#so help me Todd is LIT

[drumsticks-conundrum]

Okay… but can we take a minute to talk about how SLAY Marcia Gay Harden is as Margaret Wright?! LIKE… (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)

LOOK AT HER! I’m in love with the this show! And I’m falling in love with all the characters!!! Especially Margaret (⁄ ⁄>⁄ ▽ ⁄<⁄ ⁄) We need fan fiction worthy of her! STAT!

I mean, who doesn’t love a fierce woman who fights for the justice of the people?! Not to mention the poise and power she exudes…

Lord I hope we can get like… 5 seasons! I love this show!!!

✌.ʕʘ‿ʘʔ.✌

[deadsetobsessions]

Fae! Adjacent Danny, adjacent bc I’m really tired and can’t remember all of the rules.

Even before he died, there was something off an out Danny. It’s why his bullies existed, and why his friends were so loyal.

Danny was fae. Kind of. Different, to say the least. Those who fit in instinctually felt a sense of weirdness, of a just barely there shiver. Those who were outcasts loved it.

It stands to reason that when Danny moved to Gotham, everyone and their goddamn cousins loved him. Gotham was made of misfits, and Danny was one of their own.

A boy who could have been his own brother walked into his store. Danny glanced up at the slight ting of the doorbell. A head full of fluffy black hair, eyes bluer than the skies, and a camera hanging its heavy weight against the boy’s neck.

The boy glanced down at the circle- the very obvious circle- Danny made of polished stones and gems that was placed on the side of the counter.

The boy looked at him, nerves apparent in his posture, and stepped into the circle. Danny straightened. Ah, a customer.

“I came here to make a deal.”

“I see. And what is it that you desire?”

The boy puffed up and handed Danny a written contract.

“The full and complete revival of one Jason Peter Todd, buried at Gotham Memorial on lot #537.”

Danny glanced through the contract. It was as foolproof as possible.

“Very clever. But you’ve forgotten something.”

“What?”

Danny smiled a small eldritch thing at the boy. “There is always a price, little sparrow.”

“I’ll pay it.” The boy said.

“And what if what I want…” Danny placed a thumb under the boy’s eyes. He must learn not to be going around and making deals with beings like Danny. “Are your eyes?”

The boy trembled.

“You can have them in exchange for the contents… the contents of that paper being completed.”

“And what if what I want is… your full name?”

A terrible price. Once you gave people like him your name, you could never come back.

The boy closed his eyes. “Okay. Okay. You can-” the boy opened those eyes again and looked at Danny with determination. “But only after you complete the tasks.l

Danny wasn’t fae. He was almost one, yes, but he was always a little more human than the rest of his kind. It made him gentle. To them, it made him weak. The fae are rarely ever kind, and Danny was made of kindness.

“This price, I will not take it from you.” Danny raised a palm when the boy made to protest. “Instead, it will be taken from your… brother himself, for that will be the nature of his revival.”

“Are you sure you don’t want my name? Or- or something?”

Danny smiled.

“Not while you are within my circle, little sparrow.”

“Why do you call me that?”

Danny smirked. “One day, I might even tell you. For now, we will complete your contract. The price…”

The boy tensed up.

Danny pointed at the camera. “The price will be that camera. You may keep the pictures.”

“Deal.” The boy’s face lit up. Danny grinned with a bit with too much teeth.

“We have a deal.” And Danny released the boy with his- no, with Danny’s- camera from the circle. When he stumbled out of it, Danny gestured to the door, and flicked the switch that connected to the sign, turning it from Open to Closed.

“Lead the way, little Sparrow.”

The boy stared at him… then stuck his hand out.

“I’m Tim.”

Danny laughed. “I’m Danny. Don’t go making deals with people like me if you can help it, kid.”

[robinsfilm]

TANGLED IN RED

pairing: jason todd ✗ gn!reader.

synopsis: you wrap yourself up in jason's red jacket, and he finds it endearing.

warnings: fluff, rushed writing, proofread like only once (⁠+⁠_⁠+⁠)

word count: 0.8k.

notes: i wrote this post-surgery recovery so i get a pass on any mistakes thank you :⁠-⁠P

♯ MASTERLIST ; NAVIGATION

In the tangled web of a relationship, the couple shows and tells their affections in all kinds of different ways. Sometimes, it's the soft, but sickly sweet way their touch lingers on one's skin. Sometimes, it's the saccharine taste that is left in one's mouth after a shared kiss.

Sometimes, it's as simple as a piece of one's clothing on their partner.

It's something Jason never gave a single thought to. Until you showed up. With your honeyed gaze and sunshine grin. The thought of you in clothes that belonged to him lit a fire on his skin. In every crevice thoughts of you reside. Thoughts of you wrapped in his signature color, red.

Unfortunately, he hasn't had the luck to see you hugged by that ruby-red. Not even a sweater in cold weather, not even a t-shirt on lazy days when both of you stay at home, tangled in one another.

Even now, as the merigold rays of the sun peek through the vanilla curtains, hitting the cloud-like softness of your shared bed, he stares at you getting dressed.

It's the everyday domestic tenderness he takes comfort in. Your brows furrowed, focused as you sifted through different pieces of clothing that lay messy around the room. His own red leather jacket barely covers his frame.

“Maybe something more light,” you murmur, turning on your heel to show him the two blouses hanging from your hands. “What do you think?”

In his mind, you could wear either of them; you'd still look flawless. He could say that, but he knows you need an answer.

“Ditch them both,” he answers as he props himself in the palm of his hand, “that's my expert opinion.”

A mix of shock and embarrassment floods your flushed face. “You'd have me ditch the pants too, wouldn't you?”

“You really want me to answer that?”

“Nevermind,” you click your tongue as you finally choose the rosy-colored blouse, bringing it close to your torso.

Not yet close enough.

He moves closer, wrapping his around you. You melt into his hold, but panic as he leaves pecks at the corner of your lips. You can't help but give him a dopey grin.

“Jason, c’mon,” you giggle, trying to break free from his grasp, “you'll smudge the lipstick!”

He settles you in his arms as his head lays on your shoulder, holding your gaze. It doesn't seem like he plans on letting you go soon.

You shuffle again, hand reaching for the peach-colored lipstick. A glint of light reflecting from the lampshade twinkles in your eyes. A sight he can't seem to tear his gaze away from.

The outfit you chose lays undisturbed on the bed. The light rosy-colored silky fabric contrasts with the milky white of the sheets.

You had picked your outfit for the night after many hours of contemplating, and glares sent his way after another failed try of voicing his opinion about your outfit of choice.

Much to his dismay, you don't plan on going out with him naked on the date you both planned for weeks.

“I’m still sticking with my suggestion,” he shifts to lay on the bed, mindful of the silky fabric of your clothing.

You huff, cheeks flushing a deep red, a look he enjoys and basks in seeing.

A little closer.

*****

Maybe it's the way you cling onto him for warmth, or maybe how your hands dig into his pockets, searching for his hands, but he doesn't even feel a tinge of the rainy and cold Gotham weather. The single touch of your hands on his has him hungry and starving for more.

Instead, he focuses his attention on you, and your frustrated tries to keep warm. The cold air hits his face, but he doesn't feel it, the warmth rushing to his cheeks, protecting him.

Walking down the road, lit with neon signs and a few lampposts, you two finally reach the destination of your long-awaited date.

Moving into the small, but cozy café, both of you take your seats. He leaves his jacket hanging from his seat. The scarlet-colored leather looks out of place at such a place. Jason gives you a quick peck on the cheek, moving to take your orders.

Coming back, he spots that his jacket is gone, not left on the seat but wrapped around your shoulders.

Your shoulders. Your hands grip the jacket closer as you curl into the leather even more, taking in the warmth and feel of him.

Red. On you. His red.

“Oh, sorry,” you chuckle. “It’s still cold, even in here.” You notice his gaze on the fabric hugging your frame. “You don't mind, do you?”

“Oh,” he stammers, “no—not at all.” Taking a seat opposite of you, he listens as you go on about the last few days. He can't help but give all his attention to the red that you bring closer to yourself—his red you tangle yourself in.

© ROBINSFILM ﹕ I do not give consent for my writing to be posted or used on any other platforms without my permission and proper credit.

[saltofmercury]

"a.m."

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Summary: Early morning scenes, small nightmare.

Author's note: HOLY CRAP it's been a while! I haven't written anything in almost a YEAR. I'm glad that I've finally got a lil kick of writing back in me :) This is something small I wrote back in May just to get the gears working again.

"a.m."

You can hear his breathing to your left. 

Morning is just peeking through– a soft gloom enveloping your room. You’re not sure what time he got in, or how he got in this time.

“Why do you even have a key?” you ask when he unlocks the balcony window.

“In case you’re not home to unlock it for me.” He smiles big and wide, stripping the weapons aside.

It’s become a running joke to you both on how he decides to enter your apartment.

Your eyes shoot open. There’s a mountain of pillows surrounding you, warm blankets on top of you. The room is dimly lit from streetlights. You're almost sure it hasn't been a full 8 hours and yet—- your body is telling you to wake up.

You turn towards him. You almost never get to see this side of him. His breathing, slow and rhythmic. He looks so much younger when he’s relaxed. He takes over most of the bed. Arms curled above him, he’s wrapped most of the top blanket around him.

The scar below his left eye is raised, his lips are puckered out. A soft moan escapes his lips, then his body twitches. You’re on high alert.

Nightmares aren’t new. The first couple of nights that he decided to stay over your apartment, you were woken up by whimpers and sudden movements. You would sometimes catch them before he woke up and carefully soothe him back to sleep– rubbing his cheek, placing kisses along his face. Whispering careful “i love you’s” and “you’re alright i’m here now”

By morning, it was like nothing happened at all.

For him, though he may never admit it, it was nice to experience vulnerability. The constant battle he has to get a full night's rest. A plague that encases him at night.

You move closer, placing your hand on his cheek, tracing the scar with your thumb. You place a kiss on his forehead between his brows, then over the scar on his cheek. 

“You’re alright, you’re okay” you murmur.

An exhale — 

his face contorts a bit, brows furrow, then an inhale through his nose.

A hand cups your elbow, rubbing side to side. He’s fighting sleep. His eyes try to peel open.

“What time is it?” His voice, low and groggy.

“It’s too early, almost 5 am” You kiss him, apologizing. 

He groans —not even an hour of sleep. 

“Were you having a nightmare?” 

“No, I got in around 4…” He adjusts himself, the bed springs, a yawn escapes. Deflecting the question.

Sleep carefully disintegrates from his eyes. He inhales, and his eyes blink open. He can make your face out in the darkness, the gloom behind you haloing.

His body, heavy with fatigue, he pushes it aside to get closer to you, wrapping himself around you.

Warmth, vanilla, home, love.

“I used the front door today…” he mentions. He's a little proud of himself.

You giggle, adjusting yourself under his chin. His hand pulls you closer, rubbing warmth to your back. His legs warm around you. 

“Wasn’t it so much easier?”

He scoffs, remembering how ridiculous it felt to walk in with his helmet. He had to disable the cameras in the entrance then double check for anyone in the hallway to not scare them off.

“Everyone was asleep… thankfully. I just couldn’t help but think someone would see me, then see me use a key to enter an apartment.”

You smile at how silly it sounds. The Red Hood having an apartment to come home to.

“It’s much better than entering through a balcony window.” you whisper.

He hums, “Entering through a balcony never gave me nightmares.”

Tracing circles on his back, you lull him back to sleep, waiting for his breathing to even out. You whisper more love into his ear, hoping it reaches his subconscious.

[jasontoddproblems]

Longest Night (2)

[AK!Jason Todd x Reader]

Word Count: 3062

Summary: You seek shelter at Wayne Tower with Lucius Fox. The Arkham Knight finds what he was looking for.

A/N: Blown away by the responses to chapter one, which I genuinely expected no one to read. Hope you guys enjoy this one just as much!

Chapter One

The Knight was growing restless. No longer content to sit and wait for news in his own office, he took to pacing the main room of the militia’s makeshift headquarters, thoroughly unnerving the rank and file members in the process. They were all skilled fighters of course, well trained by him regardless of where they had been before. The intimidation didn’t come from the Knight’s lethality alone, but from the energy he brought with him into every room. Something cold. Angry. Impatient. Made worse by the expressionless helmet that would hide all possible warning signs should he decide to make an example of someone.

And so every set of shoulders in the room relaxed as a report came through the radios: “Batman sighting, approaching Wayne Tower.”

The Knight came alive, stalking towards the nearest bank of monitors with a speed that seemed uncomfortably inhuman.

“Do not engage. Fall back out of visual range. We need him to make the drop,” the Knight ordered sharply. “Ambush him as he leaves the area, but I want no damage to that tower.”

“Yes, sir.”

Through the CCTV feed, the Knight watched as a patrol detachment of drones dispersed around the surrounding buildings, turning all guns away as if dispersing from the location to increase the search radius. 

The Knight nodded, clapping his Sergeant’s shoulder in a rare show of approval before turning away. 

“Air transport on the roof, five minutes. Send up the retrieval team. Let’s see if I can teach them how to do their damn jobs.” 

***

Your legs were shaky as Batman pulled you out of the car, and you stumbled along obligingly as he continued to guide you forward, tilting your head up to take in your surroundings. You’d tried to keep track of all the turns, but the speed and erratic nature of his driving had you lost within seconds. 

Wayne Tower took up your entire field of vision, brightly lit and pristine in a way that clashed violently with the sounds echoing down the street behind you. Breaking glass, gunshots, screams, and loud, brutal laughs. An extra shot of adrenaline jolted through your system. 

“What’s happening?” you asked, not quite expecting an answer but hoping for one anyway as you glanced over at Batman. 

“War.”

You thought you’d seen a tank out of the back window for half a second, mid high-speed turn, but you’d been so focused on trying not to hyperventilate that it had been easy to tell yourself you were wrong. Apparently not.

“Against who? Scarecrow? I always took him for a… loner type.” 

No response.

“C’mon, man,” you sighed impatiently. “I’m not trying to… interfere or whatever it is you’re worried about. But I’m a human being, and we tend to feel better when we know who or what is trying to kill us. Call it a quirk.”

That at least earned you a glance before the glass doors of Wayne Enterprises clicked faintly and slid open for a very well-dressed man with dark skin and guarded eyes. 

“Lucius Fox?” Batman asked gruffly. 

The man’s eyebrow twitched slightly, but he otherwise kept his expression smoothly neutral. 

“Yes. And you would be the young lady that Alfred called me about, I presume?” He put on a polite smile for you, and the gesture slightly eased the knot in your chest.

“That’s me,” you said, “Thanks for your help, Mr. Fox.”

“I think we can do without the formalities under the circumstances,” he said, offering you his arm in a gesture of old-fashioned gallantry that reminded you so strongly of Alfred that you took it without hesitation. “We have met before, you know.”

You blinked in surprise, expression immediately falling as you realized where you may have encountered him.

“Not at the funeral,” he said softly, patting your hand kindly if somewhat awkwardly as he began to lead you inside. “It was a Wayne Foundation Christmas party, I believe.”

You glanced uncertainly behind you, feeling weird about leaving without acknowledging your… unusual transportation method. Batman was already half-turned away, but he offered you a stiff nod in acknowledgment before turning his back completely. 

“Umm…” you said distractedly. “Christmas party?”

“I believe you were attempting to keep the Wayne boys in line.” 

The memory snapped into place abruptly, you trailing Jason and Dick in the only nice dress you owned, trying to minimize the damage of their combined mischief. Dick had almost certainly downed several glasses of obscenely expensive champagne when no one was looking. Jason, on the other hand, hadn’t needed alcohol to convince him to terrorize the Gotham elite. 

But that didn’t mean his brother’s drunken giggles weren’t extremely contagious. 

“I didn’t do a very good job though, did I?”

Lucius laughed good-naturedly as he reinstituted the building lockdown at a panel on the lobby wall. 

“I’m sure it could have been much worse.”

“Uh oh,” Jason whispered, his gaze snagging on an entirely too-neutral Bruce who was wading through the crowd towards the three of you. “Scatter.”

He gave Dick’s shoulder a shove before taking your hand and dragging you in a chaotic path through the party and out into a side hallway. His eyes stayed fixed on the door for a tense minute.

“Victory” he said on a happy little sigh when the door stayed closed behind you. 

You rolled your eyes. 

“You know he’ll just yell at you later. And you’ll deserve it. Because you’re being a dick.”

“Am not,” he argued, looking mildly offended. “I’m being a Jason.”

His lips fell into a full pout when you pinched his arm in response.

“Ow.”

“Menace.” 

“But are you having fun?” 

“I’m not answering that.” 

Jason’s smile returned with a vengeance.

“That’s a yes,” he said as he slipped his hand into his pocket, pulling out a heavily jeweled bracelet moments later. “How long until someone notices this missing, you think?”

“Jason! Who did you - ”

“If he didn’t want me to steal it, then he shouldn’t have brought his mistress to our Christmas party. It’s rude.”

You bit your lip, eying the bracelet which probably cost more than everything you owned combined.

“You know you’ll have to give that back, right?”

“I’ll return it,” he promised, bouncing it lightly on his palm as he grinned at you. “To his wife.” 

You bit down harder, and Jason’s eyes dropped to the corner of your mouth, laughing as it started to quiver. 

“Let it happen,” he said, poking at your cheek. “C’mon now.” 

You caved,  letting out a quiet giggle that only grew in intensity as Jason cheered. 

If Lucius noticed your distant expression or the deep breath you took as you entered the elevator, he mercifully chose not to comment.

“I thought we’d share Mr. Wayne’s office for the evening, if you don’t mind. I take my promises fairly seriously, and I told Alfred I’d keep an eye on you.” 

“That’s fine. Is Mr. Wayne there too? I asked Alfred, but he was so focused on getting me somewhere safe, I don’t think he ever answered me.”

“He’s not in the building,” Lucius answered as the elevator doors slid open again to reveal an opulent reception area. “But I’m sure wherever he is is exactly where he wants to be. Billionaires are like that.” 

You hummed noncommittally, looking over your new companion with careful interest. 

“You’re very good at answering questions without actually giving me any information,” you said, tone light. Not a criticism, just an observation. A trait shared by every member of the Wayne family and that you weren’t particularly surprised to note in those close to them as well.

“Occupational hazard,” he said with a nod, his polite smile never once slipping as he led you into the palatial penthouse office. 

The rich, antique decor gave you pause, freezing you in the doorway. It wasn’t what you had been expecting from such a modern building, much better suited to the manor home on the mainland than to the headquarters of a titan of industry. It screamed old money from every corner, and you willed the tightness out of your throat as it triggered memories of a house you hadn’t set foot in in a decade. 

“Not exactly to my tastes either.”

Your attention returned to Lucius as he made himself comfortable behind the enormous wooden desk to your right. 

“Yeah, it’s… A little much.” You took a breath, trying to refocus. “I need to call Alfred. Could I…?”

You gestured to a subtle door set into the floor-to-ceiling windows, leading out onto a private balcony. 

“Of course. We’re high enough up, it shouldn’t be a problem.” 

Lucius made quick work of scanning your fingerprints into the security panel by the door, giving you access to the system and the ability to unlock and relock doors on your own. After a brief tutorial, you stepped out into the Gotham night air, staying close to the building as aggressive gusts of wind tugged at your hair and clothes. You pulled up Alfred’s contact quickly, crossing one arm protectively across your chest.

“Have you arrived safely?” 

“Y’know, I don’t know what’s happened to your manners tonight, but it’s freaking me out a little bit, Alfred. I may even be a little offended.” 

“One thousand apologies, madame. On the occasion that your life is not in danger when next we speak, I will be the picture of decorum.” His dry tone made you smile.

“I made it to the tower,” you said, shuffling a step closer to the rail and chancing a peek over the side. “Thank you for pulling a very concerning string to make that happen. Do I get to know how Batman ended up in your debt or…?

“If you arrive promptly at Wayne Manor tomorrow morning for breakfast, I may be persuaded to tell you.” 

There was still concern evident in his voice, and you knew the promise he was searching for. You hoped you could keep it.

“Well, if anything can keep me alive, it’s the promise of your scones. I’ll be there.”

“You had better be. Master Bruce keeps me waiting far too often for me to waste patience on anyone else.” 

“Is that your subtle way of telling me you’ll refuse to attend my funeral if I die?”

“Certainly not. It is my way of telling you I will arrive with the most atrocious flowers imaginable.” 

“Gas station carnations?” you guessed.

“In the most obnoxious shade available.”

An image flickered through your mind, Alfred stoic and steady, face deeply lined with grief, setting a bouquet of white lilacs on the glossy wood of a casket. 

“We won’t let it come to that,” you said softly, pressing the phone closer to your ear at the sound of a nearby helicopter. 

“No, we will not.” 

The conversation ended quickly after that, both of you wanting to conserve as much of your phone battery as possible. 

You lingered for a moment on the balcony, enjoying the open space and the chill in the air that helped sharpen your mind. You weren’t good at standing around waiting for something to happen, especially when it was very likely that the something would be bad. But this, what was happening tonight, was on a scale you couldn’t even imagine. Whether you survived the night or not, something big was happening, and Gotham would never be the same.

The helicopter noises had grown louder, then stayed steady, and you wished that whatever the damn thing was doing lurking on the other side of Wayne Tower would finish quickly so it could return to circling the city with the other GCPD choppers you could see throughout the skyline. It was just loud enough to be distracting, and not in the way you needed right now. 

But before you could turn away from the city view and head back inside, something large dropped hard and fast onto the balcony in front of you. You stumbled back with a scream, reaching blindly for the doorway behind you as your brain began to process the large and heavily armored man who was pushing up from his crouched position.

Your heart stuttered in a panicked, chaotic beat, and you retreated more quickly, nearly crashing into Lucius who had appeared at the door to drag you back inside. 

“Lock it down,” he said sharply, pushing you towards the security panel on the wall as he remained in place, blocking the entrance with a grim expression.

You fumbled with the touch screen, failing once before it finally flashed green and sent the doors sliding shut behind you. 

Lucius remained in place, never taking his eyes from the man on the balcony even as you pulled him gently back from the glass. 

“Who the hell is that?” you asked, still struggling to catch your breath as you forced yourself to survey the new arrival. 

“I have no idea,” Lucius said slowly, his eyes catching on the guns strapped to the man’s thighs. 

From the waist down, you might have thought this was a military man, but the illusion was shattered by the heavily reinforced armoring of his chest, shoulders, and arms. Plates of metal, perfectly shaped for protection and maneuverability. That, paired with the oddly familiar shape of his helmet, put him in a new category.

“The helmet… Is he like… a baby bat or something? One of the vigilantes get a makeover?”

“No.”

The answer was surprisingly decisive, leaving no room for argument. You dragged Lucius back another step as the man approached the doors. He moved slowly, calmly, the bright white rectangles of the helmet’s eyes fixed unmoving on the two of you.

“What do we do?”

Before you could get any kind of answer, the man on the balcony raised his hand, tapping lightly on the glass with a single finger. 

“What the - ”

“I’m not here to harm either of you,” he said, voice distorted by a modulator in his helmet. “I suggest you open these doors yourself before I have to force my way in.”

The way he held himself, loose joints and relaxed muscles, somehow frightened you even more. He appeared completely confident that regardless of your choices, he would get whatever he came here for.

“Don’t suppose you know of any weapons stashed in here?” you asked quietly, not daring to turn away from the doors. 

“I don’t think they’d do us any good anyway.”

“It’s two against one,” you argued weakly.

“I don’t like our chances.” Despite the situation, his voice remained remarkably calm in a way you envied. “But if you’d like to try, I’ll have your back.”

You looked to him in surprise, finding him gazing at you evenly, a stubborn spark in his eyes. Whatever promise Alfred had drawn from him was bigger than simply keeping an eye on you. And he desperately wanted to keep it. 

“Diplomacy, it is,” you said, but he caught your arm before you could move towards the security panel.

“I’ll do it. Get behind the desk.” 

It was a concentrated effort to keep your pace slow and steady, heart rate jumping as you eyed the man outside, the man you were about to let inside. 

Lucius worked efficiently, keeping his body angled between you and the glass doors as they clicked and slid open once again. 

“Good choice,” the man said, stepping slowly over the threshold. 

“You said you’re not here to harm us. What is it that you do want?” 

“Straight to the point, Mr. Fox?” 

Lucius froze midstep.

“Do we know each other? Forgive me, I seem to have forgotten your name.”

The sound that crackled through the modulator in response must have been a laugh. A humorless one. Distorted in such a way that it sent goosebumps raising along your arms. 

“That doesn’t surprise me. But it doesn’t matter. I came here for her.” 

You drew a shaky breath when he pointed at you, half tempted to turn around and search for another explanation. 

“Why?” you asked softly. “I don’t - I mean I’m not anyone important, I’m just - ”

“Yes, you are,” he interrupted. 

You looked helplessly at Lucius, prompting him to speak.

“She has nothing to do with the Batman,” he said firmly. “I know how this looks, but I can assure you - ”

“And Bruce Wayne doesn’t give a shit about me either,” you broke in, finally finding your voice, unsteady as it was. “I’m only here as a favor to a mutual friend. There’s nothing special -”

“Well then it’s a good thing that their opinions don’t matter at all to me,” the man said, impatience creeping into his tone as he approached more quickly. 

Lucius stepped smoothly in front of you, and you gripped the back of his jacket tightly.

“Don’t - ”

The man did not slow his approach, coming to a stop mere inches away before leaning further into Lucius’s space.

“I will hurt you if I have to.”

“Don’t,” you whispered again, trying to pull Lucius aside. “It’s not worth it. Just - ”

“I made a promise,” Lucius said simply, matching the other man’s slow, dangerous tone.

“Mr. Fox,” you protested.

“She will be safe.” 

You blinked in surprise, looking up to meet the eyes of your would-be captor.

“Pardon me if I have a difficult time believing that.”

But the man was no longer looking at Lucius. He was staring at you. Somehow, you could feel it, through the expressionless face of the helmet. You stared back, numbly, slowly releasing your grip on Lucius’s jacket.

“Can I say goodbye first?” 

For the first time, the man seemed at a bit of a loss, quiet for several seconds before answering: “Make it quick.”

He backed away several steps, turning his head away as he tapped the side of his helmet.

Then it was Lucius’s turn to be surprised as you moved around to hug him.

“I can’t let you do this,” he said.

“We chose diplomacy,” you reminded him. “This is the only way to make that plan work.”

“But - ”

“Please don’t tell Alfred,” you whispered urgently. “Bringing me here was his plan, and if something happens to me because of it, he’ll never stop blaming himself. If I don’t make it through the night and you do… Tell him a kinder story. Please.” 

You could feel his hesitation, even as he slowly returned the hug.

“Please,” you said again.

“I’ll do what I can.”

****

A/N: Anybody else freaking out? I'm freaking out. Come scream with me

Tag List: @letmelickyoureyeballs @anabia-things-blog @ellie-x0xo @gatorgirl007 @miryum @nobodyb183 @anabia-things-blog @justjessbloggin @prongs-moon @smithieandy @flyingpansaurus

[sanguineterrain]

Feel like I’m so basic but Jason Todd with a crush and him having zero social skills and just being super clumsy despite being highly competent when he’s in the field. Crush is like real sweet and kind maybe a service worker ✨

anon u are so true and real for this bc jason is definitely an unsocialized cat when he has a crush 💓

jason todd x gn!reader. shyish/anxious jason with a big fat crush. baker reader. annoying customer. the duality of jason todd. 1.6k words.

also i fully believe that silently leaving huge tips as a way to flirt is like. a wayne trait. 100% that family does that bc of bruce.

prompt lists are here! i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary

****

Business has been slow.

It's not like you expect your cafe to be packed to the rafters all day long, but you've had a grand total of four customers today. One of them only came in to ask where Starbucks was.

Frankly, you're not sure the cafe can afford to stay afloat for much longer. Gotham isn't known to preserve small businesses, and the conglomerates (cough, Wayne Enterprises) are taking over the world anyway.

So today is a reading day. You might even close early.

You're at a table in the back, so absorbed in Poirot's sleuthing that you don't hear the door open. It isn't until you turn the page and look up that you see your resident lurker waiting quietly at the display case. You flinch so hard that you spill iced tea on your jeans.

"Shit," you murmur, grabbing a wad of napkins and patting yourself dry.

Jason (as is written on his coffee cup) looks up from the pastries, teal eyes wide. You smile briefly at him. For such a big guy, his footsteps are astonishingly soft.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, voice rough like he doesn't speak much.

"Yeah, fine. You just startled me—I didn't hear you come in. Were you waiting long? Sorry about that."

"Oh. No, I wasn't. Sorry." He shifts weight between his feet. "You seemed pretty engrossed in your book. I didn't, uh, want to disturb you."

"Oh, hey, don't worry about that! It's literally my job to be here," you say, though you can't help but melt over how freaking sweet that is.

Jason visits you a minimum of twice a week. He's been coming for a couple of weeks. You know a whole three things about him: he's a university student, he pretty much only dresses in red or black, and he's unfairly cute.

At first, you were reasonably wary of him because it's Gotham, and he's so damn quiet. It's a little scary. You thought maybe he was an undercover spy casing the joint. Now you know he's just awkward.

"Slow day?" he asks.

"Slow year, more like. How are you? How was your exam?"

He blinks. "Exam?"

"Didn't you have an American lit exam last week?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Wow. Yes, I did. It was okay. Got an A."

"That's great! I knew you'd ace it."

His cheeks turn pink. Okay, you actually know four things about him: he blushes a lot.

You go to start the coffee machine. "Do you think you'll—"

"I-I have to go."

You watch, stunned, as he hurries out the door. That's when you notice the fifty dollar bill in your tip jar.

You don't know if you should bring up yesterday. Jason's back; that probably means everything's fine, right? You're not sure if you said something wrong, though. You've gone over the interaction a hundred times since and you can't figure out why he's so skittish around you.

"Hi. Hibiscus tea, please," he says, stoic as always.

You prepare his order, yesterday's interaction still fresh in your head. You should say something, shouldn't you? Or...

"Sorry about yesterday," Jason blurts, so fast you almost miss it. "Running out, I mean. I was, uh—I forgot something."

Well. Looks like he's going to bring it up for you.

"Oh, you don't have to apologize! If I said something wrong..."

Jason shakes his head fervently. "No, God no. You're perfect."

Your eyebrows shoot up. He turns red this time.

"I mean—not perf—well, you're amazing, don't get me wrong! Except, like, what is perfect, y'know? My brother has gotten into the habit of calling everything perfection like some kind of sitcom character. Alfred will make pie, and Dick'll go, "Alfie, that was perfection." And I feel like it's such an exaggeration—"

Jason's mouth snaps closed. He rubs his forehead.

"Um, I actually have chronic foot-in-mouth disease. It gets really, stupidly bad. Sorry."

You're trying hard not to giggle. You want to smother him in frosting and take a bite.

"You're really sweet, you know that?" you say.

"I'm really not," he says with a sigh.

"Not true. Can you do me a favor?"

"Anything."

You go into the kitchen and return with your latest experiment: matcha cream puffs.

"Do you mind trying these for me? You're not allergic to anything, are you?"

Jason's shoulders hunch. "Are you sure you want my opinion?"

"Of course I'm sure," you say happily. "I trust you."

"You trust me," he repeats quietly.

"Yup!"

Jason takes a puff and bites. He starts to nod.

"It's really good. You're really—all your creations are—yeah. It's good."

You squint. "No notes? Really?"

"They're perfection, as my brother would say."

Fuck, you like him so much.

"Have another one," you say, pushing the tray towards him.

"I shouldn't—"

"Wait! I'll pack you some!" you interrupt, flitting back to the kitchen to get a Tupperware.

Jason helplessly accepts the container of puffs you shove into his hands.

"Let me pay-" he tries to say, but you shake your head.

"Nope! I won't accept payment for these. Not from my favorite customer."

"Your favorite?"

"My favorite," you confirm, grinning.

"Oh." His ears turn pink as he walks to the door, cream puffs in hand. "Uh, right. Thanks. See you tomorrow."

"Jason? Don't you want your tea?"

"Shit. Yeah." He returns to the counter and takes his drink. This he insists on paying for, so you let him, because you do have rent to pay, after all.

"So nice to see you!" you add, because the stiffness in his gait is kind of throwing you off.

He just nods, slipping out the door as quietly as he came.

Today, Jason's in a red workout tank. You have to make the conscious effort to not ogle his arms.

"Hey, Jason!" you say cheerily.

"Hi," he says softly.

"The usual?" you ask, and he looks up in surprise.

"You know my order?"

You gently roll your eyes. "Of course I know your order, silly. Favorite customer, remember?"

"Oh." He looks away, brow furrowed. Then he turns to you and his expression smooths over. "Yes, please. Thanks."

"Sure. Give me one second? I just have to finish decorating some sugar cookies."

"Take your time," Jason says, then goes to skulk by the window.

The door is suddenly swung harder than necessary, thumping the glass.

"Hey!"

You look up from the cookies. A man in a suit is waving his phone impatiently.

"I ordered a dozen muffins. Where are they, huh?" he demands.

"Oh, right! Well, you called ten minutes ago, so they won't be ready till six, sir. Can I get you something while you wait?"

He scoffs and stomps to the counter. You almost back down, but you don't; that's exactly what these bullies want.

"This is exactly why no one eats at dinky cafes like yours. You can't even do this!" he fumes, shoving a finger in your face.

"Sir, like I said, the muffins are baking..."

"I know the city's health inspector personally," the man spits viciously. "One call, and I can—"

"Say one more word."

You blink as Jason is suddenly between you and the customer, stood at his full height. He's all muscle and broad shoulders, looming over the guy. You peek around him.

"What the fuck, man?" the angry customer squawks. "Move!"

"No, you move," Jason says, tone lethal. "Sit quietly at a table and wait for your muffins to bake. Then you can thank the nice baker for waiting on your sorry ass and you're not gonna come back. They have far more patience for entitled fucks than I do."

"Fuck you," the man spits.

Jason calmly closes the distance between them and whispers in his ear, hand like a vice around the jerk's shoulder. You watch as he turns pale, eyes growing wider.

"Sound good?" Jason asks pleasantly, all teeth. The man gapes at him.

Wow. Yeah. This is really doing something for you.

The oven dings. You go to retrieve the muffins, packing them as quickly as possible. You give him the box and the man nods.

"Thanks," he mumbles, then scurries out of the store.

Jason turns to you, and it's like looking at a completely different person.

"You okay?" he asks, posture stiff like he's still prepared for a fight.

You nod, a little dazed.

"Yeah. Wow. Jason, I... you didn't have to do that. I mean, thank you for doing it, but..."

"Hey, that guy was a jackass. And if you have trouble with him or anyone else, call me, okay?"

This side of him stuns you. If you didn't know better, you'd think he had this exchange regularly.

"Call you?" you ask, smiling. "How will I call you if I don't have your number?"

He freezes, eyes wide. "Oh. Uh. Um..."

You lean over, elbows on your counter. He watches you. You cup your hand around your mouth, pretending to divulge a secret.

"This is where you, the cute guy who frequents my struggling cafe, gives me your number."

"You think I'm cute?" he asks.

"Devastatingly so," you say, grinning.

He's quiet for a long moment. Your smile starts to dim.

"Did I read this wrong?" you ask. "If I came off too strong..."

"No!" he says a little too loud. Jason winces. "Sorry. No. I... you're... fuck, I'm not good at this. I don't even really drink tea or coffee, to be honest. I just come in to see you."

"You do?"

Jason sighs. "Yeah. Shit. That's creepy, isn't it?"

You laugh and he visibly softens.

"No, Jason," you say warmly. "It's sweet."

"So can I still ask you on a proper date? Not coffee."

You grin. "That would be perfection."

[uc1wa]

As a virgin, I need a virgin!reader with Jason todd... PLEASE, just a tip or a hint

your sweet sweet boyfriend was overly gentle with you. his touches, featherweight. his hands light when they wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his big and warm embrace. he was a man who, when he was centimeters from your face in what was to be your first kiss, asked, "please let me kiss you, baby." his version of asking if it was okay, to which you righteously nodded, a soft kiss landed right on your lips, despite the lack of chapstick your boyfriend wore.

kissing became more and more normal. pecks, leading into open mouthed kisses, leading into heated makeout sessions on either one of your sofas. but, nothing past that. because, you were worth much more than for jason to drive himself into you on a damned couch.

and he’d be lying to himself if the thought of his little girlfriend, untouched, didn’t drive him up the wall. the fact that he was the one showing you how to do everything, being your first in every one of your intimate moments. knowing that, he would be the one to open your legs the way a flower in bloom would. sweet and ripe and just for him.

he plans it specially. on one of your monthly anniversaries, he takes you to dinner at a fancy restaurant. one where lights are dimmed, and a number of courses come floating your way.

and when you come into his room, there’s a candle lit on each of his bedside tables. jason proceeds to turn a small lamp on as he leads you in there, watching from behind you as you walk in and turn around with a grin.

"i’m all for you, honey. tell me if it gets to be too much, yeah?" he says lowly, softly as he pulls the straps of your dress down your shoulders, letting the fabric fall to the ground.

once all material is removed from both of your bodies, jason’s leading you to lay on your back in his bed. and once you do, his eyes are taking you in, in your entirety. of course the man knew you were beautiful, but to be this beautiful and all for him?

his lips pull upwards as you shy away, hands and arms moving in attempt to cover yourself. so, jason leans down, legs coming underneath yours as one hand grabs yours, placing it against the bed and the other holds himself against the mattress.

"too pretty to be doing that," he smiles, leaning to press a kiss to your lips, your cheek, neck, chest and downwards.

he’s gentle when he begins with your heat, pressing a kiss before he begins lapping at your entrance. one and then two fingers find their way to your hole, hardening his length as he feels just how tight you are.

jason wasn’t impure, but he was more than prideful knowing he was going to be the one to break you open. he was prideful knowing it was his cock that your hole was going to be adjusted to.

your sweetness is almost too much, the taste of sex on his tongue as he travels upwards to take your lips and tongue in open mouthed kisses, stroking himself with help of his pre.

"gonna fill y’up, that okay, princess?" it takes half a nod of confirmation until jason is pressing his head into you, tightness surely an adjustment as he groans above you. the sight of you squirming underneath him makes him want to rut into you, but he’s patient.

"’s okay baby, c’mon, let me see that pretty face," a hand cups your jaw when you fail to meet his eyes, red spreading across your face as your wide eyes meet his. he can only chuckle. "my pretty baby, taking me so good, hun." his strokes are slow, deep, and long.

they stay a consistent pace even when your thighs feel like they’re crushing his hips, your nails scratching their way down his back, and the sound of your mewling voice fills the expanse of the room.

his voice talks you through your first orgasm with him, "for me baby, been so good, cum around me baby," he says, lips sucking softly up your neck. "can feel how much ya want it," jason says when you clench around him, nibbling at your ear.

and when he feels you finish around him, he’s pulling out, spilling himself all over your tummy, because he didn’t think to wear a condom. his lips kiss your neck and then cheek as he sits up. "how do you feel, princess? feelin’ okay?" he asks, grinning at the way you look so tired and fucked out.

he’s getting a warm rag, cleaning you off before tucking you into bed beside him, palm rubbing your back in circles as you lay on his frame, arms wrapped around his torso. "that’s my girl, knew you’d take me good. so proud of you baby."

me when i’m a fucking liar and post when i told myself not to rolling eyes emoji luv u guys have a good weekend i’m going out tn n getting drizzunk woohooo ok byeeeee

[reveluving]

see you soon ; jason todd x batmom reader (ft bruce wayne)

includes: jason's beloved dubbed 'princesa' (can read it as her and/or jason being latina/latino or spanish being jason's 1st/2nd language!) & tooth-rotting fluff!

a/n: combining @xoxokirby's jason todd x princesa with my batmom AU in this quick, cute thought because I just love talking about them together 💗

check out my batmom m.list &lt;3

"Alright, so here's the hot chocolate," You carefully passed Jason the heavy double-cup holder, "And in here is your Philly cheesesteak, some soups and your girl's panini sandwich. And I threw in some brownie pudding in there since we had extra. Make sure you don't heat it up beyond forty-five seconds. You're lucky you texted me just as dinner rush started."

While waiting for Jason to come and pick up the orders he had requested you just hours ago, you closed down the necessary so you could head home with Bruce straight away once he finishes his work in the office. Not once had Jason stopped offering on taking you back to the manor first before heading back to his girlfriend at his apartment, but you insisted otherwise.

And how could he say no to his mother?

"Yeah, that's on me," Your son smiled sheepishly, holding the bags of food and drinks with ease, "Y'sure we don't gotta pay up?"

"What makes you think I'm making my own kids pay for food at my café all of a sudden?" You rested your hands on your hips, brows raised as if he had asked the dumbest question ever.

"'m just askin', y'don't have to be so mad. Sheesh," He shrugged, only to dodge your playful smack with a laugh, "Kiddin', kiddin'."

But the big smile on his face remained.

A lot of things make him smile, be it from you, his siblings, Bruce at times or his beloved, but he just couldn't help replaying how you considered his girl one of 'your kids', as if, like him, you just knew she was the one.

"Be sure to tell her about the family dinner that we're having in two weeks." You reminded him, slipping on your gloves before turning off most of the lights. It would be her first dinner with the Waynes, and you wanted nothing more than to have her as a part of your family’s cheesy traditions.

"I will," He nodded, and just as you wondered about the extra joy he was radiating, he hugged you with one arm—the one that was holding the bag of food, "Thanks, ma."

"Oh, Jay," You chuckled, returning the hug with a few pats in his back, "I'm just looking out for my kids."

Just then, you and Jason heard the sound of engine approaching, and lo and behold, the familiar black Aston Martin came into view.

"That's our cue. C'mon," You playfully pushed him from the back, drawing a worried 'ma!', afraid he might drop the food. You just responded to his pout with a cheeky smile before exiting the café, with him waiting for you to lock the door. Winter came in early in Gotham, and the citizens took the opportunity to decorate the city in ways that seemed so... familial.

You opened the passenger door, "Hey." You lit up as Bruce leaned in, his warm lips tickled your cold cheek.

"Sorry I'm late. Tried to finish up some of the last reports before the holidays."

You reassured him, shaking your head as you did, "You're not, I promise. Plus, Jay waited with me."

Bruce looked over at your door, where Jason stood, "Thanks, Jason. Head home safely and don't forget about the dinner, alright?"

"I won't," He nodded curtly as he walked backwards, heading to the alley where he parked his bike, "I'll text y'when I reach home."

"Say hi to princesa for us!" You grinned, waving as you watched your son disappear into the back of the store. You closed the door, turning to Bruce and officially greeting him with a quick but nonetheless sweet kiss, "Hi, you."

"Hi yourself," He sighed in content, leaning in for another kiss as he held the steering wheel, "Shall we?"

"Of course." You replied, and just as your seatbelt clicked into place, Jason drove past you, but not before waving at you and Bruce as he did.

With the end of the year around the corner, you were tired, and so was Bruce. Jason was no different and he didn't doubt that his girl was beat, too.

But it was impossible to suppress the smiles on your faces, knowing that none of you will end the day by your lonesome.

Just a hot drink in hand, a comfy bed to cuddle up in, and your other half to hold onto.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

[godlyrots]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓.

PAIRING — jason todd x fox!reader.

SYNOPSIS — you can't stay mad at him.

WORD COUNT — 1126.

WARNINGS + CONTENT — pre-established relationship, previous fwb relationship. oral, fem receiving. marking. might be ooc. use of petnames. making out + messy kissing if you squint? got kind of poetic in some places for whatever reason, i'm just vv sleepy. not proof read at all lmao so if you see mistakes ignore them.

AUTHOR'S NOTE — introducing fox!reader. i've only seen the animal!reader thing the OBX fandom but since i haven't seen anyone ( to my knowledge ) do this for DC i wanted to try. i'll have different iterations of readers who'll have different personality types + aesthetics based on different animals/what i come up with for them. but they are people, not hybrids.

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

"you smell nice." you're whispering into his ear and your voice is rough from hours of rehearsal with your band and jason's hands are nestled on your thighs. he kneads at the pliant flesh, his calluses providing a contrast to the smooth skin in his palms. he lets out a soft hum once your teeth find the spot you know he likes.

he's got that familiar cologne on, filled with woody elements and that beautifully rich, musky scent. it was a gift from you for his birthday last year and he wore it until the bottle was empty and sat on a shelf in his closet and he bought a new one. it wasn't the first time you've been like this, this was your way of apologizing and you knew how to be physically affectionate even if you can't verbalize it. he slightly cranes his neck once your lips work to leave hickies on his skin, the old ones were fading into a light pink hue. you stopped once his phone lit up though and jason's hand reaches for it absentmindedly on the couch beside him.

he types out a response to who you imagine to be one of his friends but he quickly places in back down and focuses on you and his eyes rake over your pouty lips with your lip gloss and lipstick all over him. you can't help but try to remove your berry coloured products off his skin. his thumb works on your bottom lip and wipes off the remaining product. "still mad?" he asks with a low voice, in a tiny mini-skirt you're all the more attractive to him. you fight the warmth that fills your belly as wetness dribbles onto your underwear.

jason secretly loves when you fight despite the fact that he thinks some of your arguments are pointless, but seeing you riled up and angry in your little skirts or a mixture his baggy shirts and shorts or just underwear. he knows that he fucked up, you guys don't keep secrets but by the end of your fights he knows that you'll end up laying on your back with his head between your thighs or you on your knees with his cock in your mouth. either way you didn't complain because you're sure that you loved watching him as much as he loved watching you.

"little bit." you're telling him as he looks at you with that same hardened expression despite him understanding that he did hurt you. his justification didn't really matter, not right now. "i hate lying, you shouldn'a done it." you add on to the few words you'd said and your voice was still hoarse.

"m'sorry, doll"

"m'sorry too, just don't hide things from me."

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

you have a fistful of jason's hair in your hands as his tongue laps at your wetness and sucks on your clit like it's the only thing on his mind. the noises from both of you are borderline obscene as he keeps a steady hand on your thigh and your whines are increasing in volume, even with the music to cover up the noise. he's pulling you into him as you squirm and bite back the moans that are climbing up your throat and past your lips. "christ, jay—" you're whimpering now and it almost feels pathetic but your body is one fire, the warmth of his skin of you feels illicit and jason doesn't come up for air.

he pumps his cock with his free-hand in his pants as he listens to you and with the added pent up frustrations of you not speaking for several days and your earlier escapades has got his head spinning. he can't get over listening to you, seeing you, feeling you. it's like he's this fiend and no matter what he does he'll never rid himself of this vice, this addiction and this longing. you don't hear what he says between your thighs as it's muffled by your plush skin but you know it's something absolutely disgusting.

"y'feel too good, baby."

he can't help but moan as he continues to both eat you out and fuck his fist and he can't get enough. jason's almost dedicated to getting you off, each touch is an apology, it might as well be an act of worship 'cause this is the closest he's ever felt to god. i'm sorry, m'sorry, i'm sorry. with each lick, rut of your lips or collection of each drop of your delicious arousal.

you instinctively raise your hips once he works your clit particularly well but he pushes you back down before you can blink properly. jason knows that you're close, he can feel how you clench around his tongue as he works on your puffy cunt, he's a man with a cause, a mission. you were already horny when you decided to mark him up, leave little reminders of you but god, he's so everything.

"right there. s'perfect jay." you tell him, voice filled with lust and genuine adoration. you feel your orgasm creep up on you and he harshly sucks on your little clit and doesn't stop until you're squirming and trying to squeeze your legs together as a way to self-soothe and have the ache subside but it was no use. he doesn't stop until your cum is coating the bottom half of his face and jason's head moves up from between your legs with low eyes that don't peer away from your pussy. it takes a lot in him, everything he has, even to stop himself from eating you out until you're writhing underneath him but you seem pretty spent.

your chest is heaving and you've got these haphazard breaths that stall every few seconds and your skin is warm, covered in a mixture of sweat and your shea butter lotion that's permanently stuck in jason's mind. you kiss him so feverishly that you can taste yourself on his tongue once it enters your mouth and you're moaning into it. he pulls away though, too quickly you think, with swollen, puffy lips and those dazed eyes like he just got some of the best head of his life.

"forgive me?"

you nod once your breathing calms down and your eyes catch the lipstick and hickies all over his neck that scream you're mine.

"guessin' that means you want your dick sucked?"

there's a slight beat of silence before he agrees with you. "fuckin' blue-balled myself f'you. it's only fair."

you roll your eyes before moving from the couch to the carpeted floors infrontt of you and you're on your knees. jason's hand pulls down his pants until they're down to his ankles and he's holdin' up your cute little boho braids up with his hand.

"whatever."

[alwaysmoncheri]

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and jason have a complicated relationship, but when you find yourself in a troubling situation, jason just happens to be your emergency contact

𝐜𝐰: female!reader, minimal swearing, sexual assault, cat calling, assault, violence, 1.5k, jason todd x reader

<3

midnights in gotham city smell distinctly of blood. the dark streets are littered with corpses of victims who stain the rubble red. crime is high and murder remains rampant among the homeless people living on the streets. you know walking home alone at this hour alongside the hundreds of criminals that hide in the shadows is a terrible idea. but your shift at the library ran late tonight and you had no other means of transportation, hence the reason why you find yourself alone in a dark alley far from the comfort and safety of your apartment.

the faint footsteps of desperate strangers lurk behind you, the sound echoes through the night, and your skin crawls with anticipation of what’s to follow. nothing good comes from the situation that you’ve found yourself in and that’s what brings you to pull out your phone and tap on the first contact that pops up on your screen.

jason.

your relationship with jason is complicated. like most things in your life you suppose. but jason is the only one who’s almost always by your side. maybe that’s part of what possessed you to click on his name on your phone and bring it up to your ear with trembling fingers.

“hey, sweet—”

“jason, I think i’m being followed.” you breathe out quickly and you don't dare to peek so much as a glance behind you.

“shit. hang on, babe. just—”

jason's voice, laced with urgency, cuts through the tense night as the echo of your footsteps intensifies. the sounds of the desolate alley amplify, creating an eerie symphony of fear and impending danger.

“i’m so scared, jay,” your shaky voice reaches jason, carrying the weight of dread as if it were a tangible thing. in response, jason's voice becomes a soothing anchor, his words a balm to your frayed nerves.

“hey, it’s okay, sweetheart. tell me where you are,” jason's voice, steady and reassuring, breaks through the chaos. your breath catches as you fumble to provide your location, the darkness of the alley making every detail obscure.

“I don’t know, I think in an alley near the corner of 5th and main. I thought it would be quicker. jason, please hurry,” desperation seeps into your words, painting a vivid picture of the peril you find yourself in.

“just hang on, i’m on my way,” jason's promise becomes a lifeline, a lifeline you desperately clutch onto. the plea, "don’t hang up, please don’t hang up," echoes through the phone, the fear of losing that connection palpable.

“I won’t, honey. just keep telling me what’s going on, okay?” jason's voice is a steady stream of reassurance, a counterpoint to the mounting chaos.

your breath quickens as you confess, "there’s multiple, jay."

“multiple what? sweetheart, talk to me,” jason's concern deepens, the gravity of the situation reflected in the intensity of his inquiry.

“people, there’s multiple people. they’re still following me, and I can’t lose them,” your voice quivers, painting a chilling image of the shadows closing in.

“i’m almost there, okay? just hang on a little longer, can you do that for me?” jason’s words are a beacon of hope, urging you to endure the storm just a little while longer.

“they’re getting closer. shit,” panic infuses your voice as the chase intensifies. jason senses the urgency, a quiet determination in his response.

the abrupt cut-off and your distressed cry for help and jason’s call to you, "y/n!?" mark the harrowing turn. the phone, a lifeline moments ago, is silenced by a crushing foot, an audible confirmation of the looming threat.

“looks like your boyfriend isn’t going to make it, gorgeous,” a sinister voice taunts, the malevolence palpable in the dimly lit alley. the struggle intensifies, and your defiant words ring through the night.

“get off of me, you creep!” your voice is a mix of fear and defiance, a visceral response to the encroaching menace.

“watch your tone, sweetie,” a chilling warning hangs in the air as they pin you down. the confrontation takes a dark turn as you spit in their faces, a desperate act of resistance.

“such a shame that’s what you’re using such a pretty mouth for,” a sinister chuckle underscores the dehumanizing intent, leaving a bitter taste in the tense air.

“that’s alright, we don’t want you for your mouth anyway,” a chilling statement, a precursor to unspeakable horrors, hangs over the alley.

in the clash of desperation and violence, the air changes as jason, your vigilante savior, descends upon the scene like a guardian angel emerging from the shadows. the sounds of a fierce struggle ensue, muffled grunts and the scuff of boots on concrete. with a swift, powerful intervention, the men are knocked out and when they loosen their grip you sink to the ground with defeat and despair. you don’t even notice you’re crying until jason gently prys your hands from your face and rubs your tears away with the rough thumb of his leather glove

then, in one swift motion, jason's strong, reassuring arms envelop you, pulling you into an embrace that feels like sanctuary. relief washes over you, grounding you in the reality of his protective presence.

“it's okay, sweetheart. you're safe now,” jason's voice, previously a lifeline over the phone, now echoes directly into your ear, a soothing melody that erases the lingering echoes of fear. his words are a healing balm, mending the wounds of terror inflicted upon your psyche.

the dimly lit alley transforms from a nightmare into a haven under the watchful gaze of your friend. the tension in your shoulders eases, and the erratic beat of your heart gradually steadies as you bask in the warmth of his reassuring touch.

“i've got you, y/n. you're safe,” jason whispers, the warmth of his breath against your ear a soothing balm to the wounds inflicted by fear. the resonance of those words sinking deep into the recesses of your shaken soul. his presence is a shield against the haunting memories of the alley, a reassurance that the nightmare is over.

the shattered phone lies forgotten, a casualty of the struggle, as jason continues to shield you from the residual fear. he tilts your chin up gently, meeting your eyes with an unwavering gaze that speaks volumes of his commitment and protective instinct.

“let's get you home,” jason murmurs, his fingers tenderly brushing away a stray strand of hair from your face. together, you navigate the now-quiet alley, the looming threat replaced by the solid ground beneath your feet and the reassuring touch of the person who faced the darkness on your behalf.

as you approach the familiar comfort of your apartment, jason's protective hold lingers. “are you okay?” he asks, his voice a gentle murmur that eases the residual tension in your body. you nod against his chest, words escaping you as relief and gratitude flood your senses.

the apartment door closes with a muffled thud, shutting out the ominous whispers of the night. jason, ever watchful, guides you towards the bathroom. the soft hum of the overhead light bathes the space in a gentle glow, revealing the porcelain sink and mirror.

you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror – disheveled, eyes wide with residual fear. without a word, jason turns on the faucet, letting the water flow until it reaches a soothing warmth. his fingers graze yours, urging you to lean over the sink.

the splashing water echoes in the small room as jason's hands cup and scoop, the liquid cascading over your face. the feel of his fingers against your skin is both tender and firm, each touch a cleansing ritual that washes away the remnants of the night.

you glance up into the mirror, meeting jason's eyes. there's an unspoken understanding as his hands move methodically, the cool water providing a refreshing contrast to the heated intensity of the ordeal. the sensation is grounding, a simple act of care that transcends words.

as you straighten up, a vulnerability lingers in your gaze. you turn off the faucet, and the silence hangs in the air. the wet droplets cling to your skin, a tangible reminder of the shared intimacy in this simple act of cleansing. jason's hands linger on your face, his fingers tracing a silent promise. the air in the bathroom holds a charged stillness, the transition from fear to intimacy palpable.

the urgency of the night lingers in your eyes. “stay, jason, please,” the plea escapes your lips, a raw, desperate plea that echoes in the confined space of the bathroom. his gaze meets yours, and for a moment, the weight of the world seems to shift.

there's a pause, a heartbeat suspended in time, before jason's expression softens. his agreement is wordless, a nod that carries the promise of a shared refuge in the night.

the journey from the bathroom to the bedroom is taken in tandem, the touch of his hand on the small of your back a grounding force. the mattress welcomes you both, and the room is immersed in the soft glow of bedside lamps. the night unfolds with shared breaths and jason's hand finding yours.

“thank you.” you whisper to him under the sheets, the warmth of his body next to you radiating into your own, “thank you for protecting me.”

“i’ll always protect you, sweetheart.”

masterlist . jason todd masterlist . taglist

thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!

alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

[ravenna-reid]

Black Vixen & Ballet

Jason Todd x Ex-Ballerina Vigilante Reader

Another ballet show held in the heart of Gotham City. The opulent building was filled with the rich and conceited with their glistening jewels, glasses of alcohol and expensive clothing. You stood on the balcony that looked over the entrance and small bar that sat outside the theatre, silently judging and observing them all. Soon, all of the aristocrats that were here drinking and gossiping would file into the theatre and watch the Swan Lake, and pretend that they weren't some of the worst and most corrupt people in Gotham.

Hair cascading down your back and your fitted, satin dress the colour of the midnight sky trailing behind you, you simply held onto your untouched wine glass and watched. Someone's hand suddenly slipped between yours and your glass, smoothly taking it from your hold. Turning to see who was asking for your attention, you just managed to hide your surprised expression. That cologne, those eyes, you recognised it all instantly.

"Mm," He hummed, looking down at your nails as he took a sip from your glass. Claws is what the thugs on the streets were calling them, and it made you laugh. Black, slick and sharp, they were both pretty and lethal. Just like you. "I'd notice those nails anywhere."

His eyes flickered up to look at you, his dark raven hair hanging before them, still a little damp from his shower. He wore an impeccable suit, but it did little to hide how muscular he was.

"You're not still holding a grudge against me, are you?" You asked softly, a smirk on your lips as you took your glass back.

He cocked his head to the side, a disapproving glint passing through those ocean blue eyes.

"You scared me, what was I to do?" You reasoned, pretending to be upset and wearing your best, fake saddened expression. Jason moved behind you until he was at your other side, looking down at the bustling audience below.

"So is that what you do?" He began, "Hit first and ask questions later?"

"I guess I've been hanging around you for too long." You smiled, and he failed to suppress his own smile. Your eyes trailed down his tie to where his stomach was, and you could imagine the claw marks you had accidentally left behind.

"I did apologise." You replied, voice smooth like wine. It did something to Jason. Made him both love sick and feral. Weak at the knees and desperate.

Yes, you had apologised. You remembered that night and how he hesitantly closed the space between the both of you. How you had held your hand over the scratch marks to try and ease the pain. The look in his eyes and the thrumming in your chest. The cool breeze. The dark alley way with its broken streetlights. You had quietly explained to him what you were doing, and he gave you a curt warning to stay safe. Then he had pulled his hood back over his head and disappeared as quickly as he came.

Glasses clinking and fake laughter rippled through out the warmly lit room. He leant down on the railing and you couldn't help but take note of how close the two of you were. Just centimetres away from arms brushing against each other. So close yet so far away.

"Reminiscing?" He asked looking over at you, voice like whiskey on ice. You forgot that he knew you were once the foremost ballerina in Gotham. The night that changed it all being the night you performed as the Black Swan. Strong, elegant, skilled and striking. You were a dazzling star. Your hair was in a slicked back bun, make-up beautiful and fierce, adorned in black lace. He once mentioned how he had been there that night, much to your surprise, leaving out that he'd been forced to go by Bruce and Dick for socialising reasons. He thought you were the most stunning girl he'd seen, but soon realised you were too good for him.

You hummed in response, and he wondered how you went from an esteemed Ballerina to a feared Vigilante. From the Black Swan to being called the Black Vixen. You suddenly turned, leaning your back on the cool, gilded railing and turning to him. He watched as your silky hair moved against your shoulder. He swallowed hard, the intense fluttering continuing in his chest.

"If you're here for Dickinson..." you began, gliding closer towards him so no one else could hear you, "You better be smart about it. His thugs are everywhere."

His head instinctively moved closer to yours. How did you know about Dickinson? How did you know that was Jason's latest target? "What do you know?"

"Not enough." Your perfume flooded his senses, his eyes trailing from the end of your black dress back up to your eyes.

"You're here on a mission?"

Turning from him, you shrugged.

"Are you armed?"

"Maybe, maybe not."

Without meaning to, he grabbed hold of your arm. His grip gentle yet demanding. "Listen, you can't mess with these guys-"

You fiercely turned to face him again. "Don't you think I know that?"

You were both back in that alley way, looking at each other like you'd die for each other. So much longing. So much yearning.

"Jason!" Your eyes turned to another boy, hair dark and eyes bright like his, as he made his way over. Jason. It was nice to finally put a name to the face. The boy gave you a large smile before focusing on Jason with a sly smirk. "Well, who is this?"

Jason let go of your arm as he turned to his brother and cursed his timing under his breath. "She's a...a friend. She used to be a ballerina." Jason turned back to face you, but found an empty space instead.

"Huh," Dick chuckled. "Looks like she needed an excuse to quickly ditch you. Glad I could help her out." His laugh rang in Jason's ears, his arm falling around Jason's shoulders in a joking manner.

Jason shot his brother a cold look before searching the area for you. But you were no where to be found.

"Black Vixen...what are you up to?"

[drumsticks-conundrum]

Had to make this, ENJOYYYY!

ヽ(๏ ∀๏ )ﾉ

[fic-over-cannon]

the gloaming

jason todd x gn!reader

Do you know me in the gloaming, Gaunt and dusty gray with roaming? Flower Gathering, Robert Frost

Something sweet dances on the wind, cuts through the grime and exhaust of the city’s usual odour. Flowers, maybe, blooming in the park two blocks east. For Jason Todd, it feels like a Gotham summer, the kind he used to love as a kid. The breeze just caressing his skin before moving on, sticky heat finally letting up as Fall looms on the horizon. The setting sun catches on the windows of the high rises, transforming the whole street into technicoloured fiery hues. 

He’s got a bag of pastries clutched between his teeth, a surprise gift from the bakery on 3rd for helping them with their vandalism problem. Reaching into his back pocket, Jason juggles his phone and wallet looking for his keys. It’s a struggle, but he’s used to it. You tease him for it every time and every time he manages the lock on his own, Jason crows with triumph. Today though, with the risk of dropping his bounty, he keeps his victory to himself.

Silence greets him, punctuated only by the door closing behind him. Cautious, Jason toes off his boots and goes searching. Keys finding their home on the hook and pastries getting deposited on the  countertop still prompt no response. He’s not worried, not yet. You’d sent him a text when you’d gotten home after all. The kitchen is dark in the wake of sunset, the first tendrils of blue grey shadow reaching long fingers across the cabinets. The water from the tap is cold as he gulps it down. Stray drops cling to the glass as he presses it to his forehead. 

Light shines faintly from under the closed door of the bedroom. Pale gold cutting across the plush fibers of the carpet. Jason pushes the door gently, stops it from bouncing off the wall the way it’s prone to doing with just a shade too much enthusiasm. You’re there, curled up on top of the blankets of the bed and gilded by the low light. 

“Hey,” he calls out softly.

You pat the bed beside you and Jason crawls in beside you, mattress sinking under his weight.  With a sigh, your head comes to rest on his stomach, arms coming around him. Jason shivers as your pinky brushes bare skin, T-shirt riding up. Face first, you nuzzle in to him and he holds you tighter. Presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“What’s going on, chickadee?” Jason asks, inhaling the faded scent of shampoo and sweat. Silence stretches out between you, filling the room as the windows grow darker. It’s that quiet hour where the sun has said its farewells but the moon hasn’t quite risen it’s head in greeting, something magical and still filling the night with a dusky blue hue.

“Sometimes the world just has a way of making me feel small, you know?” you say, folding the silence away with your words. Jason feels the rumble of them across his belly. “S’nothing in particular, not really. A door that closed too fast for me, a word that felt loaded, a hand that didn’t help. Just the sense that I’m invisible, like I don’t fully exist.”

It’s a fear that rises its head every once in a while, rolls over you as suddenly as a rogue wave and disappears just as quickly. The drowning sensation of being inconsequential in the eyes of everyone around you, a non-entity. As thin and insubstantial as air with nothing so necessary to offer.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he asks. Jason feels more than sees you nod. “Sometimes you’re the only thing I can focus on, the world just fades away. I go blind, deaf, and dumb to everything else. You’re it for me, chickadee,” he whispers into the crown of your head.

“I know,” you answer simply, and you do. He’s the destination you’ve spent your life looking for. “Can we just– can we just stay like this a bit until I’m a bit less see through?” 

“We’ll stay here as long as you like. I got no where else I’d rather be.”

Later, when inky darkness covers the city and the streetlamps have long been lit, you will stretch up to place a kiss on Jason’s stubbly cheek. He will smile, and lead you by the hand to the kitchen. Jason will surprise you with the bolo de coco long gone to room temperature in it’s crumpled paper bag, and the two of you will laugh and eat your dessert before your dinners. He will cook for you, asking you questions and catering to your whims until you feel a little less raw.

But that is later. For now, the two of you sit in soft silence, the evening stretching on around you.

[moonlit-imagines]

No One’s Sidekick

Jason Todd x teen!reader

warnings: needles and guns and death mentions ya know

a/n: ok i was gonna do headcanons for this but honestly it sparked a lot of inspiration so im actually writing a oneshot for it this is a ONE IN A MILLION CHANCE bc im very picky about when to write oneshots ily. might do hcs also just cuz arkham knight is my passion. (honestly i should have just done hcs idk if i like where i went with this LMAO)

prompt: anonymous: “hi idk if you write Arkham Jason Todd but if if you do is it possible if you can do a Arkham Jason Todd x fem teen reader and reader is his sidekick”

Imagine a life where you had nothing, you were the lowest anyone could go, and you were just a kid. Now imagine that there was someone standing in front of you, telling that same story, and offering you a chance to turn it all around because they knew how it felt to be you.

That someone was Jason Todd. You found each other by chance, somewhere in the Gotham slums. He walked past you down a dimly lit alley full of used needles and rotting trash, noticing a kid just a few years younger hiding from the world. You noticed a guy in a hoodie hiding a nasty scar on his cheek.

He reached out a hand, hoping you’d take it. He saw a look in your eyes that you’d been like this a while. And you might have noticed the same in his. Which is why after trusting nobody for years, you took this stranger’s hand. “I remember when I was a kid waiting in shitty places woth the hope someday it’d change. And it did one day. Someone found me and changed my life.” He explained after buying you a burger and fries.

“Was it for the better?” You asked him with a mouthful of food.

“I don’t know anymore.” He looked shaken himself, and you could tell by the bags under his eyes this may have been a subject that kept him up at night, maybe took up his waking moments, too. “How long have you been alone?”

“Practically forever. Every once in a while I felt like I was on steady ground and then…something always happens.” You sighed, taking a sip of your soda. “But I learned how to get by on my own. I had to. And I have to protect myself.” Jason raised a brow.

“You protect yourself yet you’re willing to go off with a stranger?” He asked, giving you a warm smile.

“Jason, right?” He nodded at the question. “Jason Todd?” His expression dropped. Before he could stammer out a response, you leaned back on your side of the booth and said, “everyone around here knows you one way or another, but everyone thought you were dead after you disappeared.”

“Did you know who I was when you came here with me?” Jason spoke lowly.

“Nope.” You flatly responded. “But I figured it out along the way. You used to live in my building when I was a kid, I knew I recognized you from somewhere.”

“3B?” He asked.

“That’s the one. You remember?” You smiled.

“I remember a scared little kid with dirt all over their face no matter what time of day.” You both chuckled. “Wow, it’s been a long time. I guess I’m glad we ran into each other.”

“It’s nice. I just don’t know where to go from here.” You took the last few bites from your meal, averting your eyes from his gaze, nervous for what was to come, but also hopeful. At this point, you didn’t care what you did or where you went, as long as you had some kind of purpose. Spending your youth in sleeping in wet boxes or crashing on a sunken-in, stained couch was no longer something you could stand doing.

“I had an idea. A while ago. But I just didn’t know how to go about it.” He revealed with a long pause, mustering up better details to share. “I dont know. It sounds crazy, but maybe not anymore.”

“Can you get to the point?” You tilted your head, eager for a bit more.

“Yeah, yeah…” He gulped. “I talked to this guy, it was after some really bad shit went down,” he brushed his scarred cheek, “this high-profile assassin wanted to train me—work with me. There are some demons I have to face, but I need some help to get ready.” You stared blankly for a minute, fingernail scratching the tabletop as you thought about his words. “It’s out of the country, somewhere in South America.”

“You’re crazy.” You stated. “I’m in.” Jason’s eyes widened. “Anything to get me out of Gotham. And you’re Jason Todd, I’d trust you with my life, even after all this time.” His expression softened and he kind of chuckled, in disbelief of you and himself.

“I—I guess I gotta go make a call.” Jason knocked his hand on the table. “Go ahead and order dessert, I’ll be back in a few.” He stepped out the front door and opened his phone, scrolling down to a contact labeled “S. Wilson.” It rang twice. “I’m in, and one more will be joining us.”

“I’ll make the arrangements for your travels, stay on the line.” Said Slade, there were faint keyboard clicks. “I have a private jet that awaits you at eight a.m. tomorrow. I will send you the address, don’t be late.” The phonecall ended abruptly and Jason went back to your table, finding you eating a slice of pie.

“Tomorrow morning we get to fly in a private jet.” Jason saw your face light up. “Never been?”

—————

Venezuela was incredible to you, even if it was a bit more humid than you were used to. On the plane ride, Jason told you everything. He didn’t spare one detail, he didn’t care. You were another Gotham City orphan with a dark past and a bright future. You two were ready for anything.

It was grueling. It was incredible. It was nothing you’d experienced before. Which was terrifying. But invigorating. You could tell Jason felt right back in his element, but you were desperately trying to catch up. He’d had much training before this, relevant to the current situation. You’re training went as far as standard Gotham Slums scuffling. Your skills included switchblade maneuvers, aiming for the crotch, running from trouble and climbing from trouble. Nothing like this ever seemed possible for you. But Jason knew what it felt like to be brought from your level to his. And as Deathstroke brought Jason to his level, he’d make sure you’d catch up.

—————

“I think you two are ready.” Slade announced as both of you stood before him. Straight backs, eyes forward, and arms behind your backs. “The plan is to be enacted soon, and you,” he turned his attention to Jason, “it’s up to you what we do from here. Gotham City finally meets its match?” He suggested. Jason nodded his head once and you followed. And so it began, the planning phase.

—————

You looked at Gotham from down below. Smaller than you remembered. The whirring of the helicopter blades lulled you away from reality for a few moments before Jason tapped you, motioning for you to come up front with him. You slid your headset on and heard him begin barking orders at the militia before setting your comms to private. ��How’s it feel?” Jason asked you.

“I don’t know, actually.” You replied, doing a final check to make sure your guns were loaded and secured. “What about you?”

“It feels like I’m finally getting my revenge.” His voice modulator sent a chill down your spine and you soon landed in Gotham. The plan went off without a hitch. Gotham evacuated, scum running loose, Batman distracted, and his allies scattered. It was exciting, but something was off. Scarecrow’s plan didn’t sit well with you. It was gruesome, even to you. You never really cared about anyone but yourself, but as Jason lost his humanity, you gained it. “I’ve got your back, y/n. You got mine?”

“Always, Knight.” He chuckled as the chopper began to descend. “Let’s kill the Batman.”

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @summersimmerus // @xoxobabydolls // @evilcr0ne // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @elenavampire21 // @deanzboyfriend //

[spidernuggets]

Hi! Im new here. I was wondering if you could maybe write something inspired with "Gorgeous by Taylor Swift"? Jason Todd obviously lol, that's why i am here for.

Thx,

🌵

Jason Todd x Reader

I SHIT YOU NOT, I've been thinking about this song with Jason Todd all week

Note: For the sake of the song, Jason has blue eyes here.

It was once again another Bruce Wayne Gala. You were already on your 3rd drink, less than an hour in. You already promised Bruce that you'd show up, and it seemed rude to not go last minute. Being there would've been easy if that didn't mean trying to avoid Jason all night.

You knew if he found you, he'd try to ask you why you're always avoiding every time, everywhere. So you've been busying yourself at the gala, trying to talk to as many people as you could so Jason wouldn't disturb you. You talked to Dick, Steph, Tim, even Damian!

You're now on your 4th champagne, and your vision was getting a little blurry already.

But Jason, being Jason, he made it his personal mission to find you. You were his friend, and you always accompanied him during Bruce's long, boring galas. Well, except for the previous two. The last two galas were during the period where Jason was dating Artemis. And you couldn't stand being in the same room as them. Of course, you were happy that your best friend loved someone, but damn, you wished that someone was you. You knew for a fact you could've loved Jason better than any person he had clinging to his arm.

Two could play that game.

Did you try and make him jealous by bringing another guy (a significantly older guy at that) to the last gala. You sure as hell fucking did. Did the plan work?

Fuck no.

Jason came up to you, last gala, asking who the guy was. You introduced him as your boyfriend, but really, you just promised a guy a chance to see Bruce Wayne in return for being your date. And all Jason said was, "I'm glad you found someone to spend time with here. I didn't want to leave you alone while I'm with Artemis!" You wanted to strangle yourself.

You spent the rest of that night alone anyway, as the guy was just bothering Bruce the whole night. You had to formally apologise to him.

But this time, you came alone, expecting Jason to be with Artemis again. But you didn't see the tall red head anywhere. She was probably running late, but you would've expected her and Jason to come in hand in hand like the last two times.

"Y/n!" You grumbled at the voice that called out your name. You tried to casually speed walk away, but in a failed attempt, you felt a rough, calloused hand holding yours, preventing you from going away any further.

"Y/n! I've been looking for you all night," Jason says, turning you around. His warm hand embracing yours made your face heat up even more than it needed to. And the dimly lit room didn't help hide it. "Why are you so red?" He asks, placing the back of his hand to your forhead to check if you were feeling ill or such.

"Nothin'..." You murmur. You never really had a high alcohol tolerance. You tried to swat his hand away from your head.

"You sound drunk, sweet thing," he smiles down at you, hand now placed on your shoulder to keep you balanced.

"No, you sound drunk. You always talk nonsense. No one understands shit comin' out of your mouth," you tried to bite back.

"Okay, that means that's enough for tonight. It's barely two hours in, N/n," he says, taking your champagne flute away from you, holding you back as you whine, trying to take it back from him.

You sigh, knowing it was no use trying to fight against him. "Where's red head?" You murmur, leaning into his hold as he tried to keep you upright.

He looks down at you. "Artemis? Did I not tell you? We broke up. Uh.. well, she broke up with me. I don't know. It's complicated."

Well, that's just fantastic! Sure, when he was dating Artemis, you were jealous as hell, but at least it was easier to stay away from Jason and get rid of your feelings for him. Now that he's available, your brain is going to feed into the poor delusion that you actually might have a chance with him. And to top it off, now that you're on the edge of being wasted, your dumb mouth might run on its own an actually confess to Jason.

"And where's your date, Y/n? The old guy," he snickers.

You scoff. "Hardly old... only.." You count with your fingers. "Ten years older," you show your ten fingers to Jason.

"Mm.." He hums in response, combing your hair back with your fingers. "That's old, sweetheart. So, what happened to him?"

You sigh. "I don't know. Clubbing, probably. He's not allowed back here. Annoyed Brucie last time," You mumble.

"So.. Are you going to tell me why you were running away from me all night?" Jason asks.

You shook your head. "Was not.." You pathetically tried to lie. Suddenly, you felt your stomach gurgling. "Mm.. feel sick, Jay," you say, pushing away from him, not wanting to get sick on him, but he immediately pulls you back.

"Aha, okay, sweet thing. Bed time now." He laughs, placing your arms over his shoulder, guiding you out of the ballroom.

"Can go on my own," you mutter, trying to walk faster than him, but his hand remains on your waist, holding you closer to him.

"Yeah, yeah, sure you can. C'mon, up to my room." He says, leading the way to the elevator and up to the bedrooms.

"Want me to help you out of your clothes, or do you want to do it yourself?" He asks after letting you sit on his bed.

"Myself," you were able to sputter, reaching your arms out to take the shirt and sweatpants thathe already fetched from his wardrobe.

He kisses your forhead after giving it to you and heads towards the bathroom. He comes out with makeup wipes and micellar water.

"Eyes up, babe. You got eyeliner smudged all over," he whispers, grabbing hold of your chin to stop you from moving around.

"Up, up," he says, grabbing your hands and pulling you up as he leads you to his bathroom. He throws away the wipes and puts the water back in the cabinet. "You said you feel sick. You need to throw up, yeah?" You only mumbled in response, kneeling in front of the toilet.

Jason lightly rubs your back, waiting for you to throw up as your hand is over the toilet seat, your head leaning on it.

You started to groan, which alarmed Jason that you were ready to hurl. He combs your hair back, away from your face.

"You done?" He lightly asks, grabbing a paper towel and wiping your lips.

"Mm.. water."

"I know, I know, sugar. Come on," he helps you up again, going back to the bedroom. He opens a bottle of water and raises it to your lips, swatting away ypur hands that try to take it off him.

You hum when your thirst has been quenched, and he wipes away any droplets on your lips with his thumb. He then moves a small trash can beside the bed. "Bin is here if you need to get sick again, okay, Y/n?" He pokes your cheek to ensure you are listening.

You nod and hum in response. Jason lays the blanket over you, tucking you in, and you couldn't help but admire his features; His curly, black locks, sharp nose, plump lips, and those annoyingly gorgeous blue eyes that looked so deep that you could drown in them, but you'd still die happy.

"You're pretty, Jay," you mutter, your consciousness at the edge of giving up on you.

He shushes you. "It's bedtime now, sweet thing," he tries to get you to sleep.

"I'm not that bad of a person, am I?" You ask, now staring at the wall behind him.

"No, no. Why would you think that, babe?" He asks, fingers, once again, travelling through your hair.

"I don't think I can be your friend anymore. 't's Too hard," you're now ranting your silly little thoughts. The one thing you prayed wouldn't happen. And Jason stares down at you in hurt and confusion. Before he can ask why, you speak up again. "I don't think I can..mm. be your friend and not be in love with you. Not fair. I can't have you.. you chose.. uhmm.. red head.."

Jason couldn't help but smile. You were so adorable, and he just wanted to kiss all over your face so bad. But he knew you'd forget by morning. He can wait.

He gets up, removes his blazer, and shirt, leaving on the floor, and walks to the other side of the bed. He lifts up the blanket, getting into bed behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he shuffled to lay closer to you.

He kisses the back of your head. "Me and Artemis broke up, remember?" You grumbled an "Oh yeah."

"Wanna know why?" He finds your hand, holding it, and caresses your smaller hand. You hum in a questioning tone. He leans in closer, his lips just barely grazing your ear lobe. "She said I couldn't stop talking about you. Everything we did, I'd always find a way to bring you into the topic. She said I was in love with you. I kept denying it because I knew - Well, I thought you didn't, and you'd never feel the same. Guess I was wrong," he also knows you wouldn't remember this in the morning.

He felt you take a breath. "Remind me in the morning? When I'm sober? I wanna remember. And kiss you." You say, voice muffled into the pillow.

He kisses the back of your head one last time. "Of course, sweet thing."

[killishin]

NIGHTMARES

pairing : jason todd x reader

category : fluff

warning : nightmares

author's note : writing jason for the first time , it's short but i hope you like it :)

it was way past 4 in the morning , and you were having trouble sleeping still. Maybe it was all the caffeine you drank when you thought you'd surprise him with his favourite foods and dishes. But he had came back all weak and tired , his body littered with fresh , big bruises. His eyes which lit up when they saw you didn't even see the food or even acknowledged your presence. The pain in his eyes was all you could see , and maybe all he could see.

You immediately went and were about to ask him what happened but he'd already closed the door gently. Normally you would have maybe asked still , but you felt he needed some space right now.

You packed away everything in the fridge and by the time you went to see if he'd changed , he was already in your shared bed , eyes closed and turned away from you.

All you could do was give him a kiss on his temple and hugged him from behind , you didn't know if you should ask him about it and you were scared to trigger him. So you just hugged him all night till the moment he slept.

Worried about him , you couldn't sleep at all. And that's when you heard him.

Murmuring fearfully in his sleep , his body starting to shake a bit and his fingers clenched slowly. Your brows furrowed and you put a hand on his face and gently tried to wake him up.

" Jason.... Jason wake up... Jason !"

You shook him a bit and his eyes opened wide and he sat up straight in alarm.

" Hey hey hey easy ... are you okay?" You said as you sat in front of him , his face in your hands. He's panting heavily while looking down and doesn't really hear you. You bend down a bit and shake his head gently which diverts his attention to you.

" Look at me , im here , you're okay you're absolutely okay." you said as you hugged him tight. He stayed unresponsive for a while befkre desperately hugging you.

There was this old panic and fear in his eyes that you rarely saw , only when he had these nightmares. And it broke you apart, to see him like that and not knowing how to help.

You kept rubbing his back gently while whispering reassurances.

" It's all fine Jason , you're fine.. "

he seemingly calmed down after a while and pulled away a bit.

" Im sorry i woke you up. " he said, guilt laced in his voice.

" I couldn't sleep so it's fine alright. "

" did i worry you too much? fuck im sorr-"

" Shh shh shh , none of that. You're my love, of course im always gonne be worried for you because i care for you. How can i sleep knowing you're not fine? I would hate to not be there when you need me the most." you assured him , taking his hand and kissing the back of it while smiling softly at him.

His tensed shoulder start to relax and he rests his forehead on yours. " I really have no idea what I'll do without you."

" you're not getting rid of me that easily. " you joked smugly and thankfully that got a laugh out of him.

" Wouldn't dream of it."

You hugged him to sleep that day , you don't know if he actually slept or not because unfortunately you slept before him.

Maybe it was his warmth you needed to sleep.

He stared at you all while you slept , seeing his world asleep in his arms is all the bliss he needed.

likes and reblogs are appreciated :)