#this was the Jason Todd I cut my teeth on.

[benbamboozled]

Ngl…sometimes I miss how completely unhinged pre-Battle for the Cowl Jason Todd could be.

This is a telegram(???) that Jason sent to Dick after he spent multiple issues of Nightwing running around New York City murdering people dressed in his own(???) Nightwing suit and then turned into a tentacle monster and ate some guys. (Then he barfed the guys up and kept fighting them.)

Absolutely baffling. I love it. It’s art. It doesn’t make any sense in context, either. I miss this energy.

Source is Nightwing #122

[timmyyyturner]

Dm's: Jason Todd x Fem! Reader

TW: Alcohol.

jasontodd: I'm in love with you.

y/nl/n: i literally have no idea who you are.

It started a few months ago when you were followed by some random guy on Instagram. He had a racking of 28 Million followers and you were just a girl with 2K posting GRWM's and make up tutorials.

jasontodd: you looked so pretty in your livestream like MARRY ME TF??? ♡ liked by y/nl/n

y/nl/n: thank you, baby ♡ liked by jasontodd

You didn't get why you were so special.

y/nl/n: *voice memo* I'm serious like is there a reason you think I'm soooo pretty? ♡ liked by jasontodd

jasontodd: Damn. Even your voice is hot.

jasontodd: I'm sorry for inhaling the same oxygen as you🙏

y/nl/n: LMAO

It was kinda cute, kinda stalkery. Every single thing you posted he liked, seconds after. Praising you like you were an absolute goddess. At first you thought maybe it was a fake account but no, he was the real deal (he sent you a picture of his ID with blurred out details). When you Googled his name, you didn't expect his adoptive dad to be the BRUCE WAYNE. You might not be Wayne obsessed but everyone in Gotham know who Bruce Wayne was.

jasontodd: You busy??????

y/nl/n: no, why?

It was late almost 3 in the morning and you'd been occupied by messaging some guy who slid into your dm's six months ago. You were surprised when a incoming video call notification popped up on your phone. You were hesitant to but answered it. "Hello?" His camera was moving a lot but it was quite on his side, you could hear how heavy his footsteps were. You were laying in bed cozied up holding your pillow in your arms, another propping up the phone.

"Gimme a second." You watched him set the camera up in his bathroom, toothbrush hunging from his mouth. "There." He continued brushing his teeth. "Where are you going dressed so handsomely?" He snickered. "Well, pretty lady. It's not where I am heading but where I've been. I just got home from a friends after party."

"Probably using the art of back bending to bring home chicks?" You tilted your head. "Unless the chick was you, pretty, Ion want her near me." You smiled, He yawned causing you to do the same. "Dick is making me brush my teeth cause I threw up in his car and now my breath stinks." You nodded, listening to his little rant. "He's getting me a bucket so I don't choke on my vomit in my sleep, how many people do you think died like that?"

"Well-" You attempted to answer but he cut you off unintentionally by throwing up off screen, thankfully before returning to the screen, rinsing his mouth and rebrushing his teeth. "Who's Azealia Banks? Is she a influencer?" You smiled. "She's in the music industry, a real controversial person." He hummed.

"Who are you talking to?" Jason picked up his phone. "My girlfriend and you can't see her cause she's mine, your brain will hurt with beauty." Jason kissed the screen before you heard Dick approach him. "C'mon Jay get in bed now."

"No." You watched Dick attempt drag Jason— who was throwing lowsy kicks and punches at Dick— to bed. You giggled watching the camera angle change in the hands of drunk Jason before the phone fell somewhere. "Get. In. Bed."

"No." It was funny hearing Jason have an actual sibling bond. "Fine, I'll just call in the big guns. ALFRED!" You could hear Jason mumble a 'fine' before a ruffling of blankets as he got in bed. "NOT ON YOUR STOMACH!" Dick yelled, picking up the phone, looking at you. You waved at him sweetly. "Jason, there's no way you pulled her. She's so pretty and nice and you're... Jason." Jason snatched the phone frowning. "I don't like you." Jason laid on his side, Dick was on his way out of the room before turning to Jason to say something. "Hey, Y/n, do you wanna get married tommorow?"

"Uhm, I'll discuss this with sober you, okay baby." Jason hummed. "Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?" You smiled. "Okay." Dick smiled leaving the room.

He fell asleep a little over a hour later. You pressed a kiss to your screen before hanging up and going to bed. He woke up with a throbbing headache. He grabbed his phone seeing you posted on your story 30 minutes ago. He opened it seeing a picture of him and you on a video call. Did he call you last night?

"don't go! what if I choke on my drunk vomit and die?!" - jason todd. He chuckled reading that. He liked the story immediately getting a reply.

y/nl/n: alive then?

He smiled.

jasontodd: Sorry about last night lol.

y/nl/n: lol don't worry about it :))!

After that you sent him a picture of lots of you cooking, which he liked. What you did next though surprised him.

y/nl/n: 📍live location

y/nl/n: join me? we can discuss our marriage, boyfriend ;)

He never got out of bed faster.

[sanguineterrain]

Hello madame terrain, I have been thinking about boxer!jason for some time now and I'm wondering if you have any thoughts about him? if not that's totally okay too ☺️ love all your writing!!!

lol hi, madame terrain is adorable 💕 also boxer jason is big brained!!! let's do it ;)

boxer!jason todd x gn!reader. reader is an apprentice to a ringside doctor (leslie thompkins). tw creepy OMC intimidates reader, jason protects/defends r, fluff, my attempt at boxing stuff.

****

Leslie said she'd be back in an hour.

You're currently at the thirty minute mark, hoping for a natural disaster, an angel, anything, because...

"Doc gives me stuff for my pain all the time," Keith says for the third time. "It's real simple."

Keith Dixon is one of the gym's regular fighters. You haven't seen enough matches to judge his fighting, but you can confidently say that his people skills are in the toilet.

He'd barged into the office ten minutes ago and had refused to leave even when you said Leslie was out.

You need to make a break for it.

"You have to wait for Dr. Thompkins," you say, lifting your chin. You won't give in and risk losing this job. No way in hell. "I can't administer medications. I'm not licensed."

Keith rolls his eyes. He's a hothead, new to Gotham. Likes to fight. Likes to fight mean.

"Look, you're new. I'm just giving you a heads-up on how things work around here," he says, backing you up further. You're nearly against the wall.

Where the hell is Leslie?

"I'm sorry, Mr. Dixon, but I can't prescribe painkillers without her supervision."

"Uh-huh. Know what I think? I think you're just not cut out for the ring," Keith says, cornering you against the cabinet. "Cute thing like you shouldn't be hiding in an office. The Doc ought to know better..."

"Is there a problem?"

The new voice makes you flinch, just a little. Keith pulls back, posture easy but guarded. The second guy holds himself similarly. He's also well-built, clad in a gray tee and black sweatpants. His hands are wrapped.

"J-man," Keith says, daggers in his teeth. "Man, I thought you were benched for the week. You meet our new assistant? They're still getting used to how things run around here."

The mystery man looks at you. His eyes are a lovely teal.

"Is he botherin' you?" he asks.

"I—" You swallow. "I was just explaining to Keith that I can't administer medicine without Dr. Thompkins."

Keith huffs. "Jason, tell 'em how this works."

Jason faces Keith. They nearly match each other in height and bulk. You hope to God they don't decide to brawl here and now.

"I think you're the one who needs a reminder, Dixon," Jason says coolly. "Seems pretty straightforward to me. You need to wait for the Doc. So was there something else you needed?"

Keith's mouth presses into a line. You can tell he's got about a hundred ugly thoughts on his tongue right now.

"Nope," he grits out.

"Mm. Then step off."

Keith obeys. You slip out of the corner.

"I'll come back," he says.

"When the Doc's here," Jason adds. It doesn't sound like a suggestion. "If y'need a reminder of her schedule, I don't mind giving you one."

Keith looks at you. You hold his gaze, heart pounding.

"Of course," he says, all false charm, and pushes past Jason. "See ya in the ring, J.T."

You can't relax even after Keith leaves. Jason remains in the doorway. You close your eyes at the thought of dealing with another fighter. It's not bad with Leslie here, but this is your first time alone. It's already a disaster.

Obviously, none of the fighters respect you like they respect Leslie, even after three weeks of you working here. You don't even know all of the fighters.

"Hey." Jason doesn't move from his spot as he asks. "Y'okay?"

"Yes," you say, keeping your back straight. "I'm fine. Do you need medical attention?"

"I just came to get some more wraps. But I can get 'em at home."

His voice is softer now that Keith's gone.

"No need," you say. "That's what I'm here for."

You get a roll of tape from the drawer. It takes you three tries to pull the edge out. You drop it twice.

You feel Jason's eyes on you. You keep pulling the tape, but it won't comply.

"I got it," he says. "I can wrap myself. Toss it here."

You pause, tape half unfurled. "Dr. Thompkins told me to do all wraps myself."

"Leslie's cool. I won't tell her, anyway."

You shake your head. "Why don't you want me to wrap your hands?"

Jason glances to the side. He leans against the doorframe, purposely casual.

"'Cause Keith's a big guy. And I'm a big guy. And your hands are still shaking."

You tighten your grip on the tape.

Jason gestures to the office. "This is your space. I won't come in if you don't want me to. That's not how this works."

"It's... it's the job," you say, startled. "I don't—I've heard that Keith's rough with everybody."

"Yeah, well, he's an asshole. You shouldn't have to be rough back. Good fighters turn it off outside of the ring. I don't want to make you feel small. Alright?"

Tension bleeds out of your spine. You no longer feel like prey.

"It's easier if I wrap them for you," you say, and turn your back on him to fetch the antiseptic.

The tiles behind you creak as Jason hesitates for a moment. Then he walks in and sits in a chair, so you're higher than him.

He looks up at you. He really does have beautiful eyes. His eyelashes are dark and delicate. There's a faded bruise on his cheek.

He's boyishly handsome, with a mouth that looks like it smiles a lot.

"Do you also fight here?"

He nods. "Since I was eighteen. Been here a while."

You take one of his hands in both of yours. Jason's already thrown out the old tape. His knuckles are cut up. They're covered in scars. His fingernails are short and neat.

His hands are big, far bigger than yours. Veins feed into each other from the backs of his hands up his forearms.

You take out the antiseptic spray.

"Might be cold," you warn.

"'S okay."

You spray his skin. Jason doesn't even flinch.

"Your hands are really soft," he says.

"Oh, thank you. I use Isley's Salve. Works great."

Why did you share that?

Jason's mouth quirks. "Yeah? Might have to try that. My hands have seen better days."

"I have some in my bag." You let go of the half-done wrap and dig through your backpack. You pull out the small tube of salve and squeeze some onto his hands.

Jason is quiet and still as you rub in the lotion. He's pliant as you finish the wraps, letting you turn his hands over. You pull the wraps tight.

"All done," you say, face suddenly warm like you've been caught doing something you weren't supposed to.

He flexes his hands a few times. "Thanks. You're good. I can see why Leslie chose you as her apprentice."

You shrug. "Anybody can wrap hands."

"Dunno. I've seen some pretty shit wraps in my time."

"Oh. Well, um, I'm here most of the time, so feel free to come by and get your wraps changed."

He hums. "Sure. Don't worry 'bout Keith. I'll take care of it."

Your eyes widen. "I don't want more trouble..."

"You won't get trouble, I promise. We don't tolerate that here. 'Sides, he's overstayed his welcome."

You nod. "Okay. Thank you, Jason."

"No need for thank you's. Y'alright getting home?"

"Yes, I'm okay. Leslie's dropping me."

Jason nods, then picks himself up. He pauses like he wants to say something else, but he strides out of the room like he's in a rush instead.

"Well, um. G'night," he says over his shoulder. "Take care."

It's about fifteen more minutes until Leslie returns.

"Everything alright?" she asks in a tone that tells you she already knows the answer. "I ran into Jason on my way in. He said Keith Dixon gave you some trouble. I'm sorry I took so long. Are you alright?"

"You ran into—I thought Jason went home for the night."

Leslie looks like you've just told her the sky is red. "He wanted to make sure you were okay. So he waited till I came back. Are you okay? Did Keith hurt you?"

You shake your head. "No, I'm alright. Just shaken up. He's a bully. Wanted painkillers."

Leslie frowns. "He won't bother you again. I'll make sure you're not alone."

"It's okay. I mean, Jason was there."

She nods. "Mm. He's a good boy. I know his father."

"Yeah, he, uh, was nice. I wrapped his hands."

Leslie raises an eyebrow. Your shoulders rise.

"What?" you ask. "You said to practice my wraps."

She shrugs. "Nothing, nothing. I did tell you that. I'm glad you got some practice in."

You follow her to her car. Soon, Leslie pulls out of the lot.

"Leslie, do you mind if we stop at CVS?"

"Sure. What for?"

You feel for the little tube in your pocket.

"Need more Isley's Salve... I'm, uh, running low."

[saylorsaysstop]

Sleeping Together | 18+

also shout out to @joyful-enchantress because after she commented on my Grayson post earlier, this all came to my mind. 🤪

**underneath the cut**

DICK GRAYSON

Dick talks you through it. He wants you to be vocal and makes it his top priority that your needs are met first

"Tell me what you need, baby." - "That's it, just like that, baby. You're close, aren't ya? Yeah, look at you. Come on, grind a little harder. I know you can do it."

Giving head is a sport for Grayson and he excels at it. He eats you out like you're his last meal

The man is an acrobat. He's flexible. All the positions he can get the two of you in should be new entries in the Kama Sutra

Dick loveeeees head in return. He won't ever make you do it or ask, but he loves that you're so eager to pleasure him

"I've been good, haven't I? No other reason to explain why you're gifting me that hot mouth of yours, sweet girl."

Dick isn't afraid to moan either. He knows when the noises start coming out of his mouth, you get off quicker

Let's go back to that acrobatic thing. He may or may not figure out ways to suspend you in the air... He may or may not be such a kinky man that he's got a separate room in your house where he plays sports with you... I'm not admitting it, I'm just saying

Loves for you to suck him off when your head hanging off the edge of the bed. He also loves to eat you out simultaneously

Dick Grayson is a boob man. Both hands on deck, he squeezes and teases your nipples by plucking them between his fingers. Loves to suck on them until they're stiff peaks. Likes to push two fingers into you while he bites your nipple, stroking until he hits that sweet spot. You're a goner after that

Loves for you to take what you want

"Atta girl, ride it just like that. This dick belongs to you, right? Act like it. Pleasure yourself... Yeah, go ahead and play with your clit. Wanna see you come. You're so pretty when you do."

Dick treasures loving on you after sex. He rewards you for your good behavior and a job well done with baths, massages, you name it. He ensures you're taken care of and reminds you that he loves you dearly

JASON TODD

Jason likes it rough. He loves it when he sees your marks on him, whether it be teeth or nails. He collects each one like it is a kill

Ropes? Knife play? Any sort of bondage? Jason Todd is your man

Loves to bind your hands above your head while he rails you deep into the mattress. Loves the idea of you being helpless and unable to take it anymore. Gets him off real quick

Loves some dirty talk

"Take this dick like a good girl." - "You're soaking wet, babe. All this for me?" - "Not gonna waste a drop of this cum, you hear me? You won't let a drop leak outta this cunt - my cunt. You got that?"

Jason likes to get right by your ear while he grunts with each thrust, nipping your earlobe in between before trailing his tongue down your neck and sucking on your collarbone

"Gonna mark this pretty neck up, baby."

You two go at each other until you're a panting mess. Clothes strewn all over the place. Jason and you stare up at the ceiling, laughing like teenagers as you calm down from the high

"I think that was my new personal best. Ten orgasms. Ten!"

Yeah. Jason likes to place bets on who can give the other more orgasms in one night. Right now, he's winning

Jason loves your butt. Loves to slap your cheeks as he bends you over his lap as a warm-up. Carresses and bites the plump skin when he's kissing his way down your body before he hikes your legs over his shoulders and feasts

Likes to feel you breathe against him. He loves to feel your chest rise and fall when he's on top and you're panting for every breath while chasing your orgasm

He's a man who likes to edge that's for sure

"Uh-uh... That wasn't it. You can do better than that. Moan a little louder, that's it..." - "I'm being mean? No, you just need to work harder to come. You wanted this." - "Atta girl. I promise I'll let you come after this."

Jason's aftercare is you two taking a hot bath together where he can just hold your back to his chest and actually talk. You're his safe space

TIM DRAKE

Tim, albeit quiet, is a delectable switch. One day he's all soft and endearing, the next he's plowing you into next week (and blushing when you mention it afterward

He does a lot of studying on sex. What positions feel the best for you, different ways he can go down to ensure he has you screaming his name for all of Gotham to hear

Gets a little possessive during sex, especially when he's losing himself in it

"You're mine, do you hear me? Mine, sweetheart. Mine." - "No one else is going to claim you. You belong to me."

He likes it when you pull his hair, especially when he's going down. Feeling you guide him further into you is like a bolt of electricity shooting down his spine

Tim loves to get you relaxed before sex too, especially if he knows it's going to be a long night. He'll run you a warm bath, pamper you with sweet-scented lotions, and get you nice and ready before he unleashes. Fun fact, those nights are when you know he's gonna get rough

Tim won't admit it aloud but he loves a good missionary position or where you two lay facing each other. He loves to caress your face and kiss you softly as he takes you

"Lift your leg, sweetheart... That's it. C'mere. Let me watch that gorgeous face of yours when you fall apart for me, yeah?"

Like Dick and Jason, he VALUES aftercare so. Freaking. Much! Takes a warm cloth to the mess he made between your legs and kisses along the heated skin, telling you how much he loves you

[sasayego]

touches

prompt — all the ways jason todd touches you / jason todd x reader

tags — some nsfw

A STORMY SEA AT BAY;

his fingers are harsh, and you wince when he grips at you like. that.he doesn't mean to hurt you, by god, no. he doesn't ever want to see you flinch. and as soon as you do, he stumbles back.

you realize what's happened. he's going to hate himself now. "jason, no—" you call out, reaching for him, but he stumbles back and runs into the darkness of the night where it'll shroud him. and in that night, he basks in his anger and self-loathing for a while before the boy in blue comes to calm him down. you sometimes wish you could, but he'd be too ashamed.

"i'm sorry," he mumbles when he's back in your arms. he holds you, tight, but not like when he was angry. there is a silver tear dancing on the edge of his eye but he never lets it drop. "i didn't mean to." and you know he doesn't so you hug him back and don't say a word.

EUPHORIA IN A SKY OF STARS;

he grips your thighs as tight as possible, and his face is buried between the valley of your thighs. he's letting out sighs of pleasure through quiet muffles as the only thing you can hear is the sound of your own whimpers and his comments—"fuck, pretty girl, you look so fuckin' good right now. give me another one, yeah?"

your thighs are shaking and you cannot even think properly, not when his eyes are hazy and he looks up at you like that. his fingers are digging so deep into your flesh that they draw out bruises, his tongue swirling around, and occasionally his teeth graze over your inner thighs. you forget that his helmet is to the side, that you're on a rooftop and anyone can appear in seconds and see you two like this. "best fuckin' thing i've tasted in my entire life," he croons, as he shoves two fingers in you.

SLEEPING IN AT SUNRISE;

his touches are gentle, soft. your hands run over the bruises he's collected from last night, and the blood that's dried on his hair or his head or back from last night's patrol and you worry about him. your fingers cup his jaw and you plant delicate butterfly kisses over his face in worry. "i worry about you, jay," you say when he whines at the touch but you know he adores it.

"i'm alive in one piece, aren't i?" he muffles as he flips over to the side so his back faces you. you pout and he knows you're pouting. he flips right back in a flash and he grabs you by the neck and pulls you close before pressing a kiss on your forehead and pushing. yourhead so it lies in the crook of his neck.

"i'm never leaving you," he murmurs, his eyes hooded and lazy. "it's gonna take everything in this universe and more for me to ever even think about not making it back to you." and those are just words, you know, but words have a lot of meaning.

I THINK ABOUT YOU EVEN IF I DON'T KNOW IT;

"so that's what i said to him that other day!" that blonde girl laughs, brushing her arm against jason. jason just nods at her, doesn't even mean to say anything ot her and just keeps his blank face. you've been scowling at her for the past five minutes, and for the past four minutes, she's pretended like you don't exist.

jason looks down at where she's touched him and then shrugs. "i have to go get a drink," he says blankly, his face neutral. the both of you turn around in near perfect sync and start walking down together. jason grits his teeth in anger, thinking about something else (maybe how that blonde girl has been treating you), and takes your hand and squeezes it. he squeezes it so hard it hurts a bit.

"jason," you wince, looking at your red hand. it's cutting off blood. he looks down at your hand in surprise and then his eyes widen for a few seconds before letting it go.

"i'm so sorry, i didn't know i was holding your hand, and with that grip—" you shush him peacefully.

RED IS JASON TODD'S COLOR

"fuck," jason snarls as he pushes you against the wall. there's something in his eyes. jealousy. red is always jason's best color to wear, you've known that for sure. his hand wraps around your throat and he kisses you hard.

"you liked making me jealous, didn't you?" he challenges, raising an eyebrow. there's a glimmer in his eyes as his lips bite down on your neck so hard that there's a faint sliver of blood. you let out a yelp. "seeing me all riled up for a guy whose cock is probably the tiniest fuckin' thing you've ever seen. tell me, did you like me jealous of a guy who can't even please you the way you know i can?"

you open your mouth to answer, but he clamps his hand. over before ou can speak. "don't even fucking answer," he snarls, before ripping your jeans off from your body. you didn't even know anybody could do that. "i'm about to teach you what the right answer is."

[solar-wing]

⚣ Rag Doll 🤬

⚣🤬 A/N → My first Jason Todd fic I posted on my other account! This full NSFW will be posted here since taking it out would lead to half the story being taken out. WARNINGS: NSFW. Breaking&Entering. Consensual-Non-Consensual. Bondage. Anal Sex. Rough Fucking. Mentions of Throat-Fucking. Domination. Breathplay (Choking). etc.

⚣🤬 Summary → Jason hasn't gotten it through his head that you and he were broken up. But, for the vigilante, you haven't gotten it through your head that you belong to him. He plans on reminding you of that little fact. Sorry for your window.

⚣🤬 Words → 2.1k

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🤬

“I’m not arguing about this with you again, Jason!” You shouted into your phone while pacing back and forth in your living room.

It was damn near midnight and you were just about to get in the shower after a hard day. Your job was stressing you out, your neighbors were getting on your nerves, and your ex-boyfriend, Jason Todd, hadn’t gotten it through his thick head about the ‘ex’ part.

“I don’t want you fucking working with him, Y/N!” Jason shouted back through your earphones. You had to switch the call to them after you got tired of holding the phone against your ear for over half an hour.

Your job put together a new team for an important project after your company merged under Wayne Enterprises. You were selected to lead this team, along with one of your co-workers who you had been aware was interested in you since you started working at the company.

Unfortunately, your ex was the jealous and possessive type of guy who upon finding out this information demanded you quit. It turned into a major argument that lasted for weeks until you eventually called it off with him after two years. Obviously, he wasn’t happy about that and refused to accept it. 

You kicked him out of your shared apartment, changing the locks, but it didn’t stop him from coming back, acting like you guys were on a break instead of actually broken up.

“I don’t give two flying shits, Jason! We broke up. You don’t get to tell me what to do with my life.” You repeated, for probably the 14th time within the last 30 minutes.

“Don’t raise your fucking voice at me, Y/N!” He growled through the phone.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like I’m your child, asshole!”

You heard him go quiet for a minute, though you could hear how hard his breathing was through the line indicating he was reaching his limit but so were you. Many people wondered how you two managed to stay together as long as you did since you both were hotheads.

“I’d remind you, Y/N, to watch who you’re talking to like that. Don’t think for one second I won’t-”

“You won’t what, fucker?” You cut him off, your patience non-existent at this point.

“Baby boy, please just-”

“No, Jason! I told you I am through with your controlling ass behavior. We’re over. Stop calling me, stop texting me, and stop having your family watch me. You have no say at all in my life anymore. If I want to go fuck Levi, Adrian, Steve, and the whole motherfucking HR team, I will do so. And there is not one thing you can do to stop me. So with that, goodnight, Jason.” You said, clicking the button on your earphones to hang up the call.

A deep sigh escaped your lips before you took your earphones out and placed them in their case. You walked to your bedroom and tossed the device onto the bed, missing the silhouette of a tall, bulky body standing on the building across from your apartment window.

You had just finished brushing your teeth and were about to wash your face when the sound of glass shattering from your bedroom alerted you.

“What the fuck?” You muttered to yourself before opening your bathroom door, looking to see your bedroom window in pieces. But that wasn’t what shocked you the most. What had you staggered and growing furious was the person you saw standing in the middle of the mess, dressed in his vigilante attire, just without the helmet.

“Jason Peter Todd, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?!” You seethed, a tight knot forming at the back of your head from your anger toward the beefy vigilante.

He held a smug grin, slowly walking toward you while grabbing something off his belt, “You hung up on me baby boy, and we weren’t finished talking yet.”

There was a dark tone to his words as he backed you into the corner of your room with him easily dwarfing you in size. The glint of the metal handcuffs in his hand shined in your eye as you let out a gulp.

Your wrists ached and were the color of an apple as they were repeatedly dragged and rubbed against the handcuffs that had you bound to the headboard on your bed. Tears pooled in your eyelids and ran down your cheeks as you felt Jason thrusting roughly into you with his hand squeezing your dick, denying you another orgasm for the 4th time. 

He’d been at it for over an hour, fucking you in every position he could think of all over your no-longer shared bedroom.

There was a growing soreness in your hole from your ex’s rough treatment, only slowing down every now and then to delay his own orgasm. He only would allow himself to cum when you did first. Such a gentleman.

Thing was, he would keep denying your orgasm until you submitted to him and agreed to take him back. Now, he chooses to accept your break-up! Great fucking timing…

His body hovered over yours as forced your legs wider with one hand while using the other to hold you around your neck. It was something from his possessive nature that just liked the feeling of control he got when he could squeeze and take your breath away at a moment’s notice. 

“A-Ah! Cl-Close a-a-again.” You whined as you felt your body jutting up and down with the shaking bed frame. 

The sound of fists pounding from the other side of the wall, your neighbors signaling their annoyance and request for you to quiet down, but Jason ignored them. Before, he would always stop and yell out an apology. He was considerate like that, but tonight, he couldn’t give one fuck if the entire building came knocking on your door.

You were his entire focus. All he cared about was you and making you feel every bit of pleasurable pain while at his mercy.

“Uh uh baby boy,” He grunted in your ear, squeezing down on the base of your dick again, preventing you yet again from reaching your blissful end. You felt more than heard the cry of frustration you let out, your head turning back as he licked and bit at your earbud.

Your body was littered with bite marks and hickeys, another thing from your ex’s possessive attitude toward you. The red marks would remind everyone else who you belonged to while the soreness from your hole would remind you. Jason’s size alone could have you squirming all alone without his rough pace.

Looking over his shoulder in the distance, you could see the mirror facing your bed, and Jason’s large frame fucking into you like an animal from behind. Even with his shirt still on, you could see how sweaty he was which did nothing but increase the arousal and need for release in your stomach.

Jason knew just how much it drove you crazy seeing his muscles underneath the compression material even when you guys were just out on a regular outing, let alone during sex. It was very obvious he did that on purpose just to make it even harder for you to resist him. He even kept his mask on too, probably remembering that one time you said you liked the mysterious vibe it gave him.

All you wanted at that moment was to touch him, to run your hands up and down his back and over his arms, or through his dark hair to grip and hold on as he pile-drived into you mercilessly. But, as cruel as fate was (fate being named Jason), your restraints would not give way no matter how hard you pulled against them. 

He let out an amusing chuckle at your struggling before tightening his grip around your neck, restricting your airways.

“Ja-Jason, please…” You gasped before he increased the pressure even more, stealing your breath away.

A soundless yelp escaped your lips when he gave a particularly hard thrust against your spot while rubbing his thumb over your red, weeping head, smearing your pre-cum all over before he slowed down to a dragging pace so he could speak into your ear.

“You know what to say, Y/N. I let you have this little charade to give you time to cool off like the caring boyfriend I am, but obviously, you needed a reminder of who’s in charge here. So tell me what I want to hear, baby boy, and you can have your reward.” He gruffly stated before his movements suddenly paused inside you and he released the pressure on your throat.

“N-No! Please- a-ah, fuck ... ! Please, Jason, I-I need…” You cried the second you felt him stop and the air came rushing back into your pipes.

Jason was buried all the way inside you, throbbing hard against your walls. You could tell he was close and was using this as an opportunity to calm himself down so he could keep fucking you if you didn’t give in.

“Those aren’t the fucking words I want to hear, Y/N.” He scolded in your ear with a harsh slap to the side of your butt causing you to scream out in pain before he tightened his hold around your neck again.

He brought his head up from between your neck, his hard stare looking you down as you tried to hold back the tears still building in your eyes. “Fuck, you’re so hot like this and you feel so good around my cock. You’re tight and wet and all for me. Stop torturing us both like this, baby boy. Just say it.” He dictated before leaning down to kiss your lips which were still swollen from when he face-fucked you for 10 minutes.

You suddenly felt him give you a pounding thrust, squeezing around your dick at the same time causing you to scream into his mouth.

“Come on baby, just say it for me. Who do you belong to?” He muttered against your lips, punctuating every word with another thrust and squeeze, forcing more tears from your eyes as your body shuddered from the pain and stimulation.

He laid soft kisses around your cheeks, treating your face like a flower but your body like a rag doll.

“N-nh, ah ... f-fuck ... y-you you…” You breathed, barely able to form any coherent words from his increasing grip on your neck.

“You what, baby?” He prodded, watching as your eyes fluttered close from the pleasure of his increasing thrusts, “Ah ah, open up those eyes, baby boy. You need to look at me when you say it.” He ordered, thrusting against your prostate again forcing you to open your eyes with another whine.

“I-I b-belong… oh fuck… t-to … ah you…” You muttered, hearing his growl in response.

“Say it again.” He ordered, punching against your spot again while squeezing your dick.

“I belong to you.”

“Louder!”

“I belong to you!”

“I said louder!” Your bodies rocked together with the shaking frame hearing items hit the floor from the wall where your headboard was banging against as the pounding from the other side started up again.

“I BELONG TO YOU!” You shouted at the top of your lungs.

You could hear the smirk in his voice as he smashed the head of his dick against your prostate before he leaned down into your ear, releasing your dick with an order, “Cum.”

Your body felt like it was encased in white-hot fire release overcame you, screaming out “O-OHH, FUCK ... !”

You twitched underneath him as your dick exploded with your orgasm, painting your stomach and his shirt with your white sticky cum while your legs were shaking from the stimulation as you came down from your high.

Jason feverishly increased his pace, fucking into you with erratic movements before he let out a loud groan, pushing as far as he could while shooting his load inside you. It caused an aftershock to turn through you, sending more spurts of your own cum out your weeping dick as he tensed and tried to hold himself still while breeding you.

He moved slowly back and forth, both your bodies still lightly shuddering in pleasure. He brought his face back over yours, pressing your sweaty foreheads together.

“You’re quitting tomorrow.” He stated, leaving no room for argument.

“Fuck you.” You replied, slowly catching your breath.

“Watch it,” He retorted with a small hard thrust while flexing his still-hard dick eliciting a small cry from you.

He chuckled at you pressing his lips against yours again before muttering out against them, "You're mine, and if I have to remind you of that again, I will."

☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[dxckgrxsonx]

You wanted asks, I shall give you asks. Can we get Jason with the following three prompts?

You can give me another one

Good girl - Good fucking girl

Don't be shy now, come sit on my face

(I can't remember the words for each of these prompts 100%)

They don't have to be in any specific order. Have a ball, Ella, dear!

**

Insecurity comes easy.

It comes as something reflective rather than purposeful or actively thought about beforehand. Catch your reflection on any shiny surface and you flinch away from it like it hurts, like the sight of yourself is nothing more than a punch to the gut. You do it on autopilot, without thinking, without really knowing.

There’s nothing manual about self hatred.

It’s not far off to say you don’t like the way you look.

It’s more accurate to say you don’t really like yourself at all.

You should have known that Jason would notice eventually. He can draft up mission parameters in one good sitting and has the ability to calculate bullet trajectories like simple arithmetic. He’s smart in a way that can cut, sharp like a blade, precise like a surgeon.

Deadly in ways you can’t ever imagine.

Unbelievably supportive in the ways you can.

Body language speaks in volumes to those who are willing to listen and Jason takes note of every little thing your body gives away without you knowing. You try to fold in on yourself when you’re overwhelmed, fight your own bones to make yourself smaller and smaller until you can simply slip away.

You tap the outside of your thigh then you’re mad, a quick three tap rhythm before a pause and then you start again, furious and shaking and tap tap tap. You do the same thing when you’re deep in thought, brain sifting through information both new and old and there you are, tapping away.

You hide your face when you’re nervous, when you’re shy.

Jason thinks it’s sweet but he’s always liked seeing your pretty face when he makes you flustered.

**

Droplets of water chase over your hip and down the outside of your thighs when you finish showering and start the hunt for your pyjamas. Jason lies flat out in the centre of your bed when you exit the bathroom and you quirk up an eyebrow in half formed confusion.

“If you’re planning on sleeping like that all night I might actually consider murder.” Jason opens one eye to glance at you before reaching out his hand towards where you’re standing. Smoothing your fingers over his open palm you slot your hands together and smile, “What are you up to, Todd?”

The faintest smirk lifts the corner of his mouth and you place one knee on the bed so you can lean over and kiss him softly, gently, smiling when he responds and nips at your bottom lip with almost too much teeth.

Jason silently pulls at your arm and forces you to straddle his thick waist, eyes cracked open and watching your face, cataloguing each reaction to his antics. Something akin to suspicion flashes across your features and Jason catches it immediately.

“C’mere, sweetheart.” He drawls, stroking at your still damp skin. Trying to guide you higher up with an insistent hand you freeze, head turning away to glance at something towards the window. ““Don’t be shy now, come sit on my face.”

“Jay–.” You whine, worried, aroused.

“Always wanted you to sit on my face, baby.” Jason confesses. “Indulge me?”

You’ve never been able to say no to him.

Shuffling up towards his greedy mouth you shudder when his breath brushes over the inside of your thighs, skin prickling and horribly sensitive. Jason sighs your name adoringly and grabs at your hips to keep you still when his tongue darts out to lick through your folds.

Whimpering when the flat of his tongue drags firm over your clit he coos just slightly then shoves his face into your pussy.

Greedy. Starved.

He’s messy with it, gets his mouth and chin glistening with your juices and you feel like fire, feel like you’re falling through miles and miles of open air, wings aflame on your back, burning burning burning until you’re crying and writhing, watching from the centre of all that heat as you come apart.

Jason is ruthless and takes everything you give, hips grinding down desperately onto his talented mouth as he suckles at your wet, throbbing clit as you come, tongue dragging over it again and again until you sink your trembling fingers into his hair and pull, unsure if you’re forcing him closer or further away.

“There you go.” He rasps, panting and groaning deep from the back of his throat, lips swollen and almost dripping with your slick. “There’s a good girl.”

The praise almost kills you.

Words fail you and you whine, clit twitching when he gives your pussy a long wet kiss, mouth closing over the bundle of nerves so he can write out the letters of his own name between each desperate pulse.

“Jay–hng–fuck!” Your hips jump forwards, almost flinching when he licks at your entrance, pussy grasping at the tip of his tongue as he pushes it in. His nose nudges up against your clit and every nerve flares awake, thighs quaking in his hands. “Oh…S’good.”

Smoothing his hand up your chest Jason hooks two fingers in your open mouth and shoves down on your tongue until drool spills down your chin, “Oh look at that. You’re making such a mess.” Every sound you make is garbled and Jason goes back to your clit, eyes lighting up when he notices it’s more sensitive now that you’ve come once. “I think you want to come again, don’t you?”

You barely manage to nod your head before Jason strokes and sucks at your clit until it flinches and comes again, twitching wildly in his mouth as you wail, body almost folding in half with the borderline overstimulation.

“Good girl—that's a good fucking girl." Jason manages to get out through a mouthful of your soaking pussy. Then immediately, “You can give me another one, can't you baby? for me, please?”

“I can’t–hurts–S’too much.” You slur, trying desperately to speak through his fingers in your mouth. “Sensitive.”

Making out with your clit Jason gives it gentle kisses, mouth soft, lips and tongue wet until you relax and go slack above him. The pressure is barely there and curls around manageable until he moves his hands to grab at your hips and sucks your clit, hard.

Your voice cracks on a yell and Jason shoves you over the edge for the third time.

“M’done.” You shudder, feeling like you can’t quite come down from your high. You swat at his hands and Jason rubs circles into your hips. “Please. Can’t take any more.”

“Okay.” Jason soothes, moving you back down so you can sit in his lap. “You did so well for me, baby. My good girl. My pretty girl.”

Tucking your face into the crook of his neck he kisses the top of your head and you smile, tired and shaking and swimming in nothing but praise.

**

Prompts are from this list.

[bruciemilf]

There's something deeply touching about Jason knowing he'll never be the kid Bruce saved again, but still maintaining some quirks, mannerisms, habits, pieces of young Jason Todd. They're small but cut deep.

Jason, when he allows himself to stay at the manor as a tiny indulgence, still acts like there's a barrier of lasers protecting Alfred's cookie jar, just so he and Dick would have an excuse to compare leaps.

He's still waiting for the lights to fall asleep so he could visit the library and get angry at Tim, or Bruce, or both, twins in audacity, for dig earing the pages they knew he'd read.

Of course Bruce finds him because he always looks for him, ridiculously fluffy pink robe that Selina bought him sagging on him.

He ignores the ball of sadness exploding in his stomach as he realizes Bruce is the one looking up at him now. It feels like a robbery, premeditated and calculated, " Jaylad, you have to nap."

" Bruce, I am a grown ass man, you cannot fucking tell me to NAP--"

There's an unspoken type of authority that surrounds gentle parents. Is Bruce a gentle parent? Well. He doesn’t need to hit Jason to get what he wants, that's for sure, " Excuse me?"

"...Just one more page?"

Bruce is also very weak for them, thought. "..Fine. don't tell Alfred."

When Dick proudly shows off his patrol record for the week, all preppy and shiny besides Bruce at the kitchen table, Jason hears it all the way from the couch.

Damian is a very sore loser when it comes to Mario Kart, he learned, " Todd! TODD! Come back here and taste DEFEAT! FIGHT ME LIKE A WOMAN, COWARD!"

" So yeah, 40 arrests are pretty good, I'd say,--"

" 40? That's adorable, I got 70. On a broken leg."

Bruce, suddenly spooked, turns to him, " You had your leg broken on patrol?!"

" A broken leg? Awwww. Killer Crock almost bit my face off, but hey. Nice of you to try."

"Waylon bit you?!"

" At least I'm not a COP!"

" YOU'RE STILL A COP?!"

" I'm working on it, okay?!"

But the biggest thing? Jason's so unflinchingly clingy on Bruce; When they first meet this 'Justice League' Batman joined, Jason requested to be there. A robin caricature, but he doesn't trust any of them.

Aside from Diana. Diana's always the exceptions.

" This is Superman, " Bruce may think that little blush goes unnoticed, but it certainly doesn't. " And this is my ba-- This is Red Hood. I trust him with my life."

Don't cry don't cry don't cry Jason chants in his head.

Superman extends his hand and a honey sunshine smile, " Red Hood?! Oh, I've heard so much about you. We have to work together sometime. Share stories about this one here."

He heard about the guy's X Ray vision. He hopes that if he does take a peek, he sees the sinister pull of grin on his lips, all teeth and no niceness, " I'm more of a hugger."

" Oh. Uh... Sure. I love hugs."

Jason makes sure to whisper, " He doesn't kill but I do," before pulling away. Then he turns to Bruce, going from standing at his full height to relaxing a little bit,

" I want bat burgers on the way."

Bruce hums and signals for him to lean down to get his head petted. Jason does. Even if he's embarassed.

[peachyloveswriting]

Can I have prompts D,I and M for my boy, Jason? 🫣👉👈

JUMP BABY --- Jason Todd X Reader (18+!!!)

SUMMARY: it a rather compromising position when you're tied to a chair and getting saved by your ex.

CONTENTS: minor angst, flirty Jason, horribly written smut, vaginal sex, light degradation, needy reader,

PROMPTS: M.) “If you don’t stop looking at my lips without doing anything about it, I will take you right here on this counter.” / I.) “I wasn’t the one who walked away from us. You were.” / D.)“We’re going to have to jump.”

NOTE: these MW2 fics offer a lot of advice haha. (Laughs in there's HEAVY smut below.)

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

Swallowing harshly, you look up at the violent red helmet and roll your bottom lip between your teeth. A gun is precariously pointed at the villain behind you, the permanent furious gaze of the helmet staring him down.

"Step away." The vigilante urges.

The tension feels so taut that just twitching could snap it like a spider web.

Sucking in a shakey breath and looking at the eye holes of the helmet you give him a pleading look. He and you both know he's just dragging this out for the sake of his own ego.

"It's rigged to blow. You kill me, I send you sky high." The villain claims.

You jolt as the gun fires. Behind you there's a thud and a soft ticking fills the air. Shoving the gun back in it's holster he rushes towards you with a knife in hand. Going around the back of the chair and kneeling down he cuts you loose.

"We're going to have to jump." He tells you. Standing and walking over to the window he sheaths the knife and motions for you to jump into his hold.

"We always do." You mumble. Hopping into his grasp with your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms behind his neck. As he perches on the window sill you tuck your head away. The smell from his jacket makes you feel uneasy, like you could melt and throw up all in one.

Reaching back he pulls a grapple from his belt and shoots it to the next building. Looking back over his shoulder at the building it lights up in flames, the glass shoots everywhere and the flames roll through into the sky.

He lands on the neighboring roof to begin his descent to the ground.

"Want me to take you home?" He asks as he jumps down to the fire escape.

Before he can move any further you jump from his hold with a grimace and swing your way to the platform below.

"Or... Do that." He mumbles as he trails after you.

By the time he reaches the ground your standing next to the bike with your arms crossed over your chest and your eyes narrowed as his form.

"You're the last person I'd hoped to see tonight, Jason. You should have just left me there." You fuss.

Swinging his leg over the bike, it roars to life. "Just shut up and get on."

With a groan you pull yourself on behind him. He puts up the kickstand and backs the bike up onto the empty sidewalk. Turning it back towards the road and getting up to speed you place your hands on his waist.

He's silent when he reaches back, patting your thigh as a signal to hold on tight. Fully wrapping your arms around his waist you lean down with him and begrudgingly tuck your head into his back.

This brings you back to days of old when you used to go caravanting around with Jason as Ares. He was the one who taught you ropes after you became a vigilante. Before that you were a mercenary, that's how you met. Being so close to him you were always going everywhere with him, you were a duo, a team. You even had a situationship going on for awhile. You'd kiss, make out, do all the things a couple would do but neither of you questioned why you weren't anything more.

Until you couldn't stand the thought of him with anyone else.

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

Pulling up to your apartment's alley he shuts the bike off and puts the kickstand down. You don't waste anytime getting off and walking up the stairs to your front door. It's a small two apartment building, both apartments are roughly the size of a house with the doors on the front.

Pushing open the front door and walking in, you close door behind you and flip on the livingroom light. The window to the fire escape opens and in comes Jason, just like the other times he used to come in after work.

"I didn't fucking invite you in." You seeth as he stands upright. You glare daggers at him while he pulls his helmet off and places it on the counter in the kitchen.

"That's right." He says. "I invited myself in."

It's so hard to act like you're even angry at him still. Sure it hurt but it's hard to even live alone after being together for so long. And he's still just as hard to resist.

"Oh yeah? Didn't I say you're the last person I wanted to see tonight." You retort.

He snorts. "Aren't you the the reason why?"

Shocked you stare at him in disbelief. Your lips are parted but not a singular word comes out. Squeezing your hands into fists, you take a step back towards your room.

"I wasn't the one who walked away from us. You were." You spit.

Putting his hands up he shakes his head. "Look, I didn't come in to start a fight." He starts.

"So, what did you come in here for? Just to torture me?" You hiss back.

"No." His eyes flicker to yours. "I came here to tell you I was wrong. I've been thinking about it ever since I disappeared and I realized I ruined a really good thing."

It's hard to believe the soft words coming from his mouth, and it's even harder to keep composure. Watching as he looks at you with sweet eyes. It's hard to resist giving in and going back to the way things were. You can see his mouth slightly down turned into a frown. You give in.

"I should have made you leave before you opened your big mouth." You say.

Jason furrows his brows in confusion. His hands slowly begin to lower back to his side. You sigh. "I won't say that I still feel the same, but I do feel something. I want you around, I just don't know if I want to keep you around." You begin to rub your arms, a nervous habit you've developed over the years. "After you just left I felt abandoned and that hurt me a lot. It changed the way I see you and I don't think I can just go about trusting you like that again unless you prove yourself."

You watch as his lips tug up into a smile. "I'll prove myself. I will. I just need to know how."

Your head grows foggy at those words and suddenly it feels like two years ago. You can't stop looking from his eyes to his lips. He studies you furiously, his gaze racking over you while you stand there flabbergasted, unsure of what to say.

Turning you move into the kitchen where you lean up against the counter with your eyes trained on the floor. Heavy boot steps grow closer and Jason's massive form towers over you. Looking up at him there's a glint in his eyes, like he's looking at you but not for the reason you think. It's like he's studying you and It sends a shiver down your spine.

He's standing so close to you and it doesn't help that you can't stop looking at him. It's like you repulse at the thought of him but can't get enough. He's so huge, in height and muscle mass. But god those lips, they're so...so....perfect. It's all you can do to not remember the way they sucked at your cunt like it was candy. He would lap at your juices till he took it all and even then he was hungry for more--

"If you don't stop looking at my lips without doing anything, I will take you right here on this counter." Jason's husky low voice whispers in your ear, his breath tickling your skin.

Eyes wide, you can feel your breath hitch in your throat. A low chuckle erupts beside you. Suddenly you realize just how trapped you are as he leans forward with his arms keeping you in place.

"I'd say I didn't miss this but I miss making sure you were mine." He growls. His head dips down to your neck and a sharp pain pinches at your sensitive skin. You hiss through clenched teeth as he clamps down, his tongue lolling around and sucking at it till it's raw. Squirming beneath him, your hands grip at the edge of the counter behind you. Soon enough a harsh grasp finds it's way to your hip and a hand slips up your shirt.

Lifting his head, he's grinning devilishly. The room feels like it's on fire as his lips collide with yours. Closing your eyes you melt into his touch following the same rhythm you always have.

Your hands travel up his torso to the back of his head, pulling him deeper into the kiss with your hands tangled in his hair.

His hand under your shirt slips to your boob and kneads the mound of fat. A sharp throb of pain dully flows through and he plucks and pinches at your nipple. You gasp in pain. Slowly but surely you edge your way back to the floor, your back pressed against the counter.

You know you shouldn't be doing this but his knee slipping between your legs feels like heaven. The way he rubs against your clothed pussy has you grinding against him for more. He smiles at that, knowing what he does to you and watching you squirm is what makes him so enthralled. You're like a bitch in heat when he does you like this but now that you've been starved of this treatment for so long you're practically getting off on his knee alone. Your breathless whimpers are making him hard, watching you desperately grind against his leg makes this primal feeling rise in his burning chest.

It's all Jason can do to keep from tearing your clothes from your body and using you like a ragdoll.

Your body grows hot as you grind against him, the pleaser ebbs into your core and you let out a soft groan, your hands sliding from his hair to his chest. It's feels like your in a race for your life, they way the tightness builds in your stomach taunting you for what's to come. Suddenly, as if you've been stripped of the only thing keeping you together, Jason's knee drops from your reach. Letting out a distressed whine you press your groin against him, his erection pressing on your waist through his pants.

Pulling away from the kiss he glares down at you, a lusting glint in his eyes. You can feel excitement run through you as he glares down at you like predator to prey. His hands move from your chest to his pants. Undoing the buckle he lets them drop to the floor leaving him in his boxers. Looking down at the bulge in his boxers you hum. His hands are hasty in the way he tugs down the last layer letting his cock spring free. The top is bright red with a bead of precum at the tip.

"On your knees." He orders. His deep voice sends you to your knees immediately and your eyes are glued to his cock the whole way. Eagerly grabbing the base, you lean forward to lick the precum from his tip. For a moment you can see his stern face falter above you. Taking this as a good sign you wrap your lips around the tip, your tongue making sure to focus on the tiny sensitive whole.

A groan erupts from his lips and he reaches down, his hand grasping your head and pushing you down all the way. Gagging around his cock at the back of your throat tears prick your eyes. His head leans back and he starts to thrust into your mouth mercilessly. You try to breath through your nose but the feeling of his cock jabbing the back of your throat keeps you from doing so. Sinking further against the floor you let a free hand wonder down to your clothed clit.

"Put your hand on your thighs and don't touch yourself until I say so." Jason growls. His pace slows just enough for you to take a breath before he starts hammering down your throat again. Obediently, you place your hands on your thighs, gasping so tightly that it begins to sting underneath your grasp. You can't help but rock your hips against the floor for more friction, knowing that he might see you do it anyway. The thrill excites you.

Realizing what your doing he abruptly pulls himself from your mouth, your saliva dribbles from his cock and your lips as you hazily look up at him. "Stand and turn around." He demands.

Breathing heavily, you slowly rise to your feet. Still hazy from not really being able to breath you attempt to catch your bearings. Before you can his hand roughly grasps your waist twisting and shoving your shorts and underwear to your feet. Turning your head to look back at him you yelp from the sudden grasp of your hair, bending you over the counter he leans over you his cock lightly poking at your entrance. "You're such a horny fucking slut aren't you." He growls out. A loud slap fills the room and heat explodes at your ass cheek, whining at the pain you bite your lip hips grinding against him.

Forcing your face against the counter he grasps your hips roughly with his other hand, a grasp so tight there was sure to be a bruise in the morning. Guiding himself into you he goes full send until your in at the hilt a loud moan escaping your lips as your hips roll back into him. "Yeah, that's right. Who do you really belong to?" From the corner of your eye you can see him glaring down at you, his eyes sharp. "You--" You groan as your I'll back against him again. Taking the hand on your hip he gives you another firm slap on the ass. You tense and alarmingly loud shout leaving your mouth. "You Jason!" You say.

With no time to adjust to his size he starts ramming into you at unforgiving speeds. Pain spreads as your walls stretch and tense around him, your juices coating his cock making it easier to slip in and out of you. The slapping of his skin against yours is all you can hear and he removes his other hand from your hair to hold your hips in place. The way he slams in to you rocking you with pleasure as you desperately moan against the counter, it's becoming foggy with your breath. "That's right,"--Jason growls--"you're mine."

With each thrust it's like he's reaching further inside of you, his grunts slowly beginning to turn animalistic; except they're not grunts they're growls of pleasure, pleasure in knowing that the only dick made for you is his. All the while you can't help but go limp in his hold. It's like your seeing stars the way he fucking you just right. The pleasure is melting you into an incoherently babbling mess underneath him. Just the before the pressure begins to build in your gut and you desperately squeeze around his cock begging your release. He's never let you cum without permission and you don't want to disobey now.

"You close huh?" He growls above you. Letting out a nod of agreement your eyes screw shut and you start pushing back against him, matching his pace. Abruptly being left empty you push back against him, a sad moan leaving your lips. Before you know it your being spun around to face him, his hands grabbing your waist and tossing you into his hold. As you land with your shaking legs wrapped around him his cock slips right inside of you. The pleasure explodes inside of you, throwing your head back you moan frantically lightly bouncing yourself on him. Your juices spill down his cock, dripping onto the floor beneath you, your hands harshly grasp his shoulders while you tuck your head away in his neck.

Just as you slow to a stop against him he starts rutting into you again, his hands grasping your ass as he bounces you on his cock. The overstimulation leaving you screaming in pleasure as your sensitive walls flutter around him. "I didn't say you could cum, slut." His voice is rough in your ear as he bounces you. In that moment you can feel something dangerous creep up your spine, fear consuming you whole. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." You stutter out between moans. His movements stop and he begins walking you away from the kitchen and into your room. Throwing you harshly into the bed he jumps on top of you to immediately find his way back inside of you. Reaching up and grabbing his biceps you squeeze harshly, the pain is blinding as you arch your back against his hips.

His hands find their way to your throat, applying a light pressure around it. He's slamming into you again and for a moment your unsure of your fate with him over top of you, his hands around your worn throat. He doesn't need to say anything for you to get the message, you fucked up. He's never been this rough with you before but now...god you can't get enough. The tears streaming down your face soak the bed beneath you. You can feel the air leaving you the tighter he grips around your throat, making your moans become strangled. Surprising and hard, your secons orgasm of the night hits you unexpectedly. At this point you're unsure of when Jason's going to stop. Seeing your face grow pale he loosens his grip around your neck and moves a hand down to your abandoned swollen clit.

He's barely grazing his finger against it when another orgasm rushes you onto a moaning fit of hysteria. "Oh god! Jason!" You cry out. Even through his pace is just as brutal as it was at the start his breathing is uneven. You can't stop the next orgasm that hits you like a truck. Your vision is white as you throw your head back, his neam leaving your lips more times than either of you care to count.

"you like being fucked like the slut you are yeah? Cumming soon many times for me..." His voice trails off into a whine, his hips stuttering against yours. Taking both his hands he grasps your hips and lifts them higher off the bed, he's hitting just the perfect angle. The pleasure sends shockwaves of pins and needles from you, it's all you can do to keep your composure. All you can see now is stars as you cum for what feels like the millionth time tonight, your arms are completely lip at your side as he hammers into you.

Throwing his head back, Jason let's out a guttural noise you've never heard before. Suddenly you're filled with warmth as he spasms inside of you, his cum filling you to the brim and spilling out the sides. You can only hum in euphoria as he lays down on the bed beside you pulling you against him. As he does, he shoves hia cock back inside of you, making you clench involuntarily.

"we're scheduled for the morning too love. Sleep well while you can still feel your legs." He purrs.

[sophiethewitch1]

In Death's Embrace Pt. 2

Jason Todd x Death!Reader

Part one!

Jason shoots up in bed, his hand stretched out. He’s sweating, drenched in his own panic in fear. His hand falls into his lap, still twitching. He doesn’t remember what he was dreaming about, doesn’t remember what he was trying to grasp.

He knows he failed. He knows it slipped through his fingers like sand. He doesn’t think there’s anything more tragic in the world. He doesn't know why.

“Once again, you amaze me. Breaking the rules of the universe, not once, but twice.”

His hand is wrapped around his gun before you even finish the sentence. It’s pointed between your eyes once you do. To your credit, whoever just broke into his apartment without triggering any of his alarms, you don’t even flinch. No, you just fold your hands behind your back and give him an odd look.

You tilt your head, eyes moving over the scars on his face and catching on the lock of white hair he sports. Then, your face breaks into a smile, and something in Jason’s heart jumps. There’s a knowing in your eyes that he doesn’t like. An understanding.

You see through him, somehow. He doesn’t like it. He’ll shoot you for the offence.

“Who are you? How did you get in here?” Jason demands, assessing you like you assess him. You don’t look like a combatant, in long dark flowing fabrics. Still, he knows not to underestimate someone based on their appearance.

That damned clown never looked like a threat. And now he was standing here, with someone who seemed just as crazy in his bedroom. Only someone that crazy would break into his home.

“Are you going to shoot me?” your words are teasing, eyes fond. Maybe you’re crazier, then. You don’t believe he’ll do it. He will.

He should have already. It’s base curiosity that holds his trigger finger. That’s what he thinks it is, at least.

“I might,” he finally says, “Again, who the fuck are you?”

“It’s interesting talking to you like this. You knew who I was straight away last time, but this time you turn your weapon to me,” you continue, ignoring his threat. A muscle jumps in his cheek, annoyed at your presence, at your blatant disregard for him.

“Last time?”

Your smile turns into a bright grin. He’s momentarily stunned by it.

“So, you really haven’t won just yet. That gives me a small measure of pride,” you say, walking over to the window with your hands still behind your back, “Maybe enough to spare you from my anger.”

You look over at him again. Purse your lips.

“Maybe not.”

“I think you forget who is holding the gun,” Jason reminds you, clicking his teeth at the way you just shrug.

You go quiet. No more teasing words or ominous warnings. Jason should shoot, shoot now. He’d hate the cleanup, hate the mess, hate all the effort, but it was necessary. You were dangerous. That much was obvious.

Instead, he opens his big dumb mouth and asks, “What do you want?”

You sigh, shaking your head. “Is it terrible I don’t know? Rules are rules after all, but this situation is… complicated. You’re not another Sisyphus, you don’t even want to be here.”

“You broke into my home and started threatening me. That doesn’t sound complicated,” Jason insists. This is such a fucking weird conversation. And Sisyphus? Jason had done his homework, he knew about the mythical man who cheated death. He thinks he’s actually quite a lot like Sisyphus.

He still doesn’t appreciate the comparison.

“Yes well, I don’t want to be here either, de-” your voice cuts off, eyes widen in surprise, and then narrow on him like he caused some great offence. Inside him, he feels his dead little heart wither even further at the sight. Like you being upset with him was one of the worst mistakes of his life.

Once again, you broke into his house. All he’d done was tell you to get lost. Oh, and maybe threaten to shoot you, but who cares about that. He soothes the momentary panic, insisting you obviously hadn’t.

Which is dumb. He’s being an idiot. Jason Todd is being an absolute moron right now, and he just needs to shoot you.

Instead of paying attention to the gun trained on you, you stare out his window, at the streets of Gotham’s Hill district below. The sun is rising, rays bursting through the fog. The people are just getting up with it. It’s one of the few times the city is anything close to quiet. Most are still sleeping, and so is crime.

Warm sunlight catches on your cheek, and again, something inside Jason cries out at the sight. It’s worrying.

“I think I want you dead, again,” you confess.

Jason’s breath whooshes out of his lips, and his gun arm twitches for a second. Well, fuck him, that’s certainly a statement. And again, why hadn’t he shot you?

He still doesn’t do it. He must be crazy, too.

“I’m being greedy. I always have been, of course. It’s what I am… But especially this time, I think I’m being too greedy,” you sound sad, your fingers trailing across the wooden window frame, “I think I shouldn’t be here, but it’s the ones like you who make it hard.”

You rub dust against your fingers, and Jason feels embarrassed for the state of his home. He realises a second later what a stupid thought that is, you broke in. He wonders how many times he’ll have to repeat it to remember it. He feels uncomfortable and off-kilter, and he knows it’s because of you.

He needs to get you out.

“I’ve always hated the special ones, you know. The smart ones. You’re too good at pulling me, manipulating me, tugging on my strings like a puppet. You make me human,” you turn back to him, crossing your arms and resting against the sill. You’re comfortable in his home, more so than he usually is. Calm, relaxed, like the world is at peace, and worries are something of the past.

He wonders what that must be like. Fucking delightful, he bets.

“Are you not human?”

You raise an eyebrow in response.

Shit. Ah, fuck it. His finger tightens, and the recoil jerks his arm. The silencer keeps the early apartment quiet. Quiet, if not for the sound of the bullet clattering to the ground.

You both glance down at the crumpled piece of metal sitting pathetically on the floor. You lean over, pick the piece up, and then lift it to your eye, watching that same sunlight reflecting the early morning in the steel. A small rainbow flitters across your skin. You close your fist, and you stroll over to Jason.

It takes him a moment to remember to be wary of you, and by that time, you already have his hand cradled between yours.

You place the remnants of the bullet in his scarred palm.

“I expect an apology for that later,” your voice is soft, sweet. Loving, even after he shot you in the chest. Not like it did anything. Your fingers curl around his, tracing every crack and crevice. You do it with concentration, with precision, like you were made just to touch him, to comfort him.

A memory, gone in a flash. He feels it’s loss like a toothache.

He swallows, “I’m sorry.”

You laugh, and the sun’s not outside, it’s in his bedroom and it’s smiling and it’s everything and it’s here in his grasp and he knows it’ll be okay again. It has to be okay again. You said it’d be okay, didn’t you? He can’t remember. His head’s swirling, spinning, falling right into you. Right back into you.

“Or now, that’s fine too,” you sound delighted. He’s glad.

You let go of him, and move back to the window, drawn by the view outside. Jason's hand clasp and unclasp. The street obviously fascinates you, your eyes flicking back and forth and tracking the movement of every soul outside. He wants your gaze back on him.

Jason clears his throat. You glance back at him, then pointedly, his right hand.

He can feel his face flush, embarrassingly. He’s still holding the gun. He turns the safety off and tucks it back under his pillow.

He clears his throat again. He wants something from you, expects it, really. But he can’t tell what it is. He thinks you know, though. That you’re withholding it, for some reason. He’s irrationally irritated at that. You said you were greedy, but nothing could compare to his greed.

Even if you wanted him dead. He was starting to put together the pieces, but he couldn’t seem to feel alarmed. No, it simply wasn’t necessary, with you here.

Still, it’s not quite enough. He wants more. He wants to know more. So he waits for you to speak again.

“I’ve thought about doing this so many times over the years. It would’ve been selfish, and more than that, outside of my duty. You’re not one of mine anymore. For a little while, at least.”

He wants to be. He wants to be yours. He wants it more than he can breathe. If he’s yours, maybe you can be his.

You glance to the side, thinking out loud, “But then you went and started remembering. I’ve worked very hard to make sure that’s impossible, you know. That the memories from my realm stay there.”

You turn a disapproving glance his way.

“Of course, far be it for me to get in the way of a Wayne and his decision to break the world. You lot do that far too much, give me too much work,” you mutter that last part, hand moving to your brow. Like you’re massaging away a headache. He should be doing that for you.

“But you did it. And you’re here. And now I am, too. And I have to go soon.”

You drift closer to him, and Jason’s breath catches. He’s still. He doesn’t make a single movement, scared he’ll scare you away. He realises that’s stupid. That you caught a bullet to the chest. That you’re stronger than anything he could imagine.

He still thinks he could startle you if he’s not careful. That you’re like the mist outside, incorporeal. But Jason can do anything if he puts his mind to it. He knows how to catch the wind, how to gather steam on the underside of glass, how to cup sand and water and feathers and everything that would ever want to be outside of his reach.

You’re out of his reach. He has to let you step into it.

You stop a foot away from him. He grinds his teeth, and again, you raise a brow at him. He doesn’t move, despite his muscles screaming at him too. You give him a nod and take another step closer. He still doesn’t move, and you give him a satisfied look.

“So, what should we do, Jason?”

“How do you know my name?”

“What? Did dying strip you of any brains?”

The banter is familiar. He doesn’t mean to ruin it.

“Do you have to leave?” again, a voice in his mind whispers. You look sad, again. Again, again, again. All of this is an again.

“Eventually. Sooner rather than later,” you sigh, “You can keep a secret, can’t you, Jason?”

“Not if you leave.”

It’s a bold move. You take a step back, and he winces. Back and forth, back and forth… Still, he doesn’t take the words back. He can’t, because it’s the truth, and now that you’re here, there’s no going back. He’ll do anything to keep you with him, and if you go too far for him to reach, he’ll follow you.

“I think that’s an unfair request,” you say, and he shakes his head.

“It’s fair. You don’t have to stay forever, just a while.” Now that, that is a lie. You seem to know it, too.

You look out the window again. Jason, after a moment's hesitation, moves over beside you. You don’t flee, your attention is on the people below. He opens the window for you, and you give him another smile. He collects them like the rare treasures they are. You lean out into the air, and he freaks, then realises you’d shrugged off a bullet. He stays close, vigilant, anyway.

“I’m curious, I have to admit. What’s this place like?” you ask, resting elbows on the wood. The streets are foggy, as they usually are in the morning. The Hill isn’t the nicest place, not the cleanest either, but you look at it like it’s heaven incarnate. He can see his neighbour down at the local grocer, the old woman who hoards cats seeing her grandson off to school, and one of his guys hanging out on the street, keeping the space safe.

Under his orders. The Hill wasn’t the nicest place, but he liked to keep it as nice as possible.

...Peaceful, he wanted the people here to have their peace. He was obsessed with it, really.

“It sucks.”

You laugh again, music to his ears, “Not the best advertising.”

“I take it back, it’s the best place on earth,” he replies, barely paying attention to his words. He’s seeing how close he can get to you. How many inches he can claim. His face is almost in your neck by the time you lean back, and he curses under his breath.

“It doesn’t need to be,” you say, pushing away from the sill and turning to wander around his room. You take in everything about the space. From the general mess, to the Jane Austen books crammed into his bookshelf, to the mask he’s left half-hazard on his bedstand.

You watch it all, just as fascinated with the world outside as the one inside. He wants to believe that means he’s special to you. And if it doesn’t, that just means he needs to work a little harder.

Finally, you turn to him. You take in every facet of him, once again. Your all-knowing gaze finds his hair again. You seem especially fascinated by that. You lift your hands, and he’s in them before he realises he’s moved.

You map his features with your hands, and he makes a little sound in the back of his throat. Ignoring that, you wipe the bags under his eyes. He feels his sanity slip away under your touch. You trace the scar on his chin, the one above his left brow. The stubble along his jaw. The bump in his nose. The edge of his lips. He wonders at the smirk you give when he groans. And finally, you come to that strand of hair.

You tug on it. A memory fizzles again, and to his frustration, he can’t quite grab it. Can’t quite take it, claim it. It’s not his, not yet.

You haven’t given him permission to remember. He wants it, he wants it, he needs it.

“I think I can stay, maybe. Just for a little, just a little. You want that, right?” your hands cup his face, and he knows, somehow, that you’ve done this a thousand times. And if this is the thousand-and-first time you’ve held him like this, he’s glad. To be back in your embrace is the sweetest pleasure. The greatest relief.

“Yes. Yes, yes… yes, I do,” he’s nodding, he’s begging, he’s pleading with you. Just for a moment more, just a second more. Just a little bit more, before you let him go again. He leans down and presses his forehead to you, sighing in your scent, the wheat reeds in the wind, the warm sun on skin.

He wonders what he has to do to make sure you never let go again. He wonders if you’ll let him do it.

You shake your head, giving him a rueful smile, “You really are too cute, darling.”

That nickname. The key to his heart, his mind. Every single barrier keeping him from you is gone, crumbled by your will. He is thankful you’ve given them back. He is thankful for every moment you ever had with him. And he’ll make a thousand more.

He presses his lips to yours, arms holding you close. When you melt into him, sigh into the kiss, he feels a euphoria he didn’t know could be true. He feels a relief he didn’t know even in his days under, even when you only held him.

He feels alive with it.

“Thank you for coming back,” he whispers against you, and he can feel that familiar, that damning smile spread.

“You left me. I had to hunt you down myself, Jason dear.”

Maybe he couldn’t have his peaceful death. But he had a loving one, and that was all he needed.

[nocturne-pisces]

Hurricane

Jason Todd x Reader

Mostly like PG-13.

Allusions to heavy abuse.

You think you must have been starved as a child.

It’s the only way that he could leave you this hungry, this hollow. You tell yourself that it isn’t normal to want someone like this. You tell yourself that it isn’t healthy to want someone so much that it twists your ribs around themselves, makes you fold in on yourself because if you don’t the wind will catch and carry you off. 

You’re so empty you hear the breeze whistle in your throat, half drunk with a beer bottle in your fist blowing across the opening like a whistle and your whole body is warm. You don’t know if that’s the alcohol or the fact that he’s sitting across from you. 

“What’s up with you?” 

Jason levels you with a stare, clacks his beer bottle against yours in some mockery of playfulness even though you’ve barely said a word to him all night. 

You try to shove it off now, try to swallow down your feelings as the sensation of the bile crawling up the back of your throat burns at your resolve. 

“Huh? I’m fine–”

“You’re a shit liar, kid.” 

You hate that he calls you that. Kids are innocent, pure; the first time Jason met you he’d had to pry you off of some man while you were trying to cut his fingers off for feeling you up. Jason told that man if he ever caught him doing some shit like that again he’d take a whole hand. Fucking greaseball nodded because Jason was more than a full head taller than him and held him off the ground by his stupid fucking stained shirt. 

You’ve always hated that you didn’t scare people like that, you think maybe if you did you could have avoided some hurt. 

You roll your eyes, because you are a shit liar and Jason knows better than anyone when you’re keeping things from him. Because he’s the only person you’ve let this close in longer than you probably have the functional front lobe to remember. Concussions are a bitch like that.

“I think I’m just gonna go home,” you offer, knocking back the rest of your beer before your ribcage gets so brittle that it collapses and he sneezes on the dust. 

“Alright then, magic man, keep your secrets.” 

“You’re obnoxious.”

“And you’re keeping shit from me. I thought we agreed not to do that with this whole sidekick thing–”

“I’m not a fucking sidekick.” Venom drips from your teeth, a snake backed into a corner with nowhere to go but forward viciously.

“And this is what I’m talking about! Any other day you’d just punch me and tell me to get my shit in check but today you look like you’re ready to slit my throat.” 

“It’s not off the table,” you murmur, more to the ceiling than to him, right before the last of your beer slides down into your echoing gullet. 

“What is going on with you?” 

“Just some personal shit, Jason. Don’t worry about it.” You try to give it finality, but Jason can’t even die on someone else’s terms so he doesn’t let this go either. 

“What, like your period?” 

You don’t even try to stop your hand when your fingers close around the beer bottle and throw it at his head. He ducks and it shatters on the wall behind him, shards of glass raining down around his chair. You know how that feels. 

The bartender’s voice is booming from the other end of the bar. 

“You two. Out.” 

He’s bigger than both of you combined and you don’t feel like arguing anymore so you wave your hand as you dismiss yourself, leaving Jason to pay for the abhorrently cheap beer. 

It’s humid in Gotham, suffocating your every breath with smog and uncertainty. Maybe you should just find a place in Metropolis, start over again, but you’re so fucking tired of running. Everyone you have ever met, everyone that has ever left you has taken their pound of flesh. You feel like nothing but bones, knocking together like chutes on a bamboo wind chime before a hurricane. 

Jason is your hurricane. Your natural disaster of righteous salvation and you didn’t bring your arm floaties. 

You want to drown in him, want to inhale him and choke—

Even if it kills you. He’s never even had a girlfriend that you know of and how fucking idiotic would it be to ask Alfred if Jason’s available, how stupid to ask Dick if Jason’s interested in you.

You peel yourself out of your jeans, your bra, shove your arms through the most comfortable oversized t-shirt you can find and flop onto your back in the middle of your living room. 

The ceiling in your apartment holds no more answers than the ceiling at the bar and again you have to swallow back that hollowed out feeling. At some point your eyes slid closed and you slumbered listening to the breeze in the auditorium of your chest. 

—-

Everything is warm when you wake up, heat radiates from behind you and from the arm slung over your middle. 

But that can’t be right, this isn’t where you fell asleep. 

You don’t wait to ask questions, pivoting your body and swinging at whatever is behind you. Someone yelps in pain, your fist connecting with something face adjacent before it’s caught and held fast. Your knees come up to join the struggle and one heavy leg drapes across your hips to still you. 

“Goddamnit, will you fucking chill out?”

“Jason?” 

Just as you say it your eyes adjust to the light, make out the red bat on his chest, make out the shock of silver that grows in the front. 

“Yeah, me, shithead.” 

“Why are you in my bed?!” You struggle against his hold, it only gets tighter. 

“I came to check on you after patrol and you were like sad girl passed out in the floor.” 

“So you decided I needed a cuddle?!” 

“I mean, that’s probably not such a bad idea given your fucking attitude—“

“Jason!” 

“No! I mean, I didn’t mean to. I tucked you in and just wanted to stay long enough to make sure you were okay and then I fell asleep.” 

He lets go of you, lets you get as far away from him as you can without falling off of the bed. He looks like you shot him with his own gun. 

“I’m sorry. I uh- I crossed a line coming here-“ 

“No, wait,” you stop him, reach for him as he moves to get up. 

“I don’t understand where I lost you-“ 

You don’t let him finish. You rush him,  connect your mouth to his because you don’t know how else to explain it. He doesn’t react immediately, and you wish that the floor would open up and swallow you whole but it doesn’t. 

You pull back, sit up and on your haunches and stare at his dumbfounded face. There’s only a second of silence between you before a hand strikes out lightning fast, thunder clapping against your sternum as you’re jerked forward. 

One hand cradles your head, allowing you no room to escape from the kiss suffocating you like the most beautiful Gotham smog. Wisp of smoke soft, signal of something lit aflame. The other presses into your back, calloused and unforgiving, like he’ll float away if he doesn’t hold on. You want to pull him closer but you can’t, your electrons are already crashing together. 

You tug at the buckles on his chest kevlar, fingers pinch and twist until they come loose and fall into a heap on the floor. His shirt goes too, the silver of sinew in his autopsy scar catching the moonlight. You’re struck dumb like staring into the eye of his hurricane and seeing the beauty in the pattern of his destruction. Like pitching yourself into a volcano for the warmth. 

Because he is beautiful; 

and he is broken. 

And those two things are intertwined and that is something you understand in your marrow. 

You press your lips to the point where the three lines meet right over his heart. His breath catches the same way it does when he’s on the unfortunate end of a knife, but you know there aren’t words you can tell him that will soothe that ache. 

So you show him your own. 

Bodies roll and he lets out a huffed breath when his back hits the mattress. 

A handful of raised tally marks, gnarled and stretched over time, one for every reason your father decided that he hated you that night. You didn’t plan on living after that, you’ve kind of been wingin’ it ever since. Jason’s thumb brushes over the cluster of violence on your stomach, looks from it to your face and understands the exchange. 

Your scars and his, all the things that have happened to you. 

He happened to you too. 

And you can spew adjectives about every natural disaster that has a name and still never aptly describe how much you love his chaos. 

And that's okay too.

[whltlock]

“playfully biting someone” from the physical affection prompts with jason todd pls?? i want to bite him <33

A/N: i need to bite him so bad

C/W: suggestive content, but nothing explicit

↠ requests

i.

Jason’s arm is wrapped around your shoulders, but he’s wearing short sleeves, so the curve of his muscle sits by your face. You stare at it, willing yourself to behave, but ultimately, you give into temptation.

One moment he’s watching TV, the next he’s jerking you inwards as your teeth sink into his bicep. “Hey!” he cries, flicking your temple in retaliation. He huffs, eying how your expression’s contorted into innocence. “The fuck was that for?”

“You look so yummy. Couldn’t help it.”

His eyes turn to slits as he stares at you. Eventually, he makes another incredulous noise, but he stops glaring.

ii.

You’re on top of him in his car, wild hands where they shouldn’t be in public, breath fogging the windows. Your lips are swollen, chest heaving as you break away from his hungry mouth.

His head tilts back as your mouth moves down his throat. You kiss and suck lightly, but Jason realises his mistake too late. Your teeth are already lodging themselves into his neck.

“Fuckin’ vamp,” he says, voice strained as he holds in a moan. “Should I learn to grow garlic?”

You smile into his skin. “That’s a myth,” you murmur, laving over the sensitive spot, causing him to shiver. A red blush blooms beneath his goose pimples.

“Right,” he says, hands gliding up your bare sides, edging your shirt upwards. “I’ll invest in stakes, then.”

iii.

He’s fresh out the shower, glowing, sexy, a stormy mist left in his wake. As such, your feet take you to him without another thought.

Immediately, your hands slide over his water-warmed skin, revelling in his mass and scars. He watches you wordlessly, enjoying your fond touch.

You hold his waist as you start to kiss his chest. You kiss his jaw, his throat, his collarbones. Your fingers run over his body, memorising all the planes.

“Which god let you leave their army?” you tease, eyes flicking up to his. His head tilts sheepishly.

You keep touching him, kissing his skin, tasting him, and eventually your mouth closes over his nipple. He leans into you, tangling a hand in your hair.

But he’s ready for you this time. His grasp tightens, forcing your chin up. “Swear to god if you take a bite out of my tits,” he says in a warning tone, though his expression is anything but dangerous. Dangerous for your clothes, maybe. “You’ll find out who cut me loose.”

You lick your lips, then a smile pushes your cheeks apart. “Is that a promise?”

Jason tugs at your roots sharply, pulling a heated sound from you. His voice is gravelly as he answers, “Yeah, baby. It is.”

+ iv.

You lay on your stomach, scrolling through your phone as you wait for Jason to come to bed. You hear him enter the room moments later, almost as silent as a cat as he closes the door.

The bed dips as he climbs onto it. You don’t acknowledge him yet. However, it’s to his advantage as his fingers crawl to the bottom of your shirt. They slip beneath, and then he’s lifting it up, revealing your ass to the air.

He gives your backside a squeeze with a pleased hum, admiring the view. You wiggle a little, adding to the show. You know he likes it when his hand passes over your skin more than a few times.

But then—teeth latch in your flesh, and you jump with a gasp. “Jason!”

There’s an imprint left as he pulls away laughing. He flops beside you, bearing a gorgeous, sunny grin. “Not as fun when it’s you, huh?”

“Actually…”

“Careful,” he says with a playful slap to your ass, still smiling. “Better watch out, ‘cause I get it now.”

[hearts4robs]

𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐧, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐧, 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭.🖋️

———

Fandom. DC - Batman - Red Hood

Pairing. Jason Todd x gn!reader

Genre. fluff/soft/sfw🍊

Word count. idk, not a lot

Warnings. A bit of cursing

Req. This was not requested, I just felt motivated and inspired(for once)!!

Summary. Just Jason reading and always having a book on him cuz my mans a nerd and I love him for it🤞😛 this is not proof-read!!!

Notes. Idk how to explain this layout or what it is, but it’s some kind of mix of a short drabble and some head-canons, yk?

———

“Did you pack an extra pen?”

“‘Course I did, I always do.”

Jason almost sounded a little annoyed at you, not that he really was. He always brought extra pens with him when it came to books.

“Just making sure.” You say, raising your hands in defeat with a soft, breathy scoff. Jason rolls his eyes at you, hurriedly grabbing his bag, books clattering against each other as he swings it over his shoulder.

“I’ll be out then.” He announces, messily stepping into his shoes. You walk to the hallway, arms crossed over your chest as you lean against the wall, watching, as your big, beefy, book-worm of a boyfriend struggle to shove his feet into his shoes.

“Just untie them and step into them normally, Jay-“

“Oh, piss off, I’m behind schedule.” He quickly cuts you off, finally slipping his heel into the shoe successfully.

“Alright, alright.” You chuckle, stepping forward as Jason yanks his jacket off of its assigned hook. “Bye,” you kiss his cheek, a matching kiss meeting your cheek as he presses his lips to yours. “love you! Say hi to Alfred from me, please.” You remind him, both that you love him and to say hi to his beloved (and absolutely amazing) butler.

“Will do.” He says simply, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “Love you too, stay safe and don’t burn down my kitchen.” Jason reminds you, hastily, as he makes his way out the door, jacket carelessly resting over his arm, rummaging through his bag.

“Our kitchen, Jason!” You yell after him, shaking your head with a stupid grin on your face, the door to your apartment falling closed. You turn around to leave and return to the kitchen before the door swings open again.

“Babe, I need my pen. Have you seen it?”

You whip around, frowning with a soft, confused look as Jason stands up the doorway, halfway inside, open book folding in hand.

“Did you not just say you had it?” You question, cocking your head slightly to the side as you go to the nearest countertop, moving various books to try and search for his pen.

Jason rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair.

“Just give me my pen, please.” He pleads, a mix of annoyance and embarrassment lacing into his tone. You laugh, grabbing his pen from a half-finished book. You walk to the hallway, throwing it to him. He grins, shoving it between his teeth in a small grin before he waves, disappearing out the door again.

—— ≛ ——

He forgets his pens all the time. He can’t help it, let my poor man be.

He always has a book on him. As a man who mainly wears cargo pants, he always has a book in one of those side pockets. A book small enough to fit and slip right into and out of his pocket when needed. 5 minute bus ride? He’s reading. 10 minutes walk? You best believe he’s reading while walking.

Jason writes every first thought into his book. He analyses everything, scribbling down on the pages, slapping on sticky notes if he runs out of space.

He cracks the spines of all his books(same). He doesn’t mind the messy look, he likes to think they look a bit more, loved, if that makes sense.

He doesn’t own a single bookshelf. All his books are piled on anything but bookshelves. Sure, the mansion has a library, but so does he. In the form of a kitchen cabinet, top of his fridge, beneath his bead and the floor. Works just fine!

He has a very specific system when it comes to writing in his books. He’ll underline a lot of stuff, but it depends on the thickness of his line, what the line makes him feel. The thicker the line, the more emotion.

He once got a book where whenever a character spoke, there was no “__”, not even a -__-. He spent double the time reading the book because he to re-read and self insert the “__”’s. Never bought a book from that author again.

#proudcolleenhooverhater (he’s never read her books but Babs said they were a no-go either way)

He loves to gift you books he’s already read and annotated. Once gifted you a book and whenever something reminded him of you, he’d make a little star beside the line.

This man cannot spell the word ‘lullaby’. (This has nothing to do with the headcanons, I just thought abt it.)

Jason has a 36 hours long playlist for reading (and assigned vinyls if he feels more for vinyls)

He does not give a fuck about where he is, he will read if he wants to. Gala? Ok. Family dinner? Dick stfu, he’s reading. Patrol? He has cargo pants, let him be.

Jason uses reading glasses but only when he’s at home, in the safe walls of his apartment because he will not be giving his siblings bullying material FOR FREE.

[sanguineterrain]

hiii! can i request reader being a vigilante and also jason’s ex? they’re on the same mission/have to work together and reader gets injured or smn?

thank you so much! I love your writing!

thanks for requesting! this turned into a whole ass one shot 😭 hope you like ❤️

jason todd x gn!reader. tw: fighting, exes, physical violence, reader is captured but they're fine, jason is NOT over you (and he doesn't want to be), making up, fluffy ending. 2k words (lol)

****

The Cave is exactly how you remember. Foolishly, you thought maybe it would've rotted after you broke up with Jason.

That's certainly how you felt.

But no. It's the same, and the other Bats are the same. Dick and Tim are there, probably because you're the most familiar with them... after your ex, of course... and Barbara already pushed the envelope by contacting you.

Still, Gotham is your city too. And if the Bats need an extra set of hands to protect the city, then so be it.

"Hey, glad you could make it," Dick says warmly.

At times, you envy how easygoing he can be. Even though he can have a temper, Dick Grayson, for the most part, shakes hands like a politician. He doesn't burn bridges. He doesn't hold grudges, at least not publicly.

You, on the other hand, are perhaps too much like his younger brother: you absolutely hold grudges, and you don't let go easily.

"Hi, guys," you say, trying to be civil. "What's up?"

"So—"

The roar of a motorcycle pulling into the Cave cuts Tim off. Quick anger soars through you as Red Hood dismounts the bike. He takes off his helmet.

You haven't seen Jason in a year. Judging by his physique, the breakup did not take a toll on him. If anything, he seems bigger than you remember. Asshole.

You can pinpoint the moment that he finally sees you, and he stops in his tracks.

"Oh, boy," you hear Tim mumble.

Jason is silent. You cross your arms, keeping your face neutral.

"I didn't know you worked with the Bats, Hood. Thought you flew solo."

Jason is quiet for another moment. Then he speaks.

"Things change."

"Clearly."

"Anyway!" Dick says, clapping his hands. "Pretty straightforward mission. Drugs, warehouse, bad guys, et cetera. We have to clear out these shipments tomorrow night, or they'll hit the streets, and we'll be too late. Robin and I will take Gotham Heights. Signal, Black Bat, and Red Robin will take downtown. And, um, you two can clear out the Bowery."

"Hood can handle the Bowery himself," you say. "Gimme another section."

Jason scoffs. You glance at him.

"Something funny?" you ask, teeth grit.

"Once again, you're biting off more than you can chew," he says, hands on his waist. "It's stupid and you're gonna get yourself into trouble. Just clear out the Bowery with me. Plenty of room for both of us."

"I don't know if you know this, but I actually do pretty okay on my own. Just because you're one of Batman's special little prodigies doesn't mean the rest of us can't get by."

You glance at the others. "No offense."

"None taken," Tim says. "You're far better adjusted than us, no contest."

Jason rolls his eyes. "C'mon. You don't have anything to prove to us. We know you're capable, but these guys are rough. We team up for safety."

"Oh, now you care about being a part of a team?" you snap. "You didn't give a shit when it was me asking—no, begging you and Roy to help me with the League mission in Sydney."

Jason's jaw tenses. "That was different."

"Guys, I think we should—"

"Why? Because you only get your hands dirty locally?" you ask, shaking with anger.

"Because if I had gotten involved, it would've put a target on your back," Jason says icily. "You would've been killed. You were nowhere near ready to take on the League. I wouldn't have been able to protect you and fight them."

"You know, right there, you sounded just like Bruce. Did you take tips from him?"

Silence. Jason's boiling with anger, you can tell.

"Bruce wouldn't have had the sense to stop you from going," he finally says, tone even. "He's not too good at that."

"Bruce would've cared enough to back me up. And he wouldn't have driven a wedge between me and my team."

It's just words; there's no way to know whether Batman would've actually backed you up. Probably not, considering his history. But it hurts Jason, and you take the moment to whirl around to look at Dick and Tim, who are wildly uncomfortable. Dick looks sad.

"It's better to team up," Dick says gently.

You bristle. "Whatever. I'll see you tomorrow."

You stalk out of the Cave.

Stupid fucking exes. Stupid fucking vigilantes.

****

"Okay, just to make things clear..."

"In and out. Report at the Cave," you say, tightening your equipment. "I got it, Nightwing. Over and out."

You silence your comm before he can respond. You're tired of their voices.

Thankfully, Jason has taken the hint and is on the opposite end of the Bowery. Which means you can slip away in peace.

You did this as a favor for Barbara, but now you're seriously rethinking getting reinvolved with the Bats. It never ends well.

The warehouses on the East End of Old Gotham are no problem. You clear out five within an hour. You check the comm briefly. It's pretty much silent, so you turn it off and keep going.

The West End, however, is a little harder.

Because you're only one person, someone figures out your pattern. You're clobbered over the head before you can drop in through the roof.

This is the last time you do a favor for anybody in Gotham.

****

You wake up tied to a chair. Your head pounds, and your lip is bloody. Not good.

"—way the Bat will show. They're a nobody vigilante."

"Tony, you're a fuckin' idiot if you think Batman doesn't know exactly what the fuck goes on in this city. Swear to God, I shoulda left you with Mom in Boise. Nothing but cotton in your head."

"Oh, fuck off, Al, you'd still be droolin' on your couch crying over Marie if I hadn't come back to Jersey."

"You little—"

"Very sorry to interrupt this family spat," you say. "But I'm on a tight schedule here, so if you could just speed things up..."

"Smartass, huh?" Al asks, waving a gun. "I wouldn't be so bold tied to a chair, toots."

"Toots? Are you a hundred years old?"

Tony snickers. Al glares at him and stalks over to you. He doesn't hesitate before whacking you upside the head with his gun. Your ears ring, and you hunch forward.

"Watch your mouth," he growls, and you're in too much pain to come up with a response to that.

Presently, you realize that your earbud is out of your ear. Probably destroyed. You have no other way of sending a distress signal. By the time you miss the report at the Cave, it'll be too late.

You were a failure then, and you're a failure now. Even your ex-boyfriend took pity on you.

Jason. God, look at how you'd left things. How his face had fallen when you'd called him Bruce. He used to love Bruce, and you know exactly what happened that changed that. And you used it against him.

Now you're facing the consequences. This is your own damn fault.

"Load everything into the truck," Al says into a walkie. "Then move out. Tell the others the same."

There's a crackled reply. Then shouting. Then silence.

You look up in surprise. Al curses and points at you.

"Stay here and watch them," he orders Tony.

"But Al, what if Batman comes here?"

"That's what guns are for, you freakin' idiot!"

You snort. As if guns could stop any of them, much less Batman.

But whatever. These guys probably didn't go into selling drugs because of their big IQs.

Tony and five other men stay to guard you. You work on trying to slip out of the handcuffs and rope.

Bang!

The first gunshot hits one goon in the leg. A second gets hit in the shoulder. Hip. Foot. Opposite leg.

Red Hood steps out of the shadows, then. Tony immediately looks sick.

"H-Hood? This ain't your territory, what're you—"

"You've got something of mine, Lewis," Jason says, voice smooth and dangerous.

Tony decides that, fuck his brother, he's getting out of here alive, and runs. Jason doesn't pay him any mind, instead walking to you.

He cuts the ropes first, then picks the handcuffs. Jason roughly rubs your wrists and ankles, pushing blood back into your extremities.

"What're you doing?" you ask. "Go get him. He's meeting his brother downtown."

You can't see Jason's expression through the helmet, but if looks could kill...

"Hood—"

"What. The hell. Is wrong with you."

You scowl. "I didn't come here for a fucking lecture."

"Well, you're gonna get one. This wasn't the plan. And you turned off your comm? Are you trying to get yourself killed? You have a death wish or something?"

"It didn't make sense to put both of us in the Bowery—"

"You could've died tonight!" Jason yells.

"And wouldn't you have liked that!" you snap back. "Proves the fact that I'm a failure quite nicely."

Jason tears off his helmet. His eyes are wide with anger and... guilt. Helplessness.

He's afraid.

"Don't you fucking say that," he says lowly. "I'd rather die again than find your body."

"What the fuck do you care?" you snarl. "I'm not your responsibility, remember? What does it matter if I dropped off the face of the earth?"

"Because I still love you!"

All of your anger drains.

Your body buzzes like it wants to feel him again. Traitor.

"That would kill me," Jason finishes quietly. "And I wouldn't come back from that death."

Your mouth feels like you swallowed chalk. And bees.

"You love me?" you whisper.

"You're hard to get over," he says. "Still haven't managed it."

"But... you said our breakup was for the best."

Jason sighs. His anger fades. "It was. I was a jackass. I let my shit with Bruce and the Pit and everything get in the way of what was important. Which is you."

"You were good to me, Jay," you say. "And we were okay. Till... till Sydney."

Jason winces. "I should've handled it better. And I should've treated you better."

"You're a good man, Jason. I don't regret my relationship with you. I regret it ending."

He looks at you. His face is twisted in pain.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you," he says. "And you're not a failure. Not even close."

You scoff, your eyes wet. "Aren't I? Couldn't even handle a simple drug bust."

"No, you're not. Nothing about what we do is simple, even if we're gaslit into thinking so. In this life, you need someone to watch your back. Even B doesn't work alone."

You try to stand, suddenly feeling like a raw nerve. You stand up too fast, though, and blood rushes to your head. You might also be mildly concussed.

Jason immediately slips an arm around your waist as you teeter forward and puts you upright.

"Easy, sweetheart," he says, and doesn't let go until you're steady.

You raise a brow. Jason grimaces.

"Sorry. Force a' habit."

You scoff, suddenly shy. "Habit, huh? Still think of me as your sweetheart?"

"Never stopped."

You roll your eyes, but it's fond now. "Anybody ever tell you you don't know how to move on?"

"Mm. I've heard it once or twice."

Your lips tingle. You've missed kissing him.

"I'm sorry I compared you to Bruce," you say. "You're nothing like him."

Jason shrugs. "Some of me is exactly like him. The fact that I didn't put a bullet in anybody's brain even though they kidnapped you isn't me at all. But I forgive you. And I'm sorry I hurt you. I didn't know the Sydney mission had festered so much."

"It's okay, Jay. You're right, I wasn't ready to take down the League or kill anybody. I'm grateful you stopped me."

Jason takes a careful step forward, eyes darting to your lips. You smirk.

"Hot for communication, are we?" you ask.

"Oh," he says, suddenly reticent. "Sorry. Too forward. Shit. I've... I've just missed you so much. I thought maybe you—that there was a vibe—but if there isn't, then—"

You take the last step and kiss him, and your lips buzz in satisfaction. Jason kisses back just as eagerly, hands flying to your waist and squeezing. But his hands roam, holding and cupping like he's been starved for the last year.

"I missed you too, Jaybird," you say between kisses.

[tinkerbelle05]

Single parent Bruce Wayne batkids being protective and (healthy) possessive over Bruce?? Batkids who have differing opinions on who Bruce should date?? Yes, yes, yes!!

I imagined that the kids are pretty used to Bruce going on dates as Brucie Wayne, to keep up the playboy persona. All of them have worried about varying degrees. Some took the time to do background checks on the person he was going out with and others decided to spy on them.

Hell, they would’ve been doing just that if Alfred hadn’t stopped them. Said something about how Bruce is an adult who can make his own decisions. They all knew the butler was lying through his teeth.

But they were all comforted by the fact that Bruce didn't have any feelings. That most likely, there would be no second dates with that person, they would fade into the faceless void that was the Gotham elite.

That assurance wrapped them up in a blanket when Bruce was out later than he was supposed to. When he came back happy and giggling rather than the usual indifference or just exhaustion.

“This is weird, right?” Duke questioned one day. They were all in the kitchen waiting for brownies that Jason was stress baking them.

“What is?” Jason asked-mumbled as he was setting the timer.

There was a definite tension in the air around them. For a full house of people, it was quiet. Just the sound of mindlessly scrolling on the phone and Jason’s baking filled it. The silence lingered either way.

“That we have this protectiveness of Bruce,” he explained. “Like he goes out for a ‘date’ and look at us. All nervous and fidgety. I mean, it’s been an hour and no arguments between Tim and Dami.”

No one had an answer for that. It was one of those that were complicated and simple all at once. Bruce was a person with feelings even though he tries to hide them, they are present. They exist. And he breaks, easy and often. And shouldn’t that be reason enough? Because he’s a person who has so much love to give but has been burned too many times.

But continues to love either way.

“Because he’s our dad and no one’s ever gonna be good enough for him, duh.” Jason answers, unfiltered and blunt. He was the most vocal in opposition to these dates in the first place, or Bruce going on dates in general.

“But it's all fake though? We all know that for him it might as well be another business meeting.”

Jason opened his mouth to respond when Bruce walked in, and as usual he was bombarded with a million questions. Duke’s question was forgotten by all of them.

“Where did you go?”

“What did you do?”

“Who was it?”

“How was it?”

“Guys, guys, calm down,” Bruce chuckles, “I just got into the house. Let me settle in first.” There was a faint redness of his cheeks, a glint in his eyes.

That only suggest trouble.

“And also, my date isn’t the type of person you guys are thinking of,” he starts off, walking towards the den. His kids follow him like little ducklings following their mother. “It was Harvey Dent “

“The fucking D.A?! Two Face??” Jason yells, alarmed. Harvey Dent wasn't the type to have fake dates with people.

“It was a real date,” Bruce admits to them. He gets comfortable on the couch and all of his kids surround him, preparing to latch on to every word. “Only Alfred knew about it because we know how you kids can get. I really like him, and I know that you have your suspicions, especially about him. So, please?”

“No!” Jason said, a frown on his face and his arms crossed. “I don’t like him, I don’t trust him, and he isn’t good enough.”

“Jay-“

“I agree with Todd, Father,” Damian cuts in. “My mother is a more suitable choice if we’re being honest.”

“Eh, if we are actually being honest, it’d be Superman.”

“Superman?!” Jason questions with disgust written all over his face. “Dickface, I know you have some hero worship going on with him, but that's the most basic of basic.”

“Plus, it’d be weird if I was dating my Dad’s boyfriend’s son,” Tim added.

“For once, Drake is correct. Neither Dent nor the alien is the correct choice for Father. Like I-”

“No, little brother,” Cass said.

“Yea, I agree with Cass here, Dames. I just don't see it working out with those two,” Duke agreed.

The argument continued well into the night and in true Wayne fashion, it in a debate style with well-thought powerpoints and some insults thrown in of course. No one had any agreement on who deserved their father.

“Um, do I get to make a decision on this?” Bruce asked in the middle of a laughing fit. It was nice to have the house full with people and laughter.

All of them looked at him with a blank stare and responded with a swift “No”.

[mysterycitrus]

I know I’m beating a dead horse here but I can’t stop thinking about that anon saying “don’t infantilize a 10 year old” like… that is a 4th grader. He still has baby teeth. I was playing with dolls at that age. Why would you NOT infantilize him???

beloved anon that ask is so much funnier when u see the full dissertation in my inbox

like this is written by someone from a different dimension. jason todd hurts mia and tim and shoots damian but apparently damian reciprocating is where we draw the line. the fundamental misunderstanding of red robin 2009, specifically the line cutting scene which was transparently a retaliation by damian to tim make a contingency plan for him. the idea that dick allowed tim to fall from (??) instead of tim landing on his feet because it wasn’t a serious attempt on his life. like tim and damians tenuous reconciliation is the throughline for like half of red robin and gates of gotham. idk man. what did u want dick to do in this situation? put damian in baby jail?