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#jason todd oneshot
millyhelp · 1 month
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Jason panics when he sees your first period after you and him started dating.
Seeing you double over in pain on the bed, squeezing his arm when a wave of strong cramps hit you, and seeing you cry in pain was something that almost made Jason freak out. This man now had a mission.
Jason did research. Read books. asked doctors. Yes, this man kidnapped a gynecologist just so he could ask personal questions but he let the poor man go as soon as the doubts were resolved.
After he knew the answers to help you, this began to be a tradition in your blood days.
Jason would give you orgasms and he would fuck you. Of course he didn't leave affection aside, but the most effective thing to get rid of your cramps was orgasm.
and if you agreed, over time, Jason would even eat you out during that time. But only if you agree! He doesn't want you to think he's weird (he is)
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cipheress-to-k-pop · 6 days
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bluetooth j.t.
Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader
Warnings: A little suggestive if you squint
Word Count: 1.2k words
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You don't know how you allowed yourself to get manipulated into being a girlboss and moving out of your childhood home to live in your own apartment. While it was nice to have your own privacy and decorate your home however you liked, you realized just how many privileges you lost now that you weren't in the care of your parents.
There was no one there to make sure you woke up on time in the few cases where you slept through your alarm, no one that you could call on your way back from work to ask to switch on the water heater so you could take a steamy shower immediately.
You didn't have your mother's homecooked meals and you didn't have your father to pick you up snacks from the grocery store.
And one of the biggest thorns in your side was the reason you were dreading the entire day. Car maintenance. The auto shop was one of the most daunting places in your life as a girl who knew nothing about cars. Never once had you regretted not learning how to take care of your car or even the procedure required when you eventually take your car down to the auto shop.
But now standing in the hot and dusty garage, you were seriously rethinking your life choices. You should've scheduled these things for when your dad was visiting so you could ask him to take it instead. Or, even better, you should've gotten a boyfriend.
You were complaining in your head, dragging your feet about having to be here in the first place and whined about handing your car keys, with a bunch of adorable keychains attached to some rando.
But when Jason Todd, 6'2 man with biceps that were larger than your own head and a body that looked like he was shaped out of marble by Michelangelo himself walked out with a form for you to fill out, you were all too happy to be there.
Perhaps you'd be leaving here with a boyfriend after all.
"I have to admit, I don't really know much about cars so please don't scam me."
Jason chuckled, a deep, hoarse laugh that made you a little weak in the knees honestly and the boy-crazed fraction of your brain began to imagine how he would sound as soon as he woke up next to you, after a night of—
"A bit of advice, you probably don't want to let scammers know that you have no idea what they're talking about."
You giggled, scolding yourself mentally for finding that funny.
'Come on, (Y/N), pull yourself together it wasn't even that funny. His face is just great delivery.'
"Or I could keep coming here and have you check my car, since you're so trustworthy." You mused, sparing him a teasing smile.
Jason was completely picking up what you were putting down, giving you a coy smile of his own before responding, "Or perhaps this is just a tactic to get you to keep coming back."
You narrowed your eyes playfully, "Devious."
Looking back at his little clipboard, a thin metal rod of some kind tucked behind his ear instead of a pen, Jason asked, "When was the last time you got your car checked out? If your battery and brake pad was replaced recently, we could probably skip that and just do a routine check to make sure everything's running smoothly."
You winced, "I couldn't tell you, honestly. My dad usually handles this kinda stuff for me, I'm still kind of a new lamb when it comes to taking care of my car."
Jason raised his eyes from the clipboard for a second, "Your boyfriend can't do this kinda stuff for you instead?"
"I don't have a boyfriend."
He perked up immediately and you ducked your head to hide your smile, "I'm sure you probably have a record of it in your glovebox or something. Most places keep a little sticker with the date of your last service under the dash. I'll check it out for you, do you have somewhere to be, or do you have a couple minutes so I can make sure?"
You shook your head, shrugging your shoulders with a carefree smile, "It's my day off so I'm free as a bird."
He grinned, "Noted. Just give me a second."
You watched his back receding as he walked toward your car, shoulders looking like they could span the entire ocean and it was only when he was sat in the car and had turned on the engine did you whip out your phone at lightspeed.
"Ohmygosh Julie, I think I just met my future husband. Holy shit. He's so cute—gorgeous actually. He's working on my car right now and God, those arms, wow. And those eyes? God, I feel blessed just by looking at his face." The end of your message was interrupted by another mechanic running the engine.
You waited patiently for the sound of the engine to die before replaying the voice message so you could re-record the part that got cut off. Only you couldn't hear a thing.
Confused, you increased the volume, taking a sip from your coffee to soothe the inhumane squeal that you had let out while sending Julie the voice message. Once again you heard nothing.
You bit your lip at this, swiping down at the corner of your phone at access your control center and realizing the reason you couldn't hear anything was because it was connected to the Bluetooth on your car.
Wait.
THE CAR?!
You whipped around in horror only to find Jason smirking at you from the front seat of your car. If the world were fair, you'd be struck down with lightning right then and there. Or, since you were at an auto shop, a sentient car might run you over.
Alas, you continued to stand there in horror, completely unharmed no matter how badly you wished to be reduced to a puddle on the ground.
You called him your future husband. The ground should've swallowed you then and there. Instead, you just stood there in complete mortification and embarrassment while you stared at his amused expression.
Something startled him out of his gaze for a second and he pointed at your console, making a gesture like he was taking a call. Confused, you glanced at your phone.
'Incoming call: Julie'
Ah, saved by the bell.
*
"How much do I owe you?" You asked, quickly popping open your purse to fish out your credit card. You had stretched out the conversation with Julie as long as possible, begging her not to hang up and only interrupting her tangent when Jason finally came up to you, saying that your car was good to go.
"It's on the house." He gave you a charming grin, leaning an arm against the counter, "Can't have my future wife paying for anything, can I?"
Your cheeks flared red, still holding out your card for him to take, "O-Oh, I couldn't, really."
"If you insist, then you can always repay me with dinner. Today's your day off, right? Think you can pencil me in for 7?"
A shy smile grew on your face, your body so warm you had to resist fanning your burning cheeks, "Sounds like a plan."
Forever Taglist:
@simonsbluee
@notslaybabes
@superheroesaremyjam113263
@writers-whirlwind
DC Taglist:
@emmacata
@p--e--a--c--h--e--s
@sometimeseverythingsucks
@sokkas-honour
@unstable1902
@lostgirlheart
@missdisapear
@tadpole-san
@isawachickeninatree
@uxavity
@battlenix
@capricorn-stark
@evermoore580
@dumbbitchgalore
@fuckingjinkies
@some-lovely-day
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e-nonsense · 5 days
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─── 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩
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pairing. prince!jason todd x witch!reader
summary. royal au. bruce doesn’t approve of his son’s relationship with constantine’s pupil/ward , not that jason cares
warnings. pet names: little pet, darling. Tooth rotting fluff i guess?
a/n. fuck writers block. three fits in less than 12 hours? crazy. might make this an au, so feel free to send requests based on this au to find out more
wc. 1.1k not proofread
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Jason rolled his eyes as another young woman walked away from him, throughly offended. This had been one of Bruce’s many attempts to find his so a suitable woman— one that wasn’t you.
After Dick had married Princess Koriand'r and left to live with her in her kingdom, Jason had become the sole heir to Bruce’s kingdom. Being the second oldest of his siblings. But before any of that Jason had fallen in love with you.
“Lost young prince?” your voice comes from trees, and Jason glances around frantically. His hunting expedition had gone horribly wrong, a group of trickster illusionists had scared his men and the horses away. Leaving Jason behind.
“Who’s there?” He ask, raising his sword while turning in a circle, his eyes land on you as you step out from the shadows. The sun makes your eyes glow and Jason thinks you’re the most beautiful things he’ll ever see. His guard is lowered, as his eyes scan you up and down, taking in your beauty before moving back to your eyes.
You chuckle and he swears someone had to have casted a love spell on him, he can’t take his eyes of you. “Are you allowed to be this deep in the forest?” You ask and he gulps nervously as you step closer to him, your simple grey dress trailing behind you. “I’m surprised you made it through all the wards I put up around here.”
“Plus the Chimera,” you hum thoughtfully.
“Can you not speak?” You ask, inching closer till you’re in his personal space. “Apologies,” you smile.
“No.. no I can speak.” He whispers, staring down at you before sheathing his sword.
“Oh,” your smile widens. “Well, would you like to join me for tea?” You offer, and Jason knows he should’ve hesitated before nodding but he couldn’t help it. The excitement in your eyes when he agreed would be worth it if you were truly planning on killing him. Either way he let you lead him through the trees to a cottage that past the border of the land of witches and warlocks.
“At least try to entertain the thought, Todd.” Damian scoffed watching as another possible — approved — suitor walked away. “Father has gained many grey hair because of your devotion to the witch.” Truthfully Damian had no problem with you, he thought you were a perfect fit for his brother. Kind, loyal, able to put up with Jason’s moods.
It was just Bruce’s paranoia getting in the way of everyone’s peace. When the king had found out about you, he called in a favour from a warlock to get rid of whatever love spell you placed on his son. Safe to say John Constantine was amused by the request but assured Bruce that there was no spell on Jason and the boy’s infatuation with you was purely Jason.
Jason rolled his eyes at the thought, “or Bruce just needs to get over it.” He retorted, crossing his arms scowling as another pride princess tried to near him. “I’m leaving,” Jason says, looking over at Bruce as he makes his escape.
It didn’t take long for Jason to escape the palace grounds, through he was sure he had ripped his suit jacket, not that he’d see the stupid peace of fabric as he’d already dumped his clothes for a simple white poet shirt and some black riding pants. He rode his stallion to the forest’s entrance, stopping in front of it and trying it’s lead to a flimsy fence.
The prince entered the forest with no care, the protective wards shimmered as he entered, and the path illuminated in the darkness. Something you had done so he wouldn’t lose himself in the woods when he’d run from the palace and seek comfort in your cottage.
He quickly followed the path, passing the border and swiftly making his way to your home. When he arrived Jason knocked on the door softly, waiting for you to answer.
The door is answered a few seconds later, revealing a tall blond. The man groans, rolling his eye, “not you again.” He grumble, a cigarette dangling from his finger as he opens the door properly. “Kid! Your boyfriends here!” John calls out as he swings his coat over his shoulder, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he pats his pockets down looking for a lighter before snorting and lighting it with his fingers.
“Well go on in,” John shrugs, stepping out of the cottage you called home. “Oh, tell her to stop sending her little ravens to check on me, will ya?” John adds before disappearing into the misty pathway.
Jason always wondered how the man never found himself lost, or perhaps John never had somewhere specific he’d ever be going, cant be lost with no destination.
The second Jason stepped into the cottage he was met with the sight of you humming a tune, the same one he heard when the two of you met. Jason smiled, walking closer until he could wrap his arms around you and rest his chin on your shoulder.
“Hi love,” you say as soft spoken as always. His eyes watched as you peeled potatoes before he kissed your cheek gently, “hi sweetheart.” He mumbled in return.
“How was the ball?” You asked, mainly teasing but with some curiosity.
“Missed you,” he huffed like a child, “Bruce is always trying to set me up with princesses. Who wants those snobby little bastards? Not me.” He complained.
“Just because Dick married a princess— who by the way comes from a magical bloodline— he thinks I’m going to do the same. Kori’s nice and all but how is it fair? Just because she’s royalty, its okay that Dick married her.”
You sigh softly, “he’s trying to protect you. People have never trusted those who come from this side of the world, faes, witches, shapeshifters. Sometimes with good reason, not all of us have good intentions.”
“But you do,” Jason retorts. “You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met, and i don’t say want anyone that isn’t you…. Is there a way that i could stay here with you?” He asks and you shake your head.
“Not without your father starting a war, we don't want a repeat of 1843.”
Jason groans but understands, Bruce would assume the worst if Jason just disappeared again, especially now that he was with you. He’d assume you’ve kidnapped him or some bullshit to feed his ideals.
“Can i stay for the night then?” He murmurs softy, his nose nudhung your cheek. “I just wanna love you before going back.”
You find your resolve melting away when you meet his eyes, blue and green. “One night, then home.” You nod.
“You are home,” he mumbles in response but doesn’t press further, instead the rest of the night is filled with laughter as you teach him a new recipe he’ll be sure to share with Alfred.
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© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off
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alwaysmoncheri · 2 months
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and jason have a complicated relationship, but when you find yourself in a troubling situation, jason just happens to be your emergency contact
𝐜𝐰: female!reader, minimal swearing, sexual assault, cat calling, assault, violence, 1.5k, jason todd x reader
<3
midnights in gotham city smell distinctly of blood. the dark streets are littered with corpses of victims who stain the rubble red. crime is high and murder remains rampant among the homeless people living on the streets. you know walking home alone at this hour alongside the hundreds of criminals that hide in the shadows is a terrible idea. but your shift at the library ran late tonight and you had no other means of transportation, hence the reason why you find yourself alone in a dark alley far from the comfort and safety of your apartment.
the faint footsteps of desperate strangers lurk behind you, the sound echoes through the night, and your skin crawls with anticipation of what’s to follow. nothing good comes from the situation that you’ve found yourself in and that’s what brings you to pull out your phone and tap on the first contact that pops up on your screen.
jason.
your relationship with jason is complicated. like most things in your life you suppose. but jason is the only one who’s almost always by your side. maybe that’s part of what possessed you to click on his name on your phone and bring it up to your ear with trembling fingers.
“hey, sweet—”
“jason, I think i’m being followed.” you breathe out quickly and you don't dare to peek so much as a glance behind you.
“shit. hang on, babe. just—”
jason's voice, laced with urgency, cuts through the tense night as the echo of your footsteps intensifies. the sounds of the desolate alley amplify, creating an eerie symphony of fear and impending danger.
“i’m so scared, jay,” your shaky voice reaches jason, carrying the weight of dread as if it were a tangible thing. in response, jason's voice becomes a soothing anchor, his words a balm to your frayed nerves.
“hey, it’s okay, sweetheart. tell me where you are,” jason's voice, steady and reassuring, breaks through the chaos. your breath catches as you fumble to provide your location, the darkness of the alley making every detail obscure.
“I don’t know, I think in an alley near the corner of 5th and main. I thought it would be quicker. jason, please hurry,” desperation seeps into your words, painting a vivid picture of the peril you find yourself in.
“just hang on, i’m on my way,” jason's promise becomes a lifeline, a lifeline you desperately clutch onto. the plea, "don’t hang up, please don’t hang up," echoes through the phone, the fear of losing that connection palpable.
“I won’t, honey. just keep telling me what’s going on, okay?” jason's voice is a steady stream of reassurance, a counterpoint to the mounting chaos.
your breath quickens as you confess, "there’s multiple, jay."
“multiple what? sweetheart, talk to me,” jason's concern deepens, the gravity of the situation reflected in the intensity of his inquiry.
“people, there’s multiple people. they’re still following me, and I can’t lose them,” your voice quivers, painting a chilling image of the shadows closing in.
“i’m almost there, okay? just hang on a little longer, can you do that for me?” jason’s words are a beacon of hope, urging you to endure the storm just a little while longer.
“they’re getting closer. shit,” panic infuses your voice as the chase intensifies. jason senses the urgency, a quiet determination in his response.
the abrupt cut-off and your distressed cry for help and jason’s call to you, "y/n!?" mark the harrowing turn. the phone, a lifeline moments ago, is silenced by a crushing foot, an audible confirmation of the looming threat.
“looks like your boyfriend isn’t going to make it, gorgeous,” a sinister voice taunts, the malevolence palpable in the dimly lit alley. the struggle intensifies, and your defiant words ring through the night.
“get off of me, you creep!” your voice is a mix of fear and defiance, a visceral response to the encroaching menace.
“watch your tone, sweetie,” a chilling warning hangs in the air as they pin you down. the confrontation takes a dark turn as you spit in their faces, a desperate act of resistance.
“such a shame that’s what you’re using such a pretty mouth for,” a sinister chuckle underscores the dehumanizing intent, leaving a bitter taste in the tense air.
“that’s alright, we don’t want you for your mouth anyway,” a chilling statement, a precursor to unspeakable horrors, hangs over the alley.
in the clash of desperation and violence, the air changes as jason, your vigilante savior, descends upon the scene like a guardian angel emerging from the shadows. the sounds of a fierce struggle ensue, muffled grunts and the scuff of boots on concrete. with a swift, powerful intervention, the men are knocked out and when they loosen their grip you sink to the ground with defeat and despair. you don’t even notice you’re crying until jason gently prys your hands from your face and rubs your tears away with the rough thumb of his leather glove
then, in one swift motion, jason's strong, reassuring arms envelop you, pulling you into an embrace that feels like sanctuary. relief washes over you, grounding you in the reality of his protective presence.
“it's okay, sweetheart. you're safe now,” jason's voice, previously a lifeline over the phone, now echoes directly into your ear, a soothing melody that erases the lingering echoes of fear. his words are a healing balm, mending the wounds of terror inflicted upon your psyche.
the dimly lit alley transforms from a nightmare into a haven under the watchful gaze of your friend. the tension in your shoulders eases, and the erratic beat of your heart gradually steadies as you bask in the warmth of his reassuring touch.
“i've got you, y/n. you're safe,” jason whispers, the warmth of his breath against your ear a soothing balm to the wounds inflicted by fear. the resonance of those words sinking deep into the recesses of your shaken soul. his presence is a shield against the haunting memories of the alley, a reassurance that the nightmare is over.
the shattered phone lies forgotten, a casualty of the struggle, as jason continues to shield you from the residual fear. he tilts your chin up gently, meeting your eyes with an unwavering gaze that speaks volumes of his commitment and protective instinct.
“let's get you home,” jason murmurs, his fingers tenderly brushing away a stray strand of hair from your face. together, you navigate the now-quiet alley, the looming threat replaced by the solid ground beneath your feet and the reassuring touch of the person who faced the darkness on your behalf.
as you approach the familiar comfort of your apartment, jason's protective hold lingers. “are you okay?” he asks, his voice a gentle murmur that eases the residual tension in your body. you nod against his chest, words escaping you as relief and gratitude flood your senses.
the apartment door closes with a muffled thud, shutting out the ominous whispers of the night. jason, ever watchful, guides you towards the bathroom. the soft hum of the overhead light bathes the space in a gentle glow, revealing the porcelain sink and mirror.
you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror – disheveled, eyes wide with residual fear. without a word, jason turns on the faucet, letting the water flow until it reaches a soothing warmth. his fingers graze yours, urging you to lean over the sink.
the splashing water echoes in the small room as jason's hands cup and scoop, the liquid cascading over your face. the feel of his fingers against your skin is both tender and firm, each touch a cleansing ritual that washes away the remnants of the night.
you glance up into the mirror, meeting jason's eyes. there's an unspoken understanding as his hands move methodically, the cool water providing a refreshing contrast to the heated intensity of the ordeal. the sensation is grounding, a simple act of care that transcends words.
as you straighten up, a vulnerability lingers in your gaze. you turn off the faucet, and the silence hangs in the air. the wet droplets cling to your skin, a tangible reminder of the shared intimacy in this simple act of cleansing. jason's hands linger on your face, his fingers tracing a silent promise. the air in the bathroom holds a charged stillness, the transition from fear to intimacy palpable.
the urgency of the night lingers in your eyes. “stay, jason, please,” the plea escapes your lips, a raw, desperate plea that echoes in the confined space of the bathroom. his gaze meets yours, and for a moment, the weight of the world seems to shift.
there's a pause, a heartbeat suspended in time, before jason's expression softens. his agreement is wordless, a nod that carries the promise of a shared refuge in the night.
the journey from the bathroom to the bedroom is taken in tandem, the touch of his hand on the small of your back a grounding force. the mattress welcomes you both, and the room is immersed in the soft glow of bedside lamps. the night unfolds with shared breaths and jason's hand finding yours.
“thank you.” you whisper to him under the sheets, the warmth of his body next to you radiating into your own, “thank you for protecting me.”
“i’ll always protect you, sweetheart.”
masterlist . jason todd masterlist . taglist
thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!
alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.
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spidernuggets · 5 months
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Random Jason Todd relationship HCs that live in my head rent free
he hates any physical touch but also absolutely desires it because my boy is touch starved.
will make any sexual jokes whenever given the opportunity. "Oh my god, that was so hard" "you know what else is so hard-"
forhead kisses 🫶🫶😍😍🙌🙌
when starting a relationship, before any physical affection, yous would link pinkies when walking around before holding hands 🙌🙌
pls let him rant about his books
will smack your ass whenever he walks passed you
he lowkey likes being little spoon more than big spoon
just hold him, he's fragile
he'll melt if he sees you wearing his clothes, especially his brown leather jacket 🤭🤭
he might scold you for trying to stay up for him to come back from patrol, but internally, he's probs like "oh my lawd, i love them so much i might die again"
idk why, but i feel like if you compliment him on anything, he'd reply with smth cocky or say whatever, but when you leave, he'll be grinning and giggling and kicking his feet like a school girl.
If you're not a vigilante, he'd want to teach you how to defend yourself, use a gun, etc. You'd get excited about how skilled he is, and his ego would just go 📈📈📈
if you are a vigilante and his teammate too with the Titans, yous would spar on a regular basis. The first time you sparred (before your relationship), he'd go easy on you, but once you show how skilled you are, he probably already fell in love by then. In a literal sense, too, seeing as you toppled him over during your sparring match.
Pulls you into an alley during missions/patrols for a quick make-out session 😏😏
Now time for hurt/comfort, my fave
the first time you sleep in bed together, he'll most likely have might terrors that would wake you up. when he wakes up too and you ask him about them, he'd raise his voice, have a bit of a temper tantrum and tell you it's none of your business.
next morning, he'd either kiss you all over as a quiet apology or stay quiet about the dilemma and pretend nothing happened.
if the latter happens, he'd apologise eventually for yelling at you and telling you he doesn't want to talk about it.
ok, say he comes back from patrol or a mission with the other Titans, and something went horribly wrong, and he's blaming himself, and considering how the other Titans treat him, they'd probably blame him too, depending what happened that might.
So he's just cursing loudly, punching the wall, knocking things over. NONE of this anger is pointed towards you, Jason would never raise a hand at you, no matter what circumstance, he just needs something to release his anger on.
Something like this would probably happen a good few months into your relationship, so you know to step away from him for a while, until he calms down, then you'd make him some tea and you'd both sit on the couch or lie in bed in a somber but somewhar comforting silence.
Jason would then find some way to apologise for his outbreak, and you would repeat multiple times that it's not his fault.
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sleepyangelkami · 2 months
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PLAY PRETEND (j.t)
a/n: i intended for this to be a fake girlfriend to real girlfriend story but i got carried away in the plot!!
pairing: jason todd x fem!reader best friend!dick grayson x fem!reader
summary: jason needs someone to act as his girlfriend to the gala, which you decide to go along with but jealousy and alcohol get the better of you leading to one too many drunken confessions.
warnings: drinking, alcohol, bad descriptions of being drunk, jealousy, angst, pining, manipulation, skinny love, crying, slight panic attack, use of good girl (non-sexual), comfort, petnames, use of y/n, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread ❤
words: 3,165
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you stood with your back against the drinks table, sighing through your pouted lips as you glanced around the room, hoping for some type of entertainment to catch your eye. you didn't even wish to be here, in fact, you would have done just about anything to be snuggled up in your bed reading a book right about now.
jason was the reason you were here in the first place and yet, he was nowhere to be seen.
you’d heard of the wayne gala’s a lot before, it wasn’t exactly new to you. you’d been to a couple of them yourself too but there was a reason you didn’t come to them often and one could guess it was because this is how it always ended, you sat up against the drinks table with expensive alcohol swirling in your expensive glass and dressed in your expensive dress. it was so… not you.
you were the type of girl that dragged your friends to junk yards and bought the cheapest clothes that you saw hidden in thrift stores. 
not the type of girl that attended wayne gala’s. 
and yet, here you stood all because you were so helplessly smitten with your all time best friend, jason todd, the son of bruce wayne, the redhood, the gentleman, the many, many things. he’d asked you to go to the wayne gala’s with him before, offering it up yet you always politely declined, stating it wasn’t your scene but this time was simply different.
you’d sat up on your bed, flicking through your magazines while jason rambled on as he began tearing his tie from around his throat. it was late, too late but jason never did care for the time when it came to seeing you.
you swallowed, nodding along and humming. it was just so late and you’d only woken up so your mind was all fuzzy and for some reason you couldn’t stop thinking about how nice some grapes would taste right about now. “are you listening to me?” the question from jason was rhetorical but you’d be lying if you said your undivided attention as on him. “i’m a dead man!” 
“it’s not that big of a deal.” you uttered, closing your magazine and sighing, you really wanted some grapes. “really, you’re only stressing yourself out. you’re an… attractive guy, i’m sure you’ll get a girlfriend between now and the next gala.”
“but thats the thing… i don’t want a girlfriend!” sheesh, your head was too clouded for his yelling. “i shouldn’t have opened my mouth.”
you could only shrug your shoulders, nodding. “true.”
he took a seat on the pink quilts that surrounded your bed, his head falling into his hands and groaning. “you’re not helping.” 
jason had made the idiotic choice of lying to bruce when asked if he had a girlfriend. he was just so tired of him asking and asking and asking so he decided to lie, telling him that he did in fact have a girlfriend and that they’d been together for quite a while now, he’d just been saving the announcement for a more special day.
so what did bruce do? announce it at his next gala, stating that jason would surely be bringing her along for the next.
and jason almost choked on his bourbon. 
he was dressed in his suit from before, his hair all messed and teased while his clothes just looked out of it, his shirt untucked, his jacket discarded on the ground and he had pulled the tie from his neck, unbuttoning the first two or three buttons, he felt like he was going to collapse.
“i’m sorry.” you spoke softly, feeling sympathetic for your ‘best friend’. you turned to him, clad in your pretty pink pijama’s and softening your gaze on him. “how can i help?” 
the way you looked at him should have told him everything. what your gaze should have said was that you were in love with him, you had been since the very first day you’d laid your eyes on him, gaze never leaving and your jaw falling slack. okay, perhaps you hadn’t loved him during your first encounter but there was definitely… something, something that told you this wasn’t just any boy but he was something much much more.
it should have told him a lot of things, should have spilled your feelings right then and there but jason was as oblivious as they come, he hadn’t a notion of what your gaze meant. in fact, he blamed the diluted pupils on the fact that he’d woken you up, banging on your door at all hours of the night. 
“you could help in one way but… nevermind, it’s stupid.” shaking his head and turning away. the master of manipulation.
and you looked almost concerned then, the victim of that very manipulation. “no, what is it? i wanna help.” 
and he knew you did, it’s why he said anything in the first place. sweet old you, always willing to do anything he said, just to please him.
“you could… you know, pretend to be my girlfriend, it would just be for the night, for the gala. you know, to get everyone off my back?” his eyes stared back at you, big and hopeful.
how could you, in your right mind, say no when you were so utterly full of love for the boy. “wha… i don’t even have a dress.” an excuse, a terrible one because something in you was downright shocked. you? of all people? first, you could barely go to that gala as it was let alone pretend to be his girlfriend.
besides, you began to get a little worried. perhaps you’d like the pretend game a little too much. 
“i’ll buy you a dress.” he insisted almost instantly. lord knew he had the money.
but you frowned a little at that. “i’m not a charity case, jay…” sure, your apartment was a little small but it was homely, it was you. though you were sure it didn’t much live up to jasons standards.
“not a charity case, i know.” he came a little closer, pressing his hand against your thigh and rubbing it gently. “i just want you to feel your best for the night, angel, it’s just one night.” 
you bit down on your lip, knowing you’d regret it. “fine.” 
but for jason, you’d face just about any guilt. 
and after his many thank you’s and squishing hugs that had your face smushed against your chest you finally sighed out. “I can’t believe i’m doing this for you.” sending him a playful glare though there was a pit in your stomach.
“please.” he couldn’t help but smirk. “you love me.” 
and you couldn’t possibly tear your eyes away from him. without playfulness or a smile, you spoke the words, “I’d have to be a fool.” before quickly shaking your head and changing the subject. “you have to wear a pink tie to match my dress.” 
he had the audacity to laugh in your face. “I will not.” 
“yes you will.” you folded your arms over your chest. “you will or i’m not going.” 
jason couldn’t help but shake his head with a chuckle. “fine.” 
“fine.” you repeated. “now go get me grapes from the fridge.” 
brat. 
you’d been announced as his girlfriend, he’d held your waist for the entire night, grinned and beamed over at you as his brothers watched sceptically. 
now, you sat alone at a table, downing what felt like your hundredth glass.
you didn’t drink often so you gave yourself a little lean for this time, seeing as you never did it, now was your chance to get absolutely… shitfaced, did damian call it? 
but it wasn’t as if you didn’t have a good reason. 
jason, your best friend, your first and last love, was standing speaking to some blonde girl, she was giggling away, obviously pleased with herself as if she didn’t have a lipgloss smudge on her teeth. and you? you couldn’t have been more ashamed with yourself. 
your head was placed on your arm that was slinked across the white tablecloth, just watching the pair as the alcohol swirled in your cup. you wondered how you went from eating the white grapes to downing the white wine in your hands.
then your eyes glanced back to jason, in his pretty pink tie, and it all made sense. 
he was your best friend, you had no right to be jealous, no reason to be but for some reason you thought by him bringing you here, introducing you as his girlfriend meant something. 
but it was all just play pretend. 
you knew this, you knew it as well as anyone and yet you still couldn’t help but feel so utterly… hurt.
your eyes burned but you weren’t crying, your throat burned but that was only because of the alcohol that didn’t even taste nice.
they should really have grapejuice here, the non-alcoholic kind. 
it was dick grayson who’d laid his hands on your shoulders that adverted your gaze from jason. your pupils were wide, the rims of your eyes red though you weren’t sure if that was due to the alcohol or the fact that you were holding your own tears at bay. 
“hey, y/n, how you feeling?” his tone was soft, understanding. he really was one of your best friends. he was crouched down to your level as you sat in the chair.
you glanced down to the cup in your hands. “think ‘m drunk, dickie.” because suddenly the entire room was spinning. 
“yeah.” he pressed his lips into a thin line. “think maybe you’re done for tonight, huh?” taking the glass from your hands before you could so much as protest.
with heavy eyes and an even heavier heart, you nodded your head. “think ‘m… ‘m gonna go home.” home was where your bed is, they say. but saying you were going home and directing it towards your house didn’t even sound right. home was that curly, raven haired boy with a pretty smile.
“don’t go home.” his eyes glanced towards jason, sighing. “don’t go before you’ve talked to him.” 
dick was one of your best friends. with that being said, he knew everything about you down to where your birthmarks were, that meant he knew all about these hidden feelings for your supposed best friend jason todd, his dear little brother. 
but you could only shake your head. even thinking about jason right now was enough to make you queasy. “no, he’s talkin’ to blondie.” blondie, the pretty girl who you couldn’t even judge if you wanted to. she had a dark black dress on, she was much taller than you, large heels and standing with her shoulders drawn back, obviously much more confident too. 
was she everything that you lacked? 
as if summoning him, you could feel the dark shadow that loomed over you, even with your head pressed against that damned tabelcloth, even that was expensive. 
“is she alright?” 
that voice, that pretty, deep, and almost mysterious voice yet as perplexing as it was, you were sure that you’d recognise that voice amiss any crowd, through any drink that entered your system. jason still roamed your mind, always and when his voice was spoken, you were sure to hear it. 
“she’s drunk.” dick answered for you, as though you weren’t sitting right next to him. “i think you should bring her upstairs, get her cleaned up and put to bed.” dick was doing you a favour in the long run, even if it didn’t feel like it.
but your head had finally risen from the table, big doey eyes staring up at the two large men above you. “n-no i can… i can bring myself home.” your words slurring.
jason couldn’t help but laugh down at you, glossy lips turned into a pout. “yeah, cause i’d let you ride your little bicycle through gotham alone, at this hour of the night, in the state that you’re in.” of course, you were the only one in the entire world that would ride one of those pretty pink bikes with a woven basket in gotham. “come on, let me put you to bed.” 
you don’t remember bidding goodbye to dick but you were sure you had. you didn’t remember moving from the table to the door, practically being pushed by jason. however, you did vaguely remember uttering the words, “you need’a say g’night to blondie.” to which he responded with. “who?” 
that confused you because he genuinely seemed confused, as though he hadn’t even remembered the colour of the hair belonging to the girl he’d just spoken to. had he really been that uninterested or was he just putting on a show?
you did remember, however, sitting on the cold tiles of jason’s bathroom floor after he’d undressed you, stripping you to your undergarments and placing a long tee over you. you remembered the way his hands gently did it, soothing you as he went, uttering soft words and assuring you that it was okay.
in no way did he make anything sexual, instead, he was merely caring for his ‘best friend’. 
you remembered the way the tears began rolling down your cheeks as you dry sobbed pathetically, the drink getting the better of you.
jason had been tending to your face, a cotton pad covered in micellar water gently cleansing your skin, softly dancing it across the makeup that covered your face and wiping it clean. he wasn’t used to taking off makeup, obviously, so this was a little difficult for him. but he got used to it.
it wasn’t the first time he’d done it for you.
only difference was this time he was comforting your cries at the same time. “shh, shh, c’mon, tell me wh’s the matter, baby?” all soft and gentle with you as you couldn’t do anything but let the liquidy tears fall down your face, trying to avoid his gaze. “c’mon, tell jay wh’s wrong so he can fix it.” 
but how were you to tell him that the reason you were crying was because you loved him? 
you couldn’t, so instead you opted for shaking your head, words practically heaving out of you as your breaths became laboured and uneven. 
jason could tell where this was going. 
he’d comforted you on multiple occasions, some worse than others but that didn’t change the fact that he knew you from the inside and out. “hey, hey, breathe, pretty girl, breathe.” 
he’d taken your head in the palm of his hand, gently placing it against his chest so that you could feel the way his own chest rose and fell and hear the way his heart beated against his ribcage. he knew this was a good thing to do when it came to you, this was a reminder that he was alive and by the way you could hear and feel it too, surely, you were alive as well. 
it was grounding. 
“in with me, c’mon, angel.” breathing in and you followed, trying to take as much air into your lungs as you possibly could. “‘n out, good girl.” he praised, hearing the shaky breath that you still let out.
when your breathing had regulated back to normal, there were still tears streaming down your face and you couldn’t help but cry and whimper pathetically. you could blame the alcohol or you could blame the fact that you’d gotten so caught up in play pretend that you’d forgotten yourself, who you were and what you really meant to jason. 
“s-shouldn’t have come.” you muttered through your desperate cries. “shouldn’t have come here.” while the messy tears coated your perfect skin. 
it broke jason’s heart. you were his bubbly girl, always grinning and smiling, laughing at jokes you didn’t understand, grinning at people you didn’t even particularly like, you were nothing but good. you were gold, if the colour was a person, it was you. your heart was as big as a heart could get yet you know what they say, the bigger the person, the harder they fall.
and sometimes your poor golden heart simply couldn’t take the mean world. 
“what?” suddenly, his own heart began to shatter. he suddenly felt as though it was his fault. you were acting like this because you didn’t want to be here, because either something had happened or simply you were too overstimulated due to the gala itself (poor oblivious jason still hadn’t got it right.) whatever the case, he’d been the one to drag you along here and now he felt guilt pang his heart heavily. “no, no everyone loved you, what are you talking about?” 
your teary, broken eyes glanced up at him, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away. 
perhaps it was the too much alcohol that had entered your lightweight system or perhaps it was the way he looked so… dreamy, even through your blurred vision. his pretty sapphire eyes gazed down at you, so full of concern and worry. he cared so deeply about you, you could tell from his eyes. the slope of his nose, his pretty lips drawn into a frown, his sharp jaw line and the little curls of his hair, white streaks at the front on wide display.
“i’m a fool.” you uttered, so pathetically, full of realisation.
once again, his black brows furrowed in confusion yet also so full of concern. he wanted to understand, to help you but you were proving it awfully difficult, not that he blamed you. “what? you’re not a fool, what are you talking about?” 
you sniffled, practically blubbering. “i told you i’d have to be a fool to love you ‘n if that’s true then i’m a fool.” you hadn’t a notion of what possessed your mouth to move, possessed you to speak. “‘m the biggest fool in the world because i love you so much ‘n im scared i’ll never be able to stop loving you.” 
and the biggest problem was that you were sure he’d never feel the same. 
“is that what all of this is about?” he had to stop himself from chuckling at you, otherwise you’d take it the wrong way and the tears would begin again. instead, his eyes softened and his hand came down to move the hair from your face. “you should have just told me, princess, all of this could have been avoided.” 
you stared up at him with those dazed, confused eyes. 
“when i told you i didn’t want a girlfriend.” he confessed. “it wasn’t because i didn’t want one it was because i didn’t want one that’s not you.” you had to blink at him, thinking it was all merely a dream. “i love you too, sweet girl, always have, always will.” 
and you were sure it was a dream. 
“jay?” 
“yeah?” 
“will you tell me this again when i’m sober?” 
a chuckle. 
“of course, angel.” 
“promise?” 
“i promise.” 
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main masterlist/jason's masterlist
a/n: oh jaybird, how i have missed writing you!!
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nia-jul · 3 months
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LATE NIGHTS AND STAR-CROSSED MARGINS
Jason Todd is the most beautiful boy in your lecture. Luckily, fate lands you a seat next to him
college!au, fluff, pining, happy ending
——————————————————————
This has to be some form of epic karma.
You’ve never been late to a lecture before. At least, not this late, where you’re sure Professor Levine will not hesitate to slam the two double doors in his face when you eventually make it there.
You’d overslept horrifically. After a night spent with your roommates over board games and shitty wine in cracked mugs, you’d been too tired to remember to turn on your alarms. You didn’t regret it. It was hard to find time to spend together, and even if it was just a couple of hours of UNO, it was nice to catch up. Unfortunately, the drinks your friend Wendy had kept pouring into your mug had lulled you into the best sleep you had in a while. Which, unfortunately, was interrupted by a confused knock on your door, a concerned friend wondering why you were still in bed so late.
Now, without a shower and the outfit you’d worn yesterday, you were practically running to the hall to try to make it in time. Feverishly checking your phone, watching the minutes go by, as you finally stop outside the doors.
You pause for a second. Do you knock? Just walk in? Professor Levine wasn’t necessarily strict. He’d never kicked anyone out before, but you’d never seen him angry. Would he even be angry? You didn’t know. God, you were being so dramatic.
You push open the door. Immediately, a couple dozen eyes lock on you, dishevelled and anxious at the door. You could die. Really and truly, just drop down on the floor and die. You glance at the professor. He just nods slightly, and you take that as a sign you’re in the clear. You start walking to your seat, relief flooding your veins, to see that it’s taken.
Your second dosage of karma. You’re not sure what you’ve done to deserve such cruel treatment. You sat in the same seat every say. Far enough front the front that you didn't get picked on, and far enough from the back that it didn’t look like you were hiding from Levine. You quickly scan the room and see the only spare seat is right at the very back. Right next to Jason Todd.
You knew who he was. Everybody in your literature class did, everybody at your university did. He was six foot tall, with hair that curled perfectly over his brown eyes, and a body that looked like it had been carved by the gods. As if that wasn’t enough, he was also nice. Boys that attractive were usually paired with a big ego and an obnoxious personality, but he had neither. He kept to himself, was polite and respectful. Jason Todd was like every guy you’d spent hours reading about and analysing for your English classes, the perfect man in every way.
Which, of course, meant he was also horrifically out of your league.
You take the awkwardly long walk to the back. You drop your things on the floor, and sit down. He flashes you a small smile and your knees feel weak. You hope the one you give him back makes you look normal. You fiddle around with your things, bring out your laptop and books, and sigh.
Crisis averted. You made it in one piece. You tap the power on button, turning your laptop to face you. Wait a little bit. And nothing.
It's out of charge.
You tap furiously on the button, as if it will somehow make something happen.
“Fucking shit.” You whisper, digging in your bag for the charger, that you know is not there.
You feel eyes on you, and you look to your side. Jason is watching you, an amused smile gracing his lips. You feel heat rise to your cheeks and you look away.
“Sorry, I just- I forgot my charger. And my laptops out”
He hums under his breath, low and deep in his chest. “Not your day, is it?”
“No, it’s really not. It’s where I take all my notes.” You slump in your chair, rubbing a hand over your face.
He slides a piece of paper over to you. “It’s okay. Professor Levine won’t call on you if you sit this far back. He takes offence. Makes him think you’re avoiding him.”
“Surely that would make him want to call on us.”
Jason shrugs. “He’s different like that.”
You huff. You open your anthology. You’re studying Keats, one of your favourites. Despite the constant reminders that your chosen degree would get you nowhere, you love literature, evident by the copious amount of annotations you’d done. It wasn’t part of the syllabus but you thought it was fun.
A hand reaches over, hovering over your book. Jason’s, bigger thank yours, with a large watch around its wrist. Not that you were checking.
“Can I look?”
You nod. You try not to watch his deft fingers slip between the pages (try not to think about where else they could slip) and write meaningless things on the sheet of paper he’d given you. You can’t focus on the lecture, only your need for his approval of your work.
“This is incredible. You did this all on your own?” His eyes don't leave the paper as he continues to flick through.
You laugh nervously, “Yeah, I’ve got a lot of free time.”
“Oh, I love this one.”
He points to Modern Love. You smile, nodding excitedly.
“Yeah, that’s my favourite! I don’t know why, but there's something so cool about one of the best Romantic poets ever writing a poem about how people put so much pressure on romance, you know? Especially in the era he was in.”
You mouth shuts. You laugh nervously.
“Sorry. I'm rambling.”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s cute.”
You don’t have time to try and dignify a response through the shiver that runs down your spine, because Professor Levine clears his throat loudly from across the room. You look over and he’s staring right at the two of you (who are considerably closer than you were when you’d sat down).
“Is there something more interesting you two are discussing? Like perhaps how to show up to my lectures on time?”
Jason snorts and you duck your head. “Sorry, professor.”
The rest of the lecture is spent like something out of a high school classroom. He scribbles notes in the margin on your paper, and you draw little stars across the page. You’ve not spoken before, but you spend the whole time whispering to each other. He shows you his favourite poems, and you pretend they aren’t yours too.
It’s a shame, really. Deep down, you wish you didn’t get along with him so well. If not for the way he looks right at you when he speaks, breath fanning over your face as he leans down to say something, but for the fact you’ll never speak again. The two of you will pack your things and part ways, and you’ll spend the next lesson in your usual seat with a fully charged laptop, thinking about him. He’ll just be another story your friends will drag out of you over a glass of wine, the day when you sat with the sexiest boy on campus.
The lecture ends, and the two of you leave side by side. You avoid eye contact with your professor and pause outside the door.
“Thank you for the paper. And letting me sit next to you.”
Your hands awkwardly grasp at the straps of your bag. Of course today of all days you’d look so messy. You’re not wearing makeup, and you know your shirt is wrinkled. He looks effortless in a shirt that curls over his biceps oh, so perfectly.
“It’s no problem.”
Silence spills between the two of you. You nod once.
“Well. Bye, Jason.”
You turn to walk away, but you don’t make it far. A hand grabs your arm. You look back, and it's Jason, all smiling and nervous. He drops your arm, and shoots you another one of his boyish grins.
“Do you want to get some coffee? We can go over our notes. Get you back on Levine's good side.”
You should probably say no. Boys like Jason are the kind that could ruin you.
“Yeah. I’d love to.”
—————————————————————-
AUTHORS NOTE
my first oneshot!! I hope you all like it, and plz leave requests or if u want a part two 🩷
328 notes · View notes
a1307s · 5 months
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Ice Pop
(Jason Todd Smut)
[Art is not mine! Credit to Crow Kid]
Requested by: dogma0325
Keys:
Y/N: Your Name
Word Count: 4262
Warnings and/or Pre-notes:
Cursing
Semi-public sex
Oral (female receiving)
Fingering
Degrading
Begging
Creampie
———————————————————————
     "Lady Wayne?" Alfred calls, pulling my attention away from the case file I've been looking over for Bruce.
     "Hm?" I hum out, glancing at Alfred across the kitchen before turning back to my work.
     "I made ice pops for the boys and you. Would you mind giving them out for me so I can start dinner?"
     "Why'd you make ice pops?" I ask, getting up and heading towards Alfred. Sat on a tray in front of him are big ice cubs packed full of different fruits, each with a popsicle sticking out the bottom.
     "You guys do not drink enough water so I'm hoping this will help."
"We drink plenty of water," I answer back, picking up the tray.
     Alfred sighs, turning his attention to me. A deep frown is present on his face making his aging stand out even more on his face. "Lady Wayne, please tell me you don't actually think that."
     "Of course not," I tell him, following it with a laugh. None of us are good at taking care of ourselves in any way, much less in our water intake.
     I walk out of the kitchen, popsicle tray in tow as I head towards the second story of the manor. It doesn't take long to run into one of the boys. Damian is doing God knows what on the staircase. He's prancing around the steps, his katana in hand as he swishes it around. "What's up, Short Stack?" I poke at him, making sure to leave plenty of room between us.
     "Practicing inclined swordsmanship," Dami answers, following it with a click of his tongue.
     "That makes complete sense," I lie between my teeth. What is up with this kid? "Maybe let's not play with swords on the stairs though," I tell him, holding out one of the ice pops.
     Damian takes the pop, pairing it with another tongue click. "I'm a trained assassin. I think I'll be fine practicing on the stairs."
     I hum before hopping up the stairs, passing him on the way. "A trained pain in the ass too," I mumble to myself once he's out of earshot. I walk down the hallway, stopping outside Dick's room. I gently knock, which is responded to quickly with the door swinging open.
     "Hello!"
     "Hello Y/N," Richard answers, glancing down at the tray in my hands. "Did you make popsicles?"
     "Alfred made us ice pops. He says we don't drink enough water," I explain, holding out another pop.
     "Hey, Tim?" He asks, ducking his head back into his room. "Do you want a popsicle?"
     "Fuck ya!" Tim answers, quickly joining us at the door frame. "Thank you, Y/N," the younger boy says, taking a treat from the tray before disappearing back into the bedroom.
     "Thank you," Dick repeats, also taking an ice pop before disappearing too.
     That was pretty easy. I thought it would be more of a struggle to find everyone. With the manor being so big and the cave downstairs being even bigger, sometimes it's a struggle to find people. Maybe I'll get lucky, and Jason will be in his room too. I let the thought push me toward Jay's room. Once outside, just like Dick's room, I knock. Unlike Dick's room, I don't get an answer. "Jason," I call, knocking on the door again. There is no answer, so I decide to peek inside. The room is empty, with no sign of Jason at all.
     Maybe I'll get lucky, and he'll be in the bat-cave. If not, then he just won't get an icicle. I make the short walk down the hallway to Bruce's study. Once again, I knock just in case. You never know if Bruce has a business partner in there or if they're work or league-related so it's best to be prepared. After a few seconds, the study door opens, and Bruce's grizzly bear form takes up the space. "I brought you a snack!" I chirp, raising the tray some.
     "Thank you for the ice-pop," Bruce says, a soft smile covering his face as he picks out which one he wants. "Jason is down in the cave if you want to give him his or I can take it down."
     "No, I'll take it down. I'm soaking in my break time from the Riddler case."
     Bruce chuckles some before stepping aside so I can walk through. I squeeze through the gap, making sure not to drop the last two popsicles. The older man closes the door behind me before sitting back down at his desk. I take my time walking through the room towards the clock, looking over all the bookcases pilled full of books. I mess with the clock, getting it to unlock as I look over some of the titles. I need to come snoop through here for a good read once I finish my book.
     The clock pops some as it swings open, the old wood worn and stressed from constant use. I slip through, making sure to close it behind me in case Bruce gets a visitor. The cave echoes as I walk down the metal stairs, my slippers sliding a bit as I walk. You'd figure by now I'd wear shoes with more traction, so I don't slip on the constantly soaked floors. Oh well.
     "Jason!" I yell, walking down the last few stairs before standing steadily on the cave floor which is also soaked. Go figure. Who'd guess that a cave in the 'rainy city' of Gotham would always be wet and cold?
     "Y/N!" Jason yells back, his voice echoing some off the walls.
     I turn my head in the direction of his voice. Jason is tucked under one of the bat-cycles, working away on who knows what. He's always tinkering on something; The bikes, the bat-mobile, the bat-plane, something. I make a quick - but careful - pace towards the makeshift garage where all the bikes are stored. The 'garage' is more so a fancy shed than a garage. The left of it is stocked full of motorcycles. The right on the other hand is Jason's work bench that's always packed full of tools and different parts. The front of the shed - other than the door - is a wall of glass windows. You can see the left from the computer but it's harder to see the right. It's even harder considering the bat-mobile is usually parked in front of the windows on this side, like it is today.
     "I brought you an ice pop," I tell him, setting the tray on the workbench before leaning against it. The edge of the bench digs into my back a bit but it's worth getting the pressure off my feet. For once it's not overflowing with random shit.
     "Did you?" Jay asks, shifting some to get out from under the bike before deciding not to. He pulls on something, causing the metal to clink against the floor. "That's not good," he mumbles to himself more so than to me.
     "Probably not," I answer back, crossing my arms over my chest and smiling some.
     "Ya, ya, ya," he grumbles, sliding himself out before shifting to a sitting position. His eyes glance over me before settling back towards the bike.
     Ever since the failed mission last week Richard swears there's been tension between Jason and me. On my last mission, I got shot a few times which has benched me from on-field missions. It's part of the reason I've been looking over case files for Bruce. Jason swooped in and played hero, which ended in a feverish kiss. We've both ignored it; not because of me though. I keep trying to talk about it, but he just brushes it off. Since it doesn't seem like he cares much I've settled on it just being heat from the 'you almost died' moment. It's nothing more than that, a misstep that happened because emotions were high. Though Richard swears up and down that, we like each other. Maybe so, but Dick likes drama so he can be a pot-stirrer sometimes.
     I watch Jason tinker a bit more, making sure not to stare at his shoulders too long. Jason is an asshole most of the time, but even assholes can look good when their mouths aren't running. Especially tall assholes with a physique that reviles Bruce's. "Are you going to eat an ice pop?" I ask, glancing towards the computer stored in the cave. I can't see much of it, but I can see the top of someone's head, probably Tim's or Bruce's.
     "Are you going to harass me about it until I say yes?"
     "On behalf of Alfred, yes."
     Jason half sighs, and half chuckles before standing up. "Well, I can't say no to Alfred," he says, walking towards me. Jay stops in front of me, less than an inch between us as he reaches behind us to grab a popsicle off the tray. A mixed smell of leather and oil rolls off of him, filling me up with fuzzy warmth. "Is the other one for you?" He asks, pulling his arms back in front of us, both ice-pops in his hands.
     "Mmhmm," I hum, glancing down at his hands. I am not petite by any means of the word, but I feel small when around Jason. Anyone would feel small around the brick of a man.
     Jay hums back, popping his treat into his mouth before holding mine out to me. I should be an asshole and push him to acknowledge the kiss. The thought rolls around my head for a second as my eyes flicker from Jay's face to his hand. I bend my head down some, taking the pop into my mouth as he still holds it. I make a show of it, wrapping my hand around his wrist as I slide down some. I keep a hold of the pop, loosening his grip on it before lifting my head back up; the icicle still wrapped up in my lips.
     Hood's jaw is set tight, eyes drinking me in for a couple of seconds before he turns on his heels and walks away from me. Ya, Richard is definitely wrong. I push the event out of my head, focusing on the stuff I've been reading about Riddler, figuring the new environment will help my thought process. I roll over the information, absorbing the melting ice, occasionally pulling it out of my mouth so my teeth don't get too cold. The curse of having sensitive teeth. The room is mostly quiet, though, occasionally Jay drops something, cutting through the silence and causing Tim to pipe up and ask if we're okay.
     Maybe I should recommend checking out some of Riddler's old hideouts. He's on the run again after attacking one of the Joker's men. I don't see him finding a new hideout on such short notice. Maybe he's staying with Two-Face, they're pretty close. Though I think Bruce already checked out-
     "Can you stop that?" Jay asks sharply, pulling me out of my thought process.
     I pull the ice out of my mouth again, causing it to pop louder than I meant to. "Can I stop what?"
     "That," he hisses, eyes throwing daggers at me. "You're being annoying."
     "Oh, I'm sorry," I mumble, going back to my treat but making sure to be as quiet as possible as I enjoy it. I wonder if the Riddler just fled town? Probably not, if he hasn't before, I don't see him doing it now. Maybe we should just interrogate Two-Face about it. Even if Bruce cleared all of Two-Face's hideouts, that doesn't mean he doesn't know where his buddy is.
     "Y/N," Jason husks out, his voice a lot closer to me than it was before. I look up from the floor to be met with Jason once again barely an inch away. "You should go back upstairs."
     "Why?" I ask around the ice-pop, cranking my neck some to look into Jay's eyes.
     He rolls his jaw some, his eyes hard as they stare down at mine. "You're being a distraction," Jason finally answers, taking the popsicle out of my mouth and throwing it on the workbench. "Go upstairs."
     "Hey! You just ruined my treat," I whine, dropping my hands to my hips as I glare at the taller ex-robin.
     He rolls his eyes, starting to walk away as he mumbles to himself, "Maybe I wouldn't have ruined it if you did that to my-" The sentence is cut off as Jay sits back down on the floor.
If I did that to his what?... Oh... Oh... No, I did not... I didn't get into Jay's head. I mean, I teased a bit, but I didn't think it was that bad. I barely did anything. Well, unless me 'annoying' him wasn't normal annoyance and was that kind of annoyance instead. Was it?
     I hum, pushing myself off the workbench, and start heading towards the door so I can test my theory. "Maybe if you'd ask like a big boy I would," I mumble as I slide past Jason, quickly slipping out the door after the words are out. I leave the door open, giving me the chance to sneak a peek at how he's reacting. Jay's head shoots up at my words, his eyes glancing from my descending form and the project in front of him.
     "Y/N," he calls, quickly climbing to his feet and chasing after me. His big hands wrap around my shoulders, pulling me back. "What did you say?" he asks, shifting himself so I'm trapped between him and the bat-mobile.
     "What did you say?" I repeat, shoving my hands into the back pockets of my pants.
     Jason stands there, hands still heavy on my shoulders as he stares down at me. "I... didn't say shit," he finally pushes out, taking a quick glance at my lips before staring back at my face.
     "I didn't say anything either then."
     Silence falls between us, the only sound being Tim tapping away at the computer and occasional yaps from the bats hanging from the ceiling. "You... you are a fucking tease," Jay finally whispers, his fingers featherily light as they skip down my arms.
     "How am I tease?" I ask, making sure to sound cocky. I'm finally going to get him to talk about the kiss. I win.
     "Sitting there blowing a popsicle... Looking at me with doe eyes..." Jay's hands jump from my arms to my waist, still light as they dance across the waistband of my jeans. "Spending the last week walking around with almost nothing on. Pretending it's so there's easier access to your bandages," he mumbles, his fingers working at undoing my pants.
     "Jay, I was just trying to get you to talk about - Oh!" My words are cut off by a soft moan as Hood dances his fingers across my clothed pussy. My hand falls back to his wrist, wrapping my fingers around it tighter than I did earlier as the other one slides around his shoulders to latch onto the back of his neck.
     "Oh?" He repeats pupils dilated, hiding some of the green as he watches my reactions. His fingers are still light as they circle my clit, down to my hole, before circling back up again. My legs close some, the feeling of Jason's forearm muscles being pressed into my thighs. "You know, since bringing you back to the cave, seeing how cute you looked all bandaged up and planted in that hospital bed-" he starts, tilting his head down and whispering in my ear, "- all I've thought about is how amazing it would be to serve you. Living on my knees so I can please you. It must be so painful to get yourself off with five bullet holes littering your stomach. Tell me, can you bend enough to finger yourself, Baby?"
     "Jay-"
     "I asked a question," he says, shifting his head over so that our noses are gently pressed together. "Yes-" he starts, sliding his fingers under the right side of my panties, "-or no?" Hood finishes, switching his touches to the left side of my underwear.
     "No," I breathe out, releasing his wrist to join my hand on his neck alongside the other one.
     "Hmm," he hums out, placing a quick peck on my lips before lifting his head again. Jay drops his hand from my pussy, wrapping both of them around my thighs to lift me. I whine from the lack of friction, getting a chuckle out of him. He's careful not to press against my stomach, avoiding causing pain to flower from my healing wounds. Jay's lips are light as they slide over my neck and his hands heavy as they set me down on the hood of the car.
     "Jason you can't, we can't-"
     "I can, you just have to let me," he mumbles, sliding his hands to my back and dipping down my pants. His hands are warm as he pushes my pants off of me, and gentle as he lifts me to pull them down my legs before discarding them to the ground. "Let me taste you, please?" Jay whispers, placing a kiss behind my ear before trailing down my jaw and neck again.
     "But Tim's in the cave," I whine, shoving my hands into his hair and letting my fingers get tangled in it.
     "So?" He asks, sliding his hands under my shirt, hooking his thumbs on the hum to push it up as his hands rise.
     "Ow, fuck don't do that," I hiss when Jay slides over one of my wounds.
     "I'm sorry," he murmurs, pushing my shirt over my head and letting it fall onto the hood of the car. Once my shirt is off, Jason's mouth is instantly attached to me. He makes quick work, sucking and kissing any skin he comes in contact with as his hands slide back down to my thighs. The chillness of the car aids in the need that's building. My thighs are peeled apart, and my panties are soon descending my legs as well.
     "I cannot wait until you're better."
     "Why is that?" I ask, my fingers tugging on his hair as his fingers ghost over my clit.
     "I want to hear you sucking on me like you did that popsicle," Jason says, stealing another quick kiss before he falls to his knees. "Take your bra off," he orders, glancing up at me before looking back at my cunt, "I want to see your tits as I enjoy your pussy."
     Reluctantly, I remove my hands from his hair, unclasping my bra and tossing it on top of my pants before planting them back on his head. Jay's eyes stay locked on my tits as he makes long, slow licks over my clit. His hands are rough as they grip my thighs, stopping me from locking them around his head. "You taste so good," he whispers, poking his tongue into my pussy before latching his mouth around my clit.
     Jason enjoys himself, watching my boobs move around as he sucks and licks at me. It doesn't take long for the knot in my stomach to tighten and soon enough I release onto Hood's tongue. He hums happily to himself, taking his time licking my mess up. "Bruce is going to be pissed when he sees the mess you left on his car," he teases, followed by a soft chuckle.
     "Jay," I whine, tugging on his hair to try and get him to crawl up my body.
     "Y/N," he whines back, further teasing me but doing as I want. "You're acting like a whiney little thing. What happened to the badass that teased me with a popsicle? Not so badass anymore, huh?" His fingers dip into me, curling occasionally before he pulls them back out of me. "Are you a needy brat? The spoiled Wayne baby that's not used to being told no?" Jay's fingers speed up their pumping as he degrades me, kisses being littered across me as he speaks.
     "Jason, please," I whine again, dropping my hands to his waist to try and pull him closer to me.
     "Please what, baby? What do you want?"
     "Please?" I try again, drawing out the word.
     "'Maybe if you'd ask like a big girl I would' give you what you want," he says, throwing my words back in my face.
     "Fuck me, Jay," I mumble, working my hands at his belt and pants to try and undo them. I do manage to get them undone and waste no time sliding my hand in. I softly paw at his dick, impatiently waiting to hear him make the noises he's been forcing out of me.
     "What a needy little thing. Less than ten minutes ago you were oh so worried about Tim seeing us and now look at you. You're naked propped up on a car, begging me to fuck you as you give me a handy. It turns you on, doesn't it? It turns you on knowing at any second someone could see me filling your pussy." I hate to admit it but he's not wrong and he knows it, which makes it even worse.
     Jason chuckles a bit as he pulls his fingers out of me. I pout at the emptiness left inside me, which gets me a deep, slow kiss from the anti-hero. "Don't pout baby, I'll fill you back up in no time," he promises, wrapping his arms around my legs again to lift me. Jay props me back on my feet before turning me around and bending me over the hood of the car, being careful not to push the metal into my bandages.
     The cold metal sends shivers through me and causes my nipples to harden almost painfully. In no time his fingers are sliding back into me, continuing to gently push me towards my orgasm. The jingling of Jay's belt fills the space between before his fingers are lost, and his tip is pressed against my hole to mess with me. He gently pushes his head against me, pulling back before it goes in. "You're teasing," I finally whine, shimming my hips back when he places his tip against me again.
     Jay chuckles but lets me get the extra inch from my movements. "You teased first," he reminds me, placing his hands on my hips. The roughness feels nice against my smooth skin as he tightens his grasp. He uses his hands to keep me in place as he slides the rest of the way in. The stretching sends continual waves of pleasure through me, rewarding Jay with a soft moan. His hair softly tickles me as he leans down to litter my back with kisses, using them to fill in the time he's given me to adjust.
     After a minute, Jason slowly pulls out before bottoming out in me again. His pace stays slow and soft as he uses me. The zipper of his pants rubs against my thighs every time our hips clash. "Jay, I need more," I whimper, trying to buck my hips back but his hands stop me from doing it.
     "You don't need more, you want more," he answers, a smirk forming in his kisses. Despite the teasing, Jay gives in, keeping his pace slow but thrusting into me harder. I can feel myself tightening around him and his thrusts getting sloppier. "You're such a fucking tease," he mumbles as his pace quickens. "Filling my work room and my head with the sounds of you slurping and sucking away on your stupid treat."
     "Jay-" I say, trying to get his attention as he thrusts push me closer to the car's grill than I'd like.
     "I know, baby," he mumbles against my shoulder before pressing a kiss to it. Jason's hands slip from my hips to my stomach, gently cupping my wounds and making sure not to add any pressure to them. "I'm so fucking close," he murmurs, his thrusts still inching me up the hood. His hands bump into the front of the car, adding slight pressure to my stomach before he adjusts his placement.
     Jason's thrusts gentle a bit as he slips one of his hands down to my clit, starting to rub circles into it. Mews fall out of me, mixing with Jay's heavy breathing. "I'm sorry," he mumbles against my ear as he pulls me back by my waist, shoving himself as far in as he can. His fingers keep circling my clit as he fills my womb. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he murmurs once my release comes and I tighten around him still tucked into me.
     We stay like this, Jason buried into me, his hands rubbing circles into my hips as he litters kisses across my back and I still hunch over the bat-mobile, my legs threatening to give out from under me if we don't move soon. "So, about our kiss the other day?"
     Jay lets out a deep laugh, smashing another kiss into my shoulder blade before slowly pulling out of me. The mix of our juices leaks down my legs, Jason's fingers rubbing it around my thighs. "Maybe we should worry about cleaning you and the Bat's car before we discuss that and this." Touché Hood.
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This may be my grief (but it's you who's made a mess of it)
love is not designed for the cynical - series masterlist here
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pairing: jason todd x reader (gender neutral)
length: 1.7k
genre: hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending
warnings: reader has a panic attack, there's a lot of blood but it's the clean-up part, Jason is riddled with self-hatred and guilt but he's making progress
a/n: ok enjoy kiss kiss <3
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Your heart lurches as you stare at the television, your hands clutching the couch cushions on either side of you as you listen to the presenter on the news station that you'd idly turned on for background noise. He's talking about a current fight, some scuffle between some vigilantes and Two-Face downtown. He mentions Redhood - mentions that he was seen going down during the fight and wasn't seen getting back up again.
Suddenly, the walls of your apartment feel small - too small, closing in on you as the air leaves your lungs in a punched-out gasp. He's not getting up. He's not getting up and he's gone again. You stand abruptly, knocking the TV remote off your lap and letting it clatter to the floor as you begin to pace back and forth in front of your couch, trying desperately to keep listening to the news anchor and what he's saying about the current situation.
Maybe he's wrong, you think desperately. Maybe he's alright and no one really knows what they're seeing. Maybe he's… dead. Maybe he's dead again. Maybe you'll never ever see him again. Maybe you'll have to bury him again.
You drop into a sitting position on the floor ungracefully, leaning against the couch as you reach blindly for the remote, suddenly needing desperately for the news anchor to stop updating you on the situation. You fumble with it once you have it, your hands cold and numb as you turn the television off.
The silence, you realize immediately, is worse
The thought of having to mourn him a second time, you realize, might be more than you can handle.
The city moves outside, cars honking and pedestrians shouting - the normal turmoil of Gotham. You fit right in, you suppose, amongst the panic and the pain and the death that permeates this city. You almost, almost wish you'd left all those years ago when Jason became Robin - when you told him it was a choice that would kill him and you threatened to walk out.
And now, in the dull silence of your apartment, your gaze level with your coffee table that has two empty mugs, you wish that you really had left all those years ago… and you wish that you had never come back.
The thought punches out whatever air is left in your lungs as guilt, cold and heavy and choking, settles in your gut. You bring your hands to your face, digging the heels of your palms into your closed eyes as you try to get a hold of your rattling breathing. You had, at times, considered what your life would be like if you'd never met Jason, or if you moved on and gotten over him after his death - his first death. The thought makes nausea roll through your stomach. Of course, you'd thought about it. But you'd always come to the same conclusion - you were lucky to have met him and to have known him as you did. Even if it meant carrying his ghost with you for the rest of your life, you were blessed to have been loved by him.
Now, though, it doesn't feel like a blessing. Now, it feels like a rotten, undead curse, something dragged up from some unholy pit to pull him away from you again, and again, and again. There is nothing lucky in this life and there is nothing lucky in this love.
A clattering on your balcony rips you from your spiralling thought as your head snaps around to see Redhood heave himself up over the railing, stumbling with fatigue and obvious injury. You lurch to your feet, desperate to get to him, desperate to know he's alive, desperate to stop him from seeing you on the floor of your home, grief-stricken and terrified because of him. 
No, you think. He doesn't need to know about that. And fortunately, he's dazed enough from whatever god-awful fight he was in that he doesn't seem to really notice anything beyond the way you rip the door open and pull him inside, your hands flitting over his armour to gauge his injuries. Not at first, anyway. He lets you sit him on the couch, lets you shush his worries about staining the fabric with his blood. He doesn't consider the fact that your soul is already stained from him. Not yet, at least. 
It's not until his armour is off, sitting in the bathtub and dripping crimson blood onto the white porcelain. It's not until you've checked him over, the large gash along his side cleaned and the blood flow staunched. It's when you begin stitching him up, your hands trembling ever so slightly in a way that sends concern shooting up his spine. It's not concern for himself - he's had you do this countless times, and he's done it to himself with much less finesse even more times. But something wrong - something must be wrong for you to be unsteady, for your shoulders to be tense and your eyes to avoid his. The pain from his side is nearly blinding, but there's nothing that sobers him and centres him as resolutely as you on your knees in front of him and afraid. 
"Baby?" his voice is quiet, the breath leaving his lips in a tired sort of sigh that he can't help.
"Don't distract me," is your only response.
"Talk to me," he pushes in that gentle, guiding way of his.
But you say nothing. The silence drips between the two of you as you tie the last stitch, cutting the thread and rubbing your hands with a towel. Jason makes a mental note to buy you new ones as he watches the white fabric blooming red as you try to scrub the blood off your hands. 
But your skin doesn't come clean. There are places where the blood - his blood has dried around your fingers and you rub the towel on your palms until he reaches out, worried. Then, and only then, does it hit Jason, and he's not sure if it's blood loss or fear and guilt that makes him feel lightheaded.
It's his blood on your hands. And they're not coming clean.
He takes the towel from you gently, tossing it onto the other end of the couch before he grips your hands in his own. He's not sure who's trembling more between the two of you. He's not sure who's more blood-soaked. 
"I saw it on the news," you say quietly as you rub your thumb over the knuckles of Jason's hand. "They said - they said you were dead." Your breath hitches. Jason huffs, tightening his hold on your hands.
"Those reporters don't know what the fuck they're talking about most of the time - you know that, baby. They always get it wrong." He soothes, his voice low as he looks down at you. He's still sitting on the couch while you kneel before him, like an altar of violence that you pray to.
"I know, Jason. I just -" You take a deep, shuttering breath.
"What, baby?"
"I thought I'd lost you… again. I just - I couldn't take it. I couldn't bear it." You laugh, then - a humourless, hysterical sort of thing. "All this time you've spent trying to protect me and you're the thing that ended up hurting me the most and… no, I - Jason, I didn't mean that. I'm sorry, I didn't mean that, I was just scared."
But Jason's already lurched away from you, letting go of your hands as if you've burned him and pulling back in a way that stretches his stitches and makes him wince. You, on the floor in front of him, made the infamous Redhood flinch, made him recoil in fear and self-hatred and pain.
"I didn't mean that, Jason," you say again, a firmness in your voice as you surge up onto your knees. Your hands aren't trembling now, he notices distantly, as you lean forward to take his face in your palms and press your forehead against his.
"I hurt you," he says numbly.
"No," you respond instantly. "Life hurt me… life hurt us both. That's not your fault. It's never been your fault."
Jason sighs wearily, letting his head fall forward so that his forehead is resting on your shoulder as his eyes slip closed. There's a dull, throbbing pain in his head and his side aches and he's choking on too much hatred to stop you when you press kisses to his palms and his knuckles and the side of his head that you can reach. 
There is too much weariness in him to stop you from loving him.
"Let's… go to bed," you say quietly, feeling the way he slumps against you as the fatigue begins to take its toll on him. "Come on," you coax. He lets you stand, takes your outstretched hand willingly as you guide him to bed. He lets himself sit on the edge of the mattress heavily, slouched over himself as you sit in front of him, a damp towel in your hands. 
Jason thinks of the irony of it all as he watches you take his hands in yours, wiping the blood from them that you left on him. Granted, it's still his blood, but you're the one who made a mess of it. He thinks of that as you finish cleaning him up, listens to the sounds of you scrubbing your own hands in the bathroom sink as he falls sideways into bed, haphazardly tugging the covers up around him.
When you finally slip into bed next to him, reaching out so that you can cling to him like a lifeline, he wonders if maybe the blood on his hands isn't such a big deal, after all. Maybe it's the blood loss talking, maybe it's the post-fight dizziness muddling his judgement. Or maybe there is something to be said for the two of you cleaning the blood off each other's hands… again and again and again.
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millyhelp · 2 months
Text
Jason had just woken up. the large arm stretched out so he could pull you by the waist and snuggle you into him. Your side of the bed was empty and cold. Your cell phone wasn't on the nightstand.
Where are you?
Panic broke out in Jason's mind, making the post-sleep haze disappear. You never wake up before him.
Jason stood up with only his black Versace underwear on his body. He went to the bathroom, you weren't there, he went to the office and you weren't there. He always kept weapons hidden around the apartment and this was a time when he picked up a 9mm that was under a corner table in the apartment's hallway.
"Where are you?..." Jason's voice sounded shaky. His hands were tight on the gun in his hands.
He went to the kitchen and walked through the living room, guest room, you were nowhere to be found.
Did she leave me? Could it be that she abandoned me? What did I do wrong?
Jason ran his hands through his hair. No sign of you. Not your purse, not your keys, nothing. For a moment he thought you were just a dream, but no, the nail marks that burned on his back and the hickeys along his chest and abs proved otherwise.
The sound of the door unlocking made him alert at the front door. It opened and there you were. A sigh of relief left Jason's lips. He ran over to you and pulled you towards him.
"Jay-oh, hey..." The bags that were in your hand fell to the floor and you struggled to close the door and hug Jason then. Thick tears that Jason had no idea he was shedding before you arrived wet your shoulder.
"Where-" a sob left Jason's lips "Where were you?"
"I just went to buy things to make you lunch, babe..." You ran your hands welcomingly along Jason's back. He was holding you tight to his body. "You were sleeping so peacefully that I didn't want to wake you up."
her smell. she is here. she didn't leave. I'm not alone. it's her. she is here.
"I'm here now, it's okay." You kissed his neck sweetly and he whimpered. "I'm here..."
"Dont leave me... please..." he whispered
"i won't. im sorry for not waking you up." Jason looked into your eyes. The arms were still around you, you felt cold metal on your back. "What is that?"
Jason remembered he still had the pistol in his hand. He showed you and you looked at him in surprise.
"I thought someone took you from me." The face, red and wet with tears, spoke with melancholy. "I would kill anyone who tried to take you from me."
your heart pounded in your chest. He really thought someone had taken you or that you were gone. You took the bags in your hands. "Come with me. Let's leave this in the kitchen and I'll go back to bed with you, put that gun away, it's not necessary." You said sweetly and kissed Jason's cheek.
Jason nodded. He still had one hand on your waist, he wasn't going to let you go anywhere soon.
you walked to the kitchen and placed the bags on the counter. Jason put the gun next to the things and hugged you from behind while you took the things you bought out of the bag.
his large slender fingers caressed your belly while he watched you attentively and in silence taking things away. Jason's thoughts were lost on you and only you. the way you moved, everything about you gave him peace of mind, his mind wasn't an enemy when you were present.
"a penny for your thoughts." You said with a smile on your lips.
"You."
"Me?" You giggled and felt Jason nod and then felt him rest his chin on your left shoulder.
"Yes." He whispered. "What will you do?"
"a brazilian dish. feijoada is the name." You sigh when you manage to finish taking everything out of the bags.
"hmm." Jason mutters. "can we go to bed now?"
you took Jason's hand and guided him to the bedroom. You only realized that he was only in his underwear when you took off your dress and lay down in just your bra and panties.
You opened your arms to Jason and he buried his face in the middle of your breasts. "Would you kill a kidnapper with just your underwear on?"
"Mhm..." He muttered and you giggled. Jason squeezed your hips, pulling you closer, if that was possible.
"Don't ever do that again..." he said quietly "Never leave again without at least telling me, please..."
"I promise." You kissed Jason's forehead and he buried his face in the valley of your breasts again.
he was finally at peace again and could go back to having a peaceful sleep while in your arms.
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pandorasb1tch · 6 months
Text
𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐫│𝒥𝒶𝓈𝑜𝓃 𝒯𝑜𝒹𝒹 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇
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❣ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: smut, one-shot, dom!Jason Todd x fem!sub!reader, car sex
❣ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: mature, harsh language, smut/sex
❣ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1, 182
❣ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: This is my first time writing smut in 7 years :') also first tumblr post ever omg// go easy on me i beg <3
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"Does it have to be right now Jay?" I whined, practically being dragged by the tall, dark-haired man down the aisles of the Gotham City Mall. Through the crowds of people passing by, my eye managed to catch a store while passing by, "Jason! Wait! You know I wanted to stop in Bath & Body! Their new Fall scents are out Jason!" I pleaded, but to no avail.
"We can come back after, darling. But this? This can't wait." He turned his head over his shoulder enough for me to catch his flustered expression, his pace quickening as we neared the front doors of the mall. I let out a huff in annoyance, following him to the parking lot.
Ten minutes earlier, I had brought Jason to a lingerie store to buy new panties, as a majority of mine had ended up ripped and torn due to a certain someone. I had taken a peak at some of the fancier get-ups, modelling them for Jason, when I managed to snag a glimpse of a certain prominent feature leaving a dent in his pants, and a very red and embarrassed face. And now, I'm getting pushed through the backseat of my car.
"Jeez, Jay, someone's excited," I chuckled, not quite sure if I was more talking about him or his friend between his legs.
My laughter was cut short as he climbed over me, smashing his lips into mine and fiddling with the button of his jeans. "Shut up, god you're such a tease y/n, you know that?" He growled in between sloppy kisses, beginning to pull his pants down over his thighs.
I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck, knowing damn well my devious little plan had worked. I pulled away, "but Jay, we're in public, we're surrounded by cars, what if-" I was cut off by a rough hand covering my mouth.
"Exactly. All parked cars. Nobody will see, and if they do, then they've earned themselves a free show. Now, be a good girl, and do as I say, understood?" He practically stared into my soul as he made his demands. I nodded, staring back into his lust-filled eyes, "Good. That's my girl." He spoke with a dark tone.
He moved his hand, slipping his two fingers into my mouth, softly plunging them in and out while his other hand worked on pushing my skirt up above my waist. Pushing my panties to the side, he withdrew his fingers from my mouth and brought them down to my entrance, sliding up and down my folds slowly, mixing my saliva and slick all over my puffy pussy. I whined, begging for him to push his fingers in through my wetness. He let out a cocky scoff, shoving his two fingers deeply into my throbbing cunt. I let out a whimper, squeezing my eyes and throwing my head back. His fingers curled and danced inside of me, brushing and rubbing against my sweet spot, his calloused thumb circling my clit as I groaned in ecstasy.
"God, you are fucking perfect, princess," he groaned, quickening his fingers. He grabbed my chin, forcing it back up and went back in for a sloppy kiss. Moaning into his lips, I struggled under him as my orgasm neared, grabbing his arm tightly and pulling his hair. He let out a low groan, pulling away and retracting his fingers from my desperate pussy. I whined at the loss of his touch, before my panties were ripped from me and discarded to the front of the car.
'Well, back to the lingerie store after this,' I internally sighed, but my thoughts were cut off by the head of his dick rubbing against my sopping folds.
"Fuck princess... you're so wet for me, how cute," he huffed, rubbing his length against my bundle of nerves.
I whined, "please Jay.." trying to force my body closer to him.
"Yeah, that's it. Tell me what you want baby, tell me what you want daddy to do to you." He commanded, teasing his tip at my entrance, looking down at me almost as if I were his little pet to boss around.
"I.. I want you in me baby. Please, fuck me," I begged, whimpering at the emptiness inside of me. Jason released a breathy smirk, slowly sliding as much of himself as he could into me, an inch or so to spare. My mouth shot open, a squeak forcing its way out of me as I grabbed the seat for support. Jason began to slowly pump in and out, a low moan escaping his mouth as he gripped my inner thighs.
"Fuck princess, you're so fucking wet for me. Such a dirty little slut, aren't you? Submitting to my cock so easily?" He moaned again as he sped up, "fuck... you like that you pretty little slut?" He started to pound harder.
I nodded my head, "fuck- yes daddy," squeezing my eyes shut and gripping onto his arms.
He lifted my legs over his shoulders and around his neck, forcing my shirt and bra up with his free hand, "fuck baby, that's it. You're such a good girl." he began to pound into me relentlessly, his rough hands finding my tits and thumbing my nipples as he forced in and out of me.
I was a hot, moaning mess. My hands struggling to hold onto him, nails digging through his skin. My eyes rolled back and my mouth hung open lazily as I babbled nonsense mixtures of moans and pleads. No doubt the car was shaking like an earthquake from the outside, many odd noises erupting from it.
Jason reached one hand down and rubbed at my clit while his cock roughly slammed in and out of my swollen cunt, the sound of slapping skin and strings of moans and curses drowning out anything happening in the real world. "Fuck daddy.. gonna... cum!" I managed to squeak out in between hasty pants.
"Good girl. Cum for me princess, I want you to cum all over my cock you pretty little mess." He pumped harder, keeping his pace at a quick thrust. I gripped his arms, hard, letting out loud and intense moans and whines. "That's it, that's my good girl. Cum with me you little slut, just like that." My walls tightened and the long-lasting knot in my stomach exploded with bliss, stars clouding my vision as I let out my sweet release in a fit of curses and sobs. Jason groaned as he pumped his thick warm liquid deep into my cunt, slowing with each pace.
We sat silent for a moment, the sound of panting and steamy windows feeling like the only presence for a moment. Jason pulled out, pulling his pants back up over his hips. I whined at his removal but began to pull my skirt back down.
"I love you, darling," he leaned down and pecked me on the lips.
"I love you too, my sweet," I smiled and sat up
He smiled sheepishly, "alright, now let's go get you your pumpkin spice perfume or whatever."
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do you guys get the title cause its like a quickie and a detour since its in a car and im funny i swear :D
I hope this was okay!! Any suggestions for prompts/characters shoot me a suggestion! <3
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undcrthood · 4 months
Text
"i won" part 2, jason todd x fem! reader
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part 1
summary : Your rivalry with Jason started years ago, when you were teenagers and the incident hadn't happened yet. It all started because back then you wanted to be Robin and the mantle was given to him, silly and unimportant arguments turned into a snowball that grew more and more as the years went by, until it finally collapsed. A mistake that cost you a mission triggered a shouting match in your apartment that ended in a battle of rampant kissing, but neither of both of you wanted to let go of your pride.
words : 811
warnings : MDNI, nsfw , sexual content , pnv sex , unprotected sex, cum inside ( be responsible and don't do this ) , pet name ( "princess" mostly ) typos, not use of "y/n".
red's notes : i'm trying to be more active so i'll be posting little one-shots
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Jason leaves sloppy kisses on your neck and shoulders, his right hand supporting himself while his left hand holds your leg wrapped around his waist, he pushes his member into your cunt slowly, letting you get used to his size, enjoying every sigh and moan he gets from your lips. It was bigger than you imagined, you could feel it stretching you as it slid inside you.
"Are you okay, princess?" Jason asks you, his voice husky and agitated, his tone stupidly sweet. You could almost feel him smiling as his kisses climbed up your jaw, it's obvious he was enjoying every damn second of this, and he was going to make you enjoy it too. "So tight, taking me so well." He whispers in your ear, though he almost says it more to himself, he leaves a hickey on your neck as he moved in and out of you, torturously slow.
The delightful sensation of your cunt squeezing his cock was intoxicating, his movements began to get faster with each moan and squeal of pleasure your lips. He would take his time another time, right now Jason needed to let off steam the years he spent jerking off thinking about you after every fight you two had. Jason hides his face in the crook of your neck, unable to silence the desperate grunts and moans that escaped his throat. The movements of his hips against yours became frantic, his cock barely out of you, he didn't want to not be inside you now that he had you right where he wanted you, so he adjusts his position so that the tip brushes that sensitive spot inside you that made you see stars just a while ago.
Once again your mind feels fuzzy and unable to have thoughts outside of how well Jason is fucking you. Your fingernails scratch his back, drawing a pleasurable growl from him as he whispers sweet but dirty things to you.
"I should have done this so long ago…" Jason murmurs between grunts and moans from both of you, it was the only thing echoing in the room, aside from the squeaking of the mattress. Jason notices a change in your breathing, your walls struggling not to contract around him as he pushes himself inside you, a chuckle escapes his lips before he kisses you possessively. "You better not be holding back, gorgeous, because otherwise I'm going to have to fuck you harder until you learn your lesson." He says against your lips, his tone implying it's an order, as he increases the speed of his thrusts. "Cum in my cock, princess, please." He whispers in your ear, the hand he had on your thigh he slid it to your center, rubbing your clit to push you further to orgasm.
He needs this, he needs you to cum with him inside you to know that what he is doing is right, that you like it and it is satisfying you. Cause Jason wants to know everything about you and how to make you feel on cloud nine.
And then the little knot you felt in the lower part of your belly unravels, releasing your orgasm. Jason drowns out your moans with kisses, at the same time drowning out his own because of how good your walls feel twitching around his cock. He can't help himself and cums inside you, but stays inside for a few seconds before pulling out of you, he hides his face in the curve of your neck, almost afraid to look you in the eye, as he inhales your scent his hands take yours and intertwine his fingers with yours.
"Are you okay, princess, was I too hard on you? You're very quiet…" Jason asks in a breathless whisper, his lips still brushing your neck.
You nod slowly, panting, your hands squeezing his as you try to say something after all this time - something other than Jason's name or some compliment about how well he was fucking you - then you tilt your face down, giving him the hint to kiss you on the lips.
"I'm fine, Jay, I'm just…" You say, your words hanging in the air as you try to get your mind right. "I take it back, you don't have a small cock." You say playfully, remembering the fight earlier and your comment that was the one that sparked all of this. Jason lets out a hoarse chuckle, kissing you on the lips before saying anything else.
"How about another round? Just so you're sure." Jason whispers against your lips, you can even feel his smile, you laugh softly, your legs wrap around his waist and you pull him a little towards you.
"One more and that's it, I have to work tomorrow." You reply between small kisses, though deep down you know this won't stay just one more round.
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jasonstodger · 9 months
Note
Could u write a fluff/angst piece where Jason breaks into the wrong house or something but ends up staying & bonds with the reader over having scars and shared trauma?
jkajskajksja YES YES YES! Thank you for the ask, anon &lt;3
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"UNCORRUPT ME"
pairing: Jason Todd x ungendered!reader
summary: non-graphic smut | scars | referenced child abuse | trauma bonding | awkwardness
word count: 1.9k
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“What are you doing in my room?”
The figure stares at you, their face masked, void of emotion. Unreadable. 
“You didn’t lock the window,” he says. His voice is rich and deep, and so, so rough it almost burns. “You… are not who I expected to see.”
You stare at them nervously. You’re sat up in your bed, your dorm a dingy, dark envelope of self-pity. Those searching white lenses trail over you, lingering on the many thick, deep white scars, jagged and cruel, that litter your stomach and ribs like rivers of silver over your skin.
“What do you want? I have no money. I’m a student.” Your voice is eerily calm, your heart beating uncomfortably in your chest as the figure takes a heavy step towards you.
“I’m not here for money,” comes the thick reply. His boots slide across your floor again. “What happened to you?”
You swallow, thick and uncomfortable, wetting your lips. You can’t see the man’s eyes beneath his mask. It’s unsettling: “My father tried to kill me 6 years ago. He stabbed me 34 times.”
Your voice is quiet and void of emotion as you repeat the tragedy that continues to haunt you. The figure regards you silently.
“Why did he try to kill you?”
“Who are you?” You ask, little louder than a whisper.
“I’m…” he hesitates. “Jason Todd.”
You rub your sleep-tired eyes, looking at him through the darkness. “Aren’t you dead?”
“I was. But I’m better now,” he says again in his low timbre. He approaches cautiously, scanning the scars on your body. “Your father isn’t here now, is he?”
“He’s in Arkham. They fried his brains.”
“I see.” He continues to stare at you, and you can almost feel his palpable need to take your pain away. “You don’t have anyone with you tonight?”
You stare at him silently, your cheek twitching at the irony of his words. “No one wants to go home with the chick who’s dad sliced her up.”
Silence. And then:
“I’d go home with you.”
You grin wrlyly, but there is no happiness there. “The man who broke into my dorm says he’d go home with me. Tell me why that doesn’t fill me with comfort?”
“Because I broke into your dorm.”
“Bingo.”
He creeps closer. “I won’t hurt you.”
“Okay,” you whisper, watching him closely.
“... Can I kiss you?”
His mask is lit by the moonlight as he kneels down in front of you, the hard edges of the helmet glistening. Your eyes soften, heart skipping a beat.
“No.”
“I understand,” he says lowly. He continues to stare at you, the mask making it impossible to see any subtle facial changes. But his voice grows gentle. “Would you… let me stay with you tonight?”
“Why?” you whisper, voice shaky.
“You look lonely.”
“I’m used to it.”
“Just because you’re used to it doesn’t make it okay,” he says softly. 
“I could say the same to you about breaking into people’s homes.”
He tilts his head. “Maybe,” he decrees, and he motions to the spot on the your bed beside you. “May I?”
You stare at him for a moment, trying to decipher him. “... okay.”
He shuffles under the covers, not touching you. For a while, you both lie there in silence.
“My name’s y/n,” you say suddenly, gently. 
“I’m Jason,” he replies.
“Yeah… you’ve said that.”
“Oh. Sorry.” He looks at you, trying to find the right thing to say and do. 
Your voice becomes quiet. “It’s okay,” Your legs touch, and you swallow. “Do you have scars, Jason?”
“Yes.” His voice is low, and he keeps his gaze low too. Like he can’t bring himself to look at you.
“Cool.”
“Is it cool? I guess… it’s cool how similar we are. We’re both people broken by the world.”
You don’t reply for a moment, sinking into the bed. You can feel him beside you. It’s strangely comfortable, despite knowing nothing about him. But you can understand that he’s also damaged goods… Just like you. He reaches out, fingertips touching your arm: “We don’t have to talk, if you don’t want to.”
“I don’t mind talking,” you say quietly. “It’s a good distraction.”
He appraises you. “Can I ask you something?”
“Okay.”
“Why’d you let me stay?”
You glance at him, his face obscured by the dark and his mask. “I think I was hoping you’d finish the job,” you admit, quiet and vulnerable.
“I’m not here to do that. I’m not supposed to be here at all.”
“That’s alright,” you whisper. 
He pauses, thinking about his next words. “Have you ever wanted to get back at the person that hurt you?”
“I think about killing my dad everyday,” you admit, and your pinkies brush gently against each other.
“Would it make you happy, y/n? If you did?”
“No…”
“Why not?”
“It wouldn’t change anything. I’d still be scarred.”
“Yeah…” he turns his body in your direction, moving a little closer. You turn your head to face him. “Can I hold you tonight? I… I’d like to feel what it’s like to hold someone again.
“Okay,” you whisper, a little emotional.
He rolls over and pulls you into a warm embrace. He holds you, not wanting to let go. His body radiates heat, and he rests his head against yours. Your hair brushes his skin, and he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. 
In that moment, you’re both content.
You wrap your arms around him, pressing into his warmth as you, too, close your eyes. “This is nice.”
“You feel good,” he whispers into your hair, his hand caressing your face gently.
You smile, small and sad. “So do you.”
He shifts his body, moving even closer to you. His hips move against yours gently. It’s like nothing in the world matters except that your skin is touching his. Your breathing becomes a little ragged, and you both stay like that for a few moments, just breathing and touching.
You cradle his jaw in your hand, tracing the grooves of his mask, moving to take it off: “Can I?”
“... sure.”
You gently peel off his mask, revealing his face. You stare at him in the dingy lighting, and your fingers brush over the ‘J’ scar carved into his cheek. His breathing speeds up a little bit. Scars are a reminder of when a person is at their weakest. To be allowed to touch them by someone just as damaged as you… so tender and sweet… it feels like blasphemy. 
“You’re very beautiful,” you say quietly.
“So are you,” he whispers back, his hand moving to touch the long scars on your chest. Your breath hitches, almost inaudible.  He moves his fingers back and forth, tracing the ragged lines of raised skin, watching you to see how you react. Your heart races under his hand. “You’re so soft… can I… can I do more?”
You swallow. “If you’d like.”
His body moves against yours, and you press yourselves together, your breaths becoming laboured. His hand moves from the scars on your chest, down towards your hips. You rut against each other, clothed and urgent.
You can feel his body pressed against yours, and it’s like the weight of the world is leaving you. You feel alive for the first time in a long time. And you want to make him feel the same way. Your hand reaches beneath his clothes, feeling the heat and tension building between you. 
He lets out a shaky gasp, your bodies moving slowly against each other. You can feel him, and he can feel you. You both breathe harder and harder, your breaths catching in your throats, as your eyes stare into each other’s souls. 
You can feel everything. Every heartbeat, every sigh, every breath, every twitch and moan. And you know he can feel it too, as your bodies begin to move faster, harder. The two of you are together in that moment, and the world shrinks away.
You move with more urgency, writhing against each other like testy teens. Bodies move as one, your hands searching for every sensitive and intimate spot. There is no more doubt or fear or anger. Just two broken individuals finding each other in the night.
The heat and sweat of your bodies mingles - two shattered and lonely souls finding something less than love in each other, just for a moment. Your heart beats in your ears. 
He breathes quietly against your neck, moaning lowly with each move you make, and his free hand tangles at the back of your head, holding you against his skin as the pressure builds between you.
“Jason,” you moan quietly into his throat. Just for the while, you feel whole. He presses against you, desperately, breath catching in his throat, louder and more needy with each grunt and muffled whine.
Everything else disappears, and the world falls away.
There’s only the two of you - two people alone in the dark, broken and damaged, finding each other and trying to fix what’s left. 
When you finish, you don’t cry out. There is a sharp exhale, and a tightening of muscles. Jason shudders as he grips you tightly, and he holds you, his body sliding against you for a few seconds longer, before he slowly pulls away. Neither of you say anything for a moment as you pant and try to catch your breath. 
The silence is interrupted only by your breathing, soft and quick breaths as you lie still in each other’s arms. You can feel his heart beating beating hard against your own chest, as if it’s still trying to keep up with the rush. 
You’re not sure what to say, staring at him with lidded eyes. “That was… nice.”
He nods his head. You’re not sure if nice covers it, because right now you feel more alive than you have in years. But you don’t say this. You’re not used to feeling this way. 
You don’t want to ruin it.
“You should probably go to sleep,” Jason says quietly.
“Will you still be here when I wake up?” you ask gently, knowing the answer already.
“No. I have to go,” he whispers. The answer is more brutal thant you’d expected. He tries to smile at you, but it feels like a lie. “I’m sorry.”
“I thought so,” you say, choked.
“I…” he searches for something to say, taking your hand in his and caressing your skin with his thumb. “I want to stay with you. For a moment longer.”
“I don’t want to fall asleep,” you admit quietly.
“Can I ask you one last thing?” 
“Yes.”
He caresses your face gently with his hand. “Can I… kiss you? Before I go?”
You swallow, leaning closer. “I… yes.”
And he does. He kisses you passionately, like that moment means everything. Like he doesn’t want tonight to end. He closes his eyes and lives in your lips, enchanted by your breath on his skin. There’s a moment, there, when you almost forget who are, where you are: You lose yourself in him.
“I’m glad you decided to break into my dorm,” you whisper as your lips part, bittersweet. You sound fragile.
“Me too.” He looks at you, wishing he could stay. But you know he can’t. “I should go.”
You nod silently, and he gets up slowly, regrettably. He watches you as he backs away. 
“Bye, Jason,” you say quietly, staring at him from your bed.
“Goodbye, y/n. I… I won’t forget you. Thank you.”
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poetatorturadaa · 1 month
Text
Have my back, everyday, fels like home.
jason todd x fem!reader, light angst?, hopeful ending. soeees, I had this saved in notes for a long time, it doesn't have an exact beginning and nor an end, but I wanted to share it. English is not my first language, so let me know If I missed something, I hope you like it. <3
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Jason looks at her and his eyes soften with something else, something like tenderness as he watches her take the strawberry from the bowl and chew on it. It's strange for him to think that she was ever interested in romance. It's not that he thinks romance doesn't suit her—he's seen her living with his siblings, she's a sweet, warm presence who can bring out the best in anyone. Hell, even Damian's. But she always plays the role of friend, of platonic confidant. No one seems to be able to see past her pretty face and realize how alone she feels.
Jason is not a poet, nor does his training as a vigilante offer many insights into romance. But he can see that there is something in her that craves attention, to feel loved. It's not Jason's place to fill that void, or at least, he's not supposed to. He then looks away and continues cleaning his motorcycle.
A weight floats in the air. Y/n doesn't recognize it, but the silence becomes too pronounced. It's almost as if even the cartoon on her phone knows there shouldn't be such an absence of words.
Jason's gaze moves back to Y/n's face, who remains focused on the screen. It's like it's easier to pretend that a cartoon is more interesting than whatever else is happening in the room. There's a strange electric hum in the air and her skin tingles when his gaze meets hers. There are so many different possible futures, each of them tugging at her heart in a thousand different ways.
He couldn't say anything, let the energy dissipate and pretend it never happened. He might give in and confess a secret that could turn everything upside down. He could engage in a monologue about the state of his soul.
Instead, he speaks plainly, as if none of these things were possible or even worth mentioning. "Do you want another strawberry?"
Y/n looks at Jason and feels a strange kind of kinship with the silence that hangs between them, even if he's doing her job, making the sound of metal scraping against stone. Still, she can't let herself get comfortable with the silence between her and Jason, and her thumb flicks across her phone to change the cartoon episode she'd just finished. "Yes, of course," she begins, looking at Jason, "So...what were you saying about Dick?"
"Dick seems to think you're keeping me balanced," he says quietly, taking a couple of seconds to extend the now half-full bowl of strawberries toward Y/n. There's a subtle change in her tone, a slight drop in sharpness. It's subtle, but is there anyway. "He thinks you... tame me or something." He lets out a soft, almost imperceptible laugh, though that's completely accurate to her relationship with Dick.
In Jason's eyes, Y/n could only be described as the sunsets that seem to be longer in summer, a cup of coffee with the perfect amount of sugar on a winter night, and the sweet, pungent aroma before the rain. She is able to bring a strange feeling of calm to anyone who crosses her path. And as a close friend of the Bat-family, she is one of the few entities capable of talking reason to them. Y/n has the unique gift of being able to keep all of their tempers in check.
She lets out a small giggle at Jason's words, amused by the way Dick perceives her, oblivious to the fact that Jason actually thinks of her the same way too. "He must know something to think that." She scoffs, her voice as reserved as ever as she turns off her phone and puts it in her back pocket, turning around and placing her chin on the back of the couch to now look at Jason as her hand goes to grab another strawberry from the bowl he's holding. He extended it to her.
"He has this idea that you... calm me down" Jason continues, looking at her now. His expression has softened. "He has told me more than once that as long as you are in the game, I will be fine. That you will keep me in line and make me less destructive."
He pauses, turning his gaze to the metal of the motorcycle, which is now in perfect condition to be used again. "It's actually a little insulting," he says, his voice thick with sarcasm. Y/n brings out the best in everyone, but it seems like no one believes she might be the one who needs to let her guard down.
Y/n discovers that she admires Jason more than she should. Maybe just a second longer, but Y/n is detail oriented. And that extra second was incredibly countable. The vigilante, and his gray-green eyes, tired and constantly expressive, in which she felt that if he looked for a second too long she would get lost again. Distracting hands. His expression was so different and complicated to put into words.
"I think we all need someone to take care of us." She responded softly, expressing between the lines her inner desire to have someone to take care of her too.
Jason's expression changes again. It is something so subtle that it cannot be pinpointed. But the weight is still there. And it's almost as if an entire novel has been written since his last words.
He looks up again and again his expression is hard to read. "I doubt anyone has ever taken care of you." His tone is soft, almost calm. It may seem like a shot to the heart, and maybe it is. But he says it sincerely, he knows that even though he and the rest of his siblings, even Bruce, or many other superheroes, are always there, she doesn't have a person to take care of her like she wants to be taken care of. And she deserves more than that.
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spidernuggets · 5 months
Text
Jason Todd on Patrol:
jason: *sitting on the ledge of a building, swinging his feet, smiling at his phone*
Dick: "RED HOOD"
Jason: *still looking at his phone* "uh huh?"
Dick: *Is getting shot at left and right* "A LITTLE BACKUP WOULD BE NICE"
Jason: *still looking at his phone* "Uh huh..."
Back at the Batcave:
Dick: "WHAT THE FUCK JASON?"
Jason: *STILL on his phone* "huh? what what the fuck"
Tim: *Snatches jason's phone, glances, rolls his eyes, and gives it back* "Y/N"
Dick: 🤨
Jason: "What? :("
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sleepyangelkami · 5 months
Text
FADE INTO YOU (j.t)
a/n: did i listen to fade into you by mazzy star on repeat while writing this? yes. do i recommend you do the same while reading? absolutely!
pairing: jason todd x reader
summary: slow dancing in the kitchen with domestic bf!jason
warnings: tooth rotting fluff, intended lower case, nothing I write is ever proofread ❤
words: 1,186
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jason's days off were rare, but when they actually happened, they were the best. even hero's like him had to take a couple rest days. today was one of those days.
the living room was dull aside from the little lamp to your right, next to the couch you were laid across, head on your boyfriend's chest as he read the words scrawled across the page slowly. his voice was soothing, so much so that you actually found your eyes falling shut, head gone limp against him.
jason would swear on the bible that he was a grinch, that he hated christmas more than anything. but only you would know how big of a lie that was. frost covered the windows, completely blocking your outside view although the curtains did a good enough job anyway. your christmas tree was sat in the corner of your living room, tacky an decorated in different coloured baubles along with the tacky red and silver tinsel and the blue and gold lights that were never turned off.
it was nights like this, you snuggled up in your christmas pijama's, as he was, matching of course, with christmas decorations sprawled across the entire room that he realised just how much he loved it. though, he was sure that there was one thing he'd always hate about this time of year. the goddamn cold.
when he realised you had fallen asleep on him, he placed the book on the side table, standing up and drawing the reindeer blanket over your shoulders to keep you warm.
his feet moved towards the kitchen where there was little to no light. it was attached to the living room, so the only beacon of light was the tree and the lamp.
his eyes glanced towards the clock that wrote half seven. on his days off, you spent every minute together. today, you had both travelled up the country for a little christmas shopping before stopping home to see the christmas lights. you were going to go for dinner too but you both decided you were too cold and you wished to be home as soon as possible.
the fire lit, heating up the entire house. he realised how long it had been since you'd eaten. he himself wasn't too hungry but he knew how you'd be, sleepy or not.
when you did wake, it was to the smell of food and the sound of low music. the music had been on before you'd fallen asleep, low and muffled but even so, you could hear it. you found yourself smiling into the armchair of the couch, eyes strained on your boyfriend's back as he cooked whatever it was he was making.
he was in a red fluffy pijama bottoms with pictures of little christmas trees, presents and ginger bread cookies along with a plain black t-shirt. you wore the same bottoms only with a black crop top, clinging to your skin comfortably. when you first mentioned matching pijama's, he quite literally laughed in your face.
now look.
as good as the food smelled, you were really more bothered on who was standing in front of the frying pan.
jason had sensed you waking up minutes ago so the feeling of arms wrapping around his wide torso didn't frighten him. "hi, sleepy." he grinned, looking down at the food he was stirring.
"hi, jay." your head buried into his back. "what're you doing?" you mumbled sleepily.
"makin' you some dinner, baby." your stomach felt empty, hungry but you'd seemingly always forget around him. perhaps it was because he made you feel so... full. "wanna sit by the couch 'n watch a movie while i make it?"
despite the fact he couldn't see your face, you shook your head. "jus' wanna be with you." when you got sleepy like this, he was all you wanted. not food, not a movie, not even your family, you just wanted him, your jay.
he hummed with a smile as he turned around, grasping you in his arms. you let him move so that your head was in his chest, not his back. he allowed the food to cook. he held you like that, moving one hand to turn up the music slightly. it was a slow, pretty song that reminded you a lot of him. it was funny because it reminded him of you too, you were both just too shy to say it. "feelin' okay, princess?" you nodded your head dumbly. "day wore you out?" he could read you like a book. if that was true, you were his favourite storytale.
you hummed this time, allowing him to slightly sway your bodies to the song. he did it slowly, so slow it took you a second to register. "what are you doin'?" you mumbled, lips turning up at the corners.
"me?" he feigned shock. "I'm not doing anything, angel." though as he spoke, he led you away from the oven and stopped between it and the counter. you stood in the middle of the kitchen with him.
with one hand on your waist, he used his other to pick up one of your own, your left one to be exact. you'd danced with him many times at one of the wanye gala's. but this. this was different.
this time, the song was one of your own, one that made you smile and think of him, your jason. this time, there wasn't hundreds of eyes on you, whispers through the crowd about jason todd, bruce wayne's son and his 'date' were you his girlfriend? or just an escourt? how long had you known one another? who were you?
none of that mattered now.
you could breathe in and breathe out. all you could smell was jason's cologne and the cooking off in a distance. the sound of the music was relaxing, slow but your feet moved with jason's. this was slower than you'd ever danced with him before, including the slow dances at the gala.
with your head on his chest, eyes closed shut, you could hear the low humming of jason with the music. the small whisper of his voice as the words of the song began. it was quiet, but enough for you to hear.
as the music slowed to a stop, you moved away slightly, glancing up at the man you called your lover and loved him you did. he smiled down at you, his entire world.
his hand moved to cup your face, other one brushing his fingers against your own, dancing upon your skin as he kissed you slowly. in that moment, you felt your knee's actually go weak. you kissed back, of course, lips slowly moving against his own.
he pulled back, lips in a tight grin. "you up for some dinner?" he mumbled, quietly.
you nodded your head, completely overcome with him. "can we watch the muppets christmas carol while we have it?" you loved that movie, as did he.
he chuckled quietly, pressing another chaste kiss to your lips. "of course, princess, go set up the tv." and that was exactly what you did.
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main masterlist/jason's masterlist
a/n: missed writing jay sm, please lmk if you guys have any suggestions (can be any character from any tv show and if ik them i'll write them)
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