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#jason todd x reader series
dxckgrxsonx · 1 year
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soo… can we get more dickpic storyline?? IM ON MY KNEES BEGGING YOU 🙏🙏🙏😩😩
okay. so this took longer than i wanted. on the upside, i've got about seven different scenes half written out because this fought me every step of the way.
Jason gets a little jealous in this one which i will explore in the next part ;)
MASTERLIST // SERIES MASTERLIST
**
“Do you have to go?”
Panic snaps tight like an elastic band around your chest and you whirl a full hundred-and-eighty degrees to face Jason, breath still frozen solid in your throat.
There’s a pout settled on his face, bottom lip pushed out just slightly, eyes downcast. He looks almost…pathetic really for someone who has the potential to be dangerous. A mean looking bruise grabs at his jaw and annoyingly, it almost makes you cave right there and then.
“Will you stop doing that!” You snap, pitching a tube of lipgloss in his direction. “The idea of dying from a heart attack is so embarrassing. I either die in an epic shoot-out, or I simply just do not die.”
Catching the tube with one hand Jason grumbles and flops face-first onto your bed, “I can’t believe you’re leaving me.” He whines, voice muffled by the duvet. “I bought us facemasks. You’re denying me beautifully moisturised skin. This is the worst thing you’ve ever done.”
“Aw, poor baby.” You mock, standing up from your dresser and draping yourself across his well muscled back. “Is this worse than the time I blew up your microwave? Or the time you asked me to look after your plants and I accidentally killed them?”
Grabbing a pillow, Jason reaches behind him and wacks you with it, “You’re a horrible person and you’re going directly to hell.”
Sniggering, you balance on your knees as Jason shifts underneath you. Once he’s settled so he’s facing upwards you seat yourself comfortably on his stomach. Jason looks at you with nothing but disappointment when you request his attention by sticking a finger in his mouth, but you ignore him and ask, “Will you be there?”
“Get your fucking finger out of my mouth before I bite it off.” He garbles.
“What was that? I can’t understand you.” Grinning to yourself, Jason rolls his eyes and sinks his teeth into your finger. He bites down hard enough for it to fucking hurt and you yell whilst yanking it free. “That was attempted murder. You’re definitely going to hell with me.”
Jason doesn’t reply and you feel the pause in the air. It makes you nervous and you can’t decide if it’s in a good way or not.
“You look really nice.” He suddenly blurts out, and you pause in your anxious examination of your now injured finger. He swallows thickly when you look at him like he’s grown another head, pink splotching clumsily across his cheeks. “But you’re missing something.”
“Yeah.” You agree, trying to control your voice without letting him know that your heart is shaking at the bars of your ribs. “A finger without teeth marks.”
The pink starts dipping to caress his throat and you shift just slightly on his lap, getting worked up about just how far down that colour could reach if you pushed him a little more.
Opening his palm, Jason reveals your lipgloss and he twists it open. You expect him to hand it over to you so you can apply it yourself, but Jason–forever full of surprises–reaches out his steady hand and goes to apply it for you.
His swipes with the wand applicator are precise and you rub your lips together to get them evenly coated, but you end up smudging a small blob of gloss at the corner of your mouth.
Jason’s lips quirk up at the edge and he silently wipes the excess away with the pad of his thumb before you get a chance to even raise your hand.
“There you go.” He says, and his voice is thicker than normal, heavier. “Now you look perfect.”
You find yourself lost for words.
It doesn’t happen often. But sometimes you find yourself grasping at thin air, letters slipping between your fingers like sand.
Well, that's not entirely true.
The right letters are there, but you just don’t know how to hold them yet. And you don’t know what would happen if you stopped hoarding them behind your teeth.
How strange that the fear of something unknown can keep you from being happy; how unbelievably human that is.
Touching the tips of your fingers to the bruise on Jason's jaw you sigh, almost like it’s causing you pain. The colour is dark–recent–not yet starting to heal. Jason exhales and tips his head to the side, baring his throat and letting you explore the edges of the bruising. His eyes slip closed and there's a yearning throb inside you swelling up at just how much trust Jason has in you to be vulnerable.
His hands come to rest on your thighs, thumbs digging into the soft flesh. Sweeping your fingers at the very bottom of the discolouration something catches your eye.
A thin white line stretching across his jugular.
It looks like he’s had this throat sliced open.
Pulling your hand back you say Jason’s name in a near horrified whisper and he turns his head to look at you. There’s something there, written in the lines of his face and the way he looks at you–like you’re everything–but neither of you say a word.
A sudden smile lights up your face despite the sharp wedge of something like grief in your chest and you plant a sticky kiss across Jason’s cheek, “Mwah!”
“Fuck you so much.” Jason says, shoving your head away and wiping the lipgloss from his cheek, but he smiles back at you, Lazarus eyes glittering. “For the record–”
“Oh no you don’t. If the next words out of your mouth are something stupid like, ‘for the record I know you ate the leftover pizza in my fridge last night’ then I’m not listening.”
“For. The. Record…” Jason starts again, “If you’re with me in hell. Then it’s not hell.”
“You’re such a fucking sap, Todd.” Shoving your entire palm in his face he makes a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat and swats at your thigh. “Sweet talk isn’t going to make me stay home tonight. I’m going out and it’s going to be fun!”
**
You’ve got seven messages to say your friends are waiting outside and you wrestle open your door with a growl then turn to face Jason who’s sprawled out on your couch.
“If I don’t text you by one–”
“I’ll come look for you.” Jason finishes. He’s got a mug of tea in his hands and he picks up the book he left on your coffee table the last time he was at your apartment. “Have fun! Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Pfft. I’ve never been stupid a day in my life.”
“Hey! Remember that time when you–”
“Nope!” You interject loudly whilst Jason laughs. “I’m leaving now.”
**
Your shoes keep sticking to the floor.
Resting with one elbow on the bar you sip at your drink and throw a glance around the crowded club. Bodies are jammed together on the dancefloor and as the music swells the crowd rises to match. The entire atmosphere is electric, the push and pull of thrumming bass and alcohol making your hips sway easily to the beat.
“Well hello there, pretty thing. Can I buy you a drink?”
Pointedly glancing down at the glass in your hand with a slight quirk of your mouth you look up and make eye contact with the guy standing beside you. The first thing you notice is that he looks completely out of place; like he would be more at home somewhere quiet. He fiddles with the sleeve of his shirt and you quickly realise that he’s nervous.
It’s almost endearing if not for the whole ‘pretty thing’ thing.
“God.” He says, laughing to himself and rubbing the back of his neck. “That was absolutely horrible–there’s literally a drink in your hand. I’m so sorry. I must admit, this isn’t usually something I do.”
Across the club you watch as your friends zero in on you, waiting for any sign you need intervention–or an escape. Just the knowledge that they’ve got your back is enough for you to loosen your shoulders slightly.
The air around you twists and swells. Someone else has your back too.
“I agree. That was horrible. I mean, pretty thing? Really?” Someone says from behind you, their voice eerily familiar and sharp. A firm arm snakes around your middle and the memory of having that same thick arm wrapped around you whilst you slept flashes bright behind your eyes. “She’s not interested.”
You've never heard Jason sound like that before. He sounds almost possessive, maybe even jealous and it feels like someone just jammed a taser into your ribs and shot you full of fifty-thousand volts.
“The fuck are you doing here?” You ask, leaning back against his chest, skin warm and buzzing. “But also, thank fuck you’re here. Did you hear that guy? Pretty thing? Seriously? I’ve never felt more objectified.”
Jason laughs and rests his head on your shoulder, “It was boring waiting for you to get back and I didn’t feel like doing facemasks on my own. What are you drinking?”
“Something fruity.” Comes your response and you lift the glass so Jason can take the straw between his teeth. “Are you sure you didn’t just miss me?”
Humming as he takes a sip Jason lets the straw go and turns so he can press his mouth against the shell of your ear, “And if I did miss you?”
Your whole body shudders at the tone of his voice and you just barely manage to stop the whine from coming out of your mouth. His arm tightens around your waist and you can’t deny just how good it feels to have him close like this.
“You could have just called. I would’ve come home, you know?”
“I did call.” Jason rumbles, and you pull out your phone to check. “See. I called you twice and you didn’t answer. You’ve really hurt my feelings.”
“Oh here we go again. You’re always talking about your feelings.” Jamming your elbow backwards and into his ribs, Jason recoils in offence. “I hurt your feelings when I stole all your socks. I hurt them when I burnt that cake in your oven. I even hurt them that one time I laughed when you fell down the stairs.”
“I can’t help that I’m sensitive!” Jason defends, the pitch of his voice touching the roof. He shifts to pinch your waist and you smack the back of his hand.
Patting his arm you spin around to face him, and when you glance up at him you suddenly turn thoughtful–emotional.
“You’ve just got a big heart.” You say softly, reaching up to brush your fingers through the white streak in his hair. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Jason pauses, and you let your hand drop back to your side.
“And yet you laugh at me when I fall down the stairs.”
“Of course.” You deadpan. “Because it’s really fucking funny.”
**
You took your shoes off a few blocks back and they’re hanging from your fingers as Jason gives you a piggy-back ride home. You were fine until you stepped one foot outside the club and then the hit of somewhat fresh air sent your head spinning.
“I really hope my ass isn’t out.” You mumble, head resting on his shoulder. “No one needs to see what underwear I’ve got on.” Jason sighs like every word out of your mouth causes him physical pain. “At least I hope I’ve got underwear on.”
“You are a goddamn disaster.” He says, mostly to himself. Shifting you further up his back when you start to slide down he grumbles, “For fucks sake you’re not making this easy.”
“I live to please.”
“I think I might actually hate you just a little bit.”
“Rude. Now you’ve hurt my feelings.”
“Now, now, pretty thing.” Jason mocks. “Having your feelings hurt is my thing, not yours. So shut up.”
Breaking out into giggles you tuck your face into Jason’s neck and sigh, “The only person I want to call me pretty is you, Jay.”
“Well I’m not going to do it now.”
Without thinking you sink your teeth into his neck and bite down hard enough for it to bruise. Jason stops dead in the middle of the street, his rough hands flex around your thighs and you honest to god hear him moan.
It sounds almost exactly the same as it does on the videos and you shiver.
“Y’make such pretty noises, Jason.” You praise, and run your tongue along the indents of your teeth in his skin. Goosebumps flare up his forearms and you feel him swallow. You wonder for a split second if he’s blushing again. You wonder how far down it goes this time. “My sensitive boy.”
Yawning loudly, you slump your head back against his shoulder, and Jason starts walking forwards again, his pace uneven.
“M’tired.” You slur, half asleep.
“Almost there.” Jason reassures, “My pretty girl.”
**
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red-ivory · 7 months
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Can someone give me some ideas for some drama / danger for my jason todd bot and my character? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 they are a couple. I'm running out of ideas 😭 there are only so many kidnappings I can squeeze into this bad boy haha
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reveluving · 1 year
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batfam + batmom + hugs 💗
warnings: pure fluff! (I just wanna give hugsss)
check out my batmom m.list!
your face squished against bruce's greek god pecs before melting his heart when you arms can barely accommodate his sheer size and with your pretty sparkly eyes as you shyly look up at him. not finding it enough, he gently tilts your head up by the chin to return your gaze
having a literal competition on who hugs the best between you and dick—he always says that your hugs are equivalent to your best-selling cookies
jason stopping by the manor and immediately giving you a hug, relishing in the comfortable silence and his mother's presence after a rough night
kneeling next to tim's seat before wrapping your arms around his tired frame, hoping to convince him to turn in for the night. you know he finally gives in when he leans in your hold
returning duke's hug with a tighter one despite getting caught off guard, but then getting over it when you feel his body tremble and tears staining your shirt
unable to resist squishing your cheek against cass' when she comes up to you without a word, only to open her arms in anticipation for a big ol' mother-daughter hug
damian not only tolerating your sudden need for hugs, but embracing it as well, which some would find the sight funny, for you would emit an aura of flowers and bubbles while his comprises daggers and death and yet, he returns your hugs with zero shame
giving steph a bear hug just after you returned cass', finding amusement in the former's pout for she, too, wants to be attacked by your motherly affections as well
terry glaring at his classmates who either whisper to their buddies about wanting a hug from you too or openly ogle at you—if the family heard about this, it's over for these idiots
giggling with matt as you swoop him up for a hug and twirling with him in your arms, filling the manor with the sounds of your joy—bonus if ace and titus joins your fun, running in circles and barking in excitement
babs comforting you by letting you hold her tight after finally being able to get ahold of family who's out patrolling after a heart-stopping moment when the connection somehow gets lost
alfred celebrating yet another milestone as your café reaches the targeted earning with you, always honoured to be a part of your life, for you have not only saved his, but the entire family in general
kate greeting you with a hug whenever she's invited for a big family dinner/holiday, always jokingly thanking you for keeping the family and especially her cousin in check
always making the mistake of kneeling whenever ace and titus runs up to you before falling onto your back when they literally jump into your arms, giggling as they lick your face as an apology
nuzzling your face into alfred the cat's soft fur as he purrs and curls in your arms, his tail swishing in annoyance if anyone tries to pry him off you
overall: batmom's hugs are a 12/10, would recommend 🤌🏻
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ravenna-reid · 1 month
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Ok but hear me out.
Jason Todd and Forensic Psychologist Reader.
Imagine you caught Jason's attention when some of his guys were randomly discussing who the best forensic psychologist in Gotham City was. After that, he made it his mission to find out everything about you, and in the process he ended up becoming sick with infatuation.
So now you've been, well, you wouldn't call it dating but you'd both been seeing each other for a few months. Up in your penthouse apartment, far from the common Gotham crime. It made Jason glad, the idea of you being so high up and far away from the dark alley ways and thugs. But what really made him sleep a little easier at night was the fact that he had installed new locks onto your windows and door.
So now you both laid there, tangled in your silk sheets. Jason was whispering sweet nothings to you in between kisses.
"My little psychologist." His lips locked onto yours before you pulled away.
"Little?" He stopped looking for your lips and finally opened his eyes to take you in. Even when you were trying to look annoyed you were gorgeous.
"I meant it in an endearing way. I promise."
"Well, your little psychologist has to go to work now." You teased as you began to manoeuvre your way out of his large arms. Jason quickly tightened them around your waist.
"No wait-" He said pulling you back in. Jason accidentally let that slither of desperation show again. But you loved it. "Stay, please."
Wry smile on your lips, you began to slip back into bed. "Alright, but only because it's you..."
You initiated the kiss this time as he melted back into your touch. Hands travelling around your waist to your back. Body pressed against yours.
"My little vigilante." You laughed, and he gave a smirk in return.
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spideytingley · 3 months
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my fic recs!
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marvel
peter parker
identity crisis by @heliads
bucky barnes
time after time (on-going series) by @intrepidacious
heal me, baby by @intrepidacious
first date, last night by @intrepidacious
little lion man by @wkemeup
these ties that bind by sweetascanbee on ao3
steve rogers
no other shade of blue by @barnesafterglow
love bites (series) by starfleetstgmgr on ao3
invisible string (series) by gracehateseggnog on ao3
pietro maximoff
hole in the wall by @sebsbarnes
realign by @astxrwar soulmate au
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percy jackson and the olympians
luke castellan
a place with you by @supercutszns
fighting chance by @supercutszns
rotten to the touch by @supercutszns
bleedin’ me dry by @atlabeth
i beg you (and you don’t understand) by @emiliehornby
daylight, part 2, part 3 by @tangledinlove
percy jackson
anti-curse by @kamaluhkhan
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dc
dick grayson
the moon will sing (on-going series) by minnieears on ao3
jason todd
window pains by @sanguineterrain
reflections of you by dizarys on ao3
romantics by @yourlocalcringydaydreamer
suds and buds (yeah, sure) (series) by sbambs on ao3
baby steps (on-going series) by @lightwing-s
she hates me (series) by minnieears on ao3
damian wayne
flowers (series) by stargazer_lily_1996 on ao3. soulmate au
tim drake
late night park walks by @lightwing-s
sleepless nights by starkk on ao3. soulmate au
who we are (on-going series) by minnieears on ao3
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the hunger games
finnick odair
our song and dance (on-going series) by @mrs-kmikaelson
one for the road by @libertyybellls
lover/fighter (on-going series) by aurabella on ao3 @bluemidnightmelody
cato
supernova (on-going series) by glossyybabie on ao3
it might kill me (on-going series) by frick6101719 on ao3
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grishaverse
kaz brekker
bejeweled by @reve-writes
dense by @reve-writes
nikolai lantsov
come on back to me by @atlabeth
bad luck by @atlabeth
nine long years (on-going series) by @ellewritesalright
enchanted by @in-my-feels-probably
a familiar melody by thehistoriangirl on ao3
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bridgerton
benedict bridgerton
drunk sketches by @delehosies
a lady’s guide to surviving the ton by @atlabeth
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ACOTAR
azriel
the green emotion by @utterlyazriel
love will unravel me (so please keep your hands held tight) by @utterlyazriel
daughter of autumn by @writingcroissant
nightlight (on-going series) by @azsazz
cassian
flames and embers by @hellodarling1357
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star wars
anakin skywalker
shifting gears by awritesthings1 on ao3
the handmaiden (on-going series) by rufflesandbows on ao3
my very soul (on-going series) by skywalkerog on ao3 @anakinskywalkerog
obi-wan kenobi
fleeting moments (series) by fitzfiles on ao3
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blue-sadie · 5 months
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Cold Stares
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Imagine:
Being on the team and everyone thinks you and Jason despise each other that you can't stand being in the same room but they are wrong because as soon as everyone leaves your inches apart in seconds lips touching and bodies pressed against eachother if only the team knew you didn't hate eachother rather hate being without one another.
"Shit baby I thought I would've had to blow our cover when you got hit, you almost gave me a heart attack when you didn't respond, you gotta stop doing that it scares me that I would have to deal with these morons with you"
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chxrrydrxp · 2 months
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ok so i'm so in with your theme rn and i loved your after car with jason drabble but what i really came here to say imagine poor jason todd realizes he's in love in dick's girlfriend. he doesn't say anything but he knows he can treat you better and be better for you. he knows dick cares about you but he's bad for you because he'll never fully love you but believes he can. so he watches you from afar, trying to sweet in small ways like helping fixing your car and stuff. he watches you and dick fight, break up and of course make up till the point he's fed up of watching dick play you because he's knows dicks cheating and he knows dick isn't trying to hurt you but its not fair. poor jason he doesn't want to be a rebound he just wants to give you the love you deserve.
I'm really about to break jasons pretty heart and staple it back together with this fic. apologies for the wait! I got too excited and decided to write a series about it 🥹
I'll release it chapter by chapter 🤭 and you're a genius I love ur brain 🧠
and fr dick damn near slept with every dc character that man is a whore. I'm still tryna figure out what excuse imma give him for why he is a serial man whore
all jokes aside, I'm gonna have some much fun with this.
𝒻ℴ𝓇𝒷𝒾𝒹𝒹ℯ𝓃 𝒻𝓇𝓊𝒾𝓉
Jason Todd x (Dick's Ex! Fem!) Reader:
chapter 1
chapter 2
warnings: this series will get heated eventually, and I'll just put a warning on those specified chapters.
this might be a long series, depends how much yall want it 🤭
Loud rain poured against Jason's window. He laid against his dark wood bed frame while reading a book. As he flicked through thin pages, the sound of you and Dick arguing could be heard from across the hall.
He wasn't exactly trying to eavesdrop, but he could make out certain sentences like “why's her name still..’. He sighed, growing more and more tired of the constant back and forth between you two. The conversation slowly moved from the room into the hall, and the argument could almost be heard throughout the whole manor.
“Dick, I cannot do this anymore. I'm tired. I'm tired of being confused about your feelings for me!” He could then hear Dick's annoyingly condescending voice. Another tired sigh escaped Jason's lips as he ran his fingers tiredly through his dark strands. He rolled off the bed, put on a loose white tee, and slipped on black house shoes.
Pulling the door back, he wasn't even noticed by the two of you until his deep voice rumbled through the hall. Even as a quiet, “The hells’ all the commotion, I'm tryna read damn it”, his voice caught your attention. You felt slightly embarrassed. But the anger just wouldn't let up. “Sorry Jason, just go back to your room,” Dick pleaded, leaning against the wall with a frown. Jason rolled his eyes at Dick's continuous attempts to sound like an older brother, and his eyes flickered to yours.
Noticing your red eyes and a tear of anger falling down your cheeks, his jaw relaxed and he almost looked concerned. “You alright?” His soft voice coaxed you out of your bubbling fit of anger. “Yeah...I'm okay…I'm just gonna go home..” Your eyes stuck back to the floor and then you walked away, leaving the two brothers alone. Dick began to walk away, only stopping in his tracks at the mention of his name.
“Dick…you can't keep doin' this man-” Dick spun around shooting a cold glare at him. “Doing what? You think I want to hurt her?” Jason's eyebrows furrowed. “You're not doing a good job of proving me wrong.” Dick walked away.
You dropped your keys on your marble console table, falling onto the couch with a sigh. You knew he wasn't right for you. This cycle of toxicity would go on and on forever unless you stuck your foot in the ground. The repeating doubts about your relationship circled your mind almost daily. You and Dick had been together since late middle school days. You went everywhere with each other and attended every dance together. You were both practically attached at the hip. You had everything in common and could get lost in various topics for hours.
But, that connection had seemed so far away. So long ago. Like a distant memory. The romance in the relationship felt like it was fading, but neither of you was ready to let it go. And it puts a strain on your relationship, even without romance.
You curled up on the soft sofa, bringing your knees to your chest and feeling stinging tears well in your eyes. You knew it was bad for you. God that's all you ever thought about. But it hurt too much to even consider ending things. He was so familiar.
You don't know how much time has passed by of you being stuck in a constant loop of repetitive thoughts, but a knock on your door shook you out of your trance.
“y/n? It's Jason, can I come in?” You quickly wiped your eyes with your shirt and straightened yourself out. “Be right there!” You cringed at that obvious wavering of your voice. You reached the door, opening it slightly so he could only see your upper half. Your head was leaned downward as a half-assed attempt to hide your tear-stained face. “Hey,” was all he said, with a faint sheepish smile. You lazily nodded at him. “Need something?” You'd hoped you didn't sound angry at him. “Well, I came here to ask you the same thing.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, a familiar habit of his. “Come in.”
(yall I cannot think of a title omg)
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apocalypse-shuffle · 1 year
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RED HOOD | BATFAMILY (assorted canon)
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“Long Overdue” (Jason Todd & Batmom!Reader) and (background Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)
| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on a raid when they’re overwhelmed. -Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.
| SFW, canon typical action/violence, cursing?, crying?
| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source - Batman: Three Jokers comic)
| 2k+ words
| parts: one, spurt, two, three, four, five, six/six point five, seven.
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Ma. God, no one called you that anymore. The way your eyes begin to prickle is a clear indication.
With you Dick wasn’t the type. Once he’d worked himself up to it he’d called you mom; slightly different from the few ways he referred to his bio mother, but something shared between the two of you all the same.
And Tim? Well he wasn’t your child plain and simple. Tim still had his parents for one, and for two he was intrinsically Bruce’s. By the time he’d figured his way into the Batcave you’d been gone, most of your shit moved out of the manor, and desperately waving divorce papers Bruce refused to acknowledge in the air. You didn’t have anything to do with his indoctrination outside of exactly one instance of him finding you to ask if you’d reconsider the separation. Some Batman needed a Robin and Bruce Wayne needed his wife type shit.
Either way Tim didn’t call you any rendition of mom because you weren’t his. The most you got was him addressing you by your maiden name and then eventually your first and you were content with that.
Then if he didn’t call you mom, the girls sure as hell didn’t either. Outside of Barbara the others never even became regular conversation partners. Cass was a rare sighting in your life and Stephanie and you’s relationship would never progress past the casual advocacy you tried giving her because she was another dead Robin to add to what’s now technically a list.
At the end of the day, out of all the people who considered you a mother, only Jason added that ‘a’ and you wanted to grip that name tight and hold it to you. Break your ribs open and force it into your chest cavity. The need to fulfill that ache cuts deep and you take a step forward.
Jason startles though, undoing all his own forward progress, and you falter. That’s right. Jason didn’t like for people to touch him. Definitely didn’t like hugs either. Not surprise ones at least. Before his death you’d gotten close enough he didn’t mind when you swooped in, but now?
“Can I-? Can I hug you?” You press trembling lips together for another horrible swallow. “Please…?”
Jason jerks, two hastily aborted movements at once, before his obstructed voice meets your ears.
“Fine.”
You practically fall on him before pulling him into you. Unfortunately he’s just as stiff as his voice and you have to take a second to figure out how to slot against him.
Jason fits in your arms differently than he used to - broader and taller by a mile - but after a few beats he relaxes into them just the same. The subtle addition of weight makes a sob bubble up your throat.
You rap your knuckles on the side of the helmet.
“Take this shit off.”
He hesitates and a sharp pang manages to worm its way into the already shitty cocktail of emotions you’re feeling. It hits your spine like lightning, forces you up and has you an arms length away in half an inhale.
Maybe before now you’d been going through too much all at once for the trepidation to hit, but it was hitting now. You’d never seen Hood without- well without the Hood. Only Jumbie raised from the dead the way Jason did, and while you’d take your son anyway you could get him you wouldn’t accept some Thing parading around in his skin.
Reading your burst of movement for what it is, Jason backtracks, rising arms dropping to his sides. “Maybe I shouldn’t…”
“Jason Peter-” you inhale deeply, catching yourself, and hold a hand up to stop him. You both ignore the obvious way it trembles. “-only… if…if you want to. I’m not trying to force anything.”
He’s slow to nod, weight shifting from his left to his right leg and back again before he says something too low for you to hear. You’re about to ask him to repeat when he speaks up, this time aiming his voice somewhere around your shoulder while bowing his head.
“No, I- Alright. Just hold on.”
Haunches suitably raised and heart in your throat you pay close attention as the helmet comes up, Jason having released some catch in the back.
It goes over, the helmet clatters to the ground, and the man who stares back at you is…hard to place.
The low fluorescent lighting of the narrow room combined with the concrete walls casts soft enough shadows over his face that while his features are warped they’re not discernible. Which means you can’t completely rule out the uncanniness wafting off of him as just your brain (along with your entire perception of the universe) splinting in half.
It makes your face heat up. He looks familiar, but you can’t say you wouldn’t have passed him straight if you’d seen him on the street. He’s too big for one, even for how you’d all imagined he’d look grown up, standing more than a foot taller than the last day you saw him. Taller than malnourishment would’ve ever let him be.
The sob you let out makes you both flinch.
One hand snaps to your mouth, the other waving him off.
“I’m sorry I- I don’t-. This is just-”
Even with the way he’s leaning away from you he shakes his head. “I get it, it's fine.”
His voice is faint, cut up and hoarse like he hasn’t used it in a while, and it’s the prettiest thing you’ve heard in ages.
“Oh,” you laugh. The wet kind that makes your throat sticky. You can only stare at him, blurry form and all, words lost to you.
Eventually, after watching your fervent effort to wipe away tears that are in no way inclined to give you a break, arms crossed Jason takes a half step forward with a shrug.
“We can…try again?”
The next little laugh you let out you practically choke on but you nod all the same.
When Jason’s the first to move your heart starts speeding away like an overexcited middle school drumline. You roll with it though, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes so they’re dry enough for you to actually see him clearly for a few seconds.
When he’s directly in front of you your hands come up slowly, giving him plenty of opportunity to move away. Or maybe to vanish.
When he does neither, only giving you a guarded look, you allow yourself to touch.
Problem is, the domino mask he’s wearing very quickly gets in your way and on your nerves when you move to frame his face. Quickly feels like if it’s not gone, if you can’t see his eyes, you’ll throw up.
To stop yourself from taking the risk and ripping it off you have to take a deep breath. Have to force down the thick build up of saliva gathering in your mouth so it pushes back the bile climbing up your throat.
“I’d like to see my son, Jason. All of you.”
To emphasize your point you tap the tip of your nail against the mask. There’s no intention on your part to cross his boundary but Jason’s hands snap up to hold onto your wrists all the same.
You look into the white lenses of his domino, fingers buzzing along the corner of the mask closest to them. His mouth twists into a frown.
“Please?”
You beg with the same ferocity a grieving mother once used when begging for her child back.
“You’re asking for a lot.”
He lets go and he takes a couple steps back and you don’t cry.
No, instead you swing your hands behind you. Clasping them together in a poor attempt to stop the buzzing sensation that travels from the tips of your fingers to take over your entire hand.
“Mmm,” you incline your head. “Well. I did help a boy get over first date jitters with a made up song once. Let that same boy talk me through an entire dissertations’ worth of his analysis of Their Eyes Were Watching God - as choppy as it was - because TWMS wouldn’t allow him to present it in class. Let him skip going to that same school and cry to me for hours after the death of Gloria Stanson. Remember a knife hidden in the corner on the highest shelf in his closet, and I remember not revealing any of that when I gave his eulogy because he once asked me to keep the important things between the two of us. So you don’t have to show me, but I think I make a pretty good qualifier when it comes to keeping this safe.”
You point straight to where his heart is tucked safely behind layers of gray armor before shrugging.
From the way his brows furrow over the domino you know he’s at least thinking about it so you step away to pick up your disregarded mask and stuff it in your waistband.
One blink. Six.
“You remember Rena?”
In front of him again, you rock back on your heels. “Mhm. And the ‘how to tie a tie’ lessons me and Bruce walked you through even though you didn’t wear a suit to that date. Remember that too.”
Jason’s smile is crooked on his face but it’s nonetheless present as he makes a noise of agreement.
“I’d just wanted to spend time with you two, I was never planning on wearing a suit to go to the skating rink.”
“We figured.”
You’re rolling onto the balls of your feet when that small smile drops and he shakes his head.
“I’m not that same boy anymore.”
You take in the way he could raise his hand and so easily touch the ceiling without having to jump. You clear the phlegm from your throat.
“I can tell.”
Jason grunts and makes a general gesture indicating something somewhere behind you.
“And I got no interest in trying to live up to whatever fucked up embalment Bruce’s got going on with my burnt suit in that case.”
That suit. Bruce’s memorial. His warning. Your breath hitches as you think of the smell of crisped blood and methanol. If Jason didn’t want to talk about it you sure as shit weren’t going to.
“I will one hundred percent take that into account.” You keep it simple, rocking on your heels again. He wasn’t asking for anything unreasonable so there wasn’t really any debate to be had. “You wanna be treated as you are? I can do that.”
Moments pass once you’ve said your peace where Jason does nothing but stare at you. The only indication he’s at all alive being his shoulders still moving - and you are watching. Eyeing that tell tale up and down like your own life will end at its falter. The pattern is slow enough to come off as pacivity but the time between each rise and fall is too measured to be uncontrolled. Exactly three point eleven seconds one way and three point eleven seconds the other. Every time.
Then he sighs, curses, and the little veil of dissolvent for the adhesive that adheres the mask to his face is in his hand. A different vial and color than when he was Robin; you don’t know why you thought it’d be the same. Or why it makes your heart clench that it’s not.
Between one thrum of the fluorescent lights and the next Jason is peeling away the domino, and you would be lying if you claimed to know where it disappeared to after that. Too caught up on what he’d been hiding to track it.
Blue. Nothing more and nothing less. Just blessedly familiar, vibrant blue. Not the dull gray they’d become by the time you were given the chance to put a gruesome sight of a child six feet under.
The “Oh wow,” tumbles from you without permission and then there’s zero hope for the waterworks you’d been holding back. The levee fails and you’re bawling before you know it. Barely holding back snot and who knows what else since you already feel like screaming.
At that point there’s no carefully thought out sentence for you to spew, no more hesitancy, no more measured breathing, and linear thought. Just the crushing need to have him close to you again.
You’re rushing forward before you know.
Wrapping your arms around Jason the next go around is both the best and the worst thing. You accommodate his new size faster, already writing over the ways he used to fit against you with the ways he does so now, but he’s still so stiff and he’s not reciprocating the hug either.
Maybe you should let go. You crossed the boundary too fast. Were too reckless. You literally have training on this and now you’re crowding him.
Okay, you’re pulling away. It’s a herculean effort but you’re forcing your arms from around his middle. You’ve got to, you don’t want to scare him off. Not when you just got him back.
There’s a soft “Not yet,” mumbled into your shoulder and then arms finally come around yours and you don’t hesitate to snap your own back into place.
He’s hugging you back.
You cry a little harder and bring one of your arms up to drape across his shoulders, pulling him closer. When you start rocking and Jason copies your momentum you press a kiss onto his temple.
“Hi,” you stutter out. Another sob. “Hi baby.”
Since he’s finally letting his arms wrap around you you don’t hesitate to run dark fingers through the truly unruly mass of black curls on his head. His hairs’ damp - most likely from sweat - but cool. Probably being tempered by the cold air blowing into the room.
It’s when you press a kiss to his forehead that you feel something else wet and your breath stutters.
“It’s okay. I got you, everything’s okay,” you whisper.
“God Ma-” his voice cracks and then you can hear the sobs he’s trying to muffle into your suit. “No it’s not.”
“I know,” you sob. “I’m sorry- so so fucking sorry.”
You sniffle and pull away to see him better. Jason’s face is flushed, his eyes wet, and cheeks streaked with tears shed. You hold your hands up to frame his face for a second time and run your thumbs through the tear tracks. His chest heaves as his body tries to regulate his breathing.
Jason clears his throat, gaze boring into yours. “Hi,” he says.
You smile, finally beginning to map out his face. First you move to frame his cheeks, too feel the warmth in them. To see if they still feel familiar. They don’t; you force yourself to accept that fact without letting it show in your expression, letting out a measured exhale before continuing. You find his jaw is more defined now too, cheeks devoid of the baby fat of five years prior.
From then on brushing your thumbs along his brows, over the bridge of his nose, traveling over his ears and skirting around his hairline - it all fills your mind with incoherent cheers.
Your thumbs hover over Jason’s eyes and you hum when he closes them for you.
The skin underneath your shaved off pads is soft. The thin layer of protection allows you to feel how his eyeballs shift, to see the way his veins show stark under light skin, to clock the life thrumming through him.
It makes your heart feel so goddamn light. You can’t stop smiling at the sight of him. Eyes still wet but clear.
“I feel like such a horrible mother,” you hiccup, hands slide down so you can once again cup his face. “I barely recognize you.”
Jason’s breathing shakes nearly in tandem with yours and his eyes squeeze tighter shut, head turning away.
“Don’t.” He takes a second to look up. Look right through you. Lashes wet and glassy eyes open, voice grating over his next words. “Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault. I don’t blame any of you for that, but especially not you.”
What you want to do is argue. You should’ve never let him put on that suit in the first place, one fucked up son should’ve been the end of it. You should’ve dropped the case you were working the second you’d heard he’d run away and you should’ve found him. Instead you keep your thoughts personal, pinning them to your brain as if it’s a cushion so that you’ll never forget, and pull your son closer. An action which he allows, resting his head on your shoulder.
“I’m glad you’re back,” you whisper into his hair. The way he instantly shakes his head makes the cool strands tickle your jawline.
“You can’t mean that.”
“If I didn’t mean it I wouldn’t have said it, Jay.”
Jason tenses before responding, words spewing without warning.
“Yeah except I’ve killed people, and I don’t regret it, and Bruce hates that - and you probably do too - but his way isn’t good enough. The people in this city deserve better so I’m doing what’s necessary-”
And that has you bristling. He must notice too because he stops short and edges away, face steeping. Caught somewhere between wanting to leave and wanting to fully kick start an argument.
…TBC
NOTES: Hope you enjoyed! I had to split this bitch in two cause it was 5,000+ words and I’m not in the business of under-indulging myself.
Listen, I’ve looked into it. Every mother/mother figure Jason’s ever had he’s referred to as “Mom”, but me personally, I didn’t grow up addressing my own mother that way so I wanted to play around with “Ma” (differentiate a little). What's funny though, is that I’ve read Dick referring to his mother as both “Ma” and “Mom” so that’s fun.
• TWMS = Thomas Wayne Middle School
btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.
Tagged: @aarinisreading, @niphredil-14, @mxtokko, @calsjack, @brunnetteiwik
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craxkbaby · 2 months
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(Platonic) Can I request Jason with a kid that's quiet and just shadows him and copies his movements, but even when nights off at one of his safe houses, the kid is just looking at him through the window beat up and bleeding and just smiles and waves and just says a random fact like; this "Mister Hood Did you know that cacti can live up to 200 years...Okay bye" and just leaves
(basically just letting Jason know there okay and alive and it becomes a normal thing and they leave random things like shiny rocks and wilted flowers they like and find pretty, I just wanted to share do with this as you will)
-🐞Anon
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hello 🐞!! I apologize for taking a while to answer this! This is lovely, I love it! I can totally imagine Jason with a kid, who isn’t even his kid. I read a fic that had 9 parts to it ABOUT Jason Todd adopting! It was the sweetest lowkey made me tear up! LMAO
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Jason Todd, not expecting a kid to follow him everywhere, copy his movements, act just like him. Why would he want a kid to stick around anyways?
Let’s assume Kid!M!Reader came from a bad spot, being bruised, getting into fights at some times. Of course, Jason could relate to that, making him somewhat see himself in you.
Yes.. let’s just say you can be a PROFESSIONAL YAPPER! You’re a kid, able to talk anyone’s ear off with ease. As first, it annoyed Jason. Got annoyed hearing facts that he thought would be useless to know.
“Did you know cacti can live up to 200 years?” “Did you know, that I don’t care.”
(TYPE SHIT LMFAOO OMG)
Though, the longer you stick around, the more Jason starts to care for you. Stopped trying to get you to shut up with your facts, stopped trying to push you away.
The more you came to him when you were bloody and bruised, the more he let you stay at his safe house. Too worried for you to go out and just come back bruised again!
Then you started bringing him things like rocks, rocks that caught your eye. Rocks that you thought Jason would take interest in.
Bringing rocks that shined like crystals in the sun or under some light. Obviously this peaked Jason’s interest, cause how are you finding rocks that look so lovely?
“Where are you finding these?” Jason asked as you sat next to him, showing him all the rocks you picked up on the way here. You simply shrugged shoving more rocks his way.
He secretly keeps the rocks, somewhere in his drawer or on the top of his closet shelf. Totally acts like he doesn’t care for them, but as soon as you say your goodbyes, he scoops them all up and organizing them into a drawer.
(HE LOVES THEM!)
Then your next phase starts, with the flowers. Wilted flowers, even though they don’t look like you just bought them. Jason thinks they are somewhat prettier wilted, the more flowers you bring him. He gets a vase for them!
Keeping them in a corner of a room on a dresser. He appreciates the small gifts, though still!! He acts like he isn’t interested in them at all!
Though, when you don’t show up at your usual time for a few nights in a row. He had to admit, he felt worried. How could he not?
It’s Gotham, anything could happen to you. So when you weren’t showing up, Jason stayed awake. “Kids probably just late,” he told himself.
Though one night, when you knocked on his window. Startling Jason, though the sight of you quickly easing away his anxiety. Of course, you were bruised.
You leaned on the window sill as Jason opened the window to hear what you have to say, “Hey, did you know hummingbirds are the only birds who can fly backwards?”
You said with a ridiculous smug look on your face. Jason looked at you with the plainest and irritated look on his face. Goodness! You went missing for a few days, and just to come back to tell him another one of your silly stupid facts.
You left a small rock on the window sill, before waving goodbye. Jason let out a relief sigh as he picked up the rock examining it before glancing back at you as you walked away. “Little shit..”
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I did not reread this! Please ignore any typos ❤︎︎
Please don’t steal my work!! :3
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dxckgrxsonx · 1 year
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Series MasterList
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Summary - Sent an unsolicited dick pic from a man you went on a date with a few days ago, Jason Todd takes it upon himself to send one back. Unknowingly kickstarting the realisation that even though he’s your best friend, you can’t stop thinking about how big he is and how much your feelings have progressed since you first met.
Pairing - Jason Todd x Reader (Idiot Best Friends to Lovers)
Warnings - SMUT 18+ - Graphic Sexual Content - Slow Burn - Nudes - Videos of Sexual Acts - Masturbation - Violence - Fluff - Angst - Comfort - Lots of Swearing - Casual Intimacy / Platonic Affection - So many Feelings! - Idiots to Lovers.
Notes - I never expected to get such an overwhelming positive reaction to these two idiots and I cannot thank you all enough for the support you’ve given throughout the series so far. Not all warnings have been added yet as I’m not finished with the series, but I will add them as I go along.
On-Going Series
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
Part Eleven 
Part Twelve - Coming Soon...
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Note
Okay, I loved the NSFW headcanons for Dick... But what about Jason? If you feel up for it, can you do some NSFW headcanons for our bucket boy?
hehehe this was requested a LOT
tw: food and weight mentions
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ok to get it out of the way: contrary to popular belief, he does NOT have a gun or knife kink
he died after being tortured, do we really think he takes pleasure in roughing you up? especially using guns. he uses them daily, knows how to operate them better than anyone, and he knows exactly how many accidental discharges happen. no way in hell he’s risking that.
he wouldn’t mind being rough, however, but I don’t think he would like to mark you, even if it’s hickeys. seeing bruises on your skin makes him go Edward Cullen mode and he hates the idea that he caused any kind of pain to you
you have to assure him that he can thrust harder or squeeze your ass tighter
the helmet does something for you, you won’t lie. the idea of Jason being separate from Red Hood means Red Hood is a little rougher, a little more callous, a little more degrading in his speech
Jason is a fucking sweetheart and a tank of a man
size. kink.
rarely does he meet someone as tall and built as him so he loves to just throw you around onto the bed and then hoist you onto his lap
man can lift 600-1k lbs on the reg so pls don’t ever tell him you’re too heavy for him
my man’s loves seeing you eat his food because he’s providing for his lover
he loves grabbing your thighs, stroking along stretch marks, and burying himself between your folds and eating you out
Jason loves it when you pull his hair
he also loves it when you ride him. He gets to lie back on your shared bed, put his arms behind his head, and watch you rut and moan against him as you use him to get off
just bc he doesn’t like marking you up doesn’t mean he isn’t totally into domination. His form comes in tying you up or verbal communicating you into submission
his main goal is always to take care of his lover in every aspect of life, so sometimes you have to take over and help him get out of his head
totally likes getting pegged
damn near crying as you sink into him and brush against his prostate as his fingers grip the sheets and he begs you for more
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reveluving · 5 months
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see you soon ; jason todd x batmom reader (ft bruce wayne)
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includes: jason's beloved dubbed 'princesa' (can read it as her and/or jason being latina/latino or spanish being jason's 1st/2nd language!) & tooth-rotting fluff!
a/n: combining @xoxokirby's jason todd x princesa with my batmom AU in this quick, cute thought because I just love talking about them together 💗
check out my batmom m.list <3
"Alright, so here's the hot chocolate," You carefully passed Jason the heavy double-cup holder, "And in here is your Philly cheesesteak, some soups and your girl's panini sandwich. And I threw in some brownie pudding in there since we had extra. Make sure you don't heat it up beyond forty-five seconds. You're lucky you texted me just as dinner rush started."
While waiting for Jason to come and pick up the orders he had requested you just hours ago, you closed down the necessary so you could head home with Bruce straight away once he finishes his work in the office. Not once had Jason stopped offering on taking you back to the manor first before heading back to his girlfriend at his apartment, but you insisted otherwise.
And how could he say no to his mother?
"Yeah, that's on me," Your son smiled sheepishly, holding the bags of food and drinks with ease, "Y'sure we don't gotta pay up?"
"What makes you think I'm making my own kids pay for food at my café all of a sudden?" You rested your hands on your hips, brows raised as if he had asked the dumbest question ever.
"'m just askin', y'don't have to be so mad. Sheesh," He shrugged, only to dodge your playful smack with a laugh, "Kiddin', kiddin'."
But the big smile on his face remained.
A lot of things make him smile, be it from you, his siblings, Bruce at times or his beloved, but he just couldn't help replaying how you considered his girl one of 'your kids', as if, like him, you just knew she was the one.
"Be sure to tell her about the family dinner that we're having in two weeks." You reminded him, slipping on your gloves before turning off most of the lights. It would be her first dinner with the Waynes, and you wanted nothing more than to have her as a part of your family’s cheesy traditions.
"I will," He nodded, and just as you wondered about the extra joy he was radiating, he hugged you with one arm—the one that was holding the bag of food, "Thanks, ma."
"Oh, Jay," You chuckled, returning the hug with a few pats in his back, "I'm just looking out for my kids."
Just then, you and Jason heard the sound of engine approaching, and lo and behold, the familiar black Aston Martin came into view.
"That's our cue. C'mon," You playfully pushed him from the back, drawing a worried 'ma!', afraid he might drop the food. You just responded to his pout with a cheeky smile before exiting the café, with him waiting for you to lock the door. Winter came in early in Gotham, and the citizens took the opportunity to decorate the city in ways that seemed so... familial.
You opened the passenger door, "Hey." You lit up as Bruce leaned in, his warm lips tickled your cold cheek.
"Sorry I'm late. Tried to finish up some of the last reports before the holidays."
You reassured him, shaking your head as you did, "You're not, I promise. Plus, Jay waited with me."
Bruce looked over at your door, where Jason stood, "Thanks, Jason. Head home safely and don't forget about the dinner, alright?"
"I won't," He nodded curtly as he walked backwards, heading to the alley where he parked his bike, "I'll text y'when I reach home."
"Say hi to princesa for us!" You grinned, waving as you watched your son disappear into the back of the store. You closed the door, turning to Bruce and officially greeting him with a quick but nonetheless sweet kiss, "Hi, you."
"Hi yourself," He sighed in content, leaning in for another kiss as he held the steering wheel, "Shall we?"
"Of course." You replied, and just as your seatbelt clicked into place, Jason drove past you, but not before waving at you and Bruce as he did.
With the end of the year around the corner, you were tired, and so was Bruce. Jason was no different and he didn't doubt that his girl was beat, too.
But it was impossible to suppress the smiles on your faces, knowing that none of you will end the day by your lonesome.
Just a hot drink in hand, a comfy bed to cuddle up in, and your other half to hold onto.
˚ · . f i n . · ˚
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intriq · 7 months
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Daffodil
Part of my Hanahaki series
Character: Jason Todd
Theme: Angst
Daffodil: regard, unequalled love
‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎┏━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┓
You've known Jason for awhile. You've been friends for a few years at this point.
You've seen him change and grow. Grieved him when he died, welcomed him back when he returned. Supported him when he needed it, because truthfully? He did need it. Even if he was a stubborn asshole about it.
But you also loved him throughout those years. Through all those changes.
You loved him when he died, loved him when you visited his headstone, and you loved him even when he came back. You just always did.
But you also knew he never loved you back. He was never quite capable of seeing of just how head over heels you were for him, even though his family could. To him, you were always just his "best friend".
You thought you could be happy like that, you truly did. You thought you could be content loving him from the sidelines, even if it was suffocating knowing he would never love you back. You thought you'd be okay.
Until you coughed up those flower petals.
You remember the exact day you first discovered you had Hanahaki Disease, too.
It'd been a cloudless night, the first one in a few days. Maybe weeks. Either way, for once Gotham was not shrouded by storm clouds. It was at most, calm. Peaceful. But perhaps that in of itself should have been an omen.
Because Gotham was never peaceful.
You don't remember exactly what was said that night, but you just remember how you'd started coughing the moment Jason was distracted. Had you two been on a stakeout that night? You were almost sure that you were.
You remember so vividly clutching those flower petals in your hands, staring at them before crushing them in your palm, letting them drift in the wind when Jason asks you if you were alright.
And now here you were, months later. Over time Jason would give you suspicious looks when you'd tried to hide your coughing fits, would always double check if you were really okay. But you always said you were.
Until today.
You and Jason are doing the last of your stakeout mission, gathering the last tiniest bits of intel to feed to the others so that way they could take out this newly fledged gang from right under their nose. It's cold, but that's fine. Gotham is always cold, especially in the autumn months.
"How much longer are we supposed to be out here for?"
You pause to think for a minute as your eyes scan the outside of the warehouse the gang had turned into their main base of operations. Taking in every detail, hoping it’d help piece together some of their behavior.
“Not that much longe—“ Your words are cut off by that feeling in your throat, hand flying up reflexively as you scramble to remove your mask just in time to violently begin coughing into the palm of your hand.
You hunch into yourself as you cough, your free hand clutching your mask desperately so you could put it back on at a moments notice. Next to you, Jason is concerned. Behind the red helmet he wears his face is a mixture of concern.
It takes awhile for you to stop coughing. The raw creeping pain that fills your throat and makes your lungs burn is something you’ve grown used to.
You pull your hand away when you feel that same familiar feeling of blood in your hands, wet and hot as it pairs with your spit and the flowers. You try to hide it from Jason, you really do. You try to clench your fist and let it drop to your side.
But Jason is faster. He’s got your hand snagged by the wrist the moment it drops. And he pries your hand open while he remains quiet. And when he sees the flowers and blood in your hands he knows he should’ve done so sooner.
You’d been hiding behind the coughing fits for awhile. Pulling excuses out of the air for each one. Making up reasons for your dwindling strength and stamina, for how your skin got progressively more sickly and pale.
Excuses each and every time that Jason now regrets not looking deeper into.
“Fucking Hanahaki Disease? Seriously?” Jason doesn’t hesitate to say your name in that same tone. He’s angry, but he’s worried. An angry kind of concerned and worried, because for months you’ve probably been suffering alone. And to him, he doesn’t want his best friend to suffer alone. He’s had to do that already, he knows it’s shitty.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Who is it?”
“It’s not important, Red. Doesn’t matter—“
Jason stops you, the grip on your wrist tightening for a moment as he seems to be trying at least a little bit to regulate his emotions.
“Screw that. It’s Jason your talking to right now, not Red Hood.”
“Jason—“
“No! It does fucking matter, okay? Your.. Fuck, you’re my friend, okay? I care about what’s happening to you.”
Your heart aches at the word friend, makes the suffocating feeling in your throat grow tighter. Friend. Of course. That was all you’d ever be to him.
“It’s just a little one sided love, Jason.”
“Little? You call coughing up blood and flowers little? Your dying!”
Your face scrunches up as you begin sputtering again, coughing as more specks of blood fly past your lips.
“If it’s one sided, you need to get the surgery. It’s the only option.”
Immediately your shaking your head, trying to refuse, but Jason’s already picking you up. He’s already died once, brought back by chance because of the Lazarus Pit. He’s not gonna have you die, because you matter to him.
He ignores your protesting pleas as you eventually fall unconscious from the lack of air you are able to get into your lungs because of the flowers growing there.
And Jason brings you to Gotham General.
But when you awaken from that lifesaving surgery, preventing you from dying on the operating table as you were seconds from death, Jason noticed your different with him.
He can see just how different you look at him. You aren’t the same you that he remembers growing up with. The look in your eyes is different, as is your smile.
You aren’t quite as warm, not quite that same ball of sunshine with him as you used to be. At first he thinks it’s because your mad at him for bringing you to the hospital against your wishes, but..
Even when months pass and you still don’t get that same energy you used to back is when he understands. It hits him when your suddenly looking at someone else the way you used to look at him and it hits him hard, like a smack to the face.
Oh. He thinks. He was the one you loved.
And that regret hits Jason hard, especially when he coughs up flower petals of his own.
‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛
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violetvalval · 2 months
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Yall hear me out- Imagine if the reader is like reading some of the most unholy shit ever in a book (cough cough, Haunting Adeline or Twisted men cough cough) and then Jason just snatches the book you're reading and like- reads the shit you be reading and just-
"Why read this when I can make this reality, sweetheart."
can't be the only one who has thought of this.
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cas-backwards-tie · 6 months
Text
Chapter Six: The Summer of a Lifetime
Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader
Heiress of Gotham | Previous Chapter
Summary: With things out of the way and perhaps a little more trust, maybe the reader will finally start to make some progress, and a few friends along the way.
Warnings: Spying, Being Spied On, Insects, Wet T-Shirts, Flirting,
Words: 3.6k
A/N: While this chapter may seem like it takes a lot of twists in turns in the vignettes, it's sort of meant to reflect the ups and downs and small moments we have during summer. Honestly, though, this is perfect for the introduction of certain characters and plotlines I wanted! القرف = ‘shit’
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It'd been an interesting end to the school year, really, and that's aside from the fact that you'd had to deal with and go through the grief of your Mother passing. Within the few months you'd been at Wayne Manor, the family had quickly learned many things about you. Bruce had found out how frugal and tenacious you are, insistent on selling some of your old articles of clothing for money on some app he could never remember the name of, meanwhile refuting the many attempts he'd offered to take you out shopping. Who wants to go shopping with their Dad anyway? He'd been consumed with work, and therefore more time had been turned over to your brothers.
While school was out for both you and Damian, Tim had decided to take summer classes at the nearby community college since it'd make his college applications only look better. Dick, of course, was still working, and Jason, really, you had no idea what was going on with him since it seemed he had most days free and nights taken. While you'd considered the possibility that someone associated with the Wayne family had a night-time job, you also didn't want to think of someone who very quickly became a big brother to you in that manner. That was just... ew. With the three eldest gone or rarely home, you'd been left with Damian and Alfred mostly.
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“So… you’re spying on your own child because…?” Tim draws out, leaning against the motherboard as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“Because it’s Bruce? You’re not the first. Thought you would’ve been the wiser, Green Bean,” Dick chides as he manually stitches another loop into his uniform. Seated on the edge of the metal table propped against the railing on the other side of the platform.
“She’s been watching television for over two hours straight. Is this unhealthy?” The man of the hour speaks, eyes unmoving from the image of you through the lens of one of his pesky drones.
“Hey, you’re the one who’s supposed to be parenting, yeah? You chose to bring her on, you choose what’s healthy and unhealthy,” the elder boy retorts, a clear sass in his tone that reminds Bruce where Damian’s gotten it from.
“Hn,” the old man groans, “That doesn’t mean I know what’s standard in teenagedom as of currently,” he grumbles more to himself than anyone.
“Have you tried, I don’t know, just talking to her?” Tim asks, an eyebrow quirking as he doesn’t try and hide the amused smile breaking across his lips.
“You’re one to talk,” Bruce teases the boy. He’s still somewhat resentful of the way he’d handled things with Stephanie a few years ago now.
A huff of annoyance leaves Tim and he rolls his eyes. Pushing off the computer, he turns to head for the stairs when he spots movement on the monitor. Dick doesn’t seem to care, rather, he’s focused on fixing and upgrading his equipment. However, Tim watches from just a few feet behind the old man’s chair. His drone follows you as you get up, bringing an empty dish and glass to the kitchen. You don’t notice, of course, as Tim knows this has to be one of the nano drones, most likely, disguised as a fly following your movements through the Manor just a few hundred feet above them.
It’s uninteresting, really, the way he watches you put your empty dish in the sink along with your glass. Your visage shifts, heading back to the living room, but doesn’t fail to notice the nano drone. “Spotted,” Tim announces, curious to see where this goes.
“That doesn’t mean anything. Most people aren’t fazed by an insect,” Bruce defends, finally taking his gaze off the screen for a mere moment as he turns to Tim. The boy watches as you step closer to the drone; the still fly on the fridge’s handle was easy to spot, and while your eyes quickly move on in an attempt to seem as if you hadn’t noticed the bug, not wanting to disrupt it or scare it away, you step closer to the fridge.
On top of the box lies an item you’ve been grateful for ever since you’d gotten your Mom to buy it offline. Easily stepping on your tiptoes you grab the object’s handle and have your finger ready atop the trigger. Now all that’s left is to catch it off-guard.
The amused look on Tim’s face makes Bruce paranoid; blue eyes racing back to the monitor, he watches as a tennis-racket swatter comes his way. Lifting the nanodrone up and off the surface he barely escapes the touch of the electric swatter. Bzzt! He’s hit. Flying across the kitchen and landing on the counter, he turns the drone around to get you in frame again. “And you thought she wouldn’t do anything,” Tim laughs. An error message pops up, screen turning red along with the artificial voice alert. Clearly you’ve damaged the drone.
“It only took twenty-five percent capacity,” Bruce announced, clicking different keys to get everything back to neutral.
This elicits Dick’s eyes as his focus shifts up to the situation before him. An amused smile graces his lips and he can’t help but sometimes pity the man. Bruce… tries. He means well, but he doesn’t always have the best approach. “Gotta say, this is better than reality tv.” His Father shakes his head and, attention returning to the monitor again after being distracted by Tim.
“You risked a drone for this? Come on, man. This is your own daughter we’re talking about,” Tim chastises, even if he’s still laughing and more than amused by this. If he wants to waste his tech, by all means, let them watch. It’s not like he can’t get more.
The men watch as you look around the kitchen, eyes taking everything in. With an occasional turn, and a flip of your hair, he’s spotted again! This time Bruce sees you coming before he can be squashed. Out of sight, out of mind, he thinks. “Honestly, I’m just lucky she didn’t spot me earlier. Ace and Titus weren’t the most helpful considering they kept tracking my movements, clueing her in. But she didn’t get me until now.”
“I’m impressed she even got you at all, honestly,” Dick comments, drawing their attention again.
“Not a fan?” Tim asks, curious to hear his thoughts. After all, he hasn’t been around as much considering things have been busy with school, and hectic with Stephanie… therefore, he doesn’t know as much about you. He hasn’t spent as much time around you as the others.
Met with a noncommittal noise, Tim watches Dick shrug. “I’ve got nothing against her aside from what she said at her dinner and obviously her hate for the BPD,” he trails off, a shudder running through him, “then again, she was kind of insane when we were moving her stuff. Threatened to kill us and all. Not really the type of vibe you wanna have running around the house, you know? At least, not mine, I’ll tell you that.” With a chuckle, Dick lifts the needle to his mouth, teeth going for the fabric since he hadn’t bothered to grab scissors.
Tim almost laughs along with his brother, that is until he processes what he’d said. “Wait, what-?!” Eyes quickly darting between him and Bruce, he’s suddenly alert. “What do you mean she tried to kill you?! What’re you talking about? Hey- why didn’t you tell me this?” He zeroes in on Bruce, determined to get an answer. “Does Damian know? Why am I the last one to find out about anything around here?” He complains.
“I mean she tried to-“ Dick begins.
“She did not! Dick, stop exa-“ Bruce interrupts.
“Bruce-“ Tim interjects, eyes suddenly on your approaching visage in the drone’s visual. “Bruce!” You’ve got the fly cornered, with one swift sweeping wack, and a press of the button, it’ll die.
“What?!” He yells. As soon as he turns from Tim to the monitor he’s too late. Zzztt!!! They all grimace and wince. An alert pops up on screen:
‘V I S U A L L O S T’
The options to ‘connect to different device’ or ‘relay input’ lie underneath the big text, but ultimately you’d destroyed the thing. With the click of a button Bruce closes the tab and the background of the Manor’s security camera feeds linger. Alfred dances in the office as he dusts along, presumably, to music—Bruce knows his routine. On another, you’re carrying the nanodrone on the electric swatter to the trash, disposing of the ‘fly’ you’d killed. Lastly, Damian is reading, doing his homework as he sits in an armchair by the fireplace in the Library, Titus curled up by his feet.
“Dammit! This is why you can’t just be in here. You’re either here for a purpose or you’re out,” Bruce dictates. “Dick is actually doing something, Tim. You’re just gossiping.” With a defeated drop of his hands to the desk, he raises himself from his computer chair and rounds Tim.
“You still didn’t tell me what happened,” Tim argues, the anger in his voice no longer hiding. “I’m tired of being out of the loop! What happened?” he demands. A sigh weighs Bruce’s shoulders down, and as Dick finally takes in the men before him, he doesn’t dare to add any more flame to the already burning fire.
“She was involved with Marin. Alright? She thought he was coming for her, momentarily figured we were in on it. Satisfied?” Bruce responds, turning to face the boy.
They all know he’s been hurt. That he has trauma… it’s no secret. Yet, it’s only in few and far between moments that the boys are able to see things for what they are in a crystal-clear view. This is one of those times. Their warped views on good and evil, right and wrong, revenge and punishment… they blur the lines of reality in ways he’s sure that you, a civilian, would never understand, and yet… Tim realizes the weight of this.
“Who-?”
“Angel Marin. Bludhaven’s biggest mob boss,” Dick informs. A ‘Hn’ leaves Bruce’s lips as he makes his way toward the stairs, and a sigh leaves Tim. With a grateful nod in Grayson’s direction, Tim follows after Bruce.
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“You know, someone mentioned your birthday is coming up,” Bruce teases, a hint of a smile hiding behind his wine glass.
The quick flash of a smile overtakes your face before you try to hide it. None of them miss it. “Um… yeah. W-who said?”
It’s invisible, perhaps, to all besides those who know him best, however, Bruce pales at the question, faltering. While you’re good at reading people, you don’t notice. Whether it’s the subject matter or the way everyone’s staring, you simply wait for a response.
“Uh, the-“ he clears his throat, eyes suddenly downcast as he reaches for his knife and fork to cut his steak, “the social worker! Yes, she mentioned it while you were in your meeting.” Obviously a lie. If anyone truly knows Bruce the way most at the table do, they'd know he found it in your files and footprint.
“Oh,” you respond, putting on a fake smile as you too attempt to hide behind the meal. Birthdays can be a big deal for some, and others, not. It all depends, and you aren't sure where things lie in this family. You still feel like an outsider, despite their attempts, and you don't want to burden them further.
“We could have a party!” Damian suggests, to everyone’s surprise.
“You just want a party,” Jason comments with a chortle.
“Is there anything you want?” Dick asks, looking down at you from your side, putting you on the spot. His kind blue eyes stir something within you, and you turn your gaze back to your plate. Busying yourself by cracking your knuckles, your lips purse into a line. With a shake of your head, it’s clear no one is sated.
“There’s nothing you want? At all?” Bruce prods, eliciting your eye contact again. Lips pursing even more you shake your head again.
“Um,” eyes falling to your lap you collect yourself, not allowing your imagination to run wild. “You taking me in was enough. Thank you.” Voice quiet, everyone has their own reaction to your words, albeit unbeknownst to you.
“Oh, shut up! You know there’s at least one thing you want,” Jason teases from across the table.
“Oh? And what’s that since you know her so well?” Tim pries, knowing he’s setting his brother up. Jason hesitates, almost choking on his drink which elicits laughs from the boys, and an amused smile from Bruce. As bickering starts to ensue, you decide.
“I-“ all eyes turn to you, “I want a party!” You announce. With a confident smile, you figure, how bad could it be? After all, parties don't need to be big! Something sweet, the family there, and a boardgame is all you'd need for it to be considered a party to you.
“See? At least I know what she wants,” Damian chides proudly.
“Oh? Well what kind of party would you like?” Bruce asks.
“Who do you want to invite?” Dick inquires.
“What’s the theme?” Jason adds.
“Actually, isn’t your birthday coming up now that I think of it?” Tim voices his concern over to Jason.
“Uh…” Jason shakes his head a little, taken aback, “I mean, I don’t really celebrate anymore since-“
“-the same day as Alfred’s, that’s right,” Bruce saves them, an unfazed smile on his lips, “though I believe we can celebrate both, can’t we?” While you’re not exactly paying attention, to the rest of them there’s a silent, yet menacing request behind his eyes. It’s clear they’re not allowed to speak freely anymore, no matter your new seat at the table of their family.
“Okay, but mine comes first- or did you forget again?” Damian asks with a bite. Upon the silence, he rolls his eyes and goes back to his meal with the exasperated sound of his breath hitting his tongue against his teeth. An audible ‘Tt’ sound.
“I didn’t forget, Damian,” Bruce clenches his jaw and grips his glass a little tighter. Does every family dinner have to turn into a fight? “You know I was with the-“ he catches himself, “Hn- that I had to-“
“-business calls… we’re well aware, Father. Perhaps you’ll do yourself a favor and won’t miss your other child’s birthday,” Damian finishes the conversation. “Not that I count on it.”
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Walking through the pool room, you’re focused on texting Daisha, intent on telling her the good news!
‘Omg you’ll never guess what just happened! I’ll ha-‘
Splash!
A dissatisfied exclamation escapes your lips as you stare at the wet stain on your shirt. “Really?! Dam-“ looking up from your drenched navy tank top, your eyes widen and lips part.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I thought you were Damian.”
You quickly take in the super-soaker and the boy’s apologetic expression, and it’s easy enough to put two and two together. As footsteps quietly click against the tiled floors of the locker rooms leading toward the pool deck, you grab the boy’s hand and drag him back the way he’d come around the corner. There lies a linen closet between the pool, laundry room, and stairwell. With a swift hand, you open the door and shove him in, following after as you quietly shut the door.
A bemused smile appears on his lips as his eyebrows furrow. “You’re his sister,” he whispers with certainty, “I’m Billy.”
Whispering back your name, he repeats it. Visibly eager on saying something else, you place your fingers on his lips to shut him up. He follows your eyesight, both of you staring through the slats in the closet door. With a keen ear, he gets the gist and remains quiet. As moments pass, you can feel the boy staring; curious, you meet his gaze only to find him searching your eyes. You can’t help but notice how pretty his are. Though you almost get swept up in admiring his features, you hear a faint creak only meters away; with a motion of your other hand, you beckon him to hand you the gun.
Transferred into your open hand, you slowly remove your fingers from his lips, cupping the barrel of the super-soaker while the other wraps around the handle, fingers ready at the trigger. With a head nod toward the door, you mouth the words: ‘On three! Ready?’
Billy seems to understand, as he holds his hands up in a ready stance to push open the doors. Together, you both mouth the countdown (which is really a count up, but anyway): ‘One… Two…’
“THREE!” Busting out of the closet, Damian is just a few feet from your right. It’s easy to spin and shoot as you’d been prepared, having watched him walk past the door together. Your brother had jumped, yet shot a few instinctive rounds of water, splashing both you, Billy, and the wall.
“القرف! What the hell! What are you doing here? Who let you play?” Damian curses, holding his gun in a stationary position once you’ve all recovered from the attack. His suspicious green eyes narrow as they dart between the two of you.
“I figured it was only fair since you didn’t let me know about your little game and I got caught in the crossfire,” you reason, pointing to your shirt with the gun.
“I accidentally shot her thinking I had you cornered, so…” Billy’s words die on his tongue. Without sparing the kid a glance, you shove the super-soaker back in his hands before offering him a grateful smile. At least you’d hit Damian once, you figure. With that, you’re more than happy to abandon the boys to their games as you walk toward the laundry room to see if your clothes are finished drying.
“You didn’t tell me she was my age!” You head Billy yell before a series of exclamations and curses follow with the sound of splashing water and rapidly receding footsteps.
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As stupid as it was to find your thoughts continuing to drift back toward a certain brown hair, green-eyed boy, you couldn’t help it. Though you’ve grown more tolerable of one another over the past few months, you still can’t believe that one of Damian’s friends is who’s on your mind. Nevertheless, fate would seem to have an amusing time linking the two of you together, constantly running into the other.
You suppose it isn’t strange after all, especially when considering he is one of Damian’s friends… however, you find him over the at Manor more and more often after the initial first time he’d quite literally bumped into you.
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“Grab me a juice box? I forgot one too—“ Damian’s voice echoes throughout the theatre as Billy yells back an affirmative answer and heads back toward the kitchen.
“Oh, hey-" You greet, backing up as a familiar figure exits the home theatre.
“Hey- what’s up?” Billy asks, a friendly smile gracing his lips.
"Was just gonna get a snack before we start," you tell him, "Guess we're headed the same way then," you tease. Walking down the hallway and up the stairs to the kitchen, you're aware of your brother's friend just a few steps behind.
“Are you gonna watch with us?” Billy asks hopefully.
“I mean, if that’s okay, yeah, I was planning on it." You respond, not thinking about it too much. After all, you want this popcorn to be good, not a burned pile of charcoal.
“Oh, I didn’t mea-“ Billy goes to correct himself.
“It’s fine. I’ll be down in a minute, I’m just making my own popcorn because the boys would eat it all otherwise,” you joke. Surely since he's friends with Damian he knows what the guys are like.
“That’s smart- that way you don’t have to share and keep passing it back and forth the whole time.” Billy adds on.
“Yeah. Do you want some? I can make another little packet,” You offer.
“Sure! I can do it though, you don’t have t-“ He argues.
“-I don’t mind! I've gotta wait for it anyway and grab some bowls. So I'll see you down there!" With that reassurance, Billy offers you one last smile before taking the juice boxes downstairs.
The older boys and your Father had insisted you pick the movie considering it's your first movie night with the family, and while most of them had been dreading what genre you'd pick, everyone ended up excited to watch a classic comedy most of them hadn't seen in years. Snuggled up under the fluffy blankets with your popcorn and the laughs of your brothers all around, you couldn't help but enjoy the fun.
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Most of the summer felt like it was spent in your room. Whether it was trying to explore the things that truly make you happy, or being lonely in a place that still feels entirely all too unfamiliar despite the fact that it's been a couple months.
The material things did help at first, the new environment, the little gifts your Father and brothers would treat you to, like those little Squishmallows you'd always seen and wanted at the store, but never bought yourself. They were more expensive than you'd ever thought to casually pay. Nevertheless, you've started to make your room truly your own. With decorating, personalizing, and getting into your own sort of routine, it seems that everyone has been slowly becoming used to this new lifestyle.
Alfred insisted that as summer begins to come to a close, you all decide on either making time for a vacation, or perhaps you and Damian get involved in extra curriculars. In the sake of preparation for school, you'd taken up driving lessons as you'll soon be old enough to begin the process of obtaining your permit. Then there was also the announcements from the school you'll be attending in the fall; with sports and clubs gearing up for homecoming, tryouts were coming up. Your Father had insisted that Damian consider a sport this year, and Alfred equally has been trying to push you in any sort of direction that'll lead to getting you out of the house and your room.
Needless to say, he wouldn't let go of the idea that your mental health could use less isolation and more friends, hobbies, and pursuance of your 'passions' even if you're not entirely sure what those are yet. It didn't take long for you to succumb to your butler (essentially) grandpa's badgering. Though you have a plan in mind for what sport you'll be trying out for, you haven't revealed them to the family. The way they seem to share everything is... still new, and somewhat unsettling to you.
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forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic ,@moonlightsolo
hog taglist: @luvly-writer , @clairese1980 , @theroyalmanatee ,@azazel-nyx , @nightrose-18 , @vanessa-boo , @ih4temy5elfs0b4d , @agent-nobody-knows , @scarlett13 , @hoeinthehouse , @huhhuhh , @maxinehufflepuffprincess
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stephstars08 · 7 months
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Monster
Jason Todd x Reader
Summary: Jason and Y/N have known each other ever since they were kids however they lived two completely different lives. They would always see each other and talk every day until Jason became Robin, the Boy Wonder. Since Jason wasn’t able to visit her as himself, he visited her as his alter ego. Everything was going great until a tragic accident happened to Jason. After coming back to Gotham as a different persona he tries to reconnect with his childhood best friend. However, Jason isn’t just hiding another identity from Y/N, he’s also hiding his dark and murderous thoughts from her as well.
Warnings: Adult Language, Weapons, Death Threats, Murder, Violence, Angst, Fluff, Dark Themes, Anger Issues, Daddy Issues, Mention of Drugs, Past Trauma, Murderous Rage, Implied Smut, Anxiety, Sexual Tension and Contact, Kidnapping, Emotional Breakdown, and Possibly some Grammar Errors.
*ALL CHAPTERS WILL HAVE THEIR INDIVIDUAL WARNINGS!!!*
Author’s Note: Hello new and returning readers! I am finally back with a new series and this is also my first Jason Todd writing so I hope it’s good! New chapter will be posted every Friday starting this Friday!! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE ON MY TAG LIST FOR THIS STORY BY FRIDAY! I hope you all enjoy this story and please before you read please read the warnings! Also sorry about the summary, I’m not good at writing summaries!
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*NEW CHAPTER EVERY FRIDAY*
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
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