#jason todd and his past self

[101maverick]

It’s three am i shouldn’t be awake, but please take this suffering from my trembling hands and feel.

@doingthewritethings i lost an unholy amount of eyelashes due to how much I had to wipe the tears from my eyes in order to finish this thing, and the fact I can’t even bring myself to be mad about that says something. Chapeau.

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Dick is thrown back in time to a couple days before his past self is scheduled to leave on the mission to space, the one during which Jason will die.

Past Dick gets a very frantic and concerning phone call from someone claiming to be his future self, begging him not to go on the mission. And for some reason he‘s supposed to keep an eye on Jason? What the hell is that about? They’re not that close…

[superbat-lmao]

Jason Todd Fic (De-aged?)

(INCOMPLETE/UNFINISHED)

Of all the kinds of magic, Jason Todd hates death magic the most.

So when the call comes through about Grave Affair, he tells Oracle where she can shove it.

“Hood, if there was anyone else available I’d have called them. Believe me, you’re beyond my last choice for this.”

And he’s standing on a rooftop, firing rubber bullets at a guy wielding a magic scythe. He’s ranting about final words, last confessions, things Jason never had.

He’s trying not to think of dirt and starched sleeves and silk linings.

When he’s finally close enough, Jason disarms the guy, but not without the blade touching him.

There’s a thud behind him but he’s already got the wannabe reaper in cuffs by the time he turns around.

And is met with his 15 year old self, wearing an outfit he knows. An outfit that never made it back to his closet.

The boy’s in shock, momentarily disoriented and Jason’s lucky the kid isn’t running, but Oracle is in his ear, awaiting confirmation of something Jason doesn’t think he can say out loud.

He takes off the helmet, holsters his guns, and crouches as low as he can. The kid is squinting at him but he isn’t running.

“You’ve been displaced in time.” He jerks a thumb at the knock off grave digger behind him. “The scythe cut me and brought you here. I’m you, but older.”

The kid squints harder, if that’s possible. Jason uses a couple of the old bat-signs, and doesn’t remove his domino.

“Prove it.”

God, every time he’d tried to seem intimidating, that’s how he’d sounded?

Jason tilts his head and thinks a moment. His old scars are gone, it can’t be anything Jason would willingly volunteer, but even now he doesn’t want to say those things out loud.

“We never told Bruce about Catherine’s last dealer.” The kid stopped squinting. “Or, or about. Well, we never told anyone about Tommy.” The kid flinched. It was a name neither of them had spoken since he died.

“Are we going back to the manor?” Jason shrugged at him. He didn’t want to, but this wasn’t about what he wanted anymore. He wanted to take the kid back to his safe house and burn those clothes. He wanted to cut out his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at him. He wanted to be anywhere but here.

“Depends. Let me call in the calvary to come pick this guy up and you can decide. It’s the manor, or my safe house.”

He put the helmet on to be met with silence, either Babs was finally at a loss for words or had muted his channel. He sent his location and the pick-up signal. There was no confirmation and Jason decided he had hit his limit on dealing with bats before physically disconnecting himself from the comms network.

“If I pick the manor, how upset will they be?”

And wasn’t that just a crowbar to the gut?

“Not in the way you’re thinking, but a lot. I’ll be honest, it’s going to be worse than when [insert]. I know what you think they’re upset about and for them, it was years ago. But you going back will be like a bomb going off for them. I’ll take you, but you’ve gotta know it’ll probably overwhelm you.”

“And the safe house?”

“I’ll take the couch. And make you wear a different set of clothes because just looking at you hurts. But um, you can ask questions or don’t. Eat, read, ignore me. It’ll be a breather until the manor, or until the spell ends and you go back.”

“Go back?”

Jason wanted to throw up.

“To Ethiopia.”

——

True to his word, Jason burned those clothes the second they were in his safe house.

The kid, because he wasn’t willing to think of him as himself, had locked himself in Jason’s bedroom with a couple paperback copies of things he said he hadn’t read yet. Jason was making a sort of pasta bake in the oven and cleaning his guns on the coffee table.

His gear, except for the helmet, was stashed away properly, but he hadn’t turned the comms back on. He was sure that Oracle had been alerting all of the bats to the presence of his 15 year old self and watching live feeds of the interrogation to see what spell was cast, or how the scythe worked, but Jason was trying to avoid thinking about it.

Because if it was him, if he was 15 instead of 23 and in an apartment with an adult man claiming to be himself but built like Bruce, he’d fucking lock himself in and refuse to come out. Sure, he wouldn’t want to see the bats, all the people he remembers letting down by running away and at the peak of their fighting where Jason had believed none of them actually cared about him, but that doesn’t mean he’d really want to be alone with the veritable stranger of himself either.

He has his phone shut off, his comms are physically disabled, and this particular safe house is one he hasn’t had the chance to use yet since it’s a sort of last resort. It’s kept in a spot with few to no cameras and hasn’t been around long. Jason makes a point of keeping one safe house as a last resort, so that if he really does fuck up beyond what the bats can tolerate, there will be one place they can’t immediately find him.

He’ll have to burn this one soon, but it gives them a couple hours, if not about two days.

He’s trying not to remember the fight, the hasty decision to leave, being told there wasn’t enough room in the helicopter. God, he doesn’t even know at what point the kid was taken from, but Ethiopia hadn’t surprised him. He must not have made it into the warehouse yet.

When the oven goes off, Jason is trying hard not to picture cigarette smoke and eyes in the dark.

He makes two plates, sets one on the counter and the other on the coffee table, and goes to knock on the door to the bedroom.

When the younger Jason emerges, he looks wary, but not frightened. There’s also a calculating look in his eye that Jason knows others assume he got from Bruce, but was present while he was on the streets.

“Do you mind if I eat out here?”

“Knock yourself out.”

They’re almost finished eating when the boy finally speaks up.

“I’ve got questions for you.”

“Sure, but I have one for you too. Only one, so you pick what you wanna do first. Ask or answer.”

“Ask.”

“Go ahead.”

“The guy that brought me here, what does the magic entail?”

“I’m not a hundred percent sure. He was doing his little speech while we were fighting, something about meeting yourself and seeking absolution I think. It sounded like a chance to ask yourself questions or have a conversation with a different version of yourself but I don’t exactly know why. I also don’t know how long it lasts. I got the call about him pretty late and walked in without a full picture. One of the other bats is probably looking more into it right now and we’ll get an update at some point.”

“Other bats?”

Jason doesn’t envy Talia for having to explain to him Bruce’s knack for acquiring orphans.

“Remember when Bruce first took us in and we couldn’t understand what he wanted from us? Well, it’s morphed into a bit of a habit of picking up orphans. It isn’t just Dick, Alfred and us anymore. There’s a couple others and all the explanations are kinda long, so I’ll wait till the end to really get into that if it’s alright. In terms of how many are important for you to keep track of and you might come across at the manor, at least six, excluding the three you know.”

“Why aren’t you living at the manor? Why do you have a safe house?”

“A couple years from how old you are now, Bruce and I have a fight. We’re still kind of working on it, but it’s easier for me to have my own place than have to deal with all the riff raff. The manor isn’t as quiet as it used to be, and it’s too many variables.”

God, he’s really trying to be vague here instead of having to tell the kid he’s right and his Dad doesn’t love him. That his Dad doesn’t save him and that he’ll try to kill him. Jason doesn’t know if he can look his younger self in the eye and tell him everything he’s done. But he remembers being overwhelmed by too many people, too many emotions to try and navigate in conversations. It’s still something he struggles with, not that he’s told anyone about it.

“What was the fight about?”

“Since we don’t know how much of this you’ll remember when you get sent back, I don’t really want to get into specifics, in case we create some sort of paradox. Once we know for sure I’ll give you more details but basically, appropriate levels of consequence alongside a heavy dose of blame for shit Bruce fucked up.”

“What about Dick and Alfred?”

“What about them?”

“What do they think? Do they agree with you or Bruce?”

“They’re a little more complicated. Alfred loves us, has made sure we know it, but abstains from voicing his true opinions on it. I think he disagrees with us, but doesn’t want to push. Dick is vocal about disagreeing with us, but doesn’t think Bruce is completely in the clear either. He’s harder to predict in conversation and his goals are less obvious than Alfred’s.”

“What’s your question for me?”

“What’s the last thing you remember before coming here?”

“Bruce getting in a helicopter and telling me to stay put.”

“Alright.”

“That’s it?”

“All the useful information will come from this time, not yours. I just wanted to make sure I knew what part of the day you’d already been through.”

His younger self appears to think this over.

It’s almost a relief talking to him. Jason’s goals have always been pretty straight forward. Stay fed, stay warm, protect himself against adults, and stay alert. There are no mind games, or unspoken rules, or demands, or debts for his actions. As an adult, there is nothing he would want from a kid and as a kid, he’s found probably the only adult he’ll believe doesn’t want anything from him.

“Can you tell me about the other bats?”

“Sure, but I’m starting on dishes and you’re filling tupperware while I’m talking.”

So Jason explains Tim and Damian and Cass and Steph and Duke and Babs. He’s careful to avoid his own history and how he met them, only really stating how they each got taken in. How they met Bruce. His younger self doesn’t seem to mind the vague information, it’s been a long day and Jason doesn’t have much to hide from him except the obvious, his death and resurrection. So by the time the kitchen is clean, there’s little left to say except a brief rundown of what’s stocked where, what parts of the apartment have traps set, and what weapons are allowed to be kept in the bedroom.

He tells the kid he’ll be doing a short patrol tonight. They have a code for “all clear” that predates the bats, so they’ll stick to it. And he gives the kid a burner in case his training isn’t enough. He shows him how to contact himself, and if it’s really bad, the emergency beacon.

Nightwing is the one who finds him, but he isn’t stupid enough to recognize the others are likely on hand but just out of reach so that when he runs, they minimize his head start.

“Oracle says you shut off your phone, comms, tracker, and is locating your safe house as we speak.”

“And you’re telling me because?”

“Because we need to bring him to the cave. Because he won’t cooperate with any of us. Because we don’t want either of you to be alone and you damn well scared the hell out of all of us by disappearing like that.”

“You guys figure out the scythe and how long before he’s sent back?”

“Lantern figured it out. About 7 more days, from what we can tell.”

“How long until B’s planet side again?”

“About 3 days.”

There’s math somewhere in that sentence that Jason can’t calculate. A problem he doesn’t have the answer for. He refuses to acknowledge what’s about to happen, because if he does, he’ll step off the roof without his grapple.

“Tell the calvary to stop hiding and meet us here. I need everyone to agree to ground rules.”

Cass is the most proficient at B’s trick of appearing from the shadows, but the rest of the bats are a fair hand at it too. And suddenly, everyone who had been out of town slightly over a day ago, was congregated on a single roof. If Jason couldn’t solve the problem of seven days and Bruce Wayne, he’s not sure he really has a chance with so many more variables thrown in. Especially with the least predictable ones.

“We will meet you all at the cave tomorrow, in the morning. You are not crowding my safe house.”

There is some shuffling, but no objections.

“I have told him all of your names. He does not know more than how each of you loosely came to meet B. He does not know my vigilante name, the new kids vigilante names, except Oracle, or how I met any of you. Or when.”

The shuffling has stopped. It’s just the dark, silence, Jason, and everyone he’s spent what amounts to his current life avoiding.

“He is 15 and for him, Batman just got on a helicopter in Ethiopia.”

If there’s silence now, Jason can’t hear it over the rushing in his ears.

“For as long as he is in this timeline, I will remain close enough to get him out of any situation you put him in.”

He’s focusing on a spot in the middle distance. Jason is afraid he might black out.

“He will know that we are lying to him soon, although I can’t guess how quick he’ll catch on. When he asks about it, about our - death.”

It takes almost a full minute for Jason to keep speaking.

“You will direct him to me.”

Jason sweeps his unfocused eyes over a mismatched group of vigilantes in the dark. They are rigid and unflinching. Jason wants more than anything in the world to be somewhere, anywhere else.

“You will not leave him and B alone in the same room together.”

This time, his eyes are focused and he meets each of their gazes.

He looks to Cass last, and at her nod, Jason steps off the roof and swings away.

——

Jason gives himself ground rules the next morning.

“You can ask questions. You might not always get an answer.”

“If someone will not give you an answer, come find me.”

“If you want out, of anything, you press the button I gave you.”

“I will remain in the same building as you at all times. If you need space from me, say so. If you want me in the next room, signal. I will stay as close or as far as you prefer.”

“There are things that the others will know that you have not shared. I cannot undo that, and I am sorry. However, both things that I told you as proof of myself are, to my knowledge, things they remain unaware of.”

“I will respect whatever decision you make in what you choose to share with them.”

“I will not, under any circumstances, allow you and B to be alone in the same room.”

The final rule gets him a raised eyebrow, one that he stares unflinchingly at.

“Why not?”

“I do not trust his emotional regulation when it comes to you. He is still safe, still Bruce or Batman or B. But he has made far too many mistakes for me to allow him to make decisions regarding you. I believe him to be, emotionally compromised.”

There is still skepticism in his own face. The face of a child that will never become an adult. Not the way he should have.

“And you won’t tell me why?”

“Not until we know for sure about eh paradox thing. And we both know there are some things neither of us are ever gonna want to talk about - for me, this is one of them. So, for now, no.”

The kid seems to accept this and they pack a small bag of Jason’s gear and books. They’re on his motorcycle in less than half an hour and are pulling up to the cave entrance in less than two hours.

There is no welcome party. Just the cave, and Alfred.

There is no glass case.

When Jason cuts the engine on the bike, he feels pins and needles down his spine.

He takes his gear out of his bag and moves towards the lockers to store it. He can’t watch this. Can’t watch his younger self approach Alfred. He tries not to hear what they say to each other. He fails.

Jason doesn’t have to imagine what he would have said to Alfred when he was 15, if he had gotten home. The conversation is eerily similar to his own nightmares.

“Hey Alfie.”

“Master Jason, it has been a long time since I have seen you, although I suspect the reverse is not quite true for you.”

He hears a huffed laugh behind him and squeezes his eyes shut.

“I’m sorry I ran away.”

Jason knows he must have steeled himself to the words, to say them now or risk not saying them at all.

“Master Ja-“

“And I know that I shouldn’t have done it. And that he, I said that it’s been years since you’ve probably thought about it, since I ran away, so maybe you’ve already gotten the apology but for me it was yesterday. And I don’t know how I’m going to go home and tell you that I’m sorry, and I know I will never get to skip chores for the rest of my life but Alfie I just need to know that you don’t hate me too.”

Jason remembers being 15 and thinking that Bruce didn’t trust him anymore, thinking that he killed a man, and that Dick was never really his older brother and that he just wanted a parent. Someone normal who could love him normally without it being twisted up into expectations and disappointment. He remembers the polite distance that he thought Alfred was using every time he called him Master Jason, and how it had felt like a barrier to one of the only adults he was almost convinced loved him. How he all but threw it back in the man’s face by running away to another continent to chase down a woman who sold him out.

Jason doesn’t know what Alfred’s face looks like. Doesn’t want to know.

Because he knows the tension in his own voice, the way it spells out tears. Knows that his younger self if already crying even if he can’t hear it at this distance. Cannot allow himself to picture what Alfred must look like.

“Oh Jason, my boy.”

And there is a soft sound behind him, a rustle of fabric and a hiccup pressed into a shirt.

He’s sure Alfred has bundled him up and carried him over to one of the cots, or chairs, or even the training mats. He doesn’t turn around. He wasn’t meant to hear this.

Because Alfred is murmuring nonsense into his hair. And holding him while he cries. And Jason forces himself to walk upstairs to the kitchen, to sit at the counter and wait.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed by the time he calls Babs.

“Oracle.”

“Jason, what do you want?”

“I need an alert set up. One that will go straight to my phone the second B is planet side. One that tells me when he is within 100 yards of the manor, even if he comes by Kryptonian.”

There’s a silence on the line. Either the bats were broadcasting to her through an open comm during his little speech the night before, or Dick filled her in. Either way, they both know she knows his last rule.

“Alright.”

“Thank you.”

Jason drifts for a while. At least until he hears footsteps closing the familiar distance between the cave and the kitchen.

Jason gives them both a small nod when the come in, and the younger Jason takes a seat right next to him, without a buffer, but they don’t speak much as Alfred starts his prep work on lunch.

It’s obvious the kid has a question when his shoulders start to tense.

“What’s your question?”

“What room am I staying in?”

Jason glances over to Alfred, and he looks about as calm as to be expected. He’d never expected to see Alfred cry, but he feels a dulled shock at the sight of his reddened eyes.

“You are welcome to your old room, or I can prepare a guest room for you.”

“Why wouldn’t you be using our room?”

“That fight I mentioned? Well, I was - hurt a while after. It was easier for me to stay on the first floor than to take the stairs. I’m not here as often anymore, so I mostly stick to the guest room if I am. You can take our room if you want it.”

There’s a small part of him that wants to pray that Alfred made the room look less like a shrine, or a time capsule, because the kid knows several years have passed for Jason and if he walks into the same room he remembers from earlier “that day” Jason isn’t sure how he’ll face those questions right now.

“I had some time to prepare it this morning, it might be close to what you remember and I took the liberty of stocking it with your old clothes that fit you now.”

“Thanks Alfie.”

After a while, the kid glances at him and Jason supposes he’s got a fair guess as to where he wants to go. He clears his throat.

“We’ll be in the library until lunch. And um, thank you.”

He doesn’t want to read the look on Alfred’s face. He doesn’t want to be in this kitchen. In this building. The look on Alfred’s face is kinder than he deserves.

“Of course, Master Jason. Do enjoy yourselves.”

They aren’t ambushed on the way to the library, but they aren’t alone when they enter.

The kid stiffens beside him and shoots a glance at Jason’s left hand. Counts the taps, and then relaxes.

Jason knows Cass also probably counted the taps, and might be able to figure out what they mean, but they’ve never talked about it.

“Hello, Cass.”

“Hello, Jasons.”

There’s a snort from the kid and Jason is grateful that she staged their meeting like this. Of everyone else in the manor, Cass is the one who hates seeing anyone, including Jason, in pain. She’s the only one aside from Alfred who seems to understand when he needs to leave and lets him.

“Want me to read in here or go put books in your room?”

The kid eyes Cass for a moment, and then Jason.

“You can take the books. But if you want to read too I won’t stop you.”

Jason takes that for what it is, that the kid will be alright for a few minutes, but doesn’t want more than 20 by himself.

Dick is waiting for him outside the door to his old bedroom.

“You didn’t say the rest of us couldn’t see him alone, just Bruce.”

Jason’s mouth is dry. He pushes the door open and is off kilter. It looks like when he was 15. It looks like he never went to high school. It looks just enough like his old room and yet everything that had made it his, was gone.

“It’s up to him. Bruce is the only one I won’t allow to be alone with him. It doesn’t have to be me in the room if the kid doesn’t want, but they won’t be alone.”

“You think he’ll hurt him?”

That startles Jason, badly enough that he laughs. It’s a broken sound, scratches all the edges of his throat and teeth as it leaves his mouth. Dick tenses behind him.

“You don’t want to know what I think.”

“Jason, I don’t know how to fix this.”

Jason sets the books down on his old desk and turns. He doesn’t want this conversation. He doesn’t want to keep talking to these people. He’s sick of the echoes of his old life, the one he can’t return to. He can’t sew himself back into belonging, he doesn’t have enough of the fabric of himself to try.

“You don’t have to try.”

Dick makes a sound like he’s been punched.

“Of course I do -“ Jason cuts him off.

“We weren’t brothers, Dick. You made that clear, not just to me, but to him. I don’t know what you’re trying to do now, but you don’t have to. I’m not asking you to. It’s not your job to try and clean up B’s mistakes. You’re running yourself into the ground trying to play clean up crew for him. Just stop.”

“I’m trying to fix my own mistakes Jason, not his. I shouldn’t have treated you like you weren’t my brother. I want you to be my brother now. But I don’t know how. I don’t know what you want, but I want to try. It’s the only regret I can’t live with.”

Dick looks close to tears. Scratch that, Jason can see them, running silently down his face. His breath just isn’t hitching and he can’t seem to decide if Jason will be more or less upset if he keeps up the eye contact, but he continues to stand outside Jason’s childhood bedroom. Waiting. Asking for permission. Asking to be let in.

“Is this your dry run of the speech you’re gonna give the kid?”

“This is the first time you’ve been in one place long enough for me to get the words out. You’ve bolted long before I had worked up the nerve to say it to you before.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I’d like to.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Then tell me how to prove it to you.”

Jason thinks it over. He thinks about himself, about a kid sitting on a roof and squinting at him, asking for proof. He’d known how to convince his 15 year old self. He’s not sure how to convince himself now. He wishes the dull ache in his chest would go away. That he could stop wanting people, stop remembering the familiarity they used to share, even if it wasn’t always happy.

It never stopped him, even when it should have. He would still run jobs for Willis, or get a fix for Catherine. He still tried to save Shelia. He wasn’t sure if he could survive it again. He didn’t last time.

But the part of him that he couldn’t avoid thinking about anymore, the part of him standing in his favorite room on the planet, just down the hall, felt like it was clawing through his ribcage. The part of him that would always be 15 and desperate to have an older brother, to have a family, someone who could just make the world go away for a minute. Not another fucked up parental figure, but someone else. That part of him was trying to escape himself and curl up inside the person who wouldn’t even cross the threshold of his door without permission.

“Ask me again in two weeks.”

“What?”

“Once the kid is gone, give me a week. If you’re serious.”

“I am. In two weeks, what then?”

Maybe more of his composure had cracked than he was willing to admit. Because the look he was giving Dick made the man crumple.

“I don’t know, but. I’d be willing to try.”

“Can I - please, Jason I won’t. Right now I just. Please come here. Just for a minute, please Jay.”

And maybe in two weeks Jason would be able to let him in, maybe he wouldn’t have to wait outside the door. But he knows the week he’s in for. It’s going to be long, and worse than any torture Jason’s been through so far. He isn’t sure he’ll be able to get through it.

To look a 15 year old in the eyes and send him to his death.

Jason fucking hates death magic.

So he takes a step forward, and another and another until the door is shut behind him. Until Dick has a death grip around his waist and forces Jason’s arms over his shoulders. His face is jammed right into his chest and Jason rests his own against Dick’s shoulder.

“I am so glad you’re alive, little wing.”

Jason allows himself five minutes. To memorize the sensation in a way that he wouldn’t be able to forget. Sometimes, when he would try to think back and picture Catherine, he would wish he had been able to memorize the hugs she gave him more clearly.

When he steps back, Dick’s hands spasm beneath him for a minute before seeming to remember himself and let go. He doesn’t try to wipe at his eyes and the smile he tries to give Jason is shaky. Jason doesn’t know what his face looks like. He’s not surprised when Dick’s hands brush tears from the undersides of his eyes.

He doesn’t think he can say anything else. And Dick seems to understand, because he gently turns them both in the direction of the library and walks with him until Jason’s steps are more sure.

When he turns to go in, Jason knows he’s damming himself. Because the glance he risks behind him, not quite turning back, but not not tuning back, is met with a smile he’s never seen before. One that makes his chest seize painfully because it’s full of something Jason can’t believe is still in him. That hasn’t been drowned out by the relentless wave that Jason has struggled to keep his head above. The one thing he hadn’t parted with even in his final moments.

Hope.

——

From the looks of it, the kid’s conversation with Cass had gone better than his own with Dick. He looks weary, and still a bit on edge, but he hasn’t been crying, nothings broken, no one’s yelling, and Cass has a small smile that is usually reserved for Steph on her face.

Whatever Cass can read in his own posture doesn’t seem to alter her stance, but the kid looks slightly more alarmed when he meets his eyes.

He taps his leg four times and gets a look of utter disbelief, but the subject is dropped before it’s even picked up.

“What’re you reading?”

“The Brothers Karamazov.”

Huh. Jason’s not sure what to say to that. Not without spoiling more than a book.

“Let me know if it’s any good.”

That gets him a laugh. Small, but there. And yeah, he wouldn’t believe he hadn’t read it either.

Cass looks like she’s said all she wanted to, so he sets up shop, cracks open something at random, and settles in. She briefly squeezes his shoulder, and then is gone.

It’s maybe 20 minutes before Jason hears the pages of a book not in his own hands stop turning.

“Are you sure about the four?”

One meant danger. Two meant stay alert. Three meant “safe enough.”

Four meant safe.

They’ve never used four taps for anyone. If Jason had to hazard a guess, the only person that would come close is Alfred, but he’d hadn’t shared the street code with the Bats back then, so it wouldn’t have meant anything to them.

“Yeah, Dickface wanted a quick chat. I’m not sure when he’ll try and drop by to talk to you, but I’d guess before lunch. Once he settles down a bit.”

“Cass said she’s new to learning English, that she doesn’t have much practice speaking yet. Said she reads posture better than words.”

“She gives the old man a run for his money in combat. Of all of us, she’s the best at hand to hand.”

“You didn’t try and school your posture when you came in.”

“Figured out pretty early on it’s not really worth it. And with multiple people in a room, trying to sort out all the contradictions can give her a headache. She’s never used it against us in a way we didn’t deserve, so I don’t hold it against her.”

“What did Dick want?”

“My fight with B is a bit bigger than I really wanted to concern you with. Dick wanted to talk to me before speaking with you so that I don’t complicate what he has to say to you with what he has to say to me.”

“Can we please figure out quicker whether or not there will be some sort of paradox once I’m sent back? Because I’ve been pretty good at rolling with your vague fucking answers, but I’m reaching my limit for bullshit.”

“Noted. After lunch I’ll try and get in touch with Lantern and see what the full deal is.”

“Do you want to be in here when Dick comes to talk to me?”

“Not about me kid. It’s up to you.”

“You didn’t stick around for Alfred.”

Jason doesn’t have anything to say to that. The kid’s right, it was the only break he was willing to give himself.

“You’ve done alright with him and Cass so far. Do you want me in here when Dick drops by?”

“I don’t know.”

It should surprise him more that this version of himself is giving him such direct answers. But then again, after reorienting, he supposes that out of everyone, Jason really had only trusted himself. He knew the lengths he would go to to protect himself, to stay alive. And if the kid knows he uses guns now, then maybe it really has settled in that nothing has changed except the knowledge of how far he’d really be willing to go.

“God, what is it with all of them and talking?”

Jason laughs a little at the frustration. It’s one he shares.

“One and I’ll get you out. Two and I’ll stay but Dick will leave. Three and we’ll both stay. Four and I’ll leave.”

He gets a brief nod, and then they’re both absorbed in their books for at least an hour.

He notices Dick in the doorway a full 15 seconds before the kid does. Neither startles, but he can see the kid roll his eyes from behind his book.

When he seems to catch himself with what he’s doing. He tenses.

Dick looks different from when he was 18. To Jason he’d seemed like an adult, but it’s obvious to him now that he’s a far cry from the adult he is now. He’s steadier, less volatile. Less teenage angst, more adult grief.

“Hey, Dick.”

There’s a small smile on Dick’s face and Jason tries to tell himself to focus on his book. He doesn’t succeed.

“Hey, Jason. I wanted to come and see you before lunch. It’s going to be pretty hectic and you’ll probably meet most of the new kids. But, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you at 15, and from what Jason tells me of the day you came from, I figured we should talk just between us.”

“I - you’re off world right now. Um, I left a note for B and Alfred but yeah. I kinda ran away. And, I don’t know if it’s different now because Jason said B adopted like a million people, but I did try and call you before I realized you were off world. I left a voice mail and. And maybe we’re not really brothers right now. But, I’m still sorry. I don’t know how I said it in the future, or when you got back, but -“

Jason doesn’t know what his own face is doing. But he can’t look at the kid. All he sees is Dick, who had already cried himself out earlier, get a fresh sheen of tears in his eyes.

It would have been kinder for Jason to shoot him.

The younger Jason risks a glance at Dick and then shoots Jason a look with far more panic in it than he feels equipped to handle. Jason taps three times.

Dick sucks in a long breath, trying to recenter himself under the scrutiny.

“It’s alright, little wing, I know I wasn’t a very good brother when you came to the manor. I couldn’t set aside my problems with Bruce and it wasn’t fair to you. I promise you none of that was your fault, or about you at all. You don’t have to apologize.”

There’s a look on younger Jason’s face that he’s trying and failing to school away. Of all the traits of Bruce he’s been told to have, Dick was the only one of them that ever properly managed that blank and unreadable look. Jason has always been too expressive.

It’s longing and a whole lot of distrust.

“B thinks I killed Garzonas, Dick.”

Dick does take a step forward then. Jason seems to realize that the couch he’s sitting on really is big enough for two, because he scoots over just a bit.

“B says a lot of things he regrets, little wing. I know for a fact that you didn’t kill him, that B’s wrong and it wasn’t fair of him to accuse you of that.”

“You know now maybe, but you’re not really my Dick Grayson.”

Dick takes another step forward and Jason stays perfectly still.

“Maybe not right now, but you’re still my little wing, no matter how old you are.” He shoots a wry glance at Jason. “Or how many of you there are.”

“What did you say before? Eighteen year old you?”

It’s an effort for Dick and Jason not to look at each other. To not give it away.

“By the time I got back planet side, things were different. We never really talked about it much, but I ripped B a new one when I learned what he’d said to you. It’s one of the bigger fights we’ve had actually. But I don’t think that’s really what you mean.”

“I should have told you that it wasn’t your fault. That when I was your age I wanted nothing more than to kill the man who took away my parents. That watching him walk around was an injustice I couldn’t stomach. That B had to physically restrain me and I had lectures about it for weeks before he let me anywhere near the case. I was so angry with him, with Zucco, and a part of me is still the kid that wanted him dead. That not every death is always a sad one, even if we’re not responsible for it. And I’m sorry he made you feel like he didn’t trust you because of it. You are my brother and I love you so much and it wasn’t your fault.”

Dick takes his final step towards the small couch and Jason throws himself at his brother. The brother he always wanted and could never seem to have.

“He just fell Dick, I swear I didn’t push him. And I’m glad he’s dead, he killed her and I just, I can’t believe B didn’t believe me. That he doesn’t trust me. I’m sorry I ran away, I’m sorry he fell. He said I’m not his son.”

Dick was wrapped around the younger Jason who had finally given in to the brother he’d always wanted.

Jason wonders if it would have been that easy if Dick hadn’t been in space. If he’d been able to crash at his apartment and talk this out with him before running off to Ethiopia.

But they hadn’t really been on the best terms anyways back then. Even leaving him a voicemail had felt like pushing the boundary of what Jason was allowed to ask for. At 15 he had only learned to mostly accept Alfred, and sometimes B. Dick was more of a distant idea than a real person, a tangible relationship.

When Jason tuned back into the conversation, eyes were being dried and there was a faint look sent his way. But no taps, so they were in the clear.

*I sometimes write drafts of fics in the notes section of my phone but a lot of them never get finished or are incomplete.

I’m not sure I’ll ever come back to/finish this but people are welcome to add/rewrite or do whatever with this.

[enby-mori]

Jason "The Pit gave me a fully functional transitioned body" Todd VS Bruce "The Pit undid my transition" Wayne

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

Jason Todd, the second Robin

[fortanuvasyama]

It really is like the cherry on top of the shitstorm he's going through rn lol

okay SO there's a series (that i think just technically wrapped up?) called THE JOKER: The Man Who Stopped Laughing. Basic premise of the story is that there are two (2) Jokers who are trying to kill the other; I'll call them Joker A and Joker B. Jason appears intermittently throughout the issues, but the important part right now is Issue #12 (which came out on on the seventh of November, so like six days ago) and which takes place after the end of Gotham War.

Joker B finds Jason, who is still under the effects of the fear-adrenaline thing Bruce did to him.

Joker B wants Jason's help to kill Joker A and seems(?) to be disappointed by the fear-adrenaline thing stopping Jason from doing.... anything, I guess.

So he gasses him. With Joker Gas.

Everyone's interpretations of this will be different, BUT given what Jason does in the rest of the issue (i.e. chase down a train, hijack a jetpack, take control of a blimp, crash that blimp into the train in a desperate suicidal attempt to save Gotham from destruction)

whereas during Gotham War he straight up couldn't even run because of the fear-adrenaline link

(not pictured: me screaming i knew it!!! in despair)

it seems that the Joker gas DOES negate the paralyzing effects of the fear-adrenaline problem (I wouldn't consider it a fix though).

Joker does note that it will wear off fairly quickly.

I'm sort of speculating that Jason now has a constant Joker-smile, but Jason's face being completely in the shadows for the rest of the issue makes me more confident in that theory. PLUS that's how Joker Gas has worked in the past.

(And don't worry, after Jason crashes the blimp into the train and sends the whole fiery mess into the river, Rose fishes Jason out of the water and resuscitates him.)

And we still don't see Jason's face, soooooooo... idk I think my theory holds some water! (pun intended lol)

I hope this helps!

[brucewaynehater101]

Red Hood Time Travel AU: Angst Edition

(TW: blood, gore, death, Jason's Ethiopia scene, Joker [y'all, it's rough])

Through the power of magic fuckery, Jason gets transported back a few weeks before his fifteen year old self goes to Ethiopia. Figuring that he has a little time before the explosion, he decides to fix a few issues early.

He skips his way past Talia's assassin defenses, scoops up a growling and stabby child, and then sashays his way to Gotham.

Not wanting to be interrogated, he leaves the kid on Wayne Manor's doorstep wrapped up in a green bow. The words "Congrats! It's a boy!" are taped to his forehead.

While Bruce is dealing with the new kid, Red Hood forgot to account for the tension between Batman and Robin. Instead of trying to fix their relationship, the appearance of a new kid pushes young Jason out even faster. Red Hood only finds this out after dropping off kid Tim.

Cursing, Jason desperately chases Robin all the way to Ethiopia. He chases him to that damned warehouse.

Seeing the younger version of himself get slammed with a crowbar, watching the scene from a third person's point of view (but still an older Jason's POV), causes the man to freeze. He's watching the worst time of his life being replayed and he can't move. He can't announce his presence to Joker.

After all his training, after the showdown with Batman and the clown, Red Hood can't even step into the light. What if the monster sees him? What if it turns that bloody, dripping metal on the older version of himself?

Who is Jason anymore? Is he still the kid wrapped in chains begging for his dad to save him? Is he the man available to save himself but incapable?

Each grunt of pain, the choked cries, and the slap of flesh breaking they all numbly hit Red Hood's ears. At the same time that he tensely watches Joker's every move, another part of him is barely aware of where he is.

He must make some noise, perhaps a cut off whimper or a scuff of his boot, because manic green eyes flicker away from their prize. Glee lights up lime colored eyes as the Joker's hand twirls the crowbar. Blood droplets fly from the metal as the clown steps towards a trembling man in red armor.

After the first hit, the first drawn-out laugh, Jason loses time. He comes back to himself on the floor next to the child version of himself. The teen hasn't noticed that Red Hood is responsive again. This allows the man the ability to watch realization and then resignation settle on the kid's shoulder. They both know that the timer and their injuries will not allow them to escape. They're going to die thousands of miles from home, from their dad.

Through the twinge in his arm, Red Hood reaches his hands to the young bird. He frees him from the chains so that his finally moments aren't as trapped. Two broken hands hold each other as they both stare up at steel beams. Twin breaths sluggishly cough out, and the timer beeps ever closer to zero.

Any second now, Jason will die. At least this time he isn't alone.

[nobrain-onlysteven]

No thoughts just Interlude IV based on Under the Hood mixed with Arkham Knight with Red Hood vs Batman and the dead kid they’re talking about is Jason, and throughout the song, Bruce slowly realizes that Red Hood actually is Jason, although not the same one he once knew.

Red Hood to Batman about the old Jason:

[indulgentdaydream]

Comparisons Pt.2

Jason Todd x Jealous!Insecure!Fem!Reader || Angst/Fluff || Word Count: 2,730

Part 1

Warnings: insecurities (reader). Bad self esteem (reader). Criticizing oneself in the mirror (reader). Black eye (jason)

Have at ‘er guys.

The first thing you did once you got back into your apartment was throw your bag on the floor. The next thing you did was slump back against the door and slowly slid your way down until you were sitting on the ground, knees to your chest, head tucked into your folded arms.

Your eyes had been burning the entire walk back. Your throat was tight and especially your lungs from how fast you had power-walked.

Now that you were out of the public eye, you let the tears finally fall after trying so hard to hold them back.

Thank the crime for Gotham’s low rent. You didn’t think you’d be able to make it to your bedroom to hide your oncoming sobs if you had been living with roommates.

You were exhausted. You felt entirely stupid, too. As if you weren’t enough for Jason. Artemis had everything. Everything you didn’t and more.

You were beginning to think he had settled for you.

You knew he could pull attractive women. Could pull damn gorgeous women. He was entirely handsome himself, even though he never saw it.

Nearly every time you two were out he would have people coming up to him. Flirting with him. Asking for his number. Even when you were right there, his arm around your shoulders or your waist. Or if he was alone because you had gone to the bathroom. That was when they came out of the woodworks the most. It’s like even they could tell you were subpar for him.

The thing is: Jason would never even look at them. No matter how long they stood there. Usually, when he had ignored them for long enough and was getting annoyed, he would pull you into a deep kiss. He wouldn’t stop until he was sure they had left.

You couldn’t even explain why you felt like this. Jason had done nothing to prove that he didn’t love you.

But if Artemis, someone Jason had very possibly loved before you, was still in his life… what chance did you have at being allowed to stay?

Another sob left your throat. You were never in Jason’s league. Why ever pretend? Especially for this long?

You had overstayed your welcome.

Your phone buzzed in your bag. A call coming through. You sniffled, as you pulled it out of your tote.

Jason’s profile was displayed across the screen. A picture you had taken of him when you had dragged him out to the park a few months ago. You were both smiling at the camera as you took a picture. You had thought he looked so handsome in it. A soft smile, kind eyes looking a little off from the camera, the sun basking him in a sweet early spring glow. You had never liked the way you looked in that photo. When you made it his contact, you had cropped yourself out.

You frowned as your phone kept ringing. You didn’t want to deal with him right now. You set the phone on the ground in front of you, face up, letting it go to voicemail.

Your phone went black again. You started feeling a little guilty. Then, seconds later, it rang again.

You didn’t pick up. Even despite the guilt that began to chew at your stomach lining.

That call only rang four times before ending again.

A minute. Then a text message.

Jason: Just tell me whether or not you made it home, baby. Please?

You stared at it for a moment.

Another text.

Jason: I’m coming by soon either way. We’re talking about this.

You frown. He sounded mad.

Your head pounded lightly. A headache from how hard you’d been crying.

Maybe he was coming here to break up with you.

You’d obviously been delusional the past few weeks. Jason was using a case as an excuse to distant himself from you. To get familiar with Artemis again.

That had to be it.

Another text.

Jason: I know you’re seeing these, love.

Screw him. Screw him and his perfect grammar. And his stupid pet names.

You picked up your phone, opening the messages. You send back a simple “Home.” Before closing your phone again, placing it on the ground.

Jason: Thank you. See you soon.

Tears burned at your eyes again, but you swallowed them back.

You pushed yourself off the floor. No point in letting him see you, huddled in a heap of despair, still in your food splattered work clothes. Making your way to your bedroom, you began to change out of your work clothes. You automatically reached for the grey t shirt hanging off the post at the end of the bed, but hesitated. You stared at it. The far too big for you, men’s t shirt that was worn around the collar and smelled so much like Jason.

Your hand hovered over it before you stepped away.

He’d probably be wanting it back after this.

You stepped towards your dresser, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.

You hate it.

You can’t even see yourself as yourself anymore.

You stand there, picking yourself apart bit by bit. Rifling. Dissecting. Looking to find something good, something likeable, until you’ve tossed every part into the “discard” bin of your mind.

You can’t even do anything about it. All your tears are gone. You simply hang your head as you step into your sweatpants and slip on your t shirt.

You crawl onto your bed, not bothering to climb under the covers. Not bothering to shower.

The sun was still shining in, reminding you of how you were wasting such a beautiful day.

Your mind was working against you. Coming up with reasons for why Jason would be with you. Why he would have done everything that he had ever done with you if he didn’t love you.

The most prominent reason was that he was just taking pity on you. He had the time on his hands to do a favour for the lonely, ugly girl because he had broken up with his gorgeous amazonian warrior girlfriend. He couldn’t be giving out favours anymore now that he had her back.

You laid there on your side, arms hugging yourself. You realized you weren’t out of tears. They continued slip out of your eyes and pool to the pillow below you. The occasional sob leaving you when your mind concocted something else outrageous.

You don’t know how long you laid there for.

In the silence of your apartment, you could hear the lock of your front door click before the door swung open.

You tensed, arms hugging yourself as you laid on your side, back to the door.

You heard Jason slip off his boots, the steel toes he always wore clattering against the floor, signalling his arrival.

Padded footsteps followed, moving down the short hallway. Then the creak of your bedroom door behind you that had already been ajar.

Jason’s voice was soft as he called your name, “You’re not asleep, are ya?”

You simply glanced back at him over your shoulder, twisting. He took up the whole frame. He was dressed the same as earlier. Dark blue jeans, dark grey shirt with a faded brewery logo on it, and his leather jacket that he hadn’t bothered to take off at the door. His sunglasses were gone, showing off the fresh black eye that you hadn’t seen. He held a bouquet of wildflowers in one hand.

Who brings flowers to someone when they’re about to leave them?

You laid your head back down without another word.

More footsteps. The bed dipped behind you, Jason’s weight settling on the mattress, sitting in the crook where your knees bent.

A beat passed before he sighed, “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, doll?”

His hand reaches down to brush away the hair that was covering your face. The second his fingers brush over your cheek, you flinched back.

Jason draws his hand back, “Talk to me. I know how your mind gets, baby. What happened today?”

You stared straight ahead of you, towards the window Jason would often use to enter your apartment in the middle of night, the sunlight shining through. “Are you going to break up with me?”

Jason’s answer was quick. Honest. “No. Never.”

You should’ve felt more relaxed, but you didn’t. You just felt more stupid, “Did you love her?”

Jason paused, “Artemis?”

You nod.

Jason shifted on the bed, bringing more of his weight onto it before answering, “I thought I did. When I was with her. But… no.” Another pause. “You taught me what love was.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid. You knew Jason loved you.

You felt horrible. began to cry again, your voice cracking.

You just… you just needed to make sure, “Are you only with me because— because you pity me?”

“What?” Jason’s hands were suddenly on your shoulders, turning you onto your back. His fingers brushed your hair back and cupped your face. “Of course not!” You met his gaze for a moment through a haze of unshed tears. You’d never seen him more worried. More concerned. More… heartbroken at your words.

His eyes drift to the wet patches on your pillow, then back to your face. He takes in your red eyes and red nose. “Baby… have you been crying over this? Thinking I was going to leave you?”

You look away from him without answering. A silent “yes”.

Jason sighs lightly, “Because of Artemis?” His thumbs begin to stroke your cheeks, “She was just giving me some papers for a shipment. She owed me a favour from a long time ago.”

“How long were you with her?”

“Eight months,” he said, though there was a flit of a questioning tone at the end of it. He corrected himself, “Nine.”

“Why have you never talked about her?” You see him frown, his eyes shutting for a moment. You feel your face burn from embarrassment at all your questions.

Jason takes a breath, “That relationship… wasn’t a good one. It was my second real one, ever.” He shrugs, “It was built off of shared trauma, I guess. Once the Outlaws disbanded we didn’t really have much of a reason to stick around one another.” He pauses. “Now that I think about it, I don’t think I’d even consider it a real relationship. More of a fling.”

There’s a beat. You still don’t look at him.

“You know I love you,” he says. You bite deep into the inside of your cheek. “You know I love you… right?” His words sound so distraught at the idea of him making you feel unloved.

A small breath left your lungs. “I know.” Tears spill over as you talk, your arms still wrapped around yourself, hands squeezing the flesh of your biceps, “But that could’ve been an easy hand over. Five minutes.” You tried taking a deep breath, “Why… why make time to go and have coffee with your ex when you can’t even make time for me?”

Jason cursed quietly under his breath. Your face crumpled, but you tried for keep it together. “She wanted to.” Jason said. “Trust me. I didn’t. But I need that information.” He shuffled more onto the bed, hovering over you. “You have no idea how happy I was when I saw you walking past. You were like some angel coming from heaven. I’m serious.”

The moment replayed in your mind. Your bottom lip wobbled uncontrollably as you remembered his consistent frown every time he had looked at you.

“Then why—“ your voice hitched with a small sob. “You only smiled at her. You just started nitpicking me the second she left. Started when— when she was still there.”

Jason sighed again, his eyes shutting, “I know. I was acting like an asshole. I know. I’m sorry.” He leaned his face closer to yours, thumbs swipes away your tears. “I just get so worried about you sometimes.” He leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours.

You sniffle again, “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Jason mumbled against your forehead before leaning back. “I’m sorry, baby. I was already ticked off that I was wasting time with her.”

You squirmed lightly, still hugging yourself, “I’m still sorry. I know you love me. I do trust you. I just—“

Jason shook his head, “No. Don’t be sorry. I shouldn’t have had coffee with her. I should’ve been picking you up from work.” He moved his hands to gentle grasp onto your hands, “Come on. Sit up for me, yeah?”

You followed his instructions, sitting up, crossing your legs in front of you. Jason grabbed a tissue from your bedside table, handing it to you to blow your nose. You felt like asking whether the case he was working was real or not. You decided against it, realizing his black eye should be proof enough.

Jason brushed your hair back as you blew your nose, clearing your face. “Why did you think I’m with you because I pity you, love?”

You look away, shameful, “Because… because you’re the first guy to ever ask me out.” You shrug lightly, “And… and no one else was wanting to. And I just…” You sniffle again. Jason takes your old tissue and hands you a new one, his other hand on your knee, his thumb stroking the side of it gently. “I saw how pretty she is and—”

“Not as pretty as you,” he gave you a soft smile, lifting your chin up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cut you off.”

You gave no reaction.

Jason paused, “…do you not think you’re pretty?”

You try and turn your face away again, shrugging, “I’m just so far out of your league. She’s not.”

“Damn right you’re out of my league,” Jason laughed softly, grasping onto your shoulders as they fell in defeat.

Finally. You thought. He realizes. This is it. This is—

He took one hand and tilted your chin until you were looking at him again. “Love, you’re leagues above me. You hear me? I’m serious. I’m so lucky to have someone as sweet and caring as you.”

You begin to shake your head. Jason firmly yet painlessly pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, stopping you. He begins to nod your head. Up and down. Forcing you to agree with him.

He presses his thumb into your bottom lip. He pulls it down and back up over and over again, mimicking speech as if you were some puppet. He pitched up his voice and octave, “Yes, Jason! I’m the most gorgeous girl you’ve ever seen!”

You can’t help it. A smile tugs at your lips. You pull his hand away and hold it with both of your own as you place a kiss to it.

Jason grins, tilting his face down to yours, “There she is. There’s my girl.”

You shake your head at him, “I’m sorry for thinking you were going to leave me for her…”

Jason smiles softly, “No more apologies. I know how your mind is.” He tilts his chin up and pressed another kiss to your forehead. “Evil mind.” He mutters against it, making you giggle.

You hum lightly, leaning into his touch. “What happened to your eye?”

Jason scoffed lightly, “Some thug last night. My helmet was already broken. He got a good right hook in.”

You smile up at him. You sit up straighter, pressing a feather light kiss to the edge of the bruising.

Jason hums in satisfaction, “Thank you, baby.” He smiles again, looking back at you. “What do you want to do now? You’ve got me until nine.”

You perks up, “Nine? But it's already four! Don't you have to read those papers? Don’t you have to—“

Jason smiled and shook his head, cutting you off, "Already did. I just have to intercept that shipment tonight and then you'll have me all day tomorrow, too. I’ve got nothing else but time to spend with my girl.”

Your smile grows a little wider, "Really?"

Jason nods, "I promise."

You play with his fingers as you think it over. Rubbing a thumb over his knuckles, picking up each digit and curling them and straightening them again, "Can we go for a ride?"

Jason grins, "Course, love. Where's your helmet?"

AHHH!! Hope you guys enjoyed!!!!

[patchiko]

Sorry 🌻 again 🪦

Wait! You’re requests are open I thought they were closed haha 😂

Soooo like 👉👈 IF… IF it would be possible … to praise AK Jason until he’s cryin 👀 and holding one another in the afterglow 🫣

(Also would he cuddle after sex. My first thought was that maybe he wouldn’t at first cause he’s overstimulated but the fact that he would let reader get close enough to have sex has me saying otherwise 🤔 ANYWAY thxxx ❤️ )

yes. yes 🌻 anon. yes.

MID WRITING THIS. NEW REVALUATION THAT JASON TODD LOVES BEING EDGED!! I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL!!

Post writing this, this is for all my people who want to see big ass men turning into a puddle while gettin’ fucked. i don’t completely know what this sentence means but its up for interpretation

Ak!Jason Todd & Crying During Sex (+aftercare)

(detailed smut, m!crying during sex, m receiving, edging, teasing, praise, praise, and more praise, m!overstimulation, cumming in hole, aftercare, FINE HE’S KINDA SUBBY HERE. )

OK POST WRITING THIS IS VERY SELF INDULGENT. i love my wife ak!jason todd.

Jasons back is against the bed his strong arms propping his upper body up to watch you. He’s glazed with sweat, eyes blown out watching you slip your hand up and down the shaft of his cock while you suck the tip of his cock; Jasons hips tense, he turns his head to the side and bites his bottom lip harshly drowning out his own moans. A rush of warm pleasure rippled down from his abdomen to his dick, letting out slurred strings of curses while he harshly grips your bed sheets. Before he could cum you stop and pull away, his head drops back at the sudden cold sensation of air around his hot throbbing cock. He’s huffing out deep breaths,”Fuck,, fuck.. do that…do that again.” His voice cracked while he spoke, messily wiping sweat from his face.

You two had been going at this for around thirty minutes every edge leaving him more of a sloppy mess then the last.

“You sure?” You asked, making sure that you weren’t overwhelming him, though still teasing at him by letting your warm breath skim his dick.

“Mhm… please.” Jason looked back down at you “One more time..” his ragged voice trailed off into soft breaths, still coming down from the last high. Your lips started pecking back around his thighs, trailing back up to his dick. You made your way up to one of his veins, slowly parting your lips to lap at it, winning a few sharp breaths out of him before trailing back to his tip. You enveloped him in your mouth and slowly sucked him off again. Out of the corner of your eye you could see his jaw drop and felt his dick twitch ,”Wait, wait, wait.” He frantically stopped you before he could cum. “Oh shit.. oh… fuck.” He quietly cursed to himself his hushed moans managing to slip past his lips.

Focusing your gaze on his blissed out state. “You okay pretty boy?” You cooed to him, Jasons gaze darted to you. you could’ve sworn his skin flush harder then it already was.

“Mmh— Yeah, just.. give me a second.” He croaked out, still trying to maintain his breathing. Mind wandering lost in his blurred pleasure. “Can you ride me?” He asked, his sharp blue eyes hazily pouring into yours.

“Are you sure? It could be a bit much-“

“-Yes.” He replied quickly, his pride bit away him, ushering out that response.

You nod and positioned your body above him, looking down at him to make sure he nodded. You sink down to his hard length and, letting out soft gasps at the feeling of his thick pulsating dick. Jasons hands shot to grip your hips and he shuddered as your warmth enveloped him. He started letting out choked out sounds and rapid breaths, his body slipped back onto your bed. “Is it too much Jason?” He quickly shook his head ‘No.’ His breathing barely slowed. You splayed your hands against his chest leaning in to kiss at his neck, purring in his ear ”Doin’ so good Jason. Love you so much.” He could’ve came from that alone.

“Start.” He choked out, a few more moments of your silky hole and praise could’ve made him cum on its own but he wanted more.

“Are you—“

“—Yes…Please. ” His eyes shot to you, full of lust and a smidge of greed he begged. He wanted more of you.

You cupped his cheek in your hand and kissed his face softly in acknowledgment. You put both your hands on his chest and started bouncing yourself on him pacing yourself faster overtime, your lewd sounds were quiet compared to the strangled pornish moans he let out. “Thats it, been workin’ so hard Jay.” you murmured to him. Cursing with each sensation of your wet skin slapping into his and the sweet praise throughout it, overwhelming feeling of pleasure shot to his dick, he just couldn’t last long like this. “Mh- ohfuck,, oh god,, fuck—“ His skin started to prickle, Jasons body tensed and his jaw slowly dropped into that pretty O shape while threw his head back and sobbed. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, his body trembled underneath you with every thick pulse of cum that came from his cock, stiffly managing to buck his hips up into your warm hole. Tears prickled from his eyes as you rocked against him through his orgasm, streaming down across his red cheeks. You praised him throughout it, ‘Just like that Jason, tell me if you want me to stop.’ ‘Look so good.’ He couldn’t stop himself from moaning and leaving nail marks on your hips in his fucked out state.

You slowed down your hips, almost stopping before Jason rolled his head back toward you, ”Keep going, faster,, again,, mmh.. mhh..” His mind was foggy, his speech was slurred and his voice was treble. “-Tell you when to stop. I’ll— oh fuck...” He was already overstimulated, not wanting to cause him pain you slowly picked up your pace until stopping at something that had him most comfortable. He continued to watch you bounce on him, letting out choked out moans and sobs. You leaned back down and started kissing him while wiping away his tears, continuing your murmurs of praise. He pressed his hand to the back of your hand while you made out with him. Pulling away to get air, ”Such a good boy.” slipped from your lips. He sloppily murmured ‘I love you’s’ against your lips. Jasons grip on your hips tightened he rolled his head back again. Definitely not lasting as long as last time, Jason started sharply panting, incoherently babbling and whining underneath you. Only acknowledgeable thing leaving his lips being, “Dont stop—M’ cumming, m’ cumming.” His body jerked and he arched his pelvis into you, Jason spilled a second load into you. He sobbed out in pleasure for the last time before his body limply sunk back into your mattress. Sweat and tears beading down his face, eyes shut tightly, whimpers leaving his chapped lips, he was such a pretty sight.

“All done?” You said, tenderly raking his hair from his face. All he could do was nod. You pulled off his dick with a moan exchanged between you two, and pecked at his lips. Wiping away the slick line of drool from his mouth before he could. He wraps his arms around you, tilting your face so he can kiss your forehead. You shuffle into a more comfortable position and start playing with his raven locs of hair.

Basking in the afterglow of it, his mind was blank, he took in the sensation of your soft skin against his and matches his breathing to yours.

“Think a pizza place is open?” You ask quietly,” It’s Gotham, there’s always a fast-food place open.” He snickered, pecking a kiss to your nose.

This is just one of those nights where he is reminded of how much he wants to live in your arms. Where for just a few moments he could forget about everything, where the sensation of you becomes the only thing that really fills his mind. The kind of night where he’d love to see you fuck up an entire box of pizza by yourself. The kind of night where trusts himself with you more then anything.

M’ SORRY THIS GOT SO SELF INDULGENT.

I NEED TO MAKE VIRGIN!AK JAY HAVE THE BEST NUT OF HIS LIFE AND BECOME A WHINING MESS WHILE HES BEGGING FOR MORE.

ITS A NEED.

[im-gonna-sing-the-doom-song-blog]

Dating Jason Todd

Just some thoughts…

1. Protective Instincts: Jason is fiercely protective, sometimes overly so. He often worries about your safety, given his own traumatic past and the dangerous life he leads as Red Hood. This means you'll often find him shadowing you or setting up precautionary measures to ensure you're safe.

2. Intellectual Conversations: Despite his rough exterior, Jason is well-read and enjoys deep conversations about literature, philosophy, and current events. He loves debating ideas with you, especially when you challenge his views.

3. Acts of Service: Jason shows his love through actions rather than words. Whether it’s fixing things around your home, cooking a surprise dinner, or taking care of things you're stressed about, he’s always looking for ways to make your life easier and show he cares.

4.Emotional Vulnerability: It takes time for Jason to open up about his past and his feelings. When he does, it’s a significant sign of trust and love. He appreciates your patience and understanding, and he values the emotional support you provide.

5. Adventure Together: Jason loves taking you on thrilling escapades, from motorcycle rides through Gotham at night to impromptu trips out of the city. He enjoys sharing the adrenaline rush with you and creating exciting memories.

6. Physical Affection: While not always verbally expressive, Jason is physically affectionate. He often holds your hand, hugs you from behind, or brushes his fingers against your cheek. His touch is reassuring and protective.

7. Shared Silence: Sometimes, Jason just needs quiet moments with you. Whether you're reading side by side or sitting together in comfortable silence, he cherishes these peaceful interludes as much as the more intense moments.

8. Supportive Partner: Jason is incredibly supportive of your goals and dreams. He pushes you to pursue your passions and stands by you through challenges, always offering encouragement and practical help when needed.

9. Sense of Humor: Despite his brooding demeanor, Jason has a sharp wit and enjoys making you laugh. His humor often has a dark, sarcastic edge, but it lightens the mood and strengthens your bond.

10. Protective Gear: Knowing the risks he faces, Jason sometimes insists on teaching you self-defense or provides you with gadgets to ensure your safety. He wants you to be able to protect yourself if he's not around.

11. Shared Burdens: Jason sometimes struggles with his sense of guilt and responsibility. You help him by sharing his burdens, reminding him that he’s not alone and that it’s okay to rely on others for support.

12. Memorable Gifts: Jason is thoughtful with his gifts, often choosing ones with deep personal significance or practical utility. Whether it’s a rare book you mentioned once or a custom piece of equipment, his gifts reflect how much he listens and cares.

[jaysgirlx]

Airport Au!Jason gets coffee spilled on him right before he boards his flight back to Gotham and of course, he's the victim of hot coffee spilling all over his crotch. The good news is, Jason didn't suffer any burns and you were quite apologetic to him, nevertheless, he was still pissed at you and those clumsy hands of yours. To make matters worse, the two of you are seated next to each other on a 15-hour flight.

Airport Au!Jason lets you have the inside seat even though you ruined his favorite Wonder Woman t-shirt and kinda fucked up his black jeans. He even puts your suitcase away for you and he has no fucking clue why. Jason knew he didn't help strangers like this, not just be nice and flirty to girls like Dick did. But didn't do things like this for no reason especially not for pretty girls who- wait did he just call you pretty? Oh, he was so fucked.

Airport Au!Jason can't tell if he's mad at you or if he wants you. To him those feelings could be the same, he has no problem with wanting to make out with the girl who spilled coffee on his shirt. He didn't see a problem with wanting to make you his, it was an accident and you apologized a million times so maybe he should just forgive you, especially since you actually tried to clean his crotch. His self-control stopped him from letting you, but now he wishes he had let you.

Airport Au!Jason gets immediately bored after the plane takes off, he hadn't pack much because he likes to travel light. When his gaze falls in your direction, he notices that you are reading and annotating one of his favorite Sylvia Plath books and quickly starts to chat you up. You immediately light up when you find out he loves reading, especially classics and poetry. The two of you quickly got acquainted and introduced yourselves which was quickly followed by an apology. You didn't think boys who were smart and hot truly existed, you thought those were myths but Jason Todd was indeed very real.

Airport Au!Jason lets you nap on his shoulder and even orders your lunch for you so that you'd at least get some food when you woke up. You wake up to the boy thumbing through your annotations. You point out your favorite scenes and quotes and go into detail about what you thought their meanings were, well at least to you. You rambled for what might've been a good hour and fuck, Jason knew just by hearing you talk like this, he wanted to put his lips on yours so bad. Maybe shut you up for a second, not because you rambled but because your lips looked so delicious like he could devour them if he wanted. Maybe it could last more than a second, but that depended on what you'd let him do to you.

Airport Au!Jason can't help but want your attention sooo bad. He's chatting you up, making you laugh and for fucks sake why was your laugh so cute?? Why were so pretty to him? Why did you make him question every part of his being? It was like you were this missing piece he had finally found and he needed that piece. He needed you.

Airport Au!Jason jokingly warns you he's not good for you but that only makes you tilt your head with a big grin. You told him that you didn't want a "good" guy. You wanted someone morally grey, someone who understands that just because you've done bad things doesn't mean you're a bad person. You of course cleared up that you didn't support racists, homophobes, and such but you weren't past dating a criminal or even a vigilante if they matched your vibe. For a moment, Jason felt like you already accepted who he was, that you would still want to know him as the Red Hood. He hoped that maybe that was the truth.

Airport Au!Jason sneaks you into first class, pulling the "Bruce Wayne is my dad" card with the flight attendants, who swoon when Jason brings out the stolen Amex card. He'd give it back to Bruce another day or maybe just sneak it back into his wallet. The reason he gets you in so you can sleep comfortably because he knew there would be free seats (he's done this a bit too many times). You told him you didn't need to, that you liked napping on his shoulder, that he was enough but he said you deserved the luxury treat, not crappy shoulder. And it made you laugh because it was so cheesy, and Jason wished then and there, that he could hear you laugh like that for the rest of his life. Now, did he hate having to pull the "Bruce Wayne" card? Yes. Did he regret it? Hell no. Would he do it again? Yes…

Airport Au!Jason lets you play with his hair and even touch his neck scar while you lay in first class. You graze your finger across it and you feel him tense until he relaxes when your fingers lace with his. He lets you believe the white parts are dyed and tells you the scar was from a kidnapping incident that happened in his teens. You don't question him on it but instead, ask him if he still wants to know once the two of you land in Gotham. He looks at you with a cheesy grin. He says he doesn't have his phone on him but you could write your number on his arm. You knew he was joking but he was just so attractive. He enjoys the feeling of one of your hands combing his locks and the other intertwined with his.

Airport Au!Jason falls asleep with you in first class and when you two finally wake up, you decide to check how much time is left on the flight: 2 hours. A soft whine left your lips, from the thought of having to wait a a little longer to be able to kiss him. You could just tell Jason wasn't a fan of pda and if you did kiss him you'd definitely want it to be private. You told yourself to be patient and you knew you could be just a little longer, just for him. Jason on the other hand was an impatient asshole who ached for you, especially after hearing that goddamn whine. Were you trying to tease him? Because if you were it was definitely working. Jason couldn't wait 2 hours.

Airport Au!Jason brings you into the first bathroom and locks it behind him, even after receiving about of weird looks. He kisses you in with your legs almost instantly hooked around his waist and his arms holding you up against the wall. Your arms are wrapped around his neck bringing him as close as possible, while you clawed at his clothes. You weren't exactly sure where this was going but you wanted that coffee-stained shirt off him. You hooked your fingers on the ends of his shirt whining desperately to feel him. Maybe those clumsy hands of yours were good at something. And when he finally breaks the kiss, he only mutters out these words just for you, "Wanna help me get out the shirt you ruined, sweetheart?"

[devilstruly]

Hey so how do you think Jason Todd and Dick grayson would deal with their love who’s a ray of sunshine (not hyper. More like has an innocence about them where they’re just experiencing life for the first time. They just get happy over the little things in life: Like their dress has pockets or they see a stray cat or dog down an alley and they’ve left their boyfriend side to say hi to it and give it some food they somehow always have hiding in their clothes. Even tight fitted dressed).. and living a pretty good life s/o finding out the men’s secret identity and the men are like “are you sure you’re ok with this?” Or Jason’s like “I got a lot of baggage”. And s/o’s very calm and not their usual ray of sunshine self “ This is a lot better than other stuff I’ve been through in the past. I’m good with it”. Or to Jason “what? You think you’re the only one with baggage?” The men didn’t know this, but s/o grew up in the roughest part of gotham in a poor family? So they’ve seen a lot of bad things and bad things have happened to them? They’re ok with their bf doing vigilante work cuz if vigilantes were around more often back then, bad stuff that happened to s/o probably wouldn’t of happened. Also let him know that, “if you get injured, you can always come to me to help you”?

hi omg !! thanks sm for the ask <3 now i've never written the sunshine trope myself but i'll try my best here

i think when it comes to dick grayson he would go about revealing his identity very carefully and very thoughtfully, lest he scares you off. mans has probably been stressing about it for weeks. but when he finally drops the bomb and you're just there, all nonchalant, he's utterly confused. nightwing.exe has stopped working.

'w-what do you mean okay? that's it?!'

'i've seen worse. you're good.'

'WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?'

cue a lot of questions. you're in for a long night.

now with jason todd it happens as an accident. he was planning to tell you who he was. obviously. at some point of course. not now, while he's sneaking back into his apartment after patrol to find you sitting on his couch watching a movie. his first issue is why you aren't fazed by fucking Red Hood sneaking into your boyfriend's apartment. he's kinda concerned if he's being honest.

'uh- okay, might as well get this over with.' he sighs, taking his helmet off and bracing himself for you to either yell or just get up and leave.

but you don't, instead your eyes rake over his form, noticing the deep cut on his side.

'that needs stitches.'

redhood.exe has stopped working. 'wh- huh?!?'

'sit down, i'll be right back.' you get up from the couch and gesture for him to take your place while you go grab the first-aid kit you know he keeps in the bathroom.

while you're stitching him up and he's still trying to grasp what the actual fuck is going on he uses the opportunity to distract himself from the pain by talking. you talk a little about your background but it's mainly just him trying to make sure you know how fucked up he is and that he's bad for you and a killer, yada yada yada.

'you've told me all of that before, jay. i'm not going anywhere.'

his heart swells, but he refuses to cry in this state so he deflects like usual.

'how the fuck do you know how to stitch a wound?'

[troloxyn]

Self Control. (Jason Todd x Reader)

TW- Smut, drinking!!

One night at a party, you and Jason hook up, and now you're both too afraid to speak to one another. That is until he decides to help you with homework two weeks later, breaking the silence.

Listen, I haven't been able to do any school work because my mind decided it HAD to finish this first. so i hope yall enjoy! Deadass over five thousand words, I think my brain melted a little bit writing this.

Word count: 5,366

--

Having aspirations outside of vigilantism was ideal, as long as you could keep up with the pressure. Piles of overdue assignments, paperwork, case studies and unread emails clawed at her from inside of her computer. You should have something outside of your nightlife escapades- it was encouraged, expected. Keeping up with the workload was just second nature. Which right now, she could not. If she gave into the pressure of her inability to focus, she would have dropped out of her bachelors classes two semesters ago. However, the eating force of fear of failure won her over. Not only was she not one to accept failure, her entire ride to college was free- on behalf of the Wayne estate- and she definitely couldn’t disappoint him of all people. 

This one was destroying her. A case study in her criminal psychology class. If the world hadn’t moved digitally, her entire desk would be littered with notes. She avoided this project on purpose- and now that she came to face it, she realized perhaps waiting until a week before it was due was giving herself too much credit. She whisked through photos, police reports, fake-autopsies, psychologist interviews- the pages were on a never ending loop. She was tearing her hair out by the time she made it to the end of the information portion, her wrist becoming sore from endless clicking. Time to focus. Lock the fuck in, girl, she tried to tell herself. 

“How’s the six figure amount of debt going?” 

She jumped out the sound of his voice, turning in her chair to face him. Standing in the door frame, leaned against the wooden, cherry kissed wall of the library with his arms crossed. Of course, he looked incredible. She could tell he just got back from the gym, his sleeveless black shirt over his toned frame and a pair of gray sweatpants she wouldn’t let him walk out of the house in if they were a couple. His face gleamed as if he was sweating, his hair pushed back in a mess. She didn’t do a double take because she knew she’d lose some form of her composure. 

The other reason she couldn’t focus. 

“Great, considering I'm not paying for it.” She scooted closer to her computer, as if it could pull her away from his magnetizing grip on her. She could feel his eyes behind her in the grazing of an awkward, heavy silence. 

“So, what are you working on?” 

One could say the two had gotten closer within the past couple of months. Before, he practically ignored her. As they got closer, their main interactions were chastising her over being late to school. Scolding her, as if Bruce didn’t do it enough. It was never condescending- when she slept in for classes, Jason would be pounding on her door or dragging her out of bed. 

The pressure caused by him came to a halt, though, after a drunken night of intimacy. Now she was definitely waking up late for school. She’d gotten sort of used to him forcing her out of bed.  It was an accident, she thinks to herself over and over every time her body recalled his touch. That’s what was really bothering her. The two would meet eyes around others and he wouldn’t tease her the way he usually did- something lingered behind his gaze and it bothered her- the way their eyes would meet when everyone got together. The way she’d catch him looking over at her from across the room- even before that night, but more often now. Neither of them spoke about it, she didn’t think they really had the guts to. Besides him initiating a few conversations, they haven’t talked at all. It happened rather quickly between them. He had her in the bathroom on the sink, tearing off her dress and squeezing her exposed breasts, his thick and strong legs pressed between her thighs so intimately. Bites all over her neck- bites that certainly bruised her collarbone and shoulders, uncaring for her sleeveless dress as long as it came off. A party on the outside, people babbling in conversation and music blaring louder than Bruce would have liked. Dick had poured heavy drinks that night. In those moments, nothing else mattered. It was between Jason and her, the clothes he was tearing off of her and all the frustrations he’d ignored. His free hand around the back of her neck, forcing her into a sloppy, messy, kiss- her lathered moans of excitement and the friction of his jeans to her thin panties. Quieting her with his lips, drenching her entire face with kisses. rubbing her swollen clit, unzipping his jeans- slipping her panties to the side, pushing himself in. Her gasping, parted lips and wide eyes- “Shush, baby- fuck- They’re gonna hear us-“

“A case study,” she replied, snapping out of her memories into reality. She could feel his presence behind her chair, feeling a hand come onto its back rest, gently making contact with her incidentally. She cleared her throat. “It’s a research project and a case study. It’s very long. I decided to ignore it for.. a while.” 

He hummed. “Shouldn’t be too hard. We’re used to this kind of stuff anyway.” 

“It’s not that,” she replied, scooting away from his touch. “It’s uh- Just can’t focus.” 

“That’s no excuse.” She rolled her eyes at his comment. She tried not to look at him too much- His ungloved, veined hands that trailed up to his tight arms. His fingers tapped one by one on her desk. He towered over her, he was so huge- “You need help?” 

“Help? No way,” she replied. She could smell whatever cologne he was wearing and she remembered it vividly from that night. She cleared her throat awkwardly, laughing a little at his suggestion in sheer intimidation of his looming  presence. “No. I wouldn’t want to bother you with this.”

He shrugged. Finding an excuse to at least be around her since it all happened. “I ‘ont got shit else to do. Plus, might be fun. You got other homework?” 

She cried, shrinking into her arms. “Fighting with you guys and being a college student- I don’t know which is gonna kill me first.” 

He was silent for a little bit and it ate at her. She was anticipating a sly remark, a comment about needing to get her life together, pull yourself up by the bootstraps, not an invasive silence- 

“You should be proud. It’s not easy.” 

His comment almost left her crippled. 

“Huh?” She looked back at him, giving him a look. He immediately froze up, frowning at her, flustered by her reaction. “Dammit- I try to be nice for once- I’m saying you’re doing a good job. I certainly couldn’t give a fuck enough to do what you do.” She smiled a bit and turned back to her screen. 

“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He smacked his lips and leaned in closer to read the text on her screen, shaking his head. “Don’t be weird. I won’t do it again.” 

Except, that wasn’t the nicest thing he’d said to her. Maybe while sober, but that night in the bathroom through the suffocated echoes of laughter and music, he practically fawned over her. Spilling words of affection, calling her a goddess, treating every part of her body with an intense passion she didn’t expect he held for her. She’d never expected him to be like this, thrusting himself into her and gripping her ass tightly, mouth pressed against one another and still looking for oxygen through painted moans. Kissing every area of exposed skin he could breathe near, worshiping her body like it was a drying resource. “God, you’re so fucking hot,” he moaned, pulling back while fucking her into the sink to get a look at her taking him. His thumb brushed her clit with enough force to form a knot in her stomach.  “J-jason-” He cut her off moans with more kisses, never stopping his rhythm.  “Better be quiet, baby,” he said through her lips. “You want this whole house to know what I’m doing to you?” Her moans were muffled by her whining, biting her lips closed as he looked into her eyes. “You want everyone to know how good I’m fucking you?” She nodded her head yes, barely able to manage the words out of her desperate mouth and he chuckled. “Oh yeah?” His voice made the knot in her stomach tighten like a balled fist. He could see it in her face and feel it inside of her, each word he spoke and every thrust she was being knocked over the edge. “Keep up them pretty moans then, baby, everyone’s gonna know who’s making you feel this good-” Her moans peaked and through his drunken state he wondered if anyone really heard them in here. He couldn’t care less, being knuckle deep into the girl he’d had dreams about for months and constantly stealing looks when he thought she didn’t notice. “You gonna cum for me, baby? That’s it, keep going, I won’t stop until you do.”

She wondered how he could act so cordial now. 

She didn’t forget any moment of that night. How they took shots together from a nearly failed mission, how they argued over comics, how they fought or threw their jackets at each other. How during their fake fight, he picked her up by her legs, slamming her into the couch. How easily he moved her around, how huge he was in comparison. How his arms felt on her body. How she swore she could totally beat his ass and how they had to fight- she just wanted him to put his hands on her for some reason, badly. How he had opened up to her in such a way she hadn’t seen before. How she noticed that night how incredibly handsome his smile was, or how his eyes gleamed in an almost squint when he laughed. How Dick had teased him for fighting with her. How when the party got louder and they kept talking and stumbling into each other, giggling and pushing each other into walls. Or how she’d pulled him into the bathroom and almost immediately were kissing, pressing into each other’s bodies like they’d been together for years. How the next day they couldn’t even look at each other. 

“Why don’t you start by organizing your sources? I can help with the interviews,” he said, snapping her out of her day dream. “You’re really gonna help me?” “Don’t think you could do it without me,” he smiled, something she didn’t catch him doing often. 

After a solid thirty minutes of reading, she realized she was going in circles. Each part of the overlapping case study was drowned out by the wretched banter of her memories. It felt impossible to not steal glances at him. Ever so often she would feel eyes on her and she would let him stare- moments at a time felt like minutes, they traded glances awkwardly.  She watched him as he intensely scrolled on the spare laptop, taking physical notes in one of her journals. His fist propping up his head as he wrote, eyebrows knitted in concentration. Recently, she started to notice how handsome he was. How the intensity of his personality took over his dark features in contrast to that pretty smile he gave when he was drinking the other night. He looked up at her, catching her stare red handed and she smiled. “How’s it coming?” She asked. She felt flustered and nervous, unable to diminish the little smiles that came to her face as she took glances at him. He closed the notebook and stretched his hands into the air, lifting his black shirt to reveal some of his stomach. “I should be asking you that,” he said in a yawn. “What’s the matter? Still can’t focus?” He asked. She shook her head no. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she muttered with an awkward laugh, turning back to her computer. She knew exactly what was wrong with her- and so did he. 

“Lemme’ see,” He said, sliding past her to her computer. Now they were dangerously close- his arm going underneath hers to reach her keyboard, their hands brushing against one another so he could move the mouse. They stayed like this for a few minutes, slowly getting closer to one another, his broad shoulders near her face. Gently, she placed her temple against his shoulder, scooting closer to him. She noticed him stop typing, the silence in the room drowned out by her laptop’s fans thudding every now and then. Snapping his concentration once more and putting him more on edge than he thought she could, “Do you wanna sit?” She asked. “We can sit together,” she was being bold.

 For ignoring his existence for almost two weeks, she had an awful lot of forced confidence. That whiplash scarred him, made his stomach turn, assuming he heard her incorrectly. He thought maybe he came off too strong that night, in the bathroom- perhaps it was the way he talked to her while he fucked her. Maybe it threw her off, perhaps he said too much. He was a passionate man and she had gotten a hold of him at the height of his yearning. She wanted to be close to him again- even if not in the same way, to be engulfed by his arms might be enough to help her focus. He agreed with great hesitation, feeling flustered and unlike himself. It wasn’t often when he felt put on edge, and everything about her was making something in him tick. Her soft touches, whatever perfume or shampoo she used, her quiet hums while she tried to work. He almost resented her for making him feel so self conscious. 

Watching her sit down into his lap, biting down on his tongue. For two weeks, ever since that night, he’d been trying to suppress the feelings that got worse with time. Confusion, anxiety, yearning for her all over again. He had a whiplash that he couldn’t lick to heal like other wounds. Approaching her was incredibly difficult, especially since she’d disappear whenever he came around. Months of dreaming about her in those positions were taken to reality and he savored every moment of licking up her body and taking her over and over again- but when he had felt that coldness from her, he wished he hadn’t even been there that night. He would have rather suffered in silence longer than for her to not talk to him. The night of the party was an accident, sure, but not a bad one- just not one he would’ve expected. Not one he knew how to confront properly. How could he be around her and act like nothing happened that night, when he had to cover her mouth to not let veracious moans leak out of the bathroom? Neither of them expected it to get to that point. He didn’t know where it came from. He had a certain amount of self control, self control that was tested- self control that failed with every racking thrust he slammed into her. He thought about it almost every minute of every day, slamming inside of her and grabbing her hair, the way she moaned and sighed in appreciation- the way his name rolled off her tongue like an orgasm building up in his body-

He had to stop thinking about it. He could feel an erection press his sweats and he huffed, moving her away from his crotch with ease. What was he doing here anyway? He wanted to talk to her- he’s wanted to since it happened- but it was too much to confront. Everytime he even got near her he could sense her discomfort. Dick asked him about her several times after that night. “Everybody knew you guys were flirting. You were body slamming her into the couch and twirling her around, and then you guys disappeared for an hour-” He was nervous, maybe even scared of her emotions, not knowing if she resented him for that night. But the way she was leaning back for comfortability against his chest, and the way she held onto his free arm so innocently, he sincerely doubted it now. With an arm wrapped around her waist, she moved back to the center of his lap. 

Maybe they would just never bring it up, he thought. Maybe they’ll just keep moving forward and with disdain or limerence for one another. He didn’t wanna do this every couple of weeks without talking to her in between, or having to pretend a part of him wasn’t deeply infatuated by her. He felt her shift and he could’ve let out a whimper- he had a feeling she knew what he was doing and it was torturing him. A hand fell to her thigh. He traced it a bit, as if it were casual- he was beginning to get light headed. She wore a skirt and thigh highs, so he played with the elasticity of her socks, snapping them onto her skin gently. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, his heart pounding like it was his first time. From over her shoulder, He looked at her thighs. He remembered that night, spreading them apart and pounding her. He buried his face into her neck, his member twitching from the memory, her smell, her ass pressing and shifting on him. He knew she could feel it and now he wanted to ask her all of those questions he had asked that same night while he had her on the sink.

 His hands slid down her thigh, squeezing them firmly, lightly parting them over his knees. She hummed. It was rather meak and it made him nervous with excitement. “Hmm?” He asked. “You’re distracting me,” she told him. Not like she didn’t enjoy it. 

“Excuses,” he mumbled into her neck. “What you need to do is focus.” He said, traveling further up her body. Bold, very bold. She could feel tightness in her stomach and her face flush with heat. “I’m trying,” she stuttered out as he explored more coverage of her thigh. His fingers traced her flesh, drawing closer and closer to her skirt. “Good,” he huffed. “Keep going.” His voice was more gentle than it usually was, slower and muffled into her shoulder. He watched as she organized her work, skipping through her case file and summarizing the prompt questions. His hands met her panties and her entire body tensed, he watched as she began to mistype on her keyboard and fumble with commands. Through the cloth of her panties, he felt damp fabric as he slid down her slit, coming back up and making full circles around her clit with his other hand squeezing her thigh. He held her thighs open with his own, fully spread out, only covered by the cloth of her skirt. She whined, hummed, mumbled his name, shifted against his stiff erection. “Why’d you stop typing?” He asked, his fingers in locomotion. She whined through closed lips, thighs twitching and tensing against his own. “Jason- It feels good-” “You’re gonna get in trouble if you don’t finish that work, girl.” He taunted her, quick but heavy moans escaping her lips. “Keep goin’,” he demanded. She did as she was told, trying to write sentences through a building orgasm. He could feel it from the way her thighs tensed and how her back arched that she was close. He wanted to give it to her so badly it made him ache, make her cum over and over again- he didn’t know if it was right, if they could be friends after this. He didn’t know if he could watch her act like he didn’t do these things to her after it was over. Was this worth whatever relationship they had left? Even as he contemplated it, his hands couldn’t stop roaming. He couldn’t fake it- he couldn’t act like he didn’t want her and he wouldn’t, either. He watched as she struggled to type and flip through files on her computer. “Good job, baby. You’re being sucha’ good girl.” He kissed her ears as she let out a soft moan, slipping his free hand up her loose fitted shirt, going under her bra. “Jason- I’m-” “Keep saying it, say my name again,” the friction of their clothes were making him raw with desperation, bucking his hips up as she melted onto him. He felt her tense up, longer than before, letting out a sigh of his name, gripping the sides of the chair and the mouse. He continued to touch the fabric covering her swollen clit, letting her ride out her orgasm as he kissed her face. The way she moaned and moved around in his lap could make anyone fall in love, he thought. That was dangerous. She was pressed completely into his back, humming his name, touching his face with her soft hands. He brought his fingers back to that sweet spot, making her finish even faster the second time. He could feel the dampness on her thighs, sweating onto his pants and he hadn’t even fingered her. 

He stood up, holding her by her waist as he did so, bending her back over the keyboard. “Keep working, baby. Don’t mind me, okay?” He kissed the sides of her face while he was pressed against her back. She heard his sweatpants shift as she worked his boxers. She tried to look back but he grabbed her face, pushing it down into the screen. “Work,” he ordered, more intensely this time. With her bent over her keyboard, her lifted skirt exposed her thin panties, working them halfway down her thighs. He removed his member from his boxers, precum staining his clothes and dripping from the tip. “What are you working on now, baby?” He asked. His voice made knots in her stomach as she tried to flip through pages and explain what she was doing. Her mouth parted to speak but was interrupted as his erection poked through her thighs, rubbing against her leaking mess. He had a strong grip on her ass, moving her hips back and forth on his cock, watching the gleam from her soaked cunt make noises. He moved slowly and with ease, her thighs were soaked from his teasing. “T- I’m- I’m working- Trying to-” He gave her ass a firm slap. “Speak up,” he groaned. His cock ached with every sliding motion, he could probably cum himself but he held back, satiating every movement. “The introduction- to my- my um..,” she panted. He laughed as she scrambled through her moans. “Please, Jason?” He hummed in appreciation. He kept working his dick back and forth against her slit, pushing himself faster each time from pure bliss. Now he was a moaning mess, low groans he tried to silence as he fucked her thighs. “Keep working,” he huffed. “You still have so much to do. You’ve been waking up late every day for classes, and you expect me to let you get away with that?” He watched as she cried, trying to type and retain information. Her brain, too distracted by his aching cock pleasing himself between her. She wanted to protest, to blame him for not waking her up like she’d gotten used to. So spoiled of her. Firmly she squeezed her thighs, earning a moan from his parted lips, stroking her hair with his free hand and tightly gripping it. With a quick gasp, he pulled her face back, kissing her gently. “I missed you,” he mumbled into her mouth. She almost didn’t hear him but she spoke through his moaning kisses when it registered. “I missed you so much, Jason,” he was now squeezing her breasts and rocking against her hips, steady moans he didn’t care to suppress anymore. “I thought about you everyday,” he admitted. “I thought about you in every single way.” He moaned, bending to kiss the back of her shoulders, trailing down her neck to the sensitivity of her spine. His words earned a yearning cry from her, and the part that wasn’t enjoying every engulfing moan of hers felt a slight dread about their future. As he kissed her shoulders, he wondered if she would come back to him after this. If they would be able to be normal like how it was before. Her back arched from the sweetness of his lips as he ran his hands underneath her clothes. Great, he thought. Go ahead and say a bunch of sweet shit to the girl you won’t talk to for the next month.

Pulling out his soaked member from her thighs, with ease, he pushed himself into her. Honest, drawn moans escaped their lips, saliva trailing from their lips as they departed. He grabbed her hips, forcing her down into the keyboard once more, taking in every part of her soaked cunt and moaning her name. She shifted, struggled against his hips, his length believably long for a man of his stature- something she was not used to. “C’mon, baby. Take it for me, like before,” He cooed, keeping his hand firm on her back as he fucked her, louder, sloppier moans of pain and pleasure from him poking parts of her that had only been reached by him. He was so different when they had sex, she had realized. So sweet and affectionate, intensely passionate and loving. Meekly she reached her hand to his hip, stopping his motion momentarily- he chuckled, grabbing ahold of the hand and holding it to her back. “What’s wrong? Can’t take it?” He asked through thrusts that made her unable to form words.  “Jason- feels so good, it’s so much,” she stuttered out, rocking her hips slowly. He grabbed her other arm, holding her back like a pair of handcuffs as his breathing hitched.

 “Oh yeah?” He asked. “You want me to keep going?” He said, slowing his thrusts. Her hips rocked promptly against his throbbing member, “please, please don’t stop,” she mumbled, her face now down into the coldness of the Wayne manor’s library desk. “No problem, sweetheart,” he spoke with confidence, picking up his speed, giving her no time to adjust. Fucking her almost senselessly, her moans now cries as his mercy ran thin. He couldn’t help it, he couldn’t slow down, mindlessly knocking over her book bag and other school supplies as he broke into her. His pace was rapid and without any consideration of how she was going to sit down for the next few days. Slamming a hand down onto the table for added pressure while still restraining her, “-Tell me how much you enjoy this,” he panted, watching her struggle against him as her ass bounced against him every time he plunged into her. Her words were melted ice cream, scrambled word vomit, he fucked her so hard she could barely manage to spit anything but the word Jason out, which she mumbled with each thrust- and it drove him over the edge. “Tell me how much you missed this feeling, tell me how much you missed me,” he spat, grabbing her hair and forcing her face up. He looked at her with sincere need- not just a sexual one. “I missed you, I missed you, I missed you Jason,” she confessed through stutters. It made him smile, a sweet, almost drunken smile as he laughed through huffs of pleasure. “So good for me,” he said through kisses. Her stomach fluttered from a softness she’d only seen once before in him. 

He picked up her leg, throwing it on the table to make sure he fucked her thoroughly enough to get his point across. With her arms now free, she grabbed onto the table for dear life, biting her tongue from letting out a scream she knew someone would hear from above the floorboards. They didn’t need Alfred coming in to check on if someone was getting murdered down here. Holding one leg up as he pounded into her, his breathing racking from every thrust that brought him closer to satisfaction, he grabbed a fistfull of her hair. “You’re gonna talk to me tomorrow, right?” The question threw her off guard, her moaning dimming as she tried to piece the words together. The grip on her hair tightened and she winced. “You’re not gonna ignore me after I fucked you this good?” He asked, getting closer to her ear, making sure he heard her right. “Because,” he panted as his hips bucked further into her, the grip on her elevated leg almost bruising. “I’m gonna fuck you like this every chance that I get.” The words edged her, he felt her body tensing, aching for release as he picked up his pace. “You don’t have a choice- me ‘nd you- we’re gonna do this a lot more.” He felt her cumming, squeezing around him, her back arching as he muttered filth into her ear, indescribable moans and thank you’s. “Don’t thank me yet,” he told her. “You’re not getting rid of me, girl. Try to ignore me again. You won’t forget how much I made you cum. You won’t forget how good I fucked you.” Her face felt hot and so did her entire body, more of a promise than a threat and she was fine with that. “I won’t forget,” she repeated as he kissed the lobe of her ear.  His chest now pressed against her back with a hand around her throat, “You’re mine. You’re all mine. You’re not going anywhere. I’ll see you tomorrow, and the day after that- everyday,” She felt herself cumming again as he beat into every corner of her walls, nodding profusely. “I’m all yours, Jay,” she whimpered. “Thank you- thank you-” She forced, her entire body squirming under pleasure. 

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Where do you want me to cum?” He asked. “Inside of me, please,” desperate and filled with need. “You want me to fill you up, princess?” She nodded, begging. “Look at me,” he demanded, forcing her face to his, eyes interlocking. “-Need to see that pretty face when I cum-” It was less of a demand and more of his own whimpering pleading. His hips bucked one last time into her, her mouth open for a kiss as she watched him finish, a range of emotion hitting his face as he tightened the grip on her leg, stroking her face with his free palm. It was incredibly hot, she thought, watching his face while he came.

 He pulled out with a sharp gasp. He bent over, kissing her exposed ass before pulling up her panties and fixing her skirt, fixing his own clothes afterwards. He grabbed a hold of her, sitting back down into the chair, stroking her hair and giving her small pecks on her face. With a sigh of content, he kissed her temple. “Alright, baby. Can you focus now for me?”

Meanwhile, upstairs. 

“Alfred,” Dick interrupted as Alfred tried for the door. “Why don’t you ever hangout with me anymore?” Alfred raised his eyebrow at the young man he practically raised in front of him. “Master Dick, whatever do you mean? Is our spare time spent with one another inefficient?” “Yes, right now it is,” Dick said with crossed arms. “We could be hanging out, right now.” “Sounds lovely. I just need to check the library-” “So, you don’t like me anymore?” Dick huffed, covering his face. “Can’t we go make cookies? Please?” Alfred sighed. “Master Dick, is there something wrong?’ “Yes, Alfred, there actually is.” Alfred raised his brow once again. “But if you bake with me right now, there won’t be. And I will be much happier.” “Is there something going on downstairs you don’t want me to know about?” Alfred asked with a concerned look. Maybe he didn’t want to know. “I think we should make sugar cookies this time,” Dick said with a grin, placing his hand on Alfred’s shoulder and leading him away from a now closed door.

[blackbirdsblackberries]

I Hate The New Hero!

Pt 5: What?!

Finally getting home from your patrol you sneak through the window of your bedroom and collapse onto your bed. After the call you decided that your patrol was done.

Frankly you're still coming to terms with the fact that Batman and his protogese are the same people who are essentially praying on your civilian self's downfall yet adoring your vigilante persona like it's the greatest thing in the world.

Though, now that you really think about it, it makes sense. Bruce Wayne is the richest man alive, he'd be able to afford to do this, they have the same amount of members as the heroes, same builds and heights, actually... Basically everything matches up.

Not to mention the fact that your senses goes off around both group members!

From outside your small room door you hear your parents arguing again - more like your mother yelling and your dad breaking things and stomping his foot. It was probably your dad's fault again. Don't get you wrong, you love your family! It's just that they're dysfunctional.

Your dad has a massive drinking problem that landed him working as a goon for Black Mask, he's struggled with his temper for years after he got hit a bit too hard in the head by Batman. Pair that with the fact that he's mute and he's a force to be reckoned with.

Your mom is always busy and rarely ever home, when she is she couldn't be bothered to interact with you unless you got into trouble. She grew up rich, often talking about how she went to the same school as Bruce Wayne and how she was a popular cheerleader before her life fell apart. She doesn't talk much on the topic but it's clear she holds distain for your father and, by extension, you.

You sigh to yourself, you need to shower. That means you need to get past them without them bringing you into it. Or you just don't shower for the night and have one tomorrow...

Your mom screams something out about not throwing knives and you decide to just shower tomorrow morning.

You change out of your costume and hide it safely under a loose floorboard, you change into your pajamas and get into bed. Today was a massive mental drain and physical drain.

...

You awake to a knock at the front door. Your parents usually ignore it and make you answer when someone knocks because "you're dispensable" as they say. Looking at the clock on the wall of the kitchen you see it's around 7am.

Groggily making your way to the door you look through the peep hole and see Tim standing awkwardly on the other side with a guy next to him, the guy next to him being so big and tall that you could only see a small part of his chest and arm.

You curse to yourself quietly, this is by far the worst luck you've ever had.

You open the door and look at the two. Now seeing the other guy the thing that stands out is a stripe of white hair on his head. Instantly you know it's Jason Todd.

You aren't an idiot. He's the only one in the family built like how he is - not including Bruce.

"What do you want?" You ask, annoyed. Tim chuckles weakly, as if nervous. "Wayne Enterprises wishes to give your mother her letter of departure." You blink once, then twice. "Huh? Letter of departure? The fuck does that mean?" You mutter, genuinely confused.

Jason scoffs, "it means your dear mother is losing her job, kid." He states uncaring of how blunt he's being. Tim elbows him and hisses something about being more considerate.

You don't listen, all noise becoming white noise. Why is she being fired? She works hard, she dedicates her time, she does her best! Is this because you have beef with Tim? That's not fair!

She's the only stable source of income, without that job you all would be living on the streets. You've heard AND seen so many horror stories about teens living on the streets, it's something you'd pray never happened to you. But now it's entirely probable.

So, in a moment of desperation you grip Tim by his shoulders "Please! You can't fire her! We'll end up homeless! She works all the time, she tries! My mother will improve if you ask, she needs this job. The whole family does!"

Tim seems shocked by this, his posture stiffening. Jason looks on guard, as if assessing whether he should step in, though he doesn't seem fond of the idea. You wouldn't doubt that he was made to accompany Tim as a body guard.

Tim opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again. Clearly he wasn't expecting you to beg for your mother to keep her job.

"Uh... Look, I don't mean any harm by it, it's just that we need to make way for brighter minds..." He stumbles slightly over his words as if making the excuse up on the spot.

You won't back down however. "Tim, please, I desperately need you to realize this. I. Will. Die. On. The. Streets." Probably not true because of your mutation but the fear remains. "Please, I'll do anything for you to not do this! I already promised Bruce to stop talking bad about Aranea!" You please desperately.

Tim glances to Jason who quirks a brow and shrugs. The sound of movement from behind you makes your eyes widen and behind you you see your dad approaching, you were probably too loud.

He glares at you before yanking your hair so you move away from Tim and remove your clutches on him. You hiss in pain at the feeling but bow your head down.

Your dad eyes the two boys before looking to the paper in Tim's hands. He instantly knows what's going on and storms down the hallways of the complex to do who-knows what. That scares you. Your dad is unpredictable.

After some silence Tim speaks up. "Are you okay? Your dad pulled your hair pretty tightly..." You look down, ashamed. You couldn't even bother putting your walls up and defending your pride. Your life is basically falling apart at the seams.

"... I'll do anything for you to not fire my mother..." You mutter meekly, a far cry from how you usually act, something Tim notices immediately. He sighs to himself, he debates the odds. Maybe if he doesn't fire (Reader)'s mother then they can be even. The feud can end, it was pointless on your part to begin with for hating someone so sweet and kind, then hating him who defends the innocent.

"Fine. Your mother can stay, but, it may not be permanent. I suggest she find elsewhere in the mean time." Tim states before walking off. Jason takes a second to stare at your relived form, the slight smile of disbelief and look of relief in your eyes. He then leaves with Tim.

You close the door to the apartment and sink to the floor. That was terrifying. You'll have find a way of telling your mother the news before she goes into work in two hours.

You're officially having the day off from school and patrol today.

[bunnyscrypt]

“a devouring hunger, a complete, violent passion, like a storm.”

pairing. college au - jason todd x reader

based loosely off the scene from may (2002). disclaimer: this story is based in a separate universe to my upcoming self indulgent college au!jason todd universe.

♱ synopsis: . jason todd is a transfer student. he's tall, he’s big, and he has gorgeous hands. he hangs with the football crowd despite not playing the sport himself, you keep your distance however. he’s infatuated with you though. you find him…. intriguing. 


♱ cw: reader is very gothic and black girl coded but no descriptors (anyone can read), fluff, college!au, smut ♡


you were the one that told jason it was best that you stayed away from each other. you just didn’t trust him, not with the crowd he hung around, but he seemed sweet and sincere - sad eyes that bore in to yours as you turned him down. almost feeling bad until the eyes of his friends watching made you walk up away leaving him looking dejected. oh well.

you’d still sneak glances at him every now and then. admiring the outline of his profile, the hook of his nose. the flex of his arms at the slightest movements. oh and his hands - the thought of them sending your brain in to a tizzy. you’d wonder how they’d feel against your skin.

jason was upfront with his fixation on you. long glances, not caring if he got caught. asking around about you, ignoring all the warnings from his friends about how weird you are. taking any chance to talk to and be near you.

it’s what put him on your radar and made you suspicious, but you will admit he is handsome and he was always so sweet with you. 

better to be safe than sorry though. 

the library smells like cinnamon, wood, marijuana, and hand sanitizer

you sat in a love seat, reading as you listened to the sound of pages turning and pens writing, eyes occasionally darting towards the sleeping boy sitting at the table across the isle. head on his arm as his hand hangs in the air. you try to focus on your book, but again you glance back up at jason’s hand.

it just looks so inviting.

chewing on your bottom lip, contemplating.

your body shakes as you slowly get up, dropping your book on the seat. moving towards him with anxious breath. eyes wide, like a predator hunting its prey.

kneeling besides him, your eyes dart over his large frame, stopping at his hand as you observe it in fascination. your own itching to hold his. one more look at his face- he breathes slowly, soft snores leaving his lips.

inching your head closer to his hand, you lift his fingers with your cheek. oh his skin is so soft. his stillness, gives you the courage to keep going. unaware of the audience that watches you.

eyes fluttering shut as you press your cheek further into his palm- feelings of peace and comfort filling you. his hand cups your cheek. a perfect fit. letting out a sigh of content, you feel his fingers twitch.

pause.

“hello?”

your eyes dart open, he starts to lift his head and you back away. standing up quick, not daring to move any further. jason rubs his eyes with a sniff before seeing you in front of him like a frightened deer.

before he can say anything! you swiftly walk away, almost tripping in the process while jason watches with confused and concerned eyes, following as you leave.

“i told you she was a freak, man.” his friend appears by his side, shoving his phone into his face to show him the footage of your actions.

his head darts back to where you once stood, thumb subconsciously rubbing his now warm palm.

night falls and you're laying in bed — ignoring the movie playing on your laptop as you think about jasons hand. your fingers grazing where his was.

reminiscing on his past interactions with you. the lingering looks and soft touches. kind smiles and rambling words even if you never said anything back and when you did it was in a blunt and flat tone. he just enjoyed your presence.

you come to the realization that you liked it. you liked him. you liked holding his attention and you desire him carnally.

a knock on the door pulls you out of your thoughts — thinking its just your roommate who forgot her key.

jason greets you at the door, donning a band muscle tee that makes his arms look good.

“hey.”

“what are you doing here?”

“can we talk?”

sitting on the edge of your bed side by side— the silence is comfortable. to you that is. jason doesn't know where to start, his brain going a mile a minute trying to figure out where to start but to his surprise you beat him to it.

“you think im weird.”

it wasn't a question and he glances at you to see you're already looking at him. his gaze is a soft one as he looks in to your intense yet curious one.

“no, i know you're weird.” a small smile graces his lips. your eyes flicking down to his hands.

his elbow bumps yours, “but hey, so what i like weird.”

you meet his gaze again, his going from your eyes to your lips.

“i really want to kiss you.” his voice dropped into a whipser.

“is that all you want to do?” your question makes his eyebrows raise, mouth opening a bit.

grabbing his hand, you place kisses along his thumb to his wrist as you place it on your cheek, eyes never leaving his.

thats how jason wound up on his back, staring into your eyes as you rolled your hips. grunts and moans leaving his plump lips.

jason todd was a loud lover.

sloppily sucking on his fingers while he used his free hand to knead and grip at your tits and hip.

"so good. you feel so good around me - im gonna make you all mine." jasons brows furrow, watching the spit trail down your chin and his wrist.

he shudders as you gyrate your hips faster, “r-right after i take you on a real date.”

he moans loudly, bucking his hips up into you. your clit grinding against his happy trail. breathless moans escape past your lips.

"'m yours, jay.” you whimper, your sticky walls throbbing around him.

"oh my god" he groans. reaching behind your neck to pull you down against him to fuck you harder. hips slamming into you with desperation.

you pant like a puppy, biting into his shoulder hard enough to make him hiss. the bed knocking against the headboard as he pummeled against your g-spot.

"m'cumming!”

he keeps the pace as you cum with a load groan- body trembling on top of his as he pulls out to jerk against your ass.

catching your breath, you pick your head up to stare at his face — eyes closed with droplets of sweat on his forehead, licking his lip as he regains his composure. he's so pretty.

you trace your finger over nose to his lips making him open his eyes. “hi gorgeous," a smile tugs at his lips.

"you okay?" his fingers tenderly graze your cheek.

"mhm" you pause as you take in his gestures. the softness in his eyes. "can we go on our real date tomorrow?”

he smirks, letting out a low chuckle. "yeah, that's perfect for me”