#Red hood fanfiction

[spidernuggets]

i’ve had this idea for so long and i really feel like you can do it justice because i LOVE your writing style so…

reader that knows jason’s identity but he doesn’t know that they know, so reader keeps teasing him. i think it’d be ESPECIALLY good if reader goes out of their way to buy nightwing merch or talk about how red robin is their favorite

that’s just the main idea you have full creative license over it 🫶🫶

Jason Todd x Reader

def not doing this to avoid studying chem...

"Hey, Jay, lookie!" You called him over as you entered the door of your apartment.

Jason had his nose stuck in a book as you walked in. He turned his head over to see you with a cheerful smile and a little paper bag in your hand.

"What is it?" He asked, bookmarking his novel, carefully setting it down on the coffee table.

I quietly snorted to yourself, eager to see his reaction as you pulled out a little Nightwing plush.

"Isn't it so cute!" You cheered, practically shoving the blue and black toy to his face.

Jason mentally grumbled at the sight of the plush. "Is that supposed to be Nightwing? You chose the lamest vigilante, babe," he says as his eye twitches.

You shrugged. "He's not lame! If you think about it, his ass does look good in that suit," you smirked to yourself, knowing it would get a rise out of Jason. "And besides. I mostly only got him because the stores aren't releasing a Red Robin version for another month. So I'm gonna save up some money before them," you tell him, hugging the plushie.

It seemed as if Jason's face went comically red, as you mentioned his own brother's butt. He wanted nothing more than to throw the plushie out the window, rip it apart, set it on fire. Anything to get your hands off that damn doll.

"They sell Red Hood plushies!" He tried not to complain. "Why not buy them? It's better use of your money," he grumbled, folding his arms together.

"I don't really like Red Hood," you carefully said, watching every twitch of his reaction while petting over the Nighting plush.

Jason felt like a bullet went through his heart, and he felt like hunching over to clutch his chest in agony.

"Why not! He's the best one!" He said in disbelief as you tried not to laugh over his reaction.

You shrugged a shoulder. "I dunno. He's just not a favourite of mine. Althought the thigh holsters looks great on him, woo!" You cheekily smiled, fanning yourself with your hand and biting your bottom lip as you put the plush away.

Jason felt heat rise up in his neck at the comment, ready to just blurt out that he was, in fact, the Red Hood.

"Maybe it's the giant red helmet that throws me off," you tap your chin, pretending to think as Jason made a mental note to have his helmet potentially be redesigned.

"His big red helmet is the best part.." Jason muttered to himself as he slumped on the couch. And you could've sworn you saw a pout form on his lips.

"Anyways, this toy is gonna be a great part of my collection!" You cheered as Jason perked up.

"Collection? You have more?!" He asked, disgust written all over his face as you tilted your head to the side.

"Well.. no, but I wanna start one! Oh! And I want to start a collection for Red Robin, too! I saw somewhere that they're selling a similar costume online!" You say excitingly. "I might be his biggest fan," you say while suppressing a laugh.

Jason was now on his feet, standing right in front of you. "Why not be Red Hood's biggest fan?" His pout was way more obvious now. You were surprised that he wasn't more discreet about it.

"Why are you so caught up with Red Hood?" You asked innocently.

"Uh, let's see. He's skilled, he's smart, he's strong, he's muscular and he's gorgeous!" He practically yelled as he towers over you.

You rested a hand on your hip as you leaned on one leg. "How the hell would you know he's gorgeous? He never takes his helmet off," you asked, rasing an eyebrow.

"Well- I- You know, he-" you giggled as he stammered and tripped over his words.

You decided to finally put him out of his misery, standing on your tio toes as you wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him a lingering kiss on his cheek.

"Calm down, lovely, I know you're Red Hood," you muttered against his skin.

Jason's brows scrunched together, pushing you back. "Wait, wait, wait- you knew?! And you didn't tell me?" He said in absolute shock.

"I wanted you to tell me at your own time.. but at the same time, I wanted you to tell me sooner since someone keeps showing up late to our dates for some unknown reason," You raised an eyebrow at him, not pleased with the fact that he was recently showing up pretty late to some of your dates because of his patrols.

Jason awkwardly chuckled while scratching the back of his neck. "Uh huh.. yeah- I'm.. I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to be late, baby," he muttered. But you quickly placed a soft peck to his lips.

"It's okay. You can make it up to me," you smiled in reassurance.

"But - but how did you even find out? How long have you known?"

"Uhh.." You looked up, trying to remember. "Around two months ago? And you left your holsters here. You know. The one that looks real good on your thighs," you smirked, leaning up to him as you teased him.

The heat returned back to Jason's neck, now reaching up to his ears. "Fuck.. I left them here? There weren't any guns in them, were there?" He asked with concern.

Your hand caressed his cheek. "No, don't worry. I kept the holsters in your closet."

Jason kissed your forhead as a soft thank you.

"So.. are you actually gonna keep that plushie?" He asked, referring to the Nightwing plushie you bought, a rumbling of jealousy rising in him.

You snorted as you shook your head. "No, I kept the receipt. Besides. It doesn't go with my collection."

His brows furrowed. "Collection?.."

You smiled, taking his hand and bringing him into your bedroom. You opened the closet and reached to the back, pulling out a big, brown box.

Upon opening it, the lid flew open, hardly abke to keep in the many plushies, figures, and clothing items, all based on Red Hood.

Jason's jaw dropped as he looked at all the Red Hood merchandise that you kept.

You pulled out a brown leather jacket that had the red bat symbol at the back of it.

"I've waited forever to finally wear this around the house." You say, putting on the jacket, giving Jason a twirl as yoh showed it off.

Jason breathed out a chuckle, placing his hands on your hips, pulling you close. "You look good, babe," he mumbles, his nose tickling yours. "Should wear it more often," his voice dropped, a suggestive tone laced within it.

You smirked back. "Yeah, that was the plan."

MAN HAVE I MISSED WRITING

okay, back to studying because i can practically hear Missy telling me to go study

[smutinlove]

ᴊᴀꜱᴏɴ ᴛᴏᴅᴅ—ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴀʟᴘʜᴀʙᴇᴛ

—You know what this is. For my fellow Jason Todd lovers, this is for you.

✯A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)

This man can either be rough or soft. But most of the time, he is rough. But he also loves taking care of you. After sex, he'd run a bath for you or give you a well-deserved massage while whispering something along the lines of, "You did so good, love."

✯B = Body part (His favorite body part of yours)

He is a total thigh man. He loves your thighs. Jason loves seeing you wear short shorts that show off your thighs. He also loves it when you sit down and your thighs quadruple in size. It always gets him in the mood.

✯C = Consent (He's a gentleman)

He will NEVER do anything to you without asking first. Jason would hate to see you hurt, especially if he hurt you. He couldn't live with himself if he were the one that hurt you.

✯D = Dirty secret (Very obvious)

Whenever you're out or not around, he'll raid your closet and masturbate using a piece of your clothing. (He is a major horndog)

✯E = Experience (How experienced is he?)

He's had a few flings and hookups before he died. He's experimented with a few things. (Toys etc..) He's a very experienced person. Jason's a quick learner when it comes to you as well. He knows what you feel uncomfortable and comfortable with.

He's occasionally asked Dick or Bruce for advice as well. (Bruce would probably avoid the question and say he needs to go on patrol or something. But Dick would definitely answer and questions from Jason.)

✯F = Favorite position

Missionary. He loves seeing you squirm and moan beneath him while he fucks you until you can't walk straight. And if he's in an extra special mood (jealous/angry) his hands suddenly find their way to your neck, giving you a rough squeeze and ramming into you like it's his last day on earth.

✯G = Goofy (Is Jason more serious or just goofy?)

It depends on Jason's mood. Sometimes he'll make jokes and tease you. But mostly, he's serious and into the moment. And when he's angry or frustrated, he always feels better when he hears you scream his name and moan.

✯H = Hair (Does the carpet match the drapes?)

Jason keeps himself neat. He occasionally has a bit of facial stubble. And he may or may not have a bush down there. But if you want him to shave, he will. He's good like that.

✯I = Intimacy (How is he during the moment? Romantic aspect)

I feel like Jason would get a bit uncomfortable when he feels vulnerable. But during sex, he's definitely more rough and does his best to ask how you are.

Jason struggles with showing his emotions and expressing his feelings, but it's something he's working on.

But when you're not having sex, he knows you. Jason is great at reading your feelings. He knows what you want and don't want. He will always want to make you happy and remind you that you're loved.

✯J = Jacking off

(Mentioned in dirty secrets) He really only does it when you're not around. Most of the time, you are the number one thing on Jason's mind, causing him to get hard and have to do something about it.

✯K = Kinks

Size kink - He has a major size kink. He's around 6 feet and he loves the feeling of being bigger than you. He loves towering over you and randomly picking you up, feeling your figure against his chest.

Choking - After he was thrown into the lazarus pit, his grew. A lot. He became stronger as well. He loves the feeling of having control over you. The way you squirm under his grasp makes him feel powerful.

Orgasm denial - He loves to see you beg. Jason wants you begging for even the slightest bit of release. It makes him

✯L = Location (Fav place)

He isn't picky. He will bend you over a sink at your local Arby's if it meant he could fuck you. But Jason loves fucking you in the shower. Him seeing you squirming and moaning under him as he fucks you in a tight secluded space does something to him in so many ways.

✯ M = Motivation (What turns him on)

Jealousy. He absolutely hates it when you talk to other men. He's very possessive over you. The idea of you even taking a small liking to ANYONE pisses him off.

Arguing/bickering. This man loves chaos. It's his natural home. And whenever you two fight, it gets him hard. And that leads to angry makeup sex.

✯N = No (Turns offs)

Gun/knife play - NEVER. He would hate to put you under that kind of thing. Jason would never dream of hurting you. And he grew up in one of Gotham's crime alleys. He knows all the disgusting things that happen.

Threesomes are a no. He hates sharing, especially when it comes to you. The slightest thought of it angers him. He also does not want anyone else to look at you.

✯O = Oral (Preferences in giving receiving, skill, etc..)

This man knows how to eat pussy. He'd eat you out like it's his last meal. He's good at it. He knows what makes you scream. But Jason also doesn't mind being given head. He teases you, calling you a "good girl" and he praises you when you swallow his come.

✯P = Pace (is he fast and rough? slow and gentle?)

It'd depend on his mode really. But he likes to fuck you hard, but he knows how much you can take. He'll definitely hold your hand. And later on, he'll run you a bath and take care of you.

✯Q = Quickie (his opinion, how often etc..)

He'll never say no to a quickie if you two are down bad. But Jason prefers to take his time with you. He wants you screaming and begging for release. He just loves to tease and make fun of you.

✯R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's not much of a risk-taker. (He def can't be an entrepreneur.) If you want him to try something new, you'd have to beg. And it would take a long time for him to actually warm up to it. He'd be okay to use restraints if it's okay with you. But he would never put himself in a submissive position.

✯S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go? how long?)

It would depend on his mood, really. He could definitely go for a round or two if it's just casual sex. But if he's angry or jealous? You will not be able to walk for a few days minimum.

✯T = Toy (do they own toys? do they use them? do they use them on their partner?)

Jason would NEVER use them on himself. He hates feeling submissive and losing control. But on you? Definitely. I feel like he would definitely use handcuffs on you just to stop you from moving your hands so much when he's devouring your cunt.

✯U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Jason motherfucking Todd is the biggest tease ever. He will touch you everywhere but where you want him too. He wants you begging for him. Jason wants you screaming his name, begging him to touch you where you want him too.

✯V = Volume (how loud they are, etc...)

Jason isn't really loud. You'll hear an occasional grunt or low moan coming from him. But he will definitely pull your hair and give you an occasional reminder that HE is the one pounding into you.

✯W = Wild card (random headcanon for character)

Jason wants to dominate you. Period.

✯X = X-ray (what's happening under those clothes?)

his cock is def 8-9 inches. no explanation needed.

✯Y = Yearning (sex drive)

Jason definitely has a high sex drive. He would definitely fuck you all day.

✯Z = Zzz (sleep)

He doesn't fall asleep until you do. He wants to make you feel comfortable and protected. He's a gentleman (most of the time) frr.

»»————<3———-««

im def going back into my jason todd phase. maybe i'll do one for dick and bruce. <3

anyway this took so long to write and im tired. VERY TIRED. maybe jason can tuck me into bed and give me a kiss?

[jvsont0dd]

gonna be honest, the way some of you on here talk about jason todd with such disgust about him being seen as anything other than “angry, uncaring, monster, criminal, awful person” despite MANY comics giving a look at his actual values and how trauma has affected him is really fucking weird. you don’t have to dog one character and put them in the box of “irredeemable immorality” in order to boost your favorite character instead. nuance has escaped you and it’s embarrassing that you’re typing it out for everyone to see

[incorrectmarvelquotesss]

— rose-tinted shadows —

Warnings: fluff, tiny bit of angst, mentions of violence

Summary: You and Jason fall in love a little bit more each night.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Female Reader

Word Count: ~3.4k

A/N: Someone was talking about reader descriptions not being told beforehand so I’m just going to add in that reader has hair long enough to put up in a bun (only mentioned in the first portion). I’ve been putting off writing the last bit but now that I’m done… Enjoy!

Jason stumbled away from the window, the chilly draft seeping through the glass sent a shiver down his spine. He hastily pulled it shut behind him, the latch clicking into place with a satisfying thud. His hands, numb from the cold, fumbled with the bolt, the metal feeling icy against his skin as he secured it tightly. As he turned away from the window, the warmth of the room enveloped him, a stark contrast to the biting cold outside. His cheeks and ears tingled with the rush of blood returning, a sensation akin to pins and needles. 

With a sigh of relief, he unclasped his helmet, feeling the weight of it lift from his head, leaving his hair tousled and his forehead damp with sweat. Peering out of the window one last time, he drew the curtains closed, the fabric whispering against the glass as it obscured his view. Intent on making his way to the couch to rest before heading to bed, Jason’s movements were halted by an unexpected obstacle. His shin collided with the sharp edge of the coffee table, the pain shooting through his leg like a bolt of lightning. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, his breath hitching in his throat as he clenched his jaw against the pain. He glared down into the abyss where he assumed the table was situated. Rubbing his throbbing shin, Jason's gaze darted to the flicker of light in the kitchen. 

And there you were, standing in the warm light, your presence a welcome sight in the dimness of the room. Your expression was unreadable, a mixture of amusement and annoyance as you leaned against the counter, arms crossed over your chest.

Your hair was mussed, most of it up in a messy bun while some strands fell into your face. A few blanket lines were pressed into your skin, just on the apple of your cheek. You were still in your pajamas—a pair of sweatpants and Jason’s old band tee. 

There was nothing special about your attire nor the expression you wore. And yet, Jason’s shoulders fell loose. “Hey, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice soft with fatigue as he offered you a weary smile. You turned your head slightly, your lips curling into a faint smile as you watched Jason hobble toward you. The fatigue in his voice mirrored the weariness in his eyes, but there was a warmth there, a familiarity that softened the lines of his face.

“Rough night, honey?” You asked, the concern evident in your tone as you pushed yourself off the counter, closing the distance between you. Jason nodded, his steps slow and deliberate as he approached you. You wrapped your arms around his waist, tilting your head up as a silent invitation for a sweet peck. He snaked his arms around your shoulders and leaned down to peck your lips—he knew he stank from the snowfall. 

You wrinkled your nose and pulled away from him. “You stink.” You pulled away completely, merely reaching out a hand. Your fingers brushed against his arm as you guided him to the nearest chair, nudging him to sit down for a few minutes. He pouted when you started to step away, hands landing on your hips and tugging you to stay put. 

“Stay for a mo’, sweetheart,” he managed to mutter out through his utter exhaustion, your presence creating an atmosphere so soothing that it was lulling him to sleep. You gave in with little to no resistance, combing your fingers through his hair and stepping close enough for him to rest his forehead against your stomach. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” you whispered, still working your gentle fingers into his scalp. You scratched his neck lightly with the tips of your nails. “How’s Roy doing?” 

“He’s fine.” Jason’s words were fast, but slurred. With each stroke, Jason felt the tension in his muscles begin to melt away. His eyes were drooping shut and he was overwhelmed with love, squeezing his arms around your waist. “Why you up, sweetheart?” 

“Came to grab some water,” you told him softly, “but then I heard you dropping into the fire escape and thought I would just wait for you.”

“In the dark?” Jason's voice was tinged with amusement, a hint of laughter bubbling up from deep within him. He could feel the vibrations from your little giggles against his cheek. He opened his eyes fully to look up at you, chin now resting where his cheek was just a second ago. Your eyes were just a bit puffy from sleep and the blanket lines were fading on your cheek, but he could tell you were tired. Jason could sense the weariness in your frame, the effort it took for you to stay on your feet and not lean your whole weight against him.

“I wasn’t going to turn them on and burn my eyes,” you remarked with a lazy eye roll. You grinned then, a twinkle in your eyes telling him that you planned on teasing him for something now. “How’s your shin?” His shoulders shook with laughter, the drowsiness disappearing for the time being as he pulled on your waist. He sat up straighter, your stomach pressing into his chest. 

He waited for your laughter to die down before he spoke. “I’m better now,” he confessed, his fingers tracing absent-minded patterns on your back as he savored the feeling of you being close. The scent of your shampoo and perfume mixing in with something entirely you. He leaned in closer to you, head tilting up to look at you. Your eyes flickered between his, seemingly flustered with the way he was looking at you. 

You pecked his lips and whispered, “You still stink.” 

It was one of those rare nights Jason was home the whole night. 

It was rare for Jason to be home at night, but even rarer for the sun to be out for an entire week in Gotham. It was known for its rain clouds and sloshy snow. Gotham was a little less dangerous in the summer when the sun stayed up longer than usual, glaring down on people’s backs harshly. The criminals seemed to decrease their daily dosage of bad and hid in the gleaming rays, wearing smiles on their faces and enjoying the few days of pure sunlight. 

Dick, being the doting older brother he was, chose to give everyone a few days off of patrol, including Bruce. Not that everyone had willingly agreed; they were either bribed or blackmailed. Dick had some pictures of little Damian snuggled up to his Batman plushie and told Tim that he would have no access to any internet if he did go on patrol. Dick had something on Bruce that he wouldn’t share with anyone—nobody really wanted to know anyway. Even Jason had to be bribed with the reminder that his time off would be spent with you. 

That was exactly what Jason did on his free nights. 

If you two weren’t cuddled up in bed, bare and vulnerable to each other, you two were nestled together on the couch. A movie or TV show would be playing in the background, forgotten as Jason left a path of kisses from your jaw to your collarbone. He would pay extra attention to the spot that made you squirm and tug his hair before kissing your lips sweetly. It was a silent promise of more. His hands would travel around your body, sometimes lifting your hands off of him and kissing your knuckles slowly. 

If you were up and going around the apartment you both shared, Jason was right behind you, eager to help you with mundane tasks. In the kitchen, his hand would land on your hip from behind you, a pat to your side before he grabbed something you couldn’t reach. Sometimes his arms would wrap around your middle, repeating the steps for a recipe. Other times, he would grab the things in your hand and start pestering you to sit down while he handled the food. 

Most of the time, it would end up with you sitting on the kitchen island while he was between your legs and trading lazy kisses. 

Tonight, you were perched up on the kitchen island, clad in Jason’s briefs and shirt with him standing between your legs. His hands were resting on your hips as he tugged you near the edge, lips drowning the small gasp you let out. Slow, languid kisses were being traded, so full of love that your head was spinning with the need of more. Or less. You didn’t know which it was with his hands starting to wander under your shirt, kneading the soft skin as he pulled away from your lips for a breather. 

“I love you,” he whispered, not waiting for your response as he kissed you lazily. His hands started on two different paths. One trailed up your spines, fingers tickling the curve of your back as the other went down towards your thigh. You let out a noise between a moan and whimper when his hand fisted some of your hair and tilted your head back gently for better access. His hand squeezed your thigh when he pulled away again, staring at you with a dopey grin on his face. 

When he kept staring, you asked, “What?” Your voice was low and husky, staring back at him with a growing shy smile. His cheeks were tinged with red and his lips were swollen, hair mused from your own wandering hands. He looked so good. 

He merely shook his head and said, “I just really, really love you.” Then he kissed you again, not again waiting for you to respond with your own declaration. You knew he knew you loved him just as much as he loved you so you kissed him back, arms wrapping around his neck and pulled him down a little. A few seconds later, he pulled away again, looking at you exactly the way he was before and fully intending to tell you how much he loved you.

“I—”

“I love you too, honey,” you cut in with a giggle at his agape mouth. You weaved your hands through his hair and tilted your head towards him, lips just mere inches away. “I am absolutely, completely, and insanely in love with you, Jason Todd.”

He grinned, kissed you hard, and then said, “I am deadly in love with you, Y/N Y/S.” 

Jason gracefully landed on his feet, tugging the window close behind him. He didn’t bother checking for any tailing and closed the curtains. A smile tugged at his lips when he caught your face lit under the only source of light in the living room. You were snuggled up in the armchair with a blanket or two piled on your curled up knees, a book leaning against your legs and open with your fingers. The lamp next to you flickered slightly, the bulb ready to be replaced. As were the others in the apartment. 

You looked up after a moment, eyes falling from his head to his shoes slowly. “You okay?” You asked quietly, a slight croak to your vowels that told him you hadn’t spoken since he left. He nodded slowly, hands coming up to click the little button under his helmet to remove it from his head. He didn’t bother fixing his hair. He smiled sadly at you and removed his shoes on the little mat that you had placed under the window after a particularly muddy mess he had made in the house. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he mumbled, making his way to you timidly. His mind was still reeling from the fight you both had before he left, a hole building up in his chest that he wouldn’t be able to fill until he was sure you were still here with him. 

You let out a small sigh and extended a hand for him to latch on to with his gloved hands. Your other hand placed the book upside down under the lamp. Your eyes flickered down to his glove, brows slightly pinched as you started removing it. The sound of velcro being pulled apart filled the void for a few seconds as you moved from one hand to another, still not meeting his eyes. He shifted his weight unconsciously and waited for your eyes to meet his again. Then, when his gloves had been pulled apart, you tugged on his hands. 

He felt your resolve crumble slightly when you looked up at him and whispered, “Sit with me, please.” You moved up a little, your other hand holding up the blankets for him to get under. He moved as fast and gently as he could, yearning for your body warmth against his. His leathers were uncomfortable and one of his guns stabbed into his thigh, but he wouldn’t complain about it. He wouldn’t complain about a gun shot if you were asking him to sit with you. He wouldn’t even feel it. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated in a murmur, enclosing his arms around your form. You shifted to sit across his lap, adjusting the blankets around you. He was sweating under his layered leathers, but he shivered when your hand ghosted his neck. You undid his leather jacket and pushed it down his shoulders. He obliged and threw to the couch without taking his eyes off of you, his white tank top cladding his form. You pressed your hand against his chest, right over where his heart was beating for you. 

“I just want you to be careful,” you whispered. You tapped his chest twice with the tips of your fingers, looking up at him with your glossy orbs. “I need you to be careful.” Your vowels cracked at the edges a little, bottom lip a little wobbly. 

His heart seemed to break at the confession, willing it to piece itself back together, but he could hear it beating in the deafening silence. He leaned his head down, forehead pressing into yours with a silent promise to do better. To be better for you. 

“I will,” he said instead of all the other things he had said to you while leaving. At the time of his departure, it felt like too much. Like you were doubting his skills and wit to stay alive. He knew his nighttime activities were dangerous and just as hard for you as they were for him. He grabbed your hand when you went to move it from his chest to keep it there. “You’re the reason I want to be careful, sweetheart.” 

You took a breath. “I know.” You nodded and let your eyes trail to his forearms. “You should change. Maybe take a quick shower, too. You stink. Definitely change.”

He had forgotten all about the uncomfortable leathers and the gun that was stabbing into him as he held you. His mind was already spitting out ways he could make it up to you. Even if he had apologized and you had forgiven him, he couldn’t get the image of your eyes filled with tears out of his head. He could definitely start with holding your hand and letting you tug him to the bathroom. 

Jason quietly landed on the mat, wiping his muddy shoes and toeing them off carefully. His eyes flickered around the silent apartment, heart clenching as he looked back outside for any goons that might have followed him. He did a few sweeps of the alleyway and hoped that there was no one lurking in the shadows that was hell bent on finding Red Hood. He sighed softly as he did one last sweep for the goons that he had encountered on his way here. No one was there, he told himself as he locked the window and closed the curtains shut. 

He turned away from the window and made his way through the living room to the kitchen, his dry throat cursing at him for not taking a sip of Dick’s water when he had offered. He grabbed a glass and filled it blindly, chugging it down and taking another glass full. He moved over and opened the fridge. The refrigerator’s light made him squint as he ducked down to see if there were any leftovers from dinner. He moved a few things around and grabbed a box of sushi that you had probably ordered. 

As he sat down at the kitchen island to eat he heard a muffled groan from your shared bedroom. His eyes flickered up, resting steadily on the door to the right in the short hallway. He held his breath and waited for any other sounds or movement. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he had hoped that maybe you had woken up. 

It was a rough night and all he really wanted to do was hold you—or let you hold him. It usually started off with his arms wrapped around your waist and holding you to his chest, laying you on top of him slowly but surely. Sometimes, he tugged you a bit quickly if you were awake. After a while, your body would start drooping over his side and onto the bed. Then you would tug him over to rest his body over yours, moving his head to your chest to listen to your heart. Your nails would scratch at his head and one finger would trail on his spine. 

But there were no other noises arising from your bedroom. It made him deflate slightly, sighing as he munched into a piece of sushi bitterly. It was selfish to want you awake just to comfort him. He knew he should be glad that you were getting your sleep, working irregular shifts at your job because one of your coworkers, a good friend of yours, had a baby. But he still felt the desire to wake you with his selfishness and want of comfort. He finished his sushi with a few more bites, now eager to see you. 

He threw away the empty box, eyes now adjusted to the dark. He made his way to the hallway bathroom, not wanting to bother you with the light or the noise of the shower. It made too much noise nowadays. You wanted him to take a look at it after you couldn’t find anything, but he had been putting it off for days. He took the quickest shower he could, trying to get most of the dirt out of his hair. He looked at his reflection, wincing at the purple bruise blooming on his cheekbone rapidly. There was no point in icing it now; it would do nothing. 

He entered your shared bedroom, only to realize that you were awake. Reading his first edition of Pride & Prejudice under the lowest setting of your bedside lamp and cuddled up under the blankets. Your eyes merely flickered up to him for a moment before darting back to the book. He wanted to scoff. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to do everything to grab your attention. He wondered if you had noticed his bruise or not. Probably not. You usually fretted over him, even for the smallest cut that appeared on him. 

“Sweetheart?” He looked at you carefully, wondering if he had accidentally done something he shouldn’t have for your silent treatment. You hummed before he could think a bit further. “I thought you would be asleep.” 

You stretched, closing the book and looking at him properly. “Couldn’t sleep without you.” You looked at him with tired eyes, now taking in his bruise. You beckoned him over with your head. He slipped under the covers towards you, letting you cup his cheeks. A sigh escaped his lips at the slightest stroke of your thumb over his bruise. Your touch was a much better remedy than ice or painkillers. 

“Did you ice it?” From the way you had asked him, he was sure that you knew he hadn’t. He shook his head ever so slightly, not wanting your hands to move from his face as he stared at your face. His eyes drank in every little feature, the curve of your nose, the little smile lines against your eyes. Every little feature. 

“Missed you,” he mumbled, eyes growing heavy with sleep in your presence. You smiled softly and repeated the words back to him with a peck on his lips. Jason knew when he slept tonight, he wouldn’t have to deal with dark shadows painting his dreams. Instead he would smile slightly as he held you close with rose-tinted shadows grazing his eyes.

[siconetribal]

Put it on My Tab (16)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!reader

Warning:

Backpack newbie, All the green flags, It is time for...the talk

A/N:

I originally came on here about 45 minutes ago to post this and got completely side tracked and distracted by a draft that was just staring at me for days. (I normally don't see it on the app and I might have been avoiding it because I couldn't decide on what to choose.) Anyways, without further ado, the next installment!

Please comment/like/reblog. If you’d like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know!

As always, a huge thank you and shout out to @harlequin-hangout for the amazing banners you made for me.

If you’re new to the story, please check out the master post for the rest of the chapters.

Jason waited patiently for her to climb on. He watched her shuffle bit by bit closer to him and his bike. He could not see her face because of the helmet, but he did not have to. He knew the type of face she must be making, and he had to keep his composure to not laugh at how cute this all was. Y/N was not the first innocent young woman he has dealt with, nor the first one to sass him back. She was a weird combination of the two that was uniquely her, and that is what drew him to her. Normally, someone like her would have never spoken to someone like him. Their worlds would have never collided. In reality, anyway. The fact that she’s IAmBatman still throws me for a loop. I would’ve bet big money it was one of the other Robins trolling me. He was about to ask if she needed help when he felt his bike shift from the added weight and her arms squeeze him tight, in what probably was her version of a death grip but ended up as more of a bear hug for him. Yeah, I’ve been squeezed harder by worse. I don’t mind this. He lightly patted her arms.

“I promise, I won’t do anything to scare you. Just follow my body and don’t be too stiff, ok?” He looked over his shoulder to see her try to look up at him, but his helmet was not doing her any favors. He snorted out a chocked laugh and quickly looked forward once more. “Sorry, sorry,” he reached back and hooked his hand under her thigh by her knee, tugging her leg up to rest her foot on a proper place. The motion had her scooting closer, and she jumped again when he pulled her other leg. “Keep your feet here and just enjoy the ride. Did you want me to put on some music? I have Bluetooth in my helmet. It won’t be easy to talk, since you won’t be able to hear well.”

“Music is fine, but how will you hear?” She spoke a little louder to not come out muffled.

“I’ll be fine, I rather you be comfortable.” Yup, she’s definitely having trouble hearing me. “Do you listen to anything in particular?”

“Anything is fine by me, but I tend to do more 90s rock. Linkin Park, Coldplay, or My Chemical Romance are always appreciated.” 

“Really?” He looked over his shoulder again to see if she was lying, but was met with his helmet. Right, I forgot about that. He rolled his eyes at his little lapse in memory. Didn’t expect that list from her. She really knows how to surprise me every time. He searched around a bit and managed to build a small playlist of songs for her to listen to. “Let me know if this is too loud.” He played a song and waited until they found a good setting for her. “Hold tight when the music starts and just move with me, ok?” He secured his phone and pulled out his red half mask that covered his mouth.

I don’t think any of the guys I’ve dated have ever been this considerate. He’s not a textbook gentleman, but he’s pretty close. Y/N was genuinely surprised with how much care he was taking with her. She was nervous that he may find her burdensome and tried not to cause much trouble. The tug on her legs caught her off guard, literally pulling her from her thoughts and scooting her closer to him. His voice was a bit muffled, but she was not sure which made it worse: the beating of her heart that was now magically in her ears or the helmet. Either way, she managed to figure out what he was saying and answer.

“Do you listen to anything in particular?”

“Anything is fine by me, but I tend to do more 90s rock. Linkin Park, Coldplay, or My Chemical Romance are always appreciated.” Is that weird to say? Maybe I should've said something more pop or indie? But I like them and they’re my go-to music.

“Really?” she felt him twist, so she looked up, or at least tried to but could only see part of his face.

How do people ride with big, clunky things like these? Then again, this is his size, so it’s probably not so big or clunky to him. She reasoned. 

Soon enough, everything seemed settled and as soon as the music started, she tightly held onto him. As promised, he kept to an easy speed which allowed her to take in her surroundings. It was not as scary as she thought it would be. The cars that zipped by were not the best, but Jason clearly knew what he was doing and avoided all trouble. At a red light there was a car revving its engine and some passengers were heckling them, but he seemed to just ignore it.

I wonder, would he have responded to them if I wasn’t here? They’re pretty annoying. This is the third light they’ve stopped at with us and are still trying to get a rise out of him. She frowned, unable to hear them thanks to the music. A bunch of rowdy losers. She tightened her grip on Jason. The pat to her arms surprised her, but it was reassuring. Cici’s right, I need to talk to him about the bill. He’s not going to throw a fit and storm off. 

Y/N looked up as they pulled into a parking lot. It was a diner she had seen on a few of the bus rides when the usual bus was not running. She had always thought about stopping by, but it was always a fleeting thought until she saw it again.

“We’re here,” she heard him as the music stopped. “You climb off first, I’ll keep the bike balanced.” She quickly followed his instructions and managed to get off without fumbling, much to her own surprise. Feeling proud, she stood a little taller and pulled off the helmet

“Not so bad, right?” He grinned, his mask hidden in his jacket once more.

“I’ll admit, not as scary as everyone makes it out to be. You were a textbook motorcyclist. I thank you for not trying to give me a heart attack.”

“Bikes get a bad rep, couldn’t let that happen again. Want your bag? It’ll be safe here if not.” Y/N hesitated for a moment. If he does end up freaking out on me, I’ll lose my things. It’s unlikely he would, but I can’t risk it. Who knows what’ll happen. 4k isn’t just some simple bake sale change. “Yeah, I probably should. My phone is there. I should have it on me in case Cici tries to reach me.”

“Say no more,” he carefully handed it to her and took his helmet in return. “C’mon, let’s get some grub. I'm starving!” He led the way inside.

“Well look who it is, back again? Oh, you’re not alone this time?” Y/N looked up at the sound of the gruff voice to a big older guy standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Hey Charlie, what can I say, I like your food. Yeah, I brought a friend, we’ll seat ourselves.” Jason hooked his arm around her shoulders and led her to a booth where there were not as many people. A young woman came around with the sticky laminated menus, pouting at the sight of Y/N. It was evident that the waitress was interested in the handsome regular and Y/N was not off to a good start.

Better not do anything to get her spitting in my food. She nervously smiled, picking up the menu.

Jason watched Y/N as she looked over the choices, a small smile tugging at his lips as he recalled how proud she looked when she dismounted his bike with ease. He was nervous that she may not have liked the ride because of the overcompensating teens that were trying to get him to race, but she had yet to say anything so he let it be 

Those dumbasses were lucky they were allowed to keep up with me. I'd been impossible to catch if I was alone. I’m just glad she wasn't annoyed by them. The ride was peaceful aside from that. She was not stiff and followed his lead well, which was great for him. Feeling her pressed against his back made him realize just how much smaller she was compared to him. She was not frail or sickly, but she was comparably weaker than him or many of the other females he has worked with. Then again, none of them are run-of-the-mill either. He realized the unfair comparison. It was different though, a good difference. He could not really put his finger on why it mattered, but it had. Instead of stressing on it, he let the thought come and go.

When they reached the diner, he asked her about her belongings and she hesitated. She was clearly weighing the risks and benefits. It was not shrewd, it was logical. Even though he was a secret vigilante, she should be cautious. If he was anyone else, she could have been a lot of trouble. Hearing her answer was a relief. He had no intention of just up and leaving her, but anything could happen. Duty could call, and he would need to go, and she would be stuck here. The idea of abandoning her did not sit well with him, and he could not figure out why.

Regardless, everything is going pretty smoothly for now, maybe we can have a decent conversation. I need to bring up the money, but she’s yet to even ask for my name. What does a guy gotta do to be inquired about around here!?  He propped an elbow on the table and glared at her reflection in the window, chin resting in his hand.

“So, I suppose I should start with a name, huh?” His ears perked up at the words, and he quickly turned to face her. “We’ve obviously met a bunch of times, but I didn’t really think we’d ever meet again after so I never bothered. My name's Y/N Y/LN, what’s yours?”

Did I hear right? Did she just and then just? Have I died? Like actually died-died?  “Took you long enough,” he grinned. “Nice to meet you officially, my name is Jason Todd. Now I can change your contact name from ‘Trouble Magnet Barista’ to your actual name.”

“You did not,” he showed her his phone and she whacked him with the menu. He laughed as he dodged the hit.

“You refused to give me your name. What was I supposed to call you? The Expensive Inquisition? Or D.I.D. #1?” He smirked as she scowled at him. “You have no one to blame but yourself for that.”

“I should change your name to Sir Questions-a-lot.” He heard her grumble as she took out her phone and changed his name while he changed hers in his phone. “Something tells you wanted to say more than just your name, what’s up?”

Y/N stared at the words on the menu but paid them no attention. She needed to get her thoughts in order and strike up the conversation without insulting or angering him. It’s not every day some chick comes demanding a large sum of money like that. She glanced at him over the top of the menu. Well for normal people anyway. Trust fund kids with a playboy father might have people knocking on their door all the time. I need to make sure he knows I'm not one of those people.

“So, I suppose I should start with a name, huh?” She finally built up the courage to speak up. “We’ve obviously met a bunch of times, but I didn’t really think we’d ever meet again after so I never bothered. My name's Y/N Y/LN, what’s yours?” She anxiously waited for his response as he simply stared at her with wide eyes. Oh no, did I do that wrong? How else was I supposed to do it? I can’t just say ‘hi’ like we weren’t just with each other!

“Took you long enough,” he grinned. “Nice to meet you officially, my name is Jason Todd. Now I can change your contact name from ‘Trouble Magnet Barista’ to your actual name.”

“You did not,” she gasped when he showed her the screen and she swung the first thing in her hands, which was the floppy menu. Sadly he was able to avoid the feeble strike.

Y/N stiffened at his reminder of why she even brought up their names. He was right. She made the decision to talk to him about the hotel bill. Jason had to have known he broke the machine, but was unaware of the bill that followed. How else would he be so carefree?

“Yes, there is something else.” She set her weapon down and took a deep breath. Just rip it off like a bandaid. “The hotel we stayed at,” she paused for a moment, shifting her gaze from his face to the table. “They contacted me that weekend and told me there was damage to the room. I know you didn’t do it on purpose, but the price to pay is really steep. I won’t demand you to pay all of it since I’ve already started paying it off, but I’d appreciate it if you’d help me with the rest. Which is why I’ve been working like crazy to cover the costs, but it’s slow progress and the hotel is starting to get annoyed with how slow the progress is. Not only that, but I’m afraid they’ll throw me into collections, which will only cause more problems. I wasn’t trying to hide it from you, nor did I want to blame you, but Cici and I are already living tight as is.” She tried to speak as calmly as possible, but her tempo sped up a bit towards the end as her nerves got the best of her. There, I said it! Now all she had to do was wait for him to respond.

Tag: @vbecker10 @wordsfromshona @harlequin-hangout @harpy-space @tild3ath @gone-batty-fics @princessbl0ss0m @dakotali  @antiquecultistst

[ivyppoison]

could I please be sent some jason todd requests ── I’ve been in a fluff mood so you can send those in addition to some angsty + smut requests xx

[mostly-imagines]

Guard Dog vol.I

jason todd x fem!reader

aka don’t fuck with jason’s girlfriend

4 in 1 blurbs

warnings: mildly creepy guys, standard protective bf methods

Jason’s good at shutting people up very quickly. You’d almost call it a talent.

He shuts you up with a kiss when you get stuck in a rant, or with a hug to calm your worried rambles.

And when you’re in an incorrigibly teasing mood, he’ll throw you over his shoulder and carry you back to your bedroom to really shut you up.

With other people though, he has…different methods.

You sit atop your kitchen counter, trading lazy kisses in between giggles with your boyfriend. He stands in front of you, hands massaging your thighs as he leans in for another. You happily oblige.

You break off the exchange to lay a series of sweet kisses on that spot under his jaw.

His head tilts back, letting out a groan so low you nearly miss it. “Sweetheart…” he warns.

“Sorry…” you resign with a sheepish smile.

A knock at the door bursts you out of your shared reverie. You press a kiss to his knuckles and hop down to start setting the table.

Jason gets the door, greeting the pizza guy with a nod as you shuffle around the kitchen. The delivery guy hands him a receipt, asking for a signature.

Jason uses the door as a surface to sign, giving the delivery guy an apt view into your apartment, where he sees you getting out plates in the kitchen. More noticeably, he sees you in your boyfriend's shirt, which rides up just a little bit when you stand up on your toes to reach the top cabinet. The lift of the shirt exposes the bottom of your underwear, though it falls back into place again just as quickly.

Now, lucky for this guy, Jason’s facing the door and does not see him checking you out in your own home. Unlucky for this guy, he has wildly misread the vibe of your relationship. Or at least your boyfriend.

“Man, how do you get anything done around here?” He jests.

Jason looks up at him, and the pizza man’s eyes tear away from your legs to meet his hard gaze. It does not take him long to realize his mistake.

“Try again.” Jason behests, arms crossed in front of him.

The pizza boy’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head, stuttering. “I—uh, I said have a good night.”

“Mhm.” He grumbles.

The pizza guy hands Jason the box with shaky hands and scuttles back down the hallway.

Thankfully, you didn’t seem to notice the exchange, but even so, your boyfriend still glowers down the hallway after him.

“Jay?”

His attention snaps back to you, demeanor changing instantly. “Yeah, baby?”

You’re sitting in your usual spot at the table, his chair empty and waiting just around the corner from you.

“Come sit.” You say, with eyes that might as well be hearts.

He gives a reassuring nod and kicks the door shut behind him.

You and Jason are sitting on the floor in his old room at the manor, your legs thrown over his. You lean up against his bed, asking him about posters on the walls and trinkets on the shelves.

His knee is propped up and your arm dangles across it, his hand in yours. He plays with your fingers and periodically leans forward to leave a kiss on them.

You’d just woken up less than an hour ago after spending the night post-gala, and it’s a peaceful, if not unusually quiet morning.

Dick shouts your name from another room, audibly booking it towards you. Yeah. That’s more like what Jason remembers.

He grumbles some annoyances, dropping his head against your intertwined hands.

Dick bursts into the room, clearly incredibly excited.

“What’s up, Dick?” You ask, calm as ever. Jason lets an unseen smile creep up, head still down.

Dick’s practically jumping up and down, “You gotta see the shit that Tim just found in the cave!” His face drops as he directs his gaze to Jason, “You’re not invited.”

“Thank God.”

Dick ignores him and grabs your wrist, yanking you up from the floor. This is one place where he differs from Jason—he’s not always quite so aware of his own strength.

His grip doesn’t hurt really, but it’s firm enough that you imagine there’ll be bruise marks there later.

“Hey.” Jason calls out, nodding his head to where Dick is holding your arm. “Ease up.”

Dick follows his gaze and immediately loosens his hold, apologizing to you before pulling you along once again (this time much more gentle).

You grin at Jason as he tugs you out the door, him returning it with an endeared smile as he watches you go.

Fuck he loves you.

Jason had a decent break from his night job for once, and was happy to let you drag him out to a bar for a little date. You’d been linked at the hip for most of the night, his hands maintaining their ever present home on your waist with yours rested on his thighs as you told him about your hectic day.

He’d usually prefer to stay in bed with you for as long as possible when he gets time off, but you’d looked so excited asking him to go out with you—he never stood a chance.

You look up into the mirror as you wash your hands, a strand of hair falling into your face as you do. You push it back behind your ear and smile to yourself, recalling the several times Jason had wordlessly done the same throughout the night as you rambled.

You make your way back to the bar, smile immediate on your face when you see your boyfriend. It gets replaced rather quickly though, when a man slides in front of you, cutting off your view of him.

“Hey there.”

You have to take a step back because of how close he decided to stand to you. He looks sober (enough) but wildly overconfident in whatevers about to happen.

"Let me buy you a drink, pretty thing."

Jason calls you pretty thing sometimes. It makes the blood rush to your cheeks and an inescapable smile creep up on your lips. When this guy says it, it makes you literally frown.

"Oh no, I'm okay, my—"

"You seem like a dirty martini kinda girl." He expertly ignores you, clearly trying and failing to make some kind of innuendo there.

Jason's sitting back against the bar, watching the interaction carefully. You still can’t see him, but he’s close and you can rest comfortable knowing he’s looking out for you.

With that reassurance, you don’t play this out quite as carefully as you would if you were alone.

"Look, I don't want a drink from you, thanks."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say to him because his face contorts quickly to mock-disgust that you figure is really just embarrassment.

“Hey, don’t be a bitch just ‘cause—”

You try to sidestep around him, thoroughly done with this interaction, but he grabs your upper arm harshly, pulling you to an abrupt stop.

Jason stands up real quick, yanking the guy backwards by his collar before you can even process what's happening.

Now, you know that Jason is an objectively intimidating guy. There's not many people that will come face to face with that absolute unit of a man and still decide to keep on trying him. However, you tend to forget that when you're so used to your gentle giant that only ever speaks to you kindly and touches you softly.

But his intimidating status becomes very apparent when the guy spins around, looks up at Jason, and immediately takes four steps back. He actually almost bumps into you in the process, not doing anything to tame Jason’s acute distaste for this man.

"Listen to me—back the fuck off before you get hurt."

“She—”

“I don’t give a fuck. Leave.”

The guy hesitates.

“Now.” Jason adjusts his posture to stand at his staggering full height, clearly with no qualms about putting him back in his place.

That does it for him, the man stumbllng away with half-committed mumbles of “whatever” or “something something lame anyway.”

Jason watches him until he walks out the door, before turning back to you.

He delicately takes your upper arm in his hand, pulling your sleeve up to search for bruising. But as harshly as he had grabbed you, it didn’t have the time to cause a bruise before Jason intervened.

“What’d he say to you?” Jason asks, brow furrowed as he inspects your arm.

“Nothing very interesting.” He looks at you mildly.

You smile and comb his hair back from his forehead, “Don’t worry about him. I’m good.”

He lets your arm go, and exchanges it for holding the back of your head, planting a kiss on your forehead.

You take his other hand and guide him back to your seats.

“Besides,” You look over his shoulder and let out a little shocked gasp. “Guess who just walked in.”

He gives you a questioning look before his face slacks, eyes widening in realization.

“No…” And you smile so brightly it almost makes up for what's coming his way.

You redirect your smile over his shoulder and give a wave to the door. Jason swigs down the rest of his drink, hand finding your waist once again.

“Jaybird!”

Jason’s still exhausted from patrol last night but he’d insisted on going with you to the bar to meet your friends. You’d tried to convince him that it was okay to stay in and rest tonight, you’d be fine. But it was a losing battle.

You suspect it has something to do with him not liking when you go out in Gotham at night, especially when you’re drinking.

So he hangs out in the background of the buzz, with you sat in front of him, in between his legs.

You’re talking it up with Roy, who’s been making jokes about how Jason’s “moody ass” tricked you, “the ray of sunshine” into this relationship somehow.

You laugh, taking a sip of your drink. “Right, ‘cause you and Kori were in love at first sight.”

"Oh, fuck off." Roy jeers.

He doesn't say it with the cadence of a joke, but it is.

You know he's joking, he knows he's joking.

Jason, who very well may have been tuned out of the conversation up to that point, does not seem to know he's joking—or he doesn't care.

You don't need to look behind you to know that your boyfriend is in defensive mode, though the look of regret mixed with amusement on Roy's face gives a solid hint.

You hold your hand out to block Jason his path as he moves forward. He lets you stop him, though you're certain he could get past you without so much as blinking, no problem.

"Right. My bad, forgot your guard dog was here. Don't fuck off." Roy backtracks, hands up in front of him.

Jason just rolls his eyes, slouching back down. You reach behind you for his hand, giving it two squeezes. You know he’s tired, so much so that he almost punched his best friend for making a typical joke.

“Five more minutes, okay?” You say softly over your shoulder.

He nods at you blearily, and ducks his head down to rest on your back. You adjust your posture a little bit to make it more comfortable for him and continue on talking, his hand still in yours.

If he hadn’t fallen asleep so quickly, five minutes would’ve been five minutes, but instead it became something more like fifty.

He goes through patches where sleep isn’t always so welcoming, a phase he’s been in for the past couple of weeks. You’d been waking up to find the bed half empty, your boyfriend resigned to doing research on cases in an attempt to at least be productive while he’s awake.

You can’t protect him in the same ways that he protects you—you’re not a fighter or necessarily “intimidating.” But you can protect him like this, in these little ways. Letting him nap on you, making him close the case files and rest with you, holding his hand throughout the night so that when he inevitably has nightmares, he knows immediately that you’re still with him. That he’s safe.

So if he can get some much needed sleep while only costing you a stiff back tomorrow, you’ll happily take that deal as many times as he needs.

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

Riding on the back of JASON TODD’s motorcycle gets you incredibly hot. Everything from the way he put your helmet on and gave it a pat-pat to make sure it was nice and snug and safe; how he coached you to lean with him when he made turns; how you sat on a vibrating vehicle with your cheek nuzzling the cold leather of his bike jacket and your arms wrapped securely around his thick torso; and during stop-lights he’d reach behind him to rub your thigh, checking on you, making sure you’re okay. You wore the little black dress he likes, the one that rides up a bit high on your thigh, but he told you he wants people to stare at the hot piece of ass on the back of his bike. Now he’s parked the cycle, got his jacket unzipped and his helmet under his arm, running a hand through the hair he hasn’t cut in too long. All you can think about is giving him the most offensive head of his life. “What are those fuck-me eyes for, baby?”

[sanguineterrain]

how about Jason with the prompt "text me when you get home"? the one time they forget/fall asleep before sending the text and Jay loses hid mind. rushes over expecting them to be dead but they passed out on the couch as soon as they got home

really superbly SCRUMPTIOUS prompt Aud. I love protective jaybird 🥰‼️ thanks for sending something in 🫶

jason todd x gn!reader. worried protective snuggly jason. no warnings really, ya boy is just paranoid and madly in love with you 💓

request something! I rb all fics to @sanguinelibrary

****

As soon as you get out of your last class of the day, your phone rings.

You answer it, wedging the phone between your ear and shoulder as you fish in your bag for a couple of bills. You're already walking to the train station.

"Hi, snookie bear," you say into the phone, slightly delirious with hunger and sleep deprivation.

Jason snorts on the other end. "That's a new one. Hey, baby. Y'heading home?"

"Indeed I am."

"Need a ride?"

You wait and listen. Eventually, you hear the sounds of hitting and grunting in the background. You roll your eyes—only Jason would be in the middle of a fight and then ask if you need a ride home.

"No, I'm okay. It's not dark yet. Plus you sound busy."

"I'm never too busy for you," he says immediately. "And it's gonna get dark in an hour. Are you sure—"

"Yes, Jay," you say gently. "I'm sure. Don't worry about me. I'm going straight home."

You're already at the station. There's a good amount of people, students and workers alike. The university is in a relatively okay part of town, especially during the day. You're not worried. It's not like you traipse through Crime Alley on your downtime.

"Okay." Jason takes a deep breath. "Just—just be careful. Text me when you get home."

You note the hint of worry in his tone. Maybe this week has been particularly saturated with crime. Jason tends to get a little overbearing about your safety when he's had a tough week. You know he had go down to Blüdhaven and help his brother—with what specifically, you don't know.

Most of the time, you're sure you don't want to know.

"I always do," you say. The train pulls up to the station. "Ooh, train's here! I'll talk to you later. I'm thinking of ordering takeout. Too tired to cook."

"Okay, sweetheart. Be safe. Love you. Lock your door."

You roll your eyes fondly. "Yes, Jay. Love you too. Bye."

You hang up as you step onto the train. You pull your headphones out of your bag and shut your brain off during the ride. By the time you get off the train, you've lost hope that you'll be doing any work tonight. You're absolutely wiped out after three back-to-back classes.

It's still light when you get home. You lock the door after you get in, the habit ingrained into you, and dump your bag onto the couch.

Takeout is a no-go. You're hungry now and about thirty seconds away from passing out on the couch.

You change into your home clothes, eat a granola bar, and call it a day. You'll eat more later.

You turn off your phone to bar any annoying notifications and fall into bed, eyes closing immediately.

****

The sound of your deadbolt being teared off its chain wakes you up. You flinch and jump awake, trying to blink through sleep. Your mouth is dry from how hard you slept, and your eyesight is slightly blurry from the sudden flood of moisture.

Your bedroom door swings open, and suddenly you're pulled into warm, heavily muscled arms. You hug back on instinct; you'd know the feel of your boyfriend anywhere.

"Jay, h—"

"You didn't text," he says, voice shaking. "You said you would. I was—I thought you were—"

You tense, guilt knocking into you.

"Shit. Jason, I'm so sorry. I meant to, I was just so tired..."

Jason pulls back to look at you, hands still on your shoulders. His expression is stern.

"I'm gonna pick you up from now on. When are your late days?"

"Jay, no, GCU is across town. You can't possibly pick me up three days a week. That's too much! What about patrol?"

"Somebody else is out at this time," he says stonily. "Crime Alley can wait an hour while I get you home."

His eyes blaze green, a side effect of the Pit. You can tell he's putting every effort into keeping a lid on the worry and fear and anger over your silence.

"Jason." You cup his face. "Honey, I'm safe. I'm sorry I didn't text you. I'm sorry I worried you. But your adrenaline is spiked right now, Jay. Everything feels magnified. I don't need to be picked up. I was perfectly safe coming home. Okay?"

He shakes his head, holding your wrists. "Anything could've happened. I was so—fuck, baby, I was so scared. I-I checked the station footage and the traffic cams, and I didn't see you after you cut through the park, and I thought—I was sure you'd—"

Jason pulls your arms around his neck and buries his face into your shoulder. He supports you by the backs of your thighs, tugging you into his lap. Then he clings tight.

"Oh, Jay," you murmur, petting his curls. "I'm alright. This end of Gotham isn't so bad. And I know you'd have found me even if something had happened. But nothing did."

"Can't lose you," he chokes out.

"You won't lose me, honey," you say. "You keep me safe."

He trembles in your embrace. You kiss the shell of his ear and continue to pet his hair.

"Let me pick you up tomorrow, at least," he pleads. "We'll get dumplings at that place you like. You barely ate anything when you came home."

"Okay, Jay," you say, because you know he needs that reassurance. He won't relax without it. "That sounds good."

You keep stroking his hair. "Y'wanna order in now?"

"In a minute."

Jason lays you both down on the bed. He throws a leg over yours and pulls you into his chest. It's now that you see just how much tension is locked in his shoulders. He's exhausted.

"Jus' wanna hold you for a bit," he says, lips resting on your shoulder.

He's drowsy, the adrenaline finally ebbing. You close your eyes and snuggle into his arms.

"You can hold me for as long as you want," you say, threading your fingers with his. "I'm not going anywhere."

[ebodebo]

i know that’s right🗣️🗣️

[jayswhorex]

"men suck," you say plopping down on the couch and putting your legs on jason's lap. you leaned back into the plush seating, trying to find some form of comfort in your mind. you had another bad date? that's only the 3rd one this week. this one had spent the whole evening talking about just himself, and god was he boring.

jason's eyes didn't bother looking at you and instead, he helped you peel off those wrenched heels you had worn. "we don't all suck" jason with a snicker, you could just feel the smirk on his face. he never liked any of the guys you went on dates with and he always told you, you had a better option right in front of you but he. he said placing your heels on the floor next to the couch.

"your feet are going to hurt like hell in the morning, let me help you make em less sore princess" softly he grabbed the base of your foot and gently kneaded it into your heel, massaging at the red, bruised skin. at first, you felt the need to pull away from his touch but you slowly began to relax into it.

jason's calloused hands moved from your feet up towards your ankle and then towards your lower thigh, you saw no harm in this.

"jay are you sure-"

"shhh, i've got you, sweetheart, just relax m'kay?" he was only helping you and you didn't want him to stop, at least not now. was it crime to want a bit more, to yearn for more of his touch.

you couldn't help but gasp at the warm feeling of his hands so gentle on your bare skin, under your skirt. "mmm, jay again please…" the two of you had never crossed a line like this and by now you knew you should have told him to stop but you couldn't.

not when your breaths were heavy and you couldn't help but let out estranged moans from just his touch. "fuck, more jay, more!" and with just those words your skirt was bunched up against your stomach and your panties had his full attention. you know what you wanted and he knew too.

he changed his position and began to massage your upper thighs. he leaned against his forearm beside your head while his other hand parted your thighs. he leaned and whispered into your ear, "where is it you want me to touch you, baby?"

without a second to waste you guide his hand to your panties, gently pushing them aside. "here please" you whined and he caved. he didn't hesitate to remove his pants not did he hesitate and sink his thick cock into you. "too much jay, wait wait" allowing you a moment to take in his length and near cum from just the feeling.

his thrusts were slow but we were rough and deep like he had been. waiting for this and he couldn't wait any longer. your legs folded around his waist, bringing his body even closer to yours. this was pure sex and it was exactly what you needed, jason knew that. he could tell you were pent up and tired and he didn't mind doing all the work, he just need you to let him fuck you till, he's the only man you'll ask for.

you won't spend your nights on useless dates but instead spend them on his cock, taking in every inch and piece of him possible. he couldn't help but kiss yours while his hips stuttered against yours, his thrusts becoming softer. you bit at the lip, thinking more when he tried to pull away.

your hands dug into their back, still, you managed to yearn for more. "jay, god I think i'm-" you said, digging into his back once before reaching your release and falling back into the couch. you closed your eyes and then you heard him ask, "what are you thinking about sweetheart?"

there you were on the couch, legs on jason's lap while he massaged the bottom of your foot. nothing had happened, well nothing that you wanted had happened. you could fantasize about what those hands could do for you.

"just how great a full body massage would be…"

[jvsont0dd]

might write a oneshot of jason trying to work through his trauma in a very soft but smutty way, would that be something you would want to read?

[k2ntoss]

*in mid-mission with jason as a partner*

jason: you know, i'd die to pin you against a wall right now and have my way with you.

y/n: jason... *in a warning tone*

jason: *now whispering into your ear* i know you won't even try to push me away, you would enjoy it like the good little slut you are being taken in such a place.

jason: bet you're already getting needy, i know if i slide my hand under your pants i'll feel you starting to get w-

barbara: *through the speakers* jason, i think you forgot to turn off your microphone...

barbara: and i think you owe part of us therapy, it would be damian, tim, steph, cass, duke and me...

jason: wait, what about bruce and dick?

barbara: they're taking notes-

[spidernuggets]

jason todd who comes back from a patrol/mission and just lays flat on you, dead weight, likely just stays there til he falls asleep with you running your hands through his hair because this is the only way he ever feels safe 😭

You're lying on your bed, reading Jason's annotated Jane Austen book. You hear the window creak open, your body remaining still, knowing it's already your big boyfriend coming back from a late night patrol.

His armour is already gone, stored separately in his safe house, and he trudges the few steps it takes to your bed.

He falls limp, but not due to any open wounds he couldn't clean up himself like on occasional nights. No, he sprawls out on top of you, barely moving unless to take heavy breaths because he's just so tired.

You smile at your exhausted lover, carefully putting the book down and running your fingers through his slightly sweaty hair.

He reaches his hand up, attempting to stop you.

"Wait.." He mumbles against your neck that his head is buried into. "Dirty... need to take a shower first.." He says, barely audible.

You ignored him, pushing his hand away and continued to caress his tired little head.

"It's okay, sweetness. Shower tomorrow, hm?" You whisper back, placing the softest kiss to his head and he hums in response, shifting himself so his arms are fully wrapped around your waist.

"Love you, sweet thing," he mutters, letting his fatigue get the better of him and getting some well-deserved sleep.

"I love you too, Jay."

guess who's back for a short hc 🥳

[fwibblefwobble]

Jason Todd loves a lazy Sunday morning.

He wakes with his cheek smushed against the pillow. Blinking slowly, he lifts his head to assess his situation. The first rays of morning peek through the weave of the curtains, dousing the bedroom in a soft glow. The comforter bunches around your bodies, insulating your shared warmth. His left arm dangles lazily from your midsection. Your slow, even puffs of breath warm his chest through the thin cotton of his sleep shirt. He tilts his chin to look down at you, and relaxes. You're snuggled close and safe in his arms, right where you should be. His head falls back against the pillow and he closes his eyes. For once, he allows himself the indulgence of falling back asleep.

The second time he wakes, the clock face reflects 10:36. You begin to stir from sleep, slipping your hand from his back to rub at your eyes. He yawns, exhaling the funk of morning breath right into your face. Your nose scrunches and you feign offense before doing the very same right back at him. He recoils playfully, swatting at the air in front of his face.

The two of you lay in bed for another five minutes before he pulls you up from the bed and into the bathroom. He smiles at the way toothbrushes lean against each other in their container. It's the first thing he looks for in the morning, small but tangible proof of the life you've built together. He needs them, sometimes - reminders of the life he's living, the reality he has trouble trusting. Little pinch-me's litter the bathroom: his razor next to your face wash on the counter, two pairs of bathroom slippers tucked neatly against the wall, the mingled medicine cabinet. He smiles at them all as he brushes his teeth next to you. The two of you make eye contact in the mirror and exchange sleepy grins, sudsy mouths and all. He hums contentedly when you rope him into your morning routine, dutifully rubbing in the various serums and creams you dab onto his face.

He follows you into the kitchen afterwards to perform your respective morning tasks. It's a mutual compromise: Jason decides food, and you decide beverage of the morning. Today calls for tea, you think, reaching for the tin of lapsang souchong in the pull-out drawer. The pan sizzles softly behind you and you turn, interested. The sight of Jason, bedheaded and domestic, makes your heart squeeze in your chest. You can't help but walk over and press a kiss between his shoulder blades on your way to fill the kettle. He turns, gesturing at you to kiss him proper before going about your way.

A comfortable silence hangs between the both of you as you eat, intermittently broken by the scraping of silverware and sounds of eating. Diffused sunlight warms your skin to a glow, swathing your body golden against the shadows of the apartment. Jason admires you over the tilt of his coffee mug. He loves you like this, tousled and swallowed by your sleep shirt. He loves watching you eat the food he makes you. It helps him reconcile with the hands that made it, that they’re still capable of loving and nurturing despite the brutal take, take, take of his night job. You catch his stare and slow your chews, swallowing.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just lookin’ at you.”

“Something on my face?” You brush off the sides of your mouth.

“No, dumbass. I just think you’re pretty.”

You blink, your brain lagging in a response to dumbass and pretty said in succession.

Your face reflects your hesitation, and he laughs. He takes the opportunity to reach for your hand, kissing the inside of your palm and cupping his face. The display warms your heart and numbs your retort. You exhale through your nose, quirking your lips. It’s impossible to be miffed at him when he blinks slowly at you with those stupidly gorgeous eyes, blue and gleaming with mirth like burnished sea glass. He flutters his eyelashes at you, and all your remaining fight acquiesces.

“Was there anything you wanted to do today?”

He hums, considering. His head shakes no.

“Lazy day in, then?”

His head tilts, interested.

“What do you have in mind?” he asks.

“Well… we could finally do that read-a-thon thing we’ve been wanting to do for a while.”

You pause, considering. “I read your favorite, you read mine, and we can live react to each other?”

His face splits into a wide grin. “Deal.”

The rest of the day is spent on the couch with his head on your lap and a book in his hands. You mirror him in an upright position, fingers threading lazily through his hair in between flipping pages. Every so often, you look down at your hulking lap cat of a boyfriend to check in. Each time, you find contentment resting soft and easy on his face. Your heart squeezes with affection, proud of the little slice of heaven you’ve carved out of his day off.

Peace looks good on him, you think.

[mostly-imagines]

Guard Dog vol. II

jason todd x fem!reader

aka don’t fuck with jason’s gf pt. II

3 in 1 blurbs

warnings: mild standard gotham violence, in the 3rd section: attempted sexual assault and panicky thoughts afterwards from reader

“Sweetheart, this is…not good.”

You turn your head over to him, where he’s frowning, hands on his hips as he inspects your bedroom window.

You tilt your head, looking it over from your place on the couch. “What’s wrong with it?”

He sighs, “Well for one, the lock is broken. But even if it weren’t, this thing would be so easy to break.”

“It’s the lock the place came with.” You shrug. At least it has a lock. In Gotham that’s kind of asking a lot.

“Yeah, I can tell.” He frowns at the window once again, moving over to stand behind the couch. “I’m getting you better locks.” He looks to you, “I can install them tomorrow?”

You tilt your head up to look at him, “You don’t need to get me new locks, Jay…”

“Okay.” He kisses your head, “I’m getting them.”

You sigh in defeat, though your smile makes it lose its credibility. “Tomorrow’s fine. I assume you’re staying the night, then?”

He makes his way to the kitchen as he says, “Well, I’m not leaving you alone here with this piece of shit the only thing between you and Gotham.”

“I’ve lived here for two years.” You say flatly.

“Don’t remind me.” He mumbles as he moves behind the counter. “Actually, your door chain’s broken too, isn’t it?” It is, but that’s his own fault.

You had a long day a couple weeks ago and had a very long, very hot shower the second you got home. Unfortunately, it had slipped your mind to text him that you were home safe and he’d broken through the chain in one try to make sure you were okay.

You hum, “It wasn’t doing much anyways.” Clearly.

He grimaces as he heats up the stove for dinner.

You laugh lightly, “What?”

He looks back at you with a frankly adorable frown, “I don’t like that.”

You’d never thought much of it. You hadn’t had any—well, many—problems living here before, and you still had your deadbolt and handle lock.

“It’s okay. I’m safe here.”

He looks like he strongly disagrees. He comes back over, sitting next to you, taking your face in his hands. “Will you please let me set up some security measures around here?”

“Did Jason Todd just say please?” You say in faux-shock.

He rolls his eyes at you, “I’m serious.”

You sigh, contemplatively. “I don’t want my apartment looking like the Home Alone set.”

He laughs at that, “It’s not going to. You won’t even notice most of them. Just do it for me, please?”

“I’ll agree, but only because I know you’re going to do it anyways and I’d like to pretend I have control over this.” That’s not true, you’d agree to literally anything if he said please that sweetly again, but that’s your business.

“Fair enough.” He smiles, kissing your cheek.

No, it’s not fair at all.

It’s late. You’re not even sure how late but the city has calmed from its usual noises, indicating that your boyfriend will be home soon.

You’re coming up heavy on cramps tonight and according to the mockingly empty spot in your medicine cabinet, you’re out of ibuprofen. Yeah, it’s late, but the store on the corner is a three minute walk and fuck your stomach hurts. Jason wouldn’t like it if you went out without telling him though, so maybe you should wait until—

The sound of the living room window sliding open breaks you away from your thoughts, followed by a clatter of something hitting the ground.

You walk back into the dimly lit room, finding your boyfriend sliding the window shut again, holsters abandoned on the ground. He turns and collapses onto the couch face first, body immediately gone limp.

“Hey, baby.” You bite back a laugh, coming over to rub his muscled back from behind the couch. He groans into the cushion in response. “Why don’t you go get in bed?”

He hums almost imperceptibly, sitting up and rubbing his eyes roughly with his palms.

He stands and takes your hand in his as he passes by, tugging you towards the bedroom. The deep ache in your abdomen reminds you of your earlier train of thought. You pull your hand back, stopping in your tracks.

He turns back to you with a frown, wanting to know what could possibly be getting in his way of falling asleep, holding you close.

“I gotta go pick up some ibuprofen. I’ll be right back.” You say quietly, not wanting to disturb the quietness of the night for him. His frown deepens as you head towards the door, watching you.

You’ve got your purse in hand and are reaching for the handle when you hear his footsteps following in suit. “Hey, it’s okay. Stay here, I’m just going to the 24 hour store on the corner.”

He shakes his head, “You’re not going out in Gotham alone at two in the morning. Put your coat on, it’s cold.”

You do as you’re told, shrugging the coat on as you glance over at him. “Jason, it’s okay. You’re exhausted, go to sleep.”

He ignores you, throwing a sweatshirt on to cover up his armor, and follows you out the door; albeit far more sluggish than usual.

He was right though, the night air is bitter and slaps your face with every step forward you take. He lingers a few steps behind you, honest to god almost falling asleep mid step a couple times.

Frankly, you’re not even sure what kind of fight he’d be able to put up in this state. Though, he’s surprised you plenty of times before. In any case, his head snaps up every time there’s any sign of movement around, instantly on alert.

He trails behind you as you browse through the narrow aisles, hands stuffed in his sweatshirt.

As you’re standing at the store counter paying, his neck is craned forward, resting on your shoulder. You rub soothing circles into his hand with your thumb, though you’re sure it’s not doing anything to help his exhaustion.

You’re walking back home, the bite of the air a bit more forgiving in this direction. There’s another man walking down the sidewalk approaching, hands in pocket.

Jason’s too tired to bother with subtlety, glaring directly at the passerby before he could even think of trying anything. And it works, because the guy averts his gaze real quick and speeds up past you.

He continues working at his post from just behind you all the way until you’re back inside your apartment.

He takes the medicine container out of his pocket and cracks it open for you, wordlessly filling up a glass of water after. You gulp down a couple of the pills, and he takes the glass and bottle out of your hand the second you’re done, setting them on the counter.

He turns to you, eyes barely open, mumbling, “Can we sleep now?”

You smile at his fatigued state and take his hand, leading him to the bedroom.

Your neighbor likes you. You know it, Jason knows it.

The worst he’d done was flirt with you, badly, and shut his mouth real quick whenever your boyfriend emerged from your apartment.

And Jason let that go; he knows better than anybody that you’re heavenly and sweet and clever, of course this fucking guy likes you. Jason set an unspoken rule with himself, that he won’t get violent with any guys unless they put their hands on you. Something he knows for absolute fact your neighbor has not done.

At least he hadn’t until a couple of hours ago. You’d been in the hallway at the mailslots, your boyfriend nowhere in sight, when he decided it was the perfect time to make a move. Make several moves, actually.

You’re sitting on the couch, knees to chest, still trying to wrap your mind wround what had happened when Jason sees you. You stopped crying a while ago and you’ve entered the phase of…well. That happened.

Your hear keys jingling outside the door, followed by your boyfriend's entrance. He’s carrying some grocery bags and has a book tucked under his chin.

He lets the bags slide off his arms, and sets the book on the counter with them, beaming, “You’re never gonna guess what b—“ His smile drops when he sees you. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, “Nothing.” But your blinking feels off all of a sudden, and you can’t remember what you usually do with your face when you’re not lying. It doesn’t matter though, you could be an academy award winning actress and you’re still sure Jason would be able to see right through you with a single glance.

He frowns, “Don’t lie to me.” He moves towards you, kneeling down in front of you. “Please. What’s wrong?” His eyes are worried now, more than usual.

You don’t want him to worry about this. He already worries about you too much and he’s got all his vigilante stuff and…you just want to believe that this is a manageable situation and not a problem. Not something that affected you.

“It’s just…it’s not a big deal, okay? I can handle it—”

His posture stiffens and his voice suddenly goes low and serious, “What happened?”

You know where this is going. “Jason. Promise me you won’t do anything.”

His brow furrows, and his frown turns to something closer to anger. “Did someone put their hands on you? Who?”

“Jason—”

“Who did it?”

“The neighbor, b—” he immediately snaps to a stand and starts towards the door. You hurry to grab onto his hand before he can escape your proximity, “Jason. Please don’t.”

The break in your voice is enough to make his rage falter and turn back around to face you.

“Baby, if he touched you—” His eyes are pleading, begging you to let him go take care of this. If not for you, then for him.

“It wasn’t—he didn’t do anything. He didn’t get to. I hit him and he backed off.” Which is…sort of true.

He stares at you. “In the hallway?”

You blink. “…Yeah?”

He takes off towards the bedroom wordlessly. You follow quickly on his tail, watching him sit on the edge of your bed, opening his computer and clicking through it quickly.

You slide over next to him, and see that he's pulling up a file under the name of your building and today’s date. It takes you two seconds too long to realize what he’s doing, the thought only sinking in right as you see the hallway security camera footage on the screen.

“Jason—” you try to close the computer but he bats your hand away.

He forwards through the footage, as you scramble trying and failing to reach past him, various building occupants coming in and out of frame rapidly.

“—please just listen to me.” But he did listen to you, and he heard that someone tried to hurt you. That was all he needed to hear.

He stops when he sees you enter the frame, watching closely. He sees you flipping through the mail. He sees your neighbor slither out of his apartment and stand far too close to you. You take a step back only to be met with two steps forward by him. He says something to you, probably asking where your boyfriend is.

The angle doesn’t show his face, but it does see yours, and you look incredibly uncomfortable. You don’t answer him, which evidently was enough of an answer in itself.

Your neighbor tries to brush some of your hair out of your face but you snap your head away, stumbling back a little. He uses your lack of balance as an “excuse” to grab onto your waist, pulling you close to him.

Your hands are out in front of you and you’re shaking your head as he pushes towards you. His lips land on your neck and you try to move backwards, but he grabs your wrists and holds you in place.

You fight against his grip, and upon realizing that your struggling doesn’t matter to him at all, you dig your nails into his wrists so hard you draw blood. He groans in pain and his grip on you loosens.

You snap your hands away and push yourself away, locking yourself in your apartment. Your neighbor lingers for a moment, shouting something at the door before trudging back into his apartment and slamming the door.

Jason snaps the laptop shut, coming to a stand once again. His fists clinch at his sides. “That was not nothing.”

No, it wasn’t. But you feel so helpless right now. You sure as hell felt it in the hallway, and it keeps lingering in you and you’re not sure why. You couldn’t do anything then, you can’t do anything now…it feels like all the bad things in the world are closing in on you and you just have to let it happen.

“I…I don’t want anyone to die because of me…” your words aren’t quite matching your thoughts, but this is the closest you can get right now.

He pulls back to look at you, brows furrowed. “It’s—it’s not because of you. It’s because of him. Baby, if I were on patrol and saw him grab some other girl like that I’d do the same thing.”

You know that. You know that. But communication seems impossible right now even though it’s the only tool you have to stop things from closing in.

“No, I know that. I know…it’s just…” Things are closing in anyways. Alright, this is happening now. Your eyes start watering and your voice trembles.

“Fuck, baby.” His hand flies to the back of your head, other arm wrapping around your middle, pulling you to him.

You feel a bit silly, crying over the potential death of someone who tried to hurt you, in front of the Red Hood of all people.

“I’m sorry, I—I don’t know. It’s—it’s too many bad things. I can’t…”

“Okay. Okay. It’s okay. I’ll stay here. I’m staying here with you, okay?” You nod into his chest, tears dampening his shirt.

This is a temporary solution, you know that even now. But you think once it expires, it might be easier to accept whatever Jason’s going to do later.

He’s quiet for a few minutes, holding you in his arms as you sway back and forth lightly.

“Will you forgive me if I kill him?” He whispers into your hair.

You roll your eyes but smile nonetheless. “Don’t.”

“Is that a yes?”

You pull back to look him in the eyes, face setting. “I’m getting the feeling you’re going to do something regardless of how this conversation ends.” He says nothing. “Just, please, don’t kill him.”

He holds you tighter and you do the same, laying your head against his chest again. You feel him press a kiss to your head as he takes a deep breath.

You think on it for a moment, figuring it needs saying, “And don’t get in trouble.”

Your neighbor comes home late that night, trudging through the front door with a perpetual frown. He opens the door to his notably unlocked apartment. He drops his bag on the ground with a thump and flicks on the lamp next to the door. He shuts the door and turns the lock when the red elephant in the room pipes up.

“Hey, bud.”

He jumps, spinning around, “Who the fuck—oh, shit.” He freezes the second he sees him, sitting in the armchair across the room. The Red Hood nods, loading the gun in his hand.

Your neighbor stutters, “What—what are you doing here?”

He looks up at him, cocking the gun. “You put your hands on your neighbor, yeah?”

He looks fake-shocked at the accusation. “What? No, I would ne—which neighbor?”

He can’t see it, but Hood’s face drops into a deadpan. “That is really not helping your case.”

Your neighbor eyes the gun nervously.

Hood sighs, “I’m not going to kill you. I’ve been told it’s bad manners to execute someone the first time you meet.” He glances down the nail marks on his arm and steels his jaw. “No. What’s going to happen is you’re going to break your lease and move out. Within the next week.”

The neighbors eyes widen, “A week? Are you insane?”

Hood tilts his head a bit before shaking it, “Nah, you’re right. By tomorrow night.”

“This is my apartment. I live here, I’m not going anywhere. And unless you’re secretly Saul the landlord under there, you can’t do anything about it.” He crosses his arms, clearly feeling very proud of himself. Well, killing him isn’t the only option, is it?

Hood stands, making his way across the room casually. “Yeah, I thought you’d say that.” He clocks him hard on the head with the frame of his gun. He goes down quickly and loudly, clutching his head, groaning. “The alternative is getting beaten half to death and hoping whatever hospital you end up at knows what they’re doing.”

Honestly, neighbor boy is pressing his luck as is. Maybe it was a bad idea for Jason to bring the gun.

“Fuck! Fine! I’ll go!” He wails.

Hood kicks his abdomen with the side of his boot, though not nearly as hard as he wanted to. “Shut up. You’ll disturb the neighbors.”

The neighbor groans again, quieter. He mumbles something about Hood being crazy but it gets lost under the grunts of pain.

Hood crouches down next to him, patting him on the head with the barrel of his gun. “Don’t worry, bud. I’ll check up on you. And if I ever see you so much as look in the general direction of another girl I’ll put a bullet in your head. Sound good?”

Your former neighbor drops his head to the ground, hand still clutching the growing swell on his forehead.