slayer

she/her 24 enfj pisces☆ live laugh love lain 🗯 ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀haikyuu, DC, marvel, multifandom 🐈‍⬛⠀slay

[cocothesaxplayer]

Dating Jason Todd headcanons

warnings: fluff ig, allusions to sex, none really

first things first, this man is big. I'm talking HUGE. 6'5, 225 pounds, big di-😝😝😝 (who said thatt). Biceps bigger than your head with thighs for daysss.One hand can AND WILL cover your whole face.

Would probably die before admiting to this but he most definitely is an ass man.

ALWAYS making jokes about how he died. "Oh my gosh, Jay! You almost scared me to death." "Y'know I died once. That ain't funny." You slap him on the shoulder.

Eats the whole pan of food you JUST cooked five minutes ago. You could be the worst chef in the world and he'll eat it just because you made it for him. Before dating Jason, you'd probably grocery shopping once a week when you had the time. After him it's twice a week minimum (This man is a EATER, in more than one way 😝)

rides a Kawasaki Ninja 650 all black(always has an extra helmet for you babe, his is red obviii) Also owns a black Dodge Challenger that him and Roy like to work on( the man can afford both please ex-crime lord + loaded dada, like i know dada)

You are only aloud to call him Jay, Jace, sweetie, babe, etc. The second you call him "Jason" he is on his knees begging for forgiveness for whatever he did "Jason" is reserved for when you are mad at him(and the bedroom but that's another story shhh)

Jason Amazing-cook-and-baker Todd (I will die on that island you can't convince me otherwise) Loves taking care of the food in the kitchen for you

BIGGEST gossiper and drama king He wants to know everything always and probably keeps binoculars near the living room window when the couple down the street fights for the millionth time "Jace, what are you doing with binoculars?" "Tv broke and Jenny caught Steve gambling. Again." He grumbles, too focused on his evening entertainment. "What?!"

Is begging on his knees and if he REALLY MESSED UP even in public. Whiny but always makes it up to you

You both argue a lot but not in a toxic sense. More in a healthy relationship we-need-to-stop-avoiding-issues-until-they-blow-up-in-our-faces kinda

Cheats in uno

Psycho-analyses your taste in music, books, shows, movies A song you played in the car mentions depression and he almost crashes the car

To be fair, He is a really good driver (used to street race) but he gets distracted with a beauty like you next to him

REFUSES anyone but you in the passenger seat Has thrown Roy out the car and WILL do it again for his queen Roy always sits in the back middle seat, leaning forward talking both of yours ears off (big mouth most def...)

You have threaten Roy to keep his hands of YOUR man and will thrown hands if he tries anything(like he really be thinking its the THREE of you together)

Jason isn't usually big on pet names but for you he issssss. he'll use a shortened version of your name ALSO: my queen (yes he does i don't wanna hear it), baby, babe, honey, sweetie, doll,etc,.

whimperer... ( I will not be elaborating) high key moaner too (pull his hair ughhhhh i know he slut for that)

[bloomcissa]

you’re having his baby?

꒰ content ꒱ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ drunk!jason todd x fem!reader, fluff, talks of pregnancies, art by ciricearts

“Sweetheart, we’re gonna have a baby?” he mumbles, lifting your shirt to press messy kisses up your stomach. You’re not sure where he got this idea from. The two of you have never talked about kids, mostly because you’ve been afraid to bring it up.

You learned early on that the future was something you didn’t mention around him. Every time you made an offhand comment about a ring, or how cute babies were, you’d see his shoulders tense, his throat bobbing.

Now, at his words, your heart speeds up. “Uh…”

“I hope she has your eyes and your nose and your pretty smile,” he slurs.

“Jay, what are you—”

He cuts you off when his nose brushes your stomach softly. “Our baby,” he adds. 

When he looks up at you, his blue eyes are glassy, cheeks dusted in pink.

You can’t bring yourself to shatter the moment. Especially not when he’s looking at you like that.

“That’s…nice, honey,” you hum, fingers threading through his black curls, nails scratching lightly at his scalp.

He sighs like a puppy. “You feel nicer.”

Your lips curve up at that. "Come on, let's get you to bed," you whisper as you try to pull him up.

But the man's too stubborn. He stays rooted and grunts in disapproval. 

"Not done talkin' to her," he tells you, arms wrapping around your hips.

“her?” you repeat softly. “How do you know it’s a her?”

"Father's intuition," he says it like it should be obvious. 

You laugh and he pouts when he feels your shoulders shaking. "You really want a baby?" you ask him. 

He tilts his head. And he's never looked so unguarded before. 

"Wanna give you everything." 

Maybe in the morning you'll find the courage to ask him again. But for now, your expression softens. You don't know what to say, so you kneel with him and throw your arms around his neck. He smells like gunpowder and leather, and this time a tang of alcohol clings to him. 

he’s always smelled like home.

"Princess?" he whispers.

"Yeah?

"what're we naming her?" 

Instead of replying, you just hug him tighter.

masterlist

[banakinbabygirl]

dad bod

pairing: dad bod!jason todd x pregnant/post-partum!reader

warnings: fatherhood headcanons for daddy jay. fluff. somewhat graphic childbirth descriptions.

—

jason todd is the type of man to try and match his partner’s size as she grows their child.

he indulges you in all your cravings, and encourages you to keep eating until you’re sufficiently full.

he claims there’s no such thing as dieting when you’re eating for two.

his favourite pregnancy craving of yours was dipping pickles into vanilla ice cream.

part of you thinks he’s excited to have someone who can eat as much as he can without restraint or concern.

and so he gets big with you, without the obvious pregnancy excuse. but he will still use the pregnancy as a reason for his weight gain to family.

“we’re pregnant. together.” he explains while rubbing his own stomach.

he takes time off the streets of gotham to prepare for the baby’s arrival and to take care of you. his lack of intensive movement causes his body to expand deliciously. arms, legs, backside. you take great pleasure in squishing his chub.

he tries to act too mighty for your squeezes, but he quickly grew fond of your attention, going as far as to put your hands over his ass to play with it.

but you know he loves to reciprocate. and he just cannot get enough of how pregnancy is making you glow. he’s obsessed with your plump body, and will take any opportunity to touch, kneed and love on your new form.

every stretch mark is adored, hyperpigmentation kissed, and swollen skin massaged. he’s almost annoyingly attentive; knows exactly what you need before you get the chance to complain.

his hard abs get cushioned by a soft layer of fat, a layer he’s proud to have.

“soft for the baby. don’t want her to cut herself on these bad boys,” he rubs his hand over his squishy abs when regarding you with a wink.

and he wholeheartedly believes it’ll be a girl.

a girl would be a dream. he could be gentle, soft, affectionate; learn how to braid hair and play tea parties. protect her from the evil of the world.

but a boy? jason wouldn’t know what to do. he’d want the kid to grow up tough, a protector, but what if he ended up like him? he wouldn’t want his son growing up with a father like his. what if he abandons him, dies when he’s just a kid, or puts him in harms way? he couldn’t bare the thought of repeating the cycle. so he prays for a girl.

his favourite part of your nightly routine includes rubbing your feet while you read in bed. he makes you read aloud, some classic he’d picked out for you to read to the baby.

at first, jason was terrified of becoming a father. after everything he’d been through, he couldn’t see himself doing a good job. but he was never the running type.

he was going to stick by you and the baby the way no one ever stuck beside him.

and when it’s finally time for the baby to arrive, he’s more afraid than you are. he goes eerily quiet, eyes scanning every hospital room you’re moved to. he doesn’t want anyone to touch you unless absolutely necessary, and stands watch at the door like a guard dog.

when it’s go time, he’s sooo involved. fully decked out in scrubs and a bouffant cap. he had held your hand until you just about crushed it while pushing. that’s when he decided to move closer to the action.

the doctors had him right between your legs, arms braced to catch your child. jason had seen men sliced and torn apart, but nothing had horrified him more than watching your body tear as you birthed your baby. that had him questioning ever sleeping with you again if it meant putting you through that kind of pain once more.

he guided their little head out of the canal and placed them right atop your bosom while the nurses rubbed their back until it finally breathed in life.

hearing those first cries, he was a mess. you both were. but seeing giant, hardened jason todd crying over a newborn was a sobering, and somewhat hilarious sight for you. you know he’s all mush under all his makeshift walls, but this was a whole other level.

jason has never experienced the kind of love he felt in that moment. he knew he could never go back to the life he used to lead. no. his whole world now revolves around you and that tiny, wriggly human being covered in goop.

he’s tries not to cry during the first bath. baby wails the whole time while he rinses their little body. he hates making them upset so much it makes his chest ache.

but he loves skin-to-skin. he’s very happy to let you sleep and lay the bub on his bare chest, puffing out his belly to support their weight. and the little thing finally quietens down when they’re being held by daddy.

jason lugs the carrycot out of the hospital with equal amounts of pride and protectiveness. you eat it up, recording him from behind when you’re finally discharged.

and when you get home, he refuses to sleep. which is great for you; you’re happy to entrust jason with the baby to catch up on some much needed rest. but jason is wired like never before, watching the baby breathe as it sleeps like a hawk, and rushing to soothe every cry.

it takes a few days to convince him the baby won’t choke in their sleep, and he finally relents, cuddling up to you lovingly, so grateful for everything you’ve done to get to this point. he gets you heat packs and medicine for the recovery pain, never pushing you or expecting anything from you. and he loves to rub your deflating belly as you fall asleep.

but sleep cycles are short, and jason jumps every time the baby wakes. he’s quick to ready bottles for feeding, and is a pro at changing nappies in the first week home.

he doesn’t even mind if the baby spits up on him, just happy to hold them over his shoulder and rub their back until they feel better. he never knew how much fatherhood suited him. he couldn’t imagine a life without his baby and lover.

he’s everything he thought he wouldn’t be. the ultimate father, partner and human being.

[stcrgazerlily]

━━━━━━━ DOUBLE RAINBOW

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bf!jason todd x sunshine!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a rainy day forces you and jason to stay inside. you obviously spend it cuddling and kissing on the couch

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: domesticity!! fluff, jason is very much in love

<𝟑: part of the 1k event! ty for requesting jacy ilysm loml :), 500 words

Rainy days in Gotham have the ability to transform the apartment where you and Jason live. The light is soft and grey— almost shy. It filters into the living room until everything feels dimmer, giving it that washed-out look.

Jason isn’t the biggest fan of rainy days. Or well, wasn't. 

The kettle is hissing in the kitchen while you hum a popular song. Jason steps into the kitchen, slowly wrapping his arms around you from behind.

You laugh. “Someone’s feeling clingy today.”

He mumbles something, his lips pressed against the crook of your neck, sending tingles through your body. “This is about to be…” The kettle whistles loudly. "done!"

Jason picks it up before you can, slowly pouring the water into two colourful mugs. He’ll never say it aloud, but he loves those ugly things. It was one of your first dates as an official couple, when you took him to a flea market, and there they were. Bright, ugly odd patterns, and uneven surface.

The two of you slowly move toward the couch. You set down your mug while Jason takes a sip.

He sets down his mug as you inch even closer to him. “You won’t believe what I heard about Marcy in 2B.”

You perk up immediately. “Is this good gossip or life-ruining gossip?”

“Depends,” he says, trying to suppress a smile.

“Jason,” you say sternly. Or well, as sternly as you can manage.

“Remember the guy who kept stealing everyone’s packages?”

Your eyes widen. “The one with the suspiciously tiny dog?”

“That’s the one.”

“What about him?”

This time, Jason does smile. “Turns out the dog wasn’t his.”

You gasp dramatically, a hand flying to your chest. “No.”

“Yeah.”

“Jason Todd, don’t ‘yeah’ me. Elaborate.”

He chuckles. “Apparently the dog’s actual owner put flyers up around the building. Marcy recognized him from the security footage.”

You stare at him in disbelief. “I’ve never been more invested in strangers’ lives.”

He rolls his eyes. “You know all their names.”

“Duh, because we’re neighbors.”

“You made banana bread for the lady in 5A because her ficus died.”

“She was grieving.”

“It was a plant,” he deadpans.

“Plants are living things too, you know?”

He laughs and kisses you. You giggle between kisses, sneaking your hand under his hoodie until your palm is in direct contact with his skin.

Jason gets unusually quiet while watching the rain tapping softly on the window, your hand still touching his skin but he doesn’t make an attempt at moving.

“What are you thinking?” You ask softly.

He shrugs. "I used to hate days like this."

"Why?"

"No patrol." A small pause. "Too much time to think."

You don't respond, simply listen with your full attention.

Jason looks at you, a tiny smile gracing his lips. "Guess they're not so bad anymore."

He swiftly grabs your hips and straddles you on top of him. You smile and lean down again. Jason is exactly where he wants to be.

[preztail]

⋮ ⌗ ┆i know i'm funny, haha

sitting around a drinking sake with steph, cass, babs, and the girls crew turns into a drunk call to a certain person.

aka: jason todd picks you up and you chatter drunkenly with him, and hang off of his biceps. a girl can dream.

tw: female reader in mind! drinking & getting drunk!

"no- because like, why would you everrr uhh post something like that," the slurring in your voice is gentle, almost like a breeze or sunshine against the ocean waves. even if you are holding onto stephanie, a pre-game gone into jackbox girls night and giggling into fits of drunken laughter.

the wine flows almost more than the positivity, even if you are all making fun of ex's and such. "i don't know!" stephanie says, almost at the same level you are, curled into each other as you both giggle over a photo thats blurring back and forth of tim. making fun of him is healthy, and easy. mostly easy.

"steph, what if- like...we called one of yourrr brothers, my one of yours," it's so slurred, and the rest of the girls are in their own worlds. barbara and raven are talking about some meeting that happened earlier in the year. kori and cassandra are bonding over how much easier it is to understand people by actions than words.

while you and stephanie are being mature twenty somethings, making fun of ex's and trash talking. so what.

"your one of mine? you have- uhhh what? one of mine?" she mumbles, her blonde curls going in and out of your fingers. her apartment light showing off her dimples perfectly.

you and jason have been...more of a secret than anything. or at least more lowkey. only barbara knows, because she practically set you two up 'on accident'. like putting both of the most controversial vigilantes in a room who both love literature wasn't a setup.

"jay!" you exclaim, louder than you mean. wine stained lips, pupils enlarged, but happy, smile on your face that's louder than your words. you didn't plan on getting tipsy- or drunk, so you didn't exactly tell him about this plan.

you can see barbara clock the situation faster than you could say 'oracle' as she calls him up, but your mind doesn't comprehend it, as you immediately tell steph and whoever else that want's to listen about jason. how strong and handsome and kind and everything else he is.

he's there in less time than you expected, walking into stephanie's apartment and apologizing for interupting girls night. which you respond to with a resound 'yeah!' even if seconds ago you said you were missing him.

your body language is languid, about as fluid as the jello shots you had earlier. attempting to stand up, which felt slow to you, but somehow he caught you quickly. dizzy, but he's so handsome. handsome enough to make you feel even warmer, and more blurry than you did before.

"we trashed- uhmn trashhh trashed, tim." you say, not very cognisant, but happy, smile on your face as you try to tell jason what's been happening as he chats with barbara quickly to try to get an estimated amount of drinks. he moves his eyes to ask steph, but she's already asleep, drunk and happy too.

your finger pokes his face, as if checking that he's real, leaning onto him like a kid who just discovered a playground. a soft 'mhn' leaves you, warm, feeling him up very unintentionally in front of his sisters and his co-workers. awkward, but sweet in a weird way.

"jayyyy yeah and i sooo thank you for pickingg us- me up," you hick, gently, at least some words are forming right, even if your eyes are glossed over.

"come on baby, let's get you home," is said, and the world moves fast and slow, somehow getting home in seconds yet hours. you remember the car ride, and the singing but it also feels like it happened in a blink.

"i think your sisters are sooo prettyy, i made steph laughh and she said that i uh, i'm funny. but i knowww so totally know i'm funny, haha," you slur, stumbling into your apartment and taking off your shoes.

clingy to independent, like she's trying her best. even if she's practically using the couch like it's her body weight and crutch. he laughs, just a little, not at you, but the situation.

"yeah baby? she did?" he asks, tone warm, in a way that makes your skin feel warmer than it already does.

"mmhnn i feel happy," she says, sappy, as she leans into him, blinking slowly up at his soft eyes like a cat. her hands gripping onto his belt loops, and giving an attempted kiss to his cheek. it lands on his jawline but that's okay. he strokes your hair, giving your temple a kiss as he says something about a headache in the morning. swooping you off your feet and into bed.

you don't remember how you got changed, and swaddled against jason, but your cheeks are still warm, your body curled into his as you commit his face to memory, even drunk. a soft "i love you jayjayjay," leaves your lips, hands finding his chest and using his body like a stuffed animal. falling asleep fast, like it's a race you are trying to win against him. drool and all, but he's happy you are safe. whispering gentle truths about you as you sleep.

"pretty girl," he says, kiss against your forehead as his big hands play with your hair. "thank you for trusting me," he whispers, kiss right beside your right ear, and a soft whine of a response from your sleeping self.

he texts barbara to ask how many drinks you had so he can plan for tomorrow. until then, he makes sure you don't stir, reading a book to you before sleep takes over him too.

i haven't written a drunk character before, but i get giggly and happy so i wanted to do something i can't really relate to but that was fun! thank you faye webster for the title inspo and song lyric in this. my hero actually.

[froggibus]

 — Press Pause

Includes: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Wally West & Hal Jordan

Summary: stopping them during sex for a 'silly' reason

Content/CW -> gn! reader + afab! reader (wally's), mentions of blood/periods, suggestive/slight nsfw, reader has hair (hal's part), mostly just funny silly

 — requested by the amazing lovely talented @gothamorphosis (go check out their smaus they EAT!)

froggi yaps -> had this in my inbox foreverrr ;-; so happy im finally getting to it cause its such a fun idea :p couldn't decide on characters so i just went back to my roots <3 also huge content dump today teehee

Dick Grayson:

You thought you were being slick, taking your hand off the back of Dick’s neck and inching it towards the nightstand. 

Dick stills inside of you, tilting his head at you in confusion. There’s a goofy smile on his face. “What’s up?”

You blink at him, wiping a hand over your sweat-slicked forehead. “I need water,” you smile sheepishly. 

He chuckles, grabbing the comically large water bottle he keeps on his nightstand and flicking out the straw. You prop yourself up on your elbows, Dick holding up the bottle to your lips. 

You sip on it, the water instantly cooling you down and fixing the dry ache on your tongue. 

“Good?” He asks and when you nod, he puts it to his own mouth and chugs about half the bottle in one go. 

You watch him chug it, his throat bobbing and water glistening on the corners of his mouth. His own hair is sweaty, stuck to his head and dangling over his forehead. 

You reach up and swipe a strand away. Dick puts the water bottle back down, letting his body sandwich you against the mattress again. 

“You know,” he mumbles in your ear, “I didn’t realize I tire you out so much you needed a water break.” 

You smack his bicep. “Shut up.”

He rolls his hips into yours, a smirk on his face. “Are you sure you want to have an attitude right now?”

You swallow, shaking your head. 

Jason Todd:

Jason’s off you the minute the word slips from your lips, pulling himself back with his hands raised in surrender. His lips are parted slightly, dark brows furrowed in concern as he analyzes your body. Your legs are shaking, face twisted in pain.

“Everything okay? What’s going on?”

Oh god. He hurt you, he was too rough and he hurt you and you’re in pain and you’re never going to trust him again and—

You arch your back on the bed, twisting and stretching your limbs. “Leg cramp.”

He blinks. “Leg…cramp?”

“Mhm,” you hum, pulling a knee to your chest. 

The hammering in Jason’s chest stills, his face blank in that way it gets when he’s not sure what to think. 

“Jay?” You cock your head to the side, looking at him through your lashes, “you alright?”

“I thought,” he frowns, “I thought you were hurt, or something.”

You laugh, pressing a hand to his cheek and leaning in for a kiss. You ghost your lips over his, smiling into him, “you think too much.”

He cups the back of your neck, laying you back down on the bed. “Maybe, wanna help me with that?”

“Gladly.”

Wally West:

“Wally.”

The redhead hums, head sunk low in the dip between your shoulder and neck, giving no indication of stopping. You shove at his shoulder. 

“Wally!”

He pulls away, eyes glassy and pupils blown, hair a total mess. He blinks, “sorry, fuck, is everything alright?”

“I think…I just started my period.”

“Okay,” he says, pursing his lips and leaning back in to kiss your neck again. 

“Wally—I’m gonna stain your sheets.”

He shrugs. “So? I’m not scared of a little blood.”

“I’m gonna make a mess.”

“It’s just blood,” he repeats.

“But—“

He cups your face, squishing your cheeks together. “Look, doll. If you’re in pain or you don’t want to keep going, say the word. But if you’re stopping because of me, cause you think I’ll be grossed out or something, don’t.”

You sigh, falling back into the sheets and tentatively parting your legs. “You swear its fine?”

Wally grins ear to ear. “Swear on my sheets.”

Hal Jordan:

Hal stares at you blankly when you pull away from him with a wince, rubbing the side of your head. One minute, you seemed to be enjoying yourself, your hands on his chest and head against his shoulder while he thrusted into you.

“What’s up?” He asks, still breathless.

You point to his hand, specifically the ring sitting on one of his wide fingers. In it rests a small chunk of your hair, strands splayed out every which-way. Hal holds it in front of his eyes, eyebrows shooting up as he realizes what happened.

“Is that?”

You nod, “my hair? Mhm.”

He smiles sheepishly, plucking it out from where it’s gotten caught on the band and discarding it over the side of the bed. “Jesus,” he shakes his head.

“Yeah,” you frown, scrunching your nose. “Hurt like a bitch.”

“Aw,” he teases, a huge grin on his face, “need me to kiss it better?”

And to his surprise and delight, you nod, leaning your head in so Hal can run his lips over your temple. He catches you in his arms then, pulling you back into his chest.

dc masterlist | navigation

thanks for reading & have a wonderful week /ᐠ > ˕ <マ ₊˚⊹♡

[ferbaby]

spoiled rotten

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ pairing — jason todd x fem!reader

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ sypnosis — in which jason has gotten used to your affection aka he's spoiled

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ tags — fluff, domesticity, slice of life, puppy jason?, kinda based off my last fic, ooc jason, mild language, reader loves him... even if she denies it, strict reader back at it

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ wc — 1.6k

author's note — thank you guys for all the support my last fic got! i love u guys so much sooo i had this one in my drafts and it's all yours

you were just humming in the kitchen, washing up the big ol’ pile of dishes in the sink. jason wanted to help, but you said no, really because he wasn't super great at it, but hey, you liked that he put in the effort.

your pyjamas were all soft and snug on your skin, thanks to jason throwing them in the dryer before you changed. but you had this sneaky feeling he picked out the tiniest ones on purpose.

the wooden scrubber in your hand was on its last legs, and that garlic parmesan from dinner wasn't helping much. you were scrapping extra hard, making sure there wasn't a crumb left behind.

you finished the dishes with a relieved sigh, drying up your hands on the towel by the sink before you dimmed the amber lights of the kitchen.

after, you grabbed a few matches from the little drawer near the fridge along with a stick of your favorite incense. your steps padded softly towards the dining table. the freshly mopped floors felt cool against your feet.

you set the little stick on the holder and lit it up, quickly blowing on it so the smoke could fill the apartment with its scent. taking a slow exhale, you paused to appreciate the quietness.

jason had left for patrol a little while ago, or so you thought, and you settled into that soft solitude that crept in when he wasn't around. it was nice not to have a two-hundred-pound guy taking up half the space. for the most part.

you decided to head to the living room to clean up the mess from the board games you two played earlier. you’d rather get it done sooner than later, knowing you wouldn't want to get up and clean after getting into bed.

then suddenly, his voice broke the quiet.

“did i do something wrong?”

“sweet baby jesus!” you gasped, hand flying to your chest, your breath heavy as you looked at him through wide eyes.

“what is wrong with you?" you asked, trying to calm your racing heart. he looked kind of intimidating, just a shadow in the corner, barely lit, but you recognized that little pout of his from a mile away. “what do you want, jace?”

“you didn’t say goodbye,” he said, stepping into the light, his frown small but there. he was just standing by the window where he usually went out for patrol, helmet held under his arm, just waiting there so still that it threw you off.

“what are you talking about? i said bye,” you replied, finally letting your hand drop from your chest and mussing your hair.

“nuh uh.”

you lifted your gaze to him, a frown tugging at your eyebrows. “oh yes huh,” you shot back.

“nuh uh.”

“yes huh!”

“nuh uh!” he exclaimed, raising his voice, his fingers clenching into a fist.

you raised an eyebrow, your hand resting on your hip. “is that an attitude i hear?” you asked, taking slow steps towards him. you noticed how his jaw was all tight and his eyes were full of uncertainty.

you watched him bite his lip, words struggling to form. his hands curled into fists, relaxed, then curled again until his helmet slipped from under his arm and clattered onto the floor.

“jason?”

he stared at the wall behind you before mumbling, “you didn’t kiss me goodbye.”

you blinked at him. “excuse me?” that seemed to flip a switch in him. he turned to you, looking worried.

“are you mad at me? what did i do?” he whispered, his hand reaching out to rest on your waist, his fingers curling around it perfectly.

you sighed, your hands momentarily covering your cheeks. you couldn't believe he was serious. “you think I’m mad... because i didn’t give you a goodbye kiss?” you asked slowly, wondering if he was just teasing.

he nodded, his bottom lip poking out a bit as he squeezed your waist for comfort. you rolled your eyes and smacked his hand away.

“you are mad!” he accused.

“am not!” you huffed, “you’re just being silly, and now you’ve lost patrol time!”

“okay, but what if i get hurt without my good luck kiss?” he countered, placing his hand back on your waist while snaking the other around you, completely capturing you against his muscles.

“you are ridiculous,” you muttered under your breath, looking up into his expectant yet pleading eyes. “if i kiss you, will you go?”

he nodded eagerly.

“ugh, fine, but only because i want you to leave,” you said, leaning in for a quick peck on his lips. but that plan went awry as he leaned in for another kiss... and another... and another.

“jason, goddammit, jason!” you said, struggling to squirm away from his grip. his stubble was scratching against your skin, and you could already see your skin breaking out the next morning.

he kept launching his little smooch attack until you felt like a total glob in his arms. your expression blank as his lips planted kisses everywhere, from your chin to your hairline.

after one last big smooch and a loud “mwah,” he finally released you, flashing a toothy grin while you shot him your best annoyed look.

“you leaving now?” you mumbled, glancing at him as he nodded, turning back to the window, gripping the edge, and wiggling a bit before jumping out.

you sighed at the absurdity of it all. “you forgot your helmet!” you said, crouching down to grab the red thing and tossing it out the window. “fucking loser,” you muttered.

“hey!” you heard him yell from outside, but you weren’t sure if he was offended about his helmet getting tossed or if it was because you called him a loser... which he was.

after a few seconds, you took a deep breath in and let it out. finally, he was gone.

you turned around and got back into your rhythm, bending down to pick up the dice and all the scattered uno cards left on the coffee table. you even found one tucked under the couch...where jason conveniently sat before he somehow won. suspicious.

you carefully stacked all the cards into a neat little deck, using one of your hair ties to keep them together before putting them on the bottom shelf and moving on to the dice, placing them inside a wine glass that decorated the tabletop.

with a grunt, you got back up and put your hands on your hips, glancing around the apartment. it was a bit messy, but good enough for you. plus, it was late, and your phone was probably getting paranoid about how long you’d been away from it.

you wandered into your shared bedroom and collapsed onto the bed that sat in the middle of the room.

his cologne still clung to the sheets from when he'd gotten dressed, and you couldn't help but wrap yourself up in a burrito while you dug for your phone beneath the pillows.

"five minutes," that's what you told yourself. just five minutes on social media before you went to sleep. but then five turned into ten, ten into thirty, and before you knew it, you heard the sound of jason climbing back through the bedroom window.

the sound of his kevlar suit echoed as he moved closer to the bed. you heard the soft hiss as he took off the helmet and felt the way the mattress sunk as he placed it near your feet.

you waited for him to climb in, one minute, two minutes... two and a half. until you turned around, looking at him over your shoulder

“dude, are you getting in?” you asked, eyeing him up and down to make sure he wasn’t hurt before you started to scold him. he looked fine, a few scratches here and there, but overall, he was okay. good.

he didn’t say anything, though, and you rolled your eyes. his gaze was locked on you, and he couldn’t help but notice how the blue light from your phone made your eyes shine and defined the slope of your nose.

“i’m not dealing with another one of your tantrums,” you muttered under your breath as you turned back to your mukbangs of the most beautiful desserts in LA.

another half a minute went by, and you grunted as you glanced back at him. you knew what he wanted, of course, but c’mon! he was getting way too spoiled lately. too bratty. you couldn’t just give in to everything.

“if i do it, will you stop staring at me? it’s kind of creepy,” you said as you struggled to untangle yourself from the blankets before sitting up to face him. he just nodded.

“ugh, fine,” you muttered, scooting over and starting to ruffle the sheets on his side of the bed. “c’mon, c'mere handsome,” you cooed, using that soft voice you usually reserved for stray cats in crime alley, but somehow he got to be the exception.

he immediately started yanking off his heavy boots, tossing them who knows where, and then leaped on top of you.

“for fuck’s sake, jason! how many times do i have to tell you—” you were cut off when his lips began to wander over yours and then down to your chin.

“i missed you over there,” he whispered, his hands wrapping around your waist as he rolled onto his back, pulling you with him.

“yeah, well, i didn’t,” you mumbled.

“oh yeah? then why are you all cuddled up in these blankets like that?” he shot back with that lazy grin, his face getting way too close to yours. you hated how much you loved those little dimples of his. “is it because i sprayed my cologne?”

“shut up.”

[ferbaby]

spoiled rotten

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ pairing — jason todd x fem!reader

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ sypnosis — in which jason has gotten used to your affection aka he's spoiled

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ tags — fluff, domesticity, slice of life, puppy jason?, kinda based off my last fic, ooc jason, mild language, reader loves him... even if she denies it, strict reader back at it

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ wc — 1.6k

author's note — thank you guys for all the support my last fic got! i love u guys so much sooo i had this one in my drafts and it's all yours

you were just humming in the kitchen, washing up the big ol’ pile of dishes in the sink. jason wanted to help, but you said no, really because he wasn't super great at it, but hey, you liked that he put in the effort.

your pyjamas were all soft and snug on your skin, thanks to jason throwing them in the dryer before you changed. but you had this sneaky feeling he picked out the tiniest ones on purpose.

the wooden scrubber in your hand was on its last legs, and that garlic parmesan from dinner wasn't helping much. you were scrapping extra hard, making sure there wasn't a crumb left behind.

you finished the dishes with a relieved sigh, drying up your hands on the towel by the sink before you dimmed the amber lights of the kitchen.

after, you grabbed a few matches from the little drawer near the fridge along with a stick of your favorite incense. your steps padded softly towards the dining table. the freshly mopped floors felt cool against your feet.

you set the little stick on the holder and lit it up, quickly blowing on it so the smoke could fill the apartment with its scent. taking a slow exhale, you paused to appreciate the quietness.

jason had left for patrol a little while ago, or so you thought, and you settled into that soft solitude that crept in when he wasn't around. it was nice not to have a two-hundred-pound guy taking up half the space. for the most part.

you decided to head to the living room to clean up the mess from the board games you two played earlier. you’d rather get it done sooner than later, knowing you wouldn't want to get up and clean after getting into bed.

then suddenly, his voice broke the quiet.

“did i do something wrong?”

“sweet baby jesus!” you gasped, hand flying to your chest, your breath heavy as you looked at him through wide eyes.

“what is wrong with you?" you asked, trying to calm your racing heart. he looked kind of intimidating, just a shadow in the corner, barely lit, but you recognized that little pout of his from a mile away. “what do you want, jace?”

“you didn’t say goodbye,” he said, stepping into the light, his frown small but there. he was just standing by the window where he usually went out for patrol, helmet held under his arm, just waiting there so still that it threw you off.

“what are you talking about? i said bye,” you replied, finally letting your hand drop from your chest and mussing your hair.

“nuh uh.”

you lifted your gaze to him, a frown tugging at your eyebrows. “oh yes huh,” you shot back.

“nuh uh.”

“yes huh!”

“nuh uh!” he exclaimed, raising his voice, his fingers clenching into a fist.

you raised an eyebrow, your hand resting on your hip. “is that an attitude i hear?” you asked, taking slow steps towards him. you noticed how his jaw was all tight and his eyes were full of uncertainty.

you watched him bite his lip, words struggling to form. his hands curled into fists, relaxed, then curled again until his helmet slipped from under his arm and clattered onto the floor.

“jason?”

he stared at the wall behind you before mumbling, “you didn’t kiss me goodbye.”

you blinked at him. “excuse me?” that seemed to flip a switch in him. he turned to you, looking worried.

“are you mad at me? what did i do?” he whispered, his hand reaching out to rest on your waist, his fingers curling around it perfectly.

you sighed, your hands momentarily covering your cheeks. you couldn't believe he was serious. “you think I’m mad... because i didn’t give you a goodbye kiss?” you asked slowly, wondering if he was just teasing.

he nodded, his bottom lip poking out a bit as he squeezed your waist for comfort. you rolled your eyes and smacked his hand away.

“you are mad!” he accused.

“am not!” you huffed, “you’re just being silly, and now you’ve lost patrol time!”

“okay, but what if i get hurt without my good luck kiss?” he countered, placing his hand back on your waist while snaking the other around you, completely capturing you against his muscles.

“you are ridiculous,” you muttered under your breath, looking up into his expectant yet pleading eyes. “if i kiss you, will you go?”

he nodded eagerly.

“ugh, fine, but only because i want you to leave,” you said, leaning in for a quick peck on his lips. but that plan went awry as he leaned in for another kiss... and another... and another.

“jason, goddammit, jason!” you said, struggling to squirm away from his grip. his stubble was scratching against your skin, and you could already see your skin breaking out the next morning.

he kept launching his little smooch attack until you felt like a total glob in his arms. your expression blank as his lips planted kisses everywhere, from your chin to your hairline.

after one last big smooch and a loud “mwah,” he finally released you, flashing a toothy grin while you shot him your best annoyed look.

“you leaving now?” you mumbled, glancing at him as he nodded, turning back to the window, gripping the edge, and wiggling a bit before jumping out.

you sighed at the absurdity of it all. “you forgot your helmet!” you said, crouching down to grab the red thing and tossing it out the window. “fucking loser,” you muttered.

“hey!” you heard him yell from outside, but you weren’t sure if he was offended about his helmet getting tossed or if it was because you called him a loser... which he was.

after a few seconds, you took a deep breath in and let it out. finally, he was gone.

you turned around and got back into your rhythm, bending down to pick up the dice and all the scattered uno cards left on the coffee table. you even found one tucked under the couch...where jason conveniently sat before he somehow won. suspicious.

you carefully stacked all the cards into a neat little deck, using one of your hair ties to keep them together before putting them on the bottom shelf and moving on to the dice, placing them inside a wine glass that decorated the tabletop.

with a grunt, you got back up and put your hands on your hips, glancing around the apartment. it was a bit messy, but good enough for you. plus, it was late, and your phone was probably getting paranoid about how long you’d been away from it.

you wandered into your shared bedroom and collapsed onto the bed that sat in the middle of the room.

his cologne still clung to the sheets from when he'd gotten dressed, and you couldn't help but wrap yourself up in a burrito while you dug for your phone beneath the pillows.

"five minutes," that's what you told yourself. just five minutes on social media before you went to sleep. but then five turned into ten, ten into thirty, and before you knew it, you heard the sound of jason climbing back through the bedroom window.

the sound of his kevlar suit echoed as he moved closer to the bed. you heard the soft hiss as he took off the helmet and felt the way the mattress sunk as he placed it near your feet.

you waited for him to climb in, one minute, two minutes... two and a half. until you turned around, looking at him over your shoulder

“dude, are you getting in?” you asked, eyeing him up and down to make sure he wasn’t hurt before you started to scold him. he looked fine, a few scratches here and there, but overall, he was okay. good.

he didn’t say anything, though, and you rolled your eyes. his gaze was locked on you, and he couldn’t help but notice how the blue light from your phone made your eyes shine and defined the slope of your nose.

“i’m not dealing with another one of your tantrums,” you muttered under your breath as you turned back to your mukbangs of the most beautiful desserts in LA.

another half a minute went by, and you grunted as you glanced back at him. you knew what he wanted, of course, but c’mon! he was getting way too spoiled lately. too bratty. you couldn’t just give in to everything.

“if i do it, will you stop staring at me? it’s kind of creepy,” you said as you struggled to untangle yourself from the blankets before sitting up to face him. he just nodded.

“ugh, fine,” you muttered, scooting over and starting to ruffle the sheets on his side of the bed. “c’mon, c'mere handsome,” you cooed, using that soft voice you usually reserved for stray cats in crime alley, but somehow he got to be the exception.

he immediately started yanking off his heavy boots, tossing them who knows where, and then leaped on top of you.

“for fuck’s sake, jason! how many times do i have to tell you—” you were cut off when his lips began to wander over yours and then down to your chin.

“i missed you over there,” he whispered, his hands wrapping around your waist as he rolled onto his back, pulling you with him.

“yeah, well, i didn’t,” you mumbled.

“oh yeah? then why are you all cuddled up in these blankets like that?” he shot back with that lazy grin, his face getting way too close to yours. you hated how much you loved those little dimples of his. “is it because i sprayed my cologne?”

“shut up.”

[ferbaby]

spoiled rotten

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ pairing — jason todd x fem!reader

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ sypnosis — in which jason has gotten used to your affection aka he's spoiled

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ tags — fluff, domesticity, slice of life, puppy jason?, kinda based off my last fic, ooc jason, mild language, reader loves him... even if she denies it, strict reader back at it

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ wc — 1.6k

author's note — thank you guys for all the support my last fic got! i love u guys so much sooo i had this one in my drafts and it's all yours

you were just humming in the kitchen, washing up the big ol’ pile of dishes in the sink. jason wanted to help, but you said no, really because he wasn't super great at it, but hey, you liked that he put in the effort.

your pyjamas were all soft and snug on your skin, thanks to jason throwing them in the dryer before you changed. but you had this sneaky feeling he picked out the tiniest ones on purpose.

the wooden scrubber in your hand was on its last legs, and that garlic parmesan from dinner wasn't helping much. you were scrapping extra hard, making sure there wasn't a crumb left behind.

you finished the dishes with a relieved sigh, drying up your hands on the towel by the sink before you dimmed the amber lights of the kitchen.

after, you grabbed a few matches from the little drawer near the fridge along with a stick of your favorite incense. your steps padded softly towards the dining table. the freshly mopped floors felt cool against your feet.

you set the little stick on the holder and lit it up, quickly blowing on it so the smoke could fill the apartment with its scent. taking a slow exhale, you paused to appreciate the quietness.

jason had left for patrol a little while ago, or so you thought, and you settled into that soft solitude that crept in when he wasn't around. it was nice not to have a two-hundred-pound guy taking up half the space. for the most part.

you decided to head to the living room to clean up the mess from the board games you two played earlier. you’d rather get it done sooner than later, knowing you wouldn't want to get up and clean after getting into bed.

then suddenly, his voice broke the quiet.

“did i do something wrong?”

“sweet baby jesus!” you gasped, hand flying to your chest, your breath heavy as you looked at him through wide eyes.

“what is wrong with you?" you asked, trying to calm your racing heart. he looked kind of intimidating, just a shadow in the corner, barely lit, but you recognized that little pout of his from a mile away. “what do you want, jace?”

“you didn’t say goodbye,” he said, stepping into the light, his frown small but there. he was just standing by the window where he usually went out for patrol, helmet held under his arm, just waiting there so still that it threw you off.

“what are you talking about? i said bye,” you replied, finally letting your hand drop from your chest and mussing your hair.

“nuh uh.”

you lifted your gaze to him, a frown tugging at your eyebrows. “oh yes huh,” you shot back.

“nuh uh.”

“yes huh!”

“nuh uh!” he exclaimed, raising his voice, his fingers clenching into a fist.

you raised an eyebrow, your hand resting on your hip. “is that an attitude i hear?” you asked, taking slow steps towards him. you noticed how his jaw was all tight and his eyes were full of uncertainty.

you watched him bite his lip, words struggling to form. his hands curled into fists, relaxed, then curled again until his helmet slipped from under his arm and clattered onto the floor.

“jason?”

he stared at the wall behind you before mumbling, “you didn’t kiss me goodbye.”

you blinked at him. “excuse me?” that seemed to flip a switch in him. he turned to you, looking worried.

“are you mad at me? what did i do?” he whispered, his hand reaching out to rest on your waist, his fingers curling around it perfectly.

you sighed, your hands momentarily covering your cheeks. you couldn't believe he was serious. “you think I’m mad... because i didn’t give you a goodbye kiss?” you asked slowly, wondering if he was just teasing.

he nodded, his bottom lip poking out a bit as he squeezed your waist for comfort. you rolled your eyes and smacked his hand away.

“you are mad!” he accused.

“am not!” you huffed, “you’re just being silly, and now you’ve lost patrol time!”

“okay, but what if i get hurt without my good luck kiss?” he countered, placing his hand back on your waist while snaking the other around you, completely capturing you against his muscles.

“you are ridiculous,” you muttered under your breath, looking up into his expectant yet pleading eyes. “if i kiss you, will you go?”

he nodded eagerly.

“ugh, fine, but only because i want you to leave,” you said, leaning in for a quick peck on his lips. but that plan went awry as he leaned in for another kiss... and another... and another.

“jason, goddammit, jason!” you said, struggling to squirm away from his grip. his stubble was scratching against your skin, and you could already see your skin breaking out the next morning.

he kept launching his little smooch attack until you felt like a total glob in his arms. your expression blank as his lips planted kisses everywhere, from your chin to your hairline.

after one last big smooch and a loud “mwah,” he finally released you, flashing a toothy grin while you shot him your best annoyed look.

“you leaving now?” you mumbled, glancing at him as he nodded, turning back to the window, gripping the edge, and wiggling a bit before jumping out.

you sighed at the absurdity of it all. “you forgot your helmet!” you said, crouching down to grab the red thing and tossing it out the window. “fucking loser,” you muttered.

“hey!” you heard him yell from outside, but you weren’t sure if he was offended about his helmet getting tossed or if it was because you called him a loser... which he was.

after a few seconds, you took a deep breath in and let it out. finally, he was gone.

you turned around and got back into your rhythm, bending down to pick up the dice and all the scattered uno cards left on the coffee table. you even found one tucked under the couch...where jason conveniently sat before he somehow won. suspicious.

you carefully stacked all the cards into a neat little deck, using one of your hair ties to keep them together before putting them on the bottom shelf and moving on to the dice, placing them inside a wine glass that decorated the tabletop.

with a grunt, you got back up and put your hands on your hips, glancing around the apartment. it was a bit messy, but good enough for you. plus, it was late, and your phone was probably getting paranoid about how long you’d been away from it.

you wandered into your shared bedroom and collapsed onto the bed that sat in the middle of the room.

his cologne still clung to the sheets from when he'd gotten dressed, and you couldn't help but wrap yourself up in a burrito while you dug for your phone beneath the pillows.

"five minutes," that's what you told yourself. just five minutes on social media before you went to sleep. but then five turned into ten, ten into thirty, and before you knew it, you heard the sound of jason climbing back through the bedroom window.

the sound of his kevlar suit echoed as he moved closer to the bed. you heard the soft hiss as he took off the helmet and felt the way the mattress sunk as he placed it near your feet.

you waited for him to climb in, one minute, two minutes... two and a half. until you turned around, looking at him over your shoulder

“dude, are you getting in?” you asked, eyeing him up and down to make sure he wasn’t hurt before you started to scold him. he looked fine, a few scratches here and there, but overall, he was okay. good.

he didn’t say anything, though, and you rolled your eyes. his gaze was locked on you, and he couldn’t help but notice how the blue light from your phone made your eyes shine and defined the slope of your nose.

“i’m not dealing with another one of your tantrums,” you muttered under your breath as you turned back to your mukbangs of the most beautiful desserts in LA.

another half a minute went by, and you grunted as you glanced back at him. you knew what he wanted, of course, but c’mon! he was getting way too spoiled lately. too bratty. you couldn’t just give in to everything.

“if i do it, will you stop staring at me? it’s kind of creepy,” you said as you struggled to untangle yourself from the blankets before sitting up to face him. he just nodded.

“ugh, fine,” you muttered, scooting over and starting to ruffle the sheets on his side of the bed. “c’mon, c'mere handsome,” you cooed, using that soft voice you usually reserved for stray cats in crime alley, but somehow he got to be the exception.

he immediately started yanking off his heavy boots, tossing them who knows where, and then leaped on top of you.

“for fuck’s sake, jason! how many times do i have to tell you—” you were cut off when his lips began to wander over yours and then down to your chin.

“i missed you over there,” he whispered, his hands wrapping around your waist as he rolled onto his back, pulling you with him.

“yeah, well, i didn’t,” you mumbled.

“oh yeah? then why are you all cuddled up in these blankets like that?” he shot back with that lazy grin, his face getting way too close to yours. you hated how much you loved those little dimples of his. “is it because i sprayed my cologne?”

“shut up.”

[ferbaby]

spoiled rotten

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ pairing — jason todd x fem!reader

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ sypnosis — in which jason has gotten used to your affection aka he's spoiled

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ tags — fluff, domesticity, slice of life, puppy jason?, kinda based off my last fic, ooc jason, mild language, reader loves him... even if she denies it, strict reader back at it

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ wc — 1.6k

author's note — thank you guys for all the support my last fic got! i love u guys so much sooo i had this one in my drafts and it's all yours

you were just humming in the kitchen, washing up the big ol’ pile of dishes in the sink. jason wanted to help, but you said no, really because he wasn't super great at it, but hey, you liked that he put in the effort.

your pyjamas were all soft and snug on your skin, thanks to jason throwing them in the dryer before you changed. but you had this sneaky feeling he picked out the tiniest ones on purpose.

the wooden scrubber in your hand was on its last legs, and that garlic parmesan from dinner wasn't helping much. you were scrapping extra hard, making sure there wasn't a crumb left behind.

you finished the dishes with a relieved sigh, drying up your hands on the towel by the sink before you dimmed the amber lights of the kitchen.

after, you grabbed a few matches from the little drawer near the fridge along with a stick of your favorite incense. your steps padded softly towards the dining table. the freshly mopped floors felt cool against your feet.

you set the little stick on the holder and lit it up, quickly blowing on it so the smoke could fill the apartment with its scent. taking a slow exhale, you paused to appreciate the quietness.

jason had left for patrol a little while ago, or so you thought, and you settled into that soft solitude that crept in when he wasn't around. it was nice not to have a two-hundred-pound guy taking up half the space. for the most part.

you decided to head to the living room to clean up the mess from the board games you two played earlier. you’d rather get it done sooner than later, knowing you wouldn't want to get up and clean after getting into bed.

then suddenly, his voice broke the quiet.

“did i do something wrong?”

“sweet baby jesus!” you gasped, hand flying to your chest, your breath heavy as you looked at him through wide eyes.

“what is wrong with you?" you asked, trying to calm your racing heart. he looked kind of intimidating, just a shadow in the corner, barely lit, but you recognized that little pout of his from a mile away. “what do you want, jace?”

“you didn’t say goodbye,” he said, stepping into the light, his frown small but there. he was just standing by the window where he usually went out for patrol, helmet held under his arm, just waiting there so still that it threw you off.

“what are you talking about? i said bye,” you replied, finally letting your hand drop from your chest and mussing your hair.

“nuh uh.”

you lifted your gaze to him, a frown tugging at your eyebrows. “oh yes huh,” you shot back.

“nuh uh.”

“yes huh!”

“nuh uh!” he exclaimed, raising his voice, his fingers clenching into a fist.

you raised an eyebrow, your hand resting on your hip. “is that an attitude i hear?” you asked, taking slow steps towards him. you noticed how his jaw was all tight and his eyes were full of uncertainty.

you watched him bite his lip, words struggling to form. his hands curled into fists, relaxed, then curled again until his helmet slipped from under his arm and clattered onto the floor.

“jason?”

he stared at the wall behind you before mumbling, “you didn’t kiss me goodbye.”

you blinked at him. “excuse me?” that seemed to flip a switch in him. he turned to you, looking worried.

“are you mad at me? what did i do?” he whispered, his hand reaching out to rest on your waist, his fingers curling around it perfectly.

you sighed, your hands momentarily covering your cheeks. you couldn't believe he was serious. “you think I’m mad... because i didn’t give you a goodbye kiss?” you asked slowly, wondering if he was just teasing.

he nodded, his bottom lip poking out a bit as he squeezed your waist for comfort. you rolled your eyes and smacked his hand away.

“you are mad!” he accused.

“am not!” you huffed, “you’re just being silly, and now you’ve lost patrol time!”

“okay, but what if i get hurt without my good luck kiss?” he countered, placing his hand back on your waist while snaking the other around you, completely capturing you against his muscles.

“you are ridiculous,” you muttered under your breath, looking up into his expectant yet pleading eyes. “if i kiss you, will you go?”

he nodded eagerly.

“ugh, fine, but only because i want you to leave,” you said, leaning in for a quick peck on his lips. but that plan went awry as he leaned in for another kiss... and another... and another.

“jason, goddammit, jason!” you said, struggling to squirm away from his grip. his stubble was scratching against your skin, and you could already see your skin breaking out the next morning.

he kept launching his little smooch attack until you felt like a total glob in his arms. your expression blank as his lips planted kisses everywhere, from your chin to your hairline.

after one last big smooch and a loud “mwah,” he finally released you, flashing a toothy grin while you shot him your best annoyed look.

“you leaving now?” you mumbled, glancing at him as he nodded, turning back to the window, gripping the edge, and wiggling a bit before jumping out.

you sighed at the absurdity of it all. “you forgot your helmet!” you said, crouching down to grab the red thing and tossing it out the window. “fucking loser,” you muttered.

“hey!” you heard him yell from outside, but you weren’t sure if he was offended about his helmet getting tossed or if it was because you called him a loser... which he was.

after a few seconds, you took a deep breath in and let it out. finally, he was gone.

you turned around and got back into your rhythm, bending down to pick up the dice and all the scattered uno cards left on the coffee table. you even found one tucked under the couch...where jason conveniently sat before he somehow won. suspicious.

you carefully stacked all the cards into a neat little deck, using one of your hair ties to keep them together before putting them on the bottom shelf and moving on to the dice, placing them inside a wine glass that decorated the tabletop.

with a grunt, you got back up and put your hands on your hips, glancing around the apartment. it was a bit messy, but good enough for you. plus, it was late, and your phone was probably getting paranoid about how long you’d been away from it.

you wandered into your shared bedroom and collapsed onto the bed that sat in the middle of the room.

his cologne still clung to the sheets from when he'd gotten dressed, and you couldn't help but wrap yourself up in a burrito while you dug for your phone beneath the pillows.

"five minutes," that's what you told yourself. just five minutes on social media before you went to sleep. but then five turned into ten, ten into thirty, and before you knew it, you heard the sound of jason climbing back through the bedroom window.

the sound of his kevlar suit echoed as he moved closer to the bed. you heard the soft hiss as he took off the helmet and felt the way the mattress sunk as he placed it near your feet.

you waited for him to climb in, one minute, two minutes... two and a half. until you turned around, looking at him over your shoulder

“dude, are you getting in?” you asked, eyeing him up and down to make sure he wasn’t hurt before you started to scold him. he looked fine, a few scratches here and there, but overall, he was okay. good.

he didn’t say anything, though, and you rolled your eyes. his gaze was locked on you, and he couldn’t help but notice how the blue light from your phone made your eyes shine and defined the slope of your nose.

“i’m not dealing with another one of your tantrums,” you muttered under your breath as you turned back to your mukbangs of the most beautiful desserts in LA.

another half a minute went by, and you grunted as you glanced back at him. you knew what he wanted, of course, but c’mon! he was getting way too spoiled lately. too bratty. you couldn’t just give in to everything.

“if i do it, will you stop staring at me? it’s kind of creepy,” you said as you struggled to untangle yourself from the blankets before sitting up to face him. he just nodded.

“ugh, fine,” you muttered, scooting over and starting to ruffle the sheets on his side of the bed. “c’mon, c'mere handsome,” you cooed, using that soft voice you usually reserved for stray cats in crime alley, but somehow he got to be the exception.

he immediately started yanking off his heavy boots, tossing them who knows where, and then leaped on top of you.

“for fuck’s sake, jason! how many times do i have to tell you—” you were cut off when his lips began to wander over yours and then down to your chin.

“i missed you over there,” he whispered, his hands wrapping around your waist as he rolled onto his back, pulling you with him.

“yeah, well, i didn’t,” you mumbled.

“oh yeah? then why are you all cuddled up in these blankets like that?” he shot back with that lazy grin, his face getting way too close to yours. you hated how much you loved those little dimples of his. “is it because i sprayed my cologne?”

“shut up.”

[ghxstrobins]

Heat Wave

Summary - During one of the worst heatwaves in Gotham’s history your boyfriend decides to turn his clinginess up to a thousand

Pairing - Jason Todd x Reader

“Come on baby-” Jason tries to argue with you as you inch away from him on your couch.

“No! It’s too hot.” You stay firm in your resolve as you push at his arms that you usually love wrapped around you.

Most people wouldn’t believe you if you told them that Jason Todd, the Red Hood, was clingy. They would probably scoff at that or just give you a small placating smile.

But it’s true!

And usually you love that. His body touching yours makes you feel like two pieces of a whole clicking together. He also runs hot in the winter which is a plus since your apartment can get cold in the winter but when summer rolls around it’s a completely different story.

“You are depriving me of love.” He crosses his arms.

You groan into your book as you put it on your face, “Can’t I love you from over here?”

You hear him shift closer and his hand slowly takes the book off of your face so you can see him. He has a slight grin to his lips as he looks down at your scowl.

“Just a twenty minutes than I will be all good to go.” He lies to you like the liar he is.

You know that twenty minutes will turn into three hours because for some reason when he cuddles up to you, your body decides it is the perfect time to nap. You know that you are going to wake up covered in your boyfriend and sweat but looking down at him you sigh dramatically.

“Fine!” You open your arms and he slots himself between them like he was made for it. “But only twenty minutes Jason.”

“Of course baby.”

Four hours later you wake up to the soft evening light and Jason snoring softly on your chest. But you can’t bring yourself to be angry at him so you run your hands through his hair and settle in for more sleep.

Only Jason Todd would cuddle you during a heat wave.

Blue’s Notes - Greetings from in front of my fan lol, a bad heat wave has been making my life hell for the past day and a half so have a little drabble based off of my suffering!

[jellyfishsthings]

Hi lovely! If you’re still taking requests I was wondering if you could do angst/ comfort where reader doesn’t know Jason is red hood and he keeps missing important events, reader confronts him which leads to a fight so reader stops including him in outings, night outs, work events, etc thinking he’s just not interested.

When he realizes he grovels and confesses? I would eat that up ❤️❤️❤️

The Space You Left

navigation , dc navigation

requests are open

dividers by @cafekitsune

The first time Jason missed something important, you told yourself it was just bad luck.

Your company's awards dinner—the one where you were receiving recognition for the project you'd spent eighteen months leading—fell on a Friday night. Jason had promised he'd be there, had even helped you pick out your dress the week before, spinning you around your apartment and telling you that you'd be the most beautiful person in the room.

"I'm so proud of you," he'd said, kissing your forehead. "I can't wait to watch you accept that award."

But when the night came, his seat beside you remained empty.

You checked your phone obsessively between courses. No calls. No texts. Just silence where his support should have been.

You accepted your award with a smile that felt like it might crack your face, thanked your team, and tried not to notice the pitying looks from your coworkers who'd heard you mention your boyfriend would be there.

Jason showed up at your apartment at 2 AM, bruised knuckles and a cut above his eyebrow that he brushed off as "a stupid accident at the gym."

"I'm so sorry," he'd said, pulling you into his arms. "There was an emergency at work. I tried to get out of it, I swear, but my boss—"

You'd accepted the apology because you loved him. Because accidents happened. Because he looked so genuinely devastated that you couldn't stay angry.

The second time, you told yourself it was coincidence.

Your best friend's wedding. You'd been talking about it for months, had your dress picked out, had confirmed with Jason at least five times that he'd be your plus-one.

"I promise," he'd said the night before. "I'll be there. Wouldn't miss it."

But when you waited outside your building in your bridesmaid dress, makeup perfect and hope still intact, he never showed.

You went alone. Smiled through questions about where your boyfriend was. Made excuses about work emergencies and unavoidable conflicts. Caught the bouquet and felt nothing but hollow.

Jason had shown up the next morning with flowers and apologies, another cut on his face, moving stiffly like his ribs hurt.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry," he'd repeated, and you'd wanted to scream at him but he looked so broken that you'd just cried instead.

By the third time—your mother's birthday dinner, the one where you were finally introducing him to your family—you'd stopped telling yourself anything at all.

You'd just started recognizing a pattern.

The fight happened on a Tuesday night, after Jason missed your work anniversary celebration.

Three years at your company. Your boss had taken the team out to celebrate, had specifically asked you to bring your boyfriend because he'd "heard so much about him."

Jason had promised. Had sworn up and down that he'd be there. Had even set three separate alarms on his phone while you watched.

You'd waited at the restaurant for forty-five minutes, making increasingly desperate excuses, before finally admitting he wasn't coming.

When Jason showed up at your apartment that night—late again, another bruise blooming on his jaw—you didn't let him in.

"We need to talk," you said, blocking the doorway.

"I know. I'm sorry. There was—"

"An emergency at work," you finished flatly. "Right. There's always an emergency at work."

"It's not like that—"

"Then what is it like, Jason?" Your voice cracked. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you just don't care. About me. About my life. About anything that doesn't involve whatever mysterious job you have that always seems to require you at the exact moment I need you."

"That's not fair—"

"Fair?" You laughed, and it came out bitter. "You want to talk about fair? I've sat alone at four major events in the last six months. Four, Jason. My awards dinner, my best friend's wedding, my mom's birthday, and now this. Do you know how humiliating it is to constantly make excuses for you? To watch people's faces when I tell them my boyfriend couldn't make it again?"

"I know, and I'm sorry, but if you'd just let me explain—"

"Explain what? That your job is more important than me? I already figured that out."

Jason's face went hard. "My job is complicated—"

"Then uncomplicate it! Get a different job! Do something that doesn't require you to disappear at random intervals with no explanation!"

"I can't just—it's not that simple—"

"Why not?" You were crying now, angry tears that you couldn't stop. "Why can't you just be honest with me? Tell me what's so important that you can't even send a text to say you're not coming. Tell me why you keep showing up with bruises and cuts that you brush off with obvious lies. Tell me why I feel like I'm in a relationship with a ghost!"

"I'm trying to protect you—"

"From what?!" You shouted. "From your job? From the truth? Or from having to actually commit to this relationship?"

Jason flinched. "That's not—I'm committed. I love you—"

"Do you? Because it doesn't feel like it. It feels like I'm an afterthought. Something you fit in when it's convenient. When there's no 'work emergency' pulling you away."

"You know that's not true—"

"Do I?" You wiped at your eyes. "Because all I know is what you show me, Jason. And what you show me is that I'm not a priority. That whatever you're doing is more important than being there for me."

"It's not about importance—"

"Then what is it about? Because I'm tired of guessing. I'm tired of making excuses. I'm tired of feeling like I'm in this relationship alone."

Jason reached for you, but you stepped back.

"Don't. Just—don't." You took a shaky breath. "I can't keep doing this. Waiting for you to show up. Hoping that this time will be different. I deserve better than this."

"You do," Jason said quietly. "You deserve so much better than this. Than me."

"That's not—" You stopped. "You know what? Maybe you're right. Maybe I do."

You closed the door in his face and pretended you couldn't hear him standing outside for the next twenty minutes before finally leaving.

After the fight, you stopped inviting Jason to things.

It started small. Your coworker's happy hour on Friday—you just didn't mention it. The gallery opening your friend invited you to—you went alone. Your company's quarterly dinner—you told them your boyfriend couldn't make it and didn't bother asking.

Jason noticed.

"Hey, didn't your team have that thing tonight?" He asked one Thursday when he showed up at your apartment.

"Yeah. It was fine."

"Why didn't you tell me about it?"

You looked at him over your laptop. "I didn't think you'd be able to make it."

"You didn't even ask."

"Would you have come?"

The silence was answer enough.

Jason's jaw clenched. "That's not fair. You can't just assume—"

"I'm not assuming anything. I'm just saving us both the disappointment." You turned back to your screen. "Besides, you were probably busy with work anyway."

"I would have tried—"

"Jason." You closed your laptop. "It's fine. Really. I'm not mad. I just... I've adjusted my expectations."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I've stopped expecting you to be there. It's easier this way."

You could see the words hit him, watched his expression crack before he carefully put it back together.

"I don't want you to stop expecting things from me," he said quietly.

"Then maybe you should have shown up," you replied, and opened your laptop again.

Your birthday was the breaking point.

You didn't tell Jason about the party your friends were throwing. Didn't mention the dinner reservation. Didn't say anything when he asked what you wanted to do to celebrate.

"Nothing special," you'd said. "Just a quiet night in."

"Are you sure? We could go out, do something nice—"

"I'm sure. I'm pretty tired lately anyway."

It wasn't a lie. You were tired. Tired of hoping. Tired of being disappointed. Tired of feeling like you were the only one trying.

Your birthday fell on a Saturday. You went to brunch with your friends, then to the spa, then to dinner at your favorite restaurant. You laughed and drank wine and accepted gifts and tried not to think about the fact that your boyfriend wasn't there.

Tried not to think about the fact that you hadn't wanted him there.

That night, when you got home to your apartment, Jason was waiting outside your door with flowers and a small wrapped box.

"Happy birthday," he said, smiling. "I know you said you wanted a quiet night, but I thought maybe we could—"

He stopped when he saw what you were wearing. The dress. The heels. The makeup that was clearly not for a quiet night in.

"You went out," he said slowly.

"Yeah."

"You said you wanted to stay in."

"I changed my mind."

"You didn't tell me."

"You didn't ask."

Jason's hands clenched around the flowers. "Where were you?"

"Out with friends. Dinner. The usual birthday stuff."

"You didn't invite me."

"No."

"Why not?"

You looked at him—really looked at him. At the hope in his eyes, the hurt, the confusion. At the flowers he'd brought and the present he'd wrapped. At this man you loved who could never seem to show up when you needed him.

"Because I knew you wouldn't come," you said simply. "Or you'd promise to come and then cancel last minute. Or you'd show up two hours late with an excuse I'm supposed to accept without question. And I didn't want to deal with that on my birthday."

"I would have come. If you'd asked, I would have—"

"Would you?" You unlocked your door. "Because you didn't come to my awards dinner. Or my best friend's wedding. Or my work anniversary. Or any of the other dozen things I've invited you to in the last six months. So forgive me for not believing that my birthday would be any different."

"That's not fair—"

"Stop saying that!" You turned on him, suddenly angry. "Stop telling me what's fair and what's not when you're the one who keeps disappearing! When you're the one with the secrets and the bruises and the mysterious job that always takes priority!"

"I'm trying—"

"Are you? Because it doesn't feel like it. It feels like you're just... going through the motions. Showing up when it's convenient. Leaving when something better comes along."

"You're not—there's nothing better than you—"

"Then prove it!" The words came out broken. "Show up. Be present. Stop making me feel like I'm in this relationship alone!"

Jason looked at you, and you could see him struggling with something. Some secret he wanted to tell but couldn't. Some truth that was caught in his throat.

"I can't," he said finally. "I can't explain. Not yet. But I need you to trust me—"

"I'm tired of trusting you, Jason. I'm tired of waiting for you to let me in. I'm tired of feeling like I don't actually matter to you."

"You do matter. You matter more than anything—"

"Then act like it!" You were crying now. "Because right now, all I feel is alone. And if I'm going to be alone anyway, I might as well make it official."

The words hung between you, heavy and final.

"What are you saying?" Jason's voice was barely a whisper.

"I'm saying that maybe we should take a break. Figure out what we really want."

"I know what I want. I want you—"

"You want the idea of me. The convenient girlfriend who doesn't ask too many questions. Who accepts your excuses. Who waits patiently while you live your secret life." You shook your head. "But I can't be that person anymore. I won't."

"Please. Just give me a little more time—"

"Time for what? For you to miss more events? To come up with more excuses? To keep me at arm's length while you do whatever it is you're doing?" You stepped into your apartment. "I've given you six months, Jason. Six months of understanding and patience and benefit of the doubt. And I'm done."

You started to close the door, but Jason caught it.

"I love you," he said desperately. "I know I've been shit at showing it, but I love you. Please don't do this."

"I love you too," you said, and your voice broke. "But love isn't enough when you're the only one fighting for it."

This time when you closed the door, he let you.

Jason stood outside your apartment for a long time after you closed the door, the flowers wilting in his hand, the birthday present in his pocket feeling like a lead weight.

He'd fucked up. He knew he'd fucked up. But he hadn't realized how badly until tonight, seeing the look in your eyes when you told him you were done.

Done waiting. Done hoping. Done with him.

He made it three blocks before his phone rang. Dick.

"Can't talk right now," Jason said.

"You need to get to the Bowery. There's—"

"Handle it without me."

Silence. Then: "Are you okay?"

"No. But that's my problem. I'm taking the night off."

"Jason—"

He hung up and went to the only place he could think of.

Roy opened his door to find Jason standing there with wilted flowers and a devastated expression.

"She broke up with me," Jason said.

"Shit. Come in."

They sat on Roy's couch, and Jason told him everything. Every missed event. Every excuse. Every time he'd chosen Red Hood over you because it seemed more urgent, more important, more necessary.

"I thought I was protecting her," Jason said, staring at his hands. "Keeping her separate from the vigilante shit. Keeping her safe."

"By lying to her?"

"By not telling her. There's a difference."

"Is there?" Roy leaned back. "Because from where I'm sitting, you've been lying by omission for six months. And she noticed."

"I know." Jason's voice was rough. "I just—I thought if I could keep her away from this life, she'd be safer. Happier."

"Was she? Happy?"

Jason thought about your face tonight. The resignation in your eyes. The way you'd stopped expecting him to show up.

"No," he admitted. "She was miserable. Because of me."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know. She said she's done. That she can't keep waiting for me to let her in."

"Then let her in."

"It's not that simple—"

"Why not?" Roy interrupted. "You love her, right?"

"Of course I love her—"

"Then tell her the truth. All of it. The Red Hood stuff. The reason you keep disappearing. Give her the choice instead of making it for her."

"What if she can't handle it? What if knowing puts her in danger?"

"What if keeping her in the dark is what loses her?" Roy met his eyes. "Jason, you're already losing her. At least if you tell her the truth, you're losing her honestly."

Jason was quiet for a long time. Then: "What if she hates me? For lying for this long?"

"She might. But she'll hate you more if you keep lying. And at least if you tell her now, you're giving her the respect of the truth." Roy paused. "She deserves that much, don't you think?"

"Yeah." Jason stood. "She deserves a lot more than I've been giving her."

"So go give it to her."

"Not tonight. Tonight she needs space." Jason headed for the door. "But tomorrow... tomorrow I'm telling her everything."

You weren't expecting Jason to show up at your door Sunday morning.

You definitely weren't expecting him to look like he hadn't slept, or to be carrying a duffel bag, or to say "I need to tell you everything" before you'd even said hello.

"Jason—"

"Please. Just—let me talk. And then if you want me to leave, I'll leave. But I need you to hear this."

Against your better judgment, you let him in.

He sat on your couch, hands clasped between his knees, and for a long moment, he just looked at you.

"I've been lying to you," he said finally. "Not about loving you. Never about that. But about everything else. About my job. About the bruises. About why I keep missing things."

"Okay," you said carefully. "So tell me the truth."

Jason took a deep breath. Then he unzipped the duffel bag and pulled out a red helmet.

"I'm Red Hood," he said.

You stared at him. At the helmet. Back at him.

"You're... what?"

"Red Hood. The vigilante. The one who operates in Crime Alley." He set the helmet on your coffee table. "That's my job. That's why I keep disappearing. Why I have bruises. Why I can never explain where I've been."

You sat down hard. "You're a vigilante."

"Yeah."

"You fight crime. Violent crime. Dangerous crime."

"Yeah."

"And you didn't tell me because...?"

"Because I was trying to protect you. Keep you separate from that part of my life. Keep you safe." Jason's hands clenched. "But all I did was push you away. Make you feel like you didn't matter. Like you weren't important enough to let in."

"Jason—"

"Wait. Please. I need to—I need to explain." He took another breath. "Every time I missed something, it was because someone needed Red Hood. A trafficking ring that couldn't wait. A hostage situation. A tip about a weapons shipment. Things that felt urgent. Important. Life or death."

"So you chose them over me."

"I thought I was choosing both. I thought I could keep you safe by keeping you separate. But I was wrong." Jason looked at you, and there was devastation in his eyes. "I was so wrong. Because all I did was hurt you. Make you feel alone. Make you feel like you didn't matter when you're the thing that matters most."

You were quiet, processing. "How long have you been doing this?"

"Years. Since before I met you."

"And you never thought to tell me?"

"I wanted to. So many times. But I was scared. Scared that if you knew, you'd be in danger. Scared that someone would use you to get to me. Scared that—" His voice broke. "Scared that you'd leave me if you knew what I really was."

"What you really are," you repeated. "And what's that?"

"Someone who's done terrible things. Someone who's killed people. Someone who's more comfortable with violence than he should be." Jason's hands were shaking. "Someone who doesn't deserve you but loves you anyway."

You looked at the helmet on your table. At this man you loved who had been living a double life. Who had been lying to you for six months while you slowly fell apart.

You should be angry. You should throw him out. You should tell him that this was exactly what you were afraid of—that he'd been keeping secrets, that he hadn't trusted you.

But mostly, you just felt tired.

"I wish you'd told me sooner," you said quietly.

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry." Jason's voice was rough. "I thought I was protecting you, but all I did was push you away. Make you feel like you weren't important. Like you weren't worth being honest with."

"Why are you telling me now?"

"Because I'm losing you. Because I've already lost you. And I realized that I'd rather lose you honestly than keep you with lies." He moved closer, but didn't touch you. "You said you felt alone. That I was making you feel like you didn't matter. And I can't—I can't let you keep believing that. Not when the truth is that you're everything."

"Everything except important enough to be honest with."

Jason flinched. "You're right. And I have no excuse for that. I was scared and stupid and I convinced myself that keeping you in the dark was somehow protecting you. But all I did was hurt you."

You stared at the helmet. "You're really Red Hood."

"Yeah."

"And every time you disappeared—"

"Someone needed help. Or there was an emergency. Or something that couldn't wait." Jason's jaw clenched. "I'm not making excuses. I chose that life over you, over and over again. And I hate myself for it."

"Why didn't you just tell me? Why let me think you didn't care?"

"Because I thought if you knew, you'd be in danger. That someone would figure out you mattered to me and use you against me." He laughed bitterly. "But I put you in danger anyway. Different kind of danger. The kind where you slowly stop believing you're worth showing up for."

You were crying now, angry and hurt and confused. "I spent six months thinking I wasn't enough. Thinking that whatever you were doing was more important than me. Making excuses to my friends and family and coworkers about why my boyfriend could never be bothered to show up."

"I know—"

"Do you? Do you know how humiliating it was? How alone I felt? How many times I cried because I thought you just didn't care?"

"I care." Jason's voice broke. "I care so much it terrifies me. You're the best thing in my life, and I've been sabotaging it because I was scared. Scared of losing you. Scared of putting you in danger. Scared of—" He stopped. "Scared of a lot of things. But most of all, scared of this. Of you looking at me like you are right now. Like I'm someone who hurt you."

"You did hurt me."

"I know. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Jason was crying now too. "I would take it all back if I could. Every missed event. Every lie. Every time I made you feel like you weren't the most important person in my world."

"But you can't take it back."

"No. I can't." He wiped at his eyes. "All I can do is promise to do better. To be honest. To show up. To fight for you the way you've been fighting for me."

"What if that's not enough?"

Jason's face crumpled, but he nodded. "Then that's what I deserve. For being too scared to trust you with the truth. For making you feel alone when you should have felt loved."

You looked at him—really looked at him. At the man you loved who had been carrying this secret. Who had been living two lives and somehow managing to fail at both.

But also at the man who had shown up to tell you the truth. Who had brought his helmet, his secret, his entire hidden life and laid it at your feet. Who was crying because he'd hurt you and couldn't take it back.

"I need time," you said finally. "To process this. To figure out what it means."

"Okay." Jason stood. "Take all the time you need. And if you decide you can't do this—can't be with someone who lives this kind of life—I'll understand."

"Jason—"

"I mean it. I want you to be happy. Even if that means being happy without me." He picked up the helmet. "But if you decide you want to try—if you think we can make this work—I promise I'll do better. I'll show up. I'll be honest. I'll prove to you that you matter."

"How?"

"However you need me to. Whatever it takes. I'll fight for this. For you. For us." He moved toward the door. "I love you. I've loved you from the beginning. And I'm sorry it took losing you for me to realize I needed to show it better."

He left, and you sat alone in your apartment with the truth settling over you like a weight.

Jason was Red Hood. A vigilante. Someone who fought crime and saved lives and put himself in danger every night.

And for six months, he'd been doing it alone, keeping you separate, thinking he was protecting you when all he was doing was pushing you away.

You should be angry. Should be furious that he'd lied for so long.

But mostly, you just felt sad. For him. For you. For the relationship you'd both been trying to save in completely different ways.

Your phone buzzed. A text from Jason.

Jason: I know you need time. But I wanted you to have this.

A link to a folder. Inside were dozens of photos—you at your awards dinner, taken from a distance. You at your best friend's wedding. At your work anniversary celebration. At your birthday party.

Another text.

Jason: I was there. Not the way I should have been. But I couldn't let you be alone. Even if you didn't know it.

You stared at the photos. At the proof that while you'd felt abandoned, he'd been watching. Protecting. Trying to be there in the only way he thought he could.

It didn't excuse the lying. Didn't make up for the loneliness.

But it was something.

You texted back: We need to talk. Really talk. About all of this.

The response was immediate: Whenever you're ready. I'll be there.

You: Tomorrow. 7 PM. My place. Jason: I'll be there. I promise.

And somehow, looking at those photos, at the proof that he'd been there even when you couldn't see him—you believed him.

Jason showed up at 6:45, because of course he did.

When you opened the door, he was holding coffee from your favorite place and a bag of pastries from the bakery you loved.

"I know it's not much," he said. "But I wanted—I needed to show up. Properly this time."

You let him in and took the coffee. "You're early."

"I wasn't going to risk being late. Not for this."

You both sat on the couch, careful distance between you, and for a moment neither of you spoke.

"I don't know where to start," you admitted finally.

"Me neither." Jason set down his coffee. "But I meant what I said. About being honest. About doing better. So... ask me anything. I'll tell you the truth."

"Everything?"

"Everything."

You took a breath. "How did you become Red Hood?"

And Jason told you. About dying. About coming back wrong. About the Lazarus Pit and the rage and the years of trying to figure out who he was supposed to be. About choosing to be Red Hood because he could help people in ways the law couldn't.

You listened, and your heart broke for him. For everything he'd survived.

"I'm sorry," you said when he finished. "That's—that's a lot."

"It is. And I didn't want to burden you with it. I thought if I could keep you separate from all of that, you'd be safer. Happier."

"But I wasn't happy. I was miserable."

"I know. And that's on me." Jason looked at you. "I chose wrong. Over and over again. I chose the mission over you because it seemed more urgent. More important. But I was wrong."

"Were you?" You challenged. "If you'd come to my awards dinner instead of stopping that trafficking ring—would those people have been saved?"

Jason was quiet.

"That's the question, isn't it?" You continued. "Because I understand why you chose what you chose. Lives were at stake. People needed Red Hood. And me—I just needed my boyfriend to watch me accept an award."

"That's not—you're not just—" Jason struggled for words. "Yes, people needed Red Hood. But you needed me. Jason. Your boyfriend. The person who's supposed to show up for you. And I failed at that."

"Because you were saving lives."

"That doesn't make it okay. There had to be a way to do both. To be Red Hood and be your boyfriend. I just—I didn't know how to balance it."

"So you chose."

"I chose wrong." Jason moved closer. "I thought I was being noble. Heroic. Putting others first. But all I did was neglect you. Make you feel alone. Make you feel like you didn't matter when you're the person who matters most."

"How do I know that?" The question came out small. "How do I know I'm not always going to be second to Red Hood? That the next time there's an emergency, you won't choose it over me again?"

"Because I'm going to do better. I'm going to—" Jason stopped. "I can't promise there won't be emergencies. I can't promise I won't have to leave sometimes. But I can promise to communicate. To let you in instead of shutting you out. To stop trying to protect you from my life and start including you in it."

"What does that look like?"

"It looks like honesty. It looks like telling you when I have to leave for Red Hood business instead of making up excuses. It looks like introducing you to my family—the Bats—so you understand the world I'm part of. It looks like showing up when I say I will, and if I can't, actually explaining why."

You were quiet, processing.

"I know it's not perfect," Jason continued. "I know there will be nights where I have to choose. Where someone's life is in danger and I have to go. But I'm asking for the chance to do it right this time. To be honest about it. To let you decide if this life—if I'm—worth it."

"And if I decide you're not?"

Pain flashed across his face, but he nodded. "Then I'll accept it. I'll hate it, but I'll accept it. Because you deserve someone who can be there for you. Fully. Completely. And if I can't be that person—"

"Jason." You cut him off. "You can be that person. You just have to actually try."

Hope flickered in his eyes. "Does that mean—are you willing to try? To give this another chance?"

"I don't know yet." You were being honest. "I'm still hurt. Still angry that you lied for so long. Still processing all of this."

"That's fair."

"But I also—" You stopped. "I also love you. And I understand why you made the choices you made, even if I don't agree with them. So I'm willing to try. If you're willing to actually let me in this time."

"I am. I swear I am." Jason reached for your hand hesitantly. "Can I—"

You let him take it.

"I'm going to do better," he said. "I'm going to show up. I'm going to be honest. I'm going to prove to you that you can trust me again."

"How?"

"However you need me to. Starting with this." He pulled out his phone and opened his calendar. "These are my patrol nights. The nights I'm Red Hood. I'm giving you access so you know where I am. What I'm doing. When I'll be back."

You stared at the phone. "You're sharing your vigilante schedule with me?"

"I'm sharing my life with you. All of it. No more secrets. No more lies. Just—honesty. Even when it's hard."

Something in your chest loosened. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay. We can try. But Jason—if you miss one more important event without a really good explanation, I'm done. For real this time."

"Understood." He squeezed your hand. "I won't let you down again. I promise."

"Don't promise. Just do it."

"I will."

And looking at him—at the determination in his eyes, the hope, the love—you believed him.

It wouldn't be easy. There would be hard nights and difficult conversations and moments where you'd have to choose between being understanding and standing up for yourself.

But maybe—maybe—you could make this work.

Together.

Honestly.

Finally.

Three months later, your company's holiday party was the first real test.

You'd told Jason about it weeks in advance. Had marked it on both your calendars. Had confirmed multiple times that he'd be there.

And when the night arrived, you were prepared for disappointment. Had your excuses ready. Had steeled yourself for another lonely evening.

But Jason showed up.

Not just showed up—he arrived early, in a suit that fit him perfectly, with flowers for you and charm for your coworkers. He held your hand. Laughed at your boss's terrible jokes. Told anyone who would listen how proud he was of you.

When your boss pulled you aside to tell you about a promotion, Jason was there to celebrate. When your coworker asked to take a photo, Jason pulled you close and smiled.

"You came," you said later, standing on your apartment balcony while the party continued inside.

"I promised I would."

"I know. But I was still—"

"Scared I wouldn't." Jason pulled you closer. "I get it. I have to earn your trust back. This is part of that."

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being here. For trying. For actually doing what you said you'd do."

"I'm going to keep doing it," Jason said. "For as long as you'll let me. I'm going to keep showing up. Keep being honest. Keep fighting for us."

"Even when it's hard?"

"Especially when it's hard." He kissed your forehead. "You're worth it. We're worth it."

And looking at him—at this man who had finally learned to balance his two lives, who made time for you even when it was difficult, who showed up—you knew it was true.

It wasn't perfect. There were still hard nights. Still emergencies that pulled him away. Still moments where you had to be understanding when you wanted to be angry.

But he was trying. Really trying.

And that made all the difference.

"I love you," you said.

"I love you too." Jason smiled. "Now come on. Let's get back to your party. I promised your boss I'd tell him the embarrassing story about your first date."

"Jason, don't you dare—"

But he was already pulling you inside, laughing, present, there.

Finally, completely, honestly there.

And it was everything you'd needed all along.

[hawberries]

Hey. Don't let anything hold you back, you hear me?

[thceseus]

saw you’re making jason todd reqs can you write him with a reader who’s always sleepy and tired and jason’s just so gentle and takes care of her especially during yeah

safe and sound. ⨾ Jason Todd ¹⁸⁺

pairing: Jason Todd x reader

summary: You were always tired from the stress and life, good thing Jason knows you so well to please you even when you're sleepy.

tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, flufffff, established relationship, jason is a gentleman, soft sleepy sex, jason todd is a consent king, almost no dialogues, unprotected p in v sex, creampie.

wc: 1.7k words.

a/n: i am so sorry for only making this one now nonnie!!! i love the request so much i wanted to make a drabble but it turned out longer. also yes this made me wanna cry bcs i want him so bad.

masterlist

For how ferocious he looks and acts to others, somehow, Jason Todd is the most tender person you know.

Like when you had a restless night where sleep just won’t come, his deep and gravelly voice would be a balm to your heart and mind, lulling you to sleep in an instant as he talked about anything and everything—from a childhood story, to a cat he met during patrol last week.

Mornings were a ritual where he’d wake up first, already washing up, ready in the kitchen to brew some coffee for the day. He would never wake you up on purpose unless you prompt him the night before.

When you’re sick? It feels like his tenderness triples—no, it was times a hundred. He would fuss out of love. He’d cook your favorite soup, brew some tea with a hint of honey for your sore throat. He would never mind if you were dampening the sheets underneath you as you sweat the fever out when you sleep, immediately changing the soft cotton the moment you wake up so you won’t feel chafed.

Even when you’re needy—he’d know your cues. Your eyes would flicker with a certain kind of look, filled with craving and, most of all, love. Jason would immediately ask what you want, however you want it, even if it’s full-on rough or lazy and soft. anything, he’d be there to make it come true.

And you’re someone who was always halfway to sleep. During the day, even after a full night of slumber, it’s even worse when your job gets in the way of your rest. It’s not laziness, more of an exhaustion already set deep inside your bones after the long shifts and the late nights, and not to mention, well, life.

Jason always noticed, though. When your eyes would droop slower, or when your hums became softer—he’d be there to guide you to bed in an instant. arms wrapping your frame, fingers absentmindedly running along your back as your breath settled and deepened.

Again, Jason Todd is the infamous anti-hero, Red Hood. known to fight brutally, have no mercy, always so sharp and savage. But to you, he’s just… Jason.

Soft and gentle Jason.

just like tonight, where you came into his flat soaked—your hood, tired and soaked from Gotham’s rain, and dripping onto his welcome mat. body shivering to no end ever since you realized how you forgot to pack your pocket umbrella into your bag.

He was already there. Sharp features highlighted by the only warm lamp lighting the whole living room, his scars—proof of his years of vigilante work—gleaming under it. He looked up at the sound of the lock turning, his face immediately etched in worry as he saw your state.

He stood up, went to his bathroom to get a towel, and began taking care of you as if it were routine. He helped you out of your soaked jacket, untied your shoes, and undressed you before leading you onto the couch, where he’d gently pat your hair dry.

His presence was warm as he carefully slipped you into fresh clothes, kissing your cheeks and your forehead wordlessly—but you could feel how much he was saying through the things he did.

He sits close beside you after. thumb finding the back of your hand, brushing your knuckles like he was remembering each bump as he recalled his day. You’d nod off, body leaning towards his—chasing his comfort. He would make sure to adjust himself so you won’t feel uncomfortable too.

And then he sees it the moment your eyes flicker towards him for just a beat. Though hidden underneath the exhaustion, it was there—the desire, burning lowly in your eyes, just enough for it to make his stomach clench.

So he asked gently, fingers brushing your cheekbone. “wanna sleep or do you want me?”

You felt the knot in your heart unravel. relieved that Jason understood you so much to read you so precisely, and also asked the questions before you both started something. And you know that you can be honest with him. no matter the answer, he won’t be disappointed. If you say sleep, he would tuck you in and stay—but if you say him, he would make it his life goal to make you feel satisfied.

You answered with a soft “yes”, reaching out to him.

He took it as an invitation, slowly leading you into the bedroom—not rushing you once. He matched every movement, every rhythm of your breath, so attentive.

When he softly laid you down on the bed, he lowered himself over you. His fingers brushed along your cheeks once more, thumb mapping out your lips, before he kissed you, so softly it almost made all the worry—tiredness in you all disappear.

The thing is, sex with Jason when you’re sleepy is never loud, never rough, and performative. It would start quietly, with kisses that let you know he was there fully. The way his fingers moved would make you feel safe to just to let everything go.

He would carefully strip you out of your fresh pajamas, kissing every inch of your newly exposed skin. When you’re both naked, he’d watch you—study you as if it was the first time you shared this kind of intimacy.

the way your face flushed, your chest rising more than normal, lips parted in anticipation—yet your eyes were still half-lidded, both from the sleepiness and need.

You look vulnerable and trusting.

But he wasn’t the type to take advantage in that. With each motion, he’d uttered the words.

“Is this okay?”

“Tell me if you want me to slow down.”

“Squeeze my hand if it’s too much.”

His voice stays constant with tenderness because he knows that when you’re sleepy, your consent often comes in tiny gestures: nods, soft sighs, and words breathed out, a subtle but visible clench of your thighs—he has learned all of it.

So when you spread wide and prop your legs up on his hips, he knows that you’re fully ready.

He’d stroke his thick and hard cock gently to spread the precum from his tip—already there the moment he saw how much you needed him—before kissing you once more. His fingers skimming your ribs, down to your hipbones.

You let out a soft gasp as his swollen tip finally grazes your sensitive clit. walls fluttering immediately from the tiny sensation he gave.

“Ready?” he asked.

You nodded, and he finally served. The moan you let out was the loudest one tonight as he began stretching you open inch by inch. His lips stayed close against your face, where they would kiss the furrow in your brows when you feel the delicious burn simmering in your guts.

He also let out the most unraveling sound as his own body shuddered. a deep guttural groan against your neck when his cock was buried to the hilt. “You always feel so good, sweetheart…”

He settled his pace. deep and slow, not once rushing. He’d learn when to pull and push in again from the way your lips let out soft breaths and your walls clenching.

And again, he’d make sure you’re still in it. If your eyelids fall, he’d murmurs soft words until you lift your eyes to look at him again. If you drift mid-kiss, he’d brush his thumb along the slow pulse of your neck, grazing it to make you more alert.

“Feel me, okay? look at me…”

He said before kissing you. Your arms would wrap around him, chasing his peacefulness as if you can’t get enough of the feeling of his body on yours. moans grew louder as the coil inside you was pulled more and more with each gentle thrust of his hips against yours.

He felt it. the way your cunt would flutter around him more frequently, how your eyes would roll back, your back arching—closing the gap between you more and more.

You finally came with a soft surrender rather than an explosive passion. a soft yet echoing exhale that made your body tremble. a small, unguarded sound as your body jolts in pleasure. The arms around him tightened with every clamping flutter of your walls, clinging onto him like he was a lifeline.

And he followed closely. The way your cunt gripped his cock, making him lose his composure—ending in him spilling his milky seed inside you with a louder moan. His own body trembled with the overwhelming pressure—no matter how subtle it is compared to the more detonating sex you’ve had before.

He kissed you again softly, muttering even softer words of gratitude and affection. When he pulled out, he was on his feet instantly. running a washcloth under the sink in his bathroom, making sure it’s the perfect temperature. When he came back, he saw how you were practically half asleep.

He’d carefully clean the sticky mess between your thighs, the sweat that made your hair stick on your forehead, before planting a lingering kiss there as well.

Pulling a stray shirt he threw earlier, he’d gently straighten you up to pull it over your head. then a fresh pair of panties from the dresser, and also boxers for himself. No shirt though, he knew how much you enjoyed the feeling of his bare skin as you slept.

His hand carefully tucked you under the sheets afterward, making sure you felt no cold throughout the night, before following you. His arms wrapped around your shoulders, cocooning you into the safety that is Jason.

You could only smile as you watched him, too exhausted to do anything else. but god, does he make you feel like you were the most cherished person in this world.

He’d murmured words like a lullaby. silly stories, gentle promises, I love yous. If you finally talk half-asleep about your worries or what happened throughout the day, he would listen—answering at the right times and without ever rushing you.

And with each day with him, you learn his roughness is an armor he wears for everyone else but you.

© thceseus, 2026 ༝ likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. thank you for reading! ᢉ𐭩

[jinxispunk]

nap trap

Steve Harrington x reader

Summary: Steve discovers that if he plays with your hair for long enough, you will fall asleep on him every single time.

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, minors DNI, no use of y/n, established relationship, fluff, sleepy affection, domestic intimacy, kissing, touch-starved steve harrington, comfort fic (lmk if i missed anything)

W/C: 1.2k

Read more of my writing here: [masterlist]

You’re both sprawled across his couch after a movie, the living room lit only by the television and the warm orange lamp beside the window. Rain taps softly against the glass while some terrible late-night advert mutters quietly in the background now that the film’s ended.

You’re tucked against his side beneath one of his old blankets, half talking about something Robin said earlier while Steve absentmindedly plays with your hair.

Not even consciously, really.

Just something his hands started doing at some point during the relationship and never stopped.

Twisting soft strands around his fingers. Scratching lightly against your scalp. Pushing hair back away from your face whenever it falls forward.

Steve likes touching you. This is not exactly new information.

What is new is the fact your voice suddenly cuts off halfway through a sentence.

Steve glances down.

You’re asleep.

Completely asleep.

Mouth slightly parted against his shoulder, breathing slow and even, one hand still loosely curled in the fabric of his t-shirt.

Steve blinks once.

“…seriously?”

You do not respond, mostly because you are unconscious.

Steve stares at you for another few seconds before looking down at his hand still buried in your hair.

Interesting.

The second time it happens, he starts suspecting a pattern.

You’re sitting between his legs on the floor of his bedroom while he half watches a movie over your shoulder and half messes with your hair mindlessly. You’d insisted you weren’t tired less than ten minutes earlier.

“You literally slept till eleven,” Steve reminds you while separating sections of your hair carefully.

“I know,” you mumble. “That’s why I’m not tired.”

“Hm.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“You like me.”

“Unfortunately.”

Steve grins slightly to himself before dragging his nails lightly across your scalp again.

Your shoulders loosen immediately.

Another few minutes pass.

Then, nothing.

No response to his last comment. No movement either.

Steve leans slightly sideways to look at your face properly.

Dead asleep.

Again.

Still sitting upright between his legs.

Steve laughs so suddenly he nearly wakes you back up.

“Oh my god,” he mutters quietly.

By the fourth or fifth occurrence, it becomes less of a coincidence and more of a genuinely ridiculous amount of power for one person to hold.

Especially because Steve starts testing it.

Not maliciously.

Scientifically.

“You’re doing it on purpose now,” you mumble one afternoon, already sounding half asleep despite having argued thirty seconds earlier that you were “definitely awake.”

Steve, stretched out beside you on his bed, continues scratching softly through your hair with an expression of complete innocence.

“Doing what?”

“The hair thing.”

“What hair thing?”

“The…” You frown weakly. “The sleepy thing.”

Steve bites the inside of his cheek hard trying not to laugh.

Because it really is absurd.

You could be fully awake, actively talking, even complaining about not being tired at all, and within ten minutes of Steve touching your hair for long enough you’re suddenly fighting for your life trying to keep your eyes open.

“You’re being dramatic,” he says.

You squint at him suspiciously through obvious exhaustion. “You’re evil.”

“Mhm.”

“You’re like…” Another yawn interrupts you completely. “Like a tranquiliser gun.”

Steve loses it completely at that.

You fall asleep less than five minutes later with your face squashed into his chest while he quietly laughs into your hair.

After that, it becomes sort of unavoidable.

Steve starts noticing all the tiny signs before you even realise you’re tired.

The slower blinking. The way your body gradually gets heavier against him. The increasingly delayed responses during conversations.

And every single time, without fail, the second his fingers slide into your hair properly, you melt.

On the couch.

In bed.

Once in the passenger seat of his car while he waited for Robin to come out of Family Video after locking up.

Another time at the Wheeler’s house with your head in his lap while everyone else argued loudly over a board game around you.

“You cannot be serious,” Dustin says, staring at your sleeping form in disbelief. “How does she keep doing that?”

Steve barely looks up from where he’s still lazily playing with your hair. “Doing what?”

“She was literally talking.”

“Yeah?”

“And now she’s unconscious.”

Steve shrugs like this is completely normal behaviour.

Robin narrows her eyes immediately from the opposite couch.

“Oh, this is definitely psychological.”

Steve scoffs. “What does that even mean?”

“She’s associated you with sleep now.”

“That’s not a thing.”

“It absolutely is,” Robin says. “You Pavlov’d your girlfriend.”

“I did not Pavlov my girlfriend.”

“You basically turned yourself into a human melatonin gummy.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but his hand never stops moving gently through your hair.

Mostly because Robin’s not entirely wrong.

There’s something about the trust of it that affects him more than he expects. The fact you fall asleep so easily against him. The way your whole body relaxes the second he touches you softly enough.

Like some part of you recognises him as safe before you even consciously think about it.

That part gets to him a little if he thinks about it too long.

Which is why he tries not to.

Unfortunately for him, you make this extremely difficult one rainy afternoon a few weeks later.

You’re both curled together in his bed while thunder rumbles softly outside, Steve lazily tracing shapes against your scalp while you blink sleepily up at him.

“You know,” you mumble eventually, “I think my body’s accidentally been trained.”

Steve grins immediately. “Finally admitting it?”

“This is your fault.”

“My fault you’re always sleepy?”

“My fault for trusting you enough to fall asleep this much.”

The smile slips slightly from Steve’s face at that.

You notice immediately, even half asleep.

“What?”

Steve looks down at you quietly for a second before shrugging one shoulder.

“Nothing.”

“Steve.”

His fingers slow slightly in your hair.

“It’s just…” He huffs softly through his nose. “I dunno. Kinda nice, I guess.”

Your expression softens immediately.

Because there it is.

The actual thing sitting underneath all the teasing.

Steve likes being trusted.

Likes being needed in these tiny quiet ways that nobody else really notices.

The way you automatically reach for his hand crossing roads. The way you sleep better beside him. The way you unconsciously move closer every time you’re tired.

You shift upwards slightly against his chest until you can kiss him properly.

Steve kisses you back slowly, one hand still tangled gently in your hair.

“I genuinely think this is my favourite thing.”

Your lips twitch.

“Me falling asleep?”

“No.” Steve smiles faintly. “You trusting me enough to.”

Something warm twists painfully through your chest.

You kiss him again before you can think too hard about it.

Steve’s fingers slide slowly through your hair once more afterwards, scratching lightly against your scalp in that familiar absentminded rhythm.

Dangerous.

You narrow your eyes immediately. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“You know exactly what.”

Steve looks deeply unconvincing. “I’m just touching your hair.”

“You’re literally weaponising affection.”

Steve starts laughing quietly while you attempt to glare at him through increasingly heavy eyelids.

“You’re already falling asleep,” he says.

“No I’m not.”

“You just blinked for like six seconds.”

“That means nothing.”

Steve grins down at you, still gently combing his fingers through your hair.

“You’re done for, sweetheart.”

You open your mouth to argue.

Then immediately yawn instead.

Steve looks so unbearably pleased with himself that you weakly shove at his chest in protest.

It does absolutely nothing.

Mostly because less than ten minutes later, you’re asleep against him again.

And Steve, unfortunately, looks far too happy about it.

dividers by saradika-graphics

[achinglovers]

First Date Receipt

Pairing: Jason Todd x reader

Summary: Jason keeps the receipt from your first date and you find out on a quiet, soft evening.

Disclosure: jason is a cutie, fluffy, jason is described to be taller than reader, could be read as gn!reader, no mentions of skin color and/or description of size/figure, they call each other baby, reader calls him jaylove, jason is a little self conscious of his actions

a/n: i haven’t written in so long but this flowed so easily, although i’m not that happy with my writing. let me know if you have some suggestion on what i could change. english is not my first language and this is not proofread. please don’t be afraid to like, reblog and/or comment!! 🫶

“I love this scene.” you murmur quietly, watching as a movie plays on the tv while you’re laying on the couch in your and Jason’s shared apartment.

Jason is sat next to you, one arm carefully laid across your shoulders as he twirls a piece of your hair between his fingers.

He hums softly in agreement to your previous statement, continuing to get lost in the scene that is playing.

Both of you are ripped out of your cozy atmosphere by the ringing of your doorbell.

“I’ll get it.” you exclaim energetically, wiggling out from under his arm as you get up. Him and you both know that it must be the food you ordered almost an hour ago. Burgers. Jason’s choice, of course.

As you make your way to the door, you can feel Jason’s gaze following your steps. You know that he’s always as careful as he can be, especially when it comes to you. You never know what kind of people may be showing up at your doorstep, even if it’s just to deliver food.

“Jaylove? Do you have cash for a tip?” you question, turning to face where he’s now sitting facing the door, his shoulders squared broad and his legs spread. You know he would look menacing to whoever would stand at the door and see him behind you, glaring.

“My wallet‘s in my jacket pocket.” he answers, his voice soft in comparison to the way he holds his body.

You huff quietly, rolling your eyes at his antics while your turn to where his jacket is hung up next to the door, reaching into his pocket. Even if you think he’s being dramatic, you love him for it. That’s why you can’t help the smile creeping across your face as you turn back around, now with his wallet clutched in your hand.

Before you can make a teasing remark, the whole interaction is cut off with a knock at the door, and you quickly open it to find your delivery driver holding out the bag of food to you.

You exchange a quick greeting as you take the bag and press a five dollar bill in his hand, and he thank you quietly before he’s already on his way again.

With the bag of food in one hand, and Jason’s wallet in the other, you gently nudge the door closed with your hip, turning to make your way into the kitchen, when a small piece of paper catches your eyes.

Maneuvering his wallet into the same hand holding the bag, you quickly bend down and pick it up.

Now that you can see it up close, you recognize that it’s a receipt. Specificity, the receipt of the first time the two of you went out together.

You still remember how nervous you were, finally crossing the line from friends to something more.

You still remember how nervous Jason was, trying not to let it show but failing miserably as he stumbled over his words and almost knocked over his drink.

You still remember insisting that you could split the bill, but he insisted on paying for you the both of you.

And you still remember how the two of you doodled together on the back of the receipt while waiting for the waiter to come back.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Jason is now getting plates out of the both of you. When he notices you not moving, he looks up, softly calling out to you. “Baby? You coming?”

You’re snapped out of your memories by his voice, and you look up to find him watching you already. Then his eyes drift down to what you’re holding.

He raises a brow. “What‘d you got there?”

Eyes crinkling, a cheesy smile lights up your face as your mouth forms a subtle pout.

Moving towards him, you set the bag and his wallet down on the counter across from him.

“You kept the receipt from our first date?” you question softly, even though you know the answer already. In a split second, you see his face going from confusion, to embarrassment, finally ending up in a sheepish expression.

“That’s so fucking cute, Jason.” you tell him straight up, already knowing he’s searching for the right way to explain himself. But you don’t need him to.

His eyes widen slightly in surprise. “It is? I thought you’d think it would be… weird.” He confesses.

“What?” you exclaim. “No way! Why would that be weird?”

He just shrugs, shyly avoiding your gaze. You round the counter, now taking his face inbetween the palms of your hands, tilting his head so he’s forced to meet your eyes.

Your smile brightens when you notice the flush on his cheeks. God, he looks so cute you just want to squeeze him.

“That’s really sweet of you, baby. I mean it.“ you express.

Jason mirrors your smile, if somewhat smaller. “I‘m glad.” he admits. “I’ve kept it in my wallet since that night. Right next to the picture of you.”

He swallows before he continues. “Sometimes I take it out and just look at it, and I’m reminded of our first date. That was arguably the best day of my life back then, and it always reminds me what I’m coming home to.” he shrugs sheepishly, like he didn’t just made your eyes well up only with words.

You could melt right there and then at his confession. Instead, you move your hands away from his face and place them around his waist, pressing yourself against him in a hug. You squeeze your eyes shut as you nuzzle your face into his chest.

Jason is a little taken aback, but when he realized what you’re doing, he sees no other option but to wrap his arms around you, too.

The two of you stay like this for a while, before Jason hears a small sniff coming from you. He pulls his head back, trying to catch a glimpse of your face. “Are you crying?”

The only response he gets is silence, that’s then interrupted by another small sniff and a quiet “No.” from you.

He chuckles, shaking his head as he presses a long kiss on top of your head. “Come on, let’s eat.”

You pull back, quickly wiping under your eyes. Then you place on hand in the side of his face as you lean up, placing a quick peck on the opposite cheek. “I love you, Jason.” you smile, before turning to finally unbox the food from the bag.

Jason feels the blood rushing to his cheeks again as he mumbles a quiet. “Love you too.”

[invincibledc]

𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯 #FRY STEALER

fem!reader x Jason Todd

when a certain fry thief keeps trying to play in your face.

You and Jason were at a simple diner, a simple little snack since you and Jason were bored on a simple Saturday.

And what’s better than rotting in your shared apartment?

Eating.

You ordered a simple burger and fries, and this hunk of muscle ordered two burgers and his own side of fries.

So basically he had his own fries. So why in the hell every time you look away or look at your phone, your fries get to a lower fry count each time?

You raised a brow while you put down your burger that had a big bite in it. Jason had inhaled his burger in just two bites.

“Jay.. did you take my fries?” You asked, raising a brow when Jason gave you a veryyyy ‘confused’ look.

“No? I have my own set of fries.” He responded, gesturing to his own fries that lay perfectly ….

Actually, they aren’t even in the damn basket. He’d basically vacuum the damn string fries down his throat.

Fucking food dumpster.

“Jason.” You said sternly as he chewed his other burger as if he wasn’t going to finish it in two big bites.

“I ain’t do nothin' babe.”

“Mhm.”

You then looked outside, watching as people walked past the window. But your eyes caught movement.

There you saw Jason reach his hand quickly to your basket of fries.

Swiftly, you turned your head around and pointed to him.

“AH HA! CAUGHT YA!” You exclaimed and moved to grab the fry basket towards you.

But Jason was quicker. Of course he was.

He literally shoved a whole bunch of fries in his mouth and smirked at your bewildered face.

“You're not getting them back,” Jason said with his mouth full and muffled. You stuck your tongue at him.

“Just big and greedy!” You mocked the green-eyed male who just chewed your fries in pure victory.