#jason todd/plus size reader

[ms-nesbit]

moulin rouge (chapter 2 of empire records)

a jason todd x reader fic

summary: reader and jason embark on their second date at the Gotham Library, where Jason indulges reader on a secret.

rating: 18+ (minors kindly fuck off)

warnings: masturbation, sex worker!jason todd, cam model!jason todd, reader is plus/mid size

ao3

note: please support by reblogging, and don't be a dick by reposting elsewhere! thank you so much!

Whistling wind carrying Jason’s loose strands of hair to and fro on his head, mimicking a wind vane atop a tall barn, he strolled peacefully toward the brick building’s double doors, pulling them wide open (without the assistance of the turbulence - wretched equinox) before entering.

Jason was no stranger to the library, and he nodded to the librarians at the circulation desk, who (uncharacteristically) stopped to all wave at him; he was a frequent patron, and attended whatever event he was able. “High noon, Fred!” he beamed at the security guard upon passing through the theft-deterrents that failed to draw up to Jason’s figure, making it to his torso.

Fighting his instinct to tread to the third floor and sit in his unassigned seat near the retired fireplace, Jason planted his steel-toed feet to the ground, second guessing his outfit choice. “Oh, look at you!” A librarian walked by, commenting on Jason’s attire. “Are you going out this evening, Mr. Todd?”

“Just have someone I’m seeing in a few minutes, Luz.” Jason replied, wiping down his mahogany button up. “How ya doin, though?”

Luz stopped her mission to the circulation desk, various media in hand, as she pondered, sticking out one of her mustard flats. “Probably nothing as exciting as what you’ve got going on. Oh, to be young!” she suspired jokingly, walking away. “Good luck!”

“Thank you!” From a young age, Jason was taught by his adoptive father’s butler to speak to elders with respect, especially in a formality such as the library. He disagreed with many of his father’s views, eventually leading to the pair having a final quarrel before Jason’s departure from Wayne Manor and into the Gotham flats.

In fact, it was why Jason stumbled into camwork in the first place: he found himself quitting each and every dead-end shift, arguing with the boss or co-workers. Jason was a hothead, escalating otherwise mundane and calm situations simply because he was tired of feeling trapped by others. 

Perhaps y/n felt that way, too. Even if she hadn’t, it seemed she respected his space, something that most close to him refused to do. “Jason?” he responded to the voice behind him like a dog upon his owner’s arrival, tail wagging. When he turned, his eyes laid on y/n, wearing knee-high platform boots, sienna tights underneath an umber A-line skirt decorated with paperclips, a rust-colored top under a leather jacket, and a thick knitted scarf in deep brown.

Y/n was an angel rejected from heaven, bestowed upon Jason, and he could not shake the downright corrupt images that projected in his mind. “Wow.” he said, hiding the other words under his tongue for later.

Y/n checked him out unabashedly, licking her lips. “I could say the same, Jaybird. What do you wanna do here? Read me a bedtime story?” she wiggled her eyebrows comically, triggering a blush from the tall man before her.

“Well, you chose somewhere you go to often, so now it’s my turn. May I?” Jason extended his elbow for y/n to take, and led them to the elevator, where Jason punched the Four that was missing its vowels on the button.

If it wasn’t for the guidelines previously set, y/n would have jumped his bones in the elevator, ignoring the security cameras that would have recorded the uncensored evidence. “So you come here often?” the sentence was worded deliberately, a juxtaposition to her compassionate voice.

“I have since I was little. Helped a lot to just disappear in a story, as much as it sounds like a line for a goddamn Hallmark greeting card.” Jason rolled his eyes at himself.

“What did you read?”

The elevator dinged and doors opened, gesturing for y/n and Jason to vacate the confined space. Jason led y/n past the rows of encyclopedias and historical archives and into a crossroads of shelves divided by a set of armchairs. He walked at a sharp angle with y/n, leading her away from the world and into his nook, where his lounge chair waited for him.

And there it was, in front of the decommissioned fireplace. Jason pulled out the other chair for y/n, which she sat in, before pushing it lightly and sitting in the one adjacent to hers. Immediately, as if at home, he reclined and shut his eyes, inhaling deeply.

Y/n watched closely as he made himself comfortable. His lips parted and adam’s apple bobbed, reminding her of the videos she stared at the night before, Jason’s hand slowly stroking his cock, head thrown back, letting out guttural, obscene noises. Y/n shifted uncomfortably in her seat, moisture collecting in her underwear.

“When I was a kid, I thought librarians lived here.”

The confession came out of nowhere, and it drew a chuckle from y/n. “Like with teachers?”

Jason nodded. “Yep. And I, for some fucking reason, built this fort in the corner by the fire exit. I remember my dad and Alfred looking for me for hours, even calling the police because they thought I ran away again.” he smiled, eyes still closed, and it warmed y/n’s bosom. “One officer came right by me and put out his hand for me to take, and I was freaking out, y’know? ‘Cause fuck cops, right?” Y/n nodded in solidarity. “And I bit his hand. I bit it.”

Y/n erupted into laughter, which was quickly hushed by Jason. “No fucking way.”

“Way.” Jason’s eyes shot open and looked directly at y/n with as much seriousness as he could. “And he cussed and swore, saying ‘fuck’ this and ‘fuck’ that, and it was the funniest shit I went through. Though at the time I was scared shitless because I just wanted to stay and sleep in the librarians’ home and see what they did after the library closed.”

Y/n gazed at Jason. She swore she heard a harp playing. “That is so dorky, but so…fucking romantic.” The response caused Jason to grin at y/n shyly, smile lines forming on his cheeks. “What happened?”

“Al‒my butler‒found me and talked me down from it. A couple of weeks later, he spoke with the district director, and they arranged for me to have a sleepover.”

“And?”

Jason took y/n’s hand in hers, bringing it to his lips to place a small kiss on the underside of her hand. “I pissed my pants in the sleeping comforter.”

Falling forward, y/n laughed silently, wheezes and snorts disturbing the peaceful atmosphere. She couldn’t contain herself, and why should she? Jason adored how pleasantly she felt in her skin, and it showed in that moment: her bright smile, full cheeks, broad hips wiggling in her seat…she’s an open book, and it inspired him to do the same.

But he hesitated. It was the battle he faced, him and his fears: he didn’t want to repeat the past, spend another week isolated and hiding from the sun in an attempt to starve and deprive himself from sanity. Jason knew he was attractive - his followers and bank account reflected it - but he was used for it. Misled, and then taken advantage of, and for what? Momentary bliss? Clout?

A cloud formed over his head as he began to swim in the pool of decrepit thoughts that gathered in him. Why was he used? Why wasn’t he enough? Would y/n treat him the same way? Paranoia was his kryptonite, but it was hardwired in him from his early childhood years spent in the streets, abused by his biological parents.

Y/n saw the gloominess ruminating on the tall man beside her, and she halted her laughter, cupping his chin with her hand. Jason felt the touch, skin burning hot, as he faced her. “I once was jealous of Ally Snow, the horse girl of our fourth grade class, so I accidentally committed arson to her camp bunk site.”

Jason’s jaw dropped, skies in his mind clearing before a funnel cloud could form. “Arson?!”

“Mmhmm.” Y/m hummed. “I was lucky that: a) Ally’s camp counselor bailed that night, because I may have miscalculated and lit fire to the counselor’s bunk, and b) nobody found the culprit.” her eyes may have been the blaze of fire itself with the way she glared at the ground in immense passion.

Jason patted her hand, her nails now clawing at his cheek. He temporarily thought of her nails digging into his back while he… he blinked away the thought. “So you weren’t caught?”

Y/n shook her head. “And I got to watch my best friend, Yessica, punch her in the fucking face the following fall.”

They sat in their chairs, alighting the fireplace with their embarrassing stories, taking turns laughing and poking fun at each other. Before they realized, the library announced its closing time soon, and they gathered themselves, exiting the library in a fit of giggles. The librarians at the circulations saw this, and exchanged knowing looks, telling without words being spoken.

“Can I see you again soon?” it was y/n’s turn to ask when they stepped down from the platform of the library.

Jason stepped forward, closing the gap between them as he pulled her into a kiss, their lips locking instantly. “Anytime.” he grinned when he pulled away, their faces mere inches from each other.

—-

One notification. 

Y/n checked her phone as she closed her loft door, tossing her keys on the kitchen table nearby. Do you want to do something specific for our next date? Food? Entertainment? Guns? Riots?

Y/n smiled and rolled her eyes at the question. I’m down to clown at a riot. Maybe a clown riot? Dunno how that would go though.

A reply appeared. Fuck clowns. I’d rather be dead than be seen with one. How about a cemetery for our next date? Picnic?

Abso-fucking-lutely. y/n agreed, her heart fluttering at the idea of a moonlit picnic at the Gotham cemetery. She spun as she held her phone close to her chest, before another notification appeared.

Robin Hood is now live! Tap to check in now.

Thoughtlessly, y/n tapped the badge on her phone, opening an app she downloaded a few days ago to streamline Jason’s webcam streams.

The stream began in a dimly lit room with tools hung on the wall in the background. Y/n squinted at the array of tools, recognizing the brand. “You gonna make me beg, Baby? Make me beg to come? Hmm?” the words shook y/n, no longer distracted by the Craft tool kit hanging neatly on the wall, and eyes fixating on the tall brunette stripping himself from his button up and slacks.

Y/n watched closely, so closely, she worried, she didn’t blink - she soaked in the sight of Jason’s fingers finagling with his own clothes, revealing himself to her in an intimate way as he spoke so titillatingly. For a man with an intimidating figure, he was so submissive, and y/n wanted to explore it as much as he allowed.

Right now, it was about him though, and Jason was already stripped from his slacks, which gathered by his ankles on the ground, his shirt unbuttoned, but still worn. “Come on, Princess. Make me come, please.” the begs were earlier than last time, and y/n hoped she was the source, listening with open ears for her name to be called, chanted so beautifully like last time.

He didn’t stroke his cock this time, either; he thrusted into it, head tilted back to expose his neck, the adam’s apple bobbing again. He donned a flushed face that was so euphoric, y/n wished he could open his eyes so she could swim in his glossed over irises. “‘M gonna come, fuck.” his breath wavered, thrusts methodical but ruthless.

It was obvious he wanted y/n, and the feeling was mutual, y/n resisting the urge to touch herself until after she saw him reach his breaking point. And it was soon. “G-god,” he whispered shakily, “y/n” he was louder with the name, calling to her as if she was watching, “please let me come.” the words carried so much weight, so heavy as they fell into y/n’s ears, as if he wanted her to tell him to come.

And she opened up the chat, which was flooded with comments about the ‘mystery girl’ Jason was thinking about, or sexual compliments that made her blush. Wanting the command to be more intimate, she opted for a text message instead: come for me, Jason. Let me see you come.

His phone chimed and he read the notification, his hips increasing with speed. “You like seeing my cock like this? Want me to come? I’m gonna come so hard for you.” his grip tightened around his cock as he pistoned his hips, mouth falling open as moans filled the room. “Oh, y/n,” he whined, “yes!” he whimpered, voice unsteady as his hips finally slowed, cum spilling from his cock. His orgasm was powerful, taken from him too soon - yet not soon enough for him - and the sight of his blissed out state was too much for y/n to handle, who rushed to her bed to rub her clit at the thought of him.

[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.”

[trashland-llamas]

Body Pillow

x gn reader

Jason who comes home after patrol, just wanting to cuddle up to y/n in their shared bed, in their shared apartment. There's a wooden bench with a few milk crates underneath it for him to strip out of his gear. A sorta makeshift mud room. His helmet, masks, and weapons are the first to go.

Jason groans as he bends down to shuck off his shoes, not bothering to even unlace them. His pants follow suit as he sits back up. Jason basks in the moonlight for a moment, letting himself feel the soreness of his muscles, before bracing his hands on the wood to stand up. His loud footfalls echoes through the hallway.

'Oh, sweet cheeks,' Jason croaks, spotting his lover koala bear hugging a body pillow. Clad in underwear and a t-shirt that does nothing to cover their ass. Gently untangling their limbs to take the pillow's spot. It's not a difficult task with y/n still deep asleep.

'Cuddling you is my job, not some damn pillow.' Jason's words have no bite to them. 'Hmm,' y/n sleepily hums, nuzzling their head into his chest akin to a cat. 'Jay?' The familiar smell of gunpowder tickled their nose.

Taking a few deep breaths. 'I'm here, go back to sleep hun,' kissing the top of their hair. Rubbing circles into their skin, his fingertips traced along the stretch marks he finds on their sides. Y/n heeds his words, closing their eyes. Safe in the city that was Gotham.

Jason almost questioned if this was real. He fought against the phantom sandman, desperately not wanting to wake up to an empty bed. Yet the warmth of their body told him this was real. That they were really here and this simply wasn't a dream.

'Go to sleep Jay, m'not going anywhere...you's stuck with me.'

[creamedcup]

size kink go crazy in missionary

[lxvvie]

Couples Shit with Jason MF Todd:

Your relationship with Jason is, to the outside world, the definition of the word frenemy. In truth, you two absolutely love to rag on each other as a pastime while, y'know, being a couple.

Jason gives as good as he gets and vice versa. You can and have gotten the better of him, though, and all he can do is snort, go, "Holy shit," and try to play it off like he's not fucking dying of laughter. Good one, baby.

You and Jason complaining about how the other takes up space... but that's all you two do. You don't do fuck all to change it, you just complain for the sake of complaining. While all up in each other's space and enjoying it. This usually occurs in the bed or on the couch. ("Did you mean to sleep up under me, Jay?" "Sure did. Get used to it.")

Jason talking maaaad shit about your tastes in TV, music, what have you, but somehow seems to know just as much, if not more, about said things you indulge in. Call him out and he'll call bullshit.

Similarly, you talking cash trash about Jason's "old man" tendencies. Very funny, sweetheart. Drinking your coffee black can be good for you. ("That's not what I'm talking about and you know it, Jason.")

Conversely, also encouraging Jason to rest comfortably in his basic bitch™ era which he claims is nonexistent (embrace the basic bitch within, Jason!) but the way he uses your Stanley cup more often than not says otherwise lmao.

Intimacy (not sex) being one of the deliberately slow and steady aspects of your relationship. Sure, Jason is a very touchy-feely when it's you two by yourselves but affection and vulnerability were two things that took some getting used to, especially on Jaybird's end.

Ironically enough, he's like a fucking cat when he's with you. Affection? Cuddles? Disgusting. Give him more, baby. Scritches on his scalp? Well, what the hell are you waiting for? Side eyes of epic proportions? Don't mind if he does.

Jason being in the doghouse whenever he comes home banged and bruised up. Yeah, baby, he promised he'd be careful but shit. Even though you're mad—it's more anger born of worry—you're always there to help patch him up. He doesn't give a fuck how much pain he's in, he still wants his cuddles, though. ("C'mere...")

Being banned from watching Jason exercise because you always make shit sexual and he's trying to concentrate and not get hard and/or laugh. You fuckin' tease. What the hell would he do without you?

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

For the Halloween requests

Fem!reader painting Jason’s face for a costume party? Maybe he’s flustered by how gently she handles his face while she works on him

Jason's eyes were fixed on the kitchen table, where you had emptied your makeup bag and the face paint you had bought for today.

For a second, a brief stupid second, he considered telling you to forget about the paint for himself. 'Doll yourself up, baby,' he wanted to say; but the words died down in his throat as he looked up at you.

Your pretty face was bare and freshly moisturized, and your eyes sparkled with excitement at the prospect of painting his face.

It wasn't the first time you would work on him like this, you had covered bruises with makeup for Jason more times than he was proud to admit. But this was different — this closeness felt new, incredibly intimate in the lack of rush on your behalf.

You held his chin, lifting his head to start on his forehead. He barely felt the sponge as you dabbed paint on his skin, movements as gentle as your touch.

His skin grew hot as you continued. Transfixed, he watched every twitch in your face, every tilt of your head as you found different angles.

"I'm gonna change color now," you announced, using the clean side of the sponge on the next color. "Need a water break?"

"No."

You didn't say anything else and simply resumed. Jason couldn't stop himself from gently resting his hand on your hip, making you smile softly. Your attention didn't stray from the task, though, you were committed to making him look just as he envisioned his costume one morning after an exhausting night as Red Hood.

"Close your eyes," you instructed him gently. The sponge hovered over his left eye, patiently waiting for him to comply.

Jason only closed his left eye, watching you with the right one. You gave him an amused look. As you carefully painted his eyelid, he found himself flushing once more, letting out a long sigh. You were so gentle with him, so patient — he could feel your love in the way you made sure not to rub at his skin, in the concentration lines etched on your forehead.

Once his other eye was done, you put the sponge away and picked up a brush. Before doing anything else, you gave his lips a sweet peck. His heart skipped a beat at the gesture, his hold on your hip becoming firmer, silently asking for something more, at least another little kiss.

You humored him, pecking his lips one, two, three more times. The last time your mouth lingered against his. "Gonna paint your lips now, okay?" you asked, giving him the chance to say no, to maybe kiss you until you were breathless first.

He found restraint within him, knowing you still had to get ready yourself. He only gave your lips a peck of his own, a silent reminder that kissing you was still his favorite thing in the world. He squeezed your hip for good measure, in the far-fetched case it wasn't clear, just to reassure himself he was putting effort into showing you how important you were to him.

The soft bristles caressed his lips in long strokes. When you were finished, you studied his face, resting your hand on the side of his neck.

"You look so handsome," you finally said.

"I'm supposed to look scary."

You stared at him, lips twitching as you tried not to smile. "Honey, I don't think that's possible."

[jasontoddsthickbabe]

Baby daddy Jason todd 😍 I would do anything for this man

[lovepeachh]

Chair.

Jason Todd x plus size! reader smut

In which Jason is the chair.

or

In which you aren't too heavy to sit on your bf's face after all.

Warnings: 18+ content, unprotected oral sex, cunnilingus, face sitting, use of the word fat (internal dialogue, not in a negative way, it's just that I, as a plus size woman, use that word and if that upsets you I get it, don't read but i refuse to let this be another 'you're not fat, you're beautiful, let me dick you down to show you that you're not fat and ugly' fic, because fat and beautiful are not exclusive terms. I love you, and I love how you look. You're beautiful, and it's not in spite of your body.)

Dividers from here

A.N.: Sorry for not writing recently, things have been a little wild. I had a concussion, a tropical storm came, both my sisters totalled their cars, got my wisdom teeth out, and now another hurricane is on the way. Anyway, here's some smut.

"Babe, there's no way I'm doing that, I'll hurt you. I'm too heavy." It wasn't that you were self conscious of your weight or anything, but you didn't exactly want Jason to die again, this time because of you and your fat girl pussy.

He raises an eyebrow at you, as if to say 'So you think I'm weak?'

"Baby, don't give me that, I'm a big boy."

"Well I'm a big girl and I'm not gonna suffocate you or break your neck."

"I mean, it's a lot better than how I went out the first time."

A silence.

"Not funny."

He sits you on his lap.

"Come on sweetie, we can just try it. And I'll tap your thigh three times if I need air or for you to get up for any reason. Scout's honor."

You roll your eyes. "You were never a scout."

"Eh, I was a robin. Close enough. Please?"

"Ugh fine. I'll sit on your face. Happy?"

It's a matter of minutes before he rips off your clothes and pulls you right on top of his face, eating you out like a starving man at a Thanksgiving buffet.

Goddamn. He was good at this.

He hooks his arms around your thighs and holds you in place while he laps at you until you writhe and squirm.

"Jay!"

You're not quite sure if the sound leaving his mouth is a laugh or a moan, but the vibration has.you seeing stars.

He laps and sucks at you as you near the edge.

"Ah-!"

All thoughts of being too heavy leave your mind. Because this man wants it bad. And he's tongue fucking you too good for you to think straight.

Your hips buck as he licks into you over and and over until you're coming all over his desperate face.

He laps up your release and keeps stimulating your abused cunt until you start to tremble. Then he releases you.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and presses a sticky kiss to your cheek.

"Still think you're too heavy?" he asks.

"Not for you." .

He laughs. "So we can do this again?"

You roll your eyes. "You're such a whore."

He kisses you. "Only for you, sweetheart."

You won't be doubting him again anytime soon. After all, what's a bit of fat when your boyfriend is built like a literal tank.

You shift in his arms, feeling something against your leg.

Oh.

"Care to help me out with that, sweetheart?"

[sanguineterrain]

okay i've had this thought brewing for a while and i think you're the only writer who would do it justice!

reader meets jason again post-lazarus pit and he's amazed by how different reader is look-wise. reader was a teenager the last time they saw jason and now as an adult they've gotten a more "adult" body. reader is curvier, fleshier, no longer as lean as they were as a teen and is a bit self conscious about their body. but it drives jason wild to see his old crush all grown up into this mature body, hell he's changed a lot too. but yeah i feel like jason would be so body positive and full of praise 🩷

decided to combine this with a request i got for this prompt: 8) we share the bed because this is what we’ve done since we were kids, regardless of the adult implications now. i so agree with you anon, i think jason would be simultaneously body positive and absolutely FERAL for his old/current crush ;)

jason todd x gn!plus-sized!reader. reader used to work with the bats and is best friends with jayjay. reader is insecure and speaks poorly about their body. jason does NOT like that and desires you carnally! wahoo! suggestive content but no outright smut.

****

You haven't been in Jason's room in five years.

Alfred's kept it pretty much the same. Same books on the shelves, same Gotham Knights sweatshirt Dick gave Jason for his birthday. The curtains are the same shade of maroon, and the left one has a tear from when you played with a batarang. Jason had covered for you and was grounded for a week.

You flip through a dog-eared copy of The Three Musketeers. A few of the pages have underlining in pencil. You trace them with your finger.

The door creaks open. You look up.

Jason freezes in the threshold. His wrist is bandaged and you can see stitches on his forehead. You frown.

"Hey." You set down the book and go to him, offering your shoulder for him to lean on. "You okay?"

Jason sighs, ignoring your shoulder. "Who called you?"

"What d'you mean? We're psychically linked, Jay-Jay. I sensed that there was trouble afoot in Gotham City."

"Uh-huh. That didn't work when you tried to convince the old man I needed a puppy because you psychically divined that it knew me in a previous life."

"You and that Terrier were soulmates and I'll hear nothing of the contrary."

You take Jason's arm, despite his protests that he can make it two feet to the bed. He lays down, trying to hide how his arm twinges in pain. You frown and slip in beside him.

Jason's a lot bigger than he was the last time you shared a bed. Well. You both are. You roll over so you're facing him, squished against his side. You pull your leg up, suddenly self-conscious about everything Jason might be able to see.

Jason is warm. He's warm and big and solid and good God, you've missed him.

Your best friend is also fucking gorgeous and you really want to kiss him, but, uh. Ignoring that. You're very practiced at ignoring the urge to kiss Jason.

"Thanks for comin'."

The light is still on, casting a soft orange glow across Jason's features. He glances at you, lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. You can count all the freckles on his nose, this close.

"I'll always come when you call, Jay," you say. "Well, when Dickie calls. Said you got a concussion."

He turns his head, sighing at the ceiling. "'S not a big deal. Mild concussion. Leslie said I'll be fine in a week, but we all know that's code for two days."

"Yeah, I don't think so. You bats really are birds of a feather."

"How dare you. 'M nothing like those wackos."

"Sure, buddy. Keep lying to yourself. You brought me in all those years ago for a little normalcy."

"My mistake," Jason says.

He gets thwacked with a pillow for that. It fluffs his curls. He grins at you.

You tuck in closer, resting your chin on his shoulder. Jason turns his head so his cheek rests on the top of your head.

"You can have the bed," he says.

"Don't be a silly goose."

"'M gonna go home anyway."

You scoff. "Not like this, you're not."

"Been worse for wear."

You roll your eyes. "How are you gonna ride your bike with a hurt wrist and a concussion, genius?"

"Please, babe. The real question is how will I sneak past Alfred?"

"I'm a babe, now?"

Jason half-smiles. "Always were."

"Liar. Can you imagine me in a Batsuit again? Exactly, you can't. I simply don't have the bod for it."

"Hey." Jason reaches down and gently pinches your thigh. "Why ya doin' that?"

"Doing what?"

"Talkin' bad about yourself. Don't do that. 'Sides, it ain't true."

"Jaybird." You level him with a look. "Be serious. I know you're my best friend and you have to say that, but c'mon. I've seen the hotties you work with. Hell, I've seen Bruce and Dickie."

Jason's face twists in disgust. "Do not call my dad and brother hot."

"Okay, fine. I've seen you."

His brows rise. "What?"

"What, what?"

"Are you... callin' me..."

You snort. "Duh. Have you seen yourself? You've always been cute, Jason. If you didn't have the demeanor of a honey badger, you'd be fending off marriage proposals left and right from the Gotham public. You've always been the prettier one of us, Jay-Jay."

Jason's quiet. You keep going.

"Anyway, neon's never been my color, and it seems like that's a pretty immovable requirement these days. Like, I get Clark's trying to be seen from space but he doesn't get bloated. And the Spandex? Goodness gracious—"

"Y'really see yourself like that?"

Jason's staring at you with a wrinkled brow, mouth set.

"Like what?"

"Like you're not pretty? Like I'm too good for ya?"

You prop your head up on your arm. "You've always been too good for me, Jason Todd."

"That's just not true. And you're fuckin' beautiful, so stop sayin' that shit."

You blink. "Jay, c'mon—"

"No. It's true, so stop. You're the most beautiful person I've ever had the pleasure to know, and if anybody's gettin' proposed to, it's you."

"Jason." Your face is on fire. Why did you open your mouth? "Stop. It's fine. So I'm different; my body's changed and shit. I'm not an athletic vigilante anymore. My thighs have, like, their own zip code. It's my own fault. I didn't keep up the training and whaa—!"

In one fluid motion, Jason's rolled you onto him. Your legs straddle his waist. You catch yourself on his shoulders, then begin to scramble off, burning with embarrassment.

"Sorry, I'm heavy, you're injured—" you babble, picking up your leg.

"Will you quit?" Jason keeps your leg exactly where it is, tenderly stroking your ankle with his thumb. "Actin' like I'm made of whipped cream."

"You're concussed."

"Mildly."

"Stop, Jason. Please. You don't have to do this to-to prove a point. I get it, I won't talk bad about myself."

Bit hypocritical, considering some of the stuff you know for a fact Jason believes about himself.

But this is humiliating, your extremely attractive, crime-fighting best friend pretending that you haven't totally let yourself go all to bolster your ego.

"Nah, I don't think you get it," Jason says conversationally. His hand creeps under your shirt. You squirm. "I really, really don't think you get how fuckin' gone I am for ya."

"Huh?"

"Oh, yeah. Now, that's my fault, never sayin' anything. I was being cowardly. So lemme make it clear for ya, sweetheart."

His hand leaves your ankle and pulls your face to his. And then Jason kisses you.

"You're concussed," you whimper against his mouth. "Jason, you're—"

Jason laughs, low and sweet. He strokes the side of your face. "I could have amnesia and I wouldn't forget the fact that I've been in love with my best friend since I was fourteen."

"Are you sure you don't want me to move? I can—"

"No way. Y'know how long I've wanted you on me? Shit, I sound like a creep, thinking 'bout you like that, but—"

Jason rolls you both onto your sides. He hefts your leg over his, so you're slotted between each other. Then he kisses your neck, mouth hot and desperate. You gasp, belly swooping.

How long have you wanted this? How long did you believe you'd never feel this way about another person after Jason?

"I can promise you," Jason says, breathing hard against your skin. "You're a knockout. You knock me out. And I'll knock out anyone who says otherwise."

You huff and get a little braver, kissing Jason and returning him onto his back. He grins, sharp and hungry. He wants you. There's no doubt.

"I still think you're concussed," you murmur, letting him feel up your shirt. "But lucky for you, I have the utmost sympathy for poor, bedridden bats."

Jason hums, grunting when your teeth scrape his ear. "Oh, I've always known I was the lucky one, having you."

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡Forgotten｡⋆.

Bruce Wayne x plus size reader

To love Bruce was risky and it was exhilarating but you weren’t ready to deal with its consequences when everything suddenly changed.

Warnings: angst, amnesia, injuries, unplanned pregnancy, fluff, i couldn’t help but add bat family shenanigans, hints of smut, scarecrow fear toxin, mentions of self-harm as a result of toxin, hospital visits/health scare, happy endings baby, age difference WC: 7k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You knew Bruce Wayne.

You knew the depth of blue in his eyes, the placement of every scar and mole and freckle on his body, the little cowlick at the back of his head that would only appear when he had gone too long without a haircut.

You knew he liked tea but only when he didn’t have meetings, his right shoulder locked up when it was cold and wet, he hated the beach but loved the ocean, he regularly brought home stray animals until he was 12, and he was a hopeless romantic.

And you loved each other deeply, so deeply that you felt like there was no colour in your world before him and he had no light in his before you. It had started out simply enough, you were his secretary. Fresh from your Masters program, you needed a job and he needed a new assistant after the retirement of his last one. You were hired on the spot with the promise that it would only be temporary until you got a job in your field. But that was almost 4 years ago now and you had no intention of leaving the man you had fallen so hard for, he guiltily admitted once that he did not want you to leave either.

There were countless date nights and sleepovers, weekend getaways and times where you would spend the entire day naked in bed. You saw each other almost every day and yet it ached when you were apart for even just a few minutes.

But no one else knew. 

Besides the fact that he was your boss and 10 years older than you, Bruce wanted to shield you both from his life as Batman and from the public eye. And you were terrified of the judgement of his family especially given that there was only a couple of years difference between you and his oldest kid. And it was fine, for a while at least. You got to exist in this perfect little bubble of love with the only man you could envision a future with, away from the harshness of your lives. 

As it must, the real world crashes down upon your little bubble, shattering it.

“Bruce! You have a meeting!” His teeth sunk into the column of your throat with a discontented grunt as he pressed his hips even closer to your own, his arms winding around your plush middle.

“They’re not as important as this.” The tip of his nose brushed against your pulse. You let yourself melt into his strong hold for just a moment, savouring the feel of his toned body against you like you always did when Bruce lathered you with attention. With one last squeeze around your torso, Bruce reluctantly let you go. His huge hands lingered on your wide hips as you shifted so you were now facing him.

“You’ve blown them off three times already, you have to go.” You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing along the 5 o’clock shadow that was already growing along his jaw.

“I’d rather you blow me off instead, sunny.” You smacked his chest as Bruce chuckled.

“Alright rein it in big boy, you’ll get your fill of me soon enough.” 

“I think you’ll find that it’s me that does the filling.” You glared at him and stepped away, making his hands fall from your body.

“Go, before I start to rethink about our ~plans~ for the weekend.” 

“Oh you fucking vixen. If I can sneak away from the boys tonight, you’re gonna be eating those words.” You spun on your heel, letting Bruce get a good look at your ass in the tight work skirt you knew he loved on you.

“I think you’ll find that you’ll be the one who will be eating. I’ll see you tomorrow Mr Wayne.” You cooed, not bothering to look back at him as you left Bruce standing in the middle of the hallway with a stunned expression and a straining in his pants.

——————

You were getting nervous now. You hadn’t seen Bruce in almost a week, which wasn’t unusual considering his ‘nightlife’ but to have no communication from him at all? That was completely out of the ordinary. There had been a message left on your office phone from his butler that Bruce had some business to attend to and would be unreachable for the foreseeable future but the way your stomach twisted in fear told you that something else was going on. He did not, in fact, sneak away that night to see you nor come to your apartment over the weekend as you both had planned. But there was nothing you could do without exposing your relationship.

So, you did what you could to keep WE functioning without him: misdirecting calls, charming impatient board members, even sending phoney emails from his account to placate people as with each passing day, that little spark of anxiety grew into a blazing fire. 

Then, at promptly 9 am on the sixth day of Bruce’s disappearance, your routine was disrupted once more. You were typing away at your computer, having been in the office for almost an hour already, when you heard the elevator doors slide open and the click of men’s formal shoes against the tile. You eyed the bottle of Tylenol on your desk, anticipating yet another headache from some prissy rich boy who couldn’t take no for an answer. But you froze as soon as an imposing figure turned the corner.

Your breath caught at the sight of him. Mostly unharmed, save for the wicked looking cut across his left eyebrow, he was dressed the same way he normally would, but there was something about his posture that was completely wrong.

“Bruce.” Your legs shook as you rose to your feet. His steely gaze flicked to you as he nodded politely, not even missing a beat in his stride.

“Miss Y/L/N.” His office door slammed shut behind him and you felt your heart splinter. Silence washed over the hall and for just a moment, you could almost believe that he had been a hallucination that your anxiety ridden mind had conjured up. The ping of an email notification from your computer broke you out of your desperate reasoning and suddenly you were following his steps.

Your knuckles curled over the steak knob, just as you had done so many times in the past and you pushed open the door. Bruce looked up from the pile of papers that you had left on his own desk over the past week, brandishing you with a look far more harsh than he had ever given you before.

“Bruce, what’s going on? You’ve been gone for days with no calls, no texts. I’ve been worried sick.” His jaw clenched, sending a shot of panic up your spine.

“Miss Y/L/N I don’t know where this feeling of entitlement has come from. What I do with my time is none of your business. I am your boss- not your friend and I would keep that in mind if you wish to keep your job.” He snarled. You physically recoiled as if he had struck you, unconsciously taking a step backwards. “Please refrain from using my first name, this is a place of business.”

Never, in your many years of working for this man, who was now a stranger, did he ever speak to you with such contempt, even hatred. And it broke your heart.

Your throat bobbed as you swallowed down tears. “Of course Mr Wayne, I apologise for my unprofessionalism.” He grunted in acknowledgement. Your hands shook as you closed the door to his office, shutting yourself out from the man you loved with every piece of you.

——————

There was no greater torture than this, you thought, to watch as your soulmate iced you out until you couldn’t remember what his warmth had felt like. When was the last time his name slipped past your lips or when yours escaped his. You were forced to see him almost every day and yet, he was more like a ghost to you.

He wouldn’t even speak to you anymore. At first, he kept his interactions with you to a few words in the mornings when he arrived and evenings when he would leave. But as the weeks carried on, he spoke less and less until he would barely even look at you as he passed.

Your chest burned with thousands of questions, each breath laced with the poison of doubt and fear. You wished for this behaviour to be some sick dream, oftentimes you thought that this could be a result of Scarecrow’s fear drug. But when you awoke each morning, you knew, deep down, that this was very real. You could only wonder if this was an inevitable fate that you were meant to suffer for loving someone as unobtainable as Bruce was.

You had known since the very first moment that his blue eyes held something more than friendship for you, that your love for him would always be greater than he would ever hold for you. You knew this, and yet you didn’t think you would have to accept such a devastating truth so soon. You were greedy for him and perhaps, you had taken too much.

“Y/L/N.” The sudden call of your name snapped you from your spiral of self-pity. You looked up and met the bright green eyes of the youngest Wayne. The ever-frowning Damian was now glaring at you, an almost perfect replica of his father. “Where is my father?”

“He’s-“ You cleared your throat, feeling incredibly uncomfortable under the 10 year old’s scrutinising gaze. “He’s in his office. You can go right in.” Damian observed you for another moment before he turned his nose up and walked past you. You breathed a sigh of relief as the door behind you opened and closed, seemingly leaving you alone once more.

“Are you quite alright Miss Y/N?” 

“Jesus!” You yelped in surprise, clutching your chest. The ever present force of Alfred looked down at you, lips pursed in concern. “Sorry, I didn’t see you come in.” 

“I believe it is I who should be apologising, I didn’t mean to frighten you. But, are you very sure you’re ok? You seem to be out of sorts.” He stepped closer, placing Damian’s jacket on the coat rack just beside the office door.

You waved him off, your throat suddenly thick with emotion. Alfred had always been immensely kind to you in the fleeting encounters you’d had with the man. And for a while, you believed that he knew about you and Bruce, but since he had been acting the same way since Bruce’s unexplained absence, you were obviously wrong. 

With a glance over your shoulder, as if to double check that your boss wasn’t listening in, you grabbed your purse from the floor and quickly slung it over your shoulder. “He doesn’t have any other meetings today so I think I may leave early. It was nice to see you, Alfred.”

And before he could even get a single word of protest out, you had already dashed to the elevator and slipped inside. As the reflective doors shut, you were able to catch the way Alfred frowned, his brown eyes dark as he watched you run.

You managed to hold off your sobs until you were safely in your car. Grief wrapped around your chest like a snake, slowly crushing your ribs inwards until all you could manage was small gasps of air as you slowly drowned in it. It was all getting too much, Bruce and work and this stupid fucking nausea that kept showing up at the worst times.

The stress was going to wear you down until you were nothing and what did you get out of it? A boss that couldn’t even look you in the eye even after years of sharing your life and your bed with him. He was acting like he didn’t even know your first name. You couldn’t keep doing this to yourself.

Tears still rolled down your rounded cheeks as the car’s engine turned over and you pulled out of your designated spot. The white paint that they used to write your name was chipping away, leaving a faded imprint of each letter like a child’s chalk drawing that was being washed away.

Your hiccuping sobs were slowly dying down until you pulled into your apartment complex and a notification appeared on your phone. The screen lit up the inside of your car, immediately drawing your attention to it.

‘Your period is 6 weeks late, is it stress or something more?’

——————

Silence in the office was not unusual for the top floor of Wayne Enterprises, though a complete lack of any noise was deeply concerning. Bruce once again glanced over his monitor to the open door where your vacant desk was clearly visible. His eyes flicked to the time displayed on the screen in front of him, you were over a half hour late and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why.

Just as Bruce was reaching over for his phone, you turned the corner. Your heels, far smaller than you normally wore he noted, clacked against the flooring as you strode towards him. Before you could spot him looking at you, he forced his gaze back down to the spreadsheets he hadn’t even bothered to read when he arrived this morning. His stomach fluttered as he heard you enter his office. Bruce tried to swallow the feeling down like he always did when you were around.

“I’m resigning.” His neck audibly popped as his head snapped up, suddenly all of his attention on you. Your hands trembled as you put a sheet of paper on his desk and quickly took a step back like a deer preparing to run. Bruce kept his eyes on you, the muscle in his jaw rolling as he bit back a thousand questions.

“I’m assuming this is effective immediately?” You nodded while he leaned back in his chair as nonchalantly as he could. “Is there any reason why? I thought you were happy working here.” 

Your left eye twitched but you steeled yourself with a deep breath. “I’m not obligated to tell you the reason why I’m leaving, just as you promised when you hired me. I have responsibilities elsewhere. I left candidates for your next secretary on my desk.” You turned on your heel, intent on leaving as quickly as you possibly could.

“Wait-“ Bruce darted out of his seat, sending it flying back as he rushed forwards. “Please I just want to know why, I think I deserve that much.” His large hand wrapped around your wrist in an iron grip, forcing you to stop your retreat.

“You’re a fucking asshole, you know that Bruce.” You didn’t even bother to look at him as you spoke. “I really thought you were different. But obviously, I was wrong. You’re so selfish and cruel and I made the mistake of falling in love with you.”

He stumbled back as you finally met his gaze. Your eyes were burning with a loathing that sent a chill to his bones. “So no, you don’t deserve to know why I’m leaving. Be glad I even did you the courtesy of giving you my resignation in writing.” You yanked your hand from his hold. “Goodbye Mr Wayne. Don’t contact me.”

And then you stormed out of his life, leaving the feared Bat of Gotham confused and with a massive pit in his heart.

——————

“Okay, so we agree that this isn’t an invasion of anyone’s privacy, Y/N or B’s, because it’s for the sake of the greater good.” Dick made eye contact with each of his younger siblings as if to reinforce this statement.

“Yeah cause if B doesn’t stop moping around and nagging us, I will actually kill him.” Jason quipped from where he was perched on the fire escape. Cass nodded in agreement from beside the bigger man as Steph snorted under her breath.

“I’m just here for the drama. I’ve never seen him acting like a moody teenager before. Babs wants me to keep her updated.” Dick sighed heavily, deciding to ignore her comment as he continued to address the others.

“We stay hidden and only observe. Got that Damian?” 

“Why am I being singled out when Drake was the one that hacked into her medical records?”

“For the last time, it wasn’t her medical records, it was just her employment records!” 

“Like that’s any better.” Tim glared at Duke.

“You’re the one who snitched.”

“Hey!” Dick stepped in before they could escalate their little squabble, “That doesn’t matter now. What does matter is finding out exactly what happened to make Y/N quit and B so fucking miserable.” 

“Ooo golden boy swore, guess that means it’s serious.” Jason jostled Cass with his shoulder as she giggled quietly. Dick rolled his eyes.

“If you’re not gonna take this seriously, you can just go home.” Red Hood rose to his feet, his gloved hands raised in surrender.

“I am taking this seriously, I just also enjoy annoying you. It’s called multitasking.” 

“Father is fine. I don’t understand why this is necessary.” Damian huffed from his place at Dick’s side. He had been adamant that nothing was wrong with Bruce, even after the increased number of injuries he had been receiving on a nightly basis and a general disinterest in anything besides crime fighting. All the kids knew that it was a problem but Damian got to go on more patrols so he was content.

“Because demon brat, ever since Y/N quit, he’s been in an awful-ass mood and has been making it our problem. I would rather not have the old man keep sticking his nose in my business just because he’s cranky.” 

“And-“ Duke shot Jason a look, “he’s getting extremely reckless. We’ve all seen the amount of med supplies he’s been going through. If we don’t find out what’s going on, he’s gonna end up in a body bag.” Silence fell upon the rooftop. 

We can help both of them. Cass signed. I really liked Y/N. She was nice.

Tim cleared his throat. “So, can we go now? The longer we’re not responding to Alfred, the more chance B comes after us.” Dick put his hand on Damian’s shoulder.

“Tim’s right. We stay low and we stay quiet. Duke, Jay you two go on ahead and we’ll follow behind. Do not engage and don’t be creepy.” He spoke specifically to Jason.

“This whole thing is fucking creepy but fine, I guess I won’t look in her nightstand.” And before Dick could even open his mouth to scold his younger brother, he was gone over the side of the building. Duke shrugged and followed after, his footsteps silent beneath the sounds of the city.

Damian jerked forwards but Nightwing’s grip on his shoulder kept him stuck to the spot. “You’re with Steph. You two keep an ear open for the big man but other than that, stay off the comms. Cass, Tim with me, we’ll cover the street and then come up behind.” Cass nodded and pulled her mask up higher over her nose, following after her older brothers.

“Are you sure about this Dick? If we’re wrong-“

“I know T, but what if we’re right? Something happened between those two and maybe, we can make it right. B isn’t himself and it’s affecting all of us.” Dick then released his youngest brother. “Remember, stay out of sight.” 

As soon as he disappeared into the night, Stephanie muttered. “This is bullshit.”

“I agree.”

Your apartment was easy to find— the 7th floor of a relatively upscale building, one that was suspiciously out of your price range. Jason raised an eyebrow at the double glazed window panes as well as the discreet sill reinforcements he could just make out around the edges of the glass. 

“She’s either extremely paranoid or someone else is.” Duke grunted in agreement.

“Think B is behind it?”

Jason shrugged as he lowered himself down onto the steel grate of the fire escape that snaked past the apartment’s windows. “That or she’s got a hell of a lot more secrets than we thought.” Duke dropped down beside him, the two of them moving in sync along the catwalk. 

The kitchen was dark, as was the living room. Duke’s head jerked to the right, drawing Jason’s eyes to the soft glow coming from the last window. He gently squeezed the shorter man’s shoulder as he slipped past. 

Jason pressed his bulk against the naked brick and crept his way forwards, keeping to the shadows as much as he could. Thin curtains covered the window from the inside, but it did nothing to hinder his view of the brightly lit bedroom. 

You were sitting in a rocking chair in the corner of the room, eyes locked onto a small black and white photo in your right hand. Your left gently cradled your belly, your thumb gently brushing over the soft layer of fat. Even through the haze of the sheer curtains, the sadness on your face was as clear as day.

Jason’s own eyes narrowed in on the image in your hand before he stumbled backwards, almost falling from the fire escape. His neck clicked as his eyes met Signal’s who was suddenly standing ram-rod straight.

“Holy shit she’s pregnant.” But before Duke or Jason could even begin to comprehend the magnitude of their discovery, the bedroom window slammed open and suddenly, you and the Red Hood were face-to-face.

“Do you all want to come in for tea or should I tell you to fuck off now?”

“Huh, I guess she did have some secrets.” You moved out of the way, letting Duke slip into the warm apartment and leaving Jason stunned for only a second before he clicked on his com system.

“Yo, we’ve been caught.” And then he followed behind.

The bedroom was smaller than he thought it would be, but it was cosy. A thick duvet on the bed, a candle on the vanity in the corner. It was… nice. Duke had already made himself comfortable at the kitchen counter by the time Jason stepped out of the bedroom. The thick black and yellow helmet he donned was neatly placed on the chair beside him.

“Dude.” Jason whined but his little brother only smiled at him, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

“Would you like milk in your tea Jason?” 

“What the fu- goddamnit. Yes and honey too please.” You hummed softly and set the kettle on the stove.

“I take it the same way. Mugs are in the cabinet above the sink, grab them for me. Duke, would you mind opening the front door, I’d rather not have mud tracked into my bedroom.” The teen dutifully stalked off as Jason retrieved said mugs and set them down on the counter. His own helmet soon joined his brother’s as he leaned against the wall across from you.

You continued to fuss about the kitchen, pulling out some biscuits and sugar as well. “It’s Bruce’s isn’t it?” Your body stuttered but you were quickly composed once more, though you did not look Jason’s way.

“I think you already know the answer to that.” He lurched forward as if he were about to defend his adoptive father but then just as suddenly, he leaned back and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Jesus. I just thought you got sick of him.” You chuckled under your breath though it was plain enough that there was no joy in it. You looked truly exhausted as you placed a tea bag in each mug, the dark circles that marred your face almost broke Jason’s heart. 

“You’ll find that it’s the other way around.” But before he could open his mouth to object, the rest of his siblings burst into the apartment, led by a frazzled Dick.

“How!” 

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t yell in my apartment Richard, I don’t want a noise complaint.” Dick’s jaw shut with an audible click, his shoulders slouching in defeat.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good dog.” Steph cooed as she strutted past, her own mask already off and safely tucked into her belt. She gunned straight for the freshly poured tea. The others shambled around the stunned man, each finding their own spot in your apartment. 

The air was stale with questions that none of them wanted to ask though the answers were obvious. Damian settled himself beside you, the top of his head just barely peeking out over the top of the stone counter. The blank white eyes of his mask were fixed on the steaming mugs.

“This is acceptable.” This time your laugh was genuine as you gently pushed the largest mug towards the 10 year old who quickly snatched it off the counter. Jason noticed the way the tension in your shoulders gradually eased as each of his siblings took their own tea, filling the room with quiet murmurings. 

Dick was the last to approach you. “So you know.”

You nodded and offered him his own cup. “I know. Figured it out pretty soon after I was hired.” 

He gratefully took the mug, letting its warmth seep into his gloved hands as he sank onto a chair from the dining room. You smiled sweetly at him before your attention was pulled away by Steph who interpreted for Cass. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You shrugged, the fingers of your left hand brushed against the swell of your belly. “What could I have said ‘hey I know you and your kids dress up in costumes and run around Gotham at night punching people, anyway, can you sign this document?’. Bruce- Mr Wayne and I had an understanding; I don’t mention the whole bat thing and he actually starts doing work and showing up on time. Plus a great health care package.”

“Apparently that wasn’t the only package you were getting.” The words had barely left Jason’s mouth before Cass slapped the back of his head, hard. “Fuck! What was that for?” She gave him a withering look then met your eyes once more with a silent apology.

You smiled at her and continued. “I wouldn’t put it as crassly but yes, we were together. Our anniversary was supposed to be next week.” 

“And now you’re pregnant.” You nodded at Duke.

“I’m 12 weeks as of yesterday.”

Tim cleared his throat but kept his eyes locked on his now empty mug. “There was an incident during patrol a few weeks ago. Bruce got hit with a new serum scarecrow had been developing and- it was really bad. He threw himself at walls and us, screaming about how he needed pain. We were only able to stop him when he knocked himself out on a pipe. He was in really bad shape, when he finally woke up after three days, he couldn’t even remember his own name.

“We all had to come home and essentially re-introduce ourselves to him but he did remember us, some just took longer than others. He recognised Cass as soon as she smiled at him while it took Dick swinging from the chandelier in the dining room for it to click.” Dick’s cheeks warmed in embarrassment.

“I did what I had to do.”

“Tt, you just wished to show off Grayson.” Damian chose to speak up then, making you jump as his voice was far closer than it had been a few minutes before. The youngest Wayne now stood at your hip, barely an inch of space between the two of you. “Father remembered me the quickest.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah definitely, it had nothing to do with you getting upset and throwing a temper tantrum for him to remember.” Damian glared at his older brother but made no move to stray from your side. 

“Anyway.” Tim continued. “After what happened we’ve been trying to help him but-“

“He’s fucking miserable.” Duke interrupted, “He has been since the accident and even more so after you quit. At least hear him out.” Duke leaned forward, planting his elbows onto the kitchen counter. “At least you should tell him about the baby so he could help support you.” His voice strained like he was on the edge of tears.

“Your father doesn’t owe me anything. I was greedy and I took too much. I-“ You choked on your words and suddenly, you were just a heartbroken girl standing in front of them. “I just want peace now so I think it would be best if you all forgot about me, about this. I get that you want to protect your father and under any other circumstance, I would agree with you but even if what you said is true, then why hasn’t he remembered me? We were together for almost four years, and saw each other every day. If he needed to see me to jog his memory or talk to me then that would’ve been solved the day he walked back into the office. He doesn’t want to remember- he doesn’t want me.”

No one spoke until you cleared your throat and turned towards the kitchen sink, your back now to the whole group. “I think you all should leave. Just forget tonight ever happened. We’re not your concern and we certainly aren’t Bruce’s. I appreciate that you all care so much but I don’t think this is something that can be fixed.” 

“But-“ Steph tried.

“Please, go. This hurts enough as it is, don’t make it worse.” 

Dick sighed. “She’s right. Let’s give her some space. C’mon.” You ignored the way their pitying looks burned against the back of your neck as they each walked out the door, donning their masks once more until Dick was the last one in your apartment. “Here’s my number, call if you need anything at all. And I mean anything, even if it’s for stupid cravings. You may think that Bruce abandoned you but I won’t.” 

He gave your shoulder a friendly squeeze before slipping out behind his siblings.

You waited until the door shut to finally cry, not knowing that all the kids could hear you.

——————

“Do you ever want to tell them about us?” Your voice was soft, as if you were whispering a dark secret. Bruce’s heart thumped loudly beneath your ear as you rested on his naked chest. You traced the pale lines of scars that littered his torso, occasionally pressing soft kisses to his overheated skin. 

His large hand cupped the back of your head as he let his lips brush against your crown. “Maybe one day princess. But I want to keep you to myself just a bit longer.” You wanted to protest but the fight was quickly stolen from you as Bruce rolled you onto your back, slotting himself between your plump thighs as you felt him harden once more. “Let me spoil my girl in peace.”  Any protests you had were quickly drowned out as he pulled moans from you. 

Bruce lurched up with a gasp, desperately trying to suck in oxygen as the dream replayed in his mind. It felt so real but there is no way that it could be, he would’ve remembered it by now if it was.

“Fuck.” His ribs screamed in protest at his violent awakening. Even a month after his run in with the Scarecrow, his body was barely recovering and he could feel pieces of his mind that had still yet to fit themselves back into place. 

The blaring green light from the clock on his nightstand told him that he had only been asleep for an hour, an improvement after he recovered from the concussion but still not great. The cold hardwood sent a jolt of alertness up his spine, but did nothing to subdue the torrent of images that flashed in his mind every time he so much as blinked. 

The curve of your shoulder as water droplets ran down your back. 

Bruce rocked his weight forward and stood with a groan.

Your thick thighs wrapped around his hips as he gripped you by the waist and thrust downwards.

He slipped a shirt over his shoulders, and tugged on a pair of sweats as he headed for the door to his bedroom.

Candle light flickering across your face as you cradled him against your chest, his lips branding every inch of skin he could reach.

“What a fucking pervert.” He snarled to himself. All you had ever been was kind to him, and respectful. And yet he was imagining you in his bed. Not only in his bed, some twisted part of his mind coos. His nails bit into his palm as he swallowed thickly.

It started the first day back after his ‘accident’. Bruce vaguely knew who you were, fleeting memories of your job interview and casual conversations at the beginning of the work day. Alfred had told him of your intelligence and hard work but none of his family could recall anything other than a professional relationship between the two of you.

The second he saw you, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He wanted to touch you, kiss you, just be in your presence but how could he? You were young, his secretary and you would be in danger if he indulged. And still, you remained.

For weeks, Bruce buried himself in the mystery of you. He needed to know what it was about you that captivated him. Yet none of the information he uncovered gave him answers and you still remained in his dreams. He pushed himself into patrols, into training and work. He had already been on the end of dozens of lectures from Alfred and Dick (and one very strange one from Damian), he kept pushing on.

The cave’s chill sliced through him as Bruce stepped from the elevator and he was greeted by the sight of his oldest and youngest bickering by the huge wall of monitors. He ignored them.

The police scanner was suspiciously silent as he took a seat in front of his workbench. “You shut off the alert system.” His voice was raspy from disuse but it immediately silenced his boys and drew their gaze to him.

“Grayson did it. I was just informing him how irresponsible he’s being.”

“And I was telling Damian that you need a break, desperately.”

“Chum-“

“No. I’m serious Bruce, you’re actively fucking killing yourself and I won’t let you. Jason and Cass are covering your patrols for the foreseeable future and you are staying put. I am sick of this stupid self-destruction rampage you’re going on.” 

Dick’s phone suddenly rang, the default tone echoing around the cave for a moment before he fished it from his pocket and answered. “Grayson.” As the person on the other end spoke, his eyebrows scrunched and his jaw tightened.

“Which hospital are they taking you to? Ok, I’ll meet you there, just keep breathing, everything's going to be fine.” The line went dead. Dick regarded his father with a look. “I have to go but this is not the end of this conversation.” Before he could take a step towards the exit, Damian grabbed his brother’s hand.

“Is Y/N hurt?” There were moments like this where Dick cursed the fact that his little brother was so observant. He could see Bruce sit up, his focus no longer on the work in front of him. 

“She’s fine, just a little scared but she’ll be alright.”

Then Damian did something so dumb, Dick knew that it was on purpose. “Is the baby ok?” 

There was a beat, then another as he waited on his father’s reaction. Damian had already tried to jog his memory on the topic of you but nothing ever worked and he only succeeded in pissing off his siblings who tried to get him to understand that it wasn’t his decision to make. “The baby?” Bruce whispered like the air had just been knocked from his lungs.

Dick’s temples pulsed with the beginning of a migraine and he glowered at the young boy. “The baby is fine, they’re gonna run some tests. You stay here and we’re going to have a very long talk when I get back.”

“Y/N’s pregnant?” He ignored his father and instead shook off Damian before he jogged to the elevator. So instead Bruce looked to the boy that stood alone in front of the wall of glowing monitors. “Is-is the baby-“

“It appears as though I won’t be the youngest any longer. If you run, you could catch up.” 

Bruce’s stomach dropped. “I-“

Damian glared at him. “Go.”

——————

“I’m only taking you because I think that you’re still listed as her emergency contact so I need you in order to visit.” Bruce nodded solemnly as Dick pulled into a parking spot in the hospital garage. “You will not talk to her, you won’t even fucking look at her.” He took his father’s silence as agreement.

The powerful engine cut off and without another word, he stepped from the car, expecting Bruce to follow behind. Bruce had always hated hospitals, the air too stale from all the cleaning chemicals they used, the silence, the blinding lights. But if you were here, he would spend the rest of his life on the uncomfortable waiting room chairs just to make sure you were safe.

“I’m here to see Y/N Y/L/N, she called me from the ambulance.” The older nurse at the check-in desk raised her eyebrow at the pair.

“She’s in room 335. Down the hall, third door on your right.”

“Thank you.” Bruce trailed along behind his son, the questions in his mind building up higher and higher with each step he took. But all he could concentrate on was if you were ok.

Dick gave him a warning look as they reached the room. “It’s me, can I come in?” There was a muffled response and then Dick slipped inside, quickly shutting the door behind him. 

The hall was now only filled with the beeping machines from other rooms and the occasional call over the pa system, leaving nothing to distract Bruce from the fear that curled around his heart. He knew what he was going to do was a bad idea, one that could have the potential to destroy not only any redemption with you but might fracture the already tumultuous relationship he had with his son.

But he had to see you, just once.

As quietly as he could, Bruce grabbed the door handle and slowly pushed his way in, praying that the hinges didn’t squeak. 

“I’m ok, I just got a bit dizzy and fell down like 1 step. I think the ambulance was totally unnecessary.”

Dick shook his head. “Will you just let someone take care of you for once?”

You chuckled softly and took his hand in such a maternal fashion, it made Bruce’s heart lurch in his chest. “I called, didn't I?”

The door swung fully open, hitting the wall behind with a resounding thud. Both your attentions snapped to Bruce.

You sat up in bed on the opposite side of the room, dressed in a flimsy hospital gown and illuminated by harsh lights but you were still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Your fading smile was tired and your eyes bloodshot from crying and Bruce realised that you were comforting Dick, not the other way around. He hadn’t seen you smile in so long.

“Why is he here?” You hissed and visibly curled in on yourself, arms around your stomach. 

“Bruce-“

“I know you.”

He knew each dip and bump and curve of your soft body, the colour of your eyes in the sun and how different they were under fluorescent lights, which hairstyle you wore indicating what mood you were in.

He knew your insecurities and your trauma, you hated humidity but didn’t mind the heat, the names of all your plants, and the way you would smile just a bit brighter and just a bit wider when children or animals were around.

He knew you loved him.

Bruce Wayne knew he loved you.

“I-I know you.” His voice shook as he took a step towards you yet this time, you didn’t flinch away. “Sunny. My sun. My light.” 

“Bruce.” A tear rolled down your cheek.

“I’m so sorry.” He fell to his knees beside you, his head bowed. “I’m sorry my love. I didn’t mean to, I didn’t- Why couldn’t I remember?” He sobbed.

“It doesn’t matter now.” Your fingers, your perfect delicate fingers, brushed away his tears before you gently cupped his cheeks, lifting his gaze back up to meet yours. 

“I was so horrible to you, I didn’t know. And you’re- god you’re pregnant.” His hands slid up the side of the bed, cupping your thigh over the scratchy hospital blankets. You nodded and guided them higher so his palms spread over your growing stomach. “Wow I guess I really did do the filling huh?”

“Oh god, ‘m gonna throw up.” 

You laughed as Bruce bashfully looked over at his son. “Sorry chum.”

“I’m gonna go get some coffee, by the time I get back, you two better be fully dressed.” Your lips snapped shut as you looked away in embarrassment and it was Bruce’s turn to chuckle.

“Sunny, I’m so sorry, you deserved so much better.” 

“Will you stop that? I know it wasn’t your fault.”

“But it still hurt you and I made a promise to never do that. So please, let me grovel.” He laid his head onto your thigh while you threaded your fingers into his hair.

“What made you remember?”

“Your smile. I realised that I would always remember your smile and then everything came flooding back.”

“You’re a fucking sap you know that.” You tugged on his hair but Bruce just smiled dumbly at you before he smirked.

“Marry me.”

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[tenpintsof-sundrop]

Hii !! From the smut prompts (stop rolling your eyes, I know Im predicatable!) could I request "Accidentally Sending Nudes", "Sexting" and... a secret third thing (the choice is yours, go hogwild) for Jason x Fat Fem Reader? I'm leaning more towards sub!reader but shes def a little shit about it :3

Thank you in advance if you write it !! 🌼

See, this is why it pays to send in a request with me, because even if I don't answer it right away, I keep requests in my inbox for months and come back to them later!!! (This is from December 2023)

(Also this request is just plain fun) (because Star knows exactly what buttons to push to get me lmao)

DC Titans Requests - OPEN

How would Jason react to you accidentally sending him a nude?

(Jason Todd x Fem!Thick!Reader)

Warnings: set specifically in the Titans!verse - set during season 3/mentions of season 3 plot points; spoilers for major plot points of Titans (including character deaths on the show); this is kind of enemies to lovers? (enemies to fwb, I guess); the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; the reader is described as being fat/plus sized; passing mentions of Gar x reader (I couldn't help myself); dubious consent - because of the nature of the trope, Jason sees the reader naked without her explicit consent, and he decides to keep the picture without her consent - but it does spark a consensual sexual relationship between them; passing mention of using nudes for blackmail (that does not happen); this isn't really proofread; (generally, I consider this post to be a fucking mess because it was written in Tumblr but I was still trying to have fun with it lmao.)

...

Jason is minding his own business when it happens.

(For once in life, he is fully, completely, minding his own business.)

He's back in Gotham and he hasn't seen you in months - and if asked, he would say that he hasn't thought about you. He doesn't have time to think about you because he's been too busy with this therapy bullshit, training, trying to get back his title of Robin. Trying to get back in the cape. (And trying to get back in Bruce's good graces.)

But that's not exactly true. He's thought about you a lot.

(Most of those times have been with his hand around his cock, but again - he won't admit that.)

There is an occasional time that you cross his mind and it's because he's wondering genuinely how you're doing - wondering if you're well, how your training is going, wondering if you're doing okay under the Dickhead's reign. But he can't ever pluck up the courage to text you and simply ask. Because that would be admitting that he cares, and that would make him look like a weak little prick.

And that's why he's so damn surprised when you text him first.

He hasn't heard from you since he left the Tower (well, since he stormed away from Donna's funeral in what you called a 'toddler fit' - something that ended in a rather vicious text argument between the two of you). In fact, the last thing in the text history between the two of you is you calling him a 'giant, petty, whiny baby who can't deal with his own emotions'.

(You had no clue what had happened between him and Rose, so that did inform a lot of your opinion on the matter.) (And that was probably the reason why Rose still had all of her teeth after you had seen her at the funeral.)

But all of that was aside from the point.

The point being - Jason found himself smiling when your contact name popped up on his phone.

He has you in his phone as 'Pretty Girl' - along with a contact picture of you sticking your tongue out at him in response to having his phone shoved in your face with the knowledge that he was taking a picture of you. (That tongue always makes him think certain things, so even though you intended for it to be some rude thing to ruin the picture, it makes it so much better for him.)

(1) new photo

That instantly catches Jason's attention.

Perhaps you were sending him a picture just to flip him off, or sending him a picture of a dumpster to ask him if it reminded him of home - a common joke you used to make when he still lived at the Tower.

Jason grabbed his phone and opened the message, expecting another tired joke, and-

Holy fuck.

The last thing he was expecting - your naked body. Your gorgeous naked body.

(He likely would have expected a nuclear blast or for the Joker to clean up his act and actually become a decent, sane citizen before he expected this to happen.)

Jason brought his phone closer to his face, making the picture full screen in order to examine it better - he needed to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating, or that this wasn't some weird dream. But fuck, he definitely wouldn't be able to dream up this.

You were so perfect - so fucking perfect in a way that was so very real.

The picture was a fucking stunning side profile of your body - rolling curves, lacy underwear that could clearly barely contain your impressive hips with sweet little stretch marks jutting out from the fabric (jagged little marks across the softness of your skin that made Jason want to act up) - soft fat for him to grab onto, and the perfect teardrop shape of your breast, now bared to his eye in a way that he had only dreamt of before. Something that he had stared at through the oversized tee shirts you wore to bed without a bra, just wondering what you looked like underneath.

And fuck, this was so much better than anything he could have dreamt up.

Jason's cock began to harden almost instantly, and laying in bed, he reached over to his nightstand for some lube, ready to milk that picture for all it was worth, when-

His phone buzzed again.

Pretty Girl: 'Delete that.'

Jason hadn't even considered that you had sent it to him by mistake. He had been far too busy enjoying to even consider the intention or the psychology behind it.

So, he took his hand off the waistband of his sweats and texted back the first thing that came to mind.

'No.'

(He didn't hear your annoyed growl on the other end, frustrated at his downright typical Jason behaviour.)

'It's not my fault you made a dumbass mistake. Besides, it's the least I get after all the nagging from you.'

Then, something else came to mind as the bubbles popped up, meaning you were busy formulating a reply - an annoyed one, no doubt.

'Who did you mean to send it to anyway? Who are you fucking whose name starts with J that's not me?'

(You hesitated.)

Pretty Girl: 'I didn't type in J.'

'???'

Pretty Girl: 'I typed in G. And it turns out the first contact that popped up was Giant Baby. That's you.'

Jason felt annoyed and insulted on all levels. The fact that you were going to Tiger Boy for dick instead of him, and the fact that you had used such a mocking contact name for him. But when he realised that such a pathetic string of events had caused him to accidentally see you naked, he couldn't be too upset.

'I'm still keeping the picture 😈'

Pretty Girl: 'You're such an asshole' Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me one'

'Fine, I'll owe you one'

Jason shrugged it off, thinking he had won, until -

Pretty Girl: 'No, you owe me a cock.'

This made Jason's stomach jump. You couldn't possibly mean-?

Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me a picture of your dick. You know - an eye for an eye type stuff.'

Jason wanted to ask questions - what did you plan to do with the picture? Should he shave his balls first? Did you want more than one?

But his cock got even harder at you asking for a picture, at you demanding to see his cock, and he couldn't properly think - he couldn't even reason that you might later blackmail him with the picture.

No, instead, he found himself ripping down his pants and turning on the bedside lamp for good lighting, pumping himself up to peak rigid hardness and grasping the base of his cock in hand. And then, without hesitation, he snapped a picture for you. He made sure to get his abs in the photo - a collection of his best assets, with his pants pulled down to mid-thigh, showing off his tight stomach, the deep V leading down to his dick, and his thick seven inch cock in hand surrounded by some well-kept dark pubic hair.

(He was proud of it - and that ego was one of the things that annoyed you most about him.)

He sent it without hesitation and then you began typing several times and stopped once again. Jason's stomach churned with nerves until -

Pretty Girl: 'Fuck you' Pretty Girl: 'I thought it would be smaller'

Jason had no clue how to respond to that, and he was busy racking his brain for some clever reply, when -

Oh. Oh fuck.

(1) new photo

You had sent him another picture. And this time it was definitely on purpose.

It was a view between the plump, beautiful thickness of your thighs - your hand was inside the pretty lace of those panties, and your fingers were visible working on your clit while your needy hole dripped wetness onto the fabric.

So you had liked what you had seen.

Pretty Girl: 'What would you do if you were here right now?'

Jason's brain short-circuited then. He thought of so many things - eating your pussy until you screamed, flipping you onto your stomach and fucking you until you begged him to stop, gripping onto those gorgeous thighs, pinning them to your chest and pounding into your cunt until you finally surrendered and said that you had liked him all along, fucking your smart little mouth to finally shut you up-

Pretty Girl: 'Come on, Jay. Don't disappoint me.'

Oh, he won't.

(Another thing Jason won't admit - he came back to the Tower just for you.)

...

DC Titans Masterlist

[ms-nesbit]

Sleepless In Seattle (chapter 5 of Empire Records)

Summary: Y/n has a guest at her place, and things go better than planned.

Rating: 18+ (minors, fuck off)

Warnings: smut, FINALLY smut, masturbation, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), swearing, trauma

Note: this is the final chapter of Empire Records. Lmk if you like it or if you want a different fic or some kind. I enjoyed this.

Previous Chapter

ao3

It was winter now - clouds loitering in the sky, over welcoming their stay, bringing grayish drab to the rancid city below them. Gothamites acclimated, as always - they were, after all, residents of Gotham, one of the most dangerous places in the world.

Y/n left her window cracked, welcoming the cold breeze as she lit her carefully placed candles. The wind tickled her skin, and she smiled when it did - her loungewear was underwhelming considering the climate, the band tee and black track shorts failing to cover what was now being touched by the cold air.

And she cleaned her apartment to prepare for company. Jason visited y/n’s flat before, usually to stop by for a chat (which turned into hours-long debates or dabbles), but in their exchange, it was clear this time was different. Her boyfriend hadn’t explicitly stated this, but given the tone of his voice and counsel provided by her horoscope reading, Jason was going to sleep over and - sex or not - it was important for y/n, who otherwise would have left her habitat a comical mess.

The apartment doorbell buzzed, followed by a static-distorted voice: “Hey, y/n? Could you, uh, buzz me up here? I got my hands full.”

Complying, y/n shook her head and giggled, pressing the button on the intercom. She wiped off her kitchen island, half-surprised by the spaciousness of it. She forgot the material of her countertop, and she reminded herself to look elsewhere for an apartment when her contract ended.

Then, a knock in the form of words. “Y/n?”

Jason. Y/n unlocked each lock before opening the heavy door to find the tall man grinning down at her, his arms holding a couple of vinyl and a reusable grocery bag, its contents unknown to y/n. Was this his sleepover bag?

It seems not, based on Jason’s answer after y/n’s thought. “Sorry for the wait. I brought some albums we could listen to, and some ingredients to make food in case we get hungry.”

He stepped in, and y/n closed the door, eyes on Jason’s ass in his dark jeans. She relocked the doors - a move critical to Gothamites - and pointed him in the direction of the island, where a pair of chairs were pulled out. Jason commented on the cleanliness of the apartment with a zest, “Oooh, dressin’ this dump up for me?” And y/n, too proud to admit she was falling in love with the ex-Robin, she quipped easily.

“Why did you bring food, anyway?” Y/n questioned when Jason was removing the ingredients, each in their own container, bagged or rigid. She noted the eggs and paprika first, then the bagged fresh cilantro, onion, spinach, and…cheese? Bagged cheese, at that? “Jason, do you have the rest of Whole Foods in here? I didn’t think there is one in Gotham.”

“Too much crime.” Jason smiled wickedly at y/n. “And no, I want to make something good. You said you’ve never had shakshuka, and that was almost a dealbreaker until you sent me a pic of your tits-”

“Ah, yes, the notes of true love.”

“-and I thought, ‘Well, I can just make them for y/n.’ And we can turn it into a date or something.” Jason finished, varieties of tomatoes in hand.

Y/n read the labels of cheeses. “I thought there wasn’t cheese in shakshuka.”

Sneaking a bite of spinach, he replied enthusiastically, “There isn’t! But I think I could use the remaining egg to make you a quiche in the morning.”

In the morning. Y/n was right, and she made a mental note to thank her astrologist later. She would be lying if she wasn’t excited - she tried some of Jason’s creations on their picnic at the cemetery, and wondered why he decided to pursue sexwork and not cooking - he was a rebel, one after y/n’s heart, at that, and y/n kissed him after that.

She walked across the island to meet Jason, wrapping her arms around his neck, and pulled him into a kiss. “Thank heavens for my tits.” Y/n remarked after they broke the kiss, her face still inches from his.

His stormy hazel came to a tranquil green, the branches of a tree swaying to and fro. It wasn’t that he intended for the storm to brew - it was in Mother Nature’s hands indeed - but something in him stirred, something y/n spotted on their previous dates. Either way, she was thankful for Jason, and his arms securing her body close to his was a reminder.

“I love you.”

The words left Jason quicker than he wanted them to… or so y/n thought judging by the remorse-ridden expression he wore. Y/n’s eyes darted, the first time since their first date that she did so out of avoidance, and she opened her mouth, but nothing came of it.

Did she love him? Wasn’t it too soon to love someone? And if she did love him - theoretically, of course - why would he say it while she wore her period outfit (it was laundry day, an unfortunate time for y/n)?

Certainly, y/n loves Jason. But the hope in his eyes dropped, and the storm reeled back in, this time in full swing. Y/n hesitated.

“I love you too.” Y/n pushed out, her hands clinging to Jason’s shirt, praying to Aretha Franklin that he wouldn’t slip away from her. The sincerity in her eyes were burning, far greater than any hatred she felt, and Jason knew.

It was all he needed to calm the thunder in him, and the corners of his mouth twitched, turning into a grin, one that…it was endearing. Reassured, at ease, as if he avoided a nasty collision at a traffic stop. His arms loosened around her waist, unafraid of losing her. He has her, in his arms, and she wanted him.

Y/n wanted Jason, too, in a way that was softer than the sumptuous comforter she slept in, and quieter, her shouts and anarchistic demeanor maturing, aging into a keened elder, empowered by the experience in her wrinkles.

It was love that brought them to each other, despite the miscommunication; it was love that brought Jason’s hands underneath y/n’s band tee, his cold hands causing her to shiver; it was love that allowed Jason to remember y/n’s scent, her smile, her signature cackle; it was love that y/n chose when her hands instinctively traveled south, just above his jeans, all while staring at him for approval.

Jason nodded, a thousand proclamations of love in a silent room. He hissed when y/n hooked her index fingers on either hip under his dark jeans, and hauled them, revealing his erection. Having been familiarized with his line of work, y/n knew how he looked nude through a screen, but when Jason threw his shirt behind him, and presented himself vulnerable to her in her apartment, she teared up.

Still clothed, y/n guided them back to her bed, and laid him down, before removing her band tee, exposing her breasts to Jason. He shifted, cock filled with blood, and it twitched with each inch he allowed his eyes to wander. Instead of removing her shorts, y/n laid beside him, and threw a leg over his toned waist, burying her head in his chest.

Affirmation. It was validation he needed most of all, that he wasn’t an object to be used, and tossed into a closet, thrown with other forgotten memories webbed in ultraviolet tragedies - y/n told him she wanted him, not his body, all with a motion. She could have easily stripped herself completely and ridden him, no matter how tempted they both were, but she chose him.

Again and again.

Jason bit down on his lip at the sight before him though, and he was the one who broke the wholesome intimacy, darkening the mood into an amber as he lowered a hand to y/n’s chest and began kneading her breast. He heard a stifled noise from y/n, and she ground down on his waist, face still buried in his chest.

He chuckled. “Really, Princess? This is your weak point?” he pulled at y/n’s nipple, causing her to lift her face from him, as she yelped in a mix of pleasure and pain. “You look so much better in person, too. Feel incredible.”

Closing his eyes, Jason focused on the softness of her skin, and the suede, perked bud aching for attention. He wondered if her clit was the same.

“Sit on my face.” Jason blurted, both hands on y/n’s breasts as she leaned toward them, welcoming the attention.

“Come again?” Y/n asked.

“I didn’t come yet.” Jason joked, voice low in lust. “I want you to sit on and ride my face.”

Y/n processed his request quickly, and kicked her shorts off just as much. Before settling on his face, y/n eyed Jason’s cock - neglected, dripping with pre-cum - and gave his head a lick, causing Jason to moan loudly in surprise. He bucked his hips and groaned, annoyed by the tease. 

“I hate you.” He said while y/n was positioning herself over his face.

“No you- oh.” Y/n lowered herself, her snide comment cut off by a moan as Jason anchored her legs with his arms, which gripped her thighs. He lapped at her wet cunt impatiently, tongue searching for the right pattern to set y/n off.

Y/n was in such a state of bliss that it took her a moment to realize Jason was spelling his name against her clit, her hips shaking when Jason signed a ‘J’. She looked down and saw Jason’s eyes, pupils blown in filth, as he ate her out, signing his initial over and over, until y/n met the constellations.

And she spotted the Big Dipper behind her eyelids when she shut her eyes, orgasm rapidly approaching. “Just like that, Jason!” she gasped, gripping his hair and riding his face. Y/n reached behind her with a hand to jerk Jason off, and when her hand grasped his cock, the moan he let out into her pussy sent vibrations of pleasure that drove her over the edge, her climax hitting her recklessly.

Jason guided her through it, stifling his moans despite y/n’s hand pulling at his needy erection perfectly, and he felt his balls tighten before he met y/n in the deep space, eyes screwing shut as senseless curses and explicit, long groans left his mouth.

Still straddling his face, y/n looked down at Jason to see how his face looked. It was so much different in person, the hues of flesh on his skin so tenderly painted with the cascade of the lighting and euphoria he experienced. “So beautiful…” doesn’t even cover what she stared at in the moment, and although it was inappropriate and greedy for her to remain, pussy hovered over his face, like that, she didn’t want to move.

Until, with his inhuman strength, Jason did, slipping out from underneath y/n so that he could sit beside her on her bed. Instead of rushing to get dressed, he laid her down, kissing her shoulders as he did so, and after y/n’s head hit the flat pillow, Jason pulled a comforter over her, excusing himself to the bathroom to clean himself off. In that time, y/n blinked at the ceiling, plucking thorns in the rose of their relationship and cutting herself, so nervous about what would become of their relationship after this shared experience. She feared she would be disposed of, so awkward in her own mattress.

“Here.” Jason returned and kneeled beside the bed, taking y/n’s hand in his. “How about I make you something to eat? Like that shakshuka, if you’re willing?”

The sharp prick of the thorns at her sides eased with Jason’s healing touch, a superpower he could never bring himself to see. Y/n nodded, grinning weakly at the handsome man tending to her.

She sat up and watched Jason as he whisked away in the kitchenette, involved in the meticulous cooking. “You know, you can take a picture. It’ll last a lot longer.” Jason leaned over the island, cutting board in hand, and winked at y/n, clearly calling her out for staring too long at him.

What could y/n say though? She loved it. She felt the comfort that only domestication could bring, something she believed, until this very moment, she was allergic to. And to be proven wrong by a twenty-something-year-old man with the body type of a linebacker?

Y/n had to be dreaming. Either that, or the fairy godmother enriching her Gotham experience was soon to be waving her wand and pulling the rug from under her.

“Depends. If I put music on, would you shake your ass for the camera?” Disney princess or not, y/n wouldn’t dare to lose her sharp tongue.

Jason stopped his chopping and stabbed the cutting board with the paring knife, walking over to the threshold between the living space and kitchenette, hand on his naked hips. “Darling,” he began with a long, dragged out Southern drawl, “you know you don’t have enough money to afford that.”

Y/n giggled, the first time she did that night, and watched as Jason dramatically swayed his hips as he strut his hips back to the cutting board. She shot up from the bed with a grunt, stretching her arms overhead before she walked to her record player, fingering through her stack. She picked one from the stack and carefully placed the vinyl on the platter, gingerly setting the needle before flipping the button to ignite its power.

A series of percussion and guitar immediately began playing through the speakers, the distorted voice tying the sounds all together. Y/n walked to the kitchen and rested against the wall, waiting for Jason to finish placing the eggs on the skillet so she could invite him to dance with her.

After washing his hands, Jason offered his hand, immediately pulling y/n close to him as they held each other. In a space where she usually felt like a stranger, Jason was the key piece to make her feel at home. “How do you get all this music, anyway? Employee discount?”

“Used to steal from FYE before they fired me.” Y/n replied without missing a beat, a shameless smile rising on her face.

“Fuck, I love you.” Jason cupped the back of y/n’s head and brought her to a deep kiss, their lips tangling.

And that was how their night was spent - bodies intertwining in an attempt to display affection in various ways. Y/n hummed along as she kissed along Jason’s torso, her lips wrapping around the head of his dick before swallowing what she could of it, pulling her head back with a pop;

Jason scooped up a forkful of shakshuka, feeding it to a sleepy y/n. He lowly sang Nancy Wilson as he did so, the voice warmer than the spiced tomato sauce, and smoother than the cashew milk Jason brought to wash down the meal with (so considerate, y/n purred after Jason slid his cock into her cunt, walls pulling him in deeper).

They exchanged vows in forms of stolen kisses and laughs, Jason falling asleep first on the brink of their honeymoon as the sun shone through the gaps between the curtains. Y/n didn’t want to fall asleep; her boyfriend was gorgeous even in his sleep. Gracious was how she felt as she gazed upon the beauty.

The darkness suited him, moon reflecting in his werewolf face (a daunting secret eating at him, only to be exposed by the climax of the lunar phases); however, the sunlight, when he was fearless enough to immerse in the innocence of it, called to him. It was a dear old friend of his, surely, as they reconnected with such familiarity: the warm colors of the bright sky dyed his hair, its ethereal tones complimenting the cool brown, green, and gray hues in his eyes (when he did wake up).

“I love you.” his mouth moved, voice sleepy and hazy, plump lips moving to a grin, the stretch of his lip curling up enough for her to feel its embrace. And if it wasn’t for the formality (curse those - who hadn’t heard of a morning kiss?), y/n would have reached over and connected their lips, united them by a twizzler of wanton and affection.

Yet they sat, eyes fusing in a tunneled stare. Y/n didn’t want to look away; Jason was afraid this was the dream, and falling back to the sheets would snatch him back to the nightmare he lived.

The indie mix sounded in the background, blended together with the chitchat of the Gothamites rising in the dangerous world just outside of y/n’s and Jason’s, and the everything they didn’t care about in that moment. Y/n now comprehended the campy cheeriness of Peter, Bjorn, and John’s hit - I only care about you and me. You and me.

[eternallyhauntingthehouseoflove]

Bat-Boys in Bed

I couldn’t find a good gif, sue me

Dick Grayson’s mouth is filthy. And he gets enough praise, so I think he’d be into praising you instead.” You’re so pretty, all fucked-out and dumb…just for me” as he pounds into you, panting in between words.

He’d also be into touchy sex positions, like missionary where he can hook his nose into your neck and wrap his arms around you. Dick would be into you giving him hickies.

I think Dick has an insane stamina—round after round. His hips would meet yours at a punishing pace as he muttered out praise,” this cunt is so warm and wet for me. My beautiful girl.” And he place wet kisses to your neck and cheeks.

Dick isn’t above moaning, but he’s not pornographic about it.i see him whimpering and begging if he’s getting a blow job or if you’re on top and teasing him, but I don’t see him moaning as much or more than you.

Jason Todd isn’t much of a talker during sex, but I do believe he moans. He’d be a lot more gentle with you than popular belief thinks. Especially if we’re talking older, mature Jason who’s passed his “fresh from the pit madness.”

I do believe Jason has a choking kink and I’ll die on this hill. And it doesn’t have to be his hand around your throat or vice versa. It can be him shoving his cock to the back of your throat and feeling you pulse and throb around him.

He enjoys, mature Jason too, seeing your eyes go wide and glassy. Jason loves to pull his cock from your mouth after you’ve had enough and seeing your lips plump and pink. He loves the slight flush of your tits.

Jason is a lot more eager to switch roles and be on the bottom than Dick. If you’re feeling top-ish and want to ride. Jason wouldn’t argue as you ground down on him, rolling your hips and leaving a trail of slick on his pelvis.

He’d beg through covered lips as you shushed him and picked up your pace, driving your hips forward and giving Jason the release he’d been craving.

I don’t know enough about Tim or Duke, sorry.

Bruce is harder to read because there’s decades of lore, canon, and stuff that’s not in the main continuity. Many writers have different versions of him that some favorite—however, here goes.

Bruce is a control freak. Whether you planned it or not, you’d end up in a dom/sub dynamic. He’d be choosing your clothes, picking which jewelry he buys, telling you when to cum before you even realize it.

I also think he has a power imbalance kink, just a little bit. Nothing extreme or megalomaniacal. So I truly believe you wouldn’t be rich (sorry lol); you’d maybe be a lesser known vigilante, and that’s if Bruce is healthily interested in you. I believe you’d be a civilian, but a smart and compassionate one. We know Bruce isn’t one to dumb himself down for company; we know Bruce is attracted to smart women, but none of his past relationships worked because they didn’t have a heart ( I love Talia, but he real; she wasn’t Mother Teresa).

This one may lose people, but I believe Bruce has a breeding kink. It would be a chance for him to restart. His only blood child is an arrogant, cold assassin and the rest of his children are masked vigilantes who dance with death nightly. But with you, his love, he could have a child not born in pain and anger. He’s older and wiser; he’s not as vengeful and mission oriented as he was when he adopted Dick and Jason; Tim sought him out, and Damian came with a chip on his shoulder.

Bruce is unyielding in his refusal to switch places. He’s too paranoid and enjoys control too much to bottom. The closest you’ll get to topping is bossing him around from the bottom.” faster, pretty boy.” You reached up and caressed his face as his pace stuttered and he spilled into you, gasping and groaning as he did.

You wouldn’t be fucked in the suit or the Batmobile. And he hates being called Batman in bed. The closest you’d get to mixing sex with his vigilante life is getting fucked in the Batcomputer seat.

Damian Wayne is the kinkiest Batfam member. I see Damian, who didn’t undergo such a beautiful arc, having a blood and bondage kink.

Damian preferred to tie you down rather than tie you up. He cares for you, and tying you up puts you in an uncomfortable position (he doesn’t want that) and it screws with your circulation. And if he ties you down, he can see your face as he places the vibrator right on your clit. He can see you try to knock your knees—to no avail.

Damian loved to take a small knife and inflict a wound, if you can even call it that. It was feather soft, and you loved when he would wrap his mouth around the wound and suck the blood. Then he’d kiss you, letting the saliva and metallic taste mingle.

I believe Damian would be into hickies and spanking too, but not the for the violence like I see from the kinkier side of the fandom. He would be into hickies, spanking, bandage, and blood play for the markings. It all boiled down to markings. And that’s not to claim that those activities didn’t get you both off, but Damian’s true enjoyment stemmed from the possessiveness of it all.

That’s why he likes to untie you and massage the rope imprints, then walk you to the mirror and spin you around, letting you see all the prints and marks. He could feel himself harden again, but he knew he’d break you if he ever tried to impose his libido and stamina on you.

Don’t kill me, but Damian isn’t into cunnilingus. He also wouldn’t bottom, not like you’d want him to. If, and that’s a huge “if” ( it’s months into the relationship too), he does bottom, it’s not traditional bottoming. Damian would top from the bottom,” go slower, grind harder, beloved.” And he’d grip your hips hard enough to leave prints, because marks, duh!

Damian likes sloppy blow jobs. I know he’s proper and clean, but trust me. Spit, moans, and whimpers; that’s what gets him off. And seeing your cheeks flush and your breathing quicken, but you keep going lower and taking more of him in. He appreciates the determination, and it makes him feel in control, huge, and dominant which strokes his ego.

[trashland-llamas]

Pillowy

x gn reader

Jason Todd who loves when you're lazing about and your shirt rides up, exposing your plump stomach. Who tries not to be too obvious, knowing the moment you become aware of it, you'll readjust your shirt.

So he pretends to focus on the random show playing on the TV in the background. Staring at you from the corner of his eye as you looked so damn cozy sitting on the cushion next to him.

With a knee propped up and the other leg outstretched. Growing restless, Jason finally rests a hand near your belly button. 'Jay?'

'You're so soft.' He whispers, rubbing his hand across your skin. He doesn't care that there's blemishes or bumps. He finds it rather interesting when he comes across a happy trail.

A curious explorer of your body even though it's not his first time seeing it. 'So pillowy.' Squeezing the bits that spill over to your love handles. All his movements made the fat jiggle.

His calloused palms were a stark yet welcomed contrast. As the touch had no malicious intent, exposing the softer side of the dangerous man.

Caught up in the moment, Jason dips his head. Causing you to think he's going to kiss you. Just for him to leave a slobbery raspberry on your stomach. 'Jason! You goof!' Laughing as you fail to sound mad.

[kimberly-spirits13]

How the Batfam Reacts to Dick and Jason Dating a Black Widow HC

Dick:

• He met you on a mission where you were partnered together

• Dick immediately recognized the emblem on your suit showing that you were a Widow

• He was suspicious at first thinking that you were still with the organization until he heard you talking about it

• “Dreykov stood no chance against the freed widows.” He heard you explaining to Wonder Woman, “I hope that they’re doing well on Themyscira”

• He knew that if you were in cahoots with Diana, you must be sound

• When you were on the mission, you started talking a lot

• You thought he was funny and charming and he thought you were smart and witty

• Dick liked that you could handle yourself in situations and that you had grown from everything that had happened to you, not crumble from it

• When the mission was over, you two exchanged numbers

• One day, a few months later, you texted him and said that you were looking to move to Gotham

• You wanted to know if he’d go look at apartments with you since he knew Gotham better

• He was so excited and despite him trying to play it cool, everyone knew that he was up to something

• He made the excuse that Wally was doing some apartment shopping and wanted to hang out that week

• Let’s be honest, when you find your apartment you probably hook up or have a Disney binge night

• After a wild weekend, he heads back to the manor and is glowing

• Always on his phone

• Is in a good mood

• Sneaks off during patrol

• The works

• Everyone knew that he must be dating someone, it was so obvious

• When everyone finally finds out that he’s dating a Widow, it’s because they follow him to your apartment

• He’s there to work on some detective stuff that was going around in Gotham

• You had your monitors set up and your suit laying over the sofa when Tim, Jason, and Steph broke in through the window

• You pushed Dick behind the coach, rolling to take cover while you drew a Glock that was tucked in your waistband

• “Stand still, hands where I can see them!”

• “Y/N/N, those are my siblings!” Dick said tackling you, “idiot siblings at that”

• “You’re dating a Widow?!” While Jason still had his helmet on, his sense of surprise was evident

• “You’re dating a Widow and you called her by a nickname?” Steph gawked, “Never in all my days-“

• “You guys can’t tell Bruce!” Dick said frantically, “Tim don’t you dare touch that com”

• “Too late.” Damian came into the apartment, giving it a once over and glaring at you, “So this is the distraction that has been plaguing Grayson.” “Is he paying you to court him?”

• Bruce came into the apartment later to haul his kids out after they had basically interrogated you about life and how you and Dick were dating

• Bruce was suspicious of you at first, as he is, but after a few weeks, you were invited to patrol with everyone

• You and Jason trauma bonded and shot guns together

• Cass and Damian liked you since you were an assassin, and a skilled one at that

• Steph liked you cause you were pretty and badass

• Babs and Timmy thought you were intelligent and a good friend to have

• Bruce and Alfred eventually come around, Bruce likes that you’re loyal and intelligent

• Alfred likes that you’re not a crazy clout chaser

• Everyone adjusts really well to you quickly, and you easily become part of the family

Jason:

• You two met while you were rehabilitating on Themyscira with Diana as your mentor

• You and Artemis had quickly become friends and she had you come with her on a mission

• You needed something at a faster pace that you could exercise your skills with

• Artemis introduced you to Jason and you two hit it off quickly

• She noticed this and had you two paired up for a mission

• She’s not Artemis anymore y’all, she’s Cupid/ Eros and she just shot Jason Todd in the butt with an arrow

• He’s so gushy over you

• Puppy dog eyes and everything

• At first he’s like, it’s got to be the Russian accent

• But after a few hours, he knew it definitely wasn’t the accent

• When you’re still living at Themyscira, he asks Artemis to take you on as many missions as possible so that he can see you

• When you’re finally done living on the island, he’s the first to offer a new place

• Wants you to live at once of his safe houses in Gotham

• You would accept the offer but you already had gotten an apartment

• Jason was so depressed about it until you told him that it was in Gotham

• “What- you’re like my only friend. I’m not moving to LA or something.” You told him

• He was just puppy eyes and gushy

• Everyone saw a change in his demeanor and they were suspicious of what was going on

• Steph and Dick followed him one night to your apartment where they saw you in your widow suit and him in his red hood suit eating messy burgers and fries

• His boots and helmet were strewn about on the floor and weapons were littering the kitchen table

• He probably has his head in your lap at one point for you to string your fingers through your hair

• They’re both excited and rush back to the cave to spill the beans

• A few days later Dick tells Jason that he should invite his new gf over

• “You dickhead how’d you know about that! We’re you stalking me?”

• Maybe Dick was

• When you showed up to the manor, Damian immediately challenged you to a sparing duel

• Everyone but Jason was hesitant and when you landed the kid on his butt he was beaming with joy

• That’s when you earned Cass and Tim’s respect

• Damian liked you now too, but he wasn’t going to admit it after that beat down

• Bruce got to know more about you mainly from Diana

• Since he trusted her, it was easier to not be so suspicious about you

• Alfred liked you since you brought out the good in Jason and you were good help when he needed it

• The entire family ends up liking you really quickly, but you have to start setting boundaries about them coming and crashing in your place at some ungodly hour of the night

• Sometimes, the last thing you want to see at 4am is Dick Grayson sprawled out on the coach with his dogs out

• Jason is always welcome though

[lxvvie]

You and your never-ending quest to make Jason Todd blush.

And it's working, gorgeous. Christ, it's working.

If it isn't the gifts you spring up on him out of abso-fucking-lutely nowhere, it's the compliments. He's every kind of pretty, hot, gorgeous, stunning, everything that lets him know he's the most beautiful thing you've ever laid your eyes on, and fuck if his cheeks aren't flaming hot.

And if it isn't either one of those, it's the way you remind Jason that he's better than he thinks he is and while he may not be the quintessential paragon of virtue, he's what the city needs, and you can't imagine a world without him. That and he makes some good ass coffee in the morning.

Gee, thanks, baby.

But what really gets Jason is the way you look at him, the way you see past the scars and tough exterior and he can't help but wonder if he looks as lovestruck as you do whenever he sees you because he feels it—feels you—with every fiber of his being.

And then you surprised him with flowers one day—"I saw them and they reminded me of you, Jaybear."

And not only is his entire face on fire, but he's a puddle of fuckin' goo.

He'd be a fuckin' liar if he said they didn't, either.