#jason todd x gn reader

[chosokamosbf]

ᑎIGᕼT ᒪIT ᗪEᔕIᖇE.

☆ 18+ only/no minors. | jason todd x gn! reader.

SUMMARY: a nsft fic waking up jason from a nightmare by bringing him to the edge

WARNINGs: 18+, (consensual) somnophilia, gn! reader, (jason receiving) oral, nightmares, minor mentions of blood and scarring.

WORD COUNT: 1600+

NOTEs: second person & no plot. ["babe/baby," and no pronouns used to refer to the insert/reader.]

Sprayed over silk sheets of a bed with more than enough space, in your all-consuming unconsciousness, your body managed to wedge itself in close to your boyfriend, where your head is settled right in the empty space of his shoulder. The weather hasn't been kind of as late, and so all fabrics other than the blankets pushed to the very edge of the mattress hours ago are short to combat the heat.

It hasn't helped much. The fan Jason had set up on your side to turn in place is losing the war as you're both covered in sweat. It isn't made any better by the fact he's been using that shoulder to cradle your head from underneath, the rest of the arm resting over your chest.

The deepening of this velvet night is broken to a steady close as he stirs hard enough to knock you out of that position.

You slowly blink the fog from your mind and rub the crust from your eyes with the one arm that isn't being partially buried under his weight.

The city pours in through even the smallest cracks between the curtains, enveloping their own designated areas in multicolored amalgamations of beams formed from sirens and electrified billboards nearby. It seeps over the sheets until it's reached the ceiling, leaving Jason's arms painted in its light, giving a full show of just how much they're twitching.

The other couple in the complex, whom you have gotten to know real well from their screaming matches (as muffled as they may be), seated only a few apartments away, have nothing on how loud his heaving is getting.

His face is turned away now, and you get up on your elbows to find pale lids pinched tightly together, brows in a deep, settled frown. It's not a far cry from what usually makes him intimidating under the helm, but there's a pout pulling at his lips all the while.

Recently, there's been no notable injuries, but his hands have found either one of his arms just to hold them steady and prod his fingers into anyway.

Sometimes your voice is enough alone to call him out of his head with how much he loves it. "Jason?"

He stays in place, and you sit up to speak his name into the night again while your fingertips trail down an arm.

This time around, a groan answers your inquiry.

His forehead is slick with a growing layer of sweat. The white tank top he was just teasing you about after catching wandering eyes earlier in the night is stuck to his broad chest, and barely is it settling with every pant. 

"Jason, you okay?"

It's always an uphill race with the few hours of rest he's allowed in between 'work.' Some days are better than others, and this clearly isn't one of them.

If plain intuition is serving you well, it's another nightmare.

Your teeth catch on your lower lip. "Baby?"

Rationality by damned, your voice stays weak as the thought of waking him up properly stays just that, a thought.

At worst, Jason's going to get moody if you interrupt his sleep, and he'll carry that over into the morning. Sure, he's trying to get better at communicating, but leaving behind the go-to of never doing just that has given way to taking hours to open up. Still, he doesn't seem like he's enjoying the dream.

There are a thousand or so possibilities as to what this one is exactly about, and you don't need to be a genius to know that he might head straight to the bathroom to get rid of the nasty pit in his stomach by the end of it. As much as you'll usually do your best to help out yesterday's dinner and hold his hair up if need be, there has to another option.

And there is.

Unconventional as it may be, you've talked about it before. When exactly is a fuzzy memory. At best, it stirred from another night of endless rambling, something to fill the silence when you both were left awake.

Most others he's all by himself when he gets back. It isn't the worst, as long as he isn't bleeding to death. Put away everything and make sure nothing gets on the carpet—a steady tradition. Sometimes, he's left with excess energy, though.

He mostly took the offer with little chance in his mind that he'd use it. The rules were set, and Jason made it clear that it was allowed on either side. Wasn't like he was going to make much use of it anyway.

And technically, he hasn't. Three times over a year or so ago, and each one was a gentle transition back into consciousness before he'd shown just how much he appreciated it: appreciated you.

Carefully, you get his nails to pull away from his skin and settle him on his back again. His shirt has etched up over the night, leaving his stomach and the happy trail growing across to the melt-worthy temps.

Trying hard not to wake him up, you press your head onto his chest, slowly rubbing down on his belly. 

Instantly, his breathing stutters.

Even in sleep, he's so gorgeous it hurts to even look at him, not in spite of the stubborn scowl still hanging on his mouth. Those thick eyelashes frame closed eyes. Instead of them blinking awake, his head rolls back over to the side, and the long-since healed gash sprayed over his neck gets stretched into the light peering into your two's home before he's yawning.

And you exhale softly. It feels as if you're breathing in nothing. You swallow hard—once, then twice—and inch your hand past the waistband of his boxers.

He's warm in your palm, and then his breath hitches while you freeze in place.

But Jason doesn't make a move to break your hold on him.

In slow strokes, your hand wrapped around the thick of it glides across, using the pre-cum to make it easier on the both of you. It's not taking much for his cock to start holding up on its own at the attention, but it's taking up the space you need. Your wrist is going to sting in the morning either way, but still.

Gaining more courage, you dare lift your head and softly kiss his cheek.

You form a better grip around it, continuing to kiss every scar and the edge of his lips while your thumb circles the cockhead. A leg swings over another, and the purrs he's basically humming out by now—his lips sealed in his sleep—nearly muffle how the bed creaks when you move to take place between his.

After grabbing the elastic band of his underwear, you slowly pull it down enough for the length to slip free, already drooling and half-hard.

You lean down to slide your tongue down the side to see if that wakes him up, and it doesn't. 

The taste of him coats your tongue, and you hollow your cheeks, gradually taking it down till it's almost hitting your throat. The second a groan slips, undiscouraged even through the girth, your hands come around his hips to settle them back down more gently after they subconsciously jerked forward.

Musk overwhelms your senses. Your head tilts up to find through lashes that an arm's moved to rest over his forehead.

Bobbing your head in tune with the same shaky movements moments ago, you suck on the flushed tip, the nib throbbing hot and insistent, pinning your tongue down. 

It starts off quiet, but then the breathy moan filling your ears begins to overshadow the whirling fan. What you can't fit down your throat, you use your hands to give equal attention to. Your face slots closer to his taint to kiss at his balls with spread lips.

Thighs flex over and press against either side of your head, clenching and undoing their tense stances every few seconds while the sheets shift with the writhing further up the bed. You grant yourself time to breathe before kissing the head and then trying to take his thick cock back inside.

So deep into the intimacy, your eyes close just to feel a hand in your hair. A sharp tug pulls you off to see the dark curled back over you.

Seeing him from your angle below, there's a thousand things he could do—instead, his nose scrunches up, and rather than rub his own fluttering eyes open, he holds up a hand to block out the stream of light poking through into his space. The other is laid aside as he props himself back onto an elbow.

His voice isn't anything but a slur. "What're you doing?"

"You were having a nightmare, so I woke you up."

Jason's exhaustion rings through the growl that slips. He doesn't need to look at you for long to tug you towards him and press his lips to yours. In a messy drawl, both of your jaws end with salvia glistening over the skin.

They crash insistently onto yours in heated breath.

Although you're definitely going to remember to clean out your mouth in the afterglow of tonight due to the morning breath.

"Don't remember asking for a wake-up call." His breathing stays the same as it has been: heavy while he's pulling you closer to rest his head over one of your shoulders. "But thanks, baby."

White strands of curls stick to his forehead and roll against you. Meanwhile, he's making use of the little space to trace the muscles of your back with the rough pads he has for palms.

He talks against your lips, refusing to pull back even while the edges of his tug at his own.

"You wanna use that mouth again and finish what you started, babe?"

[sanguineterrain]

Could we please get a drabble in which Jason and his partner have a fight and the partner walks out of the apartment to cool off and doesn't think the fight was something detrimental but Jason is actually terrified his relationship just ended?

anon?? are we sharing a mental connection?? i literally had this thought a month ago 😳 it fits him so well too :(

jason todd x gn!reader. tw fighting, jason thinks you broke up with him, misunderstandings, happy ending.

****

"You're not being fair."

You scoff, and pinch the bridge of your nose.

"Fair? This is what couples do, Jason! God, I'm not saying we have to go out with other couples every week, but can't we do it at least once in a while? What's wrong with going to one wedding?"

Jason scowls from the kitchen. His arms are crossed, jaw tensed. "Why aren't you happy with just going out together? You're not in a relationship with your friends."

"Because it's good to do new things, and you're someone I want my friends to meet. And I want to meet your friends too!"

"My friends are aliens and Roy. You don't wanna meet them, trust me."

"Yes, I do, Jason. Don't tell me I don't. And I know this relationship is new for both of us, but I don't want it to be that we never go out with people, never meet each others' friends. You don't even have a good reason not to go!" you say.

"I do have a good reason," Jason says. "We don't know them."

"I work with the bride! She's not a criminal—"

"We don't need to go to someone's wedding we don't know," he continues. "Too many variables. Too many things could go wrong."

You shake your head. "That is so ridiculous, Jason. It's not spycraft, it's a wedding!"

"I said no," Jason says sharply, like he's handling a Crime Alley thug.

You take a deep breath.

"Okay." You close your eyes. "This isn't going to work. I need some air."

You grab your wallet and keys and walk out of his apartment. The train station is only a block from where you are; you'll go to the city square, have some lunch, and go back after a few hours. Jason doesn't respond well when he's pushed.

****

It's close to 5pm when you get back to Jason's apartment. He hasn't texted you, but you didn't expect him to; no contact is best for a few hours anyway.

You unlock the door. The apartment is dark.

"Jay?" You put your things down on the side table. "Jason? You here?"

Had he gone on patrol already?

There's a bump in the bedroom, then the door creaks open.

Jason stands in the doorway, clothes rumpled. You turn on a lamp, and he squints. His eyes are red; the skin of his lips are chewed up. He blinks at you, shoulders going to his ears.

"Are you here for your stuff?" he asks quietly.

You frown. "What?"

Jason points tightly to his room. "Your clothes and stuff."

"Why would I get my clothes?"

He takes a deep, shuddery breath, then swallows.

"'Cause we-we broke up," he says, and his eyes become glassy again.

Oh.

"Oh. Oh no, Jay. Jay, baby. No, no."

You walk to him and wrap your arms around his neck. He plants his face in your shoulder, hands going from your hips to your back and down again. He sniffles.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. We can go to the wedding."

"Wait, hang on. Jason. Baby, look at me."

Jason picks up his head. His eyes are wide, his breathing is fast.

"Why do you think we broke up, Jay?"

He rubs his eye, pulling the skin so hard it turns red.

"'Cause we fought and... and when I fight with people, that means things are over."

"Things aren't over," you say gently. "We move on. We talk. We forgive."

"Don't deserve it."

"Oh, Jay." You pull him back into your arms. He bends so he can rest his head on your chest. "Sweetie, we're not going to break up over one fight. Certainly not over something like this. We can always talk things out."

He sighs. "I was stupid anyway. We should do normal couple things. You don't deserve my bullshit."

You stroke his hair. He hugs you tighter.

"Jay, being anxious about going someplace new isn't bullshit. And I don't want you to go to the wedding just because you're afraid we'll break up if we don't."

He pulls back to look at you. You're no more than a couple inches from each other.

"I don't want to go to the wedding," he says. "But... maybe we can start with something smaller? Less people? Dinner with another couple?"

"Are you sure?"

He nods. "Yeah, sweetheart. I'm sure. I wanna do that stuff, I just—one day at a time?"

"Yeah, Jay, of course." You kiss him. "Always."

[niphredil-14]

Hey babes!! I was wondering if you could maybe write a Jason Todd x reader where the reader gets hit on by a stranger, which leads Jason to become somewhat jealous and a little possessive (a healthy amount of course... 😭). Reader wears a necklace with a J on it which he specifically points out to stranger to sort of prove a point that they are indeed taken, that's when he sort of leaves them alone.. Jason on the other hand has a lot in store for reader, specifically in the bedroom.. breeding kink??? Sorry, my mind is all over the place right now 😭

Sorry it's my first time writing a request I don't really know what I'm doing.. but have a great day!!

Sorry this took so long to write, I've been struggling with writer's block, burnout, and some mental health stuff, also my job sucks ass and is super draining. gotta love retail, huh? anyways I hope you enjoy and also sorry that it is so short. I am trying to clear out my inbox on a random boost of motivation so that I can move onto accepting requests for a new fandom!!

White was creeping into the edge of their blurry vision, and their hands, placed against the full body floor mirror for some semblance of support, were shaking about as much as the rest of their body. Their feet had been kicked apart so that Jason could stand between them as he pistoned in and out of their hole, a rough ebb and flow giving them chance to catch their breath. One of his hands rested on their hip, and the other one on their shoulder. They had been stripped entirely, except for a simply, dainty necklace hanging around their neck. The charming J pendant rested just between their collarbones, and was being forced to swing away from them before falling back onto their clavicle, like a single pendulum taken from a Newton's Cradle and being left to swing alone.

"You look so good like this, sweetheart." Jason drawled, his Gotham accent made thicker by his arousal as he left the 'arr' sound in 'sweetheart' to hang in the air, separate from the rest of the word's syllables. "Such a shame your friend from earlier won't get to ever see you like this, since you're all mine." A whine left their throat as they tilted their head to the side, letting it fall limp. He could feel them clench around him. "Oh, you like that, huh?" He asked, though it sounded more like a taunt. "You like bein' mine, dollface?" His teasing only grew more eager. "You like belongin' to me?" They let out the most pathetic sounding whine of affirmation, which was met with a dark chuckle from their lover, followed by the index and middle fingers of his hand, sliding from their shoulder underneath the chain of the necklace, and pulling it into their neck, until their skin puffed out around it. The sigh they let out was pure filth. "You're so fuckin' desperate to be mine, I'd bet you'd let me breed you right now."

"Fuck! Please, Jay!" They called out, and his hips stilled. He tugged the necklace a tiny bit more, and leaned so that his head was next to theirs, their eyes met in the mirror, and Jason parted his lips.

"Are you sure, hon? 'Cause I will, and at that point, there'll be no goin' back, you know? I'd fill ya until I was sure it took, and then I'd go out and buy you a ring first thing in the mornin.' You sure you want that, Y/n? For us to have a family? For you to really be mine, forever?" They nodded breathlessly. "'S not enough, Darlin,' I need to hear ya say it, I'm not gonna take any chances here." His voice was rushed and breathy, and with all of his emotion, his accent made him near unintelligible, but they knew him, knew what he was asking for. They turned their head, fighting against the necklace cutting into them near painfully, and moved one of their hands off of the mirror to place on Jason's cheek.

"I'm sure, Jason. I want to be yours completely, I want it to be us forever." The softest smile graced his face, as his eyes became visibly glossy, and releasing the necklace, letting its pendant rest gently on their skin, he moved his head down to slowly kiss them as he began to move his hips again.

I meant for this to be kinky I swear, I fully blame my shitty day for how fluffy this is. lmk if you want me to write another where its rougher or something.

[prismuffin]

Hey, I saw that your asks are open.

What if Jason Todd got really hurt doing a mission, and had to get a bunch of stitches and surgery.

How do you think he would react waking up, seeing Reader cuddled up to him in his medical bed?

Like Reader was very worried about him, so would sleep cuddling Jason, just incase something wrong happens. In his past, he died and he when he came back alive no one was there to help him out of his grave. So Reader never felt his side, so Jason could wake up knowing he wasn't left behide again.

This is so depressing 😭 but I think that-

Jason wouldn’t notice you at first. As soon as he awoke he’d just stare at the ceiling, coming to terms with everything that just happened to him. It’s only after you twitch that his eyes shoot down to see you hunched over in a chair that could not be comfortable, your arms resting on the side of his bed, weakly holding his thigh.

He’d watch you for a while, being both stunned and confused before nudging you awake as best he could in his condition. Seeing you slowly open your eyes and recognize his, now awake, self was gratifying. He felt a sense of warmth after seeing how happy you were to see him awake.

He most likely would ask why you were there which prompted you to embarrassingly tell him that you didn’t want him to wake up alone. He’d be shocked but grateful that you didn’t leave him. Let’s you hug him if it doesn’t hurt much and as you leave to get the doctor his eyes are definitely watering. He doesn’t cry, especially not in front of you, but he gets very close.

( all my power was out this morning so I'm not exactly sure when this came in but sorry if it took a minute? )

———

Directory

[l0verb0t]

jason todd × reader. | home sweet home.

SUMMARY: A familiar figure stared at you from the other side of a window, helmet covered in ash. He waved back at you. WARNINGs: implications of near panic attacks & descriptions of blood. WORD COUNT: 2000+ NOTEs: second person. this has some minor plot mentions, but this is mostly just a hurt/comfort oneshot. [no pronouns, and "babe" is used to refer to the insert/reader.]

It was a busy summer night. Off your own sweat, you lifted your head from a pillow. A ringing woke you up, irritating the headache that was swirling around in your mind and thudding against it like a hammer.

Your hand fell to your phone, grabbing it from a nightstand just for you to flash your own eyes with its bright light. With a swipe to answer its call, a certain voice spoke out from the other end. A welcomed change from the bellowing sirens outside your cracked walls.

It hadn't been too long since you last saw each other, but that didn't make it any better. Time seemed to come at a snail's pace when he was gone.

The worry never seemed to settle. You're well aware Jason is good at his job, taking pride in ridding Gotham of parasites, in his own words. You trusted him enough to get back on his own, yet it never helped.

He was late by a few more hours than he said he was going to be back, but you still had to reassure yourself that it was probably fine. Your hope was the only thing calming the scattered thoughts.

Don't worry about it. Just rest your pretty head.

For weeks at a time, he would be gone. Every now and then it happened, and sometimes he'd be late. Just to make sure whatever was on his to-do list was dealt with or, alternatively, to make sure no one followed him back. He couldn't risk it.

Yeah, I missed you too, baby.

A small apartment sitting on the edge of his home city. One of the places he never spoke a word about. One of the few places he still felt safe, even if it was only temporary.

You flicked through the channels that flashed across your television's cracked screen, careful not to trigger anything with the bright colors. Nothing caught your attention.

Listen, I can't talk for long. I don't think I brought enough quarters.

You missed his laughter.

Nausea was building up deep inside. Your head swayed from it, keeping you grounded against the couch. With your free hand resting atop your chest, the beats underneath kept an unsteady pace as your head lied against stiff cushions.

You would've slept to bide the time, calm the soreness in your eyes, and try to get a good night's rest for once, but it didn't work no matter how hard you tried. At the very least, you were able to welcome him back rather than have him shake you awake again.

A horror movie came onto the screen.

In the darkness, a masked man stood on the other side of a glass door, staring down a girl who seemed to be on the verge of a panic attack herself. Slowly, he took one of his gloved hands and knocked, leaving behind more blood with each knock.

I just need to do one last thing.

You switched the channel just as someone started laughing.

The light from the television only further irritated your eyes, yet without it, it was too quiet to be comfortable. You simply turned away.

The knocking returned. No matter how low you turned the volume, it kept its loud echo. It became clear that it just wasn't coming from it at all.

You sat up to turn your attention to the apartment's front door. When you arrived at its step and looked through the peep hole, you saw no one there.

The knocking continued, though, further away the second time.

Following the sound, you came to the windows in the living room. Apart from the blaring, bright billboards outside, only the TV gave light to who was there. Maybe you forgot to shut the curtains as you stared back at a familiar red helmet.

There, crouched down by the window, Jason gave you a quick wave before pointing down at the window's lock.

Why he insisted on only using the windows despite barely fitting through them was beyond you sometimes. They just counted as the back door to him at a certain point.

You were forced to notice it first, the smell of smoke and oil overwhelming you as soon as he stepped in.

The shine of his helmet was covered by ash. His gloves were as red as it usually was. Freshly sticking behind everything he touched, blood stuck to the wall inside.

Without a word, he raised his arms. Instead of going in for a hug, he stuck to where he was standing, looking over himself with a shake of the head.

"Sorry, honey. For the… mess." A scrambled gag rumbled through the space.

Jason's head rolled to the side, and he placed a hand on his neck as he stretched it back, groaning as his bones cracked.

"I feel like ass."

With a hum, you responded, "You smell like ass."

"You're so mean sometimes." He cooed, looking down at you as his hands wildly gestured around. "I'll remember to come back smelling like flowers next time."

Without another word, he pulled his helmet off, his hair sticking out from the sweat. His brows were stuck in a frown.

"At least you're back in one piece."

You ran your fingers down the side of his face, twirling the ends of his hair before sliding it back out of it. A quick kiss was placed on one of his scars. The expression from before continued to tug at his face, but he finally let out a breath you didn't know he was holding in.

He threw his helmet back at the couch.

Hands reached up to yours, maybe to push you away, but they stopped before then. The blood was still there, mixed with oil, on top of the leather gloves.

"Can't say the same about the other guys."

The words came out as low and raspy as they would with his modulator.

He hopped in place while tugging incessantly at one of his boots. After both were pulled off, the jacket was the next thing to go, nearly ripping the fabric before he threw it over into a hamper. The boots left prints where he stood.

"No offense, but you're making a mess."

The boots were thrown on top of the clothes without a care.

"I'll clean it tomorrow."

With the jacket gone, you finally got to see what he was wearing under it. It was a plain t-shirt, apart from Hello Kitty standing on the front of it. Why he was wearing the joke gift you gave him ages ago was something you saved to tease him with later.

He just didn't seem too in the mood for jokes.

As he looked down at you, you saw that his eyes carried bags similar to yours.

"What are you doing awake?"

Since the gunk-covered layers had been thrown aside, you placed a hand on his arm. Where he would usually stay for a moment or two to savor the touch, he immediately pulled away.

"I wanted to see you again."

"You didn't have to stay awake for me." Muffled chuckling came as he pulled off his shirt. "You should head back to bed; I'll be in when I'm finished."

"Nah."

"You're going to be tired by tomorrow."

"And you aren't?"

"I've been trained to go days without sleep," After he threw his shirt over with the rest of his clothes, he pointed at you and said, "You just have insomnia."

It came back at him in a copied, mock voice: "Well, it's worth it to see your pretty face."

A smile bloomed across his face, and a snort followed before he pushed away your face.

"Yeah, okay."

You took it as a chance to stand away from him, the odor still overwhelming.

"Mind telling me what happened?"

"With the mess I made, we'll probably be hearing about it in the news later." He gestured to himself, smiling at you. "Are you proud of me, babe? I'm gonna be on TV."

"It wouldn't be the first time."

"That's funny. Again, what happened?"

Hand in his hair, he began to tug at it, looking away from you. "It's fine. The lead led me to a warehouse around the Gotham River. It was just another rundown drug lab."

There wasn't a response for a bit after that, letting the room be filled with nothing but the sound of his heavy breathing and whoever was on the television's rambling. He crashed back into a chair to steady himself.

"Someone just pissed me off. I went a little overboard."

You gave him a chance to explain further, speaking softly.

"Is that it?"

"Yeah. That's it."

So he couldn't sulk in silence, you walked up behind him to pat him on the back. Standing there, he didn't bat an eye at you as you kept the quiet tone, saying, "You should go get cleaned. I'll be here when you get back."

The chair bent back with a creak as he leaned over to look up at you. It pressed against your front, almost on you, for support. His hand grabbed the back of your head, pressing you into a short kiss before he hopped off the chair with a groan.

"Alright."

You tried to help him into the bathroom. In typical Jason fashion, though, he made that harder, leaning his weight against your hands as you pushed him in.

He continued to mess with you, making loud kissing sounds as he tried to reach behind him. The door was shut in front of his face, and there was a groan from the other side as it did. The sound of running water followed soon after.

It didn't last long, but he didn't leave the bathroom. You sat outside the door with the assumption he actually took your advice for once, still washing up despite the silence.

To settle the nerves, you took a deep breath and got to work on taking care of everything else. Everything in the hamper was thrown into a washer. Numerous holes and rips ran across the clothing, the ends of his collar covered in so many that it could hardly count as one anymore.

You nearly threw the boots in as well. The only way they were going to get cleaned was if they were put under a hose.

You had to get off from your knees before you fell asleep.

Later into the night, you kicked at the door, your hands occupied by a pile of picked-out, clean clothes.

It took awhile before any reply came. He called out to you through the sound of splashing water.

His voice came through strained: "Yeah?"

"I got you some clothes."

"Alright. Get in here."

You opened the door to find him sitting in the bath. His arms were laid across the rims, tattoos covered in bubbles. The tub was still too small for him, and so his knees were folded inside, sticking out of the water.

Resting back against the wall, he turned his head back towards you. It was a little silly to see a guy who prided himself on looking scary looking up at you from a bubble bath.

The clothes were placed on the sink's counter.

"Are you having fun in there?"

"You know me," He hummed before splashing water in your direction. "It distracts from the pain, at least."

You crouched down beside him to lean against the tub. His hand ran over your arm, trailing soap up your skin.

"You're supposed to be getting clean, not getting me dirty."

Through a coughing fit, he laughed. His mouth opened for a second before he shut it just as quickly. Pushing deeper into the water, he crossed one leg over the other as he spoke, "I can multitask."

You matched his position, resting your own head against the wall as you looked back into his tired eyes.

"Can you tell me what happened tomorrow?"

A heavy sigh left him: "Yeah, sure. I just don't like bringing work back home."

"I know, but I still want you to talk about this stuff with me."

Jason sat up, pressing against the tub to rest his head against yours.

"I'll try to remember that."

The two of you were in there for awhile. It was the most you had talked to each other in weeks, making up for the quick calls that otherwise filled the radio silence. You tried not to fall asleep to his voice and were lucky enough not to. The floor was filthy.

[jaozendry]

"It's in the past, it's all over."

Pairing: Jason Todd (Red Hood) x GN!Reader

Type: Fluff

Warnings: swearing, death, torture, trauma

Summary: You try to comfort Jason as he is having nightmares of his past trauma. Jason, as stubborn as ever, won't open up to anyone, not even you, his lover. This same cycle has been repeating since he came back to life. You tried everything, even therapy, and on this one night, you decide enough is enough: he needs to let his anger and sadness out and talk about it.

______________________________________________________________

It's 2 AM, you can't sleep because you hear screaming from the other room: It's Jason. He's having nightmares again. "...Bruce!... I'm here!... Please save me... Please... someone!"

"No... get away from me you son of a bitch!... Bruce is gonna get here... I know it!... No please... Get the fuck away!..."

The same cycle has been repeating every night ever since you moved out with him. You know of his past as Robin, his death and of the time he adopted the Red Hood persona, so you don't blame him. You tried the whole therapy process to make him talk about it; it ended up being a waste of money. Jason has always been the type of person to keep everything to himself, even his feelings. He won't even share his feelings to you: his lover. It took him forever for him to say "I love you" back. Even if you knew he did love you deep down, you always wanted to hear him say it out loud.

Even though it's two in the morning and you have work in a few hours, you decide to go comfort him. A cup of coffee will solve everything; what's more important to you is comforting Jason.

"Hey, Jason? It's me." you say as you knock the door to his room. No response. You decide to open up the door and see Jason cuddled up in his bed, whispering for help. As much as you think this is a bad idea, you decide to wake him up. While you run your hand through his curly hair carefully, he suddenly wakes up and grabs your arm very tightly, fury in his eyes. You try to break free, but he's got your arm firmly with a dead pan expression on his face.

"Oh, it's just you." he sighs, realizing who he was holding. He lets go of your arm, gently touching it, fearful that he might’ve hurt you.

As he stands up from his bed, you sit next to him while caressing his back, concerned. You look at him, almost accusing him as he stares the floor.

"What is it? Talk to me." you sigh.

"I told you, it's nothing. Nothing of importance." he replies.

"And I told you that it is something if you scream your lungs out every night." you say while holding his hand. "When will you talk about it?" He doesn't respond. You decide to lean your head on his shoulder.

"I know it's about your death." you sigh as he immediately moves away from you. You continue: "I hear you begging for your life and hoping Bruce will come to save you. Every. Night. You have to talk about it. It'll get better, I promise. The Joker can't hurt you now, he's dead. It's all in the past, you know that, right?" He looks at you with teary eyes, on the verge of bursting into tears. You wipe them away and hug him.

"Talk to me, Jay. You helped me go through some tough shit while you were Robin, I want to return the favor while you're Red Hood."

He sighs and starts explaining: "I just... can't get it out of my head... him laughing while beating the living shit out of me... me hoping Bruce would come and save me... and Crane- all his manipulations killed my soul- and Hank- it was my fault! It's my fault he's dead! I-" You notice as his voice starts breaking and he starts freaking out. You interrupt him by grabbing his face softly.

"Jason, it's just me. You're okay. The Joker's dead, Crane is in prison. It's just me and you. Nobody else."

He continues with his explanation, calmed down: "The Titans will never forgive me for killing Hank, will they? I mean, why would they? They didn't even care when I died so why would they forgive me for killing one of their loved ones? They all hated me." he goes on, staring at the ceiling.

"You don't need their forgiveness. What did I tell you? It's just me and you." you answer while caressing his shoulder.

Felling somewhat better, he looks back at you with a smirk: "And you're all I need." he says in a seductive tone before reaching for a kiss. You engage back and both of you go on for a few seconds.

"I love you, Y/N. Thank you... so much." he says softly.

"You're welcome, Jay. Love you too." you add as you stand up.

"Alright, since the idea of sleeping is out of the question for the both of us, what if I went to go get some pizza and we watched movies until morning?" you ask with a smirk. He nods at you while changing his stance to a very attractive one while smiling. You kiss his forehead and leave the room.

______________________________________________________________

The two of you, as lovey-dovey as ever, watch a bunch of his favorite movies all night like you proposed. You eventually fall asleep on his shoulder while he continues watching the movie, holding your hand. He later tells you that this was the best night he's ever had in a while. You realize he has really started to warm up to you now and even started talking to you about his problems.

"Thank you, Y/N. For everything."

[inkareds]

The Book of You and I

Jason Todd

nav // dc m.list // ko-fi

✧.* word count: 4k

✧.* genre: SFW // fluff and angst

✧.* warnings: major character death, grief, Jason is both Red Hood and Robin, insignificant talks of drug use (Roy Harper lmao) (inspired by The Book of You & I by Alec Benjamin)

"There were so many chapters that we never got to write."

“Jason! Could you please use the door like a normal person when you’re not sneaking in?!” You yelled out exasperatedly when you hear the familiar incessant knocking on your window.

As you walked over to open the blinds and the window to let Jason in, you already knew he was chuckling behind there. Just grinning to himself, probably proud of riling you up. And you were correct, there as you opened the curtains was Jason Todd himself.

All in his grinning glory. Behind him, the sun of the morning shone so brightly it made him look almost heavenly. You wanted to chuckle at that. “What are you laughing at?” His smile dropped as you opened the window to let him in.

“Nothing, you just look like an angel with all that light behind you.” You shrugged. “Well I do have angelic looks, so you’re not too wrong there.” Jason immediately winced after you hit his arm.

“You’re terrible.” You groan jokingly all the while you dropped yourself back on your bed. Now, usually, at this time, you’d still be asleep. After all, it was 8 am and you were still on your spring break right before starting your first year at University. Why the hell would you be awake?

But then came the grating noise of continuous knocking on your window, which woke you up. Though, Jason didn’t seem to be bothered at all by waking you up, knowing if he had come through the front door, you’d be more annoyed with him as you’d have to walk from your room to the door.

“But you love me.” Opening your eyes as you snuggled yourself deeper in your bed to find that amazing spot you just woke up from, you saw Jason. With his tousled hair, bright blue eyes, and mesmerising smile, just staring at you. He must’ve just finished training with Bruce or had just finished training alone. He was always such a hard worker, and from his stories of when he was still on the streets, he was a hard worker then as well.

You rolled your eyes at his puppy-like smile, “Do I? That’s debatable.” You spoke holding back a yawn threatening to leave your tired state. When Jason physically deflates you laughed loudly. “Come here! I’m just joking.”

Just like a puppy, he ran right towards you, his laughter filled your room with absolute joy. You melted into his touch when he made his way into your bed and snuggled you. Peppering kisses all over your face as an unspoken apology for waking you up. You groaned and turned around to face him. “Stop.”

Jason didn’t say anything after that, just softly snickered and rested his head on top of yours. Letting himself relax after a day of training and stress with his father. The both of you melted to sleep pretty easily after that.

~

“More tea?” Alfred offered you as he carried a pot of tea in his hands. It was then you were snapped back into reality. Quickly shaking your head you spoke, “No, thank you, Alfred, I think I’ve had more tea today than I did this entire year.

Alfred nodded with a smile all the while you looked back to what made you blank out.

Right now, you were in the manor, as per Jason’s invitation, not that you haven’t visited his home before. But this was the first that you were actually watching him train. You usually came over when you needed to do your homework, as you know Jason, the nerd that he was, wouldn’t let you get distracted until you’d finished everything you aimed to finish.

But here he was, not too far from where you sat in the garden, not wearing a shirt and holding a long staff. Going against Bruce Wayne. You knew he was Batman, but gods seeing how he looked under the suit and the formal attire you always saw him in was so different. Bruce practically towered over Jason, yet here Jason was, fighting with agility and precise violence.

It was terrifying to see just how deadly Jason could be. At the same time though, you wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t mesmerise you. He looked, absolutely, incredible. Lean muscle, appropriate to the flexible body of a Robin, fighting against the bulk of Batman. He was grinning despite all the injuries and bruises on his body, and from the look of Bruce. The two of them seemed to be having fun.

"I'm glad you came into Jason’s life.” Alfred suddenly spoke, and you turned to look at him confused. The old butler chuckled, “Young master Todd has always been different from master Grayson. But he has always compared himself to his predecessor. It had concerned master Wayne, and it has always concerned me.”

He paused to look at Jason, you stared at this butler in such awe. After hearing the countless stories of Jason’s new life, you can’t imagine how much distress this butler has seen over his time working in the manor. Yet here he stood, still looking at the two vigilantes training not far from him with so much love in his eyes.

“But the moment you came in, it is almost as if your love to him allowed him to realise his worth. Young master Todd never stopped comparing himself to master Grayson, maybe, he never will. The curse of the younger brother. But with you, he has realised even if he could always get better, the him now was enough. With you he was happy. A kind of happiness neither I nor master Wayne can offer him.”

Alfred then looked at you, “So, thank you.”

You didn’t reply to Alfred and he didn’t wait for your response either. After stating his gratitude, Alfred turned his heel and walked back inside the mansion, perhaps to prepare dinner.

You were left alone, blanking out once more at the realisation of the weight your presence has had in Jason’s life. You know you’ve done a lot for him, but you’ve done it all with so much love in your heart that you’ve never really seen it as helping him or anything like that. You just, loved him. And perhaps that was enough for Jason.

“Sorry it took longer than I thought it would, Bruce can be terrible when it comes to training, you didn’t get too bored did you?” Messy black hair, beautiful blue eyes, and a smile like no other. Gods, you love Jason Todd so much.

You didn’t respond, standing up from where you sat to suddenly kiss him. You didn’t know where the urge came from, except that you wanted desperately to show him just how much you loved him after he showed you how much he loved you every single fucking day. When you pulled away, Jason’s face was a dark shade of red, you know if you teased him about it later he’ll just say it was from exhaustion, even if you knew better. “What was that for?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to love you.”

~

Jason remembered so clearly what his last thoughts were when he watched that wretched timer count down to 0. He only had two things on his mind. One, where in the seven hells was Batman? Two, you. He thought about you struggling in your university courses. He thought about you having trouble sleeping at night. He thought about how he helped with all of those.

He thought about how, if he died now, if he left you now, who would be by your side encouraging you to continue working on your papers? Who would hug you every night you had a nightmare? Who would be there for you when you cried?

Ironic, wasn’t it? He was the one dying, but all he could think about was what would happen to you now that he was dead.

Perhaps that was why he sought you out first when he was able to stabilize his own mind after the resurrection and taking over Black Mask’s operations as Red Hood. He had to make sure you were alright. At this point, he didn’t care if you had moved on or not. He just didn’t want to imagine you crying yourself to sleep ever again. Just like it was when he was Robin, your presence saved Jason Todd’s life.

For the first time Dick was able to actually talk to Jason after finding out he was Red Hood, was because of you. Jason was having trouble locating where you were, and because of this, he became more erratic. His crime operations had become messy and all over the place, it didn’t take Bruce and Barbara long to find out the cause. You had moved away after Jason’s death, Metropolis was your home now. Much to the displeasure of a petty Bruce, but he understood why you needed to move.

Get away from everything that reminded you of Jason.

But Jason didn’t know that.

So, Dick made an agreement with him. He’ll give Jason all the information about you he wanted if he’ll sit and talk to his older brother. Jason agreed almost immediately.

And that was the first step to changing Red Hood from a criminal back to the vigilante he once was.

But despite all this, Jason was still a villain when he found you. He didn’t think he was worthy enough to talk to you. So, he watched. He watched you from your rooftop, making sure you were alright. Which was where he was now. Sitting, idly waiting for you to come home from work.

You seemed happy with your work in Metropolis, which was a good thing in Jason’s eyes. Despite his original frustration about you moving from Gotham, he now realises why this move was so important to you.

He physically had to hide when you suddenly walked to your balcony. He stared at you from where he stood on your rooftop as you looked around from your balcony. As if you were looking for something.

“God, I’m hallucinating again.” You chuckled darkly. From under the mask, Jason’s eyebrow quirked in confusion. What would make you think that? “I seriously thought I saw you, I thought I saw you watching me.”

He stiffened, did you really know he was there? Were you talking to him? If you weren’t, who were you talking to? “As if you weren’t 6 feet underground in Bruce’s mansion.”

Oh-

You were talking to him. But now the him that was now standing on your rooftop. But the him that was still dead. “I wonder what you’d think of me if you could see me now. I bet you’d be disappointed.” Jason can’t help but feel as if he shouldn’t be listening to this conversation.

It seemed like a conversation between you and the old him. The one that he left for dead underneath all the rubble of Joker’s bomb. It felt almost intrusive to listen to you. But he couldn’t help it. A part of him felt glee at the thought that you weren’t over his death yet. That was a more selfish part of him. The part that still wants you in his arms, even though they were now elbows deep in the blood of others, and scarred beyond what his old self would’ve let.

Without Alfred or Bruce, his wounds weren’t dressed as properly now. He scarred more, and he let it. He used those scars to remind him of every fight.

“Here I am, in Metropolis, not in Gotham trying to change the city as you did. Flawed, angry, and absolutely furious at the fucking world for taking you away from me.” he heard the way your voice cracked and the soft sniffles that left you. You were crying. “I fucking hate you, you know that? I told you, over and over again, not to let your fucking emotions get in the way when you’re fighting! Now, look where we are! I’m screaming at the air as if you can hear me and you’re probably just rotting bones.”

At this point, Jason felt his heart twist and tear apart at the desperation in your voice as you cried into the night. “Now,” you laughed bitterly, “I’m hallucinating that you’re still here. I’ve gone fucking mad.”

He couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t take listening to you berate yourself anymore. Couldn’t take hearing you cry anymore. He has to. Who gives two flying fucks what you think about him once you find out?

Just like that, he dropped himself behind you, blocking your path from going back inside. You screamed from shock when he landed, backing up too quickly that your body almost flipped over and fell right down the balcony. If not for Jason’s quick reflexes that took both your arms and pulled you into his hulking figure, you would’ve been the one to die this time.

You immediately struggled against his hold, trying your best to get away from him, all to no avail. Jason, realising how panicked and scared you were quickly took off his helmet and domino mask underneath it.

He watched your face as your eyes watered and your entire body started to shake. “No,” you shook your head, “No, no, no, you can’t be real. This is some sick joke by some villain. What is this?! Scarecrow’s gas? Joker’s gas?!?! Luther’s new weird plan?!” Jason felt his heart shatter. How many times had you imagined him standing here in front of you for your first thoughts to be that you were hallucinating or under attack?

When words failed, Jason turned to actions. He pulled you even closer to him and simply embraced you. He needed it just as much as you.

Until now, he didn’t know what made you realise he was actually there in person in front of you. After all, he’s changed so much, and you couldn’t even feel his skin or body from underneath his costume.

Yet, despite all that, the moment you felt him press against you, just like all those times when you had nightmares or all those times after you stitched him up and he demanded hugs, you melted against him.

He was here.

Your Jason was here.

He was alright.

He was alive.

That night, the two of you had a long conversation. A very, very long one. One where Jason explained everything. He even told you about all the crimes he was doing and planning on doing. A part of him did this to make you push him away, to make you realise that he was a monster. That he was a terrible person. But all you did was listen to him and stayed silent.

After it was all done, Jason looked at you with a hardened look. He was waiting for your rejection. He was waiting for you to say that he was a monster for killing all those people. For fighting the people he considered his family. For almost killing his adoptive younger brother. But you didn’t.

“Tousled hair,” were the first words you spoke. His head quirked to the side in confusion when your hands reached up to play with his hair, especially the white tuft of hair. “Mesmerising blue eyes.” Your other hand reached to his cheek.

Instinctively, almost cat-like, he leaned into your touch as you softly caress his skin. He smiled at your soft touch, “And boyish grin?” The two of you chuckled at your statement, easing the harsh tension that settled between you both.

“You’re still him.” You whispered, “You’re still my Jason. Nothing is ever going to change that.”

Jason didn’t remember the last time he cried, not when he became Red Hood, not when he was Robin, and not when he was still a street kid. But then and there, sitting on the floor of your bedroom in Metropolis, with your hands on his face. He felt the tears slowly streaming down his eyes. Especially when you pressed your lips against his own.

This was forgiveness. This was love. He didn’t care for forgiveness from Bruce or Dick, maybe Alfred, but all he looked for was you. And this was it. This was everything he ever wanted in life.

To be in your arms, to be loved, he’ll be better.

He’ll be better for you.

He’ll try harder for you.

He’ll make the world a better place for you.

So you may always have that smile on your face. So that you will never have to cry again. So that you can feel all the love he has for you.

~

“I had an argument again with Bruce today,” Jason cleared his throat, “It ended quicker than usual though. Bet you’re proud of me.” He chuckled before moving on to the next story.

“I think that little demon son of his has finally warmed up to me slightly too. Damian’s a fucking handful, don’t know how either Brue or Dick deals with him. Even Roy agrees with me and he’s the one with a kid. Don’t get me wrong though, Lian’s nothing like Damian. She’s actually good-natured and not a trained fucking assassin. I swear that brat is aiming to kill me every night.”

Jason stopped to exhale, letting the winter air make his breath a puff of smoke. “Speaking of Harper, he’s actually here with me. He’s in the car though, probably doesn’t want to stand here with me in the cold. Fucking pussy. You remember the first time you met him?” Jason let out a loud bark of laughter at the sudden memory.

“You were half drunk after going out with your friends and we barged into your apartment all bloody and shit. I remember Harper being kind of impressed that you were still able to stitch straight lines even when you couldn’t even walk in straight lines. Though you did fuck up the stitch on his shoulder. He got pissy about that one when we got back. Complaining how all my stitches were perfect and he had some fucked up ones.”

Silence.

He’s done this so many times that he didn’t expect anything more than silence. It wasn’t possible anyways. But every time, he wishes that what he did to you that day on the balcony would happen to him.

Jason then let out a shaky sigh, if Roy was here, he’d make an excuse on how it was because of the cold. A petty excuse and a flat-out lie, Roy would know that much. But he’d probably pretend to buy into the lie just to make Jason happy. He was a good person, an even better friend.

“We both miss you,” he struggled to say the next part, “Well, maybe me more than him. But that’s only cause he’s known you for such a short time. When both him and I were still fuck ups, you were always there. Alfred would scold me if he heard what I’m about to say but he’s not here so fuck it, right?” Jason paused, almost as if a part of him was still expecting you to answer.

Even though he knew you couldn’t.

“You were always there for us.” he choked out as his knees gave to his sorrows and buckled. He crouched in front of the stone, holding it for dear life as he placed his forehead on the cold surface. “You were always there for me, where was I when you needed me?”

“I know it wasn’t anything I could’ve prevented, but I just hoped you were able to see me now, you know? I’m not a fuck up anymore, love. I’m not-” His voice cracked, and just like every time he’s been to this burial site, he cracked and cried. “I’m not- I’m not a fuck up anymore. I’m finally back to being your Jason. Your Jason that you loved so much, and you’re not even here to see it.”

That was the moment he let everything go, sobs wracked his body as he held onto the tombstone. A simple name engraved in it, a simple stone in the middle of nowhere. The plot of land itself belonged to the Waynes, but it was far away from any of the filth and muck of Gotham.

It was his gift for you. This land will always be yours. Your final resting ground and your final home.

“You’re not here.” he kept muttering. Shutting his eyes to stop the tears didn’t help, his grief flooded through his body.

After a few years of your death, it had become rare for him to cry during his visits anymore. Even if back then he’d visit much more often. Today was a special day, the day of your death. An unpreventable death that he couldn’t have prevented. But it didn’t matter to Jason.

In a way, you had been the one to resurrect Jason. Memories of you were the thing keeping his head afloat when the memories of everything else would melt and stitch together. Your laughter was the thing keeping a smile on his face after the harshest of nights dealing with terrible people, whether that was villains or Bruce. Your touch, your love, your warmth, everything about you was the thing that kept him from going insane back when he was still a shell of a man.

You stayed with him. Every time he asks for forgiveness from you after every heinous act he’s done, you’ll always reassure him. You’ll always say you still loved him. And every single time he would whisper that one day he’ll make sure he actually deserves your forgiveness.

Like an addict finally sober. He swore to himself that if Roy could sober up, then he himself could be a better person for you. Every time, you’d say you’ll wait patiently, that you didn’t care how long it took. You promised him you’d wait till he truly believes he deserves your love.

But you lied. And that was probably the only thing Jason hated about you.

Even if you didn’t know it then, you lied.

He was better now. Sure, he, Bruce, Dick, and Tim would still butt heads every now and again. But he actually goes to the mansion every so often now. Sure, maybe there’ll be times when his violence would cause Batman to cringe. But it wasn’t led by his emotions anymore. He was, good now.

He finally believed that he was worthy of your love now. But now, you weren’t even here to give or receive all the love you both have for one another.

Jason didn’t know how long he’s been there, just crouched in front of your gravestone, crying. It was Roy who snapped him out of it. Roy placed his hand on Jason’s shoulder and told him how dark it was getting. They’d have patrol soon and he didn’t want to deal with a cranky Batman or Green Arrow if either of them were late. Jason was grateful for the unspoken words hidden between the lines of Roy’s excuse.

Because the real reason Roy wanted to get back early was so that Jason could freshen up. Get rid of the puffiness in his eyes before patrol.

The two of them walked away from the grave pretending the redness was because of the cold, with Jason’s hair tousled from the way he grabbed his roots in anger, only to then rub the remaining tears away from his blue eyes, and finally preparing to put on a shit-eating grin in patrol.

When Roy himself started crying, he commented how odd it was that it had started raining. Jason agreed.

This genuinely made me so sad to write esp when I re read everything and I realised just how gut wrenching it was :')

[reaperintheroses]

Across the Ballroom

Jason Todd x GN!Reader Word Count: 332 Warnings: none really, drinking champagne, mentions of attire having pockets but lord knows if I'm going to a fancy gala and wearing a dress it better have effing pockets. A/N: For the lovely @citrinesparkles who I promised a lovely little fluff drabble to if she finished her finals in one piece. Hypothetically citrine I love you.

The cameras flashed across your face as you nodded to the doorman in front of you, waiting anxiously to get out of the cold. You were ready to get this over and done with, wanting to just quickly show face and offer support to your boyfriend's family before quickly leaving. Jason wasn’t even going to be here anyway. You muttered your soft thanks before walking into the ballroom, making a beeline for the wall. You had no intention of making small talk. You stopped a waiter and clumsily grabbed a glass of, no doubt expensive, champagne. You leaned against the bar, sipping on the flute letting your eyes wander around. You quickly scanned over the room before stopping and backtracking your gaze and settling on your boyfriend who wasn’t even supposed to be here. You shook your head before looking again to make sure that you weren’t imagining things. He seemed to be in his natural element, chatting with two of his brothers and a few of Bruce’s business partners. You felt your anger and frustration soften as you let your gaze track across his features. You tilted your head as you studied your lover. He tossed his head back in laughter and as he picked it up he made eye contact with you. You swallowed like a nervous teenager looking at their crush as his eyes softened as they looked at you. You lifted your hand in a tiny wave as you smiled at him, leaning further into the bar counter as you continued to watch him. He smiled back and turned to his conversation wiggling his fingers in a subtle gesture only you would notice. You drained your champagne flute and set it on the counter as you felt a buzz from your pocket. You grabbed your phone and unlocked it. “You look lovely tonight, doll.” You blushed and shoved your phone back in your pocket without bothering to reply to the text message. Tonight was beginning to shape up indeed.

[in-som-niyah]

ok another floating thought:

Jason Todd does not tolerate bad eating habits.

Iced coffee for breakfast? Absolutely not.

6pm and you had not a single sip of water? Forget it.

Having a single slice of toast for lunch AND dinner? Naur babes.

You will be eating 3 square meals a day will allowance for snacks and 'happy foods' as he likes to call them.

As soon as you complain about a headache, stomachache, light-headedness, fatigue he will tell you to go fucking eat something with a glass of water, not coffee.

Its even worse if you live together like i strongly believe he would wake up early just to make you a balanced breakfast before you go about your day.

GOD BUT IF UR IN UNI??? babe be ready bc he will break into your dorm to bring u food that he cooked u himself. (he's a loverboy duh)

no time to cook or order? He's gotchu

too tired? already on the way

exam season with barely any time to take a breath? already on it babe he'll spoonfeed you while you revise your textbook

and plus, how else are you supposed to grow as big and strong as him when you're only eating half a meal a day?

I WANNA MUNCH ON HIS MOOSCLES SO BAD FUCKKKKK

[indulgentdaydream]

BEEN WAITING FOR THIS BESTIE

what about a tired and very touch-starved jason wakes up at like 2pm and fem!reader is out of bed??? and he comes and finds them and throws them over his shoulder and brings them back to bed???? because why would you leave jaybean by himself????? unnacceptable???

THIS IS SO ADORABLE WHAT

And the idea of people waiting for my requests to be open is so weird like… what do you mean you wanna read my writings and hear my thoughts??? Y’all make me smile so much I swear

Side note: I’m so sorry this is a month late. And then also another day late than I said I would post.

Side side note: if y’all saw me post this without the photo header…. No you didn’t

M.I.A

Jason Todd x gn!Reader || Domestic Fluff || Word Count: 758

Warnings: not completely proofread. Gun mention.

Jason’s pulled himself out of a bad dream. Not quite a nightmare, though something eerily close.

It was one of those rare nights that he had off of patrol. One he where the two of you got to eat dinner together, watch some TV, get ready for bed, then fall asleep in your shared bed. He enjoyed the chances when he got them.

He laid on his stomach under the comfortably heavy duvet. His left arm was bent beneath his pillow, his hand grazing the hidden .44 he had convinced you to let him keep there, the other arm laying in front of him. He kept his eyes closed, clinging to his last tendrils of sleep.

All he needed was you back in his arms and his dreams would turn good again, filled with the smell of your soap and hints of faded perfume.

Slowly, he stretches his right arm out across the sheets, sleepily searching for your form. It drags along the sheets, his entire body only half-asleep.

He’s aware that there’s this… itch in his skin. Not a physical itch. An itch that can only be satisfied by having your arms around him again.

Jason Todd doesn’t count sheep. He counts your heart beats or your breathing. Sometimes both.

He must be laying further to the edge of his side of the bed than he thought. Usually, he doesn’t have to reach this far to get to you when you two drift apart in your sleep.

His hand grazes the wall. His eyes shoot open.

You aren’t in bed.

He pushes himself up with his elbows. A tired, confused, and slightly panicked frown settled on his face, his hair mussed up and flat on one side of his head.

The bedroom window is closed. The door is cracked open.

Then he notices the sound of the tap running in the kitchen.

Jason gets up and out of bed, moving languidly. He pads his way out of the bedroom and into the hallway.

His eyes squint at the light you had turned on as he stands in the doorway. All foggy panic he felt before faded away at the sight of you, filling a glass with water, standing in one of his shirts.

He shuffles his feet. A purposeful noise that he wouldn’t otherwise make as he went about his day, one to get your attention.

You turn around, your glass of water in your hand. You take notice of your boyfriend’s large stature filling the entryway, a sleepy pout on his lips. You give him a smile. He can tell you're trying not to laugh at his fatigued state.

“Want a glass, too?”

Jason shakes his head. He makes his way across the kitchen, his brows still furrowed against the light.

He just wants you back in bed with him.

He reaches for your glass after you sip from it. You hand it to him. Jason takes the cold glass in his right hand, bends down a little, and wraps his left arm tight around the bottom of your bum. He stands back up, now with you draped over his shoulder.

You squeal out a fit of laughter, "Jay!"

He flicks off the light as he exits the kitchen, makes his way back into the hall, then kicks the door to your bedroom shut as he carries you in.

Gently, he sets you back down on the edge of the bed. Once you're properly seated, he hands your water back for you to finish. Seeing your bright smile makes his own lips tug into a small one.

Jason rakes his hands through his hair as you drink. He rubs his hands over his face, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes from a moment, trying to shake a bit of the sleep still clinging to him.

You hand him back the nearly finished glass of water. He watches you shuffled back under the covers, moving over to the wall-side. Your side. He finishes off the last two gulps of your water and sets the glass on the night stand.

He follows you under the covers, immediately pulling you close. He presses a kiss to your cheek and drops his head into the crook of your neck, an arm draped around your waist, the other tucked under his pillow. He kisses your shoulder and gently squeezes your waist once.

Your arms settle around him, "If you wanted cuddles you could’ve just asked, you know."

Jason only grumbles an incoherent response. He shuffles and presses closer to you, holding you tight.

You kiss his forehead and Jason starts to count.

Ahh!! I hope you like! This is lowkey rushed.

Also you can catch my personal headcanon of how Jason WILL keep his bed, with or without you in it, as far away from the window and door as possible. And you best believe that when you two share, you're getting the wall side so he can act as a barrier for any possible danger that may come in.

[ivysangel]

Jason Todd has a raging size kink. He tries not to make it too obvious in public, tries to pretend that he doesn't notice how standing next to you really highlights just how large he really is. But it's always on his mind, always front and center, even when he doesn't want it to be.

He'll have a hand on your back as he ushers you through crowded parts of Gotham, trying not to think about how large his hands are and how one of them can cup an entire asscheek when he's fucking you.

He grabs things off of tall shelves at grocery stores when you can't reach them. Comes up behind you and picks them up with ease while he's pressed into you from behind. He's peering down at you, a soft grin on his face as he thinks about you on your knees, struggling to take him in your mouth.

When you're playing twister at a Wayne family function, and you end up falling on each other during a wrong move, he watches you break out into a fit of laughs while he turns red in the face. Not from embarrassment, he couldn't care less about that, but because the first thought that popped into his head as you were pinned under him was how much he wished you could stay there.

For a split second, an image is projected into his mind of you squirming beneath him as he puts all of his weight on you. All 200+ pounds keeping you firmly in place as he fucks you good and deep just how you like.

He's scrambling to get off of you now; a shade of crimson akin to the one he dons at night colors the visible parts of his body, and he clears his throat awkwardly as he helps you to your feet.

"In hindsight, he should've played with one of us," Dick says from the couch. He's gesturing toward you when he continues, "he's just too big in comparison. Throw's everything off."

Jason doesn't hear the second part. His ears start ringing the moment he's reminded that everyone else is aware of how big he is next to you, and he's very quickly calculating how many more rounds of twister he has to go before the two of you can politely duck out and head home for a more...intimate version of the game.

[chosokamosbf]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝕺𝖋 𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝕭𝖔𝖔𝖙.

☆ 18+ only/no minors. | jason todd x gn! reader.

SUMMARY: a nsft fic about brat taming with a needy jason who's trying to make up for an argument. in his own way.

WARNINGs: 18+, dom! gn! reader, sub! jason, no penetration, brat taming, shoe humping/grinding, (minor, on reader's part) degradation & praise, (minor, on reader's part) slapping, partial nudity & begging on jason's end.

WORD COUNT: 1700+

NOTEs: second person & no plot. first smut & not beta'd. this insert is more of a mean type until the end. [guy, and no pronouns used to refer to the insert/reader.]

It's never easy to get him into that 'sub' mindset. He's always catching on to exactly what you're doing. At every turn, he's struggling against you, making sure there isn't a moment of vulnerability with how easy it can be to crack down the tension into something enjoyable. Sometimes.

The mere thought of giving away someone else that control is enough to stir nausea in the pit of his stomach.

And it stays there. For days, if it wants. Jason's head never makes it easy. Even through the fog that wraps around him in the most gentle manner that can be mustered, the worst possibilities always stand at the back of it. It makes him regret even letting himself be touched; no matter how much he's reassured you'll never take advantage of what's given.

The other half of the time, he craves it like air.

Finally, it's not only the ache. His head doesn't have to be caught on solely about how bad his legs are still burning up on the inside, be it from patrol or whatever the hell else he was doing, because he can grasp onto the sweat-slicked memories that came with the previous day despite it. 

The sting remains, and yet. Wounds are carefully tended to afterwards, and bite marks from a completely separate source are kissed until enough is enough, and you are pushed away with whatever laughter his sore throat can still give.

Today is one of the better ones.

The earlier thoughts aren't biting away at what can be considered rational. His heart isn't running a marathon in the cage around it, but Jason's breathing is still one of the loudest sounds in the room, other than the bed creaking under your weight as the space between the two of you is closed.

Under thick lashes, hazel eyes stare up at you from the floor, and you groan at the obvious intent to get back into good graces. "C’mon, don’t look at me like that."

The argument that brought up the act was, honestly, not the worst. Another misunderstanding, something taken out of context. Words were left unsaid, and the 'wrong' ones were spoken out without much thought other than they'd dig deep. Compared to the start of the relationship, it's been getting better.

Jason tries with what little he knows and pushes past the urge to cut everything off at the roots. He could've left for weeks—leave entirely without a single message. Instead, he's not going to put you through that again, but it'll never be easy for him. And so, he takes a different approach.

He's on his knees in front of the bed with a wounded, puppy-eyed expression. With the bottom of his outfit stripped, he's left all alone in a hoodie and jockstrap as dark as the night outside your guys's little hideout. The black straps stretch around his thighs, and with his pants forgotten somewhere around the apartment, the bulk of his scars are out in the open.

His underwear gives away at the bulge underneath. Even kneeling in front of you alone made him unreasonably needy.

The remark has Jason nuzzling his head on top of one of your legs. Black curls envelope your knee.

"'M sorry. I wanna be good, I swear," He purrs, and he wants to try and smile to play the part, be cute, and let anything else fade into background noise, but he's not suited for that. Eyes scan over your face, looking for some semblance of understanding. "Feel good. All for you."

Your foot presses against the bulge enough for him to feel it down almost the entire length. A hiss breathes through his clenched jaw, and he lets a whine slip and curls forward, resting his cheek on your leg.

"Hmm—don’t know. You sure you can do that without barking at me like a dog tonight?"

He takes full advantage of the indulgence, dragging his face against you in slow motion while he pushes down the edges of his lips. Well aware he's won, his hands come up around your leg, palming at you for the chance the contact might be taken away as easily as it was given.

The act drops instantly.

"What, you can’t handle it?" His eyes shut for a second before staring back at you with heavy, glassy lids, mouth agape as he practically drools in panted breaths. "I'm not a fucking dog."

In small, janky movements, so it isn't obvious, Jason rocks his hips forward. He stops complaining, though, when your hand comes down to pet his curls.

As much as your boyfriend's merciless begging and apologies are usually enough to get the better of you in these quiet moments, it hasn't been hard to notice how he's been exploiting the niceties to compromise with you over every act in bed.

It's difficult to get him to let go of control despite the obsession and encourage him to rest in a healthy manner once in awhile if it's just so easy to swindle you into doing what he wants. He seems to think he'll get everything he wants with a few pretty sounds, and that's been cemented in his head.

So, tonight—maybe if the cards are played right—can be a good teaching point. Just to show you aren’t going to put up with his bullshit.

“You can cum with my shoe, right, Jay?”

His brows furrow, but then he dips his back to the floor while his eyes flicker close.

Yeah, no. The summer heat isn't kind to the city, leaving your shared room smoldering apart from the fan in the corner, so every motion forces him to suck in more heated air. At the very least, he could be up there with you. It wouldn't be some plain clothes sticking to his skin from the sweat.

The floor, though padded with carpet, is getting uncomfortable real fast.

"Please—please, can you use your mouth or hands?"

And much to his surprise, you press on his dick uncomfortably hard. He tries not to shift in place as it happens, taking in a harsh breath all the while listening to you—listening to the words sink in through his racing head.

"What, is my foot not good enough for you? Little brat."

All his plans turn into nothing. He thought it'd at least take awhile before you'd get this harsh. He wasn't even trying to be that, but it's good enough.

The lump in his throat is swallowed past, and nothing sounds out. Jason shakes his head lightly, refusing to even lift his bottom lip from where he has it pinned under his teeth.

"Good. Then hump my foot." He lets out a pitiful whimper, hoping to coax some sympathy out of you.

It doesn’t work. So slowly, he pushes his hips forward and back.

And he does that for awhile, and it doesn't even feel that good. It's embarrassing being forced to listen to himself heave through every breath.

Gradually, pre-cum soaks through the jockstrap. It makes it easier, but it's still a fucking shoe. It's all he can focus on. He struggles to not dig his fingers into the thick of your leg, to get his mind to focus on anything else but the sting that comes with moving them at all. His knuckles are pressed firmly against the wrap around them—his knees hurt.

He's cursing himself out in his own head. It doesn't help with the burn at the edge of his lids, obviously.

He wipes the beginning of the waterworks against your pants, doing it along with each drag so it isn't too clear what he's doing while his forehead is pressed to your knee, but it doesn't stop. So, he spares himself a bit of the shame and tries to use it to garner some pity.

"Please, please—"

"Do you even know what you're begging for?" You know what he's doing. As hard as it is to ignore the pretty sobs that always distress you, you continue, "What are you crying for, brat?"

He really should've taken that glass earlier without letting his thoughts get the better of him, forgetting everything else you've done for him in the years you've known each other in favor of an intrusive thought.

Jason's voice sounds as rough as it feels as he wails and grips your leg tighter. "Please—touch me. Touch me; I'll be good."

"You sure? You going to listen for once?" You lightly push down on his bulge once again, and that just gets him to grind more frantically in the moment.

A light slap comes over the side of his face, and finally he peers up at you while your hand comes around to tilt his face up by the jaw. Your thumb runs over the streaks of tears, drying that part as you make sure his attention is on you alone.

"You gonna be a good boy for me and listen to me?"

His eyes seal after a moment.

And then a groan slips by undeterred. He leans into your hand, nodding while he does. His hips buckle without any protest, grounding against the leather of your shoe, because if he doesn't do something fast, the heat building up in his stomach is going to burst into nothing but a spark.

Your voice draws him in further: "Alright then, then do what I said."

The last few stray drops are dried by your pants. And just like that, he is cumming. You rub against his clothed cock, coaxing him through the short scene of euphoria as his cum leaks through the underwear.

It's not much, but it helps to glide your shoe nicely over the twitching length.

You don’t stop the stroking, and he begins to hiccup at the overstimulation. Jason doesn't do anything but shudder in response; he can't bring himself to. As much as it'd be nice to pull away now, the top of your hand is inching into his hair, your fingers brushing through it just barely.

Your foot eases off.

Once he catches his breath, the long sleeves of a hoodie wrap around your leg wholly, and during that, he uses it as a clutch while practically collapsing forward.

"There’s my boy."

With the exhaustion wrecking him altogether, Jason lets himself smile without punishment for once. His head begins to nuzzle into the warmth of your hand.

[sanguineterrain]

Hi Sanne! I'm not sure if requests are open, but if you're up to it I'd like to request red hood x reporter! Maybe reporter reader is getting too close to a case and is starting to become a target and hood takes her protection into his own hands? ((Including lots of midnight rendezvous and rooftop bump ins))

i love this prompt sm! i've been thinking about a reporter reader ever since i read task force z :) thanks for requesting!

jason todd x gn!reporter!reader. tw: reader is attacked (but they're okay), guns, violence, fighting, jason being both a force to be reckoned with and a big softie. 2.5k words

****

"I don't need protection."

The Red Hood crosses his arms. You cross yours right back.

"Yes, you do," he says.

"No, I don't. I've lived in Gotham my whole life. I can take care of myself."

"Living around and being in the thick of violence are very different. You're already chasing this story; they will come after you."

And what a story it is. The story of the decade, at the very least. A task force of formerly-dead Arkham patients wielded against Gotham by a mysterious benefactor.

It's terrifying. It's dangerous. It's sure to win you your first Pulitzer.

And it all means absolutely nothing if the Red Hood keeps wrapping you in red tape.

Your jaw ticks. "This is my story, Hood. You can't turn it in, so I will. And I won't be scared off by some slimeball."

"Oh, please. You wouldn't even have known about this story if it wasn't for me, smarty."

Smarty. His favorite moniker for you because, according to him, you think you know everything.

Working with the Red Hood has been an unfortunate side effect of chasing your prize-winning story. Not only is he wanted in twenty-six countries (you Googled it) and is a ruthless crime lord (supposedly formerly, but you're doubtful), but worst of all, he's got an attitude to match yours.

He's also built like a tank, which is why you can't just. Outrun him.

"I can't just not publish the story," you say.

"I don't want to stop you from publishing the story. Hence the protection."

"I can't afford a bodyguard."

"Well, it's a good thing I already paid my rent this month."

You scoff. "The Gotham Gazette has a strict 'no armed and dangerous' policy. I'm afraid we all have to leave our gun-toting vigilantes at home."

You open the driver's door of your car, ready to end the conversation here and now. Hood calmly closes the door with his hip and leans.

You glare. "Get off of my car."

"Fact." He holds up a finger. "These kinds of people always strike before the story comes out. They know you're scared and stressed, and they wanna do it before the story gets out. Otherwise, it's obvious who killed who."

"And where did you read this fact? Crime Lord's Digest? We don't even know if they know I'm the reporter who broke into the lab."

"Listen, smarty, I've been in this game a lot longer than you. I know how they operate," he says, finally getting off of your car, only to lean on the hood. Jerk. "It's only a matter of time before whoever's behind this snuffs you out."

"I am not letting a wanted criminal nest in my apartment!"

"That's why I'd be there."

"I was talking about you, Hood."

"Funny."

"I'm not joking. Look, I appreciate your... help." You try not to show your exasperation. "But there's no way I'm inviting you over to my apartment. That'll set off more alarms. If anything happens, I'll call you. Until then, stay away. Deal?"

Hood looks you over.

"Hm. You're awfully comfortable with giving me orders, smarty."

Your adrenaline spikes for a second. But it quickly calms. You've worked with Hood for a month now. Sure, you were petrified the first week, but it quickly dissipated. You've fallen into an odd camaraderie with him.

It's actually kind of nice, having him on your side. No one at the Gazette gives you the time of day. You've become used to having a partner. Not that you'd ever tell him that.

"You take orders so well, I can't help but dole them out," you say, only a little smirky.

"Watch it," Hood rumbles, only half-serious. Probably.

You beam and wrench open your car door, sliding into the seat.

"See?" you say, turning the ignition. "No snipers waiting to take me out. I'll be fine."

He shakes his head and slides off the hood. "Ten bucks says they'll try by the end of the week."

You close your door. "You're on."

****

As it turns out, Hood doesn't need the end of the week to earn his tenner. Trouble breaks down your door the very same night.

You're on your couch with some well-earned Lebanese takeout when your door is ripped off of your hinges. You shoot up from the couch, chest immediately tight.

Your assailant is masked and isn't that typical, giving masked men everywhere a bad name.

You run to the kitchen, hoping you can grab a knife. But you're grabbed before you can get there. You slip on the carpet and trip further into your assailant's arms.

"Keep still so I won't make a mess," is all he says.

You start screaming. He covers your mouth and you bite his hand. That earns you a thump on your cheek, so hard your vision blurs.

Bang!

You freeze, expecting the warm drip of blood and the excruciating pain to accompany it. Instead, your assailant falls to the floor, clutching his ribs. You stumble backwards and see Hood at your door, gun still aimed. He stalks over and kicks the assailant in the chest as he does. The assailant groans.

"You okay?"

You're still staring at the man who very nearly killed you a minute ago. Blood roars in your ears. You think you might be close to fainting.

"Hey." Big, gloved hands hold your face. You flinch and hold the owner's wrists. Hood comes into view once more.

"Are you okay?" he asks firmly. "Look at me, look at me, sweet. Breathe. 'S okay. Does anything hurt? Did he—"

Hood cuts himself off as he touches your cheek, where you were hit. He lightly runs a thumb over what is probably a budding bruise.

Hood lets you go and whirls onto your attacker. He hauls him up and presses a gun to his stomach.

"Go ahead, shoot me!" the attacker shouts.

"If I shoot you, it won't be out of mercy. You won't get a quick death. You don't deserve it," Hood snarls, and you suddenly remember all of your good reasons for fearing the Red Hood.

"I ain't telling ya shit!"

"I don't expect you to," Hood says, and fires again.

The man crumples to the ground, but he's clearly still breathing. Still alive. Hood drags him to the door by his collar.

"You go back to your boss. And you tell 'em that they're fucking with the Red Hood now. And, in case I'm not being perfectly fucking clear through all that blood loss—" Hood grabs the man by his hair and wrenches his head back. "If you come for my reporter again, you'll wish I was kind enough to put a bullet in your head."

Hood hauls your attacker outside. You hear a car start a minute later, and it tears down the street.

You look at your guardian angel, spattered in blood.

Not nearly as much blood as I expected, you think manically.

Your body aches and shakes with adrenaline. You can't even get enough control to move to the couch.

"How–how did you get here so fast?" you ask, staring at your now cracked coffee table.

"I've been monitoring your apartment since you got home. One of the traffic cameras picked up a stolen vehicle turning onto your block, so I came here."

You look at Hood. He seems very collected, all things considered.

"You—how did you find my apartment? Have you been stalking me?"

"Please. Lend me a little credit, smarty. I don't need to stalk you to find where you live," he says, holstering his gun.

"Are you insane?!" you burst. "That is such a gross invasion of privacy! What the hell is wrong with you?"

Hood looks at you.

"What's wrong with me is I just saved your life," he says evenly. "And on that note, you owe me ten bucks. Maybe even fifteen, considering it took less than a day for them to do exactly what I said they would."

Your lip wobbles. You don't know what triggers it; maybe it's your scratched up door or torn sofa or the fact that the Red Hood is in your living room right now with blood on his suit.

The tears form quickly. You can't stop them.

You cover your face but a sob claws out of your throat. Soon, you fall into big, heaving cries.

"Whoa, hey." The floorboards creak under Hood's unsure footsteps. "Hey, I didn't mean that. Shit. I was just kidding about the bet part. Aw, don't cry, smarty."

A hand lightly touches your shoulder. You lean in, but don't dare to initiate more contact. So Hood eases you into a side hug, awkwardly patting your other arm. He's extremely warm and solid with muscle, but his chest is soft enough to rest your head on. He unclips his holster so it doesn't dig into your body.

"I was just kidding," Hood says quietly in your ear. He rubs your arm. "'M sorry. Didn't mean to make y'cry."

You sniff and shake your head. "No, it–it's not that, I'm just—God, I'm t-terrified, Hood. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? They're gonna kill me! I'm gonna die before I win my first Pulitzer!"

You try to suck in deep breath but it's not working. Hood leads your unsteady feet to the couch. You sit, fingers gripping his jacket. Hood carefully loosens your grip.

"They're not gonna kill ya, smarty. I won't let 'em. C'mon, let's have a seat. Where's your kitchen?"

You point, lashes still thick with tears. Hood leaves and returns shortly. A glass of water is held to your lips. You drink it, breathing stilted.

"'S okay. Take it easy. Breathe. That's right."

You swallow half of the water, and he sets the glass down on the coffee table. Hood hands you a wad of tissues.

"This is pathetic," you say, wiping your tears. "Can't believe I'm being nursed by the Red Hood."

"I think nursed is a strong word. But it's more than I usually do for my informants. Then again, they don't usually burst into tears."

"Don't make fun of me. I'm fragile."

"I wasn't making fun of you," Hood says, gentler than you've ever heard him. He puts the tissues aside and rests a hand on your shoulder. You turn into it, appreciative of the weight. "You handled this better than most people would. You didn't even pass out. Hell, I've passed out."

You're sure that Hood is leaving out important details behind that anecdote, like fighting off a hundred men or being swallowed by a whale beforehand. You're grateful nonetheless.

You turn to him, fresh tears in your eyes. "They're gonna kill me, Red."

He shakes his head. "No. Listen to me. Nobody is gonna do anything to you, okay? I'm not gonna let 'em hurt you, smarty pie."

"That's an impossible promise," you say. "One of these days, something will happen. You can't be everywhere at once. Especially not while I'm at home."

Hood tilts his head. "Well..."

"Well, what?"

He rubs his throat. An old injury, he'd once told you. The pain flares up sometimes.

"I could call in a favor. Get you into a safehouse."

"You would do that for me?" you ask. You probably shouldn't ask. Shouldn't look a generous vigilante in the mouth. But you can't help it.

"I can't very well publish the story myself, can I?"

You shrug. "I doubt that. You have your ways. Once you have the evidence, you don't need me."

"That's not true," Hood says fiercely. "I do need you."

Your eyes widen. Hood fumbles for a moment.

"That—I mean for the case. Obviously. I don't have any journalistic links besides you. And I wouldn't want the story to fall into the wrong hands."

"Oh." You have a strong urge to wrap your arms around him. Weird. "Well, um, thank you. I appreciate it."

"Don't thank me yet. It'll take me a few days to get the safehouse," he says.

You deflate. "Oh. So I have to stay here until then?"

Hood is quiet for a long time. So long, you briefly revisit your original theory that the Red Hood is actually an AI remotely controlled by a billionaire.

"Hood?"

You reach to touch him. He flinches, a tiny movement. You immediately draw back.

Nope. Still a man.

"Sorry," he says, hand slipping from your shoulder. "I was, uh, going over options. No, your place is toast until we find whoever's behind this. But, um, it would be possible for you to—if you want to, 'cause if you don't, y'know, I understand, but I—it would be doable for you to, uh, stay with me. Until I get the safehouse."

"Stay... in your apartment?"

"'S not far from here. And it's a hell of a lot better protected than your place. And, y'know, I'd be there most of the time, so like..." Hood clears his throat. "Uh, yeah. It'd be safe. I promise."

"I wouldn't want to impose," you say, nervously scratching your arm.

"Mm. If you're scared of staying with me, y'can just say so. I won't take it personal."

He does kind of sound like he's taking it personally.

"No, Hood, it's not that. I don't... I'm not afraid of you. That, uh, went away a while back," you say. "I just... I don't want to burden you. After all, it's your space."

He makes a sound that tells you he's rolling his eyes behind his helmet.

"Saving your life is important, smarty. Why you don't think so, I'll never know."

You make a soft, pleased sound. "Got a real bleeding heart there, Red."

He sighs. "Yeah. I'm working on it."

You grin. "Thank you for rescuing me."

"Part of the job. If you don't wanna stay with me, I could..." Hood hesitates. "With your permission... I could get the Bats involved. Ask one of them to house you."

"You mean Batman?"

Hood grunts. "Preferably anyone but him, but yeah, if it comes to that. He'll probably get involved anyway. Fuckin' busybody."

"The Bats would protect me? But they don't know me."

"Don't matter. If I asked them to, they would. If that's something you want."

You think. Is it something you want?

Sure, any reasonable person would prefer Nightwing or Batman to protect them.

"I don't want to stay with them," you say. "I'd rather stay with you."

He jerks like you've told him the sky is falling.

"You do?" he asks.

"Well, yeah. I know you, Red. And I know you'll keep me safe."

"At any cost," he says.

That simultaneously frightens and thrills you.

"Then I'd like to go home with you," you say. "If you'll have me."

"'Course, smarty. Anything to keep you safe. Go pack some stuff. I'll be out here. You're okay?"

"I'm okay." You stand and turn before he can see what he does to you.

Yes, it's an odd thing, being partners with the Red Hood.

You're starting to fear that you can't have it any other way.

[midnightorchids]

Jason likes to read after patrol every night.

He has a routine, he’ll strip his gear, kiss your forehead, shower and have a quick bite to eat. Then, he’ll make a steaming cup of valerian tea and get into bed with you, with his current read in hand.

Most nights, Jason reads to himself, quiet and tucked into his side of the bed, careful not to wake you with any sudden movements.

He’ll read until his eyelids feel heavy, until his fingers become weak, unable to carry the weight of the book. Jason reads until his mind no longer registers the words on the yellowing pages of the old paperback.

When exhaustion slowly takes over his body, he’ll delicately place his bookmark into the novel. He’ll put it to the side and then snuggle further into the sheets with you.

Jason will pull your sleeping figure close to his, unable to stay away and his hands will make their way around your body. He’ll gently whisper sweet nothings into your ear, well aware that you cannot hear him. Then, he’ll let his sleep wash over him.

But there are some nights when Jason reads to you.

On nights where you struggle to find sleep, you stay up until he makes his way home from patrol. He’ll do his routine as if he’s on autopilot, almost robotic. Kiss, shower, eat and then into the bed with you and his book.

This time though, he’ll read out loud to you. His voice husky and laced with fatigue, lulling you to sleep. Your head lies against his bare chest and his fingers trace comforting shapes on your skin underneath your shirt.

Once he finds you dozing off, Jason will softly peck your forehead and continue to read to himself, until sleep finds him and takes over his body.

[prismuffin]

I'm very sorry Crow Anon. I did steal our brain cell, I couldn't remember how to clean my clothes and needed big brain power. ÒWÓ

👉👈 I give it back, I promise.

But, Pris I have an ask for you, that may cheer you up!!

How do you think taking care of the batboys (separately) after they got their wisdom tooth taken out, would go??!

I think it would be funny, snice they're chaotic on their own. Without any drugs in their system.

(Alfred definitely banned Dick "Its faster if I jump out the window to the floor balcony under me" Grayson from drinking caffeine until he was an adult).

- OwO

As someone who’s gotten their wisdom teeth removed quite recently I’d say I’m capable of answering this ask. Each of these scenarios has a bit from my experience ok? so—

Jason would be the type to just want to nap. Even when you successfully got him in the car to take him home all he was doing was saying how he wanted to nap but ong he never even tries to close his eyes to sleep once. After you both get home and you help him into bed the first thing he does after you change his gauze is crash. Which makes things difficult for you because now you have to undress his limp body and move it so that he's not laying down completely so that he doesn't accidentally choke since he's still rather numb. When he wakes up he's sad about the food he can't eat so he tries not to for as long as he can. Overall a very sleepy guy after getting his wisdom teeth removed.

Dick is so chaotic off the bat. Even when they were wheeling him out to the car you could tell that he was gonna be a handful. Tried to call everyone on his phone and when that failed he resorted to carpool karaoke. You tried to get him to stop since he shouldn't try talking but he just wouldn't shut up. Once you got home and tried to get him into bed he'd just be laughing at your struggle which would just make you struggle more since he'd be even harder to move while laughing. Because of the laughter he bleeds all over the floors and his shirt which he only laughs harder at. Similar to Jason kinda because once you replace his gauze he's out like a light, and finally you have a moment of silence for the time being. (this entire paragraph was just my experience and I'm not even joking LMFAO)

Tim would probably be almost the most tame, he'd be very sleepy and would start to mumble about tech he's working on. He'd ask you questions about designs and such and you'd just have to remind him to sit still and try not to talk much. Overall a sweetheart, he listens to you and doesn't try and talk while you're switching out his gauze. He sleeps, wakes up, and eats jello all day. The least of your problems honestly.

Damian would be quiet at first...too quiet, then comes the complaining. He'd be annoyed that he was in pain and numb at the same time??? Makes a song about the pain. You have to stop him from biting his lips because he's numb and is probably biting way harder than he realizes. After getting him home and changing his gauze he's very vocal about his hunger and is sad that he can't have normal food, but he likes the chocolate pudding so it's bittersweet for him. After his numbing wares off some and the pain starts hitting he's even more complainy- especially since he did bite his lip too hard and now it's bleeding which neither of you noticed until then. He's fine if you can get him to stop complaining though.

( I’m so so sorry this took me a minute to answer yesterday I woke up and my day went to shit and stuff happened and I had a mental breakdown and forgot all about this message! )

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Directory

[l0verb0t]

jason todd × reader. | ticklish.

SUMMARY: a drabble about stitching Jason up and what not. WARNINGs: physical contact & slight mentions of gore. WORD COUNT: 280+ NOTEs: second person. saying it now for any of them that will respect my wishes, fetish blogs dni. [no pronouns and terms used to refer to the insert/reader.]

The evening was quiet, apart from his heavy breathing. With his arm resting on his thigh, hunched forward, his head was lying on his hand.

Sitting on the floor, surrounded by medical supplies, blood-stained towels rested on the edge of a nearby table.

"Hold still." With a hand placed on his shoulder, you tried to ignore the texture of the blood dripping down his back.

You pushed your thumb into the muscles of his back to help settle his focus on something other than the pain searing in his shoulder. Through his teeth, he hissed soon after you pulled together the stitch around his wound.

"Sorry." The apology is whispered against his head as you place a kiss on it.

He rolled his shoulders back into your hands.

"It's fine. I've been through worse."

Your other hand trailed up his back, sliding up to the side of his neck with a light touch. Jason snorted and immediately pushed himself back up. It was the first time he flinched away from you that night.

When you looked over to see his face, you found his hand covering his mouth. He pushed you away. Despite the sudden distancing, through the space between his fingers, you saw a smile forming on his face.

"Don't do that."

"Why? The Red Hood doesn't like being tickled?" You wiggled your fingers at him as a tease, but he just pushed your hands aside.

"Oh, har har." Smiling as he pointed at you, he continued, "Keep that to yourself."

You waited for him to sit back down before pulling him back in place. In your head, you noted what happened for another time, maybe when he wasn't busy being stitched together.