Tumgik
#Jason Todd x reader
winnysplayground · 3 days
Text
“he’s so babygirl”
babe he just killed somebody.
1K notes · View notes
kibblbread · 3 days
Text
Jason Todd likes to eat.
He can definitely go without food for prolonged periods, but he really loves food. Not to mention, with how big and strong he is, maintaining that physique takes a lot of calories. JT will prioritize quantity above just about anything though. If it’s cold that’s not preferable but he won’t complain. If it’s not the best quality he’d shrug it off. But not having enough to eat.. now he’s feeling downright miserable.
It brings him back to crime alley, back to after he rose from the dead with no one to turn to, back to a terribly depressed mental state. On rare occasions it’s even enough to make him cry in frustration.
Making time for himself seems like an insurmountable task more often than J would care to admit.
But since moving in, he hasn’t been hungry in a long time. Even on Jason’s busiest nights, there’s always food! You cook quite often and it takes a huge load off his shoulders. JT gets especially excited about new dishes since you typically rotate a couple of simple but hardy meals. Like super excited, lol. Upon arrival he can sniff out and pretty accurately guess what he’s eating that day. Sometimes you can’t be bothered and order take-out, after eating your fill, you stick it in the microwave for Jason to handle the rest. He’s happy either way.
Absolutely nothing tops snuggling into your chest after a good meal though. Not a damn thing. A full belly, kind lover, and warm bed is more than he could ever dream for.
673 notes · View notes
Text
Imagine being jason todd's ex. Like imagine seeing that tank of a man, throwing jokes around and carrying those massive thighs and making criminals piss their pants and you remember having sex with him?? Like. You had that and you fumbled?? He probably made you lunch and didn't let you out of bed cause he was squeezing and kissing the life out of you. He probably read books with you and made it so no one would THINK to bother you in any way. You probably saw him fresh out of the shower, hair damp, that goddamn mf grin on his face. Imagine seeing red hood on the news or in action and you know you were sitting on his lap while he was cleaning his guns. You had that man wrapped around your finger and you fumbled??? I would be hospitalized
516 notes · View notes
st0rm3tv · 2 days
Text
JASON TODD yearns for you. He wants you in every way, shape, and form. You're his everything. You're his reason for being. When he thinks of the perfect being, he thinks of you, flaws and all. He takes you as you are. Everything about you, he loves, even the bad. Because you wouldn't be you without them. You'd be someone else. Not his love. The way he looks at you, it's like you crafted every star from hand, every crater in the moon, and every land mass on earth. Every touch he places on you feels like he thinks he's unworthy to be in your presence. JASON TODD needs you. You're a constant. You're his constant. When he looks at his future, he sees you. He sees love. He loves you. He's in love with you. A light in his second life, one he would never take for granted. <3
413 notes · View notes
threestarsinline · 2 days
Text
The Gala
Jason Todd x reader one-shot
Summary: It was supposed to be simple. Just accompany Jason to the party. It was also supposed to be quick. Just go in, talk to a few people, and out. But then, you find yourself meeting your boyfriend's family.
Word Count: 9.3K
Category: Fluff (established relationship) and a tiny, tiny little bit of angst
Warnings: Rich people?? Bahahsjsjs Mentions of alcohol
Author’s note: My Wayne gala fic debut (with a super original title, I know jskdks), hope you like it!
Tumblr media
You look at yourself once again in the mirror. The truth is that you love the image that looks back at you. You feel comfortable and true to yourself, as well as beautiful. The dress that you’re wearing playing a big part in it. Your fingers slowly trace the hem of the bright red of the soft fabric.
You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You know that the dress probably won’t live up to the standard of the women that will be at the place but for you, it’s beautiful and elegant, making you feel like a seven year old girl wearing her favorite princess dress and giving you the confidence that you will need tonight.
Even if the style of the dress is not as chic or as sophisticated as others, you’re sure that the red will stand out. The thought increases your nerves. You don’t usually wear red but when you saw this dress you knew that you had to buy it, you could easily see yourself in it. And also, you couldn’t wait to see Jason’s reaction.
You knew that he would love it, or so you hoped. He always liked it when you wore red, or anything for that matter. No matter how you looked he always looked at you with the same silly smile and caring eyes. But there was something in wanting to see him swoon all over you. You smile thinking of him. Even if the night ends in a disaster, you both will be at each other's side.
Just as you do a little spin to see the movement of your skirt just a bit up your knees, the doorbell rings. When you open the door Jason is looking around stressfully, breathing heavily, his hands alternating on running through his hair as if trying to fix it and adjusting his tie. He doesn’t seem to notice that you have opened the door.
“Hey,” you say softly. He turns to you.
“Hi,” he says breathlessly in return, and by the way that he’s taking you in, you can tell that it isn’t for the same reason as before. You look down shyly and put a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You then take him in, and to say that you’re not ready for the full sight in front of you is an understatement. Jason was already handsome but to see him in a suit… Your insides are doing crazy things.
“Y/N, you look… incredible.”
“Thank you.” You take a small step and on your toes you give him a kiss on the cheek. “I have to say that you look great. I think that I could get used to seeing you in a suit.” He smiles warmly but suddenly he seems to come out of his daze.
“Listen, I’m so sorry I’m late and that I kept you waiting. I got caught up before and then this stupid tie wouldn’t work with me and…” You shush him softly with a kiss and then shake your head.
“Don’t worry, I just got finished too.”
He sighs in relief, and then, with a life of their own, before you can help yourself, your hands lift to fix his hair to give it his usual style but less messy, although as always, the white streak stays as rebel as ever. Your hands slide down his neck to the lapels of his jacket and then adjust his tie that was crooked to the left.
“You know how to do that?” he says, referring to the tie.
“Not really. I have just always wanted to do that. You know, like in movies and so.” You can’t help but giggle a bit while you say that.
“Well, that makes two of us.” He takes your hands and places a kiss on them. You sigh happily, the soft gesture making you melt. You’re sure that this man is going to be the death of you. The care and affection with which he always touches and looks at you was both deadly and invigorating. “Ready?”
“I think so.”
“Because if not, you know that I wouldn’t mind one bit to stay here and take a more careful look at this gorgeous dress.” His hands find your waist and after a peck on your lips, his own meet your neck.
“I know. And that’s why we have to get going, we’re already late.” You put a hand in his chest to place some distance with the temptation of his lips, that now are pouting.
“‘A queen is never late, everyone else is simply early,’” he deadpans.
A laugh threatens to escape from your throat. “You just did not.”
“What?” he says feigning innocence, but the smirk on his lips gives him away.
“You just did not quote the queen of Genovia,” you say amused.
“Okay, first, Julie Andrews is always right. And second, you were the one that showed me that masterpiece so, you should have seen it coming.” He’s grinning from ear to ear. You wish that you could always see him like this. So happy and carefree.
“Can't say that you’re not right,” you reply while hugging him, resting your head on his chest and letting his calming scent surround you.
He then takes your face in his hands and with your noses touching he whispers, “I love you.” 
Your smile at those words never faltered. “I love you too.”
Tumblr media
When you two reach the manor Jason drives past the main gate and goes directly to the secondary one that leads to the back entrance of the manor in order to avoid all the fancy cars and limos that litter the road of the main one.
Even from outside you can tell that the party is already in full swing, the windows of the main living room that in these cases often transforms into a dance hall, the only ones with light in them and cluttered with people.
Jason parks the car but his hands do not leave the steering wheel. His grip tightens and untightens around it as he takes a deep breath and looks towards the back door of the manor. You know well how even though the manor is a home to Jason, in events like this it almost feels like a cage.
“Hey,” you whisper softly while you take his hands into yours. Immediately, Jason’s eyes leave the manor and turn towards you. “It’s gonna be okay. I’m here. And it’ll be quick, we just have to show face for a little while, just like we talked about. And then as fast as we’re in, we’ll be out,” you reassure him while softly rubbing the back of his hands with your thumbs.
Jason gulps and nods, trying to will the nerves away, though his hands have stopped flexing and now lay relaxed in your grip ever since you touched them.
“Or we can leave right now. Forget all this. Spend the evening alone, just you and me. Maybe even some Batburger?” you tease with a smile, letting him know that he always has an out with you. Your calming words seem to work as a small chuckle leaves him and he lifts your hands to kiss them once again.
He shakes his head.
You tilt yours. “You sure?”
“Yeah. I just needed a moment. Besides, if I don’t go in I’ll never hear the end of it. Also, if we get this out of the way now, we won’t have to come to another one for a long while. And like you said, it’ll be quick.”
You nod and give his hands an encouraging squeeze. “Exactly. And remember, if you want to leave early, you just tell me.” 
He nods, a lot more sure of himself than just a moment ago. “Let’s go.”
“Let’s go,” you echo.
Jason gets out of the car and you know better than to try and get out yourself, having learned in the very early stages of your relationship that if Jason can help it, you will never have to open a door again. And like always, your door opens and he extends a hand to help you out.
Despite the temperature dropping slightly during the night with the summer reaching its end, it’s a very nice evening. A soft breeze grazes your arms and the cut of your dress but it’s not enough to make you feel cold, mainly due to the warm hand that settles on your lower back. In the sky, the stars that would be impossible to see downtown accompany the moon in illuminating the night.
You two make your way through the gravel path that leads to the back door hand in hand, giving each other courage for the night that awaits ahead.
Once inside, it’s like entering another world entirely. Chatter and glass clinks fill the air and you’re just glad that at least this way your entrance to the party won’t make that much of a fuss as you would have done if you had used the main door.
“I was starting to think that you weren’t going to appear, Master Jason.”
At the sound of the voice both you and Jason stop dead in your tracks near the kitchen, almost like two kids getting caught trying to sneak out instead of sneaking in.
“Alfred!” Jason greets him exaggeratedly, trying to distract from the fact that you two have been caught arriving late. The British man can’t help but mirror Jason’s big smile, even as it breaks his teasing smirk. You smile as you watch them hug and then Alfred turns to you.
“Oh, and you’ve brought Miss Y/N as well! So great to see you again, dear,” he says as he also gives you a quick hug.
“You too, Alfred,” you reply with a smile. “Though it’s just Y/N, please.”
“You know I’m not going to do that, Miss Y/N.” The crinkles of the butler’s smile reminding you that trying to argue with him was a futile attempt.
You had only met him once before but that had been enough to get to know each other quite well and to already care for each other.
You had met him some weeks before, when Jason took you to the manor for the very first time one weekend as a kind of romantic getaway, as it had been left deserted and empty by Alfred and Bruce due to a business/Batman trip and Tim and Damian were away with their respective friends. It was an opportunity like no other.
It had been a wonderful long summery weekend, spent cooking together, lounging in the pool while sharing lazy kisses in the water with your arms and legs wrapped around him, his hands holding you as the sun set behind you, and watching movies in the home theater. You had never felt more at peace or relaxed.
And then, Alfred had come back a couple of days early. You and Jason had been cooking lunch (well, Jason had been cooking while you admired him perched on the counter), when Alfred entered, surprised to see anyone in the manor. After the initial surprise, friendly introductions had been made since from all of the members of his family, Alfred was the only one that Jason wasn’t wary of you meeting.
Jason could only thank whatever was out there that it had been Alfred who had come back early and not Bruce. He wasn’t ready to handle that yet.
Alfred joined you two for lunch and even though you were slightly nervous at the beginning at meeting a member of Jason’s family, you were glad that it was Alfred since he instantly made you feel welcome and at ease. Jason had watched your conversations with a small smile, glad to see and not surprised at all that you got along so well.
After lunch, Alfred left you two be to enjoy the rest of the day as well as the next day since it was your last in the manor. However, he still insisted on making you two breakfast the next day and you got to try Alfred’s famous pancakes. There was no doubt from where Jason had gotten his excellent culinary skills.
You still crossed paths with Alfred a couple more times but they hadn’t been awkward at all. During that short time of seeing you and Jason interact, Alfred saw just how happy you two made and loved each other. He could clearly see the certainty of your relationship and he couldn’t be happier for the young boy that had once been the second Robin. He totally deserved the happiness that you brought him.
And as Alfred insists on calling you Miss Y/N, with the sounds of the party drifting into the kitchen, just like he had done the first time that he met you, the same thought crosses his mind.
That the only way in which he would ever call you something other than that would be when you became Mrs. Todd. Something that he was certain would happen from the very first moment that he saw you laugh with Jason before he had made his presence known that summer afternoon. A truth as plain as the sun.
Now, seeing that the British man isn’t giving up upon your insistence on calling you just by your first name, you sigh defeatedly. “Alright.”
At that, Alfred smiles and turns back to Jason. “Your brothers will be glad to see you’ve been able to make it.”
Jason rolls his eyes. “Sure.”
You smile at his antics and squeeze his hand. The thing was that at each Wayne gala, as it was to be expected, a few members of the family should be present. But considering the fact that all, literally all, the Waynes hated the galas, having Waynes at a gala had long been a recurring problem.
No one still talks about the time that at one of them, not a single Wayne had appeared. The press had had a field day with it and it took the Waynes months to repair the damage.
For a rich family in Gotham that lead a double life as vigilantes, they sure hated the appearances and masks that came with having to entertain the socialites. You have always found the fact extremely entertaining.
And so, in order to avoid the great gala disaster, as Jason had explained to you, they had come up with a system. Taking turns attending the galas and doing so in different groups as they all knew that no one, absolutely no one should have to suffer through a gala alone (except Bruce, who sometimes had to go alone, downsides of being the face of the company).
For example, a group could be Bruce, Dick and Damian (who, lucky for him, has never had to experience the torture of going to one alone, still being a kid and all), or Jason and Dick, but never just Jason and Tim alone, the two always looking to make an escape and neither of them keeping the other in check. However, if they were accompanied by someone else it was manageable. The pairings and different groupings going on and on.
But tonight, however, it was the turn for all four of the batboys to be there, Bruce out on a mission. And so here you were, having offered to accompany your boyfriend when he told you that he had to go to the gala. Jason had said that it wasn’t necessary but you could see the relief in his eyes when you assured him that you wanted to go with him, knowing how hard these things could be sometimes.
Though not liking large crowds either, you were no better. What a pair did you two make. But you knew that together, you could face this night. Now, apart from the overall challenge of enduring the night, came the very real possibility of finally meeting Jason’s brothers. It wasn’t that Jason was trying to keep you away from them or hiding you, they did know about you, it’s just that it was a delicate issue that he wanted to handle at his own time and when he was ready.
You understood that and of course never pushed him on the topic. You knew that if it were for Jason, he would scream that you two were together a hundred times a day, he had no problem holding your hand in public nor kissing you until you felt dizzy in the middle of the street.
Either way, when you two realized that you could meet them, Jason came to the conclusion that it wasn’t so bad. That way they’ll stop pestering him about meeting you and you would do it in a more relaxed ambience than what a formal dinner with all of his family, including Bruce, could be, with all of their eyes fixed on you and asking you millions of questions. At least this way, with the gala, distractions were easy to come by if a quick escape was necessary.
So, if you met them, good. If you didn’t, good as well.
Though still, the nerves persisted.
After exchanging a couple of phrases more with Alfred, he returned to his duties at the party and with your arm looped through Jason’s, you stepped into the space that had been turned into a ballroom of sorts, all of Gotham’s elite there. Either to donate to a Wayne fundraiser (sadly, the least likely of them all), invest in Wayne Enterprises (more likely), drink (very likely), or to snoop around the mysterious Wayne manor and find out more about the peculiar family (the most likely of them all).
You have to say that you're impressed with what has been done with the space. Added chandeliers and carefully placed lamps give the room a golden glow, highlighting all the luxury of the attendees, from expensive watches, to even more expensive necklaces, and making all the glasses of champagne around the room sparkle.
On one side, a bar has been set up, on the other, on a small stage, musicians play for the dancing couples on the dance floor that has been put up in the center. And scattered around the room, high tables where people place their drinks and gather for conversations.
The lack of chairs does not go unnoticed, just a couple every few tables and the stools that surround the bar. The lack no doubt made deliberately, that way, no one would settle for long, either forcing them to mingle and spend some money on the gala or directly leave. The Waynes really do not like to have people in their house. You have to stifle a laugh at the thought, you could relate to that.
Though it makes perfect sense, given that no one wants too many people on the floor above the headquarters for Gotham’s vigilantes for long. You also know that in whatever way they can, they always try to have the galas either at Wayne Tower or at any other place, but sometimes, having one at the manor once in a while was inevitable.
You can’t help but tense up as you notice more and more people start to look towards you two. You don’t even notice that your anxious nature has gotten the better of you and that your grip on Jason’s arm has tightened until his other hand covers yours, the touch immediately grounding and soothing you. You look up at him and take a deep breath as his green eyes look at you encouragingly and gratefully, telling you that you can do this and that he’s thankful that you’re here with him.
You smile before squeezing his arm back and then you two plunge into battle. Showtime.
You make small talk with a few of the guests before approaching the bar to get something to drink. As you wait for your drinks you feel Jason lean down to whisper in your ear.
“I’m going to the bathroom real quick, I’ll be right back. You okay?”
You nod with a smile, telling him that it’s okay before he gives a quick kiss to your temple and then disappears into the crowd.
Your eyes scan the room as you take the refreshment that has been placed in front of you and take a sip, trying not to draw too much attention upon yourself while you wait. You’re no vigilante but as a person that prefers alone time, assessing the room before making any social interaction goes without saying. You’re even thinking of seeking Alfred and asking him if he needs help with anything when your eyes clock Jason again on the other side of the room, cornered by a bunch of socialites.
He has a pleasing smile on his face as he listens to what they’re telling him. To any other person, it might seem like he’s genuinely interested, but you can read him like a book. The corners of his smile are tense, apart from the fact that it doesn't reach his eyes, and his too constant nodding tells you how he is feigning the interest. His eyes find yours for a moment before returning to the lady speaking to him and in that split millisecond you can see how his smile turns real for you, before becoming fake once again.
You leave your glass on the counter of the bar to make your way to him and save him from the people crowding him when suddenly-
“Care for a dance?” a smooth voice says at your side.
You turn to decline when you’re met with eyes of a vibrant shade of blue, a boyish youth and mischief in them, but also slightly hardened with years of experience dealing with the worst of Gotham. His black hair is perfectly styled, a winning and charming smile on his lips and clad in a black suit with a bow tie that highlights all of his features. You can see how he’s a handsome man but still to you, he doesn’t hold a candle to Jason.
Of course you know who he is.
Gotham’s golden boy.
“Dick Grayson.”
“Y/N Y/L/N.” His smile widens and you realize that this is happening whether you want it or not. You’re meeting one of Jason’s brothers. Your eyes flick back to Jason but he’s no longer surrounded by the socialites. In fact, he’s nowhere to be found. He must’ve managed to escape somehow. Looks like you’re going to have to face this alone. You had even been starting to think that this moment wouldn’t come since you hadn’t seen any of Jason’s brothers since you arrived.
You turn back to Dick and he’s still in the exact same position, leaning with one arm on the bar, carefully watching you with a knowing smile. Everything in his demeanor open, easy.
“It’s nice to finally meet you,“ he says, extending his hand.
Your force your body to release the small tension that it has accumulated and with a small smile you shake his hand. “You too.”
“Glad to see that Jason hasn’t made you up. We were starting to doubt that you really existed,” he comments playfully.
You know that he isn’t intimidating you or trying to scare you, merely wanting to meet you, know more about Jason’s life, see the reason why he’s the happiest that they have ever seen him.
“I’m very real, yes.”
“So, how about that dance?”
You pause for a second. “I’m not the best dancer.”
“Come on, please. How am I supposed to get to know my new sister-in-law otherwise?”
“By just talking?”
He chuckles. “Alright, fair enough. How about this, how am I supposed to get to know my sister-in-law without gossiping rich people interrupting us over and over again?” Dick nods to the side and you see how a few of the guests are looking towards you two, no doubt about to walk up to you and force you to establish conversation.
“Lead the way,” you end up saying and Dick’s smile beams even more, his joyous nature and openness making you feel at ease. You feel like he’s trying to make this easy for you, knowing how awkward meeting your boyfriend’s family could be.
He then offers you his arm to guide you to the dance floor and in no time you’re joining all the couples waltzing around it.
“So… Y/N, tell me. What are your intentions with our dear Jaybird?” he jokes in mock seriousness while arching an eyebrow.
“Jaybird?” you ask, never having heard the nickname before but already liking it.
“Oh, Y/N, I have so many anecdotes to tell you. We’re going to have so much fun.”
You smile at the prospect of hearing stories about Jason. “Can’t wait. But to answer your question, my intentions are to just be with him. For as long as he wants me.”
Dick nods, as if you just confirmed something that he already knew. “I feel like that’s going to be a long time.” You feel your cheeks warm at his words. You really hope that it is too. Forever, if you can help it. “Though are you sure that you want to put up with him for so long? He can be insufferable,” he adds, and you chuckle.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
Afterwards, he asks you about your job and your family, and you ask him about life in Blüdhaven. You’re glad for his easygoingness, allowing you to feel comfortable and a sense of camaraderie and friendship already between you. You’re also glad that you’re dancing since you’re sure that if you weren’t, conversation wouldn’t have flowed as easily without the privacy that it has given you.
“My turn, Grayson,” a voice suddenly speaks.
You two stop dancing and turn your heads to the side, and then slightly down to find a young boy. His dark combed back hair and his straight posture making him a shadow of his father, his green eyes looking up at you expectantly and his tan skin inherited from his mother. Talia al Ghul.
“No, it isn’t,” Dick replies. 
“Yes, it is,” Damian retorts, holding Dick’s gaze. It’s like they are challenging one another while also having a mental conversation.
Finally, Dick sighs. “Fine. But only if Y/N is okay with that."
“It’s alright,” you say softly.
“See?” Damian insists and Dick rolls his eyes. You smile at their interaction and then Dick turns back to you.
“Thanks for dancing with me, Y/N. It’s been really nice finally getting to talk to you.”
“Likewise.”
Dick squeezes your hands in goodbye before letting go, Damian taking his spot to dance with you. “See you around.” Dick says and you nod and watch as he takes his leave, until a throat clears in front of you and you begin dancing once again.
“You’re Todd’s girlfriend then? Y/L/N?”
“That’s me. You must be Damian. It’s nice to meet you.” Damian nods solemnly before staring intensely at you, as if deciphering you. His movements are graceful and elegant, even more purposeful than Dick’s even. You suppose that all the grace must have something to do with growing up with ninjas and practically being raised like royalty.
Not one to back out, you hold his gaze and stare back at him. He’s shorter than you but you have no doubt that in no time he’ll be taller than you.
“You’re a great dancer, Damian,” you finally say and you can see how something in him changes, no longer putting up the intimidating facade, allowing himself to relax slightly.
“Thanks. Mother taught me.”
“That’s nice. I hope I’m not making you look too much like a fool.”
Damian shrugs. “You’re alright.”
You smile, taking his version of a compliment as a win. Then you take another look around the room, wondering where Jason could be. Maybe Alfred has asked for his help on something. You turn back to Damian, who looks around the space uninterested.
“I’m guessing you don’t like these galas much,” you say, trying to get him to open up a bit more.
“They are… a responsibility.”
“Yeah, well, I’d much rather prefer doing something else. Like going to the aquarium or the museum.” Damian’s eyes shot back to yours like a flash, a small sparkle in them.
Bingo.
You try to contain your triumphant smile. “Have you seen the new art exhibit? Jason told me that you like drawing,” you continue.
And just like that, whatever it was that Damian was wary of disappears as you two make conversation, discussing different painters, Damian’s art and your own hobbies. Then, for a second, Damian pauses in thought, like a jury about to deliver their decision, making you wonder what he’s about to say. 
“You’re cool. Todd was right about you,” he finally says as the current song ends and you two come to a stop.
You smile softly in thanks. “Glad to hear that.”
“Though I’m not yet quite sure what you could be seeing in Todd. You’re clearly way cooler than him.”
That makes you chuckle and you don’t miss how a smile twitches on Damian’s face.
“Thanks, I guess? Though he’s not that bad. Not at all.”
Damian just shrugs at your statement but you have the feeling that behind all the picking, there’s fondness and a brotherly bond between him and Jason.
“Anyway, I have to go feed my animals. It was nice meeting you, Y/N.” Your jaw almost drops, but you manage to avoid it before your lips twist into a wide smile.
Damian’s calling you by your first name. When Jason has told you that he never does that with anyone. Not even Dick.
“You too, Damian.”
He nods in goodbye before going towards the exit of the ballroom. You leave the dance floor and take a deep breath. Well, that wasn’t so bad. It was fun, actually.
You decide that you need some air in order to take all of the recent events in and head towards the open patio door that looks out to the gardens. Even though you can still hear the party, as the door is still open, the change of ambience is very much welcomed. You inhale the fresh air before releasing a content sigh at having a moment for yourself.
You lean on the railing surrounding the few steps that separate you from the grass as you gaze up at the clear sky, the moon illuminating the patio and the late summer evening breeze creating ripples along the surface of the pool. It’s a nice break from the scorching nights that Gotham can have along the summer. You can’t wait for the fall.
As you let yourself relax in the quiet evening, you think back to what has just happened. You just met two of Jason’s brothers. And everything went well. You still can’t believe it. You let out a soft chuckle at the thought that your social skills haven’t failed you this time. Despite usually needing a lot of time with a person to open up and build trust, you’re surprised at how easy it came to you with Dick and Damian, already getting along and having the feeling that you’re going to become good friends. Family, someday.
Maybe it’s due to Dick’s easygoing personality or the things that you have in common with Damian but you feel like it’s more than that. The knowledge that these kind of connections don’t come easy for them either, given all the secrets that they have to keep and the fact that they don’t have to tiptoe around you. The fact that you all love Jason Todd dearly.
You’re just glad that you click with them as well as you did all that time ago with Jason. Who, by the way, is still MIA. It’s been a good while since you saw him. Where could he be?
“Do you want some?” a voice suddenly says, interrupting your thoughts and making you turn towards its source.
Well, looks like the meeting-your-boyfriend’s-family night isn’t over.
Tim Drake stands on the doorway, holding two glasses of champagne. He’s wearing a suit as well but his appearance isn’t as neat as Dick’s or Damian’s. His hair is slightly tousled and his tie is loosened around his neck. His blue eyes, a shade lighter than Dick’s, look kindly at you.
“Sure, thanks,” you say as you take the glass that he offers you. The truth was that you weren’t a big drinker, only having a few sips on scattered special occasions during the year, like champagne on New Year’s Day or the rare instances in which you found yourself in glamorous parties like this.
You take a small sip of the sparkly drink as Tim comes to stand next to you.
“So, what do you think of the gala? Having fun?”
“It’s alright. You all do know how to throw a party,” you answer.
“What can I say? If there’s one thing we’re good at is appearances,” Tim says jokingly.
You nod with a smile while taking another sip, though this time you can’t help the grimace that you make at the growing bitter taste of alcohol in your mouth.
“Not a fan?”
“Not really,” you respond honestly, deciding to leave the glass on the outdoor table for now.
“Me neither, actually.”
And then, your eyes widen when, just like nothing, Tim literally throws the content of his glass, his untouched and what you’re sure of is a very, very, expensive champagne towards the grass and leaves his now empty glass next to yours.
Seriously, what was wrong with rich people?
You shake the thought as you and Tim start making friendly conversation. He’s telling you a story in which Jason faceplanted once during training, when it strikes you that it really is amazing how all the Robins somehow actually physically look like family despite not being blood-related. And it’s not just the coincidence that all of them have clear colored eyes and dark hair, but rather the way in which they hold themselves, something in their stance and attitude giving them a similar aura. An aura of shared hardships and experiences.
“I’m sorry that it took so long for us to meet,” Tim says after a small moment of peaceful silence. You shake your head and you can feel the shift in the air as his expression turns more serious and continues talking before you can say anything.
“I know that we can be a lot, and you haven’t even met all of us.” You tilt your head, listening, waiting to see where he’s going with this. “Things between us and Jason are good, though of course, like with any family, there are some rough patches.” He pauses for a second, leaning with his hip on the metal railing while crossing his arms. “We really wanted to meet you and we feared that something that we hadn’t realized had been going on with Jason and that he was retreating again by refusing to introduce you to us.”
You shake your head again. “It’s not that at all, Tim, I promise. Things are good. He just gets doubtful sometimes and needs to take things at his own time.”
Tim nods, letting you know that he understands. “I’m just sorry that we boarded you like this, we thought it might be easier taking the pressure out of it. Instead of having a formal family dinner or something, just meet you today in case that Jason decided to bring you. All in all, I’m glad we did, we probably wouldn’t have met you for a lot longer, probably until it was strictly necessary, if we hadn’t intervened.”
You’re processing all the information when before you can reply, you finally hear Jason’s voice again.
“Y/N!” he calls as he approaches you after spotting you outside. “I’m so, so sorry for leaving you alone. I was ambushed by the guests before going to the bathroom, then Alfred asked me to go help him with something in the kitchen and then Dick couldn’t fucking wait to ask me something about a case. It was just one thing after the other, I’m so sorry,” he rambles, a hand running through his hair in distress, knowing how you hate this kind of events as much as him.
Just as he finishes his rant, he finally reaches you and as he takes your hands in his, you can visibly see how his distressed state morphs into a relieved one just by being next to you. It’s like during your unexpected time apart Jason had been underwater the whole time and has just been finally allowed to come up for air to the surface and fill his lungs just by seeing you and being near you again.
You just shake your head and gently bring a hand to the nape of his neck to press your foreheads together so that he can ground himself and focus on you, showing him that you’re okay. You just know he’s feeling guilty for leaving you on your own when you two promised to be together to face the night.
“It’s okay,” you say softly in a low voice, trying to calm him.
And then, after connecting the dots between what Tim and Jason have just said, everything clicks. It’s not a coincidence that you’ve met Jason’s brothers one right after the other and that Jason just so conveniently had been missing from your side to prevent that from happening. You can’t help the small smile that pulls at your lips upon realizing what has happened, finding the Waynes’ antics and dramaticness quite entertaining.
“And don’t worry, I had company,” you add.
And just as you say that, you can see how Jason feels movement to his right and turns his head like a hawk to find Tim shifting on his feet. Jason hadn’t seen him earlier since you were the only one visible through the open door and once outside, Tim’s side of the terrace was covered in shadows.
You see the exact moment in which Jason’s gaze hardens staring at Tim, realizing just exactly what had actually happened, all of his family plotting to distract him so that they could meet you. You know that Jason isn’t actually angry, just slightly annoyed from the ruse and from being kept away from you, and now he’s channeling all of that towards Tim, making it seem bigger than what it actually is.
“Tim…” Jason says through gritted teeth in a threatening tone as he separates himself from you and starts stomping towards Tim. It’s almost comically funny how Tim immediately scrambles and bolts to the other side of the terrace, putting the outdoor table between him and Jason, extending his arms in front of him to protect himself as if he was some defenseless animal and not a well-trained vigilante.
You almost have to stifle a laugh.
Sibling dynamics at its finest.
“Listen, Jason, I-” Tim starts to plead his case but before Jason gets too far away from you, you grab his hand again. And it’s incredible the way in which Jason turns towards you and immediately his posture softens. Tim doesn’t waste the opportunity and escapes into the gala again, leaving you and Jason alone.
“It’s alright, they just wanted to meet me,” you say and Jason sighs, deciding to let the matter go and just come back to your arms, his hands on your waist, giving a small subconscious squeeze.
“Yes, but they had no right to play with us,” he answers, pressing your foreheads together once again.
“I know. But, hey,” you lift your hand to push some hair away from his forehead, “nothing bad happened. I’m still here.”
Jason nods and his gaze softens before closing his eyes, relishing in your touch. You close your eyes as well and you two stay in your embrace for a moment. Letting the night envelop you, surrounding yourselves with the evening sounds of the faded chatter from the party, the breeze rustling the bushes, the water in the pool, the night time insects and an owl in the distance.
“I think it’s time for us to leave,” Jason finally says, looking at you once again, having had enough of the social night.
“Yes,” you wholeheartedly agree, wanting to have your boyfriend all for yourself.
With that said, Jason nods, kisses your forehead and takes your hand firmly in his in order to not lose you again and you two make your way out of the gala. You don’t even bother to say goodbye to anybody. As you two leave, on the side of the ballroom, Dick, Tim, Damian and Alfred all stand in line, watching you fondly, glad to finally have met you and seen how happy Jason is with you. Before disappearing from view you give them a small wave and they smile.
You still have to meet Bruce, but that’s a problem for another day.
Tumblr media
When you finally get home and Jason closes the door behind you, the two of you having already decided that he would spend the night at your apartment, you feel a weight lift off your shoulders. Finally home. You take a deep breath, shedding your social armor. Jason feels relief too at having finally left the manor, because even though the place will always be a home to him, the very definition of the word changed when he met you.
Jason watches you mesmerized as you leave your purse on a table and then move to the kitchen to drink a cold glass of water. He stands idly in your living room following your every move, a cast spell on him.
You’re beautiful.
Even though your hair isn’t as perfectly done as it was at the beginning of the evening and there’s a tired drag to your feet, you are. You always are.
He still can’t believe that you’re with him.
The way that you move around him as comfortably as you’d do if you were alone amazes him. It amazes him that you feel safe enough with him to just be yourself, not putting on any mask like you did in the gala with the attendees. He’s just so immensely grateful that you let him see you like this, open and being so undoubtedly yourself.
You’re saying something about cooking something quick or maybe ordering takeout when you brace yourself with a hand on the back of a chair to take off your heels with the other. But before you can take off your shoe, Jason softly grabs your hand, stopping you mid-rant.
He pulls you to follow him and you don’t put any kind of resistance, letting a comfortable silence fall upon you two. The only sounds the passing cars on the street and the steps of your heels on the floor. Once you reach the couch Jason makes you sit on it and you watch as he kneels in front of you and then, with a care and gentleness that no one would expect from the man known as Red Hood, he begins to undo the straps of your heels.
And there’s just something in the sight in front of you that makes your heart flip in your chest. How someone as big as him gets down on his knees before you, for once him being the one looking up at you instead of the other way around, almost as if worshiping the ground you walk on, as if you were the one that brought him back to life and not some mystical pit.
Now it’s you the one that watches him enchanted, wondering how you were so lucky as to have him love you. He takes one of your heels off, his eyes never leaving yours for a second, and then gives your free foot a slight massage to help the soreness out of it and you sigh in relief.
How is he even real?
And then, just before slipping the other heel off, with one of his warm hands on your lower calf, you watch with your heart in your throat how he kisses the inside of your knee.
You let out a small gasp and it’s crazy how much your heart is racing because you just know that he did it just for the heck of it, an act so loving, so simple, with no major intention rather than the selfish feeling of wanting to feel your skin against his lips.
But what raises goosebumps all throughout your body is not the action in itself, but rather the dark sparkle that crosses his eyes upon hearing your gasp, promising you something for later, for when he’s drawing shapes all across your body, as if tracing a map signaling a treasure. Except that the map itself is the treasure and he’s just taking his time exploring it, enjoying it, admiring it, worshiping it.
Jason then finally takes off your other heel and gives your foot the same quick massage treatment as the other one. When he’s done he gets back up on his feet and offers you a hand.
You take it and he pulls you to your feet again. And then, in the same silent comfort that has settled over you, with the same care and gentleness that Jason has treated you with, you slowly undo his tie, your gaze still fixed on his, saying a million different things that do not need to be said out loud. Most of them having to do with how much you love him.
After you discard the tie somewhere on the couch, you undo the first couple of buttons of his shirt, releasing him from the uptightness that comes with them and you feel his muscles relax even further under your hands. Next, you slip his jacket from his shoulders and he helps you take it off of him while he looks at you with the same intensity that you regard him with, reveling in how you take care of him.
Then, Jason rolls his sleeves up a bit his forearms before taking one of your hands in his and then, with his other arm around your waist, pulls you flush against his chest, practically fusing you two together, as if he could never pull you close enough, needing you as physically closer as possible, just as much as he needed oxygen, if not more.
“We didn’t have a chance to dance,” he whispers then with your faces inches from each other, still not disturbing the peaceful silence.
You hum in agreement and before you know it, you’re already swaying softly together in the living room, both of you with your eyes closed, your head resting on the crook of his neck and his on your hair. There’s no music but it doesn’t need to be, you feel so at peace and content, none of the opulent galas in the world could compare to a quiet evening with Jason.
You have no idea how much time you’ve spent there, barefoot and wrapped in Jason’s arms, swaying to the sounds of Gotham’s nightlife and your own heartbeats, only knowing that you would gladly spend forever like this.
“Thank you.”
You lift your head to find that Jason’s already looking at you.
“For what?” you ask in the same soft tone as him, a lilt of confusion in your voice.
“For coming today.” Before you can respond he keeps talking. “For sticking around. For putting up with my family.” A pause. His eyes leave yours to look to the side. He shrugs. “Just… for being with me, I guess.”
Your gaze softens and you feel a pang in your chest as you see Jason’s insecurities eating away at him. You stop your swaying and bring your hands to Jason’s face to make him focus on you, his hands moving instinctively to hold your waist. But Jason’s still avoiding your gaze and you hate the doubt that you see creeping in your favorite shade of green.
“I’m always going to be here. I’m right where I want to be. I love you. And I’m not putting up with anything, I want you. I want to be part of all the parts in your life,” you say, softly caressing his cheek with your thumb, having the suspicion that these doubts have something to do with meeting his brothers tonight.
“I know. I just…” Jason takes a deep breath closing his eyes, taking a moment to organize his thoughts before looking at you again. “I just can’t believe that you’re still here. I have this… this feeling that one way or another I’m going to screw up and lose you.”
You open your mouth to refute him but Jason shakes his head, presses his forehead to yours, closes his eyes to concentrate on what he wants to say, and continues before you can say anything. “And I know, trust me, I know that you love me and that you’re not going to leave. You show me every single day. I was just afraid that if neither myself nor me being Red Hood hadn’t driven you away, my family surely would.”
When Jason finishes he doesn’t move, his forehead still against yours and his eyes still closed, as if he doesn’t want to face what may come next, and his hands on your waist in the same position, if anything, holding onto you even tighter.
Holding onto you as if it were the last time, as if his confession would finally be the thing that would drive you away. You close your eyes as well for a second and take a deep breath.
How can you even begin to express how much you love this man?
Your heart is bursting with how much you feel for him. The love that you hold for him begins in the depth of it and as your heart pumps blood through your body, it also pumps that love through every single vein, nerve and cell in it. From the top of your head to the tips of your toes. It’s something that lies beneath every single movement and action that you make, to the point where you’re not sure if what sustains you are your bones or your love for him.
And that love of course, is interlaced with the pain that comes from watching the one you love hurt. You know that Jason is telling you the truth, that he knows that you’re not going anywhere and that you love him. But there’s this underlying fear in him, an instinct acquired from having lost all the good things in his life, things that he loved, from both his mothers to wearing the Robin mantle, that makes him subconsciously always expect the worst.
That’s why he prolonged you meeting his family for so long.
Without knowing, he’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the moment in which the rug will be pulled from under him and he’ll fall into the void. He survived all the previous things, more or less, but he isn’t sure that he would if you were to leave his life.
Because now everything, every single piece of him is rooted in you, like the earth orbiting the sun, the very thing that allows life on the planet in the first place. And that’s what you are to him, a source of warmth, comfort and life. And he’s sure that if he didn’t have that he would crumble. He might technically survive it but he wouldn’t be the same.
But the thing is that just as much as he's rooted in you, you’re rooted to him. He’s the anchor to your boat lost in a storm, the earth to your forever spinning moon. He’s your anchor, your earth, your sun, your everything.
You know that the doubts and insecurities aren’t going to disappear overnight but maybe, together, you two can make them lessen.
“Jason. Look at me,” you say when you open your eyes once again, pulling back slightly so that you can look him square in the eyes. Jason sighs, not wanting the quiet moment, the infinite second in which he can just be in your embrace and forget everything else to end. But then he slowly opens his eyes, showing you his troubled thoughts.
“I love you. So much that I can feel it in every single part of my body. It’s like you’re part of my DNA. And nothing, absolutely nothing, can make me want to leave you. And you’re not going to screw up anything. Call me selfish but I want to be near the things that make me feel strong, like I can achieve anything I want. The things that comfort me when I need it most, that are always there for me, even when I’m not at my best and I feel like a burden.”
Now Jason is the one that shakes his head and wants to refute you but you move your thumb from his cheek to his lips to shush him. “The things that make me feel loved. And you’re the only thing that makes me feel all of that. God knows I have my baggage too and it still amazes me that you understand me, that you want to carry it with me, that you’re proud to do so.”
You take a deep breath. “So no, I’m not leaving. Ever. I’m always going to be here. And I’m very glad that I met Dick, Tim and Damian tonight. They’re nice and they have allowed me to see more of you. And if there's something that I can’t get enough of is you. Okay?”
Jason nods as he leans into the touch of your hand, his eyes bright with love and admiration for you. And then he closes the small distance between you and kisses you, gripping your waist tightly, one hand coming up to hold your face and deepen the kiss. Your hands drop to his shoulders and you don’t waste a single second to kiss him back as fervently as he does. He hasn���t answered to your reassuring words but you don’t need him to. He’s telling you everything you need to know in that kiss.
When his lips first came in contact with yours, he said, Okay.
Where his hands are grabbing your body so tightly but oh so gently, he’s saying, You’re what I treasure most in this world.
And as you stand there in the middle of the living room, being kissed like nothing else exists except you two in this very moment, he’s saying, I love you.
You could have been like that just a couple of minutes or a couple of centuries for all you know, always forgetting the outside world when he kisses you. And when you finally part to catch your breaths, foreheads against each other, your hand softly caressing the hair at the back of his head, the shine in his eyes tells you everything that his lips have just said and more.
Still, he wants to make sure that you’re aware that he isn’t going to let his thoughts eat away at him and so he finally whispers, “Okay.”
“Good,” you whisper back, your hand finding his cheek and caressing it once again. And then you find his lips again, because if there’s one thing that you could spend doing forever without ever growing tired of is kissing him.
And without speaking, your lips tell him something too. Something that he feels as certain as the sun, the moon and the stars. 
I love you. I love you. I love you.
Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!
418 notes · View notes
jay-joy113 · 2 days
Text
Soft boyfriend Jason Todd
Who doesn't judge the way your hair is messy at morning afther you had a good night of cuddles and love making.
He combs your hair and tells you how cute you are.
I hope you dont work at an morning shift, because he WILL try to make you spend more time at bed.
He will be like "why so early babe? Why dont we snuggle for a bit" and boom, you are late to work.
If you maybe wonder how you werent fired yet, it may or may not have been orchastrated by an certain vigilante.
If you know hes red hood, there will be sex with uniform. Sorry, i dont make the rules. He will try to role play as a rougher guy only to fumble in the middle because he cant fanthon the idea of hurting you 🥺
He will hug you close as he hammers his fat cock cutely into your hole. A praiser, it seems he doesn't even know your name, youll forever be princess/ prince/ royalty to him.
"Come on, babe, you can come again cant you? I love you so much"
Ah Yes, he WILL also drop a lot of L- word. Even when you arent fuking- no, making love.
At first its difficult for him to say, but one day when he sees you softly snorring in his chest he knew "they are the one"
Thanks for reading
Tumblr media
341 notes · View notes
robinsfilm · 2 days
Text
YOU'RE MY MAN (OF BRIGHT LIGHT)
Tumblr media
PAIRING: jason todd ✗ gn!reader ;
SYNOPSIS: While at a fair with your sweet boyfriend Jason, you run into an unexpected, but welcomed suprise ;
ANON ASKED: " Okay, but Jason taking the his secret girlfriend to the fair, they're having a good time playing games, winning prizes, eating funnel cake, when they run into the bat fam and he's forced to make an introduction and once he sees how great they all get along, all his anxiety dissipates. She does comment on how insanely good they all are at those precision games. " ;
WORD COUNT: 1.4k ;
NOTES: cross posted on my AO3.
♯ MASTERLIST ; NAVIGATION.
Tumblr media
THE LIGHTS COVERING THE FAIR HANG LIKE STARS IN THE SKY ABOVE YOU. The bright colors dance across the fair as you and Jason walk hand in hand down the painted road. The different stalls and stands covered in red and white striped tents spread an infectious sweet aroma in the air, warming the atmosphere around you both.
Jason can feel your hand tighten around his as your eyes dart around the fairground, following anything that catches your eye.
The day has been spent checking out rides, such as the turning Ferris Wheel and the fair blanketing the ground with its vivid hues as you both watched from such a height. He remembers how thrilled you were looking down, grasping his hand with yours.
He also remembers only looking at you, the sea of tents, balloons flying high in the sky, and people mingling long forgotten.
You had all his attention.
The lights from below reflect in your eyes. “Isn't it beautiful?” you question.
Jason focuses his gaze on you. “It is,” without a doubt, “beautiful.
*****
The picture of you and him in that cramped photo booth appears in his mind over and over again. The walls were decorated with a rainbow of colors; the glitter spread through the narrow space, sticking onto your clothing and messy hair.
Surprisingly, he doesn't feel constricted and trapped in such a place. A carefree grin breaks out on his face, a matching one to your glowing smile.
You move your hand to his face, pushing the strands of hair away. You say something about him being handsome, and he feels the warmth rise to his cheeks.
He can only huff and turn to face the other way as you let out a small giggle, “You are handsome; why deny it?” The same pink hue appears on your cheeks as well. The words are engraved into his mind, not that he has the courage to say that yet.
The camera flash snaps him out of his reverie. The black-and-white strand of photos rests in his hands as a thumb caresses the surface. The picture of you two side by side, hands intertwined, is forever burned into his mind.
*****
It’s something about your face when you're focused that enamours Jason. Maybe it’s the way your eyebrows furrow together when you are concentrating. Maybe it’s the way you bite your lip, lost in thought. Or it’s the way you are oblivious to the world around you.
Oblivious to his stare that won’t leave your frame.
Even now, as your hands grip the water pistol, fingers tense yet precise, Jason can’t tear his gaze off of you.
You groan as you miss another shot at the moving duck. “Oh, for god's sake,” the yellow-colored cutout stares at you mockingly. “This is so rigged!” Your gaze is stuck on the Nightwing plush sitting on the stand as a prize, with its dark blue and black suit. “I need that plush.”
Jason chuckles at your predicament before being shushed by a glare from you. “You give it a try, big guy,” you say, shoving the orange-blue water pistol in his hands. It looks comically small in his hands.
“Watch and learn,” he gives you a smug smirk as he steps closer to aim at the ducks moving in rows above the light blue waves, until a familiar mess of blonde and raven-blue hair catches his attention.
Shit.
“Jaybeans?” Your concerned voice rings through his ears. “Are you okay?”
The voices of Steph and Dick grow closer and closer as he gives you a panicked look, which you only answer with a confused, wobbly smile. They don’t know about you; you don’t know much about them! The only time you have interacted with his family was a baking competition with Alfred (in which he used salt instead of sugar, but that’s beside the point).
He didn’t want it to go like this! He wanted to invite you to dinner with his family (and pray they don’t scare you away with their antics).
He remembers when Dick caught a glimpse of your guys’ text a few weeks back, something along the lines of Get back home safe, honeybee, from you. He can still picture Dick's shocked and teasing face as the older brother held the phone high up away from Jason's grasp.
Honeybee? Isn’t that adorable?
I swear to God if you don’t give me that back—
He snaps himself out of the memory and tries to convince you to check out the funnel cake nearby. “I heard it’s delicious.” His eyes dart around as you give him an unimpressed look.
“Nearby?” you ask, “isn’t it on the opposite side of the fair? I’m not walking that far; my feet hurt!”
“I’ll carry you.”
“But, what about my Nightwing plush?” You pout as you point to the mini version of his brother; granted, you don’t know that it’s his brother. Curse that plush.
“Jaybird?!”
Well, shit.
You both turn your heads to the source of the voice: a girl with messy blonde hair and jeans (with a purple heart sewn into it, you note) and a taller man with blue eyes approach you and Jason.
Jason feels as if he’s going to break the water pistol in his hands in two.
"Didn't you think we’d see you here?” Stephanie speaks up first before turning the attention on you. The three of you break into a conversation. Jason’s the only one who sees the teasing glances his siblings send his way, while you stay oblivious to it all.
He should be happy that you are getting along with his family. Heck, this is what he was preparing for all these months. But he didn’t want it to go like this! On top of that, it feels as if he’s being left out of the conversation.
“So, are you two on a date?” Steph asks, putting the emphasis on the date part of that sentence.
“Yep, we are!” You answer with a glowing smile, “It’s so nice to finally meet you guys.”
Jason is glaring daggers at the two of them, but Dick and Steph don’t seem like they're going to let this go (their grins seem to confirm that).
They shush any attempt of his at getting in the middle of you three, their attention all on you. Questions like: How’d you meet? When did you guys become official? Are you working for any villains as a henchman, by any chance?
You answer with the same elegance as Jason loves about you, holding your head high and easing into conversation.
It’s only when Dick turns to look at the water pistol in Jason's hands and the lone Nightwing plush resting on the prize shelf does he address his little brother, “Trying to win the Nightwing plushie, are you Jaybird?”
Jason can feel his cheeks burn up. “...Yes.”
Dick gives him a small, genuine smile, one that speaks of that one sentence that he always hears from his brother: I’m proud of you, Jay. Maybe this isn’t so bad. He feels all the worries slowly leave his body as the scene finally sinks into his mind. His siblings are here, and you are here, talking and having a truly good time.
Yea, this isn’t so bad.
“Oh!” Steph speaks up, “Let me try!”
“I’m warning you, those ducks are rigged so you lose,” you tell the blonde before moving closer to watch, eyes curious.
“Watch and learn!” (Just like Jason) She aims, and it hits the swimming duck, “bullseye!”
“Whoa,” you exclaim, “that was perfect! Where did you learn to aim like that?” you ask, genuinely curious.
Steph's face freezes up in surprise. She fumbles with the plush being handed to her before pushing it your way. “It’s a talent, I guess? Aren’t I lucky?”
“Runs in the family?”
“..Yes?” She mumbles with a wobbly smile before throwing an arm around your shoulders. “So, you ever need to win another plush; you know who to call.”
Dick lets out a small chuckle while Jason glares at the Nightwing plush in your hands. “A fan?” Dick asks.
“Duh, but Jaybeans over here is more of a Red Hood enthusiast.”
“Babe—”
“What?”
The voices of his siblings and you slowly drown out the sounds of the fair. Jason watches the three of you talk and joke like you’ve been friends for ages. He might deny it, but god, he feels so happy right now. Happy that his family is getting along.
He feels at peace, and it’s all thanks to you guys.
Tumblr media
© ROBINSFILM ﹕ I do not give consent for my writing to be posted or used on any other platforms without my permission and proper credit.
398 notes · View notes
Note
let me paint a picture for you:
imagine jason on a summer afternoon, a tight tank top sticking to his sweaty, muscular torso. he's doing maintenance on his bike, a bit of soot on his arms and face, and his headphones hung around his neck but you can hear the metal music because it's that loud. he's a bit red from the heat, a light blush on his shoulders and cheeks. he knows his limits, and knows he won't pass out from the heat - but there's no harm in pulling him back inside for a shower to cool him off.
(i had to share, my brain is imploding; i have one braincell and his name is jason todd)
Um, yes and yes. I don't even need to add anything buuut:
His hair is a mess, and sweat is dripping over his shoulders and down his arms. He's nodding along to the music, occasionally humming and stopping to reach for a new tool. (Giving you a great view when he stretches)
He's focused, fingers nimbly working over his bike with clear practice and ease. (The only time he looks more focused is when he's in bed with you, and he's intent on making your eyes go glassy)
You've been bringing him drinks and snacks when you get the chance. But this time, when you watched him chug down the water bottle and saw the drops that ran down his throat, your self-control goes out the window.
He doesn't understand what's come over you, as you drag him towards the shower and insist on helping him out of his sweaty clothes. But he doesn't seem to mind when you get in with him, and he gets to lick the salt and water off your skin.
273 notes · View notes
in-som-niyah · 2 days
Note
ok i’ve been having this thought for a while… since jason is so attentive what are some things he would do that makes reader’s life easier??? like i see him as such an acts of service man like if all else fails he will make sure you’re never out of your fav tea or something idk im sorry if this doesn’t make sense 😭😭
"I Do, I Do, I Do"
A/N: digging myself out of a depressive episode with this one + this is my first fic after my long ass hiatus so pls be nice to me im trying
Attentive!Jason Todd will pay so much attention to you you would think he has a camera on you 24/7 and watching your every move.
Jason would remember the big things, like anniversaries and birthdays, but also days of the year when he knows you need the most support from him. If a parent/guardian/loved one died on a specific day/time of year he's attuned to your emotional needs and keeps up with your physical ones (like food and sleep) so you can focus on being ok again. (i am NOT projecting chat)
Jason would also remember the little things, like your favourite tiny spoon, the way you prefer spearmint to wintermint in gum and toothpaste, the way you compulsively brush your hair to the side when your bangs get too long, when it's time for you to leave a social situation. He's just always looking at you and around you to make sure you're happy and smiling when you wave back at him form across the room.
If you have health problems, Jason would never in his life let you run out of meds or whatever you need to combat your illness. The massage gun is always charged, heating pad always available, hot water bottles on standby, compression socks/arm bands at your disposal, everything. He doesn't wait for it to get bad either, he's picked up on your cues so well that he can almost predict a disaster before you do.
Speaking of prediction, he also knows that if you're not off work and in the apartment by a certain time, to start the laundry, dishes and order in/cook a quick dinner because he knows you'll come home a tense ball of stress and worry.
Jason who almost exclusively wears a specific type of softer fabric when you're around him because he loves it when you bury your face in his chest and rest your head on his bicep.
(For the short girlies) Jason who puts rubber corner protectors on the corners of your countertops and tables because you always bash your hips into them when you aren't paying attention.
Jason who does the laundry before you wake up in the morning and folds your clothes exactly the way you do because he knows you're particular about it & doesnt want you to stress about it in the morning.
Jason who puts gas in your car and repairs it himself or sends it to the bats to fix when he can't (he would never admit it though).
Jason who notices your favourite brands of food and makes sure they're always stocked (you're convinced it's witchcraft the way things don't run out)
Jason who just loves you. That's it. That's all. Just love. In any and all ways he can. All the time. In all conditions. In all situations. Patient. Loving. Kind.
236 notes · View notes
kenobers · 2 days
Text
tremble & shake | jason todd x sionis!reader
Tumblr media
but first free palestine !! Jason doesn't show up for your hook-up. You don't think much of it until he comes barreling through his window in a distressed state. He's desperately in need of your comfort and you don't have a clue why, but you can't stand to see Jason Todd hurting. tw: angst, hurt/comfort, could be read as a panic attack, mental breakdown, slightly dubious attempts to initiate sex, non-sexual intimacy, uhh fear, self deprecating thoughts (i swear, one day i'll write something where neither you nor jason have anything bad to say about yourselves). jason todd needs a hug, reader was previously not very good with emotions. or empathy. fem!reader. a/n: happy batman day! here's jason crying <3 this comes after magic hands & is this love?
Tumblr media
Slam.
You jolt awake from your sleep, immediately reaching for a blunt object. Blinking hard, you squint at the door. Jason's door.
That's right, you're in Jason's apartment for one of your regularly scheduled hook-ups. He hadn't shown up, his phone abandoned on his bedside table. You figured he must've had to patrol tonight and forgot to give you a heads up. However, it's been pouring rain all night, so you decided to stay. You must've fallen asleep waiting for him.
"Jason?-"
No sooner does the man's name leave your lips than he practically tackles you on the bed. He's still in his costume, the red bat on his chest heaving heavily. His red mouthpiece hides the bottom half of his face as he looks down at you from behind the white of his domino mask. He's absolutely drenched. Cold clings to him and sends a shiver down your spine.
You furrow your brow. Something's wrong.
"I thought you weren't patrolling tonight," you whisper. He says nothing.
Pursing your lips, you ran your hands along his bare forearms. He's shaking. He'd gone out without his jacket. Jason's tough, almost inhumanely so, but if he'd gone out without his jacket in this rain...he must've been in a hurry.
"Did something happen?" Your eyes search his unbroken skin for injuries. Still, he says nothing and the empty whites of his mask are starting to freak you out.
You push his wet hood back and comb your fingers through his soaked hair until they find the buckle of his mask. You undo it and pull the mask from his face, peeling the domino along with it. His expression underneath is just as blank, like his mind is somewhere else.
Before you can say anything, he's kissing you hard. Almost violently. A shaky hand grips your shoulder with a ferocity Jason hasn't previously had with you, even when you've really gone at it.
"Hey," you say between harsh, wet kisses. "Jason, stop."
As if he doesn't hear you, Jason moves to your neck. The hand on your shoulder drops to your hip.
"Jason."
It starts to paw underneath your satin hem.
"Jay!"
The fear in your voice makes his head snap up. He stares at you with wide eyes, like a deer in the headlights. You shake your head, "I don't want this. I don't think you want this."
He moves off of you, staring at his lap.
You sit up slowly, mirroring his position on his knees. Panic chews at your insides as you try to assess him. He needs help, needs comfort, maybe. You have no experience with comfort, no clue what to do. You can't do this, you're not the person he needs, this-
This isn't about you. The man that has been at your every beck and call for the past several months looks like he's fighting for his Goddamn life. You don't hate the possibility of making a fool of yourself as much as you hate the sight of seeing Jason Todd in pain.
Somewhere, in the very back of your mind, there's a vague memory of a hand cupping your cheek, wiping away your tears. You copy it, reaching out to him hesitantly, terrified of making things worse.
Your fingertips brush his cheek with an almost non-existent touch, just heavy enough to wipe away the remnants of rain. He leans into your touch and you take this as permission to hold his face in your trembling hands.
His own hands find your hips again, drawing you between his thighs as his head comes to rest in the crook of your shoulder.
"'just wanna feel you," he mumbles against your skin, making your shoulder vibrate.
"I'm not gonna fuck you like this," you card your other hand through his damp hair. "You're going to wake up and realize it wasn't what you needed."
He says nothing, but clutches you as close as he possibly can. You tense as he presses against you. His armor digs into you uncomfortably, the buckle of his holster poking at your thigh. Water from his soggy clothes seeps through your satin nightgown. The hand on his face begins to cramp at this bent angle.
You've never seen him like this. Neither of you ever really come to one another for comfort, sans the time he brought you pads. Or the other time he calmed you down from a fight with your father. Or came to your rescue when your friends got you greened out on some fucked up weed. Okay, so you come to him for comfort, but he is...much more reclusive about his emotions. Complaining to you, sure. He often pulls to your sessions pissed and fucks you until he felt better. Sometimes he's so hungry for your body that he doesn't speak, except to check in with you. This was neither of these things. But this would mark the first real emotional emergency of whatever this relationship is. This was sad, desperate. Fearful.
"Please," he breathes in a broken voice. You...relax.
Without thinking about it, you hug him. You run your hand between his shoulder blades, supporting the back of his head. You cradle him like he might break. The same way he holds you when he sleeps.
"Nothing's gonna hurt you. I'm not gonna let 'em," the memory in the back of your head says.
"It's okay," you soothe, pressing your lips to his wet curls, feeling them tickle your cheek. "I'm not gonna let anything hurt you. Nothing's gonna touch you here, Jaybird."
There's a slight shake of his head as he clings to fistfuls of your dress. Your stomach clenches at the thought of whatever was bad enough to puncture his mind like this. You pull back just enough to look at him. Only the bottom half of his face was visible. His lips quivered, silently forming "no" over and over again.
You momentarily retracted your hand from his back to rest your palm to his cheek.
"Baby, I don't know where your brain is telling you or what it's telling you is happening, but I swear to you, you're safe with me in your apartment. Nothing is coming for us, I won't let anything happen."
His breath shutters and he buries his face completely into your shoulder. You squeeze your arms around him, rocking the giant man back and forth. He defeatedly sags against you with a single sob. Your heart drops even further at the sound. You shush him gently, resting your chin on his head.
"It's okay, you're okay. You're here with me. I've got you, baby. I've got you."
The next however many minutes go on like this. You cradle him, praying he doesn't shatter in your lap. You coo any sweets words you can think of until the tension in his muscles eases at your touch. His weight grows heavier in your embrace. For a moment, you think he fell asleep.
"Jay?" You call out softly. He lifts his head and rests it against your forehead. His gaze is still lost in space, but at least they look exhausted. That's better than nothing.
His skin burns against icy hot yours. Sweat starts to replace the rain. He needs to sleep, but he needs to properly warm up first.
You frown, "Jay, you should take a shower. You'll catch a cold."
He tightens his grip on you, not eager to let you go. You tuck your hand under his jaw, "I'll come with you."
This is a good enough promise to sway him. He nods, reluctantly pulling away from you. You slip off the bed, then shyly grab his hand. He intertwines his fingers with your own and follows you into the bathroom. It hits you that this is the first time you've held hands. Under better circumstances, it would feel nice.
You eye him up and down, taking in the damage under the bright bathroom fluorescents. His cheeks are flushed and newly decorated with tear streaks, but otherwise, he really doesn't look hurt. Just incredibly lost. Like he's not quite sure where he is. Green irises burn holes in you, golden flecks incinerating your skin, as if he's trying to figure out if you're real. The gaze is so intense, you have to look away for a minute. You conveniently make note of how funny of his scuffed up black boots look compared to your pedicured toes, bare against the checkered tiles.
He needs to get out of his wet clothes.
Sliding your hands under the shoulders of his sleeveless hoodie, you ask, "Can I undress you?"
He blinks. You hold your breath, praying you didn't just trigger something else. Then, wordlessly, he nods. You let out the breath as inconspicuous as you can and make quick work of the damp hoodie. His shirt follows. All scars, bruises and beauty marks look present and accounted for. Nothing new in the inventory. 
It's when you tug his gloves off that you finally locate any kind of laceration. Pebble-like imprints litter his palms; he must've been clutching something concrete like a stress ball for hours. He hadn't bothered with his usual red wrist wraps either, another sign he'd left in a hurry.
You don't pry, however. Instead, you kiss his reddened palms. Then, as your father taught you to do, you turn his still trembling hands over in your steady ones and kiss each knuckle gently. Unlike his forehead, his skin here is frozen until warmed by your loving lips.
Something about this interaction seems to ground the man a little more. You kneel to untie a beat-up boot, reminiscing about how your father used to let you take his loafers off for him when you were little. However, you've only managed to undo the other knot when Jason stops you.
"I can get the rest."
You're thrilled to hear him speak and nearly pop a kiss on his lips like it's a gold star before thinking better of it. You leave him to it, redirecting your focus on turning the shower on and picking out two fresh towels.
When at last he's naked, you make to shed your own minimal clothing. However, Jason stops you yet again, with time with an unsure hand on your bicep. He takes a moment to simply examine you once more in the good lighting, this time letting his eyes wander from your face. A hint of adoration crosses his drained features as his gaze combs your body, lingering on the curves and swells highlighted in baby pink.
Jason's index hooks around the thin strap of your slip. His thumb skims along the satin material before caressing your collarbone. It's a classic Jason move, but now it feels more akin to the way a child might grip a blanket.
"...Can I?" It's the shyest you've ever heard him speak. You nod and he brushes either strap off your shoulders, watching as the item pools at your feet. You give him a moment to admire the matching pink thong underneath before it joins the fabric puddle on the floor.
The shower is quiet, save for the dulcet sound of the running faucet. Jason winces when the hot water stings his frigid skin, however you can physically see the tension in his muscles melt away. His shoulders are much more relaxed beneath your washcloth, the rise and fall of his chest is becoming less stagnant. You take turns washing each other, like it's some kind of game. You touch him tenderly, still gauging for any kind of pain. He touches you with an intent that doesn't meet his drained eyes, still just gauging you.
When the silence is broken after who knows how long, it's by Jason.
"I don't deserve you."
His voice cracks like a 15-year-old.
"Don't talk like that," you chastise. He doesn't elaborate as his hand continues to rub body scrub along your back. You turn to him, both of your hands finding his face and holding it in place, the way he loves to do to you. "Don't talk like that."
You don't know what else to say. Neither of you are wordsmiths. You're afraid if you try to keep him talking, he'll just be self-effacing. You don't think you could handle hearing him talk about himself that way, not with him being as stubborn as he is. So you press a soft kiss to his lips. It isn't long, it doesn't invite more, but when you pull away, there's more green in his eyes. He envelopes you into his chest and holds you there. You return the embrace without hesitation, arms sliding around his waist while water taps the tops of your heads. You think you could stay like this forever; wrapped in each other's arms under the sanctuary of warm water, as the sound of his heart beat lulls you somewhere far away from the world outside the fogged up glass.
You do stay like that until the shower runs treacherously cold. Until one of you has to shut the faucet off, until the other is swathing each of you in fluffy wine colored towels. It's just a series of tasks you wordlessly complete so you can earn the reward of collapsing into bed, just dry enough to avoid waking up to a still damp pillow. You're both too tired to be bothered with pajamas. You aren't sure you're so wiped. Maybe you're just desperate to hold your lover again. He seems to feel the same way as he wastes no time reaching for your waist once the comforter is pulled up.
He slides down to kiss your shoulder and appreciate the warm scent of your body scrub. Much to your surprise, his head stays there. Even more to your surprise, you find it's because his eyes have fluttered shut. Jason never beats you to sleep, even at his most tired. But the relaxed weight of his body on your tells you he's winning this round.
You stroke the nape of his neck, grazing your fingernails through the tapered patch of hair. You'd been so focused on everything else that hadn't even noticed he'd gotten the haircut you'd asked him to. The request had been a joke really, something snarky to remark when he'd said something too nice about your appearance. It looked good, even from this angle. He must've just gotten it today. He must've gotten it for you.
Not everything's about you.
You try to push the thought out of your head as you admire the way Jason's cheek is smushed against your chest. If you lingered on it, you'd just started ragging on yourself, making it even more about. Earlier tonight had been the first time may be ever that someone with the last name Sionis had dared to consider something might not be about them. But what, did you want a cookie or something? A key to the city for your basic empathy?
Jason's earth rattling snore yanks you from your tailspin. You giggle quietly, no wonder he waits to fall asleep second. Your fingers resume wandering their course through his hair and a tremor runs down his back. He lets out a satisfied snort, his red lips parting. With a deep breath, he nuzzles into you. His usually hardened face is the softest you've ever seen it. Even the scars seem to fade. It's the complete opposite of the stony picture you woke up to. Despite the circumstances, you wouldn't trade the world for the sight before you.
You smile drowsily, ready to follow his lead and doze off when your phone vibrates rudely on the bed stand. You swear mentally, first at yourself for jerking so suddenly, then at whoever the fuck just had to send you a notification right this very second. A string of potential threats crosses your mind as you clumsily reach for the phone, gritting your teeth at the awkward way you bend your arm. It isn't easy to reach when a 225 pound man is slumbering (thankfully) unperturbed on top of you.
It takes you a few seconds to recall how to read as you glare blearily at the too bright screen. Your eyebrows knit when a message from an unknown number at last comes into view.
'Is he okay?'
You inwardly rescind your threats. It doesn't take a genius detective to deduce the identity of the sender.
'He's okay. He's sleeping now.'
The reply is instant.
'That's good. Moderate case of fear toxin, it should wear off all together by the morning.'
Ah, that will do it. You frown at Jason. A sick feeling creeps in at the thought of how terrified he must've been. That's why he seemed so unsure of you; you weren't the only thing he was seeing. Your poor baby.
When you glance back at your phone, there's another text.
'Are you okay?'
You blink.
'Yes, thank you. We're all fine here.'
There is one more response before you shut off the phone.
'I'll check in in the morning. I'm glad he's with you. Get some sleep.'
You're glad he's with you too. You're glad he came to find you. You're glad he wanted your comfort.
You're glad you would do anything for this stupid boy.
Jason sighs into your now dry skin. For just this moment, he knows nothing but peace. You'll fight off anything else.
Finally, you succumb to your exhaustion, knowing better than to disobey the Bat. The last thought you have is how warm Jason is wrapped safely in your arms before dreams of his shit eating grin take over. 
Tumblr media
233 notes · View notes
cherrrydragon · 1 day
Text
➤ reading between the lines
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
← back to main masterlist
read it on ao3
SUMMARY ↳ Jason Todd loves nothing more than the sight of you with a book. The book's tension builds, your fingers gripping the pages a little tighter as the protagonist faces a crucial moment. You barely register the sound of the water shutting off or Jason stepping out of the bathroom. He stands in the doorway, towel slung low around his waist, shaking his head with an amused smirk. He slowly takes steps toward you, right up until his knees hit the mattress. He leans down, his arms coming to cage you. Finally, you really take notice of him. “Hi, Jay.” pairing: jason todd x fem!reader warnings: smut tags/notes: oral sex (fem receiving), domestic fluff, jason might be ooc sorry, lets just pretend its a less traumatized version of him wc: 2k
Tumblr media
You think Jason has a thing for you and books.
You mean together, of course. Jason Todd’s affinity for literature is well known, and so is his affection for you. But you can see the way his lips curl up when he sees you curled up on the couch reading, wrapped in his favorite blanket.
The soft glow of the lamp casts a warm light over the room, highlighting the way Jason leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. He’s always been drawn to those quiet moments, watching you lose yourself in a world of words.
“Is that another tragic romance?” he teases, stepping further into the room. You glance up, catching his playful gaze.
“Not as tragic as your face.”
“Ouch,” he groans dramatically, clutching his chest. He falls onto you, plopping his full body weight and nearly crushing you. He buries his face in your neck and presses a chaste kiss there.
You huff and half-heartedly shove him away. “You’ll make me lose my place!”
“That’s why you should use those bookmarks I got you, honey.” He lifts his head, eyes sparkling with mischief. “
You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Bookmarks are for amateurs, Jay.” You gesture to the stack of books on the coffee table, a mixture of dog-eared pages and hastily folded corners.
He grimaces at the sight. “I should break up with you.”
“Who would read to you, then?”
He narrows his eyes at you. “Touché.” He presses a quick kiss to your lips and shifts so as to pull you into leaning on him. He wraps the blanket around both of you, plucking the book out of your hands in spite of your protests. “Can’t let you ruin this anymore. Lemme read to you, hm?”
You rest your head on his shoulder. “You can’t do it justice.”
“I’ve got the voice of a poet,” he retorts, arm wrapping around you. His voice is low, intimate and for your ears only. You move to rest on his chest so you can feel the way his chest rumbles as he speaks.
As he reads, you let your eyes drift shut, the sound of his voice becoming a soothing backdrop. Jason leans his down, pressing a light kiss on your head and effectively muffling his voice. Each word he reads intertwines with his heartbeat, spinning a cocoon of intimacy that cradles the both of you.
You notice the way he plops a bookmark on the page you were on just before you fall asleep.
Tumblr media
“You’re killing me, honey,” Jason groans over the phone.
The smell of a home-cooked meal fills your apartment as you shoulder your phone. “Come home, then,” you chuckle.
“I swear I can smell it through the phone. Why’re you always cooking something good when I’m away, huh?”
You move to grab a pan. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t be away so much.”
“Gotta do my job, honey,” he sighs. “To keep my beautiful girlfriend safe so she can continue to spoil me with her delicious cooking.”
You laugh, stirring the simmering sauce. “It’s just pasta, Jay.”
“Yeah, but it’s your pasta. That makes it gourmet.”
You can’t help but smile at his praise. “Dork. I’ll save you a plate. Just don’t take too long, or I might eat it all.”
“Don’t you dare!” His voice rises in mock horror. “I’ll be home soon, I promise. Just a couple more things to wrap up. You got dessert for me?”
You scoff playfully. “Pick it up yourself. I’ve got a book to finish.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he drawls, then his tone softens. “I’ll get you your favorite. Only the best for my girl.”
You exchange sweet goodbyes before hanging up, the warmth of Jason’s words lingers in the air, wrapping around you like the blanket he often claims. You focus on the pasta simmering on the stove, the fragrant aroma filling the kitchen. Your mind drifts to Jason, as it does a lot, and you can’t keep the stupid grin of your face as you finish cooking.
After plating the pasta, you set the table, stealing glances at the clock as you wait for him to come home. You flip through the book, and allow yourself to get lost in the words. The minutes stretch, the kitchen filled with nothing but your muttered words as you read. You’re just about to take a distracted bite of your food when there’s knocks on the door, the specific pattern Jason went over with you.
Jason steps in, Red Hood helmets already off and perched under his arm, a bag carried by his other. You perk up, unable to suppress the smile that spreads across your face. He steps in, shaking off the remnants of his day, and his eyes light up at the sight of the table set for two. “You’re making me fall in love with you all over again, you know that?”
You laugh, stepping forward to meet him in a kiss. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he greets back one you separate. He places the bag on the table, the logo of your favorite sweets brand greeting you. “As promised.”
“You spoil me,” you hum happily, parroting his earlier words. “Everything go okay?”
Jason nods, pulling out your chair for you before taking his own seat. He grabs his fork with an eager shine in his eye that makes you snort. If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Jason, it’s that he loves to eat.
“Usual stuff.” He keeps it brief, for your sake. He doesn’t like you to hear about the stuff he deals with on patrol, once said, “pretty things like you shouldn’t worry about things like that.” Flattering, but it’s whatever.
“Dickhead mentioned this new bakery that opened up, though you might like it,” he mumbles, voice obscured by his chewing.
You smile. “Sure, let's make it a date.”
Jason goes on to mention little things about his day, and you do listen… at first. You love hearing Jason talk, and you love hearing about his day but… you also really wanna finish this book. It starts as subtle glances to the open pages. Then, it goes to skim reading while nodding along to his words. Now, you’re full on reading and have tuned him out. Whoops.
Jason pauses mid-sentence, a playful glint in his eye as he watches you. “Baby.”
“Hm?”
“Are you even listening to me?” he asks, smirking.
You look up, feigning innocence. “Of course. You just mentioned the arcade you went to with Roy.”
He raises a brow and you know he doesn’t believe you. Damn detective skills. If he feels any type of way because of it he lets it go and continues talking. This time you do better to try and pay attention, but when he leaves to go to the bathroom your eyes wander right back onto the pages.
“You’re killing me again, honey.” Shit, he came back fast. To his credit he doesn’t look annoyed, just fond. Still, you feel guilty.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry,” you groan, shutting the book and throwing it across the room. Miraculously, it lands on the couch.
Jason raises a brow. “Nice throw.”
“Jay,” you whine. He snorts and comes around you, laying a hand comfortingly on your shoulder. “It’s so good. You’ll love it when I finish.”
“I’m not mad, honey.” He leans down and presses a kiss against your forehead, whispering, “Besides, I think it’s hot.”
You blink, watching him sit back down as if he said nothing at all. Well, that’s probably all you’re going to get out of him about it.
Tumblr media
You are one of the many people guilty of not knowing when to put down a good read.
In your defense, however, it’s not bedtime yet. Bedtime is whenever you and Jason are in bed, and he still has to shower. Until then, you’re content to let him take his time, as you’re completely taken by your book. The gentle hum of the water running in the background almost becomes white noise to the whirlwind of words in your head.
The book's tension builds, your fingers gripping the pages a little tighter as the protagonist faces a crucial moment. You barely register the sound of the water shutting off or Jason stepping out of the bathroom. He stands in the doorway, towel slung low around his waist, shaking his head with an amused smirk.
He slowly takes steps toward you, right up until his knees hit the mattress. He leans down, his arms coming to cage you. Finally, you really take notice of him. “Hi, Jay.”
“Hi, honey.” His eyes sparkle with amusement as he takes you in. He smooches your cheek before his hands come to grasp at your hips, pulling you to sit at the edge of the bed. You don’t break your focus from your book (if we’re being honest, you’re kind of used to it…)
He knees at your shared bed and spreads your legs. You don’t pay too much mind, even when the feeling of your underwear sliding down your legs sends a familiar shiver down your spine. It is only when a hot wet feel slides against your core that you’re snapped back into reality.
Your body reacts instinctively, squeezing your thighs around Jason’s head. “Jay!” you yelp.
He responds with a hum that sends a buzz through your body. His hands massage your skin as he kisses around your thighs. Your heartbeat picks up and your chest starts to heave. Your fingers tremble around the pages.
A hand leaves your pressure book to grip Jason’s hair. Your hips begin to rock against his face. Your breathing becomes more labored. His thumb begins to swirl your clit, stimulating you to your very core. The room around you fades away, leaving only the rising tension in your body. 
Jason's hands move up your thighs, his fingers digging gently into your skin as he holds you in place. His tongue darts in and out, teasing you with gentle licks and soft kisses. You moan, your head falling back against the bed as you give in to the pleasure.
Suddenly, the book slips from your fingers, falling to the floor with a soft thud. You don't even notice, too caught up in the sensations coursing through your body. Jason’s hands pull you impossibly closer, caught up in your pleasure.
"Jason," you moan, voice laced with desire.
It seems that your voice sets him off, because his tongue starts moving faster along with his fingers to bring you to your peak. Your body trembles, and your hips rock against his face, seeking more of the pleasure he's giving you. Your toes curl, back arching against the bed as your moans get louder and louder.
White fills your vision, mouth falling open as a final whine leaves your lips. You take deep breaths as you come down from your high, thighs twitching. Jason’s eyes meet yours, slowly rising from his knees to meet you. His lips brush against yours in a gentle manner. You feel yourself melt once again, your body aligning itself with him.
“Good?” he mumbles against your lips.
“Good,” you affirm, breathing him in.
“Good,” he nods, breaking away from the kiss, before meeting you back for more. You smile against him as the two of you exchange chaste kisses. Your legs fall open to welcome him closer. You whimper at the feel of his bulge against you.
“Jay,” you moan, grinding against him.
You feel his smirk. “Yeah?”
“Please…” He’s only wearing a towel, all you have to do is hook a finger around it and pull…
You’ve never felt such disappointment like when he pulls away from you, tightening the towel. He bends down, picking up your forgotten book, and strolling out of the room.
“Wh- Jay!”
“You said I’d like it, might as well start now. Who knows when you’ll put this thing down again,” he calls from the hallway.
“Jason!”
“This is payback!”
Tumblr media
notes: kinda hate this but what can ya do 🔥
238 notes · View notes
fic-over-cannon · 1 day
Text
thinking about a jason todd that’s in his late 30s. lines are just starting to etch themselves into the corners of his eyes and he’s got a hip that always pops when he rolls out of bed in the morning. he’s had a partner or two since his resurrection, each time promising forever and a day but never really making it there. he doesn’t look for serious anymore, grown up grown tired of always waiting on the back foot for someone that never sticks around. what’s the point of giving away his heart when it’s just going to get handed right back to him anyway? and that’s fine — he doesn’t hold it against any of them, he wouldn’t stick around for him either.
it’s frustrating then, to love him like you’ve never loved before and know he only sees you as a placeholder. the one he comes home to for now. he views himself as a season in your life, a moment that will pass and maybe you’ll remember this fondly if he doesn’t fuck up the ending too badly. you know he would accept you breaking your heart in two with tired eyes and a practiced smile, nothing but the best wishes for your future.
you tell him you love him and he accepts it with thanks and an unspoken for now. you tell him he’s it for you and he tells you sure kid, all nihilistic patronism that he’ll be seeing the back of you one day. it’s all youthful optimism and vigour to him, hasn’t stood the test of time or the first fight, the worst of an after patrol breakdown or the fear of a serious injury. you tell him you’ll always stay and he warns you that you don’t hafta make promises you won’t want to keep kid. he doesn’t understand that you want to mean it.
so you don’t promise him forever and a day. you promise him tomorrow. and tomorrow. and tomorrow. maybe one day he’ll believe you. maybe one day you won’t mean it. but the one thing you will not do is break his heart the way it’s been broken before.
Tumblr media
might continue this if there’s interest
394 notes · View notes
pedrasacorn · 2 days
Text
Jason Todd who gets you food delivered after you break up because he knows you don’t eat when you’re upset
232 notes · View notes
midnightorchids · 1 day
Text
Alternative bf Jason Todd headcanons pt. ii! It’s almost October, so it’s only makes sense to post this now, link to pt. i here
Alt!bf Jason... who keeps a metal clad hand on your waist at all times, his cool rings press gently against your clothed skin every so often
Alt!bf Jason... who stays up late reading and writing poetry. he hands you crumpled pieces of paper with messy writing and perfect grammar. he declares his undying love for you in disturbingly beautiful sonnets (cough cannibalism and religion as a metaphor for love cough)
Alt!bf Jason... who walks around the house with large headphones, his loud music bleeds out of the small speakers and his hands drum against the nearest surface
Alt!bf Jason... who takes you on dates to the cemetery, where he sits by his own grave. he reads out loud the verses of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein and feeds you a handful of blackberries
Alt!bf Jason... who puts his black leather jacket over your shoulders the minute he feels a brisk breeze in the air. the old fabric feels warm against your skin and you breathe in it’s scent. it smells of heavily of cigarettes and musk, it smells like home
Alt!bf Jason... who hates the thought of being away from you and decides that he needs to get a tattoo in your honour. he gets a small victorian heart on his left shoulder blade to match the vintage, silver locket that he got you for your birthday
Alt!bf Jason... who often styles his long raven locks in a half up half down, showcasing the multiple piercings that decorate his ears
Alt!bf Jason... who reads and watches all of your favourite horror content, especially during Halloween. he sets the mood and holds your hand through all the suspenseful parts
182 notes · View notes
zer0wzs · 3 days
Text
jl unlimited jason oh my goddddddddd
Tumblr media
182 notes · View notes
rhiann · 2 days
Text
if the fanfic is not an “x reader”, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DO NOT USE THE FUCKING TAG
162 notes · View notes