cinder–rose

11:11 twenty | new user!!

[cinder-rxse]

·✶· ─ · · cindy <3 | ᜊ masterlist. | ☡ guidlines. | Ꮺ reqs. |

i #lovejasontodd sm but i'm fairly new to the fandom/tumblr so bare w me pls <3

i love reading dark stories and therefor i'll probs write a few myself so keep that in mind when moving fwd.

i started this tumblr bc not many people portray jason in the right light (especially AK jason who is my fav) so enjoy whatever rubbish that comes out of my brain onto the page :)

[cinder-rxse]

⋆˚꩜｡ ONE SHOT FOR . . . / JASON TODD

⤷ in which he shows you a small act of his trust.

꒰ reporter!reader | angst + fluff | established (new) relationship | sfw ꒱

You'd known each other for years, but you two had been 'together' for about three months.

Together, meaning it'd been three months since he came to your apartment after a long patrol and said:

"I don't know why, but I think I need to be around you right now."

That was the day you'd figured he'd be coming around more often than not. The day you were officially–non–officially together.

The last couple of months had been meeting on the roof, late-night texts and the occasional hangouts whilst watching a shitty movie until he eventually left, which he always did so reluctantly, but mentioned it was necessary.

So when you got a text telling you to meet him at a certain burger joint at 8PM, excitement bubbled in your stomach.

Finally, a date.

You got dressed, did your hair and makeup, and set off at 7:45PM. Not missing the red-hooded figure that was jumping across rooftops, going conveniently in the same direction. He was looking out for you.

The date was... a little awkward. He barely spoke; he rarely did anyway, but you'd expect a little conversation in a situation like this.

"I have somewhere I want to show you," he says, somewhat abruptly

Your eyes flick up to him from the empty plate in front of you, "Yeah?"

Then, before you know it, you're on his bike. Riding through Gotham. You wondered where he was taking you, but you also made the most of how close you had to be when riding on a motorcycle with someone. Arms around his waist as you squeezed tight.

He stopped in a quieter, hidden-away part of Gotham. There weren't many nice places in this city, but this was a quaint little area.

You took off the helmet as he took off his.

"You can leave yours on the bike," he mutters as he nods to the handle. So you do as he says, his helmet under his arm as he walks towards a house.

You follow closely behind, "Is this your place?"

He nods, the jingle of his keys in his hand as he unlocks the door, stepping aside to let you in.

"Look, it's not much, but it's me," he shrugs, shifting subconsciously on his feet, "It's got everything I need. It's practical."

You just take it all in, it's a small house – very small. Pizza boxes stacked on top of each other, empty beer bottles around, dirty scuff marks on the floor. But it was so him.

He clears his throat, almost anxiously. You turn to look at him, "You're right, it's very you."

He huffs, crossing his arms across his chest, "Not a bad thing though..." Jason mutters, a statement – as if telling himself.

You smile at him, "Well, I like you. So not a bad thing at all."

He nods once, but notices how your eyes catch the wall behind him, then down to the workbench, both of which are covered in weapons.

Jason just studies you, swallowing as if caught in the act of something bad.

"You've customised them all," You say in awe, stepping closer to the wall and workbench of weapons.

He cocks his head at that, surprised, "Uh... yeah, I have," he eyes the weapons, then his gaze lands back on you.

"Some of the modifications on these are insane, Jason..." You're just studying the twin kimbers now.

He's staring at you, dumfounded.

"You know... guns?" his lips quirk upwards at the corners only slightly.

You nod, "Dad owned a shooting range, I know a little."

"How much is a little?" he asks as he shifts to stand beside you, staring up at all his handywork.

"Enough to know that you've fitted a new barrel to them, and added a suppressor, and those grips are entirely different from the ones that come with that specific model," you say in admiration of his work.

He turns to stare at you, "A little, my ass," he scoffs, "So you've known all this shit the whole time we've known each other?"

You shake your head as you turn to face him, smiling, "I was hired at the Gazette for my weapons knowledge originally, before I moved on to certain vigilante exposés." He's never been more impressed, just standing there in silence. Now smiling at you. You turn around and walk a little further into the small space of the living room that's connected to a kitchenette. "You could probably do without the pizza boxes, by the way."

He's snapped out of his trance as his facial expression falls back to neutral again, nodding, "Yeah, you're probably right."

You look at him, really look. Noticing how he looks uncomfortable, you walk back over to him.

"Hey..." You say softly, "If it's weird having me here, I can leave. We've had a great night and I don't want to–"

"No, no. It's not that..." he says with a sigh as he looks to his feet.

"Then why do you look like you want to run and hide every time I take a step in here?" You ask quietly.

He exhales sharply, "I don't... I don't bring people here."

You nod, waiting for him to continue, "Okay..."

"How do I..." he mutters, working out how to articulate his thoughts, "I think you matter to me." Jason looks at you, "And I... I wanted to bring you here because it's the one place I'm not lookin' over my shoulder, you know?"

You nod again, reaching out and holding a hand in yours. His eyes drop to it. "I'm listening," you reassure him.

He's still staring at your hands laced together when he speaks again, "Fuck, I'm so shit at this..." he whispers, "You matter. And I've... these last few months have been... really good. And... and for a while there, I thought I wouldn't get anything good again. Fuck, am I making sense?"

You smile at him even though he's not looking, "Yeah, perfect sense."

He takes a deep breath, "I guess what I'm trying to say is... I don't feel comfortable most of the time. And this is... this is the only place I can relax, so you being here is just..."

"Intense? Like I've climbed into your brain, and I'm running around in it?" You finish for him.

He lets out a noise close to a laugh but more self-deprecatory, "Yeah, exactly." Jason's eyes come back to yours as he says this next part, "I don't know what I'm doing with this, but bringing someone here is a thing... for me."

He looks pained as he says it, as if he's getting fed up with his inability to explain how he really feels. Your thumb rubs his in circles as you look up at him.

"Thank you for bringing me here," You say with another fond smile.

He just nods and shrugs, "Yeah, okay."

You huff a laugh, "You and your feelings, huh?"

He just huffs a laugh back as he brings you into a hug. Jason rarely initiated physical contact with you, so you hugged him tight. Arms around his neck as you brought a calming hand into his hair.

"I think you're really good for me," Jason mutters into the side of your head, "It's terrifying."

You nod, "I know, but you deserve something good, Jason."

"Christ, woman, you'll turn me soft," He grumbles, pulling back slightly to look at you.

"Nah, not possible. You're a stubborn man," You say sweetly as you stare up into his eyes.

"Even Supes has his kryptonite." He says quietly.

You just keep smiling at him, "God, maybe you are going soft."

He just chuckles and pulls you in for a soft, tender, incredibly rare, kiss.

[cinder-rxse]

⋆˚꩜｡ headcannons for. . . jason todd – who's started therapy recently

jason needs time to unwind todd who comes home speechless most nights. on one hand he wants to collapse onto the couch with you and say nothing at all, but on the other he wants to actually be a person with you – not a robot. not the knight (anymore). he doesnt trust he wont be a cold, killing machine, asshole if he doesnt take time to completely wind down from the night. so he'll come home silently, take a shower/bath, read a book, take a few minutes to breathe on his own in a quiet room before coming to you with a exhausted smile.

"hey. yeah sorry, just needed a minute."

and the first time he does it, if you're still kind of confused he'll add quietly; "wanna be jason with you, not him."

jason flagging emotions todd who in an arguement will have to take a moment to tell you what he's feeling. sure it sounds like something hed NEVER do – like i think after his therapist suggested to him he probably laughed it off thinking it was pathetic – but if you two are having your tenth arguement of the day he finally caves and tries it on the off chance it works.

in the middle of a fight and he would just – "look, im... fuck this is stupid... i'm really really angry right now. like i have an itching feeling under my skin and i just want to punch something and i don't know what to do with it so im just telling you in hopes itll make this less... not as much..." he grits out, staring you down. not with anger anymore but with shame and embarrassment.

jason hiding panic attacks todd because whilst he does go to therapy now and knows that pretty much all of his mental health issues are valid, one thing he'll always believe is that panic attacks – especially his – are pathetic and a plain sign of weakness. he simply cant wrap his head around the fact that his own mind can convince him he's dying, the same mind that goes after criminals on the streets and fights for his life every other day. so he constantly hides it whenever they come on. if he's on patrol? he finds a rooftop to sit down and curl up on for a while. if its at night in your apartment? he runs the shower whilst sitting on the floor. and if you try to intervene or comfort him he might literally run away.

jason not sharing all his issues todd because going to therapy doesnt mean he has to be FULLY transparent with them right? there are just some thing he will never ever talk about. some things that are way too dark that he'll never touch again. he might make it easy for his doctor to infer whats happened but he will never say it out right.

"he's a madman who was sickly obsessed with a 16-year-old boy. what do you think he did after he started running out of ways to torture me physically? you're smart doc, do the fuckin' math."

jason tries healthy eating habits todd and he really does try. does the whole meal prep thing, makes sure he gets his protein – hell sometimes you make him healthy meals. but at the end of the day the only food that really brings him comfort and joy at the end of a long hard mission is a greasy, minuse-five healthstar rating cheesburger.

jason has trouble keeping certain foods down todd due to the torture in arkham – where joker would force feed him rotten, maggot infested foods. apples (most fruits for that matter) and pizza specifically, are the foods that make him sick to his stomach. ptsd raging the second the food touches his tongue. he just can't do it. he tries to force feed himself pizza one night but spends his time for the next few hours hunched over the toilet, sobbing silently as you sit there just rubbing his back.

"fuck i hate this so much..." he'll whisper.

"you spoken to your therapist about it?" you ask softly.

he'll just give you a look that says – 'what do you think?'

jason coping mechanisms todd and his way of coping is obsessively cleaning his weapons to a point where his hands are raw. his way of coping is by satisfying a little voice in his head that his therapist calls ocd. if you try and stop him he either lashes out or crumbles completely depending on the day.

"let me fucking do this," he says harshly.

or...

"please just... i need to do this... this last one please..." he'll whisper painfully quiet.

jason setting boundaries todd when he first heard of the idea – not unlike his reaction to everything else his therapist suggests – he thought it was fucking ridiculous. but then he got to thinking, maybe boundary setting might actually work. so he mentions it one night when you two are about to sleep. saying something small like;

"when you... put a hand on my chest... can you put it here instead? just... feels a bit... intense when you touch that scar..."

and you just nod, listening. and he sighs, glad you didn't make it a thing. he then keeps doing it.

"ask me before you do that"

"dont touch my guns unless i say, alright?"

"sorry if this is annoying i just... could you give me half an hour when i first get home? just to unwind you know?"

jason relaying therapy todd because sometimes the shit he hears his therapist say is straight up crazy or just rage bait. he'll complain about his therapist to you – almost as if you're his second therapist. he'll talk to you about stuff his therapist has said that he doesn't understand. you'll explain it to him in a way that makes more sense and he'll finally get it. same with weird excercises his therapist gives him. you'll just ask him to try, once and he will. but he'll do it quietly, without you knowing – then tell you hours later if it worked.

jason understanding bruce todd there comes a point in therapy where everything finally clicks for jason and he realises that bruce's love isn't measured by how far he'll go to avenge jason. he becomes acutely aware that him and bruce have a fundamental difference in worldview, and their versions of love – whilst entirely different – are shown in glimpses of their every day life. for example;

bruce dedicating an entire shelf in the wayne manor library to jasons favourite childhood books.

jason stops killing people when on missions for batman/with the batfamily as a sign of respect for his moral code even if when he's on his own patrols he'd kill a man without blinking.

they are very similar, but also painfully contrasting. once jason comes to this realisation he's a lot calmer, and has a lot more time and energy for bruce. he'll come by the manor finally (through the front door rather than the window alfred has been leaving his favourite food at for the past few years) and he now has it in him to be a part of the batfamily again. he might come home to you and get emotional about it all but at the end of the day, despite all bruce and jasons tensions, he just wants his dad.

NOTE: sorry i've been away for so long i promise ill get back to the fics if you want me to. life has been insane and i can't wait to get back to all this x

[cinder-rxse]

– ꩜ RED HOOD: HOSTAGE . by @cinder-rxse

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ After months of being apart, Jason finds you whilst on an extraction mission. Thing is, you're not together anymore. You ran.

The reasoning for why you ran is known to only you and your crime lord father. For Jason's safety, you need him to believe a lie. That you don't want to be with him anymore. But, God, is it difficult.

A match made in Gotham.

꒰ CONTENT ꒱ Pre-Esxisting Relationship, Toxic Relationship, PTSD, Torture, Angst, Abuse, Mental Illness, Trust Issues | Work in Progress...

꒰ CHAPTER ONE ꒱ LITTLE MISS SCRAPPY (0.6k) – You encounter your ex-boyfriend, Jason Todd, in a rather inconvenient situation.

꒰ CHAPTER TWO ꒱ BIRDS OF A FEATHER (1.5k) – You think back to your relationship with Jason, how it came to be. Then you get a text from a familiar old boss, leading you to yet another awkward encounter with Jason.

꒰ CHAPTER THREE ꒱ MISSION: CIVIL (1.7k) – First mission out with Jason, a part of the team. You try to give him some kind words, but he doesn't respond well.

꒰ CHAPTER FOUR ꒱ TORN APART (2.6k) – You've been caught and dragged into hell. You didn't think your father would kill you, but you knew his plan would be much, much worse.

꒰ CHAPTER FIVE ꒱ Incoming...

[cinder-rxse]

Mother when are you going to feed us...:(

im so sorry i promise this wknd ill be on my shit pookie xx

[cinder-rxse]

no fanfic idea request but we’re lowkey waiting for u to drop another part of fanfic 🥹 (specifically hollow PLEASE)

i promise i’ll get to it but lowk uni got me fucked up so i swear i will lock in dw i luh u guys and i havent forgotten

i see all the requests for hostage too dw i’ll keep going w that too which means they’ll be my two priorities and THEN i’ll get to the other requests in my inbox 🤍🤍

[cinder-rxse]

– ꩜ RED HOOD: HOSTAGE . by @cinder-rxse / 〔 SERIES MASTERLIST 〕

꒰ CHAPTER FOUR ꒱ TORN APART (2.6k) – You've been caught and dragged into hell. You didn't think your father would kill you, but you knew his plan would be much, much worse

"Put her under," You heard your father say for the twentieth time. You struggled before two men shoved your head under the water again in the bathtub. Your hands flew to the sides of the tub in an attempt to help yourself back up again. When that wasn't working, you tried to hit the men's faces, arms – anything. Eventually, they let up.

You rose with a gasp, a fit of coughs followed, "Why..." you managed to rasp out, breath still frantic.

He looked at you, cigar in hand, "Because you've been a bad girl, my love." He knelt next to the tub, giving you a smile and blowing smoke into your face. "I tell you not to go near that birdy boy, and you start hanging out with the big bad bat. What made you think that was allowed?"

You licked your lips, water dripping off them. The first drops of water you'd had in so long, "...You..." breathing still wasn't coming easily, "...You don't control my life anymore..." You tried to deliver it with some form of harshness, but the water in your mouth made it sound rounder and a lot less commanding.

He huffed, "That's where you're wrong, my little dove." His hand came up to rest on your chin. "You know, just as well as most. I pull the strings in Gotham." He flung your chin back with his fingers, "Who is he? The Bat? Tell me now," his tone got serious very quickly. When you responded with silence, he gestured for the men to put you under again. And they did. You struggled as they held you down for longer, your vision going blurry before they lifted you up by your hair. You were heaving when you came up.

"...Please," You started, breathing in deeply in case they put you back under, "I don't... I never met him..."

He made an annoyed grunt and dug his cigar into your skin. You cried out through gritted teeth. He pressed it in with more force, "I never taught you to lie. Don't try it with me."

He finally let up on your arm and gave an upward hand gesture. The men lifted you out of the tub. Your clothes were completely drenched, your skin pruned.

"Boss?" You heard a voice behind you, not bothering to look.

He sighed, "Can you not see I'm in the middle of something important?" Your body went limp in the arms of the men holding you up. Hope was for the delusional.

"The chair's ready." The man spoke in a smaller voice than when he first came in. The chair? What the fuck was that?

Your father smiled, looking at you. "Oh, honey, this is going to hurt."

You screamed as the vaults coursed through your body. It'd been a few weeks since they'd started this form of torture. They'd drench you in water, then shock you, which made the electrocution so much more powerful. You thought maybe you'd eventually grow a tolerance for the pain, but you didn't. They weren't even asking questions any more, they just did it for sport. Sick people.

You were spasming as they took the restraints off of you, your head falling forward, almost lifelessly, as your limbs were completely ragdolled. They dragged you back to your cell, throwing you in with so much force that you hit your head against the floor with a strength that made you pass out.

Your eyes opened to bright, clinical lights. Someone standing over you adjusted the light above, angling it lower and allowing you to see who was standing above you. A man, with a surgical mask on, and one of those scrub caps on his head. You'd never felt dread quite like you had right now.

You looked down to see you were on – a fucking surgical table. Oh, God.

Looking around, there were other people in the room too. Some wore scrubs, some were in suits and ties.

"What the–" You slurred, drowsy from waking up. "What the fuck are you doin' to me?" You wriggled around only to find you were restrained at the wrists, ankles and hips. You also noticed Jason's accent on your voice; you hadn't done that in a while.

The man's eyes landed on yours, tears in them as you noticed his hands shaking. Great. You were about to be mutilated by a surgeon with shaky hands.

His eyes were glassy, "I'm so... so sorry." The surgeon's voice was shaking, and as you went to gaze down at where his arm was moving, "It'll be worse for both of us if you look," he said in a very quiet voice.

That's when you realised, he'd been coerced. He didn't want to do this. You let out a sob, "Please... please don't."

The sound of your father's voice addressing the men in the suits rang in the background as the surgeon spoke again, "He has my wife and daughter." A tear falls from the man's eyes.

You let out a strangled noise. He had to do this.

"Please..." You pleaded, "At least tell me... What are you going to do to me?"

You saw his jaw move to talk, but then – a muffled noise in the distance. A command to begin preparing you for the surgery.

He nodded once, and you felt a cold sensation on your stomach. A wet cloth of some sort. You could tell the surgeon was overwhelmed. His entire body was shaking at this point, breathing shallow. Survival instincts kick in, and you'd quickly decided that if this was going to happen, which it definitely was, you'd rather a steady-handed surgeon than a panicked one.

"What are their names?" You asked quietly in an attempt to calm him down, and he shook his head. Tears kept pooling in your eyes as you tried as hard as you could to keep your own composure. "Tell me their names."

"Louise and..." he hesitated, "Charlotte,"

"Is Charlotte you're daughter?" You asked, and he nodded. "How old is she?" You choked out. Fuck.

"Five." He let out as he stifled a sob of his own.

"What's your name?" You muttered.

He hesitated before speaking, "Thomas."

"Thomas," You started, tears falling freely now as you felt him drying off your lower stomach, "Thomas. When you start, I need you to talk about Charlotte. Anything, everything. Just keep going and don't stop until it's over, okay?" He looked at you, pausing his action, and nodded. "It's okay, Thomas, this isn't your fault. Just think about them." You're full crying now, he picks up something thin and metallic. You see it gleam under the lights.

A restraint is put over your head, which makes the panic rise even further. This was happening. This was really happening. And it wasn't some nightmare; it was your father.

"She began ballet last year..."

That was the last thing you heard before everything began ringing in your ears. You felt the metal against your skin, a blistering pain flying throughout you. It was unreal how easily your skin was being separated. Your hearing was fading in and out now.

"She loves to draw birds and..."

Bile rose in your throat when you felt the clamps on your thick flesh. The hot, warm liquid that you'd figured was your blood was falling out of you at an alarming rate. Then Thomas reached in. This is when you had no idea what he was doing because the pain was so intense it felt like they'd lit your entire body alight.

"... so she kicked him in the balls. Fiesty little girl..."

You felt emptier as he brought something large to the side of the bed onto a metal tray table.

"But that's our Charlotte – our no-nonsense, beautiful girl.."

Then you felt something cold inside you, something solid. What the fuck was that? You cried out again, "PLEASE! PLEASE ― OH GOD–"

"And my wife..."

You felt the clamps come off your skin, then the sewing began. Then someone undoes the restraints on your head. You were stupid to think it was an act of mercy, as a gag of some sort was shoved into your mouth, which was followed by the leather straps being locked around your head once more.

"... then she turned around and proposed to me, telling me any other way had patriarchal undertones..."

Your jaw bit down ferociously on the piece of dirty fabric as he continued to sew. You'd think, in comparison to everything else, this part would be a walk in the park. But the needle was so deep in your skin, it was one of the worst parts.

"I swear, I'd never been so completely in awe of a woman in my life..."

As you felt the pull of the surgical string tying it off, your body went into shock. Vision going white, before going dark again.

You were sure you looked like a zombie, roaming the Gotham streets in a dirtied, bloodied hospital gown. You weren't sure where to go. The hospital would fuck around and find out, and the chances of you exploding were far too high to put an entire building of sick people at risk. But you weren't even sure about that. Your father had given a very ominous warning.

"You've got a device inside you. If you go near anyone in Batman's inner circle, it'll activate. Don't test it."

You'd thrown up multiple times on the sidewalk. It was a quiet night, so there were no judgey eyes. But there was a figure in front of you that made your blood run cold.

Red Hood.

He looked stunned in the way he stood. Frozen. He took a few robotic steps towards you.

"No– don't come any closer– JASON STOP..." You spluttered, stepping backwards as he came to a halt.

"What the fuck–" You heard him say quietly, "What the fuck happened to you?"

You winced, the stitches still fresh, "There's this fucking– I don't even know what it is – device?" The words spilled out, "This device is on me that might do something really bad if you get too close."

He shook his head, "Then take it the fuck off,"

The air left you, "I can't, Jason."

"What do you mean you can't?" He yelled now, getting fed up and confused.

Your vision blurred, and you couldn't tell whether it was because of the blood loss or because of the tears. You lifted up your hospital gown with a wince, showing the rough, aggravated stitching.

He took off his helmet. You'd never seen him do that in the streets before. Too risky. The look on his face was confronting. Any trace of resentment or anger had completely diminished, replaced by a quiet horror you'd never seen on him.

"What..." He murmured to himself.

You sobbed, "It's... It's my father..." You really tried to hold it together, but it wasn't working very well. "All he's told me is that this'll – this thing will activate if I'm around anyone in Batman's inner circle."

He shook his head in shock, "Your... father? He did this to you?"

"Jason, focus." Your voice wobbled, "How would–" bile rose in your throat again, "How would this device know you were nearby?" He was still at a loss, mouth open in awe. You'd gotten an idea, "Is your helmet, Wayne Tech?"

He snapped out of his daze momentarily, "Y-Yeah. This one is."

"Throw it behind you," You breathed, "Your guns too."

He stilled a moment before complying, throwing everything down an alleyway.

"What now?"

"Anything else on you, Wayne Tech?" You asked sheepishly, to which he shook his head. "God, no, I can't..."

Something clicks for him behind his eyes, "You think it'll recognise the signature..." he says under his breath, "That's really smart."

"What if I'm wrong?" You let out a whimper at the ache of the stitches, "I don't know what'll happen if I get close."

Jason took a step towards you, "Let's find out."

You backed away, "No, Jason." But he kept walking towards you, "What if I fucking blow up? What if you do?"

"How the fuck would that thing blow me up? What? Does it know my DNA from a few feet away?" He tried to reassure you, "How big is it? The device?"

You gave a broken scoff, "I didn't exactly fucking look at it as they ripped my stomach open and shoved it in there–"

"This is important," His voice was low now.

You closed your eyes, trying to feel the metal in your lower abdomen. It didn't feel all that big at all. "Two match boxes, maybe?"

"It's not a bomb," He sighed, relieved but still with an unknowing edge to his voice. "Stay still."

He stepped towards you again, and you kept taking steps backwards, "What if he– I don't know, he could've–"

"Trust me." The look in his eyes was similar to one he'd given you a lifetime ago. So you took a deep breath and stood still. He took a few cautious steps before picking up his pace. Now stood directly in front of you. "Everything okay?"

You nod. As soon as you do that, he wraps his arms around you. And you hate the way you melt into his broad body. It feels right. Standing there with him. You grab at the red bat-like symbol on his chest, bunching the material in your hands. Then you start bawling, choked sounds forcing their way out as you realise you're finally safe. He held you tighter; his heart ached at hearing you like this.

And when the two of you finally broke apart, you looked up at him. He looked lost in his thoughts, completely drunk on confusion and adrenaline combined.

"I'll take you to my safe house," he says softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

"But your weapons are everywhere–"

"I'll move them." He interrupted, shaking his head. He then bent down and lifted you off your feet in a fireman's carry. Your arms wrapped around his neck loosely as your head fell onto his shoulder.

He'd laid you down on his bed. You insisted the couch was fine, but he wasn't having it.

"I need a shower," You mumbled, exhausted and traumatised.

"You need rest," He pulled the sheets up over you.

"No, I'm filthy. I'll dirty your sheets," You argued as you tried to get up, but he just forced you back down again.

"The sheets have seen worse," He said before thinking. Jason glanced at you, pressing his lips into a thin, awkward line. You let out a dry huff.

"Thank you for this," You whispered, snuggling into the pillows.

He gave you a nod, awkward again. It was like he didn't know what to do with himself now that you were in his apartment, but you weren't his girlfriend.

His eyes fell onto the side of the bed he always insisted on sleeping on. The door side.

"You can stay if you'd like,"

His eyes widened, caught off guard.

"No. I really shouldn't," he sighed, "If you need anything, call out. I'll be on the couch."

He started walking away as you spoke, "I honestly..." You ran your finger over the material of the sheets as a comfort, "I don't know if I can be alone after it all."

Jason gave a tentative sigh, "We can't do that."

You turned over in the bed without another word. You felt him linger in the room fleetingly. Maybe he'd stay? That's when you heard his footsteps lead out of the room.

You'd asked too much. Fuck.

"An hour," He'd said as he entered the room again, pillow in hand. He'd always slept with two pillows under him, more comfortable for his neck after all the injuries.

You didn't turn around, keeping you back to him. But hearing his soft breathing was an anxiety-relieving sound. Always had been, always would be.

📩 requests are open !

NOTES: this might be shit bc theres not a lot of jason actually in it but yk. story type shii. anyways hope u enjoy, dw im getting back to hollow tmr. typing this at 4:46 am guys so im on the tumblr grind just for u. LUH U BYE

[cinder-rxse]

– ꩜ RED HOOD: HOSTAGE . by @cinder-rxse / 〔 SERIES MASTERLIST 〕

꒰ CHAPTER THREE ꒱ MISSION: CIVIL (1.7k) – First mission out with Jason, a part of the team. You try to give him some kind words, but he doesn't respond well.

Everyone stood suited up around the round table that had appeared in the middle of the Batcave, listening to Bruce's mission debrief. You really didn't know why Bruce kept you around. You were a good soldier, sure, but everyone here was. It felt good, though. Being good.

Jason had finally agreed to a mission with you on the team. There'd already been a few, and he probably realised he'd miss out on a lot of them if he waited for you to disappear.

Bruce was talking when suddenly two figures were walking towards the group. Kory and... Donna Troy.

Great.

You and Donna never really got along. You'd always disagree or argue about how to go about dealing with the criminals and villains you fought. She was a control freak. Her way or fuck off, basically.

"No way," Dick grinned. Happy that his two favourite girls are coming on a mission.

"Boy Wonder," Donna smiled at Dick, leaning in and wrapping her arms around him. Tim's head also cocked to the side at the name, probably used to it.

"Everyone, Donna and Kory will be joining us for this mission." Bruce spoke as he gestured towards them.

Donna greeted everybody and then walked up to Jason, pulling him into a hug, "How're you feeling, big guy?" she said as she pulled away.

"I'm fine, Donna," Jason said flatly as you eyed her up and down.

She then turned to you, "Nice to see you," she practically forced out, "Thought you might've been gone for longer."

"Hi Donna," You said simply.

Throughout the entire briefing, Donna moved closer and closer to Jason. Not touching, just very close. You'd been staring the whole time. Jason even caught your eye, furrowing his brows, confused as to what you were looking at. Only then did you look away.

When everyone disbanded, you shook yourself out of your daze. You had no idea what you were supposed to do. You looked around, but literally everyone had split into small groups.

"You comin'?" You heard his voice ask, the question stirring something deep in you. Memories of his hand beneath your–

"Hello?" Jason uttered again. You looked at him.

Your eyebrows twitched, "What?"

"You, me and Donna. We're on night watch," he gestured to Donna, who gave you a stupid little wave, "Jesus, were you even–" he stopped himself to sigh, "We're going over our plan. Bruce said we have twenty minutes before we head over to Blüdhaven."

You turned your head to look over your shoulder at Bruce, who – as the best detective in the world – would've very well known how you'd felt about Donna and how Jason felt about you. You could've sworn you saw the corners of Bruce's mouth lift into a small smirk, but it was gone before you could take a picture.

Now, the three of you were standing around the round table, looking at the map. Donna had been raving about the setup of the base, and you'd completely zoned out. A quick glance at Jason told you he wasn't really listening either.

Then she changed the topic to where each of them would be positioned. Who died and made her the leader?

"I'll take the east. It's a high-risk area, and I don't want anyone exposed unless it's me." Donna said, eyeing both you and Jason.

You let out a dry laugh, "Yeah, no. That's not how this is gonna work,"

Bruce was on his way over to check in on the group's work when she spoke, "I'm sorry?"

"You don't get to pick the hardest angle just because you want to play hero. I'm better suited towards exposed positions considering my training," As you stopped talking, she turned her whole body to you, leaning a hand over the map.

"This isn't about proving yourself. This is about minimising risk, and I know what I'm talking about."

"So do I," You say in response, "Stop acting like you're the only one capable of making decisions,"

She exhaled, "Whatever personal issue you have with me needs to be squashed for the sake of the group. You think you're better equipped than me?" She rolls her eyes, actually, rolls her eyes. "I was trained by the Amazons of Themyscira. Diana herself made sure I was prepared for situations like these on crack. I don't just act – I plan. That's how you survive."

Silence. God, she was insufferable.

Should I be the bigger person here? You thought.

Yeah, absolutely the fuck not.

"...You done jerking yourself off, or should I give you a minute?"

There's a surprised scoff from Tim and a disapproving noise from Damian.

"Jason takes the east flank." Bruce breaks the tension with one sentence. You smile at the fact that she didn't get what she wanted. She glares at you, tongue in cheek.

"Who knew women twice my age would quarrel like such children?" Damian said to Tim, who was shaking his head with a grin, enjoying the drama. Dick was too busy staring at Kory to notice anything.

You looked back at Jason, "Don't be fuckin' difficult." He shook his head as he spoke. You scoffed. You? Be difficult? Jason then walked over to Dick and Kory.

Long night.

You'd finally gotten back from the mission, and fuck was it excruciating. She was excruciating. Everyone disbanded to get changed and dressed. That's when you saw her.

Barbara Gordon was sitting at the Batcomputer. Ridiculous name for an overly expensive desktop setup. You'd never really known Barbara that well. To be honest, you weren't necessarily close to anyone in the team other than Jason and, oddly enough, Selena Kyle.

"You did great out there," Barbara spoke, clearly feeling your presence behind her.

"Well, the voice in my ear made sure I didn't eat shit too badly," You smiled. She wasn't looking at you, but she chuckled to herself. Typing away, "Seriously, I don't know how you do it."

"Sometimes neither do I," She sighs, spinning around the wheels of her chair. "It's nice having you on the team. Breaks up the testosterone contest going on," she smirked.

"You could put the entirety of Themyscira on the team, and it wouldn't drown out the big dick contest those boys constantly compete in." You rolled your eyes at the thought.

She began to leave, pulling at her wheels when she stopped.

"You coming out tonight?" she asked.

You blinked, "Coming out where?"

"Dick invited everyone to the bar; he always does." Barbara exhaled a laugh that didn't reach her eyes.

A short huff left you, "Right." He hadn't mentioned it to you.

She noticed, smart girl. There was a look of understanding in her eyes, "He's just looking out for Jason."

"I figured." You shake your head at how involved he's been getting. You didn't want to fuck with Jason, but you'd like to have some friends. "You have fun, Barbara." You smiled as you began walking away.

As you were heading towards the exit to the Batcave, you spotted him. Jason is leaning against the stone wall.

"You've really improved," the words fell out of you before you could think.

"Don't," his jaw twitched. Your head lolled forward the slightest bit. Was it really cruel to even just be nice to him? Your feet carried you a few steps, and he spoke again, "You shouldn't do this again."

Your movement stopped abruptly. "You're in no position to tell me what to do."

"Yeah, actually, I am." his voice laced his venom, "These are my friends. My family,"

"They're my friends too–"

"No, they're not." Jason got off the wall, "Is your head so far up your own ass that you don't see what you're doing?" Your jaw went slack. "You don't get to have these people. You don't."

"Jason–"

"You hate me, fine. But don't show up and try to infiltrate my life when you are the one who walked away." He took a few steps closer. "I mean, what are you doing?" He continued, "What? You see me for the first time since you fucked me over, and all of a sudden, your bipolar fuckin' feelings come flooding back? Too bad."

"Bruce asked me to," You said simply. You hadn't realised you'd been walking backwards as he cornered you until your back hit the wall and he stopped, towering over you in that way he always had.

You were looking up at him, and something changed in his eyes. Did he not know that? But his hardened expression remained, "Why fuckin' agree? You knew I was going to be here."

"It's not about you. I just wanted to help out–"

"Help out?" He laughed darkly, "You aren't capable of anything other than fucking everything up." His words were cruel, but the tone in his voice said something different. He goes serious, "So, when I say you shouldn't do this again, I fuckin' mean it."

Anger rose in you at his words. Real anger, fake words. "Last time I checked, you weren't my father or my boyfriend." You let the word sit between you. Sure, it was petty, but so what? He thinks you're a selfish bitch? Time to act like one. "So you can take your opinion and fuck off with it."

He stared at you. You'd never seen him look quite like that. Something cold ran through you. This whole thing broke your heart.

You didn't want this.

"Me? Fuck off with it? That's rich," He repeated with a small, wicked smile. "Considering you quite literally fucked off when things got too real for you." He gets closer, "You think you saved me? No. You were just there." You let out an exhale, his face right in front of yours. "Any warm body would've done."

He took a few steps away, "Jason..." you spoke, defeated.

"Don't worry, I won't waste more of my opinions on you." He stopped and looked at you, "God knows I wasted enough time thinking you were anything more than a hollow shell of a woman."

You two stared at each other a moment longer. Resentment in his eyes, hatred in yours – towards yourself.

"Don't come back here." He says flatly before finally retreating back into the cave.

Back in your apartment now. It was quiet, dark. The adrenaline of the mission, of the argument, it all still ran through you as you stood still in the room. You set down your keys and your bag with your suit in it. Rubbing your eyes. What the fuck. This was all so messed up.

"You've been ignoring me,"

Your blood ran cold. The grating, all too familiar voice coming from behind you. You refused to turn around.

"Be gentle,"

You heard the voice speak again before everything went black.

📩 requests are open !

NOTES: I'm turning this into a full-length fic bc of the love you guys are giving it. BUT I have to write chapters for the pre-existing ones too (Hollow, Exodus, Mania), so bear with me. I'll probably do some fucking around with the editing of these parts, so I'll let you know when I do in case you'd like to re-read the altered versions. (sorry for making donna lowk annoying but for the point of the story i wanted to. also lowk the reader is just kinda salty for no reason lol) luh u bye

[cinder-rxse]

– ꩜ RED HOOD: HOSTAGE . by @cinder-rxse / 〔 SERIES MASTERLIST 〕

꒰ CHAPTER TWO ꒱ BIRDS OF A FEATHER (1.5k) – You think back to your relationship with Jason, how it came to be. Then you get a text from a familiar old boss, leading you to yet another awkward encounter with Jason

The white envelope sat mesmerisingly on the kitchen counter of your stingy little apartment.

My Daughter. It said on the back.

You refused to open it. He was a vile man. A man well known for being one of the largest crime bosses in all of Gotham. A man you made sure nobody knew you were related to.

You used to be the type a daddy's girl when you were younger; he was your world. God, you wished you could turn a blind eye to everything he's done like so many others do. I mean, it's no secret you don't exactly abide by the law yourself, but you believed sometimes the law wasn't strong enough.

Exhibit A: Your father.

That was part of the reason you and Jason had gotten along so well. You'd never questioned how far he was willing to go for justice, because you knew his heart was in the right place even if his fists weren't.

You'd met him when Batman had asked you to go undercover as a part of the militia. He'd told you to keep a close watch on their leader. You denied him at first, but once he slid the cheque over the table, you were very quickly made agreeable.

You did exactly as asked. You watched. At training, in meetings you'd manage to weasel your way into, even at the odd get-together the soldiers would have at the most underground clubs in the city.

But Jason wasn't an idiot. Having been raised by the Batman, it wasn't easy to pull wool over his eyes. So you weren't surprised when he noticed how your face was somehow always in his peripheral vision. Always watching. Always observing.

You were skilled in combat, one of the best soldiers they'd had. This very quickly made you a valuable asset to the Arkham Knight and his big plans for the new, Batman-free Gotham.

It became apparent to Jason that you two were more alike than he'd originally thought. The way you viewed things, how you dealt with the scum that stained the crime-plagued streets. It was most likely subliminal, but he began to stay around you for longer periods of time. Whether it was going over numbers of the soldiers in the army, or managing attack strategies. Or the odd occasion where he'd ask a personal question.

You'd known your alliance was with Batman – or Bruce Wayne, as you would come to find out. But you felt drawn to Jason in a way you hadn't with anyone else.

Forty-eight hours before the big attack, he'd woken up in a cold sweat – gasping for air as if he'd been underwater for hours. You startled awake, realising you'd fallen asleep on the floor whilst running over the different flanks of soldiers.

And that night, God, that night.

That was the first time you'd noticed how truly broken he was. He was always so logical, so analytic. It made you forget he was a human being, too. Not just the Knight.

What followed was a thing of fantasy. A dreamlike sequence of open-mouthed kisses, disregard for clothes, and the release of an impossibly tightly wound tension that inhabited his whole body, always.

He'd been rough, as if taking out all his frustrations on you. But there was this soft side in between the excruciatingly paced thrusts that would whisper in your ear.

"That's it," "You're okay," "So fuckin' good,"

You'd woken up to an empty bed, but you understood. This was his big moment, his chance to get revenge. You reported everything you knew back to Batman.

"Thank you for this. Our business is done. I'll have the other half of your sum wired into your account tonight."

You were free to do what you wanted now. But honestly, you wanted Jason.

Time passed, and you hadn't seen Jason since that one night eighteen months ago.

But you'd run into each other again unknowingly at an underground artwork auction. You'd been there to steal the art for yourself for another employer who was paying you handsomely.

Or at least, that was your plan, until you ran into the Red Hood. The new vigilante on the block, who quickly gained a reputation for killing people.

It didn't take either of you long to find yourself back in his apartment, mouths colliding, bodies as close as physically possible in positions you'd not thought were theoretically possible.

This time, it was different; he was more Jason.

He never told you a whole lot about his past, but you got snippets. Little windows into the horrors he'd faced in Arkham gave you a better understanding of how his mind worked and what made him tick.

He'd even introduced you to the people in his dysfunctional yet functioning family. You'd helped them during missions more times than you could count. Going straight was difficult, but you did it with Jason.

He'd finally mustered up the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend after over half a year of seeing each other, when you'd received it.

A letter like the one that sat on your kitchen counter today.

My Daughter.

So this time, you weren't looking at it. You left it there, on the counter. Considering the amount of pain the last one caused. A pain Jason would never know about because you weren't allowed to tell him.

BUZZ BUZZ

You took out your phone, and the screen lit up your face in the darkness of your apartment.

BRUCE WAYNE: Get to the manor. Immediately.

You sighed. Eyeing the letter, feeling it invade your privacy.

YOU: On my way now.

In the Batcave now, Bruce is running over some plans for the mission. He needed another undercover job, and Selena wasn't available.

"So I'm your backup Catwoman?" You joked.

"You do have some of her... specific skills," He muttered as he kept typing on the computer.

Dick joined you both at the computer, being in on the fact that you were here to help. You wondered if Jason knew? Didn't matter.

Bruce got up from his chair as he had to take a call from Gordon, which left you and Dick standing there. You took his spot on the seat.

"You should talk to him," Dick says quietly, staring forward at the screens.

You sigh, "No, I really shouldn't."

"Maybe if he knew you didn't actually mean to–"

"I did mean it, Dick." You spoke firmly as you turned to face him, "I had to leave. I was suffocating. Being with him was exhausting, and I had to get out before either I got hurt or he did."

It was a practised line you'd made sure was in your back pocket. It felt wrong to say the words, but it's what you had to do.

"Tell me how you really feel," You heard from behind you. And there he stood, Jason. Arms crossed as he stood as straight as he could, his permanent hunch still plainly obvious. This was the softer, domestic version. Though his expression resembled that of the old him – Arkham Knight.

You huffed. Looking at him before turning your attention back to the computer displays.

Dick looked between you two, "I'll go see where Tim and Damian are at, they might want in on this," he gestured toward the displays. Standing there for a second and then leaving.

Just you two.

Jason joined you at the computer, standing to your side as you typed furiously at the keyboard.

The silence was unbearable. You could hear the buzz of the tension in the air.

You'd had enough. "You need to tell Dick to stay out of our business."

"Been trying for years," he huffed as if he was going to laugh, but you could tell he was mad by his tone.

"Suffocating was a strong word," You mumbled.

He sighed, "Yeah, it was."

You stood up, facing him. He wasn't looking at you at all. Eyes flickering in between screens.

You went to open your mouth to say something when he cut you off.

"Tell Bruce I'm skipping this one," his voice is clipped, and he then looks down at you, finally meeting your eyes. "Would hate to suffocate anyone,"

You scoffed, "Okay, I understand that was a shitty thing to say. But you called me a selfish bitch the other day."

"You're a selfish bitch now. I didn't say that's how I felt when we–" he stopped himself. "I really just can't stand looking at your face. It actually makes me want to suffocate someone. Namely, you," his face was about an inch away from yours as he spat out the words. Anyone looking from afar would think you were about to kiss each other. His eyes flicked between yours before he walked away.

You threw your head back in resignation.

"It shocks me, Todd's taste in women includes such loud-mouthed ones," you hear from below, "We all know he's not above killing, so I'm shocked to see you're still standing with a heartbeat. Though he has gone noticeably soft, which is most likely your doing,"

"Damian," you greet him, looking down at the boy staring back at you.

📩 requests are open ! (gang do i turn this into an actual fic??)

[cinder-rxse]

– ꩜ RED HOOD: HOSTAGE . by @cinder-rxse / 〔 SERIES MASTERLIST 〕

꒰ CHAPTER ONE ꒱ LITTLE MISS SCRAPPY (0.6k) – You encounter your ex-boyfriend, Jason Todd, in a rather inconvenient situation.

You'd been down here for a few hours. Which was nothing you couldn't handle, but it was never the most comfortable being half-naked with your arms tied behind your back. They didn't even take off your suit in a weird sexual way; they just didn't want you to have any advantage or use any of the gadgets in your utility belt, which was sewn into the suit. So they took it off.

You weren't worried. You weren't worried. Not worried at all. But as the hours rolled past, your anxiety rose. You thought about these men and how horrific their victims' bodies looked when they turned up on the outskirts of Gotham. All women, too. These guys used medieval torture methods and were big fans of flaying. Which was inconvenient because you'd much prefer your skin to stay on your body.

You struggled against the ropes when you heard footsteps. Fuck.

But then, they started talking.

Dick and Jason.

So you called out, yelled out their names as you tried to sit up against the wall. Which you managed despite scraping your back against the rough stone floor.

You saw Nightwing first, and boy, was he a sight for sore eyes.

"Uh, Jason?" he says, staring at you.

Then, Red Hood peered around the corner. Wearing his half mask this time, he only used to do that when he wanted people to see him kill them. His eye squinted at you.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Jason said in actual shock.

You huffed, "Nice to see you too, Jay."

"Don't fuckin' call me that," he says as he begins walking away, towards the hall where you knew more men resided.

"Hey, we can't just leave her here," Dick says with an arm on his shoulder, stopping him from walking. Jason's eyes fell to the hand on his shoulder, then to Dick's face.

"She's a scrappy little thing. She'll find her way out," Jason rolled his shoulder aggressively to shrug Dick's hand off.

"There is no scrappy when I have nothing to be scrappy with." You spat as you gestured with your head towards your outfit – or lack thereof.

Dick gave Jason a long look, knowing this wasn't really his place to let you go. You and Jason had dated for a while until one day you decided to run. He didn't know it, but his life had been threatened by someone close to you, and you had no choice but to leave without a word. So seeing him now was... not ideal.

He wandered over to the cell door and clasped his hand around the lock, squeezing hard and snapping it. The iron door flew open as he stepped inside the small space. You shifted uncomfortably in your restraints.

"I dunno," he said, crouching down not too far away from you, "Half naked and tied up. That was kinda our thing, wasn't it?"

Dick groaned, "Jason, just untie her."

"No, no. If we were alone in my apartment, she'd be loving this. But because she's in danger, it's a different story,"

Dick chimes in, "That's kinda how this–"

"Can't run away from it this time," he leaned forward, "You selfish bitch," Jason's voice was only venom at this point.

You glared at him, "You're being a pain in my ass."

"I remember you liking it last time."

Your jaw dropped. Why was he saying this in front of Dick?

"Okay, enough. I don't need to hear about your sex life." Dick had a disgusted expression, "If you won't untie her, I will–"

And with a quick reach behind your back, he snapped the ropes holding your wrists together.

"Don't do this again," he warned.

You didn't thank him. Just lie there, ropes still around your ankles. Jason headed into the next room. Dick offered you a half assed wave.

God, if only he knew.

📩 requests are open !

[cinder-rxse]

Just wanted to say that I love ur hollow series!! Ur an awesome writer (๑¯◡¯๑)

no YOURE so awsome mwah !!

[cinder-rxse]

Could you write a Jason Todd x chemist! Reader where she mainly helps the batfam with cures for toxins and stuff, and like jay and her are dating but the whole fam doesn't know <3 I love your writing sm and esp love your hollow series!! And if you do emoji anons could I be known as ☣️ anon?

ˎˊ˗ cure – jason todd

nsfw. 1.7k . NOTES: ty sm for the request ☣️ anon i honestly love this so much i might write a part two. i feel bad bc idk if you wanted it to be this smutty but i kinda got an idea mid way through and HAD to act on it. also, so glad ur enjoying hollow i promise pt 6 is in the oven rn. (p.s. hoping that by becoming an emoji anon youll be requesting more 🙂‍↕️). oki, luh u bye x

You'd been working really hard on a cure for a new toxin that Scarecrow had created. He'd threatened to use it on all of Gotham if Batman didn't submit to him and his twisted wishes. You were often kept out of the loop of the hero stuff, just there for the scientific side of things. Bruce did it on purpose so you'd never stress out too much over the consequences of failure. He just wanted your brain in the purest, calmest form. Which obviously didn't work, because then all you thought about was all the different things the villains had planned. You speculated about the number of people who would suffer due to your own incompetence. How many men, women or children would die just because you couldn't figure out how to break down the biohazard as fast as the perpetrator could build and spread one?

"Does it not get annoying?" You heard the familiar voice from the door to the lab, "Being a know-it-all, that is."

"Jason, I really... need... to focus..." The words slowly slid out of your mouth as you slowly poured the toxin into another protein solution in hopes it would turn pink and be a match. But you groaned as it turned, "Fucking yellow. I'm sick of the colour yellow. I've had enough of that dumb fucking colour,"

You began mixing together another solution as you saw him striding over to you in your peripheral vision.

"You're overworking yourself. I think you should take a break. So does Dick, and Barbara. And, Bruce," he stopped when he was standing next to you, watching your hands move with a precision he was always fascinated by.

You put the flask down with an aggressive force, finally meeting his eyes.

"Yeah? Well, last I checked, your life gets too difficult when the remote is more than an arm's length away, Dick spends more time looking at himself in the mirror than he does trying to track down this insane son-of-a-bitch, and Barbara sits at a computer all day talking to people and breaks a sweat," You stare at him for a silent few seconds, and his eyebrow raises before you turn back to the flask, grabbing a wooden spooly to mix. "Tim and Bruce are the only two who seem to have a grasp on the severity of this threat."

"Hey," His voice hardens as he reaches out and grabs your forearm, stopping you from mixing. You look at him, he's gone serious, "I know you're stressed, but don't underestimate how freaked the fuck out everyone is."

You sigh, putting down the glassware as you bring your hands to your face. You were fucking exhausted, but you didn't want to let people down. Because failure didn't result in a D+ and a 'Better luck next time!' stamp, it meant people dying.

"C'mere," He brought you in for a hug, your hands were still on your face, but you leaned into his touch. He was always so warm, it made you drowsy. But you knew you wouldn't be able to sleep, even if he was lying next to you.

"You know I can't stop." Your voice was muffled against his chest. He pulled back. As he did, you snaked your arms around his neck.

"Take a fucking break," he said softly, sliding your lab coat off you and dropping it on the floor.

You went to bend down and pick it up, "Jason, I can't– Hey!" he'd picked you up and shoved you over his shoulder, "I'm serious, put me down,"

"Okay," he said as he walked out of the lab and into the ever grand Batcave, putting you down on the nearest thing. The Batmobile.

"Bruce will kill us," You smiled, despite thinking about making a run for the lab again.

"I don't know," he said with a smirk, "Last time I fucked with this thing he adopted me, so."

You chuckled and shook your head as he leaned in to kiss you, standing between your legs. Your hands were in his hair as his gripped your waist. And all of a sudden, you really weren't thinking about a whole lot. It's like kissing him made any worries fade into the vast distance.

You pulled back, breathless, "Someone could come down here,"

He shrugged and leaned back in, deepening the kiss further. The heat flooded your face as he brought his hips closer to yours, and you felt his bulge against your stomach. He kissed down your neck, big open-mouthed ones as he brought his hands up to your white button-up blouse, undoing the first few buttons. You let out a quiet, breathless moan into his ear.

He then kissed down your collarbone, continuing over the lace of your bra as he unbuttoned the last few buttons of your dress shirt.

"Jason, what're you..." you sighed as he kissed down your bare stomach, using his hands to slide your skirt up to your waist.

"Helping you out," he said with a kiss to your thigh, "Actually," Kiss "When you think about it," Kiss, "I'm helping all of Gotham,"

You exhaled shakily as he finally made his way to your core, planting kisses over the lace fabric of your panties before sliding them to the side.

"Lean back, baby," You felt the air against your wet folds as he spoke. You nodded lustfully as you leaned back on the hood of the Batmobile. THE Batmobile.

He grabbed your hips, shifting you so your ass was hanging off the edge a little more. And then he gave a long, languid lick with his pointed tongue, up your folds. He did this a few times.

"Oh," You said, so plainly it was as if you'd had a mini revelation.

Then came the big, open-mouthed kisses you loved so much about doing this with him. You whimpered at the feeling, your lower abdomen tingling with need and desire. His flat tongue against your entrance was enough to have your back lurching off the steel hood of the car. His tongue then went to your clit, circling it as he slid two of his fingers knuckle deep in your cunt. Holy fuck.

The wet sounds of his fingers knuckle deep were horrifically mortifying, especially considering the echo the cave gives off. But every time he brushed that spot inside you with his fingertips, you lost that anxious feeling. You ground down on his fingers as your moans got louder, bringing a hand to his hair, tugging.

His mouth left you momentarily. Confused at the loss of contact, you lifted your head to see what he was doing. That's when you felt his hand clasping around your non-hair-holding hand, dragging it down to your clit. And with that nonverbal command, you began touching yourself the way only you'd know how. His tongue moves in and out of you before slurping ridiculously – comically – loud.

"Jason!" You whispered loudly. And when you looked down, he was smirking against you. You could tell with the way his eyes creased.

His tongue moved faster, even sloppier than before. Your own fingers picked up the pace, too. That all too familiar knot building in your stomach at an alarming rate. You begin grinding against his face, applying more pressure to your clit.

"Baby, I need to–" Baby? You never called him pet names. He groaned into you, and that was it. You were gone for.

The hand on your clit, moved to your mouth – biting down to stop your moans. Your legs shook as you pulled on his hair hard. He made another noise against your folds at that, your legs clamping around his head in that way he'd told you he loved. You were twitching against him. He left a few slow, long licks up your cunt before planting one last kiss on your clit. He then stood up, looking at you with your legs spread wide open, liquid desire dripping from your sensitive pussy, and your flushed, fucked out face.

You lay still as he adjusted your panties to cover you again, then pulled your skirt down over your ass again. You sat up slowly, looking at him. His chin and lips glistened.

"I cannot believe we just..." You trailed off.

He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, smiling at you.

"Jason? You down here still? We're starting to think she's begun experimenting on you."

The voice was faraway but unmistakable. Dick.

You both froze. Shit.

You quickly buttoned up your blouse all the way as he fixed his hair, all messed up from your grabbing and pulling. He helped you off the Batmobile as Dick came into view.

"I knew you would do it," He smiled in surprise. You nearly choke on thin air.

"Do what, sorry?" You cleared your throat in confusion. He'd definitely seen something.

Jason tensed beside you.

"Tim and I had a bet that Jay wouldn't get you away from the lab," He smirked, "I believed in you, brother, even put money on you."

Phew.

Jason laughed, but it was forced, "Right,"

Dick stared between the two of you and nodded once, "Well, both of you should get to bed. It's late, and we need to be up first thing." Dick then left. Now it was just you two.

You turned to him, "We have to tell them at some point."

He shook his head, "We've spoken about this. You know how they'll get. Especially that bloodlusty little freak–" You nudged him when he spoke about Damian like that. He fake winced, "He's a little shit and you know it,"

You shook your head at him and wrapped your arms around his neck and planted a soft kiss on his lips, "Thank you, by the way, for that." You gestured towards the hood of the car.

When you hugged him tighter, you felt it, prodding into you like a weapon in a utility belt – which wasn't far off. You chuckled, pulling away and walking backwards towards the lab.

"Might want to sort yourself out," You smiled. He looked down at himself, not even noticing. He huffed.

"You sure you can't spare two more minutes?" He adjusted himself in his waistband.

You laughed, "We both know you like to drag it out," he groaned at the mental image he'd ingrained in his head. "See you tomorrow, Jason," You smiled, entering the lab once again.

.ᐟrequests are open .ᐟ

[cinder-rxse]

Hi! So I'm kinda new to your channel. May I request one fic w like Damian Wayne or dick Grayson OR Jason Todd (you choose) with a reader whos naturally distance due to like a bad childhood. And they have an argument on that MAKE IT ANGSTY BUT END WITH FLUFF PLEASE. Only if it's like comfortable for you! :p

ˎˊ˗ perfect girl – jason todd

hii!! i'm just gonna write for jason bc idk if ill do dick justice yk and i feel bad writing abt damian bc in my mind hes a literal child (i wouldnt do damian justice either) hope u enjoy x idk if i did the prompt justice so i might heavily edit/rewrite bits of this but here we areee

You'd not spoken to Jason in a while. Not for any reason in particular, you just didn't necessarily feel the need. To be fair, Jason hadn't spoken to you recently either. He'd come home exhausted from patrol, and you'd come home spent after a long day of work. The first thing both of you wanted to do was just go to sleep.

Tonight you were watching the news, Chinese food on your lap. The door clicked open.

You turned your head to see him taking off his Red Hood helmet.

"I ordered takeout for you," You said with a mouth full of noodles, "It's probably gone cold, but you can nuke it and it'll taste the same."

You flinched when he threw his helmet on the floor.

"What the fuck is going on, huh?" he shook his head, his hands gesturing in front of him.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared at him, confused.

"What are you talking about?"

"What am I talking about?" he laughed bitterly, "How about the fact you've decided to go mute for the past however long. I actually forgot you had a fuckin' voice,"

"Jason..." You sighed as you put the takeout box onto the coffee table in front of you.

"What did I do now? Hm?" he sounded exasperated, "Tell me. How did I fuck it all up this time? How did I manage to push you away again? Come on, lecture me."

"You haven't done anything, I promise."

"THEN WHAT THE FUCK IS IT?!" he yelled. You jumped at the volume change.

"Dont yell at me." Your voice shook slightly, and his face softened the tiniest bit.

"Don't ignore me,"

"I'm not ignoring you," You say, wide-eyed, "You're pushing me away too–"

"Wow."

"No, seriously." You stand up now, maybe to assert some dominance in the conversation.

He exhales, calming himself down the way his, in his words, 'money-grabbing shrink' taught him. He took a few steps towards you, bringing you in for a hug. His hands around your neck and a hand in your hair, yours around his middle.

"I'm sorry for yelling," he whispered into your hair, "I just don't want to fuck this up. And if I've done something to shut you out..." he pulled away, hands trailing down your arms to take your hands in his, "What'd I do, baby. Tell me, I'll fix it."

His eyes searched yours for an answer. Truth was, it had nothing to do with him.

"It's not you..." You said softly.

"It's always me, don't be fuckin' ridiculous," he shook his head.

"See, this is–" You break away from his hands as you pace back and forth, "This is why I can't do this..."

You feel your breathing pick up, "What are you saying..." he said darkly.

You stopped dead in your tracks.

"I am not perfect, Jason. Shocker, I know." You snapped, the words spilling out before you could censor them, "You– You put me on this pedestal like– like I'm this crazily amazing perfect Barbie doll that is new and shiny and pristine and– I'm not a–" Your breathing was doing that thing again, fuck.

"Baby," he tried to come towards you, but you gestured for him to stay put.

"No, no. You need to hear this. Really hear this." You brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face, "I know that you think you're worth less than me because of what happened in Arkham. You think I'm– That I'm not has dirtied or as ruined as you are," his face dropped as you mentioned that pit of hell, "And I'd never ever compare my shit to yours Jason, never. Because you'll always have me beat. But my God, am I fucked up too,"

He tilted his head, not understanding the words that were coming out of your mouth. As if you were speaking a foreign language.

"Every night you go out there, I could lose you. And that might sound like a trivial, non–issue type problem, but you are the only thing keeping me from spiralling down a rabbit hole of all this dark shit wound up inside me. So yeah, I've been... distant. Because if I lose–" you pause, the muscles of your eyes aching as tears begin to form, "I really can't lose you."

He was in complete shock. He'd fully thought he was in the wrong; she'd been mad at him. He couldn't have been more wrong.

"You shouldn't worry about me," he mumbled softly, concern in his eyes.

"Fucks sake," You throw your head back, turning away from him to look out the window to the apocalyptic street your small apartment overlooks, "Just go to bed, I need a minute."

You hear him sigh, then the sounds of his footsteps get closer.

"Jason, I'm serious. Just leave me alone," You warn, but just as you're about to say something else, his arms wrap around you from behind. Chin on the top of your head.

"I've done the whole death thing already," he mutters, "I'm not doing it again any time soon,"

You leaned back into him, "You can't promise that."

"Well, I just did. Kill me," You let out a puff of air as he said that. It wasn't funny, but he was trying to lighten the mood. "Where'd this come from?"

His fingers began tracing shapes, and you dissolved further into his touch, head falling back onto his chest.

"You were a street kid. You see a lot of shit, make friends with people who disappear. You know how it goes. " He kissed your head as you said that, humming.

Then you spun around, looking up at him.

You tried to apologise to him, but he interrupted you with a tender, slow kiss. Butterflies swarmed your stomach, heat rushing to your face as you pulled back.

"If I ever yell at you again, you take a gun and shoot me. I'm serious– Oh–" He quickly panicked at the death mention, considering everything you'd said, "I mean– shoot me in a non-life-ending way. Fuck,"

You gave him a sad smile, "I love you. A lot."

"Your loss," he smirked as he leaned back down for a kiss.

.ᐟ requests are open .ᐟ

[cinder-rxse]

ˎˊ˗ late night diner – jason todd

sfw. NOTES: meet cute moment – fluff (in my mind, jasons awkward around attractive women when he first meets them)

IT WAS THE NIGHT SHIFT. You'd been working here for about a week now, the smell of burgers and coffee permanently stuck to your clothes and hair.

You were horrendously bored, sweeping the floors even though there wasn't a thing in sight, and the song that was on was oddly depressing for sixties music. So you walked over to the jukebox to turn it off. As you took out the CD, you had an idea. You turned to make sure there was no one in the booths. This was going to be fun.

Ain 't No Mountain High Enough – Marvin Gaye, Tammi Terrell

Hell fucking yes.

This song brought you so many good memories of you and your mom during 'Karaoke Friday's' in your living room. You swore this was the first song you'd ever listened to.

So you'd decided to bring the old family tradition into the lonesome, deserted diner. Turning up the jukebox and singing to the absolute top of your lungs, using the stick of the broom as if it were a stick microphone. Dancing like nobody was watching, because nobody was.

Until you spun around and were met by a pair of eyes. You froze.

And of course, he was fucking gorgeous.

He raised his eyebrows a little, looking you up and down. You cleared your throat and ran to the jukebox to turn it back down.

"Can I– How can I help you?" You said, out of breath as you were desperately trying to fiddle with the volume dial.

He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, standing awkwardly as a big guy in a small space. You hadn't quite taken him in until you turned back to look at him for a second time. He must've been six-four, the broadest shoulders you'd ever seen. And his face, you'd known it was handsome upon first glance thirty seconds ago. But now you saw all the scars peppered across the bridge of his nose, chin, cheeks, and forehead.

"Hello?" You finally heard as you stopped staring so intensely.

"P-Pardon?" You spluttered.

"Just a coffee. Black," he said smoothly, pressing his lips into a thin line as his eyes darted around. He then helped himself to a seat. It was almost comical how big he looked in the small booth.

"Right," You breathed out as you spun on your heel, walking behind the counter. You turned on the machine that poured water through a strainer filled with fresh coffee beans and into a large glass jug.

You stole another glance at him. His posture was atrocious, as if the top of his vertebrae had merged into a slumped line. He'd definitely broken his nose as a kid, the slope interrupted by a small bump. His hands fiddled on the table in front of him; he looked on edge. To be fair, they were still in Gotham.

Once the coffee had brewed, you poured it into a mug and walked it over to him.

"Coffee at 11PM? Big night?" You placed your hands on your lower hips as you spoke, trying to fake confidence.

He looked up at you, "Nice song choice," he said simply. The faintest of smiles on his face.

You froze, letting out a noise that was like a laugh but not quite.

You turned back towards the counter, walking behind it again as you heard.

"You here alone?"

Fear ran up your spine as you looked at him again. He was fiddling with the cup at this point – rotating it by the handle, "I have pepper spray near the sink and a gun under this cabinet."

"No– I didn't mean it like that, it's just," he squeezed his eyes shut, realising how creepy that must've sounded, "It's Gotham, someone else should be here with you."

"Well," You mumbled, embarrassed you'd turned on him like that, "It's comforting to know a random stranger has more compassion for me than my own boss,"

There was silence for a while. You tried to look busy, even though you really weren't. You fiddled with all the machines, cleaned the already pristine countertops. You even walked out the back, stood in the storage room for a few minutes before returning.

"I always preferred the eighties," he spoke as he approached the till, waiting to pay clearly.

You walked towards the cash register.

"A bit aggressive, don't you think?" You smiled as you took the money from him.

You saw him cock his head to the side, "No, not at all,"

You chuckled as you put the money into the till and sorted his change.

"I don't know why, but I always think of Michael Jackson when I hear the eighties." Your eyes flicked up to his, then back down to the money again.

"Well then," he reaches out and takes his change from your hand.

"Well then," You repeated. Was this a moment? Are you two having a moment? He's staring. Just staring at you.

He gives you a nod, walking backwards to leave, "Dance moves were shit by the way."

You scoff, "So are the eighties."

He shakes his head and exits, the bell ringing snapping you out of your spell. Woah.

i felt like a meet-cute moment. sue me. maybe a cheeky part 2?? idk lmk

[cinder-rxse]

– SEND ME REQUESTS PLEASE!!

I would love to start writing what you guys want me to. Anonymous requests are on, but I've heard about people taking advantage of that, so please don't be disrespectful to me.

If you've read my work, you know what I'm willing to write about. No harm in asking.

Alright, luv ya.

– cindy x

[cinder-rxse]

ˎˊ˗ moonlight – dick grayson

DICK GRAYSON was how you knew him. How you loved him. Nightwing was a whole new kettle of fish. The city needed him more and more now, which left a lot less time for you. You understood, never giving him a hard time about it. But man, would it be nice to just have one night, no interruptions.

You're in your shared apartment, washing a dish. Your own dish. The one you made dinner for one on. You sighed, realising you'd been scrubbing it for over ten minutes and there was nothing left to clean on it. You dropped the plate in the sink with a little more force than necessary, bringing your hands to your face. You'd told yourself you'd wait up for him, but it was getting really late. Looking at the clock, it said – 05:45 AM

What the fuck.

You could've sworn it was midnight a second ago. You shook your head as you headed towards the bedroom. That's when the window in the living room slid open, and there he was. Nightwing. You rubbed your eyes, making sure you weren't hallucinating due to exhaustion.

He was trying to be quiet, but then he noticed you standing there. Blank, tired expression, wearing his shirt and his sweatpants.

"Hey, earlybird," he said softly as he closed the window behind him, stepping into the apartment, "You look gorgeous for a woman who's just woken up."

"Just going to bed, actually," You said coldly, "Nice to know you haven't been killed. See you in a few hours, or not. Who knows?"

You turn to go towards the bedroom again when you hear him come up behind you.

He grabs your arm, and you turn to look at him, "What's going on?" he eyed you as he spoke, "Are we alright?"

You huff, "We as in who? We, as in me and my boyfriend, Dick Grayson? Six foot tall on a good day, jerks off to his own reflection? Thinks he's being cute when his girlfriend stayed up all night worrying where he was, only to hit her with – Are we alright?" You blurted, out of breath now. "Or we, as in me and Nightwing. Because frankly, I've been seeing more of him lately than the guy under it."

He stood there, dumfounded. He pressed his lips into a thin line. Gotham had been really busy with crime lately; there was nothing he could do. But saying that to the heavily sleep-deprived woman in front of him... Yeah, he knew that would end in a worse blow than any of the hits he'd taken from the thugs on the streets.

"I'm really sorry, truly," he says as he starts walking closer to you, "I've missed you a lot. Thought about you a lot on missions," he said this whilst wiggling his eyebrows. and smirking, taking off his mask.

"Ugh, you're gross." You roll your eyes, but you try to hide the smile on your face.

He then pulls you into an embrace, one of his hands sliding into the hair on the back of your head, the other in between your shoulders. You wrap your arms around his middle.

"Dick Grayson, you could charm your way out of literally anything." You whispered as your cheek was pressed into his shoulder.

You pulled back to wrap your arms around his neck, his arms snaked around your waist as you leaned up and placed a quick kiss on his lips.

He smiles mischievously, oh no.

"Is all that junk food shit I got you still in the fridge?" He asks, almost excitedly, which was strange because he always believed in fueling your body the right way. Which you completely disagreed with.

"Yeah," You said suspiciously. His grin widens. What was he getting at?

Ten minutes later, you were both huddled up on the couch under sheets you'd stolen from your own bed as if you were kids building a fort. On the coffee table sat food that was so bad for you it could probably give you instant heart disease – and the movie of choice? Well, Dick Grayson chose La La Land.

As you lie there, in his arms, you don't notice his staring. His hand raked through your hair as he smiled to himself like an absolute idiot.

His life is so much better when it revolves around you. These simple, domestic moments made him feel at so much ease, which was a luxury not many people in his position could have.

Honestly? You hadn't watched most of the movie, too busy with your tongues in each other's mouths, sinking deeper into the couch as the wet sounds of your mouths filled the room. For a moment, you'd even thought maybe this would... escalate. Hands wandering, hips starting to rock.

But then, a scene he seems to recognise comes on. And Dick pulls back with another one of his signature – up to absolutely no good – smirks. He gets up off the couch, offering a hand out to you.

"No," You shook your head at him.

"M'lady," he said, sarcasm lacing his voice, "Might I please have this dance?"

"Dick, I'm not–"

"Dancing's good for the soul," he said with another one of his signature butterfly-enducing smiles as he reached out further for your hand. You let him take it, groaning as you stood up.

He then starts singing the lyrics to you. He was a shit awful singer. You couldn't help but laugh. You took his hand, and he spun you around a few times before he then tried teaching you to tap dance – as if he had any fucking idea. You laughed so much you had tears glistening in your eyes. It was ridiculous how immature he would act, but it was so sweet. He was so much of a man that when he did things like this, like he didn't care about anything other than making you smile, even if it meant embarrassing himself – that's why you were with him.

And when the scene finally ended, he kissed you.

When he pulled back, there was something more serious in his eyes.

"I love you. God, I love you," he murmured under his breath as he leaned in to kiss you again, the sun coming up casting a dream–like haze that filled up the room.

It felt like you were in a movie now; he was perfect. Though if he started singing again, you might throw yourself out the window.

NOTES: wrote this whole thing at 3am then realised ari says fucking sun is setting and im doing a whole ass sunrise omg ignore that – lowk might rewrite but here u go

– NAVIGATION | ᜊ masterlist | ꒰১ dangerous woman masterlist |

[cinder-rxse]

ᝰ.ᐟ dangerous woman; masterlist ꒱

a series of JASON TODD/DICK GRAYSON X READER one-shots/drabbles inspired the dangerous woman album by ariana grande

moonlight – dick grayson (suggestive, mostly fluff)

dangerous woman – jason todd as arkham knight

be alright – dick grayson

into you – dick grayson

side to side – jason todd as arkham knight

let me love you – jason todd

greedy – dick grayson

leave me lonely – jason todd

everyday – dick grayson

sometimes – dick grayson

i dont care – jason todd

bad decisions – jason todd

touch it – jason todd

knew better / forever boy – dick grayson

thinking bout you – dick grayson

step on up –  dick grayson

jason's song (gave it away) – jason todd with a side of dick grayson

figured i'd do something fun to break up the writer's block before i get back to writing hollow/exodus/mania ofc.