#jason todd oneshot
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gojosweet · 3 months ago
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୨ৎ 𝗕𝗢𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗗𝗔 𝗙𝗧. 𝗝𝗔𝗦𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗢𝗗𝗗 ˎˊ˗
Jason Todd claims he is not a romantic man. He always says it with a soft laugh. “I don’t know how you ended up with me, honey, I’m the least romantic man on the planet.” But when he holds you in his arms as if you were the most fragile thing in the world, you think otherwise. When he makes you sit on your shared bed with so much tenderness and your eyelids close from fatigue, you think that maybe you will marry this man. “Don’t fall asleep yet, princess, hold on a little longer,” he says softly, kneeling down beside you to remove your heels and place them by the bed.
He gets up quickly going to the bathroom and bringing your makeup wipes. “Look this way, pretty” he says, observing your sleepy expression. He takes out a wipe and holds your cheek with one hand, wiping your face with the other. “Mmh” you reply, yawning softly and unconsciously closing your eyes. “No, no, no, love, just a few more moments, okay?” he asks you in a tone that drips honey. Maybe you shouldn’t have drank so much or maybe you shouldn’t have stayed until the end of the party at Wayne Manor.
He laughs softly as he finishes removing your makeup. Jason releases your face and automatically your torso falls sideways on the bed with your eyes closed. Jason quickly gets up to bring your pajamas, he places them on the bed and gently lifts your torso, speaking to you in a tender tone “Honey, I have to put your pajamas on” he says, to which you gently shake your head. “Just take off my dress, please” you mumble opening your tired eyes slightly.
Jason nods gently and unbuttons your elegant dress, taking it off at the top. When he turns around to place it on the floor, you have already crawled into your place on the bed, clad only in your panties and bra. Jason laughs softly, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaving a kiss on your cheek. “Goodnight, baby” he says softly, and you're sure Jason Todd is the most romantic man in the world before sleeping with his hand gently tracing your face.
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millyhelp · 9 months ago
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Jason had just woken up. the large arm stretched out so he could pull you by the waist and snuggle you into him. Your side of the bed was empty and cold. Your cell phone wasn't on the nightstand.
Where are you?
Panic broke out in Jason's mind, making the post-sleep haze disappear. You never wake up before him.
Jason stood up with only his black Versace underwear on his body. He went to the bathroom, you weren't there, he went to the office and you weren't there. He always kept weapons hidden around the apartment and this was a time when he picked up a 9mm that was under a corner table in the apartment's hallway.
"Where are you?..." Jason's voice sounded shaky. His hands were tight on the gun in his hands.
He went to the kitchen and walked through the living room, guest room, you were nowhere to be found.
Did she leave me? Could it be that she abandoned me? What did I do wrong?
Jason ran his hands through his hair. No sign of you. Not your purse, not your keys, nothing. For a moment he thought you were just a dream, but no, the nail marks that burned on his back and the hickeys along his chest and abs proved otherwise.
The sound of the door unlocking made him alert at the front door. It opened and there you were. A sigh of relief left Jason's lips. He ran over to you and pulled you towards him.
"Jay-oh, hey..." The bags that were in your hand fell to the floor and you struggled to close the door and hug Jason then. Thick tears that Jason had no idea he was shedding before you arrived wet your shoulder.
"Where-" a sob left Jason's lips "Where were you?"
"I just went to buy things to make you lunch, babe..." You ran your hands welcomingly along Jason's back. He was holding you tight to his body. "You were sleeping so peacefully that I didn't want to wake you up."
her smell. she is here. she didn't leave. I'm not alone. it's her. she is here.
"I'm here now, it's okay." You kissed his neck sweetly and he whimpered. "I'm here..."
"Dont leave me... please..." he whispered
"i won't. im sorry for not waking you up." Jason looked into your eyes. The arms were still around you, you felt cold metal on your back. "What is that?"
Jason remembered he still had the pistol in his hand. He showed you and you looked at him in surprise.
"I thought someone took you from me." The face, red and wet with tears, spoke with melancholy. "I would kill anyone who tried to take you from me."
your heart pounded in your chest. He really thought someone had taken you or that you were gone. You took the bags in your hands. "Come with me. Let's leave this in the kitchen and I'll go back to bed with you, put that gun away, it's not necessary." You said sweetly and kissed Jason's cheek.
Jason nodded. He still had one hand on your waist, he wasn't going to let you go anywhere soon.
you walked to the kitchen and placed the bags on the counter. Jason put the gun next to the things and hugged you from behind while you took the things you bought out of the bag.
his large slender fingers caressed your belly while he watched you attentively and in silence taking things away. Jason's thoughts were lost on you and only you. the way you moved, everything about you gave him peace of mind, his mind wasn't an enemy when you were present.
"a penny for your thoughts." You said with a smile on your lips.
"You."
"Me?" You giggled and felt Jason nod and then felt him rest his chin on your left shoulder.
"Yes." He whispered. "What will you do?"
"a brazilian dish. feijoada is the name." You sigh when you manage to finish taking everything out of the bags.
"hmm." Jason mutters. "can we go to bed now?"
you took Jason's hand and guided him to the bedroom. You only realized that he was only in his underwear when you took off your dress and lay down in just your bra and panties.
You opened your arms to Jason and he buried his face in the middle of your breasts. "Would you kill a kidnapper with just your underwear on?"
"Mhm..." He muttered and you giggled. Jason squeezed your hips, pulling you closer, if that was possible.
"Don't ever do that again..." he said quietly "Never leave again without at least telling me, please..."
"I promise." You kissed Jason's forehead and he buried his face in the valley of your breasts again.
he was finally at peace again and could go back to having a peaceful sleep while in your arms.
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cipheress-to-k-pop · 7 months ago
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bluetooth j.t.
Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader
Warnings: A little suggestive if you squint
Word Count: 1.2k words
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You don't know how you allowed yourself to get manipulated into being a girlboss and moving out of your childhood home to live in your own apartment. While it was nice to have your own privacy and decorate your home however you liked, you realized just how many privileges you lost now that you weren't in the care of your parents.
There was no one there to make sure you woke up on time in the few cases where you slept through your alarm, no one that you could call on your way back from work to ask to switch on the water heater so you could take a steamy shower immediately.
You didn't have your mother's homecooked meals and you didn't have your father to pick you up snacks from the grocery store.
And one of the biggest thorns in your side was the reason you were dreading the entire day. Car maintenance. The auto shop was one of the most daunting places in your life as a girl who knew nothing about cars. Never once had you regretted not learning how to take care of your car or even the procedure required when you eventually take your car down to the auto shop.
But now standing in the hot and dusty garage, you were seriously rethinking your life choices. You should've scheduled these things for when your dad was visiting so you could ask him to take it instead. Or, even better, you should've gotten a boyfriend.
You were complaining in your head, dragging your feet about having to be here in the first place and whined about handing your car keys, with a bunch of adorable keychains attached to some rando.
But when Jason Todd, 6'2 man with biceps that were larger than your own head and a body that looked like he was shaped out of marble by Michelangelo himself walked out with a form for you to fill out, you were all too happy to be there.
Perhaps you'd be leaving here with a boyfriend after all.
"I have to admit, I don't really know much about cars so please don't scam me."
Jason chuckled, a deep, hoarse laugh that made you a little weak in the knees honestly and the boy-crazed fraction of your brain began to imagine how he would sound as soon as he woke up next to you, after a night of—
"A bit of advice, you probably don't want to let scammers know that you have no idea what they're talking about."
You giggled, scolding yourself mentally for finding that funny.
'Come on, (Y/N), pull yourself together it wasn't even that funny. His face is just great delivery.'
"Or I could keep coming here and have you check my car, since you're so trustworthy." You mused, sparing him a teasing smile.
Jason was completely picking up what you were putting down, giving you a coy smile of his own before responding, "Or perhaps this is just a tactic to get you to keep coming back."
You narrowed your eyes playfully, "Devious."
Looking back at his little clipboard, a thin metal rod of some kind tucked behind his ear instead of a pen, Jason asked, "When was the last time you got your car checked out? If your battery and brake pad was replaced recently, we could probably skip that and just do a routine check to make sure everything's running smoothly."
You winced, "I couldn't tell you, honestly. My dad usually handles this kinda stuff for me, I'm still kind of a new lamb when it comes to taking care of my car."
Jason raised his eyes from the clipboard for a second, "Your boyfriend can't do this kinda stuff for you instead?"
"I don't have a boyfriend."
He perked up immediately and you ducked your head to hide your smile, "I'm sure you probably have a record of it in your glovebox or something. Most places keep a little sticker with the date of your last service under the dash. I'll check it out for you, do you have somewhere to be, or do you have a couple minutes so I can make sure?"
You shook your head, shrugging your shoulders with a carefree smile, "It's my day off so I'm free as a bird."
He grinned, "Noted. Just give me a second."
You watched his back receding as he walked toward your car, shoulders looking like they could span the entire ocean and it was only when he was sat in the car and had turned on the engine did you whip out your phone at lightspeed.
"Ohmygosh Julie, I think I just met my future husband. Holy shit. He's so cute—gorgeous actually. He's working on my car right now and God, those arms, wow. And those eyes? God, I feel blessed just by looking at his face." The end of your message was interrupted by another mechanic running the engine.
You waited patiently for the sound of the engine to die before replaying the voice message so you could re-record the part that got cut off. Only you couldn't hear a thing.
Confused, you increased the volume, taking a sip from your coffee to soothe the inhumane squeal that you had let out while sending Julie the voice message. Once again you heard nothing.
You bit your lip at this, swiping down at the corner of your phone at access your control center and realizing the reason you couldn't hear anything was because it was connected to the Bluetooth on your car.
Wait.
THE CAR?!
You whipped around in horror only to find Jason smirking at you from the front seat of your car. If the world were fair, you'd be struck down with lightning right then and there. Or, since you were at an auto shop, a sentient car might run you over.
Alas, you continued to stand there in horror, completely unharmed no matter how badly you wished to be reduced to a puddle on the ground.
You called him your future husband. The ground should've swallowed you then and there. Instead, you just stood there in complete mortification and embarrassment while you stared at his amused expression.
Something startled him out of his gaze for a second and he pointed at your console, making a gesture like he was taking a call. Confused, you glanced at your phone.
'Incoming call: Julie'
Ah, saved by the bell.
*
"How much do I owe you?" You asked, quickly popping open your purse to fish out your credit card. You had stretched out the conversation with Julie as long as possible, begging her not to hang up and only interrupting her tangent when Jason finally came up to you, saying that your car was good to go.
"It's on the house." He gave you a charming grin, leaning an arm against the counter, "Can't have my future wife paying for anything, can I?"
Your cheeks flared red, still holding out your card for him to take, "O-Oh, I couldn't, really."
"If you insist, then you can always repay me with dinner. Today's your day off, right? Think you can pencil me in for 7?"
A shy smile grew on your face, your body so warm you had to resist fanning your burning cheeks, "Sounds like a plan."
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jvsont0dd · 6 months ago
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Jason Todd dies so often that he might as well be a Winchester
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pinkmelodie · 7 months ago
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The Red Means I Love You ❤︎
Summary: Jason Todd x fem!Reader. You and Jason used to date before you left to stay with the Titans. You both miss each other more than you’d like to admit, but stay out of contact. Fast forward to after he died, you encounter Redhood. Old feeling stir, and before you know it you’re bent over the motorcycle of someone you swore you’d leave in the past.
Warnings: Angst -> smut, 18+, p in v, unprotected s$x, mentions of death & terrorism.
A/N: This takes place right after s3ep2, right after they find out Redhood’s identity :3
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You didn’t fully know what was happening; just that there were too many hostages in the building—all who would be killed if not evacuated immediately. You were about to run and help the rest of the titans get everyone as far away as possible before Kory pulled you aside.
You went to protest before she quickly interrupted you, “Go search for Jason.” 
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Uhm, what?”
“Look, I have a feeling he’ll listen to you better than anyone.” she said. “Jasons not someone who can be brought down by force. Shit, he came back from the fucking dead, you think he’s gonna let us beat this new…phase out of him?” 
You wanted to argue, but Kory wasn’t someone who was wrong often. She had a good point, and you knew you had to follow it.
“We’ve got this under control,” she assured, resting a reassuring but firm hand on your shoulder. “Go.”
You were skeptical, especially when you could see Gar in the distance shaking in his boots trying to convince an old lady to let him help her down the steps, and citizens clearly getting whiplash from Connor moving them to safety too fast. Your team was…definitely something, but with some hesitance you finally turned and ran in the direction of the one member you wanted to see.
“Jason!” You called out, your voice echoing through the barren alley. Gotham was creepy enough already without walking in some sketchy, busted up route in the pitch dark.
You kept calling but the only response you got was your own voice echoing back to you. You tried to scratch your mind for something to say that could persuade him, but you came up blank. Guilt ate at your conscience when you remembered that you hadn’t spoken to him for months before he died. 
To be honest, Jason never had anyone in his life to begin with. He told you that along with all his other secrets, and you still broke his heart. 
You stayed with the titans, thinking he was being naive for not wanting to. You didn’t think about the fact they never once tried to help him, or ever see him as more than an immature kid. They didn’t have the energy to help Jason through his issues so they just abandoned ship, sending him right back to Bruce and his horrible coping mechanisms.
As much as you wanted to be angry at Dick, or Kory or really anyone else for letting that happen, you had to face that you played your part.
Jason Todd died alone. He died feeling like no one would miss him, like he was a failure of a Robin and a failure of a titan. Because even after everything, all he wanted to do was prove himself.
So, yeah. Admittedly the first words you chose to say were not a good idea. Probably should’ve seen that one coming, but you never were too good at comforting him. was anyone?
“It didn’t have to be like this, you can still come back to the titans!” You tried to coax him, almost immediately regretting it. You quickly shut your mouth, tho the damage was already done. You just prayed he wasn’t here—he didn’t need to be provoked into blowing your brains out. 
Only when your muscles stopped tensing and you thought you got lucky, a voice you couldn’t even recognize rumbled above you. It shot ice up your veins and you would’ve frozen in place if you weren’t so adiment on seeing him again.
“Still taking about the titans? Why am I surprised.” He taunted, tilting his head in a gesture so familiar it made your heart ache. When you spun around you were met with someone you couldn’t believe was really Jason. He was standing on some rusted fire escape, a steel red mask boring right through you. 
You tensed, but not out of fear. No, you could never be scared of Jason, not the same nerd who woke up early to make you breakfast or who secretly wore reading glasses. 
You debated messaging him for months after your breakup, paragraphs on paragraphs you never sent. You had so much to say to him before, so why now did your mind go blank?
It was hard to see what he was feeling with the mask, but you could tell he was expecting a snarky remark back. When you just stood there dumbfounded, he sighed. “Look, I’m done trying to prove myself to them. To Bruce, to everyone! I don’t have to be some fucking nobody y/n, and neither do you.”
Now that made you snap out of whatever trance you were in. “‘and neither do you’? What are you trying to do, advertise me the life of crime?”
He groaned, “I don’t know why I ever tried with you. The titans are just a bunch of fucked up people acting like one big happy family, is that what you wanted? Are you happy you made that choice?” He sneered.
There was malice in his tone, but it wasn’t real. he didn’t feel angry anymore, just betrayed.
He would’ve splayed his heart out for you on a silver platter if you asked, just for you to turn your back on him. You followed him in his dreams, haunted him every time he smelt a familiar perfume, even appeared behind his shut eyelids while the life drained out of him. You were a part of him, and from what he knew you’d never looked back when you stormed out that day.
That’s why it shocked him when tears started to well in your eyes. God, your eyes—the ones he would subconsciously buy clothes of in the same colour. “You could’ve came with me,” you whispered. 
Your meek tone broke something in him. His shoulders relaxed and in a blink he leaped down, knees bending upon landing on the hard ground in front of you. Seeing him like this; the mask concealing his identity, various weapons strapped to his thighs and seemingly more toned than the last time you saw him—you could understand why everyone was on edge.
He stood there motionless, a silent and intimidating presence before you. You both stood there in unbearable silence until finally, he lifted his mask off.
His features were lit beautifully by the dim street light, eyes glinting ever so slightly. He looked exhausted—more troubled now, but you knew, despite everything, this was Jason. Your Jason, not who he was manipulated into.
“No, I couldn’t have.” he muttered begrudgingly, “they made that very clear.”
“So what, you just become a terrorist? Is that your idea of solving your problems?”
His fists clenched in barely concealed anger. “Bruce couldn’t save Gotham, so he abandoned it. I’ll be the one to fix it.” 
“By running around in a new suit and planting bombs everywhere? Real great strategy.” You rolled your eyes, but started to blush when you stared at him too long in the plated suit that fit him perfectly. You quickly caught yourself ogling and looked away, assuming he wouldn’t catch the red tinge on your face. 
You don’t know how you ever thought he wouldn’t notice. Of course he noticed, it’s Jason Todd.
For fucks sake, the guy noticed every detail about you. The way you’d avoid eye contact when nervous, the pace of your blinking quickening when you were lost in thought, the slight heighten of your voice when you were excited about something. All these tiny things and you thought he just wouldn’t notice the way you eyed him down all red in the face?
Come on, you were basically writing your true feelings out to him in big, bold… ..red letters…
and it’s not like Kory ever specified exactly what to do once you found him… .. .
So that’s how you ended up bent against his motorcycle in some busted up alleyway, pussy spread open on his dick.
You gasped and clawed pointlessly at his covered back; nails clinking uselessly against the metal armour of his suit. 
Your own suit was pulled off just enough to get access to your cunt, panties pulled to the side so he could plunge his thick cock into you.
He was groaning more than he used to, and you could swear you even heard him whine. His pace was ruthless, thrusts messy but coordinated. He kept trying to push further inside you, pressing his body as close to you as possible like you would vanish at any moment. 
“Fuckfuckfuck-“ he rambled. Death heightened all of his senses—made things have so much more of an impact on him. Maybe he just missed you too much, or maybe he let himself forget how good you feel.
To be fair, you were far worse off than him. You would’ve alerted everyone in Gotham if he wasn’t covering your mouth with a gloved hand, though it’s not like anyone here would bat an eye to screaming.
“My poor baby just been lonely, s’that it?”He teased, manhandling you by your hips to meet his harsh thrusts. 
“Nobody to fill up this pretty hole like I do, such a shame,” he pouted in faux sympathy, as if he wasn’t balls deep at the moment.
“I’m back now. Fuck the titans, I’ve always treated you better, haven’t I?” He’s fucking your ability to form coherent words right out of your throat, but he knows your answer when you squeeze around him.
“Jay!” you moaned into his palm. Your cunt was squelching embarrassingly loud with each thrust, thighs shaking so hard you for sure would’ve fallen over if he wasn’t holding you up. Every drag of his cock in you hit the perfect spots, just like he remembered you love.
“You don’t even care that I’m red hood, do you?” he asked, his tone full of confidence. “Nah, you don’t. So fucking wet, does my suit get you off princess?” 
He moved his hand to play with your clit, getting it soaked with your fluids. You were too cock-drunk to lie bite back, just nodding desperately and mewling out something akin to a yes.
He smirked. “Pussys sucking me in the same too, fuck- I missed this. I missed you.”
He acted cocky when he was fucking you like this because it’s the only way he was sure you even wanted to be around him. Not much to complain about when his big dick is ravaging you, no?
Deep down he always felt right at home with you. He wouldn’t admit it, but he would give up red hood for you. He’d give up anything for you, actually. Nothing mattered as long as you were with him. And he wasn’t letting you go this time.
With the ministrations on your clit and him pounding into you, it wasn’t a surprise when that knot in your stomach came undone quickly. Especially not with how many failed orgasms you had with your fingers, pretending it was him.
Ever attentive, he noticed immediately. “You gonna come, baby? Try not to get any on the new suit.” He winked, as if you were gonna squirt for him. (You have, many times.)
The cherry on top was when he unexpectedly flipped his mask back down and leaned in to whisper right into your ear with that deep voice, “come for me”
And you were gone. You came with a cry of his name, eyes rolling back and toes curling. Your pussy gushed all over his dick, forming a white ring around it that you could see every time he slammed his hips.
Seeing your pretty face so euphoric was what sent him over the edge, and grudgingly he pulled out, pearly white cum shooting all over your stomach.
You spent a minute regaining your breath while he pressed gentle kisses all over your throat. He only let up when you whined at the slight pain of the pressure on your newly forming hickeys. He tucked himself back into his pants and re-adjusted his belt. You were wondering if he planned on just leaving until he took his coat off and wrapped it around you.
He moved you so you were set down properly on the back of his motorcycle and then stepped on. You instinctively laid against his back, resting your head on his shoulder and he admired you with pure adoration.
“Wrap your arms around me babe,” he hummed, affectionately rubbing your thigh that was pressed to his.
When your brain finally caught up to what was happening you gave him a confused look.“Wha- wait! Where are we going?” 
He looked at you like you were crazy for even questioning it. “Home,” he laughed, “what? Did you think death was gonna do us part, baby?”
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mellotunekitty · 2 months ago
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Jason Todd x Gn!Reader - Sick Day
Summary: the day you’re supposed to work with Jason, you’re sick. After he hears this, he takes it upon himself to take care of you, going above and beyond what he really needs to.  
Contains: tooth rotting fluff, comfort, reader has a fever
----
You woke up with your head banging, your throat sore, and your nose clogged up. Great. You’re sick. Of course it had to be the same day you were going to meet up with Jason to talk about a closed case you both were thinking about reopening. Groaning in pain, you rolled over to grab your phone and called Jason. 
“Hello?” He picked up. “Jay, I don’t feel good. M’not coming over today,” you said, your words barely audible. But Jason knew you. He knew what you sounded like when you were sick. “I’ll be right there. Don’t move,” he said, hanging up. 
“Wha- Jason… Jason?” You realize he hung up and tossed your phone aside, groaning and laying back down in pain. Your muscles were sore and you just wanted to sleep without tossing and turning because your nose was clogged on one side, then the other, and back to the previous side. It didn’t take long before he broke into your apartment through your window. 
He slid the window up to let himself in, bringing a backpack in with him. “You got the floor all wet,” you whined, noticing how wet his boots were from the rain. He apologized softly and took his boots off, finding a towel to put under them. “Here, I brought you some stuff,” he said, uncharacteristically soft. He pulled out medicine and a box of tea. “Here, let me warm up some tea for you so you can take the medicine,” he said.
Jason returned, tea in hand. The medicine wasn't as bad as you thought. It did take some convincing on his part, but it worked eventually. He didn’t stop at tea and medicine, however. His backpack seemed to be the equivalent to Mary Poppins or Hermione Granger’s bag. Medicine, tea, thermometer, tissues, soups, and more. He had it all set just for you. 
In your sick state, you caught a fragment of him pulling out the thermometer to take your temperature. “Open… under the tongue, sweetheart, there ya go,” he whispered. “Ooh..” Jason hissed, “high fever. I’ll make you some soup. You need liquids and food.” 
“M’not hungry,” you managed to croak. He sighed softly, cupping your cheek. “I know, baby, but you gotta eat something,” he mumbled. “You won’t have to eat all of it. Just what you can.” So, you did. You ate as much soup as you could before blowing your nose like crazy, the medicine seemingly kicking in. 
You didn’t think he could take care of you more, but if there was one thing you knew about Jason, it was that he liked to outdo himself. So when you watched him grab your remote and put on your favorite shows to make you feel better, you weren’t so surprised. “Need anything else? Want anything?” He asked. “No,” you whispered. But you did.
You wanted cuddles. You wanted to be held and coddled. It always felt so nice when you were sick. Obviously, he saw right through you, it was Jason. “You’re lying,” he said gently, “what d’you need?” Your voice came out soft and rough, “...hold me?” 
His eyes softened and he looked down with a smile, nodding slightly. “Okay,” he whispered, walking over to your bed. He laid next to you and carefully scooped you up. Almost like he was treating you like glass. “Get some sleep, baby,” he whispered. “I’ll be here to take care of you when you wake up.” 
It was the happiest you’ve ever been while sick.
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sleepyangelkami · 9 months ago
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PLAY PRETEND j.todd
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 ☆ WORD COUNT - 3.1K
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JASON TODD X FEM!READER
 ☆ SUMMARY - jason needs someone to act as his girlfriend to the gala, which you decide to go along with but jealousy and alcohol get the better of you leading to one too many drunken confessions.
 ☆ WARNINGS - drinking, alcohol, bad descriptions of being drunk, jealousy, angst, pining, manipulation, skinny love, crying, slight panic attack, use of good girl (non-sexual), comfort, petnames, use of y/n, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷
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you stood with your back against the drinks table, sighing through your pouted lips as you glanced around the room, hoping for some type of entertainment to catch your eye. you didn't even wish to be here, in fact, you would have done just about anything to be snuggled up in your bed reading a book right about now.
jason was the reason you were here in the first place and yet, he was nowhere to be seen.
you’d heard of the wayne gala’s a lot before, it wasn’t exactly new to you. you’d been to a couple of them yourself too but there was a reason you didn’t come to them often and one could guess it was because this is how it always ended, you sat up against the drinks table with expensive alcohol swirling in your expensive glass and dressed in your expensive dress. it was so… not you.
you were the type of girl that dragged your friends to junk yards and bought the cheapest clothes that you saw hidden in thrift stores. 
not the type of girl that attended wayne gala’s. 
and yet, here you stood all because you were so helplessly smitten with your all time best friend, jason todd, the son of bruce wayne, the redhood, the gentleman, the many, many things. he’d asked you to go to the wayne gala’s with him before, offering it up yet you always politely declined, stating it wasn’t your scene but this time was simply different.
you’d sat up on your bed, flicking through your magazines while jason rambled on as he began tearing his tie from around his throat. it was late, too late but jason never did care for the time when it came to seeing you.
you swallowed, nodding along and humming. it was just so late and you’d only woken up so your mind was all fuzzy and for some reason you couldn’t stop thinking about how nice some grapes would taste right about now. “are you listening to me?” the question from jason was rhetorical but you’d be lying if you said your undivided attention as on him. “i’m a dead man!” 
“it’s not that big of a deal.” you uttered, closing your magazine and sighing, you really wanted some grapes. “really, you’re only stressing yourself out. you’re an… attractive guy, i’m sure you’ll get a girlfriend between now and the next gala.”
“but thats the thing… i don’t want a girlfriend!” sheesh, your head was too clouded for his yelling. “i shouldn’t have opened my mouth.”
you could only shrug your shoulders, nodding. “true.”
he took a seat on the pink quilts that surrounded your bed, his head falling into his hands and groaning. “you’re not helping.” 
jason had made the idiotic choice of lying to bruce when asked if he had a girlfriend. he was just so tired of him asking and asking and asking so he decided to lie, telling him that he did in fact have a girlfriend and that they’d been together for quite a while now, he’d just been saving the announcement for a more special day.
so what did bruce do? announce it at his next gala, stating that jason would surely be bringing her along for the next.
and jason almost choked on his bourbon. 
he was dressed in his suit from before, his hair all messed and teased while his clothes just looked out of it, his shirt untucked, his jacket discarded on the ground and he had pulled the tie from his neck, unbuttoning the first two or three buttons, he felt like he was going to collapse.
“i’m sorry.” you spoke softly, feeling sympathetic for your ‘best friend’. you turned to him, clad in your pretty pink pijama’s and softening your gaze on him. “how can i help?” 
the way you looked at him should have told him everything. what your gaze should have said was that you were in love with him, you had been since the very first day you’d laid your eyes on him, gaze never leaving and your jaw falling slack. okay, perhaps you hadn’t loved him during your first encounter but there was definitely… something, something that told you this wasn’t just any boy but he was something much much more.
it should have told him a lot of things, should have spilled your feelings right then and there but jason was as oblivious as they come, he hadn’t a notion of what your gaze meant. in fact, he blamed the diluted pupils on the fact that he’d woken you up, banging on your door at all hours of the night. 
“you could help in one way but… nevermind, it’s stupid.” shaking his head and turning away. the master of manipulation.
and you looked almost concerned then, the victim of that very manipulation. “no, what is it? i wanna help.” 
and he knew you did, it’s why he said anything in the first place. sweet old you, always willing to do anything he said, just to please him.
“you could… you know, pretend to be my girlfriend, it would just be for the night, for the gala. you know, to get everyone off my back?” his eyes stared back at you, big and hopeful.
how could you, in your right mind, say no when you were so utterly full of love for the boy. “wha… i don’t even have a dress.” an excuse, a terrible one because something in you was downright shocked. you? of all people? first, you could barely go to that gala as it was let alone pretend to be his girlfriend.
besides, you began to get a little worried. perhaps you’d like the pretend game a little too much. 
“i’ll buy you a dress.” he insisted almost instantly. lord knew he had the money.
but you frowned a little at that. “i’m not a charity case, jay…” sure, your apartment was a little small but it was homely, it was you. though you were sure it didn’t much live up to jasons standards.
“not a charity case, i know.” he came a little closer, pressing his hand against your thigh and rubbing it gently. “i just want you to feel your best for the night, angel, it’s just one night.” 
you bit down on your lip, knowing you’d regret it. “fine.” 
but for jason, you’d face just about any guilt. 
and after his many thank you’s and squishing hugs that had your face smushed against your chest you finally sighed out. “I can’t believe i’m doing this for you.” sending him a playful glare though there was a pit in your stomach.
“please.” he couldn’t help but smirk. “you love me.” 
and you couldn’t possibly tear your eyes away from him. without playfulness or a smile, you spoke the words, “I’d have to be a fool.” before quickly shaking your head and changing the subject. “you have to wear a pink tie to match my dress.” 
he had the audacity to laugh in your face. “I will not.” 
“yes you will.” you folded your arms over your chest. “you will or i’m not going.” 
jason couldn’t help but shake his head with a chuckle. “fine.” 
“fine.” you repeated. “now go get me grapes from the fridge.” 
brat. 
you’d been announced as his girlfriend, he’d held your waist for the entire night, grinned and beamed over at you as his brothers watched sceptically. 
now, you sat alone at a table, downing what felt like your hundredth glass.
you didn’t drink often so you gave yourself a little lean for this time, seeing as you never did it, now was your chance to get absolutely… shitfaced, did damian call it? 
but it wasn’t as if you didn’t have a good reason. 
jason, your best friend, your first and last love, was standing speaking to some blonde girl, she was giggling away, obviously pleased with herself as if she didn’t have a lipgloss smudge on her teeth. and you? you couldn’t have been more ashamed with yourself. 
your head was placed on your arm that was slinked across the white tablecloth, just watching the pair as the alcohol swirled in your cup. you wondered how you went from eating the white grapes to downing the white wine in your hands.
then your eyes glanced back to jason, in his pretty pink tie, and it all made sense. 
he was your best friend, you had no right to be jealous, no reason to be but for some reason you thought by him bringing you here, introducing you as his girlfriend meant something. 
but it was all just play pretend. 
you knew this, you knew it as well as anyone and yet you still couldn’t help but feel so utterly… hurt.
your eyes burned but you weren’t crying, your throat burned but that was only because of the alcohol that didn’t even taste nice.
they should really have grapejuice here, the non-alcoholic kind. 
it was dick grayson who’d laid his hands on your shoulders that adverted your gaze from jason. your pupils were wide, the rims of your eyes red though you weren’t sure if that was due to the alcohol or the fact that you were holding your own tears at bay. 
“hey, y/n, how you feeling?” his tone was soft, understanding. he really was one of your best friends. he was crouched down to your level as you sat in the chair.
you glanced down to the cup in your hands. “think ‘m drunk, dickie.” because suddenly the entire room was spinning. 
“yeah.” he pressed his lips into a thin line. “think maybe you’re done for tonight, huh?” taking the glass from your hands before you could so much as protest.
with heavy eyes and an even heavier heart, you nodded your head. “think ‘m… ‘m gonna go home.” home was where your bed is, they say. but saying you were going home and directing it towards your house didn’t even sound right. home was that curly, raven haired boy with a pretty smile.
“don’t go home.” his eyes glanced towards jason, sighing. “don’t go before you’ve talked to him.” 
dick was one of your best friends. with that being said, he knew everything about you down to where your birthmarks were, that meant he knew all about these hidden feelings for your supposed best friend jason todd, his dear little brother. 
but you could only shake your head. even thinking about jason right now was enough to make you queasy. “no, he’s talkin’ to blondie.” blondie, the pretty girl who you couldn’t even judge if you wanted to. she had a dark black dress on, she was much taller than you, large heels and standing with her shoulders drawn back, obviously much more confident too. 
was she everything that you lacked? 
as if summoning him, you could feel the dark shadow that loomed over you, even with your head pressed against that damned tabelcloth, even that was expensive. 
“is she alright?” 
that voice, that pretty, deep, and almost mysterious voice yet as perplexing as it was, you were sure that you’d recognise that voice amiss any crowd, through any drink that entered your system. jason still roamed your mind, always and when his voice was spoken, you were sure to hear it. 
“she’s drunk.” dick answered for you, as though you weren’t sitting right next to him. “i think you should bring her upstairs, get her cleaned up and put to bed.” dick was doing you a favour in the long run, even if it didn’t feel like it.
but your head had finally risen from the table, big doey eyes staring up at the two large men above you. “n-no i can… i can bring myself home.” your words slurring.
jason couldn’t help but laugh down at you, glossy lips turned into a pout. “yeah, cause i’d let you ride your little bicycle through gotham alone, at this hour of the night, in the state that you’re in.” of course, you were the only one in the entire world that would ride one of those pretty pink bikes with a woven basket in gotham. “come on, let me put you to bed.” 
you don’t remember bidding goodbye to dick but you were sure you had. you didn’t remember moving from the table to the door, practically being pushed by jason. however, you did vaguely remember uttering the words, “you need’a say g’night to blondie.” to which he responded with. “who?” 
that confused you because he genuinely seemed confused, as though he hadn’t even remembered the colour of the hair belonging to the girl he’d just spoken to. had he really been that uninterested or was he just putting on a show?
you did remember, however, sitting on the cold tiles of jason’s bathroom floor after he’d undressed you, stripping you to your undergarments and placing a long tee over you. you remembered the way his hands gently did it, soothing you as he went, uttering soft words and assuring you that it was okay.
in no way did he make anything sexual, instead, he was merely caring for his ‘best friend’. 
you remembered the way the tears began rolling down your cheeks as you dry sobbed pathetically, the drink getting the better of you.
jason had been tending to your face, a cotton pad covered in micellar water gently cleansing your skin, softly dancing it across the makeup that covered your face and wiping it clean. he wasn’t used to taking off makeup, obviously, so this was a little difficult for him. but he got used to it.
it wasn’t the first time he’d done it for you.
only difference was this time he was comforting your cries at the same time. “shh, shh, c’mon, tell me wh’s the matter, baby?” all soft and gentle with you as you couldn’t do anything but let the liquidy tears fall down your face, trying to avoid his gaze. “c’mon, tell jay wh’s wrong so he can fix it.” 
but how were you to tell him that the reason you were crying was because you loved him? 
you couldn’t, so instead you opted for shaking your head, words practically heaving out of you as your breaths became laboured and uneven. 
jason could tell where this was going. 
he’d comforted you on multiple occasions, some worse than others but that didn’t change the fact that he knew you from the inside and out. “hey, hey, breathe, pretty girl, breathe.” 
he’d taken your head in the palm of his hand, gently placing it against his chest so that you could feel the way his own chest rose and fell and hear the way his heart beated against his ribcage. he knew this was a good thing to do when it came to you, this was a reminder that he was alive and by the way you could hear and feel it too, surely, you were alive as well. 
it was grounding. 
“in with me, c’mon, angel.” breathing in and you followed, trying to take as much air into your lungs as you possibly could. “‘n out, good girl.” he praised, hearing the shaky breath that you still let out.
when your breathing had regulated back to normal, there were still tears streaming down your face and you couldn’t help but cry and whimper pathetically. you could blame the alcohol or you could blame the fact that you’d gotten so caught up in play pretend that you’d forgotten yourself, who you were and what you really meant to jason. 
“s-shouldn’t have come.” you muttered through your desperate cries. “shouldn’t have come here.” while the messy tears coated your perfect skin. 
it broke jason’s heart. you were his bubbly girl, always grinning and smiling, laughing at jokes you didn’t understand, grinning at people you didn’t even particularly like, you were nothing but good. you were gold, if the colour was a person, it was you. your heart was as big as a heart could get yet you know what they say, the bigger the person, the harder they fall.
and sometimes your poor golden heart simply couldn’t take the mean world. 
“what?” suddenly, his own heart began to shatter. he suddenly felt as though it was his fault. you were acting like this because you didn’t want to be here, because either something had happened or simply you were too overstimulated due to the gala itself (poor oblivious jason still hadn’t got it right.) whatever the case, he’d been the one to drag you along here and now he felt guilt pang his heart heavily. “no, no everyone loved you, what are you talking about?” 
your teary, broken eyes glanced up at him, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away. 
perhaps it was the too much alcohol that had entered your lightweight system or perhaps it was the way he looked so… dreamy, even through your blurred vision. his pretty sapphire eyes gazed down at you, so full of concern and worry. he cared so deeply about you, you could tell from his eyes. the slope of his nose, his pretty lips drawn into a frown, his sharp jaw line and the little curls of his hair, white streaks at the front on wide display.
“i’m a fool.” you uttered, so pathetically, full of realisation.
once again, his black brows furrowed in confusion yet also so full of concern. he wanted to understand, to help you but you were proving it awfully difficult, not that he blamed you. “what? you’re not a fool, what are you talking about?” 
you sniffled, practically blubbering. “i told you i’d have to be a fool to love you ‘n if that’s true then i’m a fool.” you hadn’t a notion of what possessed your mouth to move, possessed you to speak. “‘m the biggest fool in the world because i love you so much ‘n im scared i’ll never be able to stop loving you.” 
and the biggest problem was that you were sure he’d never feel the same. 
“is that what all of this is about?” he had to stop himself from chuckling at you, otherwise you’d take it the wrong way and the tears would begin again. instead, his eyes softened and his hand came down to move the hair from your face. “you should have just told me, princess, all of this could have been avoided.” 
you stared up at him with those dazed, confused eyes. 
“when i told you i didn’t want a girlfriend.” he confessed. “it wasn’t because i didn’t want one it was because i didn’t want one that’s not you.” you had to blink at him, thinking it was all merely a dream. “i love you too, sweet girl, always have, always will.” 
and you were sure it was a dream. 
“jay?” 
“yeah?” 
“will you tell me this again when i’m sober?” 
a chuckle. 
“of course, angel.” 
“promise?” 
“i promise.” 
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main masterlist/jason's masterlist
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alwaysmoncheri · 9 months ago
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and jason have a complicated relationship, but when you find yourself in a troubling situation, jason just happens to be your emergency contact
𝐜𝐰: female!reader, minimal swearing, sexual assault, cat calling, assault, violence, 1.5k, jason todd x reader
<3
midnights in gotham city smell distinctly of blood. the dark streets are littered with corpses of victims who stain the rubble red. crime is high and murder remains rampant among the homeless people living on the streets. you know walking home alone at this hour alongside the hundreds of criminals that hide in the shadows is a terrible idea. but your shift at the library ran late tonight and you had no other means of transportation, hence the reason why you find yourself alone in a dark alley far from the comfort and safety of your apartment.
the faint footsteps of desperate strangers lurk behind you, the sound echoes through the night, and your skin crawls with anticipation of what’s to follow. nothing good comes from the situation that you’ve found yourself in and that’s what brings you to pull out your phone and tap on the first contact that pops up on your screen.
jason.
your relationship with jason is complicated. like most things in your life you suppose. but jason is the only one who’s almost always by your side. maybe that’s part of what possessed you to click on his name on your phone and bring it up to your ear with trembling fingers.
“hey, sweet—”
“jason, I think i’m being followed.” you breathe out quickly and you don't dare to peek so much as a glance behind you.
“shit. hang on, babe. just—”
jason's voice, laced with urgency, cuts through the tense night as the echo of your footsteps intensifies. the sounds of the desolate alley amplify, creating an eerie symphony of fear and impending danger.
“i’m so scared, jay,” your shaky voice reaches jason, carrying the weight of dread as if it were a tangible thing. in response, jason's voice becomes a soothing anchor, his words a balm to your frayed nerves.
“hey, it’s okay, sweetheart. tell me where you are,” jason's voice, steady and reassuring, breaks through the chaos. your breath catches as you fumble to provide your location, the darkness of the alley making every detail obscure.
“I don’t know, I think in an alley near the corner of 5th and main. I thought it would be quicker. jason, please hurry,” desperation seeps into your words, painting a vivid picture of the peril you find yourself in.
“just hang on, i’m on my way,” jason's promise becomes a lifeline, a lifeline you desperately clutch onto. the plea, "don’t hang up, please don’t hang up," echoes through the phone, the fear of losing that connection palpable.
“I won’t, honey. just keep telling me what’s going on, okay?” jason's voice is a steady stream of reassurance, a counterpoint to the mounting chaos.
your breath quickens as you confess, "there’s multiple, jay."
“multiple what? sweetheart, talk to me,” jason's concern deepens, the gravity of the situation reflected in the intensity of his inquiry.
“people, there’s multiple people. they’re still following me, and I can’t lose them,” your voice quivers, painting a chilling image of the shadows closing in.
“i’m almost there, okay? just hang on a little longer, can you do that for me?” jason’s words are a beacon of hope, urging you to endure the storm just a little while longer.
“they’re getting closer. shit,” panic infuses your voice as the chase intensifies. jason senses the urgency, a quiet determination in his response.
the abrupt cut-off and your distressed cry for help and jason’s call to you, "y/n!?" mark the harrowing turn. the phone, a lifeline moments ago, is silenced by a crushing foot, an audible confirmation of the looming threat.
“looks like your boyfriend isn’t going to make it, gorgeous,” a sinister voice taunts, the malevolence palpable in the dimly lit alley. the struggle intensifies, and your defiant words ring through the night.
“get off of me, you creep!” your voice is a mix of fear and defiance, a visceral response to the encroaching menace.
“watch your tone, sweetie,” a chilling warning hangs in the air as they pin you down. the confrontation takes a dark turn as you spit in their faces, a desperate act of resistance.
“such a shame that’s what you’re using such a pretty mouth for,” a sinister chuckle underscores the dehumanizing intent, leaving a bitter taste in the tense air.
“that’s alright, we don’t want you for your mouth anyway,” a chilling statement, a precursor to unspeakable horrors, hangs over the alley.
in the clash of desperation and violence, the air changes as jason, your vigilante savior, descends upon the scene like a guardian angel emerging from the shadows. the sounds of a fierce struggle ensue, muffled grunts and the scuff of boots on concrete. with a swift, powerful intervention, the men are knocked out and when they loosen their grip you sink to the ground with defeat and despair. you don’t even notice you’re crying until jason gently prys your hands from your face and rubs your tears away with the rough thumb of his leather glove
then, in one swift motion, jason's strong, reassuring arms envelop you, pulling you into an embrace that feels like sanctuary. relief washes over you, grounding you in the reality of his protective presence.
“it's okay, sweetheart. you're safe now,” jason's voice, previously a lifeline over the phone, now echoes directly into your ear, a soothing melody that erases the lingering echoes of fear. his words are a healing balm, mending the wounds of terror inflicted upon your psyche.
the dimly lit alley transforms from a nightmare into a haven under the watchful gaze of your friend. the tension in your shoulders eases, and the erratic beat of your heart gradually steadies as you bask in the warmth of his reassuring touch.
“i've got you, y/n. you're safe,” jason whispers, the warmth of his breath against your ear a soothing balm to the wounds inflicted by fear. the resonance of those words sinking deep into the recesses of your shaken soul. his presence is a shield against the haunting memories of the alley, a reassurance that the nightmare is over.
the shattered phone lies forgotten, a casualty of the struggle, as jason continues to shield you from the residual fear. he tilts your chin up gently, meeting your eyes with an unwavering gaze that speaks volumes of his commitment and protective instinct.
“let's get you home,” jason murmurs, his fingers tenderly brushing away a stray strand of hair from your face. together, you navigate the now-quiet alley, the looming threat replaced by the solid ground beneath your feet and the reassuring touch of the person who faced the darkness on your behalf.
as you approach the familiar comfort of your apartment, jason's protective hold lingers. “are you okay?” he asks, his voice a gentle murmur that eases the residual tension in your body. you nod against his chest, words escaping you as relief and gratitude flood your senses.
the apartment door closes with a muffled thud, shutting out the ominous whispers of the night. jason, ever watchful, guides you towards the bathroom. the soft hum of the overhead light bathes the space in a gentle glow, revealing the porcelain sink and mirror.
you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror – disheveled, eyes wide with residual fear. without a word, jason turns on the faucet, letting the water flow until it reaches a soothing warmth. his fingers graze yours, urging you to lean over the sink.
the splashing water echoes in the small room as jason's hands cup and scoop, the liquid cascading over your face. the feel of his fingers against your skin is both tender and firm, each touch a cleansing ritual that washes away the remnants of the night.
you glance up into the mirror, meeting jason's eyes. there's an unspoken understanding as his hands move methodically, the cool water providing a refreshing contrast to the heated intensity of the ordeal. the sensation is grounding, a simple act of care that transcends words.
as you straighten up, a vulnerability lingers in your gaze. you turn off the faucet, and the silence hangs in the air. the wet droplets cling to your skin, a tangible reminder of the shared intimacy in this simple act of cleansing. jason's hands linger on your face, his fingers tracing a silent promise. the air in the bathroom holds a charged stillness, the transition from fear to intimacy palpable.
the urgency of the night lingers in your eyes. “stay, jason, please,” the plea escapes your lips, a raw, desperate plea that echoes in the confined space of the bathroom. his gaze meets yours, and for a moment, the weight of the world seems to shift.
there's a pause, a heartbeat suspended in time, before jason's expression softens. his agreement is wordless, a nod that carries the promise of a shared refuge in the night.
the journey from the bathroom to the bedroom is taken in tandem, the touch of his hand on the small of your back a grounding force. the mattress welcomes you both, and the room is immersed in the soft glow of bedside lamps. the night unfolds with shared breaths and jason's hand finding yours.
“thank you.” you whisper to him under the sheets, the warmth of his body next to you radiating into your own, “thank you for protecting me.”
“i’ll always protect you, sweetheart.”
masterlist . jason todd masterlist . taglist
thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!
alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.
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spidernuggets · 1 year ago
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Random Jason Todd relationship HCs that live in my head rent free
he hates any physical touch but also absolutely desires it because my boy is touch starved.
will make any sexual jokes whenever given the opportunity. "Oh my god, that was so hard" "you know what else is so hard-"
forhead kisses 🫶🫶😍😍🙌🙌
when starting a relationship, before any physical affection, yous would link pinkies when walking around before holding hands 🙌🙌
pls let him rant about his books
will smack your ass whenever he walks passed you
he lowkey likes being little spoon more than big spoon
just hold him, he's fragile
he'll melt if he sees you wearing his clothes, especially his brown leather jacket 🤭🤭
he might scold you for trying to stay up for him to come back from patrol, but internally, he's probs like "oh my lawd, i love them so much i might die again"
idk why, but i feel like if you compliment him on anything, he'd reply with smth cocky or say whatever, but when you leave, he'll be grinning and giggling and kicking his feet like a school girl.
If you're not a vigilante, he'd want to teach you how to defend yourself, use a gun, etc. You'd get excited about how skilled he is, and his ego would just go 📈📈📈
if you are a vigilante and his teammate too with the Titans, yous would spar on a regular basis. The first time you sparred (before your relationship), he'd go easy on you, but once you show how skilled you are, he probably already fell in love by then. In a literal sense, too, seeing as you toppled him over during your sparring match.
Pulls you into an alley during missions/patrols for a quick make-out session 😏😏
Now time for hurt/comfort, my fave
the first time you sleep in bed together, he'll most likely have might terrors that would wake you up. when he wakes up too and you ask him about them, he'd raise his voice, have a bit of a temper tantrum and tell you it's none of your business.
next morning, he'd either kiss you all over as a quiet apology or stay quiet about the dilemma and pretend nothing happened.
if the latter happens, he'd apologise eventually for yelling at you and telling you he doesn't want to talk about it.
ok, say he comes back from patrol or a mission with the other Titans, and something went horribly wrong, and he's blaming himself, and considering how the other Titans treat him, they'd probably blame him too, depending what happened that might.
So he's just cursing loudly, punching the wall, knocking things over. NONE of this anger is pointed towards you, Jason would never raise a hand at you, no matter what circumstance, he just needs something to release his anger on.
Something like this would probably happen a good few months into your relationship, so you know to step away from him for a while, until he calms down, then you'd make him some tea and you'd both sit on the couch or lie in bed in a somber but somewhar comforting silence.
Jason would then find some way to apologise for his outbreak, and you would repeat multiple times that it's not his fault.
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millyhelp · 9 months ago
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Jason panics when he sees your first period after you and him started dating.
Seeing you double over in pain on the bed, squeezing his arm when a wave of strong cramps hit you, and seeing you cry in pain was something that almost made Jason freak out. This man now had a mission.
Jason did research. Read books. asked doctors. Yes, this man kidnapped a gynecologist just so he could ask personal questions but he let the poor man go as soon as the doubts were resolved.
After he knew the answers to help you, this began to be a tradition in your blood days.
Jason would give you orgasms and he would fuck you. Of course he didn't leave affection aside, but the most effective thing to get rid of your cramps was orgasm.
and if you agreed, over time, Jason would even eat you out during that time. But only if you agree! He doesn't want you to think he's weird (he is)
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cipheress-to-k-pop · 3 months ago
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I'm here (j.t.)
Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader
Warnings: Kissing.
Word Count: 2.7k
Song Rec: I love you, I'm sorry by Gracie Abrams
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It was hard to enjoy the cold when Jason was surrounded by the uncomfortable heat of tailpipes and exhaust vents and the bustle of Gothamites around him. He could feel himself break out into a sweat even though he was on the roof of a building, where he had been for the last twenty minutes.
He had taken off his helmet, preferring to keep only his domino on but even then, he felt like he couldn't breathe easy. He could easily blame the city's shitty climate but deep down he knew the reason was across the street from him.
He watched as the lights flicked on; his view obstructed due to the frosted glass that he had begged you to put up. You hated closing the curtains because you felt it made your already small apartment even smaller and he hated the fact that anyone across the street could catch a glimpse into your home.
He could really see the irony in that now as he wished for a better view of your face.
But even without it, he could clearly envision you coming home from a long day, dumping your bag at the door, and kicking off your shoes, refusing to kick off your socks in the same way and instead tossing them into the hamper. Dirty socks were your pet peeve, one that he learnt extremely early into the relationship.
However, you also refused for him to wear shoes in your home, and he hated being barefooted, so you compromised and got him a couple spare socks and a pair of slippers. He wondered if they were still there in the lowest drawer of your shoe cabinet.
You'd immediately sit on the ground to rest your legs after walking four blocks from the subway station instead of a chair because you didn't want your 'outside clothes' to touch your clean furniture.
A melancholic smile spread across Jason's lips as something beautiful, yet painful began to coil around his chest. He loved that he could still remember every single thing about you. It was those little features; the way you'd always forget your towel in the dryer while taking a shower and begging Jason to bring it to you, the tiny welt in the corner on your lips that you got from biting them til they'd bleed, that lock of hair at the back of your head that was a different texture than the rest. It was those that would bring him back to Earth whenever the green of the pit seemed to blind him.
The lines of your body were the only thing he envisioned when he closed his eyes, the mellifluous flow of your voice threading through his eardrums whenever he had any quiet, the heat of your phantom fingertips tracing up his arms and wrapping around his waist as he laid alone in bed.
You haunted him, your memories tormented him, and he wondered if you were in the same boat as him, simply existing but not living. He wondered how you would feel if you heard the deep baritone of his voice now that he's grown into a man, or the heat from his chest when he enveloped your now much smaller form in his arms.
He wondered if you were wondering about him. He wondered if you were lying alone like him or had his side of the bed already been claimed by somebody else. Someone who was smarter and sweeter and better.
The pragmatic side of him told him that he should be happy if you managed to find another. Afterall, he loved you so much if you asked him to carve out his own breaking heart and place it in your palms, he would, if only to see the smile on your face. So, he should be happy if you were happy.
However, rest of him banged against his ribcage with bloody fists, begging for it not to be true.
He scolded himself while his feet mindlessly took him to your apartment building, and he was left staring at the frosted glass of your window.
He knew it would end up this way, he just knew it. When he had first come out from the Lazarus pit, he was adamant not to meet you again, convinced that you would be better off without him.
Then he kept thinking about you and he concluded that he'd only see you once, if only to see that you were doing well and taking care of yourself. And then he'd never tempt himself again.
And then he promised himself he'd only watch you from afar, desperately trying to catch glances of you like a parched man would savour the smallest drop of water.
Then he got even greedier. His heart tugged him so hard that he almost fell off the roof in his haste to grapple across the street and climb down the fire escape til your apartment building.
He promised himself this would be the last. He would stop here. He would only listen to your voice while a wall separated the both of you. He would stop there.
Jason listened to you sing while you washed the dishes, your voice only fading to a dull hum through the wall and his brows furrowed, leaning his forehead against it as he tried to catch every wave of your voice.
Then eventually it was silent, and he stared at his feet for a couple seconds before sighing and beginning to stand.
He didn't know why he continued to come see you. Every time the fleeting glance of you passed, he was left feeling an empty chasm that seemed to drag his stomach into a blackhole. He was unable to get out of bed the next day, despaired by the fact that you were able to go about your day while he was stuck in his own hell.
So, why did he continue to do it? Why did he feel your absence like critters crawling all over his skin and only feeling a semblance of relief when he knows that he's near you? Why can he only feel better when he feels his heart pounding in his chest when he thinks that at any moment you could accidentally spot him where he was hiding even though he'd be constantly disappointed? And yet, he still hoped you'd spot him again.
He'd hear the lights click shut any second now before you crawled into bed, falling asleep while clutching your phone and scrolling through Instagram.
He was always disheartened at the end of these nights, when he realized that he was the only one lingering outside in the cold as he waited for you to notice him, to long for him. But yet again, you managed to get through another day without losing yourself in your grief, unlike him.
Was it really that easy for you to get over him? He was standing outside your apartment, wishing to go back to the nights where you used to invite him in with open arms while you remained oblivious to how much he missed you.
He turned his back to leave when he heard a click and then a noisy squeak of the hinges as you pushed the window open.
Your wide eyes met his stormy blue and you froze.
"Hey, beautiful."
There was a beat of silence between the two of you that was filled with the sounds of Gotham and you continued to stare at him, shocked into a stupor. Finally, it seemed like you were able to knock your consciousness back into your body and you squeezed your eyes shut and began counting backward from ten.
"He’s not really here, (Y/N). Jason is gone. You were there at the funeral. You watched them lower his body into his grave, (Y/N). He's gone. And he's not coming back."
Jason watched your throat bob like a lone acorn down a tempestuous river and you squeezed your eyes shut tighter, flared nostrils telling him that you were on the verge of tears. Your fingers curled into a tight grip that had your knuckles turning a shade lighter.
Now he knew why he was so anxious about seeing you again. Why, when one foot had taken a step toward you, the other remained anchored to his spot until you walked past him. While he was worried that you had moved on from him, he was even more terrified to see the effect that his death had on you.
When he came back to Gotham and he realized that he had been erased and replaced by Bruce, it was only easy for him to think you had done the same thing. It was easier for him to think he had been abandoned by the entire world. But he was always scared to find out if he was right, so he kept his distance.
However, he was even more scared to find out that you had been left missing him because of a stupid mistake he had made as a child when you had begged him not to. You had known he was beginning to go off the rails, that he was getting rebellious, and you had begged him not to do anything rash.
He had just taken it as a sign that you didn't believe in him either, that you were just like the others, and he had sought to prove you wrong. He laid on the blood of the warehouse, beaten bloody and waiting for his father to rescue him and wishing that you wouldn't be too despaired by his immature stupidity.
Now watching you dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, as if trying to erase what you had just seen, he felt guilty for putting you in that position. He shouldn't be here, he shouldn't have left, he shouldn't have loved you in the first place.
Still, he couldn't move.
You took a deep breath and opened your eyes, blinking a couple times at the ground before you could raise your head again.
Your shoulders slumped and your eyes began to fill with tears, "That usually works."
"(Y/N)," he whispered, reaching for you put his fingertips stopped right before crossing your windowsill as though there was a physical barrier stopping him from touching you. His hand trembled in the air before he dropped it to his side, "It’s me."
This was something he had been dreaming of every night since coming back. He dreamed of reuniting with you, of touching you again, of loving you again. But now that the opportunity was an inch away from him, he was worried that his last chance at love had died within the flames of the warehouse that night.
You stayed still, eyes flickering over him, starting with the mop of dark curls on the top of his head and raking down his face, the same features you remembered had grown more masculine. You lingered on the different scars littering his skin, analysing every inch of him with concentration that made him want to shuffle uneasily.
Your expression began to melt into uncertainty and longing the more you continued to stare at him before you suddenly gasped and stepped back, "You’re crazy, (Y/N). He's gone, this isn't really happening."
He grasped the window just as you began to close it shut, "Please, don't. I’m here, baby, I’m really here."
You stared at the hand holding your window open with furrowed brows; you hadn't expected this illusion to retaliate against you trying to end this dream.
You never opened the windows of your apartment, especially not at night. You never wanted to invite Gotham’s smog inside your home but for some reason tonight your heart had tugged you toward it with such power you thought a breath of fresh air would have done you some good.
Why? Why tonight of all nights had you opened the window? Had you even opened the window in the first place? Or had this been a cruel game played by your mind while you were asleep?
"You died," you whispered, voice barely above a decibel, "I saw you dead. You aren't really here. This doesn't make any sense."
You wanted to touch him, you wanted to feel his beating heart underneath your fingertips but you knew that he would evaporate into smoke the second you reached for him like all the other times and even though you knew you would breakdown the second you woke up from the dream, you wanted to continue looking at him and drink in his presence that you had missed so much.
Gloved fingers lifted your chin so your wet eyes could meet his and tears began streaming down your cheeks in thick rivulets, your chest collapsing from the weight of your sobs.
"I know it doesn't make any sense, but I’m here. I’m really here. And I’ve missed you so much."
You shook your head, "You’re not. You're dead."
His arms circled around you, and he brought you into a hug. Your cheek rested against the kevlar of his suit, hips digging into the windowsill as you continued to sob and despite knowing that he wasn't really here, your chest began to fill with warmth.
"I’m here, (Y/N)."
Jason stole what little breath you had left in your lungs when he leant down to capture your lips in a firm kiss, as if trying to prove to you that he was here in the flesh, with fresh blood pumping through his veins.
You sobbed against his lips and licked into his mouth, hands coming up to grasp at his hair while his own curved your back into him, melding your bodies into one.
Heavy boots thumped against your floors, knees knocking in his effort to climb through the window and shut it behind him before pressing you against it. He quickly threw off his utility belt before you had wrapped your legs around his waist to prevent any of his weapons accidentally hurting you.
You cupped his jaw, thumb brushing against the peak of his cheekbone. The action had Jason’s eyes rolling back in ecstasy, every single touch setting his body on fire, each nerve ending sparking with electricity. He kissed you harder, refusing to pull away even though he knew you were getting breathless. He could hear your gasps for air every time you parted but you still dragged him back toward you with a hand clutching the roots of his hair.
He couldn't stop, wanting to lose himself in your very soul. He could feel the heat of your body pressing against him, he could smell the familiar scent of your shampoo, his ears were filled with the sound of your sighs and your lips smacking, his tongue tasted the salt of your tears mixed with the sharp chill of spearmint tea.
He finally pulled away when you had placed a hand on his chest, pressing his forehead against you, watching with intense passion as you tried to catch your breath, his grip on your thighs not loosening.
You trailed wet lips down his throat, listening to his quiet sighs until your lips reached his jugular. You could feel his veins pulse with life underneath your lips and your chest began pounding, butterflies beginning to erupt through you.
"You’re really here? You're alive? H-how is that even possible?"
Jason nodded, only realizing then that his eyes were filling up with tears, lashes and cheeks wet once you had begun to stroke the skin beneath his ear.
"I missed you so much." you confessed, voice breaking and brows furrowing in despair.
"I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn't come sooner, I should've-I should've come sooner. I’m sorry." he whispered, trailing his lips along your shoulder, hiding his face into the crook of your neck and you sighed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.
"You’re here," you whispered, chest shaking with a mix of sobs and elated giggles, "You're really here. You're finally here."
You both remained there, your back pressed against the frosted glass window that had fogged up slightly, legs wrapped tightly around his waist, chests pressed together.
"I’m here."
Forever Taglist:
@simonsbluee
@notslaybabes
@superheroesaremyjam113263
@writers-whirlwind
DC Taglist:
@tchatso
@p--e--a--c--h--e--s
@sometimeseverythingsucks
@sokkas-honour
@unstable1902
@lostgirlheart
@missdisapear
@tadpole-san
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@uxavity
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@capricorn-stark
@evermoore580
@dumbbitchgalore
@fuckingjinkies
@some-lovely-day
@that-one-fangirl69
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Text
Remember me, please (don't let me die a second time)
love is not designed for the cynical - series masterlist here
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pairing: jason todd x reader (gender neutral)
length: 1.7k
genre: hurt/comfort, angsty fluff
warnings: turns out your bf being dead for three years leaves some lasting scars on both of you, lots of talk of grieving and recovering
a/n: three posts in one night ok gnight I die now until next weekend
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Your legs swing back and forth where you're sitting perched on the counter of your kitchen, scrolling idly through take-out options on your phone while you wait for Jason. You'd sent him into the living room to put music on, admittedly, long enough ago to get suspicious, having told him that your record collection is expansive enough that he should be able to find something he likes.
Hopping off the counter, you make your way after him, turning the corner to see him standing in front of the bookcase next to your TV stand, staring at the records piled onto the shelves.
"Jay?" You ask gently, moving next to him to put a hand on his arm, smoothing over his skin under his t-shirt. He doesn't look at you yet, his eyes staying forward with his fists balled at his sides. You bring your hand up to brush through his hair gently and sigh.
"You'd talked about it so many times, you know," you explain. "The kind of turntable you'd get, the records you'd collect. When I started buying them for myself, I just thought… I don't know, it just felt right." Jason, as you speak, reaches forward to brush his fingers along the spines, tracing titles of all his favourites. He knows what you're talking about, of course - remembers the days of the two of you, young and broke and wandering the streets of Gotham, dreaming about all the things you knew you'd never really become. He just didn't think…
"I didn't," he clears his throat. "I didn't think you'd remember all this." You don't quite have it in you to hide your hurt at that.
"Of course… I remember everything about you, Jay. It's all - it was all I had left of you. Of course, I held onto it." There's an honesty in your words and Jason thinks he should be grateful for it, should thank you for cutting open your chest for him and letting him see inside. 
"You shouldn't have," is what he says instead, and you pull your hand away from where it had been resting on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around your waist, instead.
"I'm going to go order dinner," you say gently, and Jason squeezes his eyes shut. "Take your time." When you leave, going back to the kitchen to find your phone, he stays standing in front of the records, letting his fingers brush over all the edges of them. There's something real about seeing them, about seeing the ways in which your grief manifested, real and tangible and taking up all this space in your life.
He picks up one of them, eventually, the sound of you chatting on the phone with whatever restaurant you've decided on snapping him back into the present movement and leading him to grab it. When he gets it set up on the turntable, letting the music fill your apartment, your home, the life you built while you were waiting for someone you thought would never come back, Jason finds himself wishing, just for a moment, that you had just moved on.
The guilt, of course, immediately follows this as he digs the heels of his hands into his closed eyes before following you into the kitchen just in time to see you hang up and drop your phone back onto the counter. You smile when you see him, patient and understanding in a way that makes his stomach roll.
"Do you want a drink?" You ask him.
"I'll get it," is all he responds with, putting his hands on your waist to quickly move you back up to the counter, sitting you there before making his way to the fridge. You let him - you always let him, seemingly knowing when he needs to be kind, to do something good with this body of his. You let him pull a beer out of the fridge, popping the cap off and catching it. You let him wipe the condensation off of it before he hands it to you so that your palm doesn't get wet. You let him do whatever it is that he needs to do while he thinks whatever it is that he needs to think, sipping slowly while he stands between your parted legs.
"You shouldn't have waited for me," he says quietly, and you pause with the bottle half to your lips. 
"I wasn't waiting. I was remembering." You put the bottle down next to you on the counter, placing a cold hand onto Jason's cheek.
"You should've forgotten," he pushes.
"I chose not to," you retort, voice still gentle, hands still kind. "I didn't want to forget about you, baby. I couldn't let myself." Jason sighs, letting his head hang as his hands tighten their grip on the edge of the counter on either side of your hips.
"You deserve better than that, baby," he says sullenly, and you cup his cheek in your hand as you coax him to look at you.
"There is nothing better than the ways that you've loved me, Jason. I couldn't possibly deserve more," you say, blinking as your eyes mist over. Jason notices it, naturally, making a wounded sort of noise and cupping your face in his hands, his palms solid and warm and grounding as he leans his forehead against yours. 
"You wasted three years on me and I… I can't forgive myself for that. I can't forgive myself for doing that to you, for leaving you the way I did," Jason says, his voice choked. You pull back to look at him firmly.
"You didn't leave me, Jay - you were taken from me. I mourned you because I lost you. None of that is your fault… and it never will be." Your voice is clear when you say it and Jason almost, almost smiles at the stubbornness that you wear so well. But he can't help but see those records every time he closes his eyes and he can't help but imagine you buying them, putting them on your shelf one by one as you let the grief consume you.
"Did you ever date? While I was dead?" He says it easily - or, in a way that's supposed to seem easy, pulling away from you to get his own beer from the fridge and leaning against the opposite counter while he pops it open.
"Excuse me?" Is your only response. He doesn't say anything more. "No, Jason, I… No. No, there was never anyone other than you. You know that - I've told you that. If you don't believe me, I -" "I believe you, baby," he says, and the relieved slump of your shoulders only lasts until he speaks again. "I just think you were wrong for that."
"I beg your pardon?"
"You should've moved on with your life," he says, and there's a hard edge to his voice that you're sure you don't appreciate being pointed in your direction. "You should've moved on from me."
"Well…" you say carefully. "That's not a decision you get to make for me. And it's not a decision that holds a lot of weight now, seeing as you're, well, alive and standing in my kitchen wearing my sweater."
"You wasted three years on me," he presses on. You stiffen.
"I grieved for three years," you retort. "I sent flowers to your grave every week for three years. I - I built a home and a life for myself and I had to do it without you and, yes, I tried to fill that life with whatever pieces of you I could hold onto because I loved you and I missed you. And you're telling me now, what? I should have just gotten over it?" Jason stares at you through your outburst, at your trembling lip and watery eyes and your hands, fists clenched so tight he's sure your nails are digging into your skin. He stares, eyes wide and mouth open as he searches for words, until you burst into tears.
That, of course, is enough to have him lurching forward, slamming his beer bottle onto the counter as he gravitates towards you, slotting himself between your parted legs again to shush you and hold you and wipe the tears from your cheeks.
"I'm sorry, baby," he whispers, over and over. "I'm so sorry, please don't cry for me." Your palm connects with his chest as you slap him weakly, your other hand scrubbing at your eyes.
"You still don't get it, Jay," you lament. "You're the only person worth crying for." He laughs a bit at that, finally, and pulls you impossibly closer.
"I'm sorry, pretty," he says again, his lips pressed to your forehead. "I just…" 
"I know, baby," you sigh, letting yourself relax against him, your tears slowing as you sniffle. "I know."
"I love you so much," he says earnestly. "And I - I'm grateful that you waited. That you remembered. I…" he sighs then, his grip tightening on you as he blinks back his own tears. "Thank you for remembering me," is all he says, and he hopes so desperately that the way he clutches onto you will help you realize how much it all means to him.
"Of course, Jay," you soothe, running a hand through his tousled hair. "That's what being loved is, I think. It's remembering. And I… I love you always, you know? I'm happy to remember you, always - even when that's all I have left of you." Jason sighs at your words, his eyes squeezing shut. He knows what you mean - knows his mask will claim his life once again, that you'll be left alone once more. You never talk about it, too scared to bring it up, but you both know the truth. The possibility is just too high that one day, Jason won't come home for the second time. 
He isn't sure who takes more comfort in knowing that he's solidified in your life enough that he'll never really be gone. He isn't sure it's so good - that he wouldn't still prefer you move on to something with hope and safety and happy endings.
But he knows that he's loved and that he's remembered, and that's enough for him to settle for tonight.
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ghostfacesvalentine · 28 days ago
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HALLOWEEN DAY 24: Bunny butt - Jason Todd x fem!reader
Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader NSFW!
Warning: Some cursing, sneaking around, fingering, butt play, not much I think.
Type: Blurb
Request: N/A
Word count: N/A
Prompt: Jason sneaks by readers house for Halloween. She shows him what her costume would be if she went to a party tonight and ends up bent over his knees. NSFW!
Notes: Yeah shut up I know
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Your father never approved of you going out and about, especially during the night here in Gotham. You were old enough, sure, but you still lived under his roof, he spoiled you rotten and you just didn’t want to fight it. You always wondered what it would be like to go out on Halloween night. Going to parties and bars was so otherworldly to you and you weren’t going to start this year. On top of your father’s disapproval of going out unchaperoned, he absolutely detested Jason. Instead of the awkward fighting and bickering between both of them, Jason opts to sneak in through your unlocked window, specifically for him.
You were already tucked away in pink satin pajamas underneath your fluffy bedspread watching the exorcist before 11. Your boyfriend hadn’t texted you, you knew about his double life and always tried to be understanding about his lack of quick responses.
The loneliness was loud and clear, you selfishly wanted Jason all to yourself, but you knew you had to share him with the rest of Gotham.
After a few minutes of the background noise coming from the TV, you heard the familiar sound of the window sliding open. Jason climbed through the opening, silently landing at his feet with a boyish smile. “What? No Halloween party?” He asked in a quiet voice, he noticed your father’s car was home, but he couldn’t resist seeing you. Without mentioning it to you, he called in a favor to sabotage your father’s workplace enough to have him take off.
You rolled your eyes at the question, sitting upright and swinging your legs over the bed to head over to greet your boyfriend. He picked you up with ease, you wrapped your legs around his waist, holding his face as you pressed your lips against his. He still kept you in the same position, kissing you again and again, silently giggling with you when you couldn’t help but smile. Jason kept his grip on your legs, walking back over to your bed “is your door locked?”
“Always”
“Good girl.” He murmured as he kissed the top of your head, setting you down at the corner of your bed slowly.
“So what are you doing tonight? Besides staying in. You’re not even dressing up?” Jason looked to the screen before your bed, silently snorting at the ridiculous film.
You rattled your brain trying to come up with a believable answer, but if you were honest, you really didn’t have a plan. “Well, I have my bunny costume from a few years back, my dad told me to get rid of it, but I just never wore it again. That was my plan if I got to a party but-“
You froze in your sentence when you felt two green eyes glow with envy at the words that came out of your mouth.
“Let me see.” Was all he interrupted your sentence with. A small laugh came over you until you realized he was being serious. “Don’t be mean Jay-“ you whined, to which he kept his same expression, simply looking at you as you lazily protested. You knew this was a fight you weren’t going to win, to which caused you to do just as he said.
Your closet was decorated in all kinds of pastel pinks, some black, but as Jason would put it, it seemed like a princess lived there or a princess died and you inherited everything. You dug through all your clothes, mainly the ones that weren’t your favorites and pulled a white bunny outfit together with sheer white tights and a white body hugging bodysuit. To compliment the outfit, you added some thigh high tights. You had the ears in a box full of miscellaneous items.
When you were ready, you came to Jason, all dolled up and even spun around for him a few times. His silence was making you nervous. “I never thought I’d live to see the day that I think I agree with your dad.” He joked, his eyes eating you alive as he looked down to your figure. Your cheeks felt the warmth as he inspected you, you avoided his eyes for a moment that felt for hours. “Come here baby.”
Reluctantly, you walked over to your boyfriend, standing in front of him in between his legs. His hands grabbed your wrists, pulling you down to lay over his knee. You didn’t have time to react, now only feeling the pressure on your belly pressing in by his knee. You didn’t know what to say, you knew Jason to be adventurous in the bedroom but you were far from experienced. Of course you trusted that he would stop the minute you were uncomfortable, that was a given, but you were still shy about trying anything new.
“Jay- my dad’s home-“ you murmured, weakly attempting to get up only to have his hand press you back down “Relax, he’s back at work for the night. I say we have around two hours before he gets back.”
Still unsure, your body tingled at the feeling of his hand gliding around your curves. His fingers danced around the more delicate parts of you, gliding across your clothed folds. You whimpered at the feeling, it has been days since Jason touched you and you hated to be so long without him that you were willing to overlook the fact that your father could or could not be home. You trusted Jason to never get you in trouble like this, only feeling his digits find your most sensitive nub.
Jason kept his agonizing movements, gliding across your clothed sex, then back around your asscheek. Your eyes widened when you felt an abrupt sting across your ass. You didn’t expect to moan at the slap and you didn’t have to look back to know Jason was smiling ear to ear at the fact that you liked it. His hand rubbed the stinging area slowly, letting you catch your breath for a second before he raised his hand again and smacked your ass, this time catching a bit of your clothed pussy as well. Another moan, this time louder, escaped your lips. Before you could say anything, he did it again, then again and again.
You felt the uncomfortable wetness against your clothes, rubbing your knee’s together to get some kind of relief. “That’s my girl.” You heard Jason call out to you, his hand rubbing your stinging cheeks for a few moments before gliding up and down your clothed folds. Suddenly you felt a tear in your tights, of course they were thin, but the sound of the tear was replaced by a soft groan coming from Jason when his fingers felt the warm arousal troubling your panties.
“Fuck.” He murmured under his voice, dragging his fingers along the puffed up outline of your pink sex before plunging two thick fingers into you. He went knuckles deep into you, causing your hips to jolt, closing your eyes as they rolled back in pleasure. He pumped his fingers in and out, slowly at first to get all your juices flowing.
Motivated by your whimpers, he pushed the rest of your bodysuit aside from the area he was focused on. Twisting his fingers, he stuck a thumb into your tight asshole after soaking it in your juices for easier friction. A louder moan escaped your lips. You couldn’t see him right now, but he was completely enamored with you, how you let him do whatever, how easily you trusted him.
He curled his fingers, still pumping them in and out of you, smirking at your jolting hips and swaying legs. His thumb only going in deeper to your second hole, this time grabbing you by your lower half with his hand half gone into your lusting body.
The feeling was obscene, the sight was pornographic, but you were completely in bliss as you were a slobbering wet mess. His free hand slithered over to your face, your mouth open with the inability to stay quiet, Jason shoved his index finger into your mouth, swiping it across your tongue. “Suck”
And just like that, you entertained him. Starting to suck on his middle finger as he added to your mouth. That didn’t stop him from adding a third finger into your pussy, another slobbering moan escaped your lips. The more you tried to move your hips away from him, the more he pushed down on you, pumping his fingers in and out. You felt a fuzzy sensation in your core, your folds tightened around his fingers, white stars invading your closed eyes as you felt your juices squirt out of you and into his lap and fingers. “That’s my good girl, fuck.” He murmured still pumping fingers in and out, this time slower. “Maybe I should get you a bunny tail buttplug” he half laughed as you came down from your first orgasm of the night.
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captainsophiestark · 4 months ago
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Vigilante Book Club
Jason Todd x Reader
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Masterlist - Join My Taglist! - Part 2 Part 3
Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)
Fandom: DC
Summary: After having an all-around terrible day, the only person who might be able to make it better is a certain book-loving vigilante.
Word Count: 1,562
Category: Fluff
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
I sighed heavily as the tomato I'd set on the counter and turned my back on for two seconds rolled onto the floor and went splat. Some days were just meant to be shitty, apparently.
Today had started out perfectly nice and ordinary. The sun had even been shining, which was a miracle in itself sometimes in Gotham. But then, I'd left my bag unattended at the coffee shop while grabbing my order from the counter, before returning to my table. It didn't have anything legitimately valuable in it, in terms of what the thief got, but it did have my favorite copy of my favorite book, which I'd had for the better part of a decade. All my little notes, bookmarked favorite pages, and the first edition put into print before a few typos and errors were corrected on later runs; in other words, irreplacable. And now it was gone forever.
The rest of my day had likewise been terrible, although normally mundane events might've been colored a little by the loss of my book. Now, all I wanted to do was eat something I liked and then immediately go to bed. And even that wasn't going to plan.
I huffed, setting down the knife I'd grabbed when I turned my back on the tomato and intending to replace it with some paper towels. I froze mid-turn, however, at the sound of the window in my hallway sliding open. Because of course this day hadn't ended yet.
Slowly, as quietly as possible, I turned back to the counter and picked up the knife. I knew I'd locked that window, but apparently someone had managed to just quietly and easily slide it open. That wasn't a good sign.
I crept across the kitchen, tensed and ready to run at a moment's notice as I neared the corner to the hallway. I wanted to see who or what I might be dealing with, while also being prepared to run if I needed to.
I paused at the edge of the kitchen, taking a few deep breaths to calm my nerves. Finally, I mustered up the courage to slowly lean around the corner to peek into the hallway. When I did, I found someone standing much, much closer than I'd been expecting them to be.
"AH!" I screamed, jumping back while brandishing the knife out in front of me. I made it halfway across the room in one leap as the person in my house shifted backwards too.
"Shit," he swore, voice slightly distorted by the vocal modulator in his very recognizable helmet. The Red Hood. Standing in my apartment, apparently after having broken through my window.
I lowered my knife slightly and stopped in my living room, just a few steps from my kitchen. I wasn't completely relaxed, but in general, the Red Hood seemed to have a helpful, non-dangerous-if-you're-not-evil reputation. But he'd also just broken into my house.
"What the hell are you doing?" I demanded. Red Hood held up his hands to show he was unarmed, and apparently also to answer my question: he held a familiar bag I thought I'd never see again in his hand.
"Sorry for scaring you. I didn't think anyone was here, I was planning to just drop this off and go. But I busted some black market smugglers today, and one of their lower-ranking guys had this. Seemed like something you might want back."
I barely let him get through the end of his sentence before I dropped the knife on the nearest table and rushed across the room to grab my bag. I yanked it open while it was still in Red Hood's hands, peering inside with my heart hammering in my chest. I almost collapsed on the spot when I found my book inside, looking exactly the way I'd left it.
"Oh thank goodness!" I cried. I turned back to Red Hood, still clutching my book tight. "Thank you so much for bringing this back to me! I was heartbroken when it got taken."
Red Hood just shrugged. "Glad I could help."
He started shifting back towards the door, carefully setting my bag and the rest of its contents down on the counter, but I couldn't just let him leave like that. He'd quite literally saved my day; I wanted to do something for him in return.
"Wait! Can I... offer you dinner, or something?" I asked. "I was about to start making some tacos..."
Red Hood's gaze drifted to the kitchen as mine did, landing on the pitiful start I'd made on dinner and the tomato still on the floor. I couldn't be totally sure because of the helmet, but I thought I heard him snort.
"I appreciate the sentiment, but that doesn't look anything like dinner. Maybe next time I bust some criminals I'll find a cookbook I can bring you."
I scoffed in mock-indignation, but I couldn't quite hide a smile all the same.
"I know how to cook, alright? Today's just been... a little rough. Until you brought my book back, at least!"
Red Hood chuckled. "Well, I'm glad I could help. Makes my day a lot better, too."
We shared a smile (I assumed, since I couldn't technically see his face), then I lit up as a shock of inspiration hit me.
"Oh! What if I let you borrow this book!" I cried. "It's absolutley fantastic, I promise you won't forget it. Since you knew it was important, I'm assuming you're a reader?"
He stared at me, looking a bit taken aback.
"I'm a very big reader, but... you'd actually let me borrow this?"
He gestured to the book still clutched tightly in my hand, and I whipped it up to my chest again, holding it tight to me.
"Hell no! I won't let anyone borrow this copy, ever. But I have a loaner copy I've used to get my friends invested in the story that I'd be happy to share with you. And... maybe you could come back when you're done reading it, and we could talk about it? Maybe over dinner? I promise I'm a better cook than the current state of my kitchen would suggest."
He didn't respond right away, to the point that I started to get a little nervous. Maybe he'd really wanted to leave when he'd first started heading back to the window, and didn't want anything to do with me or this conversation. Just when I started crafting something to say to let him off the hook, he finally spoke up again.
"...As long as you're sure it wouldn't be an inconvenience for you."
"What? Of course I'm sure! If you're interested, I'd love someone else to talk to about my favorite book. And I'd still love to make you dinner as a thank you for bringing this back to me."
Red Hood nodded. "Okay. That'd be nice, thanks."
"Sure thing. Let me go and grab you my other copy of this book, one second."
I ducked into my bedroom, going straight to the bedside table and carefully setting down my copy of my favorite book. No way I wanted to take a single risk of anything happening to it again.
Once that book was safe, I turned to my brimming bookshelf to grab the copy for Red Hood. Only a fellow reader would understand the importance of returning the copy he brought back to me, and honestly, I couldn't wait to hear his thoughts on the story after his first read through.
I returned to the hallway and handed the book over with a smile. Red Hood took it, tucking it safely away in a deceptively large pocket in his hero suit.
"Thanks," he said. "I'll come back in... a week?"
My eyebrows shot up. "Is that enough time for you to read it?"
"Of course. I've gotta do something to fill the time I'm not running around catching book thieves."
I smiled, and I got the distinct impression that Red Hood was doing the same. After a moment, he cleared his throat, and started heading back towards the window again.
"Anyway... thanks for the book. I'll see you next week."
"See you next week! Bring your thoughts on the book, and maybe a different mask so you can actually eat dinner."
He chuckled. "Don't worry, I wasn't planning to try to force it under the hood."
"Good. And feel free to use the door instead of the window next time!"
He just waved, clearly making no commitment as he stepped out onto the fire escape. I smiled as I watched him go, waving back when he met my eyes and shut the window. I moved closer and watched him as long as I could before he disappeared over the rooftops, off into the night for whatever other vigilante stuff he had to do tonight.
I sighed, staying at the window for another moment to process the past ten minutes. Everything had started to feel like a hallicination, possibly brought on by my truly terrible day.
No matter what, though, I could reassure myself it was real with the newly-returned book on my bedside table, or the knife I'd left in my living room. Somehow, my precious copy of my favorite story had made its way back to me. And even better, I now had a date with a vigilante scheduled to address said book.
I just needed to figure out what dinner went with 'Red Hood comes over to discuss literature'.
****************
Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen
DC Taglist: @gaychaosgremlin
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a1307s · 1 year ago
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Ice Pop
(Jason Todd Smut)
[Art is not mine! Credit to Crow Kid]
Requested by: dogma0325
Keys:
Y/N: Your Name
Word Count: 4262
Warnings and/or Pre-notes:
Cursing
Semi-public sex
Oral (female receiving)
Fingering
Degrading
Begging
Creampie
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     "Lady Wayne?" Alfred calls, pulling my attention away from the case file I've been looking over for Bruce.
     "Hm?" I hum out, glancing at Alfred across the kitchen before turning back to my work.
     "I made ice pops for the boys and you. Would you mind giving them out for me so I can start dinner?"
     "Why'd you make ice pops?" I ask, getting up and heading towards Alfred. Sat on a tray in front of him are big ice cubs packed full of different fruits, each with a popsicle sticking out the bottom.
     "You guys do not drink enough water so I'm hoping this will help."
"We drink plenty of water," I answer back, picking up the tray.
     Alfred sighs, turning his attention to me. A deep frown is present on his face making his aging stand out even more on his face. "Lady Wayne, please tell me you don't actually think that."
     "Of course not," I tell him, following it with a laugh. None of us are good at taking care of ourselves in any way, much less in our water intake.
     I walk out of the kitchen, popsicle tray in tow as I head towards the second story of the manor. It doesn't take long to run into one of the boys. Damian is doing God knows what on the staircase. He's prancing around the steps, his katana in hand as he swishes it around. "What's up, Short Stack?" I poke at him, making sure to leave plenty of room between us.
     "Practicing inclined swordsmanship," Dami answers, following it with a click of his tongue.
     "That makes complete sense," I lie between my teeth. What is up with this kid? "Maybe let's not play with swords on the stairs though," I tell him, holding out one of the ice pops.
     Damian takes the pop, pairing it with another tongue click. "I'm a trained assassin. I think I'll be fine practicing on the stairs."
     I hum before hopping up the stairs, passing him on the way. "A trained pain in the ass too," I mumble to myself once he's out of earshot. I walk down the hallway, stopping outside Dick's room. I gently knock, which is responded to quickly with the door swinging open.
     "Hello!"
     "Hello Y/N," Richard answers, glancing down at the tray in my hands. "Did you make popsicles?"
     "Alfred made us ice pops. He says we don't drink enough water," I explain, holding out another pop.
     "Hey, Tim?" He asks, ducking his head back into his room. "Do you want a popsicle?"
     "Fuck ya!" Tim answers, quickly joining us at the door frame. "Thank you, Y/N," the younger boy says, taking a treat from the tray before disappearing back into the bedroom.
     "Thank you," Dick repeats, also taking an ice pop before disappearing too.
     That was pretty easy. I thought it would be more of a struggle to find everyone. With the manor being so big and the cave downstairs being even bigger, sometimes it's a struggle to find people. Maybe I'll get lucky, and Jason will be in his room too. I let the thought push me toward Jay's room. Once outside, just like Dick's room, I knock. Unlike Dick's room, I don't get an answer. "Jason," I call, knocking on the door again. There is no answer, so I decide to peek inside. The room is empty, with no sign of Jason at all.
     Maybe I'll get lucky, and he'll be in the bat-cave. If not, then he just won't get an icicle. I make the short walk down the hallway to Bruce's study. Once again, I knock just in case. You never know if Bruce has a business partner in there or if they're work or league-related so it's best to be prepared. After a few seconds, the study door opens, and Bruce's grizzly bear form takes up the space. "I brought you a snack!" I chirp, raising the tray some.
     "Thank you for the ice-pop," Bruce says, a soft smile covering his face as he picks out which one he wants. "Jason is down in the cave if you want to give him his or I can take it down."
     "No, I'll take it down. I'm soaking in my break time from the Riddler case."
     Bruce chuckles some before stepping aside so I can walk through. I squeeze through the gap, making sure not to drop the last two popsicles. The older man closes the door behind me before sitting back down at his desk. I take my time walking through the room towards the clock, looking over all the bookcases pilled full of books. I mess with the clock, getting it to unlock as I look over some of the titles. I need to come snoop through here for a good read once I finish my book.
     The clock pops some as it swings open, the old wood worn and stressed from constant use. I slip through, making sure to close it behind me in case Bruce gets a visitor. The cave echoes as I walk down the metal stairs, my slippers sliding a bit as I walk. You'd figure by now I'd wear shoes with more traction, so I don't slip on the constantly soaked floors. Oh well.
     "Jason!" I yell, walking down the last few stairs before standing steadily on the cave floor which is also soaked. Go figure. Who'd guess that a cave in the 'rainy city' of Gotham would always be wet and cold?
     "Y/N!" Jason yells back, his voice echoing some off the walls.
     I turn my head in the direction of his voice. Jason is tucked under one of the bat-cycles, working away on who knows what. He's always tinkering on something; The bikes, the bat-mobile, the bat-plane, something. I make a quick - but careful - pace towards the makeshift garage where all the bikes are stored. The 'garage' is more so a fancy shed than a garage. The left of it is stocked full of motorcycles. The right on the other hand is Jason's work bench that's always packed full of tools and different parts. The front of the shed - other than the door - is a wall of glass windows. You can see the left from the computer but it's harder to see the right. It's even harder considering the bat-mobile is usually parked in front of the windows on this side, like it is today.
     "I brought you an ice pop," I tell him, setting the tray on the workbench before leaning against it. The edge of the bench digs into my back a bit but it's worth getting the pressure off my feet. For once it's not overflowing with random shit.
     "Did you?" Jay asks, shifting some to get out from under the bike before deciding not to. He pulls on something, causing the metal to clink against the floor. "That's not good," he mumbles to himself more so than to me.
     "Probably not," I answer back, crossing my arms over my chest and smiling some.
     "Ya, ya, ya," he grumbles, sliding himself out before shifting to a sitting position. His eyes glance over me before settling back towards the bike.
     Ever since the failed mission last week Richard swears there's been tension between Jason and me. On my last mission, I got shot a few times which has benched me from on-field missions. It's part of the reason I've been looking over case files for Bruce. Jason swooped in and played hero, which ended in a feverish kiss. We've both ignored it; not because of me though. I keep trying to talk about it, but he just brushes it off. Since it doesn't seem like he cares much I've settled on it just being heat from the 'you almost died' moment. It's nothing more than that, a misstep that happened because emotions were high. Though Richard swears up and down that, we like each other. Maybe so, but Dick likes drama so he can be a pot-stirrer sometimes.
     I watch Jason tinker a bit more, making sure not to stare at his shoulders too long. Jason is an asshole most of the time, but even assholes can look good when their mouths aren't running. Especially tall assholes with a physique that reviles Bruce's. "Are you going to eat an ice pop?" I ask, glancing towards the computer stored in the cave. I can't see much of it, but I can see the top of someone's head, probably Tim's or Bruce's.
     "Are you going to harass me about it until I say yes?"
     "On behalf of Alfred, yes."
     Jason half sighs, and half chuckles before standing up. "Well, I can't say no to Alfred," he says, walking towards me. Jay stops in front of me, less than an inch between us as he reaches behind us to grab a popsicle off the tray. A mixed smell of leather and oil rolls off of him, filling me up with fuzzy warmth. "Is the other one for you?" He asks, pulling his arms back in front of us, both ice-pops in his hands.
     "Mmhmm," I hum, glancing down at his hands. I am not petite by any means of the word, but I feel small when around Jason. Anyone would feel small around the brick of a man.
     Jay hums back, popping his treat into his mouth before holding mine out to me. I should be an asshole and push him to acknowledge the kiss. The thought rolls around my head for a second as my eyes flicker from Jay's face to his hand. I bend my head down some, taking the pop into my mouth as he still holds it. I make a show of it, wrapping my hand around his wrist as I slide down some. I keep a hold of the pop, loosening his grip on it before lifting my head back up; the icicle still wrapped up in my lips.
     Hood's jaw is set tight, eyes drinking me in for a couple of seconds before he turns on his heels and walks away from me. Ya, Richard is definitely wrong. I push the event out of my head, focusing on the stuff I've been reading about Riddler, figuring the new environment will help my thought process. I roll over the information, absorbing the melting ice, occasionally pulling it out of my mouth so my teeth don't get too cold. The curse of having sensitive teeth. The room is mostly quiet, though, occasionally Jay drops something, cutting through the silence and causing Tim to pipe up and ask if we're okay.
     Maybe I should recommend checking out some of Riddler's old hideouts. He's on the run again after attacking one of the Joker's men. I don't see him finding a new hideout on such short notice. Maybe he's staying with Two-Face, they're pretty close. Though I think Bruce already checked out-
     "Can you stop that?" Jay asks sharply, pulling me out of my thought process.
     I pull the ice out of my mouth again, causing it to pop louder than I meant to. "Can I stop what?"
     "That," he hisses, eyes throwing daggers at me. "You're being annoying."
     "Oh, I'm sorry," I mumble, going back to my treat but making sure to be as quiet as possible as I enjoy it. I wonder if the Riddler just fled town? Probably not, if he hasn't before, I don't see him doing it now. Maybe we should just interrogate Two-Face about it. Even if Bruce cleared all of Two-Face's hideouts, that doesn't mean he doesn't know where his buddy is.
     "Y/N," Jason husks out, his voice a lot closer to me than it was before. I look up from the floor to be met with Jason once again barely an inch away. "You should go back upstairs."
     "Why?" I ask around the ice-pop, cranking my neck some to look into Jay's eyes.
     He rolls his jaw some, his eyes hard as they stare down at mine. "You're being a distraction," Jason finally answers, taking the popsicle out of my mouth and throwing it on the workbench. "Go upstairs."
     "Hey! You just ruined my treat," I whine, dropping my hands to my hips as I glare at the taller ex-robin.
     He rolls his eyes, starting to walk away as he mumbles to himself, "Maybe I wouldn't have ruined it if you did that to my-" The sentence is cut off as Jay sits back down on the floor.
If I did that to his what?... Oh... Oh... No, I did not... I didn't get into Jay's head. I mean, I teased a bit, but I didn't think it was that bad. I barely did anything. Well, unless me 'annoying' him wasn't normal annoyance and was that kind of annoyance instead. Was it?
     I hum, pushing myself off the workbench, and start heading towards the door so I can test my theory. "Maybe if you'd ask like a big boy I would," I mumble as I slide past Jason, quickly slipping out the door after the words are out. I leave the door open, giving me the chance to sneak a peek at how he's reacting. Jay's head shoots up at my words, his eyes glancing from my descending form and the project in front of him.
     "Y/N," he calls, quickly climbing to his feet and chasing after me. His big hands wrap around my shoulders, pulling me back. "What did you say?" he asks, shifting himself so I'm trapped between him and the bat-mobile.
     "What did you say?" I repeat, shoving my hands into the back pockets of my pants.
     Jason stands there, hands still heavy on my shoulders as he stares down at me. "I... didn't say shit," he finally pushes out, taking a quick glance at my lips before staring back at my face.
     "I didn't say anything either then."
     Silence falls between us, the only sound being Tim tapping away at the computer and occasional yaps from the bats hanging from the ceiling. "You... you are a fucking tease," Jay finally whispers, his fingers featherily light as they skip down my arms.
     "How am I tease?" I ask, making sure to sound cocky. I'm finally going to get him to talk about the kiss. I win.
     "Sitting there blowing a popsicle... Looking at me with doe eyes..." Jay's hands jump from my arms to my waist, still light as they dance across the waistband of my jeans. "Spending the last week walking around with almost nothing on. Pretending it's so there's easier access to your bandages," he mumbles, his fingers working at undoing my pants.
     "Jay, I was just trying to get you to talk about - Oh!" My words are cut off by a soft moan as Hood dances his fingers across my clothed pussy. My hand falls back to his wrist, wrapping my fingers around it tighter than I did earlier as the other one slides around his shoulders to latch onto the back of his neck.
     "Oh?" He repeats pupils dilated, hiding some of the green as he watches my reactions. His fingers are still light as they circle my clit, down to my hole, before circling back up again. My legs close some, the feeling of Jason's forearm muscles being pressed into my thighs. "You know, since bringing you back to the cave, seeing how cute you looked all bandaged up and planted in that hospital bed-" he starts, tilting his head down and whispering in my ear, "- all I've thought about is how amazing it would be to serve you. Living on my knees so I can please you. It must be so painful to get yourself off with five bullet holes littering your stomach. Tell me, can you bend enough to finger yourself, Baby?"
     "Jay-"
     "I asked a question," he says, shifting his head over so that our noses are gently pressed together. "Yes-" he starts, sliding his fingers under the right side of my panties, "-or no?" Hood finishes, switching his touches to the left side of my underwear.
     "No," I breathe out, releasing his wrist to join my hand on his neck alongside the other one.
     "Hmm," he hums out, placing a quick peck on my lips before lifting his head again. Jay drops his hand from my pussy, wrapping both of them around my thighs to lift me. I whine from the lack of friction, getting a chuckle out of him. He's careful not to press against my stomach, avoiding causing pain to flower from my healing wounds. Jay's lips are light as they slide over my neck and his hands heavy as they set me down on the hood of the car.
     "Jason you can't, we can't-"
     "I can, you just have to let me," he mumbles, sliding his hands to my back and dipping down my pants. His hands are warm as he pushes my pants off of me, and gentle as he lifts me to pull them down my legs before discarding them to the ground. "Let me taste you, please?" Jay whispers, placing a kiss behind my ear before trailing down my jaw and neck again.
     "But Tim's in the cave," I whine, shoving my hands into his hair and letting my fingers get tangled in it.
     "So?" He asks, sliding his hands under my shirt, hooking his thumbs on the hum to push it up as his hands rise.
     "Ow, fuck don't do that," I hiss when Jay slides over one of my wounds.
     "I'm sorry," he murmurs, pushing my shirt over my head and letting it fall onto the hood of the car. Once my shirt is off, Jason's mouth is instantly attached to me. He makes quick work, sucking and kissing any skin he comes in contact with as his hands slide back down to my thighs. The chillness of the car aids in the need that's building. My thighs are peeled apart, and my panties are soon descending my legs as well.
     "I cannot wait until you're better."
     "Why is that?" I ask, my fingers tugging on his hair as his fingers ghost over my clit.
     "I want to hear you sucking on me like you did that popsicle," Jason says, stealing another quick kiss before he falls to his knees. "Take your bra off," he orders, glancing up at me before looking back at my cunt, "I want to see your tits as I enjoy your pussy."
     Reluctantly, I remove my hands from his hair, unclasping my bra and tossing it on top of my pants before planting them back on his head. Jay's eyes stay locked on my tits as he makes long, slow licks over my clit. His hands are rough as they grip my thighs, stopping me from locking them around his head. "You taste so good," he whispers, poking his tongue into my pussy before latching his mouth around my clit.
     Jason enjoys himself, watching my boobs move around as he sucks and licks at me. It doesn't take long for the knot in my stomach to tighten and soon enough I release onto Hood's tongue. He hums happily to himself, taking his time licking my mess up. "Bruce is going to be pissed when he sees the mess you left on his car," he teases, followed by a soft chuckle.
     "Jay," I whine, tugging on his hair to try and get him to crawl up my body.
     "Y/N," he whines back, further teasing me but doing as I want. "You're acting like a whiney little thing. What happened to the badass that teased me with a popsicle? Not so badass anymore, huh?" His fingers dip into me, curling occasionally before he pulls them back out of me. "Are you a needy brat? The spoiled Wayne baby that's not used to being told no?" Jay's fingers speed up their pumping as he degrades me, kisses being littered across me as he speaks.
     "Jason, please," I whine again, dropping my hands to his waist to try and pull him closer to me.
     "Please what, baby? What do you want?"
     "Please?" I try again, drawing out the word.
     "'Maybe if you'd ask like a big girl I would' give you what you want," he says, throwing my words back in my face.
     "Fuck me, Jay," I mumble, working my hands at his belt and pants to try and undo them. I do manage to get them undone and waste no time sliding my hand in. I softly paw at his dick, impatiently waiting to hear him make the noises he's been forcing out of me.
     "What a needy little thing. Less than ten minutes ago you were oh so worried about Tim seeing us and now look at you. You're naked propped up on a car, begging me to fuck you as you give me a handy. It turns you on, doesn't it? It turns you on knowing at any second someone could see me filling your pussy." I hate to admit it but he's not wrong and he knows it, which makes it even worse.
     Jason chuckles a bit as he pulls his fingers out of me. I pout at the emptiness left inside me, which gets me a deep, slow kiss from the anti-hero. "Don't pout baby, I'll fill you back up in no time," he promises, wrapping his arms around my legs again to lift me. Jay props me back on my feet before turning me around and bending me over the hood of the car, being careful not to push the metal into my bandages.
     The cold metal sends shivers through me and causes my nipples to harden almost painfully. In no time his fingers are sliding back into me, continuing to gently push me towards my orgasm. The jingling of Jay's belt fills the space between before his fingers are lost, and his tip is pressed against my hole to mess with me. He gently pushes his head against me, pulling back before it goes in. "You're teasing," I finally whine, shimming my hips back when he places his tip against me again.
     Jay chuckles but lets me get the extra inch from my movements. "You teased first," he reminds me, placing his hands on my hips. The roughness feels nice against my smooth skin as he tightens his grasp. He uses his hands to keep me in place as he slides the rest of the way in. The stretching sends continual waves of pleasure through me, rewarding Jay with a soft moan. His hair softly tickles me as he leans down to litter my back with kisses, using them to fill in the time he's given me to adjust.
     After a minute, Jason slowly pulls out before bottoming out in me again. His pace stays slow and soft as he uses me. The zipper of his pants rubs against my thighs every time our hips clash. "Jay, I need more," I whimper, trying to buck my hips back but his hands stop me from doing it.
     "You don't need more, you want more," he answers, a smirk forming in his kisses. Despite the teasing, Jay gives in, keeping his pace slow but thrusting into me harder. I can feel myself tightening around him and his thrusts getting sloppier. "You're such a fucking tease," he mumbles as his pace quickens. "Filling my work room and my head with the sounds of you slurping and sucking away on your stupid treat."
     "Jay-" I say, trying to get his attention as he thrusts push me closer to the car's grill than I'd like.
     "I know, baby," he mumbles against my shoulder before pressing a kiss to it. Jason's hands slip from my hips to my stomach, gently cupping my wounds and making sure not to add any pressure to them. "I'm so fucking close," he murmurs, his thrusts still inching me up the hood. His hands bump into the front of the car, adding slight pressure to my stomach before he adjusts his placement.
     Jason's thrusts gentle a bit as he slips one of his hands down to my clit, starting to rub circles into it. Mews fall out of me, mixing with Jay's heavy breathing. "I'm sorry," he mumbles against my ear as he pulls me back by my waist, shoving himself as far in as he can. His fingers keep circling my clit as he fills my womb. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he murmurs once my release comes and I tighten around him still tucked into me.
     We stay like this, Jason buried into me, his hands rubbing circles into my hips as he litters kisses across my back and I still hunch over the bat-mobile, my legs threatening to give out from under me if we don't move soon. "So, about our kiss the other day?"
     Jay lets out a deep laugh, smashing another kiss into my shoulder blade before slowly pulling out of me. The mix of our juices leaks down my legs, Jason's fingers rubbing it around my thighs. "Maybe we should worry about cleaning you and the Bat's car before we discuss that and this." Touché Hood.
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b3ach-bunn7 · 4 months ago
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Saw your request for story ideas!
Jason with a fibromyalgic reader. He really never has to fear them they will never have the strength to over power him. Only if you want to and are comfortable
(Pinky promise this is sent in by a fibromyalgic)
Hey, I really hope I wrote this as you hoped for! I tried my best to read up on the condition before, and I hope I did you justice!
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DEPOLLUTE ME
You’re weaker than Jason, but it just makes him love you even more
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Jason Todd is a man of principles. Doing what he does, a vigilante, he has to be. Dick had told him when he'd emerged as Redhood, that it didn’t work to do what you want. That, despite what he’d like to believe, Jason was privileged to have the strength and talent that he did, and it was people like them who abused it, that were the reason they were doing this in the first place.
Whatever. Dick always wants to be the smartest guy in the room, Jason thinks. These principles, though, are why he was so scared of you at first. Maybe not of you, but to be with you.
Because the problem with you is that he’s completely not scared of you. And it's all because of your condition, which makes him feel even shittier than he already does about jt.
Fibromyalgia. That’s what it’s called, the condition he’d stayed up two nights in a row reading all he could about. Books and NHS information pages. Anything to learn everything about you. You’d told him about it on your fifth date, the one he’d planned to ask you to be his girlfriend. A chronic illness, that caused pain, fatigue, headaches.
“I just- It doesn’t hinder me much. I just need you to know before this gets serious. That you’ll probably be looking after me more than the average girlfriend.” You’d said, eyes cast down to the half eaten food on your plate.
“That doesn’t bother me. It- I’ve got some mobility issues too, in my arm. Got shot once.” Jason winces at the repsponse he’d given you. Like the two were even remotely similar.
You’d smiled slightly. “It’s a little worse than that. It’s a chronic illness. It’s sort of like.. constant pain in my body? Makes my muscles stiffer, amongst other things. And it makes me sort of.. weaker, I guess. Physically.”
The two of you had talked about it for a while, before you’d changed the subject. He’d asked you to be his girlfriend still, under the porch light at your doorway, and you said yes.
It’s why he’s in your apartment right now. You’d given him a key (despite him being perfectly capable of using the window) and never seem phased in the slightest when he’s sprawled on your couch reading when you’re not there. He loves those things the most about his relationship with you. You’d carved a place for him in your life and it felt so effortless. Like you didn’t even need to think about making an extra portion at dinner or leaving a change of clothes out even after you fall asleep, because you know he always finishes his work late.
Weaker. That’s the word you used to describe yourself. And in a way, Jason loves it.
It’s only something he’d admit to you, or maybe months into forced therapy sessions, but Jason Todd is scared. He’s scared of a lot of things, contrary to what he lets other people see. He’s scared he’ll lose the handful of people he’s come to love. He’s scared that one day he’ll fight another fight he won’t win. He’s scared that one day he might wake up and he’s back there, Arkham Asylum, with that sorry excuse of a human being with him. But worst of all, he’s scared of people. Not an overwhelming fear, nothing he can’t fight through in an instance, but. He just never knows who he can trust. Who he can be vulnerable around.
And Jason isn’t weak by any means. Not that he likes to brag, but most of his body mass is muscle, ones you’ve seen, abs you’d run your hands across under his bedsheets. He can defend himself, he knows he can. He just doesn’t want to have that fear looming over his head all the time. Because it can happen. It happened once.
It had already taken so long for him to even let you in. And it was so easy. You were so perfect. So pretty, so sweet. Jason was half sure you were lying about your condition, because there was no way somebody in constant pain, 24/7, was so kind. So nice. Had patience for how long it took him to warm up to you, to let you touch him without him breaking your hands.
It was like a miracle. One he was so cruelly happy for. It was like somebody had taken all the fears he had in every relationship and eradicated them. There was no world where you could hurt him like so many others had done before. You were incapable of it. He could let his guard down completely and he’d be fine.
And he felt guilty for it at first. Of course he did. Like he was benefiting from something that caused you pain. He’d told you, but like with everything, you were perfect. You’d only laughed,
“It’s okay.” You’d snorted, amused at his apologetic face. It had been uttered in the dark of your bedroom, his arms wrapped around your waist, your back pressed into his chest.
“I don’t really mind.” You fiddled absentmindedly with his fingers, traced the calluses on his palms. “Kinda like it, actually. Most people use it as an excuse to like me less. You’re doing the opposite.”
So he doesn’t feel guilty anymore. Maybe slightly, but that little smile you give him, he hates to say it melts him enough that he doesn’t care.
The sound of the door creaking open drags his attention away from his thoughts. He looks up and there you are. Bundled in a scarf and gloves and a hat. You told him that the cold sometimes made it worse, and the winter weather was cruel. Your eyes light up when you see him sitting on the couch. You bound over, throwing the discarded book on his lap away, and sitting down.
“Hey.” You grin.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
You lay down next to him and Jason moves, let you settle slowly down next to him, a hand carding through your hair. You ramble about your day and he listens.
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