#Jason X Reader

[jennrypan]

Jason, walking in to the room in nothing but a towel: Hey--

Reader: YES, GOD! THANK YOU!

Jason:

Reader:

Jason: What the hell?

Reader: Sorry, I got excited..

Jason: I didn't do anything

Reader: ..Looking at you excites me 🙂‍↕️

[cindol]

jason todd is not fit for hookup culture nor will a friends with benefits situation work because once you’re in his bed, you’re in his bed.

when he sees you getting up from your side of bed he doesn’t even think, he just wraps a arm around your waist to pull you back into the sheets.

“jay… I need to find my clothes so i can like, do things.” you whined.

jason just yawned. “well, i don’t plan on releasing you from my grip so you’ll just have to suck it up and lay back the fuck down huh?” saying it with some grogginess in his voice but he sounded so certain.

he knew you’d just huff and lay back in bed with him and cuddle in the big blanket.

[amnxp]

Thinkin about you

Pairing: Jason todd x fem!reader

Summary:Jason just came home from a long mission and he just can‘t seem to fucking find you in your apartment.

Warning: panic attacks, kissing yk the usual

Wordcount: 2.1k

A/N: had to pump something out since ill see you in a minute is taking a little backseat also abril dont use Frank Ocean songs as your title challenge GO all aside guys i have 100 followers thats insane!!the other day i was just celebrating having 20??? Now100????TYSM:^^

Aight Toodles!

Masterlist

ENGLISH IS NOT MY NATIVE LANGUAGE BE AWARE!

Jason kicked the door shut behind him, the weight of two weeks undercover in Narrows scum clinging to his shoulders like a second skin.

He was still in his tactical gear, boots scuffed, knuckles split, lip blood red and raw from him biting it too much and helmet hanging from his fingertips. All he wanted was a goddamn shower and to find you curled up on the couch, half-asleep in one of his old shirts, perhaps waiting on him even when he clearly told you he didn‘t know when he would return with something playing low on the TV that you weren’t really watching.

But the apartment was silent. Still. Too still. He frowned.

“Baby?” he called, his voice hoarse. Nothing. Not even the sound of you rustling around in the tiny-ass kitchen that barely had space for both your bodies when he pressed you against the counter. “You here?”

No answer.

He dropped the helmet onto the couch with a dull thud, scanning the living room- small, lived-in, your touch on everything. Blanket thrown over the armrest. Mug on the coffee table. One of your socks under the edge of the couch. The place looked like you'd just stepped out for a second. But his gut told him otherwise.

Jason moved fast when he was worried. But now in your way-too-small apartment he was bumping into the walls. Bootsteps heavy as he checked the bedroom, the bathroom, the closet you both swore you'd clean out last week. Nothing. No bag missing. No note. No message on his phone, not that he’d had service the last two days. "Goddammit..." he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. The apartment barely fit him on a good day — hell, it barely fit both of you, and that was half the charm. But now it just felt... empty. Wrong. Where the fuck were you? He felt his heart start to race and his breaths start to leave him in short, quick, strong breaths that hurt. Before he could start ripping the walls off of your apartment because maybe-just maybe-you were hiding underneath them as a prank a new thought entered his messed up brain. Maybe joker got to you. Maybe Joker got to….you. And he swore to whatever entity above if joker got his hands on you he would tear Gotham from limb to limb until there were ashes left in place of this godforsaken city. His shaking hands fiddled with his phone to try and call Dick. Dick was still on patrol around the area maybe he could go out and search for you as Jason gets every weapon known and unknown to mankind to torture any of Joker‘s goons for information because any other explanation wouldn‘t make sense to him.

He has you. He has you. He has you.

And maybe you were already dead.

His phone fell from his trembling hands as he tried to pick it up again but his heart was beating too fast his hands were shaking too much snd they were too sweaty and everything just fucking hurt and why the fuck weren‘t you here? On his knees now his hands found his hair as he digged into the strands.

„Jay?“

His head snapped over his shoulder towards the door and there you stood. Key in hand and your eyebrows furrowed and not a fucking worry in sight about perhaps being captured by the Joker. If Jason couldn‘t breathe before right now he certainly couldn‘t.

His eyes glossed over and he parted his lips to speak but before he could even think of saying anything you quickly close the door behind you, mindful not to actually slam it shut, and stalk towards him as you land on your knees before him. His face contores into a small grimace as your knees scrape against the rough hard wood floor you had. Your nimble hands cradle his face and he can see your mouth moving but he can’t hear anything. His ears are ringing and everything around him was going in and out of focus. All he could actually focus on was you. Your thumbs brushed over the stubble on his jaw as you tried to get him to look at you- really look at you.

“Jay. Jay, baby? Baby, breathe. It‘s Okay.” Your voice cut through the white noise like a lifeline, soft but urgent and in a whisper, your fingers slipping into his hair replacing his rough ones that pulled at the strands just to ground him.

His lips trembled. You were warm. Solid. Alive. And he was going to throw up.

Jason surged forward, his arms wrapping around you so tight it knocked the air out of your lungs, but you didn’t care and you were quite sure that he didn‘t either. You held him just as tightly, if not more. He buried his face in your shoulder and breathed. In. Out. In again. It was messy, shaky, and uneven, but the scent of you was familiar, grounding and enough to make the world tilt back into focus. Slowly.

"I thought-" His voice cracked. “I thought he had you.”

You felt it then- the wet heat of tears hitting your skin. He had cried in front of you before. Many nights where his nightmares were just too real for him to bear alone. He would softly wake you up and you would hold him as he silently wept into you and you never judged him. Not him or his past. You closed your eyes and pressed your lips to his temple.

“I just went outside for a second,” you whispered. “We were out of coffee. You always want coffee when you get back from a job. I wanted to get you some but i forgot my wallet. Kinda glad i did right now“ a soft chuckle escapes you.

Jason shook his head against you, still holding on like letting go might undo you, might unmake you and all the fragile peace you brought into his chaos. “Didn’t see a message. Nothing. Place was too quiet. I-I thought…”

“I know.” You combed your fingers through his hair again, slow and soothing, like you’d done on the nights the nightmares were too loud. “You’ve been out there too long. Everything feels wrong when you come back.” You place your chin ontop of his head as you keep ranking through the back of his hair.

“It wasn’t just that,” he choked out. “I felt it. That...in my chest. The panic. I couldn’t breathe. You weren’t here. I thought it was like that time. I thought-fuck, I don’t even know what I thought, just that it was happening again. I was there again with him..”

In that warehouse.

With death.

You tightened your grip around him.

“I’m not going anywhere, Jay,” you said. “You hear me? You could raze Gotham to the ground looking for me, and I’d still come home to you.” He laughed then, but it was hollow, cracked down the middle, his forehead pressing hard against the crook of your neck. “Don’t say that. You shouldn’t have to come home to this.”

You didn’t say anything for a beat. Just held him. Let him collapse without shame. Because you knew better than anyone that Jason Peter Todd was the strongest man known. But even steel buckles under enough pressure.

Eventually, you pulled back, hands moving to cup his face again. His eyes were bloodshot. His skin, pale. His lip, cracked. He looked wrecked. Destroyed. “C’mon,” you murmured gently. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He shook his head in a frenzy. “I don’t want to move.”

“We don’t have to go far,” you promised. “Just the bathroom. I’ll draw you a bath. And we can sit. That’s it. Just sit me and you.”

You guided him up slowly, carefully, mindful of how unsteady he was on his feet, when you realised you wouldn‘t get another answer out of him. His grip never left you — one hand tangled in the fabric of your hoodie, the other on your waist. Like if he let go, the floor might open up and swallow him whole and he would be back there.

In the bathroom, you flicked the lights on and turned the faucet. The water hissed into the tub, and the steam quickly filled the room. Jason stood behind you, leaning against the sink. You turned and reached for the hem of his suit. Only now did you realize that he still had it on.

He flinched.

“Hey.” Your voice was soft, coaxing. “It’s me.” Jason closed his eyes. Breathed in again.

Bruises, fresh and healing, littered his torso like a road map of violence. The jagged scar near his ribs, the one that never fully faded, was red around the edges. You didn’t ask if he’d reopened it. You already knew. He had this tendency when he got anxious that he would just sit and scratch away at all of his scars as if it would make them dissapear. He didn’t speak, not for a long while, until your fingers ghosted too gently over one of the deeper cuts.

“I thought I lost you,” he murmured, eyes distant, fixed on the tile.

“You didn’t,” you said. “You won’t.”

“You say that like it’s a guarantee.”

You met his gaze. “You’re not the only one who fights to hold on, Jason. I may not be out there on rooftops or in back alleys, but I fight every day to be here. With you. You think I’d let some clown-faced asshole take that away from me? Take you away from me? I wasn‘t there the first time and i won‘t let it happen a second time.”

He let out a shaky breath, “I love you.”

The words didn’t tumble from him often. Not because he didn’t feel them, but because he felt them too much. Too deeply. Like they were fragile, and precious, and terrifying all at once.

You stepped closer and pressed your forehead to his.

“I love you too,” you whispered. “Now get in that tub before your muscles lock up like last time.” He groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

You helped him in and sat nearby, cross-legged on the bathroom floor. The bathwater lapped gently at the porcelain as Jason let himself sink deeper, the tension in his shoulders finally starting to bleed away.

A long silence stretched between you.

Then,

“You really went for coffee?”

You smiled. “Yeah. And those snacks you like.”

He blinked. “The spicy cheese ones?” You nodded. Jason tilted his head back and let out something between a sigh and a laugh. “I really do love you.” “You better. I’m the one who’s gonna be dealing with the tub drain full of your blood and war grime.”

He huffed. “Romantic.”

“Always.”

Afterward, wrapped in a towel and wearing the old hoodie of his you’d swiped years ago, Jason slumped onto the bed. You curled up beside him, throwing the blanket over both your legs.

Your head rested on his shoulder, and his arm wound around your waist, hand brushing against your side absently, like he still needed to reassure himself you were real. That you were there.

“I hate what this city does to me,” he said quietly.

You looked up. Jason frowned.

“How it makes you feel, Jay. How it makes you scared. That’s not weakness. That’s love. That’s being human.”

He was quiet again for a moment. “I couldn‘t stand living without you here. I think i would have gone mad.“ You shifted in his hold.

His eyes met yours.

“You don‘t have to worry about that.,” you said. “You came home, Jay. To me. And i will always be there for you..”

He leaned down and kissed you then. Soft. Barely there. But it lingered.

“Don’t ever disappear on me again,” he said against your lips. You pulled back just enough to smirk. “Only if you promise not to assume I’ve been Joker-napped every time I step out.”

Jason exhaled slowly, the ghost of a smile on his face. “Can’t promise that.”

“I’ll settle for a text next time you’re off-grid.” “I’ll try,” he said. And for Jason Todd, try meant more than most people’s swear.

You both layed there for a long while, tangled in each other and the quiet aftermath of panic. And while the city outside still breathed with crime and chaos, in this tiny, too-small apartment, with your heartbeat steady against his side, Jason felt maybe for the first time in weeks that he wasn’t losing everything.

That maybe, just maybe, he was allowed to have something.

Someone. You.

[kimjun]

Jason: I cut my finger

Y/N: I can kiss it so it'll get better

Jason: That works?

Y/N: Yeah my mum used to do it when I was little

*later* Jason: I need you to punch me in the mouth

Roy: Fucking finally

[the-s1lly-corner]

Wearing their jackets (slasher edition)

I need to write slasher stuff more.... I also need to watch scream like I said I would... and other films... but alas cotl rot is too strong

Characters: Jason, brahms, bubba, Thomas, Michael

Notes: reader is gn, cold weather baby!!, in Michael's bit yoy wear his coveralls because he refuses to throw a jacket over it

CWs: none

JASON

Built like a polar bear, he's so used to the cold that he just shrugs it off as he goes into the woods to get fire wood for you

Actually offers his jacket to you until he can get a fire started to keep you warm- he doesn't want you to get sick! Don't worry about him! Especially if this is zombie Jason, the cold doesn't really.. effect his undead body that much...

Doesn't mind it if you steal his jacket from him, he takes it as you being cold- but if you explain that it's partly because you miss him he feels.. bad.. he didn't mean to take so long in the woods he promises

Even if you said it jokingly he's going to do his best to make up for his brief absence

BUBBA

let me tell you, as someone who lives in texas: the winters get brutal. Incredibly cold, he's definitely got at least one coat somewhere... and even if he only had one he would let you take it

But... please stay close to him by the heater, he knows you probably want to go do something else with him but it's truly too cold to not be able to do much else without freezing in their old house- even worse if this takes place in their new home in the second film... underground

He thinks you look really cute in his coat and he tries to let you know that- hes... a little bashful but you think it's sweet

You both probably end up cuddling into one another under the coat together

THOMAS

Once more: texas gets incredibly cold in the winter depending on the time of year and where you are. He's got a coat somewhere

Not that that he really uses it, built like a polar bear like Jason. He tolerates cold pretty well, hardly seems phased by it.. he's so laser focused on his chores and work around the house that you often find him still working outside

And he's given his coat to you because you have a lower tolerance than him... maybe you can convince him to come snuggle with you under it? Maybe? He'd hate to leave his chores unfinished but he doesn't like saying no to you

Very heavy coat, very thick

MICHAEL

Completely unphased by the cold, he also doesn't have a jacket. The best you can do is take his coveralls when you FINALLY convince him to take them off so they can be washed

Does not like sharing his things, the likelihood of him humoring you after you put them in is low. May actually take them off of you himself... not incredibly rough but there's intention to yoink them back

If you're cold then go get a blanket or you're own jacket... why steal his things without asking?

It completely flies over his head that jacket (or rather clothing) stealing is common for couples

BRAHMS

Move over give him his sweater back he's FREEZING! If he needs to he's going to wear the sweater with you in it!

HATES the cold and he's going to make it everyone else's problem, please don't let him catch a fever reader! Please!

Fire place? Lit. Blankets? Gathered. Sweaters? Worn. You're more likely to see him leave the walls during the colder months so he can snag your body heat, too

Lets it go to his head if you let slip that you stole his sweater because you missed him... hes basically hovering over now- well, more than he did before

[deansbeer]

ִ ⋆ ⸜ 🏍️ 𓂃 𓈒ㅤ՞ 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐎𝐑 𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 .. !!

eighteen plus …♥︎ minors do not interact.

[ jason todd && fem!reader ]

synopsis! a heated argument quickly ends up in a fight for dominance in bed.

caution! smut + angst, arguing, toxicity, rough sex, make-up sex, dom!jason, light choking, spanking, oral sex [f!receiving], cowgirl position, dirty talk, possessiveness, praising, degradation, jealousy.

notes! i know i said i was taking a break from writing but then jason happened LMAO go and thank bree for putting the idea in my head <3

it starts with something small. it always does. a passing comment. a bitter tone. one look too long at someone else. and then it’s wildfire.

you’re yelling, he’s yelling louder. the walls of the apartment echo with the sharp slap of words neither of you really mean but throw anyway, like knives meant to miss but still cut too deep.

“you think i don’t notice?” jason’s voice is hoarse from the way it’s been rising for the past fifteen minutes. “the way you play it off like i don’t matter the second someone else gives you attention?”

you scoff, arms crossed, standing your ground in the kitchen, your chest heaving with frustration. “oh, fuck you, jason. you’re the one who disappears for days without a text and then gets mad when i talk to someone else.”

“i’m out risking my ass to make this city better—”

“and i’m supposed to just sit here and wait? maybe light a candle and pray you’ll actually come home in one piece?”

his jaw tightens, blue eyes blazing, chest rising and falling with quick, angry breaths. “don’t twist this. you know i care. you know i fuckin’ love you.”

“then stop acting like i’m the enemy,” you snap, voice cracking under the weight of it all.

there’s a beat of silence. a long one. your eyes lock with his, and the air between you could spark if it tried. you’re both breathing hard, adrenaline still pulsing, and then—

he moves. and he’s quick.

his hand curls around the back of your neck, pulling you in, lips crashing into yours with a fury that steals the breath from your lungs. it’s not gentle — it’s claiming. demanding. your fingers fist in his shirt before you even realize what’s happening, your anger bleeding into desire so fast it makes your head spin.

“you drive me fuckin’ nuts,” he growls against your mouth, backing you into the wall. “always got a smart ass mouth. always testing me.”

“maybe you like the idea of being tested,” you breathe, tugging his shirt up, fingers dragging across his pudgy stomach. “you keep showing up for it.”

he growls, low and rough, grabbing your thighs and lifting you with ease. your legs wrap around his waist, caged between his body and the wall, and you gasp as he grinds against you, already hard through the fabric of his jeans.

“you gonna continue being so mouthy?” he hisses against your neck, biting just hard enough to make you whimper. “or you want me to shut you up?”

“try me,” you taunt, breathless, already soaked for him.

he carries you to the bedroom like he’s got something to prove. maybe he does. throws you down onto the bed, pulls your shirt over your head, strips you down in seconds. his hands are rough, greedy, claiming every inch of your skin like it belongs to him.

joke’s on him. it does.

he drops to his knees between your thighs, spreading them wide with a look that could bring you to your knees if you weren’t already trembling. jason doesn’t waste time, just dives in like he’s a man starving, tongue licking a stripe up your slit before his lips wrap around your clit.

you cry out, hips bucking, and he grips your thighs tighter, holding you down.

“that’s it,” he mutters against your pussy, voice dark and wrecked. “take it. fuckin’ take it, baby girl.”

your fingers tangle in his dark hair, tugging, and he groans like he likes it — like the pain only spurs him on. he eats you until your hips are trembling, until you’re gasping his name like a prayer and pushing at his shoulders, too sensitive to take more.

“jason—please—need you inside me.”

he pulls back, lips shiny, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand like he’s just finished a meal. “yeah, you do. pussy’s soakin’ the damn sheets. so fuckin’ desperate for my cock, aren’t you?”

you glare at him, flushed and breathless. “you’re one to talk.”

he climbs over you, dragging his cock against your inner thigh, hot and heavy. “you want control so bad, huh, baby?” he murmurs, hand wrapping around your throat, thumb brushing your jaw. “you’ll get it. but not yet.”

then he’s inside you. one deep, punishing thrust, and your whole body arches, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he stretches you full. his hand tightens at your throat just enough to make your pulse race harder.

“fuck, you’re tight,” he groans, hips slamming into you. “always so fuckin’ tight for me.”

you moan, nails dragging down his back, and he hisses, grinding deeper, chasing the spot that makes your toes curl.

he fucks you like he’s trying to erase the fight, like he’s trying to remind you who you belong to. every thrust is rough, precise, his mouth dragging along your throat, your shoulder, biting and kissing the skin like he needs to mark you.

“fuckin’ mine,” he growls into your ear. “say it.”

“yours,” you gasp, legs wrapped tight around his waist. “all yours, jay. always.”

he groans, the sound deep and raw, and kisses you like he means to ruin you. and you want him to.

you flip him before you even realize what you’re doing — legs slipping around him, pushing him back, riding the wave of heat and fury and need. his eyes darken as you slide down onto him, slow and deliberate.

“oh, fuck,” he mutters, hands gripping your hips. “you think you’re in control now, huh?”

“i don’t think,” you whisper, rolling your hips so slow he trembles. “i know.”

you ride him hard, fast, chasing your own high with reckless abandon. his hands grip you tight, dragging you down harder, matching your rhythm until the room’s filled with the sound of skin on skin, your moans tangled with his gasps.

“look at you,” he groans, eyes locked on where your bodies meet. “bouncin’ on my cock like you need it to breathe.”

you lean in, kiss him messy, filthy, all teeth and tongue.

“maybe i do.”

his cock twitches inside you and you feel him getting close, but you don’t stop. you fuck him through it, chasing your own orgasm, using his body like it was made for you. only you.

“gonna cum,” he growls, thrusting up to meet you. “you better cum with me, baby girl.”

you nod, breath hitching as your body tightens, pleasure coiling until it snaps, and you cry out his name as you fall apart, clenching around him like a vice.

he follows with a broken groan, hips jerking, spilling deep inside you as he holds you down, buried to the hilt.

you collapse against him, both of you shaking, panting, sweat-slicked and utterly wrecked.

his arms wrap around you, holding you close even as he’s still inside you. his lips press against your temple, his voice rough but soft now.

“still mad at me?” he murmurs.

you laugh, breathless, nuzzling into his neck. “yeah.”

he huffs, fingers tracing lazy circles along your spine. “next time we fight, can we skip to the part where you ride me like that?”

you smile, eyes fluttering shut. “not a fucking chance.”

he chuckles, kisses your hair, and pulls you closer.

“figured.”

and even though the fight still lingers in the air, tangled in the sheets and the bruises you both left behind, so does something else, something steady and real.

him.

you.

and the fire that always brings you back together.

[hadesrise]

## murder for you, baby !!

summary──── a justifiable serial killer on the loose, and jason finds himself being enamoured by him.

pairings──── jason todd x dbd!ghostface!male reader

warnings──── nsfw content, serial killer themes, dead dove do not eat, sexual arousal in response to violence or torture, murder, blood, deaths, gore, foul language, bottom!jason, top!reader, reader’s physique is described as tall and broad ( the slasher build ), possessiveness, choking, praise kink, blood kink, knife play ( reader carving his initials on jason ), toxic!reader ( ? ), sorta toxic relationship but also not, unprotected sex, love-making, pet names, overstimulation, dumbification, degradation if you squint, lil’ bit of manipulation, creampie, doggy style, mating press, biting, marking, oral ( r. receiving ), voice kink ( ? )

author’s note──── not me coming back with halloween themed fic after halloween days have passed lol. i’m alive, y’all !! hope you enjoy this one that took a fucking month to write 😭

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ; this post may contain disturbing contents that may not be suitable for every reader — a reader discretion is advised. MINORS DNI !!

Gotham’s been terrorized by the worst people you could ever imagine, the kind that’ll stick with you forever and take residence to your nightmares if you were unfortunate enough. Many were hurt or even murdered as a result of the villains’ terrorization, with vigilantes running through the night to capture and send them to Arkham Asylum.

With the existence of a Psychopathic Clown, his equally psychopathic girlfriend with PHD’s that’s been wasted down the line, the Mother Nature freak, the ridiculously huge man with a gas mask on, the green coloured living question mark, and many others, no one would’ve ever thought anything could get any worse.

Until some criminals’ bodies turn up across the streets in such disturbing manner that haunts the witnesses to death.

One, a criminal who murdered young and homeless boys, gutted deeply to the point of their intestines hanging out. Another, a criminal known for kidnapping and selling people’s organs, mutilated with their torso torn back to expose the organs settled inside of them. Another one, a priest-turned-criminal who’s been violating women and children, crucified naked in his own church with his eyes gouged out, a Bible verse carved in his chest; ‘And if your eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away.’ Matthew 18:9; his penis cut off and body seemingly violated as well. Another more turns up, a governor-turned-criminal who’s been feeding into the rich despite their oath of generosity towards the poor, severely tortured with the skin on his back cut open, ribs severed from the spine and broken to the sides in order to create the illusion of wings, fluttering lungs pulled out from their chest cavity to resemble an eagle’s wings, with the word ‘traitor’ carved on his forehead.

The brutality and gruesome nature of the murders has set an alarming panic and fear across Gotham City that forced civilians into locking their doors at night. Criminals who were unidentified and not found by Gotham Police Department were also turning up in a form of miserable, tortured soul, along with the evidence and proofs of their crimes being carelessly laid beside their lifeless corpse.

The killer taunts those who are in charge of justice within their city each time the damned were unfortunate enough to be hunted down; pigs of failure written in the criminal’s blood right beside the drawing of a police’s logo.

However, despite how gruesome and disturbing the murders were, most people couldn’t deny that it was doing the city a favor. Justice System has failed more times than one could count to the extent of victims yearning to exact revenge themselves against their perpetrator, which causes most to react rather positively to the wrongful, unlikely hero who had seem to suddenly appear out of nowhere. The haunted finally getting the chance to slay the traumatic demons with the help of another psychopath on the loose.

Another justified monstrosity shouldn’t be the counter against one inhumane monstrosity that caused so much pain, trauma, and misery. But kindness could not vanquish one’s tainted blood. Forgiveness could not suddenly wash away the sins engraved deeply into one’s soul.

Imperfect, the victims muttered. An imperfect yet perfect way to save our burning souls wrongfully condemned by the criminals.

Red Hood has heard their murmurs.

Silent whispers of gratitude that fell on deaf ears, their previously dim soul brightening in relief and sanctuary with smiles on their faces as the Universe had finally took mercy on them and sent a Fallen Angel to slay the Demons away. He’s watched their spirit uplift, no longer chained down by the trauma and fear of the monsters that once ruined their lives, able to walk the streets carefree of tormentors. He’s watched their stiff posture visibly loosen, lively peacefulness settling itself at last within their haunted eyes. He’s watched them glow with happiness not feeling the presence of their perpetrator every couple of seconds, finally capable of living without needing to constantly look over their shoulders in paranoia and fear.

Ghostface is what the serial killer’s called, nickname born out of the mask that resembled a ghost always being left behind in crime scenes, each slightly different.

Jason has seen you. He didn’t mean to, really.

The temptation to get at least one look at you was great every-time he patrolled, wishing to just catch glimpse of an immoral hero who could make sacrifices no actual heroes could — who’s doing exactly what he wished before for Batman to do.

The Universe seems to have granted his wishes when his eyes catches the void of ghostface’s eyes, your mask tainted in splatters of blood from the dead criminal below you. Jason feels his world come to a stop as you slowly rise from crouching position and reveal your unnaturally tall height, broad shoulders visible under the black hooded leather. You hold silence and calmness despite being caught, tilting your head slightly to the side.

His heartbeat quickens yet he doesn’t feel fear. Jason idiotically steps closer as if he was in a trance, burning your existence within his eyes to engrave in his memory. Your bloody knife barely grazes his neck to stop him before using it to tilt his chin up, your figure looming and towering over him while seemingly staring into his eyes through his helmet.

A sense of peacefulness overcomes Jason being in your presence despite the absolute brutality and mercilessness that surrounded your entire being. You were deadly, silent, certainly creative with your work that it deems almost artistic, as if the criminals’ bodies were your own canvas to paint on — and Jason finds solace in you. A man he always needed, someone who’d be willing to cross the line and get rid of the actual evil for the sake of victims that’d be forever haunted if it continues to exist.

“I’ve heard things about you, Red Hood.”

Low, raspy, monotone voice speaks, sending shivers down his spine. It sounds cool and handsome regardless of the obvious use of voice changer, somehow littered with tiniest hint of flirtatiousness.

It takes him quite a while to answer, barely managing to let out a “yeah?” as he feels you drag the knife slightly closer to his pulse. His heartbeat quickens, but slows down when the cold metal was finally pulled away.

“Pleasant things,” You hummed, before your voice lowered a few octaves, “Can’t say the same about Batman.” Anger seems to seep through your tone that felt a little more than just sympathy for victims of villains Batman refused to put six feet under. Jason wondered if you’re also one of the victims his father failed.

“You… You know him that much?” Jason’s voice shakes from the nerve, your presence somehow greatly affecting him.

“I think everyone knows him enough,” You chuckled, but it sounded so empty that Jason can’t help but feel the goosebumps rise on his skin. It was quite chilling to meet someone who shows only a certain amount of emotion which could even be felt expressionless due to the monotonous pitch. The ghostface mask certainly did its job of making you seem more less human, the unmoving expression of ghost being horrified to death adding to the eeriness of your toneless mechanic voice.

Jason’s breath hitched when you took one step closer.

“But I know more about you. Your little past and the sufferings you’ve endured,” It’s spoken as if his life was one of your necessary investigation in your twisted justice. “It’s unfair, don’t you think? I would’ve gutted the Joker like a fish if it were to happen to my son.” There’s a condescending way in which you spoke, not directed at Jason but to Bruce.

“How—” Jason swallowed. “How did you—”

“I can make your dreams come true,” You interrupted him with a tempting offer, shutting him up effectively. Wide grin plastered your face despite not being seen behind your mask. “I can kill the Clown for you, Red Hood. If it means it’ll silence your troubled spirit. If it’ll bring you peace. I can hurt him on your behalf just like he deserves.”

It was like a whisper from the devil, slithering its way into Jason’s heart and mind to possess his soul, mirroring the one which whispered on Adam and Eve’s ears.

He’s been wanting — needing — to hear those words come out of Bruce. His suffering and death seemingly being brushed off as a cruel accident shattered him more than he’d ever admit, Bruce’s unhealthy coping mechanism and morality getting in the way of showing his love for Jason that left the younger man feel lesser than he was. Bruce was a complex person that’s sometimes difficult to understand, his impressive ways to stick to his morals being exactly his character, but Jason wanted for once, to actually feel how important he was to his father.

Was that too much to ask for, or was he just unworthy of the entirety of it?

“Why would you do that for me?” Confusion and subtle suspicion filled his tone as Jason narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out your intention despite the rush of hope that shot throughout his chest. He forced himself to feel nothing when you leaned in closer.

“Because you were wronged, of course.” You simply stated. “You are a victim. Not more, not less. You deserve a little more than just empty justice. And I’m a man who got tired of vigilantes that are afraid to make sacrifices for the greater good.” Then, you tilt your head slightly to the side in a way that’s somehow alluring. “But I can also say I’m intrigued by you.”

Jason’s heartbeat quickens again when your big hand seems to wrap perfectly around his throat, fingers resting just above his pulse points. It makes such filthy thoughts flood themselves into his mind, your long and quite thick fingers falling victims to his tainted imagination, and he had to give everything in himself not to bare his throat more for you. You seem pleased of his lack of disobedience and bite, having expected him to shove your hand away or flinch back before you could touch him. You’ve seen Red Hood once and how his uncontrollable rage resulted in violence, heavy burdens and extreme trauma turning him into a ticking time bomb that could explode any minute with the wrong move. He was absolutely lethal, the bullets serving as the evidence of his wrath and resentment towards the underground scumbags. It’s amusing that you have the man of violence himself now somehow completely under your control, surprisingly quiet and shy and obedient. You wondered if this is how he was before he was ruined by the cruelty of the world.

“You want it, don’t you? For me to kill the Joker.”

Jason feels as if you know everything he wants. Is this what it feels like to be important?

It takes a little while for him to answer, but he eventually came up with a “You’ll do that?” which sounded vulnerable and weak for the first time in his second life. Your heart clenched at the doubt and seemingly child-like vulnerability in which he uttered the words, as if he was afraid to trust something after being betrayed countless of times, reminding you of the sole person you’ve even began doing all of this for. They were quite similar yet so different — your older brother and Jason.

You hadn’t meant to cross his boundaries and unknowingly step into the empty hole that made home in his heart. Unconsciously slithering in like a snake by touching the subject his heart was longing for, not realizing his childhood’s still remaining within his spirit.

All he wanted was love and to feel safe again. You didn’t know the Red Hood was so adorably pitiful. A smirk plastered your face.

“I will,” You reassured and leaned your face inches away from his, the hand on his throat lifting his helmet slightly.

Jason doesn’t retaliate, blinded by a meat of hope dangled in front of him. He doesn’t move as the lower half of his face was exposed, and you lifted your own mask the same using your other hand. Jason willingly, obediently closes his eyes before your lips attached to his — a kiss of death, tasting like blood and cruelty. Warm and soft despite your rough, cold-blooded, corrupted soul. A kiss from the devil.

When Jason opened his eyes, you had already disappeared into the darkness with blood stains on the ground you stood before, a single note left behind; Hell will reopen for the Clown.

After neatly tucking the note inside his jacket and making sure no evidence has been accidentally left on the crime scene, Red Hood smiles for the first time in a long while and reaches for the comms without a heavy heart.

“Batman, I found another body.”

Whatever happens, he’ll have no knowledge of the following misfortune that’ll befall on the Joker. It’s the righteous serial killer’s doing, after all.

What was used to be a maniacal laughter turned into screams of agony and pain. Strong stench of death and blood makes euphoria rush within your mind, the feeling of slicing through flesh with your knife bringing pleasure and ecstasy that made your pants tight. There’s a certain amount of satisfaction in the way your own actions cause serious harm and scarring to criminals who once deemed themselves powerful, being reduced into nothing but a powerless prey that could easily be gotten rid of.

You feel increasingly powerful the more you strip them of their dignity and arrogance as they shed blood on the holy ground. Your existence alone striking them with crippling fear and anxiety feeds into your ego, yet you never stray away from the sole purpose or reason for your murders — making them taste their own medicine.

From what you found on countless deep dive and research, Joker preyed on Red Hood when he was still a young child full of life and joy, having been under the name Robin at the time. Second Robin to be exact, considering he was a lot different from the first one. It actually surprisingly pained you when you’d seen how much of an adorable, dorky, nice kid he was before misfortune cut his life short. You would’ve never thought you would find a kid adorable in your entire life, the little menaces often being nothing more than a headache to be around with that caused a certain dislike to grow towards them within you, but Jason was everything a cute kid was. Just excited to be there, to be fighting alongside Batman, to be relevant.

Such a precious boy ruined for the sake of shits and giggles for the Clown. For the sake of getting under Batman’s skin. And the Bat couldn’t even make fucking amends to his flaws as a father and mentor.

Well, he didn’t need to anymore.

You’ll give Red Hood— Jason Todd —what he wants. Yearned for. Perhaps, even what the other civilians who have fallen victims to this vile criminal want. You would stop at nothing until every criminal is gurgling and choking on their own blood.

Joker’s scream shoots a jolt of electricity within your body as your knife pierce through his skinny thigh and to the ground, pinning his leg down. You had been doing an effective job of reducing the maniac into nothing but a screaming, cowering average victim by torture. Bruises, burns, gashes, and stab wounds littered his body that was done carefully enough to not be life-threatening. Fucker was laughing maniacally at first, of course. It irritated you so much that you might’ve went a little overboard.

Watching Joker heave and struggle to breathe from the pain, you tilted your head and roughly grabbed his throat. It catches him off guard and he grips your wrist, barely even having the strength to fight you off. You’re amused by the entirety of Joker’s nature, how he’s still just an average man that can easily be overpowered — nothing that makes him special enough to not be killed, becoming proof of Batman’s selfish willingness to let the victims suffer than bring them actual peace.

You’ve never uttered a word since you captured him and it unnerved Joker from the beginning, but then, words finally come out of your mouth in a form of monotonous, mechanical, emotionless, eerie voice as you lean over him; “Laugh it out, Joker. Why so serious?”

It sounded like a death sentence.

He’s right in a way, because another of your knife pierced the corner of his mouth soon as you uttered the words. Your other hand tightened on his arteries to choke him while you drag the knife to slit the side of his mouth into a grin, following the lines of his red lipstick. It was certainly not a clean cut, but an artist has their own creative ways to make their art. Tears mixed in with blood that gushes out of his face, complete horrors written across Joker’s eyes which boosts your satisfaction. You go on and do the same thing to the other side of his mouth, before finishing your art piece by carving ‘J’ on his painted cheek.

You resist the urge to moan at the sight of blood coating your fine piece, always finding it to be an amazing finishing touch.

From then on, Joker was brought to literal Hell.

Jason flinches when a playful knock sounded from his safe house’s window, cautiously approaching to see ghostface waving at him through the glass. His eyes widened and immediately opens the window to let you in, not wanting anyone to see you — your sudden appearance distracting him from the fact he’s never given anyone the location of his safe house.

He stops in track at the blood splatters across your mask, and just then had he noticed you seemed to be hiding something behind your back with one hand. It definitely strikes his curiosity, but he somehow didn’t feel like you were holding something that could harm him.

“You got something for me, ghostface?” Jason feels you grin under your mask.

“Got you a present,” Your raspy, rough voice enthusiastically quipped.

Jason’s breath hitches when you show what you were holding — the Joker’s decapitated head in a square glass container tainted by its blood. You obviously had planned to bring it barehand, but you considered the possibility of its blood dripping down on his safe house and becoming a false evidence to point him to the murder, which prompted you to put it inside the container. An unbelievably sweet gesture for a fucking psychopath like you.

Jason could feel his heart beat rapidly as he takes in the animal’s state, carved up grin and the letter J and the horrors seen in its lifeless eyes proving the absolute misery and suffering it went through before being put down. The monster was finally, finally slain and gone forever from his life. Nightmares detangles from his spirit and the past unwraps away from his soul, utter peace and relief spreading throughout his chest. Tears gathered in his eyes at the feeling of being free at last from the life long torment, breath shaking as his knees wobbled.

The child in himself, the innocent Robin that was killed unfairly, finally rests in peace.

Then he sees you, his hero, waving your seemingly new knife playfully in the air with your outfit splattered in blood without a care that you actually saved him, and Jason feels a sudden surge of arousal and will to submit. To give you everything, anything.

“Do you love it, Red Hood?”

Without answering you, Jason grabs the glass container with shaky hands and sets it aside on the counter before stepping back closer to you again, blood rushing to his veins from arousal. He removes his helmet with a thud on the floor and falls to his knees in front of you, lustful and yearning emerald eyes looking up at you.

“Let me thank you, please.”

It makes you groan as your pants significantly tightens more.

You slide your knife back into the holster before cupping his beautiful face in your hands, and thank fucking Heavens there wasn’t any blood on it that would taint his face, because he’s a sight to behold. He’s truly a gem, something precious you had never seen before. “So beautiful,” You whispered, making Jason flush. “Baring yourself to me for such a simple present, doll?”

“Not a simple present,” Jason mumbled as he snuggles on the palm of your hands. “You saved me.”

You hum appreciatively, getting the itch to bare yourself to him as well. “You wanna thank me by what?”

Jason looks back at you, face flushed with a little hint of uncertainty and embarrassment, doubts. “I— uhm,” He stammers, but encouraged by your thumb’s gentle stroke on his cheek. “By… by becoming yours.”

Your cock throbs. Fuck, he’s so fucking adorable, you just wanna fuck his guts out. You’re usually tempted to gut people, not fuck their guts— which is funny to say the least— but you weren’t going to say no when the Red Hood’s so willing to offer himself up.

“You wanna take my mask off, doll?” He seems surprised by your question as if he hadn’t thought of it, making you chuckle. “If you wanna be mine, I gotta be yours too, don’t I?” It was dangerous to reveal your identity to him, but you couldn’t care less, especially when you could just fuck his brains out to shut him up. That’s the plan, first time that didn’t include butchering or cutting a body up.

Jason fucking Todd and his effects on you.

The emerald eyed male hesitantly grasped your mask when you led his hands to it, slowly lifting it over your head. He’s met with a fucking luscious feature to ever be adorned on a man and dark, lustfully murderous blood red eyes that makes a whimper slip past his lips. You merely widened your eyes at the sound he made before immediately grabbing his jaw and smashing your lips against his, swallowing Jason’s surprised gasp.

He reciprocates the insatiable hunger you displayed, tongue dancing along with yours and moaning into the kiss when your fingers lightly tugged on his hair. You pull him up in amidst of making out and squeeze his ass, encouraging him to wrap his legs around your hips. You detach your lips from his to trail kisses down his jaw and neck as you walked towards his bedroom, questionably knowing where it is, and Jason tilts his head back to give you more access with closed eyes. Letting him stimulate both of your restrained cocks by grinding down, you sat down on the bed and sucked on his throat as Jason moaned.

“Please, please…” He whimpers, uncontrollably moving his hips in a perfect rhythm yet he seemed to want something else.

You pulled away and traced his lips with your thumb, watching as he naturally took it in and sucked, giving you a desperate look. Swiftly turning off the voice changer attached to your neck in a form of choker, you chuckled when his hands fiddled with the belt on your hooded coat. “So needy, aren’t you?” Your real voice sends shivers down his spine.

An alluring, low, slightly rough pitch and somehow more emotionless than when you were using the voice changer. It makes his cock twitch and empty hole clench down on nothing, the need to be stuffed full of your cum swarming in his belly. You’re fucking bewitching, a man made up from every guy and girl’s fantasy, wet dream, and your attractiveness mirroring the Devil’s that would tempt and lure others to sin.

How the fuck were you real?

“Speak up, pretty bird.” You smirked, “What do you want?”

“Your cock,” Jason mutters, cheeks tinted in pink. “Wanna suck your cock and make you feel good.”

“Fuck…” You shifted in place, “You’ll do that f’me? Get my cock nice and wet to take you apart? To fuck your guts out?”

Jason shakily inhales and nods, climbing off your lap and kneeling on the floor. You lean back on your hands as he unstraps your belt and slide your zipper down, slightly raising your hips to help him get rid of the excess clothes. Your thick and lengthy cock smacks against your clothed stomach, making Jason’s mouth water. Thick veins throbbed on your big shaft, the tip angry and red from arousal leaking precum. It wasn’t just big, it was long, and Jason squeezes his thighs together to keep himself from just riding your cock all day.

His hand wraps around the base, starting to stroke it with a content rhythm. God, you were so fucking big. It’d definitely split him open if you shove it in so suddenly and fill him up nice. It’d make him scream his head off from the unbearable length and girth, almost too much, and Jason wants you to force him to take it. Pin him down and fuck him despite his pleas to stop.

Jason swipes his thumb over the slit, smearing precum, pumping it for a good amount before licking a stripe up the underside of your cock. You shudder, removing your gloves to slip your bare fingers through Jason’s hair, encouraging him to take you in. He obeys, relaxing his throat first before sliding your cock inside his warm mouth, and you groaned at the warmth that surrounded you. It almost didn’t fit from how big you were, but Jason braced himself and took it in further until he gagged as the tip touched the back of his throat. Wrapping his hand around your shaft that he couldn’t take in, stroking gently as if to apologize.

A moan slips past your lips when he starts bobbing his head, tongue brushing against the underside of your dick. “Fuck… Doin’ so good,” You roll your head back. “Such a pretty face to fuck, ain’t ya?”

Jason whines, tears gathered in his eyes as he sucks and fastens his rhythm. Curses, grunts leave your lips that left him feeling all hot and bothered, his other hand moving to skillfully pull his pants down and free his aching cock.

You see him touching himself and a smirk adorns your sinful face, gently scratching his scalp with your nails which earned you a whimper from him. “Go on, fuck yourself. We both know it wouldn’t fit that easily without proper prep,” Expression twisting into a cocky one, your grip on his hair tightened. “I’ll do as I please with your mouth until you’re done.”

Without waiting for his approval, you roughly shoved your cock deep down his throat and moaned loudly, throwing your head back. Jason gagged with a loud whimper as his eyes rolled back into his skull and cum shot out from his throbbing cock, hips jutting forward and twitching due to the sudden orgasm. You chuckle lowly, amusement and lust glinting in your bright red eyes, before you pull back and ram on his throat again.

Jason’s cries and moans were muffled as you ruthlessly use his throat to gain pleasure. His mind has already turned into mush from your assaults, white cum and precum staining the floor yet he doesn’t put up a fight. Taking it all like the good, obedient boy that he is. He’s reached behind him to insert two fingers in his awaiting hole, walls clamping down on the digits from the arousal of his throat being utterly wrecked.

Yesyesyes, please. He chanted in his mind. Use me, mark me, cum in my throat, make me yours.

The moment you fulfilled your promise and delivered him the head of his enemy, he was already yours. It’s all he ever wanted. Unquenchable thirst that always gnawed on his throat and hunger that left his stomach restless, his soul practically teared in half from being battered and beaten. He matters now — mattered enough to you, that you went ahead and killed the source of his misery. The love exploding in his chest was almost unbearable; he was already high on cloud nine from the moment he’s seen you present the head so cheerfully.

You see how he looks up at you, emerald eyes almost displaying hearts with how much he was melting. He’s taken your murderous act as an affection, and you couldn’t be more happy, because it’s what you intended.

“Shit, baby… Gonna cum soon,” You panted, thrusting vigorously. Jason hums and flexes his throat to provide you more pleasure, making you tighten the grip on his hair. “You want me to cum down your throat?”

You earned a desperate whine from him, closing his eyes to prove he was waiting for it. His fingers kept their own assault on his prostate, scissoring and stretching the squishy walls, muffled moans escaping him.

God, he looked so fucking gorgeous. He’d look even more gorgeous with your dick ramming inside him.

Jason feels your big cock throb in his mouth and his fingers move more aggressively to pleasure himself, wanting to reach his high at the same time as you. Stimulating your tip with the back of his throat a few times, you moaned loudly with a curse when Jason slightly flicks his tongue over your sensitive underside, forcing an orgasm out of your body. White, thick, warm seeds spurt out from your slit to his awaiting throat as Jason whimpered in delight and shot another layer of cum on the wet stained floor, hips thrusting in the air.

He greedily swallows every drop that spilled down his mouth despite the euphoria making him feel dizzy as his body slightly trembles.

You chuckled, breathing heavily, pleased expression spread across your face. “Good boy. That was such a good throat-fuck.”

The raspy, sultry tone of your voice makes electricity and chills run through Jason’s spine as his walls clench down on his fingers, yearning to be filled. Jason certainly doesn’t have a womb — it’s anatomically impossible — yet he couldn’t help but feel like it’s there, waiting and aching to be fucked and bred. He needs your cum to be pushed so far inside him. Need to be marked entirely as yours inside and out. Need you to rearrange his guts, fuck his brains out, breed him full, then fuck your cum further back into him.

Jason pulled his fingers out, whimpering at the loss of contact, before looking back up at you with begging eyes. “Can you-?” His voice cracks as he swallows, “Take me apart, please. Make me yours, fuck, I wanna be yours.”

You noticed tears gathering in his eyes, as if being rejected of his want to be your possession would be an ultimate heartbreak in his life; a life-threatening, gnawing thorn in his heart that’ll tear him apart piece by piece and shredding his soul. Jason thinks he can’t live without becoming yours, his savior’s. He can’t live without the source of his safety, the man that fulfilled his silly little dream and sacrificed his own sanity for it.

It absolutely amuses you that he’s become so attached just because you’ve driven him away from harm’s way. A little dumb, but he was your little dumb doll.

You gently caress his face and Jason leans into your touch, making your lips curl upwards into a smile. “Of course, doll.”

It leads to Jason being pressed face first on the mattress as you rail him from behind, sinful and alluring noises leaving his lips stained in drool. Your name escapes him like a chanted prayer, hands gripping the sheets, electricity sparking within his mind that left him dumb and unable to think coherently.

“Fuh-fuck! mgh, ah- yes, oh my god—!” He cries out when you pulled almost entirely back and rammed your cock roughly into him, almost seeing stars in his vision.

The roughness in which you handled him, the perfect angle of your hips allowing you to force pleasure out of his body every-time you thrust, the way you push his back down on the mattress to make him arch more into your merciless tactic, leaves Jason absolutely delirious. You didn’t just fuck him good; you fucked him with absolute vigor and violence, occasionally biting strongly on his shoulder to draw blood, showcasing your natural instincts as a serial killer. He feels your big fucking dick throb and gets impossibly bigger inside him each time his blood seeps out the broken skin, and Jason’s head spins at how much it drove arousal in his core.

“Good fuckin’ sex toy,” You grunted, roughly slamming your hips against his and causing a sharp moan to erupt from Jason.

“B-big—! s’too big- fuck!” Jason whines, tears spilling endlessly down his cheeks.

You smirk as you feel your ego skyrocket at being able to reduce a rather muscular man into nothing but a whining, blabbering bitch. “Yeah? I do split you open, don’t I? But you love it since you’re such a fuckin’ slut.”

“oh- aghn! y-yours— hnngh! Your s-slut! No one else’s-!” He chokes out, desperately reaching for you behind him.

“So fuckin’ adorable,” You chuckled and grabbed his hand, pinning it back to the mattress as you hover over him. You seem to fit against each other perfectly well, your large and tall body able to encage him that left Jason’s stomach fluttering. He’s taken a lot liking of the fact you’re bigger than him, considering he’s never been the smaller one when he was with others. It gives him a sense of shelter.

“p-please— pleaseplease- oh! cum— fuck… cum in me again!” Jason blabbered.

You can’t help but comply to his request, fastening your pace and drilling more into him. Incoherent sentences spill from his drooling mouth when he feels your cock pulse within his walls that signified your soon release. There’s a purpose in which you thrust your hips now — more sharp and angled yet a little sloppy, aimed to brush against his prostate and make him feel utterly good.

“Shit… Cummin’, doll.” You grunted right in his ear before shoving him on the mattress by the back of his nape and slamming all the way down on his already gaping hole.

Jason nearly screams, voice cracking, as his orgasm hits like a strong tide of wave at the same time you spilled thick layer of white semen into his fucked out guts. You ride out your orgasm by thrusting slowly a few times as Jason’s body violently shakes from the aftershock. He subconsciously whines in annoyance when some of your previous cum seems to overflow and replaced by your recent one, bucking his hips as if to use your big cock as a plug to keep them all in. His belly felt full from how much you’ve been filling him with your seed yet it still didn’t feel enough. Jason wanted more; he knew you weren’t going full on him yet.

You swiftly turned him around on his back without pulling out and kissed him roughly. Jason mewls into the kiss when the position makes you push more deeper into him, his hands immediately clasping at the back of his thick thighs to pull them up and make it easier for you to fuck.

“My cute little thing,” You murmured against his lips and bit the skin to draw blood, Jason’s hole squeezing down on you from both the pain and pet name. He greedily whimpers your name, holding onto you for life and yearning for more of you despite already receiving what he wants.

It was so fucking adorable and arousing to see him desperate for not just you, but your entire being as well, willing to welcome such darkness with open arms and tearful smile. You weren’t really a desirable person; so many people have thrown themselves at you for your conventionally attractive features and masculine body type that swoons hundreds yet cower away in fear and speak of you in disgrace when shown the demons living inside of you. No one could seem to look past your murderous, cold-blooded psychopathy — some have attempted to, which only resulted in your darkness growing bigger when they break their own promises. You weren’t meant to be loved. Your destiny was written in the stars and the Gods have cursed you with eternity of living in loneliness and madness without cure. You were meant to be feared, a lonely and violent soul that couldn’t be tamed, your sole purpose of existence being a destroyer; nothing more or less.

Jason, however, seems indifferent to your fate.

Instead of running away in disgust and fear at your acts of violence around the city, he was seeking for you. He’s seen what you’ve done, what you could do without feeling remorse, what monsters lie beneath your existence — and still, he graciously opens his heart (and legs) for you. There’s love and desire within his eyes where distaste should be, touch so soft and warm it baptizes your tainted skin. You’re soaked in blood yet Jason takes his time with you to clean them up. Born with thorns yet he willingly prickles his fingers on them.

You’re a danger everywhere you go, but to him, you were home.

It makes your heart clench; he’s broken the Gods curse and it costs him his freedom, because now he’s caught up in your webs. You wouldn’t let him go, like a snake that’s wrapped itself around its prey in a death grip.

Jason wanted to be yours. What better ways to fulfill his wish if not possessing his body, soul, and spirit?

“Sweet dumb thing,” You purred, hips thrusting slow and sensual, unable to forgive parts of his walls that weren’t touched by your cum. “Mine to fuck, ruin, or make love to. That’s right, yeah?”

Jason nods, moaning softly. Your hands now replaced where his were on the back of his thighs, bending him almost in half as you roll your hips to gently brush against every weak spot he has. The sudden shift in rhythm and atmosphere confuses Jason for a bit, his fogged mind unable to comprehend the situation at hand, but the intimacy strikes a further pleasure that was nearly mind-breaking. He’s been reduced to a moaning mess, blood, sweat, tears and cum coating his body.

“p-please,” Jason keened, like it felt agonizing to be loved ever so gently. “I— ah… I want- I want you,” He stuttered out between moans.

“You’re having me, aren’t you?” Replying, you nipped on his neck and sucked, leaving behind a purple bruise.

He nearly cries, shaking his head. A waterfall of tears streamed down his face, and you find yourself captivated by them. It was almost ethereal despite being one of human’s responses to most things imaginable; your victims always shed one or two accompanied by begs of mercy, but all you’ve ever thought of them was amusing. It’s been used as an escaping tactic from you before, which was never successful due to your lack of morality and sympathy towards your target. They were pathetic, but Jason was divine. Tears suited him— not tears of fear, but tears of pleasure and utopia.

Your focus snaps back on reality when Jason suddenly pulled you down by the nape and bit down hard on your shoulder. A pleasured groan leaves your lips at the pain, hips bucking, making him whimper.

“Jason—”

“Please,” He cuts you off and finally murmurs; “Wanna f-feel how… mhm-! how you actually love…”

It strikes something in your core. Despite your perfect skills of hiding your true nature and never being caught, Jason saw it right through you, how you were holding yourself back for his sake. Quite ironic to witness a cold-blooded killer care for someone enough to go soft, even though it looked like you were going rough on him, and it warmed Jason’s heart. But he was a greedy, fucked up human being who wanted all of you. It wouldn’t be enough until he knows he’s taken you fully.

An amused laughter erupts from your chest. Eyes darkening in lust, Jason feels one of your hands wrap around his throat warningly as the other pushed his torso flat down on the mattress. “You… You’ll be the fuckin’ death of me, Todd.”

You pull all the way back before ramming in, making Jason let out a loud, choked up moan as his eyes rolled back into his head. Your thrusts relentless and powerful, slamming against Jason’s body with an intensity that made his head spin, your hand holding his throat as a leverage. Your name spills from his lips like a prayer, something that seems to ignite a possessive feeling within you. Jason can’t help but mewl when your grip tightened on his arteries, throwing his head back to let you gain fully control.

The way he’s so obedient and putty in your hands despite knowing you can kill him if you truly meant to makes you love him even more, fucking him and taking away his ability to breathe wasn’t enough. Greediness turning overboard with the darkness and psychopathy that lies within your existence; you almost wanted to cut him open and crawl inside his guts so you could truly claim Jason, inside and out. You wanted to be more closer to him, see how far you can go without Jason pushing you away or getting disturbed.

Jason’s eyes widened when a cold metallic silver touched his cheek, seeing you holding your signature knife through blurred vision from his tears. However, he doesn’t flinch away like you expected him to, instead his walls squeezes down on your cock and his own twitched against his stomach. The unexpected reaction pulls a loud groan out of you, your hips bucking.

“Shit, Jay… You lettin’ me kill you or somethin’? Good fucking cunt just tightened on me,” You rasped, thrusting your cock against his prostate.

Jason gasps, his hands grabbing the mattress and holding it in a tight grip. It’s so shameful how turned on he was at the danger that lurked around you, his usually sharp instincts relinquished to be replaced by naiveté and stupidity for love. He must’ve gone insane; getting killed was one of his triggers because of his past yet his soul yielded nothing in retaliation to the possibility of your blade slicing through him. All of him seems to have come to love and trust you too much just because you’ve decapitated the beast his entire existence feared, which a part of him found utterly ridiculous and idiotic, but not enough to stop.

He wouldn’t stop himself from loving you — not when you’ve given him the love he always yearned for.

You lean in and ghost your lips over his as you dragged the knife on his torso, lightly scraping him. Jason’s breath quickens, his pupils blown wide in lust and need, anticipation seemingly running through his body as his moans turned into desperate whines.

“p-please…!” He chokes out a whisper, rolling his head to the side and whimpering when you snapped your hips warningly on his. “feels— fuck! feels g-good—! c-carve me… hngh! carve me u-up-! shit… make me fuckin’ bleed…! please,” Jason nearly cries for you.

Groaning out a curse, you reflexively bite down hard on the crook of his neck and push more of your cock inside him, causing a loud keen to erupt from Jason as he squirms and cums on his own stomach at the addictive sense of pleasure and pain shooting through his body.

You licked the blood that seeped out from his skin, satisfied at the clear bite mark you’ve left visible before sensually grinding your hips. Jason whimpered quietly, his body still trembling from the aftershocks of his orgasm.

“That’s it, doll. Let go, feel good. m’not gonna hurt ya, sweetheart. It’ll all feel good,” Whispering sweet words, you slowly press the tip of the knife just above the v line of his hip and drag it down. Jason hissed at the prickle of pain and tensed up, but the pleasure of your cock stimulating his sensitive walls was too great that forced him to relax. “It’s alright, doll. Jus’ carving you up with my name, so you’ll be mine forever. Isn’t that what you want? Be fuckin’ mine?”

Jason moaned softly, nodding his head. Series of pleasepleaseplease blabber out of him accompanied by heavenly noises he’s been making since you started taking him apart, his brain too fucked out that forcibly twisted pain into pleasure as all he could think about was becoming yours. You, his savior, his God, claiming him by marking him up with your name. Jason feels like he could fucking squirt from just that thought alone.

His blood seeping out from the letters of your name arouses you to no end, your cock throbbing inside him while you continue to move, the darkness within you being thoroughly fed of its bloodthirsty hunger. This is the first time it doesn’t gnaw at your skin to drive your knife deeper, pull the guts out, and splatter redness everywhere; instead, it wanted to be gentle, as if Jason was a significant existence too precious to hurt even for the Devil. A proof that Jason was always meant to be yours, the only one who the monster inside you would rather love than kill.

Carving the last letter, you laughed breathlessly in satisfaction and stabbed the knife on the headboard before slamming your lips against his, devouring his pleasurable noises. Jason whines, arms wrapping around your neck to pull you impossibly closer, arching his back when you switched into a much faster and rougher pace.

“Cummin’, fuck!” You grunted, to which Jason wrapped his legs around your hips to make sure it stays in.

“I-in— in me… fuck- oh my god— please… please, cum in me. Make me full again, p-please…” He begs, clenching his walls around you to push you over the edge, his own orgasm nearing.

Seeing him covered in his own tears, sweat, blood and drool fills you with nothing but pure ecstasy knowing it’s all because of you. The most appealing, ravishing man being a slutty mess right beneath you, begging to be bred and full of your cum, does feed too much into your ego. No one can do anything to take you away from him now, because you’re wrapped around his fingers as much as he is around yours.

“Anythin’ for ya, doll.” You chuckled, thrusting a couple more times before shoving your twitching cock deep into his guts with a moan and releasing your load. Jason mewls, his hole throbbing and squeezing down on you as he throws his head back, tainting his abdomen once more.

Riding out both of your highs, you let out a raspy groan and kissed his lips again, Jason weakly reciprocating due to the overstimulation. His body trembled hard, mind almost shutting down from the exhaustion and too much euphoria. “So good, doll. Took me like a good fuckin’ boy. Fuckin’ amazing.” You praised.

Jason could still see darkness in your eyes, the murderous devil, but there’s a hint of happiness he didn’t recognize before. Love and adoration filled your expression despite the violence engraved in your soul, and Jason finds himself smiling against your lips lightheadedly.

He whispers your name like a forbidden secret, then a curse that completely binds you to him; “I love you.”

You could get used to this, you suppose. There’s nothing more poetic than violence meeting love — two opposites can’t coexist with each other, but perhaps it’ll be forced to. After all, the Devil in you decided he was an untouchable divinity no one shall ever harm, not even yourself, despite its never-ending monstrosity towards humanity.

“I love you too, my Jason.”

When Joker’s decapitated head on a makeshift spear turned up that night, stacked upright in front of Arkham Asylum with blood splattered across the ground in words ‘True Justice for the Tortured Souls’ and a bloody ghostface mask laid aside for everyone else to see, Jason knew he was now in safe hands.

People say, never make a deal with the devil.

They never said he couldn’t love one, did they?

© all rights reserved to hadesrise ──── stealing, plagiarizing, or using my works for monetary gain is strictly prohibited. ask permission before reposting or translating.

[brain4stew]

Killers with a reader that has been kicking bosses’ asses in different games, worlds and etc, etc…

.

.

1x1x1x1

• Did not expect that YOU… Of all survivors and killers… Has accomplished something like defeating, humans, machinery, demons and possibly even literal GODS…

• You seem to frail, weak and vulnerable to them, it honestly shocks him, to hear your accomplishments. (But she also strangely loves it…)

• He’d ask you to spar with him occasionally. Normally it ends up with her being on the ground, under you, or with them being unconscious, as you have to carry them to the killer’s cabin…

• After a lot of that, strangely enough, she’d develop… Feelings. For you. He’d be in denial of those feelings at first, but they’d eventually accept their feelings for you.

• Of course, with his awfully high pride, they do not tell you about her feelings for you. They think it’d make them seem weak.

.

.

John Doe

• Genuinely? Confused.

• Doesn’t understand how YOU of all beings, has been able to do all that. You seem so easy to break in his opinion.

• Doesn’t spar with you, as he’s a bit unsure if you can actually handle the corruption he may inflict on you, if you two ever were to spar.

• Does develop feelings for you, but eventually ends up forgetting those feelings. Causing a loop with those feelings.

.

.

Jason

• Confused how you managed all that, but is also amazed.

• He sees you as some sort of “Villain” or “Hero” he used to dream of when he was a kid, before… All that happened to him and his mother.

• His mother keeps telling him that you’re the “Hero/Villain” he’s been dreaming, and thinking of. (She enables the thinking and dreams, to make him feel great about his actions, his strength and all that.)

• He and his mother thinks you’re awesome from all your accomplishments.

.

.

C00lkidd

• Sees you as a badass person. Maybe even sees you as his role model. (Cough. His dad basically. Cough.)

• He always asks you to tell him about your accomplishments, when he’s going to sleep. (He ends up falling asleep to when you tell him about when you fought a literal emotion demon. HATRED from blocktales smh…)

• You’re his role model, and always plays with you, unless you’re sparring with 1x4.

.

.

Mafioso

• This guy… Actually finds it intriguing that you have so many accomplishments, and was tempted to recruit you in the mafia. (Eunoia said no.)

• His goons ask you if you are able to lift and carry lots of things, or even people. You lifted all 4 of his goons, carrying them in your arms, which shocked them and made them giddy for the possible next time you pick them up.

• Mafioso once had a far too heavy object on him, where he was literally crushed, like a rabbit/bunny pancake (that one video of a bunny laying flat after a cage like object fell on it). His goons did try and help, even Eunoia tried. But, they couldn’t help him.

• So what happened then? Eunoia called you over, and you helped him. When I tell you, that this man, fell head over heels for you right then and there…

.

.

Azure

• Now, they normally wouldn’t be impressed, but when they heard you take down a literal CULT, that had plenty of potential hazard/atomic weapons? WOW.

• They actually asked you if you fought anyone, or anything similar to what they are now. And you, of course, say yes, that you have. You told them everything about the fight, and how you struggled a bit, due to the tentacles.

• And dear god, you swear you saw their tentacles swirl and make small heart shapes as they listened to you.

• They occasionally pick you up out of nowhere, just to see how you’ll react, and how you’ll get out of their grasp. Hands, arms, tentacles, you name it.

• They also ask you to pick them up and carry them a bit, although that is extremely rare for them to ask of you. But when they do ask that, you do pick them up and carry them around, careful of their tentacles and all that.

• The way they fell in love felt weird for them.

.

.

Noli

• This guy, he’s a bit of a prick.

• He sometimes teases you about your accomplishments, and how unlucky you are with those you had to fight.

• You in return, grab his leg and hold home upside down to shut him up, momentarily.

• He’s surprised by how strong you actually are, because he thought you weren’t strong, even with your accomplishments…

• This guy, actually wants to see how you’ll do against a dangerous exploiter/hacker… But doesn’t know how to ask you about that.

• He does ask you occasionally to pick him up when he’s a bit exhausted, which you do. You just, pick him up, and let him rest in your arms, as you go about your day with him in your arms.

.

.

Guest 666

• I genuinely have no idea how to write for this idiot.

• He’s confused, but also amazed by your accomplishments.

• His tail, is just wagging whenever you tell him a story about one of your accomplishments, he’s listening intently.

• He occasionally asks you if you can even lift him up and carry him. You did once, and it legit scared the fuck outta him, and he most of the time, doesn’t ask you to pick him up again.

• He wonders what Noob will think of you, but his thoughts get cut off by you sparring with 1x4, which he pays A LOT of attention on.

[gilverrwrites]

Which one of the DC superhero men would be embarrassed that they came into their pants in a public setting? 👀

Okay, so, instinctively I want to say it would be the men that are already prone to feeling a bit self-conscious: Clark Kent, Jason Todd, Barry Allen, Ted Kord

And then there’s the characters who would be mortified, if only because they’d previously considered themselves to have better control over themselves (whether they’re correct or not): Dick Grayson, Hal Jordan, Vic Stone

[Sidenote] Characters that would obviously try to cover themselves up for decency purposes, but wouldn’t be ashamed, so much as eager for payback: Wally West, Arthur Curry, Michael Carter, Tim Drake

And characters that would have no shame at all: John Constantine, Roy Harper, Conner Kent

But if I may throw a wildcard your way as my final answer, celebrity characters, who not only have to deal with the fact that you’ve made a mess of them, but have to hide if from the media swarm that could descend upon them at any moment: Bruce Wayne, Oliver Queen

I can just see their tense shoulders, hunched frames, trying to wave of the paps while strategically covering the stain in their slacks. The way they’re glaring at you any chance they get, so much so that there’s speculation of a break-up or feud on all the gossip sights the next day. The way they mutter in your ear, voices low and tight but not as tight as their grip on your waist as they try to use you as a shield, threatening all the things they’re gonna do to as soon as they get you home.

[meskit]

[dreamerimpossible]

Slasher Jealousy Scale

Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, in certain cases yandere tendencies, +18 content.

Michael Myers 3/10

Not too jealous. He usually doesn't understand the reason for those feelings. Furthermore, no one would be able to touch what he marked for him, his superhuman strength and imposing figure would be on top of anyone who dared to look in your direction. So, he would never get jealous. There's just no need.

Chucky 8/10

Completely canonical that he's a jealous bastard. Just tell him he's not man enough for you and he'll get on top of you without thinking twice forcing you to back off. The person who set his sights on you doesn't have a good destiny, obviously. In reality, it's not good to play with him, his pride as a man is too strong.

Billy Loomis 9/10

Abandonment issues become too present. He doesn't like you getting close to too many guys. If his partner knows his true nature, he will be overly controlling and possessive, he would not like his partner to get too close to friends who could be a threat to their relationship. He is quite manipulative and will use such tactics to get you to stay away from those he doesn't like.

Stu Macher 6/10

Medium level of jealousy. He doesn't like being replaced by someone else, but he won't show much of a reaction if you talk to friends who like you. Anyway, he is also popular and will interact with all types of people. However, if he sees something very noticeable, he will pull the strings underneath and that person who made him jealous will magically disappear. For the sake of the relationship, don't talk about it.

Patrick Bateman 10/10

All your attention should be directed at him. The more genuine your interest and compliments, the more he will seek your attention, so making him jealous and paying attention to someone else would be the end of it. He needs complete devotion. He won't tolerate distractions and could take care of them. Making him feel insecure indirectly is not the best option you could take. It is better to dedicate everything to him.

Jason Vorhees 10/10

He literally keeps you locked up, that is the most representative indication of the matter. He does not like those people standing over you looking at you with lust. He is the only one you need. Yes, he will take care of you and protect you. You should be calm.

Leatherface 10/10

Too insecure with himself, so he expects you to have impeccable behavior. Although luckily for you, you will not have too many moments in which he will get jealous because your only environment is his family. So you must treat them with respect and with certain limits and distance. If not, he will get frustrated. And we know his way of dealing with that.

Art The Clown 2/10

He is not jealous, everything for him is a violent game. If someone flirts with you, he will laugh and do his thing with the same energy as always. Although he won't tolerate you ridiculing him, if you flirt with someone, you will pay, but not because he gets jealous, but because he is the one who makes the rules, not you.

Jason Dean 10/10

Dependent, possessive and obsessive. He's literally a warning in and of himself. Seriously, don't flirt or let yourself be flirted with. Don't break up with him, don't walk away from him, don't stop paying attention to him. Just don't leave him, he's very jealous and won't let you go for any reason. Oh, he's also manipulative, so he'll definitely get you to walk away from that harmless guy in your class.

Alex DeLarge 2/10

He doesn't formally qualify as a slasher, but I'm including him anyway. I don't really see him as jealous, he's more of a controlling guy. He doesn't like having his first choice role in other people's lives taken away from him, he is the leader and the one who commands, but he won't get jealous of anyone, because he thinks highly of himself and is charming when he wants to be. He probably has you wrapped around his finger, so…why get jealous?

Brahms 15/10

He won't let you leave the house for that reason. He doesn't want you to leave him, any outsider is a threat. You are only his, you must accept that. However, even if you accept it, he will still be jealous, because he can't help it. If you want to go out somewhere, he will wonder if it is because you want to see someone.

[cindol]

I saw ur last jason todd post and im lowkey obsessed with the idea of him having a friends with benefits sort of relationship which is technically casual but hes also just insanely obsessed and possessive

oh . . . veryyyy much approve of this message luna . ( gender neutral reader with afab anatomy btw ! )

cw — smut, p in v, possessive behavior obviously lol,

jason at first didn’t have a problem with this relationship you had with him. He was the one who proposed this idea of a casual friends with benefits relationship and he was ready to lay in the bed of these choices, as long as you were in the sheets with him.

jason thought he’d be the one unaffected by this. He put these rules in motion : no getting attached, he can fuck whoever he wants and you can fuck whoever you pleased.

but that all changed when he saw how you flirted and how people flirted right back at you in public, at the grocery store of all places.

the little things you did like twirling a strand of hair and laughing while talking to someone or teasingly tapping at their shoulder, even taking the extra mile and locking your arm around theirs.

the flirting never gets far, surprise surprise jason joins you and this jittery guy you’re flirting with. He knows he the poor man doesn’t have a chance, he’s still just so territorial when it comes to you.

grinning and saying, “didn’t think i’d run into you huh?” not even acknowledging the man in between you and him in the checkout line.

you’re still holding onto the dude’s arm, now with a lighter grip as you shot a grin right back at jason. “well you don’t think i can just survive off of Chinese food like you all day do you jay?”

and you both just had that entire back and fourth banter the entire time. Jason looking at this man you’ve stopped clinging on for just a moment. His eyes meeting his death glare as a way to say, ‘this thing me and them got going on? stay the fuck out of it, man.’

no offense to the man, of course. He was just territorial about what his is his and his alone.

his possessiveness always lead to good sex. You laid flat on your stomach and jason and all his mass weight on top of you, fucking deep into you. The only ambience in his bedroom was the shared moans between you both and squelching noises.

“you’re mine…”, he gave you a deep thrust, “don’t care what dipshit’s got your panties all twisted, you’ll always be mine.” he muttered it into your ear, practically breathing down your neck while he fed your pussy nice deep sloppy thrusts.

“o-oh—- fuuck….— yeah? What about that rule about no getting attached? Hyprocriteee…” you moaned out your words.

that only made jason fuck into you more with one arm locked around your neck, not too tight but just in the middle of how tight he needed his grip on you to be. “fuck the damn rules, you got into my bed, you’re mine by default.”

[1x1x1x1x1x1x1x1]

killer doctor!reader perhaps,,, like reader is a well-known doctor who is nice and kind, but when they were forsaken, the spectre made them think the survivors are sick/infected, so they want to 'cure' them. by the way, their way of killing is just,,, gentle and painless, like a quick death.

(+ a point if reader is blind or mute because idk i just feel like it xd)

hopefully this makes sense! feel free to ignore this <3

HII!! this is such a fun request and i hope i did it with what you had in mind!!

(this is gonna be x killers since you didnt specify if you want it to be the survivors, killers or both

i might make a part 2 with the survivors if this goes well!!)

.ᐟ.ᐟ possible OOC and spelling mistakes (im too lazy to reread.)

anyways ENJOY! coughs,,,,,, lobotomy

Killers × Doctor!Killer!Reader

1×1×1×1｡𖦹°‧

The spawn of hatred,, i think you know how this one goes huh?

The first time she saw you, he thought you were no threat and harmless,

You proved that wrong after your first match. That made her spiral a bit

She DOES wish you wouldn't go so easy on them though,, especially on a certaint someone. He thinks they don't deserve any mercy, but oh well.

You have helped him bandage some nasty slash wounds a few times, shes thankful, but nobody will waterboard that information out of them.

They know the Spectre made you see something else, twisting your percieving of this world and the survivors, but its not like he's gonna try to wake you up or something like that. She knows that won't work.

Found this out because everytime he tried talking to you, you just kinda... stared at them. Nothing else. Not like she's seen you talk too.

John Doeִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ

well he's.. something.

He looks at your gameplay from time to time, thinking about what he feels about this, about you.

The little of what he has of his counciousness left tells him that you are/were a doctor? 'Well thats nice' is the only thing that comes to mind before it being pretty much empty again

You have patched him up a few times after a nasty round, getting stunned, punched and backstabbed way too many times.

You guys did have some nice/friendly interactions together, its just that he forgot about them.

forsaken!Jason𓌏་༘࿐

what a guy amirite..

since (IF) youre both mute, you guys can practically speak without words

Actions speak louder than words after all i guess!

Speaking of actions, you have helped him multiple times after a round, and he has thanked you multiple times.

Loves spectating you when youre the killer, one of his favorite activities to pass time. Although he too thinks youre going too easy on them.

C00lkidd.✶ ⋆ (PLANTONIC!!)

LOVES your whole 'doctor' theme

He WILL make you play pretend with him, with him as the patient.

Also really likes spectating you!! Although he doesnt see you 'killing' the survivors, just a quick nap

draws you, so much. You have a whole wall dedicated to them in your cabin.

Noli-.ᐟ.ᐟ

The absolute FIRST thing he does when you spawn in for the first time is make fun of how you dress, probably why you disliked him at first.

He does eventually act 'nicer' (if you can even call it that)

He is most definetly impressed by how quick you can server-wipe and how good you look during it,, wait who said that.

He immediately catches himself off guard after thinking about how well youre doing in the round.

This also means that from now on when you help him after a round, he will NOT be able to stay still,,

So now he IS a bit less of a jerk, but still taunts you. Like a LOT

Playing random sound effects, etc etc.

Hes an asshole, but he can be sweet.

extra!!

Mafioso🂱⚔

Ohh this guy

Hes really fond of you, mostly for helping his guys a few times with some nasty wounds.

Youre the first person they come to (and the only one they can now, since they've been forsakend.)

He appreciates how quick you get things done, no stretching out the killing part. Just quick and painless

Theres just something about you that just drives him closer

Ah, and he doesnt mind you being mute at all! He can understand most physical cues that you give him

okay so this is like,, pretty short. and there defo are some spelling mistakes but i just want to get this out lol

ty for reading!!

[kimjun]

Damian: crushes are the worst

y/n: right? i tend to act stupid around mine

Jason: you always act stupid

y/n: yeah, don't think too hard about that

[anime-villian-irl]

"id let the world burn for you"

"I'd kill for you"

"id die for you"

"I'd sacrifice the world for you"

BORING!

Yawn snore snore. Honk shoo honk shoo.

I got twelve other guys ready to that for me. You already do that. You already destroy the world I would just happen to be there while you did.

The real question is.

Would you save the world for me?

Would you put aside your hatred for humanity and put my love for it Infront? Would you save the world because I love the world? Would you stop killing because I hate killing? Would you find a way to live because I want you alive?

Death and destruction are easy as hell. Do you know how fucking easy it is to kill someone? To blow up a building? Shure security is in the way but if it wasn't there it would be easy as hell.

You'd do the basics shure. But would you do the hard thing and save the world because I asked you to?

Would you push aside your hatred of everyone but me because I asked you to nicely?

Would you?

[the-kr8tor]

Crazy stupid love with 📽 !! With Jason of course ♥️

Jason admits he has a girlfriend but the batfam believes she isn't real until one day, she shows up. (Your choice on if they were penpals, long distance, etc)

Hehehe i had so much fun with this one! I hope you like it pinky! ❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem! Reader/ Red Hood x fem! Reader

Word count: 5.6k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader except for clothing, established relationship, you and Jason are penpals turned lovers, CW food mentions, alcohol mention, a few suggestive jokes, fluff!

Katy's Summer Flick Screening 📽️

Navigation

Jason has been acting…strange lately. He's usually all frowny and moody during patrol. And it has his brother a little concerned. The vigilante has been like this for a few weeks now or maybe even more when it's only just now that Nightwing realises that he hasn't cursed out Bruce for months now. He just thought that he got a new shiny gun or something.

The man perched on the edge of a billboard with him does not look like the broody Red Hood, who prefers to work alone and amidst the dark. He's more… mellow.

As Nightwing stares at his brother, his gaze narrows at the way Jason's mouth curves upward in such a weird way that he thinks that he could be infected by the Joker toxin.

“What's wrong with you?” He blurts out, arms crossed over the symbol on his chest as Red hood barely looks up from his phone.

“Why, what's wrong with who?” Barbara unintentionally hears his question through the comms that Dick keeps forgetting to turn off during lulls in patrols.

“Jason, he didn't even look at me.” He says, offended when Jason keeps smiling at his phone that's too bright for him to take a peek at. Curse the permanent fog around Gotham and its almost eternal darkness.

“Because it's a rude question, Grayson.” Jason finally responds gruffly, his green eyes briefly glancing at his brother with annoyance.

“Well, I apologise for being concerned about your well being.”

“Wait, what did he say?” Tim replies from across the city through the cackling comms. His voice is strained as the unmistakable click of the device sounds in his ears that signals that everyone has joined in on the conversation.

“He said— Jason, open your comms.” Dick raises a brow, clicking his tongue, impatient while Jason keeps typing with nonchalance.

“No.” The red clad vigilante says flatly.

“Stop typing for a second and unmute.” Nudging Jason's boot with his own, Dick huffs when he continues to ignore him.

“Oh shit, he's typing?”

“That's very concerning indeed, Drake.” Damian replies monotonously with sarcasm as the wind rushes from his side.

“I'm ignoring that—!” Tim groans, followed by the sound of something falling down on the ground harshly. Heaving, he exhales loudly. “What I meant was that I've noticed that too.”

“Noticed what?” Nightwing tries to take a peek at the phone again, but Jason's too quick, shutting it off and placing it inside his pocket with a smug look.

With a click of a button, he unmutes his comms. “That I'm talking to someone.” Jason rises to his full height on the slim metal bannister, feet stable against it like he's just standing on solid ground.

“You're talking to someone?” Everyone asks in various tones of surprise.

“You have friends, Todd?” Damian asks, everyone could hear the smirk from his voice.

“I thought you were in some book forum arguing about Jane Eyre or some shit.” Tim sounds more winded but decides to tease his brother anyway.

“Good on you, Jason. You need friends outside of this.” Meanwhile Barbara sounds ecstatic as she types on the bat computer.

“Please tell me it's a therapist.” As for Nightwing, he presses his hands together and points at him with a glimmer in his eyes. “You do need it, Jay.”

“We all need it, Dick.” The Oracle sighs.

Jason has an intense urge to jump off the billboard and head home. “First of all, yes, I have friends, you demon spawn. Second, I am in a book forum just because people's opinions are shit. Third, stop looking up who I'm talking to, Barbara.”

“Oh shit! You got found, Barbs.”

“I can't believe you've got friends.”

“That's still a no on the therapist then?”

“I'm not—!” The Oracle fumbles out, sighing against the receiver but the typing doesn't cease. “How did you even—?”

“I can hear you typing it all out.” Sighing, Jason hops off the railing and lands on a more solid structure beside his blue clad brother. “Let me save you some time since you're all going to find out anyway because you can't mind your own fucking business.” With a deep inhale, second guessing his decision, he swallows thickly before uttering your name with fondness that his family doesn't miss from his tone. “You all happy now?”

There's silence on both ends.

Dick purses his lips together, either trying to suppress a chuckle or from saying something that'll get his teeth knocked out. For a moment, the quiet has Jason nervous. He acts like he doesn't care as he leans against the billboard, his back turned against an advertisement about Wayne enterprises.

“Well, that's… nice, right? That's a girl's name, I think?” Tim sucks in his teeth, groaning as he sits down on a random rooftop to nurse his wounds. “I mean, it's not like it's bad if it's not— I'm proud of you either way, Jay!”

“You're digging your own grave, Drake.”

“Stop calling me by my last name, Damian, we live in the same house!” Tim rolls his aching joints and clears his throat. “Anyway, I call bullshit on this! You have no time or the charisma to pull someone—”

“Found her!” Barbara victoriously claps, then changes tune with a clear of her throat. “I mean— thank you for telling us, Jason.”

“Yeah,” Dick approaches him with the same trepidation as a zoo keeper in a lion enclosure. “That must've been hard to tell us, Jason.” With a palm on Jason's broad shoulder, he smiles lopsidedly.

“My therapist tells me I need to open up more.” With those parting words, Jason leaps off the billboard expertly, shooting off his grappling hook and landing safely below before Dick could even register his brother's statement.

“You hear that, Bruce? I think our Jaybird has a girl.” Barbara smiles widely while the others are left speechless.

“I heard.” Batman's unmistakable deep voice sounds out through the comms. “Bring her to dinner at the manor.”

“Not a chance!” Jason exclaims above the roar of his motorcycle's engine. He yanks the earpiece out before his family could even speak their piece. Their muffled voices echo into the night as he decides to patrol around the city on his own. Preferably without his family's nosey selves.

—

“I told you, not a chance.” Jason plops down on his couch, the springs bouncing briefly under his weight as he unlaces his boots. “Babe, absolutely not.”

“Well, it's the perfect chance.” You bite the inside of your cheek, phone tucked in between your shoulder and cheek while you spread butter on toast. “I'm going to visit you in a week and I could finally meet your family then! Two birds with one stone.”

Dead on his feet, he forgoes yanking off his boots to rest his head against the back of the couch, staring at his popcorn ceiling. Maybe he should scrape that off for you, just in case you don't like the look of it.

“A week's time, huh?”

“Imagine that, a year of being together and we can finally see each other in person.” He could hear the excited grin from your tone.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot, Jaybird.” Your use of the word isn't lost on him, making him smile as he hears you take a bite of your breakfast.

He has never gotten used to the time difference. When it's the dead of night on his side, you're just about to wake up. There's pros and cons about it, usually cons since there's not enough time in the world to speak with you. But all the sleep he lost during all the conversations he had with you, either nonsense or full of affection, is all worth it just to hear your voice.

It all started from a pen pal service that his therapist recommended so he could talk to someone and hopefully make a friend. He still has his issues but having someone to talk to has made him better, feel less alone and feel less shit about everything. Whenever he opens his eyes in the morning, his heart no longer beats like a drum the moment he wakes. And the world doesn't seem so bleak, that it doesn't feel like it's beating him down just because it's him. And it wasn't all thanks to you, like you've always told him, the progress is all because of him and how he chooses to make everything around him. And just like what he always tells you, you've been a guiding light on that path.

Then it went uphill from there, a one page letter turned into two, then to three, then it's as if he's writing a college essay and sending it to you. If college essays are about the books he's hate reading and what he did that day. After a year of letters, the two of you finally took a leap forward and exchanged numbers. It was slow at first, but it was the greatest decision he ever made. The first time he heard your voice could be compared to finding bottled water in a desert. Then the first video call with you would be him seeing an oasis. A year of phone calls and late night talks has finally come to fruition with you visiting Gotham.

“What are you eating?”

You almost choke on the piece of toast, chuckling while coughing through the receiver. “And here I thought you were going to ask something more paramount.”

“Asking what you're having is paramount because you eat nothing but toast in the morning.”

“Toast is good enough, Jason.”

He sighs, starting to unload his weapons from his holster to the coffee table. “Not enough for my girl since you're anemic. Seriously, babe, you need something more filling and healthier than that.”

“Oatmeal makes my stomach ache, Jay.” You say whilst mid-chew.

“I know it does, and I'm not just talking about oatmeal.” His tone is laced with so much endearment that you almost left your toast to cook an omelette instead. “You could have eggs and bacon, pancakes, or hell, even an everything bagel.”

“That sounds like toast with extra steps.”

Chuckling, he shakes his head, chucking off his boots as it thumps on the floor. “When you get here I'm making you a breakfast spread.”

“Says the man who only eats cereal in the morning.” You say in a sing-song lilt as you finish your breakfast. Or according to Jason, a half-assed breakfast.

“You don't want me to cook for you?” Brows furrowing, phone tucked in between his shoulder and cheek, he yanks off his jacket, tossing it next to him.

“Of course I want that.” You say softly, almost a whine as your mind concocts a sweet scene where he brings you breakfast in bed. “You'll even make me waffles with cinnamon?”

“Anything you want, sweetheart.” A smile appears on his tired face, hand brushing along the silver bracelet you've sent him. “Make a list of all the food you want so when you get here I'll make it all.”

“Even if it's like… shepherd's pie or pizza?” Your heart feels full, even just the notion of him talking about wanting to cook for you fills you with glee.

“Sounds like a challenge. I'll fucking make it all from scratch.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Even if you have to bring it to your dad's place?” Jason can practically hear how you bite your lip shyly from your question.

“Babe.”

“What?” You ask innocently as you enter the bathroom, voice bouncing off the tiles.

“I know what you're doing.” Standing up with a groan, he heads towards his bed, immediately flopping down on it from the fatigue clinging to his bones.

“What exactly am I doing?” You place the phone near the sink, propping it up with a facial wash bottle and putting the call on speaker. The whole thing is familiar to the both of you, something so mundane and yet so special.

“Get dressed, you'll be late.” His cheek is pressed on the pillow, one eye open as the screen illuminates his face.

“C’mon, Jay! Please? If I turn on my camera right now—”

“Don't tempt me.” That makes him sit up by his elbows though.

“Why, because you can't resist?” He knows you're wiggling your brows right now even if he can't see you.

“No, because you'll be late.” It takes for his iron clad restraint from saying yes to you.

“Please?” You open your camera and bat your lashes. “Oh nice temple, babe.” Teasing, you remind him of the time when he accidentally opened his camera for the first time and you only saw his temple during the whole call because you were too shy to tell him.

He pulls the phone back to see you, but before opening his camera he makes sure that the domino mask is off. “You really want to meet them?”

Seeing you in all of your glory under the white fluorescent lights of your bathroom has his muscles relaxing almost immediately. The thought of you wanting to see his family has his chest feeling warm. He finds that you have that effect on him.

“Only if you want me to. I won't push it anymore if you tell me otherwise.” Gazing at an obviously tired Jason makes you want to jump on a plane and cuddle him until he feels better. Or at least make him feel like the world isn't weighing him down.

“So you were just being a little shit?” Twisting around, Jason lays comfortably on his pillow, smiling whilst you put toothpaste on your toothbrush as if he's really there with you. Standing beside you and rubbing away the crusts in your eyes.

You blow raspberries, head tilting with a chuckle. “Always. I like to keep you on your toes.”

Sighing, a palm placed on his forehead, he looks into your eyes and wishes that you were beside him, hogging the blanket. “I'll…think about it.”

“Okay, that's good.” Your beaming smile lightens up his whole demeanor even further. “Should I pack a fancy dress—?”

Rolling his eyes, he can't ignore the call of sleepiness as he sinks further into the mattress. “You'll be late, I'll see you in a week.”

“Look for someone in red.” You wink.

—

At the airport, he looks for someone in red. Sure enough, you sport a red dress that hugs you in all the right places. But his crushing embrace feels much more comfortable as he greets you with the best hug you've ever felt. Greet is an understatement, Jason almost tackled you to the ground when he first saw you coming out of the gate looking like his dream come true. He even accidentally ripped his welcome banner that he refuses to admit took him hours to do. “It has glitters,” he proudly said with a puff of his chest as he held you against him.

All the awkward tension you thought you would have with him was gone the minute he wrapped his arms around you. The two of you fell perfectly together like puzzle pieces.

“Hi, Jaybird.” Leaning away, you cup his face affectionately, thumbs running along his freshly shaven jaw. “You're way hotter in person.”

His head lolls back in laughter, arms wrapped around you with a gentle squeeze. “I knew you'd say that.”

“And your ego's bigger too.” You poke his chest, and it feels like you're poking a brick wall.

“You’re not too bad yourself— my eyes are up here, babe.” With a hand on your chin, he takes your attention away from his well toned chest that you most certainly can see through his plain black shirt. Maybe he should've worn white just for this occasion.

“Hmm?” Your gaze lingers for a second too long before looking up at him.

“Hmm,” he hums teasingly. “I was saying that the screen doesn't do you any justice. You're gorgeous, fucking beautiful.”

You giggle as he peppers your face with quick kisses. “Any more adjectives?”

Leaning away, Jason cups your face in his warm hand, happiness radiating off him in waves. “Maybe more after we get home.”

Home, that makes your stomach do a cartwheel and your heart leaping in place. “Please don't tell me you scraped off the popcorn ceiling, it gives the place character.”

He sucks in his teeth, wincing as he carries your bag effortlessly for you with enough space to hold your hand. “Should've said that before, babe.”

“Aw, that's fine, your books are enough to make the place homey.” Nuzzling his bicep, you still can't believe that you finally get to hold him, even moreso, to stay with him and kiss him just like how you imagined.

“That and the pot roast I made for you.” Jason's gaze upon you is saccharine, probably sweeter than the apple pie he made that's waiting for you.

“You didn't!” Your giddy voice rings around the airport as he guides you outside and towards home.

—

When Jason first said his father is well off, you expected a mcmansion with six bedrooms with its own bathroom, and roman pillars where it shouldn't be, not a literal manor that's the size of your hometown's mall. After he told you that his adopted father is Bruce Wayne, you thought he was joking at first. Even before you stepped off that plane you still thought that he was fucking with you. Now that you're staring at the proof, you should've anticipated seeing all of these, but you know that nothing could've prepared you once you're right in front of it.

He notices the look on your face as he pulls the car around the roundabout where a gorgeous gothic fountain lies in the middle of it.

“You look worried,” parking, he clicks his seatbelt off to twist in his seat and hold your hand. “I did tell you about my family right?”

“Uh huh.” Nodding, dumbfounded by the sheer size of the façade, you feel like you've shrunk down and you're looking up at your childhood dollhouse. “It's fucking huge.” You say with a sigh, face practically smushed against the car window as you roam your eyes at every tiny detail of the manor.

“I’ve heard that before.” He chortles, chuckling even more when you pinch his side playfully. “What?”

“You better not say stuff like that once we're inside.” Despite your words, you beam at him.

“Or what, hm?” Leaning closer until his breath fans your cheeks, and his cologne wafts against your nose, a breath staggers in your throat. “What are you gonna do, sweetheart?”

When he expects for you to fluster, you take on the challenge to prove him wrong. Your hand meets his collar, pulling him to you, his lips meeting your own. For a moment, the car fills with the sounds of lips smacking together as his hands roam and grip your waist, effectively wrinkling your dress.

When you pull away, he hasn't had enough. Clicking off your seatbelt to free you and hold you closer, he chases your cherry coated lips and kisses you fervently and ignoring the way your lipstick transfers to him.

Jason feels like he can kiss you forever but alas, you needed air. Once he reluctantly pulls away for your benefit, you inhale deeply, irises blown out, lips a mess with gloss sticking to places where it shouldn't be.

Your guffaw sends his heart aflutter as much as the kiss did. “Oh that is not your color, Jaybird!”

“It's not? Well I'm hurt, babe, I thought I'd match with you.” He says in between bouts of laughter, thumb cleaning up the edges of your lips.

“Hold on, you'll stain your fingers, I have a handkerchief.” Giggles subsiding, you take it out from your purse then you gently dab it on his lips, wiping away the residue of the kiss. “There, you don't look like a clown anymore.”

“Speak for yourself.” Smiling, he takes the cloth from you and does the same around your lips. He wipes away with precision, concentration evident on his face, the tip of his tongue poking in between his slightly pinkish lips. You smile through it all. “There, now everyone won't know.”

“That we've sinned? Good thing I wore a dress with a high collar.”

He dramatically winces. “You better not say stuff like that once we're inside.” Intertwining his fingers around your own, bringing it up to his lips, eyes never leaving yours, he places a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “Did that help with your nerves?”

“A little bit, yeah.” Sighing with a smile, you kiss the inside of his wrist. “Do I look okay? Maybe I should change, or maybe the wine we brought isn't enough—”

“You look more than okay, you look fucking amazing.” He says affectionately. “And the wine we got is enough, it's Alfred's favourite so you're already good in his book. You don't have to worry, especially with them liking you.”

Tilting your head, you rest your chin atop the intertwined hands. “Yeah, well I still want them to like me. It's Bruce fucking Wayne, just sitting in his driveway is nerve wracking enough. And your siblings… you made them sound like they're the best because they are and I just don't want them to hate the girl their brother is dating.”

“Bruce is just Bruce. The playboy rich guy isn't his thing when he's home. To us he's just some nerd who occasionally leaves his bedroom to show face at a board meeting.” He'll one day tell you about the detective and vigilante side of the oldest Wayne and the rest of his family while you're still reeling from the truth of his late night ‘job’. But for now, he just worries about you having a good time and not running away screaming before dinner starts. “And my siblings, they're like any other sibling, fucking insufferable.” He says the last word fondly. “You'll be okay, and they'll like you, if they don't, well they're not allowed at our place anymore.”

“Strip them off their access to your fridge? How cruel of you.”

“That's what they get. And you're not some girl I'm dating, you make it sound like you're the girl of the week I'm bringing to dinner just to annoy Bruce when you're in fact my girl.”

Your eyes sparkle as the sunset coats the horizon in warm orange and pink. “I better not be the girl of the week, Jason Todd.”

“With that dress on?” A low whistle echoes around the car. His eyes unabashedly roaming around your form, making you hide your giddy face behind the enclosed hands. “You’re the girl of the year, babe, and I predict that it'll be like that next year then the next and then the next—”

Your cheeks turn warm, and you couldn't help but cup his face tenderly in your hands. “Okay I get it, you romantic.” With a gentle press of your lips on his, eyes closed, smiling through it all before leaning away to see the lopsided smile on his handsome face. “I'm ready, let's go in.”

“Let's hope they're ready for you.” A kiss upon your forehead does the trick to make you feel braver.

—

Hand in hand, you and Jason walk up the steps towards the intricate door. Even the door is a work of art with its detailed art deco carvings. It even has one of those golden antique door knockers with a face on it.

Your hand is about to reach for it just as the door opens to your surprise. An older gentleman greets the two of you. He offers you a small smile, eyes sparkling when he meets Jason's emerald ones.

“Master Todd, this must be her.” He says in a posh British accent as you giggle nervously. “I've heard a lot about you, Miss.”

“You’re Alfred!” Recognition flickers on your face while Jason watches the interactions through smiling eyes. You grab his gloved hand, shaking it excitedly. “I've heard a lot about you too. All good things, don't worry.” You look at Jason affectionately, letting go of the smiling butler before you loop your arm around his own as he mirrors your soft expression. “Jason always has good things to say to his family.”

A slight shock appears on the older man's face. “Really?” Jason subtly shakes his head at him.

“Yeah, it's great to finally meet you—!” Something whizzes near your face, wind fluttering your lashes just before you could register Jason's hand in front of your flabbergasted face.

“Damian!” An unfamiliar voice echoes through the hallway, running footsteps getting closer to you. “Oh thank fuck you got it, Jason.”

“Master Tim, we have told you not to launch your drones inside the house.” Alfred says calmly, hands placed behind his back as he stands up straight. A direct contrast to how Jason looks with his silent fuming.

Jason is none too pleased when a small drone almost cuts your whole face with its whirring blades. The device squeaks out as Jason's grip tightens around it.

“You alright?” His expression softens when he turns to look at you.

“Yeah,” you exhale, chuckling shakily, palm patting his bicep. “I'm good, nice catch.”

“Shit, is that her?” The dark haired teenager raises his brow at you as a boyish grin spreads across his face. “Y’know, we thought you were imaginary for a second.”

“Nope, as real as I can be. You're Tim, right?” You say before winching when Jason crushes the drone in his grip as sparks fly out briefly. You're concerned about his hand for a second then you see his nonchalant face, he's seemingly unbothered about it, as if he crushes drones in his bare hands as a hobby. “Sorry about your toy.”

“I'm not.” Jason says gruffly as tiny plastic shards sprinkle down his hands then to the floor.

“Yeah…I'm Tim.” The poor kid watches the pieces fall near your feet. “And it's fine, it's not like it's a new prototype that I've been working on for weeks now.” Frowning, eyes narrowed at his brother, he looks like he wants to scoop it out from the carpet. One look at Jason and he folds, “sorry about almost hitting you. It was Damian's fault anyway.”

“Sure, blame the kid.” Another raven haired stranger walks in, this time, his arms are open, greeting you with a hug and a big grin which makes you embrace him back. You gotta hand it to him, he gives good hugs, probably a close second to Jason. “And here I thought you'd be some fifty year old dude living in his parent's basement that's catfishing my brother.”

You chuckle at his comment as he holds you at arm's length. He has one of those smiles that could make anyone trust him wholeheartedly, Jason has warned you about him. “You must be Richard! It's great to meet you.”

“That sounds too specific, Dick, did that happen to you?” Jason pinches the back of his brother's hand, prompting him to let you go with the roll of his blue eyes.

He scoffs, hands resting on his hips. “No. Actually, people use my pictures to catfish other people. The more you know.” Chuckling, scratching his jaw, he turns his attention back to you, smiling back. “So, wine!” Taking the bottle from your hand, he whistles lowly. “An ‘88? You know your way into my heart already.”

“How charming.” A dark haired boy suddenly appears from nowhere, and you almost jump from his abrupt appearance. There's an obvious remote control peeking from his trouser pocket, tucking it in further when you notice it. With a stretched hand, he gestures for you to shake it like some well mannered business man. “Damian Wayne.”

You take his hand, making sure that your grip is just right as if you're walking into an interview. “It's nice to meet you.”

“We thought you were a mere figment of Todd's imagination.” Damian grimaces when Tim throws his arm over the boy's shoulder, nudging him teasingly to add to his annoyance.

“Yeah, thank you for proving us wrong. We owe Alfred and Barbara some money.” Grinning, Tim pulls his little brother away just as Jason knits his brows together.

“You made a bet on—?!”

Dick clasps Jason's shoulder, shaking him in place as he looks over an irked Jason to address you. “Sorry about Barbara not being here, she has a thing—” Pulling Jason back, his expression says that he was about to lunge at his brothers. It has you grinning even more at their sibling interaction. “—at the station. And about my brothers, we got them on clearance.”

“It's alright.” Even with Richard's hold, it's your touch that has Jason calming down. His hand slides upon your back, rubbing circles and pushing you closer against him. “I'll get to meet her eventually.” Chuckling at his joke, you relax even more from Jason simply holding you, and feel less awkward by the first meeting as the minutes tick by.

“Will you be staying long in Gotham, Miss?” Alfred asks.

“Yes, or else Jason will huff and puff about it.” You say with affection, head laying against his bicep for a moment as he grips onto your waist with his warm palm.

“I don't huff and puff.”

“You do have the makings of the big bad wolf, Todd.” Even Tim snorts at Damian's joke. They look over to you and Jason whilst their blue eyes subtly crinkle at the corners from the sight.

Jason cracks a smile at the pair. “Yeah, sure. What's for dinner? We almost brought some lasagna today but we were too…” his green eyes sparkles mischievously as he glances briefly at you. “...busy.” Your eyes warn him.

“Dinner?” Dick blinks at the word as if it's in a different language before his brilliant blues widen at the realisation. “That's today?! I thought you two were just dressed like that to make us all feel bad!”

“You forgot?!” Jason winces, “I told you about it a week ago!”

“I was busy, okay!”

“There's supposed to be a dinner? Oh, I need to fire up the oven.” Alfred's face blanches, palm placed atop his forehead.

“Why didn't you tell us, Dick?!” Tim adds, smiling with mischief. You guess he doesn't truly care about the miscommunication, but he adds fuel to the fire just to watch it burn. “I would've called Barbs!”

“It's fine! We can just order something—” you try to placate Jason and Alfred at the same time. “It's really okay!”

“I could've made a roast.” Alfred blinks at his feet. “I am so sorry, miss. I will whip up something really quickly. Ordering out on this occasion is inadequate.”

“It's really alright, we can just have leftovers, right, Jason?” You turn towards the two arguing brothers.

“I told you to mark it on your calendar!”

“You should've reminded me!”

“I did!”

“Maybe you should've done it again!”

Meanwhile, Damian sits down on the foyer, watching it all unfold.

Calculated footsteps echo in the hallway, but you're too busy trying to tell everyone that it's alright for you to notice the new person in the room.

“Father.” Damian smiles as a large hand clasps his shoulder. “Richard forgot to tell everyone about dinner with Jason's lover.”

“Lover?” Jason makes a face at the word, pausing mid poke at Richard's chest. “You make it sound like we're having an affair, Dami.”

With one look from the man himself, you almost ducked behind Jason. Instead, you raise your head high, hand stretched to greet Bruce Wayne. No pressure at all.

“Mr. Wayne,” you inhale as he takes your hand. It's not his mere stature that's intimidating, it's his whole presence. It's as if your fight or flight response kicks in. You just chalk it up to nerves from meeting him. As you give him the most polite smile you could make, you exhale when he releases your hand. “It's nice to meet you, sir?” You fumble at the last second.

“Sounds like a question.” His brow raises, eyes flicking towards Jason, who sidles next to you.

You gulp down, stuttering with every word. “It's not a question— I'm sure, very sure, absolutely sure—”

“Stop playing, Bruce.” A familiar hand slides behind you as Jason stares back at him. “Y/N, Bruce, Bruce, Y/N.” Formally introducing the two of you, Jason's touch atop the small of your back helps with your stuttering self.

A smile etches on the older Wayne's face. “I was just teasing, Jason. It's great to meet you, and here I thought that he'd be a hopeless romantic forever. Just call me Bruce.”

His words calm your nerves down a smidge. “Bruce,” you test the name on your tongue, albeit unsure at first, but when he smiles even more, you genuinely beam back. “You look a lot taller than on TV.”

The man chuckles, your heart swells when you made the Bruce Wayne laugh. “We’ll help Alfred with dinner, Y/N, make yourself at home.”

“Oh thank you, that's nice but I want to help. Can't let you all have the fun.” You smile at Jason sweetly, a look that the whole family doesn't miss, especially when Jason gives you the same rare saccharine look.

“You'll make your signature toast?”

“Maybe in the form of garlic bread this time.”

Whilst the family leads you towards the kitchen, your hand never left Jason's, holding onto him with excitement and anticipation for the dinner ahead. If this is how they reacted to you, you wonder how they would be when you both tell them that you're moving in with him.