#dad jason todd x mom reader

[jasontoddsdarling]

keep thinking about my fictional little family... then this drabble surrounding my dad!jason todd and mom!reader and their baby girl is born :3

the first drabble will be inspired by this video, but the opposite of what's happening there.

rora todd (my kid oc from one of my fics, link of the account is on my pinned!) cries when one day jason comes back home after like two weeks out of the country for conferences. he got himself a fortnight beard. rora will greet jason in front of the door, jason hides his face with one of souvenirs bag he got for her and boom she cries because she is like who the hell is this man? that's not my papa... and mom!reader can only hides her giggle when jason sends her a help me look. their daughter has never seen him with this kind of facial hair— at most it's only his five o'clock shadow, usually keeps his beard shaves everyday. it's understandable that little rora is confused.

it'll end up with them co-sleeping with her in their king-size bed, she's in between her parents. but instead of being in the center like usual, she clings into her mamabear's side—occasionally looking at jason and her lips trembles. her mom can only give her husband sympathetic look. though when rora falls asleep, she'll be perfectly at the center—she will roll to jason's side and her mama will scoot over to her. even after her little drama her subconscious knows she's her dad's little angel, lol. (and jason's just happy his whole world is in his embrace again after days not being with them, he missed them like crazy when he was away).

best believe though the first thing jason does in the morning is shaving his beard lol. he cannot stand the way his daughter cannot stand his beard. when rora wakes up she'll be like, "papa!" with her cute baby scream and her thousand kilowatt smile. it lights up jason's morning instantly.

[indulgentdaydream]

Bliss and Misery

Dad!Jason Todd x Fem!Mom!Reader || Angst; Hurt/No Comfort || Word Count: 1,643

Warnings: dead dove.

i know how much you guys love my domestic!jason fics :3 so here's this one that's been bouncing around in my mind:

The morning sun stretched its fingers, slowly finding its way centimetre by centimetre in order to reach into the small apartment bedroom. The soft warmth spread over Jason's face, giving him a slow and subtle wake-up call.

Jason almost doesn't want to wake up. The plush covers are pulled up to his shoulders. One arm lays over his stomach, resting against the cotton fabric. The other stuffed underneath the pillow, beside his head. He hasn't even opened his eyes yet, but he can feel your presence beside him.

Slowly, he blinks, adjusting to the daylight. He pulls his hand out from under the pillow and runs it across his face. He vaguely remembered something about needing to be up for something. Something about helping Dick with something or another.

He turned his head to the left and all possible worries about sleeping vanished when his eyes found you.

Jason couldn't help but smile. The sight of his girl curled up in the sheets beside him making him feel warmer than the sun ever could. You looked as completely at peace as he felt in the moment. The sunlight stretched over you, as well, illuminating every feature of yours. All of which he loved without a second thought.

Loved as if it was second nature.

As if it was breathing itself.

Here, with the comforter pulled up to your chin, face squished against the pillow, and a small pile of dried drool forming on it, you were safe. He was safe.

You were safe and he was safe and this was everything he had ever wanted to give you.

Peace. Safety. Comfortability.

Love.

He takes the hand resting across his stomach and reaches out to you. There was a stray lock that had fallen out of place. He wanted to fix it for you before it could wake you out of annoyance.

Then he heard the quick padding of feet coming down the hallway.

It filters in through the bedroom door, left open a crack, getting louder with each little slap of a bare foot rushing down the hall. Jason smiles at the sound.

Obviously, he's not the only one awake.

From where he's laying, Jason can only see the top of the door. He listens as the padding feet stop right outside of it, before it begins to slowly creak open. Jason pushes up onto his elbows to get a better look.

There's a small face poking their head around the door, a curious look on their face as they peer up at the bed, trying to determine if their parents are awake. As soon as Jason's head comes up into their view, a large, bright, slightly toothy smile spreads across their whole face.

Jason holds a finger to his lips as your shared toddler pushes the door open the rest of the way. Luckily, it doesn't bang loud enough to wake you up.

"Come to my side," Jason whispers.

The sound of quick padding feet picks up again. Jason lays his head back against his pillow. He gets a second more of peace before there's a small head, covered with dense, black curls, that's appearing next to him, barely visible over the edge of the bed. Next, there's tiny hands. They're reaching up and gripping at the blanket, attempting to pull themself up, only to no avail.

Jason turns and reaches down. He lifts them up with no effort, sitting them onto his chest. His voice is groggy, still full of sleep, as he whispers "Hiya, baby."

A fit of giggles rings throughout the room. His baby leans forward. Two hands settle on either side of Jason's cheeks. His baby grins at him still, two eyes staring into his own, matching ones, and matches his whisper, "Daddy."

Jason chuckles to himself. He gently grabs his toddler's hands, pressing kisses and pretending to nibble on the little, pudgy fingers.

Another round of giggles sound out, a bit louder than before.

You shuffle in your sleep, a small puff of air leaving your lips. The movement grabs the attention of both your baby and your husband.

Your baby flops down, suddenly, off of Jason's chest. They land between you two, on the mattress. One pudgy hand is pushing themself up, the other reaching out to your face, instead. Their whispering voice calls out, "Mommy!"

Jason turns onto his side, facing you, and pulls them back. He gently holds them to his chest with an arm around them, “Shhh," He whispers into their ear, "Mommy’s sleeping.”

"Mommy s'eeping.”

Jason laughs quietly smiling as their baby looks back up at him with that same, bright grin. They look up at him with your eyes, before looking back at you.

...

Your eyes?

Jason shuffles lower in the bed, putting his face next to his baby’s. All four of their eyes are focused on you.

“Isn’t she so pretty?" He whispers, "Look at how pretty Mommy is.”

You look so peaceful. So cozy. So beautiful. With the blanket wrapped around you, your limbs comfortably spread out. Your entire life right in front of you, yet you were blissfully unaware.

“Pretty,” Their baby whispers.

Jason grins, patting their stomach, “Yes. She’s very pretty isn’t she?” Jason lets go of their baby, “Go wake her up.”

Their baby squeals out a fit of giggles again. They immediately crawl forward between the small space. Their hands come down quick, making Jason flinch in preparation for the accidental blow, but they land gently on your face. Their lips come down to messily kiss your closed eyelid.

“Mommy,” they whisper loudly.

You let out a small groan. Your baby grins, gently patting your cheek. You peer one eye open, "What is it?"

Jason grins wide, his hand coming over to smooth over your upper arm through the blanket, “The wake up call came in.”

Their baby sat back on the mattress as you lifted your head, “So you were the first victim," your eyes squinted at the morning light coming in through the window behind Jason, "and you just let ‘em continue their rampage?”

Their baby scoots down to lay between their parents, their face level between theirs, still smiling and happy as could be.

“I was already awake,” Jason smiles, “I let you have five more minutes before the attack began.”

You hum, closing your eyes again, "What a gentleman."

“Mommmmy,” your baby dragged out the word, their little hand reaching out and touching your cheek.

You hum and peak an eye open again, “I’m awake, darling.”

Jason chuckles and leans over, “You better be. We’ve obviously slept in enough according to the little one."

You let out a small laugh. He presses a light kiss to your lips.

A small squeal sounds.

Jason looks down at the look of betrayal on their toddler’s face. Their little hands raise up in question. It makes him laugh wholeheartedly.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he leans back down to the toddler instead. You're laughing with him, “Are you feeling left out?”

Jason kisses their cheek. You lean in and kiss their other cheek.

Jason looks back at you, a warm smile on his face. He begins to reach his hand out to cup your face.

His phone starts to ring.

He frowns. You aren't reacting. Neither is your toddler.

His hand hits the pillow where your head should be.

The sheets are cold.

The room is dark. It’s the middle of the night.

There’s no one in front of him. It’s just him in his empty, cold, uncomfortable bed.

There's no warmth. No sunlight. No comfortable blanket. No padding little feet.

No you.

He sits up, throwing his feet over the side of the bed, tossing the covers off of himself. He rubs a hand over his face. One glance at his phone shows that it’s Dick calling. No chance he’s picking up.

Not now.

Jason holds his head in his hands.

Why did he ever break up with you?

To protect you from himself, of course. All he had wanted to give you.

Peace. Safety. Comfortability.

and...

Love.

The phone stopped ringing. A moment later, it started up again.

His life is dangerous. He was dragging you down. You were better off without him. You had the chance to choose a different path than he had.

A path that lowered your chance of sudden death just by association.

But… if that’s the life that he could’ve had with you… a life he hadn’t fully considered himself ever being able to have…

God.

Why did he ever leave?

The sight of that little smile, held in his arms, lit up by the morning light, made his stomach churn so violently he almost darted to the bathroom.

What would their name have been? He didn't know the gender in the dream.

He would have let you name them. He was never good with names.

He thought back on their eyes. He would have wanted them to have your eyes. He would have wanted them to have every single one of your features. It was always easier to those who were as gorgeous as you. Even if you rarely believed him when he tried to convince you that you are.

The phone stopped ringing again.

A text came through. You promised.

Yeah, The image of you laying in the bed, your toddler laying beside you, both smiling up at him, flashed through Jason's mind, I did promise her, didn't I?

Jason lifts his head, shaking it a little to clear his thoughts.

He had made his bed, and now he was laying in it. And it wasn't the one that had you and your shared child in it.

He picked up the phone, cleared his throat, and redialed.

He ignored the tears still falling down his face.

And the sight of your contact that was still favourited.

my bad guys I was in a mood...

[mostly-imagines]

Who Needs Heaven? : The Drop-In

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason meets his daughters

warnings: it’s not specific if the kids are bio or adopted — this probably doesn’t make sense on multiple fronts but i DON’T CARE

see for: the vibes

(2) safe & sound

His body jolts like he’s snapping out of sleep. The first thing he processes is loud conversations echoing, the sound of young girls talking over each other. He surveys over a book in his hands that he’s never heard of, though it’s opened more than halfway through and considerably worn. He drops the book to the side, coming to a stand and scanning over the environment. 

He looks around the adorned living room, taking in details rapidly. He doesn’t recognize the house he’s in but he can tell it’s somewhere he definitely does not belong. The room is filled with books on shelves and picture frames are littered in every free spot in between. The lights are warm and the furniture is colorful with pillows and blankets strewn all over. It’s a stark contrast to the refined stoic Manor he’s so used to; there’s a distinct feeling of homeliness and warmth that seeps through the walls.

He creeps into the front entryway to the house as quietly as he can, peering up the staircase to the landing above for any signs of familiarity or danger. From his right, a girl comes darting into the space, running face first into Jason. He immediately reaches out to steady her but she shows no sign of disruption. She makes a point of holding the wrapped popsicle in her hand away, keeping it safe. She blinks up at him before taking off past him, calling out, “Sorry, dad!”

Dad?

“Anna, I swear to God—” Another girl of similar age runs past, paying him no mind.

He gapes after her, thoroughly confused. Where the hell is he?

“Daddy?” He turns around and looks down to a younger girl who looks about six at most. She stares up at him with wide eyes and freckled cheeks. “Are you okay?”  

He can’t think.

This isn’t…this can’t be real. It can’t be. This is a dream. He got knocked out. He’s hallucinating. He’s dying.

He tries to keep his breath steady as this little girl peers up at him with curious eyes. “Daddy?”

He opens his mouth, struggling to find words, let alone get them out. “Where…where’s your mom?” He can barely make out his own voice.

“She’s in your room,” she tells him, looking up the stairs. 

He treds up the stairs slowly, the chatter downstairs barely getting any quieter. The second floor seems deserted in terms of the presence of children. If, if this were real (or more likely, a dream) you’ll be here somewhere. There’s no scenario where he’d ever imagine a life in a big house with a big family without you—subconsciously or otherwise. 

Several doors line the wide hallway, most of them open. He peers in the room closest to the top of the staircase, finding a heartily decorated bedroom with two twin beds. Polaroids and movie posters litter the walls and clothes are strewn across on top of the bed covers and in a few small piles on the floor. An orange lava lamp illuminates the room from a desk, shining off the glossy cover of magazines. Above, sports medals dangle off the wall against a white board, a scribbled on game of hangman midway through. A full-length mirror covered in stickers along the edges reflects a bookshelf across the room, dozens of books stuffed on each shelf. He blinks vacantly, pulling back from the doorway and continuing on.

He continues on down the right side of the hallway, passing up a bathroom and a closet before peering into the next room. It also has two beds, but it’s filled with remnants of young children. A small table with a tea set laid out on top sits in the middle of the room with various princess dresses draped across the short chairs. Pink bed sheets and butterfly-filled curtains joined by toy cars lined against the wall and strings of pink starry lights hanging from the ceiling. Both beds have stuffed animals arranged in thoughtful piles. It takes Jason a moment to notice the tattered, worn elephant with the green polka dot tie on the bed with the Cinderella comforter. Pickles. It was his when he was a kid. It’s placed delicately at the top of the pile, like he’s the king of the crop. A grand dollhouse sticks out against one of the walls, the dolls all lying asleep in their makeshift beds. Fluffy bubblegum and fuschia rugs scatter the floor just enough that you could jump across the room without ever touching the hardwood.

He turns to the last room, a door directly across that’s just cracked open. He can hear light music coming from inside and the almost inaudible shuffle of movement. He pushes the door open cautiously and takes in the sight of a woman, back to the door, folding laundry on the bed. He doesn’t even need to see your whole figure to know that it’s you.

“Sweetheart?” He sounds like he’s out of breath. 

“Yeah?” You turn around with your same kind eyes and gentle disposition. You look older, not much older but your face is more mature. You even hold yourself a little differently. You quickly notice the way he scans you with a look of bewilderment on his face and jump into concern. “What’s wrong?” You drop the shirt that you’re folding on the bed, approaching him with soft steps. Everything feels fuzzy.

“This—this is…” His voice seems far away, this body feels further. “This isn’t real…”

“What? Jay, what are you talking about?” You’re so genuinely concerned about him it makes his heart hurt and does nothing to help clear his head.

His breathing starts to stutter and his eyes can’t pick something to focus on. Everything is telling him that this is a false sense of security, he’s not safe, you’re not safe, everything’s wrong—

“Woah, hey, hey. It’s okay.” You take his face in your hands the way you know tends to ground him. “Catch me up.”

He tries to focus on the sliding clasp of the necklace around your neck. “I…I think this is…” He doesn’t want to say it. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up only to wake up in a few seconds and find that it was all pretend. Instead, he’ll settle for, “...This hasn’t happened…”

You frown at that, tilting your head. “What do you mean?”

He breathes out heavy, “I think I’m dreaming.” 

“What are you dreaming of?” You walk along this train of thought with him, though he has no idea why you would entertain it. This really must be pretend.

“The future…this is…is this the future?” He’s whispering, he’s not even sure if he’s asking you or himself or maybe even God. 

You’re quiet for a minute before you speak again. “Oh,” you say contemplatively, not nearly as alarmed as you should be. You should probably be calling him crazy, right? “This is—you told me about this. Yeah, it had something to do with that clock guy—”

He blinks a few times, “The Clock King?” That does sound…familiar. Was he—he was with Bruce wasn’t he? Or maybe Dick. Both?

You nod, “Yeah, yeah. You said you ‘time traveled’ for a minute...but that was in, like…”

He fills in the blank with the year as he remembers it and your eyes go wide. “Well, this would be a bit of a surprise then.”

“We have kids?”

You laugh, brushing his hair back gently, “Yes. Yes, we definitely do. Five girls.”

“Five?” He breathes.

“Yeah. Wasn’t the plan but…” you shrug easily, “Here we are.” 

He barely stops his next question from coming out of his mouth and replaces it. “Is this something I should be hearing?”

“What?” You tilt your head for a second before realization flashes across your face. “Oh, you don’t end up remembering any of this.” You shrug, mouth scrunched up to the side, “So why not?”

He does really want to hear about them. “Please.” He whispers faintly. 

You nod reposefully, “Okay, well…” you pause, eyes on the ceiling. “Oh, wait.” You dart over to the bookshelf against the wall and pull a book from the second shelf from the top, a large pink photo album.

You shuffle back, guiding him to the bed and sitting thigh to thigh with him and placing the album on your laps. You flip it open to the first page, which displays an array of photos of who must be his daughter.

“This is Mia—Miriam—she’s the oldest. She’s thirteen now, she’s very smart and a sort of a perfectionist. Really a perfectionist.” A couple of her baby pictures were taken in your apartment and it makes his heart absolutely melt to see you as he left you, holding a baby—his baby—with a glowing smile on your face. There’s another photo of her, kindergarten aged, dressed up as Spoiler for halloween. One shows her on a bike with shimmery handlebar streams, Jason holding her steady as she learns. He’s wearing the brightest smile he’s ever seen on his own face.

“Then there’s the twins,” you continue, flipping to the next page. You laugh when his breath hitches at that. “I know. It’s not as scary as it sounds. Well, not now that they’re older. Ryan and Anna.” You point to them as you say their names, and he recognizes them quickly as the two girls that had run past the stairs. The twins look identical, the only discernible difference found in that Ryan is grinning in every picture with a glint in her eyes and Anna nearly always has a stoic look on her face. 

“Ryan is her father’s daughter. She thinks she’s very clever and even more funny, and she is but don’t tell her that, it goes straight to her head.”

There’s a picture that has to be a couple of years old by now of the two of them dressed in what looks like brand new soccer gear. Another depicts one of them chasing Tim with a firework sparkler at dusk. He sees one of Ryan covered in dirt and tiny cuts, smiling big, helmet crooked on her head.

“Anna’s a happy kid, she is. Don’t let her attitude trick you—she just likes to keep her feelings to herself.” Anna’s pictures remind him of Damian in some ways. The very intentional lack of a smile but the happiness still seeps through anyways. One of her pictures has her cuddling with two rottweiler puppies in classic Damian style. Another one shows her a bit older, on Jason’s shoulders, surveying the land.  

You turn to the next page, “And Laine, uh, Elaine,” you smile, “She’s a bit eccentric. She lives in her own world but she’ll bring you into it with her. She likes magic and glitter and offbeat things.” Laine’s pictures leave a particular warmth in his heart. She has the absolute widest smile and the brightest eyes he’s ever seen. One photo shows her having a picnic with several stuffed animals, another has her drawing a rainbow with sidewalk chalk. One picture towards the bottom of the page grabs his eye, one of Laine happily braiding Cass’ short hair at what appears to be the Manor.

“And then the little one is Aurora—Rory,” You turn to a page full of pictures of the wide-eyed girl, who has the sweetest baby face. He can tell from the pictures alone that she has your personality. You point to a picture of her giggling with bubbles all in her hair as you explain, “She’s still small but she has a big heart and a very sensitive soul already.” Jason’s practically staring a hole in the picture of Rory as a newborn in the hospital, held delicately by Bruce.

You play with the hair at the nape of his neck as he processes quietly, letting him take his time.

“They’re happy?” He asks in a whisper.

“We’re happy.” You say affirmingly. He looks you in the eyes and you see a specific vulnerability in his that you haven’t seen in a long time. “You are a good dad, Jay.”

He’s still surprised that you can read him like a book, even though at this point you’d have been together for at least fifteen-some years. His eyes burn and he’s not sure he can keep it together. But you dig the knife in all the same, “They love you. A lot. We couldn’t live without you.”

You flip through until you find a page later in the book, plopping it back open fully. The first picture he takes note of shows him outside with picked flowers scattered in his hair wherever they’ll stay put, Laine and Rory trying to straighten them out. Another is of Anna hesitantly feeding a horse an apple, Jason crouched next to her, reassuring her. On the other page, Rory is mid-air being thrown into an absolutely massive leaf pile, glee adorning her face. He turns the page to find one of the girls with a red hoodie pulled over her head and a makeshift mask made from a red plastic plate with holes cut out for the eyes. One has Mia resting against his back, passed out, as he helps Ryan tie off a friendship bracelet on her wrist.

This isn’t—he doesn’t deserve this. This can’t be true, this is more than a happy ending and he’d never even expected you to love him this long, let alone give him the world and then some. He stares at the page for a while, trying to burn every detail into his head. 

You tear your gaze away from his face to glance at the clock on the side table, muttering, “Oh shit. Hang on.”

His eyes follow you as you stand from the bed and walk across the room to the door, cracking it open a few inches before shouting out, “Bed!”

There’s a brief delay before a clamor starts towards them, all five girls thumping up the stairs.  

You turn back to him, heedfully, “You can stay in here if you want. They’re a little…a lot.” You say tentatively. Well, if there’s anything he’s accustomed to it’s big families with bigger personalities.

Jason lingers behind you as you enter the hallway, looking like a little kid in an unfamiliar place. Whatever conversations were going on downstairs have simply moved location, no urgency present whatsoever to continue on with the progression of the night. You’re trying to verbally corral them towards their respective bedrooms, but it’s a tough job with two clear headed parents on a good day.

He stands frozen in the midst of the clutter of them as they rattle off to you and to each other. He’s scared to say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing. He doesn’t want to upset or alarm them. But because he is their father, they don’t need him to do anything strange to realize that he’s being strange.

Ryan squints up at him, “What’s wrong with you?”

The question grabs Laine’s attention and she looks to you with wide eyes, “What’s wrong with Dad?”

You shake your head, “Nothing’s—”

“He’s not having a stroke already, is he?” Anna faints, no alarm in her words. Mia thumps the back of her head for that with no returning acknowledgement given by Anna.

Ryan is looking at him like she’s sizing him up. Something you did not get a chance to tell him about Ryan is that she can smell blood in the water like a shark. So it’s not surprising to you that she picks up on Jason’s disoriented state.

“Father?” She calls out sweetly.

You sigh, “Ryan—”

“No, it’s okay. I want to ask dad specifically.” She turns him away from you with a smile. She doesn’t know what’s going on and she doesn’t need to. She’s an opportunist like that. “Could I have the last popsicle?”

Anna cuts in harshly, “You better n—”

“Hey Annie, few notes for ya,” Ryan says with widened eyes and a pointed finger, “One, you shouldn’t interrupt your father, it’s disrespectful,” Anna’s face contorts at that, and she’s about to bite back but she’s cut off quickly by Ryan’s dedication to dishing out her hypocritical sermon. “Two, you shouldn’t interrupt me because it’s potentially the single greatest sin you’ll ever—”

Alright, you gave her a chance to turn it around, she’s done now. “No, you’re all going to bed now and if you’re lucky that popsicle is still there when you get home from school tomorrow.” You tell Ryan with a pointed look. She gives you a half-hearted glare, absolutely nothing compared to her real one. 

“Mom, you said—” Mia throws her hands up as she recounts a promise that you may or may not have given her, it’s anyone’s guess. 

Then Anna starts up, “That’s not fair, I called—”

Rory pipes up from behind you. “We’re supposed to read our story first.”

You inhale sharply, turning to face her, “Oh—” you crouch down to her level, holding her waist. “How about I read it tonight, Rory?”

She frowns, “Daddy always reads it.”

Ryan taps on Jason’s shoulder, pulling him closer. “Dad, listen,” she says lowly, like she’s trying to get him in on the deal of the century. “Anna doesn’t deserve it, she’s rooting for you to stroke out—”

You frown at Rory with repentance, “I know sweetheart, but—”

Laine looks quite contemplative as she announces, “It’s unholy to break tradition.”

You scrunch up your face and swivel your head to her, “What?”

This declaration does enough to break Ryan away from her scheme. She turns to her and says flatly, “You haven’t said anything that makes sense in like two weeks.” 

Jason’s mind is going a mile a minute, trying to process the fifteen things that are going on all at once and take in the fact that these are his children. His daughters and they’re so loud and opinionated and bold and he loves it. He thinks this is the closest he’ll ever get to heaven. Hell, he’d take this over heaven a million times over.

“Mom. Mom!” Mia urges, “Can you help me?”

Your head stutters between your daughters, “I—yeah. Rory, just—”

“I can do it.” He says quietly.

“Yeah?” You look up at him, hopefully, genuinely delighted that he wants to jump into this mess without the twelve years of prep that you’re dependent on. 

“Yeah.” He nods, determined and you and Rory smile up at him. Mia all but yanks you up from the floor, pulling you to her room and you can just barely make out Ryan’s hushed murmur of, “I’m getting the popsicle…”

Rory takes Jason’s hand, drowning her own in his. She leads him to the pink bedroom with all the toys, and climbs onto the unicorn bed, shoving all but a few of the stuffed animals onto the floor. Elaine follows close behind and does the same with her own bed, though the only one she keeps is Pickles.

He stands next to the bed a bit awkwardly as she pulls a book off the table next to her, the length of the book easily taking up half her arms. It takes her looking up at him expectantly for him to get the hint, shuffling to squeeze in next to her on the small bed. 

She hands him the book and he regards it with a smile. Little Women. He pauses as he starts to open it, “Where, um…where did we leave off?”

She looks at him funny, smiling like he’s messing with her. She flips the book open a little more than halfway through and stops on chapter fifteen. She presses her pointer finger down to the start of the chapter with a thump. “Right here.”

Jason takes a steadying breath and begins reading in the same soft voice he reads to you in, and it seems to appease both girls. He’s not processing what he’s saying as he sits there with his littlest daughter tucked into his side and hanging on to every last word. He can feel her breathing in and out softly and it all feels so surreal now. 

““I don't think you'll blame me, for I only sold what was my own." As she spoke, Jo took off her bonnet, and a general outcry arose, for all her abundant hair was cut short.” Rory giggles as Laine gasps, and Jason can feel the rhythm of his heart fluttering in a new way. 

He reads to the end of the chapter and returns the book to its place on the side table, and reluctantly pulls away from Rory, standing up again. He tucks her nicely, if not inexperienced, into the sheets and kisses her forehead. She immediately holds out her toy bear, silently requesting the same treatment for him. Jason kisses the bear too, happily. He does the same for Laine, taking particular note of the way she hugs Pickles to her chest tightly. 

He starts towards the door, but is quickly put to a halt. “Wait,” Laine calls out. He turns back to her wide-eyed, terrified he did something wrong. “The lights,” she says, looking up to the ceiling at the dangling stars. Oh, right. She watches him skeptically as he innocently looks around for the switch, and Rory tilts her head at him, not sure what he’s playing at. 

“It’s right there,” Rory points with a mildly sullen look to where the mechanism dangles near the outlet. Jason quickly flicks the lights on, the soft orange-pink glow of stars illuminating against the walls. Rory’s pleased enough and adjusts to get more comfortable in her bed. 

Laine however, hisses out a, “Hey,” gesturing him towards her. He sidesteps the tea table and comes around to her side of the room, kneeling down by her bed attentively. She glances over at Rory before asking in a hushed voice, “Are you an alien?” 

That, he wasn’t expecting. “...What?” 

She shakes her head reassuringly, “It’s okay, I won’t tell. But um…I would like my dad back eventually please. If that’s okay.”  

His breath stutters and he forces out an, “O—okay.”

She holds out her pinky and it takes him a second to register what she’s asking. He wordlessly pinky promises her and she smiles big, pleased with the agreement.

He stands again, feeling light headed as he heads for the door. 

“Goodnight, Daddy,” Rory murmurs against the pillow, watching him leave.

His gaze flickers back and forth from them to make sure they like having the door closed, Rory watches him bemusedly and Laine nods at him slyly with a twinkle in her eyes. “Goodnight, Dad.”

“Goodnight,” He exhales, not as loud as he meant to. He clicks the door shut softly and there’s a warmth in his chest that he could get addicted to.

He wanders down the hall towards the sound of your voice, passing Anna and Ryan climbing under their covers and murmuring something to each other, half eaten popsicle in the ladders hand. He passes the staircase, peering his head into the next room over. His eyes immediately land on you and Mia stood in front of an armoire, shuffling through clothes having an exchange of considerative words.

Mia’s room is very neat and put together, everything is placed with much more intention than in the other girls rooms. Her room has more mellow colors too, largely white with soft shades of pastels throughout. There’s a desk with organized notebooks and multiple vases of flowers, with bundles of yarn placed nicely in a basket in the corner. A tall bookshelf is filled with fifty-some books with a violin case leaning up against it. Nail polishes rest beside a jewelry box on the side table next to her bed. She also has picture frames across the walls, some containing photos of flora, others of the family, and a few of what appears to be her own sketches.

“—worried it’s too showy, you know?”

You hum, “I don’t think so, I mean, not for picture day.” 

Mia turns to Jason, shirt held up against her body. “What do you think?”

He takes a second to bounce back from the surprise of being asked the question, “I, uh…I like it.”

You smile at him as Mia faces you again, “Okay, so this with that flowy lilac skirt?”

“The lilac…yeah, that would be cute.”

She nods pleased, draping the shirt over the back of the armchair in the corner.

You and Jason head out of the room, closing the door on your way out so she can change into her pajamas. 

“Goodnight!” she calls out through the crack in the door. You and Jason return it in sync, clicking the door closed. You hold his hand as you walk past the twins' open door, giving them the same sentiment with Jason’s own following quickly after. They call it out back, louder than necessary, and you close your bedroom door behind the two of you.

You rest against the door and he leans his head back against the wall next to you, glancing over at you. “I won’t remember any of this?” He seems dejected at the idea, not happy to have been handed the world and then having it swiped from his memory immediately after.

You consider it for a second, shaking your head, “I don’t think so.”

He’s quiet for a bit, thinking. “Do you have a marker?”

“A marker?” You look around casually, “Uh, yeah.” You unclip a sharpie from the mini calendar pinned against the wall, tossing it to him. You watch curiously as he holds his forearm out in front of him, popping the lid off with his mouth.

The light in the room starts to dim dramatically until his vision is completely dark. The pull of gravity on his body feels wrong and a pang of fire shoots against the side of his head.   

“Hood.” He hears in the darkness, “Hood.” The commanding voice startles him awake once again. “Are you alright?” 

He blinks up at Batman blearily, feeling like he’s just gotten hit over the head with a chair. “What…what—”

“The Clock King. He threw some sort of device at you. It knocked you out for a few minutes. Are you alright?”

He feels dizzy. “Uh…yeah.”

He cranes his head to glance over at where the Clock King is hunched over on the ground, handcuffed, inspecting the cartridge of his device closely. “Damn it, I knew it wasn’t right. Meant to knock him into the past.” He tells Nightwing like it’s some common mistake they can bond over. 

Nightwing moues at him, “I don’t care?”

Knock him into the—did he go to the future? He can’t get his thoughts in order, let alone summon memories from the future. Frankly, it doesn’t matter that much to him right now—he’s sore and wants to just fall asleep next to you. 

He sits up slowly, grimacing as the pain in his head sharpens for a moment. Batman clasps his hand on his shoulder, holding him steady. “Can you stand?”

Hood grunts and pushes himself up, anchoring his weight against the ground. “Fuck. I’m going home.”

Batman says nothing to protest, instead joining Nightwing and pulling The Clock King up from the ground. Jason stumbles away towards his bike, thankful that he’s only a couple miles away from your apartment. Jesus, the future? You’re not going to believe that shit.

He climbs onto the bike with a groan, pushing up his sleeves as he prepares to start the bike. He doesn’t notice it until he revs it, but when he looks down at his left arm, he sees scribbled on his arm in sharpie:

WE’RE HAPPY

vote: do you have a favorite daughter?

❤️ REBLOGGING = SUPPORTING ❤️

[bluemoonbun]

what if there was a yandere batfam x villain!mom!reader. More specifically, I'm thinking of this (Fem reader);

Reader is a (technically) small threat. They're well known, but they mostly go after the rich and police. Unfortunately, that describes everyone in/closely involved with the Batfamily. Attempts at capture are futile, however, since they seem to rival Bruce in contingency plans.

Eventually, Jason steps up to bat and tries to catch them. However, there's one thing that Jason picked up from Bruce; his type is crime.

You and Jason have Batman-and-Catwoman-esque chases throughout Gotham, Jason blaming your escape on you being too crafty while denying any help. You see Jason's scars and admit that you have a pretty bad one on your side, eventually showing it to him when you feel comfortable taking your clothes off. Jason has had to hide more hickeys, bite marks, and scratches on his back than anyone would hazard to guess.

One day, however, you disappear. The Batfam is relieved that you've finally stopped your reign of terror over Gotham, but Jason is worried.

The Batfam all go out for ice cream a few months later for something unrelated, when Jason catches sight of something familiar.

A scar winding up someone's side. A scar he's seen before. A scar that's stretched due to a bump.

Dick walks into his back when Jason freezes. Judging by the size, you've been pregnant for about as long as you've been off of the streets. So that's where you've been...

Why didn't you tell him? Did you think he didn't love you enough? Did he not show you enough times that he loved you? Did you think that it wouldn't work because he was working with Batman? He wasn't that close with him! He'd help you find a nice apartment in Crime Alley, or, hell, you could move in with him! He wasn't sure how good of a dad he'd be, but he'd try! Isn't that what parenting is about?

Oh god, he hasn't been around for so much of your pregnancy already. He needs to talk to you!

"...Jason. Earth to Jason Todd? Hello?" Dick says, waving his hand through the thoughts swirling in front of his eyes. Jason starts slightly as he remembers where he was. Damian begins walking towards you. Or rather, the ice cream store you were in front of.

While you were out of earshot, he saw as you looked at Damian. You smiled, probably asking where his parents are, because he gestured behind him. He watched as your smile fell into shock as your eyes landed on him, hand instinctively going to your stomach before you glanced at a nearby alleyway before looking back at him.

He took the hint. Now you're facing each other, unasked and uncountable questions floating between the both of you. Jason, however, asked the worst question possible in that moment.

"Is it mine?"

The slap was warranted, honestly.

The next few questions come more easily. You're around 24 weeks along, you've been living alone for the most part, you've obviously taken time off to avoid any injuries/toxic exposure to the baby, etc. Eventually, he asks why you never told him, and the reason was twofold. On one hand, telling him would've required doing some sort of crime for the batfamily to follow and him being the one that caught you, which you had known was debateable since he mentioned how Bruce and the Robins offered to tag along. On the other, the chance of everything crashing and burning because of this was too great. You were too willing to accept that it was truly just like what Batman and Catwoman had, something fun and fleeting but nothing deeper than that. You weren't going to risk your child because you felt loved.

Jason takes your hands and tells you his full legal name. At first you're confused, but he tells you more. He tells you how long he's been a vigilante, where he lives, even the code to his apartment. He doesn't see any of this as fleeting. This, to him, was a relationship that just needed a full push to become a "proper" one.

He places his hands and yours on your stomach.

"My name is Jason Peter Todd, I'm the vigilante Red Hood, son of Bruce Wayne, and... I'm gonna be a dad if you'll let me."

You smile and hug him, unable to talk around the lump in your throat.

"Jason...? What the fuck are you doing?" says Dick.

He turns around and realizes that the entire batfamily had heard him.

"So, she's pregnant with your child?" Damian glances around, trying to get another look at your belly.

"Of everyone I thought would get a villain pregnant... you weren't high on that list." Barbara chimes in.

"I'm gonna be a grandfather?" Bruce asks

---

So yeah, gist of it is that Jason gets Reader pregnant, Reader gets some information that Batman uses to justify keeping you in the manor, along with the half truth of "keeping appearances", since the tabloids would eat you alive if they caught evidence of a member of the Wayne family being a deadbeat dad, and over time, the family becomes more and more suffocating until your baby is born, in which they somehow make themselves a nuisance in child rearing.

Asks are welcome!

[cybergoth1]

beyond the cowl | prologue | batfamily x isekaide!reader

masterlist | chapter 01.

synopsis: ❛❛you're just a normal twenty-one-year old girl trying to navigate life with a shitty job and a useless degree. life isn't easy, and between expensive therapy sessions and the constant feeling of failure, you suddenly wake up in a body that wasn't yours, with a past that wasn't yours. now, in another dimension, you're dealing with the fact that you're a crucial part of the caped crusade that shaped bruce wayne's life. you're the second robin, the former girl wonder, and the vigilant gotham needed so much.❞

warnings/tags: swearing. reader being emotionally immature bc we love toxic women. no beta we die like jason todd. reader really needs her lexapro. alfred being a sweetheart in the end (pls lets pretend bane never killed him).

Sometimes you felt like they had lied to you. Straight to your face. Your friends, your family and your professors. 

They all made you believe that something important was out there, just waiting for you. They patted your back while you poured out your insecurities like the self-doubting idiot you are, and with the most convincing tone, told you that the world was your oyster. That opportunities are everywhere.

They said you shouldn't be that worried about getting a job. You still have plenty of time after graduating. Right? 

Right.

Their nice words turned out to be useless the moment you stepped out of college. Your dreams and expectations were shattered during your first month sending out resumes to every single company and agency you could find. And then, before you knew it, eight months had passed without you landing a decent job. The endless rejection emails and mounting bills started to make you lose sleep as you spent countless nights tossing and turning in your single bed.

That’s why you ended up here, one year later, in a café downtown, learning the difference between a flat white and a cappuccino for a living.

You wiped down the counter for the sixth time in the past half hour, keeping an eye out for any trace of coffee left by the last customer when he spilled it all over your hands and apron. The feeling of the cloth under your fingers was the only thing grounding you as your thoughts began to spiral for the third time that day. You couldn’t even hear the annoying hiss of the espresso machine or your manager's high-pitched voice nagging at you about some shit you didn't care about.

You only lifted your head when a customer called you by your name. It was the same high school kid who always ordered a caramel macchiato. Mia or something. Your mind wandered as you pulled a shot of espresso for the new order.

You shouldn’t be here.

You shouldn't be pretending your lifetime dreams were nothing. You shouldn’t be pretending that you feel fulfilled cleaning counters and serving people who barely looked up at your face while you handed them their orders.

You heard Mia asking for extra vanilla syrup.

Shit, that was so unfair to you. You did everything right; every single thing they told you to do. You checked all the boxes.

You got a degree, unlike half of your family, who barely finished high school. You didn’t get knocked up at sixteen, unlike your mom and older sister, and you didn’t get addicted to fucking alcohol, unlike your dad. So why are you still living like this — paycheck to paycheck, unable to afford dental care, healthcare, or even the most basic stuff like a new pair of shoes.

Deep down, you know why.

Poverty is an eternal, miserable, and unbreakable cycle — you were just naïve enough to think you could overcome it with simple actions. You kept your eyes fixed on the tall iced latte in your hand while zoning out. Yeah, time for another therapy session.

“Here you go” you tried to smile while handing her the cup. Hiding your growing anxiety and negative thoughts behind your customer service voice was a skill you were slowly, but surely, building up. But you probably looked weird as fuck since she gave you an awkward smile while muttering a "thanks".

"I still don’t know how you got this job. You look like a psychopath," you heard Nate, your coworker, from behind you, holding an empty milk pitcher.

He would be a nice, solid dude if he didn't act like a middle school bully most of the time.

"Yeah?" you rolled your eyes, finally turning your body to look at him. Damn, he really needed to shave his sideburns; he looked ridiculous. "Want me to tell you what you look like?"

His red hair and weird face made him look like a distressed orangutan. A very ugly orangutan.

He just smirked at your sarcastic tone. Fucking cunt.

"Nah, I'm good".

As the rest of the shift slowly passed, you kept checking your phone over and over, waiting for that email from the agency you applied to two weeks ago. You got nothing, as usual. Nothing besides a text from your sister asking for forty dollars; she probably ran out of baby formula again.

With a loud sigh, you decided to scroll through Instagram while Nate flirted with some customers. You quickly noticed that your college friend Christine had just been promoted again. She had been working at her father's company since her sophomore year, and her longtime boyfriend, Tom, had proposed to her in front of the Eiffel Tower.

Uh, wow, that's nice—good for her.

"Congrats, babe! Oh my god, he's so lucky to have you in his life. And good luck at your new job," you send her a quick DM, like a good friend would.

And you are, objectively, a good friend. You're even congratulating her on her promotion as if she weren't a spoiled, airheaded bitch who never accomplished anything on her own. Christine had everything handed to her on a silver platter; her parents got her an amazing job at their company, then paid for her boob job, her nose job, her new car, and her apartment—the list goes on.

You watched the couple showing off the engagement ring under the Parisian sunset and felt like the most self-absorbed cunt on Earth. At this point, you're used to feeling like that, at least twice a day. You spent the rest of your shift watching her stories over and over until it was time to close.

“I’m heading out,” you said to Nate as you finally grabbed your stuff from the break room. The city felt colder than usual that time of year; you could feel your lips getting chapped every time you stepped outside, so you quickly wrapped your old yellow scarf around your neck while zipping up your jacket. The café was already empty; the other employees had left fifteen minutes earlier, leaving just the two of you to close up.

Nate barely looked at you when you said goodbye to him.

You didn't care.

During your walk to the bus stop, you looked around the dark street pretending you’re not totally shitting yourself under the dim streetlights—holding your purse tightly against your frame, like you're about to be mugged by the thin air.

In those moments of raw vulnerability and panic, the whole idea of vigilantism seemed pretty cool. People in latex or spandex you don't actually know, jumping off buildings and beating up bad guys, defending the working class and pretty girls in distress. That's pretty neat, uh?

And very unrealistic.

Once inside the bus and comfortably seated, you let your thoughts wander again. You didn't know what you were doing with your life anymore. You never did, in fact.

The beauty of the night, the cold air coming from the bus's open windows, and the lights of the buildings dancing against the dark sky managed to soothe some of your pain for a few minutes. Your legs ached after hours of standing behind the counter, you felt burns on your hands, and your feet were uncomfortably squeezed into shoes that were a size too small.

Gradually, you fell asleep leaning against the bus seat, thinking about a nice pair of shoes you saw in the mall three days ago.

The first thing you noticed while slowly waking up was how comfortable you felt. The fabric beneath your body was as soft as silk, and the scent of fresh lavender emanating from it indicated that it had been recently washed—fuck, what is this? Heaven? You whined, shoving your whole face against it and breathing in.

Yeah, that’s definitely lavender—

Wait.

Public transportation didn’t smell like lavender, last time you checked. Your whole body went rigid as a cold shiver ran down your spine.

You immediately opened your eyes.

Fuck, fuck. What the fuck is happening?

You weren't on a bus anymore, that's for sure. Jesus, where's your purse?

“Fuck!” you almost screamed in pure panic as a painful sensation spread between your ribs and stomach, burning so much it seemed to take your breath away as you tried to sit up.

You were on a bed. A king-size bed. Sitting on silk sheets.

“Oh my god, someone kidnapped me—”

You looked around the bedroom as tears immediately filled your wide eyes. Your heart raced, and your hands trembled as you tried to make sense of the unfamiliar place you had woken up in.

The growing panic and fear for your life were so overwhelming that you couldn’t even notice the beautiful, very personal decor around the room or the several photos on the walls and desk, showing your face next to people you had never seen in your entire life.

"Oh, miss, thank God you're awake" a gentle voice said — is that a british accent? — close to the bedroom's door.

That's it, you're going to be killed by a weird, rich old man, and he's going to sell your organs on the black market.

Oh God, you quietly sobbed, you've always slept on the bus on your way back home, and you've never had any problems before—

Through the tears that blurred your vision, you could finally make out the figure of a tall man slowly approaching your bed. He was holding a cup of tea and a plate with what looked like a sandwich.

A cucumber sandwich.

"It seems like you may have hit your head quite hard. And your ribs," he said, handing you the cup and placing the plate on the bedside table. The man sighed loudly. "Master Damian really needs to contain his enthusiasm during sparring sessions."

The cup shook in your left hand as you looked at him with tearful eyes. He politely pretended not to notice your desperate state or the tears in the corners of your eyes as he walked back to the door.

"Hey, Alfie, have you seen my white socks?" another voice called out, this time from the hall.

"They're still on your bedroom drawers, Master Dick."

"Oh, right, sorry."

Wait, that was Batman's butler or—

Your vision faded to black as you collapsed back onto the silk sheets.

tag-list: @rosescarlettx, @btsloveer07-blog, @rainbowstar, @xingyunny, @mikyapixie, @sheep-from-rad, @fandomly-obsessed, @migilore, @natsukicookies, @candlewitch-cryptic, @socialmess-jery, @mona1704, @dieforcoffee26, @stupouid, @astrelz, @dind1n, @cxcilla, @mimi-sanisanidiot, @ceridwyn3, @sunako50

[kaleidoscopewritings19]

Bruce Wayne x Bat!Mom

Title: Please Come Home for Christmas

Warning(s): NONE

Character(s): Bruce Wayne, f!x reader/Batmom, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth

Prompts used are in bold and italicized; italicized paragraphs are flashbacks/memories; song used is Please Come Home For Christmas (words are in red/italicized.)

SONG CAN BE PLAYED AT THIS SYMBOL 🎵 and the song should end about the time the last verse has been typed out. Song will be linked at that music note for your convenience. But here’s the link to song

MY WORKS ARE NOT TO BE TRANSLATED OR POSTED ANYWHERE ELSE! ©️

______

Christmas was your favorite holiday; the Christmas lights, the ambiance, the decorations, and being surrounded by your family made you feel complete.

The boys were in charge of decorating the seven foot Christmas tree. It was the first year you and Bruce had decided to let them take over putting up the tree and decorating it. While the boys decorated the tree in the living room, you were in the kitchen baking sugar cookies with the assistance of Bruce, while Alfred instructed the boys.

Bruce was going through the box of cookie cutters, “Seriously? You have a Batman cookie cutter?” He asked and you smiled, while pouring the two of you a glass of wine. “Of course. I figured we could do a Batman Christmas themed cookie.” Bruce rolled his eyes, and found the ziploc bag full of the normal Christmas cookie cutters.

As the two of you rolled out the cookie dough and began cutting out the festive shapes, the boys could be heard arguing in the living room. You wiped your hands on your apron, and Bruce followed quietly behind you.

Jason and Dick were trying to pull the Christmas tree out of the box, with Damian instructing them. “You have to shimmy it!” He yelled at his two older brothers. “SHIMMY!…. SHIMMY!….. SHIMMY!!”

“SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!” Jason yelled. Alfred walked over to the credenza and poured himself a glass of bourbon before downing it in one gulp. Tim was in the corner testing the lights, and Damian turned to look over at you and Bruce. “Don’t we have people to do this?” He asked and Bruce shook his head.

“No. Since your mom and I got married, we always decorated the interior of the house. You don’t need hired help for everything, Damian.” He said, and Damian flung back on to the couch.

You walked over to the couch and ruffled Damian’s hair, “These type of things take time. Decorating is supposed to be fun, and not a chore. So c’mon. Get up. Dad and I can help get the tree out of the box.”

You and Bruce helped get the tree out of the box and then fluffed out the branches. “There, now all you boys have to do is decorate it.” You stood up from the floor, and the tone in the room seemed more bright.

Alfred walked over to the record player and put on an old Christmas record, “It wouldn’t be Christmas decorating if we didn’t have on a record.”

The boys agreed with him simultaneously, and then got to work sorting out the different ornaments. Bruce followed you back into the kitchen, and continued to cut out and bake the remainder of the cookie dough. When you had placed the last sheet of cookies into the oven, Bruce pressed a kiss to your lips. “I’ll be right back.”

You sipped from your glass of wine, and Bruce brought a smaller record player into the kitchen. He delicately placed a vinyl down, and music filled the kitchen.

The all too familiar tune of Please Come Home for Christmas filled your ears- the voices of the Eagles (one of your favorite bands) sang the first lyric. You smiled at Bruce, and he walked around the kitchen island.

He took the glass of wine from your hands and sat it down on the marble counter top. “May I have this dance, Mrs. Wayne?” He asked and you pulled his body into yours. “Always.”

He held your hips firmly and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

My baby’s gone, I have no friends

To wish me greetings once again..

His forehead leaned against yours, and the two of you swayed to the music. Unbeknownst to you, Alfred and the boys watched from the pass-through window, but the two of you were too lost in each other to notice. “Why are they dancing to a sad song?” Jason asked and Alfred watched the two of you in awe.

“Let me tell you a story.” Alfred started and the boys turned their attention to Alfred. “Your parents had married on December 15th— this year will be their 15th wedding anniversary. Your mum was 22 years of age and your father 25. They had decided they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together.” The boys listened intently,

“Your father, had just become the Batman, and didn’t want to take a break from it. Even if it was taking time from them celebrating this new adventure in life. Your mum had left, because he decided that being Batman was far more important than staying home for a couple of weeks.”

You and Bruce had insisted on Alfred taking the night off so the two of you could celebrate your honeymoon, and decorate the Christmas tree alone. Bora Bora was the plan, but you had wanted to celebrate Christmas at home, and Bruce agreed. You were sitting on the floor next to Bruce as he opened a box of Christmas tree lights. “I don’t care what the box says, these lights are definitely not untangled.” Bruce mumbled, and you smiled.

“There’s glitter in my hair, on my clothes, and somehow, in my coffee. This is chaos.” You replied and Bruce pressed a kiss to your temple. “Well, you look hot covered in glitter.”

The two of you helped each other decorate the tree, and shared kisses in between. Wayne Manor was being filled with Christmas music, laughter, and lots of love.

The Christmas tree was big, bright, and beautiful. It lit up the entire room, and the fire crackling set the perfect ambiance. Bruce laid out blankets and pillows in front of the fireplace, and he convinced you that instead of sleeping in the bed, the two of you could sleep in front of the fireplace.

The two of you had fallen asleep in each other’s arms, wrapped up in nothing but the blankets. When you had woken up, your watch read 11:47 PM, and Bruce was no where to be found.

You had checked the bedroom, bathroom, the study, and even the garage. Then it had dawned on you; he was probably down in the batcave. You slipped on your silk robe, and pressed the keys on the piano, and the bookcase had opened, revealing the long, dark cave entrance.

The cool air nipped at your skin, and sure enough, there was Bruce on the platform in the middle of the water. He was pulling on his armor, and you started to walk across the short bridge; the sound of the waterfall covering the sounds of your feet.

“Bruce, what are you doing?” You asked and he jumped a little.

“Well, I decided to patrol. There’s a lot of criminal activity tonight.” He said as he turned around in the chair to face you.

You stepped in front of him; his hands traced up your bare leg, then pulling you closer to his body. You looked down at him, your fingers running through his hair, “I thought we had agreed that you wouldn’t patrol for two weeks. That we would enjoy our honeymoon, and Christmas together.”

He stood up from the chair and he sat his cowl on the desk. “It will just be tonight, baby.” He said as his fingers combed through your hair.

His eyes were your weakness, and he knew you would break underneath his gaze, “I promise it will just be for tonight.“ he whispered, and you loosened the tie to your robe, revealing your naked frame to him. A smirk worked its way across his face, and he pulled you closer to him, “When I get home, I’ll make it up to you Mrs. Wayne.”

Bruce pressed a kiss to your neck, and you sighed while covering up your body. “Fine. But only for tonight.”

But ‘only for tonight’ turned into a week. He went out every night that week, and you had decided enough was enough. One night, when Bruce had left, you packed a suitcase and booked a trip to London. If you were going to spend your honeymoon alone, you were going to have fun alone- in a different country.

“So your mum left the country and went to London. Your father, of course, did not notice she was gone until the afternoon of the next day.” Alfred stated, and he brought the boys to the living room to finish telling the story.

“Master B called me in a panic, and I came home straightaway. I feared that one of the adversaries had figured out who the Batman was, and took Miss Y/N.” Alfred pulled a piece a paper from the display books on the coffee table. “I found this note on this very coffee table, explaining where she was. Your father back then… He could be quite oblivious to these sort of things.”

~~~~~~~~~

Dearest Bruce,

I love you with all of my heart, but spending these nights alone made me realize that maybe I wasn’t meant to be the wife of the Batman. I married you, Bruce. I find it tough to share you with the people of Gotham. Deep down, I know this city needs you- desperately. But I need you too. I am going to London for the remainder of our honeymoon, and I promise I will come back to Gotham so we can sort all of this out.

With love,

Y/N

~~~~~~~~~

The boys passed the letter around, “Why didn’t she just stay and tell him?” Jason asked and Alfred shrugged his shoulders.

“Your father could hear words, but he never truly listened. They were young, Jason. Communicating is something that is learned throughout the course of marriage. It’s not always easy, and it takes two to learn, grow, and adapt with one another. Luckily, your parents worked through it, and learned.” Alfred stated and no one noticed you and Bruce standing in the doorway.

“Well, what happened next?” Tim asked and Bruce answered.

“When Alfred found the note, I read it. I realized I promised to take time off from Batman and spend time with my wife. And I didn’t keep that promise.” Bruce sat down in the recliner, and you sat down on the arm of the chair.

His hand rested on your lower back, “I didn’t know how to distribute my time- she was my girlfriend when I started Batman. She had her own life, and it wasn’t until after she left I realized that she gave up a part of her life to create one with me. She couldn’t do that alone.”

You turned to look at Bruce, “I went after her, and the entire trip there, all I could think about was the promise I made and didn’t keep. Most people wouldn’t see it as a big deal, but I made a commitment to you. A life long commitment- and if I didn’t keep my promise for those two weeks like you had asked, how would you ever trust my future promises, or the promises I made when we exchanged our vows?” He spoke to you directly now.

Bruce stared up into your eyes, and he pulled you down to his lap, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Going after you, was the best decision I ever made.” He pressed a kiss to your lips, and the boys made gagging sounds.

“Ew! Please stop!”

“Get a room!”

“Wait- what did them dancing to that sad song have anything to do with their marital problem?” Damian asked, and you turned to look at them.

You looked at Bruce for confirmation to finish the story. Bruce nodded and his cheeks turned red, “Well, I left the 22nd, and he didn’t find out where I was until the afternoon of the 23rd. Then it took him until the 24th to find pilots to fly the Wayne jet, and that night he arrived in London.” You smiled at Bruce. “So on the night of Christmas Eve, I decided to have dinner in the hotel’s restaurant. I wore my best dress, and strange enough, there was no one else in the dining hall. The lights were dimmed, and the waiter took me to a table in the middle of the room.”

Alfred took a seat on the couch, and smiled. “There was a candle, and two wine glasses and a bottle of my favorite red wine. I turned to the waiter and explained that it was just me, but he pushed my chair in and walked away.”

Bruce hid his face in your hair, “The stage lights turned on, and there was a group of men on the stage, and the opening notes to Please Come Home for Christmas started to play. 🎵

When my eyes had adjusted to these lights, lo and behold, the Eagles, were standing in front of me.”

“Bells will be ringin' the sad, sad news

Oh, what a Christmas to have the blues

My baby's gone, I have no friends

To wish me greetings once again”

You sat there in shock, and then through the corner of your eye, Bruce was standing at the edge of the stage. Slowly, you stood up and Bruce walked over to you; he was wearing his best suit and tie. All you could do was stare at him and then back at the stage, “You did this?” You asked and Bruce nodded.

“May I have this dance?” He asked and you gave him your hand.

Bruce pulled you into his body, his right hand held your waist, and his left hand met your right hand. You stared up into his eyes, and he leaned his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, as he spun you out away from him, and then he pulled you back into his strong embrace. “I didn’t keep my promise. I feel terrible about it. But I feel even worse that it took you leaving for me to notice the broken promise.”

“Sure as the stars shine above

But this is Christmas, yes, Christmas, my dear

It’s the time of year to be with the one you love.”

“Will you forgive me, Y/N? There is no one else I would rather solve problems with, or experience life with. I only want you. Please come home for Christmas.” He whispered in your ear, and you pulled away from him.

All you could say was “Yes.” And Bruce’s hand held the back of your head as he pressed a kiss to your lips.

“There'll be no more sorrow, no grief and pain

And I'll be happy, happy once again.”

When he pulled away you pulled him back and pressed a long, needed kiss to his lips. “Thank you for coming after me.” You said against his lips, and then you smiled. “I guess there was a less dramatic way to discuss this. I’m sorry.”

Bruce shook his head, “Thank you for leaving. Otherwise, I don’t think I would have realized the error I made. I tend to hear, but not actually listen.” He said as he kissed your forehead.

“Ooh, there'll be no more sorrow, no grief and pain

And I'll be happy, Christmas once again.”

The final piano notes of the song played and you turned to Bruce, “How did you manage to get the Eagles to sing in a hotel restaurant? And why is there no one else here?” You asked and Bruce smiled as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I bought the restaurant. And as for them, I bought out an entire concert to get them here, plus some since it was Christmas.”

Bruce pulled you into a hug, and he waved for the band to play the song again.

_________

“He paid a for an entire concert? To play one song?” Dick asked and you smiled.

“No, they played their whole set list, and we had dinner with them. But it was after all of that, that meant the most to me.” You said as you looked at Bruce.”

“Ew, mom, we don’t want to hear this.” Jason said as he buried his face into a throw pillow. “Not that, Jason.” You stood up and picked up a small Big Ben ornament. Bruce stood up and followed you to tree, and his hand wrapped around yours, and he helped place the ornament on a branch in the middle.

“The clock is set to the time that your father and I kissed at our wedding, after saying I do.” You said and Bruce pulled you into a hug.

The boys surrounded the two of you, and even Alfred joined in on the hug. “So that’s why we take off from December 15th until the 29th.” Tim said and you smiled.

“Unless Gotham is in dire need of its Dark Knight. I too, have learned sometimes the city needs him more than I need him. But he somehow manages to be there for both.” You say, and Bruce pulls you into another breath taking kiss.

“Shall we go ahead and take our annual Christmas photo?” Alfred asks and you smile.

All of you gathered around the tree, and Alfred set the camera’s timer. He raced over and straightened out his suit and tie, “Everyone say SHIMMY!” Alfred shouted and everyone burst into laughter.

“SHIMMY!” Everyone exclaimed and the camera flash went off. In the photo, Damian’s mouth was agape, and he looked over at Jason who was laughing.

Then the fire alarm started blaring in the kitchen, “THE COOKIES!” You and Bruce screamed, and the two of you raced into the kitchen.

Bruce opened the smoke filled oven, and pulled out the cookie sheet with a dish towel. He dropped the pan into the sink, and after the smoke had cleared, everyone had a clear view of the cookies.

They were completely burned. All everyone could do was laugh, “They’re cookies are as hard as hockey pucks!” Jason said as he banged them in the counter. “I wonder if a bullet would go through them?” He asked out loud.

Bruce pulled you into his body and pressed a kiss to your lips. After what Jason had said processed, you looked at him, “Don’t you even think about it! No guns in the kitchen, and not shooting at the cookies!”

That night after cleaning the kitchen, the seven of you sat in the living room enjoying sugar cookies in front of the fireplace, and enjoying the view of the tree, all while playing some Wayne Family Christmas Games.

The End!

Authors Note:

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this! Comments, likes, and reblog are always appreciated. Please let me know what you thought!

xoxo

[stove-top96]

Water Colour Eyes

Chapter 2

Y Batfam x GN Reader

Featuring: Platonic Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne (mostly Jason)

1.8K words

I’m not the biggest fan of this chapter, I tried something new when writing it and it didn’t mix well. Chapter 3 will be a lot better. Any and all advice will be appreciated. Comment if you wanna be added to the Taglist (I hope I did it right)

You’re the first one to get cut, although you were scheduled to work the close Albertine wanted you out of there as soon as possible. Honestly you were thankful, if you stayed there any longer you’d probably break. Roa called in sick, so you were stuck fending for yourself once the Waynes left. You messed up 3 ticket orders, because of Albertine’s new no notepad policy, so you were ridiculed by the kitchen staff for being incompetent. The last 4 hours were brutal, you can’t stop thinking about how hard it is to work there. It’s so isolating, and the staff make you feel so stupid. You just can’t take it anymore, you’ve never been made to feel so incompetent and insecure anywhere else. You feel so pathetic for putting up with it, but where else can you make so much money? Being a freshman in college means your options are pretty limited.

Grabbing your coat and bag you prepare to head down to the subway station. It’s already dark out, but going home at 9:45 is a lot safer than the original 12:00. Getting home early means you’ll have more time to yourself, and you won't be bothered since your mom and her boyfriend haven’t been home for a few days. It’s the little joys in life that matter.

As you make it to the station it’s a little more crowded than usual. Something you're thankful for, there’s safety in numbers even if they’re strangers. Riding the train to your stop, even though you’re able to have the evening to yourself, thoughts of doubt still race in the back of your mind. The walk home from the station is always rough, but you get through it everytime. your lips tremble, hands shake, and eyes water, you just can’t seem to forget all the mistakes you’ve made. Even so you push it all down. You're only 15 minutes away from your apartment, so you can make it home and cry a little while you're taking a shower or something. Just make it home. Just make it home. It’s the only thing repeating in your mind, the only thing keeping you moving.

Wandering like a ghost through the streets, your thoughts distract you from everything. Just make It home. You had only two more blocks to go. Wiping the few tears that spilled down. Just make it home. You're gonna have the place to yourself, you can have a nice long shower without your step dad getting mad at you. Just make it home. You don't work another shift until Tuesday, so you won’t see them for a while. As long as you just make it home.

“Give me your money”

“What” you’re snapped back to reality as you're confronted by some junkie in the alley. “I said gimme your money” he took a few steps closer, as you inched backwards “I- I don't have any on me right now” you stuttered, hoping your answer might satisfy him. Judging from his face it didn’t. God what were you supposed to do. This man looks like he’s got at least 100 pounds on you, not that you could fight him even if you wanted. “I’m sure ya do, if ya just hand it over no one gets hurt”. He’s cornered you, you have nowhere to run now. Your heart begins to race, hands start to tremble and the tears that threatened to spill earlier are pouring down your face. This is it. you have no money on you, this man will likely beat you to death. you do the only thing you can do “HELP! Someone please!”. This pisses him off as he grabs your wrist, your heart stops as you see him raise a hand to punch. This is it.

+++++

Jason was on his usual route, he had about 2 hours to kill before he got to see you. Being the one to make sure you were safe was something he took pride in, and walking home with you was different. You were always at your most vulnerable after work, protecting you while you’re in such a fragile state brings a sense of warmth about him. You make him feel like a good person, a good brother.

The restaurant is only about 3 blocks down from his patrol route for the night, maybe he can just take a quick look, to make sure you're okay. Bruce did say something about you having a rough night or something like that, he wasn’t paying too much attention all he could think of was how he could make your manager pay without pissing Bruce off. As he nears the restaurant he’s thankful he showed up, since you're already on your way to the subway. Following you the rest of the way, it’s clear you did have a rough day. Fists clenching and grinding his teeth, his blood boils. You don't deserve any of this, you deserve nothing less than the best. Bruce’s fucked up plan to drive into despair only to pick you up is one he never agreed with. They should just save you now so nothing bad can happen on the off chance they aren’t around. Then at least you’d be protected and with them. It doesn’t matter if you fight at first cause in time you’d understand. But the family just can’t see his side, and you’re suffering because of it.

He’s never felt so useless before. He sees your pain, and wants nothing more than to lift you into his arms and set you free from all your troubles. But he can't yet, right now he’s Redhood, but soon he’ll be your brother. Only then will he be able to ease your pain, but he knows even after your wounds heal there’ll still be scares, he has them too. One day you’ll both understand each other, you share experiences that no one else in the family has. He’ll help in the way no one helped him.

As he nears the alley, he sees the man grab your wrist harshly and swing his other arm. Before the thug’s fist comes in contact with your face, he shoots, aiming for the fist about to punch you. The rubber bullet cracks and breaks the thugs hand, letting go of your wrist to writhe in pain. Within seconds redhood arrives at the scene accessing the damage. “Are you alright?” he asks, voice deep and robotic from his mask. Mind racing a thousand thoughts a second you barely comprehend what’s happening. “What..” you mutter quietly, voice cracking from the tears you shed minutes ago. “Are you alright?” He asks again, hand resting on your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you. “ I- I don’t know” you mumble to yourself as you begin to zone out into your own world. The stress of school, your mom, her boyfriend and especially work, maybe you aren’t okay? Maybe you just can’t push through anymore? You don't know anything anymore. Quickly snapping back into reality “No I'm fine, don't worry, just a little shaken, I’m normally more careful than that.” You stumble through your words, you hope it’s convincing enough, even if you look like a mess and are a little stressed out Red Hood probably saves hundreds of people in a night you can’t keep him waiting any longer. “Thank you,..” you want to say more but he probably has to head back. Gathering your things from your bag you begin the rest of the 15 minute walk back to your apartment, staying more vigilant than ever but still unaware of the masked hero following you home.

Jason’s mind never felt so separated from his body, all he wanted to do was beat the shit out of that scumbag who dared lay a hand on you. But his feelings were irrelevant, you were the only one that mattered right now. The shadows of the alley couldn’t hide your expression. you looked white as a ghost, eyes puffy and wide, your hands trembled slightly as you picked up your things. It didn’t take a genius to see how distressed you are. He wanted to do anything, say something as you walked away, but he couldn't, his body wouldn’t do anything. So he watched his little sibling walk away when they needed him most, never feeling more pathetic. Only after a few minutes of standing did he gain control, running after you to ensure you got home safely, it’s the least he could do for being a horrible brother back there.

+++++

“I believe it would be best to fire that manager” Damian's voice echoes through the Batcave as he prepares for patrol with his father. “Like I’ve told Dick, it's under consideration” Bruce’s response is curt, he understands the boy’s frustrations but in order to reach their end goal they must be patient with everything. Tim rolls his eyes, he understands why but with their current pace they’ll never grow past the current server customer relationship they have. “Have you at least considered our side of things, we can’t let people treat them like that. They’re running herself thin, they could barely smile at us tonight” Tim’s frustration is evident in his voice, why is Bruce not doing anything he understands the plan, even agrees with it but Albertine crosses a line. Bruce goes to speak but is interrupted by a call from Jason. “Yes” he goes silent as the voice on the other line speaks, his face giving nothing away. “Do you have a name?” He asks, the boys are curious. Is tonight gonna turn into something more than a simple patrol? Did a villain plan something big? “Thank you” as he hangs up, his face still doesn’t give any indication as to what was being discussed. “They were attacked” his voice monotone, but the slight furrow in his brow was a clear indicator for the rage brewing inside him. The two boys freeze, as their blood runs cold, and they seethe with rage. Someone tried to hurt their sister?

“What!? Was Todd not supposed to be watching them?” Damion did nothing to hide his rage, mind racing with different possibilities on how he could hurt his brother for his negligence. “He did, and they weren’t hurt. They got sent home early, be thankful Jason stopped by as they were leaving.” Bruce’s voice was firm, but he was lost in his own thoughts and schemes on how they can better insure your protection without interfering with their progress. “Does he have a name?” Tim asked, visibly more relaxed after knowing you were uninjured. “Greg Capullo” Bruce’s answer was short but the tone gave direct instructions. Go after him, he will turn a blind eye to whatever it is they do. Damian, wasting no time leaves the cave preparing to do his worst, while Tim heads towards the bat-computer preparing to make this man’s life miserable. Tonight was a night the criminals of Gotham would remember, as the Bats were far more brutal in every aspect than they have ever been before.

Taglist: @lilyalone @pix-stuff @caged-birdies-blog @toast-on-dandelioms

[isavulpix]

Jason Todd Headcanons 2

Teacher!Reader x Jason Todd

1

Eyes Dont Lie Masterlist (Coming soon)

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.

I want to say thank you to all of y’all for liking and rebloging 🥺 y’all are so lovely. I hope y’all like this night thoughts. Edit: I decided to make it a series so check it up if you like to, thanks for the likes and reblogs <3

isavulpix masterlist

• After y’all meet, Jason can’t have a normal day. You and your damn smile pop on his mind at random times. Which makes him have a small curve on the edge of his mouth, confusing Bruce. Why is he smiling as he talks about the obligatory attendance to the gala this week?

• He hates this because come on…he can’t be thinking about the pretty teacher…is too cliche. This isn’t a love story from Christina Luren. Plus he has better things to do than thinking about the pretty teacher who smile made his heart tremble…

• So he starts to do more things to distract himself of thinking about you, and maybe it did work a little too well. Now he is in Roy and Lian apartment along Dick and a room full of little gremlins.

• Roy asked him to help him in Lian birthday party. it was Bluey theme and Roy bought her the cutest Bingo outfit 🥺

• Jason didn’t have a problem helping him, plus he can’t wait for the gift opening time to come. He bought Lian the loudest and flashiest toy he could find just to annoy Roy.

• What he didn’t expect was that Lian beside inviting her classmates, she also invited you. Her teacher…the one that he totally isn’t thinking about night and day…He is also not thinking about how gorgeous you look at the moment. The outfit, the hair, accessories, all of it helps amplify your beauty, but Jason favorite aspect is the smile you wear.

• He isn’t nervous…he just has eaten like five cupcakes, three cookies and four juices that were for the kids while trying to avoid looking at you. He is lucky Dick and Roy are too occupied with Lian and the kids to read his behavior.

• But you do, like who wouldn’t notice the hot tall man? He was just your type, but you do raise an eyebrow confused, why is he sweating as he eats? Is not even hot in here. Plus isn’t supposed to be all over his daughter?

• Yeah, you read right, daughter. You think Roy and Jason are a couple. Why? Easy, Lian always talks about her dad, uncle Dick and “Jason”. All her drawings have one or two of them, tells stories about them.

• Dick somehow bribed Lian to call uncle Jay “Jason”, he hates it and is trying to bribe her into calling him uncle Jay again. Lian loves it since she is getting more sugar than what Roy let’s her.

• You don’t know anything about her mother and since she doesn’t look like Roy you think they adopted her or something. You aren’t to stuck your nose into what doesn’t concern you, plus you did heard some moms gossip that…but it doesn’t stop you from subtly ogling Jason. Why are the hot men always unavailable?

• So imagine Jason confused face when you offer to take a photo of the dads with Lian. Like dads? Like…multiple? And why do you say it while looking at him and Roy? Oh…OH NO WAIT….

• The hamster in Jason brain has stop working and Roy realize it, so why not have fun? Roy smile and pulls Jason into the family photo. A little payback for picking up Lian late and bribing her, y’all really think Lian who is a daddy’s girl, plus a 5 year old is capable of holding a secret?

• Jason hates the photo, he has his eyes slight wide in it, while Lian smiles and Roy has an arm around his shoulder. Roy also got that photo framed in Jason apartment knowing Jason can’t take it down without dealing with a pouting Lian. Because how he dares to take down a photo of them?

• Anyways, when he comes back to reality the small celebration is done and kids are being picked up by there parents and you where long gone. Roy and Dick laugh about what just happened and tease him. He mentally curses when he realizes he didn’t had the time to tell you he isn’t with Roy…

[jjenthusee]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Angst, hurt no comfort

The sun was blinding. White light that burned against the skin of your eyelids trying to shield your eyes.

A couple blinks helped to adjust your senses, but you could only squint long enough to try to look at your surroundings.

Trees. Seats. The inside of a truck?

You sat up straighter. Your fast movements disorienting your mind, but you swiveled your head nonetheless. Pushing away the sudden motion sickness.

It was the interior of a truck. Your family pickup.

You hadn’t seen it in ages after your family sold it off when you were thirteen.

A sickening nostalgic feeling constricting your throat. You turned your head to look out the window of the backseat.

You were moving.

Endless trees were passing you, almost in a blur. It was home like you were back driving through the backroads, but this looked like a freeway.

You were sitting with the windows rolled up, but you could practically smell the outside. The smell of the almost red dirt and the sound of the trees wiggling against the wind.

It reminded you of when your life was only about getting dirt in your shoes and your mom would nag about the stains on them.

“—ug.”

Huh? Dad?

“Bug, can you feel the air?”

Your dad’s voice reverberated through you. Your throat burning as you listened to the familiar nickname. The way his voice was delicate whenever he used it.

You looked forward expecting to see the front of the vehicle, but it was more fog. You wanted to rub your eyes hoping they would readjust and you could see your dad rather than only hear him.

But the blurriness stayed.

“It’s too hot, I can’t believe you forgot the cooler.”

Your mother’s voice echoed from the passenger seat, finally stabilizing when she finished talking.

The firmness still familiar and prominent.

“I told you that I’m sorry, I thought I put it in the backseat.”

You smiled hearing your parents bicker. It never failed that a roadtrip started with them arguing with each other. It was harmless banter, but it warmed your chest to hear both of their voices intertwined again.

Like a fog had cleared, the backs of your parents became more visible. Their silhouettes morphing into their all too familiar clothes and hair. Your dad driving and your mom sitting next to him with the usual grace she carried.

So many memories spent watching your parents from the backseat. You remembered you would move to the middle of the seats to perfectly balance seeing both of your parents, the sides of their faces barely visible, but it was also the perfect spot to get the best wave of cool air from the AC.

You saw the endless road through the front windshield. No traffic and the road closed in by the trees. It was just you and your parents like old times.

A sudden chill ran through you. Your arms shivered.

The truck was old, but it was sturdy. Your dad was very particular about the maintenance, so it kept kicking through the years. Maybe the AC was just strong?

“—u’re okay. You’ll be fine.”

Another voice chimed in, but when you turned to your parents they were still going back and forth, not paying attention to you.

A sharp sting pricked your right shoulder. The pain felt like a needle poling you, but it started to burn and the pain took over. It traveled down to your arm and fingers.

Your cries alerted your parents and your mom looked over her shoulder with concern.

“What’s wrong—“

You couldn’t form an answer as you clenched your shoulder with your left hand. Trying your best to somehow lessen the pain.

You looked down to assess the injury. You were in a GCPD vest and a red hoodie? What an interesting combo.

“Don’t you close your eyes, you fucking idiot.”

A harsh voice floated around you. It made your head hurt.

What in the world was going on?

Sweat formed on your forehead ready to drop down to your eyebrow.

Your entire right arm going numb. Well, now that was bad.

“I can’t feel my arm.”

You looked up to your mom. Slow panic blooming on her face.

“Shit, honey, you have to pull over.”

“There’s a semi behind us, we have to let it pass then—“

“Just put on the hazards! We have to pull over.”

They were arguing again, more about their concern for you, but you wanted to laugh at the situation. How long has it been since someone had reacted to you in this way?

Your mom unbuckled herself and maneuvered her body to wipe the sweat off your face. Her eyes looking at you. She was worried, but you saw as she fought against it.

She was never one to comfort with words, but you felt better as she dabbed at your sweat.

“Don’t touch her, dickhead!”

You winced. The distant voice had such a foul mouth.

You looked up again, there was no reaction from your mom. She was a stickler for bad language, so if she wasn’t ready to threaten you with cleaning your mouth with soap, she didn’t hear the voice yelling.

“Jaybird, I’m trying to help.”

Another faceless voice. It didn’t contain the same venom as the first one.

“Then help her. She’s losing too much blood and this fucking rain is not helping.”

The irritation was growing from the distant echo. The anger felt familiar.

Instantly, you shivered again.

Your dad successfully pulled off the road bringing the truck to a complete stop. Now he was able to look back at you. His eyebrows pulled together in concern at your messy state.

You were in so much pain, but you were happy. Your parents were doting on you. You missed this feeling, being cared for.

“She still has a pulse, but it’s weak—so we have to act fast. B isn’t that far, we can make it. Just trust me, Jay.”

You shivered again.

“She’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.”

The voice sounded like it was trying to convince himself more than you.

“You’ll be fine, sweetheart.”

The sudden change of anger to tender twisted something inside of you.

A strange wave of sadness itched at you. Why did his voice affect you?

“You said you wanted to cook me a ‘real’ dinner. You promised me.”

You felt like crying.

“You have to take back your DVD.”

People still use those?

“I can’t believe you still buy those ancient things and your stupid puzzle is still on my table. I haven’t moved it, but I bought you the glue you’ve been talking about.”

“Jaybird—“ The other voice tried to interrupt.

“You need to glue it.”

Flashes of memories started to enter your mind.

Red Hood pointing a gun in your face. Sitting in his safe house together. Removing his helmet. Watching Jason, your Jason, make a shitty dinner. Then your sadness when you realized he only ate to live. Teaching him about the mundane things about life.

You put a stamp onto his life and he had his stamp on yours.

Using his shampoo, wearing his clothes, blushing when he told you how good you looked in red.

“Fuck!”

The yell made you flinch. Your dad reaching past the seat to pet your head. A silent comfort.

You remembered.

Remembered that you followed Jason to stop the new drug that infested the schools across Gotham. You ended up going into the warehouse by yourself and as you were aiming your pistol, the drug lord aimed back at you. There were four shots. You each got a good hit on the other, but you managed to limp yourself out to the open smoggy air with the drug lord still slumped on the concrete. You did your job. Months of work was finally done. Except paper work, but that could be dealt with.

A couple steps into the rain and more gunshots had fired behind you. A flash of red moved at the corner of your eye, but your body fell forward.

You didn’t finish the job. The drug lord had been barely breathing and still shot you.

Jay had to clean up after you. Again.

You couldn’t do anything right. Now you were full of bullet holes, face plastered against the rough pavement.

It was too late.

Your body shifted, lifted like you weighed nothing. Your face feeling pouring rain when a red silhouette shielded your face.

“You idiot!” Jason’s voice booming above you.

Your body felt so heavy.

You slowly blinked up at his helmet. You always hated that it blocked you from seeing his actual face. You loved looking at him, but when he had it on, you wanted take it off and throw it.

You closed your eyes. When they reopened you could see your mom holding your face.

“I’m dying.”

“Oh, stop being dramatic. It’s probably cause you spent all weekend running around and strained yourself. I’ll give you some medicine and then you’ll rest more when we get home.”

“Mom, I don’t want to die.”

“Hush, you just need to rest. You look tired.”

You were tired. So tired.

Your father reached for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“It’s alright bug, you can rest.”

He was right. It was okay.

It won’t hurt to close your eyes for a little while. Maybe Jay will be there when you wake up. You’ll be in his arms and he’ll complain about you hogging the blanket all night, then kiss the sleepiness off of you.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be here when you wake up. We love you.”

The pain had stopped.

You closed your eyes.

Maybe you would rest for a bit.

Car drives always did make you sleepy.

…

Jason held your hand. Your body was soaked from the rain, water dripping off the sides of your face as you laid in front of him.

He was afraid to move you any further, so he sat on the ground. His helmet lulled next to his feet, thrown to the ground.

All the noise around him stopped. He couldn’t hear anything.

He had a lot of fuck-ups in his life, but this was by far the worse one.

Your pulse had stopped. You were cold.

Jason shakily reached for your face. You looked like you were going to wake at any moment to move the hair out of your face and you would ask him what all the fuss was about.

But you laid there. Hair still in your face, moved from the rain.

He stopped himself from touching you, throwing off his gloves with the same carelessness as his helmet.

Jason inched towards your face, using his bare fingers to move the wet hair. He watched the cold beauty you radiated.

But it wasn’t you.

It wasn’t the person who judged his bad eating habits, complained about his old leather jacket, yet still sewed close the new holes that formed.

“You idiot.”

His voice eerie and calm.

He reached for your body, gently scooping you up into his embrace. Holding you as close as he can get you.

He couldn’t feel any heartbeat. No familiar thump that calmed him, that lulled him to sleep on those nights it was too difficult to rest.

“You fucking idiot.”

Jason whispered into your hair. None of his earlier panic or malice heard in his voice.

Lines of tears fell from his eyes. A quiet sob as he touched his forehead to yours.

“Don’t leave me.”

His voice broke.

He held you tighter. Intertwining his hand and yours together like he could bring back life into you.

“Please.”

[fanfics-i-find-here]

Do I Know You? Part 8

Jason Todd x Reader

Synopsis: You get Chili dogs with Jason.

Notes: I have been watching far too many biker couples on TikTok and I think it shows. I am trying to slowly drag out some of Jason's slightly strange qualities (because he was dead after all). Also, he may or may not have gotten horny for a couple of seconds, I don’t know what happened. This chapter is super sweet with a little bit of continuation of our miscommunication from the last chapter. Enjoy!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Masterlist

You woke up early the next day (Unnecessarily early) and got ready. You tried to focus on how calm you felt after Red Hood helped you prep so you didn’t get overly anxious again. At noon, you began the trek to Jackie’s. It was earlier than needed, but you didn’t want to be late. As it turned out you weren’t the only one anxious about being late. Jason was already there, sitting at one of the patio tables, tapping on his phone. You really needed to get his phone number.

“Hey there Stranger,” you say just as you hear his phone quietly say Delicious! You stifle a laugh and keep your face composed. If he’s surprised to see you early, he doesn’t show it.

“Are you playing Candy Crush?” you ask as you settle next to him to glance at his phone. He meets your eye when he speaks.

“How’d you know?”

“Your sounds on?” you ask confused. Jason always seemed like a conscious person, always aware of what was going on around him. You didn’t take him for someone to leave the sound on his phone.

“Is that bad?” He asks and you find his tone genuine. It makes you want to furrow your brows in confusion. Sometimes you were seriously socially inept but even you know it was more courteous to mute your phone when you didn’t need the sound, like when playing a game.

“It's not fabulous,” you respond, “you can mute the sound in the game, so you don’t have to turn the sound off on your phone.” You help him finish his level and then help him find the settings in the app to turn off the sound. You get a strange sense that Jason isn’t used to a smartphone. You feel the same way you feel when you help your mom or dad with their phones; they have no clue how to handle it. With the sound of the game muted, he goes to slide his phone into his pocket. You figure now is a better time than any.

“Wait,” he pauses, “can we exchange numbers?” you ask. You see a look cross his face that you can’t decipher but he nods and hands you his phone unlocked. You shuffle a little closer so he can still see the screen as you add in your contact and send a quick text to yourself. As you hand him his phone back you realize how close you are, warm shoulder pressed to yours. You pull back and quickly stand.

“Hot dogs?” you ask. He rhythmically taps the corner of his phone against his leg as he watches you in the way he always does. That way that makes your heart beat faster and your breath catch in your throat. In that way, you still don’t know whether or not it makes you uncomfortable. He finally nods and stands. You take a deep breath now that he’s not watching you, but it doesn’t last long as his hand gently pushes you forward towards his bike.

There’s a leather jacket you’ve never seen on him before draped across the seat along with two helmets.

“Ever ridden on a motorcycle before?” He asks while he hands you a helmet. You take it and absentmindedly answer.

“Once, not with a helmet though.” You turn it in your hands. It's bulky and you understand how this could save a life.

“You should always wear a helmet, Sweetheart.” He reprimands and you playfully glare at him for the tone. He just rolls his eyes and nudges your helmet.

“Put it on.” He says as he slides his own on. You watch intently to make sure you’ll do it right, ignoring a certain rattling jar in the corner of your mind. You mimic him, sliding the helmet over your head and you’re shocked by how much sound becomes muffled. You knock the side of the helmet with your fist to listen to how loud it would be. You see Jason squint at you where his visor has been moved up and you think he's smiling.

“Is that it? You just put it on?” you ask patting where your cheeks would be. His helmet subtlely shakes in no motion.

“Not even close” he pulls the jacket off the bike, and you should have thought about how weird it was considering he was already wearing his usual black leather jacket. He shakes the jacket out and holds it up so you can slide into it. It’s a nice brown and too large for you. You think it might be familiar but you're not sure why. You pull at the collar and try to pull up the sleeves with no success despite the leather creased from being rolled up before. You huff at them and turn to Jason to ask for help. He stares at you differently than he usually does. You can’t see the rest of his face, but his eyes are focused on the jacket resting on you.

“Little big don’t you think?” his eyes snap up and meet yours and you wish you knew what he was thinking.

“It’s the only other one I have, sorry” He takes a step closer and his hand curls around the bottom of your helmet pulling you forward. You stumble a little and your hands land on his waist, fingers curling onto the fabric of his jacket as you steady yourself. Your eyes widen and you're about to ask him what the hell he’s doing when he pushes your chin up. Your neck bends awkwardly and you feel his hands moving under your chin, and then you feel the fabric.

Straps. There was a chin strap on the helmet. He was doing it for you. Your fingers tighten slightly in his jacket as you stare at the sky. Once he’s finished, he pulls your head back straight with the chin of the helmet. Your eyes meet his, still wide and you realize you had stopped breathing. You suck in a shaky breath as he watches you. His hands come to rub at your arms as he speaks.

“Sorry, Sorry, I’m almost done,” he says in a calming manner as he pulls your hands from his jacket and takes a step back only to lean forward and grab at the hem of the jacket you’re wearing. He fits the teeth to the zipper and pulls it up. You stand there, unsure, fists clenching at your side. You wish you would say something, but you don’t know what. Even if you did have something to say, you don’t think you could over the lump of emotion in your throat. He stands straight and gives you a once-over with a nod. Your hands meet in front of you as you fiddle with the sleeves of the jacket. After a second, he steps close again tapping at the side of your helmet.

“Everything comfortable? Nothing too tight?” He asks. You stare at the collar of his shirt because you’re not sure what you’ll do if you meet his eye again. You nod your head as he asks and then shake it. He pauses a moment, and you can feel him watching you the way he usually does, and for once it makes you comfortable instead of unsure. He proceeds to give you a rundown of bike safety about leaning and bracing. He gets on the bike to demonstrate, and you try to stay focused on what he’s talking about, mind straying only briefly to less appropriate thoughts.

“I think that’s it. You ready?” he asks as he starts the bike.

You finally find your voice as you nod, “Yeah I’m ready.” You don’t think he can hear you over the bike, but he pats the seat behind him and then sticks out his hand. You take it and follow his instructions from earlier. Placing one foot on the peg and swinging your leg over the seat, your hand in his steadying yourself. You finally let go sitting upright on the bike. He pats your thigh and then does a thumbs-up. You mimic him in his line of sight, and he grabs your hand and pulls it around his waist. His other hand reaches behind him to hold your other hand to meet the first hand. He pats your hands there and you lightly rub at his chest. He revs the bike, and your hold tightens despite the bike not moving. You feel his body shake slightly and you think he’s laughing at you before he finally pulls out onto the street.

Jason was, for lack of better terms, losing it. He had told himself last night that this wasn’t a date, but damn did feel like one. He couldn’t help himself. Blame it on being dead during his late teen years, but sometimes he felt extremely out on social cues. He was going to let you do up the jacket and helmet. Honestly, he was! But then you stood there in his Red Hood jacket (it was the only other one he had) and it was like he was possessed. To be fair last night’s Robe debacle didn’t help, what with your pretty legs on display. Now with you in his jacket, he could make a semi-complete picture in his mind and it was not family friendly. To help tamp down any urges that would be unsavory in public, he chose to be close to you instead, which did not help as much as he thought it would. Your wide eyes and grasp on his jacket almost made him pull the helmet right off you and kiss you senseless. He realigned his focus on buckling the helmet. But then he met your eyes, still wide and you breathed like that. All those thoughts dropped from his mind. He worried he was making you uncomfortable, so he took a step back to give you some space but still helped you with the jacket. He weighed your anxious stepping and fidgeting as he watched you for a moment and he realized you hadn’t said anything the entire time.

Jason had been watching you waitress at Jackie's for a while (he hated to admit it) and you were never afraid of putting some douchebag hitting on you in their place. He expected you to do the same thing to him but now you just looked nervous, and he remembered the mess you had been in the night before.  You thought this might be a date and he doesn’t think he's helping with that. He needed to tone it down. But then you were on the bike, and you had to hold onto him, so he showed you and you rubbed his chest. He could melt into a puddle.

Focus, he told himself, you have to drive. He took his time, not wanting to scare you. Easy on the turns and no racing. You handled it like a champ, relaxing into the ride a few minutes in. You must not get out of your little area of Gotham much because you would tap his helmet and point to random things that found your interest always with one hand on his stomach. Once Robinson Park came into view, he found some parking and you didn’t let go of him until the bike was turned off, hesitating even then. He offered his hand again and helped you off the bike. He followed suit, pulling his helmet off and shaking his hair out. Once he was done, you took a step forward and tipped your head back, practically bouncing on your toes. He watches you confused. After a moment, you stop bouncing and drop your head back down. You push the visor up on the helmet so he can see your eyes.

“Will you undo the strappy things?” You asked happily. Your eyes practically glittered with excitement, at least the parts he could see from your squinting grin. He hadn’t made you uncomfortable then. He nods slowly and you tip your head back again. He pulls the zipper of the jacket down slightly, entirely selfish because it gave him a nice view of your exposed neck (he feels a moment of disguise for himself for the thoughts he has just about your neck but that slips away as you hop incessantly). He quickly undoes the strap and steps out of your bubble so you can pull the helmet. Your hair is a mess of static flyaway, but you have the giddiest grin he’s ever seen on your face, with a sense of childish glee. You balance the helmet on the seat of the bike and attempt to pat down your hair as you speak.

“That was nice.” You say still grinning.

“Based on your grin, I’d say it was a little more than just nice, Sweetheart,” you laugh at his comment, and he joins.

“Okay, it was…Exhilarating. I haven’t had that much fun in a long time.” you shyly admit. Your anxious habits slowly leak back into your body, grin dampening. Your excited hop melds into a more subtle stepping and your hands come up to fidget with the zipper of the jacket. You unzip it the rest of the way, showcasing your meticulously chosen shirt. You were right. He would see it and it was nice. He was right too. The leather did pull the outfit together.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” He pauses for a second, unsure if he should comment on your outfit (This was NOT a date.) but he can’t help it. He was proud of the joint effort it took to dress you, as weird as that sounded.

“I like your shirt, it’s a good color on you.” Your normal soft smile shows itself and you press your cheek to your shoulder for a second.

“You think so? I wasn’t so sure about it” Thank god for vigilante skills because the look of confusion that almost crossed his face would have led to an interesting conversation. You seemed like you had liked it last night. After the many shirts you had run through, he had pulled that one last (selfishly because it was the closest thing to red you owned) and you had quickly chosen it. He decided not to think too hard about it, considering the whole keeping shirts you don’t like conversation and because you were staring at him. You were staring at him the way he stares at you, and he quickly decides he doesn’t like it.

“I know so, now Chili dog?” you nod in response as you slip your hands into the pockets of his your jacket.

“Lead the way, oh connoisseur of hot dog stands.” He snorts and dramatically offers his elbow to you.

“Right this way, M’lady,” he says with a grin.

You pull your hand from the pocket and curl your fingers into the crook of his elbow. You’re quiet as he pulls you down the street. This walk feels different than your usual walks. The weather was decent enough when you left your apartment, it's why you had opted not to bring your own sweater. Now though, you were happy Jason had brought a jacket and that he was letting you stand so close to him. His warmth seeps into you, fending off the drop in temperature. You worry you're extremely unprepared as you see clouds gather in the sky. Your worrying is cut short as Jason pulls you into a short line at an unassuming hot dog cart.

“What's so special about this guy's hot dogs?” You ask passively as you stand on your tiptoes to look around someone's shoulder, you lean away from Jason but keep your hold on his elbow to balance yourself. You feel him shift slightly and when you turn back to him, he’s already watching you.

“Antonio is the definition of Gotham’s survivors. He used to be a goon for Two Face, just trying to take care of his family.” You cut in before he can continue.

“Goon?” you question, the term feeling strange on your tongue.

“Right, you’re not from Gotham. It's like a lackey or employee, I guess? The point is he was working for Two-Face. Anyways when you’re working for two bosses, and you don’t know which one you’re talking to… let's just say you're more likely to end up with a bullet in your head.” Your lip quirks in disgust at his phrasing but you know it’s the truth.

“He decided it wasn’t worth it, so he chose to do something better.”

“A hot dog stand? While I appreciate the life story, it doesn’t explain why he’s the best hot dog stand.” You don’t get an answer as you finally make it to the front of the line.

“Eh, my boy Jason! How you been, kid?” Antonio says. If you thought Darla’s Gotham accent was thick, you were wrong. It took you a few seconds to decipher what he was saying with how fast he spoke. Jason, however, had no issues.

“Doin’ just fine, Antonio. How about you? How’re the kids?” he asked. You were a little startled. You knew Jason grew up in Gotham, he told you that himself, but it wasn’t obvious until this moment. The man suddenly had an accent you had never heard from him. You stare at him as he talks to Antonio and orders. He pays and takes the Chili dogs. You're pretty sure that they had briefly talked about you, but you were still in shock. Jason nudges you to walk and you nearly trip over yourself.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he says amused, and leads you to a bench. You sit down next to him and continue to stare at him incredulously. He offers you the hot dog, but you just continue to stare.

“Something on my face?”

“Who are you?” you blurt out.”

“What?” A look of startled panic crosses his features.

“What do you mean ‘what’? I have never heard you speak like that! That was a whole other person.”

“What are you talking about?” He seems genuinely confused but you have sudden distrust for him.

“What am I talking about? I’m talking about your sudden accent that is conveniently gone now, by the way.” You say finally taking the hot dog from him. He’s quiet for a moment, brows drawn in a thoughtful expression.

“I’m going to be completely honest with you,” he speaks slowly, “I had no idea I did that. Now that you mention it, I guess I do change the way I speak around certain people. Sorry.”

“Don’t take it personally,” you shrug, “It just really threw me off. I didn’t expect it. So, this is a Gotham Chili dog?” you look down at it in your hand. It wasn't quite what you had pictured. It had chili on it but also had peppers and onions on top of that and what honestly looked like a French fry.

“This feels excessive.” You add.

“The best of Jersey and Chili dogs all on one. Try it.” He looks at you expectantly.

“Don’t watch me, that’s weird.” You chide nervously.

“Fine,” he grins, “together?” He picks up his chili dog. You nod and join him.

You wish you could that he was right. That it was about the cart and the person making the chili dog. That this was the best thing you had ever tasted. But that would make you a liar. Your face twinges as you bite into the hot dog and try to chew slowly before swallowing it harshly. You rub your lips together preparing to face Jason with sad news. Maybe you could fake it. Your eyes meet his as you swallow nothing trying to force down a gag. You give him a closed-mouth smile. You’re a worse actress than you thought because he barks out a laugh. It takes him a minute before settling down.

“That bad, huh?”

“I’m so sorry,” the guilt genuine on your features, “I just can’t do it.”

He offers you a spoon from nowhere, “then scrap it off, unless you want me to get you a new hot dog.” You stare at the spoon. You had the feeling he knew you weren’t going to like it, considering he was prepared. You take the spoon gingerly, an unnamed emotion growing in your chest.

“I’ll just scrap it off.” You start scraping the chili into the paper dish it had come in.

“Are you sure?” he ducks down slightly trying to catch your eye, “I can buy a regular one.”

You glance at him, “It’s okay, you already paid for this one and you were ready with a spoon. I have all I need.” You lightly bump your shoulder against his and it seems to reassure him enough as he goes back to eating. The hot dog cleared off, and you ate it leisurely watching the clouds from earlier turn darker. You’re pretty sure it’s going to rain (shocking for Gotham). Food finished Jason collects your trash and throws it away. He follows your line of sight.

“We should head back. Ready for the ride?” He asks. You perk back up at the thought of his bike. A proud smile graces his features for a moment, and he offers his hand. You take it and he pulls you up just as you feel a drop of cold water on your face, a light sprinkle of rain begins. Jason doesn’t hesitate to tug you by your hand into a jog to his bike. In a matter of minutes, the sprinkle has turned into a straight downpour. Bike in sight, Jason drags you under a nearby weeping willow. The rain is lighter and softer but still coming through. You pause there to catch your breath. At that moment, you feel Jason's hand in yours, warm and sturdy. You don’t want to let go. Not that he was trying to pull away anyway.

“You okay?” he asks as his other hand attempts to brush off the water on your borrowed jacket. With no success, his hand moves to push your wet hair out of your face.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say still breathless, fighting the urge to lean into his touch. His eyes scan over your face and the tips of his fingers brush against your cheek before he pulls his hand away.

“I’m going to go grab the helmets. I’ll be right back.” He shouts over the rain.

“Is it safe to be on a bike in this?” you ask before he leaves. He smirks.

“Don’t worry, Baby. I’m a safe driver.” The warmth of him and his hand leaves you in a hurried run. Your heart does a hop, skip, and a jump before your nerves come back to you.

He called you Baby. Maybe this is a date.

You don’t have long to worry because he’s back with the helmets. You're quick to put the helmet on your head, hiding your face out of fear of what he might see. You zip up your jacket, tugging at the collar trying to shield your neck from the cold. You feel around blindly for the straps of the helmet and attempt to put them together. You can feel Jason watching you as you try to do up yourself. You give up quickly and he doesn’t hesitate to step forward. You wonder if he was thinking about how he called you baby like you were.

Jason was not only thinking about how he called you baby, he was panicking. He was supposed to be toning it down not dialing it! It just slipped and then he ran away before he could see your reaction, which was not a good plan. Jason disliked this very much. He wasn’t used to being unsure about something. He was a planner. He always knew where he stood and what he was doing but with you, it was like he short-circuited. It didn’t help that his experience with romance was not a lot. And the people he witnessed in relationships were also not great. Superheroes, criminals, serial daters. Not exactly a guiding light in this department. Antonio didn’t help earlier either, calling you Jason’s girl. But you had been so shocked by his accent that you didn’t hear that or how flustered he became over it. He just needed to get you home, safe and sound. Then he could worry about it later. He did up your helmet and then shouted through his helmet and the rain.

“Let’s make a break for it!” He wasn’t sure you could hear him, but you nodded so he assumed you had. He took off for the bike sliding on and turning it on. You didn’t wait for him to offer his hand this time, using his shoulder to balance as you slid onto the seat behind him. You wrap your arms around him, patting his chest and giving him a thumbs up. He drives out onto the street. He tries to take his time with the slick roads but doesn’t want you to get a cold. He contemplates just pulling up to your apartment but then you might act like you lived further down the street again and he didn’t want you in the rain. So, he pulled up to Jackie’s where you had met. You hop off the bike and he is quick to follow, dragging you into the coffee shop. He helps with the helmet again and you both sit at his usual booth. You have that glimmer in your eyes again, and he notes that you like riding on his bike.

 Just as he’s about to offer to buy you something warm his phone rings. If this is Dick calling again… He doesn’t finish the thought as he fishes out his phone. You eye him curiously. Barbara. That can’t be good. She only ever calls Jason during daylight if it’s an emergency. He excuses himself from the table and answers the phone.

“Where are you?” She asks before he can say hello.

“Couple blocks from the Narrows. What’s up?” he responds.

“How fast could you make it to the Bowery?”

“20 minutes if I’m careful, 10 if I’m not”

“Don’t be careful”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oracle out” she hangs up and Jason turns to find you at the table looking out the window, admiring the rain. Despite your current drenched cat look, you look gorgeous with the warm glow of the coffee shop and still wrapped in his jacket. He really didn’t want to leave you but, evidently, it was an emergency. He returns to the table but doesn’t sit, rapping his knuckles against the table gently to get your attention. You turn to look at him and the urge to stay grows ten times.

“Work called, I gotta go. It’s an emergency” A slight pout overtakes your lips, but you nod.

“You need your jacket back.” You start to unzip the material, but he stops you.

“Just hold onto it til I see next, okay?” you concede with another nod. He taps the table one more time. He really had to go.

“Text me when you get home, please?” He had wanted to walk you home like a gentleman, but this would have to do.

“I will, I will. Go, you have an emergency.” You shoo him with a smile., “And thank you for a lovely day, Jason. I enjoyed myself.”

“I did too, Sweetheart,” he takes a step from the table, “I’ll be waiting to hear from you.” And then he's out the door with both the helmets and on his way to deal with whatever idiot dragged him away from you.

Additional note: They getting closer and moves are almost happening but they are both disasters. Thank you for reading! If you are reading this before Sunday (January 12 CST) please go do the poll for the next chapter. It currently looks like a darker chapter may be on our horizon.

Tag List: @little-miss-naill, @nikilolo787, @joonunivrs, @uzxotic, @qardasngan, @stormz369,  @g4bbi3xx, @iwatobiswimbros, @the-lonely-flute, @elz-xo, @gone-batty-fics, @princessesgarden, @notfckincreative, @love-theangel

[jasontoddsdarling]

snow angels

— casts: jason todd x reader, aurora todd (my kid oc)

— words: 1,515

— tags: fluff, winter, family fic, family fluff, kid fic

— summary: It's Aurora Todd first winter and you two decide she should experience the ultimate first time under the snow: building some snowmen and one or two castles. And apparently also snow angels along the way.

Heavy snowfall from yesterday—that kept everyone inside the house all day long—resulted in a thick layer of snow in the backyard. You, Jason, and your fourteen months old daughter, Aurora, included. You two even built her a blanket fortress from the pile of her soft baby blankets. She was very fond of it.

Today, Jason and you decide to bring her outside. 

It's her first winter, thus the first time she will experience the snowfall that blanketed the city like icing sugar dusted on a beignet.

Earlier, Jason had shoveled the snow that piled up in front of the front and back door. Thankfully, it wasn't blocking the doors that bad or else you'd feel bad about not helping him—even though he had insisted on doing it himself because she was cranky waking up and you'd have to feed her.

Now, though, your daughter is so awake and definitely not cranky anymore.

Jason has put his shovel back to the garage and changed his clothes to newer one—he had managed to sweat and drenched his sweater, and he's currently sporting a new sweater that matches the ones that you and your daughter wear.

“Papa.”

You put Aurora on her colorful foam puzzle mat. Jason, who is just getting out of your bedroom, smiling when he spots her.

“Who's going to play with snow today?”

Jason sits down on the edge of the mat and he beckons his daughter to his lap.

Aurora enthusiastically walks toward him—with her brand new baby boots that you just put on her, a big smile with her four small teeth showing.

“Nou.”

She perches her little legs on one of his thighs. You gasp and cannot help but grin. Did she just say a new word just now? Nou. Snow.

Jason beams. You can see his eyes shine with proudness.

“Yeah, snow. Snow! You, Mama, and Papa will go outside and we can build some snow castles and snowmen. Now, you need to wear these warm mittens first, okay?”

You observe the two loves of your life while packing a little thermos of jasmine tea to drink outside. These two always without fail put a smile on your face.

And oh, Jason is wearing gloves with the same color theme too because, of course, he would not want to be excluded in the matching outfits shenanigans of you and your daughter. We've to match as a cute little family, Jason had said so almost a year ago—after for the third time you and Aurora had matching outfits and he was being excluded; which in your defense, most husbands don't really care about matching outfits with their baby daughter, but you learnt it wasn't the case with Jason.

Jason tugs Aurora's mittens to make sure it's right before holding her in his arms and standing up, walking towards you who stands beside the dining table.

“Come on, Mama.” He squishes his cheek on Aurora's, whispering to pretend as if it's your daughter who’s saying that.

Aurora giggles. “Mama, mama.”

You bend down a little to kiss her rosy cheeks—and Jason steals a kiss from you when you stand straight after that—and the three of you are ready to mess with snow.

Jason has finished building one snow castle just now. It's a cool snow castle, in your opinion—considering he's only using some plastic snow toys for kids that you got for Aurora.

The kid in question sits on your lap, and is currently playing with the scallop shell plastic mold and making her nth crooked shell shaped snows with so much interest, completely oblivious to what her dad has been doing.

“Rora, look!” You pat her tiny leg gently. “Look. Papa has built you a little snow castle!”

You point your finger at the 1 meter tall snow figure. When Aurora looks up from her stuff, her eyes brighten and she moves her arms and legs excitedly, wiggling and trying to stand up from your lap.

You help her stand on her own little feet, her tiny boots scrunch the snow.

“Papa. Nou.”

Jason—who just put a twig on the center of the castle as a fake flag—grins. He waved his hands, beckoning her to walk towards him and the snow castle.

“Papa, papa.”

Aurora walks giddily.

You walk at a snail's pace to ensure that she steps safely, because you know sometimes babies and toddlers can be quite clumsy, and your daughter is no exception.

Aurora is two meters before landing herself in his dad's arm when, instead, she's landing backwards on a pile of fluffy snow with a very dull thud.

“Rora!”

Jason and you immediately shout at the same time and in less than two seconds both of you are in front of her.

Aurora is silent for a second, that you are almost panicking, but then she bursts into a fit of giggles. She moves her arms and legs in ups and downs motion, unknowingly making herself a snow angel.

“Mama, Papa.”

Aurora waves her mittens clad tiny hands. She wants you two to do what she's doing.

“Well, I guess we're making snow angels too.” 

“I know. I am just glad she isn't crying.”

You release your breath you know you were holding.

You lie down beside your daughter on one side and Jason on her other side and you two proceed to make your own snow angels.

After it is quite deep, Jason gets up from where he's lying down and takes some photos of you and Aurora with his phone and instant camera he hides inside his deep coat pockets.

“One, two, three. Smile!”

And so, the next ten minutes, Jason takes a lot of photos of you and Aurora in front of the snow castle.

“These are so cute.”

It's 8:30 pm. You and Jason just put Aurora to sleep in her room, you're lying on bed with your head propped on a pillow and Jason's shoulder.

You scroll on Jason's gallery, currently landing on the selfie of you, Jason, and little Aurora in front of the snow castle and the two snowmen on each side of the castle—snowmen that later the three of you built after snow angels' antics. The snowmen are guards, Jason had said.

Jason's shuffling and looking at the printed photos he (and you) took with the instant camera, while occasionally brushing your raven black hair that fans the pillow.

“Lovely snow angels.” Jason mutters.

You laugh. You immediately scroll towards one picture of the three of you as snow angels. “Yeah, that one was cute too. It's fortunate that you brought your tripod outside so we could take a photo with the three of us as snow angels.”

“I meant this.”

Jason shows you one printed photo from the instant camera.

“Oh.”

It is a photo of you and Aurora as snow angels, the sunlight reflecting on the snow and bouncing a very faint light on your smiling faces.

“That’s…” You almost can't say a thing. “So beautiful.”

“I know.”

“You're very talented, Jason.” You look up and give him a soft smile.

“It's not as much talent as what's the subject of the photography.”

“Hey.” You can't help but chide him.

“It's true.”

“It's not.”

“It is.” Jason says with a finality. He puts all—the photos except the one on your hand—on the nightstand beside him.

“Both of you are just the loveliest snow angels. My literal angels.”

“Oh, Jason…”

“My only angels. You and Aurora.”

That's it.

You drag his face towards you with one of your hands behind his neck. You kiss him deeply and slowly. You can feel his pulse beneath your fingers and run your hand up and down his nape.

Jason shudders and he kisses you deeper, if it's possible, and you let out a small moan.

Jason shudders and he kisses you deeper, if it's possible, and you let out a small moan.

At last, you separate your faces from each other to inhale some air.

“Jason, I love you so much.” You caress his jawline, looking at his perfect shade of viridian eyes.

“I love you more.” He looks at you as fondly. Sometimes it's hard to breathe everytime he does that.

“I love you more and more.”

“I love you–”

And that's where you two hear a cry from Aurora's room. She's awake.

“I think trying to tell us she's agreed that I love you more.” Jason snickers.

You huff, moving your body to get up from the bed. “She's trying to tell us she wants to co-sleep with us again tonight.”

“That's fair too. Still, I love you more and more and more, though.”

“It’s me, actually, but I will let you win.”

You almost land your feet on the floor when Jason immediately stands up.

“Let me get her or I love you more and more and more.”

You can't believe your husband's antics but you smile ear to ear nonetheless.

“Fair. Go get her, Papabear.”

“On it, Mamabear.”

Jason shouts I love you more and more and more when he's in another room with Aurora's “Papa” accompanying it.

mariea's note: guess who decide to go all in and repost the fic from my ao3 here? anyway here's the og appearance of my jason todd's kid oc aurora "rora" todd 🤍

[deliciousbasementtrash]

Playing Nurse for the Batfam

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. On your way home from work, you encounter an injured superhero. You have seen his secret identity. Now what will he do about it?

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x reader, (maybe a why choose with Dick Grayson as well?? Idk tell me what you guys want)

Warning: Adult language, verbal abuse, parental abuse, severe injuries

Word Count: 1.5k

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it 

Part One: Is that Trash or a Man?

There is calm chaos when working in the emergency room. You get used to the cacophony of beeps and alarms. Of moans, crying, screaming, and arguing. You get used to being on your feet all day and moving from task to task, from patient to patient. You get used to it because there is no other option. People need care and they need it now. You either step the fuck up or switch to a different unit. Or move to a calmer, cleaner, less crime-filled city. Calm wasn’t really my vibe. Maybe externally that’s what I portrayed, but internally my mind craves the chaos of the ER. It craves the chaos of Gotham. And the Gotham ER was an entirely different beast.

I finished nursing school about a year ago. A lot of my peers used it as an out. They went to more stable cities in New Jersey that had better funding and less chance of getting knifed in the staff parking lot. I was one of the only ones that stayed. I definitely was the only one that worked in the hospital. I couldn’t deny the demand for nurses was high, and the paychecks were even higher at Gotham General Hospital. And maybe some small pathetic part of my brain wanted to make the world a better place. I wanted Gotham to be a better place. Every day I worked. I convinced myself that how matter how shitty it got; I was making a difference. Even if it was only a handful of people in the grand scheme of things. 

I could convince myself that I mattered. That everyone mattered. That these people deserve more. They deserve better; they deserve a second, third, fourth, fifth chance. If I stopped trying to convince myself of that I know I would give up entirely. Seeing gunshot wounds, stabbings, overdoses, mutilations, burns, crushings, poisonings, beatings, day after day is a lot like erosion of the soul. Little by little it wears you down. You become jaded and jagged with time. Empathy becomes blame. Hope becomes desolate. Love becomes anger. The only thing you can do is gaslight yourself into thinking you’re making a big enough difference. That you’re helping enough people. After all, the brain can’t tell the difference between truth and irony. You tell yourself so many lies, you can start to believe them, right? 

Gotham City: 16 Years Ago 

“Dad, when is mom coming home?” My small voice asked. I was scared to make Dad yell at me again. I didn’t like it when I made him yell.

“She’s got stage four fucking cancer she is coming out of the hospital in a body bag, y/n.” 

I fought the tears that burned behind my eyes. Dad would get even angrier if he saw them. It was stupid of me to even ask. 

I felt him turn to me. His eyes bored into my skull. Quickly, I looked down at his feet. 

“Have you tried again?” He asked. His tone clipped. I knew he expected a timely answer.

Involuntarily, my fingers ruthlessly picked the skin around my nails. The sting was grounding in a way. 

“No, sir. Well yes, I have tried, but I… I failed,” the last word felt like a hot poker being placed through my throat. 

“Look at me.” Breathing became difficult, but I looked up at my father. He leaned his face close to mine. I could smell Jack wafting off him. “What good are you? What good is having healing powers if you can’t heal your sick mother?”

The simple hangnail became a chunk of missing skin. I lowered my head. Fighting back tears. 

“Sir,” my traitorous voice wobbled as I tried not to cry, “I keep trying but… I don’t think my power is that strong. I can close cuts, fix broken bones, but tumors are… hard.”

My father tilted his head back and laughed. Hard. He grabbed my wrist as quickly as a viper, “If I could put your mother’s cancer in you I would. You’re about as useful as a wet match in a dark cave.” 

I couldn’t help the tears that fell down my cheek. It felt like I was involuntarily waving a white flag.

Gotham City: Present Day

I had to be stealthy with my gift. I couldn’t heal every one of the patients to full health right away. That would lead to suspicion. But if I could help it I could stop the major damage. I would heal internal organs. Replenish blood. Reduce ten fractures to two or one. It all depended on timing and if people were watching me. 

I was walking home from the hospital. I only lived about three blocks away. I got off shift at around 20:49. I didn’t start my next stretch for another three days. And I was milking my walk home. Stopping to smell the roses or whatever. That is normally not a very smart thing to do in Gotham at night, especially as a woman. But part of me didn’t care. 

Earlier, I looked at my phone and frowned when I realized the date. 

Thursday, May 19th. 

My mom died 16 years ago today. Waves of emotion flooded my senses. Anger at myself for not remembering. Sadness that she had been gone more of my life than she had been in it. Restlessness for what my father might do or say. Some years he likes to reach out. Others he doesn’t. But most of all I was feeling reckless. Like I wanted someone to give me a reason. Obviously, I would only hurt someone to defend myself or others. But there was so much anger living in my body, part of me hoped some idiot would try something with me tonight. 

So, I walked home. Slowly. 

Normally, you keep your head down and you keep moving. You don’t look or gawk. You listen out of necessity. I was listening just because I could. It was the normal stuff. Men smoking cigarettes and catcalling. Women were offering their nightly services. Random people either praising or damning superheroes. Drug deals. Graffiti artists. Fights. And of course, people who simply were walking home from work. Gotham had range and was never boring that’s for sure. 

But something picked up on the very edge of my senses. Despite my better logic, I turned toward the very quiet sound. It could have just been rats, but it sounded so familiar. It sounded like a death rattle. The thing you hear just before shit hits the fan and the patient codes. 

Without thinking I ran down the alley toward the sound. At first, it was nothing. Just trash and rats. But then I saw it. He almost blended perfectly in with the shiny black garbage bags. His cape was the same color but reflected the light less. 

“Sir? Sir, are you alright?” I walked hesitantly forward, grabbing my pepper spray just in case.

The man did not answer, he only garbled and coughed. My work brain took over my fear. Instantly I rolled the man over and began assessing him. I suppressed a gasp when I rolled him over and a familiar cowl mask came into view. It was cracked down the middle. His face was bleeding from an unknown location. His breathing was labored and staggered. 

Calmly, I closed my eyes and pressed my hands against his chest. 

Oh yeah. Batman was dying. He had several broken ribs. A pneumothorax. A bruised liver, kidney, and pancreas. His cardiac output was a joke. The man had no perfusion. 

I didn’t think. I didn’t hold back like I do at the hospital. I just healed. And healed. And healed. I healed him down to his bone-on-bone knees, sprained ankle, and fractured wrist. 

God, this guy had a lot of injuries. 

I was close to passing out by the time I was done. I had done too much, ate, and slept too little. My powers were demanding when it came to energy. If I didn’t eat or sleep within 30 minutes I was about to pass out next to bat boy himself.

I gave him one last assessment. After double-checking that he would live and that I didn’t miss anything I finally looked at his face again. 

This time I gasped. Batman was the billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne? I shook my head like I was clearing cobwebs. I didn’t have time to dwell on it. Much like Batman, I didn’t want people to know what I could do. The last time people knew…

Just as I turned and took a few steps I rolled my eyes at my nagging thoughts. 

What if someone sees him before he wakes up?

Reaching into my tote bag I pulled out a black medical mask. I not so gracefully MacGyvered it across his exposed face so that it was covered. And with that, I made my way home.

My cat, Hashbrown, eagerly greeted me at the door. I nearly fell asleep locking it. I bent down to pick her up and gave her a kiss on her perfect little cat head. I ripped my gross work scrubs off, threw them in the wash, and crashed on the couch in my underwear before my brain could process what happened.

I healed Batman. 

I healed… Bruce Wayne?

Part Two, Part Three

[bizbat]

Kill for Her - Jason Todd x Reader - 1

🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️

🐼JJK Masterlist🐼

~ Fem terms used for reader.

~ Mild smut alluded to but nothing explicit.

~ Reader's appearance is not described.

~ Parts one, two, three, and four, as well as my other works, can be found here!

~ Also please lmk how i can improve the masterlist if you do end up checking out my other works!!! (:

~ Thank you so, so much for everyone who requested more crazy jason! ILLYYYY (p.s. thank you for being so patient with this, ik it took forever omg)

~ Wc: 1.4k

~ Tw: (Very) Unhealthy Relationship Dynamics and All that Comes with it, Mentions of Having Children, Jason Todd is Not a Good Person in this, Pet Names, Nausea, Angst, Blood and Violence, Variety in Themes, Cringe maybe (lmk)

"Break up?" You think you can just "break up" with Jason Peter "I've never been in a real relationship bc I died as a teenager and I have serious deep running abandonment issues stemming from my more than troubled childhood" Todd?

Funny.

Real funny.

But yk what he doesn't think he really likes that joke and maybe you should actually never tell it again, okay? ((:

It doesn't matter what way you try to approach the subject. Kind, playing into his delusions about being a real couple? You're overthinking things, but that's fine, he loves you anyways.

Yelling, crying, screaming for him to get the fuck out of your home and go die? You're probably just being dramatic, but that's okay, you're sassy, he's sassy, match made in heaven!

The man is kookoo. He genuinely believes that you're destined to get married to each other and either have or adopt a ton of children and he's gonna be the best dad ever and you'll be a wonderful mom ever and blah blah blah blah.

And I've barely scratched the surface of all his crazy, it runs deep.

~ Fic Starts Here. ~

He'd kill for you. Without a doubt.

He's always figured, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he might have to go back on his word to Bruce for your sake, that he might have to further stain his own soul and hands to keep yours clean, to protect you, to protect your relationship. It's not something he's too particularly worried about, to him, you might as well be the only living person on the planet anyways. Don't get him wrong, he loves his family, to the moon and back and more (don't tell them that), but if there were two people left on the planet, and one of them was you, and the other was him, he thinks the world might finally be fair. That life might finally be kind to him.

And with reasoning like that, whispered into your hair at night when he thinks you're asleep, how could you be so cruel as to break his heart? How could you when he begs, begs you not to see how evil he thinks he is at night when he's been up too late and his brain starts to tell him cruel things about himself? When he brings you a gift every time he sees you. Granted, they're stolen, and granted, he broke into your home. But they're exemplary of his devotion to you nonetheless. Or at least that's how you see it, that's how you see him.

It's true, Jason has lived a life more than deserving of pity, of kindness and support. That's part of why you feel nauseous right now, your hands, slightly clammy, nervously wring the hem of the shirt you're wearing. It's big on you, hanging down past your thighs. You can't remember if it's his or yours. Your tongue feels too big in your mouth, and your knee is bouncing so much you're sure the muscles in your calf are well defined by now.

The reason you feel so ill as you wait for him at 12:48 AM, your eyes flicking back and forth between the clock on your phone and your TV currently playing reruns, is because tonight is the end of it. The end of Jason breaking into your apartment with a spare key he had made without your knowledge, or your window when you switch your lock for the umpteenth time. The end of you waking up next to him in your bed when you know he wasn't there when you went to sleep. The end of his overly personal nicknames that allude to a relationship you've told him time and time again that you Do. Not. Have.

Tonight you're "breaking up with" Jason Todd. If you weren't on edge you might laugh at the thought. You and Jason have (at least in your adamant opinion) never agreed to date. He never asked you out, he just started, well, acting the way he acts; breaking into your home, stealing random articles of clothing that he has a particular interest in, acting like your boyfriend. But it's been months. You're tired.

"Jason!" You say, surprised at his sudden appearance. You guess you got too caught up in your thoughts. He smells like metal. You're worried about what he might've been getting up to, but that's not your main focus at the moment.

He hears your voice sing his name as he walks into your shared apartment, through the door this time. He knows how much you hate it when he comes in through the window. He's happy to see you, albeit a little surprised, you're usually asleep by this time. You must've stayed up for him, a smile rises to his lips at the thought. "Hiya doll, what're you doing up so late?" He's clearly exhausted, even though he's turning in relatively early, it now being 1:29, he's already had a long, long night. A long, painful, violent night.

All he wants right now is to lay beside you, to rest his head on your chest and hear your heartbeat. It's his second favorite sound in the world. The first being those gorgeous noises you make when he's got his head between your thighs and your fingers in his hair-

He's pulled from his thoughts at the sight of your lip tucked between your teeth, the worry on your face more than evident. His smile drops as he hangs up his signature leather jacket on the coat rack beside the door, and slowly makes his way over to you. "You okay, doll? What's wrong?" He asks you with such sincerity, like he really does care. And the worst part is you know he does.

"We . . . we need to talk, Jason." He can hear how nervous you are just by the way your voice quivers as you address him. It always makes his heart hurt when he hears that. You avert your gaze, unable to look at him at this moment. You breathe deeply, trying to calm your heart and quell the bile fighting to come out. You need to do this, and you need to do it now. "I . . ." You barely manage to warble out, clenching your jaw before bracing yourself. "I want to break up with you Jason." You say after taking a deep breath through your nose.

This is it, you did it. You can feel the saline tears rising to your waterline, but you aren't sad at all. You swallow the massive lump in your throat as you wait for his response, your hands furiously gripping your shirt, an unreadable expression on his face. He just . . . stares for a moment. He doesn't blink, he doesn't frown, he doesn't start sobbing, fall to his knees, beg you to change your mind.

He doesn't do anything. The longer his stillness goes on, the more and more your confidence deteriorates. Your shoulders drop from their tense state, your lip quivers, and your ears ring from how dead silent the room seems to be. "Jason . . ." He's barely blinking, his head slightly cocked, his hands limply dangling at his sides. "I said," You clear your throat, not favoring how weak you sound. "I said I want to break up with you. I don't want to date you anymore." You know he heard you, but you repeat yourself nonetheless.

The longer the two of you sit in silence, the harder it is to stomach it. Your hands shake as they grip your shirt, the fabric wrinkles in your tight grasp, your chest feels like all of your ribs have turned into snakes and started squeezing and constricting around your pounding heart. His eyes pierce your soul, the usually deep pits now shallow and glassy. Eventually, the second that he sees a single drop of water fall down your cheek he seems to snap out of it.

The life, the color returns to his face and eyes, as if he was just woken out of a deep trance at the mere sight of your tears. Then, perhaps most disturbingly, he laughs. A cold, icy chuckle that slides off his vocal cords and freezes the room. It sounds almost plastic, rehearsed, like he's practiced it in the mirror hundreds of times in preparation for moments like this. "That . . ." he wheezes between bouts of fake laughter. "That was really funny, babe, you almost had me there."

Jason runs a hand through his hair, disguising the act as if he's trying to gather himself when really, he's resisting the urge to grip on the strands of inky black until they rip from his scalp. He's still pretending to collect himself as he slips past your form, still standing almost perfectly still, into your room. You don't even remember the rest of the night. You don't remember what either of you said, what either of you did, all you remember is following him into the room, being coaxed into bed, and resting your swirling head on his chest as his arms wrapped so, so tightly around your shoulders.

Jason doesn't sleep well that night, even with you safely tucked into his arms. It was a joke, it was a joke, it was a joke. That's what he tells himself. Over and over in his head, bouncing off the walls of his skull; it was a joke, it was a joke, it was a joke. It must be, it has to be. His sweet Y/n, who knows what he's been through, who knows he's never had anything, and anything he has ever had was ripped from his hands, his Y/n would never be so cruel.

She'd never leave him. He couldn't let her. Not when he'd die for her, not when he'd kill for her.

[spidernuggets]

I legit beg of thee please can you do prompt17. "Why the fuck did you have to make me fall in love with you" but like he's infected with some toxin from a mission and is genuinely angry at reader for making him fall in love with her, but like they're not together she's just his oblivious best friend and this is how you find out he's in love with you. I just find this hilarious cuz reader being overjoyed like oh shit he loves me but also like hey dude calm down lol Its also a tinge angsty cuz he's tiny self esteem thinks you could never love him back and thats why he's mad

Jason Todd x Reader

"Why the fuck did you have to make me fall in love with you"

You love Jason Todd. And for a long while, you believed it was a platonic type of friendship. Because you loved the way he laughed, his smile, his combat skills, his snarky remarks.

And then an oh shit hit you harder than a bomb. Not only did you love Jason Todd, but you were in love with him.

You joined the Titans a couple of months or so after he officially did. He offered you a brew the first time you met, and you politely declined but thanked him for the offer. This is where Jason immediately took interest in you.

When him, you, Rachel, and Gar were doing that blindfold sparring thay Dick recommended, he was even more intrigued at your skill level, but you weren't as skilled as he was, and ultimately lost the sparring match.

You were mesmerised by his advanced ability, asking him if he could teach you some tricks.

Boy, did this boost his ego.

And then the two of you became best friends. You guys trained together, played video games together, and listened to music together. Sometimes, he'd read lines from his favourite novels to you, ranting how dumb one character was or how stragetic another was.

Eventually, Jason took you to the school that he took refuge in during the time he was living on the streets. He told you his story before he got adopted, telling you his mom was a drug addict, his dad was abusive.

You listened, and you comforted him.

Then he told you how he admired the other kids for performing on stage. That's when he became so passionate for literature.

You joked with him, saying that you couldn't believe his biggest secret was being a theatre nerd. He quickly answered back that they were called 'thespians'.

That's probably the exact time you fell in love. Even after all the pain and neglet he's been put through, he still managed to become the strongest person you've ever met.

When you thanked him for showing you his school, that you appreciated how much he trusts you, you swore you saw a glimmer in his eye, even when he tells you it was no big deal.

Jason means so much to you. That's why you'd never tell him you love him. You think you'd break into a million shattered pieces if he left you because of your devoted but selfish feelings towards him. So you kept your feelings tucked away at the back of your heart, concealed from him.

Jason means so much to you that when he arrived back from what yoh heard was a dangerous mission, you instantly ran up to him, pulling him in a tight embrace, mumbling that you thought you lost him.

And it broke you when his response to your worry was a harsh shove.

He didn't say anything and walked straight to his room. He looked horrible. There was a bruise forming around his eye, dried blood under his nose, dark bags under his eyes and a busted lip.

You quickly turned to Dick, who just came in, confused at Jason's glum behaviour.

"Crane ambushed out of nowhere. Cooked up a new toxin. Anger. We gave Jason the antidote for fear toxin, but it doesn't do much. It should wear off after a couple of hours," Dick tries to assure you, but to no avail.

You pace around your room, biting your nails in worry. You look at the clock, and only 15 minutes have passed, and at this point, you feel like pulling your hair out from how stressed you were.

Jason slammed his door so hard when he went into his room that you felt like it could've broke.

Jason hasn't stepped a foot out in those past 15 minutes, and though you might think it hasn't even been that long yet, you couldn't help but stress and worry for your best friend.

So, you went out of your room, heading straight to his, knocking on the door waiting for an answer.

A depressed looking Jason opened the door slightly, and before you can say anything, he slams it shut.

You wanted to cry. He's never done this before. When he has issues, he always talks to you about them. You think that the anger toxin might've been the reason, but still. You aren't taking a toxin for bullshit, so you let yourself into his room, locking the door behind you to ensure no interruptions.

"Jason, what the hell happened? Talk to me!" You pleaded, trying to take both his hands in yours for comfort. In response, he swiftly pulls away from your touch.

"It's none of your goddamn business! Leave me the fuck alone," he says. He doesn't yell at you, but he sounds annoyed. He turns and walks towards his vinyls, pretending to sort them out, but just meaninglessly flipping through them.

"No, it is my goddamn business because you're my best friend! Why are you even pissed at me? It's not like you have a reason to!" you answer back.

"Says fucking who?" He spits as his voice slightly raises. You didn't want it to, but it slightly scares you. Jason has never acted like this towards you before. And if he is pissed at you for something, what was it?

Stealing the last pudding cup? Accidentally dropping his last beer? Winning the last sparring match against him?

"Okay, tough guy, what the fuck did I do to make you so pissed off!" You yelled back.

"For being so fucking annoying!"

What?

He thought you were annoying? Did he not like being friends with you? Did he regret being friends with you? You guess you are a bit too clongy at times. Or maybe you just talk too much.

Possible reasons start flooding your mind. The one person you loved and was your best friend was so angry at you because you were annoying.

"What?" Was all you can say, and it was heard as a tiny, pathetic squeak in your voice.

"You! You wanna know why I'm so angry?? Because you're so goddamn annoying! The way you smiled so brightly when you beat me in sparring, the way your nose scrunches up when you decipher a code wrong, the way you keep notes on everyone's birthdays on your calendar, the way you compliment me when I'm training you! All of it! It pisses me the fuck off!" He yells. You swear you can see tears at the brim of his eyes. "And the most annoying thing is how perfect you are! You- You're so beautiful and so skilled, and you deserve so much! And I can't give you what you deserve!"

But you stand confused. What the hell was he on about?

Jason rubs his forhead in frustration.

"Why the fuck did you have to make me fall in love with you," he says, way more quietly in contrast to his rant. But his voice breaks. And a single tear falls from his eye.

You couldn't believe what he had just told you. He loves you? He's... in love with you??

You were about to smile and admit your reciprocating feelings, but to Jason, your confused look on your face was disgust towards his undying emotions.

He wipes his cheek, face scrunching up, and his anger rises once more.

"No. No, no. I don't- I can't do this right now. You can kick me to the curb later, just- just get out!" He starts yelling again, stepping towards you, pointing to the door.

You attempt to calm him down, but he continues his string of get outs and leave me alones.

You didn't even notice that he unlocked the door and pushed you out before slamming the door in your face once more. You wanted to feel happy that he felt the same towards you. But he just looked so... hurt.

You decided you shouldn't continue to push. You knew he'd come talk to you later once he calmed down, so you go back into your room, waiting for his arrival.

It was late. Last time you checked your phone, it was 2:37am. You don't know how long it's been since then. Jason still hasn't come to see you.

You had your headphones on, writing notes in your journal for future training sessions and abstract plans for upcoming missions that may help Dick during debriefings.

You didn't hear the light knocks on your door, but saw a figure from your peripheral view walking towards you. When you look up, you see a dejected Jason Todd now in front of you.

He sits down on the edge of you bed as you quickly removed your headphones, storing away your jojrnal, ready to listen to him.

Jason couldn't look at you. "I'm sorry," he says. He thinks it's pathetic. Confessing his feelings because of some stupid toxin. Now he has to apologise, and he pressumes after this, you'd look at your friendship differently.

"It was selfish of me to tell you that I... That I lov-" He was quickly interrupted by you. You crawled along the bed to him, kneeling beside him, taking his chin to move his face so you can see those gorgeous green eyes you always adored. They were red and glassy. For the past few hours, he had been crying, even after the toxin had decreased. But you lay your lips ever so gently on his, and he couldn't believe what you were doing.

It took him a second to respond, but he happily kissed back, reaching forward, wanting more as you pulled away.

"You have no idea how much I love you, Jay," you say, barely above a whisper. His eyes widen.

"What? What, but I.." he sat there speechless. Was this real? Or was this the after effects of the toxin? "But.. But I've been dropping so many hints that I was so interested in you and... and you just seemed to have ignored it all," he quietly says. He thinks he whimpering like a kicked puppy.

"Literally, what hints?" You ask, dumbfounded.

"Are you serious? I've- I've called you babe multiple times, hinted at a date, gave you a flower," he lists the many times he had shown a liking to you. "I offered to teach you some combat skills- I keep those skills sacred, I've never taught anyone! Even Gar was yelling at me because I wouldn't teach him!" Jason says unbelievably.

Your hmfave heats up with embarrassment. "Well.. I never really said that observational skills were my strong suit," you weakly say, looking down, avoiding his gaze. And Jason couldn't helo but laugh a bit. He just found you so cute.

He takes hold of your waist, and you squeal as he shifts you so you're sitting on his lap.

"So.. You love me?" He asks, a cheeky grin on his face.

You roll your eyes and scoff. "God, you and your ego," you mutter, holding his face in your hands as you and him share one last kiss for the night.

[whydoyoucare866]

Moonlight

PAIRINGS:

Titans!Jason todd x reader

SUMMARY:

Bruce has taken in Jason Todd as his youngest son and the new robin some months ago, Bruce’s goddaughter also came back to Gotham after being away for a year.

Some months after meeting Jason she starts a friends with benefits relationship with him, suddenly Jason has to move to the Titans tower and two weeks later Bruce sends her too, but, why is Jason ignoring her and acting like he doesn’t know her and why does it get worse when Rose Wilson arrives to the tower??

A/N: in this story Dick and Jason will not have such a big age gap as they do in the show, Dick will be 23 while Jason will be 19, but for the sake of the plot it will, also ignore that there’s already a dc character called moonlight, also the powers I made up for her make no sense at all but we’ll have to deal with it.

TWS: slow burn, angst, blood, canon violence, mentions of death, anxiety, jealousy, friends to friends with benefits to enemies to lovers?, maybe death of a main character (haven’t decided yet) change of plot

Keep in mind that English is not my first language, I also know nothing about guns, human anatomy or fighting in the language so I'm sorry if I make a lot of mistakes

Story Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Superman by Eminem was playing as the car Bruce sent to get you from the airport approached the gothic styled manor you hadn't seen in a year or so, the way everything looked the same brought you a sense of comfort, you knew Dick wasn’t Robin anymore, you were really close to Dick and he had told you all about how Bruce was a bad father and how he didn’t want to become him, you understood him, although you couldn’t help but feel bad for Bruce, you knew he was trying his best and he may not have been the best father, but he was a great godfather, it probably was because he wasn’t 100% responsible of you, he didn’t have to teach you about emotions, life, problems, or shit like that, he just had to spoil you and talk to you, so it was probably easier for him.

As you grew closer to the manor you noticed that Bruce and Alfred were already waiting for you by the door with some guy, he looked a little bit younger than you, but not too much, you couldn’t see him very well from the distance, but he seemed to be in casual clothes so you assumed he lived here, he was probably another stray that Bruce took in after Dick left so you paid it no mind. Eventually you arrived to the mansion and you could cry, it had been a year since you had last seen Bruce and Alfred, it had been a year since your dad had died, he was the only parent you ever knew, your mom wasn’t a deadbeat who abandoned you or anything like that, but she wasn’t “normal” she had special abilities (which you also have) that you didn’t know were special until you showed them to a boy in kindergarten and made him cry out of fear, at that moment you didn’t get why the boy had cried when you just tried to show him how your hands could glow, you then got a long talk from your mom about how most people don’t have the same abilities as you, therefore you have to keep them a secret, otherwise people would be scared or even worse it would put you at risk because there were bad people who wanted those abilities for themselves. You learned to take the talk seriously when your mom got killed by some scientist who wanted to have her powers and it was all thanks to not hiding them too well, leaving your dad and yourself on your own.

The sound of the car’s door opening pulled you out of your thoughts, and you immediately started getting off the car, you started walking towards the entrance of the Manor and all of the memories came flooding back making you emotional, you approached Bruce and just crashed into him with a hug, he became stiff, but he tried to comfort you as you cried in his arms, you hadn’t seen him ever since your dad had died, you had ran away from your problems and went to Europe for a year thinking it would help, but it didn’t, you were completely alone at Europe, at least here in Gotham you had Bruce and Dick and Alfred, you weren’t completely alone, but over there you were, and it just made you realize how much you missed and appreciated them.

When you calmed down, you moved on to Alfred who looked just as neat as always and also hugged him tight, after all Alfred reminded you of a loving grandfather and always gave you comfort, Alfred pulled away and excused himself to bake your favorite desserts, just like he always did whenever you were sad, it all felt so familiar that you felt comfort for the first time in a year. After hugging Bruce and Alfred and breaking down you realized there was still a boy who probably didn’t know who you were and had to witness you being a mess as his first impression of you, poor boy probably would be really uncomfortable after seeing a stranger come into his house and break down while he just stood there, the thought of it made you feel embarrassed making the atmosphere really awkward as you just stood staring at each other not knowing what to do, or say, Bruce took on the tense atmosphere and started introducing you to each other in hopes that the tension would fade away. You learned that his name was Jason Todd and he had just gotten taken in a year ago, some months after you left for Europe, Bruce also told you about how he found him and how he was now the new Robin, Jason have you a short nod as his way of saying hi and then Bruce started telling him about you, he told Jason about your abilities and how you were the vigilante known as moonlight which made Jason look excited, Bruce seeing Jason’s reaction told you how he was a fan of Robin and Moonlight and it sparked a bit of pride inside of you, but then made you feel embarrassed as you realized you had probably disappointed the boy by showing him how weak you actually were.

After the introductions finished, Alfred came out telling you all to get inside and to let you go to your room and accommodate, which you thanked him, You loved Bruce and Jason seemed nice, but you were exhausted after flying and you just wanted to get some rest, Alfred guided you to your room as if you hadn’t bern there a thousand times and insisted on carrying your luggage for you even though you said you could handle it.

“Here we are Miss (Y/N), you already know where Master Bruce’s and my rooms are in case you need anything, and if you ever need Master Jason his room is the one that’s right in front of yours in Master Dick’s old room .”

You thanked Alfred who excused himself and went to the kitchen and you decided you were too tired to unpack and that you would do it tomorrow, so you took the book you were reading and your headphones out of your bag and laid down to read a bit, you were really tired and after some pages your eyes started to get really heavy and you felt yourself drifting off to sleep.

taglist:

@fairyeoll @singitoutgirl26

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Paper rings 🩷

Jason Todd x singer!reader

A/N: I have to be honest, half of this is cat content ngl. This is based off the song by T. Swift :) Catdad!Jason is real because I say so. I geeked out and somehow love for greek mythology always find its way into my Jason fics idk

Enjoy!

~Fi 🪻

Prompt: reader is a singer who writes a song for Jason. How does he react?

Requested by: 🌙 anon

Warnings: fluff all around! Cute kitty moments, the concert parts may be all wrong idk what I'm doing lmao

Word count: 1.8k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

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You let out a sigh as you got into your car. It had been a long day in the studio, recording new songs for your latest album. Your throat hurt, but you were happy with the progress you had made today. Starting the car, you made your way home to the apartment you shared with your boyfriend, Jason.

It was his birthday soon, and you'd planned a little surprise, not only for him but for your fans as well. You had written him a song, one that would be on your newest record. You smiled only thinking about it, you couldn't wait to pull off this surprise.

The show you were performing tomorrow in Gotham was no ordinary one. You'd called it the "Jazz on Special", which was just a a play on Jason. Your lovely, yet sometimes a little daft lover had not gotten the hint. Good.

He always attended your concerts, watching from backstage, giving his support. The moment you stepped off stage, he was immediately one you, showering you in compliments and kisses, telling you how proud he was of you.

So you figured this was the least you could do to show your appreciation for him. You wanted the whole world to know how much he actually meant to you, scream it into the crowds. So that's excatly what you were going to do.

Unlocking your apartment door, you stepped in, dropping your keys in the little dish right by the entrance. You could hear footsteps the minute the door closed. Jason came towards you, with a big smile and open arms. "How was your session today, Baby?" He asked, wrapping you in his strong and comforting arms. You snaked your arms around his waist and hid your face against his chest. "Was really good. My throat is sore though, I need some tea." You mumbled, letting a content sigh to be in his arms. He placed a kiss to the top of your head.

"I'll make you some, got get comfy, okay?" He said softly, stroking your hair. "Thanks, Jay," you replied, slipping from his embrace with smile. You went to put on a change of clothes. You did wear comfortable clothes to your recording sessions, but you had to dress it up at least little bit with some jewelry. It probably wouldn't be the best look to show up to work in your kitty PJs.

After having changed into said kitty PJs, you plopped down on the couch next to Jason and your cat, Nyx. She was a black stray with a white streak on her forehead. You'd picked her up from a local animal shelter, you just couldn't resist her cute little white paws that made her look like she wore socks and the fact that she matched Jason. It was supposed to be his Christmas gift one year, but you just couldn't keep her to yourself.

Although you got her for Jason, he insisted you name her, his reasoning being that she got her looks from dad so her name should be from mom. And yes, you do treat her like your child. You named her Nyx, after the greek goddess. She was the first, daughter of Chaos, night incarnate. You thought that it fit, with Jason being the protector of Gothams street at night. And in a way, you were grateful to her, to Mother Night, for holding Jason safely in her dark yet loving embrace.

"Nyxieeee!! There you are my sweet girl! I missed you SO much, yes I did," you beamed in a high pitched baby voice, scratching her face. You stole her off Jason's lap, making him huff. Taking her into your arms, you placed overly dramatic kisses on her tiny head. She didn't seem to mind, though, rubbing her cheeks against your hand and purring. Jason's face softened at the sight.

You looked so precious like this, the cat curled up in your arms as you cooed at her. You'd be a little embarrassed about your habit of talking to animals in a baby voice if Jason too, wasn't guilty of it as well. He put an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him. "You know, technically that's my cat," he said with a smirk on his face. You shot him a glare.

"Technically, you wouldn't have her without me and you asked me to be her mom. She's my child too, Jason!" You responded playfully. He threw his head back, laughing. "I guess she is, huh. Thank you for being the mother of my furrbaby." He sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "It's my absolute pleasure, baby."

You were getting sleepy, your eyes unvoluntarily fluttering shut ever so often. Nyx was curled up on your lap, peacefully snoozing away while Jason was intently watching whatever was playing on the TV. You took a sip of the tea Jason had so lovingly prepared for you. Setting the mug back down on the coffee table, your gaze shortly fell on Nyx and- wait

You had to do a double take. She had one of her small paws reached out towards Jason who was gently holding it and without paying much mind, softly stroking his thumb over it. Your heart was about to explode. Your lips were slightly parted and your eyes were wide, looking at Jason completely bewildered. He noticed your stare, turning his head towards you with furrowed brows.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He asked, the question slightly muffled by the hand that was supporting his head. "That's the cutest fucking thing I've ever seen," you mumbled, the shock pretty evident in your voice as you gestured to his huge hand that was ever so softly caressing Nyx's comparably tiny paw. His eyes softened.

"It is, isn't it? The first time she did it I was practically shaking from excitement," he laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. Your brows shot together. "What do you mean 'the first time'?! Has she done this before? AND YOU NEVER TOLD ME?!" You yelled in disbelief. How dare he keep something so precious from you.

"Sorry, Baby."

"Unbelievable."

Today was the day. The day you would pour your heart out in front of Gotham. To say you were nervous would be an understatement. The blood in your veins was at boiling point and you were seconds away from a panic attack. Fiddling with the two colorful paper rings you had made for today, you took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. This was fine. You were fine. You've literally done this hundreds of times. But would Jason like it? God, you hoped he would.

Before you could overthink more, you heard your cue through your earpiece and it was showtime.

The 'normal' part of the concert went well, you performed some of your best songs, the crowd was amazing and it was overall an incredible night. You'd talked to your fans a little on stage between songs, receiving some nice little gifts here and there. Flowers, plushies as well as a bra was thrown on stage. Well that was a first. Not that you complained, you were rather flattered, actually.

It was nice to know that you had the ladies on your side. Jason, who was watching from backstage, almost keeled over with laughter when he saw you pick up the under garment, completely bewildered. He would never let you live this down.

"Alright, Gotham," you said breathlessly, "before our lovely night comes to an unfortunate end, I have prepared a little something. Not only for you, but also for my special someone, who might or might not be here today," cheering could be heard from the audience as you fixed your earpiece and chuckled breathlessly into the microphone.

Singing and jumping around stage sure was a work out.

"This is a song I've not shared publicly, as it is from my new album, but I thought I'd make a little exception for all of you and at the same time be the best girlfriend and make the coolest birthday present ever!" You laughed. The moment you mentioned that it was a new song the crowd absolutely lost their shit. You don't think any of your concerts have ever been this loud. Your eardrums nearly burst at the sheer volume of teenage girls screaming their souls out.

"Here's Paper rings. This is for you, Jason." You said with a smile on your face. The music started playing and it's like all your worries faded away. You'd been waiting for this moment for weeks, to finally share this song and your love for Jason. As you sang the lyrics, a compilation of cute and silly pictures of you and Jason ran over the huge screen behind you. Some were of you and Jason in a face mask, others were of Jason cuddling with Nyx. You occasionally glanced over to Jason who was doing his best to hold back his tears with the biggest smile on his face. Your heart swelled at the sight.

With the last bit of music fading out, you finished the song and bowed. The picture remaining on the screen was of you and Jason kissing with a sunset in the background. A heart was drawn around it. The minute the last words left your lips, Jason was storming on stage, showering you in kisses. He held you tightly against him, peppering kisses all over your face. His actions made you giggle into the microphone and the crowd went wild. The security guards were really struggling by this point.

You grabbed Jason's hand and slipped one of the two paper rings on his finger, pulling him in for a sweet kiss. The dam broke. There were happy tears rolling down his cheeks as he continued kissing you. Managing to pull away, you addressed your fans one last time. "Thank you, and Good Night, Gotham!"

You squealed when Jason unexpectedly picked you up bridal style and whisked you off stage, your head thrown back in laughter. It was safe to say you were on the front page of the Gotham Gazette the next day.

Jason was talking his heart out on the way home, talking about how much he loved it and how much he loved you. You were listening patiently, holding his hand while a big smile was plastered on your cheeks.

Now, you found yourself in the familiar spot on the couch, Jason's arms wrapped around you with little Nyx making biscuits on your thigh. "I have one question for you, though," you said, turning your head to Jason. "What is it?" He replied softly.

"How the fuck did you not get the play on your own name?"

"Oh, shut up." He pouted, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You let out a soft laugh.

"I love you too, Baby."

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