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#Jason catch these hands Todd
dragonpyre · 6 months
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Dick: Jason, what the hell? I thought you said kids were off limits!
Jason: yeah, for drugs
Jason: never said anything about beating their ass
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ifyoucandaniel · 5 months
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exactly one person asked and i’ve been DYING to make this, so here are all of my favorite long batman fanfics in general and for new readers @twisted-tales-told :)
cards on the table by @wesslan ! 69k, completed. this is one of my all time favorite fanfictions, it’s so funny and tim is a mastermind genius and a little liar <3 he basically pretends to be a fortune teller and gives scarily good predictions and advice by stalking the upper class and eventually gets involved with the batfam and has to maintain his lies while dealing with his issues :) 10/10, very found family, good angst, so much lying
Dark Matter by @mysterycyclone , 221k, ongoing. this is a batman fanfic rec, of course my bbg dark matter is going to be here <3 this is a MCUxDCU crossover where after infinity war (spoilers for that if you haven’t seen it!) peter parker gets sent to the DCU dimension with part of the soul stone and basically is haunted by the ghosts of the avengers while trying to survive in gotham and get back to his dimension. this is so well written i’ve read it at least three times, it’s still ongoing but trust me it is SO GOOD. i can’t properly describe it, but if you like spider-man and you are interested in batman, you’ll love.
Red is the Color of Sinners by @bluelotuswrites , series, 120k, ongoing, M. i want you to look me in my eyes when i tell you this is my favorite series on ao3. it is set after under the red hood and daredevil 3 where jason and matt meet in a church after jason loses his ability to speak following the events of UTRH. they keep running into each other both as matt and daredevil and eventually jason begins helping matt out with injuries and tech. it’s not finished yet, but there is something so compelling about their dynamic in this series as well as jason’s overall character and how he is portrayed. i’m a sucker for mute jason after UTRH and this series does so well giving him a fresh start and a place away from gotham to heal and build relationships. i cannot recommend enough.
buy back the secrets by @vinelark , 71k, ongoing, T. THIS!!! oh my god, so this is a timkon fic where kon still doesn’t know tim’s civilian identity, but whenever he’s in trouble tim calls for superboy which leads to them meeting without kon knowing. shenanigans ensure when kon starts spending more time with tim! it’s still ongoing but the author is currently working on the next part and it is so so worth the wait. chapter 4 ends on a cliffhanger though so be warned :))
Sales People Know (listening is the most important part) by Mayhem10, 77k, completed, T. this has the coolest urban magical realism ever. tim basically runs this magic shop that shows up places and people who need something find it in his shop :) it’s kinda a slow burn found family fic with magic themes and a smidge of angst!
Retrograde Motion by Lysical, 112k, completed, T. this is best de-aged kid fic ever. jason gets turned into a 7 year old and basically the outlaws, artemis and biz, join forces with the batfam to take care of him. but trust me when i say this is worth your time, it might sound tropey but in the best way possible!! and jason’s relationship with artemis is sooo important to me in this!
Hand in Unloveable Hand (a chokehold) by britishparty, 54k, completed, M. this is one of the best psychological torture/grooming fics i’ve ever read. pretty much what if while our taking photos of batman and robin, little tim gets kidnapped and black mask gets his hands on him and decides he’s the perfect size for a protege. years of psychological abuse and insane mind games ensue. also tim is a Badass™️
If He Had Come by bronwe_iris, 45k, completed, T. so i’m a little freak and i love the angst of arkham knight jason, but more specifically the aus where bruce saves jason before he becomes the arkham knight! this is an au where bruce finds jason and saves him from the joker after 9 months of torture and brings him home. focuses on his healing mentally and physically and rebuilding his relationship with his family
Banshee in a Well by liverobinreaction (bugbee), 43k, completed, T. veeeery good angst. basically what if tim couldn’t die? 43k of tim drake whump where he just dies a bajillion times and eventually his family notices <3
The Birds: Hatching a Family by Oceanera12, 81k, completed, T. this is like “what if the batkids weren’t adopted by bruce, but instead they were all foster siblings who can’t seem to stay out of gotham at night and batman happens to find them and decides obviously he can’t leave these kids to their own business, he has to stick his nose in it” and there’s some angst and heaps of found family
The Hellblazer’s Apprentice by @bluelotuswrites, 29k, ongoing, M. what can i say, im a simple woman, i love to see jason with literally any older male mentor :) basically in UTRH what if he took up an apprenticeship under constantine to learn magic to piss off batman! so good, i really love constantine so seeing him and jason interact in a long fic is so good. also ALL BLADES JASON TODD SAVE ME… ALL BLADES JASON TODD-
something in the static by bonerot19, 101k, ongoing series with three main completed works, T. this is a jason centric series where jason still lives in crime alley with his mom and dad and never stole the batmobile tires. it follows his life in crime alley with an addict mom and an abusive dad and one night when his dad is whaling on him nightwing finds him and the bats just can’t seem to leave him alone after that. steph is his neighbor and best friend also and their relationship is so good. this is a “what if jason took a different way home to the wayne’s” fic series and i love it so much <3
catch the asteroids that come your way by ThePackWantsTheD, 54k, completed, T. i don’t read a lot of ships in the batman fandom i’m sorry, but this kyle/jason one is sooo lovely. basically the two of them growing up together and falling in love and then dealing with the aftermath of A Death in the Family and finding each other again :) really sweet and nice!
hope you find something you like! i realized the majority of these are tim or jason centric, and i love them all dearly, but if anyone has any recs for long fics focusing on any of the other batkids lmk! and any other recs in general, i am a fiend for new fics
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timdrakeismypatronus · 10 months
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I'm bitter so let's fight:
The correct answer is "all of the above" but I'm forcing everyone to choose.
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bruciemilf · 2 years
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The Batkids when Bruce petted Shazam on the head and offered to adopt him:
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himejoshiangels · 6 months
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THIS IS NOT NORMAL WHY DO YOU PEOPLE DO THIS???
On a post actually ABOUT duke you just make up random ass nonsense to back up why everyone else is cooler than duke actually. why is this so fucking normal for yall. do you see how you guys sound. What is the absolutely insane obsession with "one upping" duke being "unhinged" or "chaotic" or whatever bcs that's how yall value characters for some reason. Atp I give up. if I screenshotted every time I've seen some idiot do this nonsense my fucking phone storage would be full
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spillthebea · 8 months
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the more i learn about the batfamily lore the more i think bruce shouldn't get custody of his children.
1) child soldiers
bro, they should be in school getting an education AND SLEEPING 8H AND NOT JUMPING ON ROOFS AND GETTING IN FRONT OF GUNS
2) dick's replacement
in no time at all and not even getting a warning or being asked about his opinion if bruce could use THE NAME DICK'S PARENTS GAVE TO HIM TO PERFORM AND THE COSTUME HIS MUM PREPARED TO HIM THAT WAS HIS LAST GIFT BEFORE THEIR DEATH to the new child soldier Batman adopted
3) jason's death not being avenged
jason was right to go in a murdering spree; id do the same if my father didnt avenge me after being beaten the shit out of me with a crowbar and then made explode. how much can the excuse of no killing be stretched until you are just harming more people by not killing the f joker? AND NOT AVENGING YOUR SON?! im sorry, it is NOT me who calls myself "vengeance", is it? VENGEANCE WHAT IF YOU DONT EVEN KILL THE KILLER OF YOUR F SON?! i would give guns to jason myself after hearing what had happened
4) tim drake being a child moral compass for a f 30-ish adult WHO SHOULD KNOW TO HAVE HIS SHIT TOGETHER!
it shouldnt have been a child's job be out in the night and stopping a f flaccid furry ass from beating the shit out of low criminals (AND HE DOESNT KILL THE ACTUAL KILLER?! batman, youre a f joke) BRUCE, GET A THERAPIST YOU HAVE THE MONEY SO NO EXCUSES FOR YOU FLACCID ASS
for steph i dont know a lot so i cannt say mine except if i understood well SHE HAD TO PROVE SHE WAS NOT HER FATHER'S CHILD MORE AND MORE
and all of them died in some kind of way (i think only jason's death remains canon canon)
if something is wrong sorry but im learning throughs fics and posts so idk what is the canon lore but if it's what i got, I HAVE BEEF WITH BATMAN
and sorry for the long random post
p.s. AND WHERE THE F WAS ALFRED IN ALL OF THIS?! ALFRED SHOULD LEARN TO USE HIS F SLIPPER OR COOKING WOODEN SPOON! DISCIPLINE YOUR CHILD, ALFRED!
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spectorgram · 1 month
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FAN BEHAVIOR
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characters: dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake summary: batboys with a celebrity! reader content/warnings: fem! reader, fluff
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DICK GRAYSON
You’re an actress who has had a meteoric rise, moving from doing small, one-off parts in TV shows to becoming a breakout star on a particularly popular series to being cast in major movie productions
Your stardom is still a little surreal to you and when you’re invited to a wayne enterprise charity gala, you contemplate not going — what business do you have being somewhere with people far more famous than you? But when you tell your agent this, she gives you a look that says you’re insane for even considering declining
You’ll forever be grateful that she urged you to do so because that’s where you meet Dick
He’s standing with Bruce Wayne, chatting with some frequent donors, dressed in a perfectly-tailored navy blue suit when he sees you out of the corner of his eye and he lights up. He approaches you first with that megawatt smile and introduces himself with an extended hand and says, “I’m a huge fan! I’ve been watching your stuff since you were in Legends of the Kingdom!” And the rest is history
Dick goes to every red carpet event you invite him to and he makes it a point to attend every private premiere screening and public opening night
He definitely shushes anyone who talks during your movies or TV shows and does not care if people think he’s obnoxious.
You’re definitely the ‘it couple’ and your faces are plastered constantly on magazine covers and two-page spreads
There are people who try to sow discord in your relationship and their go-to is either pointing out how different you are to Dick’s former girlfriends; that you’re not his type, that this isn’t going to last, etc., or that you’re not talented enough for the fame you have or to be dating Dick Grayson
It definitely gets to you and does nothing to whatever lingering imposter syndrome you harbor but Dick is such a grounding force, reminding you that it’s all just noise and that he loves you completely and unconditionally
At home, he likes to rewind your scenes in shows and movies, and it flatters you as much as it flusters you
He also likes to read through scripts with you when he can and his voices for the various other characters bring you to tears from laughter 
So many intentional and unintentional thirst trap couples pics. Like, a selfie you post one morning — Dick is shirtless and you’re in one of his old t-shirts and its sliding down your shoulder and showing your collarbone and you’re both laying on your stomachs in your shared bed, hair sleep (and sex) tousled with the morning sun making both of you look like you’re golden and glowing 
JASON TODD
You meet Jason as Red Hood first when you’re running from the paparazzi but you don’t know it’s him
They chase you down a couple of blocks before someone tugs you into an alleyway and you’re about to scream for help when you see who it is. Red Hood shields you as the paparazzi pass and when you ask him why he helped you, he simply says, “I hate the paps and you looked like you needed a hand.”
Once he’s sure the coast is clear, he walks you back to your hotel using the back alleys of Gotham. You make several attempts to strike a conversation up with him in the first few minutes of your walk but what seems to catch his interest is when you start rambling on about just finishing Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment. 
You’re disappointed when you arrive at your hotel and you’re rush inside to find a pad to scribble your number on but he’s gone when you return, disappearing into the night
It’s by chance that you meet him again (unbeknownst to you), this time in his civilian identity as Jason Todd. You’re in disguise at a bookstore in Gotham when you bump into him and spill his iced coffee all over both of you, apologizing profusely and offering to buy him another drink, which he accepts. (His voice is oddly familiar to you but you can’t put your finger on why) 
You two keep in touch and start dating privately. The long-distance is difficult at times given your very different and busy schedules and Jason is pretty cagey about what he does but you both make time for each other as much as possible
He tells you that he listens to your music during his workouts and in the background while he’s doing stuff around his apartment. He hums along too.
He recommends your songs to anyone who listens, which raises suspicions in the Batfam, and it obviously doesn’t take long for them to figure out that he’s dating you but he makes them promise to keep it to themselves. 
Whenever you have a concert in Gotham, which you make a point to do frequently, Jason is in the VIP box, bobbing his head and mouthing along to your songs. When it ends, he’s right there backstage with flowers and a thermos of tea for your throat
Your relationship goes public when fans capture of video of you two leaving one of your concerts together, Jason’s leather jacket draped over your shoulders
You eventually move to Gotham to be closer to him and the two of you spend every free moment either of you have together, making up for lost time. 
You still try to keep your relationship as private as possible but fans eat up any crumbs they get, including the occasional selfie of you both 
He is your biggest inspiration for songs and also your biggest help. You love bouncing ideas off of him and he likes sitting with you when you pick at your guitar strings and mumble a half-formed melody
(You eventually do find out that he’s Red Hood when he tumbles through the window of your bedroom, bleeding profusely, and you have to take his helmet off to assess the damage)
TIM DRAKE
You’ve known Tim since you were kids given that your parents ran in the same social circles
You started out as a child model in department store clothing catalogs. Tim did some shoots with you too but while his parents eventually stopped auditioning him for such jobs, you continued until the present day, and you’re now a well-known supermodel 
You two have been friends forever and the internet laps up your interactions together. There are compilations of videos and photos of the two of you at banquets and red carpet events and memes with text like “when will someone look at me like that?”
Before you two even started dating, there were articles about a supposed romance and sexual tension between you two. In interviews, you would vehemently deny anything asked about it and reiterate that you two are just good friends
At some point, however, you start seeing your childhood friend in a different light. He’s kind, brilliant, funny, attentive, and very handsome. It’s not that you didn’t know that before but it’s different now. You find yourself shying away his casual touches and suddenly conscious of your actions around him — did you laugh too loud? Is your hair in your face? Does he know how you feel? Can he tell?
You don’t want to ruin your friendship, as cliche as it sounds, so you did your best to keep your feelings under wraps, which resulted in you distancing yourself. When Tim would text to congratulate you on your latest Vogue cover or runway show, you would simply shoot a simple ‘thanks!’ text back instead of the usual ‘THANK U’ followed by five heart emojis. 
He confronts you about it one day and you’ve never really been a good liar in front of him so you tell him, bracing for a gentle rejection but instead receiving a kiss. 
You made a hard launch post with him on Instagram and received hundreds of DMs of people saying they were vindicated in believing that “friends don’t look at each other like that”
Tim is in the front row at every single runway show you have, dressed impeccably in an expensive suit. He takes pictures of you and visits you backstage with your favorite sweet treat.
After fashion shows and other events, you return to his apartment to let your hair down and put your feet up. You do your skincare routines together, sheet face mask and all, and snuggle on the couch for some TV or just to hang out and talk endlessly
You’re very active on social media with him and you two have a lot of couples posts together. When you both have time, you do Instagram lives where people watch you two make dinner together or answer some questions from viewers. A fan favorite is when you choose outfits for each other.
During a runway, you blow a kiss at Tim in the audience and the camera zooms in on his face, where he just watches you with a lovestruck expression and bright red ears — it’s in almost every video compilation that’s titled something like ‘15 minutes of Tim Drake being a simp’
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pedrasacorn · 2 months
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Friends don’t do what we do
Jason Todd x fem!reader
Warnings: none
Authors note: this is my first time ever doing something like this, I’m not a writer by conventional means but I could not leave you all hanging after blowing up my blurb
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
“That’s a nice jacket.” Your greedy gaze takes in the leather comfortably draping his body.
He eyes you carefully, “Thanks.”
“You got candy in there?” You grin up at him.
“Sweetheart, ask for what you really want.” You hate the way he’s able to coax you into yourself, grounding you with the idea that he’s not like eveyone else. He doesn’t flinch at your forwardness.
“Can I…explore your pockets a bit..?”
You aren’t snoopy by nature (yes you are) , but the desire to more about him drew you into asking this absurd question.
He leans closer to you on the couch, offering his pocket. He carefully takes in the details of your face. You’d wilt under anyone else’s scrutiny, but his attention lacks judgment.
Tentatively you reach in.
He feels your hand digging around. This is the only way he can stomach letting you touch him, between a layer of thick fabric…it feels nice.
“Massive pockets. You carry your bike in here?”
Your heart leaps at the way his laugh softens his voice, “Yeah sweets sometimes I put ‘er in there.”
Your hand wraps around cool metal, heavy in your palm as you lift it into the light of the room.
A pocket knife.
“Oh.” Your eyes gleam dangerously, “You stab someone with this before?” You pop open the blade, checking for blood, before he gently confiscates it, clicking it closed.
“A stab from this’d be a paper cut.” He lifts it away from your reaching hands.
“Then what do you have it for?” He gives you a wry smile, “Has no one taught you anything about—” he pulls his hand away as you reach for it, “—survival?”
“Mmm…not really, no.” You quip. Whether or not it’s sarcasm, he mentally adds to the list of things he needs to teach you.
You reach in again, pulling out a folded piece of paper, you carefully un-crumple it, glancing up at him briefly, waiting to see if he stops you. He only holds your gaze. “Nothing juicy huh?” Your eyes scan a grocery list.
Oh Ho Ho. “Pomegranates?”
“They’re in season…” he murmurs as you read on.
“You put C4 on your grocery list?”
His brows scrunch confusedly, your gasp interrupts his rebuttal, “Chloroform?!” He rips the paper out of your hands, and double checks the list. Bread, chips, peanut butter, mozzarella, eggs, etc.
He sighs, “You don’t buy chloroform at the grocery store, you make it.”
“How?” He gives you a disapproving look, you return it with a grin of your own as you reach in again.
“Shiny…” The three bullets are weighty, all smooth, and cold in your palm.
You let him confiscate those, reveling in his gentleness, and the contrast of his warm, rough fingers. His nearly somber expression catches you off guard, like a cold breeze through a sweater meant to keep you warm. The bullets are a heavier weight, in his hand.
“You’re worse than a crow.” He mutters.
You reach in again, “…my hair tie.”
“Mh.” His noncommittal answer soothes your poorly concealed nerves. What needn’t be said, or brought to the light; whatever this was between you.
He confiscates yet another item from your palm, pulling it on his wrist. “This is mine too.”
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corkinavoid · 1 month
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DPxDC When You Are Suddenly Dating a Princess
This prompt is a variation of good!GIW AU (read here), but that's an excuse because I just wanted badass Jasmine Fenton and her good boy Jason Todd.
"Jason?"
The voice catches him off-guard. Not because he doesn't know it, no, quite on the opposite - he knows that voice very well, he's just heard it this morning when his beautiful girlfriend kissed him on the cheek and left for work.
It's just that he didn't expect to hear it at a closed auction full of magic artifacts, two states away from Gotham, and in a room full of rich-ass people from all around the world.
He turns around.
Jazz is looking at him with an expression of pleasant surprise, black off-shoulder silk dress with teal accents draping her figure all the way down to the floor - it's kind of reminiscent of Greek togas, with high waist and lots of folds on the skirt. It also makes his girlfriend look even taller than she is, which, Jason is fairly certain, was intentional.
She is also wearing a necklace on her neck, and just by one look at it, Jason knows that it costs at least five times more than the apartment they live in.
"Jazz?" He breathes out, astonished, but then catches himself and puts on a smile, "You look stunning." This is not the time to argue or ask questions; he is on a mission. And it's a time sensitive one, so no matter how curious he is, it can wait till later. They do live together, after all.
"Thank you," the girl smiles, and then briefly turns her head to a tall man in a very expensive dark blue suit standing beside her, "If you excuse me," she nods with an apologetic smile in the corner of her lips, and the man smiles back and takes a step away. Meanwhile, Jazz approaches Jason and casually places a hand on his elbow.
"Mind telling me what are you doing here?" She questions, and, wait, that was supposed to be his line! Jason blinks and shakes his head, snapping out of his stupor.
He can't exactly say, 'Constantine asked Batman for a favor because he knows the man is rich as fuck, so now Jason has to either buy or steal an ancient dagger for some bullshit magic ritual because he was the only one free tonight and John really needs that dagger and that ritual and Bruce owes him a favor, unfortunately'. Jazz doesn't know he is a vigilante/crime lord in redemption. She might suspect he is - that girl is perceptive on par with mind readers - but Jason never straightforwardly told her, and she never brought it up herself.
So, instead, he goes, "Sightseeing."
Jazz raises one eyebrow and pointedly looks around the dimly lit room full of magic users, rich collectors, socialites, and other shady individuals. Jason keeps smiling. Eventually, the redhead sighs and looks away, taking a step forward and guiding him through the auction at a leisurely pace.
"Looking for anything in particular?" She tries again, and Jason debates if he should answer her. On one hand, his head is buzzing with thousands of questions, starting with 'how did you even make it here when your shift at Arkham ended two hours ago' and finishing with 'to which group of shady individuals do you belong'. On the other hand, she clearly does belong here if her confident posture and outfit are taken into account.
And she is his girlfriend. Has been one for two years now. Maybe it's time to share some secrets.
"An obsidian knife with an owl on the handle," he finally says, and Jazz hums.
"A Tecpatl?" She clarifies, and Jason doesn't even feel that surprised by her sudden knowledge of Aztec culture. He nods. Jazz gives him a thoughtful glance, "And how important is it for you to have it?"
"To the point where I'm prepared to steal it if I have to," he laughs, but judging by the look on Jazz's face, she gets that he is only half-joking. She narrows her eyes at him:
"Is it for you, or for your, um, friends on the orbit?" She asks, briefly glancing up to the ceiling, and Jason feels very confused for a second there.
But then it hits him: she is talking about the Watchtower. She is implying the League.
Jason doesn't hold back a quiet curse, "Damn it, I should have hidden the guns better, shouldn't I?"
Jazz laughs softly, but it's a warm, affectionate laugh, "Well, yes, but you also shouldn't leave bloody bandages in the bathroom. And your helmet on the kitchen counter," she tells him, amusement lacing her voice, and Jason rubs his face with his free hand.
"Fuck," he mutters. And then, "Sorry."
Jazz waves her hand it the air, brushing his apology off, "Don't worry. I'm not in a place to blame you for having secrets, am I?" She muses, and, okay, fair. But before Jason can try to make her elaborate on the topic, she returns to her previous question, "So is it for a friend?"
The knife, right. Jason makes an annoyed face, scrunching his nose.
"Yeah. Bruce owes someone a favor, but he couldn't make it. Other stuff came up," he huffs. 'Other stuff' in question includes some off-world mission, so he really couldn't make it, but that doesn't make Jason any less mad about it.
"Let me guess, that 'someone' smells of cigarettes and liquor, has a British accent, and wears a trench coat," Jazz deadpans, and Jason stares at her with wide eyes.
"How- Are you sure you're not secretly a mind reader?" He asks. He knows for sure that Jazz doesn't have a meta-gene, but maybe she is a magic user? That would explain why and how she is even at the auction. Yet, the redhead laughs.
"No, sorry. Just met him a few times," she winces like she can smell the phantom smell of tobacco even when the mage is not here, "Can't say I like him, but asking someone to fetch him a Tecpatl seems like his style."
That only makes Jason even more inclined to believe his girlfriend is actually a magic user. But he doesn't get to ask because Jazz suddenly looks him in the face.
"Consider yourself in luck, by the way," she grins, "You won't have to steal it."
[part 2 ->]
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solarplanet2 · 23 days
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Little Eldritch Creature part 2
DCxDP Prompt/Drabbles
Chirp! Chirp!
Bruce expected many things when Oracle suddenly told him in comms that Jason's tracker went to the cave.
He expected something might have happened to Jason since Oracle had told him that his comms were gone, cut off.
He did not expect a little glowing creature chirping, almost in concern, around Jason.
"Get it off me!"
"Todd! I won't tolerate you hurting the little creature!"
"Why is it so cute?"
"What is that thing? It's not a fish right?"
"A worm maybe?"
"Ugh....bright.."
Little. Cute.
The said creature was small, with a green tail for legs, white hair that floats and blue skin, from closer inspection, he looked like he was wearing a long sleeve black shirt with white cuffs. Their ears were slightly pointed but still visible.
And also big wide green eyes that reminds Bruce of puppy dog eyes.
Bruce should be really freaking out right now. An unknown entity is in the Batcave and it seems to like Jason and charmed his family.
Which usually is not a good sign.
Bruce cleared his throat, gaining everyone's attention, that includes the little creature.
"Jason." Bruce says slowly, it made the said man grimace. "Where did you find...him?" Bruce took a moment to look at the creature who was clinging on the side of Jason's helmet, looking at Bruce as if he was listening. When Bruce hesitantly said the pronoun as if acknowledging the little creature, the said creature nodded.
Well, He understands him. One question out of his list.
Jason clicked his tongue. "I found him where Oracle reported about the disturbance in the satellite. That's when my comms started to loose cignal. I saw something glowing by the dumpster and when I took a look...I found him."
The little creature chirped in cue, as if he knew Jason was referring to him.
"And then he went in and smack into my face." Judging by Jason's tone, it wasn't good experience.
"And he just what? Stuck with you?" Tim asked suspiciously.
"I tried getting him off but he won't--!!" Jason did try. He tried grabbing the little creature off him but Jason's hand went through him or even letting go from Jason's helmet and floated around him as Jason tried to catch him. Then went back to holding on to Jason's helmet on the side.
"See!? Get him off! I have other things to do!"
The little creature chirped as if he was amused.
Bruce sighed. He should call Constantine even if he doesn't want to, this is clearly magic stuff.
Bruce takes off his cowl and grabs his com. "Let me call Zatanna about this."
"Uhm....B?"
Bruce blinked at the green eyes staring right back at him. The little creature suddenly let go of Jason and floated towards Bruce. The Small thing was staring at him before tilting his head, from Bruce's observation, it seems like he was confused, debating.
"Dad?"
Bruce blinked.
What?
: )
Part 1
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gilverrwrites · 3 months
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Touch-starved Jason Todd
Nobody asked but I did it anyway, GN!Reader, ≈400 words CWs: mild angst? non specific hurt/comfort but primarily fluff.
Despite his imposing stature, his proclivity for destruction, Jason sure can be quiet when he wants to be. Like a phantom in the night. You don’t know how long he’s been there. Don’t know when he climbed through your window and sat himself central on your couch, but you do know that looking at him right now makes your chest feel heavy, makes you long to alleviate whatever strain is weighing on him. His hair and shoulders hang low, his skin unusually pale and sallow but for the dark circles below his eyes.
He’s an immovable object, so you become the unstoppable force, splaying your fingers through his hair, gently brushing his scalp as you press yourself against him until his head fits snuggly against your sternum. Bar the subtle tension beneath his skin, he doesn’t respond and that makes you feel worse.
“Is this okay?” You should have asked sooner.
“More than okay.” You should have done this sooner.
He melts into you, muscles easing, upper body growing slack until you’re supporting the bulk of his upper body weight against your stomach. Gloved hands shake as they ghost across your legs, then, swiftly as though you might dissipate if he doesn’t act fast enough, he locks his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer still. Your bodies work in tandem, you open your legs, allowing him to slot his own between them, and he nuzzles his face deeper into the space between your ribs. Your hands gingerly slip downwards, one to cup the nape of his neck, the other to rub soothing circles between his shoulder blades.
“I can’t…” His already hoarse voice catches for a moment. You’re careful not to react, intentionally continuing your movements so as not to discourage him. “I can’t remember the last time I did this with… well anyone.”
“It’s okay.” You keep your voice even, unpatronising. “Take what you need.”
Without warning he shifts position, bringing you down, seating you on his lap so that you’re face to face. Your gentle grip on his back never wavers, nor do the concentric strokes of your fingertips.
“It’s not too much?” He asks, and you shake your head.
“Never.” There’s a smile on his lips then, he tries to hide it in the soft spot where your shoulder meets your collar, but you catch it before he can conceal himself in your comfort and you take a selfish moment to revel in the pride of lifting his spirits, if even for a moment before continuing; determined to reassure him, to emphasise that he will always be safe in your arms you repeat: “You will never be too much Jason.”
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mayumiiyuu · 4 months
Note
Hear me out
Jason todd seeing you wearing nothing but one of his shirts, just barely large enough to cover your ass
I can't write, but I need closure to this little idea that has been floating in my brain, also heard you wanted asks so...
oh my god oh my god oh my god………(i love the way u think)
18+ Content, Minors DNI
warnings: dom! jason, teasing jason (are we rlly surprised), sub!fem!reader, slight belly bulge if u squint, size difference mentioned. (please inform me if i need to add more, thank you!)
the morning after
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sunlight filters gently through the window of your apartment’s kitchen, bathing everything it touched in a golden glow, your eyes catching in the light, the rays dripping off your form like warm honey. you hum a soft, dulcet melody as you lean your hip against the edge of the kitchen counter, the whirring sound of the coffee maker the only thing that disturbs the peaceful atmosphere.
just as you stand on your tiptoes to reach for the mugs in one of the taller cabinets, the material of your boyfriend’s shirt riding up your backside, you feel Jason’s hand on your hip, pulling you away as he takes it upon himself to grab them, his sheer size practically dwarfing you as he leans over, a smirk on his lips.
“Let me get that for you, doll.” he drawls as you turn around, his hands now placed on either side of you, resting against the counter, caging you in, and you can’t help the way your thighs clench as you look up at him, mind racing with thoughts of how he had you in a similar position just last night, relentlessly pounding into your throbbing cunt.
Jason couldn’t stop looking at you, how could he? the fluid movements you make as you walk around the kitchen, pulling out ingredients for today’s breakfast, the way your hair swayed with each movement. you were so sweet, he thinks to himself, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he continues to watch you, only for his softened gaze to intensify with a passionate fire as he catches sight of the lacy pair of red panties barely covering your ass—then he remembers how sweet you truly were, the soft whines that would slip past your lips, the low and breathy moans as your chest heaved up and down while he sucked and lapped up your sopping cunt.
could you really blame him when you had such a perfect body? mewling and writhing against him, reacting to his touches so perfectly, his good, sweet girl, taking him so well? and good god, the way that shirt draped over you, only reaching a little past your hips, rising just by a fraction to show off the round, soft flesh of your ass that once bore his marks, pink hand prints from his rough, calloused grip, and hickeys from when he ate you out from behind—just you wearing that shirt, seeing it ride up to show off the marks he’d left last night, it was your fault for teasing him, for wearing his shirt. why would you ever want to hide that body of yours from him anyway when he could worship you so well?
so really, you should’ve known better. now you were bent over the kitchen counter you once were making coffee on, back arched like a cat’s as you felt him draw a line over your weeping slit, your cunt pulsating with a heat only he could draw out from you.
“Please, Jay,” you whine, bucking your ass against him, hoping for some sort of relief as you rub your slicked pussy against his own angry tip, leaking with pre-cum. “Need you—need you so bad.”
“Yeah?” he whispers, leaning over you, his hand pressed up against your throat to press your back to his broad chest. “Y’need me that bad, princess? Need me to stretch out that tight pussy, have you make a mess all over my cock?”
there’s a teasing edge to his words as he swipes at your hole, already dripping with your slickness, pushing his tip in just to give you a little taste of the stretch—as if his words weren’t enough to make you whine and beg—but pulling out just as quickly, the cocky bastard. he loved seeing you like this, so desperate for him.
“Please, Jason—“ your voice comes out strained from desperation as you attempt to wiggle your ass closer to him, your cunt nearer to his hard, thick cock, only to let out a frustrated mewl as Jason holds your hips steady in place. “Need you—need your cock, wanna have you fuck me full, fill me up with your cum, please.”
“‘S that so?” Jason grins, wolfish and wicked as he continues to tease you, running his fat tip along the length of your cunt, purposefully bumping your clit with each stroke. “Such a filthy mouth on you, doll. Makes me wanna stuff my cock in it, see how dirty it can really get.” he chuckles, licking his canines in lustful amusement as he feels your opening clench around his tip at his words.
“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Y’like being all dirty f’me, don’t ya, doll?” his voice comes out in a low, gravelly rumble as her murmurs in your ear.
“Mhmm..” you nod, bottom lip tucked between your teeth, thighs already trembling in anticipation. “Jus’ wanna be good f’you, Jay.”
“That’s right,” he croons, chest welling up with pride at your submission, his gaze softening ever so slightly as he sees the look of adoration in your eyes swirled with desire for him. he lays kisses down your shoulder blades, landing a tender open-mouthed kiss against your nape—a reminder that even through the fiery hot intensity of the passion between the two of you, at the root of it all was a deep and profound love. “So good f’me, so perfect…’gonna take such good care of you, doll.” he murmurs, lining up his tip against your slit, pushing his aching cock into your drenched pussy. the tease that he is, he makes sure to draw out the moment, dragging his thick shaft against the walls of your cunt, eliciting a loud moan from your lips.
the sight of your cunt stretching out around his girth makes a low groan of pleasure slip from his lips as he sheathes himself fully into you. you drag your nails feebly against the marbled countertop, a muffled whine coming out of your mouth as you feel his fat cock fill you up—god, you could never get used to the sting, how good it felt knowing that he was the only one who could ever fill you up this good. your eyes roll to the back of your skull in pleasure as his hand comes to press against your womb, making sure you felt the small bump against the pit of your stomach all due to his massive cock.
“Feel that, doll? Pussy’s all full of me—fuck, s’fucking tight—like it was made f’me, hm?” he lets out a breath, hot and heavy against the back of your neck, a low hiss emanating from his lips; he could never stop the way his cock twitched as he felt your cunt flutter around him, the warmth of your sweet pussy against his throbbing cock made his head murky with lust.
“Pussy’s all yours, Jay—h-hah, s’all for you!” you moan, feeling each vein and the curve of his cock against your spongy walls, his tip prodding and brushing against that spot that always made you see stars.
“That’s my girl,” he purrs, his hand still around your throat, the other one holding your hip in place as he pulls his hips back before slamming his cock inside of you, beginning his quick pace. he’d been holding back before, but the way your cunt clenched around him makes any and all self-control slip from his being as he begins to fuck into you.
“Be a good girl and take my cock, yeah?” Jason whispers in your ear, his voice thick with lust as the lewd sounds of your sloppy cunt come into contact with his cock, his pelvis slamming against the meat of your ass.
it was going to be a while before the two of you have breakfast—all because of that damned shirt and Jason’s undeniable hunger for you. fuck breakfast, he had you, and that’s all he ever needed.
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fic-over-cannon · 2 months
Text
Jason Todd stops carrying a lighter because you’ve always got one on you. He’d reached into pocket once but his hands had been too numb from the cold to get the spark to catch. You’d given him your mittens with a huff and taken the lighter from his trembling hands. The warm glow of the lighter had lit up your face, snow drifting thick in the air around you. As he’d taken the first drag of his cigarette, you’d grinned and slipped the lighter back into your own pocket. Jason doesn’t ever get that lighter returned to him. Instead, it takes up residence in your pockets and purses.
He calls you a little firebug when he realizes he’s never getting his lighter back, but really you just like having the excuse to get close. Jason could replace his lost lighter easily if he’d cared to, it’d been some cheap thing bought at a bodega during patrol. But he likes the excuse to get close.
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chikaras-garden · 11 months
Text
Batboys as things that go bump in the night
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So what if he’s not human?
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Pairings: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne x fem!reader
Contains: Monsterfucking. Dubcon. Unprotected piv sex in Dick’s, Jason’s, and Damian’s. Blood in Bruce’s. Somnophilia and light breeding kink in Dick’s. Knotting in Jason’s. Oral sex (f!receiving) in Tim’s. Degradation in Damian’s.
Notes: 18+ or you’ll be blocked. Happy Halloweekend angels!
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BRUCE WAYNE 🦇
A loner. A constant shadow over Gotham. A collector of all things macabre. And now, he has his sights set on you. You’re a pretty thing, dressed in all black at a late-autumn gala, and you can feel the intensity of his gaze on you even when your back is turned.
So it’s no surprise that, when you tempt fate by rounding a corner into a deserted hallway, you are not alone.
Stepping out of the shadows, Bruce’s hand clamps around one side of your throat, leaving just one side—the side of your pulse—exposed for his lips. He kisses you there far more than he kisses your lips, nibbling and suckling the soft flesh over your pulse. Your heart beats faster and faster as your knees go weak, but his arm tightens around you.
“I have you, darling,” he husks. His skin is cold against yours, but perhaps that’s because the all-consuming presence of a man like this makes your blood run hot.
His other hand comes up to cup your flushed cheek, thumb dragging along the shape of your face as if he’s trying to memorize you.
“So warm. Such soft skin,” he murmurs, bending his head low and kissing your neck. “Such a beautiful creature.”
Something twists in your stomach when he says that—creature. An instinct tells you to run, but you quickly realize that the look in his eyes has you completely enthralled. He’s watching you with purpose, always keeping your eyes locked as if looking away from you will break the spell he has you under.
“I have to taste you,” he whispers, voice raw with a strain whose source you cannot place. He inhales deeply and lets out a low, feral noise before you feel a twinned shock of pain that makes you gasp: blood rushes to your neck and spills from your broken skin onto his waiting tongue, which greedily laps at the sweet nectar he just stole.
DICK GRAYSON 🦇
You never remember what happened the morning after your nights with your blue-eyed visitor in black, but you can’t stop the way your body aches for the mysterious stranger. At first, you thought he was a dream, but even you know that your unconscious can’t conjure up something as beautiful as him.
He wakes you by laying on top of you, pushing his hot-as-Hell flesh against yours. You didn’t go to sleep naked, but you’re naked now; your clothes are gone, but you’re covered with him, his mouth latched onto one of your nipples, one of his hands painfully squeezing the other, and his red-tipped cock already bullying its way into your slick folds. 
It hurts, but the ache is so dizzying that you can’t bring yourself to care, especially when you’re aware that you won’t remember this by morning anyway. You feel as if you’re being burned alive and made new in just the way he wants you. And that feels good, doesn’t it? Why else would you have woken up with your pussy soaking wet? 
He picks his head up just enough to watch you watch him while his tongue traces the outer edge of your areola and flicks your nipple in slow strokes, teasing it into hardness with just the tip of his tongue. He’s kneeling between your legs, and his free hand slides down to gently stroke your belly—which is when you notice that his fingers, like his cock, are tipped with blood-red skin.
Then comes his dark murmur, “Let me fill you, pretty thing. Let me give you a little gift to help you remember me.”
Your breath catches and, once again, he latches on—teeth first, this time.
At the same time, he thrusts into you, cock heavy and fire-hot, searing your skin and all but tearing you open while you keen and grasp at him, fingernails scraping down his back. His warmth is inescapable as he thrusts into you with inhuman force.
And you swear that, when he comes, filling you with his infernal seed, you catch a glimpse of a ruby glimmer in his once-blue eyes.
JASON TODD 🦇
Honestly, you handled finding out that your boyfriend is a werewolf remarkably well. But because you’re a human, he has one rule: no knotting. That is, until an October full moon has him more feral than usual, trapped in a rut that he’s powerless to fight against.
Jason has you hiked up against his chest, barely balanced on his thick thighs with your panties shoved aside. One finger is pressed firmly against your clit, the claws that come with his half-transformed state lightly grazing your sensitive skin. He’s already buried inside of you, thrusting so shallowly that he may as well be humping your innermost walls.
“Oh, fuck,” he groans, dropping his head onto your shoulder. His skin rages with heat while his muscles tremble, lips mouthing along any inch of your skin that he can reach. Head heavy on your shoulder, he rasps out broken sentences, each cut off by animalistic whimpers and whines. “God, fuck— I can’t— I shouldn’t— You’re—”
You have one hand tangled in his hair, thumbing the soft black-and-white fur that crawls up along his hybrid ears. His cock, impossibly thick already, stretches you even more open than you already were, and you throw your head back to let out a moan of mixed pleasure-pain.
“Fuck,” he whispers, because he feels it too. “Baby, I’m— It’s—”
“Let it,” you gasp, feeling lightheaded with the pain of Jason filling you so completely, cockhead swelling so full that he couldn’t pull out even if he wanted to. “Please, please, Jason, I need it.”
All that gets you is another guttural groan from him, a sound as close to a howl as he can make without being fully transformed. Still swelling, his cock is thick, heavy, hot—pulsing inside of you, begging to stay there, to fill you, to mark and mate with you. You can’t imagine what it must look like, but you know that the feeling is divine: this oneness, this wholeness, is something you’ve never felt before. It’s almost enough to dull how much your pussy aches.
“Jason,” you moan, tears filling your eyes.
“I know,” he soothes, trying to stay sturdy and stable for you even though his whole body is trembling. “Fuck, it— Baby, you feel so good. Such a good fucking girl, letting me mate with you. Gonna make you feel amazing, I promise.”
TIM DRAKE 🦇
“Stay still,” Tim teases, clawed fingers clamping down on your hip. “Or no rewards.”
Your back is pressed against the chilly, damp wall of the bat cave, and your clothes are shreds around your feet. You know this is all your fault, that you should have avoided the man who has only made his obsession with you painfully clear. As soon as the half-dragon spotted you—his treasure, his paramour, his little human love—he pounced. 
Half changed with pewter green scales climbing up his skin and pupils narrowed into reptilian slits, Tim wastes no time in turning your clothes into ribbons of fabric in effort to get to you.
And then he drops to his knees, burying his face in between your legs.
The forked tongue laves up and down the folds of your pussy, skirting along the outside of your sopping hole until you’re shuddering, clinging to him. His hand digs in harder, talons piercing the soft skin of your ass, scaly palm forcing your cunt against his mouth until you feel the sting of sharpened teeth against your mound.
Even though his teeth sting your pulsing flesh, even though his licks are too fast to be completely pleasurable, you feel yourself grow slick around his tongue. Your head falls back against the wall and you begin to pant, heart beating so fast that you start to feel faint, teetering on the edge of consciousness.
His forked tongue reaches impossibly deep within you. The fleshy muscle feels wrong but also so good, skin fading from soft pink to greenish-black, its texture rough and bumpy, stimulating you from more directions than you have ever felt at once. 
He licks all the way to your cervix—a thing no mere mortal man could ever do to you—greedily biting, sucking, and growling against your throbbing, abused pussy until finally you come with a pitiful, worn-out scream.
You feel his ice-cold lips pull into a smile as he breathes, “Good human. Now give me another—or three more. Maybe five.”
DAMIAN WAYNE 🦇
You go to the guardian of an ancient library for help but, poor you, the sphinx’s riddles prove too challenging for you. In accordance with the legends, you expect to be smited on the spot, or at least banished, but instead—the sphinx shifts to his human form and decides that you are his.
How lucky it is that Damian decides he likes you enough to keep you captive instead of simply killing you as punishment. How lucky it is that he is clever enough to find a use for your frail human form. How lucky it is that he doesn’t find mating with you as repulsive as he originally thought.
“At least work for it,” he drawls, stifling a yawn while he leans back on the emerald-green settee. His arms are spread, powerful shoulders and biceps making him look even bigger than he already is. No, he never touches you—that would be demeaning—but he does offer you the privilege of riding his cock until you make yourself come.
You close your eyes and drive your hips forward and down, trying to strike the spot inside you that only he can reach. No sooner than your eyes flutter closed, though, he snaps his fingers in front of you.
“Look at me, pet.” His head rests on the back of the chair, lips parted with every breath that makes his chest slowly rise and fall. His face looks warm and you wonder what it might feel like to kiss those plush lips—but you’re also coherent enough to realize that he’s measuring his breaths on purpose.
You’re getting to him. You think. You hope. Maybe if you please him, he’ll let you go. 
He shifts his hips up and you cry out, nearly losing your balance on his powerful thighs, but a warm hand suddenly cups your ass to drag you back into place. He leans forward, stomach flexing, and murmurs in your ear, “Can’t even do this without help, can you? Useless little human.”
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angelfic · 5 months
Text
— IT’S SO SWEET
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pairing: jason todd x best friend!reader
summary: the 3 times jason takes care of you and the 1 time he lets you do the same. alternatively, jason thinks he's invincible, but his best friend needs to be protected at all costs.
warnings: unedited. again. pls don't kill me. swearing, kissing, mentions of blood/weapons/injuries, mentions of periods, reader is a nursing student, best friends to lovers!!! <3
author’s note: *shoves it at you* another one of these fics with the same format, this time with jason :) listen to 'sweet' by cigarettes after sex while reading this btw. and let me know what you think!! drop an ask or a message, don’t be shy!💌
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1. when finals are going to kill you.
Sometimes you think being a vigilante like your best friend is worth the constant risk of dying if it means you never have to open another textbook again. When you voice this to Jason, he scowls like you've just threatened to kill a kitten in front of him.
"That's not funny. Don't even joke about that," he scolds, still frowning at you from the opposite end of your kitchen island. His Red Hood suit is sprawled out in front of him as he stitches up a loose hem, compliments of the last goon he most likely beat to a pulp. You make a face at the fact that his sleeve is covering your anatomy notes, ignoring the way he leans down in attempt to catch your eye. He resorts to snapping his fingers in your face. "Hey. Hey, I'm serious."
"Jason," you sigh, setting down your pen and resting your chin on your hand as you talk to him. "I'm studying for nursing school finals in my kitchen, because I didn't want to walk the five more steps it takes to get to my bedroom after making instant ramen. Do you really need me to tell you I'm not being serious about becoming a vigilante?"
His shoulders relax very slightly, but his expression stays annoyed. "You're going to give me an entire head of grey hair before I'm even thirty."
"Well, at least we know it'll suit you," you say through a yawn as you point to the white streak running through his hair. "So, if anything, you're welcome."
He gives you another withering glare, going back to his stitching. The tiny needle in his large hand distracts you for a minute until you realise that Jason has stopped sewing and you're actually staring into nothing now. He notices your eyes that have glossed over and immediately reaches over to slam your textbook shut, startling you back to attention. It isn't until he does this that you feel the exhaustion seeping into your bones, emphasised by the knot in your neck and the cramp in your writing hand.
Jason drags your textbook away from you, along with your notes. You take a second to appreciate how careful he is not to crease the pages, knowing you'd lose your mind. "Okay, you're done for today."
"Huh?" you mumble stupidly, his words registering in your mind too late and you realise he's just hijacked your study material. "Wh- Hey! Give it back, Jay, I have-"
"Finals, I know. Last I checked, you need to be alive to take finals and I don't see that happening unless you take a nap," he says, voice a little too calm for someone who you're about to pounce on and claw at until you get your textbook back. You sluggishly clamber off your stool and step in front of Jason, who immediately raises his arm to hold your textbook out of reach.
You look up at him and attempt an intimidating glare. "Hand over the textbook, Todd."
Jason raises his eyebrows, huffing out an exasperated laugh. "Lift one of your arms to get the book and its yours."
Your finger doesn't so much as twitch, but you sway a little until you reluctantly accept that maybe he's won this one. And maybe a nap does sound pretty good right now, you think with a groan, dropping your head so it rests on Jason's chest. Your arms hang floppily at your sides. "I'll kick your ass after my nap," you mumble into his shirt.
"I'm terrified," he deadpans, and you hear the thud of the textbook on the counter before his large hands come up to grip your waist so he can walk you backwards to your couch, knowing you well enough to anticipate your grumbles if he were to attempt to take you all the way to your bedroom. You smile into his chest.
"You've met your match, Red," you say as dramatically as you can for someone who's practically the equivalent to a sack of potatoes against Jason right now. When you feel the back of your legs hit the couch, you grip onto the bottom of Jason's shirt and tug at the fabric before he can let you go. "You're my human pillow, where do you think you're going?"
Before he can answer, you nudge him onto the couch and he obediently lies down so you can nestle in next to him and plop your head back onto his warm, muscled chest. You blame your exhaustion for your shameless behaviour.
Despite the tiredness, you can't help irritating Jason just a little bit more. "Hey, Jay. What would my vigilante name be?"
"Shut up," he says without any bite, resting his chin on top of your head. You snicker into his shirt, half delirious with fatigue but awake enough to feel his face moving as he smiles when he thinks you're not looking.
"Something cool. Like Nightwing," you mutter sleepily, poking the bear.
"What? Nightwing is not as cool as-" Jason starts incredulously, but cuts himself off. "Whatever. Go to sleep."
You hum, eyelids feeling heavy and you start drifting off, the last thing you register being Jason's fingertip tracing circles on your back.
When you wake up, Jason and his suit are gone, but you have a blanket tucked around you and a box of your favourite cookies on the coffee table.
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2. when, apparently, you aren't immune to the streets of gotham.
Considering you live in the most corrupt city in the world, you probably should be a little more cautious about going out at night. It's not like you don't take precautions, though. Like every woman in Gotham, you're loaded with pepper spray every time you leave the house. Unlike every woman in Gotham, you also have multiple vigilantes in your phone with whom you share your location with.
Even then, you aren't stupid enough to step into any alleyways. You wish that were enough to stay out of trouble, but as soon as you realise the streets have completely emptied while you've been distracted with your thoughts, you start panicking a little.
You're fine, you reassure yourself as you slide your phone out your pocket to pull up your recent texts. You keep your screen open just for some reassurance, gripping the sides of your phone tightly when you hear some distant footsteps.
It's only ten more minutes to the convenience store, so you're more irritated than scared when you hear the footsteps quicken behind you, catching up. Your fingers fumble to text an SOS to Jason, but you accidentally tap send on your chat with Dick instead. With slightly shaky hands, you try and send one to Jason as well, hoping it's gone through when your phone is suddenly knocked out of your hand.
"Oh, for the love of-" you hiss, when you hear the cracking noise of your screen against the pavement and you don't risk reaching down to grab it. Instead, you turn around slowly to face a dark figure, clad in a cliche, all-black outfit and stood in a threatening stance. God, you hate Gotham.
"Hand over your-"
"Wallet, money, most prized possession," you cut the man off, probably very stupidly. "I know the drill, hang on."
He falters for a moment before anger clouds his expression and he pulls out a knife before you can get your wallet out. You try not to sigh in relief. For anyone else that might sound crazy, but knives you could manage. Being best friends with Jason Todd means of course you've been made to learn self-defence. Disarming someone with knives was doable enough to learn as a nursing student. Guns, on the other hand, are out of your league.
The fact that you know how to defend yourself doesn't make the knife look any less threatening and sharp, though.
"Hey, look, I'm not gonna be difficult," you say, dropping your voice to a low murmur as though you're trying to coax a cat out of a tree. "I'll give you my money."
"Yeah. Yeah, you do that," he rushes out, sounding confused. You kind of feel bad for him. Most people confronted with a mugger would probably be a lot more scared than you're acting and it's clearly throwing him off his game. You almost regret bothering to send your SOS and as you're thinking about how you're going to apologise to Dick for wasting his time, you go to grab your wallet to try and stall before the mugger becomes violent. "Stop! Put your hands up. I'll grab it myself."
You furrow your brows, about to argue that no, he fucking won't. But you see that the man's face suddenly becomes ten times paler than before and he's looking behind you instead. Your shoulders sag with relief as you spin around to see Nightwing in all his black and blue glory.
"Is there a problem, ma'am?" he lowers his voice an octave and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. He seems to be focusing hard on acting like strangers, because anyone with eyes would see the problem very clearly in the form of a man wielding a knife.
"Please, help me," you respond, drily. Dick raises a brow at your flippant attitude, so you clear your throat, kicking it up a notch. You glance at the man behind you and try to look more terrified than you feel. "Please help me, Mr Nightwing. This guy's got a knife, and he's going to stab me with it."
The man frantically shakes his head, dropping the knife immediately and backing up. "I wasn't! I swear, man, I was just trying to scare her. Look, I'll just-"
"Hey." You hear another familiar voice boom, this time through a modulator. You sigh, lifting your head to see Jason, all the more threatening as Red Hood. His guns are already in either hand by his side and you have to respect the mugger for not passing out where he stands. If you didn't know it was Jason behind that mask, you'd be terrified to death. He tilts his head, evaluating the man. "Where do you think you're going?"
"Nowhere, I-"
"Exactly," Jason's warped voice comes out tight, and you hear the cocking of his gun, making you whip around to send a panicked look to Dick. He runs closer to you and you drop your voice to a whisper.
"I've got Hood, you take care of the guy."
"Don't do anything stupid," he says, not unkindly and the two of you snap into action.
You run back over to the mugger and step in front of him, making Jason falter in his movements and lower his gun. His chest rises and falls with deep breaths like he's exercising real control. "Move."
You stay as still as possible, arms splayed out in an attempt to cover the man behind you, despite the fact that Jason definitely possesses the skill to take him out even with you in the way.
"Put your guns away," you hiss when Dick has successfully restrained the man out of earshot and is dragging him away with ease. Jason steps towards them, but you stay in his way, using both hands against his chest to stop him. It's more of a symbolic gesture than anything, since you know you wouldn't be able to budge him an inch even if you threw yourself at him with full force. He stops anyway, looking down at you with his hands gripping his firearms tightly. "He was practically harmless. Let Nightwing deal with him. Please."
You're talking him down, trying to waste time so Dick can leave before Jason is able to do anything. You know you've succeeded when he tucks away his weapons, albeit reluctantly. Dick is too far away with the man now, anyway.
"What the hell were you doing out at this time?" he says, raising his voice instead of the usual quiet, deadly anger he reserves for the people who deserve it. It's how you know he's worried, when he doesn't try and control his temper. "And without dropping me a text first, so I could check on you? You do understand where you live, right?"
"Don't yell at me!" Your voice cracks in the middle of your sentence and you feel your lower lip tremble slightly. Jason stills. You refuse to cry, cursing your damn hormones and the fact you're a woman and the fact that you're cramping again. You aren't in the mood to talk to Red Hood right now. You want Jason. "And turn off your stupid voice thing!"
He obliges quickly, stepping closer to you. You're angry at one less thing now that his voice is back to normal. "I'm sorry for yelling. Please don't be upset with me, I was just worried-"
"You were going to kill that guy."
"Damn straight," he fires back, defensive again.
You glare at him and he has enough sense not to speak further. Shaking your head, you let out a frustrated groan. "He was a lousy mugger. That hardly deserves a bullet through the head."
"Are you forgetting that he had a knife?" he exclaims, throwing his hands up. Suddenly, as though he's remembering something, Jason folds his arms across his chest. "Why'd you call D- Nightwing for help first?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. How about next time, I'll ask the guy with the a knife if he can hold off for a second while I select the right contact number!" you grit out, hit with another wave of cramps, extremely tired of this conversation. "It was an accident, you idiot. I meant to text you first."
You can't see Jason's expression beneath his Red Hood mask and you aren't going to ask him to remove it in the middle of the streets, but you imagine he's mollified with the way his shoulders relax a bit.
Huffing, you walk away to get your phone, gingerly picking it up to inspect the newly made cracks all over. You vaguely register Jason standing over your shoulder before you shove your phone in your pocket, a problem for tomorrow. You turn around to face him and clutch at your lower stomach, breathing turning shallow.
"I was on my way to the convenience store," you explain, gritting your teeth. "I assume you're coming with me now?"
"Why did you need to go so late?" he questions, typically not letting it go. Instead of responding, you screw your eyes shut and puff out a few pained breaths. He immediately grips your shoulders and begins inspecting you. "What? Are you hurt? What happened, did he get you?"
"I have cramps, you ass," you groan, shoving his hands away. He ceases looking for an injury, and you don't need to ask him to remove his mask to know that he's relieved. "I was going to the store so late because I'm out of my sanitary products."
"Oh," Jason says gruffly, a hint of embarrassment creeping into his voice due to his excessive worry. "Well, I kept a whole box of pads and stuff from the other month in my apartment. It's closer, come on."
You sag with relief, dragging your feet to follow him as the two of you walk to his place. You're in his apartment so often that you're not surprised it's stocked up with period products as well as your usual things for when you stay the night. You feel a funny little flip that has nothing to do with cramps when you consider how he kept everything.
"Do you need me to carry you?" Jason asks, completely serious, snapping you out of your thoughts. "I know how bad the cramps can get."
"I took some meds a couple hours ago, they're not the worst yet," you explain, shaking him off and trying not to think about him offering to carry you all the way to his apartment just because you have cramps.
You reach his complex quickly and he sends you up while he enters through the fire escape from a back alley as not to expose Red Hood's living quarters. By the time you've entered through his door, Jason is already there, judging by his helmet sitting on his kitchen counter.
"Be out in a second," he calls from his bedroom and so you flop down on his couch, face down in one of the cushions as you try to think about something other than the sharp needles stabbing your lower belly. He walks out while you're writhing in pain and sets down some pads, two painkillers and a glass of water on the coffee table. "Here, take them now and go sleep in the bed. There's some snacks in my nightstand if you get hungry. Do you need me to stay home?"
You reluctantly turn over onto your back and see that he's also holding your fluffy panda hot water bottle. You might combust, there and then. Pouting, you reach out for the panda, grabbing it to hold it close to your body and sighing at the slight pain relief. "I'm okay, you can go back to patrol. Thanks for looking after me, Jaybird."
"It's nothing," he shrugs, turning away to hide the pink flush appearing on his cheeks and grabbing his helmet. He shoves it on quickly and you try not to let out an unattractive snort of laughter. He turns on his voice modulator. "Text me if you need anything."
With that, he slips out of his window, making sure to shut it tightly behind him. You stay on the couch after knocking down a couple of painkillers  and try to entertain yourself with some TV while you wait for Jason to come back.
You mournfully scroll through your phone, trying not to cut your fingers on the broken glass. The actual phone seems to be giving up on you as it takes forever to click on one thing to the next. Giving up, you toss it on the table and close your eyes. Making make a mental list in your head of things to do tomorrow, you add buying a new phone to it and prepare to say goodbye to a healthy chunk out of your bank account.
You don't remember dozing off, but your alarm startles you awake and you grab around for it on the nightstand next to you. Turning it off, you decide to brave the world outside the comfy sheets and realise you're in Jason's bed. He must have gotten back late and put you there, you think with a smile, suddenly happier than you were when first waking up. This happy attitude sours a bit when you nick ur finger on the broken glass of your phone screen trying to turn off the rest of your alarms.
Making your way out of his room and following the smell of toaster waffles, you see Jason plating up some breakfast for you. "Morning," you yawn, plopping down on a kitchen stool. "How was patrol?"
"Same old," he says, giving you the usual, non-descriptive answer. For all you know, he could have taken down an entire drug ring single-handedly and you'd be none the wiser. He sets down a plate in front of you, as well as a rectangular box. "Here."
You inspect the box, confused and wanting to focus more on the food before you process what it is and your jaw drops. "Jason Peter Todd. What the hell did you do!"
"Your phone broke," he says, gruffly, clearly trying to downplay the fact that he bought you a brand new smartphone, a later model than the one you already have. "Don't make a big deal out of it."
"Of course I'm going to make a big deal, Jay," you say, frowning. "I was going to get one myself today. Why did you waste your money on me? How much was it?"
"Don't worry about it," he says flippantly, plating up his own waffles. You should have known better than to ask. There's no way he's taking money from you.
You sigh, shoving your waffles and the phone out of the way to make your way over to him. "Jay," you say softly, grabbing his face in your hands. His eyes widen slightly and you fight the urge to smile. "I can't accept it."
"I said it was nothing," he replies, furrowing his brows and you release his face in favour of hugging him instead. "And it's not a waste if it's on you. You're taking the phone."
"It's everything," your voice comes out muffled by his hoodie. The cost of a phone really is nothing to Jason. It wouldn't have made even the slightest dent to his bank account, but that's not the point. "You need to let me take care of you for once. Oh, one more thing."
He hums in question, resting his chin on your head and wrapping his hands around you.
"If you buy anything for me again, I'm cutting a heart shaped hole in your suit."
Jason huffs out a laugh and you feel the vibration through his chest. "What about the coffee I get you after class every Friday?"
You stay silent.
He snorts, knowing he's got you. He drops a kiss on your head and grins when you look up to frown at him. "That's what I thought."
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3. when this guy just won't take a hint.
Jason owes you big time. You've had the longest week of your life and yet here you are, in a floor length, dark red dress and heels, for crying out loud.
Realistically, this is the least you could do for him, showing up to a gala thrown by his father to keep him company. You're more than happy to do this as a favour to him, but that fact doesn't make the heels pinch at your toes any less.
"I haven't worn this dress since high school," you grumble, twisting it around your waist where it fits snugly. You're thankful for the fact that it falls loosely past your waist, or you'd have ripped it from your body by now. "If I eat one thing, it might actually tear."
"I'll give you my jacket when you spot the appetisers," Jason says, absentmindedly. You squeeze his bicep gently in thanks from where your arm is looped in his as he leads you into the venue. "Anyway, we'll be in and out, as always. Just making an appearance for Bruce."
"In and out," you repeat, lowering your voice as the two of you enter a more populated area. You know even though Jason moans about these events, he wouldn't be here if he really didn't want to be. He cares, even though he'd never admit it.
Groups of businessmen, celebrities, entrepreneurs; basically a bunch of rich people who are dressed in clothes that are definitely more expensive than your rent are milling about, every one of them with a drink in their hand. Their unwavering smiles and the constant trips to the bar are nothing new and you wrinkle your nose at the atmosphere of the place. "Do they even know what charity Bruce is throwing this for?"
Jason raises an eyebrow. "Bruce could be throwing this thing for homeless badgers and they'd be none the wiser," he mutters, a hint of bitterness creeping into his voice. Rolling his neck, he takes a deep breath. "I should go say 'hi' to him, while he's talking to a bunch of people. Prove that I actually showed up. You wanna come?" 
You almost agree, not wanting to be left alone, but just before you reluctantly trudge over to a group of Bruce's boring business associates, you thankfully spot Jason's brothers by the bar. "I'll just go hang out with Dick and Tim, is that okay? I can come with though, if you want."
"Nah, go ahead," he says, detangling his arm from yours and giving you a reassuring smile. "Come grab me when they start getting annoying."
"Be nice," you warn, gently shoving him towards the group of men as you make your way to Dick and Tim.
"Hey," Tim greets you with a smile, glancing up quickly before returning to his phone. He does a little double take, eyes snagging on your dress and his smile turns devious. "Well, you look nice. You're wearing a very... nice colour..."
"Tim," you heave a deep sigh. Dick rolls his eyes, but he can't help the corners of his lips quirking up. "You can't keep doing this every time I wear red."
"I'm not doing anything, just making an observation," he shrugs, rocking back and forth on his heels in an attempt to look casual. Tim glances around to see make sure no one is in earshot before lowering his voice. "Hey, totally unrelated, but I heard Jaybird nearly shot a guy for almost mugging you."
"Tim."
"Leave her alone," Dick intervenes before Tim can needle you further. He definitely enjoys it too, but ever the golden boy, he seemingly wants to keep the peace. "How are you doing after that, anyway?"
"Fine," you nod reassuringly. "Thank you, again for showing up, Dick. I really appreciate it."
"Don't be silly, it's-"
"I heard he got you a brand new phone, too," Tim pipes up, cutting his brother off.
"Tim," you groan, thwacking him in the arm with your clutch. He barely flinches. "For the last time, Jason and I are just friends."
Tim opens his mouth to respond, but his eyes dart behind you and he thinks better of it, choosing to just smirk like the troublemaker he is.
"That's good news." You whip around to locate the source of the voice, finding yourself looking at a guy you've never met before. He seems to be around your age, dressed smart and very rich looking. You stand there stupidly.
"For who?" you ask, chuckling nervously.
He shrugs, giving you a charming smile. "Anyone who wants to buy you a drink. May I?"
Understanding dawns on you and you glance at Dick and Tim with wide eyes, feeling a little awkward that they're here for this interaction. Dick keeps his expression carefully neutral as he considers the man, whereas Tim frowns when he meets your eyes, jerking his head as subtly as possible in Jason's direction.
This has you glaring at him and just to prove a point, you plaster on a wide smile of your own and return your attentions to the stranger. "Yes. You may."
The two of you walk closer to the end of the bar and away from the others. You pointedly don't look at them. "What was your name?" you ask the stranger, mostly for the sake of being polite.
"George." A rich guy name, you think to yourself. If Jason were here, you know he'd have a million things to say.
He asks your name and you give it to him as he orders you a drink without actually asking what you want.
"Pretty name," George remarks, handing you a glass of something you've never had before. You pretend to take a sip, smiling in thanks. "So, what's your story?"
You try not to outwardly cringe at the question, sorely regretting tonight's decisions despite the fact you've been here less than half an hour. "I'm just here to keep my friend company." You keep the story short, not bothering to explain how you know the Wayne family.
"Ah, well. I dont blame you for looking so bored. I'm just here because I have to be as well," he mutters, swirling the contents of his glass. "Business connections and such."
"Oh." You find yourself being less and less interested in this conversation. "Do you know what the fundraiser tonight is for?"
"God, no," George laughs, taking a sip of his drink. You try your hardest not to grimace, mentally checked out of the conversation already. "It's always the same shit, anyway. Forget all that. Drink up and we can get out of here."
You nearly choke on your own saliva at his sheer confidence and set down your drink. "I really shouldn't. I'm, uh, I'm okay staying here."
"Aw, come on," he leans in a little closer than you'd like and you try to look as imperceptibly as you can for Dick or Tim, but it seems they've left you to face the consequences of your own actions. Traitors. "You don't look like you're enjoying yourself. What, you don't like me-?"
"Hey." You feel Jason's presence at the same time as hearing his voice. You almost laugh at how relieved you suddenly feel and you and relax into his hold when he places both hands on your waist. Jason drops his voice to a murmur that only you can hear. "Ready to go home?"
You nod, turning to leave. About to bid a quick goodbye to George as not to be rude, you open your mouth but get stopped in your tracks.
"She's fine right here, man," George says, voice as smooth as glass. If the glass is shattered into sharp, pointy spikes that are as uncomfortable as this conversation, that is.
Jason's previously polite smile hardens as his front is now practically plastered against your back. "She can talk for herself."
"She was actually just-"
"She's right here," you interrupt, squirming out of Jason's arms to step back. He drops his hands immediately, but doesn't look at you. Instead, he assesses George through a narrow eyed gaze. You can't decide if George is being brave, or stupid for not cracking under the weight of Jason's intense glare as he stands there, all six foot two of him posing a threatening picture. "Right, well. I'm just going to-"
"Hey, hold on," George says, averting his all-too arrogant gaze back to you and gripping your upper arm, jerking you slightly. You flinch a little when he moves into your personal space. "You aren't going to give me your number?"
His grip doesn't hurt, but it's a world away from gentle and you almost gape at the fact he doesn't seem to be aware of how uninterested you are.
Jason immediately clocks this, stepping forward. "Yeah, I don't fucking think so," he says darkly and then he shoves at George. Hard.
The people nearest to you gasp and titter when they see George careening into the stools at the bar and you slap a hand over your mouth, shocked. Shocked that Jason had actually gotten violent as Jason and not as Red Hood. All over a random creep, no less.
Before George even has the chance to recover from the surprise of Jason's brute force, you pull harshly on Jason's suit jacket, steering him out of the venue and into the hall. He follows you without protest, still breathing heavily.
"What the hell was that?" you hiss, trying to keep your voice quiet, despite being alone out in the entrance hall.
"He grabbed you," Jason says slowly, as if he's confused as to why you're upset. His expression is tight, like he's being careful to control his anger even now that you're away from George. "I would have done a lot fucking worse to him if you hadn't dragged me out of there."
"You cannot go all Red Hood when you're Jason! It's suspicious as hell. Not to mention how you were practically back-hugging me like some sort of reverse bulletproof vest."
"I always do that," Jason says, calmly. The fact that he isn't raising his voice just spurs you on to raise yours higher. The multitude of emotions swirling around in a confused whirl around your stomach makes you nauseous.
"You hate being touchy in public," you say, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. "Last month, you punched Tim in the stomach for putting his arm around your shoulder. Anyway, that's not the point! You're so occupied with trying to take care of everyone that you never consider yourself. Or let anyone else do so. Yeah, that guy was an asshole. But he was just an asshole trying to talk to a single girl. He wasn't some... some crime boss or villain or evil freaking mastermind for you to take down!"
"I don't need looking after. And he didn't know you were single," Jason scoffs, running a hand through his neatly combed hair, mussing it up. If you weren't so irritated, you'd take a moment to appreciate how much you prefer it when he looks like this. Real and raw, like the current expression on his face rather than closed off and emotionless. "You came here on my arm, wearing my colour, like Tim's always fucking going on about. You... you're my..."
"Your what, Jason?" you ask, hysterically. You're almost yelling now, finally ready to snap at Jason's inability to share his thoughts with you. He stays silent, face going blank again, an indication that he's closing himself off to you. Your shoulders sag from exhaustion. "Come talk to me when you can give me an answer. I'm going home, I'll get Dick to give me a ride."
You don't wait for a response as you walk back into the venue. Thankfully, Dick is near the entrance and you don't have to subject yourself to too many stares before he takes you home. You don't glance at Jason on your way out.
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4. when he asks for your help.
You're moping. You don't bother trying to deny it, but you're definitely moping around your apartment since your fight with Jason. You wake early every day and get dressed and study, but your movements are almost robotic in nature.
Dick has tried texting you a few times, but you've decided to just avoid looking at your phone, because it's the one Jason bought and it just makes you feel even worse. You aren't sure if Jason's tried contacting you, but your phone stops going off around the same time as Dick's evening patrol and you don't let yourself dwell on it further.
The two of you have never gone this long without speaking and aside from the pit of unease in your stomach as well as the sadness hanging over you like a dark cloud, you're also just bored. You have acquaintances from your nursing course, but no one close enough to do anything with this late at night.
Oh, well, you think to yourself, Chinese food and Grey's Anatomy for the second night in a row it is.
You take a quick shower, standing under the hot water for longer than necessary to let the time pass. Getting out, you change into your second pyjama set of the day, opting for a hoodie when you feel a chill in your room that wasn't there before.
You go to shut your bedroom window with a frown, not remembering why you opened it. The handle is stiff and you internally curse your landlord for still not fixing it as you finally succeed in shutting the damn thing after a particularly hard tug.
It shouldn't have taken that much energy out of you, but you're panting when you walk out of your bedroom to enter the living room so you can sit in front of the TV and order the takeout that you probably shouldn't be eating.
Before you can even attempt to regulate your breathing, you look up in the direction of your couch to find Jason sitting there in his Red Hood suit and slap a hand over your mouth to smother your shriek.
"Oh my God," you gasp, your free hand flailing out frantically to grasp the door frame in an attempt to steady yourself. The minute it takes for you to catch your breath is enough time to take in the state of the vigilante sitting in the dark of your living room.
You switch the light on and Jason winces at the sudden brightness, but you take the opportunity to give him a thorough once over. His dark hair is disheveled and falling into his eyes from hours of confinement in his helmet and he has a fresh bruise blossoming across his cheekbone.
You hardly ever use the main light, usually opting for a warm-toned lamp instead, so when the main light casts the cuts and scrapes on Jason's body in a harsher light, you want to turn it off even more.
Jason's eyes flutter shut for a second and you immediately rush forward to assess him for any injuries causing major blood loss. "Did you get stabbed?" you ask clinically, your voice void of any emotion. "Are you bleeding under your suit? You need to stay awake-"
"I'm fine," Jason mutters, opening his eyes to peer up at you through tired eyes. "I'm not bleeding or anything. Just wiped out from patrol."
You relax slightly, taking a step back to create some distance between the two of you. "Oh. You snuck through my window to tell me that you're tired?"
"Anyone could have snuck through that damn window," he says, brows furrowing in disapproval. He's been hassling you about the security of your apartment since you can remember and you usually wave him off, but in this moment you bristle.
"You don't get to be annoyed at me right now," you say, crossing your arms and glaring at him through narrowed eyes. "Why are you here, Jason?"
He grimaces at the use of his government name coming from you and takes a deep breath. "I haven't slept."
"So, go home and take a nap," you say, exasperated, letting your hands fall to your side as you're about to turn around and walk back into your room. Before you leave, you hear your Nursing teachers' voices in your head, reprimanding you and you sigh. "And you want to clean those cuts before they get infected."
"Could you do it for me?" Jason asks quietly, barely audible. His jaw clenches with the effort of asking you the question. "Please?"
You blink at him. "But, I- You've never..." you trail off, not knowing what to say. Jason has always refused to let anyone else patch him up after patrol. Hell, he's even learned how to do stitches on himself when you're the one learning how to do them for a living.
"I want... to let you look after me," he whispers, looking at you imploringly like you're going to refuse. Your irritation immediately melts into something else that you don't want to analyse any time soon.
"Oh," you exhale softly, heart twisting unwillingly. You nod slowly, words escaping you again. "Okay."
Jason's head flops back onto the couch cushion and he sighs like all of the tension is leaving his body. His hair covers his eyes, but you don't miss the dark circles under them, contrasting starkly with his skin, pale from exhaustion.
You consider letting him stay there, but you know it'll be easier in the bathroom where you keep all of your first aid supplies and the lighting is better for when you're practicing your techniques. "Come on. Up," you say, gesturing to the bathroom with a jerk of your head and you walk away, allowing him to come in his own time.
While you're digging through your bathroom cabinet for all the supplies you've haphazardly thrown in after using them, Jason slips in and you glance over at him quickly. "Sit down," you mutter, reaching up for the disinfectant. It sits on one of the higher shelves and you have to get on your tiptoes to reach it. Jason instinctively moves to help you but you shoo him away, managing to grasp it yourself. "Sit down."
"Yes, nurse," he huffs out a quiet laugh and you bite back a smile, opting to roll your eyes at him instead. Setting your supplies down behind Jason, you focus your attentions on unzipping his suit. The way his arms are resting limp in his lap tells you that he's not wanting to move anytime soon. You bring the zipper down yourself and pull off each sleeve cautiously, not wanting to rip the suit further where the torn fabric is clinging to the bloody cuts in his skin.
Once the suit is hanging loosely around his waist, you see from the black tank he's wearing that the cuts are localised to his now bare arms from where he's been defensive, whereas the fabric on his chest and abdomen are intact.
Jason's eyes track your face as you assess the extent of his injuries and when you lift your face to look at him, he's unabashed, continuing to look directly into your eyes. Your cheeks warm and you stutter out a sentence "I-I'll be right back, one sec."
You rush out of the bathroom and into your kitchen to pull open the freezer and scramble around for a bag of frozen anything. Settling on a bag of peas that you have no intention of cooking anytime soon, you hurry straight back to the bathroom.
Jason eyes the peas warily and you raise a brow, daring him to challenge you. When he stays silent, you move forward to shove the peas onto his cheek where the bruise is a darker red mark than before. He hisses when the icy bag makes contact with his face, flinching away from it.
"Ouch," he mumbles belatedly, giving you a sheepish smile when your mouth sets in a line. You should probably be gentler with him considering it's the first time he's allowing someone to physically care for him and it's you he's choosing to cross that boundary with. It's not like you want to scare him off so he never asks you again, but you can't help still being annoyed with him after your fight.
You sigh, trying to relax your face into a non-threatening expression. "Sorry. Keep it on your face to stop the swelling."
Jason grasps the bag slowly as you let go, letting his fingers brush over your own. You clear your throat and focus your attentions on the cotton pads, dousing them with disinfectant. Jason looks at you through one open eye, the other obscured by the bag of peas. "You shouldn't be the one apologising," he says, after a beat.
You purse your lips, bringing a cotton pad up to Jason's shoulder. "I know," you say simply before you press the disinfectant into one of the larger cuts, harder than probably necessary. Jason screws his eyes shut and works his jaw, but stays quiet. "Did that hurt?"
Jason shakes his head immediately, letting out a short breath he was holding. "Nope. Felt good actually. Kinda like a cooling effe- Shit," he hisses, tensing his arm. You think that's enough torture for now, instead continuing to gently wipe away the blood and dirt.
"I won't apologise about that one," you say, shrugging. Jason cracks a smile and you find yourself hiding one of your own as you clean off the other, smaller cuts and scrapes that don't need bandaging. "Are you hurt anywhere else? Promise I'll be nicer about it this time."
Jason shakes his head again, so you dispose of the cotton pads and get the band-aids, the only noise in the bathroom being the sound of you rummaging through your supplies. When you spot the choice of band-aids, you grin. "Pick one."
Surveying the two that you hold in your hand, Jason's gaze lingers on the dinosaur patterned band-aid, before flicking his eyes up to yours and raising an eyebrow. He points to the other one. "I'll take the Hello Kitty."
Your grin widens, knowing he's only choosing the pink Hello Kitty band-aid to appease you. You're certainly not going to challenge him about it as you carefully peel off the backing to stick it over his shoulder. Stepping back, you tilt your head to evaluate him and nod. "You look very pretty."
Jason smirks, but the slight blush creeping across the cheek that isn't covered by the frozen peas doesn't fool you. "Pretty enough for you to forgive me for being such an ass?"
"That depends." You take a tentative step towards him, crossing your arms. "Are you going to stop being stupid?"
Jason lowers his arm holding the bag of peas and places it behind him. With both hands, he reaches over to your arms, uncrossing them to bring you forward until you're standing close. He's so impossibly tall in your tiny bathroom that even standing up, you're only eye level with him as he sits on the closed toilet seat.
"I can't promise that I'll never be stupid in front of you again. You kind of have that effect on me," he says, sighing like it's some curse inflicted on him. You thwack his rock-solid arm and he grins. "I can promise I'll let you take care of me from now on, though. And that I'm going to stop lying to you."
"What?" you ask, eyebrows furrowing. You're even more confused when Jason places his hands around your waist to guide you onto his lap, both your legs hanging off one side of him. You raise both eyebrows expectantly, waiting for his answer, but he merely stares at you, smiling. "Jason. When have you lied to- mmph-"
He cuts you off by pressing your lips together in a kiss, one hand still holding yours, intertwining your fingers while the other tilts your chin up so he can kiss you deeper. You're a little slow on the uptake, frozen from shock for a second, but it isn't long until you're kissing him back just as eagerly. You shift in his lap, lifting one of your legs to swing over to his other side until you're straddling him and Jason takes a sharp inhale, sitting up straighter and pulling your body closer to his.
He pulls away for a millisecond, before his lips reattach to your jaw, travelling down to pepper soft kisses down your neck and you let out a noise halfway between a sigh and an embarrassing whimper. Jason groans at the sound, nipping at your neck and you feel like you can't breathe enough air.
He pulls away again to catch his own breath and you take the opportunity to come to your senses and lean back, gently pushing at Jason's chest. You breathe hard, trying to lift your gaze from Jason's swollen lips and he seems to be having a hard time looking away from your own.
"Jason," you say, voice shaky and uneven.
"Mhm?" he hums distractedly, pressing a soft kiss on your jaw before looking at you again.
"You kissed me," you point out, stupidly. "You really, really kissed me."
"I did," Jason murmurs, both hands cupping your face. He swallows, expression going from dazed to nervous before he speaks. "You asked me what you are to me before you left the other night."
You nod slowly, head still reeling from the kiss. Truthfully, you were willing to pretend the conversation never happened if you could go back to being friends again. You missed Jason. 
"You're everything to me." Jason's shoulders are relaxed, his face free of tension as he says this. You're so shocked by the fact that he doesn't seem to be in pain as he opens himself up to you, that it takes a minute to process the actual meaning of his words. Your lips part but he shakes his head, continuing to speak. "You're everything. And sometimes I can't even think about that too much, let alone speak it, because I'm scared it'll consume me. I'm scared you'll consume me. The idea of compromising your safety, the idea of you loving me back, all of it. I'm... I was scared."
You lift your hand to place it over Jason's, still resting on your cheek. "That's okay. I can think and speak enough for the both of us," you tease and Jason laughs quietly, his breath tickling the inside of your wrist and sending a shiver down your spine. "You're everything to me as well, by the way. And sometimes all I can think about is loving you. I was just waiting for you to say it first."
Jason smiles and you think the corners of his lips lifting up and his eyes lighting up is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen, each time blowing you away like it's the first time you've witnessed it. "Does that mean I lose? Kinda feels like I've won," he tilts his head, pretending to think about it.
"Oh, you've so lost," you furrow your brows in a mockingly serious frown. "And I'll be telling Tim as much."
Jason stills. "Please do not tell me that he bet you fifty dollars I'd confess first as well."
Your jaw drops. "That little bastard was playing both of us?"
You start laughing when Jason lets out an irritated groan, dropping his head onto your shoulder to bury his face in your shirt. You thread your hands in his hair and wrap an arm around his neck. He sighs, half content and half resigned. "I say we don't tell him for as long as we can get away with it. Live in peace for a while."
"We're talking about Tim here," you remind Jason, leaning back to lift his head and look at him. "I wouldn't be surprised if he already knew. And he'd literally never talk to you again if he knew we were hiding it after he finds out."
"I don't care," Jason says, lifting your hand to brush his lips over your knuckles. He leans back to run his eyes over your face, drinking you in like looking at you is a rare occurrence that he doesn't get the opportunity to do much. "You're all I need, anyway."
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martiniluvr · 4 months
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Okay im tanning and i just got an idea
Outdoor sex with Jason 🙏
Like youre tanning and just relaxing and he just CANNOT stay away. He just lays next to you and slowly moves closer and by the time you know whats happening hes on you 🧎‍♀️
And when he's done he just "just wanted to let you know you forgot your alarm and its time to turn over, couldn't let my girl burn" AHHH
“thank you for the ask leah” we say in unison 🩷 freestyled a lil bit towards the end oop don’t sue. also? this is me pushing my summerboy jason agenda.
18+ minors dni
warnings: sprinkle of exhibitionism 👀
★・・・★・・・★・・・★
he was supposed to be helping you reapply your tanning oil, but somehow jason todd has worked his way between your legs, and now your bikini bottoms are pulled to the side and your ass is bouncing off his thighs as he fucks you languidly in the hot afternoon sun. his movements are unhurried and mellow thanks to the heat, and his hands roam your ass freely, occasionally squeezing the plump flesh between his fingers.
you moan softly into the towel beneath you as he rocks in and out if you with ease, your wetness pooling at the base of his cock and making it glisten in the sun. jason’s green eyes are lidded while he watches your pussy take him almost to the hilt, a lazy smile spreading on his face as you struggle to keep quiet. he knows you’ve only worn this little two-piece around him to get yourself in this position, and he’s more than happy to oblige; even out in the open like this, he can’t resist you.
the sight of you before him is something to behold; your tanning lotion has your skin glowing in the sunlight, and your ass in the air gives him an unobstructed view of your sex leaking around him. there’s a nagging feeling at the back of your minds that you’ll be caught—after all, you’re fucking by the wayne manor pool, and the man of the house could be home any second—but jason is too consumed by the way you feel and the sounds you make to care.
his lower abdomen starts to tense as your moans get louder, and he brings a hand over your mouth despite his orgasm creeping up on him. “shhh, princess,” he rasps, speeding up his thrusts. “want somebody to hear you?” you whine into his palm as his grip on your ass tightens, feeling his cock twitch inside you. his hips falter, and he pulls out of you with a deep groan as hot ropes of cum paint your lower back.
after a moment, he sighs and uncovers your mouth, leaning down to kiss the top of your head as he comes down from his release. your head is spinning as you let your hips drop back onto the chaise, when jason’s voice catches your attention. “turn over for me, ma,” he tells you, using another towel to wipe down his mess on your skin. you look at him, puzzled, and he chuckles as he coaxes you onto your back with his hands on your waist.
“what? don’t want your tan to be uneven,” he says coyly, repositioning himself between your legs. he glances back at the house before bringing his fingers to your tender clit, circling slowly. “jason—” you say, but it sounds more like a moan than a warning. he flicks his eyes back to you and grins.
“just relax,” he coos, sinking his middle finger into your aching cunt as you gasp. “y’don’t wanna get caught, right?”
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