club Owner Jason: Who moves to let you up, knowing fully well that this isn't your job and he's not willing to ask for those kind of services from you, only for you to stop him, enjoying the feeling of his hands on your hips. It felt almost natural.

Club Owner Jason: Who quietly asks you, almost hesitantly, why you're not afraid of him, only for you to shrug, not even sure if the answer yourself.

Club Owner Jason: Who brushes a piece of hair from your face, staring at you in silence for a long time before eventually asking if you'd ever let him know you outside of work, if you'd ever let him do this without getting paid for it..

Club Owner Jason: Who feels his heart clench when you tell him yes without hesitation.

[cl0v3risn0td3dy3t]

ummmm jaybird

um men who are bigger than you and tower over you in every way possible but he's obsessed with the overwhelming intimacy of missionary sex. his whole entire body covers yours, and he loves the way it's almost like he's shielding you from the world, that the wanton expressions you're making and the way your body reacts is all for his eyes only. he can control how deep he fucks into you, can carefully watch the faces you make to see if he's hitting all the right spots. loves the way he can hold your hand as he thrusts into you; especially loves the feeling of every cell in his body going weak from how overwhelmed with his love for you he gets. the eye contact is the best and worst part for him; best because he loves looking at you, to know you feel the same, but worst because you always make him go weak in the knees. his arms can barely keep him upright, and he has to bury his face into the hollow of your neck and shoulder and-

[corpsedogs]

✿ just this once.

jason todd x f! reader

( ♡ he lets you experiment on his face )

You were sitting in front of your dresser, doing your usual skincare for the day. Behind you was Jason, laying down on your bed and reading something in his hands.

You glanced at him from your mirror. The blankets were pulled up on his lap as the lamp was faced towards the book in his hands to help him read clearly. His white streaks were slightly messy, as it stood up on his forehead.

Then your eyes trail on his face, the lamp softly dimmed on his face as you looked at it for a moment. Then, your eyes trail on your skincare products then an idea lit in your head.

“Jason?” you called his name, watching as he looked at your direction.

His eyes went from your book in his hand to your reflection in the mirror. He closed his book and placed a bookmark on a page. “Yeah?” he answers back.

You held your smile as you pretended to ponder a bit, you turned your seat to look at him with a small smile. “Can I do something? It’s not much.” you asked him, Jason raised his brow, curious on what you were plotting.

"Depends on what it is," Jason replied, his eyes flickering with curiosity as he looked back at you. "What did you have in mind?"

“Depends,” Jason replies, placing his book on the side of the bed, “Do I need to get up?” he asks. You only shook your head as you got up and took your skin care bottles, “No, it's alright.”

He watched as you took your skincare products as he automatically shifted on the bed to make room for you, “Alright,” he said “What are you doing?”

You hummed as you made your way to the bed, placing your skincare products on the soft mattress. “Can I put these on you?” you asked with a smile on your face.

Jason furrows his brows as he looks at the bottles then you with a funny expression, “You want to put a bunch of sticky stuff on my face?” he asked as he tilted his head to the side a bit. “You’ll look real better.” you replied, “Come on, it’ll feel real good.” you coed as you scooted closer to his side.

Jason couldn't ignore the feeling stirring in his chest as you scooted closer to him. Your smile was infectious, and it made his stern expression soften slightly. But he still wasn't completely convinced. "I don't know if I want to walk around with a bunch of stuff on my face."

You slightly frowned as leaned your chin on his shoulder, “It’s just this once. I won’t do it again.” you said, looking at him with those eyes.

Jason looked at you for a moment as he watched your pleading look, then finally he gave up and sighs. "Fine," he conceded, "Just this once. But if it makes me look like a weirdo, you're going to hear about it for days."

You beamed as you got up from his shoulder and began to sort through your products. As you splatted some liquid in your hands you looked up at him, “You won't regret this I swear.”

"I sure hope I won't," he scoffed. "Just make it quick, I don't have all day." You then beamed as you started dabbing and smearing products all over his face. Jason couldn't help but wince, the sticky, sticky texture felt foreign on his skin, and he found himself flinching every now and then.

"This is really weird," he grumbled, yet his tone was laced with a bit of amusement “How much longer do I have to put up with this?" You only hummed as you placed some more moisturizer on his face, “It takes like fifteen minutes. Just relax.”

Honestly, you were surprised that he easily said yes. He wasn’t one to judge you whenever you use some skin products. If ever, you were really happy that he said yes. “Why do you keep flinching?”

“Ever got condiment on your face?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes “You can’t possibly compare this to condiments.”

"Can't I? It feels just as weird," he retorted, he didn’t mean it though, he kind of likes this. You ignored his retort as you went over your pouch to find something. Jason peeked at whatever you were looking for, god hopes it isn’t anything ridiculous.

“And what is that?” he points as you took out a sachet. You turned to him with a small “Face mask.” you replied as you began to tear the sachet off.

Jason's eyes widened a bit as you tore the sachet open and revealed a face mask. "You're really going all in, huh?" he crossed his arms. "And what am I supposed to do with that thing on my face?"

You begun to place the mask over his face, “Nothing, you just wait till your face feels fresh.” you answered him, “besides, this is my last one so I’m gonna use it on something productive.”

Well.. Jason couldn’t argue with that logic. He slouched his shoulders as he accepted his face, staying still as you placed the mask on his face. He took the opportunity to steal a glance at you, he saw your eager and determined look and he can’t help but think its endearing.

When he was distracted, you couldn’t help but snap a photo of him. When he was distracted, you couldn’t help but snap a photo of him. His eyes suddenly darted to you for a moment, noticing the flash from your phone.

"Are you taking pictures of me now?" he frowns. You only smiled to your phone as you looked at the photo, “If I take a picture, it’ll last longer.” you said.

Jason huffs as he looks at you in disbelief, what is he going to do with you? "Show me.” he says, reaching out for your phone. You gave him a mirror instead, “No way you have that.”

Jason took the mirror and took a look. His reflection looked so.. unamused? The face mask covering his face and the expression he was wearing didn't help in making him feel any less like an idiot.

He looked up at you, raising an eyebrow.

"Do I really look like this?" he asked. “You can take it off now if you want.” you replied. As he removed the mask and threw it on the trash bin beside him, he took the mirror again and looked at himself.

You peeked on his side, looking at him “What do you think? You look nicer now right?” Jason inspected himself in the mirror, tilting his head from side to side as he observed his reflection.

"I think I actually look a bit less like a complete lunatic," he admitted. "You're right, I do look a bit nicer now.”

He couldn't deny the small pang of joy he felt from seeing you happy and content. He couldn't explain why, but.. seeing you enjoy something as mundane as applying clay textures on his face made him feel a little warmth in his chest.

It was stupid but still.

"You're really into this skincare stuff, huh?" he says, leaning on the headboard as he watches you fix yout stuff. “Not so,” you replied. “I just like it when you let me do stupid things.”

"Stupid things, huh?" he repeated, “So you think this whole skincare thing is stupid?" you shrugged, “It probably is to you.” Jason scoffed, he never thought he would be sitting around letting someone apply skincare on his face.

You chuckled at his scoff, “What I’m saying is.. you’d let me do anything to you which is nice.” you said, “You always do.”

His expression softens you. he admitted, his tone genuine. "Well, its cause I don't mind. I just don't want you to expect I'll say yes every time, alright?"

“I’ll try.” you replied.

🍓 my first fic!! please reblog and comment, it helps a lot

[ditzydoe444]

big!jason when he’s fucking you and he notices a bulge in ur tummy

can i be 🐾 anon? if that’s not taken yet

MDNI 18+

a/n: you've been added as 🐾 anon!

there was nothing more that turned jason on more than seeing the bulge in your stomach when he was balls deep in your cunt. there was just something about watching himself move and how he was just so god damn deep in your stomach.

“you see that sweetheart?” he grunted, his chest covered with sweat. “that’s how deep i’m in you, so god damn deep hm? bet im hitting all of your sweet spots.” he didn’t even need a response, the way you whined and moan was enough of an answer.

“bet you love seeing this bulge, knowing how stuffed you are.” jason loved the way your tiny cunt filled him in, how your tight walls stretched to accomodate him. he loved touching the bulge, watching it move with his thrusts, the bulge was just another representation of the size difference between you two.

jason had a habit of pushing you to your breaking point, his rough calloused hands would rub around the side of your waist, squeezing it, or he would apply pressure to the small bulge just to hear you whine. “j-jay,” you quivered from his touch as he pressed down on the bulge. jason knew what he was doing to you, god he could feel your walls connecting around him.

“love this cunt, and it loves me back,” he panted with a cocky grin on his face. jason loved how dumb you got when you fucked him, something that always boosted his masculinity. “gonna come,” you whined, in your current position you couldn’t even move. jason harsh thrusts making you bounce on the mattress whilst he fucked you dumb.

“then come sweetheart, with this dick you’re gonna be doin’ it a lot.”

[luckyluma]

A Single Headcannon of Mine :p

Jason Todd x Reader

Smut Ahead!! MDNI!!

tik tok is dead so it was either study for college or this...

unfortunately one of my more selfish headcannons, just a heads up!

Jason has to be an ass guy. Like he has to be-. Especially with thighs that could crush a whole fucking watermelon with ease. Whenever he fucks his thrusts are strong, smacking his hard thighs against the back of yours. Each thrust, sending shockwaves across your skin. 

It’s no wonder why he loves positions that lets him ogle your ass while he fucks you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to look at you while he pounds you into bliss. He does love to watch how your face falls apart when he hits the spot just right. But something about your ass when you ride him reverse cowgirl. His big hands on your globes, guiding you up and down on his cock. The way his shaft disappears into your dripping cunt, as your soft skin meets his crotch. Just the sight of it alone makes him want to bust a nut, lmao-.

Don’t get him STARTED on doggy style. With reverse cowgirl, he gets to take a break while you do all of the work. But when it’s time for him to clock in. Your ass will look like Jason spent the whole night spanking your ass, but he wasn’t! He just… “got carried away,” he’ll say when you complain about not being able to sit down the next day.

Some fluff stuff. Definitely the type of guy to pinch your ass as a love tap, he will cup your butt while cuddling. If you two are in public, he’ll settle for holding onto your waist instead, but he really wants to squeeze your ass-

[xenop0p]

It was 😍🥰

— A BOY WHO’S JACKED AND KIND

jason todd x reader summary: you trick jason into participating in a certain tiktok trend a/n: a little drabble because I’ve been doomscrolling on tiktok and jason is most definitely jacked and kind and I need him desperately

You can tell that Jason is getting more annoyed by the second. He can’t continue reading his book for longer than five minutes at a time before glancing up at you from across the room with a curious frown. You move around the kitchen fixing yourself an iced coffee while absentmindedly scrolling through your phone and occasionally letting out a laugh or smiling.

By the sixth time you let out a snort, Jason decided he’s had enough and shuts his book, flinging it onto the coffee table before walking over to join you in the kitchen. “What’s making you smile that isn’t me, babe?”

“Huh?” You pull your eyes away from your phone to see Jason attempting a casual pose, leaning against the refrigerator, but he’s borderline pouting. You bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing at him and shake your head. “It’s nothing, just some videos.”

“What kind of videos?” he asks quietly, reaching out to start playing with a strand of your hair that’s escaped your claw clip as if by reflex. He’s still frowning slightly and you roll your eyes, deciding to put him out of his misery.

“Just a cute TikTok trend,” you explain, pulling one of the videos up as Jason peers at your phone eagerly. “See, you get your boyfriend to see if he can pick you up and put you on his shoulder. Some of them are really cute, but look, there’s some who can’t hack it.”

Jason nods slowly in revelation, still engrossed in the rest of the video that’s currently playing before he huffs and shakes his head. “How the hell is that guy struggling? Easy work,” he mumbles.

You’re about to tell him that not everyone has that Red Hood strength on their side before a plan starts forming in your head. Suppressing a smirk, you glance up at him and raise your eyebrows. “Oh yeah? You think you could do it better?”

Jason looks at you with a blank expression. “Was that a joke, or…?”

“I know you’re strong,” you say, shrugging as you nonchalantly take a sip of your coffee, turning away to hide your grin as you walk over to the living room. Jason is hot on your heels as expected. “I just don’t think you could do this as easily as you think.”

“Let’s go,” he says, clapping his hands together. You slowly turn around and tilt your head in questioning. “Let’s make the video, c’mon.”

Hook, line and sinker.

“Alright,” you sigh, setting down your coffee to prop your phone up against it. You pull up the app. “If you insist. Do you want your face in it or should we do it facing backwards?”

“I’ll just cover my face with my hand,” he waves you off, rocking on his heels impatiently. “I only need one of ‘em to lift you.”

He says it so matter-of-fact, and the knowledge that he’s not actually trying to boast has your mouth going dry. It doesn’t help that he’s now shucking off his hoodie and wearing a short-sleeve black t-shirt. His biceps flex as he flings the hoodie onto the couch and you resist the urge to forget about the video and pounce on him. Just for a second.

Clearing your throat, you busy yourself with pressing record and turning a timer on to allow you to step back towards Jason.

“Moment of truth,” you say, challenging him with your doubtful expression and he merely smirks. “Try not to pull any muscles.”

Jason snorts and goes to cover his face with one of his hands, the other already seeking out your waist.

“Wait, not yet!” you remove his arm to place it back at his side and he peeks through his other hand to let you see him rolling his eyes. When the timer is done, you allow yourself to grin, unrestrained and count to 3 in your head. “Okay, go.”

Before the audio has even played halfway through, Jason bends down slightly to factor in your height compared to his and his one large hand grips your hip to lift you off the ground. It feels effortless as he settles you on his shoulder, steady as a rock and you yelp, not expecting him to be that quick.

The rest of the video is you squealing as Jason unexpectedly spins you around in a circle, his one hand gripping your thigh as the other still covers his face. “Jay!” you shriek, looping your arms around his neck to steady yourself. The only reason you’re unsteady is because Jason’s shoulders are shaking with silent laughter.

The video stops recording when the audio ends and you tell Jason as much, making him drop the hand covering his face to grin up at you. He raises an eyebrow as if to say ‘I told you so’, before flexing his free arm for dramatic effect.

“See?” he says, rubbing small circles on your thigh with his thumb and talking up at you with all the ease of talking to you as if you were on the ground in front of him. “What did I say? Easy work, babe.”

“Big show off,” you say, wrinkling your nose at him as you begin to slide down his body. You go slowly, considering the man is basically a human skyscraper and he seems to take advantage of the fact, hands shamelessly roaming up your legs and your sides. He hooks your legs over his own waist, making you cling to him like a koala.

“Can I help you?” you ask, squinting at him when he doesn’t say anything, choosing to just stare at your face instead, drinking you in. You break his concentration by leaning in to press a short, sweet kiss onto his lips that he chases when you pull away. “Earth to Jason?”

“Y’know, I’d be more inclined to participate in your stupid TikTok trends if they all end like this,” Jason mutters, running his nose along your jaw and down your neck before nestling his face there. He doesn’t initiate anything, simply wanting to bask in the comfort of your skin.

You grin at the successful ending to your grand plan, disentangling yourself from your boyfriend to jump down, ignoring his groans of protest.

You run to your phone to save the video to your drafts - no one else needs to see how good Jason’s arms look in a tight black tee - and pull up your folder of couple TikToks. “Oh, well, if you’re finally offering,” you start saying, circling Jason’s wrist with your hand and pulling him onto the couch. He sighs, previously sweet smile being replaced by something skeptical. “I have a whole bunch of ideas.”

“This feels like a set-up.”

© angelfic 2024.

[marshiewritesfics]

A Night Out On the Town with the Batboys

DICK GRAYSON-

- He would want to start the night out by going to a local carnival

- Dick loves going on the rides, enjoying the fair food, and playing the games

- You share some cotton candy with each other and he wins you a stuffed animal from one of the games

- He’s charming and playful as you move throughout the carnival and enjoy a fun time together

- Later that night, he takes you back to his house to hangout and play some video games together

JASON TODD-

- Jason would invite you to an edgier hangout spot in town

- He takes you to a live music festival playing rock music

- You both go all out and dress the part, enjoy the loud music, and spend all night together partying and having a great time together

- Jason brought you into town on his motorcycle and he takes you for a ride later that night, exploring the bright lights of the city at night

- He keeps things exciting and you steal a few kisses from him throughout the night as you explore the city

TIM DRAKE-

- Tim takes you to a nice comic book store downtown that has a wide selection of comics and cool collectibles

- You each pick up a few comic books to enjoy later on

- He also takes you to a cool bookstore that has a little coffee shop attached to it with a chill vibe where you get drinks and pastries

- You hangout and relax there for a bit enjoying each other’s company while you talk and read the comics you picked out together

- Tim impresses you with his knowledge and witty humor while you hangout making it a fun time together

[comically-callous]

JASON TODD ISN’T GOOD WITH WOMEN!!!! HE HAS ZERO GAME!!!! (and while we’re on the topic, he is NOT super dominant either, this dude probably cries during sex 💔💔💔)

[ouch-thats-harsh]

Just kill me already, this is so pure, so raw. Bro, just kill me.

please take this. I made myself cry writing it and I have nothing to say except that putting ya’aburnee and darling by halsey on my jason playlist was a brutal choice. also look up flower language if you want additional feelings.

There’s so many things you want for Jason Todd.

You want him to get a good night’s sleep for once. You let him close his pretty seafoam eyes and lay his head in the crook of your neck as you scratch gently at his scalp. It always calms him down, grounds him in the here and now. Your arms around him, your fingers carding through his hair, the rise and fall of your chest that’s synced with his–it all reminds him that he’s safe, that he’s home. You want that feeling to follow him into his dreams, to let him find true rest. So when his body goes tense and his breathing gets labored, you hold him closer and hum gently into his ear until whatever haunts him in his sleep is chased away by the comfort you bring.

You want to make sure he’s protected. You wish you could deflect every hit, blade, and bullet away from his body. You wish he would see his body as something worth protecting. He would stop if you asked, would settle into a normal life as best as he could. You would never ask because to do so would be to deny the part of him you love most: his heart that beats to help others. So you protect him in the ways that you can. You stitch cuts and treat burns, you mend his jackets and help clean his guns. More than anything, you guard his peace of mind like it’s the most valuable thing in the world. You’re never cruel to him, never scream vicious words or toss him out into the cold night. You call Bruce and thank him for the first edition Jane Austen novels that arrived on your doorstep on August 16th when Jason just…can’t. You let him grip your hand brutally tight under the table when you go to the manor for Thanksgiving for the first time. And when it gets really bad? When he feels the burning of green waters that breathed life into him that he didn’t want, when hideous laughter echoes in a place it’s never been? You do something no one has ever done for him. You wait. You stay. You stay by his side until he can breathe again, until dawn breaks and he can see the light again. And always, always you, haloed in it like an angel he doesn’t think he deserves. He does.

You want him to have a good cup of hot chocolate. He told you about it once when he came home after a long winter patrol. Half delirious from exhaustion, he reminisced about how Bruce would make them both a cup of hot chocolate after particularly rough or successful patrols in December. How this specific hot chocolate had no equal—even Alfred couldn’t replicate the richness and warmth. You noticed the fondness in his voice, the longing so intense that it still makes your heart ache for him. So you do some light stalking and hunt down Tim Drake, demand that he give you the information you want or else you’ll disclose how he really lost his spleen to Bruce (why he was dense enough to tell Jason, you’ll never know). And that is how Bruce Wayne, billionaire philanthropist single father and the Batman, receives an email with the subject line “URGENT: Recipe Request” that reads as follows:

To whom it may concern,

I have been made aware that you have a remarkably compelling hot chocolate recipe that is hitherto unparalleled by cafes, franchises, and butlers alike. I am emailing you to inquire about my being sent this recipe post-haste. This is less a request than a demand. I will do my best to ensure that you, at some point in time not specified (it will take great effort on my part), are able to witness the consumption of the hot chocolate by the individual that will be receiving the product of the recipe.

Best regards,

Someone who loves your son.

Bruce sends the recipe the second he receives the email. He has to sneak his phone under the conference table at the Wayne Enterprises board meeting to do it, but he still manages to reply in two minutes and forty-seven seconds. And you make good on your promise. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jason shine as brightly as he does that Christmas, lit up by the lights on the twelve foot tree as he sips his hot chocolate from the same red mug that’s been sitting in the kitchen cabinet since he last drank from it. The matching black mug is clasped in the hands of the hot chocolate connoisseur himself, who smiles softly like the magic of the season has returned to his life for the first time in ages.

You want him to heal. It’s a big ask; you know that. But you’ve never been one for giving up hope, and if anyone can manage to achieve the impossible, it’s Jason. So you tell him it’s a great idea when he jokes about getting a therapist. You wait for him in the car the first time he goes and you let him open up to you in his own time when he comes out of the appointment body tight as a bowstring and eyes bloodshot. You watch quietly and celebrate the little victories you see him win. He can call his father first now; he doesn’t do it often, but he can. He can talk to his younger brother without hating his hands and the blood that’s been spilled on them, without going out on patrol and intentionally letting all the worst hits make contact. He can go out to lunch with his older brother and his youngest, can laugh with them over that ridiculous thing Bruce did at a gala once to make them all laugh. He can bear his birthday a little bit better now, can accept the cake you bake and actually make a wish when he blows out the candles. But you’ll never know about the moment that you start to get what you want. Jason goes to visit his own grave on the anniversary of his death and finds a bouquet of red carnations, baby’s breath, and honeysuckle with a note in your handwriting that reads “Someone told me once that you were magic, that that was the best thing about you. I think it’s far more important that you were loved. I don’t know what you could’ve been. I don’t wonder about it like those that loved you did because all I know is who you became. He’s wonderful. He’s still magic. I think you’d be proud of him. I’ll do my best to take care of him for you.” He sits there for an hour in tears. Then he takes one bud of each flower and the note, goes home and presses them into the pages of his favorite book. He holds you in his arms in bed that night and feels, for the first time in a long time, a sense of peace down to his very bones.

You want—above all else—Jason Todd to feel loved. You want him to feel so cherished and wanted that he cannot possibly look at himself without realizing that he is something precious, something beloved. So you tell him that you love him and you accept his warm embrace as his way of saying it back. You make him chocolate chip cookies and sneak one into the pocket of his tactical pants when he goes on patrol (they’re soft, they don’t get crunched when he’s thrown from a roof). You read his favorite books to understand what he’s saying when he goes off on tangents about class and social hierarchy and how they governed life in the 19th century. You trace his scars and kiss away his tears when he can’t believe that he could be transformed from a being marred by brutality into a man revered with gentleness. You will love him until the day you both die. You will love him in death, until whatever atoms made up you and him come together again. You will love him until everything that ever is or ever was ceases to be in a supernova of light. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll love him in whatever is born after.

[sweetchillipeppers]

Jason Todd x Reader - Teacher AU

Pairing: Jason Todd x Gender Neutral!Reader

A/N: Y’all what if I actually got back into writing fics? I didn’t know I could do that. But write what you want to see. And I want to see English teacher by day, Red Hood by night Jason Todd with History teacher reader so sue me. More importantly, I want to see Damian in reader’s classroom at lunchtime bitching about his brother. I already have part two, so that will be posted soon. (And y’all get to have a look at the Red Hood!)

Also I believe this is gender neutral if anyone sees gendered language let me know and I'll fix it.

Tags: Rivals to lovers, kind of mutual pining, Teacher AU Word Count: 3368

Pt 1 Pt 2

You were warned that teaching would be just like high school all over again. The same cliques and bullies and drama that plagued the halls when you were 15, to be repeated now that you’ve returned to the school as an adult. To think that fully grown human beings are still caught up in the same scandals, doomed to the same behaviour 10 years after they should have grown out of it. You never would have believed it until you saw it yourself. Until even you devolved to your teenage years, developing a deep hatred for a fellow colleague. Okay. Hatred was a strong word for the rivalry but the dislike you held for a certain English teacher was real. And right now, he was the reason you’ve had to delay a test for your students. The email you’d received less than 10 minutes before your class was due to start did nothing but add to the rage you felt.

“10th grade English stream A2 is running over. 7 kids still need to present their projects. They’ll be late for their next class. Sorry for the delay.” 

Attached was a list of students in the class who would be late. All unsurprisingly in your history class. Mr Jason Todd had no respect for you, no respect for your time and no respect for your subject.

As the two youngest teachers at the school, you were often paired together: volunteer work, lunch duty, after school workshops. It didn’t help that your two departments, history and english, also worked closely with one another. You hated that the kids adored him. You hated that the other teachers still adored him, especially after all his flakiness. You knew that he hadn’t appeared at over half the after school volunteer work you had to do, and that he likely had an active social or dating life that was the cause, something you missed since becoming a teacher. So maybe, the hatred was all just jealousy. NOT. As if you’d be so petty.

When you first met Jason, you liked him. Like really liked him. He was pretty and smart and you are oh so attracted to competence. You trapped him in literary discussions from the Brothers York to the Odyssey but he never minded. You threw a couple joint trip ideas around to go see a local Shakespeare play after Christmas or the early 19th century writers exhibition at the museum. He was also the rugby coach and his practice on the field coincided with your volleyball team’s in the hall so twice a week you tidied the equipment cupboard together. You were so certain the two of you would be fast friends. Maybe more. So when the librarian went on paternity leave in October and Jason needed help re-cataloguing the entire library onto the new system you volunteered. A chance to spend time with someone you liked and helping out the school: a win-win. What you hadn’t expected was that what should’ve been a couple hours at most after school for a week turned into a month-long endeavour for you. Only you. Jason would stay for at most 20 minutes before running away with some kind of excuse and vanishing for the rest of the night. By the third week, you’d started cataloguing during your lunch breaks to try speed up the process (and to avoid spending any time with him while your temper simmered under pleasantries). After that you distanced yourself. He clearly had no respect for your time and you by extension. No more literary discussions in the staff room. No more joint tidies in the equipment store and no more library cataloguing. Mr Jason Todd was the most unreliable colleague you had. The bane of your existence. And yet, everyone seems to forget this fact when he flashes a smile or starts talking about classic literature. But not you. No, you could see through his gorgeous face, past those good looks into the depths of his terrible personality. And unfortunately, the only person who agreed with you was a child.

“Todd irritates me far too often. I put in a request at the start of the year that I would not be in any of his classes.” Damian states matter of factly. The two of you were sat in your classroom eating lunch. The youngest Wayne opting to spend time surrounded by history displays instead of braving the lunch hall and eating alone. And, as the teacher, it was your responsibility to encourage him to make friends. After the two of you bitch about Jason of course. 

“I wish I could put in a request to stop seeing him in the staff room. But no, he wanders in with his fancy books and his fancy teas-”

“Those would be Pennyworth’s” He confirms.

“-Flashes a smile and expects me to be nice to him after how flakey he’s been. Can you believe it?”

Damian swallows a bite of his sandwich and nods solemnly. “I can.”

“He’s incredibly unreliable. I mean how do people give him any responsibility after this?” Your arms gesturing wildly.

“Perhaps this is weaponised incompetence. I always say to Father that he is too incompetent for his job.” Damian suggests, shaking his head. “But Father says that he is one of the most competent people he knows”

It’s not too hard to be competent in front of ‘Brucie’ Wayne. But you don’t tell Damian that.

“No, he's definitely competent enough. I know he’s incredibly intelligent and I sat in for one of his classes. He clearly just has zero time management skills.”

“And he lacks respect.”

“And he lacks respect!” You shout, then realise you should probably calm down and sheepishly rub the back of your neck. Although it seems that Damian hadn’t cared about your outburst.

“I am the blood son, he should at least be respectful to the rightful heir. But no, he and Grayson make a habit of tossing me about like a basketball.”

That sounds quite sweet to you, that Damian’s older brothers treat him so nicely and the disagreement must show on your face because Damian scoffs.

“Pennyworth tells me it’s ‘Sibling Bonding’. I do not wish to think of those two imbeciles as related to me.”

“The curse of being the youngest.” you offer in response, “Although it sounds like they want to be playful with you. That they want a good relationship.”

“I can’t believe you’re defending Todd right now.”

You huff at that, changing the subject. “Maybe you should make some other friends, that way you can spend less time with your brothers. Think of it as an escape plan.”

“Are you not my friend?” 

“Um well, yes, but I meant some kids your own age.”

“Ah. Father agrees. He says that Jon is not enough. That I need more than one friend. How many friends do you have? I will achieve the same.” Damian looks determined, which means you’re at least getting through to him. You, on the other hand, feel like a deer in headlights. Honestly you can count the number of friends you have from outside work on one hand. 

“I have lots of friends.” You brag. Damian does not look convinced. “How about you aim to make two more friends? Maybe you should join a club. Ms Song says you excel in her art classes. The art club meets on Tuesday lunchtimes and after school on a Wednesday.”

“I enjoy my lunches in the history room.”

“But this would work for both of us Damian. I start lunchtime duty next week on Tuesdays. I won’t be in my classroom.” A lie, of course, but you really want Damian to make some friends and be more social amongst the other students. You’re not sure who’s timetabled for Tuesday lunchtime duty but you’ll find a way to swap. And luckily, Damian doesn’t call your bluff.

“Fine. I shall join the art club. I suppose it is only fair that I do something uncomfortable as well.”

You have no idea what Damian is talking about but he’s joining the art club so that’s a win for you. He’s putting himself out there socially and that’s all you can hope for. The bell rings and Damian packs up his things, leaving you to get ready for your next class. 

By the end of the day you were still thinking about how much you hated Jason. It’s not like he was the only thing on your mind though. In all honesty the only thing you had learnt from the earlier half of your conversation with Damian is that you were acting like a 14 year old. Not to say neither of your grievances were invalid but you suppose you should maybe give Todd slightly more grace than you do currently. Especially if he already has one enemy in Damian. You think back to the incident this morning. Maybe it really was an accident. Sometimes projects and classes over run. You have to be flexible in teaching. You gather your materials together when the bell rings and your last class rushes out the door. 

“For those of you coming on the trip on Saturday, meet outside the school bright and early!” You call, “The coach leaves at 8.30!”

You sit back down and stretch your arms out as you log into your emails, sending one to the maths teacher asking to switch to her lunchtime duty on Tuesdays. She replies yes and you smile in success. Plan ‘help Damian make friends’ has finished stage one. Wonderful! Scanning the latest reminder from your principal, someone knocks at the door, drawing your attention away. You figure it might be Janice, one of the cleaners or Alejandro the receptionist. “Come in.” you say, and turn back to your emails.

“Where’s good to start setting up?” You would recognise that grating voice in a heartbeat. Jason Todd. You swivel so fast in your chair you almost fall out of it. 

“What are you doing here?” You try to sound as neutral and as unaffected by his very presence as possible. 

“Parents' evening. We’re sharing a classroom. The email went out three weeks ago and a reminder today?” You turn back to the monitor. The last unread email. Damn. You’d agreed to share a classroom when you were still on good terms. 

“I must’ve missed it. I’m ready to start setting up right now.” You smile through gritted teeth.

You were so wrong about giving grace. That man has done nothing but step on your toes all afternoon. That display should be changed, these books should be out, example essays from each subject should have no overlap. And the worst part is that he was right on most counts. But you don’t take lightly to being ordered around by a man who does nothing but infuriate you. In less than an hour the parents will be walking into your room and judging you and the school and you again and Jason still isn’t back. He better be in the toilet having a case of explosive diarrhoea or so help him god, the principal will have to scrape his remains off the teacher car park. It’s been 20 minutes. You suppose the classroom is prepped and ready for the parents so you could just wait anxiously by yourself. You suppose nothing was tethering him here when the displays were done as long as he made it back before the parents. You suppose he wouldn’t want to spend time with someone who had become so hostile and jagged towards him. Maybe he was talking with some of the other teachers, you reasoned. He hadn’t abandoned you again. Not after the promises about turning up and being here. And certainly not after the principal’s second reminder email that seemed more like a warning. Perhaps you should go see if any other teachers needed help last minute as well. To keep your mind busy and away from the failure Jason was setting you up for. You lock your classroom and walk towards the art room.

Jason was running late again. Dick had called in an SOS and he was closest. And to make up for it he figured it wouldn’t matter if he stopped to grab a coffee for you each as a peace offering. He did enjoy your company after all. He knew that your iciness these past few weeks had been well deserved. He didn’t mean to miss all the cataloguing but it was a particularly active week for Black Mask and Penguin and then the week after that he was recovering from a stab wound he’d gotten during a routine drug bust. Getting a second job had taken some getting used to. So he could hardly blame you for your hostility. He knew he deserved it. So in order to make amends, he grabbed you a drink from the cafe two blocks from the school before he joined you in your classroom, ready for parents evening. He signed back into the office before catching a glimpse at the time. Shit. You were going to be so angry if he was late again. So he sprinted like a madman, ignoring all his very new teacher instincts about running in corridors. As Jason rushed towards your classroom he didn't notice the art room door open and you step out, waving goodbye to Ms Song. 

The apology coffee ended up all over you. Seeping through your sweater and your shirt. Your nice, white shirt, ironed and pressed for parents' evening. You take a deep breath. 

“I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t mean to-” Jason starts.

“It's okay Jason, really.” You swallow and turn to keep walking to your class. You were trying not to lose it. Not to cry or yell, when parents could walk through the door at any moment. Jason trailed behind you. When you walk into your classroom he calls your name. 

“What?” You snap. You have run out of patience and out of grace for him. He takes off his knit jumper, passing it to you.

“It’ll help cover the stain.”

“It’ll be weird though won’t it?” You question, eyebrow raised. You knew exactly what the staff room would sound like on Monday if anyone saw you. 

“Is that worse than letting the principal see you talking to parents covered in coffee?”

You don’t reply. He was right, per usual. You take the jumper, unenthusiastically and pull it on. It smells like him. Not that it would mean anything to you of course, it’s just a smell. It has absolutely zero effect on you. Jason was also not faring too well. Seeing you in his jumper was quite endearing. But it had no effect on him either. Everyone looked good in knit. Thankfully, you both hear the parents walking around the corridors and are able to break the awkwardness. 

“Ready to go?” He asks.

“People will like history way better than English.” You promise in response, looking at your display on ancient civilisations, matching your 9th grade class’s current topic. The bright colours and big posters were sure to catch everyone’s eyes.

Jason smirks, “More people like Shakespeare than you think.” He references his own display: a large, badly drawn, picture of Shakespeare with literary technique thought bubbles surrounding him. You roll your eyes, desperately trying to stop any trace of a smile. You were still angry at him. But right now, the parents need your attention.

The two of you finally finished the evening. It had been taxing, no thanks to your revived rivalry. You spent the entire evening one-upping each other to parents, as subtle as possible of course. When the principal had checked in on your pair, you were sweet as saints. No matter how much you disliked the man, even you couldn't deny how well you worked together. He apologised multiple times about the coffee. He really did feel bad about it all. The spill really was an accident. He also apologised for his flakiness, but gave no explanation as to why he had abandoned you for weeks on end. You found no reasonable explanation incredibly hard to believe. So you still didn’t trust him. 

When the final parents left and the two of you began the tedious task of tidying, you walked up to him. “Just because we’ve worked well together tonight does not mean I forgive you. I know you’ve said sorry but until you prove it I don’t believe you.” You used your teacher voice but kept it low enough that the few listening ears wouldn’t have the chance for any gossip. Jason nods, gulping. You continue to work in silence. When the two of you finished packing everything away, highly efficiently you might add, you knew you ought to talk to Jason about Damian. No matter how much his brother disliked him, you knew you needed to talk to him about Damian. You wanted his family to encourage his creativity as both an outlet and a means to relax and socialise. You casually leant against a desk and spoke up. 

“This might be too personal-” Jason perked up at your voice. “-but I was wondering if you could ask your family to encourage Damian’s art and creativity. I’m aware he doesn’t really have many friends-” Jason scoffs and you stare him down. He was a grown man. He needed to act like one.

Jason breaks the silence, “He has one friend, Jon. He lives in Metropolis. They see each other pretty regularly.” Jason shrugs. “Does he really need more?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You need to think like a teacher. Stop looking at him like your kid brother and see him as a child having trouble connecting with his peers. I want him to have someone to talk to while at school. Someone who is not me. And not you.” You add, even though you know Damian likely ignores his entire existence. “I’ve asked him to join the art club and go on Tuesday lunchtimes. I’m sure Ms Song has told you about how talented he is.”

“She hasn’t. You’re the only teacher who knows we’re related.” Jason shrugs again. His nonchalance was getting on your nerves. 

“What?”

“The school board and principal know, obviously. But we thought it would be better that his peers didn’t. We didn’t want him being accused of favouritism.” You suppose that makes sense. That could have isolated him further. Jason stepped towards you. “And you only know because of your bitching sessions.” Your eyes widen. “Yeah I know about those.” Jason taunts. 

This man. The nerve! And after you had graciously half-forgiven him. Surely Damian had not spilled the beans to his asshole brother. No. Jason probably found out by spying or some very nefarious plot. Why would he care anyway? Everyone else at this stupid school adored him. You were indulging his kid brother and helping him talk about his feelings. You were not in the wrong here. Jason was. And he was also far too close to you now. You don’t even know when he got so close. So close to one another that you could see every freckle. Every scar. Every pore on his gorgeous face. You were too close. And you knew you were flushing. You felt so hot. FROM REVITALISED LOATHING AND HATRED OF COURSE. Not from embarrassment. Or any other emotion. You steel your eyes. He would not know how much he affected you. Stupid smirking men do not get to win. You stand up straight and look him eye to eye. “Encourage Damian’s creativity. Your brother deserves more friends.” You dodge past Jason and grab your bag from under your desk. You motion for him to grab his shit. He does so and walks out, heading straight for the office to leave. Allowing you to lock up your classroom by yourself, in the empty school, not thinking about how close the two of you had been. Never thinking about his eyes or his hair or his lips. Peeling off his jumper and staring down the ugly brown coffee stain on your shirt, only thinking about the ways Jason had wronged you.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune