#Jason todd x you Drabble

[petsdenonne]

Accidental

(Part 2: Here)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT 18+, nudes, Fluff, Graphic sexual content, friends to lovers.

Word Count: 1,185

Summary: When you accidentally send something to Jason that you're not supposed to he doesn't react the way you were expecting.

Authors note: I read @dxckgrxsonx ‘s Dickpic!Jason x Reader series and it sent me absolutely feral 💕 I had to write something! Seriously, go read it, it’s amazing. Here, look, I even made it easy for you.

✨MASTERLISTS✨

---------------------------------------------------------

oh god.

oh god, no.

Surely you hadn't...no, surely not...

As your finger hovered over the screen of your phone you could see that you had in fact done what you hoped you hadn't.

You had accidentally sent a nude to Jason instead of the man you had meant to. Why did he have to message you then!? It had bumped your chat with him to the top of the list and in your pre-occupied haze you hadn't noticed the name and contact photo at the top of your screen before you sent the image.

Fingers moving quickly to unsend the photo before he saw- oh, no, please no.

The 'sent' under the photo had changed to 'seen'

Bile and panic rose up into your throat and you tried to swallow it down as you threw your phone onto the bed beside you. You had to see him tomorrow! Bruce had invited you to the stupid family BBQ that they hosted at the manor every summer, since your father had died Bruce had taken you under his wing causing you to be an honorary member of the Waynes. Maybe you could pretend you were sick, tell Bruce you had a cold or a stomach bug? no, he'd send Alfred over with meds and soup. Maybe you could fake your death and run off to Bosnia? No, he'd know. He was the Bat after all.

Maybe you could kidnap Jason and brainwash him, cause him to forget that he had seen it and then delete the image from the chat- ding.

Your phones text chime ripped your attention back over to it, wrapping yourself tightly in your duvet you reach over and gingerly bring the phone back towards you so that you can read the message. Whatever he was going to say you could deal with, you'd dealt with Karens during the Black Friday sales when you worked in retail and you were sure nothing could be worse than dealing with that. Preparing yourself mentally to deal with the embarrassment of having to apologise and grovel with him you throw the phone back down again in frustration, causing it to bounce off of the bed and onto the floor, the screen chipping, when you see that it was just a spam text.

-----

By the next morning Jason still hadn't acknowledged the photo in any sense, that was a good thing, right? You were both adults. Adults have needs.

Even so you wanted to avoid him as best as you could, planning to go out. Say hi to Bruce and Alfred, thank them for being invited again like every year, grab a plate of food, and then hide somewhere to eat it.

Walking into the manor, having unlocked the front door with your key, you headed through the halls until you reached the garden. A small radio playing the playlist of whoever had managed to jump onto it first. Saying your hellos and thanks you piled upon your plate with chicken and steak, as well as a few things from the table spread like a healthy portion of Alfreds homemade potato salad before retreating into the manor to find somewhere to eat it.

As you settled in the library, closing the door behind you to pace slowly in front of the bookcases as you ate, your eyes skimming the spines of the vast collection- ding.

oh for gods sake, you'd have to have your number removed from whatever spam list it had been put on, the amount of junk you were receiving was ridiculous.

oh.

Oh.

As you opened the text to block the number you see that it wasn't a spam text.

It was from Jason.

Jasons dick was taking up your whole screen, all 7.5 inches of it. Pubes neatly trimmed back and cared for. You could see every vein and god it was good.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Jasons voice broke you from your thoughts as he stood in the doorway behind you, damn Bruce and his perfectly oiled silent door hinges. Stepping towards you with a dark look in his eyes and a smirk on his lips "Ya' know, you sent me that at the most inconvenient time. Right as I was about to break a guys collar bone, sweetheart. How was I supposed to do that when all I could see was you? so alone. so wet. so needy"

"J-Jay..."

"What? Baby girl. So shy now, I saw the pose you were in. That screamed confidence. Where's that gone, huh?" The smell of cigarette smoke and leather and gun powder filled your nose as he got so close your back pressed into the case behind you, towering over you as he softly placed his finger under your chin and tilted your head up to look at him. Pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, then your cheek, your jaw, before he whispered into your ear "I want you"

Potato salad smushed into the carpet as you dropped the plate whilst trying to place it on a nearby surface but missed, you didn’t care, you’d clean it up later. All you wanted to do was get your arms over Jason’s shoulders as soon as you could. Mouths clashed together as he lifted you up by your waist, your legs wrapping around him as he carried you. Soft moans being shared as your lips worked together, his hands moving down to cradle your arse in his palms, fingers digging into the soft flesh through your jeans.

Placing you down to rest on the arm of the nearby sofa, hands were everywhere. His on you. Yours on him. Just trying to undress as fast as you could, both desperate for the embrace of the other. As soon as you were stripped off to an acceptable standard he grabbed you by your hips, turned you around, and bent you over the arm.

-----

Your walls fluttered and clenched around his cock as the thick veins dragged against you. One hand clinging onto your waist tightly, the other on the sofa next to you to support himself as he pumped into you. "Fuck, Sweetheart...would have done this sooner if I had known you'd feel this good..." he growled, digging his nails into your side to anchor you close to him, he had waited so long to hold you, to feel you, and he wasn't planning on letting you go any time soon.

"H-Harder...M-more.." You whined out, burying your face into the leather of the seat. Trying to stay as quiet as possible to avoid others hearing, the last thing you needed was for someone to walk in and see you with him, arse in the air as he pounded into you from behind, his balls slapping against your puffy sensitive clit.

Reaching forwards Jason grabbed ahold of your hair, yanking your head backwards so your face was out in the open and free. Leaning forward to growl into your ear as he made your back painfully arch against his chest "No, Don't you dare muffle yourself, I want them to hear me make you sing"

[angelfic]

jason todd x reader

warnings — mentions of size/body image, jason being insecure… and also sexy. also this is unedited as per usual. other than that, nothing!

a/n; im gonna bite his bicep like that’s all i have to say. enjoy <3

JASON TODD is huge.

the man is over 6 feet of pure muscle so it doesn’t matter how tall you are, he’s bigger than you and he’s very aware of it.

when he’s red hood, being so large is a tactical advantage. he feels strong and in charge and practically unbeatable.

when he’s jason, he feels uncomfortable and noticeable and that’s the last thing he wants or needs. he doesn’t stop working out, because not only does he need something physical to relieve his stress, but he also can’t afford not being jacked as fuck. how the hell else is he supposed to be as scary as he is as red hood.

instead, he overcompensates by wearing darker colours, slightly oversized hoodies, not always standing up at his full height. it doesn’t do that much, the sheer size of him is a little hard to fully hide, but it makes him feel a little better.

when you come into the picture, things slowly start to change.

every time he hugs you, it’s instantly a mood booster for you because of how safe it feels with his arms wrapped around you, shielding you from the world for a few minutes. the way you sigh and melt into the hug has him smiling, a little shyly, as he holds you closer.

whenever you need him to get you something off a high shelf, he happily obliges and loves feeling useful. more than that, he loves how you always thank him by gently running a hand down his chest. “what would i do without you?” you say, sincerely, because you know he needs to hear it sometimes. and when you drop a kiss to his forearm as he sets the object down, he’s suddenly glad that he’s taller than you and he starts standing a little straighter.

the first time you hold up his hand against yours to compare sizes, you find yourself grinning at the difference. jason finds himself thinking about how small your hand is instead of how large his own is. and when you interlock your fingers with his, that’s all he’s focusing on.

sometimes, when your eyes are locked on your phone as you’re walking the busy streets of gotham and letting jason guide you around with your hand in his, he’s having to grab your waist to stop you bumping into someone or something. “careful,” he mutters, but his mind has gone blank and all he’s thinking about is his large hands around your waist and his pulse is racing. he feels like a creep until you turn around to give him a sheepish smile and thank him, placing your hands on his to keep them around your waist. he doesn’t miss the way you’re glancing down and biting your lip.

with jason around, you never have to do any heavy lifting, but of course you’re going to try sometimes. when you buy a cute new coffee table and it arrives when he’s out on patrol, you physically can’t wait to open and buid it. that bit is easy enough, but you find yourself cursing when you realise you stupidly built it on the other side of the room. “uhm, what do you think you’re doing?” jason asks, leaning in the doorway, red hood helmet in between his arm. you’re breathing heavily, arms pinned awkwardly at your sides as you were trying a new approach of throwing your body weight against the table to shift it. you slump, looking up at him with a pout.

“it’s heavier than i thought,” you admit. jason crosses the living room in two giant strides.

“you’re gonna hurt yourself,” he says, lifting the entire thing with both hands on either side and effortlessly placing it in front of the couch. he looks at you for approval in case you want it elsewhere and finds that you’re staring at him, slack jawed. he frowns, crossing his arms over, vigilante suit still on. “what…?”

“that was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” you say, shamelessly. he grins, shaking his head at the way you’re completely serious, but the blush on his cheeks gives him away. “no, seriously, you need to run before i pounce on you.”

his favourite thing is your habit of falling asleep on him when you’re watching tv and he often needs to pick you up to take you to bed. sometimes, you start to stir, halfway to the bedroom and you sleepily blink up at him before wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his jaw. “you’re so strong,” you mumble against his shoulder, your voice soft with drowsiness. jason’s heart clenches.

jason starts standing at his full height just so he can see you craning your neck to look at him, giving him the excuse to lift you up onto the counter which often results in you wrapping your legs around his waist and engaging a make out session.

he starts to wear t-shirts instead of large hoodies when he goes to the gym, just so he can hear you wolf whistle as he walks to the door, running over to kiss him goodbye and giving his biceps a squeeze.

day by day, jason finds himself more comfortable with just being him. and he’s even happier than he gets to be himself with you.

a/n cont.; the red hood mask stays ON during sex

[enviedear]

jason todd rarely got upset with you. honestly—a very rare occurrence.

but tonight—as you stumble through the door, giggling to yourself as you struggle with your heels. he definitely gives you a look.

“ohhh, i know that face,” you slur, pointing a wobbly finger at him. “you're mad.” you draw out your last word, ending with a hum.

jason, who's still leaning against the couch with his arms crossed, exhales through his nose. “babe, s'just my face.”

you snort, finally kicking your shoes off with an exaggerated sigh. “my hero,” you murmur dramatically, flopping onto the couch beside him, head immediately landing on his shoulder. “you’re so comfy.”

he shakes his head, amused, as he catches you before you slide all the way down. “how much did you drink?”

you hold up three fingers, then squint, “wait…maybe four?”

“that’s not an answer.”

you wave a dismissive hand. “steph had us do rounds. ‘sides, i’m fine.”

he lets out a low chuckle, warm and fond. “yeah, i can see that.”

you tilt your head up at him, pouting. “why weren’t you there, huh? you coulda kept me from gettin’ so tipsy.”

“because it was girls’ night.”

you gasp, poking at his chest. “you said you wanted to crash next time.”

“i take it back.” a grumble, deep in his chest.

“rude,” you huff, snuggling further into him. “i missed you, though.”

his arm slides around you properly then, pulling you close. “yeah?”

“mhmm,” you hum, pressing a messy kiss to his jaw. “missed my handsome, broody boyfriend.” another kiss, “missed your grumpy face.”

“i’m not grumpy,” he mutters, but he doesn’t stop you, his fingers tracing slow circles against your back.

you nuzzle into him, eyelids drooping. “love you, jay.”

his breath hitches. then his grip on you tightens, lips pressing into your hair, “love you too, drunkard.”

you hum happily, already halfway to sleep in his arms.

writer's note .☘︎ ݁˖ heavily inspired by my sweet bf taking care of my annoying drunk ass. also because i think everyone wants to go home to a pouty jason todd. there's no way i'm alone here. comments and reblogs appreciated

🖇️ masterlist | askbox | recent works | moodboard for this drabble

[fear-is-truth]

you have a habit of biting jason.

his biceps, shoulders and sometimes his forearm, just because it’s there. he never really reacts. just gives you that long, deadpan stare, as if he’s debating whether you’re actually insane or just stupidly affectionate.

“you got issues,” he comments once, shaking his head. but he never stops you. so maybe you get careless.

until one day, he bites back.

it’s fast, too—teeth catching the junction of your neck and shoulder. you yelp, jerking away, staring at him like he’s lost his mind. jason raises an eyebrow.

“what?”

“you bit me.”

“yeah,” he says, “you do it all the time.”

“yeah, but i���” you falter. “that’s different.”

he snorts. “how?”

you open your mouth. close it.

he smirks. leans in slowly, crowding into your space.

“huh,” he murmurs, lips brushing the spot he just bit.

“fair’s fair, sweetheart.”

then he does it again.

[ivysangel]

Jason Todd has a raging size kink. He tries not to make it too obvious in public, tries to pretend that he doesn't notice how standing next to you really highlights just how large he really is. But it's always on his mind, always front and center, even when he doesn't want it to be.

He'll have a hand on your back as he ushers you through crowded parts of Gotham, trying not to think about how large his hands are and how one of them can cup an entire asscheek when he's fucking you.

He grabs things off of tall shelves at grocery stores when you can't reach them. Comes up behind you and picks them up with ease while he's pressed into you from behind. He's peering down at you, a soft grin on his face as he thinks about you on your knees, struggling to take him in your mouth.

When you're playing twister at a Wayne family function, and you end up falling on each other during a wrong move, he watches you break out into a fit of laughs while he turns red in the face. Not from embarrassment, he couldn't care less about that, but because the first thought that popped into his head as you were pinned under him was how much he wished you could stay there.

For a split second, an image is projected into his mind of you squirming beneath him as he puts all of his weight on you. All 200+ pounds keeping you firmly in place as he fucks you good and deep just how you like.

He's scrambling to get off of you now; a shade of crimson akin to the one he dons at night colors the visible parts of his body, and he clears his throat awkwardly as he helps you to your feet.

"In hindsight, he should've played with one of us," Dick says from the couch. He's gesturing toward you when he continues, "he's just too big in comparison. Throw's everything off."

Jason doesn't hear the second part. His ears start ringing the moment he's reminded that everyone else is aware of how big he is next to you, and he's very quickly calculating how many more rounds of twister he has to go before the two of you can politely duck out and head home for a more...intimate version of the game.

[allllium]

Jason's love language is 100% touch

I don't care what anyone says I know this man has been craving a nice cuddle under a warm blanket for so long

At first he'll put firm boundaries in place, asking you not to touch him in any intimate way, not unless he initiates it

Which makes total sense considering everything he's been through, all the scars on his body that makes him sick to touch

But over time, surprisingly not a long time, he warms up to your touch and even finds himself craving it

It starts small with an arm around your waist and a warm hand placed in yours, but it quickly turns more intimate

Something he never thought he'd have is suddenly there whenever he wants and he doesn't know how to feel about it

He gets more comfortable with things he never thought would be so nice

He lays his head in your lap as you lay on the couch watching TV, showing a kind of vulnerability neither of you ever expected

He starts sleeping without his shirt on and continuously pulls you closer to him

He almost always has a hand on you now

Now that he's comfortable he's not even gonna think twice before keeping his arm around you or laying his hand comfortably on your thigh

He can't even begin to understand why he feels the happiest he's ever been when you do something as simple as playing with his hair or placing your lips to one of his many scars

Safe to say once he gets to this stage, there's no way to go back

p.s he will totally pout the entire day if you lean away from his touch

[axstoria]

Jason Todd taking off his shirt before slipping into bed with you for the first time ever.

He's nervous you'll hate him and the sight of all his marred skin. The 'Y' cut under his pecs and down his stomach stands out like a sore thumb, red and angry despite years of existence.

All his scars are on display: bullet wounds and cuts from knives and glass, some jagged and others sharp. They span his arms and chest, stomach and back, trailing up his neck and face.

Yet, you can't help but see him as the most beautiful boy you've ever laid eyes on, pulling him closer with a hand through his hair.

The tension leaves his body the second he realizes you just don't care about how he looks, melting into your arms like he could find all the solace in the world pressed against your chest. (And maybe he can.)

[phosvye]

Jason Todd is so whipped that he's willing to cave to your silly little advances. Cuddles? With that fluffy Hello Kitty blanket that stretches far and wide on that king mattress of yours? Fuck yes. Buying those overpriced Japanese strawberries? Why not. Buying the whole shelf full of Sanrio plushies? Bitch, take his money. Matching bracelets, matching shirts, matching pajamas? Take it. Take it all. That trend where you wrap pink ribbons around his muscles? Why the fucking fuck not?

That's your boyfriend. Your weak, doting, vigilante boyfriend.

He's also doting in bed—getting you off like he'll die if he can't make you squirt on that chiseled face of his. Holding you down until you just want to crawl away from the overwhelming pleasure. He's doting in a way that has him helping you hoist yourself up on his third fucking leg just to let you slam yourself down until you've thoroughly fucked the remaining intelligence out of that cute brain of yours. Doting in a way where he lets you pull his hair when you just can't take it anymore after cumming for the nth time, or when you bite him wherever.

That's your boyfriend. That's Jason Todd.

[hanasnx]

Hop hop 🐇 hiya bugs :). Can I use my super special Donnie privilege and request 6'11 Jason Todd and biting, Like, just absolutely sinking his fucking teeth in, borderline primal, while that fat cock bullies your pussy. The bites could be anywhere, everywhere, but especially the neck cause he wants to suck on your pulse while his dick fucks an orgasm outta ya and makes ya go limp. Im 4"11 and the size difference makes me dizzy. Work your indy magic if ya wanna but you don't even have to take this if ya dont cause it's um... it's January. My bad for being indecisive tbh. Bye imyyy 👋 🐇 hop hop

MINORS DNI 18+

NOTES: DC is for December Event! | IMPORTANT: do not use my 6’11!jason au without my explicit permission.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you spit, determined to get 6’11!JASON TODD to hear you even while he fills the room with the sounds of skin smacking skin. His monstrous hips plow into you from the back so hard it stings against yours ass, rippling the globes while he’s pinning you to the mattress with his strength and weight. Futilely, you’re bearing that weight, holding yourself up with your claws in the sheets, arching your back to keep your head raised—anything to try and be taken seriously right now. Yet, you flinch with every violent sheath, getting speared on a length so insane it’s unfathomable for it to bottom out without an ache.

You squeeze your eyes shut, choked noises releasing from your throat in pained chuffs, unable to decipher whether you hate it or love it. Your cunt certainly does, sopping around his dick, getting cream all up in his pubes. He has yet to say anything to retort, his teeth having sunk into your neck and remained there. If you think anything is painful about the way he’s fucking you, it’s nothing compared to the concentrated pressure in the most vulnerable part of you. Your exposed jugular latched onto like he’s some animal, fangs sinking into your skin to pin you while he uses you. His massive body spans you nearly twice over, blanketing you in an escapable landscape, having plowed you into a prone bone position from doggy. When you try to turn your head, an attempt to get him to release you, a rough growl of frustration releases from his nose.

For one second, his jaw unlocks, and relief floods in, a breeze hitting that wet and fresh dental print. You can’t see them, but you can feel how deep the indents of his canines are. As quickly as it came, he bites back down for a better grip, and this time you cry out in a moan. The new angle hitting a spot inside you that makes you see stars, while the sensation of the pain heightens the pleasure. You’re not talking shit anymore, instead your cunt is drooling around him while he’s got your life in his mouth.

[luv-lock]

Jason Todd is a smoker .⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀⠀💭

Jason who keeps a pack of cigarettes in the inside pocket of his jacket, right next to a picture of you he swiped from your desk. Not that you’d ever know, because he’s carefully folded it so only he can see your smile.

Jason who refuses to share his lighter with anyone else. It’s not just because it’s his—it’s because your initials are carved into the side, along with a heart he scratched there himself. He says it’s “dumb” and “just a thing he did while bored,” but you know he’d gut anyone who tried to touch it.

Jason who keeps a special pack of cigarettes in his jacket pocket, only for you to see. Each one has a faint, lingering trace of your perfume. He doesn’t even smoke them half the time; he just holds them between his fingers and breathes them in when he misses you too much.

Jason who pulls out a cigarette and pauses, twirling it between his fingers, staring at it with a crooked grin before muttering, “Doll wouldn’t like me smoking this.” He lights it anyway, because he knows you’ll scold him later, and he loves the way your hands curl into fists when you pretend to be mad.

Jason who has a habit of resting the cigarette between his lips while he leans against his bike, waiting for you to finish work, but doesn’t light it until you’re there to steal it from his mouth for yourself. He doesn’t even complain when you do; he just watches, smirking as your lipstick stains the filter. “You’re ruining my tough guy image, doll,” he’ll tease, but his grin says he loves it.

Jason who asks you to hand him a cigarette, just so he can watch your fingers curl around the box. He doesn’t even need one half the time. “C’mon, princess, humor me,” he drawls, leaning back like the cocky bastard he is.

Jason who presses the cigarette to his lips, then stops halfway. “Wait—kiss me first,” he says. “You know it doesn’t taste right if I don’t get one from you.”

Jason who only smokes half a cigarette before flicking it away, mumbling something about how it’s not worth finishing if it doesn’t taste like you.

Jason who hoards all the lipstick stains left behind on the filters, collecting them in a small tin in his room like a damn psychopath. When you find it, he just shrugs. “Don’t judge me. It’s art.”

Jason who lights up only after brushing his lips over yours first, muttering, “You’re the only good thing I wanna taste tonight.”

Jason who keeps your perfume on the nightstand and spritzes it on the collar of his jacket before stepping outside for a smoke. He breathes it in between drags, imagining you’re standing there, rolling your eyes at his bad habits but still staying close.

Jason who buys the most obnoxiously expensive cigars whenever he’s on a mission far from Gotham, not because he likes them, but because he knows they’ll get your attention. “Go on, princess, try it. I know you’re curious,” he’ll say, holding the cigar to your lips like it’s a dare.

Jason who never lets the ash hit the ground when you’re nearby. He stubs it out before you can complain about the smell or give him that look. God, that look—you’re worse than Alfred, but he can’t help loving it.

Jason who swears he doesn’t have an oral fixation, even though he constantly brushes his thumb over his lower lip while watching you. He murmurs, “You’re more addictive than nicotine, you know that?” right before he presses the cigarette back to his mouth, eyes never leaving yours.

Jason who grins every time you scold him for the habit, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Don’t worry, princess. I’m addicted to something much worse than nicotine.” And he doesn’t have to say it, because the way his eyes lock on you, like you’re the only thing that matters, tells you exactly what he means.

Jason who will smoke less if it makes you happy, even though it drives him insane when you ask him to. Says something like, “I’m already a dead man walking, doll. What’s the harm?” But he’ll throw the pack away when you glare at him because he knows you’re right, even if he won’t admit it.

Jason who once tried to quit because you asked him to, and lasted three days before he came back to you, shaking and desperate. "I’ll quit, baby, I swear. Just... just give me time, yeah?" You held him, kissed his temple, and told him you didn’t care as long as he was okay. He’s never loved you more than he did in that moment.

Jason who tastes like smoke and leather when he kisses you—rough and familiar, like coming home after a long day. Who always holds your face a little too long after, like he’s trying to burn the memory of you into his mind.

Jason who, in a rare moment of vulnerability, tells you he only started smoking again after he came back from the dead. "It reminds me I’m alive," he says, exhaling smoke into the moonlight. You lean in, press a kiss to his jaw, and tell him he doesn’t need the cigarettes to prove that.

Jason who tells himself he’ll quit someday. For you. But tonight isn’t that day. So he lights another cigarette and mutters your name like a prayer, the smoke curling around him like a ghost.

Jason who keeps one cigarette in his bedside drawer, untouched and pristine, because it’s the first one you ever kissed for him. He doesn’t smoke it. He never will. It’s a reminder that you’re his, just like every other damn thing in his life.

𝒍𝒖𝒗-𝒍��𝒄𝒌 ☆ 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[harbours-lighthouse]

Jason Todd doesn't know how to love softly. He can't. It's just not in his nature. He died trying to save his mom, despite the fact that she gave him up. That's not a quiet act of love. That’s akin to screaming it.

I love you! I love you! I love you! I will die because of it!

And even when he comes back, he still loves loudly. It's just that love and hate are intertwined. He loves so much that it hurts, and he can't stand it. He loves Bruce and the life he had for such little time, that it hurts and he hates it. He loathes it because he shouldn't care, and yet he does. After everything that's happened, he hasn't forgotten it all.

And then there's you, and he doesn't know what to do. He loves you in a way that hurts, but it feels right.

You feel right.

So it all falls naturally into place. He loves you so much that his body is stumbling to keep up with his heart. You look his way, and you send his thoughts running a mile a minute.

He's not screaming, 'I love you!' over rooftops, but he might as well. He opens doors for you and stands on the right side of the road. He fixes that strange whine in your car and stays up all night with you when you have to study. When you come home after a night out, he's holding your hair back while you're bent over the toilet—not saying anything, but he's there, grounding you. When you kiss him, he grapples you closer to him like you might simply vanish. His eyes crease around the corners when he sees you in the kitchen, humming to yourself. He throws his head back with booming laughter because you bring it out of him.

And when he's out for patrol, he's thinking of you, and it's cost him a few times. He glances down at his watch, and he knows exactly what you're doing at 10 PM. He knows your routine just as intimately as the touch of your fingertips against his skin.

He doesn't buy you flowers, because those die, and chocolates are gone within a week. Maybe less.

So, Jason Todd loves loudly in that private sort of way where only you feel it in all of its intensity. But he loves so loudly that it echoes, and those who know him can see it.

Jason Todd loves loudly because it lasts, and it's heard.

You hear it.

(wc: 425)

© harbours-lighthouse

[petsdenonne]

Accidental Part: 2

(Part 1: Here)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT 18+, Oral, angst, kidnapping.

Word count: 1,000

Summary: After accidentally sending something you weren't supposed to to Jason, it seems it goes on a little further.

✨MASTERLISTS✨

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It had been weeks since your one-night stand.

Well.

Weeks since your “one night stand” in a library. Since then you had a one-night stand with him in your car, his room at the manor, at his apartment, and a few in your place after he’d finished patrol.

Which is what was happening now.

You were lying on your back in your bed, his hands on the back of your thighs as he pushed your knees up into your chest, his mouth down on you as his tongue spread your folds and he sucked on your clit. 

Weak, needy whimpers left your lips as your fingernails once again dug into his scalp, which earnt a low chuckle with a moan at the end of it “God, doll, I’m going to lose hair if you keep tugging so hard” 

“Sorry” You let out a faint chuckle and loosened the grip your fingers had a little, but still kept a firm grip, just not enough to cause premature baldness. 

With a soft smile he carried on working, moaning under his breath at your taste, the hand on the back of your right knee trailed down the back of your thigh. His fingernails scratched at your skin as it went before he left a firm slap on your behind which earned a playful yelp from you. 

His hand then moved to cup his swelling cock through his trousers, a cocky smirk on his face as he worked to free it “Ready, Babygirl?”

—------

“Do you have to go? You could stay the night?” You lay in your bed, duvet draped over your naked body whilst Jason was putting his cargo pants and tact straps back on, double checking that the safety was on his pistols before placing them back in their holsters where they had been knocked from in his haste to strip. “It’s not like this is exactly a one-night stand situation anymore, it kinda specifies in the name that it’s only supposed to be for one night” you added, resulting in a heavy sigh from him.

“This is not a relationship either” 

“What-” 

“I don't want a relationship, Doll, commitment? Having to check in on each other constantly? Not being able to do stuff on our own anymore because society expects us to either do everything together or that we are arseholes if we don't? No, this is just a friends-with-benefits situation and that's all it will ever be” He said sternly and almost word vomited at you, his words hitting you right in the gut which caused you to pull the duvet up tighter around you, making you feel almost ashamed that you were still naked beneath it. 

The soft, sweet Jason you had discovered over the past weeks of closeness that you shared suddenly disappeared and all you had access to was the gruff, rude, and stubborn exterior that everyone had access to, you had lost what was inside and that hurt more than his words, it felt like he no longer trusted you anymore. 

“Good night, okay? Try to sleep. I’ll be going away with Roy for the next week or so, got a contract about a cartel that I need to do, so I won’t be around” He said quietly, pausing for a few moments like he was considering kissing you before putting his helmet back on, but chose not to. Slipping out of your bedroom into the darkness of the hallway without another word, once you heard the living room window that you always left unlocked for him slide shut you couldn't stop the tears from escaping. 

—---------

Lies. All of it had been lies. He wanted all of what he said he didn't, he wanted it with you. He wanted to wear stupid, cheesy matching pyjamas with you. He wanted to go to a store and window shop all of the furniture and decor that you two would pick for your place together, fuck, he wanted a place with you. With ceiling-high bookcases and lamps that were always used instead of the big main ceiling light. He wanted to come home from patrol and see you relaxing on the sofa with a book, he just wanted you, and he wished from the bottom of his heart that he had told you, he wished he wasn’t so scared and trapped in his trauma that he could have admitted it to you instead of lying straight to your face when he had last seen you. The hurt in your eyes as they lost their glow had been stuck in his mind his entire trip. 

And they were stuck in his mind, eating away at him now that you were gone.

Gone. 

Someone had kidnapped you whilst you were walking home from work, according to the CCTV Babs had found they had grabbed you and pulled you into an alleyway and you weren't seen coming out, however, when Tim and Dick turned up you were nowhere to be seen. The only trace anyone had seen of you since was your smashed-up phone that was found 12 streets away from the alley. 

You had gone, and he wasn't there to protect you.

“Come on! There has to be something!” Jason shouted down his comms line to Barbara as he weaved in and out of traffic manically on his bike, his knuckles going white under his gloves from the force of his grip on the handlebars “You have access to every public camera in Gotham, and some private ones, yet you’re telling me you haven't found even a trace of her!?” 

“Jason!” Dick shouted back, scolding his younger brother “We are all trying our hardest to find her, and we will” 

“Sorry, shit, sorry…I just…we need to find her, I need to find her” 

“Hey, It’s okay, I know you’re stressed. You can make it up to me by buying me a pizza” She laughed down the line.

And he would.

He’d buy all the pizza she wanted if she found you.

Tag list:

@igotanidea

[angelfic]

— 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.

[enviedear]

thinking about jason todd finally becoming a family man. a thing he never truly imagined for himself, never let himself imagine. suddenly he’s got a kid on the way and his fuckin’ motorcycle and your ancient ass car aren’t going to cut it. so now he’s out with you, shopping for the most father-like car you two can find. he’s not used to safe vehicles, even in his own youth.

he's always been a man that subscribed to speed, to thrill, to scraping by with just a cocky smirk and a devil may care attitude that expertly shields the far softer crux of himself. a safe car—one with good mileage and enough cup holders—wasn’t something he’d ever imagined himself shopping for. but here he is, standing next to you in a dealership lot, staring at a lineup of SUVs and sedans with an expression that’s somewhere between disbelief and resignation.

“i feel like i’m betraying myself just by being here.” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes flitting over the sensible, family-friendly options. “i mean, a fuckin’ minivan, babe? this is what my life has come to?”

you can’t help but laugh, hooking your arm through his and leaning into his side. “no one said we had to get a minivan, jay. but…maybe something with four doors—and airbags that actually work.”

“you’re really cutting into my image here.” he teases, though his hand falls to rest on your back, steady and warm. there’s a quiet shift in his tone when he adds, “but i guess i’m not just buying for me anymore, huh?”

he glances at you then, at the way you’re glowing in a way that has nothing to do with the afternoon sun overhead. his hand lingers on your back, sliding down to your hip as his lips twitch into something soft. it’s a look that says more than he ever could out loud—that he’s trying, that he wants to be the man you need him to be. for you. for the baby. for this whole new life he’s never let himself dream of, but now wants so desperately to protect.

you squeeze his arm. “well, you know what they say. nothing’s cooler than being a parent.”

“oh, sure.” he snorts. “because every kid wants to say their old man drives a…what is this, a fuckin’ toyota rav4?”

you laugh again, and it’s the kind of sound that grounds him, makes all the self-doubt and second-guessing fade into something bearable, burdens vanquished. he watches you as you step toward one of the cars, peering through the window at the interior.

“this one’s not so bad!” you say over your shoulder. “looks like it could handle groceries, strollers, maybe even a car seat…or two.”

he follows you, resting his arms on top of the door as he leans in to inspect it with you. “you’re really selling me on this whole ‘dad’ thing, you know that?”

you glance at him, your smile softening. “you’re gonna be really good at it, jay. better than you think.”

he doesn’t say anything at first, just looks at you with those steady, blue-green eyes of his. and then, after a second, he nods, jaw tightening like he’s trying to swallow back something thick and emotional.

“yeah,” he agrees quietly. “maybe i will be.”

and for the first time, it all feels real—not just a looming, abstract idea but something solid and tangible. a life, a family, a future he never thought he could have.

🖇️ masterlist | askbox | recent works | moodboard for this drabble

[fear-is-truth]

JASON TODD does not have a soft spot for you.

if anyone asked, that’s what he’d say. flat. absolute.

because he doesn’t.

doesn’t matter that he lets you get away with things that would have anyone else eating pavement. doesn’t matter that when you touch or poke or kiss or bite him, he does nothing to stop you—and when you do stop, there’s something almost like… disappointment.

he most definitely doesn’t go out of his way for you, either. doesn’t swing by that café you like just to bring you your favourite beverage. sure as hell doesn’t automatically search for your face when he enters a room full of people…

no. jason todd does not have a soft spot for you.

(he has a weak spot for you. a vulnerable spot. an achilles heel lodged just behind his sternum, nestled between his lungs—right where a bullet would do the most damage. but never a soft spot.)

[ahqkas]

“NOTHING’S GONNA HURT YOU BABY — jason todd.

PAIRING! jason todd 𝒙 fem!reader SYNOPSIS! your roommate is the menacing red hood — who just happens to have a soft spot for you WORD COUNT! 1.5k WARNINGS / TAGS! roommates jason & reader, cursing, smoking, mention of alcohol consumption, reader is described to wear makeup, use of petnames ( doll ) NOTES! i need a vigilante bf sb. based on this req.!! © ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

THERE IS A STARVED DOG IN THE BACK OF JASON TODD’S THROAT.

It keeps barking, baring its sharp canines at whoever dares to step too close to comfort. It isn’t afraid to bite, to leave permanent marks in its wake because it had been hurt once before and the past hadn’t been so kind. So, it rips things apart, shows its strength to intimidate. A mechanism to keep itself safe. To remain whole.

The dog craves violence and roughness to represent the image it once created. It also craves touch, and not the bittersweet one. The kind that aches to feel, the kind that feels undeserving.

Jason isn’t a violent dog. He doesn’t know why he bites.

He’s chaos wrapped in leather. He’s the rumble of a motorbike tearing down an empty street, the smell of gasoline and adrenaline falling behind him. He’s sharp edges and electricity, the lighting that splits the sky just before the rain comes down. He’s a storm caged in a human shell, unpredictable and restless. Jason is late nights bathed in neon lights and the rush of speed that makes your heart race. He’s fire and fury, a protective shield made of calluses and scars.

You, on the other hand, are the softness in a world that’s far too loud. You’re the quiet that follows the first snowfall, the kind that blankets the earth in white stillness. You’re the warmth of vanilla in a kitchen. You’re the calmness of a gentle breeze, the soft glow of a candle against the darkness. There’s nothing harsh about you; you’re delicate without being fragile, a sweetness that lasts long after you first taste it. You’re a handwritten note, a favorite song played on repeat, kindness that doesn’t ask for anything in return.

Where Jason is a storm, you’re the eye. He’s the clash of thunder, you’re the calmness that follows. He’s leather jackets and combat boots, you’re large sweaters and bare feet on fluffy carpet. He pushes the word back with his fists while you disarm it with your smile.

Maybe that’s why he has such a soft spot for you.

Jason’s large combat boots were heavy on the hardwood as he stepped through the apartment door. He didn’t use one of the windows tonight since he had the luxury to change out of his vigilante clothing. The brown leather jacket still hung from his broad shoulders, but all the other equipment that created the complete look of Red Hood was safely stashed under the stairs of your fire escape.

Red Hood was one side of Jason’s many personalities he tried to shield you from.

He was quiet, mindful of his steps. He avoided the creaking spot on the floor, and he avoided closing the door too roughly. He had told you one too many times that he could take a look at the things that just made your life annoyingly difficult, but you waved him off with sweet words and he obeyed like a man possessed. The apartment was quiet, too quiet for his liking but he shook it off. You were supposed to be out anyway, something about a party your friends dragged you at.

The faint scent of cigarettes hit him before the quiet breeze of the night air rusted the curtains, and Red Hood was instantly on alert. His fingers moved before his mind could even process the situation, feeling the sharpness of his blade tucked in the belf of his pants.

His legs followed, taking him toward the balcony door and stepping outside into the night. He expected anything: a stray cat wandering through various apartments on a hunt for leftovers or even a rookie thief trying to break in. But he didn’t expect you, sitting on a plastic chair with a cigarette between your lips. One his cigarettes.

There you were, knees pulled close to your chest, the heels of your feet digging into the cheap plastic so you wouldn’t fall.

Draped in one of his hoodies he forgot on the couch earlier, you looked like you were ready to call it a day. Still, impossibly beautiful even with that tired look in your eyes. You pulled the cigarette out, puffing a white swirl of smoke into the darkness.

Jason stepped closer, his tall frame easily towering over yours. “You wanna tell me what the fuck you’re doing out here?” The sight of you, your cheeks flushed with alcohol and your hair a little wild from the chill wind, tugged at something buried deep in his chest.

Your glassy eyes met his and your lips tugged into a beaming smile. “Hey, Jason,” you mumbled his name out like it was a melody you hadn’t quite learned yet. “You’re home.”

“Yeah, I’m home. And you’re drunk. Smoking my shit.”

“I stole it from your jacket’s pocket when I did the laundry. I figured you wouldn’t miss one,” you held up the cancer stick towards him, as if to say, ta-da! Look what I found.

You were holding a piece of him. He crouched in front of you, his gloved fingers gently plucking the cigarette from your hand before you could protest. “Smoking’s bad for you, you know. I guess I’m a bad influence for you,” he muttered while his thumb brushed over the filter, the bark of the dog in his throat quieting for a moment. There was a faint pink outline on the white paper. A mark of your lips.

You tilted your head, studying him like you were seeing him for the first time. “You could never be a bad influence.”

Jason didn’t answer right away. His jaw tightened as he put the cigarette against the railing, the faint hiss breaking the silence between you. Then, he flicked it over the edge of the railing, watching the embers spiral down into the darkness below. The city roared faintly beneath you, but here, on this tiny balcony, it was just the two of you.

“You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“Like what?” your brows knitted into the frown he grew to adore.

“That I’m not a bad influence,” his lips twitched, caught between a smirk and something bittersweet. It was all a big joke to him; you didn’t know his true nature and yet here you were defending the man you thought you knew. The irony wasn’t lost on him. “You don’t know me as well as you think, doll.”

Tilting your head to the side, you gazed up at Jason like he hung the moon just for you. The look in your eyes softened. “I know enough, Jay. I know you’d rather jump off this balcony than let anything happen to me. I know you leave food for the stray cat, even though you complain how she’s too noisy at night. And I know that when you’re quiet like this,” you bumped your knee against his, trailing slightly into a quieter tone of your voice, “it’s because you’re hiding something.”

The dog inside Jason growled lowly, warning him to keep his guard up. To start building thicker walls around his bleeding heart. This would only end in tears and anguish. But you weren’t barking back. You held your heart in an open palm, extended toward him.

You leaned forward after a minute of his silence, hand brushing against his knee, and Jason stiffened. “You’re not mad, right? About the cigarette” you voiced your thoughts hesitantly.

Jason sighed, running a hand through the dark strands of his hair. “I should be. But seeing you out here like this . . . ” he trailed off, his eyes flickering over your face and cataloging every single detail. The flush on your cheeks and glass in your eyes. The aftermath of alcohol. “I can’t be mad. Just–don’t do it again, okay? You don’t need to mess with that shit.”

Your lips parted like you were about to argue, but then you closed them again, nodding slowly. Jason exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, the tension in his shoulders easing ever so slightly. He stood up, holding out a calloused hand to you. “Come on. Let’s get you inside before you catch a cold out here.”

You stared at his hand for a moment before slipping your smaller one into it. His grip was warm, steady, and for a fleeting moment, you wondered if he could feel the way your pulse quickened under his touch. He didn’t let go as he led you back into your shared apartment, the door clicking shut behind the two of you.

The dog in his chest stirred, restless and uneasy. It barked once, softly, a reminder of all the ways he could ruin this. He swallowed hard, his throat dry, his jaw tightening against the weight of it. The dog craved destruction, violence, and chaos—it had always craved those things. But now, as he watched you drunkenly lean into him, the dog hesitated.

It whimpered. Then it lay down, its teeth still bared but its growl silenced, if only for tonight. Because for the first time in a long time, Jason felt something strange, something almost unfamiliar.

It wasn’t the absence of violence or the dull ache of longing. It was the quiet hope that maybe, just maybe, there was something in this world he didn’t have to break to keep.