#jason todd x oc

[debonairprincesposts]

well hello! what do you think about jason’s tits (those that he does not assume that are very big titties)?

Well my dear reader! I think that his tiddies don’t get enough attention. Like- imagine this:

Jason and you are just chillin’ on the couch and you wanna lay your head on a soft surface of sorts. And what do you know! His tiddies are just within reach. So, you just plop your head on there and pretend that you don’t know what your actions are doing to him. You can hear his heartbeat speeding up (he told you once before how sensitive his chest is and you just happen to put your head extremely close to his nipple. So your cheek is just moving his shirt where it lays as it just barely grazes his skin and it’s making him shudder and squirm in his seat. You smirk to yourself at his reaction).

Another time is when you feel kinda stressed and wanna just squeeze something. So, you just come up from behind him while he’s minding his business in the kitchen, and just casually cup his pecs and start squeezing and massaging them and playing with his nipples from over his shirt, twisting, pulling, and pinching while he subtly (it’s not subtle to you at all, you can read him like an open book) shakes and lets out little gasps where he stands and starts to lean against the counter for support as if to will himself to not completely submit to you and let you take him right then and there on the kitchen floor.

It’s gotten to the point where every time he spots you in the vicinity, he prepares himself and expects you to just come up from behind him and start your assault on his tits. (he doesn’t hate it, he’d just like a warning when it happens)

Every time you compliment him on having such plush, soft tits while teasing him, he quietly whines saying that they’re not tits or something (it doesn’t take long to convince him otherwise.)

I think it would go something like this:

“Look at how wonderful these are,” you say as you squish them together. You’re sat atop his lap as he lays back on the couch, shirt off. “I could play with these all day. Such pretty tits, don’t you agree, Jason?”

His breaths come out in soft gasps as you continue to twist and pinch at his chest.

“Not tits,” he gasps out while lightly shaking his head, “They’re not.” He’s tightly gripping onto your waist as you unhurriedly grind atop his groin which causes a soft mewl to escape his lips.

You grin at his reaction and grab one of his hands and place it on one of his tiddies and squeeze.

“Yeah, they are.” You say as you use your other hand to guide his chin to make him glance down. “Look at them, Jay. Aren’t they pretty?”

His face is red at he looks down at his chest, his breath catches in his throat as he takes a proper look, full of hickies and bright red bite marks from your previous ministrations. Your grinding isn’t helping at all. He might come in his pants if you keep that up. He moans as you keep up with your actions. Curious if you could get him to cum from just touching his chest and light pressure on his groin.

A reedy sound brings you back to the present (the color on his chest from your attention was distracting.) Lost in your thoughts from admiring your work. He looks mesmerizing. Eyes dilated so much that you can barely spot the teal of his irises, his eyes appearing almost completely black. His face is practically the color of his helmet, it’s almost impressive. Shudders leave his body as he completely sinks back onto the couch.

You use the hand that grasping his chin to point it to the side as you lean in to leave more bruises on his neck, your grinding unfaltering. His moans increase in volume as you bite and suck on his sweet spot right at the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

The hand that’s on your waist twitches, his mouth opens in a silent moan as he gasps loudly while throwing his head back on the back of the couch as he gives a full body shiver, cum staining the inside of his pants.

You stop your actions as you take a minute to admire the fucked out look on his face.

You lean your face close his ear as you say, “Think your tits are pretty now, Jay?”

He shivers from the air brushing against his ear. He nods with a quiet whine, sounding out an almost inaudible “uh-huh”, unable to get any more words out.

You grin in victory, “There you go.”

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

I think I went over board. It was only supposed to be a few sentences long.

Didn’t even know I could write like that.

Anyway! Hope that answers your question!

[eternallyhauntingthehouseoflove]

Bruce Wayne fucked his partners through the mattress—and it depended on who and why. If you know he’s Batman, then he’d fuck for stress relief, to uncoil the sickening knot in his belly. However, if you’re unaware of his nighttime activities and believe you’d just lucked up meeting Bruce Wayne, then he’d fuck for ego. He’s got a point to prove: all those years as a recluse hadn’t dulled his ability to grant a lady a good time; that the stories of his youthful adventures are true. (Though his ego bleeds over into Batman as well since he wonders if he’s too old to still be the Dark Knight. If he’s lost his edge).

Bruce’s stamina is insane. He’d have you spread on your belly while he drove his cock into you. One hand enclosed around your throat, the other encircling your waist, and his lips grazing over your ear. Warm gusts of air caressing your cheek with each huff and grunt. The faint scent of his cologne lingering within the atmosphere, though it had been toppled by the aroma of sweat and sex. “Fuck,” he gritted out,” so tight f’me, doll. Only for me. Mine, aren’t you?” There was pride in being the one to undo Bruce Wayne, to make him cuss and grunt like a caveman, to draw out his Gotham accent. He was usually so put-together and driven.

Time warped and melted whenever Bruce had you beneath him. Despite his age, (don’t let him hear that) he could fuck for hours, content to drive his cum back into your hole until he came again. In fact, he enjoyed the slickness. There was something about keeping you beneath him that soothed the territorial monster caged within him like Mr. Hyde. Rarely could you lure the possessive, emerald eyed, envious beast out; Bruce was old and had dealt with his fair share of women seeking an emotional response. But with the perfect concoction of circumstances could you shatter the manacles binding the dominating, jealous, spiteful side of him—and it was wonderful.

Dick Grayson (Dixon’s version) preferred to let his lover work for it. There was a tantalizing element to gazing at his partner while she straddled him, and attempted to sink down into his cock. Dick wasn’t girth-y like Jason or Bruce (nor as unshaven). No, Dick was slim and long—and pretty. Dick was shaven and trimmed, smooth and hairless if he could help it. He never liked to offer up unshaven goods; he thought it was rude.

“God, you. . . you ride like a pro,” he breathed out, nigh gasping as though he’d run a race beside Usain Bolt. A sheen of sweated coated his toned physique, and a scarlet blush left a fiery trail from his cheeks down to his neck. “Don’t stop till I say.” Dick is more selfish in bed than Jason. Unlike Jason, Dick knows he’s cute—pretty, even. He’s confident both in himself and his ability to be selfish and still make you cum. . . hard. He won’t hesitate to assume control if he’s not liking your rhythm, or if he just wants to be a little shit and knock your orgasm off kilter. “Oh, were you going to cum? Sorry. Didn’t notice.”

Speaking of orgasms, Dick cums beautifully, even when he’d rather be described as ‘’manly��’ and handsome. He couldn’t restrain the tremble of his muscular thighs, or quell the furnace roaring inside his belly, or freeze the stars bursting behind the paleness of his eyelids. “I know, pretty baby. I know. Tight, aren’t I? Let it out for me,” you cooed, caressing his sweat-slick, inky black curls. Dick nodded quick and desperately, coal black lashes falling over his oceanic eyes. “Yes. Yes. That’s it. Gonna cum again. Just keep going.” The power he’d stolen returned with a vengeance. He’d gone limp beneath you. Fucked out, his breaths tremulous and stuttered. Naturally, Dick’s palms found purchase upon your breasts, pinching and flicking your nipples before he exerted the last of his strength to lean forward and suckle one into his mouth.

(There’s hints of a mommy kink if you squint hard enough).

Jason Todd loved to see his partner deep-throat his cock. It’s a personal pleasure of his, the one time he allows himself to be selfish during sex. He’s not sure why it’s fascinating to him. Perhaps the sheer primality of watching you struggle to swallow his thickness intrigues him, excites him, causes the hairs on his forearms to stand at attention and the nerves within his body to buzz like a million bees trapped beneath his skin.“That’s right, baby, keep going. Till I see tears,” he murmured, as his large hands slithered up into your nape and tightened in your hair.” Show me how much you love me, baby.”

“What a beauty.” Jason’s chocolate smeared irises tipped backward, his slender hips bucking upward into the warm cavern of your throat, his cock spewing viscous ropes of pearlescent cum. Jason’s frame fell slack against the sofa. Sated. Only you could loosen the tautness in his shoulders like a ball of yarn. Boy, did he adore you.” I hope you can go all night. Cuz I got some steam I been needin’ t’ blow off.”

[smutinlove]

Jason Todd having a size kink will never not be on my mind. he’s 6ft, 6’2ft depending what universe you’re talking about and weighs at least 200 lbs if not more, he is built like a tank.

took him awhile to get use to his size so being around people who are 5’2 even 5’5, seemed abnormal to him. could pick us up with no effort, throw us over his shoulder and walk like nothing happened.

he would use his weight for advantage, leaning down real close almost suffocating but enough to get the gears turning… his hands? ough. big enough to wrap around throats, thighs.

sorry had some thoughts

YES, OH MY GOD.

after the pit changed him, it took him awhile to get used to his height and general appearance. I mean, this man is 6ft and weighs around 200 pounds.

he'd be hitting his head on doorframes and towering over people. can't reach the cereal box on the top shelf? don't worry, he'll get it.

and he's so strong and muscular too.

oh my god, he'd be the type of person to pick up ANYONE and throw them over his shoulder with no hesitation.

he'd even do it for fun.

and we all know that Jason reads books. he ain't no basic becky, okay? this man reads and it makes men and women feral for him.

this man's hands are big. so basically, he'd be enveloping the book in his hands.

speaking of his big hands, Jason's hands WANDER.

when his face is buried between your thighs, he'll occasionally give them a tight, good squeeze, causing you to whine. then he'll mutter something like: "aw, is my precious angel getting all worked up? come on, baby, i wanna hear those sounds."

this man is addicting.

he'll also occasionally give your throat a nice squeeze if he feels like it. or if you ask him to. he'll do it either way.

his big, veiny hand wrapped around your throat, leaving only a little bit of room for you to breathe.

this man is horny too.

he'll fuck you whenever and wherever. he has no shame. he'll do it in your local grocery stores' bathroom or even at the back of a bar.

and the groans he'll let out while he fuck your brains out.

"come on, doll, 'that all 'ya can do f'me?" or "fuck, you drive me crazy, love. your pretty face and thick thighs. you don't even know half of what you do to me."

More size k!!nk headcanons

[redr0sewrites]

kisses with them - DC Batboys Hcs

🥀A/n: your honor i want to put them in a jar and shake them up- anyways this is just something short n sweet i cooked up :)

🥀Cw: fluff, shenanigans, a little suggestive

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

Dick Grayson :

lots of flirty, soft kisses!!!

his favorite places to kiss you are easily your lips or your hands, but he loves kissing every part of you!

Dick loves waking you up with kisses, peppering them all across your face before either of you are really even coherent. he'll start with a gentle kiss to your lips, before moving to your cheeks and forehead and finally your nose, in a gentle attempt to wake you up

this man is a BITER he's definitely the type to nip at you and give you little hickies when kissing you. be careful, because he will take a bite of your cheeks when kissing your face!!!!

Dick loves kissing your hands, whenever you cup his cheek or hold his face in your hands, be prepared for him to kiss not only your palm, but each one of your fingers and wrists as well

he's a very energetic kisser! Dick loves randomly pulling you into a deep kiss for seemingly no reason at all. he doesn't care who's around or whether or not you're in public, he will not hesitate to pull you in like a disney prince(ss) and kiss you right then and there

long, teasing makeout sessions!!!!! Dick loves pulling you onto his lap and kissing you silly. it doesn't even have to be sexual, he just loves having your lips against his

as for him, Dick loves when you give him neck kisses. he practically melts whenever your lips make contact to his neck, turning into your obedient pretty princess. absolutely obsessed with any hickies or marks you leave on HIM, and is not afraid to show them off. he has no shame, and wants everyone to know who he belongs to

HE LOVES LIPSTICK KISSES!!!! if you wear lipstick, it is your luckg day because he fucking loves them. he refuses to wipe them off and would love to spend the day covered in red lipstick smears

overall, he's a very affectionate kisser, and brings a lot of passion and energy into every kiss he gives you

Jason Todd :

this man is soooo touch starved, he loves any and all kisses shared between you two. however, his favorite places to kiss you are your forehead or your temple. its very meaningful and romantic, and he loves getting to wake up every morning and kiss his beloved right on the forehead

Jason is the type to press a kiss to your temple when he's just walking by, to the back of your neck when you're looking down, to your tummy when your shirt is rolled up, any and everywhere he can see. he just loves kissing you, what can i say?

whenever your stressed, anxious, or otherwise upset, Jason always takes the opportunity to cup your face in his hands and press the sweetest kiss to your forehead before whispering sweet nothings in your ear. this man is literally huge, and most likely has to lean down to reach you, but he doesn't mind it at all when it means he gets to press kisses all over your face

im a firm believer that Jason (and all the batboys) would love his partners body regardless of weight, and would looove kissing your thighs regardless of size. he definitely pays special attention to them during intimate times, and more often than not he finds his hand subconsciously wandering to hrip onto one of your thighs when sitting beside you. its not even always sexual, its just comforting for him

Jason's favorite place for you to kiss him? any of his scars. if he notices you paying special attention to them or kissing any of them, he just feels really emotional and fuzzy inside. it's strange to him how someone as perfect as you could love even the flawed parts of himself, and he finds himself enraptured whenever you express love to the parts of himself that he despises

Jason is not outwardly insecure, but he does sometimes miss how smooth his skin once looked without the scars and marks littered across it, especially his back. this being said, he loves when you kiss his back and remind him of how gorgeous he truly is.

Bruce Wayne :

Bruce loves good old fashioned lip kisses, but he also has a soft spot for kissing you on the top of the head, or on your shoulder/collarbone.

this man is fucking huge, and he's not ashamed to admit that he finds it adorable when you stand on your tip toes just to give him a kiss. this is partially why he adores simply kissing you on the mouth, but also because it just feels so intimate to him.

all kisses with Bruce are slow and emotional. he likes taking his time with you, and kisses reflect that.

when you both first started dating, it took him a while to even work up the courage to kiss you as he didn't want to seem too forward. however, after your shared first kiss, he was practically addicted. now he can't go a day without kissing you goodmorning, kissing you before he heads off to work, kissing you when he comes home for dinner, and kissing you before he goes on patrol. yes, all of these kisses are mandatory parts of your guys' days, and he loovesss them

kisses on top of your head are less intimate, but just as important. these are for lazy mornings spent with his strong arms wrapped around your body and your head nuzzled into the crook of his neck. these kisses are meant for when he comes up behind you while your cooking for him, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you gently on the top of the head.

shoulder kisses are a little more flirtatious than the others, these are for when you're wearing the gorgeous outfit he just bought you that shows just a bit more of your chest than strictly necessary, yet no one bats an eye when they realize who you're with. these kisses are for when all prying eyes are off you, when Bruce can inhale the scent of your delicious perfume/cologne and whisper soft promises in your ear.

where does Bruce like for you to kiss him? simple- his cheek. especially when he's wearing the batman mask. you both have a running joke that the entire reason the mask doesn't cover the bottom half of his face is because he would miss your cheek kisses too much.

they are all so silly i love them sm. SEND IN REQUESTS PLEEEEEEASE IM SO HAPPY TO FINALLY HAVE SOMETHING IM INTERESTED IN AGAIN LIFE WAS SOOOOOOO BORING WHEN I DIDNT HAVE ANY INTERESTS 😭😭😭

[aldryrththerainbowheart]

Jason: I would kill for you.

Me: You kill on daily basis. Is that supposed to be some confession of love? Come to me when you're willing to let someone live for me.

[theredhood-jasontodd]

Dick: Hey, Y/N, are you free on Friday? Like around eight?

Y/N: Yeah.

Dick: And you, Jason ?

Jason : Umm... yes?

Dick: Great! Because I'm not. You two go out without me. Enjoy your date!

Jason : Did he just-

[undertheredhood]

random civillain who just moved to gotham: *having a mental breakdown after they accidentally kill a clown with a bad dye-job*

the red hood (notorious crime lord and vigilante): "are you from tennessee? 'cause you're the only ten i see."

[guilty-pleasures21]

My friend and I were talking about Jason and she said it would be cool if Jason's S/O got along with Bruce, but I honestly don't see that happening?

I can't imagine being in a relationship with Jason and at the same time thinking Bruce is a nice guy after all

What do you think?

Oh my god! I’m so excited for this! I decided to respond in the form of a story 😉.

Bruce Wayne

Warnings: brief references to loss and trauma.

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

It took nine months for him to finally let you in enough for you to start falling in love with him. 

     You’d first met Jason in the library; specifically the literature section. He’d been standing by one of the shelves, quietly flipping through a copy of Jane Austen’s Emma. He’d had the build of a stereotypical jock, so you’d honestly been a little surprised to see him focusing so intently on the British classic. But those were just your own biases, so you’d quickly tossed them aside in favour of returning to your search. Halloween was coming up, which always put you in the mood for one of your favourite classics: Dracula. It was short and the unconventional style of writing was always a little jarring at first, but you absolutely loved reading about how the characters puzzled through the mystery. You’d knelt down, searching the shelf where the novel should have been sitting according to the alphabetical filing system. But it hadn’t been there. You’d frowned and tsked in irritation, then quickly snuck a glance at the man standing behind you. You’d barely caught him raising an eyebrow at you over the top of his book before he’d quickly lowered his gaze, acting as if he hadn’t even noticed you there. You’d turned back to the shelves and stood up, checking to see if someone had accidentally misplaced the book after picking it up for a quick read … There! On the top shelf! You’d stretched onto your toes, reaching for the spine, but your fingers had barely grazed the edge of the shelf. 

     “Need some help?” You’d turned to find the man’s attention fully focused on you now, his startling green eyes studying you intently. He’d lowered his book, allowing you a glimpse of his rugged features, his wide lips and his crooked nose that looked like it had been broken and reset a few times already. He’d raised an eyebrow at you and you’d realised suddenly that you’d been staring. 

     “Oh!” you’d gasped, embarrassed by your own actions. “Uh, thank you!” 

     You’d stepped aside, giving him the space to get the book for you, and you couldn’t help but notice how big he was - tall and strong and broad. He’d grabbed the book with ease and rolled his eyes at the title before handing it over to you. 

     “Excuse me?” you’d said, frowning up at him whilst cuddling the book protectively to your chest. He’d given you a once-over in response, taking in your small form, so fragile compared to him, then he’d gone back to his side of the shelf, his expression unimpressed. 

     “Nothing,” he’d drawled, opening up his book again. But the amount of sarcasm contained in that single word had only caused your anger to bubble even more. 

     “What’s wrong with Dracula?” you’d asked, a hundred different retorts coming to mind immediately. Your heart had thudded with anticipation as the adrenaline had raced through your system, your defences instinctively locking into place to shield you from whatever hatred might have been about to spew from his mouth. 

     “It’s a little cliche, isn’t it?” he’d suggested, picking up his book again. “Halloween … vampires … You in a book club or something, princess?” 

     He’d flashed you a little smirk, his expression more teasing than unkind, but the condescending nickname had raked over your nerves like nails on a chalkboard. “At least his characters are more nuanced! And he develops more of a plot in these few pages than Jane Austen does in any of her hundred novels! It’s not just the same old story of two extremely unlikeable characters falling in love over and over again under a different title!” 

     Jason had flinched at your outburst, taken aback by your sudden vehemence. He’d told you later that he didn’t usually let people off so easily, but he hadn’t been able to get mad in the face of your adorableness. You’d rolled your eyes at his admission, but smiled anyway as you’d curled up into his side. It had taken about a year after meeting him before you’d finally realised the real reason he hadn’t shot back at you - the reason he’d just given you an amused smirk and asked if you’d read all of Jane Austen’s ‘hundred’ novels.

     Because he’d seen in you that same instinct - that same fear - to always be on your guard, to always be prepared for someone to attack you and know that no one would come to your defence but you. 

     And that was how you’d first become friends with Jason Peter Todd. 

It took three months after you’d admitted your feelings for him to yourself before you’d realised that he was never going to be the first one to make a move.

     You’d been sitting on his sofa, watching a movie at his place as was your weekly Friday night ritual. You’d never been able to get into Jane Austen’s books, but you’d always loved the movie versions of her stories. Jason had been sitting beside you, legs spread apart, one elbow on the armrest, his hand propping his head up as he’d focused on the movie. You’d inched closer to him at a cautious pace, slowly closing the distance between the two of you. 

     “What are you doing?” Jason had asked finally, nothing ever escaping his notice. His tone was amused - as it always was when he was with you - but it did nothing to ease the churning of your stomach as you’d gathered up your courage. You’d kept your attention fixed on the television, watching as Alicia Silverstone sat in the exact same position as you, puzzling over how to express her true feelings to Paul Rudd beside her. 

     “I like you.” A blanket of tension had smothered the room at your confession, the only sounds coming from the movie that neither of you were paying attention to anymore. Finally, unable to take it any longer, you’d paused the movie and turned to Jason, your brows furrowed in irritation. “Well?” 

     He didn’t know whether to laugh or bolt in terror. Of course you would be the only person to confess your feelings and then get mad when the other person didn’t respond. But he had that same instinct too: to take your fear and twist it into anger - to defend yourself even before the other person could think to attack.

He’d turned away from you, his leg starting to shake as he’d processed your words. He couldn’t- You couldn’t. You couldn’t like him! Not like that! You were his friend and … he couldn’t afford to f*ck up the best thing had ever happened to him in his life! Even if he’d been finding it more and more difficult to stop his gaze from lingering on your soft curves and your full lips and imagining what you would feel like pressed up against him with absolutely nothing in between your bod- No! No. It was a horrible idea. 

     He’d turned to face you, wanting to list out all the reasons he wasn’t good for you. But you’d known him for too long now and you knew by the defeated slump of his shoulders exactly what was going to come out of his mouth. 

     “Don’t!” you’d exclaimed, jumping to your knees and clamping your hands over his mouth before he could speak. His eyes had widened in surprise at your sudden movements and you’d removed your hands from his mouth, satisfied that you’d startled him enough for him to not argue with you. “I don’t want a list of bullshit reasons about why you think you’re not good enough to be in a relationship or how you think it’s going to mess up our friendship or whatever else nonsense you’ve somehow convinced yourself of over the past few years.”

     You’d rearranged yourself on his lap then, swinging your leg over both of his and sliding your arms around his neck as you’d laid your head on his shoulder. 

     “I love you, Jace,” you’d continued softly, running your fingers through his hair. “We can take it slow - we have the rest of our lives, after all - but I want to make this work. I want us … I want you. I just want you, for the rest of our lives.” 

     You’d sat there in silence for a while, letting him digest your words. And slowly, his heartbeat had slowed and his muscles had relaxed until finally, he’d let his arms come loosely around your waist. “I don’t-” 

     He’d cut himself off as his voice had cracked with emotion, and he’d tightened his grip on you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You’d continued to brush his hair gently, keeping your breathing steady and allowing your weight on top of him to keep him grounded. You’d seen him have panic attacks before and though he’d told you a little bit about what had caused them, he still hadn’t gone into much detail about it. All you knew was that he’d gotten beat up by a bad guy as a kid. He’d seemed horribly uncomfortable even telling you that much, so you’d never pushed him for more information. You were too good to him. 

     “I love you, Jay,” you’d repeated, holding him close to you, trying to physically transfer your love for him from your body into his. Eventually, you’d sat back and moved your hand to his cheek instead. You’d studied his features carefully: his thick eyebrows, his moss-coloured eyes, the tiny scar that cut into the corner of his upper lip … “We can … take it slow …”

     And then you were kissing, your lips brushing each other’s softly as your tongues explored one another’s mouths. You’d let him take the lead, stepping back after being the one who’d made the first move, and soon, your kisses had turned heated: his hands squeezing every curve they ran over, your fingers sneaking beneath his shirt to glide over his hard muscles, your hips moving against one another’s as you'd both started getting excited. Eventually, he’d lifted you up and walked you backwards to his bedroom, your lips never leaving the other’s as you’d pulled each other's clothes off along the way. 

     And that had been the best night of your entire life, no thanks to Jason Peter Todd. 

It took another six months after that for him to tell you the whole story of what had happened. 

     He’d sat on your sofa, leg shaking vigorously, teeth buried in his lower lip as he’d waited for you to say something. It hadn’t been easy, but he’d finally told you the whole story: the day he’d gone to the warehouse, the thrashing he’d gotten from The Joker, the trauma of having his soul forced back into his body … and then having the only person who’d saved him from the streets - who’d promised him that there was something in him worth saving - turn around and tell him that no, there really wasn’t anything in him worth saving after all. Now you understood why he found it so hard to let himself be loved by you - to believe that anyone could ever find something in him worth loving. 

     “Oh, Jay.” You’d wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close to you and murmuring into his hair over and over again that you loved him, you loved him, you loved him. You loved his righteous anger and his concerned protectiveness and his unwavering sense of justice. For you, there wasn’t any part of him that wasn’t worth loving - that wasn’t worth saving. Over and over and over again. Maybe you hadn’t been there to save him then, but you were there to save him now. As many times as he needed someone to. 

Finally, he took you to meet his family. 

     You clasp the man’s hand, fixing him with a wary expression as you shake it. “Mr Wayne.” 

     “Please, call me Bruce,” he insists, fixing you with the same smile he’d probably been trained to wear as a child. You let out a noncommittal hum as your hand falls back to your side and you don’t miss the minute flicker in his expression in response to your cold demeanour. But he brushes it aside and glances over at Jason in question, waiting. 

     He’d told him a few days ago that he was planning to ask his girlfriend to come over for Thanksgiving. The rest of the family had already met you - mostly by stalking Jason and constructing elaborate situations in which they’d ‘casually’ ‘bump into’ both of you on the street or a café somewhere - and they’d all been delighted by his sweet little girlfriend who, at times, seemed to have even worse of a temper than him, but who also appeared to love him more than anything else in the world. Bruce’s heart had swelled at the thought of someone giving his son all the love he deserved - all the love he himself had failed so miserably at giving him - and he’d barely managed to keep a lid on his excitement when Jason had finally mentioned bringing you over. But he’d follow his son’s lead and do only as he said. 

     Jason shakes his head slightly, telling Bruce not to take it too personally, then he guides you to the kitchen, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist. Bruce waits for the rest of his kids to follow, then finally, he joins you all at the dining table. 

     The atmosphere is lively, everyone laughing and joking and sarcastically listing all the things they’re thankful for. You join in the fun, easily fitting in with the rest of his family, but there’s a moment when you pause - when your gaze lands on Bruce and you find yourself taking a moment to study his expression. 

     He hadn’t said much the entire meal, but he’d watched his family with an expression of tenderness - of disbelief - his lips curled into a soft smile as he’d surveyed his loved ones celebrating this day of thanks together. And it struck you: the familiarity of that look. 

     Because how many times had you seen it on Jason? Jason, who would watch you with that same tenderness on his face whenever you did something to make him believe that maybe, just maybe, he really was worth loving. From something as simple as calling him cute when he was annoyed with someone for deviating from his mission plan to the bigger stuff like surprising him with a tray of brownies you'd made from scratch because you knew they were his favourite. He'd spent so long being convinced that he wasn't worth loving that he still couldn't quite believe it whenever you made space for him in your life. And now here was Bruce, giving the large, boisterous family he’d so carefully cultivated the exact same look.

     The moment continues to linger in your mind as you all settle down to watch a movie, Jason's siblings arranging themselves across the various forms of furniture scattered around the room while you cuddle up with him on a loveseat by the sofa. The night soon turns into a game of who can stay awake the longest as one by one Jason's family begins dozing off, their satisfying meal coaxing them into a state of sleepiness. You yourself find it hard to keep your eyes open when you're wrapped up in your boyfriend's big, strong arms, all snuggled up against his broad chest. Eventually, Bruce forces everyone up and to their beds, making sure they're all safely tucked in before retiring to his own bedroom. 

     You lie with Jason in his bed, tickling his scalp in the way that always makes him drowsy, even when he's finding it difficult to sleep. 

     “What?” he asks finally, sensing that you're still awake. You narrow your eyes in thought, combing through all the information Jason has ever shared with you. 

     “How old was Bruce when his parents died?” You knew the story, of course - Bruce Wayne had lost his parents in a mugging incident when he'd been just a child - but you hadn't grown up in Gotham, so you weren't too sure about the details of the case. 

     “Hmm, I think he was eight,” Jason supplies, doing his best to stay focused despite your soothing touch. “Why?” 

     Eight?! That must have been horrible! “And did he … have a lot of other family to take care of him?”

     He was rich - obscenely so - and he had a house big enough to rival the President's! So of course he must have had some wealthy aunt or uncle who'd taken him in after his parents died. 

     “No,” Jason mumbles, starting to lose the battle against sleep. “He just had Alfred.”

     Your heart squeezes in your chest, hurting on behalf of the little boy who'd had to grow up almost completely alone, no parents, no siblings, no one at all who understood his circumstances and gave him a reason to keep living.

     “But … How did he keep living? In spite of it all?”

     Jason hums softly, not quite registering the question as he splays his limbs out across you. “I don't know. How do any of us?” 

     You swallow down the lump in your throat and resolve to forget about it. For now, at least.

     You wake up earlier than Jason the next morning - a rare feat, especially considering that it's almost noon - and head to the kitchen to get some coffee after taking a shower. You're surprised to find Bruce already doing the exact same thing, but he greets you with a welcoming smile. 

     “Need any help?” he asks, giving you enough space to stand in front of the machine. You study the various buttons and knobs, trying to see if you can puzzle it out yourself. But in the end, you decide that it's probably better to just let him handle it. 

     “Um, yes, please!” you agree sheepishly, stepping aside and letting him take over. “Can I just have a latte?” 

     He gets to work making you your coffee, then invites you to join him in the garden outside. You clutch your cup tightly, refusing to make it so easy for him to get into your good graces, but you join him anyway, intrigued to find out more about this man who had forsaken your precious Jason when he'd been just a child. You sit in silence for an uncomfortably long amount of time, refusing to start the conversation first. So Bruce begins. 

     “My kids have told me that they think you’re really good for Jason,” he tells you softly, gazing out at his beautifully staged garden. He turns to you and his gaze bounces between your face and the table as he continues speaking. “I’m glad … I’m glad that he’s finally found someone … who makes it easier.” 

     He chose his words carefully, unsure of how much you knew about Jason’s life, so you decided to enlighten him. “He told me … everything.”

     Bruce lifts his head and fixes you with a surprised - and wary - look. 

     “I know … about his parents and Red Hood and … and The Joker.” Your voice grows soft at the last part, your heart aching at the memory of everything he’d told you. You slide your gaze over to Bruce, who’s lowered his head at the revelation that Jason really had told you everything. You narrow your eyes at the look of shame on his face and the rage begins to take over you. “I know … what you did after he came back - or, really, what you didn’t do. Were your morals so important that you couldn’t … Didn’t you think …” 

     You clench your fists, trying to find the words to convey your emotions. Finally, you push yourself out of your seat, your features hard with the same righteous anger that Jason always wore. “I love Jason! I think he’s the most wonderful, sweetest, most caring human being I have ever known in my life! He deserves the world and everything more! And you …” 

     You dig your nails into your palms then force yourself to take a deep breath, letting the anger pass through you. 

     “I agree.” He says it so quietly that you almost miss it. Then he holds your gaze and repeats the words. “I agree with you. Jason deserves everything he never thought … he was good enough for.”

     He clasps his hands together, fidgeting with his fingers as he tries to figure out how to continue. “I …”

     I was wrong? I did my best? I’d do it differently if I could go back in time and fix it? The excuses leaped to the tip of his tongue, but they were all lies. Jason Todd had always been Jason Todd, and it didn’t matter how many times he ran over the millions of different scenarios in his mind: the two of them would have always ended up in the same stalemate in the end. Because Bruce Wayne had always been Bruce Wayne too. 

     Bruce sits back and returns his gaze to his garden, serene and calm and the opposite of everything his life had ever been. “Is he still going to therapy?” 

     You grit your teeth, irritated by the sudden change of topic. But you’ve loved Jason Todd everyday for almost two years now: you knew how to look for the subtle shifts in his expression, the small ticks and habits that gave away his emotions when he was working so hard to hide them. So you don’t miss the tightness of Bruce’s jaw and the tension in his biceps and the minute shifting of his shoes as he probably wriggled his toes in them. 

     “Yes,” you sigh, sitting back down again. “He’s doing a lot better.”

     “Good.”  Bruce nods slowly. “Good. And his … Has he had any attacks recently?” 

     He turns to you, his eyes overflowing with concern, and the final remnants of your anger leave you. “He’s had a few, but they’ve been getting less over time. And he’s gotten better at dealing with them.” 

     Bruce nods again. “I’ve heard about this … tapping technique? Apparently it can help with anxiety if you tap certain places on your body? I can send you a few links if you think it might help him?” 

     And suddenly, he’s not Bruce Wayne, the untouchable billionaire with the practised smile, nor is he Batman, the sour vigilante who thinks he knows better than everyone. He was Bruce Wayne, the little boy who’d lost the most important people in his life and been forced to learn how to grow up without them. The little boy who fought so desperately every single night to make sure that no one else would ever have to go through the same things he had. The little boy who still couldn’t figure out why no one had thought that he was worth saving. Just like Jason Todd. 

     And now you understand. Bruce Wayne had never forsaken Jason Todd. He’d never abandoned him or chosen anyone else over his precious second son. He just hadn’t known how to save the little boy who’d been forced to grow up on his own, who fought every single night to make sure no other child suffered the same fate as him, who had never been able to figure out why he hadn’t been worth saving. He hadn’t known how to save himself. 

     “That’d be great,” you tell Bruce, giving him a warm smile. His lips curl at the ends in response and he sits back again, lighter now that you seemed to have forgiven him. “And Bruce? Thank you for saving Jason.” 

     Bruce lets out a self-deprecating chuckle and shakes his head in disagreement. “I didn’t-”

     “You did,” you tell him, firm in your conviction now. “You saved that little boy from a rough life on the streets. You helped him live again after he came back. You gave me the Jason Todd that I know and love today. So if you think that there’s anything I’ve done to save him, it’s only because you saved him enough first for him to get to me.” 

     Bruce stares at you for a minute, his expression unreadable. Then finally, he smiles. “You know, I guess my kids were right about you after all.” 

     And that was why you and Bruce got along so well, you would think to yourself any time Jason would ask you about it. Because Bruce Wayne had always been Bruce Wayne, but he’d done the best he could to make sure that Jason Todd always stayed Jason Todd; that no matter how hard the world shoved him to the ground, no matter how strongly he believed there was nothing in him worth loving, the world needed Jason Todd. The world needed someone who would do the right thing, even when it was difficult - especially when it was difficult. You smile and ruffle Jason’s hair. 

     “Because Bruce Wayne has always been Bruce Wayne,” you tell him in response. Jason rolls his eyes at your usual vague answer, but his lips curl at the ends like they always do. He lies down, resting his head on your lap, and you stroke his hair softly as the two of you continue watching your movie.

So yeah! Those are my thoughts 🤔😋.

[devilstruly]

best friends to lovers with jason todd

except it's just the best friends part with a ridiculous amount of pining

a/n - this is, and i cannot stress this enough, so self indulgent that it's insane (i'm keeping it gn. though bc we all deserve a chance with this man). in no particular order i'm literally just typing them as i go

☆ hangout days where you just crash at his place and spend the day doing nothing before going your separate ways on patrol

☆ ordering takeout multiple times a week (with bruce's credit card one of you stole) and using a spinning wheel on google to pick a place

☆ watching shitty reality shows/k-dramas so you can complain the whole time

☆ racing on motorcycles through gotham at 2 am after patrol

☆ he'll help with your car maintenance so you don't have to go to a mechanic and the result will be him with a few oil stains on his cheek and hands looking adorable

☆ buying him cosmetic products because he unironically uses 3-in-1 and doesn't see anything wrong with it

☆ stitching him up after a rough night because he refuses to go back to the cave unless he's dying again

☆ always taking his side in a squabble with the family because he is right and they can go fuck themselves (cough bruce cough)

☆ working on cases together, going undercover, etc.

☆ comforting him after a nightmare if you're spending the night together or talking to him on the phone until one of you falls back asleep if you're not

☆ wearing his clothes after crashing into his apartment/safe house after patrol

~°☆°~

i have so many of these i could talk about him forever

[roses-r-rosie3]

Buttons

Jason Todd x M!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Semi public sex, blindfolding, handjob, spit as lube,

Requested by anon:

detective reader with jason todd? the readers really good at investigating and have a lot of important intel on a crime boss that jason is also targeting, when the detective is alone in the office jason is waiting there in the dark ready to get some info, but the reader is very reluctant to give sensitive information to a vigilante. so jason fucks it out of the reader over his desk? until the reader is begging and babbling out information so easily also i'd say this is their first time meeting ok thanks have a good day/night

A/n: This was the fic I was talking about when I posted this 😭

Quote: “You know… I was just going to force you to give me the information, but it looks like you want me to fuck it out of you”

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You were one of the best detectives in Gotham. ‘Why?’ You may ask, well it was because your skills at investigating. As a kid you always loved watching shows like scooby doo. You would constantly try to guess who was behind the mask (you were right most of the time). So it didn’t surprise your parents/friends when you got a job at the gcpd.

When you joined the gcpd, you were one of the youngest rookies at the time, so whenever you would try to input some of your ideas, your superiors would immediately shut you down. It wasn’t until you broke a career-defining case that you earned everyone’s respect, even Bruce himself was impressed. Because of that, you eventually became Gotham’s best and youngest detectives that there was.

So when news broke that there was a new crime boss in town, you were first on the case. However, Jason was also interested in this new Crime Boss, and he didn’t really feel like investigating, so he decided why not just try to get Information from you. Of course, Jason could’ve just asked someone like Tim but everyone else was too busy with their own problems that they didn’t have time for the Crime Boss.

Jason obviously knew about you, youngest detective in Gotham blah blah blah… but the problem was, the two of you have never formally met before. But who knows maybe Jason would get lucky and you would just hand over the information, even though Jason knew the chances were very low (but hey a boy could only hope).

You were in your office, staying overtime to investigate. It was currently 4am and your body was basically running on coffee. You were super invested in this case and nothing was going to stop you. However, you eventually decided to give yourself a little break to use the restroom and get some more coffee.

You said your ‘hi’s to your co-workers before walking back to your office. When got to the door you waved to everyone before walking in and closing the door behind you. After you placed your beverage down on your desk sensed someone behind you. You immediately pulled out your gun from your belt and pointed it at the figure.

“Who are you? And what are you doing here?” You asked.

“Damn, not bad detective” the figure chuckled.

“Answer me goddamn it who are you” you growled.

The figure walked forward, closer to the light in the office. The figure was revealed to be red hood. You knew who red hood was, I mean how couldn’t you know who he was! He was a famous vigilante and he made your job a lot harder than it already was.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, with your gun still pointing at him.

“I’m here because of the new gang leader in town” Jason answered.

“He’s a crime boss” you replied snarlingly.

“Yeah, yeah, you know what I meant” Jason rolled his eyes.

“What about him?” You said.

“I need you to give me some information about him” Jason replied.

“I can’t tell you that, it’s classified information” you said, gripping your gun tighter.

“That’s what I thought you would say, but I’m afraid I’m that I’m not taking no as an answer” Jason said as he walked closer to you.

“Stop! Don’t come any closer! I’ll shoot!” You said.

Jason let out a chuckle before quickly knocking the gun out of your hand. Jason started to slowly walk towards you, until you felt yourself bump into your desk behind you.

“What’s your answer now detective?” Jason said as he towered over you.

“No” you said, standing your ground.

“Why are you making this so difficult?” Jason sighed before he put his hands around your throat as he choked you lightly.

You tried not to make any noise, but a moan slipped out of your mouth as his grip tightened a little. And if that wasn’t bad enough, a bulge started to form in your pants too. Eventually you got so hard to the point where Jason could feel your cock rubbing against his.

“Oh, you pervert” Jason smirked behind his mask.

“You know… I was just going to force you to give me the information, but it looks like you want me to fuck it out of you” Jason whispered against your ears as he slowly started to rub your crotch.

“N-no it’s not like that, you’re not getting the information” you tried to say as he started rubbing your crotch at an even faster rate.

“Are you sure about that detective?” Jason chuckled as unzipped your fly and slipped his hands into your boxers.

You moaned loudly as Jason rubbed your tip, spreading your precum. You whined, bucking up into his hand. Your eyes hung low, squeezing shut as he brushed over your tip.

“It seems to me like you’re enjoying this quite a bit” Jason said as continued teasing you.

All of a sudden, Jason started stroking you fast and tight around your sensitive dick. You whimpered as he stroked your cock faster and faster. Just when you were about to cum, Jason swiftly pulled his hand away. But before you could even complain, Jason quickly took the tie around you neck and wrapped it around your eyes.

“Can’t have you seeing my face now can I?” Jason smirked under his mask.

Jason took of his mask and tossed it to the side before sloppily making out with you. You were completely under his control at this point, I mean you were completely blinded what else could you do (and it felt good too).

Before you were being bent over with your ass facing Jason’s direction. You shivered as you felt Jason pull down your trousers and boxers. Jason spit on his fingers and slowly inserted his fingers into your hole, smirking at your reactions.

You huffed, your fingers clawing the table and a tight sound escaping him as Jason pressed his slick fingers into your hole. When Jason felt like you were loose enough he pulled his fingers out and slowly started to pull out his cock.

You were now impatiently waiting as Jason took his sweet time. When you finally heard Jason pull his cock out, he started teasing your hole with his tip. You gasped as you felt his tip teasing your hole.

“Last chance to tell me the information before I destroy your hole detective” Jason said.

“I-I’m not telling you s-shit” you said, still trying your best to stand your ground.

“You brought this on yourself” Jason sighed as he pushed himself all the way inside of you.

Jason slowly started to roll his hips, hearing as you whimpered. He started pulled out slowly, but suddenly he harshly slammed back into you, causing you to let out a loud moan. Jason gripped onto your hips tightly, undeniably leaving bruises as he ruthlessly pounded into you.

Pleasure took over your mind as you were being ruthlessly fucked by Jason on your desk. You were trying hard not to moan too loud because your co-workers were right outside the door, and god forbid if one of them came inside your room. Jason however, did not like the fact you were trying to silence yourself, so he started thrusting faster and deeper, hitting your prostate.

While Jason was pounding you, he hit a particular spot that made you let out a loud moan. He smiled to himself before pulling out and then ramming down on the same spot repeatedly. You were a mess at this point, you were begging for him to fuck you harder as sweat coated your body. And before you knew it, you were mindlessly muttering out the information.

“W-warehouse… Ah! At- p-please~ M-Miller Harbor…” you mumbled.

Jason chuckled to himself. You, a detective with a phenomenal reputation, falling apart and becoming a whiny mess just because of Jason. You could feel ever pulsing vein on Jason’s cock as he fucked you.

You see, before this whole fiasco happened, Jason was doing some research on you. He found out all sorts of things about you, one of them being that you were in the running to be the next captain. So while he was thrusting into you, he thought why not taunt you with this information.

“Do you really think they’ll make you captain after this? Gotham’s best detective giving out information, just because he’s being fucked like a slut” Jason smirked against your neck.

You were as dicked down as one could be, the tie around your eyes was soaked in your tears, flushed cheeks, shaky legs, bruised hips, and covered in your own sweat. But you still managed to cling on to a bit of information, which was pretty impressive.

Jason could tell you were close, but he could also tell you still had pieces of information that he wanted. So he gripped onto your cock so that you couldn’t cum, and pounded faster. He pulled your hair so that your head was up against his shoulder.

“I know you’re close, so why don’t you just tell me a bit more information and I’ll let you cum detective” Jason whispered as licked up and down your neck.

You tried, you really tried to hold on, but the combination of Jason’s thrusts, and his mouth licking and biting at your neck and earlobe made you break.

“His first name is G-Gra-AH-nt, his last name is Mikhail, he came from R-russia and moved over to Gotham for weapon.. ngh… trading a drug deals j-just please let me cum!” You blurted.

“Good job, you earned it detective” Jason smirked as he started jerking you off at the same rate as his thrusts.

Before you knew it, you let out a loud whimper as you spilled your load all over Jason’s hands and your desk. Your brain was complete mush as Jason chased his release.

“S-so tight around my cock” Jason groaned.

Jason pulled your head towards his and pulled you in for a sloppy kiss as his one of his hands gripped tightly around your hips. He thrusted deeply into you, one last time before releasing his load into your wrecked hole.

Jason waited a moment to collect himself before pulling out. He chuckled as he watched his cum trickle out of your hole. He looked at his hands that was covered with your seed and tasted it.

“Damn, you got a pretty good load” Jason teased before cleaning both of you up.

After you were both cleaned up, Jason quickly left, leaving you there with the aftermath. You were too tired (your legs were too sore) to drive home at this point, so you decided to sleep in your office for the day.

When you woke up, let’s just say you were met with one of the worst days of your life. First, you had a really bad limp that would probably last weeks. Second, it turns out Jason took all that information and ended up putting the guy in Arkham Asylum. And third, he was getting all the praise for “solving the case all on his own”.

You were beyond angry. You had to get your payback somehow.

[serendipitous-girl]

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐭

⊱✿⊰ summary: your ex boyfriend is supposed to be dead, so why isn't he?

⊱✿⊰ warnings: mentions of death, tortue, jason is more aggressive, reader is shorter than jason, this is kinda short sry

⊱✿⊰ notes: i tried my very best and I hope you like this! I loved the idea and I hoped to make this angsty and cute at the same time. Ily all

he was standing in front of you, all bulking muscle and all entirely alive. he was supposed to be dead, jason todd was supposed to be six feet under because you watched him get buried.

"did ya miss me?" he drawled, after the silence had stretched on for far too long. his lips spread into a grin, sharp teething glinting in the streetlights.

you stood silent, feeling like that person you were when you found out he died. it was like a piece of your soul was shattered, like jason took a chunk of your heart with him when he got kidnapped by the horrendous clown.

"what? cat's got your tongue?" he asked, squatting a bit so you were face to face. you stared at his face, examining every detail of his very alive person. his eyes were deep and haunted, if you delved in you'd surely drown in the despair he holds.

"how are you alive?" you asked, clutching your shirt as though you could prevent your heart from bleeding out of your chest. he shrugged, trying to hold onto his cocky and malicious attitude he was showing you.

"why does it matter? aren't ya happy to see me?" he grinned, hand brushing against your cheek. instinctively you leaned in, craving his touch even if he felt different. his once warm and loving hands were now cold and sinister. he had changed.

"of course i am, i just....don't understand what's happening. i was at your funeral, jason." you whispered, letting your arms drop to your sides. to his credit, his expression faltered like he was finally letting you see a glimpse of the kind boy he used to be.

"it's complicated. but im here now, baby." he said, softer this time, curling his hands around your face and resting his forehead against yours.

he was different, big and harsh, cold and traumatized. but he was loving the same, pressing you against his body and filling your heart with comfort you hadn't felt in years. he was the same boy you knew under all the rough layers of trauma and hurt.

lori © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything weird with my writing! i like reblogs and comments but please be kind as this was my writing.

[debonairprincesposts]

You: Bro-

Jason: No, no, hold up, rewind.

Jason: My tongue was down in your throat just a second ago and now you're calling me bro??

[eternallyhauntingthehouseoflove]

Hey, i read the “Bat-boys finding out your pregnant” and may i ask for more? It was sooo cute that i need more of it 😭💕

The Batboys fathers HCs

A/N: this request is long overdue that I’m sure the requester doesn’t even remember it, but I’ve arrived at last. I hope this is what they wanted. The Absolute Power run has restored my love for Nightwing and comics. ❣️

Dick Grayson is a fun dad. At first, Dick suffocated beneath the weight of fatherly duties. He wanted to be better than Bruce. Dick loved him, but he could admit that his boyhood wasn’t a salubrious environment for the young mind. No child should have to carry the weight of Bruce’s mission. Thus, Dick’s mission became ensuring yours and the baby’s lives were secure, safe, and joyous.

Pale beams of sunlight kissed your cheeks good morning. The aroma of maple syrup wafted throughout the house, tickling your nostrils as you carried yourself down the stair steps, footfall by footfall. There Dick stood at the stove, scooting the black spatula beneath a golden pancake and flipping it into the air, causing your baby to burst out into a fit of giggles before the pancake hit the skillet with a sizzle. He was proud of himself for making his baby laugh.

“Well, well, look at mama.” A grin crept across his lips as he spotted you creeping closer, supernovas bursting in his electric blue irises.” You were snoring in a pool of drool when I awoke, so I grabbed the baby and started breakfast.” Vibrant seas of pacifiers, rattles, and toy pianos adorned the house.

Dick attempted to rush the developmental process. Not out of callousness, but sheer excitement to have a child. He had already stocked the baby in dolls, trucks, pacifiers, fruit snacks, apple juice (watered down, of course). He even installed a nightlight that short circuited the house at first, but Bruce helped him fix it. Reading is good for the baby right? Dick is on it. He’s already ordered the best and most classic tales; Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, Alice in Wonderland, Dr. Seuss, Little Red Riding Hood.

Dick Grayson has read multiple novels on fatherhood, motherhood, child development, postpartum depression. He hates surprises, and babies are the breeding ground of surprises. He will pack the go-bag full of onesies, pacifiers, diapers, wipes, toys because he doesn’t want you to be in public and not have the materials.

“Give me a few days to install the new changing table. You’ll love it.” Crimson blush adorned his tanned cheeks, a proud grin dawning on his lips, showcasing his pearlescent teeth.” It broke when I weight checked it, thank god. Damian, albeit reluctantly, is coming out here tomorrow to translate the instructions.”

Jason Todd is the protective, paranoid father because he’d placed a bullet in the worst humanity had to offer, witnessed otherworldly horrors done to the little guys, the folks who lack billions of dollars to hole up on secluded islands and cabins. He can’t eradicate all the scum, can’t caulk the fractures villains seem to keep slipping through—and that terrifies him.

Jason never imagined a life worth living to be possible. He’d thought himself a sentient zombie, an unlucky boy yanked from the eternal peace of a cold, soundless grave and forced to enact vengeance on behalf of the common folk who lack the means to undertake the mission themselves. He never considered Red Hood to be a hero; merely a restless phantom with nothing else to bide his time until the sweet release of the afterlife deigned to shatter his manacles to the mortal world. That was until he’d fallen over the sun, offering endless devotion to his goddess, and you’d rewarded his offering with a daughter, a lovely girl. He’d abduct the moon and wrap it in a silken bow if only you’d give him permission.

“Catch, papa,” your daughter had called out, retrieving the little football and sprinting toward him, tiny feet carrying her over the damp and verdant grass of y’all’s backyard. Jason never brought the both of you to parks—an excess of people to watch, different personalities and behaviors; a myriad of possibilities for tragedy. Too much room for error in a vast, leafy expanse.

“You’ve gotta bring it to me first,” Jason called back, outstretching his muscular arms, awaiting her arrival. He was paranoid and distrustful of the world, not a killjoy. Y’all’s daughter’s bedroom was littered with vivid nail polishes, fluffy scarves, glittering tiaras, and Monster High dolls. Your daughter had always adored Frankie Stein and Frankenstein because they reminded her of Jason and herself, the dolls and humans both sharing pale white streaks of hair. He hadn’t known whether to laugh or weep upon hearing those words from her lips, innocent and completely unaware of the accuracies spanning far past hair color.

“Jason, I love you, but we are not cooping ourselves up in the house this summer.” The words were firm and unyielding—but lacking any true bite.

“ I’ve given you grace. I let a lot slide because I understand your background. But we’re just not doing it this summer. Its too hot to not go to waterparks and enjoy ourselves because of possibilities.” A damn good point rested upon your tongue, and he knew it.

“Fine.” He relented with a jocosely petulant huff.” But we take a gun with us.”

Tim Drake is an ambitious father. It’s been said before, but I don’t believe he’s as active as the fandom would believe. Though, his absence isn’t born of malice or indifference, but ambition, a thirst for a legacy. He wants to be a man his significant other and child can be proud of, a father worth bragging about. There’s also a large chamber seated within his mind that knows not how to be a father, for his parents were cold, choosing to throw dollars at his gripes and needs rather than be present.

One of his greatest fears is disappointing the both of you, like he was disappointed by his own parents, so disappointed he couldn’t even despise them. Tragically, the mission to avoid history’s repetition had placed him before a mirror, his parents gazing back at him, a smug smirk curled on their lips because they know that he’ll be on their end of the glass within a few decades.

Can he be blamed? Tim wants the absolute best for his family. The best grades, the best schools, the best scores, the best scholarships. He’s not naïve enough like Dick to believe hard work and persevere can lift a nobody anywhere. There are no bootstraps to be pulled taut. It’s an illusion, a sauce wealthy people spoon over their meals to disguise the taste of nepotism and privilege. Manipulations the rich regurgitate to excuse themselves from having to acknowledge the unfair, biased system they’ve upheld.

The door to his limousine slammed closed, his child seated beside but, but farther than ever. What could be said? Jerking forward, the limousine rolled into drive, coasting beneath autumn streaked clouds, as though her father had gifted her the sky from a florist. Bruce hadn’t prepared Tim for the teenaged terror years. He couldn’t help but wonder if he himself had been this capricious and fickle as a teen, or if he were merely that bad of a father.

“Do. . . do you want a Milkshake? From that one place by the house, like we used to when you were young.” Tim couldn’t help but raise a hopeful raven shaded brow. He could smell the stench of sweat, an anxious perspiration, cleaving to your school uniform. It must’ve been a test day.” I’ll clear the rest of my schedule for us. . . if you want, of course.” He extended an olive branch, granting her the choice to engage and accept, or set the course for the rest her teenage years.

Damian Wayne does not want children. He doesn’t know how far his taint would bleed, and all he can envision are the ways he could disgrace the mind of a child. His village was rotten and evil. Bad fruits bear worse seeds.

Damian’s devotion was love, the purest kind he knew, a primal desire to protect and cherish that of which he adored. You forged suns in his heart, set the butterflies in his belly aflutter. Beneath a weeping of sheet of violet sky, the both of you had sworn to love the other until Earth imploded—and when it did, he would find you in another universe.

He doesn’t hate children. In fact, he would be a decent babysitter for Dick and Jason, and whenever Tim deigned to grace the BatCave with his presence. But, Damian is staunch in his childfree attitude, and you respect it. Truthfully, you weren’t even sure you wanted kids. No, you and Damian battled crime, traveled the world and experienced culture, learned histories outside of the filth pumped into his mind by the Al Ghuls. Bruce was saddened by Damian’s decision against children, but he ultimately respected it—and him.

Damian knew he was poisoned and rotten and always would be, no matter what emblem was sewn over his breast. He was content with the life the both of you had, and knowing Dick, many more children are to come, so he’d never get lonely.” Beloved, what do you make of Italy? Not the tourist parts where the history is washed, but the ripe lands.”

Bruce Wayne is a weary father. He knew the birth of his youngest child was redemption, his last chance at preserving the Wayne name since Damian had sworn off children. But Bruce was aged, hardened, jaded, weary. He had scars to last a lifetime, some worn on his heart, though majority were worn on his skin.

The Wayne brownstone was eerily silent since Alfred’s death. Bruce’s son sat around the oaken table, coloring a picture of Superman, Wonder Woman, Batman, and Alfred. Bruce’s heavy lids fell over exhausted, dim blue irises, his brain flitting back to the memories of Alfred, gathered at the stove and learning a recipe. I am. . . old, Master Bruce. My time on this earth is not infinite. You must learn more than the ways of fists, the words echoed in his mind. Reminding him that old age wasn’t even the murderer of Alfred Pennyworth.

He fetched an inhale before pulling himself off of the couch, and padding over toward his son at the dinner table.” What’s that? Oh, a pretty picture. A real artistic talent, like Damian.” Bruce was unsure of his fathering more often than not. He knew how it appeared to his son’s school counselors and the principal—old, washed up playboy Bruce Wayne saddled with another young son. That was far from the case, but the masses will believe anything when they’re given nothing.

Bruce fetched a pot and skillet from the creaking cabinets of the brownstone, far from the elegance and cleanliness of the manor. Alfred would’ve been mortified to see the mess, he almost chuckled, but withheld it. Lest his son raise a question, for the explanation would be too complicated and long-winded for his young mind.” So, what do you see for dinner tonight? What makes that belly growl like a lion? Mac and Cheese? Lasagna? Hamburger Helper?”

Bruce knew exactly what his son would choose. Asking was merely a courtesy. Bruce knew him, raised the boy from the minute he was weaned. He knew what his son would do before his son knew what he himself would do. The Batman wasn’t a slacker, wasn’t lazy.

[smutinlove]

random jason todd headcanons

•jason is so touch starved and he's scared to touch you himself. my pookie bear just wants to be hugged and loved <3

•he isn't clingy. but when he's drunk, that's a whole different story. like that man with grab you by your waist, hold your hand, and take you to pound town

•he'll randomly get drunk and text you, "I love you. I need you. 'wanna hold you so bad and touch you" and then twenty minutes later, dick will text you a picture of jason half-passed out on his bed, saying, "come get your man, bitch."

•before every mission or patrol, he'll kiss you and say some corny shit like, "I love you to the moon."

•i feel like he would definitely pop a hip randomly. and he looks hot.

•this man is THE leader of the sassy man apocalypse.

•he's so traumatized and avoids talking about it. like baby, we love you. us jason todd girlies are gonna go to war for him and he's all: no one loves me... I LOVE YOU

i would kill for jason todd

[redr0sewrites]

Werewolf!Jason Todd Imagine

🥀A/n: veeeerrry self indulgent. happy late birthday jason todd my beloved!!!

🥀Cw: afab!reader, filthy smut, werewolf kink (?), switch!jason todd, dom/sub dynamics, overstimulation, very slight sub/ puppy kink on jays end if u squint, breeding kink, porn w no plot, grinding, masturbation, knotting, oral (m and f receiving), size kink

🥀minors dni

Jason was shocked at how well you took the news that he was a werewolf. he expected you to be outraged, or worse, break up with him. intrigue- and maybe even arousal- was certainly not the reaction he had expected.

with you being a human, Jason was very adamant about not hurting you during sex- especially when it came to knotting. he explains that not only is he bigger than most, but during a full moon, or worse, a rut, he changes.

the first time you sleep together, he's so nervous, all slow and gentle, prepping you for at least an hour and making you cum twice before practically splitting you in half on his cock. he's all sensitive and needy, struggling to stay in control as his primal instincts battle against his self awareness.

he wants nothing more than to flip you over and fuck you senseless, breed you 'till your carrying his pups, and yet, he waits. even wheb you both begin sleeping together more frequently, Jason cares about you more than anything else, and he pushes down his desires in favor of your comfort. that doesn't mean they aren't still present, and a horribly timed rut coinciding with a full moon certainly doesn't help matters.

Jason is powerless to his own hormones, and at first he's telling you to stay away, trying to handle it on his own. you can tell he's desperate from the straining rasp of his voice behind the door to your bedroom, and after some pleading on your part, he finally lets you in- and what a sight to behold. his cock is already at full mast, twitching against his abdomen. his hand is still wrapped around the base of his cock, and his most recent release is drying on his tip. he's so hard it hurts, his balls and knot aching to be inside you. the low baritone of Jason's voice rumbles across the room, beckoning you closer. your squeezing your thighs together at the mere sight of him, at how much his dick has grown in his half-transformation.

hes so big, you aren't sure you can even take him, but you know damn well you're going to try.

his heat is growing worse by the minute, and Jason is practically growling at you by the time you make your first move. he moves to the edge of the bed, watching you like an apex predator as you sink down on your knees between his strong thighs, admiring his toned body as you descend. his claws dig into the sheets, and just your breath on his cock has him practicing breathing excercises to prevent cumming too early. he's hot and heavy in your mouth, and you can barely fit his knot down your throat, let alone his entire cock. his full balls slap against your chin, and he lets out a low keen, almost a whimper, when you begin to suck him off.

Jason struggles not to take over and fuck your throat entirely, desperately trying to keep his hips from pistoning up off the mattress as you blow him. a clawed hand nestles on top of your head, gently but firmly controlling your movements.

it isn't long before his first orgasm of the night is approaching, hightened by his hypersensitivity. the sight of you on your knees in front of him, all sweet and innocent and desperate to help him out has him emptying his load down your throat in just a few minutes.

"fffuuck- oh fuck, baby-" Jason moans, thighs twitching as you swallow his cum. his grip loosens on your hair as he moves to cup your cheek. you pull away, leaving a trail of spit between his tip and your lips. Jason growls at the sight, pulling you up onto the bed with frenzied haste.

"i need to taste you..." he murmurs, directing you to lay down. Jason watches you squirm towards the head of the bed, peeling off your own clothes in anticipation. "stay there," you coo, tossing your panties to the side, leaving you completely bare. "wouldn't want you to be an impatient pup, would we?" you tease, and he whines under his breath. he watches your little show with mock amusement, ignoring the desperate ache in his cock when you begin to mischievously tease yourself. at the sight of your glassy eyes and spread folds he groans, your fingers, tiny in comparison to his, rubbing swift circles on your clit combined with your scent overwhelms his senses.

"stop teasing," he murmurs, but doesn't move. "aw, can't have a little self control? what are you gonna do about it?" you whisper, spreading your legs wider and curling a finger inside. you moan out his name and make direct eye contact, watching how his eyes darken as you continue to touch yourself. his self control wavers for a second, then snaps completely.

he crawls towards you on the mattress, animalistic with need as he parts your thighs, revealing your glistening cunt, already wet from your ministrations. you pull your hands away, noting how his pupils expand at the sight of you. your chest heaves as his hand makes its way down your navel towards your clit. his free hand grips hard on the skin of your thigh, holding you in place and leaving crescent marks in its wake.

"should punish you for teasing me like that," he murmurs, his breath hot against your cunt. "y-you wont," you quip, spreading your legs just slightly to accentuate your words. "you're too needy. like a bitch in heat," you coo, and Jason curses before pinching your clit between too fingers. his claws provide extra stimulation, almost painful but not quite, and you let out a yelp of pleasure.

in response, you move to touch him, but he shakes his head. "hands off, 'want you t'focus on me," he slurs, leaning down on his stomach to inhale your scent. you stubbornly oblige, realizing how truly needy he is, and bring your hands up above your head so you can watch him intently.

Jason begins by circling your clit with his thumb, his claws gently grazing your sensitive skin. entranced by the sight of your pussy fluttering and clenching around nothing, he leans down to press a soft kiss against your aching cunt before licking a stripe up towards where he's circling your pearl. his pace never slows as he sloppily makes out with your pussy, sucking and swirling his tongue against your entrance while simultaneously rubbing harsh circles on your clit. his claws tease against your thigh, and you realize that he's humping the mattress as he's eating you out. he's so far gone he doesn't even realize, and the sight of his hips rocking against the bed in time with his tongue makes your cunt clench.

the coil in your gut tightens as you try to warn him of your upcoming orgasm and he shushes you, the soft vibrations of his words against your pussy making you buck your hips. "cmon, baby- ffuck- give it t'me. please... need to taste you.." he moans, grinding down even harder against the mattress. Jason's tongue laps against your aching hole, sucking and swallowing your juices as the coul in your abdomen snaps altogether. with a stuttering moan he cums too, not even pausing as he continues to ride out both of your highs. your bordering on overstimulation as he keeps sucking on your abused pussy, and you try to squirm away, only for him to pull your cunt flush against his face once again.

"one more, please baby, jus' one more, don' wanna hurt you," he moans incoherently against your entrance. you nod, and he lets out a few murmured thank you's against your flushed inner thighs before diving his tongue back into your cunt. slurping and sucking, he works you up slower this time, watching you squirm slightly from overstimulation. your previous orgasm left you even more sensitive than before and he'll gladly use that to his advantage.

removing his hand from your pearl, Jason hones in on your clit with his tongue, swirling in ways that make you see stars. his grip is firm on your thighs, large claws sinking into your soft skin. he's practically purring between your legs, moaning and mewling about how delicious you taste and how badly he needs you.

his fat cock is already hard, but he restrains himself from humping against the bed. he wants to savor the feeling of entering your pretty pussy, and edges himself to the thought of cumming inside of you. his pace becomes more fervent as your orgasm approaches, causing you to whine and buck against him.

Jason whispers out soft praises against your cunt, bringing you to the edge for the second time. your orgasm is even better than the first, and your eyes roll back into your head as a wave of pure bliss washes over you. Jason fucks you through it, unrelenting with his tongue until your squirming away.

your juices coat his face, and he doesn't hesitate to lick up the remains of your orgasm. you watch as he crawls up to you, capturing your lips with his own. you can taste yourself on his tongue, and it only makes you needier as Jason groans into the kiss. his cock is painfully hard and pressing against your thigh, and he pulls away to look at you with a pitiful expression.

"please, need to be inside you, ma," he begs, and you don't hesitate to allow him. "of course, baby, take what you need," you coo, cupping his face as he trembles. the pet name makes his cock twitch, and he struggles to restrain himself from fucking you right then and there. "are y'sure? i don't want t' hurt you.." he trails off, rubbing circles on your hips with his claws. your quite aware of the lust thrumming beneath the surface of his seemingly calm demeanor, the twitching of his fat cock and the consistent, slight rocking of his hips against your thigh gave him away.

"oh jay, you're so sweet, too good f'me, my pretty boy.." you coo, and he swallows hard. you gently push on his chest, flipping him over on his back. he's huge, all muscle and strength, and yet he melts from just your simple touches. you straddle him, and his head short circuits as everything around him starts to become fuzzy. when you take control it's like his head is filled with honey, leaving him all dazed and submissive for you. his eyes are wide and glassy as you situate yourself above his cock, teasing him by grinding down on him before slowly aligning his enlarged tip with your entrance.

"relax, honey. be a good pup f'me and take a deep breath," you coo, slowly starting to sink down on to his dick. Jason twitches at the feeling of your warm cunt beginning to suck him in. it takes everything in him to be a good boy, to not buck up into you and fuck you senseless 'till your drooling and whimpering, fucked full of his cum and begging for more more more-

Jason keens, struggling to differentiate between fantasy and reality while you struggle to take him in. his knott is thick, and his cock is bigger than ever before, which is to say, nearly impossibly huge. you can tell he's already too far gone to realize how much his cock is twitching, or even realize how he's shallowly humping up against you. his head is already so fuzzy, desperate to be inside you, but he doesn't want to hurt you either.

you swallow hard, gritting your teeth through the pain of the stretch as you sink farther down his cock. you're almost halfway there and Jason is already babbling, claws digging hard into your hips and hybrid ears pricked upwards. you brace yourself on his tummy, sinking down further until you've not only engulfed his knot but halfway down his length. Jason lets out a strangled whine, and you meet his desperate gaze.

"ffuck- can i- can i move, please, y'taking me s'well, wanna mate with you-" he babbles, claws digging into your skin in desperation. "mngh- not y-yet, baby, still gotta take you inside me," you manage out, and Jason nods, flushing an even deeper red at how needy he sounds. he's trying desperately not to blow his load and cum too quickly, but you're making it soo hard the way you're squeezing and fluttering around him.

you bite down hard on your lip, determined to take him to the hilt. you can tell Jason is nearing his breaking point, you know how painful his rut can be and you don't want him to wiat any longer. taking a deep breath, you sink down further and further, ignoring the pain of the stretch until your seated fully on his cock. Jason lets out a wanton moan, throwing his head back against the pillows as you grasp your bearings.

you slowly begin to rock back and forth on his cock, letting the pain melt into pleasure as his length reaches places you've never felt before. you let out a sharp whimper as his tip brushes your cervix, and Jason stills.

"wait- am i hurting you?" he gasps out between pants, immediately grabbing hold of your hips. "i don't want t'hurt you-" you cut him off with a kiss, struggling to control your breathing as his length twitches inside you. "no, honey, 'm ok, you're just so big, im not used to it," you admit, and Jason eyes you with worry. "are you sure? we can stop, i- i dont-"

"its okay, Jay, im okay, see?" you reply, trying to soothe his worries by increasing your pace. you immediately let out a soft moan as you grind down on his dick, and Jason follows suit. you can still see the anxiety in his eyes, when an idea strikes. you grab one of his large hands from your waists, bringing it to your stomach where an apparent bulge was forming from his size.

"fffuuck- see Jay? 'm not hurting, m just- o-oh- 'm so full, Jay, y'fill me so well.." you coo, increasing your pace yet again. Jason watches, mesmerized by the squelching sounds of your cunt with each thrust and the growing bulge in your tummy. Jason curses loudly, tears welling in his eyes as you flutter around him. "im so close Jay, fuck 'm so close," you whine, rolling your hips against his with increasing fervor. he lets out a near pathetic mewl, bucking his hips up against yours as tears stream down his face.

"oh fuck- shit, shit please ma im so close- mate with me please"

"o-oh- you can cum, baby, you can cum," you reassure him, grinding down harder as your release crashes through you. every nerve in your body is on fire as waves of ecstasy wash over you. you can barely breathe, barely think, everything replaced with him, him, him. the sight of you gushing around his cock and squeezing him like a vice brings Jason to the edge, and he cums in tandem with you, filling your pretty cunt with his seed and babbling out your name like a prayer.

"y'so good Jay, so so good f'me," you gasp out, slowing to a stop as overstimulation begins to overcome you. Jason, too incoherent to reply, merely nods, and you chuckle softly at his fucked-out state. his cock hasn't returned to its usual size, still swelled inside your heat. you don't make an effort to pull away, and neither does Jason, content in staying joined together for the time being. you lay down on his chest, matching your breathing to his as exhaustion weighs over you.

"thank you," Jason rumbles, hands running up and down your sides. "thank you so- hic- much-" you realoze he's crying softly, and the realization makes you tear up too. "why are we crying?" you ask, and he laughs. "i don't even know- i just love you so much," he replies, and you laugh too. you aren't sure if you're giggling or sobbing, but you do know that you're exhausted. you nuzzle into his neck, and Jason gently kisses your cheek.

"go to sleep," he murmurs. "you're human body can't take much more."

"oh, shut it," you reply, but don't argue. as you melt into his embrace, you let sleep slowly claim you, knowing that you'll clean up in the morning.

hhheeeyyyy guys. my only explanation is im ovulating rn. so. erm. yippee!!! 3k words of werewolf smut!!!!

[sunny-arts-blog]

Firm believer that Jason wears shitty pink heart boxers