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#Arkham jason todd x reader
in-som-niyah · 29 days
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ok another floating thought:
Jason Todd does not tolerate bad eating habits.
Iced coffee for breakfast? Absolutely not.
6pm and you had not a single sip of water? Forget it.
Having a single slice of toast for lunch AND dinner? Naur babes.
You will be eating 3 square meals a day will allowance for snacks and 'happy foods' as he likes to call them.
As soon as you complain about a headache, stomachache, light-headedness, fatigue he will tell you to go fucking eat something with a glass of water, not coffee.
Its even worse if you live together like i strongly believe he would wake up early just to make you a balanced breakfast before you go about your day.
GOD BUT IF UR IN UNI??? babe be ready bc he will break into your dorm to bring u food that he cooked u himself. (he's a loverboy duh)
no time to cook or order? He's gotchu
too tired? already on the way
exam season with barely any time to take a breath? already on it babe he'll spoonfeed you while you revise your textbook
and plus, how else are you supposed to grow as big and strong as him when you're only eating half a meal a day?
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I WANNA MUNCH ON HIS MOOSCLES SO BAD FUCKKKKK
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hanasnx · 4 months
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MINORS DNI 18+
Riding on the back of JASON TODD’s motorcycle gets you incredibly hot. Everything from the way he put your helmet on and gave it a pat-pat to make sure it was nice and snug and safe; how he coached you to lean with him when he made turns; how you sat on a vibrating vehicle with your cheek nuzzling the cold leather of his bike jacket and your arms wrapped securely around his thick torso; and during stop-lights he’d reach behind him to rub your thigh, checking on you, making sure you’re okay. You wore the little black dress he likes, the one that rides up a bit high on your thigh, but he told you he wants people to stare at the hot piece of ass on the back of his bike. Now he’s parked the cycle, got his jacket unzipped and his helmet under his arm, running a hand through the hair he hasn’t cut in too long. All you can think about is giving him the most offensive head of his life. “What are those fuck-me eyes for, baby?”
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stormy-skyzzzzzz · 24 days
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no but imagine Jason Todd with his big, strong, callused hands holding on to your hips for dear life while you ride him till dawn.
oh and he for sure whimpers.
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Jason: I need to get something of my chest
Y/N: Is it your shirt? Please say yes
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krashoutluv · 3 months
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Imagine Ak Jason that's been with his s/o for a long while and they're comfortable having sex and all and he makes them squirt. How's the man reacting? I gotta know!
I GOTCHU ANON I GOT YOUUUUUUUUUU🫡🫡
Ak!Jason Todd n’ Squirting ((NSFW, EXPLICIT/DETAILED))
reader has coochie but no gender terms used :p
unless doll is gendered to you
‘tis under the cut >:]
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TOTALLY AN EGO BOOSTER 4 HIM !!
He likes knowing he’s fucking you good and how good hes doing so🤤🤤
and he totally didn’t google “how to squirt” to get this to happen
IM LAUGHISNF SO HARD—
—LISTEN HE KNOWS THERES GOTTA BE SOME SCIENCE BEHIND IT.
he skimmed like the first page of articles (he read every fuckin link.) before clicking off bc he felt kinda cringe and acted like nothing happened
HE DEF GOT ALL THAT SHIT MEMORIZED THOUGH.
but he’s also smart enough to that majority of it is communication and it doesn’t mean hes doing bad if you cant squirt
but he really wanted to make you squirt. *picture cut to him grabbing his chest while curled up in a ball on the floor*
JASON’S body was pressed onto yours almost fully, grinding his dick into your pussy. The wet coarse noises of your twos hips pressing into each other, and the lewd noises leaving your mouth filled the room. One of his hands intertwined with your own, the other rubbing at your clit. He placed a pillow under your ass so he could push your cock at all the right places. His pelvis grinding into your pussy, dick angled at your g-spot cushioning out your steady moans. Jasons face was buried between your neck softly breathing as he used his whole body to rhythmically pace himself against you. Taking in all of you, your soft sticky skin pressed against his own, every inhale and exhale of your chest, the way your hips randomly bucked up as he pushed against you. Those moans. He closed his eyes, letting his body passionately feel you out, running orgasm after orgasm out of you. You’re breathing sharpened and you threw your head back. You start grinding your wet pussy into him, letting your other hand trail up to his hair softly kneading his black hair locs. He involuntarily let off a deep “mmh…” He sped up his movements, rutting his hips a bit faster then yours. Jason just barely pulled out and pushed in, his cock still at your g-spot before grinding back down on your wet cunt. Stuttering your breaths, you let out a soft”Fuck,,, fuck,,, fuck….” before being able to whine out how you wanted his hand, playing with your clit to move faster. He started rubbing fast circular motions across your cunt, obscene noises of your soaking cunt got louder. He started pumping his cock against your g-spot, letting go of your hand to prop your legs up for him before intertwining your fingers once more. He pulled his face from your neck to watch your cunt come undone, letting out heavy breaths along your chest. Your mind had started going foggy, only being able to feel his body against yours and the sticky sensation between your legs, you inhaled and before a sudden hit of tranquil hit your body. Exhaling, your hips relaxing as you felt the heat of a intense orgasm hit you. Jason watched as squirts of hot liquid sloppily bounced against his happy trail. He had no problem physically staying quiet but mentally he was holding on by a thread. Continuously fucking you through your pleasure, before slowing down and looking back up at your relaxed body.
“You got another one of those in you doll?” he said through hot breaths peering up at you with those big pretty blown out blue eyes.
oh yeah, that egos peaking tonight.
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This was fun writign hejshehhdhehee
COULDNT HELP MYSELF I KNOW HES GOOGLED IT BEFORE!! I KNOW ITTT!! *IM BEING DRAGGED OUT OF THE ROOM WHILE YELLING*
ILL DIE ON THIS HILL JASON WOULDNT BE DIRTY TALKER TILL LATER IN THE RELATIONSHIP!! (m gonna make a list of shit he’d say dw yall dw..)
he so proud of himself though
inbox is open if yall want more !!
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sideeve · 6 months
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arkham knight!jason who watched you for months before the cloudburst. you catch his attention as he tried to get familiar with Gotham after he left the asylum. maybe it was the way your hips swayed flawlessly as you walked or the way your breasts jiggled. whatever it was made him enamored.
arkham knight!jason who takes you in secretly. he feared that if scarecrow knew about you, you would become his test subject to his fear toxin. he keeps you in his bunker, bringing you the necessities.
you got comfortable with arkham knight!jason after a while. he even showed you the person under the mask when he was sure you weren’t a threat. on calm night, he’d strip down into nothing but his boxers, cuddling you as he stroked your hair whispering apologies for taking you.
arkham knight!jason was quick to fuck you through his mattress. your face was pushed into the pillow as his large hands held your hips up, helping him hit your spot at a better angle.
arkham knight!jason who fucked you so good you didn’t even think about leaving him. his cock hit your sensitive walls too beautifully for you to threaten him of escaping. his tongue was too skilled for you to even utter the words for leaving him. he made sure of it.
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taglist ;; @worldsgreatestsinner
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thesandsofelsweyr · 4 months
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Could you write fic based off of this img
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《 ALSO ON AO3 》
Comments & kudos on ao3 are much appreciated, as are reblogs here on Tumblr! ❤️
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The red hot branding iron was inches away from his other cheek when he woke with a choked gasp. His ragged breath was running away from him while his heart pounded like fists against his ribcage. His wide, pale blue eyes blinked frantically, adjusting to the darkness, trying desperately to latch onto something—anything—that didn’t belong in his dank, dark prison cell. A bed, he told himself. His chest rose and fell as if he was running a marathon. He swallowed hard. I’m in a bed. The only bed he’d known in Arkham was the cold, hard, filthy wood floor of his cage. But he could still feel the intense heat radiating off the cruel metal onto his tender, unbranded cheek; the Clown’s maniacal cackle still echoed in his ear. He clawed at his pillow, pulling it over his head as if he could hide from his master, as if he could drown out the grating laugh that would haunt him even after he was rotting away in his grave.
“He’s dead,” he panted as his body shook like a leaf in a hurricane, “he’s dead, he’s dead, I’m free,” he repeated, but icy terror still clutched at his throat as his mind refused to believe the words. The walls of the dark room seemed to close around him, swallowing him back down into the bowels of Arkham Asylum, where his master was waiting to punish him again. He choked back a scream. Tears burned at the corners of his eyes, which he screwed shut. “Not again,” he whimpered helplessly. “Please don’t do it again.”
His muscles were as taut as a grappling cable. Cold sweat drenched his entire body. He pulled shuddering knees to his chest, curling into the fetal position, as if he could protect himself from the crowbar in the Clown's lavender-gloved hands. 
A pair of ungloved hands slid beneath the crooks of his arms, and he squealed in terrifying despair.
“Shh,” a voice whispered, as soft as satin, as gentle as a breeze. Then the warmth of an embrace enveloped him, dragging him out of hell.
“I-I’m sorry…” he stammered, sniffling. Warm tears trickled down his cheeks, which flamed red with embarrassment. “I-I didn’t mean to wake you…”
She squeezed him even tighter, curling herself around him, wrapping him up in a cocoon of protection. Her heart beat steadily against his mutilated back, and he grounded himself with the comforting sensation; the reminder that he was needed, that he was loved. 
“It’s okay, baby,” she murmured sleepily. “You’re safe. I’m here…” She placed a tender kiss against his trembling shoulder, and his body relaxed in her arms. “I got you.”
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stararch4ngelqueen · 6 months
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Innocent Possession
Time Written - 11:52 p.m.
Arkham Knight/fem!reader smut
Tags: Smut, possessive, breeding/innocence kink. Jason might be a meanie. (Not Proofread. Have to work on a Saturday AND I BROKE MY NAIL 🫠)
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This man is such a slut it’s not even funny anymore. LOOK AT THAT.👇 THIS WAS INSPIRED BY THAT 👆
His lush, heavy breathing fans along your exposed, maroon muddled neck. Sharp teeth dimpling your skin in harsh punctures, not enough to draw blood quite yet.
Hands that once cradled your neck like porcelain art in the distance of the past, now grasped your throat like a damn vice, pairing with his grip on your shoulder to force you back against him with each deep, aching thrust.
One of the major accomplishments of his new identity, his new life, was to find the innocence of his past. The highlight of his life for many years was brought to him, bound and gagged as Gotham was in the midst of evacuation. Your clothes were torn and rustled from aggressive attempts to subdue you, enough to leave bruises along your supple, upper arms as you thrashed and screamed.
Now those bastards of men lay dead outside the hall. Scattered corpses slumped along the floors, dreadfully bland decor that meant nothing to the Knight that holstered his gun after his short pursuit.
Your first greeting from the armored man was terrifyingly quiet, towering over you like a beast after approaching where you cowered.
His hands grasp hold of his helmet before you could beg for your life, only trying to make it towards the Evac buses before you were hauled off by those bastards. All words died on your tongue when steel cut blue eyes meet yours, brows faintly furrowed, his jaw taunt with incredibly strong tension.
You’re his ex, but not by choice. None of this was by choice. He vanished for a year, only to be presumed dead the next.
You never hated him enough to put that label on him. Any attempt to begin your list of a million questions abruptly halts before it even began, as his lips instantly assault yours.
“That’s a good girl. My fucked out little whore.” He grunts, squeezing your hips closer to his pelvis, bullying his fat cock deeper into your tight walls.
The ropes that kept you bound now uselessly dangled from your wrists like cheap bracelets, the skin of your knuckles lightening as you helplessly plant them along the wall. Skin grew sticky with milky cum in between both your bodies, loud and wet, seeping down in between your bare thighs.
Watching and feeling your juices dampen the front of his red tactical pants was a punishment in itself, one he was feeling kind enough to save for later.
Maybe fucking your mouth would make for good punishment, listening to you choke as he grinds against your face, a pool of your combined mess seeping along your dirty knees on the ground.
“You better hope I never learn if any other guy fucked what’s mine, Princess,” He huffs against your kiss bruised lips, barely taking breaks to let you breathe. “Woulda’ rather had you cryin’ on fuckin’ toys than another man.”
Your whimper sounded like a cry, making Jason believe he could do so here right now, in this dingy room, underneath a dusty headlight. He hovers more over your back, tilting your head just enough to crash his lips against yours.
Feverishly responding to such a heavy, messy kiss, you moan fully against his rough, scar lined lips, amplifying when his tongue promptly invades. He licks with feverish hunger as a hand slips under your waist, huffing at your jolt at the sudden, angry assault on your nub, forcing your walls to deliciously clench towards a third orgasm.
The sounds he could pull from his sweet girl never ceases to amaze him. Even before his death, you were nothing but kind, the epitome of polite and heartwarming sweetness. What the hell were you thinking, choosing to date a guy like him?
Doesn’t matter if he died. No man is ever gonna take what’s been his for a very, very long time.
You won’t have to tell him now, but he’ll know. He has the capability to learn all your deepest secrets, knowing he could drag them out of you so easily.
“You miss me, pretty girl?” His hot rasp rumbles richly along the shell of your ear, sparking an uproar of your over sensitive nerves.
“You miss cryin’ on my dick, Princess? Missed how good it made you feel, how perfect you’d behave just to get bred? Tell me,” he grunts after relinquishing from the kiss. “Tell me you did. Say it loud, tell me you missed me.”
“I did-“ You spew out from quivering lips, ripples of tears trailing down your cheeks.
“I did, Jay. M-Missed you so much—“
Your voice draws out an empty whine towards your last word, hearing the collision of hot skin get louder as he gets harsher, brutal, eagerly desperate to make up for all the time he’s lost.
His sweet, innocent girl resorted to a jittery, babbling fleshlight. You could say anything he wanted, his guarded ego crumbling from the truth laced in your words.
You missed him, grieved for him, loved him. Yet, all he saw you as right now is his babbling whore, his whining little baby who never got used to the size of him driving deep into your cunt.
Honestly, he hopes you never will.
Your front further gets pressed flat against the wall, hot skin shivering from the harshness of the cold surface. Thick, precisely detailed armor digs deep into your back when he leans over you, keeping his persistent grip along your jaw, keeping you suspended just enough to breathe when he fucks you.
“S’been hell without ya, sweetheart,” He lowers his tone, whispering with a kiss of taunt as he rocks himself against your plush ass, keeping you cock drunk per his amusement.
“My baby wanna prove how much she missed me?” He cooes along your ear, smirking sadistically to your complete unawareness. “My baby wanna have a baby? She wanna have her pussy filled to prove she always loved me?”
You whine out ‘yes’ over and over, your back arching heavily from his relentless pace. The more space you involuntarily create, the closer Jason leans into you, the harder the plating digs into your back. The harsher the head of his cock endlessly strikes your cervix, making you just about lose it.
A series of curses spewed from your lips, resulting in three thick fingers shoved into your mouth, tasting yourself prior when he assaulted your soaked core.
“Language, babygirl,” Jason sneers against your cheek, despising the foul words that left those pretty lips. “Don’t badmouth me like a cheap whore. You’re my good girl. Fucking act like it.”
His other hand promptly pressed against your abdomen, forcing your lower half closer towards his waist. With his overwhelming free reign on your body, Jason bullies your sore, abused pussy with a series of sharp slaps, your clit stinging from repeated impacts.
You jolt out, sobbing out a series of apologies laced in short begs in the midst of various squeals.
In another life, he was your gentle giant. Now, he was a monster lusting after much more than blood. Jason was a simple man; wanting nothing more than the death of his mentor, and his ex’s warm cunt until he’s fully satisfied.
You whine out something that sounded like a mix between a cry and a moan. He clicks his tongue, tilting your head back just a little more while halting his hand, catching sight of those teary, bubbly eyes and quivering lip.
“Speak up, baby.”
“I-I’m sorry!” You hiccup, your nails scraping along the wall from overstimulation.
“I’m sorry Ja-Jason, please—“
You stumble over words. A pure miracle over how flustered you were to say your desire after being his sex doll.
“Please what?” He demands, losing what patience he never had.
“A baby,” you whine out, purposely leaning into his palm, fluttering your teary lashes. “Give me your baby, Jason. I want it. Please.”
His brows raise in surprise, slowly rocking his hips whilst holding back a grunt. Yes, he said it, desiring it, but hearing you beg for this. To ruin your beautiful body with his tainted seed.
“M’Not gonna stop, y’know. Even when it takes.” His voice dribbled with lustful possession while his hips stutter back into an uproar, nibbling along your lobe with sharp teeth. “That what you want? You ready for that?”
You moan out an easy agreement with more eagerness than before, allowing your body to relax against his chest.
“Y’hear me, Princess?” Jason braced a hand along the wall, clutching hold of your hand in his grasp, keeping your fingers safe in his fist. “I’m gonna make you a mama by the end of tonight.”
The Bats can wait, for now. Once he’s dead, once he’s been dealt with, then he’ll have much more opportunity to celebrate.
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igotanidea · 11 days
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Somebody's watching me : AK!Jason x reader
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Request: AK! jason hears y/n’s name from his opponent and just goes nuts like he goes home looking for her.
A/N : the requests is a little twisted, as usual, but I hope you'll still like it anon :D
***
It was gone.
His old life was gone.
And with it, everyone he knew before.
All that was left was revenge, hate, rage. And this unstoppable need for killing someone, destroy something, wreck havoc on every single person who did him any wrong.
Bruce.
Fucking Batman.
He was the Arkham Knight now.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Focused on building his position so that no one, no fucking one, would ever hold any power over him.
And if that meant keeping tabs on everyone under his watchful gaze so be it.
And if that meant putting some pressure on everyone who dared to do as much as step a toe over the line, so be it.
And disturbances?
Defnitely not something he was about to allow.
And now he was holding a gun to one of his goons head.
"What did you do?" he hissed, his voice distorted by the helmet
"Sir, I --"
"What did you do?" Jason repeated pressing the metal more into man's head.
"I-- I disobeyed--"
"You disobeyed. And do you know what happens to people who disobey me?"
"Sir, please this is--"
Jason shot in the air and the man almost fell to his feet.
"It was-"
"I'm not going to give a warning shot again"
"I was-"
"I'm gonna count to three now. One."
"There's this girl."
"Two."
"Her name is Y/N."
"thr-- what?"
"She is very distant family, but --"
"Shut up!" Jason yelled, his face twisted with rage, not that anyone could see his expression hidden under the metal. "Shut the fuck up you hear me!" it took him two steps to be in front of the man, yanking him up by the collar and pinning to the wall with brutal force, half-chocking him "you ever do as much as think her name again and I'll kill you and put your head on a stick as a warning to anyone who dare have a thought of himself. YOU HEAR ME!?"
"y-ye-yes..."
"now get the fuck out of here!" the man was violently thrown on the floor, getting up as fast as he could and rushing out the door. It was truly a miracle he lived to tell the tale, cause Arkham Knight was not known for his leniency.
But Y/N.
Someone from his past.
More than someone.
A girl, a woman, he was once in love with.
A woman, whose name he forgot in the pursuit after Batman.
Or rather - tried to forget.
She was the only one who ever got him. The only one to accept him fully, with all his flaws.
His Y/N.
His Y/N who betrayed him just like anyone else. Who forgot him. Who moved on without giving as much as a single thought to him when he was lost. Who was never looking for him.
His Y/N.
It;s been years since he heard anyone mention her. Years since he swore to never get manipulated again.
And then.
Just a few letters mixed together. Just a few sounds.
And she was right behind his eyes, just like he remembered her. Because even his dark side refused to let go of the rememberance of their time together.
Her laugh. Her smile. Her eyes and freckles from the sun, as fleeting as the summer days they were spending together. Her calmness, care and tenderness when she was patching up his woudns, tiredlessly putting on bandaids and stitches.
Fuck!
He didn't need that.
Just another phase of brainwashing. If not from his capturers than from his own men.
Hell no.
He was going to say no to the past life once and for all.
Hunting her down, wherever she may be.
See her for the last time.
Pour hatred in his heart, destroying all the remaining piece of useless softness and caring he carried in his soul.
Burn the last link connecting him to the past down.
***
She was spending the night in her old apartment. Sitting by the same desk, with the same lamp, in the same posture she ever did.
One leg half bent and folded under her ass, the other hanging loose in the air.
"You're going to end up with numbness..." he muttered to himself, watching her from the opposite rooftop.
Obviously she couldn;t hear him, but something made her raise her head and look outside the window while simultaniously changing the position.
Jason smiled despite himself.
His heart skipped a beat and sudden warmth spread in his chest.
Only for a second though, since he rememembered why he was here in the first place.
Look at her.
So fucking good.
So fucking calm and happy, while he-
fuck!
traitorous bitch.
Maybe it was her plan from the very beggining. Conspiring with Batman only to get rid of him, so they could both be free of the burdening presence of a man once known as Jason Todd.
Y/N...
Regardless of how sweet her name may have tasted on his tongue he would rather cut it off than fall down that rabit hole again.
He was cold as ice. Brutal. Cruel. Ruthless.
And it was not going to change because he saw her.
Not in the million years.
She was the reason of his fallout. She should have stopped him from going on that stupid mission. She should have made him stay, showed him she cared enough to keep him grounded.
It was all her fault that that after being captured all he could think about was how she was going to survive without him. How her heart would break into million pieces, instead of figuring out a way to free himself.
It was all her fault that he became the Arkham Knight. Cause inhumanity was equal with survival. And survival meant living. And living meant keeping his legacy.
So yes, he hated her.
He hated her, because every single thing he did and every little thing done to him was because and thanks to her.
She was the reason of him getting on top, but also the person responsible for his failure as a person.
She was nothing.
She was everything.
And for the first time since capturing, torturing and tranformation Jason felt conflicted.
Y/N...
His Y/N...
Not his anymore...
***
When some force made her stand up and come to window all she saw was a blink of metal on the rooftop. And since she spend half of her life with vigilantes, it was easy to realise that this must have been one of them.
But the silhouette of a running man couldn;t have been Dick nor Tim nor any other hero she would recognise.
And despite herself, she felt a shiver running down her spine.
Someone was watching her.
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in-som-niyah · 29 days
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Jason Todd has abs you could grate cheese on.
no i will not elaborate
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hanasnx · 1 month
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MINORS DNI 18+
Every eight months or so you see BABY DADDY!JASON TODD who turns up when it's most convenient. Having a grip on the criminal underworld means he's on top of it full-time, not to mention whatever's closest to him gets torched as soon as an enemy gets a whiff of it. Just his presence puts you and the daughter you have with him in danger, which he acts like it's no big deal.
"Can't I just see her?" his pleading tone is enough for your demeanor to crack. You were never very good at saying no to him, but ever since you and him broke it off you've been gradually pushing him out of your life. For everyone's sake. "She's my daughter, too. You can't keep her from me." Playing a card that gets more and more difficult to refuse.
It’s enough to cave like you always do. Slowly he creeps his way back into your life, and in his eyes it’s regaining his rightful place in your bed. Hanging around turns into catching up turns into putting your daughter to sleep turns into crashing at your place. "Got a long way back. Just this once." he'd said, and you fell for it.
Now he's got you folded in half, mounting you from the back with big hands keeping you pinned. He groans, a low rumble that sends shivers up your spine as you feel his tip nudging your hole, seeking out the give. The sheer weight of him pushes you into the mattress, sinking as he arches your spine painfully. Such a big guy prepping your back to break and you wouldn't have it any other way.
"Jay, put it in." you quiet plea is met with his gentle shush.
"Don't wanna wake anybody up." he sings tauntingly, and you clutch onto the sheets tighter. His swollen head prods in, and the sting of the stretch elicits your sharp inhale. "Fuck, baby, almost forgot how good you feel. Never feel like this with anyone else."
Angrily, your fist bangs against the mattress; unable to decipher if your resentment that flares up stems from your familiarity with him or the fact he brought up he sleeps with other people while he's inside you. "Jay." you scold, that pet name that only you get to call him.
He answers you with a mean buck, your ass bouncing on his hips as he plunges in without polite accommodation. You cry out from surprise, but bury your face in the covers to muffle yourself. Little whimperings surface as he continues on, bottoming out every time, letting the natural bound of your body do the work as he pushes it forward just for it to spring back from the position. Your slick coats him, forming in a pretty white cream at the base. "I missed this," he releases in a husky exhale. "Can't keep away from this pussy, she grabs me too good." Wet and warm, full body chills run down him as your hole swallows him up, and his nails dig into the flesh at your torso as if daring you to move. He's not above shoving you right back down.
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morverenmaybewrites · 3 months
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Domestic Arkham!Jason Todd Headcanons
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Y’all ever think about the inherent tragedy of Arkham!Jason craving something as simple as domesticity? 
How he craves the comfort of home-cooked meals, but can’t actually eat anything he hasn’t prepared himself. Because during his time in Joker’s captivity, almost everything he was served was either poisoned or rotten, and now every time he eats, it’s like he’s expecting the burn of poison or the flavor of something sour and rotten flooding his mouth.
Can you imagine the frustration he must feel at his inability to share a simple meal with you? 
The sudden clench in his gut when he realizes that he wasn’t there to watch you prepare the food, and despite the fact that he trusts you, he can’t help that familiar dread rising in the back of his throat. 
Jason tries, for you, he tries. 
But there are times, more often than not, when he feels the phantom burn of poison or the flavor of something sour and rotten flooding his mouth–and his body reacts before his mind does. 
And suddenly he’s hunched over the sink or the toilet, vomiting out half-digested food, and it’s almost like he never left Arkham Asylum.
Can you imagine the absolute burning jealousy he feels whenever his family interacts with you with an ease he can only dream of? 
Maybe it’s a movie night, during one of those rare times when Gotham City didn’t need saving, and there’s Tim and Dick and Barbara piled on the couch. And you fit so well with them–a tangle of limbs and careless laughter at a dumb joke Dick made–that it’s Jason who feels like an outsider. 
Jason sits apart from all of you, the only person to pick an armchair instead of the couch, because every time he tries to sit close to someone, all he can think is whether they’re close enough to see his scars.
The table is piled high with snacks, more than the five of you can realistically eat in an evening. There’s popcorn and pizza, mozzarella sticks and pretzels, several bars of chocolate that can only be found in Bludhaven, the air is thick with the smell of grease and cheese dust. 
And it’s almost like being a teenager again. Before that night and the Joker and everything else that followed. 
It’s almost like being a teenager again, dizzy with the good fortune of being adopted by Bruce fucking Wayne, watching some dumb flick with his siblings when he was supposed to be training. Ordering takeout food and laughing along with Dick at Alfred’s visible disappointment as they stuff their faces. 
It’s almost like being a teenager again, but not quite. 
Jason watches the four of you pass around a bowl of popcorn, arguing about which genre of movie to start with. But when Barbara tries to hand it to him, he feels a sudden clot of heat in his chest, and he’s already shaking his head before he even knows why. 
And he realizes, he’s afraid. 
He doesn’t know who made the food or what restaurant it was ordered from, and he is sure if he asks, no one would be able to give him all of the names of people who handled it. 
The burn of poison and the taste of something sour and rotten flooding his mouth.
Poisoned cake and rotting rats. The writhing of pale white maggots against bone and glistening meat and gristle.
He doesn’t touch anything for the rest of the evening.
Can you imagine how scared he is? 
Jason is so acutely, painfully aware of how exhausting it is to be with him. To be with someone you can’t even share a simple meal with. 
And he wonders how long it will be before you get tired of him.
Bruce, after all, had left after he had seen the twisted thing Jason had become. 
And if his own father couldn’t even stomach his presence–
And suddenly he’s hunched over again, over the sink or against the toilet, vomiting out half-digested food. 
And it really is like he never left Arkham Asylum after all.
This is what he thinks, when he finally collapses on the tiles of your bathroom floor, cold sweat pouring down his face. Your presence hovering over him like a ghost, a thousand apologies pouring from your throat. 
But it’s not you that’s the problem, it’s him. 
It’s this awful thing in the back of his head, always expecting the next threat, the next injury, the next sick game the Joker has come up with. 
It’s the fact that his days with the Joker had left him so twisted and strange that he can no longer fit into a normal life, even when he wants to. 
And this is what he thinks, when you catch the way he is not watching the movie at all. But instead he is looking at his family’s faces, his chest pulsing with a jealousy so fierce it might as well have been his heartbeat.
Jason wishes–oh, how he wishes–it was that easy, that simple for him. 
You disentangle yourself from his siblings–Dick had already fallen asleep, head lolling heavily on your shoulder, to pad your way to him. You sink down onto the armchair to share it with him, practically on top of him, and he marvels at the way your heat dispels the chill that has crept over him. 
Your hands are small compared to his, but they are just big enough that when you lay them atop of his, he does not have to think about whether you can see the scars. 
This is what he thinks, on days like these. It is something he always thinks, a small voice in the back of his head that is never silenced.  
He doesn't deserve you. 
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Thanks to @red--pirate for the idea!
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Y/N : Buy me cute underwear and I will let you see me wearing it.
Jason: If I buy you nothing, can I see you wearing that?
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krashoutluv · 21 days
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arkham knight jason todd instructing his militia
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stormy-skyzzzzzz · 26 days
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it was fun writing the last Jason Todd imagine so… picture this
Lifeguard Jason Todd in that (slutty) tank top, arms defined and muscles on display. Whistle on a band around his arm. His hair ruffled as the curls sway gently in the wind.
Lifeguard Jason Todd who’s good with kids and gently reminds them to walk in the pool area. He would hold the hand of the little girl who desperately want to play with her friends in the pool but is too scared to take the first step into the water alone.
Lifeguard Jason Todd who has the eyes of a damn hawk and spots anyone who needs his help. He’ll jump straight into action if he’s needed, no hesitation. Someone struggling to keep afloat, he’s there. Someone lost their goggles underwater, he’ll get them.
Lifeguard Jason Todd who notices you sunbathing on the side of the pool and admittedly gets a little distracted watching you. He’ll try his best not to look because he doesn’t want to be a creep but you’re so pretty lying there in the sun.
Y’all just imagine him as a Lifeguard. I would die actually. Death by pretty boy.
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ravenna-reid · 2 months
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Ok but hear me out.
Jason Todd and Forensic Psychologist Reader.
Imagine you caught Jason's attention when some of his guys were randomly discussing who the best forensic psychologist in Gotham City was. After that, he made it his mission to find out everything about you, and in the process he ended up becoming sick with infatuation.
So now you've been, well, you wouldn't call it dating but you'd both been seeing each other for a few months. Up in your penthouse apartment, far from the common Gotham crime. It made Jason glad, the idea of you being so high up and far away from the dark alley ways and thugs. But what really made him sleep a little easier at night was the fact that he had installed new locks onto your windows and door.
So now you both laid there, tangled in your silk sheets. Jason was whispering sweet nothings to you in between kisses.
"My little psychologist." His lips locked onto yours before you pulled away.
"Little?" He stopped looking for your lips and finally opened his eyes to take you in. Even when you were trying to look annoyed you were gorgeous.
"I meant it in an endearing way. I promise."
"Well, your little psychologist has to go to work now." You teased as you began to manoeuvre your way out of his large arms. Jason quickly tightened them around your waist.
"No wait-" He said pulling you back in. Jason accidentally let that slither of desperation show again. But you loved it. "Stay, please."
Wry smile on your lips, you began to slip back into bed. "Alright, but only because it's you..."
You initiated the kiss this time as he melted back into your touch. Hands travelling around your waist to your back. Body pressed against yours.
"My little vigilante." You laughed, and he gave a smirk in return.
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