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imaginedcreaderinsert · 4 years

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Jason’s Room — Jason Todd x Reader (+ Dick Grayson)

SUMMARY: “Yeah?”You hear music; it’s loud, deafening probably, but you don’t have to worry about waking up your partner.Dick is out patrolling, and the bed is now cold. You try and warm yourself up in the duvet. Still doesn’t help, but there’s a rush that slowly burning up your body.No one talks, but you’ve seen the caller ID; enough to make you worry after checking the time, see if it was an emergency. But Jason seems to be frozen.“Jay, I saw it was you. Everything alright?”

WORD COUNT: 2140.

TW: Angsty, toxic relationship implied. Some cheating can be read, but is not acted on. Jason Todd is not portrayed as a good person on this one.

A/N: I have no excuse for writing this, other than really wanting to, which I think it’s a good step, seeing as I’ve abandoned writing for my own pleasure completely. So yeah, just have this.

LYRICS COMPLETELY TAKEN FROM “Marvin’s Room”, by Drake.

Bitches in my old phone

I should call one and go home

I've been in this club too long

He’s really so fucking drunk. He shouldn’t be allowed to go out on nights like that, but he still does.

(Maybe clinging to the idea that someone will call him up and say “hey, don’t go, I know you’re bad, let’s talk?”.

He’s stupid, really stupid. Stupid enough to-)

No, he’s already drinking up another shot, from that lined up column of alcohol in front of him. Jason’s pretty sure he’s at a new club, but he can’t say for sure: nothing is familiar and yet everything echoes in him for a reason: faces, blurred-out expressions of joy and a world going too fast around him; music beating too hard in his chest, making his heart almost leap out of it; laughter that he’s not sure that’s coming out of him really, even as he feels his smile growing, a charismatic and cocky attitude coming out of him.

He could have anyone he wanted; Jason knows he doesn’t have the suave attitude of the family, and yet “the bad boy” always attracts a certain crowd of girls he feels like he could go in for that night.

Jason knows he could, but doesn’t. His hand moves up and down this gorgeous girl at her side, a bronzed goddess, but his eyes move to check up his phone: no new messages or calls.

It’s obsessive really. It must have been the third time he’s done that since his last shot, but… It’s infuriating to know he’s not needed.

(He is; there’s always that stupid booty call, the fucking vigilante stuff he feels less and less like going in for – it now means something different, something that wrecks him up inside – or the casual reaching out he’s not really interested in deepening.

Just not by that one person he hasn’t heard anything from in the last weeks.

And you said you’d call by now (“in a week or so”), and yet--)

The woman that I would try

Is happy with a good guy

But I've been drinkin' so much

That I'ma call her anyway, and say

“Yeah?”

You hear music; it’s loud, deafening probably, but you don’t have to worry about waking up your partner.

Dick is out patrolling, and the bed is now cold. You try and warm yourself up in the duvet. Still doesn’t help, but there’s a rush that slowly burning up your body.

No one talks, but you’ve seen the caller ID; enough to make you worry after checking the time, see if it was an emergency... But Jason seems to be frozen.

“Jay, I saw it was you. Everything alright?”

“Fuck, I-Fuck, no, I’m-Agh, I’ave to get out of ‘ere… Excuse YOU!” He drags out the vocals; tone is sleazy, lazy, and you would recognize that anyone, of course.

“Are you drunk? Jason?”

You feel incredibly naked, even with your thick pajamas out; you’ve lived this out too many times, and you can almost see him climb your bed.

It’s been a long time since he’s done that, but it’s something you will always remember: the creaking of the wood, springs of the bed, rustling of sheets as he tossed sheets here and there all night.

(The stupid “I love you’s”, the lazy and very drunken make-outs, while groping each other).

“Jason, are you okay or not?”

I know you still think about the times we had

I say fuck that nigga that you think you found

And since you picked up, I know he's not around, oh oh

I'm just sayin' you could do better

Cause even if those VERY BLURRY nights that you can’t almost remember were nice, there were also the others; those which kind of made you hold onto Dick tighter in bed, at dawn when he sneaked in, cold skin, occasionally bruised. He felt so precious and delicate under the first rays of sun, as his dreams started to die under his eyelids, barely any movement in his body save the soft breathing out of his mouth. Too precious, and too yours.

You loved him entirely and completely. He made you feel so happy you wanted to cry at times; there was nothing lacking, not the sex, not the affection.

But Jason doesn’t think the same.

What about the rush, what about the times you’ve had?

“Why you pick up?” I know he’s not there, he implies, but doesn’t say. She knows too. “It’s late. Thought you were now reformed; no phone after 2AM or something like that, right?”

“Some of us have jobs. Unfortunately, I don’t have a fortune to fall back on”.

“Ouch.”

It’s very easy to just talk. They laugh, and she gets up on bed; Jason can picture her, duvet up to her chin, propping up her pillow (the best he’s had), to talk better, while still charging the phone. He hears the rustling on her side, meaning she’s staring at the side he used to sleep in. She always loved to sleep tucked into his chest.

“You still haven’t answered.”

“Right back at ya’. Are you okay?”

A really difficult question for a drunken and very honest man at 3AM in the morning.

If he was a better man, he would wish her a goodnight and hang up; no more talking, no more suggesting, no more playing with fire. If he was a better man, he probably wouldn’t be drunk-texting girls to “cheer him up” after this call, and he would just go home, sleep it off, and go at it again another night.

But he really is not, and it’s too late to go back now. That’s at least what he tells himself, what he tries to entitle himself into: he feels too much, he’s had it bad the last couple of weeks without you. So, he is owed that.

And that is his mistake, for no one is entitled to anything over anyone, no matter their own personal suffering.

“I guess.” Vague; but enough to let her get out, not dig in. Which is really a trap when he knows of your good nature, but he tells himself that it’s your choice (your fault!) for asking about it.

“That’s… Comforting, I guess. Friend calling at 3AM, probably lost and unaware of where he is right now, fucking drunk and in a completely safe neighborhood, I’m sure��”. There’s a sigh. He hates hearing you sigh; it’s always cause you’re so tired of him, he knows, he knows. And he hates himself for it, makes him feel so useless. “Just send me your location, I’ll guide you home.”

‘But aren’t you on Blüdhaven?’, he naïvely wants to ask, just to almost punch himself right after. She means the safe house or whatever place is near, that she might have still saved as her favorite or most usual locations at Gotham.

Tell me, have you heard that lately?

I'm just sayin' you could do better

And I'll start hatin' only if you make me

“So, why you pick up?”, he asks again, just enough sober. His stomach is in knots from the alcohol (and not waiting for your answer, just hearing your voice and talking to you). He’s on a taxi, and the yellow lights on him are making him sleepy. “I answered.”

It’s 4.38AM. Sending a cab there was easy enough once you had his location and Jason swore he wasn’t moving anymore. Bless technology, you think to yourself now a bit irritated for wanting to sleep and not being able to. Your lids are heavy, and the sheets too soft.

“Obviously cause’ I’m an idiot who forgot to silence their phone.” It’s a half-joke. If you had done just like Dick had suggested, you would not be having that conversation. You change sides in your bed, now looking outside, to the window; Jason’s sigh is audible. You almost feel a heavy and ghostly arm bracing you from behind. “If the info is correct, you should be arriving home soon. Wanna hang up?”

“I miss you.”

A beat.

Breath knocked out of your lungs and silence only interrupted by your dramatic mouth breathing. You literally forgot to breathe; that’s how being with Jason used to make you feel.

As exciting and exhilarating every night out or in with him was, it was not good for you. The nights that were good, but the bad ones, really made your feel like shit. And if someone loves you, they will never hurt you. You know, you so know, how bad he’s had it: but that’s not an excuse for his shitty behavior, his stupid harmful jokes or the way he made you feel.

“Jason, it’s been a long week, I know.”

“No, I know, I know-I’m not-I’m not trying to-“. A sigh. His sighs always broke you: too tired, too broken. Jason always had a way with words, but you managed to sometimes kill that off too. “I don’t want to start out anything. I just want to say sorry. I wanted to, but I know-fuck, I really KNOW-“

“Don’t scream, please.” Firm. Cold.

He’s losing you.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m an ass.” He laughs; it’s self-deprecating and you hate it, but you really don’t have the energy right now. “I…”. Nothing comes out. There’s a long silence. Inhale, exhale (“Jason, just breathe, please”): “I love you. Probably more than I would ever admit to do, and you mean so much to me, but I fucked up big time. And I know, I know-” He emphasizes, without elevating his tone. “-I know you’re so happy with him, fuck! It’s disgusting. It’s fucking bizarre to see you two together.” Poison that he spits, that’s eating him out; acid destroying everything inside, every little nerve of sanity still inside. “And yet, I can’t stop-I really think I don’t want to stop thinking on whatever we had, on the kiss we shared-“

“Jay, that was not-“

“No, I know. I know, but we shared it, and it brought me memories, and you closed off! Fuck, I had you to myself, we were-fuck.”

He curses out for a bit. You let him vent, sighing and putting your hand over your eyes, as if to stop everything from happening. No more 3AM calls.

Had it been pretty shitty of you to get with his “brother”? Maybe, but it wasn’t on purpose or with a malicious intent. It really had been pure coincidence that you had hit if off on one of the galas where Jason stood you up, with a considerable hangover and too sick to move anywhere. That, with the argument you had been having more and more often… Jason wasn’t sure you were even going to show up, but there they had met, and he regrets it every day.

(But sometimes…

Sometimes they look so perfect that he thinks they might just have been destined to happen, one way or another. If it was not in a gala, maybe a rescue, maybe a touch on the street, a crush, a rude Gothamite exchange of words as you clashed onto each other.

Whatever. It just happened and now you two were together.)

“Jason, I was never… “Only yours” to have.”

“On that we can agree. We never really settled, and I didn’t ever treat you nice.”

Not like she wanted; he knew. They were just… Casual friends who fucked every two weeks, who occasionally kissed and got jealous over the other receiving attention from the opposite sex (sometimes same sex). Despite what everyone else thinks, he is quickly to see others social intentions; her whispers on his skin, the brightness on her eyes whenever they would do it with such intimacy, the cuddling… No, he knew, of course he did, that she wanted more.

Jason just wasn’t ready for it. He might never be, but it’s not your fault; never was, never will. And he might just have lost forever the one thing he wanted.

But that’s the thing: everyone wants the chocolate scoop. But what they might need for a change is something they’ve never tried before.

“I don’t know what you’re babbling on about ice cream, Jay. I really…”. She’s tired, he knows. From him, from Dick and his waiting (she never really liked him going on rounds); from just having to bear with all the weight of the world on her naked and frail shoulders. “It’s not the time for this conversation. Can we… Talk another time?”

A beat.

Inhale, exhale.

“Yeah.”. Tired, so tired. Lids closing off,. “I’m here anyways, so I’ll hang up…”. Silence; insufferable silence. He closes his eyes for a second. “Have a goodnight.”

“You too, Jason.”

He’s not there, but he will be soon. He hopes for that, at least; everything will be easier.

#reader insert #Jason Todd #jason todd fanfiction #dcu x reader #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #dcu fanfic #jason todd fanfic #dick grayson implied

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imaginedcreaderinsert · 4 years

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UPDATE

So I'm not completely out. I'm currently writing part two of HEAL, which I know has been highly requested, but this idea has been plaguing me..

Needy Jason's first time after, you know, DYING. I like trauma theory a lot and I wonder how it must have felt for him to FEEL certain things after coming back to life. In a bodily sense, of course. I do like the idea of a touch-starved & easily stimulated Jason, so maybe I write something on it soon! Maybe Jason & Readers first time together OR Jasons first time (literally, since he came back alive he hasn't been with anyone else) with Reader, who might be a more experienced.

I do believe Jason can appear as (and is) impulsive because he's quick on his feet, good at reacting due to his excellent reflexes, but more than that cause it's NEW. This guy died and came back alive without a real or clear explanation to him (I'm referring to SB(?) punch or whatever) -- a lot of things MUST feel new, and I think he experiences some kind of dysphoria or sense of being out of his own body due to the traumatic nature of his death trying to coexist with the fact that HE IS INDEED alive. And well, I think some things still feel NEW to him, such as intimate touches, affection, someone caring...

And sex, of course.

Or maybe it's just all a rant and an excuse for me to write smut :)

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imaginedcreaderinsert · 4 years

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So uhm, i want to keep it short. Thank you so much for all the love and attention Ive been getting, I really appreciate it, but I have been in a very dark space for a while.

Unfortunately a very very close relative of mine's is, and has been suffering from actual COVID-19 for some time and I just can't concentrate on anything too much. It's hard and getting in front of a blank sheet without breaking down it's impossible.

I am trying to get through some pieces, write bit by bit, but I can't make any promises. I just hope that by June I have something to show you. I really am astonished by how many people are following this now and I would like to give back as soon as possible.

Please stay safe and take care of yourselves, specially with the current situation in USA!!!

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imaginedcreaderinsert · 4 years

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A lot of authors recommended ur page so here I am and I have no regrets!

ARE YOU KIDDING???? WHAT, WHO OMG IM SO DJCJRNVMSS IM SO GLAD YOU LOVE IT IM MUSHY I NEED ANSWERS!!!

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imaginedcreaderinsert · 4 years

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I just read your fic "Dumb Girl" and I'm like crying, omg SHE DESERVES BETTER

YES SHE DOES ANON. WE STAN ANONS WHO KNOWS WHAT'S TOXIC AND WHO KNOWS WHEN TO LEAVE

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imaginedcreaderinsert · 4 years

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We missed u🤗🥳

THANK YOU. THAT’S THE SWEETEST I’VE RECEIVED TODAY AND I FEEL LIKE CRYING. It’s been intense, y’all.

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imaginedcreaderinsert · 4 years

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Maybe for requests, Jason x reader with unrequited love. Jason being the one in love and the y/n never truly loving Jason the same way. Maybe an established friends with benefits relationship. Smutty angst ? Xxxxxxxx

SUMMARY: explained by the ask......... might or not might have added some cheating, WHOOPS.

WORD COUNT: 3685

TW: Angst and smut. Some cheating might have been implied. Read until the end! You can decide on which end you want first by commenting!

A/N: Tomorrow (today cuz here it’s 6:17 AM!), I’ll answer another ask I have pendant from some time ago, and I’LL START ON MY FIRST PART TWO, BABIES. I know that Heal, Cool Girl and others have attracted a lot of attention, but I think I’ll start on Heal, cuz I have it all planned. On Cool Girl I was planning on doing some endings: two with Jason (good and bad), two with Dick (good and bad) and one neutral but... Well, angsty. Tell me what you think!

People that asked to be tagged: @sarcasmismyfirstlove, @dora-the-grownup

I just want to be yours — Jason Todd x Reader (x Dick Grayson, implied)

You told yourself this would be the last time. Fucking this up this much shouldn’t be a thing, should not happen this often; people joke around the big mistake that is fucking with an ex, and the worst thing is that you actually joked about those things: as if you could ever do such a thing! How pathetic can someone be, right? The room is dark, and it takes you a bit to actually find your clothes; disorientated as you were when you first opened your eyes, this is a really big step. Your bra is somewhere near the bed, and your underwear between the covers. The rest you can maybe take here and there, as long as you find your pants. Jason won’t mind.

His wounds are slightly fresh, even when you had taken care this time with your nails; seeing how beat he had been, you had tried to take care, not leave more red marks behind this time. Looking back, drunk and high on adrenaline, letting him walk you to your door had not been the best option; but who knew Jason would get into a fight for you on that same night? People think of Jason as someone smaller than Dick, and that may be so in age, but in no means in weight or height. He is the biggest of all of the Wayne adoptees, and maybe the one with the worst self-control too. You used to like that when you were going out, but that was getting old, right? Still, he had taken you out of that bar in his bike and it all had felt so juvenile, like the first time he’d done something similar. He was irresistible when you two met, and it had been lust at first sight - you could swear on that. Now? All that was left were ashes of a very intense but mediocre romance at most in terms of deepness.

Sex was easy, no questions asked; the problem always was when Jason got clingy, a bit antsy and inquisitive. It made you flee. Thus, you get up as quietly as you can, drag your clothes out, take one of his shirts, and escape the house. If he finds you, you think you won’t be able to say “no”.

***

“I don’t-I don’t know”: You frown, holding your cellphone between your ear and shoulder. It’s getting hot, and you hate that, but your hands are a bit busy. Fuck you hate your job.

“I think you do, (Y/N)”

“Ugh, I hate it when you call me by my name, Richard.” You emphasize your voice in the last noun, making him chuckle because of your revenge. He hates his name too. “I’m just-look, you don’t want the details. We both wanted it, that’s it.”

“(Y/N)…”

“I know, I know! Shut up, I swear to God I planned on having some drinks and going back home. Just that. I actually like talking to him”

There’s a bit of a silence on the line, enough to make you know what he’s going to say. The thing he has been insinuating for the past months, of course.

“You know he hasn’t gone out with anyone, right? He didn’t go to your stupid set-ups with other girls.”

“Yeah, they’ve told me. How is that my fault?”

The tiredness in Dick’s sigh makes you feel guilty, because of course you know whose fault it is. How can he move on if you are constantly moving back in his life like that, being all unfair? And you know, you know, but you love talking to him and sometimes, just sometimes, things go back to how they were before it all got messy.

***

“But why?”

“I don’t know, just because I don’t.” You answer, exhausted with yourself. It feels like a trap at times talking to him, and you hate that. Jason is not being clingy, but he can’t quite make why you are so opposed to it. And he should.

“It’s just meeting the rest of the family, babe. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“You gave me a fucking drawer, Jason. It is a fucking big of a deal.”

He drops himself into the sofa, sighing, quite exhausted. You are too, lax in the comfortable armchair you’ve made almost yours throughout the time you’ve spent with him.

“Listen, that is because you are here almost everyday, (Y/N). I’m not going to ask you anything.”

That calms you down, somehow, but there’s hurt in his eyes. You can remember it clear as a day; it had been a couple months after you’d meet, started to fuck here and there — and he had given you a fucking drawer in his bedroom. Like you two were something.

The fact that you feel so anxious for meeting his family, knowing him a bit more, and having a drawer had not been good signs. Both of you had entered the relationship making very clear it was merely sexual, but now touches were becoming more usual, nuzzles and the occasional naps taken together…

He is falling in love with the little thing she does, like walking around the apartment in her cold bare feet and putting them up Jason’s lap any chance she has, just so that he can “warm them up”. He finds that adorable for some reason, instead of annoying. Or the way her hair looks like that of a superstar when she takes her scrunchie off, occasionally – her hair is amazing, almost as if styled, but its purely natural, unintentional. He is falling in love too with the way his hand perfectly fits her waist when he hoists her back to him, grabs her by the naked lateral area showing skin before sleeping, calming him up immediately. He loves how she just seems to roam around comfortable around him, enough to laugh out loud like that, be in silence, or fuck him all sweaty and without a care in the world. He loves it when she starts things, making him feel so wanted, so loved.

Jason has never felt wanted. Not much anyways. Dad fled and mom OD’d; Bruce Wayne (not Dad) had his touches, yes, but how could he win against golden boy, always perfect, always first in everything? Not to say the years he was dead, where he did nothing to avenge him, just mourn. He kind of just knew that things would have been different if it had been Dick, if it had been Tim – and Jason hated himself for thinking like that, but he couldn’t help it. People didn’t stick around him too long before leaving, and usually in bad terms. They left him behind, but then you came along, always soft, sweet, sarcastic – but never cruel. You fought to reach him, talk him out of certain bad thoughts, ruts where he didn’t feel like waking up and even confessing dark and unspoken secrets.

No one but the social services knew how you had been abandoned in a bus stop by your mom when you were three years old. How long you’ve stayed there, hoping no one would grab you, take you, kidnap you or worse things – you had cried but you had stay in your position, hoping she would come back and just make it all a bad joke. You never understood or fully assimilated the problem, thus becoming the broken shell you are with twenty-two years old, a victim of the broken foster care system – just what Jason would have become had Bruce Wayne not appeared. Not everyone has an angel watching their back.

You had expressed your tremendous trust issues, your desire to flee from happy things, good people: they made you feel broken, unwanted, less of a person, and worst of all small. You hated being small, being walked upon – there were people who when threatened, they made themselves smaller, bowed down their head in submission. But not you. Fear made you stronger, you knew how to take every blow and give it back with if not as much force, even more. Relationships made you feel caged, clingy, and Jason knew that when he had asked you stay the first night, uncomfortable as you had been the first minutes before falling sleep, maybe because you had stressed yourself enough or because you were truly tired and he had noticed.

He noticed the smaller things. Jason wanted to know that her small things were big and loud as shouts for him. He noticed, he knew.

***

She knew too.

“I see you, (Y/N) (L/N).” He tells you one night, cuddled up against him, laughter dying in your throat from the self-deprecating joke. You can’t even remember what it was about, but his eyes, his gorgeous eyes had made you feel bashful, almost timid.

And that scared you to death. You know what he means, what he sees – you, in your rawest form, your most humane and vulnerable sides. And he stays anyways.

“Well how could you not with your stupid frog-like eyes, dumbass?”. You retort before laughing, pushing him from your body almost too scared.

You have to fight, or otherwise you’ll lose. You knew that back then and you know that now. Falling in love with Jason is almost too easy, giving up into his eyes and his big cuddly arms, the loving monster that he is – and you mean that in a good way, always in a good way. You knew of his vulnerabilities as much as he knew about yours, and you had something deep, tainted by moments that made your stomach flutter, your cheeks blush at times.

There’s only one remedy against that.

***

Jason pushes you against your wall, making you gasp and the pictures behind you flutter, scaring you for a second – but then you forget, his incredible mouth on your neck making things, sucking skin, so deliciously that your thigs trap him deeper. His arms, holding you up by your ass against the wall, squeeze the flesh even with clothes between you. He groans, his bulge pressing against your hot core, mewls coming out of your mouth. It’s so easy to start, why hadn’t you done this before?

Oh, right, because sex fucks things up like love. It’s the second most dangerous thing after opening your heart to someone, and you know that this is it. He will take you, and after that, he will be done with you, like the rest of men in your life. You grab him harshly, taking him back from hair so that he can look at you, with your very serious and commanding eyes:

“Sofa, now.”

He takes you there, almost pushing you into it as he descends. You take off your blouse, bra – and like a dog, by instinct, he attacks your chest, hardened nipples to play with as you moan, trousers becoming more and more uncomfortable.

“Take it off, take it all off, Jay.” You beg, this time, helping him in the process before he starts taking clothes off your body, worshipping almost. That’s dangerous.

You thought Jason would be a selfish lover – he seemed like the type, himself coming first before the rest (no pun intended), but to your great surprise you get to cum two times before he finally lets himself in, with your very tired but pleasured permission. You are in love with his body, you can say that much, as his cock and his dominating presence is all you can see, your legs opened for him, about to enter your dripping entrance-

“Jay!”. You moan, nails going for his arms, the closest thing to you at the moment. He fucks you without abandon, mere lust and want behind, no love to be seen on a couch-fuck that will never be spoken of again.

You get on top of him and ride him, as he meets your thrusts halfway there. He gives and gives and gives, thinking he will get something in exchange, maybe you will say something stupid like the stupid things he wants to say as he gets to see your pleasured expression, blissed out face and moaning and whimpers – but there’s no “I love you’s”, no “I want to be more”, no “I kind of haven’t been thinking of you as just a friend for the last past months”. He has been often thinking about it these last weeks, but there isn’t that kind of realization as he finishes you.

But if that’s what you want for now, he will respect it. He will if it means holding you close to his body in your most vulnerable time, after coming down from an orgasm and grabbing her neck as she calms down. Jason takes her to bed after cleaning them up, and slowly, almost groggily, falls asleep, protecting her from the rest of the world. He just wishes he could have kept that night longer, eternal. Nothing is the same after that.

***

The first times after that are incredible sex-wise, but there’s no communication. There’s moans, dirty talking and kinky conversations that they hadn’t touch on before, but nothing deep, most definitely not loving. But slowly, they make their way into something else, in the precious pillow talk that becomes his favorite moment after making her cum again and again.

“No, no, that’s the thing! Everyone loves Picasso, but not a lot of people know what a misogynistic ass he was! There are far better alternatives than him, way too underrated and unknown from the same movement! And that goes for the little racist bitch that’s Lovecraft! He has his freaking cult and he was the worst person to exist on-“

She rambles, rants on about writers, painters, artists which she loves and hates, things she seems to want to share with him. He loves that, her passion, how intelligent she is, and how he looks at her, expectantly before he shares his own, which most often than not is with hers. She likes that. Sometimes they don’t coincide, but that’s okay too because she gets even more fired up, and they end up kissing, just to “make-up” even when there’s nothing to make up for. But he likes that, he adores it. He just wonders how long that precious period will last before problems arise, and he’s right in doing so. Jason is prepared at least.

***

“I just can’t say.”

“But why? It’s just-we’ve been through so much together, Jay! I’ve told you everything, and I thought you had done the same, how can you not then? Trust me with that?”

“That” happens to be his vigilante life, one he plans on keeping form her as long as they live. He’s seen people die, get attacked, be kidnapped – he won’t forgive himself if someone is to take you, especially with the Joker back in Gotham once more. To Jason, the more he loved and opened to you, the more you became a target, a weakness: his weakness. It was the eternal superhero’s dilemma, wasn’t it?

“No, fuck you! You knew how big my trust issues were, you knew how long it took me to open up! And then you just can’t take that big step for me? Are you serious, Todd? I really don’t know where we are headed, it’s just a mystery at this point! Sometimes you-you do that where you stare at me with-with love! And then there’s this comfortable silence, the kisses in-between! I’m not comfortable with the idea of taking things to the next step, but if it’s with you, I can make do! But not if we are going to be like this, if you are going to be this way”. Your finger accuses him, almost making a hole in his chest. It hurts, because more than anything she’s disappointed. Dealing with anger was easy – take the blow, the insults, let them steam off, and then hug. Nothing more. But with disappointment, he never knows what quite to do. And she’s a bit like that as well. “I need space. Don’t wait on for me.”

*** You still fuck for the months to come, but there are few kisses in between, just on the stupid days you let yourself be swept on by his charm, his hands that undo you more times that you can remember. It’s easy to concede a bit, be sweet for a time before retreating, hiding yourself – nothing has been the same since the fight, and Jason is desperately trying to gain the closeness he’s lost in the months that this has been going on.

There’s movie marathons, still you come to his apartment and he comes to yours late in the night – but whenever he comes from a vigilante mission, she kinda somehow knows because of the hours and thus, Jason always finds her asleep, giving him her back before getting into bed. He kisses her nape, the naked skin between neck and shoulder, and presses his head into her back as if saying “sorry”. It never works, because you never turn around, as wake as you are. It won’t make the cut, because he’s still not talking.

But then the unimaginable happens.

Jason discovers that (Y/N) and fucking Dick Grayson are keeping in contact.

Things spiral down from that point on.

***

You fall slowly in love with Dick. He has a girlfriend and insinuates so in one of your hangouts (they are no longer meetings, just friends chilling), but you couldn’t care less. Dick has something that Jason hasn’t quite show you: honesty, undoubted charm, and easy-going attitude. Nothing is intense, you never go home angry or disappointed, upset that he doesn’t trust you. Richard Grayson seems to, to your own surprise, hold you in great admiration. In between some things because you are Jason’s girlfriend – and the rest because of your personality, the charm he says you have.

“It’s like I never fully get to know you. Some days you say this, and then you say that – it’s fascinating.” You take it as a compliment, chuckling with slightly pink cheeks as you look at his eyes, dilated and flirty.

“Well, that keeps things interesting, doesn’t it? You’ll never get tired of me.”

Sometimes he gets nervous; others he fully blushes and other he flirts back; you are sure of that. And the comfort of his arms around you when you say goodbye is something you aren’t sure you can ignore for much longer. The meetings started as informative reports, if you are to define it in some way; the relationship with the Wayne’s was not at his best, but still Dick wanted to keep in contact, see how Jason was doing, seeing as he had no apparent job. Things started politely enough, brief talks before parting ways, until you started giving in more of your relationship problems (or whatever the hell Jason and you had, seeing as you are not officially going out) and Dick slowly started to voice things out.

And it all seems to go good enough so that Jason starts to get worried. Then he plainly follows you, stalks you, one of your days – he observes you eating out with someone else, which makes his instincts calm, but the moment they step out into the cold and the guy helps her with her coat, he can catch the profile of his face. And he launches himself before he can think about it through, going for his face and making his head bounce almost back from the window.

***

You shout his name and grab a hold of his arm as you take him back, try to take him apart from Dick Grayson, whose stomach he’s currently going for. No one else seems to want to step in, thus making your job more difficult. But you’ve seen it before, and he won’t stop – he doesn’t know how to stop when this kind of things happens, something gets triggered inside his head. He’s told you so many times that you can actually remember, and you can fully understand the feeling – he’s lost control. But still you grab his arm, try to push his chest back and make him look at you. When you make contact two times in a row, he stops, letting himself be slightly pushed back, stopped.

People are staring, and Dick is on the floor coughing; Jason’s knuckles are red and slightly bruised, and Grayson’s shirt is dark and dirty because of his boots. He hates that, losing control, you know – you grab him by the jaw before telling him sweet nothings, making him relax almost in your touch. He’s explosive, dangerous like that but you still stay. That amazes him.

***

He takes you desperately, like fucking his way into your body until you can’t remember anything anymore, you will get tired of him – when will it be, when will it be? He wishes he could stop thinking that as he makes his way inside your body, desperately bruises your lips with love, as if making you understand: I love you, he too timidly mouthes into her as her eyes close, on the ceiling out of pleasure. It’s a slow rut, but deep and pleasurable – you cum once and then he finishes off on your stomach, kisses in between, (Y/N) whispering sweet confirmations, phrases of pure love and desire:

“You can let go, you can cum. Cum on me, get me dirty too, baby. You are fine, you are safe, I need you. I need you, just you. Okay? Okay, Jay, baby. Just go, let go.”

He does. He kisses you. You kiss back, and soon after, turn to sleep.

Slowly, you are slipping away.

***

The inevitable happens: sex stops, and you stop talking. Sometimes you don’t ever get to see each other. What’s the point? You cut things off, and Jason just accepts. How had it been that easy? You cannot fully understand, but it’s something you definitively appreciate. Were you in the wrong perhaps? As Dick opens his mouth, apparently to greet you, you realize. It’s clear to you as the day:

“I have to tell you something.”

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader implied #reader insert #jason todd x reader #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd smut #jason todd dcu #jason todd angst

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imaginedcreaderinsert · 4 years

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R u still writing? Ur not active

I entered a spiral of procrastination and ESSAYS. Due to Covid, my essays were requested earlier aND JUST THIS MORNING 7AM I TURNED IN MY LAST ONE. But thanks for keeping tabs! I am planning on uploading something today and keeping up!!! I have a lot of things planned and I'm really happy to continue on writing! I really REALLY missed it.

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imaginedcreaderinsert · 4 years

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Could you do one and fifty nine with Jason

Summary: Jason and Reader visit the Wayne Manor for the first time for a friendly lunch. A pity he doesn’t plan on keeping it PG-13 for long. [As stated by the ask, prompsts one and fifty nine with Jason! “What? Does that feel good?” + Public with Jason]

Word Count: 2531

TW: Cussing and smut, as the prompt implied. Enjoy!

People that asked to be tagged: @sarcasmismyfirstlove, @dora-the-grownup

A/N: Angst coming in tonight! On may I’ll start a new rhythm, at least two pieces per week, but for now I can’t relax, I have uni work!!! I hope you enjoy, cuz I definitiely did.

In a twist — Jason Todd x Reader

Bruce was a reasonable man, and his points had been valid when he had sneaked up on you to have a “private talk”. You didn’t want to listen at first, given his relationship with Jason, but deep in your heart you knew it would do him well. Thus, a lunch didn’t seem like a big deal, until you had, of course, proposed so to Jason, which he had flipped about. He made his point clear and it took you some convincing, but you thought you had changed his mind after a long and torrid bath. In retrospective, you should have been sharper from the moment he had easily agreed after, as if someone had momentarily replaced him. But now there’s nothing you can do except press your knees harder.

You started to feel it in the car but thought nothing of it in the end. Twenty minutes ago, he had been going at it hard on your body back home, thus maybe you were still feeling the pleasure of the aftermath, sighing content into the kiss he left on your cheek. Sweet, innocent. He was being lenient, and you loved that. You loved him. After all, Jason wouldn’t be convinced by someone who was just a girlfriend; you were so much more than that, and he had made that clear lots of times in bed, when you both were alone on your own. He cared; he just didn’t want to show it to anyone who he just met. He was selective and picky about the people he put his trust on. You understood that and felt deeply honored because of it.

“I’m glad you agreed to it.”

“Well, your convincing gave me some thinking. I thought it would be fun.”

You kiss him, stupidly in love as you are when he looks at you like that. Jason Todd might be not as charming as certain people, but he has a certain something that makes him irresistible, so charming you would give in to anything he asks with that deep voice of his which he uses on missions. You always get so wet when he is commanding like that. The worst thing is he knows, which makes him cocky as hell. But you like him like that too, unfortunately. You smile into his second kiss as he car seems to stop at the entrance of the gates of Wayne Manor. It’s imposing, and TV does not make it justice; it’s in some way uncanny, as you’ve seen many reportages and interviews on the gates of the Manor, but no one’s been so close, has gotten past the doors. Not any mediocre Gothamite, at least. The Wayne Manor was quite famous because of its galas, but normal people like you didn’t have access to those. Not before you met Jason anyways.

Jason kept his surname, but you learnt quite quick he was, in civil records, Bruce’s son. Fortune did not attract you, as tempting as it might have been once; and you deeply admired how Jason had been trying to make it on his own. That’s kind of how you two met, and you wouldn’t have it any other way – people met at bars, but you got closer in a hostage situation where he had infiltrated the group as one of the day to day civilians who just had the bad luck of being stuck in said situation. It was no coincidence, and you helped him in his plan, being bold and a bit reckless, just like he was. People said opposites attracted each other, but that was not the case with you two. In some way, similarities tied you together. You understood things no one else seemed to, and you hugged him close the first night he decided to stay, as a friend. Then it all had been natural.

He helps you get out of the car, your knees slightly weak from the anxiety that is now suddenly spiking up and maybe from something else that you can’t quite pinpoint. But then the door is opening, and you are met by Alfred Pennyworth, one of the few figures apparently to Jason in the Manor. You greet each other, cordially; it’s weird, you think, being so close to the family and yet working for it, in theory. You don’t mind his inquisitive stare as Jason gets you in, taking you by your waist, hips together almost.

“I just want to say I completely understand if you want to break up with me after meeting my family.”

“I managed to survive our first night with your horrible snores. I think I can take it.” He chuckles, giving your waist a firm grip, as if suddenly validated in some way. What you two had was not a superficial or shallow thing. You trusted each other completely; he knew, or was starting to come into terms with, that if you hadn’t fled yet, there were not many possibilities of you doing so in the future.

Except of course, Dick fucking Grayson.

He comes down the stairs, casually almost, and marveling you. Jason notices how your eyes open up slightly, pupils dilatating – is it attraction? He was quite aware of Grayson’s charm, his natural charisma that seemed to outweigh his attractiveness, and that was quite difficult. He opens up his arms as he gets to the bottom and comes closer to Jason, of course, first. Jason can’t quite process what he’s saying, because his eyes are moving to Dick’s: and his pupils are dilated too as his eyes pose on (Y/N) for the very first time, fully. It’s like he drinks her in a gulp, and seems mesmerized, much to her embarrassment, which he covers up with a small chuckle, before offering up her hand.

“Uh, (Y/N) (L/N). A pleasure.”

“Pleasure’s mine”. He answers, naturally, a small “enchanting” (he would say flirty) quick wink before looking up Jason. “So this is it, huh? The one’s that’s been keeping you away from patrolling”

“He can make his own decisions.” She sharply answers before Jason can even open her mouth. That did not get in well with her, which Dick seems to realize – panic is all over his face, as Jason starts to laugh and shortly after is followed by her. “Shit, Jason was right, you really are a Labrador.”

There’s a second laugh and a scoff from two significantly younger “kids” as they go down the stairs. Dick chuckles, slightly embarrassed and shrugging. You recognize the smaller one, Damian, but you can’t quite make out the teenager one.

“That was a good one. Pleasure’s mine, (Y/N) (L/N). Tim Drake.” Direct, doesn’t beat around the bush. He might be your favorite one for now.

Presentations are made, and it’s only when Bruce himself appears that you start to feel it, taking air abruptly and gripping Jason’s arm tighter. A slight vibration on your crotch, soft and pleasuring enough to not be uncomfortable or unwelcomed. Perfect enough to build up something.

“Jason, what the fuck-“. You mumble almost in his ear, before walking up to Bruce, offering your hand first, letting him talk, and welcome you in officially. You feel Jason’s smirk even when you can’t full see it. It irks you. Fuck, he has plan.

You are guided in by Alfred to the dining area – classy, enormous, slightly warm because of the fire not very far from the table. Tim and Damian flock around you, asking you all type of various questions which seem to be “basic” ones – you try to keep concentrated even as Damian’s ones get harder and your mind flies somewhere else.

Bruce is presiding the table, at the top of it, and then at his right there’s Damian, and at his left Dick. You’re put up next to week, in front of Jason, Tim left at the other side of the table, contrary to Bruce. The sitting makes you nervous, even when you are close to possibly the smoothest talker in the house. When you sit down you expect to hear some noise, but it seems muffled by your thighs tightly pressed against each other and knees. You’ve been giving it some thought, and you are now quite sure that it’s in your underwear. It didn’t quite had been as light as always, and Jason had been quite insistent on your lingerie choice, bra and knickers matching. But he had always been fond of your underwear matching sets, so you had not thought much about it. “Fucking devil”.

“So, Gotham. Try to tell me about your life in a minute or so.”

You keep, or try to keep, all of your attention on him, looking directly at his direction and smiling, softly, when you notice Jason giving some curt answers to Bruce. That’s new. But when you think you have it all controlled, the vibrations go up a notch and you have to take in air harshly again. You explain it’s a cold, your breathing suffering at times because of it. Dick smiles sweetly, understandingly enough, and says he has an excellent home remedy he will pass you on lately. You thank him, turning to your first dish, a soup.

You fear you are going to leave a permanent mark on the Wayne Manor for the wrong reasons. It’s almost dessert time and you are slightly red, hiding as best as you can your pants with coughs and sneezes, but you are sure you’ve bended slightly the silver cutlery – the ministrations of your underwear are continuous now, pressing tightly against your crotch, and there’s an uncomfortable cold wet spot against your most sensitive part. You haven’t yet embarrassed yourself in a conversation with the Wayne’s, which seems an achievement by yourself, and you would dare say that Dick and you have the potential of harvesting a special friendship – of course, if Jealous Jason is not to get in between.

After lunch, Bruce says he’s going for a drink, some coffee, and invites Jason and you both to stay – but there’s no way you can go through it, and he seems to know as well as his hand trails around the curve of your ass, his hand almost trailing down to the hem of your dress and slowly getting his hand up-

“A pleasure, truly, we hope we can do this again! Bye everyone!”

That must have been incredibly rude, as you gripped Jason tightly enough and got him out of the Manor. You walked, still gripping his arm with more force than before and letting out the first pants in all evening.

“Are you fucking stupid in the head or-?”

“Hottest thing we’ve ever done. Don’t deny it. You know I hate it when you lie to yourself”.

For the ride back you are offered one of Bruce’s rides, someone else getting you home, but he seems as eager as you are, if the slight bulge in his pants is anything to go by… So Jason decide to steal one of Bruce’s car, a black modern one, which seems new if you are to guide yourself by the smell. You both laugh as teenagers as you get inside, quickly, and Jason rides away. Fucking God you want to ride him.

You don’t make it home. The Manor is near the outskirts of the city, meaning there’s no one generally on the road save the occasional interview and the crew following it. He is a private person, and no one has business with him if there hasn’t been a previous appointment made. Thus, horny and hot you both kind of decide to fuck in the middle of the woods.

“I don’t know if Bruce has cameras here or not but-“

“Shut up, we are not getting naked, so-“

“I love you so much”. He says, chuckling against your mouth as you get off your seat and climb onto the driver’s one, Jason’s lap, kissing him fiercely and passionately. There’s a certain desperation on it. “I wanted to know so badly how wet are you”

“Dripping. So take yours out and I’ll if it up enough.”

It’s quick, like teenagers fucking desperately in the middle of nowhere. Your hand goes into the glass of the window, trying to hold yourself up as his tip rubs on your entrance, slightly on your clit, making you press yourself tighter against him. He doesn’t play much as he gets in, your knees almost giving out and making you sit on his completely.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck”. You curse, against his ear, your thighs paralyzed by the feeling. Full, agonizingly full and wet.

“You are incredibly wet. You are going to get my pants ruined, baby.”

“Like you care”

“Like I care.” He laughs, conceding you the victory, as one of his fingers makes his way inside your dress to play with the little pearl inside, rubbing it teasingly and making your entire body boil.

“Slowly, baby. Or else I’ll come too quick.”

“Yeah, yeah”. He mutters, almost as if in trance as he continues playing, with a little more care.

It’s desperate. There’s a small buildup until you feel like nothing he will do will ever be good enough.

Then he starts ravishing you. His hands get on your back, almost as if trying to break your dress, the zipper; he grabs and slaps one of your buttocks, trying to leave a mark behind and succeeding in so with the thrusts he’s giving you which make you go wild. You mark him all over the naked skin you get – his neck, his shoulders; you open up his shirt and drag your nails in his chest as he gets deeper each time. Both of you have started to sweat, and you can feel it in your lips as he gets you closer and closer; he might be at its brink, you think, because he starts playing with your little pearl, giving it rubs and circles just as you’ve taught him multiple times. You beg him to stop, but he knows that’s not it – you always say no, but you mean yes, you’ve talked about boundaries, and he loves to open her up inside until she’s scratching and begging, too overwhelmed with his kisses and love ministrations. Because that’s what it is, what it has always been: making love.

Your orgasm hits you first, squeezing him impossibly so: he has to make his own way, with a little more of force, pushing you to the driving wheel almost, just so that he can give his finals pumps. He cums inside, filling you and making you screech, oversensitive. Your fingers search for his back, his neck, which always makes you feel safe and sound. He grabs you back, by your waist, his head on your chin, kissing your neck lovingly enough to make you melt.

“I hate your little games.”

“You love them. Next time, what about-“

“No!”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #reader insert #reader insert dcu #dcu x reader #dcu #dcu fanfic #DC Universe #jason todd dcu #jason todd smut #answered ask

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imaginedcreaderinsert · 4 years

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❤I want to request the reader is apart of the royal army on Tameran and while in a battle she falls from space and she meets the boys and Kori. Jason and the reader fall in love, ya know, but they dont admit it because they are both stubborn babies. Kori gets news that Tameran is getting into another battle and before she admits her feelings to Jason she leaves. Years later Kori and the reader return and feeling are shared between Jason and reader. Lots of angst/fluff (love your work btw😘)

Summary: Explained in the ask itself……… Thought I took a small liberty. ¡ENJOY!

Word Count: 3574

TW: Fluff and angst. In that order. I choked up a bit in A CERTAIN PART.

People that asked to be tagged: @sarcasmismyfirstlove, @dora-the-grownup

A/N: Sorry that I took so long to write this thingy. I loved writing it and I love asks, but my mind is not in the right place, and hasn’t been due to the situation these last days. I have a bit of uni work still on my back and that has been stopping me from writing, but your comments and asks always lift me up, I swear!!! You are all so precious. I hope your lockdown is going better than mine and that your loves ones and you are all safe and healthy.

A chance — Jason Todd x Reader

Some would say it’s a coincidence, but Tamaraneans don’t believe in these. Specially not at war, specially not in battle. Tamaran is at war, an ongoing civil war instigated by its own inhabitants against King Myand’r due to his own decision of enslaving her precious daughter, Koriand’r – Komand’r, Kori’s elder sister, is still leading the battle, wishing to take the throne. But they resist, they will hold long enough until they manage to arrange something. Koriand’r doesn’t have it too bad herself, she thinks to herself, sprawled on hot sun, next to a very very hot body. She slaps, jokingly, perhaps too harshly, Roy’s chest. It is slightly burnt, and that might be why he reacts the way he does, howling and feigning death. Kori doesn’t still get human humor, but she has time.

She’s experimented with humans, has had her fair share of friends and lovers – amongst which Dick Grayson, Jason’s older brother, still remains, they think. Truth is sometimes she can’t even remember the tone of his voice, his pitch or his laugh. Some would say it’s sad, but it’s just not useful. Tamaraneans can be emotional, but they are warriors at their core. It won’t change, no matter how much sun the humans insist on taking, or how much time they insist on spending to rest after eating before entering the sea. She couldn’t care less, truthfully, but she likes to play by the rules.

It never was (Y/N)’s forte, really. Maybe that’s why in her attempt of escaping, she changed routes to a place they never thought of following her into. After all, Earth was where the banished seemed to go. Who would think that such a prideful and honored warrior would end up there?

She crashes into it harshly, though; there’s no elegance in her movements, or her landing when she falls into the water, to apparently never surge ever again. Koriand’r feels it under her skin even before she sees her, which she is not able to due to the speed which she falls into: Roy is paralyzed, and so is Jason, who was holding two drinks before stopping dead on his tracks at seeing the scene in front of him. The redhead and him are the first to react. She is out of the water in less than five minutes.

***

She is beautiful and hot. Like, literally – she is burning as Jason checks her temperature for third time in a row. Kori instructed that no one should touch her as Tamaraneans possessed abilities tightly tied with the sun. It basically meant the more she received, the more chances there were that she would regain consciousness. It had been a while, but there was a feeling of restlessness in Jason’s chest since he had laid eyes on her. Maybe it was her deceiving beauty, softness (she was muscles and tough skin, there was no need of touching her to prove that up); or the waves of her still humid hair, her glistening lips. He knew it was lust, maybe more if not as much as he had felt when he had seen Kori for the first time. She was a unique beauty, with something different which had nothing to do with the physical: dreams died under her eyelids, restlessness in her fingers, which sometimes trembled. She had not muttered a thing, and yet Jason was entirely charmed by her. He didn’t quite believe in those things, but there was something that he would name as “aura” or “vibe” that he felt up from her. She oozed it, and Jason could not get his eyes off from her, which is maybe why he had offered to take Roy’s turn to watch her as well. Koriand’r was impressed to say the least, not expecting this from him at all. Maybe Roy. Not that they had anything serious going on, of course.

“Myan…”. She mumbles, for first time; her voice is soft, dry. Jason shouts Kori’s name and asks for water as he gets closer to the bed the moment he sees her try to get up on her own. “No, no-“

She almost evades his touch, wiggling out of it tiredly, but can’t, in the end. Jason admires her strength, her fluttering eyes that reveal a very intense color (typical of Tamareans, perphaps? Kori possess a similar one), and her furrowed brow, like a pouty kid which makes him laugh. She has to rest for some days, but in the third one, she is out of the bed and crouching on the sand.

It takes him by surprise, carrying a small and humble breakfast as he was, to actually see her out of bed in big clothes and kissing Roy. He can only deduce it has been sudden, since his friend’s hands are paralyzed, hovering over her waist like still seeing where to land. The kiss deepens and only then he grasps her waist, which immediately seems to stop the motion. She squirms, almost pushes him to the sand, taking both by surprise. Is she not used to people caring, touching, or is she just sensitive there? By her slight blush and her bright eyes he can deduce it’s the later as he gets closer and helps his friend get up, as lowkey moody as he feels. What the hell? There is an explanation that doesn’t come until Kori is present and puts them up to date. “A way of learning”, she explains, to which she giggles when he sees Roy’s reaction, confused and mouth gaping. By the way he looks at her when they are having dinner on the beach, he can see he feels something for her. Good for him. That’s great.

***

He should be having a nice time, relaxing and gaining back strength from the last missions they had been involved in in their little exotic heaven, but he doesn’t. It bothers him more than he would admit that Roy seems to enjoy way too much her attention, which she returns, in small quantities. That, to Jason’s own disgust, pleases him – he should not be happy for his friend being rejected, but in a way Jason has been caring more for her. He did not expect something out of gratitude, nothing of the sort, but he thought she would notice.

And well, she does in the end.

They start slowly, with small thanks for breakfast, wandering on the beach, sometimes reading in silence when the sun is down, and the sky is purple. It bathes her darkened skin and she is gorgeous, but more than that, is getting to know her. She is so curious, so inquisitive about the little things and full of life. At times she seems to be on edge, specially with loud sounds, but she slowly gets used to them; Jason, from what Kori has told them, supposes that’s what war does to people. She has scars on her back, her thighs; her skin is hardened, proud badges of honor that she shows off with the little and short clothes she shares with Kori. They both have similar physiques, if anything she is slightly smaller, but they both have curves where they are supposed to, and are full of sharp edges, toned muscles and lean figures. Anyone would envy them.

“… I know.”

“Well then start acting out like it. Your people need you, I need you.” She pleads. Jason has never heard her plead, not even when they had a water fight with Roy, which ended up with Kori up his shoulders and (Y/N) up Roy’s. “You have been out too long, and as much as I start to get Earth’s charm-“

“You understand? How so? Roy Harper? Jason Todd?”. Kori insinuates, making his own heart skip a beat, almost as if she knew he was listening, fruit on his hand, having stopped midtrack from paying (Y/N) a night visit, maybe after going for a walk in the beach.

“Koriand’r, we have been holding out for too long. We need you back, I need you back. If that’s not enough, then I don’t know what I’m doing here. I should return home, I have a duty.”

It feels like he’s going against time from that onwards. Roy and her seem to have “a night”, some hours out in the sand where they sit close to each other but without a touch between. Jason wonders what it is, as he observes them both from the balcony of their home, maybe trying to read lips – but they are in silence, content sighs leaving her mouth as they stare at the infinite ocean. They look further than they really are, and Jason cannot help but think they are wasting time. He is wasting time.

He decides to kidnap her. It’s childish, quick and exhilarating in a sense – stealing her from his friend as they get lost in the fauna, giggling and hand in hand running. She is quick on her feet and had gotten up with ability, used to it almost, before running after him, Jason leading until they were deep into the nature of the island. They’ve never explored that area before, and they have been stupid. Too stupid.

“There might be a hot source underneath this. It’s not dangerous, I promise”. He explains, slowly pulling her into the small lagoon they’ve encountered. It’s warm inside, not hot, but definitively a change from the water. She seems reluctant to enter. “Please? I… I heard you back there. With Kori.”

That takes her by surprise, and she slowly concedes. They both get into the small lagoon, cascade not too far from where they are – still they manage to hear each other without shouting. The water covers both of them more or less to their hips. It’s stupid how incredibly gorgeous she is. He can’t stop staring, and he shouldn’t be that obvious. Jason has had her fair share of lovers, women mostly, and even if he knows this kind of things can work with some, she is Tamarean. Is it rude to stare?

“What did you hear?”. She inquires, moving through the water, slowly the water rising as she gets deeper onto the water. She is grabbing Jason hand, taking him with her.

“I just know you plan on going soon. You have an on-going war and you want Kori going home with you. She explained her situation to us. The bare minimum”. She doesn’t look at him as he talks, which makes him nervous. He has never been nervous around women, but there’s something on (Y/N) that makes him squirm at times. “I think you should do what you feel like doing.”

“That’s very easy to say. But I’m not like that, I’m-“. She seems to falter, not be sure of what she wants to say. She frowns, almost annoyed at herself. “I’m bound by duty. Everyone is. I can’t fail them too.”

“I would like you to stay”. He simply says, bold as ever. This time she does look at him – and her eyes are bright, full of emotion as Jason pulls her closer to his body. “I want you to stay here. With us.”

>> And I know it’s too much to ask. I know you are bound by duty, and-I have had that. I was… Restricted, let’s say, by someone else a couple of years ago. Bound by my duty to a certain city, so I-I understand. I swear I do. But that did not make me happy, and I did not agree to how a certain someone handled things over. So I left, I met Roy, Kori, I joined a couple of groups and after I left again – and now, finally, I am happy. With you. You are – gorgeous in all senses. Don’t think just in the physical sense, please. Your inquisitive nature is fascinating to me, and the way you listen with your eyes when you look at me. You make me feel seen, heard and it has been really a long time since I’ve felt like that. I adore the scrunch of your nose when you don’t get something, and your playfulness. I see you too, (Y/N) – and the way you fight with us is dirty, is sassy. It says a lot about your character, and sincerely I love that. Your attitude, your morals, the way you are bound tom something else you firmly believe in, your freedom… I know it’s asking too much but stay. Please.

There’s silence, but her eyes are filled with sorrow. She lets go of his hand and has to physically hug herself, both arms across her chest, as if to not fall into pieces. She feels like that too – for the first time heard, listened by someone else and not because of her military expertise, but because of who she is. Jason Todd, the strange human known as “Red”, has deliberately tried to get to know her better, get her involved in human customs and shared a couple of things with her without expecting anything in return. He has cared for her in a way that few people have done.

“Jason-“. And he knows, once she turns around and looks at him, eyes full of hurt and angst. Jason hurries to her side, embracing her fully for first time and she sighs, almost desperately. She won’t cry, she tells herself, she commands to her own body as his warm body envelopes her in a way that no one has ever done. That hug is enough to break her in every little possible way.

The horror, the hurt she has been carrying, Jason Todd can make it go away, even for a brief time. There was a dark time where she thought of herself as nothing more than a machine, a war one with the ultimate purpose of resisting… Which by no means feels like living. It’s barely scratching the surface. Jason Todd makes her feel alive, like she has finally taken the desperate breath of hair her lungs were aching for. Jason gives her the hope that there is something more besides war, the horror and trauma that comes with it; makes her feel like there’s something to come “home” to.

But she won’t, she can’t. What if she breaks him? Tamaraneans love, when they do, for life. Losing their long-life partner can be fatal, and people can’t die because of heartbreak, but for their people, it weakens them, incredibly so. What if humans are the same? They are incredibly fragile in some aspects, and even if she knows that Jason Todd is an exception (from what he has let her know), she doesn’t want to think on what it would mean if she were to promise him something she won’t be able to accomplish.

“Don’t say anything”. He mumbles into her hair, maybe knowing her answer. She grips him harder and doesn’t let go.

***

She leaves the next morning. They have slept on her bed, have embrace each other tightly, still wet and cold – but there’s only warmth between their tangled bodies as he gets woken by her movements, as silent as he is sure she has tried to be.

(Y/N) is not wearing her typical outfits, but rather an armor – it’s like silver, shiny and very resistant. It covers her most essential and dangerous zones, while still giving her some flexibility. Jason thinks he has never seen female strength so well represented.

But this is not a show-off, not a runway try-out – Kori appears soon after, wearing a similar armor, slightly more jeweled, and signals her out. (Y/N), almost obediently, follows. But before leaving the room, leaving him behind, she grabs the frame, almost as if afraid to leave the room, her fingers slightly trembling. Is she scared? He hears her take a deep breath and go.

Jason takes exactly five seconds to decide before he jumps off his balcony. The height is not crazy, but enough to make Kori shriek, as she sees him first, which makes (Y/N) immediately turn around. She grabs him, as their bodies almost clash and clench to each other, desperately. They feel like the last two people on Earth.

“Please, try to come back.”

“I will. I will try, I promise”. She nods, glassy eyes and nodding fervently.

She commanded her body to not cry, but she has never been too good at following orders to start with.

***

The conflict takes five years. Neither of them are allowed to write, or return briefly home. Koriand’r acts as commander, and (Y/N) is her second. Every thought they have is fixed on war and coming home – to different ones, apparently.

In the five years they’ve fought, Jason Todd travels with Roy – he is still a mercenary, thank you very much, but becomes somewhat legal. They move here and there, and they never stay too long at any particular place – but they always have their holidays at the small island where they met her. They stay for a month in summer, longer than they’ve been at any place, just in the small hope she will come home someday, sometime. His anxiousness grows worse as years pass and doesn’t hear anything from either. Jason and Roy care deeply about Kori, but he can’t help but feel a bit empty without (Y/N). He hasn’t tried with anyone else, because no one else can catch his attention like she did. Maybe if he tried harder, he would, but he has no interest.

He is fine on his own too. He has been like that for a long time.

***

Kori appears first. Tired, fallen from the sky like a light bolt, it’s impossible to miss her. She cries when she embraces them both, perhaps too tired, too hurt from what she has seen and suffered from. They hug her tightly, but Jason quickly tries to ask about her, with her eyes. And she negates, sadly, before crying more into his shoulder.

“I tried, but I couldn’t. She said it was the only way, and I trusted her. But then she blew up the place and… I didn’t know she stayed behind. I’m-I’m so sorry.” Jason hugs her tightly, his chin on her shoulder. He has been shot to the heart, and he can’t stop the tears that fall from his eyes.

***

“Jason, dearest:

I don’t have much time – I never have, honestly. I wished I could have found a better time to write you. At the start of the conflict, so you could know I didn’t die in the first weeks, like many did. Or that I was still alive – hurt but breathing, as I have been in these last few days. Instead, I am forced to write you in my probably last minutes on the universe. My people are worth fighting and dying for, Jason. I hope you will in time forgive me. I wish we could have met under different circumstances, that we could have lived on that small and precious island forever, frozen in time and covered in annoying sand days and nights to no end. I wish I could have met you sooner, on another timeline or alternative universe where I was not forced to make this decision, but it isn’t possible. Not in this life. Not here. You made me feel seen, and you reminded me that this war if worth fighting over so that my people will live, like I did when I was with you.

Every day with you was worth living. I do not regret meeting you, just not being more sincere, honest. Love is probably too much of a strong word for us, but I’ve never felt like I do with you right now. I probably never will. I’m sorry I couldn’t try harder, but there was no other way. I love you, Jason Todd from Earth.

Always yours,

(Y/N).

***

Jason feels frozen in time. He can’t feel, he is not sad – he knows he is, that something is empty, but he can’t feel that. Everything is numb. He reads and rereads the letter Kori gave him on her behalf every now and then, and he thinks he can hear her voice as he goes through it again and again, but when he looks up she is never there, and he is utterly lost. Roy helps, but Kori’s presence becomes somewhat bitter – he doesn’t blame her, but her absence helps, doing whatever she may be doing with all the free time she has now.

There are days when he doesn’t have the power to get out of bed, but the lightning bolt that crosses Gotham, almost breaks the sky, makes him peak out of his sheets. There’s a commotion, shouts, and a violet sphere protecting something in the middle of the street. Roy is in, with his uniform, as Jason jumps out of bed. Could it-?

He almost jumps out of the window, getting out from his safe house as quick as he can. Roy catches him up, mid-air, and lands them perfectly, Jason immediately pushing his way through the crowd until he gets there.

Kori is protectively hovering a battered and unconscious figure, in the ground – she is clearly hurt and shows sign of starvation and torture. She would be unrecognizable if it weren’t for her eyes, which slowly blink up and adjusting to the change of scenery.

It’s her. It’s her and that’s all that matters.

They have a chance. One more chance.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #reader insert #dcu x reader #red hood x reader

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