rating: 18+. mdni.
content: bsf!jason, fingering
note: i'm gonna make this a series UGHH ovulating so bad rn
You should’ve known the second Jason leaned across your bed, red in the face but determined, that he was about to say something stupid.
“Okay, don’t laugh,” he said, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie, eyes darting everywhere but yours. “But… I want you to teach me how to finger a girl.”
You blinked. “Excuse me?”
He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I said don’t laugh! I just—look, I don’t wanna be that guy, you know? The one who’s all talk and then… sucks at it.” His voice dropped, muttering, “And you’re the only one I trust not to roast me forever.”
That was a lie. You were absolutely going to roast him forever. “So your master plan,” you said slowly, “Is to ask me—your best friend—to let you practice sticking your fingers up my—”
“Not like that!” He shot upright, ears flaming. “I mean—yeah, maybe like that eventually, but I thought—” He broke off, swallowing. “I thought you could just… show me? On yourself. Like, what feels good. And I’ll watch. Then I’ll know what to do.”
The air went electric between you. Jason, trying to look calm, was anything but—his leg bounced against the mattress, his lips pressed thin like he was holding back a thousand words.
“You’re serious,” you said, studying him.
“Dead serious.” He finally met your eyes, and something about the rawness there—the need—made your stomach do a flip. “Please. I need to know how. And… I want it to be you who shows me.”
God help you, you shifted back against the headboard, heart thumping. “You’re unbelievable,” you muttered, already sliding your hand under the waistband of your shorts. His eyes widened, tracking every movement like he’d never seen anything more important.
“Holy shit,” he breathed when your fingers skimmed lower, pulling off your shorts and then your panties.
“You’re staring like a creep,” you teased, but your voice was soft, your other hand bracing on the sheets as you let two fingers trail through your folds. Heat spiked low in your belly, and Jason leaned closer unconsciously, breath shallow.
“Talk me through it,” he said hoarsely.
You bit your lip but nodded. “Slow at first,” you murmured, gathering your wetness and circling your clit with the lightest pressure. A quiet sound slipped out of you. “You don’t just dive in. You… warm her up.”
Jason’s pupils blew wide, chest rising and falling quick. His knuckles were white where he gripped his knee.
“Then,” you continued, sliding a finger inside yourself, “You curl your fingers. Not straight in and out. Curl—like you’re beckoning.” You demonstrated, a gasp catching in your throat.
Jason groaned low, his hand twitching like he wanted to reach for you but didn’t dare. “Fuck. Okay. Curl. Got it.”
You added another finger, pushing deeper, showing him the slow rhythm. Your head tipped back, eyes fluttering shut. “You angle up—toward the front wall. That’s where it’s sensitive.”
“Jesus Christ,” Jason muttered, shifting uncomfortably on the bed. His hoodie bunched at his hips, doing nothing to hide the obvious strain in his sweats. “You’re… fuck, you’re so hot.”
“Focus, Todd,” you teased, though your breath was shaky as your thumb pressed against your clit in time with your thrusts. “Pay attention. You asked for a lesson.”
“I am,” he swore, voice cracking a little. He leaned in closer, hanging on your every movement. “You look—shit—so good like that. Gonna make sure I get it right. Swear it.”
Your hips stuttered as you felt the coil tighten, your moans slipping free before you could swallow them down. Jason was nearly panting now, his voice rough and desperate when he whispered, “Please, let me try. I can do it. Just—fuck—please.”
You let out an involuntary whimper at his voice, your body arched as you worked yourself open, every nerve ending alive under his gaze.
“Please,” he said again, almost broken now. “I wanna try. Need to feel you—need you to tell me if I’m doing it right.”
You let your fingers slip free, coated in arousal, and almost cried at the loss. He watched them withdraw, throat bobbing.
Gently, he grabbed your wrist. His fingers trembled, larger than yours, calloused from too many nights swinging crowbars and guns. “Can I?”
When you nodded at him, he let out a shaky breath, bringing your fingers to his mouth and licking them clean. A guttural noise ripped from his throat.
“Come here,” you murmured, guiding his hand. You brought it between your thighs, pressing his middle finger against your slick entrance.
He exhaled sharply. “Fuck—you’re so warm.”
“Slow,” you whispered, gripping his wrist to steady him as he pushed inside. You both gasped at the stretch—him at the way you clenched, you at the way he stared, awestruck and reverent, like he couldn’t believe you were letting him do this.
“Now curl,” you instructed softly, rolling your hips just enough to show him. “Not straight. Curl toward me.”
He obeyed, tentative at first, then firmer when your sharp inhale encouraged him. “Like this?”
“Yes—fuck, yes,” you moaned, nails digging into his arm. “Right there.”
Jason’s face lit up, pride mixing with hunger. “Oh my god, I felt that. You—your whole body—” He shoved another finger in beside the first, clumsy but eager. “Tell me if it’s too much.”
“It’s perfect,” you groaned, head falling back against the headboard. He curled and thrust, his breath ragged in your ear as he built a rhythm.
“Jesus, you’re squeezing so tight,” he rasped, pressing his thumb experimentally against your clit. You gasped, and his eyes widened like he’d just uncovered treasure. “That—yeah? That’s good?”
“Don’t stop—oh my god—don’t stop.”
Jason’s jaw flexed, his focus razor-sharp despite how his hips were jerking restlessly, his cock straining against his sweats. He leaned in close, his voice rough: “C’mon, show me I’m doing it right. Please—come for me.”
Your body seized as he curled just right, thumb grinding clumsy, relentless circles against your clit. The wave hit you hard, your moan spilling raw into the room as you clutched his wrist, hips bucking into his hand.
Jason swore under his breath, watching you unravel. “Holy shit—holy shit, I made you—” He slowed only when you flinched, but kept his fingers inside, awed at the way you pulsed around him.
When your breathing finally steadied, you cracked an eye open to see him looking completely wrecked; flushed, panting, pupils blown wide.
“Well?” you teased weakly. “Lesson learned?”
He gave a shaky laugh, pulling his fingers free, sucking on them without shame. “Learned it. Memorized it. Probably dreaming about it for the rest of my life.”
Then, bolder, rough-voiced, “But… maybe I need a little more practice.”
warnings: smut, implied breeding kink, dry humping, Jason Todd is a whiny little freak, parent AU
a/n: enjoy
Jason watches you nurse your little baby and feels a wave of selfishness and guilt wash over him when he has the worst thought he's had in months: he wants to get you pregnant again.
Your son is only five months old, just barely past the mark of you being cleared for sex again–which you haven't had because of how exhausting it is to have a newborn–and Jason knows it's fucked up to even wish that on you, but damn if you aren't the sexiest mom he's ever seen.
At that moment, you glance up at Jason and send him a small smile before putting your eyes back on the small child in your arms. "He's hungry," you murmur, softly brushing over your sons forehead with your fingertips. He looks up at with wide eyes as he feeds off you, and you can't help but smile down at him. "Yeah, you know you are."
Jason smiles at the sight of you and shifts on the stool to adjust his pants, rearranging the semi he's sporting. God, if he isn't the most selfish person in the world right now. He hasn't even tried for sex lately because you've brushed him off twice due to being exhausted or simply not in the mood, and Jason respects that, but for the past few nights he has needed you in the way he did the night he's sure he got you pregnant. And that scares him, and would probably piss you off if you knew.
"What's up, Jay?" you question, not looking up but simply feeling his gaze from his place a few feet away.
"Nothin', baby."
You peek up at him, a teasing smile on your face. "You're a terrible liar, Jason. Talk to me, babe," you say softly, urging him to open up to you, but Jason knows this is not what you want to hear, nor what you're expecting.
"Just thinkin' about how much I love you," Jason says cheekily. It's not untrue, but it is the better answer than the whole truth.
You smirk and look down at your baby. "Daddy's gone soft," you tell him, making Jason scoff. You giggle when it looks like you son smiles, like he's in on the joke too. "Funny, huh?"
Jason rolls his eyes, but it's entirely with love. Yeah, he's gone soft, whatever. He wouldn't have it any other way.
Once your baby is done feeding, you pull him off your chest and Jason gets up to take him from you. Before you fix your top, Jason sneaks a glance at your chest and sighs quietly, willing himself to get his thoughts under control, and begins pacing the room while he burps the baby. "I'll be right back," you say as you stand up from the rocking chair, pressing a kiss to the side of Jasons neck and slipping out of the nursery.
Even the small kiss makes Jasons heart jump pathetically. Get it together, man, he tells himself, grabbing the burping rag that hangs off the side of the crib. "It's just you and me, little man," Jason says as he softly pats his sons back. "Let me know when you want a sibling, man. I think you need a sister." Jason shakes his head at how ridiculous he knows he sounds, but he's going a little crazy here.
After a few more firm pats against his back, Jason gets your son to spit up. Jason shifts him in his arms and smiles softly at the baby, who just stares back up at him with wide, curious eyes. "Good job, little man," he murmurs, tossing the soiled rag into the hamper. You come back in the nursery and smile at the sight before you, your heart growing in size.
Feeling your presence, Jason looks at you over his shoulder. "Go lay down, baby. I'll put him to sleep."
"Let me say goodnight first," you walk over to the two of them and press a gentle kiss to you sons forehead. "Don't give daddy a hard time." You whisper. You squeeze Jasons arm before heading down the hall to your bedroom.
Fifteen minutes later, Jason comes into the room as you're rubbing lotion into your legs, wearing nothing but that loose shirt and a pair of panties. Heat pools in his stomach as he stands in the doorway and watches you like some creep, adams apple bobbing each time your shirt rides up when you bend down to massage the lotion into your skin. "You're staring again," you quip, not bothering to look up.
Jason flushes at being caught for a second time tonight. He has no excuse, can't even find proper words for himself or take his eyes off of you. "You're my wife," is all he manages, clearing his throat and walking over to his side of the bed.
"Very true," you say with a smile on your face, taking your leg off of the bed and standing up straight. Theres a brief pause, like neither of you are such what is going to happen, both of you simply looking at the other and waiting for them to move. "You sure you're alright, Jason?"
"Mhm."
You look at him for another moment before deciding to leave it alone. You crawl into your side of the bed and sit up on your knees to wrap yourself around him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Love you," you murmur. Strong arms wrap around you and press you tight against him, one hand coming to rest on your hip.
"I love you," he says, pressing his lips to yours in what is supposed to be a simple 'goodnight' kiss. But Jason can't help when he kisses you with tongue, and you can't help that you allow him to. Jason tugs you down onto his leg thats resting on the bed, your knees on either side of his thick thigh.
The heat from your core against his leg sends him into a frenzy and makes his cock twitch. You press yourself against him, soft chest against his hard one, and sigh into his mouth. Jasons hands travel down to your ass and he starts to lean back against the headboard, but you stop him when you pull away. "Not tonight," you say, almost sheepishly. A light blush covers your cheeks when Jason blinks twice, almost like he forgot where he was.
"Of course," he says, pressing a quick kiss to your lips and helping you off his lap. He swallows thickly after he helps you back into your side of the bed, and dismisses himself to the bathroom.
You let out a sigh when once he's gone, feeling a little bit bad for cutting him off even though you're denying yourself too. It's not that you don't want to have sex with Jason–you do, desperately–you just feel a little bit off about it. Not necessarily with your postpartum body, but everything else. You don't know if you'll be able to handle Jason, specifically, and the mere thought of trying again after having not had sex for a long while scares the shit out of you.
With a sigh, you flop down onto your pillow and close your eyes. The bathroom door opens and a few moments later the bed dips with Jason's weight. He drapes a heavy arm over your hips and nestles in behind, trying to clear his mind of horny thoughts so his dick doesn’t press into you the entire night, and closes his eyes to fall asleep.
Except, almost two hours later, Jason still hasn’t fallen asleep. He hasn’t even dozed off the way you quickly did once he settled in bed, he’s too plagued with his own selfish and horny thoughts. He’s long since turned away from you, resting on his side, a hand palming himself through his pants. He wants to jack himself off, but doesn’t want to move and accidentally wake you up.
His cock aches. And the more he thinks about how hard he is, it only seems to make everything worse.
Jason can’t take it anymore, can’t handle the simplicity of your body heat next to him. He slowly sits up, tensing when the bed creaks and waits to see if you move. When you don’t, he drops his shoulders and works his pants and boxers down, bottom lip pulled between his teeth.
His cock is sensitive. So much so that when he wraps his large hand around it he whimpers quietly, bringing his other fist up to his mouth, biting down on his knuckles as he slowly starts to pump his shaft.
Jason groans around his first, sucking in a sharp breath as he tugs at his aching member. He drops his fist from his mouth and tucks his chin in toward his chest, catching the neck of his shirt between his teeth. Jason pants harshly, teeth grinding into the soft cotton of his tshirt, muscles tightening.
“Jason?” Your soft voice makes him jump, hand stilling against his member. His heart rages in his chest, shame flooding his body as he turns to look at you over his shoulder, tshirt still in his mouth. You lean over and flick on a lamp to get a proper look at his shadowed figure, and immediately press your lips together when you see him hunched over, no mistake that he’s got his cock in his hand.
It’s pathetic how he has to let the shirt fall from his lips, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. “Y-yeah, baby?” His voice doesn’t sound right, it’s shaky and low in a way that makes a flicker of heat light in your stomach.
You shift on the bed to sit on your knees, the sheets falling off your legs. You touch a hand to your chest, unsure of what to say. His back remains towards you, but his head is craned over his neck, his gaze on you. “What’re you doing?”you ask, beginning to crawl over to him.
Jason blushes, eyes following your every move. The shirt you’re wearing—his, really—slips off of your shoulder from how loose the neck has gotten, exposing your bare skin. Jason’s hand slowly starts pumping his cock again, thumb slipping over the tip and making him shudder.
You come up behind him and press a soft kiss to his lips, arms wrapping around his shoulders and hands sliding down to his chest. His heart thumps wildly under your palm, at the feeling of your hands on him and your chest against his back. Your lips leave his to press open mouthed kisses along his neck, hands traveling lower to his torso.
Jason lets out a throaty groan, ears going red at how utterly pitiful he feels. “Let me,” you whisper as your hands move lower, stopping at the hem of his shirt.
“Y-you don’t have t-to,” Jason stammers out, twitching when your fingers brush over his pelvis.
“I want to,” you reply, voice hushed. You place a final kiss to his throat before moving away from him so he can adjust his position on the bed. Jason won’t meet your eyes as he swings his legs from the floor onto the bed, fist still around his swollen cock, and parts his legs. You settle over one of his big thighs, much like how you did a few hours prior, and gently pull his wrist away from his member, his cock slapping against his abdomen. “Let me.” You say again, kissing him with some fervor.
Wrapping your hand around his thick cock, your lips falter at the sheer weight of him, how big you forgot he was. Your knees gently squeeze around his leg, your core tightening around nothing. Jason lets out a sigh, relaxing against the pillows.
You drag your hand up and down his shaft, thumb smoothing over the tip and dragging down some of the pre-cum. Jason leans up abt captured your lips in a kiss, whining quietly against your mouth as you jack him off. The sounds he makes go straight to your core, your hips grinding down on his thick leg.
Jason grunts when he feels wetness and warmth against his thigh, opening his eyes and pulling back from your mouth to watch you slowly drag your cunt up his leg. The sight almost makes him cum, hips jerking, but he holds himself back and groans out a curse, his hands grabbing onto your hips.
“You could’ve woken me up,” you pant, your free hand hand clamping down on his shoulders as you shamelessly rut against him, forehead dropping against his as you keep pulling at his cock. “You don’t have to do it alone.” Your lips press against the corner of his mouth, and your husband lets out a small whimper that makes your pussy clench.
Jason can’t find the words to form a proper reply. He’s near his release, his abdomen tightening with the beginnings of his climax. “Cmon, Jason. Are you gonna give it to me?” Your teeth gently tug at his earlobe, making him suck in a shaky breath and his hips buck in your hand. “Give it to me.”
Your hips still on his leg momentarily as Jason cums with a strangled whimper, your name tumbling from his lips. Warm, white cum coats your hand, and you keep pumping his cock, milking him for all he’s got. Your slick seeps through your panties and leave a wet spot against his thigh, but neither of you can form the thought to care.
“B-baby,” his voice cracks, and he’d be embarrassed if he didn’t feel so good. You pull your hand off of him and bring it up to your mouth, dragging your tongue from the heel of your hand up to your middle finger and gathering her cum on your tongue. Jason watches you with his jaw hanging open and low eyes, feeling like he could cum again just by watching you. “Fuck, you’re crazy.” But he says it like a man purely in love.
Dropping your hand, you lean down and kiss him, making him taste himself. Jason groans, hand sliding down to grip your ass tightly, needing something to ground himself.
You pull back, a thin line of saliva connecting the two of you, and start to move off of his lap but Jason stills you. “Your turn,” he says, voice thick with lust. You settle more of your weight down onto his thigh and start rolling your hips, drawing your bottom lip in between your teeth.
Jason prods at your clit through your panties and you gasp, cunt pulsating as your hips stutter against the thick muscle in his thigh. “Keep going,” he murmurs, pressing down on your sensitive nub.
Eventually you start humping his leg, knees tightly locked around his big leg as you drag your sopping cunt up and down him, letting out hard pants as he draws quick circles over your clit. The friction of your panties against your clit sends shocks through you, cunt wishing it was full of something to clamp down onto. “J-Jason,” you sigh, fingers digging into his muscular shoulders.
“Right here, baby,” he mutters, kissing the underside of your jaw. “Just keep using me, pretty girl.” He groans quietly when you whimper, grinding down against him harder and faster.
He doesn’t let up on your clit, applying more pressure. You keep dragging your pussy around his legs, the pressure in the base of your belly building and building before-
“Jason!” You yelp, legs locking around his as you cum onto his thigh, body trembling. Jason holds you against him, hand smoothing down your back.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers, kissing your neck and rubbing your lower back. Your chest heaves and you let yourself fall limp against him, your legs finally relaxing around his.
You two stay like that for a few more minutes before the mess in your underwear becomes too unbearable to sit in anymore. You’re briefly embarrassed when you move off of him and have to peel your underwear from his leg, but the look he gives you sets your insides on fire and the embarrassment quickly dies. You grab a new pair of panties out of the drawer and pad into the bathroom to wash your hands and clean yourself off.
Jason eyes the spot in his leg with pride, a small smirking tugging at the corner of his lips. “What’s so funny?” You ask once you come back out of the bathroom, drying your hands on your tshirt.
“You just came on my leg.”
You blush and shyly crawl into your side of the bed, Jason immediately pulling your back against his chest. “Don’t act like your dick wasn’t pressed up against my ass all night,” you fire back. Jason just grunts and presses his hips forward, effectively shutting you up when you feel him again, mouth watering at the pressure.
“Thats what I thought,” Jason grumbles, arms tightening around you.
I’ll tell everyone Red Hood whimpers, you think to yourself, closing your eyes and letting sleep take over.
He doesn’t do flowers, or long speeches, or candlelit dinners — not because he doesn’t care, but because he’s the kind of man who shows love through quiet, ordinary moments. The kind that sneak up on you and stay.
୨ৎIt’s in the way he lingers at your doorway every time he leaves. Helmet in hand, voice gruff, eyes softer than he’ll ever admit.
“Lock the door behind me, yeah?”
You always do — but he still waits to hear the click before heading down the stairs. It’s his way of saying I love you, stay safe without actually saying it.
୨ৎHe learns your routines without trying to. Knows exactly when you need coffee, when you forget to eat, when you pretend you’re fine but aren’t.
So when you wake up after a rough night, there’s a mug already on the counter — strong, sweet, just the way you like it.
And if you ever say, “You didn’t have to,” he’ll just shrug, mutter,
“Didn’t say I had to. I wanted to.”
୨ৎJason never says much when it comes to feelings. But you start to notice the little things.
୨ৎHow he walks on the outside of the sidewalk every time you go out together.
୨ৎHow he presses a hand to your lower back to guide you through crowds — not possessive, just protective.
୨ৎHow he’ll hover near you when you’re distracted, subtly keeping you within arm’s reach.
You tease him about it once, and he just smirks.
“Old habits. Can’t turn ‘em off.”
୨ৎ He fixes things without being asked. The crooked shelf. The flickering light. The chair leg you swore you’d repair weeks ago.
୨ৎHe doesn’t make a show of it — just quietly gets it done while you’re not looking, leaving behind little traces of care only you’d recognize.
On patrol nights, when he’s out as Red Hood, he still finds time to send one message before radio silence
“Don’t wait up.”
You never listen, of course.
And when he finally returns — tired, bruised, helmet under his arm — he finds you asleep on the couch, blanket half-slipped off your shoulder.
He sighs, drops to a knee beside you, and pulls the blanket back over, brushing your hair out of your face.
His hand lingers there for a second longer than necessary.
You stir, eyes half-open.
“You’re back…”
“Yeah, sweetheart,” he whispers, voice rough but soft, “go back to sleep.”
He stays like that for a while — sitting on the floor beside the couch, gloved hand still loosely holding yours.
Sometimes he falls asleep there too, head resting near your arm, the city outside forgotten.
Jason Todd doesn’t love loudly.
He loves through acts of quiet devotion — in the way he keeps a first-aid kit stocked for your paper cuts, or how he memorizes your favorite diner order, or how he slips his jacket around your shoulders before you even realize you’re cold.
summary: jason loves coming home to you
genre: fluff
warnings/content: mention of crimes, gn reader, patrolling jason, established relationship
word count: 429
a/n: my first attempt at jason!! love him so much
throughout most his life, Jason only knew rough
the rough grip of his motorcycle handles, his rough skin, the rough freeze of Gotham’s streets
and everyday was the same.
patrolling in itself was easy for jason todd. stopping robberies, shutting down drug organizations, the occasional bullet duel. but overtime, the experiences feel a little bit heavier. it’ll drain anyone eventually— and god knows, jason isn’t immune to everything.
but that's only for him to know.
and for you to read through.
the apartment door creaks in the dead of night. the white paint chips off more with each movement, but jason and you agree it makes home more real.
to anyone else, your shared gotham apartment is shitty. it has one bedroom, one bathroom, and a cramped kitchen. it was more reminiscent of a motel.
all you and jason needed were a roof over your heads and each other. “that would be enough” he would say.
he carefully shifts the bedroom handle to the left, careful not to wake you.
but you’re like a hawk, already shuffling in the sheets as soon as he steps in.
“jay?” your voice is groggy and your hair is a mess. jason thinks you look perfect this way. the most beautiful.
the corner of his mouth begins to smile, “its me, didn't mean to wake you”
“s’ okay” you murmur, “I missed you”
jason sets his helmet on a nightstand, sitting on the corner of the bed. “I missed you more. you have no idea” he sighs, remembering the night he had endured
you’re fighting sleep, but you manage to open your eyes enough to see him— your jason. safe.
“im happy you’re in one piece”
he chuckles, “course I am, I don’t come home any other way.”
he runs his gloved hand through your hair, sweet and warm, despite his exterior
“I'm gonna shower, you should rest honey” he stands now, ready to walk out the room, but not before getting one final look at the angel in their shared bed.
you grumble “I guess. i’ll be here when-“ your consciousness slightly falters, “when you get-“ and your exhaustion fails you
jason smiles, a full one, endeared by you as always
“sleep well” he whispers, exiting the bedroom
jason todd knew rough very well.
maybe there was no escaping the way it’ll always linger in his life, but with you? jason is grateful to say he knows what gentle is too.
when patrol drains him, he knows he can land in your soft arms once it’s all over.
He can shove down his thoughts and emotions on his own.
He doesn't need good luck or a quick kiss before leaving for a mission he may not come back from.
He can stitch himself up perfectly fine in the filthy bathroom of one of his safe houses.
Yet here he was, crawling in through your apartment window like something your cat would've dragged in- soaked to the bone and covered head to toe in blood.
He's almost embarressed to say that most of it is his own.
He doesn't back down when you reach out with a gentle hand after perking up at the sound of his boots hitting the ground, though.
He knows better than to deny the only love he gets.
Sure, he doesn't need your help.
But he craves it.
He craves those gentle touches that only come when the lights are so dim that your bodies are concealed.
He craves the way you put just a bit too much sugar in his coffee, telling him to have a "sweet day."
He craves the kisses you pepper all along every new scar and bruise.
Jason seems like a snob. He's the type of person def notices if people say they like books or if the like literature and gets very VERY heated when it comes to his opinions on his favorites reads. Who quotes Shakespeare and reads George Orwell.
All in all though, Jason just has a real passion for books.
Jason's experiences heavily shape his reading tastes as he gets older and would rely heavily on books that he read at certain times of his life. Each page holding the scent of time lost, each word carrying a moment of time that had faded into the recesses of his mind. Warped by time and pain.
That's why I do think he would stick to the same books for a while. But as he starts dating you he would want to know what you were reading.
Jason is slow to get close. Feeling a conflict of his deepest emotions when it came to intimacy. Putting down his guard had never garnered much success from him. He loves hard, which makes the hurt harder.
Sharing a passion like reading would add a safety net. Allowing him to feel close without feeling like he needed to keep you fully at arms length.
To him their is a certain intimacy that comes with sharing your favorite reads. Not just reads that were a 3 star and forgotten in the next few months. But a book that holds weight. That's cover that almost imprints the loving look you bestow upon it, and that's words are scouring over with underlines and notes.
He loves to go to the library late at night. When the lights are cozy and the crowds have long since passed. only leaving behind the faint feeling a buzz in the old worn wooden shelves.
Jason finds it touching to just read in silence. A shared surrender to the quiet atmosphere.
Jason gets this super cute look when he reads. Focused yet relaxed. Allowing the story to lull him into its world and lead him as close to peace as he will ever get under the weight of his past.
Jason LOVES to walk around the book store of library and act as your personal shopping cart. Carrying however many books you pick up as if they were nothing with zero complaint. He just adores to see you passing through the isles and literally judging books by their covers. He will recommend books sometimes. For the most part though unless you ask he just stays as a quiet observer, Never quite feeling like he fits in with such a human moment. Feeling if he is too loud or noticeable that the moment will pass. That he will wake up, moments with you turning into a haze as he realizes it was all just a figment of his own imagination. His mind torturing him with what he feels he can never have. Or maybe someone will see him and realize that he does not belong here. Does not belong around people with a goodness that follows them like a sunflower follows the suns rays. Does not belong in the land of the living and should be incased in soul and lost dreams. Does not belong here with you smiling at him like who he is and what he's done are not etched into the pores of his skin and fabric of his being, because he knows that soft look should have never been meant for someone like him. Not without earning it. So he carry's your books in the hopes it will be enough to justify his presence. To justify your love and his joy.
On a similar vein Jason will not let you pay. Ever. He gets very upset if you try to sneak off and buy books without him. Why would you ever need to spend your own money? Do you not need him anymore? He tries to see it from your perspective. Its not that he does not believe you per say when you tell him you don't want to be a burden or spend all his money on things for you, he just cant help but keep doing it. Dropping hundreds on your reading habits. Truth of the matter is he just loves to see physical signs of things he does for you. From paying for your apartment, to seeing the new copy of "Madonna in a fur coat" he purchased for you last week laying on the coffee table he built for you. Knowing anyone who comes into your space will see traces of him.
A big step in your relationship would be him giving you an annotated copy of his favorite books. So much of him poured out on page like a mirror into him he never thought he would ever think to offer anyone. But as his hands brush yours, passing you the worn copy he realizes you are not just anyone. This act is an act of adoration not without the absence of fear. Its a fight, a declaration. Against his past, his nature, and everything that tells him to never expose his rapture at being an active part in your life. Telling you silently with a fervor that he will not let himself shut you out. It may seems small. To some it would only look like old, worn, bound paper. To him though it was a leap, and he prayed more than anything that you would take his hand and not let him fall.
Jason took your child to patrol, and has the audacity to tease you with "Be good for me" aka Jason x fanfic reader!reader
It can be read standalone, but if you want here's: Pt.1 Pt.2
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Your daughter has learned a new trick; opening your phone and texting her dad.
[An audio of lilac saying icew-cream and 10 seconds of silence]
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Jason's out as Redhood patrolling when his phone buzzes. He's rational, he knows he can't just take his daughter out, esp not when he's supposed to be patrolling. But his child just wants an ice-cream, and what kind of father would refuse his child a little sweet treat? He'll ask Roy to handle things for a while.
Jason has your apartment's spare keys, he knows exactly how to enter without waking you up - and taking off with lily.
They both went to her favourite ice-cream parlour, with those huge cones. As they ate, his phone buzzed again, it was Roy asking him to come back asap.
And as if on que, his phone rang again, you had woken up in the middle of the night, and lilac not being there made your blood run cold.
You heard a knock on your door and saw Jason with lilac in his arms, her fingers dripping with chocolate.
"Lilac!" You instantly hugged her, swallowing the words "wtf is wrong with you Jason, i'd like to re-divorce you for this alone." because you both had established early on that fighting infront of her was a no-no.
"She wanted ice-cream" Jason says in the most polite sweetest voice he can use. "Me wanted ice-cream" lilac repeats after him.
Going closer to Jason "She wants to eat her teddy-bear too at times." you said softly, yet Jason could feel the anger radiating off of you.
"Do you know those real-or-cake realistic cakes? She can technically have her teddy bear." Jason added, while shrugging, teasing her right now was the worse move he could pull right now, but such a fun move.
"We.can.not.spoil.her.this.much.baby." You replied, quietly yet putting emphasis on every word, putting your hand on his chest.
"Keep her safe, I'll be back in a while." He said, smiling, keeping their favourite snacks on the table. "Be good for me, both of you." he said before leaving, slamming the door shut.
God, you hated this man, hated that you once showed him your favourite fanfics, and hated how he knew exactly how to get on your nerves.
Lilac loved repeating her daddy as she too said, "Be good" causing you to laugh, "we're individuals baby, we use our own words okay?" You said ruffling her hair.
"Winwiidiuvals?" she replied, making you laugh again.
You were mad at Jason, cause you knew Gotham, but you knew his intention was just to make sure she had a good childhood, and he sometimes just went overboard with it.
But he wasn't just a spoiler, he'd also let her help him around with things, you once saw him teaching her about parts of the car so you weren't the most concerned.
Independent and capable, were ofcourse big words for just a kid, but you knew Jason would raise her to be that and more.
And as you tucked lily back to bed, knowing that Jason will come right back after patrol. He'll cook your favourite breakfast in the morning as apology, and you'd get to grill him about laying off of these sheningans.
Birthdays? Childish nonsense. What grown adult seriously celebrates that stuff? Jason had kept his birthday under wraps like classified intel. And if you hadn't accidentally (or maybe not so accidentally) uncovered the date... Well, let's just say curiosity has always been your strong suit.
You knew you'd surprised him the second his face froze in pure, unfiltered shock. Not for long, though. He pulled himself together almost immediately. Almost.
And there you stood, holding a tiny chocolate cupcake crowned with a single pink candle. Maybe the candle was overkill, but... cute, right?
Jason dragged a hand through his hair, only managing to mess it up further. He wasn't the type to fuss in front of a mirror — not like some prissy socialite. His fingers caught in the unruly strands, making them stick up even more. The faint flush creeping over his cheekbones? That was a dead giveaway. And he hated it.
"Uh... Thanks. But this is unnecessary, sweetheart."
His voice was rough, deliberately gruff. Heard the way it wavered, just slightly, on that last word.
You didn’t answer. Just smirked.
"So you're an August boy!"
He grimaced like he'd bitten into something sour, and you couldn’t help grinning.
Jason scrubbed a hand over his face — a gesture meant to look annoyed but that only betrayed his discomfort.
"Damn it..." he muttered under his breath before collapsing into a chair like his legs had given out.
You didn’t let him recover.
"Make a wish, Jason."
Your voice came out softer than you’d intended. Nearly a whisper. You leaned in, lips brushing his cheek — light, fleeting. But enough to make him tense like he’d been zapped.
"This is stupid."
"Jason!"
You pinched his nose not hard, but enough to convince him to be... obedient for a while.
"Fine, fine! My wish is simple. You know — kill J…"
You didn’t let him finish. Your hand slapped over his mouth, and you felt his breath grow hot against your palm, his lips moving under your touch.
"Hey! Make a real wish, you stubborn ass!"
He rolled his eyes, but the ghost of a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, of course you don't see it..
"Alright... alright..."
Red Hood hums into your palm, and the scene becomes comical. He pretended to think, but you knew — he’d already decided. He just wouldn’t say it.
You broke off a piece of the cupcake. Crumbs scattered across the table, leaving chocolate smudges. He sighed but obediently opened his mouth.
You placed the piece between his lips, and for a second, his mouth closed around your fingers. He can already taste the dark chocolate on his tongue. His tongue accidentally touches your fingertips. It's warm...
You freeze. So did Jason. You look stealthily, afraid to open your eyes wide. He stares at you. The next thing happens very soon, otherwise it would never have happened, at least not like this. His hand was at the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer. Gentle. But leaving no room for retreat. You didn’t resist. The first kiss was cautious, testing, like he still wasn’t sure this was real. You kissed him back, and he tilted his head, deepening it, his breath mingling with yours, the taste of chocolate lingering between you.
When you finally broke apart, he didn’t let go right away. His forehead stayed pressed to yours, his breathing uneven.
"Wish granted, sweetheart."
His voice was rough, low, and it sent shivers down your spine.
He stood and took a step, increasing the space between you, and walked on, heading to his kitchen to put on the kettle as if nothing had happened.
You watched him go, your lips still tingling.
And as he turned away, he muttered under his breath.
"Happy birthday to me..."
Jason touched his lips, boyish and unsure, where the ghost of your kiss still lingered. For the first time, a birthday brought something warm, like the light on her pink wax candle.
a/n: It's our august lion's birthday! i wrote this scene relatively quickly, in honor of jason's birthday !!
