#red hood x vigilante!reader

[indulgentdaydream]

Hello!

Can you do Jason todd x reader where he's crushing on the newest vigilante in Gotham?

Thank you

New in Town

Jason Todd x Reader || Fluff || Word Count: 1,185

Warnings: profanity (swearing), death mention, violence, low-key stalking but not really??

Wrote half of the fic. Was nearly finished. It didn’t save. 😩 the ONE time i decide to write outside of the notes app

I love the idea of Jason crushing on someone like a teenage boy because he never actually GOT that chance as a teenager so he never learned how to cope with those kind of feelings, so I sprinkled that in here.

I feel like this is poorly written forgive me 🙏

He hadn’t heard of you until six months ago. He hadn’t cared then, either. You kept to the other side of the city, you didn’t pose a threat, and he was already preoccupied with his own things to deal with. You weren’t that important to him.

Jason was walking across rooftops. Two weeks, roughly, since he had caught wind of the new name, aligned with the rest of the bats.

It was a night where the rain had let up for once. It wasn’t perfect, though. Never was. The clouds still too thick to see the bright moon and stars.

He was looking for an address, one that seemingly didn’t exist. He landed on another rooftop of a short apartment building. Jason could hear the sounds of two people fighting down in the alley below him.

He walked to the edge, looked down, and there you were. Dressed up in your vigilante gear, fighting some thug.

He crouched, watching. This was much more entertaining then his fake address.

The thug was much bigger than you, but you handled yourself well. The thug lurched forward. You planted a hard, flat, kick to his stomach. He stumbled back. You got in a good punch, a right hook. The thug went with it. He bashed his back off the corner of a dumpster before crumbling to the ground.

Jason nodded once in approval. You didn’t play.

You both saw it at the same time. The clouds parted for a moment behind Jason, the light of the moon shining down over Gotham for just a moment.

The shadow of the top of the apartment split the alleyway below in half, with Jason’s crouched form’s shadow landing right in front of the thug.

He stood up and stepped back from the edge just as you started to look up. He was out of sight before you could see him. At most, you saw the glint of his helmet, but nothing else.

He walked away. He didn’t want to deal with this.

Three weeks later, Jason’s standing on a catwalk in one of Gotham’s many abandoned warehouses. He’s high enough up, hidden within a shadow, that they couldn’t see him even if they had the brains to check up instead of around.

He’s holding his AR-15, pointed down below at the drug dealers he’s been following all week. His aim is steady, mind going over the motions of the possibilities.

“Psst.”

Jason whipped his head up. He aimed the rifle in front of him. There, on the other catwalk, ten feet away from him, was you.

You were leaning on the railing, smiling. Jason didn’t like how his first thought was the realization that this was the closest he had ever been to you.

“Want some help?” You whispered loudly, your smile pulling into a grin.

He looked back down, fixing his aim, “No.”

You leaned further over the railing, exposing nearly half your body to the drug dealers below if they so happened to look up. You whispered your name. Your vigilante name, that is. He didn’t respond.

“Rude,” he heard you mutter. You stayed silent for just a moment as he watched the dealers walk around their table, complaining about their business not showing up. The business that Jason had left dead in an alleyway an hour ago.

Silent treatment wasn’t going to work. You spoke up again, “Why didn’t you say hello? When you saw me in the alley?”

“Maybe I didn’t want to.” Except he had wanted to, just not like that. And not like this.

It was your turn to stay silent. Jason looked up without moving. With his helmet, you couldn’t tell if he was, or was watching the men below.

Standing up straight again, your head was turned away a little, obviously listening to somebody babble away in your ear.

He looked back down before you turned your head back, “Welp, should’ve accepted my offer. I gotta go.”

“Buh-bye,” Jason said dryly before you were walking off down the catwalk.

What can he say? He was intrigued after that. He’d watch you fight from hidden corners, never daring to step out. He waited for the right opportunity to talk to you again. He… did it for too long. A couple months too long.

It wasn’t stalking. That’s what he told himself. He hadn’t pushed to discover your identity, hadn’t learned your exact schedule. He just… kept looking for a chance to talk.

Jason hated it. Hated that he couldn’t come up with a way to approach you. Hated how he got tongue tied thinking about it. How his palms got damp. What could he say?

He ran into Dick one night. They sat on the edge of a building and talked. Which turned to bickering for a while, before it came into a “Who had the worst Bruce experience” argument.

He shut up the second you landed on the roof behind them, “I could hear you two from an entire street over.”

Dick clapped his hands together, a smile breaking out at the sight of you. Jason turned to watch. He walked over, happily calling your name. He got to you, pointing at Jason as he slipped an arm around your shoulders, “Tell this guy he’s wrong.”

You frowned, “I don’t even know this guy.”

Jason remembered he had taken off his helmet, left in only his domino mask. You couldn’t see the rest of his clothes from the fact he’s sitting facing away from you.

Speak! Dammit! He chided himself. He picked up his helmet from his side, bringing it around to show you. He watched your eyes widen in recognition.

“Ooooh,” you immediately nodded, “Yeah. You’re wrong.”

Jason found his words with an amused smirk, “You don’t even know what for.”

You shrug and Dick laughs, “That’s the spirit!”

Jason turned back around. He pretended like he was watching the city line, but he was really listening to yours and Dick’s conversation. He kept trying to look for ways in, ways to talk to you.

Now! Nope, Dick said something unrelated, too quickly. Now your conversation went in that direction. Here! Too late. He hesitated.

He stopped listening, pursing his lips in annoyance at his own stupid, boyish inability to talk to the attractive new vigilante.

“Oh… he said he didn’t want to talk to me. Probably annoyed by my presence.”

He tuned back in.

“How rude.”

“That’s what I said!”

Jason looked back over his shoulder. The two of you were standing there, arms crossed, looking at him.

“What?”

Dick seemed to remember something, “Have you two even been formally introduced?”

You grumbled something along the lines of, “Tried that.”

Jason shrugged, “I’ve seen them around,” he met your eyes, “You fight good.”

What kind of fucking compliment is that?

“So do you,” you smiled.

Jason’s eyebrows furrowed a little in confusion. You could see the movement through the domino mask, “You’ve never seen me fight.”

You grinned, pointing at him, “That’s what you think.”

Jason smirked a little. Oh, he liked you, alright.

[bluetooththereptile]

When office is better than home

Being the best lawyer Gotham can offer is a ludicrous job, the city of the dead is rife with crime and nearly every person in the legal system is corrupt, and if you want to make some money you just need to tweak some strings, but thankfully you don't need to feed on those venues, you have something even better, you're Bruce Wayne's personal lawyer.

Bruce is the best boss, he always make sure everyone at the office is taken care off, paid leave whenever you have a reasonable explanation, food coming from the best restraunts in Gotham, best payments and so on, getting there is a massive feat, but when you do everything is easy, well, until it backfires.

"Is everything alright at home Y/N?" Bruce asked you as you absent-mindedly fidgeted with your files, he had assured you he didn't want to scold you for you current failure at one of his cases about a certain oil company, he was just worried for your wellbeing, shit , he must have noticed the scars and bruises on your body! You knew you had to apply makeup before coming in but your lazy bum told you it'd be fine, ugh!

Reader is a vigilante in Gotham that batman doesn't know the identity of, and the same vigilante works for him as well without them both knowing, now things has gotten tangled up.

Don't worry, Bruce's understanding, and Batman is already accepting of you to an extent.

"You're injured" came Batman's deep rumbling voice behind you "Had a small scuffle with bane, that is all" you replied, your voice warped by your mask "Let me see" "Pardon?!" "You can not go with your shoulder aching like this, the injury seems extensive, let me see" shit.

[librababe99]

Vigilante's Lullaby |Part One|

cw: Red Hood, Gender Neutral Reader, Angst, Mentions of violence, blood, injury, medical procedure, hurt no comfort, dark romance, hurt no comfort word count: 1.9K summary: In the shadows of Gotham’s underworld, you run a clinic that caters to those no one else dares to help. One night, Red Hood stumbles in, bloodied and defiant, refusing assistance despite his wounds. As you force him to stay, a strange, electrifying tension fills the air.

A/N: Hello! Just finished up the final edits to the first part of this new series. For the sake of dramatics I really liked the idea of leaving Jason's identity anonymous and sticking with his alias. Also as of now I'm wanting this to be a four part series but of course that can change! If you'd like to be tagged in the next part just let know <3 As always comments and feedback are greatly appreciated - Libra * .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

(DC Masterlist) (Marvel Masterlist)

(Synopsis) (Part Two)

The clinic was a small, dimly lit space tucked away in the decaying heart of Gotham’s underbelly. The walls were cracked and worn, the faded paint peeling in corners no one bothered to care about anymore. Shadows lingered in every corner, as thick as the stench of sweat and antiseptic that clung to the air. It was late—well past the time most sane people would be out in Gotham. But sanity was a luxury in a city like this, and you’d long since learned to live without it.

You leaned over the trembling form of a thug, stitching up the gash in his side with quick, practiced movements. He wasn’t important—just some small-time crook who got into a fight he couldn’t win. It wasn’t your job to ask questions. You weren’t paid for that. People came to you because you never asked why, and you never judged. Criminal, vigilante, or something in between, it didn’t matter. In Gotham, everyone bled the same.

The thug winced, muttering a half-hearted complaint, and you hushed him quietly, focusing on the task at hand. It was routine—just another night in a city that never slept, where violence was a constant companion.

Then the door slammed open, hard enough to rattle the rusting hinges.

You looked up, instincts on edge, fingers stilling mid-stitch. A figure loomed in the doorway, casting a long shadow across the floor. The helmet gave him away immediately—Red Hood. His presence dominated the room, his chest heaving, blood dripping onto the worn floorboards.

"Out," his voice growled, distorted through the modulator in his helmet. It wasn’t directed at you.

The thug on the table scrambled up, clutching his side. He didn’t wait for a second warning. As soon as Red Hood stepped into the room, the thug fled into the night, disappearing into Gotham’s shadows.

The vigilante staggered forward, his movements heavy, labored. Blood soaked through his jacket, staining the dark fabric and leaving a trail of crimson in his wake. His breathing was harsh, his body barely holding itself together, but when you moved toward him, his gloved hand shot up.

“I don’t need your help,” he growled, even though his knees almost buckled from the effort of staying upright.

You stopped short, eyeing him carefully. His wounds were bad. Too bad. He wouldn’t last long in this state, not even in Gotham. But you’d seen his type before. The kind who thought they could muscle through the pain, through death itself, out of sheer willpower. Maybe he had cheated death once, but not tonight. Not like this.

“You’ll die if I don’t patch you up,” you said, voice calm but firm. You weren’t afraid of him. That was important. Red Hood’s entire persona thrived on fear. “Sit down. Now.”

His helmet turned slightly, as if sizing you up. There was tension in the way he held himself, every muscle coiled tight, ready for violence even though his body was betraying him. His fingers twitched like they were ready to reach for his gun. But you stood your ground.

“I’m not going to ask twice,” you added, eyes narrowing. “You won’t make it out of this room if you don’t let me help.”

For a long, painful moment, he didn’t move. The silence stretched, thick with tension. Then, with a sharp intake of breath, he let his hand drop to his side. A begrudging acceptance. He stepped forward and sank into the chair, the weight of his injuries catching up to him.

You didn’t hesitate. Moving quickly, you grabbed your supplies and knelt beside him, carefully peeling back his jacket to expose the wound. The gash across his side was deep, and there were other cuts and bruises littering his body, evidence of a fight he barely survived.

As you worked, the room fell into a tense quiet, broken only by the sound of his labored breathing. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the mix of blood and sweat clinging to his skin. Your fingers brushed against his flesh, the contact sending an unexpected jolt through you. The air between you seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment, thick with something unspoken.

He watched you from behind the mask, his eyes hidden but his presence palpable. You didn’t flinch, didn’t show any reaction to the violence he wore so plainly on his skin. You’d seen worse, and you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of thinking he unsettled you. Still, there was something in the way he sat so still now, the way his body surrendered to your touch, that made the space between you feel... electric.

“You don’t ask questions,” Red Hood said after a while, his voice low, almost conversational now. There was a hint of something behind his words, like he was testing you. “Everyone else does.”

“I’m not everyone else,” you replied simply, not looking up from his wounds as you stitched them closed with quick precision.

He made a noise, somewhere between a grunt and a laugh, though there was no humor in it. “No. I guess you’re not.”

Your hands lingered for a moment longer than necessary as you finished up, the tips of your fingers brushing against the edge of his skin. His body tensed slightly, and you could feel the air shift between you. There was a moment—brief, almost imperceptible—where Red Hood’s guard dropped. His gaze softened behind the mask, as if for just a second, he was letting you see past the armor. Past the walls he had built so high.

But then, just as quickly, it was gone.

Red Hood stood abruptly, wincing as he moved, pulling his jacket back into place. He didn’t say thank you—he wasn’t the type. He didn’t have to. The way his eyes lingered on you, just for a heartbeat longer than they should have, told you everything.

“Don’t expect me to come back,” he muttered as he made his way to the door.

You didn’t respond. You didn’t have to.

He disappeared into the night, and you stood in the quiet aftermath, staring at the blood he left behind on the floor. Something about that encounter stuck with you. It was more than just another wounded vigilante passing through your clinic. It felt like the start of something darker. Something deeper.

A week passed, and you tried not to think about him.

But Gotham had a way of bringing people back into your life whether you wanted them or not. The nights were long, the clinic busy as always, but a part of you found yourself glancing at the door more than you cared to admit. You told yourself it was just a matter of curiosity—nothing more.

Until he returned.

This time, Red Hood didn’t burst in with the same dramatic entrance. He slipped through the door quietly, his presence immediately recognizable despite the effort he seemed to make to go unnoticed. He was wounded again, though not as badly as before. His jacket was torn, blood staining his side, but his steps were more measured, less desperate.

You raised an eyebrow as he stepped into the light, crossing your arms over your chest. “I thought you weren’t coming back.”

His lips twisted into something like a smirk, though there was no humor behind it. “Didn’t have a choice.”

Without waiting for your response, he sat down in the chair again, wincing as he moved. You took a deep breath, grabbing your supplies once more. This time, there was less urgency, but the tension between you had only grown in his absence. As you worked, the silence stretched again, but it wasn’t the same. The weight of unspoken words hung in the air.

“You live like this every night?” you asked after a while, breaking the quiet. “Bleeding all over the city?”

He chuckled, though it was dark and hollow. “It’s Gotham. Bleeding’s part of the job description.”

You glanced up at him, instinctively drawn to where his eyes should be beneath the mask, though you still couldn’t see them. The white lenses covering his eyes remained in place, a barrier between the two of you, preventing you from truly seeing the man beneath. But you could feel his gaze on you, sharp and unwavering, as if he were studying you just as closely.

There was always something about that mask—how it made him unreadable, cold, distant. Yet, in moments like this, when the tension in the room grew thick, you could feel the weight of emotions hidden behind it. The silence stretched on for a beat too long, the sound of your steady breathing filling the space as you tried to ignore the electric pull between you.

“And what job is that, exactly?” you asked, your tone carefully measured. You couldn’t let your curiosity get the better of you, but the question slipped out before you could stop it.

He hesitated for a brief moment, his head tilting slightly as if considering his answer, though the visor obscured any hint of where his gaze fell. "Righting wrongs. Settling scores," he finally said, his voice low and cold. "Call it whatever you want."

The cold finality in his voice sent a shiver down your spine. He wasn’t just talking about Gotham’s criminals. No, there was something more personal in his words. He was talking about himself—his own demons, his own darkness.You didn’t push further. It wasn’t your place, and you knew better than to pry into the shadows he carried. But it didn’t stop you from feeling the weight of it, the sheer force of the rage and pain he carried with him.

“I’ve seen plenty of people come through here with wounds like yours,” you said softly, focusing back on the gash you were stitching up, your hands steady despite the tension in the air. “They usually don’t last long. This city eats people alive.”

His head tilted slightly, and though you couldn’t see his eyes, you felt the intensity of his attention shift back to you. For a moment, the air felt heavier, thicker. His voice, when he finally spoke again, was low, rough. “I’m not most people.”

You couldn’t help the small, bitter smile that tugged at your lips. “No. I guess you’re not.”

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it felt charged, like standing on the edge of something dangerous. There was always something about him that made you feel that way, as though you were staring into an abyss and contemplating whether to jump. Maybe you were a danger to each other, a collision waiting to happen.

When you finished patching him up, your fingers lingered, the soft brush of your skin against his as you pulled the gauze into place. This time, he didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. Instead, he remained still, the air between you crackling with something unspoken.You glanced up at him again, meeting the featureless gaze of his mask, your breath catching in your throat. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you could feel them on you, feel the tension simmering beneath the surface.

Something was happening between you two—something inevitable, dangerous, and completely out of your control.

Without a word, he stood, pulling his jacket back over his bandaged torso. The movement was sudden, almost abrupt, as if he needed to break the moment before it went any further. He didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t offer any words of gratitude or reassurance.

But you knew he’d be back.

Even as he left, the heavy door of your clinic closing behind him, the presence of him lingered in the room—dark, dangerous, and unmistakably powerful. The pull between you both was undeniable, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever was happening between you was far from over.

And it was only a matter of time before that tension snapped.

[thirstydemisexual]

Blood Path || Jason Todd x Vampire!reader

MASTERLIST

Jason finally gets to have an education after his legally dead status gets revoked. Something in his life is finally going how he wants it. He even meets a girl in his course that seems to make everyone of his problems fade away. But she deserves better, better than a broken person like him. A monster. She could never think the same of herself right? Right?

....

You are finally free from the man that turned into your monster, you are free, but alone... apart from that incredible hunger that keeps you constant company. Satiating it by taking out human traffickers and rapists seems like a good solution right? After all, who is going to miss them?

warnings: 18+ content, p3do and r4pe mention(slight, just in the discussion of killing child rapists), blood, gore, dead dove do not eat, abuse, a lot of trauma discussions, sex, alcohol

PROLOGUE: here

Part I: coming soon

...

divider by: @sister-lucifer

TAG LIST: @deimks, @amber-content , @deans-spinster-witch , @that-one-goblin , @snowy-violet , @thenightwingnerd , @zffhahaa, @v1naco, @fictionalwhor3, @heyitsaloy, @vinxernica

comment to be added to the tag list

[slut4thebroken]

Ruin

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jason Todd x reader

Summary | Jason punishes you after you disobey him.

Warnings | Smut, 18+, sexual content, knifeplay, blood, cutting, brief use of guns, bondage, ruined orgasms, overstimulation, denial, pain play, sex toys, dacryphilia, hard to soft dom Jay, established relationship.

Words | 3.3 k

Notes | For reader’s suit, imagine Black Windows’s but it’s not one whole piece, it’s a top and a bottom but still in the same style. (And yes… part of this was based on a video😭)

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

“You disobeyed a direct order!” He seethed, slamming the front door shut. You huffed and turned around to face him with your arms crossed. 

“Well, your order was shit.” You shrugged, making his jaw clench as he exhaled through his nose. 

“If you can’t do what you’re told then you can’t work with me.” 

“You mean work for you.” You narrowed your eyes at him and he scoffed. “Why can’t you just admit that you were wrong for once and I made the right call.” Your voice started to raise again. 

“You could have died! And all because, what? Your pride?” He asked in disbelief. 

“But I didn’t!”

“Because I had to fucking save your ass!” 

You and Jason have always been too similar. A lot of the same things set you off, you’re both too cocky, care too much about your pride and ego. And you can bet that if one starts screaming, the other will too. Your anger fuels his, just like his fuels yours. 

“I’m not one of your little underlings that has to follow your every command, Jason. And if that’s what you think, you need to get your head out of your ass.” Your voice was lower now, but still full of malice. 

“You know what, princess?” He started stalking toward you but you held your ground. “I think you’ve forgotten your place. And I’m going to remind you.”

“Oh fuck off, Todd.” You watched the muscles in his jaw tense. You never call him by his last name unless he’s really pissing you off. Before you could even blink, his hand was in your hair, pulling your head back and moving you closer to him. His breath fanned your lips but you made sure to keep the scowl on your face. 

“Fuck you.” You hissed, debating if you should spit in his face or not. Instead, you grabbed a knife from your pants and held it up to his neck. He gave you an unimpressed look and then his gun was under your chin. So you used your second hand to do the same with your own gun. His grip tightened on your hair and you both just stared at each other, having a silent battle for dominance. Despite the fact that you’re both bluffing, you pressed the knife harder against his skin, watching a small bead of blood fall to his collarbone. 

“Everything you do right now I’m going to do ten times worse to you in a few minutes.” He warned, not even flinching at the blade piercing his skin. You stared at him with narrowed eyes, but you could feel your confidence and dominance start to break— the submissive part of you forcing its way up through the cracks. You clenched your jaw and hardened your gaze, willing it to go back down. But Jason already knew. You could tell by the way his lips were slowly curling up into a smirk. 

“Put the knife away, baby.” You ignored the butterflies from the pet name and glared at him. 

“Keep patronizing me and I’ll cut out your vocal cords.” You spat. 

“I’m sure you will, princess.” He smirked and you fucking knew he said it with that tone specifically because of what you just said. You breathed heavily as you seethed, his low laughter only fueling your anger. With a growl, you shoved his chest— you weren’t strong enough to actually move him, but he humored you by moving with the force, letting go of your hair. 

“Keep taunting me, princess and I’ll shoot you.” You pointed the gun at him, clenching your jaw. 

“Oh yeah?” He smirked, clearly entertained by your outburst. He was on you in a second, pushing the gun to the side and forcing the knife out of your hand, making you whimper when he bent your wrist the wrong way. Once he disarmed you, he placed a hand on your neck and quickly pushed you back until you hit the wall with a grunt. 

“You need to learn your fucking place.” He growled, squeezing your neck. 

“You’re supposed to teach me?” You scoffed, adding gasoline to the fire. Instead of reacting with anger like you thought he would, his eyes darkened and he smirked.  

“That’s right, baby. Now get your ass on the bed.” He took a step away from you and pointed his gun at your face. When you didn’t move, he cocked it, making you roll your eyes but start walking. You sat on the bed, looking up at him with a smirk. 

“Take away that gun and what are you? Just a little boy desperate for control.” The second you said it, you knew you fucked up. 

Bad. 

He glared at you for a moment and you held your breath as you waited, then he just chuckled darkly and set the gun on the nightstand. While he was there, he grabbed the handcuffs and vibrator you always keep in the drawer. You put up a fight as he handcuffed you but he overpowered you easily. To immobilize your legs, he just sat on your thighs. 

He dragged the zipper of your suit down at a tortuously slow pace. Once it was unzipped, he pulled a knife from his pants and cut your bra straight down the middle. You shouted a protest, which was ignored as he pushed the fabric to the side, exposing your breasts. 

“So soft.” He muttered absentmindedly as he trailed the tip of the knife over your chest. “So delicate…” He trailed it up to your neck then pressed down in the same place you had cut him. “So fragile.” You hissed when the blade broke the skin but showed no other reaction. 

He removed the knife and leaned down, licking a stripe up your neck, over the cut. You let out a low moan and subconsciously lifted your hands to place in his hair. The chain rattling on the headboard made him pull back with a small smirk. 

He put the tip of the knife back on your neck to continue, going up your jaw, then down your cheek before landing on your bottom lip. Your breath hitched as the skin split under the blade and once he was satisfied with the amount of blood, he removed it and leaned back down to kiss you. 

You moaned into the kiss and he groaned in response, licking his tongue into your mouth, focusing on your lip before sliding inside to meet your own. The kiss was hot and messy and almost aggressive but so entirely Jason. 

He pulled away, but immediately moved to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses and dark bruises. He gave one last kiss on the cut on your neck, then sat up again. If all he was planning on doing to punish you was cut you occasionally and kiss you… well that wasn’t much of a punishment at all to be honest. You tried not to smirk at the thought. 

“You’re awfully quiet tonight.” You hinted at the question you wanted to ask instead. 

“Baby, why would I talk dirty to you when I know how much you love it?” He grinned, making you frown. Instead of pouting you tried a different tactic. 

“Sounds like an excuse to be lazy. Is that also why you got the vibrator out?” You smirked, glancing at the toy on the bed. “Careful, Jay. You’re awfully close to becoming a pillow princess.”  

“Keep talking. You’re only making it worse for yourself and more fun for me.” He said smugly. 

“What’s a pillow princess gonna do?” You scoffed, still smirking. You were always terrible at knowing when to keep your mouth shut. He stared at you for a moment, then laughed quietly at your disobedience and moved between your legs. He pulled on the waistband of your pants and underwear, forcing them down your legs until they were at your ankles, where he had to quickly rip your boots off to fully remove them. Then he was back to sitting over your thighs. 

He didn’t even say anything as he picked up the vibrator, immediately turning it on and pressing it against your clit. You let out a choked moan from the sudden stimulation and he started slowly moving it in small circles, still maintaining firm pressure. You squeezed your eyes shut with a long vulgar moan and heard him chuckle quietly. 

“Fuck— Jason.” You said through a breath, feeling yourself already close to the edge. It’s rare that you ever need to use the vibrator so whenever you do, it’s always really intense. You expected him to pull away, to make a remark about how you don’t have permission to come, but he didn’t say or do anything. Not being able to hold it any longer, you fell over the edge, then all stimulation was gone. You let out a choked sob and opened your eyes to look at him. 

“Jason,” You whimpered, giving him the pout that always makes him cave. By now, your ruined orgasm was done and your chest heaved as you watched him. 

“I’m sorry, did you still want this?” He condescended, glancing at the toy then back to you. 

“Fuck you.” You growled, now angry from the lack of pleasurable release. He clicked his tongue and turned it back on, pressing it firmly against your now sensitive clit. You cried out, trying to squirm away from him, but not being able to because of him sitting on your legs. 

“S-stop, Jay— stop,” You whimpered, barely able to handle the overstimulation. He just let out a dark chuckle, making you look at him with watery eyes. 

“No, baby. We’re gonna do this over and over again and I’m only gonna stop once it dies.” He smirked. You let out a strangled whimper and yanked your hands forward, the metal chain rattling loudly on the headboard. 

“Please, I- I’m sorry,” He shushed you and you let your words die off into incoherent babbling. 

“You did this to yourself. You’re a big girl, you can handle the consequences of your own actions.” He condescended. You shook your head and squeezed your eyes shut. 

“Can’t…” Despite your words, you could already feel your second orgasm barreling toward you. After only another moment, the coil in your stomach snapped and you let out a loud moan that turned into a sob when he once again removed the vibrator. 

“Please! Please, I'm sorry!” You cried, the tears in your eyes threatening to fall. “Please, Jay, I won’t do it again. I promise— please,” He brought his hand down hard on your sensitive clit with a loud smack, forcing a broken moan from you.  

“No amount of begging is gonna get you out of this, princess.” 

“Jason,” You whimpered. Your watery puppy dog eyes had no effect on him though. He placed the vibrator back on your clit, making you cry out and yank on the handcuffs again. “Fuck! Jay— Jay, please.” You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut and feeling hot tears start to roll down your temples. 

“God you look so fucking hot like this. Let me see those pretty fuck me eyes.” Your eyes fluttered open and you stared up at him through wet lashes, bottom lip trembling. “Jesus fucking christ.” He groaned, gaze rapidly moving over your face and the rest of your body. 

“Aren’t you a fuckin sight, huh? Tits out, arms tied to the bed, tears running down that pretty face, and look at how red your little pussy is, baby.” He lifted the vibrator and you let out a heavy breath of relief as your chest heaved. The second you looked down like he said, the toy was back on your clit. Your crying intensified and you continued trying to squirm away from the stimulation. 

“Jay— fuck… Please, Jay.. hurts so bad.” You whimpered, pulling out all the stops to get his mercy. “Please, baby, I’m sorry— I won’t do it again, I promise. I’ll listen to you.” 

“I know you will. But I also know it’s going to take more than just this to make your words actually truthful. Right now you’re just saying what I want to hear to get me to stop.” 

“No! No, I- I'm not lying, Jay.” 

“I don’t believe you.” He shrugged, making you let out a sob and pull on the restraints again, your legs trying to kick him off of you. “Throwing a tantrum now?” He asked with raised brows. 

“Fuck— Jay, please. I’m sorry.” You whimpered. 

“Shh, baby. You don’t want the gag, do you?” You whined at the threat, bottom lip trembling, and shook your head. “That’s what I thought. So why don’t you shut the fuck up and take your punishment, like a good little girl?” Your third orgasm hit you suddenly, but as soon as your back arched and your eyes squeezed shut, he removed the vibrator, making you release an anguished cry. 

He kept that up for what felt like hours. After the fifth orgasm you could barely talk, but after the seventh, you lost count of how many ones he ruined. When the vibrator finally died, you were both relieved and disappointed. 

“Ready for my cock?” He asked, making your breath hitch. You nodded, not even attempting to speak, and watched him walk over to the closet where most of the sex toys are stored. When he came back with a fleshlight, you whined with a pout. “Relax, I’m still gonna fuck you, princess.” You were too fucked out to try and figure out what that meant. He lined up the end with your hole, making you tense up. 

“What are you doing?” Your words slurred together, heavy with exhaustion. 

“Shh. Just trust me, baby.” He cooed and you couldn’t help but obey, your body relaxing into the bed. You whined when he pushed the toy in, feeling far too sensitive, but also relieved that you were finally full. When he settled between your legs and took out his cock, it finally clicked. 

“Jay,” You whined, watching as he stroked himself slowly. “You said you were gonna fuck me.” 

“I am.” He lined the tip of his cock up with the entrance of the fake pussy and all of your protests died on your tongue when he sunk in, brows scrunched together and mouth open in a silent moan. The toy shifted inside of you, but it wasn’t enough to give you any genuine relief. You let out a strangled sob and pulled on the handcuffs— much softer than before though because of how raw your wrists had gotten. 

“You’re okay.” He cooed, making you shake your head as you cried. “Shh, princess. You can take it, can’t you? For me?” You whined, feeling conflicted. 

“Please… ‘m sorry.” You whimpered. 

“I know, baby. You’ll be okay.” He slowly dragged his cock out, then pushed back in. A strangled sob escaped your lips and he leaned down, muffling your sounds with a kiss. Once you started whining and whimpering instead of crying out and sobbing, he pulled back. 

“You’re such a good girl.” He whispered, bringing a hand up to wipe the tears from your face. His hips moved slowly, barely jostling the toy inside you. The only plus to this situation was that you weren’t empty anymore. “Took your punishment so well, baby.” 

“Jay,” Your bottom lip wobbled and he gave you a soft smile as he cupped your cheek. When you let out a choked sob, he shushed you softly. “Wanna touch you..” You whimpered, feeling more tears fall when you unsuccessfully tried to bring your hands forward again. 

“Yeah?” You nodded, biting your trembling lip. “Okay, sweetheart. Since you’re doing such a good job, you can touch me.” The second your arms were free, you wrapped them around his body, pulling him down into a hug as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. When you placed a soft kiss there, he let out a shaky breath. 

“Fuck— I’m not gonna last much longer.” He grumbled, breathing heavily against your shoulder as his hips sped up. “This is a punishment for me too, baby. It’s nowhere near as good as the real thing.” You wanted to beg him to take this out and use the real thing instead, but you could barely get any words out when he sped up even more. Your walls fluttered around the toy and you got even needier just by listening to his desperate grunts and moans as he rutted into you, chasing his orgasm. “But don’t worry, I’m still gonna give you my come.” He whispered, planting a wet kiss on the side of your neck. You moved a hand to his hair and tugged on the strands lightly as your back arched up into him. 

When he suddenly pulled up, out of your arms, you whined, but it cut off once you saw that he was pulling the toy out of you and off of his cock. He stroked himself quickly, his breathing coming in short pants until he let out a low groan, covering your sore, abused pussy in his release. He rode out his orgasm, then his hand slowed to a stop as he caught his breath. 

“C’mere, princess.” He said softly, laying down next to you and pulling you into his arms. “Can you tell me how you’re feeling?” He placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head and you snuggled into him more. 

“Needy..” You mumbled. When he laughed quietly, the corners of your lips turned up into a small smile. 

“That’s the only bad thing you’re feeling?” He asked again, and you realized now what he meant. 

“Mhm. Still just a little fuzzy.” 

“Good.” He kissed the top of your head again, then started running his fingers through your hair, making your eyes flutter closed as you let out a pleased sigh. The longer you laid here, not distracted by anything, the more your thoughts continued to race. You already felt bad for what you did, but the drop of endorphins, as well as the fact that you just finished a somewhat intense scene, only exacerbated the feeling. 

“Jay, I- I’m sorry.” You started, then cleared your sore throat and spoke a little louder. “I thought I was doing the right thing but I shouldn’t have deviated from the plan and I won’t do it again. I’m sorry for scaring you too.” If the roles were reversed and Jason didn’t follow the plan, then almost died— again— you wouldn’t let him out of your sight for weeks, maybe even months. 

“I’m sorry for yelling.” He said quietly, his own way of accepting your apology. 

“I deserved it.” You smiled. Your heart fluttered when you heard the deep rumble in his chest as he laughed quietly.  

“But hey I mean… if you ever want to go against the plan— in a way that doesn’t almost maim or kill you— I’m not saying it would lead to some pretty hot sex, but…” You giggled into his chest at his words. 

“There’s no fucking way I’m doing that shit again. The ruined orgasms and overstimulation? That was just downright cruel, Jay.” You tried to suppress your laughter and sound stern, but as soon as you heard his chuckle, your serious exterior broke. “And how on earth did you come up with the fleshlight thing?” That part, even though it was torture for you, was almost impressive honestly. 

“I don’t know… I wanted to fuck you, but I didn’t want to fuck you… if that makes any sense.” He said sheepishly. 

“Close enough.” You laughed quietly. “I’ll keep that in mind for the next time you deviate from the plan.” You said with a smirk. Riding a dildo right next to his cock would probably drive him mad and you were already creating a plan in your head for everything else you could do to him— for all of the ways you could torture him. 

Taglist (join here)

@pedrisgatorade @lunyyx @faebirdie @idkdudsworld @nashja @rentaldarling @whydoyoucare866 @zurakoisanhornysimp @brooklynscherry-z @wartofart @deimks @n1ghtw1ngslvr @harleycao @baebeepeach @jayroytodd @zurakoisanhornysimp

[m3vl0vesu]

𝔸 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕗𝕝𝕒𝕞𝕖 𝕡𝕥𝟚

Tw: Violence, suggestions of abuse, suggestions of bullying

A/N: I finally made a part two you guys!!! It was short and simple, the real stuff comes later :)

Part one>>

Your thoughts

The anxiety bubbled in your throat-or maybe that was bile- as the stench of cigars hit your nose. You followed the light smoke into the kitchen, your father seated at the table. His eyes scanned over you, narrowing as he did a double take. “You're late.” His voice was rough and hoarse, maybe he didn’t notice.

You hated that that was a good thing. “The bus was late…” Your voice was barely a whisper, you were mumbling again. “Speak up.”

“The bus was late.” The stench of cigars was stronger as you saw a cloud of smoke surround your dad, it was a sight you’ve seen for as long as you can remember. “There's a door right there, can’t you do that outside?” Nothing in your tone indicated sass, it was a genuine question. You waved your hands, even if you were used to the smell you still didn’t like it. “You can deal with it.” “And you can deal with smoking outside.”

Rude. Just rude, he stunk up the kitchen and he didn’t even bother to use an ashtray. Just a mess for me to clean up. Why even bother? Shit. “Fix your tone.” “Right, s-sorry…sorry”

He turned around, giving you permission to leave the room. It was always a surprise to see him home, and if you were being honest? You wish he never came back.

Only thing you could see were the stairs, after every step they creaked. With your head down you made it to your bedroom, the familiar site making your shoulders feel heavier. You tried your best to close your door without a slam, and it was hard. Your fists needed to hit something, someone. And you hated it, but violence is just how your family does it. Violence

.

. Monday 4:59 Jason Todd (Third person)

.

Violent. Unstable.

Bruce's words echoed in his mind, sure the old man was probably just  trying to get him back ‘home’ ,but to Jason? It just seemed like another way to cage him. Jason was an adult now, he learnt how to do adult things. And he did that alone. He could take care of himself, sure he forgets to clean his wounds sometimes…and he might be getting evicted-but still!

With a grunt, he fell onto the worn-out couch he owned. The familiarity of it made the tenseness in his shoulders decrease a little. It was a bad day. One thing on his mind was that kid, why were they all busted up? A small chuckle left his lips when he remembered what they said ‘You’re not a wall??’ they sounded…funny.

Plus it was pretty dangerous for a kid to just be out and about in Gotham streets. The kid would be fine right? 

They didn’t seem weak but…but…

But why do I care?

With a sigh he fell asleep. If he can’t do it at night, he might as well sleep the day away.

.

.Tuesday 1:30 (Second Person)

.

It felt like the walls were closing in on you, the rush of people getting to class. You hated it, the overlapping sounds of their footsteps and their mindless chatter. You could feel their sides as they passed by you, a few hands here and there, your head still hurt. 

Two more hours of this bullshit. This wasn’t going to work, you needed to skip. But you couldn’t afford another detention, literally. 

They threatened to expel you, your wrist still hurts from that night.

Your nerves were on fire, nothing could calm you down. Definitely not whatever useless subject you had next. Science was it? It was time to use the sick or injured card. 

You had enough bruises and it worked last time, but that meant entering the classroom, raising your hand, people having their eyes on you as you asked to go to the nurse.

Ah

They implied that new rule, the one where your parents would have to pick you up. Of-fucking-course! 

Your life was as shitty as ever, and that damned limp had barely gotten better. At least the swelling on your ankle stopped. It had been like that for a week, it was probably a good idea to go to the nurse for that but why bother, then she’d tell your parents. And no-one needs that. 

Even though something at the back of your mind desperately wanted them to notice. While deep in though someone bumped into y-

“Ah. Sorry about that.” The words held no real apology but at least he had the decency to apologise. “No it’s alrigh-” holy f-it was the Wayne kid. “...t. I-It’s fine”

You didn’t really know why but he always creeped you out, it was odd. I mean it was always odd seeing a proper Gotham elite not have some vendetta against you but that wasn’t it. He had a particular distance from everyone, and his guard was always up. All he did was sit and watch, he read people well. Just like you did…maybe that was it. The thought of someone knowing how you felt irked you, it just wasn’t what you're used to. He looked down at the floor, maybe your ankle, and walked off. Leaving you with a small chill down your spine. Guess you had to get to Science, he was in your class anyway. Couldn't risk it, he might be a snitch. He did look like one.

.

.3:19

.

School was closed early after a villain was spotted nearby, which was odd they never really came this close to the school during the day. If there was a villain spotted nearby that meant-

ShitThe buses weren’t coming. Even if you tried calling your Dad he would say he’s at ‘work’ or ‘too busy’ and Mom was too ill to drive, that asshole probably took the car as well.

Guess that meant walking, you dreaded any time you had to walk. It was usually long and unbearable, going from the relatively clean streets to the graffiti-filled alleyways near where you lived. 

The penthouses would turn into small apartment buildings, just further proof just how big the gap was from the privileged to the others.

When you had to walk you usually kept some sort of weapon on you. Everyone did. Didn’t mean it wasn’t going to suck.

.

The dozens of kids slowly turned into three or five going the same way you were. Some behind and some in front, your old headphones blasting whatever emotional music you were listening to. When you turned the corner you saw him, them. 

Instinctively your hands balled up into fists, they were laughing. A laugh that bounced around in your mind, you pray that they don’t fucking notice you-

…

Well never mind then.

“Look who we have here…” The boy had a mop of brown curly hair and a freckled face, he was a few inches shorter than you. It always made you chuckle, but today you just walked away, that's when you felt the collar of your shirt being pulled from behind. Do these dipshits get off on your torture or something? “Hey-” Your reflexes were fast, too fast. Your elbow hit his jaw, fuck you hit him too hard. When you turned around, almost falling he almost pounced on you. Almost. He was grabbed by his collar, like a small kitten would be grabbed by their mother. You stepped back, looking up at the mans face…he seemed familiar.

.

.

.

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size? I saw a squirrel nearby, maybe that would do.”

[ravenna-reid]

Pretty Pretty Eyes

JASONTODD x FEM!VIGILANTE!READER

Summary - Jason had seen you around for months now but never managed to get to talk to you for more than a few seconds. Telling himself he had to investigate what the hell you were doing for Gotham's safety (yep, ok Jason) he makes a plan to stop you from disappearing one night. (Part of the scene inspired by the image in the middle) Enjoy!!

Warnings - Swearing and some violence, maybe like one suggestive line

Jason didn’t know why he felt this way, but he was intrigued by your reactions to everything. Or more accurately, your lack of. He was used to others narrowing their eyes at him, cussing him out, or even trying to throw a punch whenever he said something out of line. But that never happened with you. He was lucky to even get a puzzled frown and “Mm” from you. Then after that, you would disappear before he could even ask you any questions. 

Slick as a whistle and as silent as a ghost. You seemed to always be where trouble followed, and when Jason got to the scene, you weren’t exactly helping the bad guys, but you weren’t exactly stopping them either. Were you a villain? A threat? Were you an ally? He didn’t know, because no matter how hard Jason tried, he could never find a trace on you either. And he’d be damned if he asked Bruce or Dick for help. It ate away at him if he was being honest. 

However, tonight would be the night Jason would finally get his answers. Because he’d found you where he’d least expected to find you. On the top floor of a large building that displayed and sold art. What were you doing? He had no idea. All he knew was that he had to get you this time. 

Once you’d heard his “subtle” footsteps and caught the gleam of his helmet from the corner of the room, you were on the move. Your speciality was slipping away unnoticed, and it worked every time. But Jason came prepared. Gun already raised, he shot something he’d spent weeks making in the Batcave, much to Bruce’s curiosity. A small, vibrant thing shot across the room like lightning and hit you right in the back. You stumbled, then quickly stopped to look behind you. You didn’t feel the agonising pain that came from a bullet wound. And when you looked down, you just couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Bright, neon yellow dust all over the back of your shirt. Now you had no chance of disappearing into the shadows. This man was actually ridiculous. But it was all he had since he’d run out of trackers. Much to your dismay, all you could do was shake your head at the situation and sprint. 

As you threw the door closest to you open, you ran across the roof of the tall building. The cool breeze whipped against your skin. It ran through your hair as you leapt over ladders maintenance men had left behind and roof turbines. Jason followed close behind. And as he grew closer, he grabbed small metal gadgets with his gloved hand from his belt and threw them. Small explosions went off as they hit the ground, releasing thick smoke in front of you. You went to run to the side until you realised you were at the edge. Fuck.

Jason’s arm grabbed at your waist as he tried to pull you back, but you smacked him with your elbow. Using the momentum and grabbing hold of one of his arms, you then swung around behind him and swiftly uncurled the rope that was attached to your belt. Wrapping it around his legs caught Jason off guard given how quickly you moved, and soon Jason dropped down on one knee. You moved the rope up from his leg to around his neck and pulled back. But he managed to escape, grabbing the rope from your grip and tossing it off the building. Once Jason turned to you he paused, breath heavy, and waited for you to give up. Waited for you to realise he just wanted to talk. But you weren’t one to pause during a fight. “Now listen.” He said, hands raised. 

Using a manoeuvre you learnt in Krav Maga many moons ago, you swiftly got the Red Hood on his back, and he had hit the ground like a tonne of bricks. Whilst he was down, you slipped one of your favourite daggers into the palm of your hand and closed the space between you two. Pinning one of his freakishly large arms down with your knee, you now had the dagger at his throat. Jason instantly came to a halt as the cool blade sat comfortably on his skin. A single jarring movement would draw blood, and all he could do was look up at you through his helmet. Both of your chests rose and fell with heavy breaths. The black mask he always saw you in covered your nose down to your chin, but Jason could see that focused glint pass through your eyes.

First the rope, now a blade at his throat?

“You have a thing for necks, huh?” He joked.

You ignored what he’d said. Like always. 

Really, you were just trying to ignore the soft, musky scent that made its way to your nose…

The night went on around you as you tightened your hold on Jason. Being pinned to the ground so easily made him feel overwhelmingly agitated. Pissed off.

Impressed?

Leaning over him - both of your masked faces so close - you were about to say something (scold the living shit out of him) until you heard a click. 

Your head instinctively looked down. Given you had one of his arms pinned, you didn’t think of the other one, hoping the knife to the throat and him being beneath you would be enough to restrain the Red Hood. But now as you looked down to where the sound came from, you saw one of Jason’s loaded glocks, the cool steel gently pressed against the skin on your waist. Your body stilled as a simmering anger washed over you. What a compromising position. 

“And you were so close to getting away, weren’t you?” Jason murmured, a hidden smirk plastered across his face.

You dragged your eyes back to him, and although your mask was covering half of your face he could still see the  foul expression you were giving him. Hell, it was as though he could feel it.

“Why won’t you just give up?” You asked, voice muffled.

Jason was stunned. It was the first time he’d heard your voice. It was warm. Smooth. So…

What the hell was he thinking?

“It’s my job to make sure this city is safe, Princess. Gotta keep track of those that are running around in masks –”

“What? You think I’m some bastard who’s conspiring with drug lords or something?” You asked cooly. 

“If you’re not guilty, why do you keep running away?”

“Why do you care?” 

Jason could feel your muscles tensen. The dagger that still sat at his throat shifted closer. He quickly reminded you of the gun that was still pointed to your waist. 

“Easy now.” The words fell from his lips as though they were a lull. 

Silence settled over you both as you stared at each other. A faint beating thrummed in your heart. Jason’s blood was rushing. You leant down even closer, and Jason swore he could feel your breath on his skin.

“You ruined my shirt.” 

He smiled.

“Well, I guess I’m going to have to make it up to you, aren’t I? Once you tell me who you are.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Mm.”

Then, as you moved your arm back so that your elbow could knock the black cylinder from your opened pouch, the canister dropped to the floor and rolled over beside Jason’s head before exploding. Quickly dragging your body off of him, you slipped your dagger back in its place and leapt down onto a balcony beside the building you were on. As you fled the scene, your head reeled from the events of the night. 

So much for a ruthless vigilante you thought to yourself, a warm smile forcing its way onto your face.

Getting to his feet and wiping the soot like substance from his helmet, he searched for you across the rooftop. But he knew better. You were nowhere to be found. A defeated sigh left Jason as his shoulders dropped, but even with his loss, all Jason could think about were your eyes. Those pretty pretty eyes.

“Until next time.” 

[rogueshadow1124]

REMEMBER ME

[Jason Todd x reader]

Summary: on one if his nightly patrols he comes to sit on a rooftop where he flicks through memories of himself and Y/N, his love who was gone. Or was she?

Word count: 2830

Warnings: swearing.

Gotham was a dangerous city. Everybody knew that. It was dull, rundown, and full of rambunctious bandits, rogues, lowlifes—criminals. The worst of the worst lived in Gotham, and not a night went by where there would be peace. Arkham Asylum was where most criminals were sent—the really bad ones, the ones whose evil ran so deep that they put others in danger for their own twisted fun and games.

Above the city, on the ledge of a towering building, sat a broad-built figure, cloaked in the dim glow of Gotham’s failing streetlights. His head hung low, shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world pressed down on them. In his hands, he held a red metallic faceplate, the familiar mask that had become his symbol. Candy apple-colored eyes, once sharp and intense, now appeared sore and rimmed with a ring of red that circled his waterline. A single tear slipped free, landing on the metal mask with a soft, muted thud. He swiped at it absently, his gloved hand dragging beneath his nose as a quiet sniffle broke the silence.

This was Red Hood—the infamous antihero who once ruled Crime Alley and had now begun to roam the streets of Gotham. His armor, designed to withstand the worst Gotham could throw at him, could not protect him from the storm that raged inside. Beneath the mask, the armor, the hardened persona, was Jason Todd—just a young man, broken, in pain, and utterly lost without the comfort he once had.

A comfort that had been torn away from him.

In the stillness, fragments of the past flooded his mind, scenes that he replayed more often than he'd ever admit. The memories came swiftly, cutting through the cold Gotham night like a knife.

“Jason?!” Her voice echoed through his mind first. Soft but clear, like a bell in the fog. He could still picture her walking through the small apartment, her hair tumbling over her shoulders, the way her eyes—those brilliant Y/E/C eyes—would light up whenever she saw him. The creak of the door, the soft thud of her footsteps on the floor, and then her calling out again, more playful this time. “Baby?”

He could see it so vividly—the way he had turned toward her, his lips quirking up into that half-smile she loved. “Y/N/N,” he had replied, his voice warm despite the exhaustion that clung to him.

The duffel bag she carried slipped from her shoulder, landing on the floor with an audible thud, but her attention was entirely on him. He remembered her gaze as it swept over him, lingering on his slouched posture, one arm draped lazily along the back of the couch while the other rested on his thigh, just above his knee. He’d been trying to look casual, like he hadn’t been missing her all day, but she could always see through him.

Without a word, her legs had carried her over to him. She stopped right in front of him, her bright eyes soft with affection. Jason had reached out, patting his thigh in invitation, and she had smiled, the kind of smile that made everything else fade away.

“Oh, Jaybird…” she had whispered as she climbed into his lap, her body draping across him almost horizontally. His arms had wrapped around her immediately, pulling her in as if he could keep her safe just by holding her close. He had kissed her forehead, once, twice, and then again, a smirk dancing on his lips. “I missed you.”

Her laughter had filled the room, light and melodic. “I think I missed you more, babygirl,” he had murmured, his voice low and full of that teasing affection she loved. His hand had cradled the back of her head, pressing her against his chest, and she had giggled, the sound vibrating against him. Times like that were the best, the moments when they didn’t have to hold their guard up, when they didn’t have to be vigilantes or fighters or survivors. They could just be Jason and Y/N.

He could still feel the warmth of her body against his, the way she fit so perfectly in his arms, as if the universe had designed them that way. She had been his solace, his peace in a world that was anything but.

But nothing in Gotham lasted forever, and happiness was the most fleeting thing of all.

Jason’s mind drifted back to the night they met. Y/N had been a rogue back then, laying low, doing her own thing. He’d caught wind of her while on patrol in his Red Hood gear. A newcomer stirring things up, not quite a villain but not exactly a hero either. She had intrigued him, the way she moved through Gotham’s underworld with purpose and precision. He hadn’t expected her to fight back when he finally confronted her.

But she had.

That punch had shattered more than just his mask—it had shattered his assumptions about her. One solid hit had cracked a piece of his faceplate, revealing one of his eyes beneath. For a split second, their gazes had locked—his sharp jade eyes meeting hers. The moment had stunned them both. He had felt it then, that electric pull, the raw attraction that surged through him like nothing he had ever experienced. And from that moment on, she had been in his head, under his skin.

And now, she was gone.

His chest tightened as the weight of reality settled back in. Y/N was gone. He had lost her in the cruelest way imaginable, ripped away before he had a chance to say goodbye, before he could protect her one last time.

The memories, once so vibrant, began to blur, and he was left with only the dull ache that accompanied her absence.

A faint sound behind him stirred him from his thoughts—quick, sharp footsteps slicing through the quiet. Instinctively, Jason tensed, his body reacting before his mind fully caught up. Someone was there.

Jason’s senses flared the moment the figure lunged at him, a blur of black against the dark skyline. Their impact hit like a freight train, the force of it driving the air from his lungs as they tumbled across the rooftop. His back slammed against the gritty surface, pain rippling through his ribs, but his instincts kicked in before his mind had time to process the shock. He raised his arms just in time to block a swift elbow aimed at his jaw.

The figure’s movements were sharp, surgical—no wasted motion, every strike aimed to disable or incapacitate. Jason’s muscles strained as he parried a rapid series of blows, his forearms absorbing the brunt of punches that felt like they were thrown by someone who knew his every move. He countered with a knee strike, but they twisted out of the way, fluid and fast, turning his own momentum against him. His balance faltered for a split second, enough time for his attacker to hook a leg around his and sweep him to the ground again.

“Damn it!” he growled, rolling with the fall, instinctively flipping back to his feet. His breath came in shallow bursts, his heart hammering in his chest. This wasn’t just some thug. This person—whoever they were—was fighting with the same ruthlessness, the same precision he used. Every move they made felt familiar, as if he was battling his own reflection.

Jason charged, closing the distance between them with a flurry of punches and a swift roundhouse kick, but the figure met him blow for blow, deflecting each strike with an eerie familiarity. A vicious jab to his ribs sent pain shooting through his side, but he didn’t slow down. He couldn't afford to.

They clashed again, their movements a deadly dance of speed and skill. The rooftop echoed with the sharp crack of fists and the scrape of boots against concrete. Jason grabbed his attacker's wrist, yanking them off balance, but the figure twisted with practiced ease, using his grip to pull him into a brutal headbutt. Stars exploded in his vision, and he stumbled back, shaking his head to clear the haze.

This was wrong. All of it was wrong. How could they fight like this? Like him?

He circled warily, his breath ragged, eyes scanning for any opening. The figure mirrored his movements, calm, calculated, as if anticipating his next move. And that’s when he saw it—a glint of something small and metallic, just beneath the collar of their shirt, briefly visible as they adjusted their stance.

A heart-shaped necklace, swaying slightly as they moved.

Jason’s focus sharpened, his eyes narrowing on the piece of jewelry. His next strike was deliberate, forcing the figure back just enough for him to see the necklace more clearly—a silver heart with an engraving, the letter J catching the dim light. His breath hitched, the world slowing around him as the truth slammed into him with a force more powerful than any punch.

His heart stopped.

No. It couldn’t be. But that necklace—he knew that necklace.

Time seemed to freeze as the figure stepped back, tilting their head ever so slightly, as if sensing his hesitation. Jason’s fists trembled, uncertainty flooding his veins. His mind raced back to years ago, back to a girl who wore that very necklace—a girl he thought he’d never see again.

“Y/N?” he whispered, the name escaping his lips before he could stop it.

The figure paused, their body still as stone. For a brief second, the chaos of the fight ebbed, and Jason saw it. In the way they held themselves, the way they moved—it wasn’t just the fighting style that was familiar. It was her.

“Y/N!” he called out, louder now, his voice cracking with equal parts disbelief and hope.

The figure straightened, and with a slow, deliberate motion, reached up to the edge of their mask. Jason’s breath caught in his throat as gloved fingers peeled away the black mask, revealing a face he thought had been lost to time.

Her eyes met his, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Her expression was cold, hardened by the years, but the necklace, swinging gently against her chest, told the story neither of them needed to say.

It was her. Y/N.

Jason’s world tilted on its axis, the rooftop suddenly feeling too small, the night too quiet. The woman he once knew—the woman he once loved—was standing in front of him, and now, she was a weapon pointed right at him.

He could see the hesitation in her posture now. The rigid tension in her shoulders had loosened, her fists no longer clenched for another round. Her breathing was heavy, but not from exertion—no, this was something else. Confusion, maybe. Doubt.

“Who the fuck is Y/N?” she snapped, her voice colder than he’d ever heard it, a sharp edge to her tone. Her gaze pierced through him like she was demanding answers to questions she didn’t even know how to ask. But behind that, something flickered—a hesitation, a crack in her hardened exterior. It was subtle, but Jason caught it, and it twisted the knife in his chest even deeper.

“You are,” Jason said, his voice raw, barely keeping steady. He took a cautious step toward her, his hands lowered, palms facing her as if he were trying to calm a wild animal. “Y/N, it’s me. Jason.”

Her eyes narrowed, and for a second, something sparked behind them—something familiar. But just as quickly, it vanished, replaced by a cold, distant stare. She shook her head, taking a step back as if his words were dangerous.

“I don’t know who the hell you think I am,” she muttered, her tone biting, “but I’m not her.”

The words were like a punch to his gut. Jason’s heart pounded in his chest as a mix of anger and desperation flared within him. How could she not remember? How could she forget everything they went through? He clenched his fists, trying to steady his breath, his mind racing for a way to break through to her.

“You don’t remember me?” Jason asked, his voice softer now, almost pleading. He stepped closer again, his eyes searching her face for any sign, any flicker of recognition. “You don’t remember us?”

She stared at him, her jaw clenched, her eyes flicking over him like she was trying to figure him out. For a moment, her gaze lingered on the way he stood, the subtle shift in his weight, the way he held himself. There was something there, buried deep within her, something that made her hesitate.

“No,” she finally said, but her voice wavered ever so slightly. “I don’t... I don’t know you.”

Jason’s heart broke a little more with each word, but he couldn’t stop now. He had to make her remember, had to find a way to bring her back. He took a deep breath, letting the emotions flood through him as he spoke.

“You’re Y/N.” His voice was steady now, filled with quiet determination. “We fought together. We survived together. You’re the one who kept me going when I thought everything was lost. We—” He swallowed hard, his throat tightening. “We loved each other, Y/N.”

Her eyes flickered again, this time more noticeably. She looked away for a split second, as if trying to push something away, something clawing at the edges of her mind.

Jason’s heart pounded harder. There was a crack, a small one, but it was there. He could feel it. She wasn’t fighting him anymore—not like she was before. She couldn’t hurt him.

“Why... Why can’t I...” Her voice trailed off, her hand going to her temple, fingers pressing against her head like she was trying to force herself to remember, or maybe trying not to.

Jason moved in closer, his voice soft but filled with urgency. “It’s in there, Y/N. You can feel it, can’t you? There’s a part of you that knows I’m telling the truth. You don’t want to hurt me. I can see it. I can feel it.”

She looked at him again, her lips parting slightly, confusion swirling in her expression. Her hands trembled for a brief second before she clenched them into fists, shaking her head like she was trying to shake off the weight of his words.

“I... I don’t know you!” she insisted, but her voice was weaker now, cracking under the pressure of something she couldn’t explain. “I don’t know anything!”

Jason’s chest tightened at the sound of her breaking down, and for a brief moment, he saw the girl he once knew—the girl beneath the armor and confusion. He couldn’t let her slip away. Not again.

In a bold move, he stepped even closer, closing the distance between them until he was right in front of her. His hand hovered near her cheek, hesitating for only a second before he gently placed it against her skin. She flinched but didn’t pull away. Her eyes snapped to his, wide and searching.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his thumb brushing against her cheek in a touch so familiar it almost hurt him. “You used to hate it when I’d call you that when you were mad. You’d roll your eyes and make that face like you were too good for me. But you’d laugh. You always laughed.”

Her breath hitched, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out. Her eyes softened for just a heartbeat, her gaze trapped in his.

“Jason...” she whispered, barely audible, her voice shaking.

He froze, his heart thudding in his chest. She said his name. He saw it, felt it—a spark. But then, just as quickly as it came, her eyes darkened again, a shadow falling over her face. She jerked away from him, stepping back as if she’d been burned.

“No,” she muttered, her voice panicked now. “No. I can’t... I can’t be her.”

Jason’s hand dropped to his side, the moment slipping away, but he didn’t give up. He couldn’t. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm, to keep reaching out to her. “You are her, Y/N. You can fight it, but you know deep down, you’re her. You just have to remember.”

She shook her head violently, turning away from him, her hands trembling as she clutched her head. “I don’t know who I am! I don’t know who you are! Leave me alone!”

But Jason wouldn’t let her run. He stepped forward, his voice firm but gentle. “I won’t. I won’t leave you. Not again. Not like this.”

For a long moment, she didn’t move, her back still to him, her breathing ragged. Jason stayed there, waiting, hoping. He knew this fight wasn’t over—not with her.

[clangrogu]

DC x Reader Fic Recs

It Got Worse by @hannibals-favourite-meal (Clark Kent x Reader, F!Reader, Wayne!Reader, SFW, Pregnancy, Bruce is overprotective)

Office Crushes by @hannibals-favourite-meal (Clark Kent x Reader, SFW, A/B/O Dynamics, Omega!Reader, Plus size!Reader, Slight angst, Protective!Clark)

Playground Chaos by @kimberly-spirits13 (Jason Todd x Reader, GN!Reader, SFW)

At the Stitches by @kimberly-spirits13 (Jason Todd x Reader, Black Widow!Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Reader has magic)

To the Paparazzi by @innerwomen (Bruce Wayne x Reader, F!Reader, Batmom!Reader, Husband!Bruce Wayne, SFW, Slight angst, Body shaming, Mild swearing, COVID-19 mentions)

Keep the Doors Locked by @hannibals-favourite-meal (Bruce Wayne x Reader, Batmom!Reader, Batboys x Batmom!Reader F!Reader, NSFW, Smut, Getting walked in on, Bi!reader mention)

Just a Couple More Minutes by @innerwomen (Bruce Wayne x Reader, Batboys x Batmom!Reader, F!Reader, Batmom!Reader, Husband!Bruce Wayne, SFW, Slightly Suggestive)

Illegal by @hannibals-favourite-meal (Batmom!Reader, Damian Wayne x Batmom!Reader, Bruce Wayne x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Implication of smut, Puberty mentions)

What Is A Mother, But The Woman Who Loves Us Most? by @ragingbookdragon (Batmom!Reader, Batboys x Batmom!Reader, Bruce Wayne x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Angst, Hurt/Comfort)

I Have Too Many Children by @ragingbookdragon (Batmom!Reader, Batboys x Batmom!Reader, Bruce Wayne x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Implications of sex)

I’ve Finally Found Something For My Shelf by @ragingbookdragon (Batmom!Reader, Batboys x Batmom!Reader, Bruce Wayne x Reader, F!Reader, SFW)

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me" by @allysunny (Bruce Wayne x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Pregnancy, Bale!Bruce Wayne)

A New Beginning by @hannibals-favourite-meal (Bruce Wayne x Reader, Plus size!Reader, F!Reader, SFW)

Slumber Party by @bippot (Adrian Chase x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Reader is kidnapped and kinda traumatised, Canon typical violence, Minor injuries)

Now or Never by @whirlybirbs (Adrian Chase x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Mild depiction of injuries, Reader is a retired hero)

[assassinmidnight]

Flufftober day 21: Bonfire

Jason/RedHood xVigilante!AFAB!Autistic!Reader

Not proof read, I have dyslexia and I did my test, YAY(sorry for any mistakes)

It's the same as all the other fluffs from this tober, same couple.

Summery: Bonfires, roasted almonds and annoying brothers.

One would think Jason got enough of fire and smoke on a daily basis by just being Red Hood, one wouldn’t be wrong in that thought either. But one would have forgotten to consider one important aspect and that would be Jason’s sweet partner who had a soft spot for bonfires and roasted almonds, which is how Jason found himself here, at the Gotham park, wandering down the small fair with you.

“Thank you for going with me today, I’ve always wanted to go here with a date,” Jason smiled as you spoke, “Sorry it took so long for it to happen, but I’m happy I’m the first,” he kissed the crown of your head. As you continued to walk and talk, Jason felt his heart tighten at the thought of doing this every year. You’d been dating for a little less than 3 months, but you’ve known each other for years. “...Jay, you okay?” He turned to see your concerned eyes looking up at him, “Yeah, sorry, just a little lost in my thoughts,” he smiled and continued to walk with you, eventually making it to the bonfire itself. He wrapped his arms around you from behind and watched as the fire and smoke rose to the sky.

“If you want, I can make sure there's a bonfire on our anniversary as well,” Jason whispered in your ear, “It would be cute, but knowing you, it would be an illegal fire,” you look up to him, seeing the flames reflect in his eyes. He glances down at your lips for a brief second before responding “So? I’d burn Arkham down if it made you happy,” he gave your lips a slight peck. “I’ll go grab some roasted almonds, you wait right here, okay princess?” You nodded and watched him disappear in the crowds, placing your headphones over your ears while the fire raged on.

Jason huffed as he escaped the crowd, heading straight for the three figures who had been watching them from afar.

“Dick, I know-”

“Hey! It was Damians idea, not mine,” Dick was quick to defend, pointing at the youngest of the four. “Tch, snitch. You wanted to come here as much as I did,” Damian retorted, eating some pink cotton candy. “Well you’ve seen, so scram,” Jason looked over at his ‘brothers’, they all looked so inconspicuous, matching scarves. He had the same one too, with a “J” on it, Alfred had made them last year. “Well, we came to spy, but the vibe here is nice so no,” Tim replied, voice annoying as ever, in Jason’s opinion. “Can’t you le-” “Before you lose your temper, dear brother. I would recommend going back to your love, otherwise they might just disappear,” Damian said, smug as ever. Once again Jason huffed before turning on his heel. “Wait!” Jason turned at Dick’s words, seeing a red velvet box in his brother's hand. “Good luck little bro,” Jason’s eyes widened at the box before taking it. “Thanks,” he muttered before heading back into the crowd. 

“Hi,” you felt his hand on your shoulder and jumped a bit at the sudden contact, but after a minute you relaxed into his chest. “Was it that hard to find the roasted almonds?” you asked, intertwining one hand with his.

“.......”

--

*I DO NOT ALLOW THE PLAGIARISM OF MY WORK, FOR IT TO BE USED IN AI OR FOR IT TO BE REPOSTED ELSEWHERE*

[seven-004]

Get Off my Car!

Red Hood x Reader (f!)

Scary vigilante or not after a 12 hour shift anyone would be annoyed with someone refusing to stop using your car as a seat

Warnings: Mild banter and a few innuendos, blood and mild panic

🚫 DO NOT USE FOR ACCURATE MEDICAL DIAGNOSIS OR PROCEDURES OF ANY KIND IM NOT A TRAINED MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL WHATSOEVER 🚫

Taking on a considerable amount of under paid overtime was less than ideal. More so as a fresh med grad at a Bowery hospital. But you needed the hours and more than anything the experience

Slightly regretting it when needing to cross the dark parking lot after a graveyard shift. In a City brimming with vigilantism and villains. They just had to give the worst shift to the newbie huh

It was a dreadingly long walk to your car that felt like a lot longer than it probably was

But here you were nonetheless. A very large obstacle in your way. Something that not only had your mouth gaping open but also incredibly irritated. Red Hood was using the back half of your cars roof as a seat. Said half visibly closer to the ground than the other. While audibly playing some kind of shooter game on his phone

"Uhm- Red Hood can you-" the current irritation was lower than the fear while you clutched your satchel gathering your courage "please can you get off my car sir?"

He was secretly offended you thought he was old enough to be called sir and it may have influenced in his response

He gave you the finger and promptly resumed his game. Not that he'd even paused it to begin with. You were too tired to deal with this after such a long shift. Your keys were already clutched between your knuckles throughout the walk to your car and accessible. You simply got into your car and in a burst of courage? tiredness? irritation? it could of been anything honestly

Regardless of the reason, you simply put the car in reverse and satisfyingly watched him roll right off. No middle finger now huh

Rolling your window down, he lay on the floor twitching. The adrenaline was certainly there now realizing what you'd done and quite honestly expecting to see a gun pointing at your face through the window

However, Red Hood was now laughing loudly from his position on the floor

"You're crazy! Sure caught me off guard"

He continued to squawk on the floor. Leather jacket visibly crinkling with his movement. Not exactly what you were expecting but you'd take it over a gun to the face any day. Peeking curiously out your window with baited breath just waiting for something else to happen. For anything else to happen

Finally sitting up. His day had been less than ideal and rolling off of a car certainly wasn't something he planned on doing today but it somehow didn't make the day any worse. Especially not when you, a cute person in scrubs watched him intently form the driver seat

"Hey-" you visibly flinched "I'll take ya home" still frozen in your seat as he got off the floor and walked over to your passenger side door

Only turning to look at Red Hood when he knocked on the window. Narrowing your eyes at him. He chuckled. "I won't do anything weird, swear" putting a hand up as if saying an oath. Barely convinced and still suspicious, you very slowly moved to unlock the car

"Try anything funny and I'll run you over as soon as you get outta my car"

He laughed again slipping into your passenger seat "Got it. I'll just see you home"

Your already tense shoulders were now on the verge of cramping. "Put your seatbelt on" Red Hood only stared. Realizing it was a stupid request but persisting anyway now that the words had left your mouth "wouldn't want another incident involving my car now would we"

His presence was both releaving and unnerving. Pro, scariest vigilante was here to protect you should anything happen. Con, a huge buff man was now sitting in your passenger seat in the dead of night with no witnesses should anything happen

He was incredibly amused but still complied. You were extremely gutsy and he applauded that. Meanwhile you had no idea where said courage was stemming from

You began the drive home, Red Hood going back to his game. It wasn't a long drive or an eventful one either. Soon pulling into the apartments parking lot "Alright this is it" he didn't make any effort to move. Your shoulder brushing his broad ones when you gathered your satchel and keys

You'd realized how much his shoulders spilled over the seats width when he first took a seat. But it made you feel small nonetheless

You got out of the car and took a few steps towards the stairs leading up. Red Hood was already half a step behind you without really noticing him get out of the car, proceeding to lock it "That won't really do much"

"Yeah I know... it's more for comfort I suppose?" Shrugging absentmindedly, if you were to get robbed not much could stop it unless there was someone there in the moment brave enough to do something about it

He got in the elevator with you, more than you already expected for little ol' you. Accompanying you all the way to the door "Thank you for escorting me?... accompanying me all the way here. Sorry about the car. Genuinely. Omg I didn't apologize sooner I'm so so so sorry. Are you alright? I'm a terrible person- I'm a terrible doctor." His chuckle brought you back up to earth from that downward spiral

"I'm alright-"

"Are you sure! Should I examine you?"

"Oh? "

"What- no wait not like that" if Red Hood had been amused before by how you rolled him off your car he was more amused now seeing you flustered

"I'll see you around" he waved and simply walked off leaving you dumbstruck and flushed red at your apartment door

"I'll see you around? What a dork"

"Shut up dickhead or I'll punch your teeth in" is heard down the hall and you wonder if he was talking to another tenant

— • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • —

It'd been a few nights now and there hadn't been any vigilantes in sight. Until tonight at least. Similarly as the first time you approached your car after another long shift and there he was on your car roof again

Irritation bubbled up like pasta water reaching a boil about to spill over

"Do I have to roll you off again!" A scowl evident under the street light in the open lot

"Oh no not today haha" he slipped off the roof with a practiced elegance a white paper cup in hand, another next to where he was just sitting

A lid immediately placed on those boiling noodles effectively suffocating all irritation originally there "Coffee?" Not exactly what you were expecting making it quite the pleasant surprise

"Oh sorry, I'll be going to bed soon but thank you though" you felt bad, sheepishly turning him down with pink cheeks

"Oh right, it's decaf!" Red Hood quickly reached for the cup on top your car to present it to you, the sticker on it in fact saying decaf

"Aw thank you, that's really sweet"

There was a slight awkward pause. You took a sip of it, the coffee itself was really good although plain. But still hot making you wonder how he'd done it when it seemed like he'd been sitting there for a bit waiting for you

"Ah can I?"

You pointed at the driver side door. Which he was standing in front of

"Oh right, sure" "Smooth "

"Shut up!"

"Excuse me?"

"Not you! Ugh" he seemed to press a hand to his forehead? Brow? It was hard to tell with the helmet "the coms, ah communications" he pointed to the side of the helmet presumably where his ears were

"Oh I understand, cool... you're not crazy then" you tried to dissuade the awkwardness

Red Hoods shoulders eased down and he chuckled "Something like that" he left it open to interpretation and it made you smirk. You liked his humor

"Right..." You teased moving to try and unlock your door. He didn't move much, shadow cast by the street light engulfing your figure. "You going home with me today too?" He snorted, realizing what you said "No! Stoppp it not what I meant" you attempted to shove him out of the way but struggled which only made him laugh "Meanie"

However once unlocked he opened the door and stepped aside for you, it'd been a long time since someone had opened a door for you "Than- thank you" he nodded

Once both of you were seated "Why so nice all of a sudden?" he hummed mulling over the question while you started the car

"I guess I was in a bad mood?"

You snorted "Aren't you usually" you snarked back without much though "Sorry!" You squeaked "Don't shoot me please, you're just easy to talk to I didn't mean to"

He laughed fully and it made your face heat up in embarrassment "I don't mind, you've got guts I like that" he stretched in the cramped seat bumping your shoulder. Sending a wave of heat upon contact, said heat collecting in your face

Hiding your face behind the cup of coffee "Ah, I wasn't sure how you liked it..."

"Oh it's fine, it's really good coffee"

"Yeah, I know a place"

"Open at this hour?"

"I called in a favor"

"For me?" You spared a quick glance his way, but Red Hood was avoiding your gaze looking out the window. A hand rubbing the back of his neck. It made you feel special

The little of what was left of the ride was silent, until he was seeing you off at your door once more "Would you like to sit and finish the rest of your coffee?" You opened the door inviting him in

Red Hood pondered it but realized that required taking off his helmet to do. Knocking on such "Oh right! Sorry" you bumped your forehead gently with a fist "Thank you for the coffee again" remembering something and gesturing Red Hood to wait while you run into the apartment for a short time

Re-emerging with a small tupperware container with a red lid "A snack for your coffee, I can reheat it for you if it's gone cold if you like" some of that heat radiating off of him crawling up his neck

He takes a seat on the ledge of a nearby roof, removing the red lid to reveal what look like homemade tumb print cookies wrapped in a cloth napkin "Ouuu can I have one?"

"It's alright thanks though" you hand him the container and wave him goodbye

~

"Fuck off Dick" he hides them in his leather jacket from the other vigilantes view

"Pleaseeee, c'mon Jay I let you borrow my electric coasterrr"

The older of the two whining "Fine just one tho" he keeps them hidden however until his helmet is off and he's had one. Only then does he offer one to the blue and black sporting acrobat

"Oh these are good! Bring me some too next time"

— • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • —

"Hood!" You smile seeing his bulky figure sat on top of your car. You could get used to his presence even if just for the short ride home, maybe look forward to it sometimes after a couple nights without seeing him

You approached you car with a slight pep in your step. None of that initial irritation present

"Hey!" Red Hood perked up from his seat where he was previously looking at his phone. "Think you can share that cookie recipe?" He says hopping off

"Of course, I can show you how to make them if you'd like"

"I would actually" you can hear the smile in his voice even through the modulator and it ignites a familiar heat in your face "are you free tomorrow?"

"Yeah, what time works" now you had more to look forward to as you approached the car more

"I can come around noon or sometime later if you'd like"

"No that works just fine" it'd been a particularly long shift and the slight chill to the night air made the exhaustion evident with the large yawn

"Here, I'll drive"

"It's fine I don't mind"

He didn't budge, only holding his hand out waiting of your keys. "What, don't think I can drive" he teased and you begrudgingly handed your keys over. Both of you made your way over to the passenger side and he opened the door for you again. Tossing his leather jacket on you once you were seated

You were about to protest but he gently closed the door and made his way over to the drivers seat. Laughing at him when his knees pressed against the dashboard

Not missing the way his suit fit tightly or how his forearm looked while he held the wheel. The drive was incredibly smooth making it easy to doze off quickly. More so when wrapped in the jacket. It was comfortingly warm and smelled lightly of cologne

Red Hood quite liked how you looked snuggled into his jacket. Made him want to snap a picture but thought against the idea not wanting to seem weird

Soon he pulled into the parking lot but you were still sound asleep. Not wanting to wake you up he gathered your things and with the utmost care picked you up bridal style. Making sure to keep you wrapped up in the brown leather

He felt bad going into your home, more so looking around for your bedroom but he didn't want to just leave you on the couch

He set you gently on the first bed he found. After only peeking into the bathroom. Red Hood decided to leave his jacket too telling himself he'd just pick it up when he came to bake. In reality he just didn't want to risk waking you up. Leaving a little note on the dresser before locking up on his way out

— • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • —

Stirring awake face still shoved under the covers. You didn't remember going to bed

But here you were under the covers, shoes removed in the guest room. But still in your scrubs. And also a brown leather jacket. The one Red Hood gave you before driving you home

Turning to face the edge of the bed and sitting upright, noticing the slip of paper on the dresser

You fell asleep in the car, sorry to barge into your house like this but I didn't wanna wake you. I left your bag in the living room before I locked up on my way out

With a poorly drawn version of his helmet in red pen. You left the guest room with a smile on your face and tidied up slightly before going into your room to shower. You'd slept in slightly and only had a chance to do that before you heard a knock at the door. Rushing, you opened the door in an oversized shirt and still wet hair "Oh I can come back later if you want"

He was in a t-shirt and jeans, still wearing his helmet, tupperware in hand "oh it's alright, if you don't mind waiting a little bit" he nodded and you showed him to the living room. Taking a look around and getting a better look at things now that he wasn't reaching in the dark like last night "make yourself comfortable I'll be right back, you can leave that wherever"

You disappeared into the back room and put on a pair of leggings and patted out your hair down with a towel some more before brushing it through another time "I slept in a bit and didn't have time to get things ready sorry" he's sitting awkwardly on your couch hands on his knees

"It's alright" you go back into the kitchen and he follows you awkwardly. Digging around a cloth cabinet where you keep the clean dish rags and cloth napkins

"Aha!" You hold two aprons proudly "take your pick" the more used looking one is black with white lettering saying I don't know what I'm doing which was tempting but the more colorful one had Kiss the cook

"If I pick that one will you do it?" He asks pointing at the pastel tie dye apron in your left hand

"Depends if your cooking is any good" you challenged with a smirk tossing it to him

He caught it effortlessly "I'll hold you to that" you laughed nodding, tying your own appron and going to fetch the ingredients and preheating the oven

A little bit of chaos and shenanigans ensued. But all small messes and a lot of fun. He was surprisingly good in the kitchen, grasping what you showed him fairly quickly

"Now we can make the jam while the dough chills"

"That was homemade too?" You nod chuckling slightly at the awe in his robotic voice "It's really not that hard"

"It isn't ?" He was being suggestive again and you rolled your eyes at him

"Oh shut it or I won't give you any to take home"

"You wouldn't dare!" He holds a hand to his chest dramatically

"Fuck around and find out" he gasps crumbling to the floor in fake sobs and you laugh getting some strawberries and raspberries from the fridge "now go wash your hands again so you can help me cut these strawberries"

He mock salutes from the floor and kicks up into a standing position going to do exactly what you asked, washing the few dirty dishes leftover from when you were making the dough not long ago

"Oh you don't need to" you try to tell him when you notice but he finishes washing them anyway before rejoining you at the kitchen island to finish cutting the strawberries into 4's. Once that's finished you have him squeeze some lemon juice while you get the berries in a sauce pan with sugar and the lemon juice once he hands it over "now just bring to a light boil and stir constantly"

"And we can blend them or mash" he scavenges a drawer you point at and hands you the masher "now we just let it cool"

You turn off the stove and remove the pan before grabing the dough from the fridge "we can roll and cut the cookies out while it cools" you grab a pair of cookie cutters and rolling pins sprinkling a bit of powdered sugar to the kitchen island before grabbing the two dough balls from the bowl

Showing Red Hood to what thickness to roll it out to, him mirroring as you do it. Same when you cut out the circles and reroll the dough to make more

"Now just press your thumb into it a little bit" you snorted as he pushed holes through the first two before getting the pressure right. Now fetching the sauce pan with the jam and two spoons

"Just scoop a little bit into the indent"

He didn't fill the donuts he made and the first he overfilled but the rest came out nicely, it wasn't long before the two batches were in the oven "So about that kiss?"

You'd forgotten all about it "Hmm I'll give the kiss of approval once I try one"

He grumbles but agrees

"Oh I didn't get a chance to wash your jacket sorry" he hums curiously and you go back to your room to fetch his neatly folded leather jacket

"Oh don't worry about it"

~

The smell of the cookies began filling your apartment and the timer you set once they were in the oven went off

"Alright moment of truth" you grin, grabbing a hand towel and opening the oven to remove the trays setting them on the stove top to cool "aww they look good!" You smile at his single print and your heart print cookies

You grab one of his and blow on it a couple of times to cool it off faster before popping it into your mouth. "Mmm~" you sigh content "that's good" you nod approvingly

"So... does it get the kiss of approval?" Once you finish you lean up to place a peck to the cheek of Hoods helmet

It almost made him want to take it off

— • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • —

It'd been a couple of days since you'd baked together and he'd stopped by to drive you home most nights since. Hood hadn't stopped by tonight however

It made the drive home rather lonely

More so when GCPD had closed off a street and you'd had to reroute the way home. It made it seem longer than it probably was. But you made it home nonetheless

Readying for bed but not able shake off a slight unnerving feeling. The ruckus from the reroute had since settled but you couldn't. Already in your pjs but unable to go to bed instead pacing your living room in the dark and basking in the yellow fridge light every so often. Nearly jumping out of your skin when you heard a tap on your living room widow

Should I look, what if it's nothing or just a stray cat or something. It could be a psycho clown. Or or or maybe it's Hood?

There's another tap only this time it sounds more like an actual knock. Your brain is saying no but your gut is telling you to go look. You end up listening to your gut and rip open the curtain

It is Hood. He's hunched over and his helmet is cracked open on top. A jolt of electricity shooting out of your chest and into the rest of your body

"Hood!" You rush to open the window and climb out onto the fire escape. The bars of the platform are cold and dig into your bare feet. You struggle to lift such a tall dense man and help him inside

He collapses on your floor and you mildly panic "okay okay" you rush to turn the lights on and grab the closest medical equipment

His helmet is cracked open and there's a puncture wound on his abdomen it's not big but it is deep. You snap a pair of gloves on and begin to cut his suit. Cleaning it out and taping a gauze over it. There doesn't seem to be damage to any organs or internal bleeding for the time being, at least not that you could visibly spot without any scans. Now his head "I- I have to remove your helmet alright" he nods off "don't move your head alright" you quickly and carefully take it off, there's a red domino mask over his eyes

God he's gorgeous- not the time! Not the time!

He's bleeding a lot, it looks like repeated trauma to the head. It's no wonder his helmet broke. But the bleeding is a good sign it means it's not gathering in his head building pressure. You go to get a towel to soak up some of the blood

His knee is dislocated! How did he even get here

You get a small hand towel and fold it "Bite this, I'm going to push your knee into place. It's going to hurt alright" he clenches his hands above his head and you adjusted everything "alright one, two, three-" applying enough pressure to pop it into place a muffled cry following soon after

The bleeding on his head seemed to subside and you began to evaluate for a concussion. Then cleaning and bandaging his head

He had lost a lot of blood from his head wound and was starting to loose consciousness but you tried to keep him up until you made sure the head trauma wasn't fatal "I need to remove the mask to see your eyes alright"

Hood could no longer consent to procedures as he slipped further and further into unconsciousness. Guilt heavy on your heart, you peeled off the last physical thing protecting his identity

Prying open his cerulean eyes to examine. They were the most beautiful shade of blue, but clouded by a dizzy haze muddling his head "I'm going to get you through this alright" it was hard to tell if you were comforting him or trying to reassure yourself. Regardless the trauma to his head didn't seem fatal upon an initial, thorough examination

Now that Hood was stable for the time being you began clean up. Mostly the pool of blood seeping out of the towel that was supposed to be collecting it

The adrenaline only barely beginning to ware off now. The cleaning wasn't as thorough as your treatment was but it was efficient. Trembling hands wiping the last remains of the crimson stain that would certainly persist long after this

Now how could you make Hood more comfortable? Attempting to lift him onto the couch or spare bed in the guest room was out of the question. You could hardly lift him WITH his help. Not to mention the risk in moving him would pose to his injuries when done incorrectly, which would be the likely outcome

Deciding it was easier to bring the bed to him you went into the guest room and began to strip the mattress. Tossing the comforter and pillows carelessly to the floor and proceeding to yank the mattress off the base. It was almost as heavy as Hood but far less delicate. Manhandling it onto its side and easily sliding it out of the room across the wooden floor

Was it collecting all sorts of dust and nasties? Most certainly. But you didn't care, you could buy a new mattress cover later. Letting it fall flat behind the couch. Now the next issue. Getting Hood on the mattress

Simply getting the damn thing into the living room was a workout in and of its own right. Doing it like at the hospital would be the easiest, now scavenging your apartment for a sturdy blanket or towel that could fit Hood

Settling for the comforter on the guest room floor. And rolling it the long way under Hood and steadily lifting him one part at a time. This was infinitely easier with another person helping on the other end but this would have to do

Firmly grabbing the quilted fabric by his head and lifting his upper torso half onto the mattress making sure his head rested securely on it. Then going around and doing the same with his feet. And again pulling his upper torso to the middle of the mattress and running back to do the same with his feet and lastly planting yourself firmly on the floor and pulling on the middle of the comforter to straighten him out

You were now running on fumes. And still went and gathered a couple of blankets and the pillows from the guest room floor as well. The blood loss made Hood loose a large part of his natural body heat and you had to make up for it with a thick fluffy blanket that you, with great effort spread on top of him

The adrenaline had now fully worn off and that last twelve hour shift began to take its toll along with all the stressors and grueling labor of this rescue

You wanted to do more for him, you had to. But your body gave out, making you slowly sink to the floor next to the mattress. Curling into the little bit of the blankets that spilled over the edge

— • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • —

The following afternoon he began to stir awake. Groaning at the soreness, everything was hazy until he noticed you. Still laying on the floor near his bed, head resting on a folded arm doubling as a makeshift pillow, other arm tucked away under the thick layer of blankets. One you reached out sometime in your sleep

You had had a rough night he could tell that much. He couldn't remember much from the previous night and a brain splitting headache shoved it's way to the forefront making him try to hold his head

The movement woke you up, immediately reaching for a trashcan you'd dragged closer before collapsing onto the floor and placing it by the edge of the bed

Not a moment later does he begin to hurl. You try helping him sit a bit more comfortable and rub circles into his back until he's finished "Nausea?" he tries to nod but winces, holding the uninjured side of his head

"Yeah" you put the bin down and help him lay back down

"Remember anything from last night?"

He scrunches his face "I remember- patrolling, and then a fight I think"

"It's alright, you sustained a mild traumatic brain injury so your memory can be a bit spotty." You get up and move to the other side of the room to get new bandage for his head, stretching out a few kinks and aches along the way "I'll change your head wrap okay?"

"Yesss Dok" he slurred slightly. Frowning when you returned to his side noticing the dry blood on your shirt, and then pants "were you... bleeding?" He looks between the large stain and your face worry heavy on his features

You smile gently at him, taking a seat on the floor where you were previously sleeping and leaning in to check the bandages on his head "no, you were bleeding"

"Oh, m'kay" you begin to remove the bandage that's covered in dry blood. Gently cleaning the wound again and beginning to wrap it in a clean gauze and bandage. Those same cerulean eyes never looking away, only now it was a conscious effort. He wasn't used to such delicate touches

Once nice and snug "I can get you some pain meds if you like?"

"Tryna get me high?"

"Tryna stay miserable with that headache and the lot?" Hood scoffed pouting slightly at your raised brow "Yeah that's what I thought" you disappeared into the bathroom to see what you could give him, returning to the living room with a little orange bottle "I've got hydrocodone well it's Vicodin... I just can't give you anything for the nausea if I give you any prescription painkillers"

"Thas fine"

Getting a glass of water for him and handing him two pills. The absolute menace to society dry swallowed the pills "You psycho" he cackled before you made him drink the water anyway

Complaining about it after every sip "I'll make you drink another one later" he groaned loudly

"I'm sure you could short stack"

"Well this short stack popped your knee into place and I'll pop it right out, don't forget I know where all your wounds are" a shutter ran down his spine, sending small ripples across his skin. He guessed you were kidding but your side eye made him not want to find out. There was also an attractiveness to the way you threatened him. Though he wouldn't be admitting that out loud, brain injury or not

Going to put the glass and medication on the coffee table "Don't move your knee at all I'ma go find a knee brace" Disappearing into a hallway and returning with a black bulky contraption in hand

"No"

"You're worse than the kids at work you big baby" he flushed pink and groaned again as you slid the thing on his leg, painfully aware of your proximity. Your hands tracing the defined muscle under the tactical pants and realizing just how toned he was. The comforter pooling by his hips as he sat up more, revealing his bulky arms and chiseled abs. Something you somehow didn't notice in the busy haze that had been patching him up

"There, it's not so bad" he huffed pouting, it truly was adorable but you couldn't fold on a patient

"Hungry?"

He tries to nod again but the swirling pain reminds him of the injury very much so still present on his head

"I in fact do not have hospital food for that wound but I can make you a smoothie if you don't mind the noise of the blender?"

"I'll manage" Hood wasn't sluring at all now which was a great sign. Becoming somewhat more at ease with Hoods condition you focused on pulling some fresh fruit from a basket and a few more ingredients from the fridge. All while Hoods piercing blue gaze followed you around the kitchen. Intently tracing your every move, in the all too calculating manor he knew

You were trust worthy, you hadn't given him away yet. You hadn't searched him for anything other than injuries from what he could tell "Hood?" You still called him by his alias so you didn't know his name

"Yeah?"

"Green apple and pear okay?" He hummed in agreement and you began to slice the fruit and toss it into the blender with a splash of milk and sugar "Alright I'm going to turn the blender on now okay" and true to your word the infernal whirring and crackling of the mashine filled the room

Hood gripped his hands over his ears. Acutely aware of the growing pain in his head. Only realizing it was over when you placed a gentle hand over his, a glass with a spoon in the other. Instantly relaxing under the soft touch "It turned out a little more like apple sauce than it did a smoothie, I hope you don't mind too much"

He smiled, chuckling slightly. Only to grimace at the increased pain in his abdomen "Easy there" he swayed a little and you helped hold him up steadying the room for him. "Let me get you a few extra pillows" you stacked the few that you'd already brought out and left for a few more to help Hood into a supported sitting position "better?"

Having learned his lesson for the time being he "mhmm"ed instead of nodding. Taking a seat on the floor once more and setting the apple sauce in his hands "What? You're not going to spoon feed the sick patient?" He teased, face looking too innocent for his tone

"Next you'll be asking me to kiss it better" you grumble amused

"Would you?" He batted his eyelashes and you laughed openly, the gesture catching you off guard. Beautiful. Your laugh left him awestruck. Dick was right

"I'll think about it" you smiled, feeling so much more at ease than only a couple hours prior. Hood was being his own suggestive flirty self and for some reason that brought you a lot of comfort "Hood?"

He looked up, spoonful of the light green smoothie sauce still in his mouth. It made you chuckle before a slight air of seriousness returned

"Why'd you come here?"

He drops the spoon into the large cup gently and he seems to ponder the question "I'm not exactly sure, I can't remember what happened well or what I was thinking at the time. But I suppose I just felt like I'd be safe with you" tears begin to well and sting your eyes

The entirety of having not just a life but his life in your hands and only your hands hit you like a sack of bricks. "Hey hey I'm sorry" his voice had become so soft and gentle unlike anything you'd heard in a long time. He sets down the cup and effortlessly scoops you up into his lap

You shake your head no and immediately crawl off as gingerly as you can "Your- no your knee and- and the wound I need to bandage it" but he pulls you back into his side a firm secure arm wrapped around you

"It's okay" he soothes squeezing your shoulders, radiating warmth again. That same faint smell of cologne you'd picked up from his jacket comforting "Thank you"

"You big dummy" you sniffle into his side finally wrapping your arms around him, careful to avoid the taped on gauze. The physical touch grounding you again. Specifically his warmth that had been lacking for most of the night. No longer cold and bleeding out. A warm bare chest against your cheek that echoed in your ear with the constant drumming of his heart. You kept him alive "You're so lucky I have equipment at home"

He chuckles and the deep rumble of it reverberates in his chest. His face, his voice, his laugh all weren't nearly as intimidating anymore without the distorted muffling of the helmet. You pull away wiping a stray tear "Alright I really do need to bandage you up now, no stalling" he gasps feigning offense

"How could you suggest such a thing, I would never" but that handsome, devilish smirk betrays him

"Yeah yeah yeah" you begin to fully pull away, but the arm that was around your shoulders falls to your hips and pulls you back down when you're halfway off the mattress "Hooood" you groan trying fight back the smile that wants to make it's way onto your features

He lets his arm drop and you crawl off the mattress once more to where the first aid kit and more medical supplies still lay sprawled out on the floor. Opening the kit and retrieving a rolled up bandage as well as a new gauze from the messy floor

You crawled back over to his side "Be gentle with me, I'm delicate" Hood batted his eyelashes at you once more and you snorted

"Clearly" you mused snapping on a new pair of gloves

He gasped once more, but didn't get a chance to put on more theatrics. Cringing at the feeling of the gauze with both dry and new blood being peeled off. You examined the wound once more, there was still no sign of internal bleeding or damage to any organs like in your first assessment. As well as no sign of infection

The object was somewhat blunt and most likely not meant to be used to stab someone with, it was an absolute wonder it didn't get infected because of the object or on the way here. Regardless you clean it again with a saline solution and open a new gauze to place over it. Securely and skillfully holding it in place with the bandage you wrap around Hood

Not noticing the way his set cerulean eyes trailed along. Seeing how serious and focused you became and how your hands pulled around his torso to wrap the tan fabric snuggly into place

Only when you pulled back to see his face did your eyes meet. The way he was already staring at you flustering

He couldn't help but lean in, drawn to you like a moth to an open flame. Clumsily and a little roughly pressing his lips to your forehead "H- Hood?" Your voice soft and cheeks pink at the unexpected gesture of affection. You couldn't deny he was attractive or that you liked how his lips felt "I thought- wasn't I supposed to be the one that- that's kissing it better?" You mumbled timidly

He chuckled, that same deep rumble from before. "So doctor, what do you prescribe"

"Stop teasing me" you pout and punch his chest playfully and he falls back on his elbows in response. "I'm prescribing lots of bed rest and less whining hmph" he gasps in offense again "I, however need a shower and change of clothes"

Hood remembers the blood crusting up the pijamas you're still wearing "Yeah of course" you smile gently at him

"I- do you want to change too? I'm not sure I have something that fits but I can take a look around?"

"Don't worry about that I'm fine" he smiles in return

"Okay, I won't be gone long. Don't move- well just don't hurt yourself more" you give his large hand a squeeze before scurrying off into your room

You desperately needed a long hot shower after everything that happened. The adrenaline long gone and sore tension taking it's place in your muscles. Especially after sleeping on the floor in that awkward position

Once under the water you can feel some of the aches drip away with the dry blood and some grime. A couple more pains being scrubbed away with the body wash

Your hair tangled, as you work shampoo into it trying to ease the knots out with your fingers. Letting the hot water run over your face for a couple seconds after you've rinsed the shampoo out

You're not entirely sure how long you've been in there but decide it's been long enough. Having the urge to check if Hood hasn't dislocated his knee again or the like "Oh, did you call off of work or something? I hadn't realized how late it was"

You see Hood still in bed "I missed my shift and I'm getting fired" you shrug and the look on Hoods face makes him look like a kicked puppy "I'm kidding, just your luck you caught me on my day off" but the look doesn't leave his face

"You spent your day off taking care of me?"

"Yeah?" You return to his bedside and place a gentle kiss on his head "What of it?"

He shrinks in on himself and gnaws at his bottom lip. Guilt evident "Hey-" there's a stubbornness in the way he refuses to look up at you until you guide his chin up "seriously Hood, I'd do it all over again if it meant you'd sit on my cars roof again another night"

The quiver to his lip has your heart seized in its embrace. A grasp you can't pull away from, and his eyes. His eyes so desperate and vulnerable, a vast sea you're drowning in until a glimmer of emerald makes you question if his eyes are truly blue

You don't have time to question it further before he's squeezing them shut and you've snapped out of the trance. Instinctively rubbing your own eyes

"I should do a short cranial nerve exam!" you blurt out suddenly. Realizing you should have done one earlier, he chuckles a bit appreciating the dissipating of the tension that had built up a little too quickly . There was an unexpected swirl of the pit within him that he'd felt with the sudden vulnerability. It'd settled quickly and that he was grateful for, especially with the subject change "I'll get a couple things"

He hums and you retreat down the hall and come back with a small basket of items

"First I'm going to test your sense of smell okay" you take a seat on the edge of the mattress and set the basket on the floor. He's about to glance into the basket when you catch his chin in your hand and stop him from turning his head

"Oh-" he looks flustered

You hadn't meant for the gesture to be as smooth as it had been "Sorry!" Hood doesn't respond but you feel the heat radiating from his face "no peeking, can't have you cheating"

You place a cheap sleeping mask over his eyes that you'd gotten in a bathset as a gift and he pouts "Smell this-" you grab a small brown vial and twist the cap off before bringing it up to Hood's nose hiding the label with the way you're holding it just in case he can peek under the bottom of the mask

"Mint?"

You nod before realizing he probably can't see "Yes good job." You cap the essential oil you'd nabbed from the bathroom

The blush doesn't leave his face at the praise and he only hopes the mask obscures it a bit

You grab the next vial and do the same as the first "Okay, tell me what this one is" he takes a sniff and scrunches his nose in a way that makes you think he'll sneeze but doesn't

"A citrus... orange?"

"Yes" you double check the label to make sure he's right "Alright last one" you retrieve the last little vial of the essential oils "What does this one smell like"

"....laaavender"

"Very good" his heart flutters, never would he have guessed he had something for praise "I'm going to take off the mask now so it'll probably be a little bright" you gently begin to pull away the fabric from his eyes. They remain closed for a bit before he begins to blink to get adjusted to the light again

"Next I'm going to do your eyes" you adjust yourself to be sitting in front of him "I'm going to feel around your eyes first okay?"

"Yeah"

"I'm going to get a bit close-" he's a bit dumbstruck until you gently press your thumbs to his cheekbones "does this pressure hurt at all?"

"No"

"Okay, is it uncomfortable at all?"

"No"

You move your fingers to press gently a few more times repeating the questions. Once satisfied you scooch back "Now I'm going to hold two fingers up. Look at my nose and without moving your head or looking away tell me which finger is moving"

There's a slight confusion at first with your left being his right that you both laugh at before you determine his peripherals are better than you'd expect from someone with a mild traumatic brain injury

"Now tell me when my fingers leave your field of vision okay"

You hold both index fingers together up by his nose before beginning to slowly pull them apart horizontally "Now" you nod and bring your fingers back to their initial staring point to repeat the same motion "Now"

"Okay good"

You repeat the motions going vertically as well as diagonally. His field of vision is reduced very mildly but it's not too serious all things considered

"Cover one eye" you repeat the same exercise with the one finger and then ask him to follow your finger as you trace a square in the air "Perfect, now the other" he covers his other eye "same thing, tell me when my finger leaves your field of vision"

One eye has a very slightly decreased field of view but it still traced movement perfectly

"I'm going to use this pen light to see your eyes okay. Make sure the pupils are dialing and responding to light as they should be. Let me know if you're experiencing any light sensitivity though and we can either take a break or move on"

He gives the okay and you flash the light enough for the pupil to constrict before pulling it away and watching the pupil dilate again. There's an odd comfortable intimacy with the proximity. One that lingers as you continue the tests. All requiring the same proximity that has him smelling the mint of your breath, he can only guess you brushed your teeth when you left to shower

Even as you make sure his facial muscles are functional he can only think of your gentle touches, hands warm and a bit dry. Probably from all the times you have to sanitize and wash your hands at the hospital. Your nails short and filed smooth, for the latex gloves he deduces

He drinks up all of you, every last drop a detail he savours with great reverence

You take a firm hold of his jaw and it makes his mouth run dry. Palms sweaty yet a raging fire lighting up his cheekbones "Say ah" your voice is smooth and it washes over him like a cool breeze but it does nothing to soothe the heat he feels just beneath the skin "What does this taste like?" You bring a dropper up to his lips and place a couple drops of the flavor on his tongue. He swallows, hard

"Its- it's strawberry"

Voice strained and eyes half lidded, he's all but putty in your hand "Yes, very good" releasing his jaw it's like he's able to breathe again. A function he hadn't realized he'd lost during that short period

"Lastly hearing, ideally this would be done with a tuning fork but I don't actually have any so we're gonna use my super legit singing bowl" Hood snorts at the small metal but very professional piece of equipment "yeah yeah yeah you're laughing now but it works"

He only rolls his eyes looking amused but complies when he has to shut his eyes

"Well-" you tap your fingertips together, your lips in a thin line "to no ones surprise I'm sure, you have a concussion. It's about a grade 2 but I'm no neurologist"

"Thank you" you smile at him and reach out for his hand

It's large and calloused but warm "I'd say anytime but I'd prefer if you came crashing down on my fire escape not bleeding out and loosing consciousness"

Hood only chuckles and pulls you into bed with him "Noted"

The first day of any recovery process was usually the most difficult but in-between the good company and some playful banter it was more than bearable. You had offered your apartment for him to stay in while you went to work the next day as well but he insisted he needed to go and check in with the rest of the bats and birds which you understood

[strawberryforks]

a fragile peace // red hood x vigilante!reader

summary: fighting crime is hard when the red hood makes (annoying, trailing, helping) you his business

warnings: violence, blood, guns, swearing

word count: 474 (a short one buuuut could become a mini-series if there’s interest)

a/n: requests/asks are open & encouraged!

red hood isn’t your enemy by any means–and you’re grateful for it. you don’t kill and he does so regardless of skill level, you just can’t see that ending well. you weren’t friends though, it was hard to be when he’d rather ruin your fun, attempt to kill (but succeed in maiming) your nemesis, and interrupt everything you did in the suit. being a vigilante (you went by striker) was supposed to be fun. it wasn’t when your mask wearing rival, and occasional reluctant ally, was always up in your business. it wasn’t, when he was always so serious.

he’s aiming a gun at the all but harmless villain lying on the ground–the guy, called himself ruckus, is already bleeding. externally. internally. all over the alleyway. “red hood!” you shout. he drops his chin down and turns his head to the side, looking at you. you can’t tell whether he’s smirking or angry, not with the mask on, but you don’t care. you tackle him to the ground. he throws the gun away like it burnt him. “don’t you ever fucking do that again, striker, i swear.”

you don’t care much, ignoring his words and the anger that bleeds into them. “and let you kill someone on my watch? you’re crazy!”

“that’s not what i’m talking about,” he grits. he pushes you off of him, manoeuvring into a sitting position. you realise then that he’s not smirking, he’s livid. snarling, almost. he glances at the villain who’s pathetically limping away and then to the gun, and back to you. “the safety on that was off. i could’ve shot you.”

“no, you were about to shoot him.” you say, angling your thumb towards the opening of the alleyway.

then red hood is up in your business, in your face. he’s taking small steps forward that you match with large ones backwards. you’re backed into the wall, your back hits first and your head presses back into something softer than bricks. one of red hood’s hands is above your shoulder on the wall and the other is behind your head, like a cushion.

caged in, your breath quickens. you feel wild, like a cornered animal and debate doing something stupid, something so predictable, as striking. red hood drops his head, and looks (you think but then again he’s wearing a mask) directly into your eyes. “i said, don’t you ever do that again.”

“maybe back off once in awhile red—i could’ve handled him.” you hate that your voice wobbles but how the hell are you supposed to be confident when he’s talking to you like that and looking at you in a way that you can’t decide if you hate or love. woah. that thought makes you pause.

he’s still staring at you, glare ever unwavering. “i won’t tackle you when you’re holding a loaded weapon. there. happy?”

he pushes off of the wall, taking a small step back and nods once. “i’ll leave the little criminals to you, i guess. don’t die and make me regret it, striker.”

it’s peace. a fragile one, but you’ll take it for now.

[librababe99]

Vigilante's Lullaby |Part Three|

cw: MDNI, 18+, Jason Todd, Gender Neutral Reader, angst, melancholy, light smut, hurt no comfort, slow burn word count: 2.9K

Summary: In the dead of night, Jason slips into your apartment, seeking solace in the only place that gives him peace—your arms. With each visit, the line between passion and desperation blurs, as both of you cling to the fleeting moments where the world and its darkness fade away. How long can love survive when both of you are standing on the edge of oblivion?

A/N: While I love angst and slow burn, I felt that adding a bit of love between the two could brighten things up. Even if it's just temporary...we're only preventing the inevitable. Also feel free to comment, like and reblog!

(Part One) (Part Two) (DC Masterlist)  (Part Four)

The first time Jason had slipped into your apartment, it was out of necessity—another injury that needed tending, another mission that had gone sideways. At first, he’d only come for the quiet safety of your place, the familiar comfort of your hands mending him in the dead of night. But that was months ago.

Somewhere along the way, the visits changed. They grew more frequent, and you started noticing he didn’t always arrive with fresh bruises or bandaged cuts. He began to come without a word, slipping in through your window and climbing into your bed as if he belonged there. The injuries weren’t the only wounds he needed healing.

Tonight was no different.

The soft click of the window opening barely registered in your sleep. Jason’s familiar presence melted into the room, his shadow crossing the threshold and approaching the bed with a quiet urgency. The slight creak of the floorboards barely stirred you, but there was no mistaking the tension that came with him—the kind of heaviness that clung to his every movement, even when he was trying to be gentle.

You stirred, opening your eyes to the familiar sight of him standing there, tall and brooding. His gaze met yours in the faint light from the street, his expression dark, unreadable. For a moment, neither of you spoke. You didn’t need to.

Jason’s eyes flickered, and he crossed the room in a few swift steps, dropping his weight onto the mattress beside you. His shoulders, always tight with barely restrained tension, softened slightly as your body shifted closer to his. Without a word, he slid under the blankets, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you against him like he was holding on for dear life.

You could feel the tremor in his breath as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck. It wasn’t the first time he had sought refuge in your arms, but tonight there was something more—something rawer, more desperate than usual. His fingers dug into your hip, his touch heavier, more insistent than the nights before.

His body heat seeped into you as his lips brushed against your skin, barely a whisper. But even that faint touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting something deep inside you that had been lingering beneath the surface for far too long. The tension between you was always there, simmering just below the surface, waiting to spill over.

And tonight, it felt like that dam was about to break.

“Rough night?” you asked softly, though you already knew the answer. It was always a rough night for Jason.

His only response was a low hum, his breath ghosting over your neck as his hand moved from your waist to your back, tracing slow, deliberate patterns against your skin. His touch was both gentle and possessive, his fingers pressing into you like he was trying to memorize every inch of you.

He didn’t come to talk. He never did, not really. There was a comfort in the silence, in the way he could lose himself in you without having to explain. It was a fragile intimacy, one that both of you clung to in the quiet moments, where the outside world ceased to exist, if only for a few precious hours.

Without a word, you turned in his arms, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your palms. His heart pounded against your touch, a quiet reminder of everything he tried to bury beneath the surface. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his in the darkness, and the weight of unspoken things hung between you.

You pressed a hand to his cheek, your thumb brushing over the faint bruise beneath his eye. “You’re here,” you whispered, a statement more than a question.

Jason’s gaze softened for a brief moment, his hand covering yours as he leaned into your touch. “Yeah,” he rasped, his voice low and rough. “I’m here.”

It was the only reassurance you needed. For tonight, he was with you. For tonight, you could forget about the darkness waiting for him outside those walls.

But it was never enough. Not for Jason.

His lips found yours before you could say another word, the kiss urgent, almost frantic. There was nothing gentle about it—his mouth moved against yours with a raw intensity, like he was trying to pour everything he couldn’t say into that one act. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer, and you could feel the desperation in his touch, in the way his fingers dug into your skin as if he was afraid you might slip away from him.

You responded in kind, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him down to you. The kiss deepened, and Jason’s hands were everywhere—roaming over your body with a hunger that left you breathless. His touch was rough, unrestrained, and you could feel the heat radiating from him as his body pressed against yours.

You gasped against his mouth as his lips trailed down your jaw, leaving a trail of burning kisses in their wake. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin of your neck, eliciting a soft moan from you, and his hands slid up your thighs, gripping you firmly as if he was anchoring himself to you. Every touch, every kiss, felt like a lifeline—like he was grounding himself in the feel of your body beneath his.

"Jason," you breathed, your voice catching as his hand slid beneath your shirt, the rough pads of his fingers trailing over your bare skin. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, and your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

He groaned softly against your neck, his breath hot and heavy as his hand moved higher, his fingers brushing against the curve of your breast. The weight of his body against yours, the feel of his hands exploring every inch of you, made it hard to think, hard to breathe. All you could do was feel.

Jason’s lips returned to yours, his kiss demanding, possessive. His tongue parted your lips, sliding against yours with a kind of hunger that bordered on desperation. You could taste the salt of sweat on his skin, the faint metallic tang of blood, and something deeper—something that was purely Jason. It was intoxicating, overwhelming, and you found yourself arching against him, your hands roaming over the broad planes of his chest, feeling the muscle beneath his skin.

He pulled away just long enough to yank your shirt over your head, his breath ragged as he took you in, his gaze dark and burning with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. His hands moved to your hips, sliding down to your thighs as he pressed you into the mattress, his body hovering over yours. There was a fire in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before—something raw and untamed.

Without a word, Jason’s lips were on you again, trailing down your chest, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he kissed his way down your stomach. Your breath hitched, your fingers clutching the sheets as his mouth moved lower, the heat of his breath sending shockwaves through your body. Every kiss, every touch, was electric, and you felt yourself losing control, the tension building inside you until it was almost unbearable.

Jason’s hands slid beneath the waistband of your pants, and he tugged them down in one swift motion, his eyes dark and predatory as he looked up at you. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing. He wanted you, needed you, and you could feel it in every touch, every kiss. His mouth descended on you again, and you gasped, your body arching as his lips found your most sensitive spot.

The world outside ceased to exist. There was only Jason—his touch, his lips, the feel of him against you, inside you. The rest of the night passed in a blur of tangled sheets and whispered breaths, the two of you losing yourselves in each other over and over again.

And when it was over, when the darkness finally crept back in, Jason held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you as if he could keep the world at bay for just a little longer.

For tonight, he was yours.

But deep down, you both knew that the darkness was waiting. Waiting to pull him away, waiting to swallow him whole.

The silence after felt fragile, as if the peace between you could shatter with the slightest noise. Jason’s arm was draped over you, heavy and protective, as you lay together in the tangled mess of sheets and shared breath. His chest rose and fell steadily beneath your cheek, the rhythmic thud of his heartbeat a soothing reminder that, for now, he was still here—still yours, even if only for this fleeting moment.

You ran your fingers lightly over his chest, tracing the faint scars that marked his skin. Each one told a story—of battles fought, of dangers faced, of a man who carried the weight of too many ghosts on his shoulders. You wanted to ask him about them, to understand the parts of Jason that he kept buried deep within, but you knew better. He rarely spoke about the past, about the things that haunted him. Instead, he carried it with him like a second skin, something you could only glimpse in moments like this, when the walls between you were down.

He shifted slightly, his arm tightening around you as if sensing your thoughts. Jason’s lips brushed against your temple, a soft, almost absent-minded gesture that made your heart ache. There was a tenderness in the way he held you now, a stark contrast to the desperation that had consumed you both earlier.

“I wish I could stay like this,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, but the words hung heavy in the air.

You lifted your head, meeting his gaze. His eyes were half-lidded, dark and tired, but there was something else there too—something vulnerable that he rarely let anyone see. His fingers brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, lingering on your cheek as he studied you, as if trying to memorize every detail.

“You don’t have to go,” you whispered, though you knew that wasn’t true. Jason always had to go. The darkness outside was calling him, pulling him back into a world that you couldn’t follow.

He let out a soft, bitter laugh, his hand dropping back to your waist. “You know I can’t stay,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with regret. “I’m not built for this.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, wanting to argue, to tell him that he was wrong—that he deserved this, that he deserved peace, happiness. But the words wouldn’t come. Deep down, you knew he believed that leaving was the only way to protect you. Jason had spent so long living in the shadows, wrapped in violence and vengeance, that he couldn’t imagine a life without it.

You wanted to tell him you didn’t care about the danger, that you were willing to take the risk to be with him. But the truth was, Jason was a storm—wild, uncontrollable, and destined to burn out. And no matter how much you loved him, you couldn’t save him from that.

“Then stay for a little longer,” you whispered, your fingers brushing against his jaw as you leaned in to kiss him. It was soft, tender, a plea disguised as affection. “Just… for tonight.”

Jason closed his eyes, his brow furrowing slightly as he leaned into the kiss. His hand slid up your back, pulling you closer as he kissed you deeply, his lips moving against yours with a slowness that broke your heart. This wasn’t the same frantic passion that had consumed you earlier; this was something different—something that felt final, like a goodbye neither of you could bring yourselves to say.

“I don’t deserve you,” Jason whispered against your lips, his voice cracking ever so slightly.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hand resting on his cheek as your thumb traced the curve of his jaw. “That’s not for you to decide,” you said softly, trying to keep your voice steady even as your heart twisted painfully in your chest.

Jason’s eyes opened, and for a moment, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours. His breath was warm against your skin, his hands gentle as they cradled your face.

“I’m no good for you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t give you what you need.”

You shook your head, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. “You don’t have to,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I just need you.”

The truth of those words hung between you like a fragile thread, and for a moment, Jason didn’t move. He just held you, his breath shaky, his fingers trembling slightly against your skin. You could feel the war raging inside him, the push and pull between the man he wanted to be and the man he believed he was.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted quietly, his voice raw and vulnerable in a way you had never heard before. “I don’t know how to be with someone like you. Someone good.”

The sadness in his voice broke something inside you, and you reached up, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that was soft, slow, and full of all the things you couldn’t say. You kissed him like you could somehow pour all your love, all your hope, into him—like you could show him that he didn’t need to be perfect, that you didn’t care about the scars or the darkness that haunted him.

Jason kissed you back, but there was a hesitance in his touch, a lingering doubt that you couldn’t shake. His hands roamed your body with a tenderness that felt almost foreign, as if he was trying to be gentle with something he didn’t believe he deserved. And it only made your heart ache more.

“I don’t need you to be anything but yourself,” you whispered against his lips, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. “That’s all I want.”

For a long moment, Jason didn’t respond. He just held you, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath ragged and uneven. You could feel the conflict in him, the part of him that wanted to stay fighting against the part of him that believed he didn’t deserve this—that he didn’t deserve you.

But then, slowly, he nodded, his grip tightening around you as if he had finally made a decision. He kissed you again, deeper this time, and the tension between you seemed to melt away, replaced by a quiet sense of understanding.

The rest of the night passed in a haze of whispered words and shared touches. Jason’s hands were softer now, his movements more deliberate, as if he was trying to savor every moment with you. There was a quiet intensity to it, a sense that this was all he could offer you, and that he wanted to make it last.

And you let him.

For hours, the two of you existed in that quiet, intimate space, the world outside forgotten as Jason poured himself into you—body and soul. His kisses were slow, his hands gentle, and you could feel the weight of everything unsaid in the way he touched you, in the way he held you close as if you were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

But even as you lost yourselves in each other, you knew the dawn was coming. You knew that eventually, Jason would have to leave—that the world outside would come crashing back in, and the fragile peace between you would shatter.

But for now, for these fleeting moments, you were enough.

As the first light of morning began to filter through the curtains, Jason stirred beside you. His arm tightened around your waist, and he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin.

“I should go,” he murmured, though he made no move to leave.

You nodded, even though you wanted to beg him to stay. You both knew he couldn’t. But that didn’t make it any easier.

Jason pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. There was something different in his gaze now—something softer, more open. It wasn’t quite hope, but it was close.

“I’ll be back,” he said quietly, his voice steady despite the uncertainty that hung between you.

You smiled, a sad, knowing smile. “I’ll be here.”

He kissed you one last time—soft, lingering, and full of promises that neither of you could make. And then, with a reluctant sigh, he slipped out of bed, gathering his clothes in the quiet dawn.

You watched him go, your heart heavy with the knowledge that this wouldn’t last. Jason was a storm, and no matter how much you wanted to be his calm, you couldn’t stop him from being who he was. But you could hold onto these moments, these nights when he let you in, when the darkness was kept at bay for just a little while.

And as he disappeared into the early morning light, you pulled the blankets tighter around you, holding onto the warmth he had left behind.

Because for now, that was enough.

Taglist: @arisa191

[lambsouvlaki]

For the Hell of It - Date Night

Characters: Jason Todd x fem!oc

Rating and warnings: G, no warnings.

Word count: 1,237

Summary: Dating a vigilante is hard, but worth it. Early on their relationship, she has to face that.

Masterlist

--------

On an early autumn night they strolled across Robinson park. Actors in Elizabethan costume were prancing around the low concrete stage, doing some warm-up crowd work. Jason’s arm was slung over her shoulder, and her dog Marlow trotted happily alongside them. 

They weren’t great at the actual Dating aspect of dating just yet. It was still early days, and they had sidled into being together by following the same trajectory as their friendship, now with sex. They supported and trusted each other, they were both loyal and committed. They had already had two years to figure all that out. 

Romantic nights out had been planned, postponed, and cancelled. Andy had eaten alone at a restaurant booked for two, not to know until later that Jason was fighting Killer Croc in a cage match. The week after he was blowing up an exotic animal trafficking ring before the major players could flee to south america. 

He was apologetic and self recriminating. She could already see the barbed little seeds of ‘can this even work?’ trying to take root in his mind. 

But she wasn’t a quitter. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d been forced to stand her up. It wasn’t even in the first five, and she’d long since made her peace with it. It just felt more calamitous because now it was called a date. 

It wasn’t a big deal, she decided. If other people could make it work, the partners of firefighters, nurses, other on-call professionals, then Wonder Woman help her, she could too. 

Despite telling herself it wasn’t a big deal and she wasn’t worried, when Friday night swung around: bright, warm, and dry she let out an audible sigh of relief. 

The light was swiftly dying but the park was surprisingly busy. It was the last Shakespeare in the Park of the year, and there were food trucks and little battery-powered candles for sale. Families and couples of all ages milled about looking for good spots. A polite group of children came over and asked if they could pet their dog, to said dog’s eternal happiness. 

“I propose a strategy,” Andy said.

“Hit me.” 

“We split up to look for clues, and by clues I mean the best food trucks. That yellow one has empanadas, and we passed a flag before that said something about paella.”

He nodded seriously. “You take Marlow, I’ll take the backpack, and we’ll meet back here in ten.” 

They broke off like fighter jets zooming away, and roughly ten minutes later they returned with arms full of delicious smelling cardboard boxes. They set up their picnic blanket on the slope some distance from the stage where they had a good view of the whole area. They’d arrived at the perfect time, because the park was filling up. 

They sat on the ground and laid out the spoils of their hunt, just as the show was starting. 

The empanadas were sold out, but they had choripan instead, which Andy picked up for Jason. The paella was with shrimp and mussels, and was absolutely delicious, if a little small. Jason had found Korean fried chicken, and little skewered things called tteokkochi that neither were familiar with but were excited to try. 

It was a confused and messy dinner that they dove into with relish, and some negotiations over final bites. 

Getting the choripan was a strategic move on her part, because Jason was a sucker for anything in the neighbourhood of a hotdog. The fried chicken was the perfect counter, he knew her weaknesses. The tteokkochi turned out to be deep fried rice cakes slathered in sweet and tangy hot sauce, that had them both licking sticky fingers and promising to try them again some time. 

Up on stage a short performance of the play within a play from Midsummer Night’s Dream was finishing up. 

Next up, and the main show for the night, was an abridged version of Much ado Nothing. Jason scrunched up their food packages and lobbed it into the nearby trash can, and Andy got out the thermos of non-alcoholic mulled wine from the backpack for them to share. 

They relaxed together on the slope, leaning back on their hands, with Marlow sitting up next to them on look out. 

Jason glanced away for a moment. 

“Hey, can I borrow your scarf?” he asked. 

“Yeah, sure.” She handed it over without questioning the strange request. 

He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek then wrapped it around his neck so he could pull it up and hide his face.

“I’ll be right back.”

He snuck away through the crowd. 

The play continued, the actors hamming it up appropriately. The night had set in properly now, and large lights beamed down onto the stage leaving the rest of them in darkness. The audience around her laughed at the jokes and gags. 

She leaned against her dog. 

The night was getting cooler.  

Why did it hurt more now than it had when they were just friends?

She’d had no expectation of him then, she supposed. She hadn’t wanted him to be hers.

No. That wasn’t true, she had wanted him badly for some time, but squished it all deep down inside of her. Now it was out, with promises made and claims staked, it was hard to keep that once contained desire on a leash. 

He would give his life for her if the situation demanded it. She knew that, with the same confidence she knew tomorrow would follow today. 

But he would give his life for just about anyone if the situation demanded it. He was never going to change. She wouldn’t want him to.

She looked at the silhouettes of people in the dark around her, an elderly couple on camping chairs to her side, and ahead of her a family with two children who were fast asleep on a blanket. Not very long ago this park was so dangerous people rarely came here during the day. 

She looked at her things around her, and thought about what she would need to do if he didn’t come back tonight. She would take a taxi home and bring his stuff with her, hold onto it for him until he could come to her place to pick it up. It could be in two weeks, it could be tomorrow. 

This was going to be her life, forever. 

She pulled in deep breath and leaned her forehead on Marlow’s neck.

“Okay,” she said to herself. “Okay.” 

About twenty minutes after Jason left, Marlow looked up and to the side. She followed his sight line and she saw Jason returning through the crowd. He dropped something into the trash can with such a casual air it took a few moments for her to recognise it as a disassembled pistol. Nobody else noticed him at all.

He stretched out on the blanket behind her and gently pulled her back against him, his hands around her waist. He returned her scarf, wrapping it loosely around her neck. The knuckles of his right hand were grazed. He drew no attention to it, acting for all the world as though nothing had happened and nothing was ever going to happen. He definitely hadn’t just disarmed whatever dangerous hooligan had been planning to do something terrible. 

She loved this man so much it hurt.

“What’d I miss?” he said in her ear.

“Not much.” She leaned back against him. “But I’m starting to think this Benedick guy doesn’t actually dislike Beatrice after all.” 

He snorted a laugh. They settled in for the long haul.

Next>>

[more-cardigan-than-woman]

Could you do a Jason Toddx fem!!superhero!!x reader

Where they are in some sort of mission and they are in a abandoned lab and so the reader finds a weird chemical and doesn’t know what it is and it is sex pollen and you can go from there

Thanks

Took me a few days to get to. Wouldn't recommend working in a tourist destination during the school holidays. But, here we go.

Experimental.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY, sex pollen, chocking, ass play, rough, binding, spitting, breaking desks, Vigilante Reader (Fulcrum), shitty after-care, multiple Os, masks stay on.

1,500 Wds.

Vigilante!ReaderxTheRedHood

"Why are we here again?"

"Is this not your idea of a fun night out?"

"Red…" you stare at him through your mask.

"Ivy gave the building to the city for their affordable housing project. So we're just making sure all the dangerous shit is gone before construction starts next week."

"It literally looks like a makeshift lab. Isn't all this stuff dangerous?"

"Probably," he says, making his way past you and into the main area where all the tech seems to be.

"What are we doing with it?"

"Just unplug everything. Knowing them, they'll donate all this." he waves at the various machines. "to the university. We just gotta make sure no one's going to hurt themselves on a rose thorn or anything."

"Seems like busy work. I thought we'd be fighting crime."

"Yeah? We can fight if you want? Keep ya on your toes and all that." The Red Hood says, taking off his helmet. Your not surprised that there's another mask under the helmet, though you do wonder how that could possibly be comfortable. He ignores your shock, placing the helmet on the desk.

"Nah, your heart isn't in it." 

You're just about done wrapping cords and covering the machines in plastic when you spot something under one of the desks, "this drugs? Wanna get high?" You ask, picking up the swirling pink vial.

"What?" The Red hood turns, his eyes going wide as he sees what's in your hand, "Fulcrum be careful that's-" he rushes towards you as the vial slips between your gloves and plunges onto the ground smashing into a million pieces. The pink dust drifts up, disappearing into the air.

"What was that?" You stare down at your feet, the Red Hood's hand just inches from where the glass shattered, "I didn't get any on you, did I?"

"Shit. Shit, knew I shouldn't have taken the helmet off," he panics, standing up and taking your face in his hand, "did you breathe any of it in?"

"I don't know?"

"Fulcrum. Listen," his fingers are so soft on your cheek, and he's so tall. Shit, what is that smell? It's like fireworks and fresh buttery popcorn. You want to eat the smell from his skin.

"Wow, you know I never noticed how sharp your cheekbones were before."

"Fuck. You breathed it didn't you?"

"Maybe, I feel kinda… hot? Like every pulse of my blood is tingling down to my.." You unzip your uniform to try and get some air in your lungs, your hands moving to fan your face.

"To where?" he grabs you hands. His eyes travel down your body, observing how tightly the jumpsuit fits you, hugging every single curve and pushing your tits up out the top. The delicate taste of new books and fresh coffee lingering in his nose as he notices how long your eyelashes are, how they caress your delicate mask. He wonders what your eyes look like under there, if they're as pretty as the rest of you.

"Everywhere," you smirk, bringing yourself onto your tip toes so you can put your hands up and around his neck, "I ah-" you stare into the whites of his domino mask, "I don't know why I'm," you push your body closer to his, feeling the hard armor that lay between you, "i- please tell me to stop."

"I won't," His fingers grip at your face pulling your lips to hiss and the fire inside him burning all the way down to his cock as he grinds it into your stomach. The animal inside grows with every second. His hands a mind all its own as he palm at your ass, before picking you up. Your hands finding their way between your bodies to rip at his belt. 

"Fuck, please," You pant, finally managing to slip the buckle open and palm at his thickness between you. 

"Get this off," He moans into your neck, "quickly," his lips trace a line down your shoulder. "Takin too long, Fulcrum. I need you now," he growls, unzips you with a yank, your arms still caught in the material and he frees your pussy, "you always go commando in your suit?" He asks licking his way down your torso and pushing you back into an empty desk.

"Yes, feels better." You yelp as he flips you onto your tummy, your arms pinned behind you in the jumpsuit. "Please fuck me," his cock already seeping into your pussy.

"Fuuucck," he growls as he plunges into you, a tiny piece of relief from the burning inferno comes from your pulsing cunt surrounding him. His hands grip your hips as he thrusts like a wild dog, too lost in trying to find relief as you moan for him. 

"More, I need more,"

"Fuck, not right now,"

"Red, please, please, Red, please," you buck back into him. You hear a sucking sound before his thick thumb is thrust into your ass.

"Better?" His voice wild and full of lust, "fuck I can feel myself inside you." He starts to shake, "feels so fuckin good."

"Yes, so good." You grind back into him, your holes full, "fuck I'm getting…" you feel the light building inside as you pulse around his thick cock. Your hands grasping behind you to try and find some kind of purchase as you writhe underneath him.

"Fuck.." your convulsing pussy has him in a vice as he tries to pulls out, instead his cum floods. You and he feels a tiny bit of relief as he pulls out. "Get your arms out," he demands, stepping back.

"Why isn't it going away?" You plead, wondering just how much more of this you can take. 

"Because I'm not done," he growls, fisting his still hard cock. "turn around."

You're only onto your side when he pushes you back into the desk and his cock is stretching you out again. The old desk rattles and shakes with how hard he's fucking you. Your hands grip onto the collar of his jacket so hard, you just need him, need him like you need the air in your lungs.

Wrapping your legs around him you bring him in, your hand pulling him down until your mouths are as messy as your pussy. Desperate pleasure is the only thing on your mind as you chase the high. 

"Open your mouth," he squeezes at your cheeks, "good," his spit hangs from his tongue as it drips into your mouth, "dirty girl, swallow it," you gulp down his saliva, the wetness relieving some of the dryness in your throat.

"Close again, so fucking close, baby." He bites into your breast.

"Me too, me too fuck Red, I-" you lose your mind, letting go underneath him until your legs start to cramp around him.

"You still feel it?" He asks, his voice a little more normal now. He can feel it dimming even if he's still hard, just one more he thinks. Fuck, he wants to fuck you all night. Your pretty little cunt takes him so well. Those pretty, insane moans your making for him, he wants his heads clogged full of them forever.

"Yes," you mostly lie, "like a fire in my tummy that won't go out," but you can feel the effects of whatever that was wearing off. But you want him to stretch you out on him indefinitely. 

"Make room for me," he climbs up onto the desk with you, the wood creaking underneath. "Give me those legs."

"Jesus," you moan as you lift your legs over his shoulders, his huge cock plunges in deeper than before. His hand strong wraps around your throat, "can't breathe." You mouth at him, a dazed fog starts to fill your head, while you stare into the whites of his mask and cling to his arms.

"I know baby," he pants as he starts to slowly fuck into you. "I'm breathtaking." The desk creaks underneath you, the wood starting to rattle as he pounds into you.

"Red,"

"Fuckin perfect," he ignores you, the desk shifts again before the legs give way and with a splat your both fucking into the ruins of this old ass piece of furniture.

His fingers find their way into your ass, pumping into the tight hole in rhythm with his cock, "so fucking full," you moan as his tongue slides into your mouth. 

"Red," you moan into his mouth feeling the last of the dust wearing off and you just enjoy the feeling, your hands grip into his hair keeping his face close as you grind up and press your clit into his pelvis. "So fuckin good."

"So fucking tight," he growls, speeding up and biting down on your lip

This time when you cum, relief fills your blood and you can feel your thoughts float to the surface as you both come down from the high and are left a heaping, sweaty mess on the shards of the desk.

"Are you alright?" He asks, his hands drifting over where he was gripping your neck, "you don't have splinters or anything?"

"Yeah, I think I'm ok. Are you?"

"Better than ok. But I think we need to find some water." He kisses your cheek before standing and righting his pants. "Found a tap that works," he beams, rinsing out a beaker before filling it with water and bringing it over to where you're trying to get your jumpsuit back on.

"No one can know about that," you say as you stroke your fingers through his hair.

"Agreed, Nightwing would never let me live it down."

"But Red?"

"Yes, baby?"

"I would like to do it again."

"Ivy's pollen?"

"No," you smack into his armor, hurting your hand more than him.

"I think we could arrange that."

[dc-fanfic-sideblog]

Ok so

Uhhhhhhh batfam/DC character fic that I’ve had brewing in my head for awhile but never did anything about it until now

Fem!reader x various DC characters (romantic and/or platonic depending on the characters i include)

Also reader is a theatre kid in this, because you have no choice and you’ll read why anyways

⚠️beware lots of parentheses because I have ADHD and many extra thoughts⚠️

So, reader is majoring in costume design for theatre (wow self insert much) at Gotham University (not originally from Gotham because i think it’s funnier) and she wants to interview villains from Arkham, vigilantes, and heros for like a portfolio thing (I’m tired and making this up as i go shhhh)

And so she interviews the villains first because it would be more difficult to get their trust if they interviewed the heroes first

So, they get permission from the asylum somehow (probably by Bruce Wayne) and she gets to take notes and record their conversations but specifically creates a contact that the reader and whatever interviewee both sign that makes an agreement no information will be traded or bought from either parties

So reader starts with the villains, moves to the vigilantes, and finally the heroes because they will be the easiest to gain their trust

Probably traveling around to Metropolis and interviewing Superman and Wonder Woman

I definitely want to include the batfam and the justice league, Ghostmaker, maybe even Vigilante just because i think he’s funny (I KNOW he’s in Washington or whatever but he’ll find a way)

Damien Wayne is a kid, Jason is Red Hood, Tim is… happening and i don’t know about Duke but I’ll figure it out

So of course the word gets out about the fact that a college students is INTERVIEWING THE FUCKING VILLAINS IN ARKHAM, and reporter people are going absolutely bonkers

Bombarding reader on the way to the asylum and only leaving her alone when she gets to the gates with her special visitor ID, so maybe Batman might even make it a point to escort reader to ensure her safety

Now, at first, the Arkham patients are EXTREMELY suspicious over reader, questioning if she’s like an informant for the heroes. But after she gains their trust they actually start having fun answering her questions and telling her stories.

The villains are basically befriending reader and going “if anyone fucks with you, I’ve got people on the streets that can fuck THEM up”

So far I’ve only got ideas for the villain part, but I’ll get to the vigilantes and heroes later

The only thing I’m worried about is timelines and how much knowledge i actually have on the DC universe but I’m hyperfixating on it now so I’m just kinda doing it for the shits and giggles

DC fanboys scare me so stay away

Uhhh i have more little ideas for this but I’ll save that for another post because I don’t want to try and organize this