#Red Hood imagine

[ebodebo]

Dinner, Dinner!

—jason misses your anniversary dinner, but makes it up to you…MDNI

"Would you like to browse our dessert menu, madam?" The waiter asks in a thick French accent as he stretches his arm out to pour your second glass of wine.

Your brain is fogged as your fingers fiddle with the stem of the glass as you swirl the crimson liquid around, splashing all sides of the glass. 

"Madam?" The waiter repeats. You hadn't even realized you hadn't answered his previous question. You flick your eyes to his.

"I…um—sorry, can you repeat the question?" Your mind is clouded with a storm of fury and hurt. Jason, your boyfriend, had forgotten your anniversary dinner, leaving you to endure the sympathetic glances of strangers as they noticed the empty seat across from you.

"Of course, madam. I asked if you would like to see the dessert menu," the waiter repeats, his voice a distant echo. You turn your head to the empty seat in front of you, the thought of enduring the restaurant's atmosphere a daunting prospect. 

"Could I just have the cremé brûlée?" You finally ask, your eyes still fixed on the empty seat, your voice trembling slightly. "In a to-go box, please."

It was the first dessert you and Jason shared at this very restaurant, three years ago today. 

"Of course," the waiter said curtly, turning slightly before you raised your voice.

"And, um, could you take the other wine glass?" You awkwardly ask. He simply nods again, carefully placing the stem between his index and middle fingers upside down before turning away to tend to another table.

You should just leave.

It was clear he wasn't coming.

A light smile etched into your face as the waiter set the to-go box with the fancy dessert. You carefully reached into your purse, steadily gripping your wallet to pay. The waiters brought his hands up, shaking his head side-to-side.

"Please. No payment is necessary, madam. Enjoy the dessert," he says kindly. You sniffle, a stray tear falling down your face. You nod gently, issuing a strained, 'Thank you.'

He curtly nods, turning to go back into the kitchen. You gather your things, including the dessert, and move to walk out of the front door.

Upon stepping outside, you are met with the cold Gotham air. Your dress even sways in the wind as you walk, and your heels clank against the pavement. 

The walk home wasn't too long, maybe six minutes or so, but God, did it feel like an eternity. All you could think about was how hurt and disappointed you were and what you would say to Jason when you inevitably saw him.

Your brain tried to conjure all the reasons he didn't show.

Did he forget, or did he purposefully not come?

Now, you knew it couldn't be the latter, Jason wasn't a dick. 

He was just an idiot. 

Your thoughts continued as you stuck your key in the lock and carefully twisted it to unlock your front door, pushing it open quickly.

You set your purse down on a table next to the door, glancing at a framed photo of you and Jason happily eating ice cream on Jason's birthday last year.

You felt sick.

You quickly flick your attention away as your eyes begin to well with hot tears, easing your way into the kitchen. You stand on the cold tile for a minute before getting a sudden inspiration rush.

You didn't want to think about him any longer tonight. You'd prepare a hot tea, watch a movie, or perhaps even read a good book. 

Yes. That sounded like a fine plan.

As you were steeping the leaves in hot water, a knock on the front door pulled your attention away. You left the bag to steep and returned to the door. Pulling the door open, you were met with Red Hood—aka your boyfriend, Jason—gripping a bouquet of fresh flowers.

You're tempted to slam the door in his pretty face, but you don't—not yet, anyway.

"I'm an asshole," he says, his voice distorted from his modulator. 

The sight was ridiculous; if you weren't so pissed, you'd laugh.

He realizes the absurdity of the situation. "God damn, fuckin' helmet," he irritably gruffs, ripping off his helmet. Your eyes widen, your mouth hanging open. 

Anyone could simply walk by and figure out who the highly sought-after vigilante was.

"Jason, you can't just—get inside!" You grip his arm, dragging him inside the confines of your home—an action you immediately regret. 

"Fuck, baby," he begins. "I'm—I'm so sorry," his tone is sincere as he anxiously drags his hands through his hair. 

"I looked like an idiot, Jason," you breathe out, reaching for the bouquet of flowers he brought. 

Hell, it wasn't their fault Jason was stupid. 

"I know—" he says, following you into your kitchen as you fill a vase with water for the flowers.

"A fucking idiot," you snap, setting the flowers gently into the water. You reach for a pair of scissors. "I requested an extra wine glass when I sat down, and I had to be the one to tell him to take it away," you angrily say, snipping some of the leaves off.

"Baby, I'm really, really sorry. I got caught up with—"

"Where were you?" You set the scissors down, turning to look at him.

"Dick needed some help scouting a potential crime circuit in Blüdhaven," he sighs. "He told me it wouldn't take long. Should've known better," he wipes his hand over his face, hissing at the contact.

Your eyes sweep over his face, taking note of the fresh cuts and bruises that now taint his face. Fresh blood prickled from some; others were caked in layers of it.

"Are you hurt?" You ask, concern lacing your words.

He raises a brow. "Don't worry about me, Sweetheart. I'll be alright. I'm more concerned about you," he admits honestly. 

"You're bleeding," you observe, wincing at the sight.

"Just a hair," he lightly smiles. "I'm okay."

Sure, you were pissed at your boyfriend, but you wouldn't let him be in agony like he was. 

He was bleeding, for God's sake.

"Let me clean them up," you simply say.

"No, no. I'm fine—" he began, shaking his head lightly.

"Please," you insist.

He huffs, then accepts defeat. He takes your hand stretched out and follows you to the bathroom. He sits on the toilet as you fumble through your medicine cabinet to gather band-aids and Neosporin. 

"I hope it's okay. I, um, only have these band-aids," you awkwardly say, holding up a box with a familiar blue hero on the cover. 

"Baby, why do you have Nightwing band-aides?" He questions skeptically.

"Dick brought them to white elephant last year, and I got stuck with them," you lightly laugh. "He's a horrible gift-giver."

Jason laughs. "Promise to remind me to take them off before I leave. He cannot see me with these on. He'd have a damn field day," he grumbles as you laugh. 

"I promise I'll remind you," you affirm, pulling a small step ladder in front of him so you could sit before carefully squirting a bit of the ointment out onto your pointer finger and pressing it to each of Jason's cuts.

He barely winces or whines as you continue the action, delicately tending to each cut. His eyes wander to yours, focusing heavily with determination on what you are doing, even sticking your tongue out to concentrate. 

"I don't deserve this," he heaves as you open some band-aids.

"What? To have ten Nightwing band-aides on you all at once?" You laugh, carefully laying each of the band-aids over the cuts.

He snickers. "That and you taking care of me."

You pull back slightly. "What?"

"I ruined our anniversary tonight. I left you alone in that restaurant and, look at you, still taking care of me," he exasperates. "I don't deserve you."

You frown. "Don't say that. I mean, ya, it was shitty, but just because you did something shitty one time or even twice doesn't make you undeserving of my love, Jason," you gently say, fingers moving to caress his jaw on their own volition. 

He leans into your hand. "I just don't want to lose you. I love you."

Jason and you have exchanged hundreds, if not thousands, of "I love yous" throughout your relationship, but this one felt different. 

It felt more like a sacred prayer spilling from his lips—a tender plea from the depths of his soul. It felt all that much more divine.

You found yourself leaning to kiss his lips, your hands moving to thread through his hair. His lips instantly moved with yours, and his hand gripped your cheek.

It was a tender kiss—an 'I'm sorry,' wrapped in an 'It's okay.'

As the seconds passed, the kiss became more fervent—urgent. You even slipped off the step ladder and moved onto Jason's lap. He welcomed you with open arms, encasing you tightly with each of his hands on your hips as you straddled him.

Your hands glided through his hair messily and eagerly as his hands massaged the fat of your hips. You let out a whine that Jason catches as he slips his tongue in your mouth.

You find yourself rocking against him, desperate for friction. He groans, gripping your thighs tightly as he stands with you, guiding you towards your bedroom.

Never once did your lips disconnect.

He gently lays you on the bed as he hastily sheds his boots, armored jacket, gloves, and pants. Your breathing is labored as you follow suit, gingerly slipping off your simple black dress and kicking off your heels, revealing your matching red bra and pantie set you had worn.

Jason stands in front of you in nothing but his boxers, eyes soaking you in.

"What?" You question nervously, feeling self-conscious with his eyes so focused on you. 

"Did you—did you wear that for me?" He asks lazily.

Your lips quip. "Duh. Who else?" You giggle. "You like it?"

He lets out a dry laugh, moving to hover over your body, sticking his arm out to stabilize himself so as not to crush you. "I think I need to take a closer look," he cheekily says, moving his mouth closer to the strap of the bra, taking it between his teeth, pulling a little, then flicking it back. You let out a small whine, feeling the fabric snap back on your skin.

"Sure is sturdy," he observes, fingers coming to slip it down your shoulder. "And a nice color," he murmurs into your shoulder, sending goosebumps down your arm.

"Ya?" You idly question as his lips skim your collarbone.

"Mhm. It's very nice, Baby," he mumbles into your skin, fingers moving to skim the band of your panties. "And these," he begins. "Don't even get me started." He lightly nips your skin with his teeth, eliciting another whine. 

His fingers slip under the band, pulling them down so they sit around your lower thighs. "Ah, there she is," he coos, cupping your dripping cunt with his hand.

"Jason," you moan, pushing yourself into his hand more.

"What, Baby?" His words were low and dragged out, almost breathy.

"I—I need more," you groan, hand moving to rest on his hand on you, encouraging more movement from him. 

"I'll do you one better," he takes his hand away, making you frown, though he moves to slip his boxers down, showcasing his erect cock. 

He strokes himself once before guiding himself into your entrance, leaning down to kiss your temple lightly as he pushes himself inside your cunt. You hiss at the contact, gripping his shoulders tightly.

He groans as one of his hands comes to grip behind your neck, and the other moves to lift your leg up slightly so he can grip your thigh, giving a better angle as he moves at a consistent pace.

A desperate mewl escapes your mouth as his pace fastens. Jason's hand has moved to rest on your breast in your bra as he throws his head back, groaning and spewing curses.

You sit up slightly, gripping his neck, pulling him down to your lips. He kisses you roughly, even sucking your bottom lip in the process. You bring your leg up to wrap around his torso, pushing him even more deeply; he groans as his hand slides to grip the hinge of your leg.

"Jay, I'm gonna—" You begin breathlessly.

"I know, Baby. I know," he purrs into your mouth. "Feel so good."

You grip his neck tighter, lips pressing into his shakily, as you feel yourself tighten around him. All you have had to do was moan his name into his mouth to have him following suit, even moving one hand to grip the sheets beneath as he comes.

You're both gasping for air. Jason eases himself out of you and plops beside you, pulling you close so your face rests on his chest.

"As far as orgasms go, that one was great," you pant, fingers moving to trace the lines between Jason's abs.

"Ya? Do I get a golden star?" He tuts, fingers playing with your hair.

"Sorry, Babe. I only give golden stars for extra credit," you jest, looking up at him.

"Extra credit, you say?" He asks, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. "I think I can do that." He lifts up abruptly, getting off the bed.

"What're you—" You begin to question before he's tugging you towards him by your ankles, planting his face in between your legs.

"Jay!" You shriek, though make no effort to move as his tongue lapses at your sensitive clit.

"I really want that golden star," he mumbles into you.

a/n: finally finished this fic that has been haunting my drafts for months upon months ( ͡ಥ ͜ʖ ͡ಥ)

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[dollishmehrayan]

# HOW BATBOYS REACT TO YOU WEARING THEY'RE COLOR ── .✦ ( eg. nails, clothes, anything ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ )

a/n: so I first did a small idea of this (here) and then I thought why not do it based off this anon (here) so yeahh, anyways I kinda fell so off course like genuinely I need to make more batboys content, tags: (batboys x reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Dick notices instantly. He’s hyper-aware of the blue.

“Wait, are those nails painted Nightwing blue? Babe, did you do that for me?” Cue the biggest grin you’ve ever seen.

Compliments you non-stop. He’s not subtle about how much he loves it.

“You’re really pulling off my color, you know. Almost makes me think you’re trying to steal my spotlight.”

Gets extra touchy holding your hand, brushing your hair back, etc. “You’re so cute I can’t even deal right now.”, “It’s just blue and black colored nails dick.”

If it’s a clothing piece, he’ll joke, “Matching outfits for day? Say the word, and we’ll be Gotham’s most fashionable duo.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Jason notices but plays it cool at first. “Nice color choice,” he says casually, though he’s dying and resurrecting inside.

If it’s your nails “You’re carrying my whole brand on those hands. Should I start paying you royalties?”

If it’s clothing, “Careful, babe, wearing red this well might make you a target and you might be mistaken for me.” But his smirk shows he’s all for it.

Low-key proud you’re repping his colors but doesn’t know how to express it well. Might just stare a little longer than usual.

Ends up pulling you closer while murmuring, “You look good in my color. Too good.”

Secretly starts thinking of ways to return the gesture, like wearing something in your favorite color. (He’s hoping it’s not absurd neon colors😭)

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Blushes immediately. He’s not even subtle about it. “Wait… is that red because of… me?”

Obsesses over the details. “Did you match your nails to the exact shade of my suit? That’s, like, the coolest thing ever.”

Super flustered but also unbelievably touched. “I didn’t know you liked my colors that much.”

If it’s a clothing item, he’d be stunned for a moment before saying, “You look so… wow. You’re killing it.”

Gets a little shy but can’t stop glancing at you all day. Ends up fiddling with your hand if it’s your nails.

Might text you later "Thanks for making my day with that. You didn’t have to, but I really, really loved it.”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Notices instantly but acts unimpressed. “Hmph. So you’re inspired by me today?”

Low-key thrilled but refuses to let you know. If it’s your nails, he might sarcastically say, “Subtle.” But he’s secretly staring.

If it’s clothing, “Green suits you. Perhaps you should wear it more often.” It’s his way of saying you look amazing.

After some time, he’ll let his walls down. “It’s not awful… You look better in my colors than I do.”

Will absolutely brag to Alfred or the others about it later. “Clearly, they understand quality when they see it.”

Ends up gifting you something else in his colors—maybe a scarf or bracelet—just to see you wear it again.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Bruce notices immediately but doesn’t say much at first. He’ll just give you that classic Bruce Wayne smirk.

If it’s clothing, he’ll subtly comment, “You look good in black. Suits you.” (High praise from him)

If it’s nails, he’ll gently take your hand and examine them. “Interesting choice. Are you sending a message, or…?”

Deep down, he’s really touched but doesn’t know how to express it. Might make a dry joke like, “So you’re my sidekick now?”

Later, when you’re alone, he’d admit, “It’s nice seeing you in something that reminds me of… us.”

Low-key loves the idea of you wearing his colors often. He’d never say it outright, but his actions like buying you more black and yellow pieces make it clear (to a point half your dresses were either black or yellow even you’re gold jewelry has yellow hints and accents😭😭)

[strangepoppy]

Aw, he is so cute 🥺

Banished

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason misses his girlfriend

warnings: extremely mild angst, he’s just mopey (he’s fine)

Jason sits slumped over the kitchen island, head lying in his crossed arms. His now soggy cereal disregarded after barely a few bites.

Dick’s been rummaging through the cabinets for the better part of twenty minutes while Tim has sat atop of the nook table shoving donuts in his mouth for the better part of thirty.

Damian trudges into the room, past them and onto the nook bench, taking out a knife and beginning to whittle away at a block of wood.

He glances at Jason with a scowl. “If you’re going to be so miserable, can’t you do it in your own home?”

Jason just grunts.

He wishes. You and Bruce had conspired to trap him at the mansion for the week so he could heal from injuries sustained during the last mission without risk of him suiting up and sneaking away from you in the middle of the night.

But it’s not even the fact that he’s basically being babysat that’s got him so disgruntled. He secretly wouldn’t really mind it at all if you were here too. But you were dead set that the manor was too far out of your way for work, so you’d stayed behind. A lose-lose for Jason.

“He’s just mad his girlfriend kicked him out,” Dick teases, swiping through the fridge.

Tim snorts from the doorway, “Me too. He’s a lot more depressing on his own.”

Jason keeps his head down as he blindly reaches for the spoon in his cereal and chucks it at Tim’s head.

Tim catches it without thought, continuing, “A lot more irritable, at least. Why isn’t she here?”

“She’s gotta work,” Dick says, scanning through the pantry.

Damian peeps his head up from his project. “But Todd has a rather large supply of less than legally obtained money, does he not?”

“Yeah, but she said she wants to pay her own rent, I think,” Dicks hums, finally giving up on his quest for a snack.

Damian pauses.

“So she wants to live in a tiny apartment?” He asks, a mixture of confused and horrified.

“Watch your mouth,” Jason mumbles.

“It was a genuine question!” Damian protests, face screwed up.

Jason finally lifts his head up, turning to his little brother with a raised brows. “And I’m genuinely going to break your nose.”

It’s an empty threat, maybe. But it was enough to shut Damian up anyways. Jason turns back to his cereal and swishes the bowl around.

Dick rests his arms on the counter across from Jason and speaks lowly. “You know, it is just a few days. She’s coming back.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Jason was never one for showing his feelings—let alone talking about them.

He misses you, plain and simple. Dick could see that much clearly, though the longing looked unfamiliar on Jason.

Bruce lingers in the hallway, just past the island, listening.

He’ll admit (to himself) that he’s worried about Jason. It’s been three days and Jason has yet to show a crack in this demeanor. And while it’s not uncommon for him to stow himself away, there is something quite wrong with the way he hasn’t countered his brother’s jabs at him or teased them.

And while he could do without the blatant threats, he’s proud to hear his son defending his girlfriend, even over trivial things. It’s one of the few moments where he feels like he did right by him as a father.

And now here’s his son, caring about someone else more than he cares about himself. Someone who’s a good person, no less. It had been your idea to trick Jason into staying at the manor, you were scared that he would push his body past its limit when you couldn’t do anything to help.

Bruce knew you didn’t feel great about basically banishing him for the week but he could see that you just wanted what was best for Jason. He could see it so clearly. Maybe Bruce could never have been a perfect father, could never have given his son everything he needed despite having more money than he could ever use. Maybe he couldn’t help him, even now.

But you could.

Bruce peers around the corner, leaning up against the doorframe.

He watches Damian give up on carving at his block and start into the leg of the table.

He watches the bickering that broke out after Tim grab the last glazed donut, which was apparently the only thing Dick could possibly fathom eating.

And he watches Jason.

As Jason’s phone lights up on the counter next to him. He glances down at it with a frown before his face absolutely lights up.

He scrambles to pick the phone up and starts typing away. A quiet action that catches the attention of all of his brothers.

He types and types, waits for ten seconds for a response and types and types again—smile on his face.

The Waynes didn’t need to be the greatest detectives in the world to know who he was texting.

✨ reblog fics or face the block button ✨

[sanguineterrain]

hello! are requests open? 😅 i’d like to request for a drabble with a newlywed jason and yn if so!

sure thing! short and sweet <3 jason todd x gn!reader. newlywed fluff.

****

"Okay, toaster from Wade and Logan. Keep or give away?"

"Who the fuck are Wade and Logan?" Jason asks, upside down on the couch. His tie and suit jacket are gone, two buttons on his shirt undone.

"Dunno. I think Roy invited them."

Jason sighs. "Give away. Why did people give us so many toasters?"

You both look at the four toaster boxes in front of you.

"Maybe it's the fashionable thing to have toasters in every room," you say.

You put the fifth toaster in the pile. You didn't even have a toaster on the registry.

"We should give them their toasters back when they get married," Jason says.

"That would be extremely funny, and I'm always ready to commit to the bit."

"I know. 'S why I married you."

That makes you giddy. You look at the ring on your left hand.

"Dude, I can't believe you actually married me," you say.

"I can't believe you're calling me 'dude.' Did I marry a frat boy?"

You grin at Jason. "I love you, man."

"Ridiculous. Gimme my ring back."

"Nope!" You slide to the floor and sit criss-crossed in front of Jason. He folds his arms. You kiss him, mouths slotting oddly due to him being upside down.

You pull away. "No take-backsies."

"Curses!" Jason shakes his fist. "Beaten by the take-backsies rule once again."

You shrug. "I guess you're stuck with me for the foreseeable future."

"Guess so."

He rolls onto his side, so he's lying on the couch properly. He leans in for another kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss with all your might. Jason tugs you up onto the couch so you're atop him. You sit up on your knees, straddling his stomach. You take his left hand.

"Dude, you look really hot in this wedding ring," you say.

"Not as hot as you, babe."

"Way hotter," you say and suck his neck. Jason holds you steady with a hand on the small of your back.

"Tryin' t'maul me? Thank God pictures are done." He doesn't push you away, not even a little.

"Marriage turns me on, broski. I love a man who'll enter a legal contract with me."

"You're a freak," Jason says. "I love you."

You sit up and grin. "I love you too, J.T. Morgan."

He pulls a face. "That's worse than broski."

"Is it, though?"

"It's actually the worst thing I've ever been called," Jason says, deadpan. "My first day as your husband and I'm already being bullied."

"I was bullying you way before you became my husband, J-dog."

"Now you're just saying anything."

"Fine." You lean in so close that your perception warps, and Jason's face looks like it's in a fish-eye camera. "How 'bout I call you pretty boy?"

"Hm." He shifts the way he does when he's getting flustered. "I'll allow it."

"Sweet boy? Angel? Honey bunches? Handsome? Love of my life?"

He clears his throat. "Any of those will do fine, yeah."

You grin and kiss his cheek, watching as Jason pulls that soft, shy smile. The same smile he gave you when you said "I do." You'll never forget it.

You snuggle into his chest. Jason wraps his arms around you, throwing a leg over yours.

"What about the gifts?" he asks.

You shrug. "They can wait. Right now, I'm spending quality time with my husband."

His arms tighten around you. "Now that's a name I'll definitely never get tired of being called."

[thargelalia]

see you in hell, baby

jason todd x fem!reader

Dick naively expects Jason to help him stay in your good graces as the MVP brother-in-law

-> 1.4k words

-> fluff, poor attempt at humor

-> warnings: none, the dynamic duo being dorks together perhaps?

please, reblog if you like or the author will cry

There's nothing better than to enjoy the vast collection of classics at the Wayne Manor library on a rare peaceful Sunday afternoon.

Or is it?

“Jaybird, hey!” Dick greets his younger brother, a little more excited than usual, as he saunters into the library. “Have you.. uhh, is my BFF around?” 

He’s scanning around the place like you could emerge from behind the couches or bookshelves at any given moment. Judging by his tone, Jason can already tell Dick wants something, choosing to ignore him, too immersed in his current book. 

Dick looks left and right to the hallway before closing the doors, and joining Jason on the leather couch. The latter finally acknowledged his older brother to get this over with, so he can leave and Jason can read in peace. 

“She went to the bathroom.. why?” Jason says, narrowing his eyes inquisitively at Dick’s fidgeting. A fake smile plastered on his face, sweat bidding on the temple. He’s obviously worried about something. “You’re being weirder than usual.. Got your pants stuffed with itching powder again?”

His lips twitch upwards a little at the memory. 

“No, I— please, don’t ever remind me of that day.” Dick winces, rubbing on his thigh to soothe an imaginary itch. Steph really goes all in on April Fool’s Day.

He clears his throat. “So, uh.. maybe, just maybe… I might’ve accidentally scratched that Beatles record sis-in-law lent to me last week.”

Jason exhales, contemplating whether he should ease Dick’s mind or not. While you were very careful and protective of your vinyl record collection, depending on which one that got damaged – and the extent of it – you might get a little upset, but let it go without much trouble. 

Not before an hour lecture to the culprit about taking better care of other people’s stuff, of course. 

“As long as it’s not Sergeant Pepper’s, you’ll be fine.” Jason shrugs, then chuckles to himself a little as he opens his book again. “Perhaps a kick or two to your shins.”

The silence that follows is pregnant with guilt. Jason can almost smell it in the air at the way his brother blanches next to him. 

“Fuck. Don’t tell me—”

“It was an accident!”

“Dick, you insane?! It was a gift from her grandmother!” Jason chastises, smacking the book shut with a hard thud. “You damaged an original copy from the seventies, you fucking idiot!”

Dick slides down on the couch, a pout taking over his lips. “I know!” 

“Can’t believe she let you borrow it.” Jason huffs, crossing his arms while shaking his head indignantly.

Dick has his hands on his head, about ready to rip his hair out.

“I know! What do I do now??”

“Well… for starters,” Jason begins dead serious, leaning towards Dick, who straightens his posture, desperate to hear a solution, “when was the last time you updated your last will and testament?”

“Shit.” Dick falls into the cushions, a desolated sigh leaving the depths of his soul. “Not helping, man.”

“Maybe Bruce can recycle my gravestone,” Jason continues, tapping his chin in fake thought, “what about an epitaph? Sure you’ve got some ideas.”

As always, any comment remotely related to his death has all the bats squirming or tensing like they’ve been poked by Catwoman’s sharp claws – which most of them have, in fact. They tend to feel uneasy whenever Jason makes his grim jokes. 

And perhaps that’s exactly why he does it. 

“Please, don’t talk like that,” Dick says softly, furrowing his eyebrows. Then, he changes his demeanor completely. “And yes, I do. Here lies Gotham’s hottest piece of ass. S.I.P.”

Jason gives him an unimpressed look, lifting his eyebrow. “S.I.P?”

His brother smiles as if he was dying to be asked that. “Sashay in peace.”

“Hope you make a safe passage, disco queen.” Jason deadpans. “Make sure to head straight to heaven, though. Don’t wanna put up with your glittery ass in hell, too.” 

Dick seems to suddenly remember why he was there in the first place. He grabs his younger brother by the shoulders, and shakes. “This is serious, Jaybird! What now? I’ll lose my ‘favorite brother-in-law’ privileges!”

Jason kisses his teeth in annoyance, immediately releasing himself from Dick’s grasp, and pushing on his chest with zero delicacy. “You never had those.” 

Anyone other than Dick — and Bruce — would’ve splattered themselves on the cushions at being on the receiving end of Jason’s hard shove, but his older brother only tilts back, and recovers his posture like a roly-poly toy, in an impressive display of sheer core strength.

“Yes, I did. I do. Remember her last seminar? She only had one other seat aside from yours, and she chose to invite me.” He points at himself, sounding smug. “And what about the wine she got me from her trip to France? Or the tequila from Mexico, huh?”

“The others aren’t old enough to drink.” Jason points out, groaning as he massages his temples. This conversation is getting tiresome. Baby, where are you? He thinks in exasperation. Dealing with his family outside patrol is easier when you’re right next to him.

Dick freezes, his index finger lifted in the air. 

He lowers it, closing his mouth. 

Then, he raises it again, attempting to hide his wounded pride. 

“That’s not the point! The point is—”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” Jason cuts him off, waving impatiently before he adds dryly, “too late for that, though. Replacement joined her Public Health research group last month. She’s invited him to dinner at our place twice now, unfortunately.”  

There’s a shocked gasp. 

“Not to mention the little demon asking her for help with his school projects, even though everyone knows he’s damn well capable of handling himself.”

An even bigger gasp leaves Dick’s lips, this time followed by a dramatic hand to his chest.

Jason rolls his eyes. “Will you fucking stop?”

“I need to amp up my game. Urgently.”

“Good luck with that. Not sure you can—”

Jason’s interrupted by the sound of the doors opening. The scowl on his face immediately dissolves into a relieved look at your return. Meanwhile, his brother appears as if he’s staring at a ghost.

You smile, tipping your head up. “Hey, Dick! What’s up?”

“Heeey, bestie!” He shoots up from the couch, sounding extremely unnatural as he glances at the watch on his wrist. “I–um.. Damn! I gotta pick up Babs at her friend’s house now. See you guys later!”

With a quick kiss to your cheek, he breezes past you and out the doors like he’s suddenly been possessed by Wally West.

“What was that?” You turn from the door to your boyfriend, giving him a puzzled look.

Jason contemplates for a brief moment whether he should tell the truth or not. More out of concern over you, as he’d hate to upset you, than over Dick’s sake obviously. But if you found out later that he knew about this fuckup, he’d join his brother’s body in the graveyard. And Jason is very much enjoying his second chance at life right now.

“Dick ruined your Sergeant Pepper’s record.” Just as predicted, he doesn’t feel the slightest bit of remorse for snitching on his older brother. Jason wishes he’d broken the news in a better way, but he let his eagerness for throwing Dick under the bus override his judgment.

Much to his surprise, you don’t show any expressive reaction aside from the slight purse of your lips. 

“You’re talking about the scratch?” You ask simply, joining him on the burgundy couch as he opens an arm to envelop you in a half embrace.

He tilts his head to rest against yours. “You’ve seen it already?”

“It was there before he got it. Probably happened during my last move out.”

“Oh. Oh.” 

“Poor Dick. I told him my grandma loved that record… He must be feeling like trash.” A sigh escapes your lips as you lean against Jason’s chest. “You should probably tell him when he comes back.”

“Baby, I’m not telling anything.” Jason laughs wickedly, taking your hand in his large one and bringing it up to his lips. The tender kiss offers a stark contrast against the disapproval in his tone. “Serves him right for not being watchful enough.”

“You’re so evil, Jace.” You tilt your head up, so he can see the playful glint in your eyes. “There’s no place for you in heaven, you know that, right?” 

Jason eyes you in disbelief. “Are you planning on telling him?” 

The pressing of your lips together is already enough to answer him – a futile attempt to conceal a mischievous smile. 

“That’s what I thought.” He pulls you to sit sideways on his thighs, arms tightening around your waist as he leans in to kiss your neck. Lips lingering there as his voice lowers in a way that makes you shiver when he says, “guess we’ll both be sharing Satan's throne as you sit on my lap in hell, baby.” 

A/N: I wanna be Jason's boo, and Dick's bestie so bad y'all!!

Remember to reblog, and let me know your thoughts if you liked. It helps me stay motivated to post on here <33

divider is from here

[isavulpix]

Jason Todd Headcanons

Teacher!Reader x Jason Todd

Hi! So I’m new at writing, but couldn’t sleep last night thinking about this so decided to write it down.

Warnings: My first language isn’t English so there will be errors, I haven’t read a comic beside the webtoon one so Jason may be a bit OOC sorry.

* Okay so y’all meet in Lian school, why? Well one day Roy couldn’t pick up Lian after school so he asked Jason to do him the favor and of course Jason said yes. It was the best chance to prove he was a much more fun uncle than Dick.

* But the plan didn’t go that well, he forgot he can’t ride a motorcycle with a little kid so he had to go get the Wayne SUV, making him late to pick up Lian from school.

• So there you where in your classroom with Lian waiting for Jason to pick her up. She tells you stories about her dad, and Jason while she colors and you grade some papers.

• The first thing he sees when he finally arrives is a adorable frowning Lian question him about his tardiness. How dare he pick her up late?

• While he says his sorry to Lian and tickles her tummy to make her laugh, he remembers about the other adult in the room and turns to you to apologize. As he does, he feels like the air has suddenly stop flowing in his lungs anymore because…WHO IS THIS GORGEOUS WOMAN SMILING AT HIM?

• After the hamster in his brain starts to run again he remembers that you are Lian teacher and quicky get himself together. He can’t be catch being shock about your beauty, but seriously. Why are you so pretty? Back when he was a kid his teachers where old ladies.

• You tell him he doesn’t have to apologize with a small smile on your face and his heart skips a beat. Why are you so nice? You should be angry or annoyed because he made you waste time, but you reassure him that even if he wasn’t late to pick up Lian you where gonna still be here grading papers and checking the classes for the next day.

• And Jason thinks wtf? Working after work hours? Teachers aren’t paid enough, he should make Tim hack into Gotham bank account and get the teacher a raise, but says his goodbyes along Lian who is still pouting a little and Jason sighs…

• Jason had to bribe Lian with ice cream so she will speak more about her pretty teacher…and doesn’t tell Roy about all this.

[threestarsinline]

The Word of Your Body

Jason Todd x reader one shot

Summary: Jason comes back from patrol, but something is keeping his mind still somewhere out there. You're always there to bring him back and let him know he's safe. At home. With you.

Word Count: 5.8K

Category: Angst-ish because Jason is going through it but fluff because reader is there to comfort him

Warnings: Jason having a bad time

Author’s note: I know, I know, three fics in one year?? Who am I? Jsjksks truly an achivement for me, very happy and very proud hehe. Thank you for sticking with me and supporting my fics, I love you all. That said, enjoy!

It’s really incredible how much one can know about a person just by their body. From the way they move, to how they carry themselves, to the small gestures that they make in their day to day that reflect who they are, to the little telltale signs of how they’re feeling. A smile, a wrinkle between the eyebrows, a twitch of their hand.

And not just the movements of the body but you can also learn a lot from the singularities and marks that one has on their skin. A child with a scrape on their knee from running too fast on the playground. A chef with hundreds of small cuts on their hands from mastering the use of a knife. A ballet dancer with wounded toes. A painter with watercolors under their nails. A piano player with soft and delicate hands.

You can have a lot of information about a person just by observing them, knowing how they move and how their body reacts to things. A flinch from fear at the threat of danger. A shiver at the gentle touch of a lover.

That’s how you immediately know that something’s wrong when Jason returns from patrol. And you don’t even need to see him.

You’re reading in bed when you hear him come in. Always waiting up for him whenever you can. It isn’t difficult for you since you’ve always preferred staying up late rather than waking up early. Unless you have something to do early the next morning, you always wait for him to come home, to come to you, liking to see him as soon as he returns to make sure that he’s made it back to you safe and sound.

You either read or watch something on TV while you wait despite how many times he’s told you that you don’t have to wait up for him, that you should sleep. And every time you shake your head and say, “And go to sleep without you next to me? Never.” And every time Jason rolls his eyes at your stubbornness while his heart thrums in his chest at how much he loves you and then gently cups your face in his hands and kisses you softly.

And even when you can’t help it and you do have to go to sleep earlier or exhaustion wins over you and brings you to the depths of slumber without warning, Jason always approaches you quietly so as to not disturb you and kisses your forehead to let you know he’s home. If you’re on the couch he brings you to bed, and if you’re already in bed, he settles the covers better over you, just the way you like.

And those times you always smile in your sleepy state and unless he’s injured and needs your help patching him up, you follow semi consciously the sound of his footsteps around the apartment. The sound of the shower as he steps inside to rinse away the Gotham night clinging to him, the sound of rustling sheets as he finally climbs into bed with you, and are finally lulled back to sleep when warmth surrounds you as he brings you into his arms.

You’re no metahuman but you’ve developed a sixth sense for everything regarding Jason Todd. You would be able to easily spot him in a crowd of thousands after having just faintly heard his voice in the distance even if he didn’t have that white tuft of hair singling him out, all your senses zeroed in on him. It’s like your body and mind are always tuned to find him, like tweaking the dial of the car radio to find your favorite station and finding it on the very first try.

You have a master’s degree on Jason Todd and all of his movements, small gestures and twitch of expressions that he doesn’t even realize that he’s doing, you know it all by heart. You know that when the right side of his smirk pulls slightly at his cheek as he’s admiring you doing something mundane, he’s going to kiss you. You know that when he flexes his hands at his sides something is bothering him. You know that he’s going to laugh loudly and wholeheartedly when the sound makes his shoulders shake slightly before making its way up his throat, as if he’s trying to contain it but the laugh is so strong and spontaneous that he can’t fight it. And you know he’s in pain from a bruise on his ribs when he shifts his weight on his feet and a grimace appears on his face for just a second.

That’s how you know that something’s up when you hear him climb through your living room window and his steps don’t sound as if he’s trying to not make too much noise in order to not wake you up in case that you’re asleep, but as if he's trying to make himself as small as possible. It’s a subtle difference but it’s there. You know it because you’ve encountered it before.

Your worry only increases when in the next four seconds that it takes you to find your bookmark between the sheets and place it in your book, you don’t hear him move at all. He doesn’t come find you and he doesn’t call your name.

When you exit the bedroom you find him in the middle of the living room. He just stands there, shoulders hunched, red helmet gripped tightly in hand, head looking down, his hair falling over his forehead.

Something has happened. You don’t know what it is but your first worry right now is making sure that he’s okay. If he heard you come into the room he doesn’t show it. You take a couple of small yet purposeful steps towards him, making sure that they can be heard so that you can alert him of your presence, not wanting to startle him.

But nothing. He stays frozen.

You take a deep breath as your heart clenches at seeing him like this. It’s bad. Whatever has happened is really, really bad and it seems like Jason’s mind is still there. He’s not fully present with you right now.

But you know what you have to do. You have to bring him back here with you. Help him to separate himself, your loving, wonderful, and kind Jason from the horrors that Red Hood has to face every day.

You take another step in his direction. “Jason?” you whisper softly.

He doesn’t react. But he doesn’t flinch either. That’s good. He knows he’s somewhere safe. But he still needs to distance himself from whatever was out there. You finally come to stand in front of him, still not touching him. “Jay?” you try again while assessing him over, trying to pinpoint if he’s injured.

Again, nothing. But the hair that hangs over his forehead moves ever so subtly, almost in an imperceptible way, but you catch it nonetheless. The hair moved because he tilted his head in the slightest of ways. He’s listening to you. Knows that you’re there. You sigh in relief when you see his grip on the helmet lessen too. Good signs.

“I’m going to touch you, okay?”

He releases a deep breath, slowly allowing himself to let go, the tension that his shoulders held not as tight as before. Leaving his body slightly, leaving him at your mercy. He’s saying, Okay. Satisfied at that and at finding that he doesn’t seem to have any major injuries, you nod. Then, you gently and very slowly take his face in your hands to look at him. His eyes acknowledge you for a split second but then his emerald gaze returns to the floor, and you feel a crack forming in your heart at the utter sadness, desperation, and despair that you find in it.

Still, you feel him melt into your touch at his cheeks. “It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re home,” you offer softly.

He closes his eyes in response, reveling in the comfort that you bring him. Next, you take the helmet from his hand and set it on the kitchen counter before moving to the holster with his guns and very carefully unfastening its belt and leaving it all on the table. Helping him that way to step out of the Red Hood persona and everything that claws into it.

“Let’s take a shower,” you say, wanting to keep him informed of your every move. You take his hand and pull him with you towards the bathroom. He lets you guide him, fully trusting you but still not reacting to anything much.

You don’t ask him what’s happened. You don’t need to know. There are things that Jason doesn’t tell you about patrol. And you have no problem with it, knowing that he wants to separate those two parts of his life. But no matter what it is, you always let him know that he can come to you about them, that you’ll listen. That you’ll always be there for him. Always.

The other few times that you have seen him come home like this, slouched over and not talking much, you later learn, either by context from what you hear on the news and the streets, or by Jason directly telling you about it when he needs to let go and finally feels able share it, that the people he was after got away, that someone got hurt, or something like that.

But this time… This time something’s different. You have never seen him as bad as this. At least not from coming back from patrol. And it worries you. It worries you a lot and it kills you that you can’t do anything more than just be there for him. But it seems that that’s all that he needs right now so you settle on focusing on him.

From the guiltiness that hangs over him, tensing his shoulders and keeping his eyes down, and the distress and sorrow that you see in his gaze, you have a feeling that something terrible happened. Something that he couldn’t prevent. He couldn’t save somebody.

You can almost see how he’s replaying it in his mind, the shame and regret swirling in his head until they stiff all of his body. You need to reassure him, make him see how it isn’t his fault, how he did everything he could, and how he gave his all but how sometimes, despite how much you fight it and try to stop it, Gotham doesn’t let you escape the rot that runs through its streets.

Once you two reach the bathroom, you flick on the mirror light above the sink, casting you two in a soft golden light, not wanting to overwhelm him with the overhead one and its strong intensity.

You stand in front of him and help him take off his jacket before taking his hands in yours. He still doesn’t look at you as you take off his gloves. Once they’re gone, you take a moment to examine his hands, and you let out a sigh of relief at seeing that his knuckles aren’t wounded. Your thumbs softly trace the marred skin, small scars and irregular healing adorning his hands. You can’t help but bring them to your lips and press a long kiss to them, closing your eyes, trying to will away all the mental scars that they hold too just by the touch of your lips.

His hands, that could break bones but also mend and heal the most broken parts of yourself.

Despite what those hands either curled into fists or holding a gun could mean to other people, they’re precious to you. And one of the many wonderful parts of him. To you, they mean soft caresses while you’re laying in bed. They mean warmth when winter comes and he rubs them against your arms. They mean comfort, and safety, as he holds your sobbing body when you break down.

Their roughness both from handling dangerous weapons and using a pan to make you dinner. Jason Todd has a duality that still amazes you to this day, but you love all the multitudes that he contains all the same.

You then begin to remove his equipment. The chest armor, the knee pads, and any other protective gear, putting it all on the pile that you started with his jacket and gloves on top of the laundry basket to sort out later. Jason doesn’t move, only doing the movement necessary to help you undress him, like lifting his feet so that you can slip his boots off after having unlaced them.

But still, his gaze remains lost.

You set the boots to the side and get back up to your feet again. You walk around him to get the tub started for a bath, adding some oils and soap. You pass by him to exit the bathroom and grab some comfortable clothes for him after. Most of the time, unless it’s very cold, he normally sleeps shirtless with some sweatpants or even just his underwear during the hotter months, but you know that tonight he needs to feel covered, enveloped, protected. You begin to plan in your mind. A comfortable old shirt and sweatpants will do.

However, before you can even reach the doorframe and begin your walk to the bedroom, a hand wraps gently around your wrist. You whip back around, both surprised and glad at the same time that Jason has finally interacted with you on his own accord, this being the first contact with the outside world initiated by him. Another good sign.

You see Jason’s eyes fixed on your wrist before lifting his gaze to lock with yours.

Stay.

Your gaze softens and you take another step closer to him, almost being chest to chest. You lift your free hand to caress his cheek. “Of course,” you whisper. “I’m just going to grab you some clothes, okay? It’ll be five seconds.”

As you assure him, without realizing it, your thumb traces his cheek in the exact same motion that he has begun to rub soft circles into your wrist. He nods slowly.

“Okay,” you say and Jason releases his hold on you just enough for you to quickly slip to the bedroom. And just like you promised, you’re back just as fast, closing the door behind you so that the steam from the tub can warm up the room, starting to fog up the mirror too, and setting the clothes on the counter. And Jason still hasn’t moved an inch.

You stand in front of him again and delicately grab the hem of his shirt before looking up at him. And you don’t need words to understand each other. Can I?

Jason’s chin tips slightly. Yeah.

You slowly lift the shirt up his body and he raises his arms to help you. Once off, you leave the shirt with the rest of his discarded clothes. Then, with your hands in front of you so that Jason can see what you’re doing and anticipate your movements, you rest them on his shoulders and then gently slide them down his chest, feeling his well-worked muscles and creases from the scars on his skin.

Jason lets out a deep breath, the skin to skin contact grounding him. His eyes never leave you now, following every single one of your actions. And not because he needs to see what you’re doing in order to prepare himself, not anymore, but because you’re the only thing that seems real right now. The only thing tethering him to Earth.

Because to him, you’re his center of gravity. No matter how far he went, both in distance and into the depths of his mind, he will always come back to you.

You lean forward and press a tender kiss between his pecs. Jason shudders, feeling warmth, comfort, and light blooming from the spot that you kissed and extending through all of his body, from his torso to the ends of his limbs. Your touch like the first rays of sunshine after the coldest and longest night of the year in a frozen landscape, melting the frost and bringing everything back to life. Chasing away the Gotham chill clinging to his bones and the rigidness that holds him hostage. Replacing it all with you, just you. The warmth and safety that you provide.

Jason thinks that he wasn’t actually brought back to life all those years ago, just went through some kind of purgatory on Earth again until he reached his very own personal heaven. You. And he still has no idea what he did to deserve it.

Then you help him out of his pants until he’s standing in his underwear in front of you. His back is hunched, making him lean towards you but this time it’s not because of all the negative thoughts hanging over him, but because of the pull that you have over him, your gravity drawing him in.

You round him again to check the temperature of the water in the tub, though this time, Jason rotates his body to follow you, like a sunflower chasing the sun. Satisfied with both the water’s temperature and quantity, you close the tap.

“You want me to get in with you?” you ask, not minding that you have already showered for the day. Jason nods.

You nod to yourself and peel the shirt of his that you wear to sleep off your body, leaving you just like him, wearing only your lower underwear. And even with how exposed you two are, you’re not vulnerable. The air in the room thick not only with humidity but with the intimacy between you two. A kind that can only come from honest love and a complete feeling of trust.

But the air isn’t humming with electricity like in the other situations in which you two find yourselves with as little clothing as right now. Instead, the air is lulling, like a soft and warm wave gently rocking your body when you lay with your eyes closed in the sea. Comforting and lightening.

You discard both your final pieces of clothing and step into the tub, holding a hand out to Jason so that he can step in in front of you. When he joins you, you two finally sink your bodies in the warm and bubble covered water. You lean back at the edge of the tub with Jason between your legs, his back pressed to your chest, his head resting on your shoulder and your arms draped over his chest, all of you surrounding him, enveloping him, protecting him.

Even though the tub is relatively big, considering Jason’s huge frame, it wasn’t exactly meant for two, so you’re a mess of tangled limbs and warm bodies, but you can already feel Jason relaxing against you. You kiss the crown of his head and he finally closes his eyes.

You two lay there for a while, enjoying the hot water and letting it wash your worries away, the scent from the lavender oil that you used hanging in the air, calming your minds. You’re glad to see how the bath is helping Jason to let go of the events of the night, the remaining tension that clung to his body stripped by the water, and the memories from the night relegated to another place as you see the crease on his brows disappear as you draw gentle caresses on his chest.

You grab the shampoo bottle and start to wash Jason’s hair, working the roots and massaging his scalp to help him relax even further. Soon, hundreds of tiny white bubbles replace the sight of his black locks. You work on his hair longer than necessary but you can see how much it’s helping him, his breathing becoming even more deeper and slower. The only sign that he hasn’t fallen asleep, the hand that settles on your knee at his side.

You then rinse his hair, his white streak majestically poking between the black again. With a sponge you start to wash his body where you can reach, his shoulders, his upper arms and torso. When you’re done you maneuver yourself to sit in front of him, facing each other now. As you start to wash the rest of his arms, you see in his eyes that his thoughts are beginning to slip away, the events of the night calling him again. But you’re not having it. Nothing is taking Jason away from you tonight. Your goal, making him focus on you and only you.

“Can I tell you a story?” you say softly, your voice and the soft splash of water at the slightest movement the only sounds in the room.

Jason just shrugs his shoulders slightly. You nod as you focus on passing the sponge over his hands.

“It’s the story of a boy and a girl. About a wonderful boy and a girl who couldn’t believe her luck,” you begin. “One freezing winter afternoon, the girl slipped on some ice and the guy caught her by the waist, saving her from a pretty hurtful fate, though she almost brought him down with her. She apologized profusely as her cheeks warmed not only because of the embarrassment but because the man who’d caught her was the most handsome one she’d ever seen. But in her haste to step back from the stranger to try and save some embarrassment, she slipped on the ice again and he saved her once again.”

Jason can’t help the small smile that pulls at his lips. Because the story that you’re telling isn’t just any story. It’s your story. The story of how you met.

He wonders how you always knew exactly what to say. Hell, you could just be reading the grocery list out loud and he’d think that you deserved a Nobel Prize in Literature just because it came from you.

The sight of Jason’s smile pulls your lips into one too, and it warms your heart just like his worried gaze had done to your cheeks that very first day.

Both of you remember that day as clear as day, though neither of you could have ever anticipated how important it would be, how it had changed the course of your lives. You can still perfectly recall how he had cleared his throat awkwardly after catching you for the second time and his You alright, miss? How breathy his voice had sounded, as if something had taken his breath away, his heavy lower Gotham accent that had both surprised you and stirred something within you, and how vivid the green in his eyes was.

Just as bright as it is now as you continue the story. The shine that was always there whenever he looked at you.

“She had been pretty awkward, and she still can't believe how she’d managed to pull the kindest and hottest man in all of Gotham, the world even.” Jason snorts and you throw him a look, telling him not to question you because if there is one universal truth in this world—apart from the fact that a single man in possession of good fortune, must be in want of a wife—is that Jason Todd is the kindest and most gorgeous man that you have ever met.

“Though later he would reveal that he had found her nothing but endearing, despite what she might say about her awkwardness,” you continue.

Something about you already drawing him in. But just as quick as it all had happened, the moment passed by, and you two went your separate ways. Though not for long, because some time later, another afternoon, you were walking home when a running figure turned the corner and clashed into you. As you took a couple steps back to stabilize yourself you realized that you were head to head with the Red Hood. Which was strange since the sun was still setting and he had never been seen other than at night.

Jason hadn't planned on starting patrol so early but Tim had tipped him that some guys that he was after were having a meet up and Jason decided to give them a little surprise. Though that plan flew out the metaphorical window in the room of his mind as soon as he saw you again.

He had tried to forget the encounter in which he had saved the most beautiful girl that he’d ever seen from tumbling to the ground, and just as it seemed like he was about to succeed (not really, but at least manage to push the encounter to the back of his mind instead of your soft voice plaguing his every waking moment), he ran into you.

He stared at you bewildered, not believing that it was you, the sweet girl from the ice, and he was at a loss for words.

“Sorry,” you had said and at the sound of your voice he finally came out of his daze and shook his head.

“No need, it was my fault." He tilted his head. “You okay, miss?” You nodded, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down your spine at how similar he had sounded to your ice savior, his voice ingrained in your mind. And as much as Jason would have loved to stay there with you for a bit longer and hopefully learn your name, he had to get going, so he apologized again and you watched as he left.

And that should have been it. But somehow, it seemed like the universe had other ideas, crossing your paths later once again. And then one thing led to another and here you were now, sharing laundry and rent. Who would have thought? Certainly not you, when those strong arms caught you and you had no idea that they would become the place where you would feel the safest in.

Home.

Jason keeps listening as you finish recalling the start of your relationship. “And so their adventure together began. The clumsy girl from the ice and the boy that despite his rough exterior, had the gentlest, bravest, most selfless and most beautiful heart that she’d ever come to know.”

You finish the story with an enamored smile on your lips, the sweet memories fueling even more your love for him. A love and reassurance that you hope you have been able to convey in the story.

Jason sits in front of you with a small smile of his own, his heart beating golden light through his body, the love that you put there. His body finally relaxed and at peace, your hands holding his.

But then the smile falls from your lips as you see his eyes glass over. And even before he starts to tremble you pull him into you, wrapping your arms around him, his face hidden in your neck, his own arms snaking around you, holding you tight. And as the first tremors shake his shoulders, the first tears start to fall.

And you hold him through it. Taking everything that he needs to let go of in stride.

Because without the armor that he had built to keep his emotions at bay, swimming in the guilt and regret, once he finally relaxes, accepts that he’s safe and allows himself to be vulnerable, the dam breaks. And all the feelings come tumbling over.

The impotence. The sadness. The failure.

He’s not outright sobbing, the feelings working slowly but surely through him one by one. His body trembles slightly, a few tears falling onto your shoulder and a couple of sniffles here and there.

“I- I couldn’t-” He shakes his head and keeps silent once again. The first words that he’s said since he came home. The cracks in his broken voice forming ones in your heart. It stings more than salt in an open wound. You hold him as tight as you can. It’s like he needs to exteriorize these feelings and his body is allowing him to, but his voice can’t even go further than repeating that phrase over and over again. You shush him gently, letting him know that he doesn’t need to force himself to say anything. You’re here for him and that’s all that matters.

“It’s okay. You did everything you could, Jason. You’re a good man,” you whisper, trying to soothe the torture that he’s submitting himself to. But he shakes his head even more vehemently at your reassuring words and beautiful thoughts of him. Right now they don’t make any sense to him with how much he failed tonight. He’s not brave. He’s not kind. And he certainly isn’t good. He doesn’t know how you can say all of those things about him when he couldn’t-

You feel his internal monologue with how the time between his trembles, tears, and sniffles stretches. He’s lost in his head again. Thinking instead of feeling.

“Jason, hey, no. Stop,” you whisper gently but firmly. You unwind your arms from around him and take his head in your hands, holding his forehead to yours, looking into his eyes though his gaze avoids you.

“You are good. You’re kind, stubborn, funny, brave, determined, sarcastic, gentle, and loving. You’re all of those things. And sometimes things just go wrong and you can’t do anything to prevent them. You didn’t make any mistakes tonight, okay?” You don’t actually think that he can do anything wrong but you keep that to yourself. “Not being able to prevent something bad doesn’t make you any less of a good person.”

You can see how the thoughts race in his eyes.

“Jason. Look at me.” He finally locks eyes with you. “You know I’m not good at lying so listen to me when I say this. Whatever happened tonight is not your fault. You can cry. You should cry. You have to let go of everything that is storming inside you. What I’m not letting you do is convince yourself that you’re not good enough. Because you are, you hear me? You are.” You can’t help the tears that begin to prick at the corners of your eyes.

“I love you and I’m always going to be here for you for whatever you need, okay?” As a tear slips from your eye, Jason nods and hides in your neck again, letting his tears flow again. Letting himself feel. You envelop him in your arms once again.

“Okay,” he mutters against your skin. You sigh in relief and start to trace long shapes on his back.

You two stay there for a while, until both of you stop crying and his breathing returns to normal. And then you stay a little longer, just holding each other, Jason letting himself get lost in your soft skin and soothing scent, finally, finally, letting the night go. At least for now.

And then even a little longer, until the water turns lukewarm and a chill runs through your bodies.

“Want to go to bed?” you ask softly, threading your fingers through his hair, brushing away the damp strands falling on his forehead.

He nods slowly, lifting his head from your neck. “Thank you,” he whispers. You shake your head and he knows what you mean, You don’t have to thank me, I’d do anything for you.

“Come on,” you say and get up, offering him your hands. He takes them and gets up as well. You let the tub drain and step out of it, Jason following you. You quickly wrap Jason in a towel and then do the same with yourself. When you're done, he takes one of your hands gently and, while looking deep into your eyes, he kisses your knuckles. Thank you.

This time your gaze softens and you rest your hand against his heart. Of course.

After drying off you put your sleeping clothes back on and when you see Jason with the briefs that you brought already on and reaching towards the sweatpants, you gently swat his hand away. Let me take care of you.

He raises his hands in surrender and takes a step away from his clothes. Yes, ma’am.

“Are you hurt anywhere? Do you need me to patch you up?” He doesn’t seem to have any injury but you want to make sure. He shakes his head. You arch an eyebrow. It wouldn’t be the first time that he’s tried to lie to you about that. He nods, extending his arms so that you can examine him, showing how he doesn’t have any wounds. You wait for a beat before nodding.

You help him get dressed and all the while his fond gaze follows you. He’s sure that the best feeling in the world is being taken care of by you. That sunshine feeling blooming again in his chest. You’re so bright and he’s just so- No. He’s promised that he isn’t going to think like that anymore. At least not more tonight.

He follows your directions as you make him sit on the toilet and watches as you comb his hair. But then he can’t help but close his eyes at how relaxed he feels under your care. When you’re done you kiss his forehead and he hums as you run your hand through his hair. When he opens his eyes again, you’re extending a hand to him and he takes it without hesitation.

You turn off the bathroom light and guide him to the bedroom. You climb into bed, your side always the furthest one from the door, no matter where you are, at home, at the manor, or traveling, Jason makes sure of that, and you open your arms, inviting him into your embrace. Jason gets into bed, laying half on top of you, and wraps his arms around your waist as he nuzzles into your neck, your legs tangled. You drape the covers over you both, practically burying yourselves under them and wrap your arms around him, protecting him from anything that could hurt him. Your very own cocoon.

He gives your waist a slight squeeze. I love you. You kiss his hair in return, hugging him even tighter.

And as you hold him tight, the two of you know that what happened tonight out there would still haunt Jason despite all your reassurances. But just as you know that, you also know that you’re always going to be there for him. To love him and care for him. So, for tonight, Jason lets himself be lulled to sleep by the sound of your heart. Each rhythmic thump thump telling him, I got you, you’re okay, I love you, over and over again.

Just like for you with him, your arms the place where he feels safest in. Home.

Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

[gay-dorito-dust]

Batboys and reader doing the hear me out cake trend and reader pulls out a picture of Bruce when he was in his prime.

Apologies anon but this trend…Do not get me started on how misconstrued the phrase ‘hear me out’ is. I’ll rant about how a lot of ppl should look up the definition first. I’m very passionate about how butchered the trend is that every time I see one I can’t help but think ‘not a hear me out, try again or don’t to save my small remnants of sanity.’ I hate it so much.

Dick

Pouts.

‘My dad? Really?’ He’d ask you.

‘Yeah, what can I say he was a total hunk.’ You shrugged.

‘Was?!’ Dick replied, looking at you as though you had grown a second head. ‘What is he now then chopped liver? Do you not like older men?! Do they loose their charm the moment they have a few grey hairs and lines on their face?!’ He exclaims.

This wasn’t what you were expecting when doing this challenge because now you were being grilled by dick on whether you’ll still feel attractive to him when he himself gets old and grey.

‘I don’t have anything against older men dick, I just find your dad hot in this specific picture.’ You defended yourself and dick only puts his hands on your shoulders and gives them a firm squeeze as he presses his forehead against yours.

‘Sweetheart I don’t think you understand because what do you mean you find him hotter in the picture?! It’s Bruce the man is just naturally photogenic!’ Dick tells you. ‘You could’ve chosen a recent picture of Bruce and say the exact same thing.’

‘Eh, it’s not the same thing.’ You say and dick felt as though he might as well rip his hair from his head because what do you mean it’s not the same thing?! He was now more certain that you didn’t like older men if Bruce was only appealing to you in his youth, his supposed prime.

Needless to say the conversation diverted from the fact that you found his dad hot, to one where dick was trying to prove to himself that you just didn’t like older men/ silver foxes for whatever absurd reason.

Jason

He’s oddly silent.

You feared you did something the moment you pulled the picture of young Bruce Wayne out to put on the cake.

The wait was over the moment he did decide to say something but it was nothing like you’d expect to come out of his mouth;

‘Out of all the pictures there are of Bruce, that’s the one you picked? Nothing about that picture is flattering to him in any way whatsoever.’

‘Oh you’re just jealous.’ You’d tell him and Jason only raises his brow at you.

‘Jealous, babe have you seen me? What’s there to be jealous of that old bat.’ Jason replies as he gestures towards himself before pinching your cheeks. ‘I just think it’s adorable how you consider Bruce in his prime as a hear me out, it’s laughable really but you do you chipmunk.’ He adds.

However when you weren’t looking, he’d take the picture of Bruce from the cake and throw it over his shoulder, for there was no way in hell he was going to have a picture of Bruce on a cake. No sir, Jason would much rather die again than allow his own father to overstay his welcome on the damn cake.

He’d even act innocent when you would ask where the picture went as though he didn’t set it on fire with a lighter after plucking it off the cake. ‘It must’ve grew legs and walked off.’ He’d shrug but it wasn’t hard to know the truth.

His dad can fuck off away from the cake and you.

Damian

Another one who’s not so amused by the fact that you added his father on a ‘hear me out’ cake.

He doesn’t partake in such stupid trends that’ll sooner or later long forgotten by the public consciousness in favour of a new trend that’ll run itself to the ground just as quickly as the last. He questions the publics attention span if it was this short and unreliable, he really does and fears that the age of stupidity has begun with people who think a conventional attractive man with a Roman nose or any other unique feature is a ‘hear me out.’

As if they were any less attractive than a man with a plain featured, and rather unappealing and basic appearance. They’re weren’t, if anything people with romantic noses or any other unique features were just as attractive as the plained featured ones, and Damian found it rather ridiculous that is what is being considered a secrete that many think they’ll be judged for finding appealing.

‘My father? Really?’ He’d say as he looked between you and the picture of his father.

‘Yeah.’ You shrugged.

Damian only sighed as he crossed his arms over his chest. ‘A conventionally attractive man is you hear me out?’

‘Not just any conventionally attractive man-‘ you tried to explain but Damian didn’t allow you the space to do so.

‘My father in his prime doesn’t count, you should really do better research before putting random people on a cake, or better yet don’t partake in a challenge you don’t understand.’ Was all Damian said before he leaves the room, he’s not impressed and feared that there was too many people who for some stupid reason also though his father in his prime is a ‘hear me out.’

It freaks him out and disappoints him greatly of what the future of Gotham and humanity as a whole would look like if these people were to be at the helm.

Tim

Not amused.

He’s sick and tired of people putting conventional attractive people and anthropomorphic animals who are drawn in a specific way to elicit such emotions out of people.

So to see that you had put his father, more specifically Bruce in his first steps as the dark knight, he couldn’t help but look at you disappointedly.

One, you obviously didn’t understand the concept of a hear me out and Tim is more then ready to educate you on what one is with his long ass PowerPoint presentation. And two, really? His dad? What was wrong with his dad in his current old age? Did you have something against older men?

Wait- why was he so suddenly concerned whether or not you find his father less appealing now than how he looked in his prime? He should be more focused on the fact that you found such pristine picture of Bruce during that time, he’s tried multiple times but the resolution was god awful and didn’t do anything to flatter Bruce.

You’re still getting lectured on what a proper hear me out is though. Tim’s got fucking tons.

[dollishmehrayan]

# BATBOYS WITH A SUNSHINE!READER ── .✦ ( basically batboys with a optimistic reader )

a/n: this was requested by anon (here) but anywayss i think I’m gonna do the world tour thing after my winter inspired fics/hcs end on like February 28th! (Dw i’ll still do the world tour thingy in between) but yahh also I desperately need writer mutals + mutals I mssg daily like I’m a very kind person idm if you dm me at like 4 AM, tags: (batboys x fem!reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Absolutely smitten. Your optimism is like a magnet for Dick, who thrives on positivity.

He calls you his “little ray of sunshine” (even if you roll your eyes at the nickname).

If he’s feeling down, your relentless optimism is a game changer. “How do you do that? How do you make the world seem so… bright all the time?”

Constantly teases you, especially if you’re being overly cheerful during random moments. “Are you seriously smiling right now? We’re getting ready to head to bed!”

But secretly, he loves it. Your energy balances his occasional doubts && insecurities. (he lovesss positive people who live in their own world)

Dick starts picking up on your habits leaving little notes of encouragement, giving random compliments to strangers and realizes how much better it makes his day.

JASON TODD ── .✦

At first, he’s skeptical. He’s not used to someone so genuinely cheerful, and he might think you’re putting on an act.

“How are you this happy all the time? What’s your secret? Coffee? Dark magic?”, “I just like seeing the world differently, I’m a poet in my mind.”

But over time, he warms up to your positivity and even craves it (to a point he gets sad if you aren’t around for more than 4 hours). You’re the light that cuts through his darker moments and more sulking personality.

“I don’t know how you do it, but you make me feel like the world’s not completely screwed.”, “what did you say?-“, “Nothing go back to sleep.”

He pretends to be annoyed when you try to cheer him up after a rough day, but he secretly loves when you coax a laugh out of him.

Jason starts jokingly calling you his “emotional support sunshine.” He’ll tell Roy, “Yeah, they’re like my personal antidepressant.”

Will protect your positivity at all costs. If anyone tries to dim your light, they’ll have to deal with him.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Finds your optimism so refreshing. Tim can be a little too caught up in stress and overthinking, so your energy is like a breath of fresh air.

He’s constantly asking, “How are you so happy all the time? Teach me your ways.”

If you leave him little notes of encouragement, he’ll treasure them forever. He has a drawer full of them and pulls one out whenever he’s having a bad day.

Sometimes, your cheerfulness makes him feel a little guilty. “You’re so good, and here I am being a grump.” But you always remind him it’s okay to have bad days.

Tim loves how you bring optimism even to his most chaotic moments. “Yeah, sure, we’re being late, but hey, at least it’s not raining, right?”

He’d be a little overwhelmed by your energy at times, but he admires you deeply for seeing the good in everything.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Damian does not know what to do with you at first. Your cheerfulness is a complete mystery to him.

“Why are you smiling? We are surrounded by incompetence.”

He pretends to be annoyed, but deep down, he finds your positivity oddly comforting.

Over time, he starts looking forward to your optimistic take on things. “Yes, fine, maybe there is a silver lining. Stop gloating.”

You have a knack for breaking through his tough exterior. If he’s grumpy, you’ll say something so genuinely kind that he can’t help but soften.

Damian secretly loves how you see the good in him, even when he doesn’t see it himself.

He starts to mimic your habits, like giving Alfred small compliments or trying to look on the bright side, but he’ll deny it if you call him out.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Bruce admires your positivity but doesn’t always understand it. “How do you manage to stay so cheerful in Gotham of all places?”

At first, he worries your optimism will make you naive, but he quickly realizes it’s your strength.

Your energy is a stark contrast to his brooding nature, and he starts leaning on it more than he cares to admit.

When he’s stuck in his head or doubting himself, you always know what to say to pull him out of it.

“You make it sound so simple,” he says after you give him one of your pep talks. But he smiles because somehow, you do make it simple.

You bring a sense of warmth and nostalgia into the Wayne Manor. Bruce finds himself more relaxed when you’re around, even in the middle of chaos.

He’ll never admit it to the others, but your optimism is one of his favorite things about you.

[strangepoppy]

Blue balling Red Hood 😆 poor couple, p o o r t i m

Dear God Get Out

jason todd x reader

aka not a moment of privacy

warnings: mild sexual activities, more people than jason would ever want in your apartment during those times

The second Jason’s through the door his arms are out, seeking to pull you into him. You let him engulf you in his arms without thought, this being the first time you’ve seen him all day.

“Missed you,” He mumbles into your shoulder.

You hum and rake your fingers through his hair. “I know. Missed you too.”

He pulls back to look at you and holds your neck gingerly in his hands. “You’re good?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” You nod and kiss his collarbone softly, wrapping your hands around his forearms. He gives your forehead a kiss and walks you backwards to the couch, leaning down over you until you have to sit.

He follows you down and kisses your lips and guides you backwards to lay. He drapes himself over you, inserting himself between your legs. He refocuses his attention to your neck, and sucks at a very particular spot below your jaw that you know he targeted on purpose.

“Okay, that’s not fair.” You breathe out, halfway to a sigh.

“No? How ‘bout this?”

He nips at you, startling you to a near moan. Your reaction only encourages him, as he holds your jaw and tilts your head to the side for more access.

He slips his hand under your shirt, grazing the skin underneath. He leaves open kisses all across your collarbone, trailing them down your stomach once he has your top off and strewn half away across the room.

You stop him, pulling him back up to you for a kiss. He furrows his brows at first, only understanding when you start to pry at his shirt too. He removes it for you, tossing it with startling accuracy right by yours.

He resumes kissing down your body, hands trailing down your sides along with him. He peppers kisses on your thighs and hooks his fingers into the seam of your underwear, readying to remove them.

It’s almost astonishing how silently he'd managed to open the window only to stumble and flail his way to the floor.

The sudden clatter scares the hell out of both you and Jason, who jumps to a stand immediately.

“Tim!”

“Evening. D’you guys still have any—oh.” Tim finally regains his coordination and stands up to see you sprawled out on the couch, bra and underwear your only cover.

His eyes go to the floor real quick and Jason lets out an exasperated sigh, looking around for something nearby to cover you up with.

“—you know, wait up means wait up!”

Oh good, Dick’s here too.

You sit up quickly and try to cover yourself with your arms, though there’s not much of a difference you can really make.

Dick ducks in from the fire escape and lands significantly more gracefully than his counterpart had.

It takes him no time at all to assess the room and see you, knees to chest on the couch, trying very hard to appear as though you’re not half naked. Takes him even less time to see Jason, standing in front of you, fuming.

“Oh. Oops…”

Jason chucks the tv remote at Dick and uses the distraction to pull you up from the couch, pushing you behind him. His massive frame is more than enough to cover what his brothers have no business seeing.

“Get the fuck—”

And just for good measure, Damian jumps down next and crouches in the window.

“Jesus Christ,” your boyfriend mutters, hands covering his face in exasperation.

Damian takes one glance at the room and grimaces—Tim’s eyes are glued to the floor, Dick’s acting as though there’s something very interesting on the ceiling, and Jason’s shirtless. He can’t quite see you behind Jason, though he doesn’t need to in order to guess what he’d just walked in on.

“Ugh, seriously Todd? That’s disgusting.”

You let your forehead hit Jason’s back, thoroughly embarrassed. He reaches back to caress your waist, and you know somewhere in that action there’s a reassurance that he’s going to get them out as soon as humanly possible.

“Yeah, seriously. This is our apartment, demon brat. Get out.”

“Maybe we should come back later…” Dick suggests, a bit more awkward than in his usual character.

Jason glares up at the heavens. “Or never.”

“At least keep it in the bedroom, you animals.” Damian chastises.

Jason suddenly wishes he hadn’t thrown the remote so soon. “Our apartment.”

He looks back at you without moving the shield of his body, eyes apologetic. You meet gaze and turn your head to rest your cheek on him instead, your own hidden meaning of reassurance. It’s fine.

You can’t see them but you hear a shuffle and hope to god it’s not another vigilante.

You place a hand on Jason’s lower back and peer around his shoulder, seeing Tim turned back around towards the window and trying desperately to get Damian to move out of the way—Damian, seemingly having no regard for Tim’s urgency.

You’re not quite sure if it’s over discomfort or embarrassment in seeing you so undressed, or if it’s because his self-preservation kicked in when he saw the look on Jason’s face. Maybe both. Probably both.

Both.

“Will you stop?” Damian slaps his hand away. “We came here for a reason.”

He looks past Tim at you, “Do you have—”

“No.” Jason cuts in, growing visibly more agitated.

Damian’s face contorts as he looks back up to Jason, “What is your—”

Now Dick cuts in, “Okay, that’s fine, we’ll just ask the old man.”

“Great.”

Dick pauses. “On the couch though, Jaybird?”

Jason takes a deep breath.

“Alright, ten seconds, then I get the gun taped under the table.”

That’s warning enough for Damian—he’s called that bluff once before and learned the hard way.

Tim doesn’t even take a second glance before hauling it out of your apartment, his cape getting caught on the window frame briefly before he scrambles away.

Dick calls out an apology to you before trailing out the window after him.

Jason lets out a heavy exhale and turns to you, hands gliding naturally to your waist.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “Don’t need to be.”

He gives a low hum and wraps his arms around you, pulling you down with him as he crashes down onto the sofa.

“Should I feel bad about almost railing you into the couch?”

“I wouldn’t waste any tears over it. Not like it would’ve been the first time we did it.”

He laughs and tugs you further into his chest. You curl into him and close your eyes, thinking.

“Jay?”

“Hm?”

“How did Tim survive as Robin?”

“I’ve been asking that question for years.”

[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.

[porcelian]

“It’s currently—” Jason leans back on the counter’s edge to glance at the clock, “—five in the morning.”

“We talked all night?”

The refrigerator’s light glows in the kitchen, casting its hue on you and Jason. You stay seated stubbornly on the counter. The cool surface biting into the bare skin of your thighs.

“I’m freezing.” You groan.

Jason coos. He moves to stand between your legs. Your head instinctively falls to his shoulders.

“Poor baby.” You can imagine the smug grin on his face. “Weren't you the one who decided not to sleep tonight–”

“But–”

“–to eat, what is this again?” He picks up the Ice-cream carton placed next to you.

“Ice-cream. I was craving something sweet.”

“No wonder you're freezing. Plus, we need to address your sweet tooth.” He laughs.

“I have a weakness for sweet things.” You place a chaste kiss on his cheek. Jason snorts. The corners of his lips curled.

You snatch the carton from his hands. Grabbing the spoon you take another bite. You can feel your mouth freeze as the cold spreads in your mouth.

“Oh no, poor baby–”

“Shut up, Jay.”

“Want me to warm you up?”

You give him a faux glare.

“How do you stay warm, anyway? You hog all the blankets, maybe that's why.”

He gasps. “No, I do not.”

“Take responsibility, Jason Todd. Warm my hands for me.” You reach out your hands in front him, fingers wiggling. The smile on your face reaches your eyes.

With a tender grip, he wraps your hands in his, the warmth of his palms spreading slowly into your cold fingers.

“I spoil you too much.”

“Kiss me,” you whispered.

He smiled, a pearl-iridescent grin that lures you in. “You always order me about.”

“Kiss me.”

“Now you want a kiss? Are you sure?” The corners of his smile curled, turning into a teasing smirk. “Because once I do, I might not be able—”

Your hands grasped the fabric of his collar and yanked him down.

His lips danced around yours. The taste of him seeped into you akin to honeyed nectar. His hands encircled your waist. Calloused hands fleetingly ghosted over your skin.

“I love kissing you.” You murmured.

“Spoiled.”

“Shut up. You love me.”

© ROBINSFILM ﹕ I do not give consent for my writing to be posted or used on any other platforms without my permission and proper credit.

[redr0sewrites]

Can I request hcs for batboys experiencing the best blowjobs in their life from their s/o who is shy and has no experience in the sexual activities (like this is their first time doing and they were eager to please the boys)?

🥀A/n: YES!!!! TYSM FOR REQUESTING!!!!

🥀Character(s): Dick Grayson x reader, Jason Todd x reader, Bruce Wayne x reader

🥀Cw: smut, blowjob, dirty talk, praise, inexperienced/virgin!reader

🥀minors dni

Dick Grayson :

he's more than a little cocky at first, cooing at you and treating you like a precious little angel. your inexperience and eagerness definitely turns him on a bit, and that makes him all the more susceptible to how skilled you are at giving him head

thinks it's cute how shy you are, and definitely wants you to be naked beneath him. he doesn't mind if you touch yourself while your pleasuring him, and thinks it's adorable how your eyes widen when you see how big he is

how is that going to fit in your mouth?

while he does tease and mock you just a liiiittle, Dick isn't an asshole

he talks you through it the entire time as he's gently pushing his cock into your mouth, praising you for taking him so well and brushing the tears from your eyes when you gag on his length

when you start sucking him off, Dick swears he's in heaven. he can't help but buck his hips and grind against your face, and it takes everything in him to restrain himself from grabbing a fistfull of your hair and fucking your throat

his head is tossed back and his thighs are twitching, he's mumbling out praises and unashamedly moaning your name like it's a prayer

if you tease him a bit like he did to you and edge him, he will cry and bitch and moan about it until you let him cum.

also, this man has STAMINA expect him to last a little while. if you end up getting too needy and start masturbating while sucking him off, Dick will instruct you on what to do, what pace you should set, and if you end up edging him, he'll make you edge yourself as well. i don't think he's a very strict dom often, but he is commanding when it comes to this. loooveesss when you moan around his cock, the vibrations make him even louder and he is not ashamed of screaming your name when he comes like a porn star. (literally everyone in a mile radius is traumatized)

for your first time, i dont think he'd make you swallow his cum, and it would take a little while until he asks to cum in your mouth. i do think he prefers if u swallow it though. and if you show him his cum in your mouth before swallowing? be prepared for at least 2 more rounds of him just eating you out cuz that turns him on SO QUICK. he prefers to cum in your mouth but won't for the first time out of fear that you think he's a weirdo (he is)

Jason Todd :

Jason is also big on praising you, especially when it comes to your first time sucking him off. he wants to make the experience as comfortable for you as possible and is adamant about having you tap out if anything makes you uncomfortable

thinks its hot when you kneel in front of him, he has a bit of a size kink and you in a smaller position turns him on more than he'd like to admit

makes you suck on his fingers before he lets you suck on his cock. he's a little bit mean and makes you spit on his dick as lube, there's something about how sloppy it is that makes him feral

holds your jaw while you take him in your mouth and coos the sweetest praises as you adjust to his size. Jason is quick to calm any anxieties you have about not being able to take him, and his hand doesn't leave your face the entire time you suck him off. whenever you gag or gasp around him, his thumb runs soothingly over your cheek and he pulls out ever so slightly

talks you through it at first, giving you firm instructions on how to please him.

"fuuck, yea doll, swirl your tongue jus' like that. see baby, you're a natural, practically made f'my cock.."

lots of soft grunts and groans with the occasional whine. he isn't as much of a talker as he begins to get close, but is still pretty vocal

prefers to pull out and cum on your chest, he definitely would not cum on your face but wouldn't mind cumming in your mouth. your chest is definitely his preference though, and he loves when you look up at him with big doe eyes as his release drips down your front

definitely returns the favor and makes you cum at least twice, and is also big on aftercare!!

Bruce Wayne :

listen, while Bruce is definitely into blowjobs, he gets off on your pleasure more than his own. he'll buy you one of those remote controlled vibrators to use on you while your sucking him off, and increases the vibrations when he's close so you both cum at the same time

very gentle with you. he doesn't want to make you gag or hurt you, and he keeps a cautious hand gently resting on the top of your head as you take him into your mouth

loooots of praise, especially when you moan around his cock from the vibrator

Bruce is very quiet during sex in general, but he's a little more vocal than usual when receiving head. he lets out soft sighs and groans of pleasure, mixed in with praises and affectionate whispers of your name

"yes, darling, just like that... so good f'me..."

his thighs twitch and shudder a looot when you suck him off, and his back arches ever so slightly <3 its a very pretty sight to see

while your first time would probably be in the safety and comfort of your bedroom, Bruce loves the intensity of semi-public sex. he definitely wants you to suck him off under his desk, the risk and thrill of being caught all the more prominent whenever footsteps are heard walking by his office doors

likes teasing you and edging you with the vibrator, he wants this to be a pleasurable experience for both of you but may tease you just a bit about cumming untouched

prefers to cum in your mouth, but he'll ask if it's okay before he does so. its a bit of a dirty secret, but he loves kissing you after you gave him head and tasting himself on your tongue. he isn't exactly possessive, but it arouses him more than he'd care to admit

very sweet with aftercare! he'll chuckle at you a bit if you complain about having a sore jaw, but otherwise treats you very well. he definitely always eats you out after you auck him off, even though you've already came. he also would be into experimenting with the remote control vibrator some more if your interested.... 😇

if this seems a teensy bit bad then im sorry, i wrote it while very sleep deprived 💀

ANYWAYS!!! HOPE U ENJOYED!!!! plsplsoslspslsps PLEASE send in jason todd asks this is not a drill

[fcthots]

Jason Todd with sharp canines that he accidentally nips you with all the time. At some point you kinda just have to shove your hand in his mouth to take a look and find out what the fuck he has in there that could possibly be doing this shit. He just sort of lets you without question and complains in muffled gibberish around your hand.

He does apologize profusely every time he knicks you though (and depending on what he was trying to do, he’ll lick or kiss it better). Unfortunately he refuses to do it on purpose.

But if you distract him enough with your hands tugging on the roots of his hair while he’s trying to leave a hickey… let’s just say he has a hard time focusing on being careful.