#red hood x reader

[dollishmehrayan]

# “WOULD YOU DO ANYTHING FOR ME?, BUY A BIG DIAMOND RING FOR ME?” ── .✦ ( how batboys act when they’re engaged w reader )

dollish note ౨ৎ: I lowkey crashed out over losing Americans on tiktok but this woke up to post on tumblr but hey, also can we talk about how trump used that as a pr stunt && thought we wouldn’t notice wtf like omgg the way many americans caught on, alsoo please leave some motivation for me because I just kinda lost motivation for this app after the tiktok thingy went down 🫠 tags: (batboys x engaged!reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Over the moon and not afraid to show it. Dick tells everyone the second you say yes. Alfred? He knows. Random stranger in the grocery store? The metro security guy?, Yep, they know too. He’s got that goofy, lovestruck grin plastered on his face 24/7.

Wedding planning enthusiast. You thought you’d do most of the planning? Wrong. Dick’s fully invested, showing you Pinterest boards of venues, color schemes, and “Do you think Nightwing blue (dollish note: I think ‘#3366CC’ perhaps?) would be tacky for the napkins?”

Gets sappy at random times. You’ll catch him staring at you with a dreamy look, and when you ask why, he just shrugs. “I’m just thinking about how lucky I am.”, “Dick calm down you only proposed like 2 weeks ago.”

Brags to the Batfam constantly. “Guys, I’m going to be a husband! Can you believe it? Me! Richard Grayson!” Bruce pretends to be joyful a bit but he’s done hearing it for the 777x time but even he cracks a small smile when Dick won’t shut up about you.

Practices saying his vows in the mirror. You walked in on him once, and he was mortified. “Okay, but you didn’t hear the good part yet!”, “You literally finished the whole paper !!”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Acts like it’s not a big deal, but it’s huge for him. He’ll play it cool at first, saying something like, “It’s just a ring, babe.” But deep down, he’s nervous, excited, and trying not to let it show.

Keeps the engagement low-key. Jason’s not one for flashy announcements or grand gestures. He wants this to be something special between you two, not the whole world.

Protective x10. Now that you’re officially going to be his spouse, Jason is extra watchful. He’s already looking into ways to keep you safe and makes sure you’re never caught in the crossfire of his vigilante life.

Wants you to be 100% comfortable. He checks in with you constantly about the wedding plans. “We don’t have to do anything big, okay? Just say the word, and it’s done.” He’ll let you take the lead but secretly loves when you include him.

Teases you with the whole “fiancé” thing. “Hey, fiancée. Can you grab my coffee? Oh, did I mention you’re my fiancée now?” It’s his way of hiding how excited he really is.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Nervous wreck but totally in love. Tim overthinks everything after proposing. Did he pick the right ring? Did he say the right words? Is he even ready to be a husband? But every time he sees you smile, it calms him down.

Keeps it practical. Tim doesn’t want a huge engagement party or a grand wedding. He’s more focused on what your future together will look like your shared goals, finances, and making sure you’re both on the same page.

Researches marriage like it’s a mission. He has books on successful relationships, listens to podcasts, and even makes a checklist for wedding planning. You find it adorable when he starts using color coded spreadsheets.

Loves when you call him your fiancé. The first time you said it, he blushed so hard he had to look away. Now he’s low-key obsessed with hearing it. “You don’t have to keep calling me that… but don’t stop either.”

Gets emotional when he thinks about the future. You once caught him staring at the engagement ring on your finger, looking teary-eyed. When you asked what was wrong, he said, “I just can’t believe you’re actually mine.” (I would’ve smacked the shit out of him for that, I don’t do romance 🙄💪)

[elvinapandra]

POV : you have been scrolling for the past hour and all you see is SMUT

Please...life is lot more than fucking🙏🏻

[ditzydoe444]

jason todd spits on your cunt when he eats you out. especially ak!jason.

MDNI 18+

ak!jason x reader

“get over here,” jason grunted as he dragged you to the edge of the bed by your ankles. you may have bitten off more than you can chew by taunting him, begging him to eat you out. “don’t back off from me now.”

jason was rough, almost mean during sex. he wasted no time drilling into you if needed, not caring about how many times you came. he would finish when he wanted, leaving your pussy swollen and filled with his cum.

this time though, he wasn’t going to fuck you. he was going to devour your fucking pussy, and you knew that when you saw the desire in his eyes, the way his gaze never left your cunt. “already so nice and wet for me hm? been thinkin’ about this for a while?”

jason leaned in, close enough where you could feel his breath on your cunt. “gonna devour this pretty little thing,” he cooed as he dragged his thumb upwards towards your clit. his arms were hooked around your inner thighs, trapping your legs apart.

without a warning, jason spat on your cunt, his saliva dribbling down. the sudden sensation made you squirm, “need to prepare my meal,” he said lowly before licking your cunt. it wasn’t long before he started devouring your cunt, he was a messy eater. his tongue going against your sensitive folds whilst occasionally sucking on your clit. jason loved being messy, he loved how your arousal would dribble down his chin, making it glisten and how wet you would be with his saliva as well.

he ate you like a full-course meal, literally. he didn’t waste a single goddamn drop, his arms gripped your thighs tightly holding them apart, not letting you budge. you didn’t miss the way he looked up at you, a sly grin forming on his face whilst his chin glistened.

you were completely done for.

[minnoue]

Cutie

Banished

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason misses his girlfriend

warnings: extremely mild angst, he’s just mopey (he’s fine)

Jason sits slumped over the kitchen island, head lying in his crossed arms. His now soggy cereal disregarded after barely a few bites.

Dick’s been rummaging through the cabinets for the better part of twenty minutes while Tim has sat atop of the nook table shoving donuts in his mouth for the better part of thirty.

Damian trudges into the room, past them and onto the nook bench, taking out a knife and beginning to whittle away at a block of wood.

He glances at Jason with a scowl. “If you’re going to be so miserable, can’t you do it in your own home?”

Jason just grunts.

He wishes. You and Bruce had conspired to trap him at the mansion for the week so he could heal from injuries sustained during the last mission without risk of him suiting up and sneaking away from you in the middle of the night.

But it’s not even the fact that he’s basically being babysat that’s got him so disgruntled. He secretly wouldn’t really mind it at all if you were here too. But you were dead set that the manor was too far out of your way for work, so you’d stayed behind. A lose-lose for Jason.

“He’s just mad his girlfriend kicked him out,” Dick teases, swiping through the fridge.

Tim snorts from the doorway, “Me too. He’s a lot more depressing on his own.”

Jason keeps his head down as he blindly reaches for the spoon in his cereal and chucks it at Tim’s head.

Tim catches it without thought, continuing, “A lot more irritable, at least. Why isn’t she here?”

“She’s gotta work,” Dick says, scanning through the pantry.

Damian peeps his head up from his project. “But Todd has a rather large supply of less than legally obtained money, does he not?”

“Yeah, but she said she wants to pay her own rent, I think,” Dicks hums, finally giving up on his quest for a snack.

Damian pauses.

“So she wants to live in a tiny apartment?” He asks, a mixture of confused and horrified.

“Watch your mouth,” Jason mumbles.

“It was a genuine question!” Damian protests, face screwed up.

Jason finally lifts his head up, turning to his little brother with a raised brows. “And I’m genuinely going to break your nose.”

It’s an empty threat, maybe. But it was enough to shut Damian up anyways. Jason turns back to his cereal and swishes the bowl around.

Dick rests his arms on the counter across from Jason and speaks lowly. “You know, it is just a few days. She’s coming back.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Jason was never one for showing his feelings—let alone talking about them.

He misses you, plain and simple. Dick could see that much clearly, though the longing looked unfamiliar on Jason.

Bruce lingers in the hallway, just past the island, listening.

He’ll admit (to himself) that he’s worried about Jason. It’s been three days and Jason has yet to show a crack in this demeanor. And while it’s not uncommon for him to stow himself away, there is something quite wrong with the way he hasn’t countered his brother’s jabs at him or teased them.

And while he could do without the blatant threats, he’s proud to hear his son defending his girlfriend, even over trivial things. It’s one of the few moments where he feels like he did right by him as a father.

And now here’s his son, caring about someone else more than he cares about himself. Someone who’s a good person, no less. It had been your idea to trick Jason into staying at the manor, you were scared that he would push his body past its limit when you couldn’t do anything to help.

Bruce knew you didn’t feel great about basically banishing him for the week but he could see that you just wanted what was best for Jason. He could see it so clearly. Maybe Bruce could never have been a perfect father, could never have given his son everything he needed despite having more money than he could ever use. Maybe he couldn’t help him, even now.

But you could.

Bruce peers around the corner, leaning up against the doorframe.

He watches Damian give up on carving at his block and start into the leg of the table.

He watches the bickering that broke out after Tim grab the last glazed donut, which was apparently the only thing Dick could possibly fathom eating.

And he watches Jason.

As Jason’s phone lights up on the counter next to him. He glances down at it with a frown before his face absolutely lights up.

He scrambles to pick the phone up and starts typing away. A quiet action that catches the attention of all of his brothers.

He types and types, waits for ten seconds for a response and types and types again—smile on his face.

The Waynes didn’t need to be the greatest detectives in the world to know who he was texting.

✨ reblog fics or face the block button ✨

[ebodebo]

—thinking about jason todd being a smug bastard... MDNI

Wayne Manor was swarmed with people. 

Once again, your parents had insisted on attending one of Bruce's charity galas, dragging you along.

You couldn't help but feel like an outsider in this world of opulence and pretense.

It was fun to dress up with thousand-dollar dresses and jewels, but, Christ, the air was thick with the scent of expensive perfumes and the sound of clinking glasses, making it stuffy even in the corner of the room where you stood.

They were nothing more than a group of pretentious assholes parading around and gloating about their wealth.

The very sight of them filled you with a profound sense of disdain for the whole event, a feeling that seemed to grow with each passing moment. 

You just thanked God Bruce always provided good booze.

"Cute dress," a deep voice sounded next to you.

You know immediately who it is.

"Was gonna wear red, but I didn't want you to get all jealous, Jason," you jest, your tone oozing with sarcasm.

"Is that right?" He smirked, handing you a glass of champagne. 

"Yeah. So I settled for blue," you shrugged, grasping the champagne.

"I think red suits you better," he hummed, sipping the alcohol. 

"I bet you do, Toddy," you chirp, eyes leering over the glass as you sip.

"You think you're so funny," he mutters, referring to the silly nickname you call him to his dismay. 

"I think I'm pretty hilarious," you smile, clearly amused with yourself.

"I can tell," he jibbed, taking another swig of the alcohol, eye peering over the rim to lock with yours.

You open your mouth to speak but are interrupted by a refined, high-pitched tone dripping with an air of superiority calling out for Jason in the dimly lit, crowded room. 

"Jay," a blonde girl quipped, making no effort to greet you, only batting her lashes at him. "I wasn't expecting you to be here."

"Well, you know..." He trails off before mustering a fake smile. "Duty calls."

She lets out a horrendous giggle that has you laughing at the sheer absurdity before her eyes lock on you.

"And...you are?" Her tone is almost revolted, adding to the tension in the air. 

Just take the high road, you think to yourself. 

"I'm a friend," you plaster a ricus smile.

She purses her lips, her eyes betraying a mix of jealousy and curiosity as they dart between you and Jason.

You'll play nice tonight, sure. 

"Don't worry. I have a date of my own," you lightly smile, internally cringing, torn between maintaining your composure and the urge to flee.

"You do?" Jason asks with utter perplexity.

No.

"Yeah," you breathe out.

His eyes squint, you gulp.

"Well...where's the lucky guy?" Blondie poses, her arms crossing over her chest, her condescension palpable in her tone. 

Your eyes quickly scan the room before you hear a familiar voice walking behind you.

"There you are!" You beam, turning around, reaching for poor Dick's wrist, and pulling him next to you. 

"Dick?" She questions, her curiosity piqued.

"Dick?" Jason questions, his tone dripping with disgust.

"Not happy to see me?" Dick teases as you casually thread your arm through his.

You don't miss the way Jason's whole body tenses. 

"How...charming," Blondie quips hesitantly before she threads her arm through Jason's.

Jason doesn't miss how your whole body tenses, issuing a smug smirk at your bewilderment. 

Oh? He wanted to play dirty.

Well, two can play that game. 

"Isn't he just a charmer?" You chirp, your tone laced with unnoticed faulty admiration. "Dick's just so sweet. He just...swept me off my feet," you say, fighting back a cringe, but the sight of Blondie's scowl and Jason's stiff posture makes it all worth it. 

Dick shifts his eyes down to yours; you give him a quick wink, and he nods lightly, pulling you closer to his side.

He would do just about anything to get under Jason's skin. 

"She flatters me," Dick beams. "She's the real charmer."

You smile brightly, your eyes moving between Blondie's perplexed eyes and Jason's narrowed ones.

"Didn't think you two talked," Jason grumbled, his tone simultaneously skeptical and sour, his eyes never leaving Dick's face. 

"Yeah, I can't believe we haven't talked sooner." You smiled, your gaze shifting from Dick's bright eyes to Jason, noticing his knuckles turning white around his champagne glass. 

Got him.

"I can't believe I let you keep her to yourself, Jason. She's a great conversationalist," Dick chimes with a slight smirk at Jason's irritation.

Oh. Dick is having way too much fun. 

"I'm aware," Jason continently says, taking a sip of his alcohol. 

"Even better baker—what is it you made me the other day?" Dick questions, turning slightly to face you. 

Your eyes widen in surprise at his improvisation skills, your brain slightly scrambling before you find the words. 

Hell, if the whole superhero thing didn't work out, he could make a killing as an actor.

"Brownies," you spout after a moment.

"You made this idiot brownies?" Jasom suspires, clearly vexed. 

"I did," you smile, inwardly enjoying his apparent displeasure. 

Jason moves to speak but is quickly interrupted by Blondie.

"I'll have to have some shortbread cookies made for you, Jason," she says, smugness oozing as she pulls him closer to her side. 

Right like he would ever eat—

"I love shortbread," Jason says with a wide grin.

"You hate shortbread. You've always hated shortbread," you sputter out without much forethought. 

"Maybe I like them now," Jason shrugs, a sly smirk growing.

Your eyes narrow slightly before they widen a little in remembrance. "Oh, Dick," you tug on his arm to catch his attention. "I almost forgot you left your jacket at my apartment the other day," you prompt.

"Why was he at your apartment?" Jason instantly says, eyes staring daggers into Dick's.

"Just hanging out," Dick answers plainly, his lips quipping only slightly.

"Well, you two sure seem...close," Bondie quips, sipping champagne. 

"Yeah," Jason mutters through gritted teeth. "They do."

As you sip, your eyes leer over Jason's face over your glass of champagne.

His jaw is slightly clenched, and his eyes are narrowed.

Jason Todd, jealous?

What a sight.

"Speaking of apartments," Blondie breaks the silence, turning her head towards Jason. "Daddy just bought me a new one in SoHo. You should stop by," she says before she follows with a wink.

"Oh?" Jason hums lowly, clearly still a little irritated.

You let out a low scoff. "SoHo's kind of a detour, no?"

"It's not too far from here," Blondie says, somewhat defensively. "Plus, I wouldn't mind a long car ride with you," she brings her manicured finger up to run seductively across the pocket of Jason's tailored suit.

You tasted a slight coppery taste, only then realizing you had bit down so hard on your cheek you had drawn blood.

"If you two wanted to head out now, we wouldn't blame you," Dick remarks.

You whip your head around to face his, mouth agape in surprise.

"Would give us a chance to leave, too," Dick finishes, sending a wink your way.

"Together?" Jason poses, tilting his head to the side. 

"Of course," Dick says cooly. 

As you look back at Jason, a tiny flicker of amusement glints in your eyes. 

You can see the gears in his brain turning.

"That's a great idea, Dick," Blondie chimes. "Let's get a head start."

You breathed a shallow breath before swallowing hard, looking Jason straight in the eye.

"Jason," you murmur, voice almost pleading.

"Yeah," he simply says, barreling his way over to you and grabbing your forearm.

"Where are you two going?" Dick asks, a shit-eating grin growing on his face.

"Move, Dick," you say with much more venom than intended.

"Move it, Grayson," Jason spits simultaneously, pushing past his brother.

His arm is tight around your forearm, guiding you out of the room. 

Dick throws his arms up in defeat. "What the hell did I do?"

"Where are they going?" Blondie asks, noticeably irked. 

Dick turns to look at her, pursing his lips slightly, and sighs. 

"Just—do you wanna dance?" He begrudgingly extends his hand.

Blondie perks up almost immediately, grasping his hand and pulling him toward the dance floor.

"She's so gonna owe me," Dick mutters, referring to you, as he is being dragged to the dance floor.

Meanwhile, Jason had led you down a hallway into a nearby broom closet and locked the door behind him. 

"You know, my parents don't think you're a good influence," you say casually as Jason's lips graze your neck. 

"Is that so?" He murmurs against your skin while your fingers thread through his slicked-back hair, holding him in place.

You toy with your bottom lip between your teeth, nodding along. 

The feeling of his hot mouth on such a sensitive area feels tantalizing. 

"They think you're a very bad boy, Jason," you tease before whining as his hand wanders to fondle your ass over your dress. 

You feel him laugh against your skin as his hand skims up your back to grasp for your zipper, pulling it down. 

"What do they think I'm gonna do?" He asks, slipping the front of your dress down as you reach for his tie, pulling him to your lips.

"Make me a bad girl," you murmur against his skin. 

His lips quip in amusement before he pulls back and quickly slips his tie off. "You already are a bad girl, Baby."

You let out a small laugh as you reach out to pull his suit jacket off, fingers fumbling with the buttons on his white collared shirt underneath, before bringing your hand to rest over your heart dramatically. "Me? No. Never!"

He lets out a low laugh that has your stomach in knots as he slips off the collared shirt. 

"Don't think I didn't notice that little game you were playing," he mutters, slipping your dress down to the pool around your ankles.

"You're a little shit starter."

"I was simply evening my odds," you simply say, stepping over your dress and using your foot to push it to the side as Jason unzips his slacks. 

You tilt your head. "She your little girlfriend or something?"

He tilts his head up, mouth opening in amusement. "Come on. You take me for a cheater?" He simply asks, slipping his slacks off. 

"I take you for a lot of things," you begin, pulling him closer by his wrist to press your lips to his. "But a cheater isn't one of them."

He tips his head in appreciation before hungrily engulfing your lips with his. 

"Don't tell me your parents think Dickie would be better for you?" He murmurs in between breaths. 

Your fingers entangled in his hair yet again, pulling him impossibly closer. "Actually, yeah," you suspire. "Or Roy."

He pulls back slightly. "Harper?" Disgust is apparent in his tone.

"Hell, he's worse than me."

You let out a breathy laugh before it contorts to a breathy moan as Jason's pointer and middle fingers skim over your clothed cunt. 

"Besides, neither of them could tame this greedy pussy," he rumbles, fingers delicately moving, pressing up against your clit. "No one could."

You let out a whimper as his fingers move his ease in and out of you, your underwear adding another layer of stimulation. 

"Well, no one....except me," he dips his head to hover over your ear, lips barely brushing the skin. "Yeah?"

You don't respond.

You were too focused on his fingers moving in you and his warm breath fanning your ear. 

"Say it, Baby," he coos as his pointer and middle fingers tweak your clit. 

"Say I'm the only one who can tame this greedy pussy."

You grip his shoulders tight, shamelessly rocking yourself against his fingers to gain more friction.

Your breathy moans shoot directly into his ear as he quickens his movements. 

"Say it," he commands, low and gravelly. "Or I won't make you come."

"Okay—shit," you stutter, trying so hard to get the words out in between pants. "You're the only—one," you begin through gritted teeth. "Who can, can—tame this," his movements pick up at your cooperation. "Greedy pussy," you whine out, grinding your body down on his fingers. 

"What a good girl you are," he praises before, to your dismay, he pulls his fingers out entirely. Your eyes widen in anger, mouth contorting to reprimand him before he moves to slip his slacks and boxers off entirely, revealing his painfully hard erection.

"I'm gonna make you come, Baby. Don't worry," he assures, voice breathy. "But you're gonna come around me."

You release a shallow breath at his words.

Sure, your orgasm had dissipated when he pulled his fingers out, but, fuck, was it back now. 

He leans his head down to press a deep kiss to your lips before his hands move to grip the back of your thighs, easing you up and pushing you against a side wall. 

Your legs instinctually wrap around his waist as his fingers slip into your panties, pulling them to the side to make room for his cock. 

His eyes flick to yours, raising slightly—you sure?

You give him a quick nod before he slips himself into your slit, which was already so slick—ready for him. 

His head goes back at the contact, gripping your hips tighter to keep you in place.

You rock your hips, muttering a curse as he moves against your aching clit. 

"Was he really your date?" Jason props unexpectantly, moving his hands down to grip your ass as he plows into you much deeper. 

"Wha—Dick?" You exasperate, unsure of why his brother was now a topic. 

"Well, yeah," he breathes. "Unless you have some—some other date I don't know about," he pants through labored breaths. 

"I—why are we talking about this when you're inside me?" Your voice is already hoarse as you scramble to grip his neck tighter.

"Fuck. I like that," he groans before returning to the topic. "Just—tell me. Please," he pleads.

"No, Jason." You're surprised you found enough breath to speak. "I don't even talk to him like that," you say honestly.

A slight grin grows on his lips at the admission as his pace quickens.

"And Blondie?" You spit out.

"Blondie?" A cheeky smirk grows on his lips at the nickname before his face turns serious. "Hardly know her."

You give him a slight nod, clearly satisfied with his answer.

He leans his head down to lay in the crook of your neck, groaning and curling into your skin as he drills into you.

"Shit," you curse, starting to feel the build-up of tension in your lower stomach.

"I know, Baby. I know," He croaks into your neck. "Me too."

It only takes him a couple more thrusts for him to groan and spew curses, and you whine and moan as you both simultaneously come. 

After you both recuperate, he eases himself out of you, hissing, as he places you down gently, even helping you slip your dress back up and zipping it up, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder blade in the process.

He slips his boxers and slacks back on as you grab his collared shirt and slip it on him, delicately clasping each button. 

You snicker when you ease the zipper to his slacks up as he groans at your touch. 

"You are a bad girl," he jests, slipping his jacket and tie back on.

You let out a breathy laugh as his hands find your waist, pulling you toward him. He presses a sweet kiss to your temple. 

"Also," he begins his voice a low murmur against your skin. "I hate shortbread."  

You smile and rise onto your tiptoes, hovering near his ear. "I know," you whisper before pulling back, your eyes locked onto his.  

"I've always known."

a/n: lmaoo poor dick

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[arkhamsbrat]

jason todd will never admit to anyone that he’s a softie. never. not to his friends, not to his family- but it’s evident when he’s around you.

he’s proud enough to not care that his family sees him lay his head in your lap, eyes fluttering shut as your fingers comb through his hair.

proud enough to not hide just how much he loves you in public, arms wrapped around you while you stare at the case of treats in front of you at the bakery.

he is one of those men who can’t keep his hands off of you. you ground him, keep him calm when everything just gets too loud.

why would he care if Cass sees him blush when you kiss his cheek before he left to hang out? or how big his pupils get when you’re in the kitchen, baking with Alfred?

he’s never going to say it out loud, but who the hell is he to deny how much he loves his partner?

[igotanidea]

Bound by business: Jason Todd x reader

Summary: Jason x information dealer reader. He only came for the info, but one thing led to another, a bit of whiskey and some teasing and - .... And she's a self made gotham.boss bitch falling for no one...

Warnings: SMUT MDNI!, dirty talk, p in v, teasing, angst

A/N : Been a while since I wrote smut and a story this long. Let me down gently. XD

***

It was dark and the rain was heavy, doing nothing to hide Jason’s irritation as he speeded on his motorcycle to the bad side of Gotham if there was any good side of Gotham in the first place.

Once having reached his destination, he took his helmet off letting rain wet his ruffled hair and started banging on the door.

His contact in the criminal world had been hard lately and he had no idea why, but the reasons behind the sudden change in the attitude were far from his interest.

HE and Y/N had a long history, went way back to the times when he was Robin and she was a good girl, both memories seeming like a fucking grotesque now.

“Y/N! Open the fuck up!”

“The hell Jason?!”

The door opened but she made no move to invite him inside despite the downpour on the outside. Instead she settled on watching him shake the water off like a dog, deriving some sadistic pleasure from the fact he could barely see with his hair stuck to his forehead and falling into his eyes.  

“The gun shipment. Tonight. I need details. Time, place, figures involved.

“Well hello to you too, Jason. I’ve been fine thanks for asking.” She scoffed and then smirked.

“I don’t have time for this shit-“

“Right, right, of course. I probably should thank you for not putting a gun to my head right away, right?”

“That is to be rectified at any moment now.” He reached towards his holster.

“Don’t be stupid, Jason. You know you only get this far with things because of me. You don’t want to lose an ally, do you?”

“You’re just an information dealer. Plenty of those in Gotham.”

“Mhm. Sure. And how many of them are as skilled as I am?”

He scoffed, pushing right past her, casually shrugging off his jacket and tossing it on the couch.

“Yeah by all means, ruin my furniture. Drink?” she asked, heading towards the cabinet

“Whiskey. Neat.”

“Wow, someone finally developed some standards. What gives?”

Jason scoffed again.

“Standards, my ass. It’s at your expense so why would I hold back?”

“I might hold you accountable to that in the future. Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

The glasses clinked and for a moment they both sipped their drinks in silence which gave Jason a second to actually look at her. She was a badass, that was what he knew. But every time he came around to her place, which was not really happening that often, she was almost innocent. Ironically. No make up, comfy clothes, just hoodie and yoga pants. He had seen women try harder to look I-woke-up-like-this.

Y/N was just being comfortable. 

“What’s with the look Jace?” she smirked from under the rim of her glass, her eyes piercing into him.

“I’m just thinking.”

“About?”

“About why you are suddenly not giving me shit.”

“It’s been a long day if you must know. Long and hard day. My shit giving attitude and my humor might be a little off. ”

“Huh!” he huffed dismissively “hard day? You want to hear about a hard day? The one involving guns and fights? And being stabbed with a knife? Twice?“

“We all have our own definition of a hard day, you fool. You deal with bullets, I deal with people.”

“So you’re basically saying that people are worse than guns? Seriously? Damn, girl you got some audacity there.” He half-laughed, taking another sip of the whiskey and swirling the beverage “so, spill. Which one of your usual charming assholes got under your skin?”

“Luckily someone I do not have any respect for.”

“You have respect for no one, sunshine. But please, do tell. Did you kick him in the groin or punched him in the face?”

“Something like that.” She smirked, clearly so full of herself.

“Please tell me you at least broke his nose.”

“I did no permanent damage, that's all I can say.”

“Meaning you did something painful, but not crippling.” He nodded. He was actually learning to use the same method. Putting a gun to people's heads and shooting them dead was not very useful while searching for info. But then again, he had Y/N for that latter purpose. “Black eye? Twisted arm?”

“I thought you came here about the gun shipment info?” she finally sat on the couch and turned to face him with a hint of tease in her eyes.

“I did. But should it stop me from having a little polite conversation with my favorite partner in crime?” Jason leaned back on the coach with a sly smile

“Mh! I call bullshit.”

“How’s your hand doing?”

The question took her by surprise. Right, the hand, of course he knew about it. She got injured during one of her quests last week and has been dealing with the consequences ever since.

“I’m handling.”

“Uh!” Jason raised his hand stopping her in the middle of the sentence “Let me translate: it hurts like hell but you won’t admit it.” Y/N would never confront her pain – neither physical nor emotional. And yes, he was doing the same but it was easier to notice it in someone else than in himself. “So, given the state of that limb you must have got to that asshole pretty hard. Good job, I’ll give you that. It’s not every day I get to hear about your violent tendencies….” He chuckled and sipped the last of his drink, putting the glass back on the table, his eyes fixed on hers with a mischief in them.

“Oh you know damn well about my violent tendencies…”

“Damn right I do. And don’t I just love every fucking one of them…” his voice dropped an octave as he leaned forward, never dropping the gaze.  “Nothing sexier than a woman who can handle herself…”

“Oh yeah?” she allowed him the sudden closeness, clearly enjoying the blooming game “never took you for a guy who loved being manhandled..”

“Oh I am not. But I’m a sucker for watching someone deserving of it experiencing that treatment.” Jason's gaze moved down her body appreciatively, lingering on the swell of her breast under the hoodie and the curve of her hips accentuated by that stupid leggings. He knew she had curves under all those clothes. “It’s a fucking turn on.” He added in a husky tone. 

“Is it now…?” she hummed moving a little closer on the couch, her own drink landing on the table as well as she placed palms on his thighs, using it to lean even more forwards, leaving less than an inch between their faces.

“Fuck yeah it is…” his breath caught in his throat a little at the unexpected but not unwelcomed touch. “Seeing you lay someone down with those gorgeous hands of yours….” He licked his lips.

“Mhm… keep talking…” Y/N switched positions, now sitting on his lap, straddling him, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck and he instinctively grabbed onto her hips.  Gods, he was a man and suddenly realized how long it’s been since he had a one night stand, too busy with work.

But this?

This was getting dangerous and deep down he knew that once started, wouldn’t end up easily.

This was not going to be just scratching an itch like it usually was. This would hurt a lot and mixing business with pleasure was never a good idea.

But he couldn’t stop, the primal part of his brain already awakened by the closeness of her body, her almost gentle caresses and the soft, sweet yet seductive tone he had never heard before but she had mastered to perfection.

“I said…” she leaned to his ear “keep talking…”

“Fucks…” he groaned staring at her with undisguised lust “the though of you getting dirty… rough….”

“Uh-huh…” she hummed and started grinding on him. Slowly, almost torturously, causing Jason to take a sharp inhale of breath, but quickly composing himself.

“You always fight like that, princess?” his hands wandered from her hips to her ass, squeezing the ample flesh, pulling her closer to the bulge in his pants.

“Only for the special ones.”

 “Special ones, huh?” he held her hips tighter guiding her movements “Like when you want to prove a point? Or-“

“Or. Definitely or.”

She threw her head back, exposing her neck, giving him not-so-subtle hints.

“Or when you want to send a message?” he willingly moved his lips down her skin, sucking on the pulse points, earning a little, delicious moan and hand tangling in his hair. “A message that you’re taken?”

“Am I taken? Can’t remember…” she pulled back, taking off her hoodie and discarding her bra.

“Fuck yeah, you’re taken.” His lips moved lower, kissing her collarbone and cleavage.

“Good to know…” she made a quick movement to pull and toss his shirt somewhere in the room intensifying her movements on his ever growing tent “I think the gun shipment changed the location…”

“You fucking tease.” Jason hissed, changing the positions so she was trapped beneath his body. “Eight inches. Semi-automatic. Brand new and ready for action.”

“Well don’t I love being at a gunpoint…” her hand found a way to his groin, starting to palm the bulge, enjoying the way she seemed to still be in control, even with him on top.

“Oh yeah? A gun to your head?” he groaned, barely controlling himself.

“Maybe not to my head…”

Y/N wriggled on the bed, rolling on her belly for a moment to reach for the condom in the nightstand and that moment was enough for Jason to get hypnotized by that bounding piece of ass.

“I really hope the biggest size will fit you—”

“Fuck, I’ll stuff you so full you won’t walk for a week.”

He pushed her legs open with his knee, doing a quick job of rolling the latex on his length, teasing her clit with a few featherlight touches, loving how she seemed to beg for more with every squirm and entered her in one deep thrust.

“Big enough for you?” he bit her earlobe licking the shell right after, his voice low.  

“I – mmm… shit…”

“Have you ever had this big?” The thrusts were long and hard and deliciously painful at first before turning into a series of perfectly aimed and ideally paced movements that made her gasp from pleasure. “Answer the question, princess.”

“I – ah! Ah, shit!” nails of the right hand dug into the mattress hard enough to make holes, the other hand reaching for the pillow, quickly pressing it between her head and the headboard to prevent the potential concussion. He was not a semi-automatic gun machine. More like a rifle, never shooting blanks. Thank fucks, she was prepared in many ways and started taking pills a few weeks prior. Not that it was her plan or anything. 

“What was that?” he rocked faster and harder, pulling all the way back only to slam right back inside. “Too much for you, slut?”

“Make me come! Make me fucking come to give me incentive to answer that stupid question!”

“Seems to me like I’m fucking your brains out. Is that right, pretty? Am I fucking you stupid?”

“Fuck!”

“Yeah… you’re so fucked, baby.” He was now hitting her cervix with such a speed and strength as if his life was depending on it. “Fucked by no. One. Else. But. The. Red. Hood.“ Each word was punctuated by a deep movement and if someone asked she would swear it was reaching her stomach. Or maybe she just ate something bad.

“It’s an – ohhh! – oh shit!” she gasped, unable to finish the sentence for a moment. “It’s an honor for you to have me like this….” There was no way she was going to let him win and really fuck her stupid.

“Oh I know… But no one else is big and strong enough for you” he circled her clit, bending head to suck her nipple, leaving a wet trail from one breast to another “now, come for me… come baby…”

She bit her lips so hard that a blood appeared on the bottom one, quickly licking it off, turning Jason wild. He was a sucker for blood. Not only the shooting kind, clearly.

“Yeah…. Yeah…oh! Oh!”

She could feel his pace faltering a little as he was so close to his own climax.

And used it against him, hitting right into the momentum, somehow managing to end up on top of him again, hands on his chest, breasts bouncing, ass slapping on his cock as she rocked up and down, still in control.

“Fuck! Y/n!”

“Yeah, yeah that’s right, moan my name as you come Jason Todd. Red Hood. Whatever. Scream my name.”

“You- where did you learn how to take cock like that—”

“You wouldn’t like the answer. Now come on!” It was immensely hard to keep herself from diving into the sea of release but she knew how to get what she wanted. Years of effing experience in this fucked up place.  

His hands were on her ass, squeezing mercilessly, almost to the point of pain as he finally reached the stars.

Only then she allowed herself to let go as well. Winning, yet again, falling on top of him like a marathon runner who scored a gold medal even if there were truly no losers in this game of love. At least not in terms of the body.

“Damn… you’re heavy…” he hissed, wrapping arms around her, trapping her on top of him, nuzzling nose into her hair. She was right with him, next to him, so warm and soft and tender, making him feel so good, so nice, so liberated.

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy my fat ass bouncing on you.”

“Too tired to even try to pretend.” He whispered, trying to kiss her softly, but much to his surprise, she rolled off him, swiftly avoiding his grip, grabbed the hoodie from the floor and stood up fixing her hair, letting it fall down her back like a h/c waterfall.

“Well this was nice.” Her tone was flat, unamused and the warmth in his chest turned into icy cold right away.

“Wait… what? But-“

“I’m gonna go piss now. Can’t risk any STIs. Those hurt like hell, not to mention it’s kind of embarrassing explaining to my Ob-gyn why I wasn’t careful again. I swear one more time and she’ll drop me as a patient.”

Was this a joke to her!?

“But-“ he stuttered looking at her with wide eyes. This was not what he expected at all and there were like a million questions in his head.  “Y/n-“

“I’ll be right back, but hey – hygiene right? You should get yourself cleaned too” she grabbed the towel from the rack and threw it on him, effectively flattening his still semi-hard cock and his appetite and energy for another round.

“But –“

“This is serious shit Jason! Gotta stay healthy if we’re to repeat it.”

She winked suggestively, rushing to the bathroom, leaving a little crack in the door, so he could faintly hear her peeing.

What was wrong with this girl!?

This must have been just some stupid nightmare, a product of his tired, messed up, beaten brain--

“So. You wanted to talk about something?” she was back about a minute later. “hey, you still didn’t clean up?”

“Are you always like this?”

“Like what?” she touched her right buttock and hissed at the contact with a scratch his hands left on the skin.

“This no-nonsense attitude!”

“What else do you want me to do?” she tilted her head, looking at him quizzically

 “Oh I don’t know!” he finally lost his patience, feeling too vulnerable and too emotional for his own liking, feeling the compelling need to cover himself. Both physically and emotionally. “Normally people like to – oh, I don’t know – talk after sex? Maybe cuddle a little? But you’re just like oh, hey, it was a nice fuck, thanks for letting me use you, dressing and washing up like a freaking germophobe!” he got tangled in his pants, hardly preventing himself from tripping which would be even more condescending.

“Jason-“

“I’m being serious here Y/N!”

‘You called me slut.” She deadpanned, raising an eyebrow.

‘I called you – ok, fine! Fine I called you slut. Is that why you’re suddenly icing me out?”

“No.”

“No!? That’s it? That’s all you got? I can’t fucking believe it!” he punched the wall leaving a little dent, but the broken pride clearly did not affect Y/N.

“Could you please calm down and stop depriving me of my deposit on this place? I’d appreciate it.”

“You’re fucking unbelievable!”

“I don’t understand why you’re being so emotional about it Jason.” It might have been a mirage but from Jason’s perspective it looked like Y/N literally rolled her eyes!

“We had sex!”

“Yes? and?” She hesitated giving him a chance to explain further but he was just standing there with eyes wide and mouth open. “Oh come on, this was just an itch, right? We’re bound by business, not pleasure. You don’t mix two explosives like us. It’s just unwise. We’re both adults, sex is not always about deeper feelings-”

She was still talking but he could hardly hear anything with the way blood was humming in his ears, successfully blocking any other bullshit coming out of her mouth (thankfully for Jason though).

Bound by business.

Mixing explosives.

Unwise.

Unwise!

Fucking unwise!?

“Jason?” she smiled softly, as if nothing happened, bending down and searching his eyes. “That gun shipment of yours? It happens in an hour at the docks and everything is orchestrated by Black Mask. I would take some backup if I were you, it might get ugly.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

Without any further words he walked outside, feeling defeated like never before and the nail to the coffin was the sound of the door being locked right after him.

He should have known better that a girl who climbed this high in the criminal underworld would be fucked up in some way.

But how can one prepare for the reality of the broken heart?

Back up his ass. He was about to turn his newly found pain into rage and kill each and every one of Sionis’ men himself.

The moon was about to turn bloody that night….

And the worst part?

She was still his information dealer. The best in Gotham, regardless of what he might have said before.

And he was still going to work with her.

Do you know that warning : don’t drink and drive or better : don’t drink and text?

Yep.

Another one should be the warning of developing feelings for your literal partner in crime. 

@lettucel0ver @oohyasumi @apple---cider---vinegar

[1raven0]

I LOVE THIS MAN 😍

nothing but the truth

[corpsedogs]

✿ just this once.

jason todd x f! reader

( ♡ he lets you experiment on his face )

You were sitting in front of your dresser, doing your usual skincare for the day. Behind you was Jason, laying down on your bed and reading something in his hands.

You glanced at him from your mirror. The blankets were pulled up on his lap as the lamp was faced towards the book in his hands to help him read clearly. His white streaks were slightly messy, as it stood up on his forehead.

Then your eyes trail on his face, the lamp softly dimmed on his face as you looked at it for a moment. Then, your eyes trail on your skincare products then an idea lit in your head.

“Jason?” you called his name, watching as he looked at your direction.

His eyes went from your book in his hand to your reflection in the mirror. He closed his book and placed a bookmark on a page. “Yeah?” he answers back.

You held your smile as you pretended to ponder a bit, you turned your seat to look at him with a small smile. “Can I do something? It’s not much.” you asked him, Jason raised his brow, curious on what you were plotting.

"Depends on what it is," Jason replied, his eyes flickering with curiosity as he looked back at you. "What did you have in mind?"

“Depends,” Jason replies, placing his book on the side of the bed, “Do I need to get up?” he asks. You only shook your head as you got up and took your skin care bottles, “No, it's alright.”

He watched as you took your skincare products as he automatically shifted on the bed to make room for you, “Alright,” he said “What are you doing?”

You hummed as you made your way to the bed, placing your skincare products on the soft mattress. “Can I put these on you?” you asked with a smile on your face.

Jason furrows his brows as he looks at the bottles then you with a funny expression, “You want to put a bunch of sticky stuff on my face?” he asked as he tilted his head to the side a bit. “You’ll look real better.” you replied, “Come on, it’ll feel real good.” you coed as you scooted closer to his side.

Jason couldn't ignore the feeling stirring in his chest as you scooted closer to him. Your smile was infectious, and it made his stern expression soften slightly. But he still wasn't completely convinced. "I don't know if I want to walk around with a bunch of stuff on my face."

You slightly frowned as leaned your chin on his shoulder, “It’s just this once. I won’t do it again.” you said, looking at him with those eyes.

Jason looked at you for a moment as he watched your pleading look, then finally he gave up and sighs. "Fine," he conceded, "Just this once. But if it makes me look like a weirdo, you're going to hear about it for days."

You beamed as you got up from his shoulder and began to sort through your products. As you splatted some liquid in your hands you looked up at him, “You won't regret this I swear.”

"I sure hope I won't," he scoffed. "Just make it quick, I don't have all day." You then beamed as you started dabbing and smearing products all over his face. Jason couldn't help but wince, the sticky, sticky texture felt foreign on his skin, and he found himself flinching every now and then.

"This is really weird," he grumbled, yet his tone was laced with a bit of amusement “How much longer do I have to put up with this?" You only hummed as you placed some more moisturizer on his face, “It takes like fifteen minutes. Just relax.”

Honestly, you were surprised that he easily said yes. He wasn’t one to judge you whenever you use some skin products. If ever, you were really happy that he said yes. “Why do you keep flinching?”

“Ever got condiment on your face?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes “You can’t possibly compare this to condiments.”

"Can't I? It feels just as weird," he retorted, he didn’t mean it though, he kind of likes this. You ignored his retort as you went over your pouch to find something. Jason peeked at whatever you were looking for, god hopes it isn’t anything ridiculous.

“And what is that?” he points as you took out a sachet. You turned to him with a small “Face mask.” you replied as you began to tear the sachet off.

Jason's eyes widened a bit as you tore the sachet open and revealed a face mask. "You're really going all in, huh?" he crossed his arms. "And what am I supposed to do with that thing on my face?"

You begun to place the mask over his face, “Nothing, you just wait till your face feels fresh.” you answered him, “besides, this is my last one so I’m gonna use it on something productive.”

Well.. Jason couldn’t argue with that logic. He slouched his shoulders as he accepted his face, staying still as you placed the mask on his face. He took the opportunity to steal a glance at you, he saw your eager and determined look and he can’t help but think its endearing.

When he was distracted, you couldn’t help but snap a photo of him. When he was distracted, you couldn’t help but snap a photo of him. His eyes suddenly darted to you for a moment, noticing the flash from your phone.

"Are you taking pictures of me now?" he frowns. You only smiled to your phone as you looked at the photo, “If I take a picture, it’ll last longer.” you said.

Jason huffs as he looks at you in disbelief, what is he going to do with you? "Show me.” he says, reaching out for your phone. You gave him a mirror instead, “No way you have that.”

Jason took the mirror and took a look. His reflection looked so.. unamused? The face mask covering his face and the expression he was wearing didn't help in making him feel any less like an idiot.

He looked up at you, raising an eyebrow.

"Do I really look like this?" he asked. “You can take it off now if you want.” you replied. As he removed the mask and threw it on the trash bin beside him, he took the mirror again and looked at himself.

You peeked on his side, looking at him “What do you think? You look nicer now right?” Jason inspected himself in the mirror, tilting his head from side to side as he observed his reflection.

"I think I actually look a bit less like a complete lunatic," he admitted. "You're right, I do look a bit nicer now.”

He couldn't deny the small pang of joy he felt from seeing you happy and content. He couldn't explain why, but.. seeing you enjoy something as mundane as applying clay textures on his face made him feel a little warmth in his chest.

It was stupid but still.

"You're really into this skincare stuff, huh?" he says, leaning on the headboard as he watches you fix yout stuff. “Not so,” you replied. “I just like it when you let me do stupid things.”

"Stupid things, huh?" he repeated, “So you think this whole skincare thing is stupid?" you shrugged, “It probably is to you.” Jason scoffed, he never thought he would be sitting around letting someone apply skincare on his face.

You chuckled at his scoff, “What I’m saying is.. you’d let me do anything to you which is nice.” you said, “You always do.”

His expression softens you. he admitted, his tone genuine. "Well, its cause I don't mind. I just don't want you to expect I'll say yes every time, alright?"

“I’ll try.” you replied.

🍓 my first fic!! please reblog and comment, it helps a lot

[ditzydoe444]

big!jason when he’s fucking you and he notices a bulge in ur tummy

can i be 🐾 anon? if that’s not taken yet

MDNI 18+

a/n: you've been added as 🐾 anon!

there was nothing more that turned jason on more than seeing the bulge in your stomach when he was balls deep in your cunt. there was just something about watching himself move and how he was just so god damn deep in your stomach.

“you see that sweetheart?” he grunted, his chest covered with sweat. “that’s how deep i’m in you, so god damn deep hm? bet im hitting all of your sweet spots.” he didn’t even need a response, the way you whined and moan was enough of an answer.

“bet you love seeing this bulge, knowing how stuffed you are.” jason loved the way your tiny cunt filled him in, how your tight walls stretched to accomodate him. he loved touching the bulge, watching it move with his thrusts, the bulge was just another representation of the size difference between you two.

jason had a habit of pushing you to your breaking point, his rough calloused hands would rub around the side of your waist, squeezing it, or he would apply pressure to the small bulge just to hear you whine. “j-jay,” you quivered from his touch as he pressed down on the bulge. jason knew what he was doing to you, god he could feel your walls connecting around him.

“love this cunt, and it loves me back,” he panted with a cocky grin on his face. jason loved how dumb you got when you fucked him, something that always boosted his masculinity. “gonna come,” you whined, in your current position you couldn’t even move. jason harsh thrusts making you bounce on the mattress whilst he fucked you dumb.

“then come sweetheart, with this dick you’re gonna be doin’ it a lot.”

[lovefromray]

Tracing Jason’s scars..(mini drabble)

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Jason’s always hated his scars , you knew as much when you started well..seeing each other? Or more so occasionally seeing a hint of Jason’s skin.. He hated each one , each mark , each line of pink or dot of raised skin. He hated it all, specifically the Y autopsy scar along his chest ; the scars from the Joker , a couple of purpley pink scars that lined his wrists , the white marks dancing along his back and biceps , the raised skin from each scar and even the bruises he’d received from fights..none of it screamed “hero” to him, it all screamed shame..the fear he wasn’t good enough for having such marks..you’d easily disagree, your fingers dancing along your “favourites” , lips plump and pressed against the ones that Jason hated the most , eyes stuck on his face as he grunts and tries his hardest not to tell you to get off .

Jason didn’t want you to get off..no no but he couldn’t accept that you’d be so sweet and so nice to kiss each one, to trace each one , to be so amazed by each one or even to ask questions ; not nosey enough to straight up ask , no no you were sensitive around wanting to know where they came from . You asked small questions like “this one..was it from-“ only to be cut off by Jason, his lips against yours , his hands pulling yours off his skin only for him to push you down and start his own worship of your body . His lips finding any scars or bruises you harboured from the harshness of life, “don’t ask” he’d whisper , hoping to distract your pretty mind from the curiosity . Sure he’d tell you eventually but now..? Now he wanted to appreciate you just as much as you did with him.

Jason’s shame hides him away especially during your intimate times , his hands coving scars or maybe he’s pushing the blanket over himself or keeping his shirt on just because he’s scared , he’d eventually warm up to your little praises or begs to see him more . Your words of reassurance and respect easing him into removing it all, to come out of hiding ..sure sometimes he’d refuse to remove the clothing, the helmet sometimes staying on just for confidence sometimes…sure you’d care a little , wanting to see your favourite man but..you’d accept it, you’d wait for him to feel comfortable enough and as soon as his confidence and comfort hit him, he’s attacking you with the sight of him ; scars and all. His eyes trained on yours as you giggle and gasp at the sight , your lips already on your favourite scars and your fingers lightly tracing the ones you knew he hated the most…

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Small Drabble cause I’ve missed writing , I hope it’s okay! I take requests too! Thank you lovelies

[averyjadedemerald]

truly love how universal it is that he's a man that stares in love

jason todd stares at people. whether it's consciously or not.

he does stares at people to intimidate them, get them to do what he wants, and reveal what they know. even when he wears the helmet, his stares are so intense that the thugs can feel it pierce through. it scares them even more to wonder how deadly his gaze must be without it.

he stares at his siblings too, to read them, to try to figure out if they are lying to him or not. dick is always uneasy under jason's scrutinising eyes and the depths of their green. jason almost always get what he wants out of a single stare with them.

yet, when it comes to you, it's often unconsciously that he stares. he often founds himself smitten by just the sight of you. the way you look at him always get him, and he cannot help but keep staring at you as the only thing ever.

you never feel uncomfortable under his gaze, though. the green of his eyes, a colour you've learnt to know, and started to fall for the second they landed on you.

you do, however, find yourself fidgeting and squirming when he consciously stares at you. as if he could read you, -he can. you could reveal your most embarrassing secrets for that stare of his. but unlike the thugs he deals with on a daily basis, his gaze his not deadly for you, but more fond. even when he is staring to catch your -whites- lies.

lying to him. as if he didn't know you. you would deny being in need of something, and he would just stare at you, the way his brow raise indicating the lack of anger, and more showing how he doesn't quite believe you. and God knows you would cave in -you always do-, not helping the small smile on your face as you dare look into his eyes, and just admit everything to him.

and oh, how he would smile at that. to know how much he is able to read your body language ? how much he is just able to get you ? he loves it. craves it even. and he loves to know you let him get you like that. that you willingly let yourself in the open for him, that you let him see you.

but more often than not, he just stares at you for the sake of it.

[aangelinakii]

SOULMATE SCARS.

— matching wounds.

summary : ever since you were young, strange bruises and scars have been emerging all along your body. surprisingly, you weren't extremely clumsy, so you had no ideas as to where they came from. sure, a couple bruises might be okay — they don't even hurt anyway — but when you wake up with autopsy scars along your chest, it's time to tell a professional. what happens when you meet someone with the same scars as you?

note : description of blood and injury so just be aware of that if rhat stuff icks you out

when blood began dripping from your arm in the middle of drinks, your night got a little darker.

even in the darkness of the poorly-lit bar, a juke box in the corner ringing an old fleetwood mac song, one of your friends could make out the slash of a great cut peeking out of your shirt on your upper arm, a long, cool dribble of blood slipping down your flesh.

"holy shit—"

despite being used to plum-coloured bruises and scars from out of nowhere, you weren't much of a bleeder — or, at least, whatever strange power from above had cursed or blessed you with this.

someone grabbed a napkin and dabbed you up, but the damage was already done; scarlet spatters stained the white short sleeve of your shirt, and it stung to peel away the fabric from the fresh wound.

normally they didn't hurt, but something about this one was different. maybe you were asleep half the time they happened, so you only got the aftermath the next morning when you undressed for the shower.

needless to say, you weren't feeling like glasses of wine and gin and tonics anymore tonight, and bid your friends farewell before slipping into the nip of the gotham night.

as you rounded the corner down your block, after one of your shorter walks home, you glanced back down at your arm, goosebumps rippling along the flesh. now when you inspected it, beneath the illumination of the streetlamp perched above you, it almost looked as though your torn, sticky flesh was welding back together, starting with the edge of it.

no longer did it sting, but it was certainly sensitive against the biting breeze, and your pace quickened.

by the time you were opening your front door, light from the corridor spilling into your flat, the wound was only half-open. but also something was different.

in your apartment, i mean, like something had shifted.

steps careful and quiet, you slot your keys between your fingers as you edged further into your flat, turning the handle to make sure no noise came when the door met its hinges once more.

the couch had definitely inched slightly to the left, and the shading atop your lamp was crooked. perhaps the couch was less easy to notice, but when you lived here every day, you'd almost bumped into it before noticing — but the lampshade was undeniable.

something groaned from the bathroom, where, when you peered towards the door, had a sliver of white light peeking through the cracks in the hinges. the sound of like when you suck air in through the gaps of your teeth came after, and you knew then and there: someone was in your home.

for safe measures, you plucked one of your kitchen knives from its block and crept toward the bathroom; now, the scuff of a boot against the tiles.

once you were outside, but with enough distance to be able to make any split-second decisions, your voice edged up your throat, a croak at first, before you could find your footing.

"whoever's in there, show yourself," you stated as firmly as you could, though the waver in your tone was apparent to any trained ear. "or— or i'll call 911."

shit, you probably should've done that first, investigated later — but you'd already spoken, and there was no reversing it.

a pained cough came from behind the door, and your mind immediately went to the worst: there was a killer behind there, purposely staying quiet so you'd open the door and they'd jump out and kill you in your own home— oh, you're opening the door anyway.

but what you found wasn't any killer of the sort; just a guy.

a shirtless guy.

tons of supplies you didn't even realise you had in your house were scattered about the tiles around him, where a pair of thick tactical pants-clad legs lay spread apart weakly. one of his arms hung limp at his side, his hand sitting palm-up upon his thigh helplessly.

but what else you noticed... moving up his toned chest, flesh littered with scars and scratches, was one long scar you recognised all too well. the mere sight of it caused the painless mark along your own torso to throb — which it had never done in the years you'd had it.

starting just below each collarbone, sloping down to his solar plexus, and straight down his stomach to his navel.

a mirror image of what lay just below your shirt now.

but you had never had an autopsy, and, by the look of it, neither had this guy; sure, shadows curved below his eyes and grime littered his cheekbones and forearms, but this man was very much alive.

glinting in the light, your eyes caught a metal needle dangling by his limp arm. you followed a red thread up, up to the bulb of his shoulder, where a half-open wound lay, somehow simultaneously oozing with red and crusting with it.

mouth running dry, you tore your stare away, dropping the knife and taking your hand to tug at your stained sleeve.

although much less bloody, the cut you'd found at the bar was the exact same.

with shivering fingers, you took a ginger step forward and encouraged yourself to look back to the black-haired man leaning against your bath.

"you... you..."

it wasn't much, but it was all you could muster.

seemingly unaware of the connection you'd just made, the man averted his eyes, looking back to his wounded flesh. "sorry, i didn't realise you'd come home – thought the place was empty," he mumbled.

that didn't matter now.

perhaps it should've, really, but not when... well, you saw it.

similarly, the keychain dropped from your grip, and you edged closer to the man, whose expression twitched in alarm.

"can i see that? your arm?"

as you lowered down to a crouch, the man's green eyes followed warily, his previously parted lips thinning, but he didn't move away.

eyes lingering on him for a few more beats, you turned your attention to the red-hot gash embedded in his flesh. "what happened?" your fingers found the eye of the needle, conscious not to touch too much of the red that plagued it.

the man watched your careful movements, as you lined up the prick with his torn skin and slowly pushed it through. he was unflinching, apparently more glad to just be able to sit back and not worry about himself for once. "bad knife. really shitty as you can see."

"yeah, i can see." mentally, you snapped at yourself, for you'd been unable to leave the bitterness from your tone, and the man's expression only looked on quizzically.

your fingers left the needle, allowing it to swing against his arm as it had done before when you found him, specking him with little lines of his own blood. in one swift action, you tugged up your sleeve, revealing your own half-open wound, the seared edges of flesh linking miraculously together.

the man's dark eyebrows knitted together and he physically drew himself back slightly. "shit, what'd you do there?"

"i didn't," you snapped back — not mad at him, per se, but more so the situation: this man was the reason for your horrific wounds, ones you never felt, but were cursed with the burden of. "you did."

a scoff came from the man's lips. "yeah, right..."

no, he was right. he didn't need to say anything; you were crazy.

"have you ever... i don't know, woken up with a bruise you don't know how it got there?" you pushed, eager to plead your case.

he made an attempt to shrug, but winced and ceased the movement. "doesn't everybody?"

so he was one of those difficult ones.

he comes into your apartment bleeding everywhere, and has the audacity to have an attitude. he wasn't even welcome.

"my point is," you huffed, "yours are the same as mine."

you extended a finger at his chest. "this. i have this.

it was now that he finally looked convinced. well, not entirely, but that look of judgement softened into something more commonly identified as confusion.

you tugged at the hem of your shirt, and rose the fabric slightly to show where the end of your autopsy-type scar ended — just above your navel.

when he looked at you now, it was like trying to figure out if you were dead or alive. or maybe if he were dead or alive.

"what, so..." he began after a few silent beats. "so we're connected, or something? you get my scars, i get yours?"

that's certainly what it seemed, but you shrugged anyway; there was no way to know for sure.

lips pressing together, you leaned forward to resume sewing up his wound, unable to fathom the way your own scar seemed to stitch itself up, too — no thread, no needle.

what a strange way to end your night...

[allllium]

⋮ Jason Todd ⋮

{ Oneshots }

↳ Destructive ⋮ [Vampire Jason is too stubborn for his own good]

↳ Back in Time ⋮ [You meet Jason for the first time after his death]

↳ Just an Accident ⋮ [Jason's reaction to an accidental injury]

↳ Miss you ⋮ [Jason meets you again]

↳ Sleepover ⋮ [You and Jason have a sleepover]

↳ Break In ⋮ [Things go wrong while he's on patrol]

↳ Princess Treatment ⋮ [Jason has a habit of giving gifts]

↳ Come Back to me ⋮ [You open the door to your dead best friend]

↳ Uno Reverse ⋮ [Redhood breaks into your apartment, in return you scare the shit out of him]

{ Drabbles }

↳ Personal Pillow ⋮ [Jason rips his only pillow, somehow he's okay with it]

↳ Comfort ⋮ [You play with Jason's Hair]

↳ Love Language

↳ One Plate

↳ Touch Starved

{ Series }

- Master Plan - [You help Jason get everyone off his back]

↳ Part One

[gilverrwrites]

🍷+ 🍌 for dick and jason please? 🥹

Jason under the cut.

Dick

🍷 tipsy sex headcanon

The more drunk Dick gets, the more of an exhibitionist he becomes. He's not exactly shy when he's sober, but there's a line and he knows where it is. When he's tipsy, however, the line becomes a little harder to care about. He'd never subject unconsenting others to seeing something they don't want to see, but they’ll get an eyeful of everything else. His hands are all over your body, snaking under your clothes to cop a feel at your naked skin, his lips traipsing over any inch of your body that you've left uncovered, trying to evoke sweet little noises out of you, anything to remind your unwitting audience who you came here with tonight, and who you’ll be going home with.

🍌 sex toy headcanon

Dick loves the thrill of a risky situation. Especially a dirty one. Doesn't matter to him if he's giving or receiving, when you present him with a tiny silver vibrator and its matching controller, he's just happy to be involved, as is evident by the quirk of his brow and the curve of his lip.

He's ruthless with the remote, if you're heedless enough to give it to him. He’ll put you through the ringer, slow building the tempo to get you right on the edge before ripping it away, amping up the vibrations at the worst possible times, all the while watching you with those smouldering blue eyes and that butter wouldn't melt smile. Bastard.

Jason

🍷 tipsy sex headcanon

[Repeat] Jay is already the sloppy sort when it comes to sex, especially where his mouth is involved, but if he’s been drinking, he only gets messier. After a few drinks he’s determined to leave his mark on you, sucking wet, slippery love bites into your skin anywhere he can get his lips around. He’s rougher too, using all his weight to hold you down and keep you from squirming, laughing when you try to push back against him before kissing you into submission. Consensually obvi.

🍌 sex toy headcanon

He's never actually been all too curious about sex toys, at least not enough to look into them himself. But when you suggest it, or better yet, he finds the stash of gadgets you have in your bedroom, he's more than happy to explore something new with you.

He doesn't like bondage, preferring to restrain you with his own weight, and abhorrently hating to be tied up himself.

He likes the sensation toys, oils that makes him tingle, as well as feathers and impact toys.

But his preference is for anything that vibrates. Be they in or on, you or him or both, nothing makes his toes curl like a vibrator being dragged along just the right spot. Nothing except maybe when you're being extra soft and slow with him.

[requests for smut emoji prompts are closed]

[strangepoppy]

Oh man, Dick's part is absolutely hilarioys 😆

hey so for the batboys, what kind of romantic accidents do you think happen to them? Like imagine Nightwing falling on top of s/o and you think it’s gonna be romantic but s/o just kneed him in the dick by accident and s/o banged their head on the floor?

Dick:

Ow. Ouch. Mother of all owies and her children. He’s in so much pain. A groan slips past his lips as he collapses all the while clutching where it hurts the most. To much of his shame as a vigilante and dog owner, he didn’t notice Haley’s toy lying there on the floor. And you happened to be standing right in front of him. It would’ve been more romantic had his lips landed on yours, maybe even going as far as starting a make-out session. Not getting mini-him kneed out of the reflex of your head slamming into wood. 

“Ow… Oh my god, Dick are you okay-?”

Glad to hear his misery relieves your pain from the snort you let out. Most definitely at him in fetal position, recovering from the unwarranted attack. He really does love you. Call him a sap all you want; he wouldn’t trade you for anything else in the world, all his desires and everything he dreams you take the shape of and embody. And he knows you feel the same way. Or so he hopes. Right now is the moment of truth. Whether you’ll spare him the embarrassment and comfort him like all other good significant others. He means, it is technically your fault so-

“Do, ahem, do you want ice? For you know… down there?”

Oh for crying out loud.  

“No.” He throws a feeble glare at you over his shoulder.You do realize he can see your shoulders shaking, right? Few minutes later and a nice back-patting session (much to his relief and humiliation), he’s sulking. Hardcore sulking. Leading to the repeat of what happened prior to the incident, this time with roles reserved where you’re following him around like a lost duckling and him continually walking away with his arms crossed. 

Jason:

Strings of curses leave his mouth, pain throbbing from his nose. That had to be one of the hardest headbutt he ever experienced. He was trying to prevent you from banging your head onto the corner of the table after he saw you trip. But as he pulled you toward him, his foot got stuck in the bottom ledge of the sofa that he failed to remember was right behind him.  Bet on your breath mingling with his, face too close for comfort. In all the wrong ways. 

Seems like you’re faring better than him, slowly sitting up on top of him and rubbing your head. 

“Oof, you alright Jaybi- Oh my god you’re bleeding!”

He pulls the hand that he was using to rub his nose away to check. Huh, he really is. He lets out a grunt which you mistake as him hurting when it’s from losing your warmth abruptly when you slide off him. He wanted you to stay, not leave. He can never get tired of your presence, always wanting to bask in it 24/7. Hence the scowl behind his hand when he fails miserably to grab and stop you before getting up to start the process in stopping the bleed. 

Soon you come back with tissues, ice, and wet towels. Stuffing tissues into the hand that’s cradling his nose, you hold the ice to the back of his neck with one hand while the other is wiping the rest of the blood off. 

You don’t notice the devious gleam in his eyes, too busy inspecting if he’s injured anywhere else . Good. With a satisfied smirk plasters his face, you yelp from surprise as he pulls up and plops you down back on his lap. Yep, he already feels much better. 

Tim: 

He can hear his heart beating in his ears, the other four of his senses going into overdrive. You’re so close, a sheet of paper’s width away from him. Should he do it? Maybe he should do it. Lean a little bit closer and he would have his lips on yours anyways, so why not? 

“Ow!”

“Who the- What? Ti-, no, Re-, no, Babe?”

He stumbles back and wheezes. He probably deserved getting punched in the guts. He saw you on your phone and a second away from bumping into one of Penguin’s men. So he panicked, okay? Grabbing and caging you in a random alley, against the brick wall before the worst case scenario happens. He doesn’t blame you, having everything occurred in the spur of the moment. And How would you know it was him anyways? 

Or that’s what he tells himself to feel better anyways. He used to tease you were made of stone whenever you jabbed him or did something silly. Now He’s starting to believe it’s true because man, despite you always being sweet and tender to him (to which he’ll always crave and cherish), you pack a mean punch. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know it was you and I thought I was getting kidnapped-“

“It-it’s fine.” Another wheeze. “I should’ve told you it was me.” 

Your eyes say otherwise when you somehow manage to lift his shirt showing Purple and blue blooming on his side. An argument ensues with him listing reasons why he didn’t need to get checked by Alfred as he didn’t need his “siblings” getting their hands on more black mail. Until you pull him towards you. Needless to say, he walks out of the alley with you hand-in-hand, heading towards a nearby urgent care. 

Duke:

The two of you are sitting by the hospital’s entrance. Your eyes are puffy with his belongings in your lab. He’s simply holding on his crutches. All he wanted was to experience his heroic moment of saving his loved one. And today, the opportunity came after school. Served on a silver platter and everything. You had slipped on the last few steps of the stairs and he, like usual, was waiting for you at his usual spot that’s next to them. He, thankfully, was able to catch you. Just. Not in his arms. 

“Duke!?” 

“I’m okay…”

“Like hell, you are!”

You were inconsolable during the ride and after he got admitted to the ER. He kept telling you it was fine, that it was on him had he not second-guessed at the very last second on what posture he was supposed to take on. But no matter what he said, you were dead silent, not making eye contact with him. It only got worse when the doctor told him he not only fractured his ribs, he sprained his ankle. His heart broke when he saw your hands pressed onto your face. All he wanted was to make himself appear dependable, someone you can always count on. 

“What?”

Oh shit. He didn’t mean to say that out loud. Slowly you got up from your chair. He braced himself for what was to come. When Bruce entered the room, he didn't know, other than seeing man nodding on the side to everything you said. Fast forward back to now, where he continues to fidget next to you.

“Don’t you dare do anything stupid for the next month, cause I’ll be checking in on you everyday.”

“Everyday?”

Dammit Bruce, he should've been benched for two months! Then he could’ve had two months of getting to hang out with you! 

Damian:

“Stop hitting me!”

“You stop hitting me!”

It’s been five minutes into the game of Hide-and-Seek Bat family version and somehow he’s stuck in a cabinet under the tea display case with you. It’s only because he loves you that stopped him from kicking you out (he ignores how it was you who found this place first). But now, he’s having second thoughts. The space can barely hold a single person and yet here two of you are, cramped and squished in the most uncomfortable positions. Forget about blushing or self awareness, it’s sweltering hot and difficult to breathe! You both tried everything, rearranging yourselves in every way and the only position that was deemed better than the rest is where your backs are against each other, arms wrapped around the thighs and feet propped up against the wooden walls. 

“Stop squirming or you’re going to get us caught!”

“Not everyone is as flexible as you!”

Quickly he jabs you, signalling another person entering the dining room. Though he found it odd. Just how poorly did everyone hide to get caught this easily? A minute passes. Two minutes. The person doesn’t leave and now he’s starting to get nervous. Out of nowhere, he realizes how pressed closed he is to you. Your body heat seeping into his and his into you. He has no plans to ever reveal to you how you are the only person who can ever make him feel at peace nor how he enjoys the colors you bring to his life. With these thoughts plaguing him, he succumbs and slowly lets his arm reach behind him so he could grab your hand.

“All right you love birds, that’s enough!”

You both tumble out and see the shit-eating grins everyone has on their face. Embarrassment and dread settles in. Those jerks knew and had planned to out him this whole time!