mitsouya

[mitsouya]

$10 account for sale. 3m champion power.

more details just message me! [:

[mitsouya]

dc dark legion account for sale bc i want to buy food 🍜 let me know if you want more details! currently 1.8m powers, earth-283

[mitsouya]

jason todd is a yearner

he acts all tough, but when he's alone, he's rereading old texts, staring at pictures, or absentmindedly tracing over something you left behind—like your handwriting on a sticky note or a hoodie you forgot at his place (everything reminds him of you)

he has the worst habit of staying up at night (insomnia lol), thinking about you. maybe he should call? maybe he should just show up? would that be too much? (he does it anyway)

jason plays it cool, but the moment his you initiate any sort of physical contact—holding his hand, running fingers through his hair—he practically melts (not that he’d ever admit it)

when he's away from you for too long, he catches himself glaring at couples holding hands on the street, muttering about how "some people just love to rub it in, huh?" (he just misses you)

when he’s out on patrol, beating up criminals, the second he hears a notification going off on his phone, he's checking to see if it's you (if it’s not, he sighs and aggressively shoves his phone back into his pocket)

he alway finds excuses just to see you- "oh, i was just in the neighborhood.” (he wasn't) “you left something at my place.” (you didn’t) “i thought you called me" (lies.)

sometimes he just stares off dramatically, thinking about you. roy has caught him sighing at the moon once (it was humiliating)

if you fall asleep around him, that’s when he lets his guard down. ge’ll brush ypur hair out of your face, press the lightest kiss to your forehead, and whisper things he’d never say when you're awake (cause how can he when everytime he looks at you, you take his words away?)

jason todd is a yearner.

enjoy this while i work on the others hngh <3 trying a new style this time

[mitsouya]

sae itoshi was not a nonchalant boyfriend or a chill guy, despite how much he tried to seem like he was. you don’t ask him for his opinion on your outfit? do you not want him (to compliment you and ask you to do a small twirl so he could see the ensemble properly and then pepper your cute face with kisses)? you don’t want him to share his food with you? okay, so basically you’re saying you want him to go to hell.

you tell him to quit liking flirty comments from random people under your posts? what’s wrong with that, he agrees with them— you’re absolutely stunning. and no, he isn’t doing it just so those randoms get a notification that saeitoshi, with a silly picture of you and him with your cheeks smushed together as his profile picture, has liked their comment so that they now know you aren’t single and looking for some sleazy jackass who thinks they can get your undivided attention just by commenting ‘🔥🔥’. seriously, how dare you accuse him of such pettiness?

but really, none of that is compareable to how he feels right now; damp hair sticking to his forehead, towel over his shoulder, one hand buttoning up his loose shirt while he’s looking at his phone, fresh out of the shower after the usual training. his teammates are yapping about something like they always do but it’s all silent in his head as he takes in what feels like utter blasphemy on the screen.

zero notifications.

well, actually, he had a shit ton of texts messages from his teammates and people he considered somewhat his friends but none of them really matter— only you do.

and you hadn’t texted him since yesterday (almost 24 hours ago!), when he was on his way home and asked you if you wanted him to bring you extra snacks or something.

do you hate him?

he clicked out of the messages app and checked instagram, where you’d usually have flooded his dms with chronically online shit that he had no idea how you found funny. seriously, what the heck is all that about divers going into small spaces and eye of dih? he visibly deflates when he sees you hadn’t sent anything on there either (the last text was from him, when he’d said ‘???’ to your text that read ‘what is a father?’).

Sae [16:43pm]: Do you hate me

nah. scoffing to himself, he deleted the words, exited the app and pocketted his phone. since when was he such an attention deprived, needy little shit? whatever.

by the time he opens the front door to your shared home, there’s still no text, no call, no reel, nothing from you. “angel?” he calls out in his usual, casual tone, nudging the door shut with his boot. “’m home.”

“in here, sae,” you call out from the bedroom and he quickly takes off his shoes, drops his duffel bag onto the couch and trudges into the bedroom, feeling as if if he were a puppy, his tail would be wagging harshly behind him. “i was just about to text you.” you tell him with a small smile from where you’re sitting on the office chair behind the desk, your laptop in front of you and notes strewn all over the desk. you were.. studying.

ah, right. no wonder you hadn’t texted him.

you barely register his silent footsteps and fast pace until he’s right behind you within the time it took for you to blink, one hand on the arm of the chair to turn it around before he’s half hunched over you, his other hand pressing on your back to tug you into a hug. “missed you,” his voice is muffled as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, the soft tufts of his moist hair tickling your chin and neck. “thought you hated me.”

“what?” it was said so quietly that you almost didn’t hear it, but you do and now you’re pulling back a bit to look at him properly. “what gave you that idea?”

“forget about it,” he tries to avoid the question in a painfully untactful manner, attempting to hug you again, but faltering as he sees the look on your face. god, this was so humiliating. “y‘didn't text me today— or call, or send me stupid reels,” he points out with an embarrassed grunt, standing up to his full height and running a hand through his hair. “thought you were pissed at me for beating you in monopoly or something.”

huffing, you grin up at him. “you didn’t have to bring that up, jerk. but no, as you can see,” you gesture to your table and he notices the splotches and lines of dried ink on your fingers from your pen. “i’ve been studying. or trying to, at least.”

“huh.” he lets out, grasping your hand in his and intertwining your fingers before untangling them again so he could toy around with them. his brows furrow and he scoffs when you continue, saying something along the lines of ‘i didn’t think you’d notice.’ “yeah, well, i noticed. i dunno. kinda hard to miss the zero texts from the only person i reply to, yeah?”

your eyes brighten at that, but you tease, “ohh, yeah, right. sorry, i forgot you’re a friendless loser.”

“look who’s talking,” he shoots back, and you’d almost be offended if it wasn’t for the playful look in his eyes. he sighs and dips his head to press a kiss to your temple before walking over to the closet.

“were you really sad that i didn’t send you stupid reels?” you ask him with a curious look while watching him pick out a random t-shirt and sweats, not making fun of him like you’d usually do, just genuine curiousity in your tone.

he hums in response, undoing a few buttons of his shirt before tugging it off his head and glancing at you, with his teal eyes narrowed in contemplation, shirt still hanging around his elbows. “guess so. ’s stupid, huh?”

“nah,” is your immediate reply, followed by a small shrug. “i think it’s sweet, actually. in a pathetic sort of way. you’re kinda sweet.”

during his 10-minute break from training the next day, he finds himself on the bench of the locker room, resting his aching legs with his half empty water bottle next to him as he’s scrolling through your dms with a soft smile. a shit ton of reels and one ‘good luck at practice!!’ message stares back at him.

yeah. he thinks you’re (kinda) sweet too.

[mitsouya]

you give jason todd a scare

(inspired by this post).

author's note - what’s this? another post about jason? wild.

You should have been home three hours ago.

Jason’s hands tighten around the handlebars of his motorcycle. The leather fabric of his gloves crease, slick with rain and pinching around his fingers. It’s not often that you hang back for so long afterhours, though Jason is well aware that you offer your help without second thought, often forgetting about everything else in favour of assisting where you can.

But it’s been three hours since your usual closing time, and you haven’t sent him a text yet. You always send him a text.

Clenching his jaw, Jason wipes his arm across his face harshly, brushing away the rain that lingers on his lashes. It’s not the vibrations of the engine beneath him that’s sending his thighs subtly shaking—no, it’s the adrenaline slowly inching into his system, the panic he can feel twisting inside his chest.

What if you’re alone in the pouring rain? Soaked to the bone?

The traffic light blinks green, and Jason squints through the sheets of rain while kicking back the stand. The line of cars jolt forward, brake lights dimming as tires roll across rain-soaked asphalt.

Exhaling sharply, Jason’s eyes constantly search around him, feeling as if he’s some sort of cop looking for the slightest infraction. None of Gotham’s cops do that here, but it’s what he’s seen in the few movies you’ve made him watch.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Jason murmurs beneath his breath, body leant forward as rain pricks against his skin, tapping violently against his leather jacket.

“Where? Tell me where…”

The traffic lights ahead glow a bright red, blurred by the onslaught of water, and Jason holds down several curses and a groan. He can feel the dread in his stomach, wrapping around his intestines as he slowly comes to a stop behind a white KIA.

He needs to reach your workplace—he has to see if you’re still there, and that, maybe, your phone is just dead. It must be, because he tried to track down the location of your mobile, but nothing had come up. No blinking blue dot on his screen revealed your location to him, and nothing on Earth would get him to ask Oracle to step in. He has this under control. He’s not going to panic. Not yet.

As cars rumble around him and the bike’s engine rattles beneath him, Jason silently berates himself for not having some sort of conversation about things like this with you. He should have given you instructions on what to do if your phone dies, or if you can’t get home for some reason—he could have prevented all of this if he had just given you the right steps to take. And what if you’re in more danger than he thinks? Wouldn’t it be his fault if you weren’t prepared at all or trained to some small degree in order to defend yourself? If anything bad has happened to you, that would fall on him. Without a doubt.

A horn blares behind Jason, echoing painfully in his ears. The lights have flashed green, the neon colour reflecting off the cars as they lumber forward again. He would have sent the guy a rude gesture over his shoulder, but you’re running through his head—bright eyes made gentle when they lock with his, and your words quiet and low like always. He’s sure that you speak quietly for him personally, like it’s your mission in life to never speak abruptly around him, and he’s never been able to explain to you why that matters to him.

But you’ve never needed him to explain anything. You’re too intuitive for your own good. Too understanding. Too good.

“Jason!”

His heart stops. Beats once. Skips a beat. Beats erratically again. That couldn’t have been…was that…you?

Swivelling his head around frantically, Jason pays no mind to the driver behind him angrily blaring his horn, the sound filling up the street. He knows he just heard you, however faint it was over the rain.

“(Name)! Baby!” Jason calls out, voice thick with worry.

“Jason!”

Yes, that’s you—that’s you.

And you’re flailing your arms above your head, jumping up and down on the side of the curb.With his pulse drumming inside his ears, Jason barely gives it a second thought as he floors it, weaving through the moving cars and crossing lanes to reach you.

People surrounding you glance at him wearily as the engine roars, but you don’t pay them any mind as Jason screeches to a halt directly in front of you.

You barely blink and Jason’s kicking the stand and hopping off his bike. For a moment, you think he’s angry as he strides up to you, with his brows pinched together and his jaw clenched.

Your mouth opens pitifully as you prepare to stumble out your rehearsed apology, but your words die on your tongue as strong hands wrap around your biceps, and Jason grapples you to him. A huff of air escapes you as you’re shoved against his chest, but the shock instantly melts away, and you grab fistfuls of his jacket in your hands.

“I’m so sorry,” you say into his shoulder. Guilt gnaws at your stomach, and you let him tighten his grip around you, even if it feels like your ribcage might snap.

“My phone died.” Your voice shakes, and you squeeze your eyes shut as rain taps against your scalp. “And Meggie wanted me to help her with something after closing, and then her ride ditched her so we were trying to figure out an uber for her cause the taxis are terrible and—”

“Stop talking.”

You inhale sharply. “Okay.”

The silence feels tense, and the rain pricks into your skin like needles, sharp and relentless. But it’s nothing compared to the turmoil you feel on the inside, the guilt that’s threatening to send you into tears—but you can’t cry. No, this isn’t about how you feel, this is about Jason.

“Sweetheart,” Jason murmurs against your scalp, and you catch the tremor in his voice.

“Yeah?”

“I—baby, don’t do that again.” Jason pulls away, and he brings his large hands to cradle your face. You’re reminiscent of a wet alley cat, your hair sticking to your skin and your coat hanging from your frame, heavy with water. But he’s never seen you look as remorseful as you do right now. Any anger or frustration lingering in the back of his mind vanishes within an instant, as if it weren’t even there to begin with.

Purple and pink light from the overhead billboards reflect off your face, haloing your hair. You look beautiful, but more importantly, you’re okay. You’re safe, and he’s holding you in his arms. Despite the rain, despite the chill that clings to the air, your skin is still warm with life.

And that’s more than enough for Jason.

Shaking his head, he brings a hand to gently push against the back of your head and press you closer to him again. He presses a firm kiss to your temple, as if to hammer into your skin the relief surging through him.

Bystanders glance your way, eyeing what simply looks like two people embracing each other with an overwhelming amount of emotion. Feeling the panic in his chest slowly start to ebb away, Jason lets his lips fall to your cheek where he presses featherlight kisses.

You hum softly, fingers tightening around the creases in his jacket.

“I love you, Jay,” you say quietly, because you know he needs to hear it.

Jason’s heart rampages against his ribcage.

“Let’s go home, sweetheart.”

Thank you for reading, God bless <3

[mitsouya]

#hes so cute

Jealousy

Three times Jason gets jealous during dates and one time you do (Pre-established relationship) ~1.6k words

You're perfect. Funny. Smart. Gorgeous. Jason's life has never been better since he's asked you to be his partner. (Okay, hush, you asked him, but he was getting there, he swears, he had this twelve step plan and everything. Tim was going to jump off a ledge while throwing rose petals. Rose petals!)

He can't find a single problem with how your relationship is going. Well, expect, how everyone else seems to want your attention you too.

The little Café you wanted to try is nice, really. The guy behind the counter that's been staring at you since you both got here? Not so nice. It's annoying, how the guys gaze seems to linger on your legs, your smile, the way you brush your hair back. It's a struggle to focus on your words– but not a struggle to watch the way your lips move when you talk.

The worker takes a step out from behind the counter.

Oh hell no.

Jason's on his feet and pulling out the chair next to you in an instant, between one word your pretty voice is saying and the next, he's sitting by your side with an arm draped around your shoulder.

He loses his train of thought when you smile, pleased, and raise an eyebrow.

"What's this for, Jason?"

"Wanted to hear you better." He says, or he thinks he says that. He's too busy watching the creep slink back behind the counter, satisfaction growing in his chest.

You laugh. (He thinks angels might descend from the sky when you do.) And go back to telling your story. It's much easier to listen this time. That's what he tells himself, at least until your thigh presses against his.

Gotham Zoo is actually really nice for, you know, Gotham. Bruce poured money into it before, but ever since Damian found out about it, he's practically ensured the place will run ethically and comfortably for the next 100 years. Which Jason thought was cool, but it's even cooler that he gets to watch his partner coo over the new petting zoo.

"Aw, Jason, look at the lambs! They're so soft. I wanna take one home." You sound giddy, eyes bright and smile wide. He can't quite pull his focus away from you to see which creature you're referring to.

"They're pretty cute." He responds instead. Not cuter than you, though.

"Could you imagine one for the apartment? They'd sleep in bed with us. It would be like cuddling a cloud." You say idly, fingers stoking the top of the animals head.

That makes him pause. How'd he cuddle you if there's some barn animal in the middle of the bed? There's no way he could get close enough to you if some pet you found cute was cuddled between you. He clears his throat. "Well, ah, I don't know how the landlord feels about lambs but you can always cuddle me? I'm– I could be soft?" Wow, okay. Not what he wanted to say. He cringes a little.

But you stand up, smiling brighter and gaze focused on him. That settles the feeling in the pit of his stomach. You curl your fingers with his and take his hand, pulling it to your face to kiss his knuckles. "You're my favorite thing to cuddle, you know."

Oh. "Huh. I mean, good." He stumbles out. No, his ears are definitely not feeling warm. And no, his heart isn't beating faster as he follows you towards the next enclosure. "I could wear wool, though? If you wanted?"

That makes you laugh. Eyes trailing to him with such fondness he nearly sinks to his knees. Until he sees the playfulness etched in your face. "I saw you petting those rabbits early. I could wear bunny ears? If you wanted?"

He chokes on air. You might be trying to kill him. His whole face feels as heated as his ears. "Wow. I– if you wanted?"

You giggle, pulling away to observe the next lucky animal that you see.

"Hey. Wait–" He says your name, voice a little pitched. "Did you want–?" You only wink at him. That shuts him. And if he spends the rest of the date a little distracted, well, you seem proud that you managed to make him so flustered.

Your coworker has been talking to you for thirteen minutes and fourty-seven seconds. Jason knows this because he's been watching the clock since he got here. It happens more often than not, him walking you home from work. He shows up fifteen minutes early because he knows you'll slip out given the chance. Something about not taking up too much of his time. Don't you know you're the only one he wants to spend his time with?

Jason crosses his arms, eyes narrowing at your coworker. Three inches. That's the amount of space your coworker has moved closer to you since he's gotten here. Not respectable at all. Doesn't he know you're with Jason? Maybe he should have stopped into that jewelry store he was eyeing earlier. And called Tim to put in an order for rose petals.

Your coworker shifts another inch towards you. And that's it. Your shift has thirty-five seconds left and that's exactly the amount of time it takes for him to be by your side. His arm slips around your waist comfortably, like it belongs there, because it does. He kisses your cheek and lets his gaze settle on your coworker. And if his face is a little more threatening than usual, he definitely isn't trying to intimidate your coworker. (Yes, he is.)

"Ready to go home, sweetheart?" He drawls, body relaxed like he isn't torn between showing your coworker exactly who you're dating and pushing down the jumble of emotion in his throat. "I was thinking take out for dinner?"

You relax into his side. Oh. You relaxed into his side and you're smiling at him. It evens out the pounding in his heart he didn't even realize was happening. The tension threatening to take over his shoulders disappears like it never existed.

"Yeah, Jason, I'm ready. I missed you. Just let me clock out." You pull away– 'no' he starts to think– and then you take his hand, pulling him along with you.

"I missed you too." He answers, and you don't quite see the smug grin he sends over his shoulder to your coworker.

Jason's perfect. Funny. Smart. Gorgeous. Willing to try new things. A total package. That's something you know about your boyfriend. So when he agreed to go dancing with you at Gothams newest club, you were excited. A whole night spent enjoying time with your boyfriend. And you both get to dress up a little. You feel hot, and he definitely looks hot. You didn't think that'd be an issue. But, it is. Because you can see your boyfriend getting held up by two of the prettiest girls you've ever seen.

He's holding two drinks, one for himself and one he went to get for you. It soothes the tightness in your throat that he does not look thrilled to be talking to them. The softness he has when he's with you gone, replaced with poorly masked annoyance.

Any comfort you were feeling from the look on his face disappears when one of the girls puts her hand on his arm, giggling like he's said the funniest thing in the world. Absolutely not. You're walking over to them before Jason even has time to shrug her hand from his arm.

"Hey, honey." You say, voice sweet and sugary as you take one of the drinks from his hand, hooking your arm through his and tucking yourself against him. "Everything okay?"

It makes your heart flutter everytime, the way his entire face seems to change when he looks at you. "Hey, baby. Yeah. Everything's okay. Didn't mean to take so long. Were you worried?" He asks, leaning down to press a kiss to your hair.

The girls seem to deflate at how his complete attention is on you, how he instinctively shifts until you're pressed flushed against his side, two pieces of a whole. You have to force back the pride that threatens to glint in your eyes. "Not worried. I just was getting bored without you."

Neither of you really look over at the girls when they murmur something about catching up with their friends, but Jason manages a polite nod. Once they're gone, his grin widens, eyes teasing. "You were jealous. You called me honey."

You gasp in mock offense, yes, honey isn't the first term of endearment you jump to, but it's a perfectly valid word for him. "Jealous? Jealous that my tall, dark, sweet, and handsome boyfriend was getting hit on?"

He laughs, you think you might have swooned in a different time. "C'mon, pretty. Give me this. I saw you watching."

You can't help but smile at him and wonder, vaugley, if he knows you'd give him anything he asked of you. "Yeah, yeah. I was a little jealous. But, don't think I don't notice when you get jealous. Now, come dance with me. I like this song."

Now it's his turn to gasp, faux denial on his face. "I have never, not once in my life, been jealous."

You roll your eyes, playful and light as you pull him along to the dance floor. "Alright, lover boy. Because you're definitely not the reason my coworker wouldn't talk to me for a week."

He looks pleased at that. "He didn't?"

You raise yourself on your toes, kissing his cheek and leaving a smudge of lipstick. Neither of you move to wipe it off. "Mm. No. He didn't."

"Nice." He mumbles, unhooking your arms so he can hold your waist as you reach the dance floor. "I do get jealous too, though, sometimes."

Laughing, you find the beat of the music together and your world centers on him, just how his centers on you. "I know."

[mitsouya]

Priority One

You come first for Jason ~800 words

At his core, Jason Todd puts himself last. He's the first to jump in front of a bullet, first charge into a burning fire, first to drop dead center into a group of thugs.

It's not that he doesn't care about his safety, it's just that he deems his safety as lesser. He's stronger, sturdier, and if he's the one that goes down instead of someone else? That's a good thing.

He knows people would worry. People would miss him. But they'd move on the same way they did before. They would fill the gaps in the spaces he leaves, and there wouldn't be a need to pick the pieces off the floor because nothing would break at his loss.

At least, that used to be the truth. It was the truth until you nestled your way into his heart, and he somehow became a fixture in your life. He didn't mean to do it, didn't mean to make you fall in love with him, and he certainly didn't mean to fall in love with you.

But he did.

And now he makes sure you sleep on the inside on the bed, safe between the wall and him. He walks between you and the road, always on guard for swerving cars and shady civilians. He checks your apartment during patrol, though it's more for his peace of mind than yours.

Jason Todd still puts himself last, but the thought of you comes first, when he dives into the line of fire. If he doesn't come home, who's going to fix the leaky faucet or take out the trash when it gets full?

You could do it, he knows you could, but he doesn't want you to have to. So, he upgrades his armor when he would normally put it off. He's quicker to stop the blood dripping from his wounds. He's more aware, when he's shifting through the shadows of an enemy base.

He never worried about what he would leave behind. Not until you started to kiss his jaw before his nightly patrol, not until you started to reach for him every time he came home, beckoning him to your side and under the waiting, warm blankets.

He worries now. He makes plans, sets aside money, and makes his closest allies promise to keep an eye on you if he ever can't. He becomes your shield, whether you're aware of it or not, he has you covered.

You're his priority, and in becoming so, he's slowly becoming a priority, too. You're happier when he's okay, so he steadies his reckless tendencies. He dismantles the bomb in his helmet. He turns on his tracker for Oracle to keep an eye on.

For all the times he looks after himself, it's with you on his mind. He double checks his gear because he needs to pick up paper towels on the way home for you. He cleans his grappling hook because you asked him if he wanted to go out to dinner and a movie tomorrow.

He waits for backup before breaking up Penguin's latest smuggling ring because you recommended a book for him to read, and he only has a handful of chapters left to finish.

It's you, and you, and you again, that gives him a reason to want to make it to sunrise. It's you, that makes him really want to live.

He wants to see coast cities and tiny forest towns outside of whatever crime he's hunting down. He wants to travel and explore and try everything and anything– as long as it's with you.

He'd give up the world, give up everything he knows, as long as he can give you what you want. But all you ever ask, even if it's not in so many words, is for him to come home. So he does. Every night. Every day. Every time. Jason Todd finds his way back to you because your wants are his first concern.

He sheds his armor and kicks off his boots and leaves everything but the thought of you at your windowsill. He smiles when you murmur your sleepy greetings because he knows you think his smiles are pretty. He checks the locks and changes into the pajama set that matches with yours because you giggle every time you see it.

And all these things are so little yet so big all in one. They fill the cracks beneath his skin, and when he finally has you in his arms again, Jason Todd knows that nothing will be greater than this, than you.

There is no adversary, no injury or mission, that would have his gaze from straying from his singular goal; making it back to your arms to fill your days with all you deserve. With joy. With love. And for as long as you desire it, with him.

[mitsouya]

hiya love !! so just a little headcannon that i have is reader curled into jason’s side when watching a movie on the couch, especially in the colder months and he just realised and teases her about it :D

(currently freezing my ass off next to my broken radiator :( )

A Warm Touch

I hope your radiator got fixed!! (Hopefully, this fluff is tooth-rotting enough to warm your heart this winter)  ~900 words

Jason Todd knows he runs hot. Be it summer or winter, rain or shine, he's practically a living furnace. It's just a fact, one that's never really affected him either way.

Sure, whoever joins him on whatever stakeout he's on may shift a little closer to his side and joke about him being their personal space heater once in a while, but it's not a life changing truth.

Jason Todd is warm to the touch, and that's just how it is. He's never spared it a second thought, never felt good or bad about it. That is until you come along, and now he's never been more grateful for it.

He didn't notice it at first, the way you unconsciously (or consciously) sought out his warmth on colder Gotham days. The days wind pounded at your windows, the days snow piled so high on the fire escape his entire boot would disappear into it, the days frost seemed to seep into every crack in your building. 

But he was certainly noticing it today. What was supposed to be a simple movie night has his head spinning, his face fighting back a grin as you cuddle into his side. The blanket thrown over your laps is soft and fuzzy, but it doesn't exactly keep out the chill that settles in your bones no matter how warm your apartment is. 

Jason knows he should offer to get you another blanket, but he's more delighted by the fact you would rather curl into him– hook your arm with his and rest your head on his shoulder– than get up. He should keep quiet about his epiphany, the fact that you enjoy how he runs hot, but he's never been one to pass up the opportunity to tease you. 

"Cold," he asks, voice a whisper of a question and low enough that you have to tilt your head to hear him better.

"I'm okay," you answer, seemingly distracted from the movie by his nose brushing along your temple.

"You seem cold," he prompts, ghosting his lips over the top of your head. It takes all his effort to keep his voice from falling into a teasing tone, to tickle and poke at your sides until you admit that while you were cold, he's doing a wonderful job of fixing that. (He's digging for your praise, sue him)

You almost seem to pick up on what he's doing, your eyes finally leaving the screen to focus solely on him, which is exactly what he's been wanting. "I'm not cold," you say easily, but your fingers move to grab at his sleeve– like you're worried he's planning something. (He is, kind of, but nothing more than this)

"Well, if you're not cold, I could go sit over on the–" he starts, grin going sly and eyes filing with mischief.

"No," you cut him off, eyes narrowing at the thought of him leaving your side. "I was cold," you correct, "but now I'm not."

His grin goes wolfish, but he lifts his arm to sling it over your shoulder, letting you snuggle closer into his side, "And that's because," he drawls out, almost sing-songy. He fights back the laugh that wells in his throat when you roll your eyes, a tinge of embarrassment painting your face.

"And that's because of you. Thank you for having a body temperature that anyone else would akin to a fever, Jason," you finally huff out, holding back a smile of your own at his antics.

He rewards you relenting by littering kisses over every inch of skin he can reach, from your face and down your jaw and to your throat, he doesn't stop until you're both a mess of laughter and smiles. 

It's not until you're holding your stomach with one arm and tugging at his shirt with the other, that he pulls back to study your face, the way the light catches in your eyes, just how happy you look. (You study him too, the way the lines of his face soften, how one corner of his mouth tugs higher when he smiles than the other)

'Not too warm, though. Right?" he murmurs, the briefest hint of insecurity flashing in his eyes. It's a bigger question that he means to ask, even if it's worded as innocently as it is. 

"Not at all," you soothe, fingers brushing back his hair so you can return his kisses with one of your own. A slow, soft kiss that wipes every doubt from his mind as quickly as it appeared. 

"It's the perfect temperature," you breathe out once you've pulled away, fingers lingering against his cheek, and Jason has to wonder what he did to deserve this moment– to deserve you.

"Oh, Good– I mean– That's good," he stumbles out, and tries to ignore the heat that threatens to rise to his face when you kiss his jaw and turn back to the tv.

"Stay here a while and keep me warm," you ask, head nestling back against his shoulder. (Right where it belongs, if you ask Jason)

"Yeah, sure, of course. Happy to," he agrees, giving into the urge to kiss the crown of your head, "For as long as you need me." And he means that, when he tells you, for more than just sharing his warmth. No matter what it is, no matter how simple or grand, as long as you need him, Jason will stay by your side.

[mitsouya]

Shooting practice with Jason ⭑

( -_•)︻デ═一 pow ! ✮⋆˙

“are you even trying?” He asks with an unimpressed look. When you continue to fumble with the gun (possibly on purpose), he groans and takes matters into his own hands.

“No- here, like this.” He grabs your hands and positions them on the pistol, adjusting your fingers and correcting the way you held your arms out with clear experience.

He nudged your legs into proper position, grabbing your waist and guiding you to a slight angle.

It was an innocent action but your face is burning. When you try to take the shot again all you can think of is the lingering feeling of his scarred hands on your waist and you miss completely, hands shaking far too much to hit a proper shot.

You frown in embarrassment at being so easily distracted, but before you can think on it too much he comes up behind you, placing his hands over yours and raising your arms. His face is close enough that you can hear his warm voice right next to your ear, and it sends shivers down your spine.

“Come on, keep trying. I know you can do it,” he encourages with a smile. He’s just being a helpful friend, trying to teach you how to properly defend yourself, and here you are thinking of how good he sounds humming encouragements into your ear.

You’re glad he’s behind you so he can’t spot how red your face is turning. You take a second to prepare yourself or you just want to feel his hands on yours a little longer and with a deep breath you take the shot, hitting the target dead centre.

His grin widens. “See? you’re a natural!” He boasts dramatically and steps back, and your expression dips at the loss of contact. “now try it without my help,” he asks.

You get back into proper stance and aim perfectly, stance corrected and shoulders back, but when the moment comes, you miss again, mind utterly clouded.

He raises an eyebrow. “You can’t be this bad,” he jokes. “something got you distracted?” He steps to face you now and immediately notices your flushed expression.

He may be a little dense when it comes to romantics, but he’s not an idiot. Rather than tease you he just smiles reassuringly and covers your hand in his again, reaching his left one to rest softly on your waist.

He’s pressed against your back now and you want to squeal at the way his body basically covers yours completely. He rests his chin on your shoulder, eyeing you calmly like you weren’t on the brink of imploding. His voice is soft, like a whisper in your ear when he urges, “do it for me, yeah?”

And you do, abiding without a second thought and pressing down on the trigger. The hand on your waist is trailing down to your hip and tracing patterns on it, like he was trying to distract you. Yet somehow, you manage to make a good shot.

You’re still red in the face when just like that he backs away, smiling innocently again like nothing happened. You gawk at him and he just laughs and walks away, throwing out a quick: “told you.”

[mitsouya]

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄, 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 ! j.todd x f!reader

you hadn't realized the extent of the mess until jason turned his head. the light played over the faint smudges of lipstick along his face, neck, & even on his collarbone(so much for leaving only two or three lipstick marks). it was marvelous in unintentional vandalism, & he was gazing at himself in the mirror, with an expression of amusement.

"alright, artist," he muttered, tilting his head to the side. "mind telling me why i look like some kind of abstract painting?”

you stifled a laugh behind your hand as you leaned closer. "i guess i got a little… carried away?"

"carried away?" he turned to you, eyebrows raised. "you were marking me up like a kid with a brand-new box of crayons."

his teasing tone made your face burn. "i'll wash it off, i'll wash it off." you said, taking a towel off its rack. jason caught your wrist, stopping you.

"hold on," he said, frowning at one particular smudge beneath his ear that was so bold & red you could see half of it from across the room. you watched in amusement as he gently touched it with one finger. he grinned. "red. like blood, almost intimidating."

you blinked. "what are you trying to say?"

he shrugged, slouching back against the sink. "i'm saying if you keep decorating me like this, i might just keep one or two for effect. bad guys don't mess with the guy covered in battle scars &… lipstick art."

you couldn't help but roll your eyes in amusement. "oh, sure. nothing's more terrifying than a man with kiss marks all over his neck."

"don't knock it till you see it in action," he said, with a growing grin. "but next time." he tapped your chin lightly. "you better warn me before you turn me into your canvas. i've got a reputation to uphold."

"reputation?" you teased, crossing your arms. "as gotham's most qualified lipstick model?"

jason groaned, pulling you into his arms as if it took no effort whatsoever. "keep it up, & i'll leave a few smudges of my own. fair warning."

you couldn't help but laugh as you hid your face in his chest, the low rumble of his chuckle vibrating through you. hilarious, ridiculous, & utterly jason peter todd.

a few moments, your laughter—gone, you lifted your eyes, looking up to him with that sly grin for yours plastered on. "at least you officially became the 'red hood.’"

jason narrowed his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched. "doll…"

you let out another laugh making jason sigh & pulled you closer.

© minorlyatfault

[mitsouya]

lightning straight to my heart! 💘

Alan always manages to fluster you without trying.

PAIRING.⠀Alan Mido x Reader

CONTENT.⠀female reader | established relationship, fluff, selfship-coded | ~0,4k words

A/N.⠀finally...something for my fave.... + also available on AO3!

“Hey.”

You hummed inquisitively, slowly taking your eyes off your tablet and looking at Alan with a curious gaze instead. His brows were furrowed as he stared at his phone, seemingly trying to find something. He wasn’t often on his phone like the average student was, only using it for calls and messages and nothing else. The sight of him fiddling with the device was quite a surprise.

“What’s up?”

“Your phone.”

You blinked. “My phone?”

“The… background,” he clarified. “How do you do it?”

“You want to change your background?”

“Yeah.”

You got up from your seat and went over to him instead, taking a look over his shoulder. “Okay, so you go to settings, and then you tap here, and then you’ll find these wallpapers that came with the phone—”

“I want it to be you.”

“Whuh?” came your eloquent reply. It took a few seconds before the meaning of his words sank in, leaving you in a flustered state. “You want me as your wallpaper?”

“It took me a while, but I figured out how to save the photos you send me,” he said bluntly. “I already know what photo I want. I just don’t know how to do it.”

You deftly tapped at the screen, opening up the gallery and waiting for him to pick out the photo he wanted. Seeing several photos of you in it made your heart rate pick up just the slightest. You never thought too much of it whenever you sent him photos of yourself or whatever activity you were doing. To know that he was saving them made warmth blossom across your chest, a sense of giddiness washing over you.

He tapped on a selfie of you two together. His face was in its usual stoic demeanour but you were more on the playful side, your fingers sticking up in the victory sign while you smiled at the camera. You bit back a smile, gaze drifting over to him for a moment.

“You want this one?”

He nodded. With you guiding him through the steps, it didn’t take long before Alan had a brand-new wallpaper for his phone. It was a stark contrast to how intimidating he appeared. Your heart fluttered within the confines of your ribcage, blood rushing to your cheeks as you sat down beside him and scooted closer.

“You’re gonna kill me one of these days,” you grumbled lightheartedly. “Big bad captain of Vagastrom, a total softie with his girlfriend.”

“Well, you’re special to me.”

“See? How do you do this so effortlessly?!”

[mitsouya]

[mitsouya]

Attuned

Sho always knows when something is wrong.

✧ PAIRING: Haizono Shohei x Reader

✦ CONTENT: Gender-neutral reader; established relationship, fluff, emotional hurt/comfort. Sho is a bit of a tsun. 0,6k words

✧ A/N: He's really growing on me. // reblogs and comments are always appreciated!!

cross-posted on AO3 | divider by cafekitsune

You weren’t responding to his texts.

Where could they be…?

Sho stared at the open conversation on his phone with pursed lips, the little delivered message ticking him off more than he’d expected. You were normally quick to reply, having never ever left him hanging, so the fact that you weren’t even looking at your phone was highly unusual. He’d never say this to you out loud, not in a million years, but he was worried about you.

“What a pain,” he grumbled offhandedly, pushing himself off of the couch.

Leo looked up from his phone with his eyebrows raised, curious. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing to do with you.”

A mischievous grin came to Leo’s features. “Lover’s quarrel?”

“Fuck off.”

“Have fun!” he called out smugly as Sho made his way out of the Vagastrom dorm, making sure to raise the middle finger at his friend one last time before he left. He’s been with you long enough to recognise some of your patterns.

Comes with loving someone, dumbass, as he had said to you before.

His current objective was obvious: find you and figure out what was wrong. Darkwick Academy’s campus was massive, which meant the search would take more effort than usual. Not to mention how chilly it was outside. He could practically feel the tick mark appearing on his temple as he realised how low the chances of you bringing along a jacket were.

Way to worry him even more.

He started at Frostheim. It didn’t prove quite helpful. Fuji might as well have been in tears when he heard that you weren’t responding to messages. Luca was willing to help search for you, but something in his gut told him that he needed to do this alone. Why would you need a guy other than him to take care of you? It didn’t make sense.

The Pit was completely out of the question. You’d never venture in there by yourself, not with how much you disliked the atmosphere and the crowd there. Jabberwock was his next destination, but its cheeky captain said he hasn’t seen you around, so that was another thing crossed out on the list.

By the time he found you, it was nearly evening, and it was on a park bench near the academy’s main building. A complaint rested at the tip of his tongue, ready to nag you, but it died as soon as he got a clearer view of you. You were hugging your knees close to your chest and staring off into space, rocking yourself back and forth. Sho relaxed just the slightest before taking a seat next to you, unable to hold back the relieved sigh from leaving his lips.

“I’ve been looking for you all day, y’know.”

You perked up, looking at him and giving him an awkward smile. “Sorry. It’s been a long day.”

“Who was it? I’ll beat ‘em up.”

You chuckled softly. “It’s not that. I’m just… not feeling great.”

“It’s cold out. You’re gonna get sick,” he said, frowning at the sight of you wearing a simple blouse without a jacket on. Without much thought, he shrugged off his jacket and placed it over your shoulders, giving your arms a warm squeeze. You looked up at him with surprise before breaking into a genuine smile this time, eyes twinkling with joy.

“You were worried about me?” You sounded so hopeful and so… cute that it made him want to pinch your cheek in retaliation. He didn’t know why you were always so surprised that he cared about you. He was your boyfriend for a reason. “I’m sorry for the trouble, Sho. I just didn’t want to bother you.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I like it when you bother me?” he retorted, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Dummy.”

You wrapped his jacket tighter around your body, the smile not once leaving your face. “You’re a total softie, aren’t ya?”

“Shut up.” He rolled his eyes in mock annoyance but still pulled you closer. You could tease him all you want. At least you were smiling now.

[mitsouya]

" WARNING " | tokyo rev.

synopsis: how they would react to an empty/not-so empty threat on their weiner

warnings: suggestive themes. MDI. cursing, reader is a little aggressive but in the clerb it's all fam, energies are matched (izana), hanma gets his own warning, just yet another crack fix for yall lol

notes: a little some some for my patient readers 🤲🏾 hope you enjoy !

© 2024-2025 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[mitsouya]

okay but this one hits hard

“you watch your mother hold the enemy softer than she's ever held you.” girl.. that's poetry

[mitsouya]

his dad's genes didn't even try

[mitsouya]

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃

including michael kaiser, rin itoshi, and reo mikage with fem!reader

he sits beside you on the couch, engrossed in the random shows on tv. you, on the other hand, are busy reserving a table for your date at the new restaurant downtown. the sheer delight in your voice makes him glad he succeeded in emptying his tightly packed schedule for you.

[saturday night at 7 is available. would that be okay?]

a bright smile adorns your face upon hearing the employee's query. securing a table feels fortunate; it's not always easy on weekends, after all.

"alright, let me ask my husband first," you say to the phone and raising your eyebrows in silent expectation, demanding for his response.

⌗MICHAEL — the second that word comes off your lips, best believe michael is already grinning like an idiot.

him, your husband? seriously?

he never thinks too deeply about marriage—though he does want to tie the knot with you when the time's right—but he loves how endearing it sounds when you call him that. there's a mischievous glint in his sapphire eyes before he moves closer to your body.

"her husband says yes."

being the menace he is, he announces directly to the speaker, loud and clear, earning soft giggles from you.

"do you hear me? her husband—"

you cut him off and quickly apologize to the poor employee, all while suppressing the laugh that threatened to spill out of your mouth. he will tease you about this for the rest of the evening, and you will spend hours caged between his tattooed arms, listening to him yapping about his dream wedding. not that you complained.

⌗RIN — convinces himself he maintained his facade well, but the subtle dusting of red on his cheeks betrays him. he's unable to focus on the tv screen because did you really refer to him like that without warning?

realizing you're still waiting for his answer, rin fakes a cough to even his tone and mutters, "fine," loud enough for the employee on the other side to hear.

immediately shoots you a questioning glare after you hang up. he tries to act unaffected (which he fails miserably) and asks, "what was that?"

"what was what?" you playfully hum.

"you did that on purpose."

"i don't know what you're talking about, baby."

the slight pout on his lips amuses you more than you want to admit. he hides his burning face in the crook of your neck, mumbling something you can't pinpoint.

when you chuckle at his sudden clinginess, he looks up to you with those big, sparkling round eyes that remind you of his younger self. he's going to wife you up someday.

⌗REO — you know damn well reo's sickeningly in love with you, and somehow you think it's okay to casually address him as ‘my husband’? are you trying to make him explode?

the tv show is long forgotten and he's all over you in an instant, giving you a bone-crushing hug along with a sweet, dopey smile that you adore so much. you can whine and say it's just a prank, but it's too late to take it back. he already envisions the whole wedding thing.

"whatever my wifey wants," he speaks to the phone, all giddy and lovestruck. "rent the entire restaurant if you want, wifey. or buy it. or don't. actually, i'll just build you one."

before his rambling causes the employee even more confusion, you shut him up with a kiss and proceed to finish the reservation.