#jtdrabble*

[whltlock]

“playfully biting someone” from the physical affection prompts with jason todd pls?? i want to bite him <33

A/N: i need to bite him so bad

C/W: suggestive content, but nothing explicit

↠ requests

i.

Jason’s arm is wrapped around your shoulders, but he’s wearing short sleeves, so the curve of his muscle sits by your face. You stare at it, willing yourself to behave, but ultimately, you give into temptation.

One moment he’s watching TV, the next he’s jerking you inwards as your teeth sink into his bicep. “Hey!” he cries, flicking your temple in retaliation. He huffs, eying how your expression’s contorted into innocence. “The fuck was that for?”

“You look so yummy. Couldn’t help it.”

His eyes turn to slits as he stares at you. Eventually, he makes another incredulous noise, but he stops glaring.

ii.

You’re on top of him in his car, wild hands where they shouldn’t be in public, breath fogging the windows. Your lips are swollen, chest heaving as you break away from his hungry mouth.

His head tilts back as your mouth moves down his throat. You kiss and suck lightly, but Jason realises his mistake too late. Your teeth are already lodging themselves into his neck.

“Fuckin’ vamp,” he says, voice strained as he holds in a moan. “Should I learn to grow garlic?”

You smile into his skin. “That’s a myth,” you murmur, laving over the sensitive spot, causing him to shiver. A red blush blooms beneath his goose pimples.

“Right,” he says, hands gliding up your bare sides, edging your shirt upwards. “I’ll invest in stakes, then.”

iii.

He’s fresh out the shower, glowing, sexy, a stormy mist left in his wake. As such, your feet take you to him without another thought.

Immediately, your hands slide over his water-warmed skin, revelling in his mass and scars. He watches you wordlessly, enjoying your fond touch.

You hold his waist as you start to kiss his chest. You kiss his jaw, his throat, his collarbones. Your fingers run over his body, memorising all the planes.

“Which god let you leave their army?” you tease, eyes flicking up to his. His head tilts sheepishly.

You keep touching him, kissing his skin, tasting him, and eventually your mouth closes over his nipple. He leans into you, tangling a hand in your hair.

But he’s ready for you this time. His grasp tightens, forcing your chin up. “Swear to god if you take a bite out of my tits,” he says in a warning tone, though his expression is anything but dangerous. Dangerous for your clothes, maybe. “You’ll find out who cut me loose.”

You lick your lips, then a smile pushes your cheeks apart. “Is that a promise?”

Jason tugs at your roots sharply, pulling a heated sound from you. His voice is gravelly as he answers, “Yeah, baby. It is.”

+ iv.

You lay on your stomach, scrolling through your phone as you wait for Jason to come to bed. You hear him enter the room moments later, almost as silent as a cat as he closes the door.

The bed dips as he climbs onto it. You don’t acknowledge him yet. However, it’s to his advantage as his fingers crawl to the bottom of your shirt. They slip beneath, and then he’s lifting it up, revealing your ass to the air.

He gives your backside a squeeze with a pleased hum, admiring the view. You wiggle a little, adding to the show. You know he likes it when his hand passes over your skin more than a few times.

But then—teeth latch in your flesh, and you jump with a gasp. “Jason!”

There’s an imprint left as he pulls away laughing. He flops beside you, bearing a gorgeous, sunny grin. “Not as fun when it’s you, huh?”

“Actually…”

“Careful,” he says with a playful slap to your ass, still smiling. “Better watch out, ‘cause I get it now.”

[savage-rhi]

"I had a dream that Benedict Cumberbatch could morph into an otter or a cucumber...probably because his name reminds me of vegetables." She shrugged and sighed. "You know JT is really fucked in the head when.." She laughed.

[whltlock]

A/N: this little thing is for @midnightdotdragon ♥

Summary: 308 words. Domestic fluff/softness with the tiniest speck of sensuality.

Jason’s inky curls unravel as he moves onto your lap, knees pinning your hips in place. White falls across his forehead, unfurling like an invitation. You lean back onto your palms, sinking into the mattress, and look up at him with a slight twist to your mouth. There’s a glint to his expression—perhaps slyness—as his eyes skirt across your face. You’re intrigued. Neither of you say anything as you assess the other.

And then he slopes forward with intention, and you prepare yourself for a kiss, but it’s one that never comes. His mouth catches just east of your mouth. You try to right it, to find his warm pout, but he escapes once more.

Jason’s lips brush along your jaw, drawing closer and closer to the juncture of your head and neck. His teeth briefly graze a sensitive spot, plucking a shiver from you. From there, his mouth works with more intensity, and he sucks and nips at skin. You make soft, involuntary gasps.

Your head lolls as he pulls your shirt aside, revealing more skin, more clavicle, more places to kiss and devour and savour. He follows bone, alternating high and low, teasing the ticklish hollow of your throat. He likes how hard you swallow. He especially likes it when your hands flutter to his hair.

It takes the smallest nudge for you to fall back, for your limbs to go loose as you hand him this precious, intimate moment. His trail of gratitude starts on your sternum and moves up the column of your throat.

It’s when those dark tendrils hang over your face that his voice finally rouses from the depths of his chest. Tone husky but pleasant, he says, “You didn’t tell me you knew how to pick locks.”

“You were late.”

With a head shake, he gives a breathy scoff. “Five minutes.”

[whltlock]

..”why are you staring at me?” w/ jay plsss? i love love love your writing :)

A/N: ❤❤❤

Jason exhales, loud and obnoxious. His eyes float to you. “What’s wrong with my face this time?” he asks, feigning petulance as he calls out your staring.

Your tongue clicks. “Oh, a lot of things. You want it in alphabetical or most to least concerning?”

He snorts, jaw turning the other way to hide his amusement.

But then you’re climbing onto his lap, face hovering over his, and he can’t look anywhere else.

“I know a cure-all,” you tell him coyly.

“Yeah?” He licks his lips, trying not to look at yours. “You’d be so kind?”

You nod. “I’m feeling generous today.” Your fingers sweep through his white bangs, coiling around a pretty curl.

You kiss his nose first, and then each of his cheeks, and then the scars that are hidden in his brows. Your lips tickle his jawline and his chin and his forehead.

Jason sighs, head tipping backwards. “Y’know, kinda feels like it’s working, but you better make sure.”

Dutifully, you smother your smile against his mouth.

[whltlock]

“I’m not wearing any underwear. Thought you’d like to know.” from the smut prompts with our boy Jason please?? I love your writing!!

A/N: i'm sorry, it's troll hours 😭😭😭

You’re sparring, Jason’s back to the mat as you climb on top of him. You’ve gotten the upper hand for the first time in ten minutes so you’re smug as you look down at him. His pinned wrists wiggle a little, although he seems unbothered as he meets your eyes. You think his waist is an extremely comfortable seat, fit only for a winner.

Jason licks his lips, then says, “I’m not wearing any underwear. Thought you’d like to know.”

The sheer unexpectedness of it makes you burst out into laughter, hand to your mouth as you try to contain it. You laugh harder as he pouts, his hands escaping to grab your hips. Abruptly, you flop onto the mat beside him. He follows, crawling over you.

“What?” he demands, brows raised petulantly. It’s not often his silly side is unleashed like this.

A break in your giggles means you’re able to say, “That’s how you wanna play it? By seducing me like a sore loser?”

“Well…” he hums, hands slipping beneath your shirt, nose bumping yours, “is it working?”

“Not quite,” you murmur, playing along. “But you should give it another shot.”

You feel the stretch of his smile as his lips brush over yours, fulfilling both your wishes.

[whltlock]

Hi for blurb request can you do Angst - "I love you" with Jason Todd and fem!reader. Thank you💕

“Jason, stop!”

You scrabble after him, desperate to persuade him from escape. You barely touch him before he jerks out of reach. His expression is fraught.

“Don’t,” he warns, voice snagging on emotion.

“Jason,” you say. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

“Don’t,” he repeats, the plea stronger and louder this time.

“Stay,” you say, trying to keep your limbs from shaking. “I love you, Jay, and I want you to stay.”

He visibly swallows and unspoken words roll around on his tongue. His head shakes a little. “It’s not enough,” he says, cutting through your soul. “It won’t fix me. We both know that.”

“It doesn’t have to.”

His expression keeps you silent. He looks just as hurt as you feel, but he’s going to dig the knife deeper into the wound.

His breaths rattle. “I’m not gonna keep doing this to you,” he says resolutely. “I see what it does and I—” His voice cracks and his eyes dart away. “I love you too much to put you through it anymore.”

“Jason—”

He closes the distance in a flurry, mouth on yours, wet with salty tears. He kisses you harshly, hands cupping your face, memorising the sensation for his future lonely nights. You’re stunned, but you find purchase in his shirt. Maybe you can convince him like this, you think.

But he breaks away all too soon and leans his forehead against yours. Your eyes stay squeezed shut.

“Find someone better,” he breathes. His lips just barely brush over yours one last time. “Do that for me.”

And then he’s gone, and you feel as he swings out the window with your broken, stolen heart.

[whltlock]

“You, uhm–kinda touched my–yeah..” from the sexual tension prompts + best friend!jason who’s had a crush on you since you were kids ??? i would give you my firstborn child

A/N: not in need of a child but i appreciate the willingness 😌

C/W: nothing explicit, just some light dick fondling lol.

You’re dozing in Jason’s arms and it’s perfect. You’re perfect, laying there, mouth open cutely. Sometimes you mumble nonsense before you snuggle closer, prying his warmth from him.

He feels a little like a creep, but you’ve never mentioned an opposition to it; never told him off.

Therefore he indulges, just a bit, because he can’t have all of you. Can’t have more than this.

He loves you—in the way a best friend shouldn’t—so he cuts himself on the comfortable moments. His heart swells at sights like these, and it expands until the thorns are nestled deep, forever embedded; forever a part of him.

It’s worth it to know you, he thinks. To have your light in his life.

Jason’s startled from his thoughts as you rouse, rolling closer. Your nose tickles his throat. You let out a hushed garble as you’re slow to wake.

Your hand slips out from under him and trails across his abdomen. It’s a slow descent that doesn’t stop. Every muscle in his body freezes painfully as you brush his low stomach. His heart sets off at a sprint.

For a minute, your fingers linger, and then they keep going, and fuck, they’re on his pants.

Don’tyoudaredon’tyoudaredon’tyoudare— he mentally screams at his crotch.

“Good morning,” you rumble sleepily.

Jason tries for a snort, though it’s more of a rasp. “Nope. It’s, like, two AM.”

He feels you smile against his skin. He wonders whether your hand is moving mindlessly, or if you’re being plain evil on purpose.

“You, ah…” he mumbles, petering off. Most of his brain power is going towards suppressing a boner.

“What?” you hum. “Did I sleep-talk again?”

“No…” Jason says. “You’re…” He inhales deeply and a flush swallows his neck. “You’re touching my—uh, yeah.”

He feels your eyes on him, burning him. You’re amused, he’s sure of it.

“What?” you repeat casually, feigning confusion.

He huffs. “You’re squeezing my goddamn dick, you asshole.”

You laugh at his indignation and he’s not entirely sure how to feel because clearly you’re fucking with him.

But then your fingertips slip beneath the elastic of his sweatpants. He sucks in a breath. They slide lower still, brushing through his scruff. He shivers.

“What’re you…?” Jason stumbles over his words. He tries to say your name, but it’s vanquished from his mouth with your mouth. Your tongue traces his bottom lip, hot and sour.

And suddenly, your hand encloses his length, and his mouth parts in shock. He grabs your wrist.

“I can’t,” he says, voice raw. “I can’t. Not if it doesn’t… mean something.”

You lean back so you can look at him. “Jason,” you say quietly, eyes not leaving his, memorising the emotional gloss of his ocean gaze. “It’s always meant something. We’ve always meant something.”

Once more, you brush your lips over his teasingly. “I’m just finally doing something about it.”

[whltlock]

“You’re really all i’ve got” with Jason please?

It feels like you’re standing at the edge of the world, but really, it’s just three in the morning.

Time doesn’t feel real when it’s just you, the crisp, silent air, and a numbskull holding a tissue to his bleeding nose.

You glance at Jason, and as soon as you do, you feel the weight of the world once more. So many bad things have happened lately. So many things lost, never to return. Too many hours spent crying and grieving and pleading with the universe.

“Jason?” you ask before your thoughts are even coherent.

“Yeah?” he responds nasally, nose still pinched to stop the flow.

“I need you to come home every night.” You swallow away desperation, then continue. “You’re all I’ve got, okay? So I need you to be care—”

Jason knows that feeling—he knows it all too well. It’s laced into his bones and not even a mythological pit can relieve him of it.

He cuts you off with your name, voice firm. The splotchy tissue falls into his lap. “We’re in this together,” he says. “I never forget that.”

Your eyes are glassy, gaze questioning.

His expression softens and he smiles smally. “This is my favourite part of the day,” he murmurs. His hand reaches for you and his fingertips skim your cheek. “And I’m not planning on losing it, okay?”

It cloaks the well of fear for the time being. You meet his hand with an eager nod.

[whltlock]

Not sure if you were still doing the prompts, and technically this isn’t on the list but I figured it doesn’t hurt to ask. But like it’s super late and your in the kitchen with your partner and your just kinda hanging out at opposite sides of the kitchen and they pull you in by your belt loops on your jeans just so they can hold you close. Hnng I’m such a slut for domestic affection. With Jason please. If you want to obviously

A/N: I feel you, anon. 100%. Casual intimacy is my downfall. GIF credit.

The kitchen’s dark, illuminated only by the interior fridge light. Jason rummages through its contents for a midnight—well, three AM—snack. He finds a stick of jerky and immediately it’s shoved into his gob, half hanging out as he lets the door swing shut. The room goes back to being dark. Faint moonlight trickles in through the window. He moves towards it, eyeing the sleeping city with vague interest.

The hair on his arms lifts as he senses a new presence in the room. You’ve been watching him from the doorway as he munches on his food. It’s adorable, especially because he’s still half-dressed in his Red Hood getup.

He doesn’t spin around; just lets you come to him.

Your chin butts into his back first, and then it’s your nose and your arms around his waist. You don’t say anything to begin with; just breathe in his scent that’s been mixed with a life outside. He revels in the feeling, leans into your embrace, feels the rumble of your chest against his back.

Eventually, your hands slide to his belt straps. You tug on them, urging him to turn.

He does without hesitation, jaw dropped low so your mouths can meet. It’s a sweet kiss; a token that says welcome home and glad to be here.

Jason rests his forehead against yours, enjoying how your fingers card through his sweaty locks. He exhales, thankful for whatever reigns in the skies above that’s given him a life with you.

[whltlock]

Hiii... I usually don't do asks like this so sorry if it's weird or whatever. Could I get something with jason and a reader with really low self esteem, but not like all the time like, an oscillating self esteem, if that makes sense. Just really need some comfort with our big tittie man rn 🌚sorry if this ask is weird I am emotionally unintelligent 🙃

A/N: I hope this works for you! ❤❤❤❤❤❤ everyone deserves to feel like they have a rightful place on this earth, no matter what.

When Jason drapes himself across your lap, the action rouses a small smile from you. It pulls you from your stupor for a moment—but the moment’s well and truly fleeting as you look towards the skyline again.

The sun isn’t so shy today, and the breeze is somewhat warm as it brushes past. There’s no explosions or sirens polluting the city air. And yet.

And yet none of it feels as good as it should. It feels like you amount to less than the tally of all of these good things, and you think maybe you haven’t earned the peace. That’s why you’re not satisfied, not content enough, to experience the moment fully.

Jason catches your sigh. His knuckles float towards your jaw in question.

Slowly, you look down at him, thoughts blaring. Why are you here?

He nudges you, trying to free the words that are stuck in your throat. You touch his hand and your cheek sinks into his palm with an upset noise.

“You’re so… accomplished,” you rasp. “Gotham gets a little better each day because of you.” Your voice remains low and ragged as you voice your thoughts. “People are safer, happier with you around…” You could go on: he’s witty, delectably smart, overly skilled and always eager to learn more, and somehow he manages to be modest about it all.

He’s everything, and anything you’ve ever done pales in comparison. It nicks your heart.

“But I’m not. I do nothing like that.”

For the first time since his arrival, Jason exhales loudly. It’s the sound of distilled disappointment. Your eyes flick to him with shame. His gaze doesn’t meet yours and instead, he runs a hand through his curls as he considers his response.

He licks his lips in preparation, then says, “I do those things so everyone else gets to have an easier life. God, babe, just surviving is a massive accomplishment. People should get to live—really live. It’s a waste to base your worth on a few bucks.”

You swallow as heat builds behind your eyes. His bleeding heart—and honesty—snatches the breath from your lungs.

Jason looks at you now, his expression earnest. “It makes me happy to see you sit outside and enjoy the sun, or burn toast and still eat it, or take ten minutes to choose which can of beans you want for the week while everyone in the aisle has to push past you—”

You poke Jason’s chest with a watery laugh, and he laughs too.

“I love watching you be human, not worrying about success because someone else forced you to.” He touches your elbow thoughtfully, fingertips grazing over your skin to comfort you. “Those little moments are all that matter. That’s what I protect,” he says, voice soft as he looks up at you. “Okay?”

You wipe your eyes with a sniffle and say, “Now I have to add motivational speaker to your CV.”

Jason’s arm wrings your neck as he struggles not to laugh. “You will not catch me giving a TedTalk.”

“We’ll see.”

He hauls you closer and you settle into his hold, mentally repeating his words over and over again, letting them douse you with knowledge.

You’re free. You’re lovable. You’re worth everything even when society says you’ve done nothing.

[whltlock]

if you're still taking prompts can I ask for "Smoothing your fingers down your lover's tie, fixing where your lover couldn't tie it right." with Jason from the prompts list?? I just finished bruised strawberries and I have terminal Jason brainrot lmao

A/N: I feel you on the Jason brainrot 😭 Glad you liked BS tho!!

You move Jason’s trembling fingers away from where he fiddles with his tie. You take over, your movements slow and precise as you fix his wonky suit. Fingers trailing over his outfit, you give him an appreciative onceover.

“Pretty as a peach,” you murmur, shooting him a sweet smile.

Jason swallows thickly, chin dipping as he tries to hide from the compliment. You brush upwards, fingertips grazing his cheekbones and twisting around the lone white curl that hangs over his forehead. He’s so, so very attractive, and his nervousness has always been endearing as hell.

“There’s still time to call this off,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, as if anything louder would shatter the delicate atmosphere of the room.

His eyes shoot upwards hastily. “No, I—” Jason sighs softly. His hands come to rest on your shoulders where he toys with the sash that rests there. “I want this,” he says. He thumbs at a sewn-on golden coin, dazed because he knows that in the next hour you’ll share a last name. He never thought he’d see the day.

Then, Jason snorts with a shake of his head. “Besides, you know how much shit my family would give me for being a runaway groom?”

With a roll of your eyes, you give him a light punch. You’re practically eloping with how small of a crowd that’s invited. Neither of you could face the swathes of Gotham at a ceremony. “You’ve never let them stop you.”

His mouth pulls up at the corner. “True.”

It’s at that moment that Dick knocks and pops his head between the ajar door. “They’re almost ready for you two,” he says, and visibly, he looks far more excited than he should be considering it’s not even his wedding.

You look at Jason. “Last chance.”

He grins. “No way, sweetheart. You’re stuck with me.” He chases his words with a kiss to the temple as he ushers you out of the room.

💘 Requests open for Pietro Maximoff, Jason Todd, and Roy Harper.

[whltlock]

Verse: Sex!Worker Reader/Jason Todd

C/W: implied sexual violence (mentioned, not described), reader is injured, hurt/comfort

Jason lands gracefully on the rooftop, a blithe red and black panther that glides through the night.

Harsh sobs fill the air and immediately, he rips his helmet off and strides towards the couch. He sinks in front of you. You’re crumpled in on yourself, face hidden, hands cradled to your chest. His heart aches at the sight.

Slowly, Jason places a hand on your knee and whispers your name. It makes you cry harder, and his chest constricts. His mouth goes desert dry, but he manages to ask, “What’s going on?”

You don’t answer as your body continues to rattle with weeps. They sound deeply wounded, like they’re emanating from your very core. Unfixable. Jason wonders if this is the night he gets you out of here.

But he can’t do that yet—he can’t just whisk you away. He needs your permission. He gives you the control you don’t get anywhere else. The self-determination you deserve.

Instead, he rests his chin on your thigh. “Hey,” he says softly. “I’m here. I got you. You’re safe.”

Jason repeats it again and again, his tone low, mouth brushing over your skin so you know it’s okay. His fingers graze your knee. He doesn’t know if it’s too far, but you don’t object.

Eventually, your sobs lessen, and you let the sounds of the night take over. You shift a little and expose a slither of your face in the process.

“What…?”

As you uncurl fully, the question dies on his tongue. It’s a slap to the face as he takes in your split shirt, the loosely hanging collar that reveals a bikini beneath, and the uneven tear in your skirt. Fury piles in his veins.

He pushes onto his knees and his hands turn to white-knuckled fists. His teeth are bared as he swears in a dangerous tone, “Motherfuckers.” A violent plan forms behind his eyes. Blood will coat the walls, and they’ll have to redecorate with carved bone ornaments.

Jason doesn’t have to ask for an explanation. Looking at you, he gets the gist. He knows something bad, awful, terrible has happened. You’ve had the night from hell and he wasn’t there to stop it.

He wants to get to his feet and take care of things, but one glance at you, and he pauses. Your face is sallow and slightly bruised, but what scares him more is the faraway look to your eyes. He sinks back onto his haunches and says your name like it’s a plea. Come back to me. Come with me.

Your eyes flick to him, gaze uncharacteristically shaken. He forces himself to maintain eye contact, to swallow the bile that burns his throat.

They hurt you, worse than usual, perhaps irreparably. The thoughts run on a cycle through his mind. He might not see you again because of it.

His lips form around your name, though they never make it out. You flinch, then wrap an arm around your opposite elbow in a poor imitation of a hug.

“He…” you say, and your voice box sounds broken as you speak for the first time since the assault. “A client wanted…” Your eyes drop to your lap, teary. “What I don’t do,” you say. “Where I don’t…” Want it, is what you try to say. Even a whore has her limits.

You choke a little as Jason’s forehead falls against your knee. You feel his shaky breath, like he’s just as distraught. Cautiously, he wraps his arms around your calves and holds you like that; the only comfort he feels he can offer.

“Did he…?” Jason croaks out the question. Did they get their way?

“Not tonight,” you rasp, voice fraught. “Next time,” you say, and then repeat, “next time they’ll make me.”

His head lifts and he focuses on you. His mouth is sour. That previous plea sings again—

But you’re not looking at him. Your eyes are on your hand. The hand, he notices, that’s bent at an odd, disgusting angle at the wrist, mangled with dark bruises and swelling.

His breath hitches, and instantly he knows, “It’s broken.”

“I should’ve let them have me,” you say raggedly. “Shouldn’t have fought it…”

“Don’t,” Jason says, nostrils flaring momentarily. Either way, it was an impossible choice. “You’re not to blame, alright?”

The intonation at the end doesn’t rise—it’s not really a question. You swallow.

“It hurts,” you whisper pathetically, allowing him to pry it closer into view.

His indignation softens. “I know,” he murmurs and places a kiss to your thumb. “Christ, I’m sorry.” Jason sighs as he readies himself for your next argument. After an anxious beat, he says, “I gotta get you fixed up.”

“No,” you’re quick to reply. “No hospitals. You know I can’t—”

He says your name firmly, and then, “There’s a clinic in the Narrows and the docs are discreet. No hospitals, promise.”

Your eyes dart across his face wildly. “They’ll break my other one.”

At that, Jason stands. He cups your face with both hands, expression serious, and tilts your chin skyward. “If we don’t get some kinda cast on this it won’t heal right,” he says. “We’ll wrap it inconspicuously and be back in a flash, okay?”

Your functional hand clutches at his. “Jason…”

“Please, sweetheart,” he says softly, gaze earnest as he stares at you. “Let me do my thing and help you for once.”

Tears trickle down your cheeks, but you relent with a nod.

[whltlock]

So… Jason Todd reaction when the girl he is in love with but hasn’t confessed, hugs him and is affectionate to him

Ps: she also has a crush on Jason but didn’t confessed it either cause she knows he has issues being Hood and the way he dies, also the abandon issues… so she is afraid that he says he loves her too only to not lose her, so that’s the reason she doesn’t confess her feelings for him.

A/N: this is kind of tragic lol. i hope you're not suffering like this irl anon. life is too short to not love freely and fully. if someone leaves, that's on them, not you ♥

The apartment reeks of your lunch, but it’s pleasant, homely; endearingly so as you watch Jason ladle noodles into bowls. He twirls and tops them with herbs and cheese like he’s a Michelin-star chef. His unfailing fealty to the act makes your heart ache with love.

Everyday you hope, desperately, for that devotion to extend to you. You know he loves you in some capacity—he wouldn’t keep you around otherwise—but you’re not sure it’s enough.

You’re still lost in your thoughts when Jason totes the bowls into the living room. He bumps into you with an inviting smile and then climbs onto the fire escape. You grab a blanket before you follow.

You look out at the lively city that’s experiencing the warmth of the sun for the first time in weeks, take in the aromas of the home-cooked food, and along with the divine company, you can’t help but say, “This is perfect.”

Jason pauses. He swallows, then looks your way. “Yeah.” He licks his lips. “Yeah, it is.”

You try to restrain yourself—to not read between the lines—but you fail almost immediately. That disgusting, feral, plaguesome dash of hope returns. You want him to love you as you love him, well and truly, without the confines of fear.

You poke at your food as thoughts tumble around in your brain. You test what you want to say in the back of your throat, although it all sounds horribly mangled.

And then, instead, you blurt out: “Can I tell you something?”

Jason glances up. “Yeah?”

You exhale. “You have to promise it won’t change anything.”

His brow raises warily, otherwise wordless.

Your hand lands on his thigh. “I… I love you. As more than a friend.” You look down nervously. “And—and I’m afraid you’ll pretend to love me because of it.”

He’s quiet for a handful of moments. Slowly, his fingers brush over yours. Your eyes flick upwards as he says, “I don’t need to pretend.”

You search his face desperately, unsure whether he’s really telling the truth.

“I’ve been scared shitless that you’ll leave me because of it.”

There’s a shine to his eyes as his hand curls around yours, pulling it to his heart. You feel the faint thumps.

“I love you,” he says, soft and earnest. “Because you’re you.” The hapless smile that tugs at your mouth drops as he says, “But this should change things.”

You panic. “Jason—”

Abandoning his food, he shushes you with a clumsily placed, chaste kiss. You stare at him as he leans back, stunned.

“See?” he murmurs. “Things have to change so we can do that.”

A disbelieving laugh escapes you. “Don’t do that, you asshole.”

[whltlock]

For the writing blurb, I know this isn't on the list (I think), but could you write Jason waking the reader up in the morning, and she's all sleepy and he has to help her slowly wake up and it's just fluff and sweet :)

Jason watches the steady rise and fall of your chest, the soft breaths that make your baby hairs flutter, and the occasional twitch of a muscle spasm. He stares long enough that you must sense your observer because you roll closer to him, hand fumbling over the sheets blindly.

You find his chest and your fingers bunch into his shirt. His own hand goes for a wander and ends up on your stomach. He revels in the plushness of your body; the pads of his fingers memorise every goosebump and divot and curve. He traces a line up your sternum to your throat and along your jaw. Every bad thought of his is but an indistinct hum in the back of his mind as he lays there with you.

No longer content to merely watch on in lovesick silence, Jason leans in. He places several kisses along your jaw until you shy away. However, he doesn’t stop. Your sleepy grumbles activate his belligerent tendencies. His arm sweeps your middle and he headbutts your throat like the cat he denies he is. His nose is a menace against your skin as he draws a path to your earlobe. His heated whispers make you shiver and lure you from unconsciousness.

Your demand comes out slurred: “What’re you doing….? Lemme sleep.”

“Missed you,” he murmurs. The huskiness of his voice rouses you from the depths and as such, your hands are tangled in his curls before you’ve even blinked.

Suddenly just as needy, you pull him inwards for a proper kiss. It’s haphazard and a little sour but the passion is unmistakable. Your lips slide over his, tangible and receptive.

You’re only half awake, but his yearning trickles into your soul. Your arms wind around him and hold him tight so he knows everything’s good.

(There’s always been a mantra between you: You’re okay. You’re safe. I got you.)

But this time, the verbal confirmation is unnecessary because Jason feels your love for him in your fingertips alone.

[whltlock]

“Please don’t lie” and “kissing knuckles” w stripper reader and jay?

Sex worker!Reader/Jason Masterlist Tag

“Rough week?”

His hands rest in your lap, stained like Macbeth’s, raw and bruised. Cracks have decimated the fine lines of his skin, giving them the appearance of someone far older than he is.

You reach for the side table and swipe some sweet-smelling oil, then rub it between his fingers until they soak it up, and then you do it again.

“No,” Jason says.

Your eyes flick up as you say, “Don’t lie to me.” Carefully, you bring one of his hands to your mouth and kiss from knuckle to fingertip.

He watches, floundering in the gentleness. Hoarsely, he says, “You’re gonna get in trouble.”

Your mouth curls, wily in that seductive way of yours. “I don’t mind getting into trouble with you.”

Jason feels the flicker of something he hasn’t allowed himself to feel in years. In the recesses of his mind, a wisp floats by that sounds a lot like ‘I wanna get in trouble for you.’

He clears his throat, then says, “Not with me.”

Your expression softens. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not.” It comes out gruffer than he meant, but he pushes guilt aside. “It’s not,” he repeats, less harsh this time. “Don’t get yourself hurt over me.”

You sigh against his knuckles, breath slightly ticklish to him. “Okay,” you whisper.

But there’s something about the way you say it, the insistent press of your lips to his skin, that has him knowing this’ll end in trouble anyway.

[whltlock]

Um hi hello 👉👈are your Jason Todd requests open for a lil short? Don’t worry if not but hear me out… I’m English and I literally cannot stop thinking about secret romantic literature nerd Jane Austen fan Jason getting flustered when being called ‘love’ (or ‘luv’ in the accent) like even just casually I’m pretty sure he’d flush 💗

Also btw you’re such a talented writer and I’m high key jealous of your skill, everything you do is just 😙👌 have an amazing day!

A/N: thank you !!! & i hope this works for you :-)

When the door of the clinical room swings inwards, Jason sags with relief, feeling like he’s been trying to keep the blood inside of his body with just a handful of tissues for far too long.

“Christ, you sure know how to keep a man on his toes,” he grits out, eyes on his bloodied hands, wondering if his organs are close to falling out. He imagines scooping them off the stained floor and desperately shoving them back into place.

“Sorry, love.”

The honeyed accent is so unexpected that it hurts as his neck jerks upright. His gaze lands on you—a total stranger. And he’s been to the clinic enough to know everyone, so he falters immediately and immeasurably.

“I—uh,” Jason stumbles through his brain fog. His tongue darts over his lips nervously, recalling the sound of your voice, a million silly fantasies sprouting in the recesses of his mind. “You’re not… Thompkins.”

“No, I’m not,” you say, gloves snapping against your wrists as you finish pulling them on.

Finally, you make eye contact. Your expression is neutral, though your amusement is thinly veiled. You come towards him, and Jason’s mute as you swiftly check for a concussion.

“Do you speak to everyone like that, or is Leslie just that special?” you ask drily, palpating his throat. It’s visible when he swallows.

“No, I…”

You look him in the eyes again, and all he knows is that his face is fully flushed. He can only hope you think it’s because of his injuries, and not because he’s crumbling under the use of that pet name.

Pathetically, he lifts his hands like a child caught with dirty fingers, and mumbles, “Can’t think straight.” And it’s for more reasons than one.

You smile; thin, brief, but it’s there, he’s sure of it. The only thing he’s not sure about is whether or not he’s just fallen into one of his classics.