The Ones Without Packs

((Gifs used are not mine unless stated other wise)) SLIGHTLY SELECTIVE NSFW content will be present sometimes under read mores and sometimes not ALL NSFW THINGS WILL BE TAGGED USFW. WILL NOT RP SMUT WITH MINORS. Mun is 30)) Welcome to the home of the insanity, just kidding, but it does get really crazy around here since there's so many of us living under the same roof. ((MULTIVERSE, MULTICHARACTER MULTIFANDOM ROLE PLAY BLOG. FCs used: Jensen Ackles, Steven R. McQueen, Coltan Haynes, Nina Dobrev, Matthew Daddario, Dylan O'Brien, Cody Christian, Dominic Sherwood, Cody Saintgnue, Danielle Rose Russell, Gal Gadot, Tyler Posey, Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, Hero Fiennes Tiffin, Bob Morley, Brandon Flynn, Margot Robbie, Michael Trevino, Skeet Ulrich and Tyler Hoechlin. I do not own any of these people nor am I claiming to be them.)) Discord- theoneswithoutpacks#9117

[theoneswithoutpacks]

Updated Muses List/Pinned Post

Dean Winchester

Em Tyler (OC)

Stiles Stilinski

Beau Raeken (OC)

Alex Claremont-Diaz

Prince Henry

Jason Todd

Roy Harper

Emmett Winchester (OC)

Beau Swan (Life and Death Twilight reimagined)

Fox Storm (OC)

Jaxson Atlas (OC)

Jace Herondale

Ben Winchester

Eddie Talbot (OC)

Kaiden Whitlock (OC)

Fallon Nightshade (OC)

Scott McCall

Desmond “Dez” Hellfire (OC)

Dallas James Claremont-Diaz-Fox (OC)

Rules

Ask

Opens

Memes

Starter Calls

Discord

Submit

Master List

[sirxlla]

𝑾𝒉𝒚 𝑨𝒓𝒆𝒏'𝒕 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑯𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑴𝒚 𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑻𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒅 (𝑫𝒊𝒄𝒌, 𝑱𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏, 𝑫𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒂𝒏)

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: angst, fluff, illudes to spicy time

𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕: Batboys X Readers, (Dick, Jason, Damian) They're always of age

𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: female reader, italics are actions and thoughts

[ 𝑹𝑬𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑺 𝑶𝑷𝑬𝑵 ]

-𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅, 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒖𝒕-

𝑫𝑰𝑪𝑲: Both you and Dick had decided the perfect idea for date night was making cookies together, and now there's a mess everywhere as he tries to roll out the dough flat onto the counter. Your eyes shine in the kitchen's lighting, happier than you both had been in a while, with how often Dick had been going to Bludhaven.

"You think this is thin enough?" He asks sarcastically as he shows you how sticky the dough is, working at it to thin it out a little more. For some reason, you burst into giggles where everything and everything is hilarious.

"You know what, I have a very important question Why aren't you holding my hand?" You ask as your giggles calm down, seeing how dirty his hands are, covered in wet cookie bits.

"Oh, you wanna hold my hand, Darling?" He teases and holds his hands out towards your face like he's gonna put them on your cheeks.

"No! No!" You giggle, grabbing his wrists before he can put them on your face.

"Too late." He smears cookie along your cheek, not noticing as you grab some cookie of your own and mash some in his hair.

"Oh, that's how you wanna play?" He asks as he grabs some flower, shoving it down your top, causing you to gasp even as you giggle.

"No, you don't!" Trying to shove some cookie mix down his pants now, but he's quicker than you, grabbing your hips and pulling you to him before kissing you deeply.

"We should shower, you know cause we're dirty no other reason..." Wagging his eyebrows with a smirk.

"Oh, you don't wanna see me naked or any other reason?" Fluttering your lashes, exaggerating it just cause you think it's funny.

"Oh, believe me, I always wanna get you naked." He says as he peels your shirt off, as he guides you to the bathroom, stripping bits of your clothes off as you both make your way there; the cookies were the last thing on his mind.

𝑱𝑨𝑺𝑶𝑵: "No, Babe. The other wrench." He reaches out a hand from where he's lying under the Batmobile; his hands are covered in grease and oil. You wanted to spend time with him even if it is just proximity since he's preoccupied. Your hand brushes his as you hand him the other wrench he had lying out; your smile widens as you remember the trend you saw online of people asking their partners when they're busy why they aren't holding their hand as a joke.

"Jay, why aren't you holding my hand?" You whine as he goes to tighten something under the Batmobile, clearly unable to hold your hand.

"Angel, I'd love to hold your hand, but I'm a little busy at the moment, and my hands are covered in gunk." He speaks up, having to talk louder cause of where he's at, tightening another bolt while trying to hold the flashlight cause his headlamp is charging.

"Fine, I'm sure Roy will hold my hand."

"No! No! No! Babygirl!?" He knows you wouldn't do anything, and neither would Roy, but Jason gets jealous sometimes, and he quickly tries to roll out from under the Batmobile on the little backboard he's on, but he accidentally dings his head on it.

"Oh, Baby!" You laugh and rush over to check his forehead, instantly getting pulled into his lap as if not to give you a chance to go to Roy to hold your hand.

"Is this sufficient, You Sexy Beautiful Pain in My Ass?" He pulls you even closer, pecking your lips, almost telling you only with actions to try it again and see what happens, not caring that now both of you are dirty. He just smirks and holds you close.

𝑫𝑨𝑴𝑰𝑨𝑵: Training as always because what else would he be doing? He's been at it for over three hours, and you're exceedingly bored. Of course he's fit and all, but he focuses on it so much it becomes annoying. At this point, you wouldn't mind if he gained a few pounds because you could enjoy ice cream together or burgers or something. He's built like a chunk of marble, and again, while that's great and all, he doesn't spend nearly enough time being your boyfriend.

"Dami, why aren't you holding my hand?" He doesn't hear you, no surprise. You just wanted to ask really anything to see if he was paying attention. "Dame, it's been hours. You could be doing something less productive with me; take a break." You whine, just a little tired of just existing near him and him calling it "spending time together."

"This is more productive; this is me keeping the city and you safe."

"The city and me can go fuck themselves; I want time with you." But he doesn't hear you as he's gone back into running the simulation again, so you leave. It isn't but thirty minutes later until he looks up to see if you just saw how he handled himself in the sim, but you're not there.

"Babe?" He asks, confused as he takes off his headset, rushing to where you might be, seeing you on the couch in the living room watching a movie you two planned to watch together tonight.

"You didn't wait for me?"

"Damian, I've waited hours while you train. You promised to spend time together tonight, not just me watching you train all night." You say as you pull the blanket further around yourself. Damian's eyes flit from the TV to your face and how dejected you look, how disappointed. You'd never tell him how upset you are about this cause it feels a bit childish, but it doesn't change how he can see it all over your face.

"Okay, how about I order snacks and dinner, I go shower, and when I get out we can spend all night together. I'll call off my patrol. Then we can cuddle all night, okay?" He kneels and whispers into your hair, kissing your neck softly. He doesn't move, rubbing your hip through the fuzzy blanket til you nod.

"I know, I'm an asshole, Honey. I get so wrapped up in protecting you, especially what happened with Deathstroke, that I just forget that you also need me to help you heal over it abd not just a bodyguard." He kisses your temple carefully, grabbing his phone to order all the movie night stuff you guys usually get, and he rubs your neck as he does.

"I'll be back in like thirty minutes, okay? Yeah? Alright." He speaks so softly before moving down the hall to go shower and process his disappointment in himself.

-> 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

[strawberryscribblesandwrites]

Jason todd texts pt.1?

Fluff nothing to bad just trying to test out this readers personality lol <3

[kimberly-spirits13]

🍿The Popcorn Tribunal🍿

Pairing: Jason Todd x reader

-- Jason takes you to the manor for movie night, but instead of a chill movie night like any regular family has, it's an initiation test into the Batfamily--

Warnings: not proof read yet 🤭

Word Count: 1470

art by @ciricearts

“So, what- is this some kind of cult initiation?’ You ask.

You and Jason are clad in your pajamas, shuffling down one of the seemingly never-ending hallways of Wayne Manor, with a hoard of blankets and pillows in both of your arms. 

“Yeah basically.” He snickered. 

“I feel like I should be concerned. This is scarier than fighting the whole of Arkham.” You spare a glance at him before pausing before entering the theatre room.

“Meh, just don’t think about it too hard. If anything, Dickwad will take embarrassing pictures, and Tim will fall asleep within the first 10 minutes.”

As if summoned, Dick walks around the corner, an armful of blankets and pillows in his hands as well. Cheerfully he looks at the two of you, beaming with a teasing look towards Jason.

 “I see you two lovebirds have raided Jason’s room for blankets. I assumed you’d be warm enough snuggling together-“ Dick wiggled his eyebrows at Jason before stumbling back when Jason kicks out his legs.

“Very funny Richard.” Jason rolls his eyes, “I’d be more concerned about keeping on your feet than how my girlfriend and I sleep.” 

You shake your head with a small smile across your face before quickly moving past the two and plopping the pile of blankets in your arms onto one of the air mattresses set up and begin placing them however you see fit. Jason follows closely behind you, settling his things next to you before landing firmly on the mattress next to you. 

“Master Jason, your usual popcorn as requested.” Alfred walked over swiftly, handing a popcorn bucket to Jason, “And one for you Miss.” 

You smile and take the bucket from him, “Thank you Alfred.” 

“Y/N, what do you think we should watch?” 

The room goes quiet as Bruce steps in, looking at you for an answer. You can feel everyone’s eyes on you and Jason reaches to place a hand on your thigh. 

“Well- I mean what’s the mood?” You ask looking at everyone for any sort of help. Picking a movie shouldn’t be as daunting as the Wayne family seemed to make it. This was far more intense than any training could have prepared you for. 

“We’re not super picky,” Dick says feigning an innocent smile, “just whatever you think is good.”

You raise your brow in suspicion, picking up on the poorly disguised lie. With Jason’s very pointed taste in literature and movies, there was no way his family felt any differently.

“I assume a serious mystery or crime movie in this family probably doesn’t go over well.” You glance towards Tim who shifts uncomfortably knowing that the comment was pointed towards his reputation of critiquing every crime movie under the sun, “I’m assuming horror movies aren’t everyone’s preferred genre.”

Alfred nods in agreement, looking towards Bruce as if communicating telepathically. You continue listing off genres, thinking out loud hoping that you were passing whatever test this obviously was. Looking at Jason, you search his eyes for any support before finally breathing out and settling on an answer.

“I guess with all that in mind, we watch a classic more family leaning movie. We could do The Princess Bride or Swallows and Amazons, the one from 1974 of course.” You hold your breath in anticipation of whatever would happen.

Maybe this was the time where the family decides that you fail whatever initiation this is and hunt you for sport. Maybe your popcorn is secretly poisoned, and they only give you the antidote if you give the correct answer. Your thoughts race at the most likely improbable outcomes of any sort of failure. It’s only when Bruce speaks up that you are snatched from the newest idea of your demise that you’ve conjured up.

“No one’s ever suggested Swallows and Amazons.” He says with a pause. 

It’s like he knows you’re about to implode with anticipation of whatever comes next. He nods before an approving smile slips across his face, “I think that’s an excellent idea.” 

Jason pats your leg almost with the same relief that you feel as you finally breathe out a sigh of relief. His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you close as you soak in his warmth.

The movie begins and you feel like you can begin to relax, letting your legs tangle with Jason’s as he drums his fingers against your back. Eventually, he picks up a kernel of popcorn and taps it against your mouth, popping it in when you open. 

“Holy shit Jason- did you want some popcorn with that butter?” You look up at him to see him grinning down at you.

“That’s the way to do it doll. You don’t appreciate my taste popcorn?” He cocks his head to one side and reaches to pop another piece into your mouth.

“What I appreciate,” You say, “is not dying of congestive heart failure.” 

“Do not worry,” Your head shoots to where Damian is sitting as he pipes up, “You would need to consume approximately 362 more sticks of butter before your demise. That is, unless the amount of salt Todd slathers on his popcorn causes cellular dehydration first.” 

You stare at him, mouth agape before quickly recovering with a fit of laughter, “Thank you for that information, Damian. I will be sure to properly manage my butter and salt intake from here on.” 

In the flickering light of the film, you swear that you can see a small smirk appear on his otherwise stoic face. Stephanie tosses an M&M at you to get your attention, earning a glare from Jason who was popped in the cheek by the ricochet. You and Stephanie snicker as he takes the offending projectile and begins to eat it, aggressively chomping the chocolate candy to demonstrate his annoyance.

“Don’t worry diva. We wouldn’t let you die of something like butter.” She says, “That’s like, almost as embarrassing as almost being drowned by Condiment King.” 

Stephanie reaches to fist bump you as Dick’s head pops out of a fort of blankets like an offended prairie dog.

“Hey! That was a very traumatic incident, Stephanie!” His hand was perched against his chest indignantly, “We agreed never to discuss that again!” 

You laughed hard, clutching onto Jason’s arm, “Condiment King, Dick? Really?” 

“In my defense, he upgraded his equipment! I’ve never seen more mustard in my life!” Dick threw his hands up in the air trying to defend himself, “I still can’t eat a hotdog without a chill going down my spine.”

The room begins to burst into laughter before Tim finally cracks an eye open, rejoining the world of the living.                    “Could you guys keep it down? We’re trying to watch the movie” Sleep forces Tim’s eyes closed.

“I didn’t know you had installed a tv screen in your eyelids Timmy.” Stephanie says earning a groan from Tim before he promptly fell back asleep.

The movie continued without further incident, and you settled comfortably against Jason. 

“Do you think I passed my initiation test?” You whispered.

“With flying colors.” He says, quietly pressing a kiss against the top of your head. 

His hand rubs up and down your arm, lulling you to sleep. You feel his gaze lingering, a welcomed comfort after whatever you just had to do. Jason felt your body totally relax and breathing even out. He settled in closer, wrapping both arms around you and holding you firmly against his chest. 

“Awwww you two are the cutest!” He heard Dick whisper yell from across the room.

“Can it Dickhead.”

The next morning you and Jason were still asleep as everyone else began waking up. Your head was tucked under his chin, shielding your eyes from any light that could have disrupted your sleep. His nose rests against your head and your hands are wrapped around his bicep as if you pulled him closer in sleep. 

Quiet chatter fills the room just enough to keep the two of you from waking up.

“I like her!” Dick whispered excitedly, “I mean look at them, they’re so cute” 

Bruce nods ever so slightly observing the reactions of everyone else.

“I’ve never seen Jason sleep that hard.” Stephanie says, “I feel like I could poke him and-“

“Stephanie.” Bruce says sternly, “I’d like to avoid unnecessary hospital visits.” 

“I shall begin to prepare breakfast. I suggest we leave the two alone until food is prepared.” Alfred says wisely, “I think pancakes are in order.”

Dick spins around quickly, “Alfred’s famous pancakes?” “The first time I brought someone back we didn’t get pancakes!”

“We’ll leave you to solve that mystery chum.” Bruce begins to head out of the room before Tim finally gets up out of his blanket nest to follow.

“The first time you brought someone over we considered permanently banning you from dating Dick.” Tim said, “You didn’t get pancakes because no one liked your date. We like Y/N, so her visits get pancakes.” 

Dick paused, thinking for a moment, “fair.” 

Ps- I’m trying a slightly different format style for the heading and stuff so if you notice it’s different, that’s why 😂

[gothamgraveyard]

"Your dad is really fucking sexy"

Blurbs; Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Duke Thomas x reader (who is wilding for some unknown reason)

Summary: You happen to see Bruce Wayne on TV, and you let your boyfriend know you'd so bang his dad.

TW: Two are pure smut, no dark themes (I don't do that :p), the other two are kind of smutty. So read at your own risk. Minors dni.

A/n: The girls are going to be in part 2, I have not forgotten about them I promise.

DICK GRAYSON

You squint at the TV, then lean up to whisper right against Dick’s ear, “You know… I’d so fuck your dad.”

Dick freezes mid-stroke through your hair. He blinks, letting out a snicker that quickly turns into a gasp of betrayal when he realizes you’re serious.

“You what?” he sputters, clutching his chest like you just plunged a batarang into his sternum. “Babe. No. Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on,” you tease, running a hand down his stomach and lightly pulling at the waistband of his sweatpants. “Look at him! He’s totally sexy.”

“He’s an old man with back pain!” Dick squawks, grabbing your wrist, though he doesn't actually stop you from slipping your hand lower. “I am literally the younger and hotter one! Your eyes should be on ME”

You trail your fingers over his boner, making his breath hitch. “But there’s just something about a guy who could snap me in half”

“I can snap you in half right now!” he choked out, pinning your hands above your head, straddling your lap. “I have spent hours fucking you into this mattress until you scream my name, and you’re sitting here fantasizing about the man who grounded me for three weeks in high school? Your the worst!”

“I’m just saying the jawline’s delicious,” you smirk, bucking up against him.

Dick groans and dramatically throws his head back before leaning down to bite your neck  “Shut up,” he hisses against your skin, sliding his hand under your shirt to cup your breast, his thumb rolling over your nipple. “You’re taking my dick tonight, not his. And I’m going to make you apologize for every word of that blasphemy while I’m deep inside you.”

“So… no father-son double team?” you whisper innocently.

“I am going to choke you,” Dick laughs, wildly turned on, his lips hot against yours. “Babe, seriously. Never say that shit again”

JASON TODD

You tilt your head, tracing a thumb over Jason’s heavily calloused knuckles. “You know… I’d totally fuck your dad.”

Jason doesn't even pause his cleaning cloth. He just slowly exhales through his nose, his eyes fixated on the slide of his gun.

“Mhm. Yeah, totally, babe,” he says dryly. “You’re definitely not just spewing bullshit to try to get under my skin and score a nice fuck.”

You roll your eyes, digging your hip into his thigh. “I’m serious! He’s so fucking sexy!”

“Babe,” Jason cuts in, finally tossing the rag onto the coffee table with a thud. He looks down at you, a smirk pulling at the corner of his scarred lips. “If you want me to tie you to the bedpost and rearrange your guts, you just have to ask. You don’t need to bring the old man’s midlife crisis into my living room.”

“I’m just saying, he’s got that physique going for him and thos– ah!”

Before you can finish the sentence, Jason’s hands shoot out, grabbing your hips and tossing you onto your back on the sofa cushions. The weight of him presses down on you in a heartbeat, his knee shoving your legs apart as he looms over you.

“Yeah? You like the physique?” he mocks, his hand snaking up your thigh, bunching up your skirt until his calloused palm is flush against your panties. “You want someone to make you shut your smart fucking mouth?”

Your breath hitches, your cunt throbbing instantly. “Maybe.”

“You’re a dirty little instigator,” he mutters against your lips, biting your lower lip hard enough to make you moan before pushing your panties to the side. “Thinking about my dad while sitting on my lap? That’s sick. I’m gonna have to rail you until you forget your own name, just to clear out the fucking mental picture.”

“Promises, promises,” you gasp as his palm grinds over your clit.

Jason chuckles darkly “Shut up and lift your hips. Let’s see if Bruce could make you scream half as loud as I’m about to.”

TIM DRAKE

You lean forward, resting your chin on Tim’s shoulder. “You know… I’d so bang your dad.”

He sighs and turns his head, dark circles under his eyes, staring at you like you just spoke in ancient Sumerian.

“I thought you hated him,” Tim says, his voice flat with utter bewilderment. “You literally hated him yesterday!”

“That was yesterday,” you hum, sliding onto his lap and straddling his thighs. “Today, I’m noticing the jawline. He’s a silver fox, Timmy. So fucking fine”

“What is wrong with you?” Tim groans, slamming his laptop shut as his hands automatically catch your waist. “You have such a dirty mind! He’s my father figure!”

“I bet he’s dominant,” you whisper, running your fingers through Tim’s messy hair, sliding down his neck to tug at his collar. “Probably takes what he wants.”

Tim’s jaw tightens, a flush creeping up his neck that isn't entirely from anger. “Are you trying to get under my skin? Because it’s working. It’s working really well, and not in the way you think, you absolute menace.”

“Oh yeah?” You grind your hips down against him, feeling the hard length already pressing against his jeans. “You look pretty bothered, Drake.”

“I’ve been awake working on this case, and now my partner is telling me they want to get bent over by my boss,” Tim huffs. He tilts your chin up, his eyes sharp. “You think he’s dominant? Are you sick of riding me? What is this? I could be on top” he argued, defensively 

“Prove it,” you smirk.

Tim huffs petulantly, spinning the chair around and pinning you back against his desk, scattering files everywhere. His hand slides roughly under your thigh, hooking over your knee to pull you wide open for him.

DUKE THOMAS crashing out why is there no yellow

You squint at the screen, running a hand up Duke’s inner thigh. “You know… I’d so do your dad.”

Duke’s thumbs stills on the controller. His character immediately gets blasted off a cliff, but he doesn't even care. He drops the controller into his lap, staring at you in horrified disbelief.

“Ew, babe! That is disgusting!” Duke yelps, as he shoves your hand back. “What brought that on?? Where is this coming from? Are you ovulating? Is your brain leaking? What is happening right now?!”

“I’m just observing facts!” you laugh, wiggling closer and hooking your leg over his waist. “You can’t tell me he wouldn’t know exactly what to do with—”

“Do not finish that sentence!” Duke groans, slapping his hands over his ears. “That is my father. A man who goes to bed at five in the morning and drinks black coffee like it’s water.”

“I’m just saying, the broad ass shoulders and jawline?” You smirk up at him, bucking your hips slightly against his. “It’s hot.”

“You know what’s actually hot?” Duke rolls his eyes, his tone growing slightly arrogant. He leans down, his chest crushing against yours, his knee shoving right between your legs to press hard against your cunt. “The guy holding you who can go for three rounds without taking a breath. The guy who literally bends you over this sofa every weekend.”

Your breath hitches as his thigh grinds upward, right through your shorts. “Oh, so now you’re competitive?”

“I’m not competitive, I’m offended,” Duke mutters against your neck, nipping hard at the curve where your shoulder meets your collarbone. His free hand slides down, ripping your shorts down your hips until his warm calloused palm is cupping you bare and dripping. “You want someone who can barely keep his dick up? When you have me?”

A/n: to my moots. the demons possessed me into writing this. im so much more than js horny i swear.

On another note, I put 'Dick' into the tags and the first thing that popped up was 'dick growth spell'. what are men on tumblr doing.

[strawberryscribblesandwrites]

THINK FAST!!! Pt.2!!!

Batboys see a video of you using your odd self defense weapon ... (Jason todd, bruce wayne, dick grayson, tim drake)

thank you for all the love on the last one I'm a lil socked tbh :3

[strawberryscribblesandwrites]

THINK FAST!!!

The batboys find an odd choice of self defense in your bag.. (Jason todd, bruce wayne, dick grayson and tim drake)

Look at me double posting lol <3

Part 2 <3

[strawberryscribblesandwrites]

Eyes eyes eyes

Your not so subtly giving them bedroom eyes. (Jason todd, bruce wayne, dick grayson,tim drake) (extra roy harper, john constantine)

[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.

[loomingspector]

Part 30 of De aged Bruce part 1

The name Robin fit Dick Grayson in many ways.

A small chirping, energetic and colorful little ball of fluff was exactly how the entire circus would describe the child. Once you caught a glimpse of him sitting peacefully, he would at most stay like that for a second or two before fluttering away.

His energy was what defined him, along with his stubbornness and curiosity. If he got an idea, he would most likely try it out first before figuring out the logistics of the jump or stunt.

Try, try again.

This mindset didn't exactly translate well into the prim and proper glass birdcage that was upper classes of Gotham. Still clinging vaguely to the old world of nobles and commoners, the almost stark contrast to how one was supposed to act to make sure that you were set apart from those 'lesser' than.

The Wayne family was a peculiar existence in that cage.

It balanced between being one of the founding families of Gotham, being top of the nobility and also being one of the leading companies on a national scale. It was also one of the biggest advocators for high tax, equal social standing and educational opportunities for everyone and not only the ones who had the funds. Making sure that everyone who is willing to put in the effort will see results, in opposed to simply having to stay in the status quo.

Dick had heard about them before, seen the interviews on the television even when traveling the world. Hearing the name whispered in private parties with money enough to hire an entire circus for a small gathering. "The Waynes expanded into another new avenue." "The Waynes made another charity fund again." "The Wayne family is trying to push a bill to raise minimum wage again."

When he finally met the man who had inherited the name far too young, he didn't know what he was expecting. Being treated like a charity case or a lost dog to be blessed with pity by the elite, or maybe a snotty socialite who had only always been pampered by those around them, never really seeing the real sides of the world.

He certainly didn't expect the man to look on the verge of tears whenever Dick felt his own feelings spilling over the line. He didn't expect him to almost cling to him like the man did, almost desperate to be present in his life, even when it was met with so much anger.

He bought whatever Dick wanted, redid his room to whatever theme of the month had interested him. Space, the zoo, the sea, Superman, some more space, some more superheroes, specifically Superman. The painters and movers were on speed dial to keep up with his new ideas for what his room should be.

He even gave in when it came to wanting to join Batman's side.

So, it was only a matter of time before someone put a stop to it.

"Master Dick! How dare you use that sort of language!" The voice echoed up through the rather large stairwell, but the footsteps stopped at the bottom. While the pitter patter of Dick's small shoes continued through the halls, before stopping right before the large dark mahogany door. The way leading to the man who would never deny him anything even when he desperately wanted to.

"Bruce!" The door slammed hard into the bookcase by the wall as it was pushed open. Bruce flinched slightly by the noise.

"What is it, Chum?" He flipped close whatever documents he was working on and rubbed his face free from the fatigue leftover from the day. "Was that Alfred I could hear?"

"He wanted me to start those dumb classes with him again."

"Etiquette?"

"Eddy... whatever, yes, that." He waved his hand dramatically as he flung himself over the back of the sofa in the office. No comment was made on his shoes still being on after he had no doubt been running around with Ace in the garden all day like normal.

"It's Etti-quette," he tried sounding it out and got another dramatic handwave in return over the small cashmere wall separating the two. "and Alfred is only trying to prepare you if you were to ever join me at a party."

"Did you take those classes too?" Maybe he didn't, and he was just naturally born to figure all of this out, maybe the idea of blue blood was real.

"I did. Sometimes he reminds me of the right fork to use even now." Damn.

A groan and throw of a couple pillows, followed by a small chuckle from the desk, the air in the room lifted ever so slightly.

"Alfred said I was even more unruly than even you were." Dick mumbled, the tight feeling in his chest flourished once more, making his throat feel tight. "That he at least knew how to properly deal with you." The silence that continued didn't lessen the pressure.

A hand fell on his shoulder, almost startling him enough the throw a punch, he didn't even notice when he had closed his eyes.

Bruce's eyes were slightly wide, and his smile was tight around the edges, the hand on his shoulder releasing and tightened as the man looked like he was searching for the right words. "This is important, Chum. Did he say anything else?"

Dick felt a newfound heat rise to his face. "Do you not believe me?!"

He pushed up from the sofa, pushing away the hand, scrambling up over the sofa's back again, resetting the wall between him.

"I'm not saying that. I just need all the facts..."

"You're taking his side again!"

"I'm not, Chum, I'm on your side. I just-"

"You're on his side!" The screech made Bruce wince, put he still tried to move towards the child.

Dick didn't stay to listen if he came with more excuses.

The memory stayed with him, for different reasons as the time passed. It truly felt like Bruce was turning his back to him, not believing his words over Alfred's, which, logically would make sense, Dick hadn't even been there more than a few months, of course Bruce would believe his stand-in father over him. It didn't make the betrayal hurt any less.

When he, days later, heard an almost pleading voice from The Batman, he changed his view.

"You can't teach him like you taught me. It's different."

"He is no less unruly."

"Alfred, please."

"His temper-"

"I'll handle it!"

"Master Bruce." A certain force was pushed into the word.

"Sorry sorry, for interrupting, Alfred." A pause. "I'll handle Dick's integration into society. I'll bare the responsibility."

"I'm only trying to assist."

"Please."

The quiet kind of exasperated huff was the answer.

If Dick had done the same he would no doubt had gotten a rather pointed stare, or even lose out on his afternoon cookies. Here, it was simply met with a quiet whispered "Thanks." from the master of the house.

"I thought it was about those dumb etiquette classes." Dick now realized, staring through the window at the small child. No wonder he looked so... lifeless now, compared to their trip out.

He couldn't pretend he was in a dream anymore, not really. He was coming to terms with having to what he thought meant return to his 'normal' life. The press conferences, the expectations, the fear of what you're able to trust. "How was he able to trust us at all?"

"Maybe he thought he were heroes," Tim mumbled, a dark red rim to his eyes made the white stand out even more. "finally there to save him."

A small giggle came through even the thick glass of the large glass cage.

"We can't let Alfred come home."

~~~~

Thanks for all the patience, my lovelies.

Tag, you’re it. @suzzettemirunette @lwklillies @sluttyspicystem @sanctum-1993 @wubbie-1 @spikysilhouette @6xofim @wishiwaswritingrn @occasionalauthoring @nugget-72 @thefandomlifechoseus @6xofim @kira-nightingale @ace-wuz-here @nikiexe0 @lilacswraith @treymeow @bi-all-known-laws-of-aviation @banenaz @gimm3storie5 @cajogi @yoopsity @cyraniadebergerac @elemen0pe-blog @flamingfeathers98 @superblyscentedflower @ryudenzu @bat-potato @purplederpleghost @generousnightfury @teamfoods1 @rebobinarte @1am-headcannons @j4yyyz @artisticmindsunite-blog @morallygrayi @amante-de-gays-psicopatas @beentheredonewithlife @czarpaul @v00do-d0ll @hopefulcookieoperatorpersona

[plumstatic]

A little distracting...

What if… they see you doing yoga with only loose shorts on?

Characters: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake 

Contents: suggestive themes, implied sexual content, established relationships, teasing, reader wears loose shorts

a/n: this one ended up being pretty short but if you have any requests, send them my way!

Dick Grayson

Recently, Dick has been waking up to your newest hobby. 

Yoga.

Normally, he wouldn't be too distracted by it, but some mornings you were only wearing some very loose shorts. Nothing underneath.

And whenever you did that, greeting him with the downward facing dog or whatever, his mornings suddenly got very hard.

He sighs, he would not be taking his eyes off you. How could he? 

"Babe, if you come over here, I can show you a different way to get your morning stretch in." He winks at you.

You scoff.

"To think you could go one morning without being a perv." You get up and roll the yoga mat up, then head towards the bathroom, shaking your head in disbelieve.

Jason Todd

He groans, puling the blanket over his face and mentally telling himself to calm the fuck down.

This has to be some sort of torture method.

When he woken up five minutes ago, sun gently warming his face, he saw you on the small balcony of your bedroom. Splayed out on the ground, ass up and very loose shorts slipping to the side, exposing basically everything. 

Hell, he had to do something. Not only for his sanity, but also because the neighbors definitely didn't need that view.

No, thats it.

He drags himself out of bed and stomps to the glass door, opens it and with a very growly voice tells you to get in.

"No?" you say, on all fours now, arching your back and face to the sky.

Tim Drake

"What are you doing?"

You are face down, hips up on your yoga mat. Your arms stretched to the front, then your body smoothly moves onto all fours. 

"I don´t know what you mean?" You say, eyes close and focused on your breathing.

"You're exposing yourself while im trying to concentrate." A pout appears on his face. You continue doing your movements. "Your making this impossible."

 You smile sweetly. "Its my evening wind down. Because Im going to sleep soon, like a normal person. You should try it sometimes."

Tim swears hes not a dick-led person, but watching you move, your sleep shorts falling to the side or your shirt rolling up, gets him to bed early for once.

[plumstatic]

Found something 

What if… they find one of your toys?

Characters: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Wally West, Bruce Wayne

Contents: sex toys, suggestive, implied sexual content, established relationships, dick is implied to be a pervert 

based on this request

Dick Grayson

When you get home and find Dick sitting on the couch, your vibrator in his hand, you know it´s over for you.

"Look what I found today." He holds it up like a trophy. "Didn't know you had one." His devilish grin scares you.

"That's none of your business. " You feel your face heat up. "Where did you even find that?"

"I was looking for a shirt," he says, face innocent all of a sudden.

"In my closet? Right." You run your hand over your tiered face. "Were you trying to steal my panties again?"

Now it was his time to get flustered. Pervert.

Jason Todd

"What is this?"

You just stepped through the door to find Jason holding a large silicone dildo in front of your face.

"Hello to you too?"

"Am I not enough for you?" He has a frown sitting between his brows.

"Jay, are you seriously jealous of a fake dick?" You try to snatch it out of his hands, but he just lifts it higher, out of your reach.

Then he grabs your arm and drags you to the bedroom. "Guess we´ll have to find out who does it better."

Tim Drake 

Short circuits.

He was going through your underwear drawer because you asked him to pick out a pair od underwear for you.

It was date night and he anticipated the part where he got to see you in his favorite slip. But he did not expect to find a generously sized dildo in between them.

Apparently he stayed kneeling and staring for a hot minute, because you step into the bedroom, dressed only in a towel, asking him what takes him so long.

When you see your boyfriends face red and eyes wide, you kneel down beside him and take his face into your hands.

"Baby, what do you suppose I do when you work all day, hm?" You place a kiss on his forehead and grab the slip yourself. "If we hurry, I can show you how I use it before we have to head out?" 

He snaps out of it immediately. 

Wally West 

 While home sick, Wally decides to declutter your apartment.

After unsuccessfully reorganizing the kitchen drawers, he decides the bedroom seems more promising.

He begins on his side of the bed. His bedside drawer is overflowing with tissues, cough drops, and nasal spray.

"Yeah... this all stays," he mutters to himself.

Then he moves on to your nightstand. The first thing he finds is a small vibrator. He blinks at it.

"Huh."

Without giving it another thought, he snaps a picture and sends it to you.

Decluttering You still need this?

He tosses it onto the bed and continues sorting through the drawer. By the time you get home, he's already forgotten about it.

"Why," you ask, holding up your phone, "did you text me a picture of my vibrator?"

Wally blinks.

"...I genuinely don't know."

Bruce Wayne 

Bruce comes home sooner than usual. He hears the shower running and your music muffled behind the bathroom door.

Hes tiered and was planning on going to sleep right away, when he sees unmade sheets through the open bedroom door.

Unusual. 

Even after a nap, you always made the bed.

Curiosity gets the better of him.

The blanket is crumpled at the foot of the bed. His pillow still bears the imprint of someone's head. And right in the middle of the mattress, abandoned without a second thought, sits a vibrator.

Bruce blinks once.

He isn't sure whether he should feel offended or not.

In the end, he simply places it on your nightstand and says nothing.

When you step out of the bathroom, he greets you with a kiss like nothing ever happened.

[my-love-all-mine]

☆ Don’t need a hero to save me!

pairings: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Duke Thomas x reader

summary: You think that Gotham’s favourite heroes arent the perfect vigilantes that people sought them out to be, which seems to catch your boyfriends attention.

warnings: based off of this request, kinda shitty because I rushed it, use of pet names, gn!reader (I think), not proofread

Dick Grayson

“Hey babe, what are you watching?” Dick plopped himself on the couch next to you, throwing one arm behind your head.

You were hunched over, eyes focused on the screen of your telephone.

“Huh? Oh- look at this, Dick!” You shoved the phone in his face. The video you played was one of Nightwing, doing tricks on a rooftop.

He grinned and looked so sure of himself. Too sure of himself.

“Yeah he’s pretty cool, don’t you think?”

You pulled your phone back. “Cool? He’s just a rich guy playing dress up!”

Dick stared at you, almost offended. “Well, I’m sure he’s definitely more than that.”

You scoffed, “He’s really not. I mean all these so called vigilantes are nothing but some rich people who think they’re better than everyone else. Think about how better off all of that money he spent on those-” you inhaled, “-God awful costumes would be if it was invested into projects for the community.”

Dick looked like he just suffered the biggest heartbreak of his life and his reaction did not go unnoticed.

“What’s wrong Dick?”

His voice cracked as he spoke, “You… think, his costumes are bad?”

You took in his shaken state and placed one hand over his.

“Well, I mean ‘Discowing’ wasn’t exactly a fashion phenomenon.” You chuckled lightly, “I’m sorry Dick I didn’t know you were a Nightwing fan.”

He shot his head up, blue eyes shining in the living room light.

“Im not… I just, why do you not like him? Do you just hate all superheroes?”

“He’s not a real superhero, Dick. He’s a rich dude who knows acrobatics.”

“Wha- then who do you consider a real superhero then!?”

You sighed dramatically, throwing your head back into his lap. “Oh, I don’t know, that flash guy is really cute. And his superpowers are cool.”

Your giggles came out playfully as Dick stared at you, his jaw slack.

“Seriously? The flash?”

You smiled, “Yeah. Come here now.”

One of your hands threaded through his black locks, pulling his face down so your lips could meet his.

Dick didn’t dare to protest and kissed you back, then pulled away for a second.

“Just for clarification, what would you want Nightwings costume to look like?”

Jason Todd

You were just done with work for the day, walking out of your office building when two men decided to corner you for your purse.

The two men were now lying on the floor, with none other than the Red Hood standing above them to land one last punch to the blonde haired man’s jaw.

You had watched the whole scene unravel from the corner of the alleyway you had found yourself in, eyes wide as followed the figure of the tall vigilante fight.

“You alright?” Red Hood crouched down to talk eye-level with you while you gathered your thoughts.

Something in you snapped as soon as heard his voice, words spilling out far too fast.

“Yeah. I could’ve handled the situation myself, by the way.”

Your chest heaved. Yes you were definitely scared shitless right now, but you were not going to give this man the satisfaction of your gratitude.

“Oh, Really?” You could hear his shit eating grin even under his mask.

“Yeah. I don’t need some guy with metal plastered on him like some wannabe batman to be able to defend myself.”

Red Hood scoffed, his voice lowering to a dangerous tone.

“Alright gorgeous. Wanna let me help you get home?”

You shoved a finger in his face, “Hey! I watch who you’re calling gorgeous! I have a boyfriend!”

He laughed. why won’t he back away already?!

“Yeah?”

“Yes. And he definitely wouldn’t like you talking to me that way. Mainly because I don’t like you talking to me that way!” You huffed, turning around to grab your purse as you tried to get up.

At literally the worst time possible the band of your heel snapped, making you tumble over to the man in black as you braced yourself on his chest.

You guys locked eyes (well, through his mask) for a few moments before you woke back to reality.

“Ugh-get your hands off me.” You pushed yourself off of him, making your way out from the alley.

He watched as you limped out into the streets.

“You going to walk home like that?”

You looked back at him, narrowing your eyes.

“-you know I can take you home right?”

The idea lingered in your head. Would it be stupid to walk home with a man you’ve never met before?

Yes, it would. It very much would be. That’s why you were now clinging to him like a maniac as he soared through the streets of Gotham with his motorcycle.

The cold air hit your face so you squeezed your eyes as closed as possible, trying to calm yourself down.

You only re-opened them once you felt him come to a stop.

“Hey pretty. We’re here.”

You grimaced at the nickname and stumbled off his bike.

“Do not call me that.”

Red hood apologised with a teasing tone that made you hate him even more.

“Sooo, not very fond of my hero persona? Most people don’t react like this when I save their lives.” He added.

“First of all, I had it under control. Second of all, I don’t appreciate random people thinking they’re above the law. Leave that stuff to the police.” You snapped back, readjusting your purse as you walked into your building.

“Good night.”

The clock read 2 am when you heard the front door click open.

You ran over, throwing your hands around your boyfriend’s neck as you let him pick you up.

“Jay! You won’t believe the day I just had.”

He grinned. “Oh really? Why don’t you let me get ready for bed, then you can tell me all about it.”

Duke Thomas

The bitter steam of the coffee you just ordered lingered around your nose as you brought the mug to your lips, waiting patiently in the cafe for your boyfriend to arrive.

You looked up when you heard the bell ding, seeing Duke stand in the middle of the doorframe with a big smile plastered on his face.

He walked over to you, placing a chaste kiss on your lips before pulling out a chair and sitting next to you.

“Hi.” He said.

“Hi Duke.” You smiled back.

You both started conversing about your day before the change of channels on the cafe TV caught your attention.

“It has appeared another crime scene was seen unraveling early this morning in Gotham. The superhero known as the signal seemed to take matters into his own hands. And while he succeeded, the perpetrator still managed to escape.” The brown haired news reporter said.

You didn’t notice the way Duke tensed up in his seat as you watched the screen.

“This is so stupid.” You mumbled under your breath.

“Huh-what did you say?” He replied.

You sighed, “Ugh-it’s just, why do we keep putting up with all this vigilante bullshit? When’s the last time you saw signal jail a guy without destroying public property?”

Duke laughed nervously, “Yeah, but come on baby, he’s saving lives.”

“At what cost though? And let’s not act like that suit was cheap either. That money could have been invested in schools! Do you know how fucked the Gotham school system is?!”

He gently rubbed his hand up and down your back as you continued to ramble on.

“I don’t understand! There are decent people like Bruce who’ll actually donate their money and not hog every last dollar to their multi-million dollar selves.” You grumbled. “Bet Batman never spent a single cent on charity, with his stupid fancy Batmobile-”

Duke watched you speaking passionately, eyes never leaving you. Oh if you only knew.

Ty for reading! Reblogs & comments appreciated<3

a/n: I ran out of ideas in the end :(

taglist: @starl1ghtgr4yson @fireriyu

[samwxlsxon]

right your wrongs | jason todd x reader

summary: You took something from Jason. He wants it back.

word count: 6.9k

t/w: 18+ no use of y/n, cnc, roleplaying, cursing, kidnapping, blood, violence, hitting, fear, torture, threats, references to death and murder, hair pulling, manhandling, degradation, extreme dom/sub dynamics, power imbalance, gunplay, coercion, oral (m), unprotected p in v (remember what lil wayne said), slapping, biting, knife play, choking, breath play, rough sex (no seriously like it's not cute), orgasm denial, overstimulation, squirting, rushed aftercare (sorry i ran out of juice towards the end)

a/n: do not read if you are uncomfortable with any of the warnings! this for all u freaks out there <3

this was not beta read, so please ignore any grammatical or structural typos hehe

[divider credit: i lost the op, feel free to lmk if you know where it's from!]

masterlist

You woke abruptly to the feeling of something tangled in your hair, pulling your head back harshly as frigid liquid rolled down your face. Pain shot down the back of your head, sharp and biting.

You winced at both the pain and the sudden shock of ice. A soft groan fell from your lips as your eyes peeled themselves open, ultimately shrinking closed again in response to the assault of a lamp pointed in your face. It felt like you were waking up on a weekend, still groggy from the late night before, while the sun beat on your face from a crack in the blinds. 

The taste of something metallic lingered on your lips, mixing with the liquid stuck to your face (which was very much not water) as you spit it out onto whatever lay in front of you.  

Your eyes took their time to adjust to the light, burning and blurry from whatever it was that you couldn’t wipe away. You were tied to a chair, arms snug in restrains behind your back. You didn’t need to see to figure as much- the way your body tugged on itself as you coughed out the burning liquid that had traveled down your throat was evidence enough of your immobility.  

Your captor released you with a deep inhale, something clattering beside you as if tossed from his hands with little care. Heavy steps made their way to your front as you gathered yourself, your eyes finally adjusting enough to make out a large figure blocking the light. 

A black, skunk-striped mop of hair caught your attention first, a small smile forming on your lips as you realized who stood before you. 

“Hiya, Jay,” you croaked out. Your head felt too heavy for your neck as you peered up at him. Slowly, his features started to come together. You looked him in the eyes, ones usually so full of hurt and sorrow, only to be met in anger- blazing anger. Your smile lost its potency as a slight pang of fear shot through you. It seemed as though you would soon discover what it meant to be on the Red Hood’s shit list. 

He did not return your smile.

His imposing figure towered over you. No matter how confident you were in your ability to escape the situation alive, he had the type of stance that made you naturally want to cower away, pushing yourself deeper into the plastic chair that dug uncomfortably against your back. He was fucking scary like this. Terrifying, really. And with an offensively low chair budget. 

When he spoke his voice rumbled with irritation, cutting sharply into the silence of whatever safe-house he had dragged you to.

“Where is it.” 

He spoke his question as a statement, as though to note that he already knew you had done what you would soon be accused of doing. Standardly, there was a sort of art to interrogation. A hard hand here, a sly question there. There would usually be some back and forth before the accusations started flowing, a bit of foreplay, if you would. You had to play with your toys a bit, warm them up for the heavy stuff. 

However, Jason wasn’t in the mood for games, it seemed. Always no-nonsense. Boring!

Not one to give in easily, you played along. You cocked your head to the side in feigned ignorance. “Where’s what?”

He was most definitely referring to the flash-drive you had swiped from him, the one containing lots of important things about lots of important people, very conveniently sitting in your bedside table at home. What a small world. 

He had grown tired of your shit quickly as his hand returned to your hair. You let out a small whimper as he pulled your head back, his free hand coming up to squeeze tightly at your jaw. His thumbs made harsh indents into the plush skin of your cheeks, as the pain and pressure hitting your skull at different angles made you want to scream. 

“Don’t fuckin’ play stupid with me.” He squeezed and pulled harder, enough that you were certain he’d taken some of your hair with him. 

You choked out a response through a stretched jaw, ultimately sounding more like a collection of vowels than words, “I don’t have it.” You tried your best to plead with him through your eyes, filling them with faux confusion and fear. 

His nose barely brushed yours as he inspected your face for any hint of betrayal. It was clear what he thought of your performance as he sneered at you in disgust.

Although still young, you wouldn’t consider yourself green when it came to successfully faking your way through interrogations. You’d experienced your fair share of beatings over the years and had learned the tricks of deceit better than most street criminals you’d encountered. You could hold your own well enough around the streets of Gotham. Well enough to support your lifestyle, at least. 

Unfortunately for you, Jason was not a street criminal. In actuality, Jason was quite the opposite of a street criminal. He was a specially trained combatant, highly lethal, and with as little remorse left in his heart as would ensure it stayed beating. He was dangerous and overly experienced. Most importantly, he could sniff out your act from a mile away. 

He had probably known as it was happening- hell, he'd probably let you steal it. Just so he could fill his Tuesday night with chasing you down and having someone to hurt. The motherfucker probably got off on it. 

He released your head with a frustrated grunt, allowing you to stretch out the aching pain in your jaw.

Before you could process any movements, Jason pulled out a sleek black pistol and nestled it against your temple. The cool metal soothed your inflamed skin, but Jason was trigger-happy enough to raise some alarm bells in your head.

"Jason," you let out an awkward chuckle, straining your eyes to meet his without turning your head further into the gun, "I-I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about."

He pulled the slide back in response, loading the weapon against your skull.

You were beginning to panic slightly, fidgeting uncomfortably in the godforsaken chair. The restraints against your arms and legs were tight, allowing for little wiggle room, although not for your lack of trying.

"Jason, please," you begged, voice wavering. "I don't have what you're looking for."

Jason was a man with little patience on a good day, and a good day it was not. He needed you to talk- it was not in question whether or not you'd taken the flash-drive; he just needed to know where you'd put it.

He removed the gun from your temple and aimed it towards the ceiling. Without hesitation, a round went off with a bang, shaking you to your core. You flinched violently at the sound, ears ringing with the remnants of the fired shot. Tears welled up in your eyes in fear as your confidence slipped away. Jason Todd's true danger was becoming apparent.

"I won't ask you again." He spoke with deadly calm, a sharp contrast to the bullet he'd just put through the ceiling.

While you were scared of what he would do to you, the thought of what he would do to you once you admitted what you'd done was worse. You were in too deep. Even in your final moments, you'd be nothing if not prideful.

"Please, Jason. I swear, please, I didnt- " the words caught in your throat, small and beady tears rolling out the corners of your eyes as you shook your head.

A blinding, white-hot pain shoots through your cheek as your head swings to the side. The familiar metallic taste filled your mouth, which you’d now recognized to be blood.

He’d hit you straight in the jaw.

Your face became stuck in a silent scream, fighting to unclench your jaw as it throbbed through the tension.

You were crying in earnest now, fat drops of salty water making their way down your face in consequence. You usually could get by with a bit of pain, but it was your fear of Jason that caused you the most distress.

"Jason, p-," a bloody glob of spit fell to the floor beside you, "please. I'm sorry, I didn't-" You pleaded the best you could, doubling your previous efforts in an attempt to save you from whatever else this psychotic man was capable of.

His hand returned to your hair as you let out a sob, scrunching your eyes closed on reflex. "I don't fucking believe you," he growled from somewhere up above.

All your cockiness had crumbled. He'd stripped you down to your bare and basic fears, leaving you to fend for yourself with nothing more than an instinct to survive. He was colossal, towering over you with a rugged dominance. He probably had enough strength in a pinkie to take you down entirely on attempt to escape.

You were so fucked.

His grip tightened again, sharp and hot. The ice of the gun returned, this time on your lower jaw, offering a sort-of fucked up relief to the hot skin. You imagined it would bruise up dreadfully in a couple days, if you managed to survive.

"Here's what's gonna happen- you wanna hear what's gonna happen?" A tighter squeeze.

You choked out a sob, far too consumed by adrenaline to give a comprehensible answer.

It seemed as he was unhappy with your lack of appropriate response. To demand an answer, he gripped your hair impossibly tight and shook your head in ways that resembled a 'no' or a 'yes', tugging on your neck uncomfortably. "Answer me," his voice raised.

His aggression sent you right back to your feeble state of self-preservation, desperate to keep the stings away.

"Y-yes, I do." You nodded as much as he allowed with his hand in your scalp, opening your watery eyes again.

Satisfied temporarily, he relaxed his grip, if only slightly. He acknowledged your response with a spit of his own on the ground, then teetered your head back to meet his big brown eyes.

"You want to prove to me that you didn't do it- want me to believe you, huh?" You nodded again with a wince.

He chuckled humorously. "Thing is, sweetheart, I don't believe you. You're a lying whore." Another sob.

"Please-" you began.

"Shut up, I'm not done." His tone commanded obedience, his scream shaking you to your core and effectively shutting you up.

"Here's what we're gonna do, okay? You're going to prove to me, convince me, that you didn't do it- that you're a good girl, yeah? You're gonna try your fucking best. If by the end, I still don't believe you, I'm going to kill you."

Panic shot through you, and you could do nothing else but cry distastefully at the thought of your life in his hands, just mere minutes, hours, days, from ceasing.

"You wanna die?" He asked, deadly serious. You took too long to respond again, resulting in another shake of your head, "you wanna die?"

"No-o, Jason, no." A plea.

"Open your mouth," he ordered. You were dumbstruck for a moment, caught off guard by his sudden ask. However shocking the statement, however, you did as you were told. He'd spare you if you were good.

He stared at you for a second, observing your compliance with a blank face. Slowly, the barrel of his gun began to trace from your jaw, to your chin, to the curve of your bottom lip. You watched him with wide, horrified eyes, knowing what he wished to do next.

Your panic only increased as you felt the cold metal touch your tongue, the bitter taste of gunpowder in its wake. Soon enough, the entire barrel was nested neatly between your plush lips, buried in your mouth. Your eyes clenched closed again, another heap of tears falling as soft moans of resistance escaped from around the gun.

"Look at me, look at me."

You heeded his command, a slight pang of fear shooting through you at the darkness his eyes held. You weren’t safe- you were tied to a chair with nowhere to run, fully and completely at his mercy.

“Suck.” Another dry order.

You looked at him dumbfounded for several moments, the grip on your scalp limiting your range of motion. When you didn’t move right away, he became impatient and used your hair to move your head up and down on the pistol.

You gagged slightly as he hit the back of your throat, eyes filling with a new set of tears. You could do nothing but watch as he used your mouth to fulfill whatever sick fantasy he had. He, similarly, was fully engrossed in how the weapon would retreat from your mouth with a slick sheen around it.

"Atta girl, there y'go. Get it clean- ‘s your fault I had to use it, huh? Clean it.”

The slight praise sent something through you, but whatever it was, it was overshadowed by terror. How long until he got tired of this game? How long did you have left alive?

“Use your tongue or I pull the trigger.”

Up until this point, your tongue had laid dormant at the bottom of your mouth, afraid that moving it without permission would make him angry, or in contrast, make him believe you wanted more. You weren’t willing to offer anything more than you had to.

Timidly, you moved your tongue to swirl the tip of the barrel, wincing slightly at the bitter flavor of gunpowder. You kept your eyes on him as you did, knowing that’s what he wanted to see. Fucking bastard.

Slowly, the act became a distraction. You were focused on running your tongue around as much of the gun as you could, and soon your heart began to settle and your tears dried up. You were still in danger, but if you behaved he seemed to lean towards leniency.

You hated that it helped how he kept speaking to you, in a low gruffly voice. Bits of praise here, a degrading comment there. While the seconds passed, you felt as sick as him for liking it as much as you did.

Drool dripped out of the corner of your mouth as you worked, Jason’s constant thrusting allowing you no room to swallow.

“Look at you, fucking nasty. Knew you’d like this shit. Gonna have to do better than that- c’mon, baby, you owe me.”

He pulled the gun out of your mouth with a trail of spit and you choked on air, oxygen filling your needy lungs. Your scalp was hot with the aftershock of pain. In his mercy, he gave you a second to calm down, sputtering through spit and deep breaths.

He tossed the gun carelessly, watching it skip on the concrete floor. Relief washed over you- at least now he couldn’t shoot you. He could still kill you, though, with just his hands.

Suddenly, the air got cold again. What now? Your brain began to rack through the endless possibilities of what awaited you, pushing the horrible, obvious answers towards the back of your mind.

“Think you can do better than that, yeah, yeah you can.” He repeated, more to himself than anything.

You watched him nervously as he moved closer to you, his shins brushing your knees. His hands moved down to unbuckle his belt patiently, deliberately slow. He made a show of pulling the strap through the loop, stretching it out, and unbuckling it so that it fell to his sides freely. You simmered in your nerves until they almost about bubbled over, shaking your head frantically as you realized what he wanted.

His hand returned to your head, stifling your movement, but this time he didn’t grip. It rested on the backside, a firm presence to guide you without inflicting anymore pain. He widened his legs to fit around yours and stepped forward, your face now leveled closely to his crotch.

“You fuckin’ owe me. Yeah, baby, you do.” Your eyes widened at the implication, looking up at him to confirm what you knew he wanted you to do. “Gonna be good? Y’have a lot to prove.”

“Jason, please- no, please don’t make me.” You begged, trying to shake your head out of his grip. A fruitless endeavor.

You didn’t want that. Sure, you’d fucked up, but you’d rather die with some dignity still left than to be used for his pleasure. He was a monster, fucked in the head and depraved. You’d rather he hurt you- you’d endure it. The cuts would eventually heal, but this- this would stay with you forever.

His pushed your head forward to nuzzle your face into the outline of his cock protruding from his dark jeans, effectively shutting you up. He felt huge, and you accepted that your bruised jaw would feel infinitely worse once he was done with you. You hated him.

He let out a low groan from above you, pushing you against him in earnest now, dragging your face up and down and side to side on his bulge.

Your tears were soaking through his pants, the material too dark to tell. You felt so helpless- forced to play a game for your life in which being good meant allowing him to deprave you for his contentment. It was sick.

He was growing visibly impatient, moving your head sloppily against him as his hips rolled into your face.

He stepped away from you abruptly, as though he couldn't waste another second with your face pressed up against him. You jerked your head away from his hand as quickly as you could, but it wasn't met with punishment.

He took advantage of his free hand to unbutton his pants, pulling the zipper down harshly. In one fell swoop, he pulled down the constricting fabric of his pants and underwear, releasing his flushed cock from its confines.

If you thought he felt big through his pants, ho ho. Jason Todd's cock was a masterpiece, and a small part of you wished you could've experienced it under better circumstances.

If you hadn't already noticed, it was extremely clear that Jason enjoyed hurting you, judging by the way his tip was angrily red, desperate and leaking. He was buzzing with need, hands returning to your hair to form a misshaped ponytail.

Your eyes filled with newly formed tears at the sight of him. He looked like an animal- dangerous and hungry. He looked down at you with eyes nearly black with want. His grip on your hair tugged you closer to his cock, the tip tapping your lips expectantly.

You eyes gave their final plead for mercy. Another futile attempt.

"Open your mouth. I won't ask you again."

Feeling as though you'd lost the battle completely, you had no choice but to oblige. You weren't too keen at giving him a reason to follow through with any more threats.

As soon as you'd opened wide enough, Jason pushed your head down, meeting half-way with his hips. Your eyes widened at the feeling of his size in your mouth. Immediately, your jaw began to ache.

He was so heavy on your tongue, the smooth skin of his shaft against your tastebuds. He tasted faintly on sweat, but the intrusion sent an involuntary flutter through your core.

"S-shit," he groaned as the warm walls of your throat enveloped him. "Knew you wanted to live- shit."

He was so big you could barely take him all. A small ring of skin remained untouched at the bottom of his shaft, connecting to a trimmed patch of dark hair at his navel. You felt him nestled against the back of your throat as you contained a gag, saliva pooling in your mouth.

With more care than you expected from him, he slowly began inching in and out of your mouth, fucking himself with your face.

His brief stint of affection quickly vanished, however, as his thrusts picked up speed. You were choking in earnest now every time his cock hit the back of your throat. It felt like he was trying to fuck through you, wishing nothing more than to impale your head on his cock.

You gurgled out a surprised yelp as he threw his head back, strands of black hair falling onto his forehead. Your eyes watered for different reasons this time as the gagging continued.

"Fuckin' good girl-knew you needed this shit," Jason punched out, not ceasing his assault on your mouth. You felt his balls against your chin as your eyes blurred, fighting back the urge to vomit.

He pulled away briefly, a line of spit connecting your lips to his now even redder cock. You choked in as much air as you could, coughing occasionally on your own saliva.

After allowing you a couple seconds to breathe, he pushed back in, resuming his brutal pace.

"Still haven't forgotten- fuck- what y'took from me," he said. "Y'weren't being so good then."

He pulled your head back slightly to meet your eyes. He towered above you, his broad shoulders blocking the light from the lamp as he thrusted in you.

"Yeah," he nodded, condescendingly. "Need to make you work for it."

One of his large hands released your hair and pinched your nose, effectively cutting off your last available air supply. Your eyes practically grew out of your head while you yelped in protest.

You couldn't breathe, and at the expense of your panic, Jason threw his head back and let out a deliciously low moan, fucking himself deeper into your mouth.

Your chest burned at the lack of oxygen, eyes slowly drooping as it made you woozy. Your body buzzed, gurgling lightly against his cock.

You could still feel him in the back of your throat when he pulled away. You took longer gasps of air than you'd ever thought possible, feeling like you were just pulled out of a cold pool.

Again, he only allowed you a couple seconds to breathe. Not enough to fill your lungs completely, but enough to prevent you from passing out. He was dangling you on the precipice of death. It was torture.

"Such'a pretty fuckin' mouth," he groaned through his teeth.

His fingers returned to your nostrils, his other hand around your throat now. You knew he could feel himself through the thin skin of your throat and you didn't know how to take that.

His frequent moans drowned out the sound of your choking, and you could tell he was close by the way his thrusts were becoming more erratic.

Your chest was burning again. He was pushing you harder this time, and you could tell. Your body twitched against the restraints in an effort to pull yourself away. He only gripped tighter in response.

Your eyes rolled back as your vision danced with black dots. If it weren't for his grip on your throat, your head would've dropped straight back. You tried to take a breath as he pulled out, but it only caused you to breathe in spit.

"F-fuck, sweetheart," he thrusted a few more times before releasing your nose, warm steaks painting the inside of your cheeks. He pushed his cum back into the back of your throat as he thrusted through the aftershocks. You cringed at the liquid trailing down, heaving against it.

He tasted of salt and musk, and you swallowed through your coughing fit without incident. He probably expected it of you.

You were gasping for air when he pulled out, salty tears mixing with the taste of blood and cum in your mouth.

He let out some shallow, heavy breaths as he tucked himself back into his pants, wincing slightly in sensitivity.

You gaped at him silently, begging- no, willing him to end this.

He broke your heart when he spoke: “I don’t believe you,” Jason concluded.

Panic simmered in you again. “Please Jason- I don’t know what else I can do, I swear-I- I don’t know where it is.” You spoke hoarsely, shaking your head, the lingering taste in your mouth silently reminding you that there was always more you could do.

He scoffed out a beautiful laugh, looking down at your pouting eyes condescendingly.

“Tell me where it is and this stops.”

You weighed the possibility of telling him. His reputation suggested that he would punish you regardless of if you disclosed the location of the flash-drive or not, so it didn’t give you much of a choice.

If he was going to hurt you anyway, might as well get a pretty penny for your suffering.

“I swear, I don’t know where it is.”

“Right,” he turned around to face the table behind him, which was littered with what seemed to be various weapons and restraints, scanning for his preferred toy.

When he returned to you holding a small paring knife, you began to cry for the umpteenth time that night.

Since guns were more likely to kill someone during attempted use during interrogation, they were usually not a popular tool for inflicting physical harm. Knives, however, could cause almost any desired amount of pain without the lethal ramifications of its automated counterpart.

While you were scared when Jason brought out his gun, you were not positive that he would actually use it. The knife, on the other hand, was much more probable.

“Since I still don’t believe you,” he noted, dismissing your previous attempt at convincing him otherwise with a tone that made him sound almost bored. “You’re going to continue to prove yourself.”

Jason stalked towards you menacingly. He got close enough to brush the tip of the knife against your bottom lip, nicking it with dangerous precision.

A small whimper left your now crimson lips. Fear bubbled up again, but you knew there was no where you could go.

“I’m sorry,” there it was- an admission, coaxed from you in response to fear and danger.

“Please, I’ll do anythi- anything. Just don’t...” your voice wavered off, meek in the presence of his stoicism.

He ticked his tongue in response, cooing at you softly, like how a father would try and divert a petulant child, “I know you will, sweetheart. So you’ll do this.”

He left no room for conversation.

Right as you thought he would slice you again, he dropped down to your feet, slid the knife between the rope and your leg, and cut it free.

You watched him, confusion evident as you tried to piece together what was happening. You stayed deathly still as he released you, worried that a breath in the wrong direction would result in the blade finding its home right in your femoral artery.

The ropes dropped uselessly to the floor.

He stood up with a grunt, walking behind you until you could only feel his body heat pressed up against your arms on the back of the chair.

With a free hand he grabbed your throat, holding you down firmly with light pressure. You swallowed against his palm as he sliced through the ropes on your wrists, freeing you completely.

Your breath stalled against his hand. No way he was letting you go, not in a million years.

Your brain wasn’t working correctly. The feeling of freedom was so overwhelming, you hadn’t the time to think about what you were doing before you did it.

Quickly, your nails made way into the flesh of Jason’s arm, piercing the skin and leaving tiny red cuts along his bicep and forearm. He grunted in pain, tightening his grip around your neck.

A scream escaped you as you kicked your legs, your body moving so wildly it was causing the cheap plastic chair to tilt on its sides.

You managed a couple good punches, none of which he reacted to, before he raised you up by your neck, dragged you towards the wall, and slammed you against it so hard you saw stars.

You screamed gutturally in pain, flailing yourself uselessly against him in pointless action.

“Shut up,” he growled, slamming his hand on the wall beside you. He gripped your airway tighter in an attempt to muffle your noise, but you were hardheaded enough to keep it up.

Jason was growing increasingly agitated, his eyes violent at your disobedience.

He managed to catch your wrists in his hand, pressing them hard against your stomach, never releasing your throat in the process. You were bound once more.

As he pushed himself against you, effectively trapping your hands between your bodies, he stilled your thrashing jaw, and kissed you.

With enough force to nearly knock out a tooth, Jason kissed you, the delicious tang of your bloody lips entering his mouth.

You were too shocked to continue screaming, attention completely captured by how Jason’s lips moved against yours; how your teeth clashed against each others in a desperate chase of cat and mouse; and how, disgustingly, you found yourself kissing back.

Jason, in contrast, found himself letting out the loudest noise he had all night. Once your taste entered his system, his chest rumbled with the deep, devastating moan that poured through him.

Ever so true to himself, he even kissed torturously. He would nip at your cut, making you cry out into his mouth. Once he drank up your cries, he’d run his tongue against the cut soothingly, showing you the first kindness of the entire night. You were getting whiplash. You didn’t know what he would do next- would he offer a petal or a thorn? The thought had you positively reeling, stuck in nervous anticipation of his next move.

Sickeningly, your lips began to chase his. You hated yourself for matching his rhythm, especially since he’d forced you to do this.

It seemed that once he noticed you getting too comfortable, he just had to pull the rug out from under you. With blinding speed, he stepped back, spinning you around and pressing your face against the cold concrete wall.

“Pretty lil’ thing,” he spoke lowly in your ear. Your hands had made their way to your back, pressed against his firm figure behind you. “You owe me this.”

He kicked your legs open, nesting his thigh between them. You were trapped at all angles. His free hand made its way down to your pants, making quick work of your buttons with the skill only a predator could have.

“N-no, no Jason please, don’t do this,” you croaked from against the wall, your voice meek. His intentions caused another embarrassing round of tears to start, but this time they were of anger, not of fear.

“You fuckin’ did this,” he countered, dragging your pants and panties down your thighs.

The feeling of cold air on your bare core did nothing to soothe your burning body. Your muscles ached and burned, throbbing in random places.

“Jason,” you pled, feeling him free himself from behind you, resting his soft member on the curve of your ass. The sound of his belt hitting the floor distracted you enough to not hear him spitting in his hand, spreading the wetness on his cock.

“Come and I'll kill you.”

With that, he lined himself up with your aching, wet heat and thrust in.

You braced yourself for the pain his size would surely cause with such little lubricant, but you surprised yourself when he went in smoothly. Your body had betrayed you. Your pussy sucked him in like a lush stream, with no discomfort besides the delicious stretch of his girth.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned as he bottom out, aching cock finally engulfed in your soothing heat. Your face was stuck in a silent moan, too blindsided to make any real sounds.

He pulled out slightly before rutting into you, rubbing the head of his cock against your cervix.

A groan was punched from your chest, “Oh my G-uhhh,”

Your vocalizations seemed to spur him on. He quickly unsheathed himself only to push roughly back in, soon building up a brutal pace that had you rocking forward against the concrete.

"J-Jason, please, oh," you didn't know what you were begging for- relief, release, it didn't matter. The worst part was how good it felt, and instead of the pleasure bringing you peace, it only made you more panicked. You had no idea how long you would last with Jason fucking you so disgustingly good, and he made a promise on what would happen should you come.

Relief, you finally decided, that's what you needed. Relief from his relentless thrusts that were pitching you straight towards that release.

You wiggled your bottom, willing yourself to press further into the concrete to escape his assault. In your sheer stupidity, the slight change in angle only drove his cock deeper, hitting a spot inside you that you didn't even know existed.

Stars swirled behind your eyelids, and you dropped your head back into his shoulder with a wide mouth.

"Can't fucking run," he growled in your ear through grit teeth, "you did this, now take it."

He used his grip on your wrist to pull you back against him, meeting his already powerful thrusts with as much force as could be produced at the hands of Jason Todd. Your ass smacked thwok against his meaty thighs, the sound filling the room alongside your fucked out cries.

"N-no, Jason please, don' wanna come," you cried.

You were barreling towards it, no longer a matter of if, but when. You would die in a matter of seconds, if Jason was good on his word.

He stilled for a moment, and you almost sobbed in relief. If you had an ounce more respect for him, hell, you would've thanked him. But before you could enjoy your reprieve to its fullest, he spoke:

"Listen to me and hold it."

You impending orgasm had not fully dissipated, and thus his moment of mercy was rendered absolute once he began moving again. The break had been so brief, it barely had no use at all. He didn't care about how you felt, he just wanted to prove that he held your life in his hands. Come or don't, he decides. Live or die.

His pace was ruthless and his stamina never ending. You had stopped realizing the thrusts all together, as his consistency with force and speed blended all the sensations together, until you didn't know when the pleasure started or stopped.

"I've been good, pl- tried to prove, fuuuck," a pit of dread rose inside you as your orgasm grew in tandem.

"Fuckin' prove it then. Be good and hold it." His neck dropped to the crook of yours and began to leave hot, wet, opened-mouth kisses on your jugular. His teeth nipped at your skin, leaving tiny red welts in their wake. The combination of pain and pleasure was lusciously addictive, and it ashamed you at how badly you wanted it.

You were done for the moment he brushed the side of your ear with his soft tongue. Your thighs clenched up, sucking him in. His arm flew to your waist as your legs failed you on shaky feet. The orgasm was powerful, hitting you all at once everywhere, overtaking every sense of anything you had left.

He fucked you through it, blackening your vision. The stars behind your eyes transformed into fireworks and created the most mind-bending visuals while your body floated in ecstasy.

Your mouth spilled out nonsense as you came. You were constricting him through the aftershocks, and Jason had to do everything in his power not to blow right then.

He bit you through the tail-end, right on the shoulder, never relenting in the way his cock tired to pummel through you. "Can't ever, shit, ever listen."

"How was that? You liked that shit?" He grunted.

Another stupid moan.

"Speak." The hand from around your waist reached down to land a sharp smack on your ass, which sent you right into action.

"Yes, so good, mph, soso good," your nod scraped the concrete, feeling nothing but agreeable in your state.

"Well enjoy it- the rest are gonna hurt." He was furious. If you wanted to come so badly to go on and defy him, then you would keep coming. If he couldn't stop you , he would make sure you did it so much you would learn to hate it.

"H-huh?" You panicked slightly. The rest? What rest?

With that, his hand reached over to your aching, leaking cunt, and placed his finger directly on your sensitive nub. With learned precision, he lifted your hood and began rubbing small, stiff circles directly on your clit.

You overstimulation was immediate. Your pussy spasmed involuntarily as white-hot pleasure shocked through you. You were being pushed to your limits, unable to stop the pressure at your core from growing.

"Jason, I don't-," you knew this feeling. Each swirl of his fingers was more unbearable, until you felt like a dam ready to burst.

Liquid gushed from your cunt, wetting your legs and his in your juices. You poor pussy weeped in response to his torture, brining all your pleasure to a tipping point.

"You're such a fucking slut," he scoffed out a laugh, eyes never leaving the mess you'd made. "This what you wanted?"

His fingers never stopped, timed perfectly with his thrusts.

You had barely any mind left to speak. "Jay, c'mon- please, uh," you whined. He smelled like musk and sweat against you, caging you in his large body as you writhed in overstimulation.

"No, take it," he repeated, trying to ward off his own orgasm against your beautiful cries.

You choked on a scream as another orgasm rolled through you, this one coming as a building wave, destroying through everything in its path.

This comedown was devastating, as you lost all strength in your limbs. Jason was fully holding you up at this point, his thrusts nearing the point of accidental sloppiness.

"Tha's it, there y'go," he mumbled into your hair, almost sweetly. "Good fuckin' girl, doin' s'good."

You mewled against him, feeling the embers of another orgasm growing in heat. You twitched uselessly against him as he chased his own release. "Can't, Jay, can't again," you shook your head.

He grunted in disapproval, working you faster. "You can, gimme one more,"

"No," you wailed, the fire growing bigger. Maybe this is how he planned to kill you, by sending your whole body up in flames under his touch. The pleasure twisted with pain, involuntary jerks attacking your body.

Jason was crumbling. "One more, tha's it, pretty girl, jus' one more," he drove into you deeper as you collapsed, desperate to feel you come around him once more time.

You might as well had been set on fire. You felt every nerve ending explode into a million tiny specks of glass as you came, somehow finding their way into your veins and shocking you cold.

Jason got two more thrusts in before you clenched impossibly around him, no sooner had he pulled out than ropes of warm cum shot into the small of your back.

The sound that rumbled through him was beautiful, if you'd any mind left to hear it. Waves of pleasure rolled through him forcefully, only exaggerated by how good you looked under him.

"Holy fuck, baby," he choked out, breathing heavily through the waves, one hand bracing the wall in front of you.

Since his grip had loosened, you found yourself sliding down the wall, no longer able to hold yourself up.

"A-are we done?" You whispered meekly, eyes closed and crumpled to the floor. Exhausted, you didn't realize Jason had scooped you into his large arms until you could no longer feel the ground at your feet.

"Yeah baby, we're done. I’m sorry. Y’did so good for me," he kissed the top of your head as he led you out of the garage and into your home, "my perfect girl."

You nuzzled your face into his neck, mumbling softly, "tired."

He gripped you firmly, holding you close. You must've weighed nothing in his arms. "I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have hurt you like that."

He felt horrible at how he unleashed unto you what he'd worked so hard to store away. He tried desperately to separate his violence from you, but his protests were useless. He knew there was nothing in this world he wouldn't do for you- especially when you asked nicely.

You snorted lightly at his comment. "Oh hush, I liked it. You did too." And you were confident in that. Jason needed to let go sometimes, in a controlled environment where he could play out whatever sick and twisted fantasy tickled his fancy.

Every couple of months, when things were particularly bad out in the streets, you would approach Jason with an open heart and made-up mind. He never asked you for any of this, but you knew how badly he needed it.

You didn't mind- you relished in it, actually. You loved the things he did to you, and you would be lying if you said you didn't need it, too. The sense of his sheer power over you, and the reminder that he'd never once used it against you, was enough to make you fall in-love with him ten times over.

You had a safe-word for whenever things got too rough, but you rarely used it. You knew he'd always take care of you.

"Yeah, maybe. Don't get used to it, sweets. You're too good for this shit. Let me wash you up and I'll order dinner." You could feel the disapproval in his tone.

You hummed noncommittally, imagining the warmth of the water on your sore muscles.

collecting tw's like pokemon cards- enjoy!

[solisstars]

in the midst of baby fever, do not panic

jason was a complex guy, there was no question or doubt about that. he was too much or too little most of the time. too quiet and too loud. you often had a hard time figuring out what was going on in his head or getting a proper peek through the walls he surrounded himself with.

but. when it came to you, and when it came to other things he liked by extension, he was an open book.

such as now, for instance, as he tried to pretend he was very uninterested in the baby clothes you were shifting through.

"what about this one?" you asked, holding up a yellow dress with a decorative bee.

jason pulled his thoughts and fingers from a small leather jacket with red detailing. "uh, it's cute."

"you've said that about everything i've shown you."

"because they've all been cute."

you chuckled at his response, "yes, jay, but i can't buy them all."

"i don't know, it's your friend's baby shower–" he trailed off at the look you gave him. "okay. maybe you should get that one with the bee and the first sleep suit?"

"maybe," you hummed in response, handing off the options he selected for him to hold. "i just want to look a bit longer."

jason groaned at the sound of that–he knew your "bit"s and "longer"s. he held what you handed him without complaint anyways, glancing around the store.

his gaze lingered on a little boy the aisle over, playing peekaboo with a baby sitting in the cart as his parents shopped. his heart gave a clench at the baby's giggles, and he found himself glancing over at you before he even realized.

only to discover you were already looking at him, with a puzzled yet amused look.

"what?" you asked, your eyes trailing to the children and back.

"nothing." jason answered too quickly.

jesus. get it together, todd.

jason had an odd fixation with your stomach right now. you noticed immediately; the hands resting on it rather than your hips, the random grazes, him cuddled into your lap with his cheek pressed against it. it was obvious and almost sudden.

you had one hand in jason's hair, the other wrapped around a particularly uninteresting work file. his head was in your lap as he traced small shapes under your shirt, staring blankly into the wall across from him. or, more of, staring at the pink bag screaming "congratulations" in bold letters resting against that wall.

“y/n,” he called out finally. “do you want kids?”

you paused, looking from your file to the head now refusing to meet your eyes. “i mean, i don’t know? we talked about this, didn’t we?”

“we did.”

“..and?”

“and i don’t know either.”

you smiled a bit. “jason, i thought you said you don’t want any?”

“i didn’t.” he replied, definitely. “but now, i..i don’t know. i guess it doesn’t sound so bad.” jason trailed off, his voice turning into a small mumble. a whisper of the truth he felt embarrassed to admit. “a little us…like, you know. a family.”

oh. your chest warmed at his words, your heart fluttering just a bit more than it usually did around him.

“you want a family?”

“if it’s with you.”

jasons words echoed off the walls, bouncing around in your mind as you processed their weight more than their meaning.

“and that’s not just the baby fever talking?”

“i don’t have–“ jason paused. “no. no, it’s not.”

“it’s not?”

jason rolled his head over, keeping it on your lap but now looking up to face you, “no. i’ve been second guessing my answer ever since that first conversation about kids. i don’t mind the thought as much as i should.”

you let out a small “huh”, comprehending his words slowly and surely.

so jason todd did want a kid–or kids?–with not just anyone, but you. it was something that he’d spent a lot of time thinking about and not a rushed decision based on too much exposure to too many cute baby-related things.

“only if you want obviously.” he added a bit hastily. “which, do you…want a family?”

you smiled at the expectant eyes. “with you? yeah.”

jason’s head perked at that. “yeah?”

“yeah. maybe a mini football team.”

jason blinked at you for a moment before he let through a small chuckle.

“or, maybe. just one.”

[gothamgraveyard]

"Babe, what, and I stress this, the fuck?"

Dick Grayson x crazygf! reader and Jason Todd x crazygf!reader

Summary: You find out that they still kind of talk to their ex. It's professional, but you're not over it.

TW: Kind of smutty, death mentioned (Jason's part)

DICK GRAYSON

"Just answer the fucking question, Dick! Did you sleep with her in the Batcave? Yes or no?”

"No!" Dick groaned, dragging his hands down his face, his voice cracking with frustration. His eyes were bloodshot. "We did not do it in the Batcave. Why the fuck are we talking about this right now? It is two in the morning!"

"Because I looked at your phone and her name is 'Babs 🌶️'!"

"That's a chili pepper! It means she handles the red-alert comms, you psychotic brat! It’s an emergency tag!"

"I don't care! It looks like a fucking sexting emoji!" You dropped to your knees on the mattress, crawling over to him and slamming your knees right into his thighs. You grabbed his jaw, fingers digging into his skin, forcing him to look at you. "Who’s the better kisser? Me or her? Don't lie to me. Did you guys used to make out on roofs? Did she use tongue? Does she do that little sigh thing I do when you touch her? Tell me!"

"Jesus Christ, Babe," Dick choked out, his chest heaving, looking genuinely stressed. "You are lightyears better. You're fucking incredible. Please, look at me, you're the only one I want. Can we please stop this?"

"No! Because I’m prettier than her, right? Obviously I’m prettier. Look at my fucking face." You shoved your face inches from his, your eyes wide. "But she’s so good with your dad! Ugh! It makes me want to vomit! She talks to Bruce, and he actually responds like a human being! I tried to talk to him last week and he treated me like I was gum on the bottom of his shoe! She has history with your fucked-up family, Dick! Did you guys fuck while you were living there? In his house?!"

"No! Never! I swear to God, never!" Dick’s hands came up, grabbing your wrists, his palms sweating. He looked completely panicked now. "Babe, please, you’re making shit up. I hate when Bruce does that to people, I literally moved to Blüdhaven to get away from him. I don't want her. I don't want any of them. I want you."

"Are you sure?" you whimpered, the anger turning desperate. You shifted, straddling his lap entirely, your bare thighs rubbing hard against his sweatpants, feeling how stiff he already was despite the stress. "Because she has that red hair. You like the red hair, don't you? Did you pull it? Did you bend her over the fucking desk in the cave?"

Dick’s grip tightened on your hips, an irritated groan escaping his lips. He was miserable that you were this upset, but the feeling of you grinding against his crotch was pushing him over the edge. "I didn't bend her over anything. Stop saying that shit, it’s making me sick. I don't give a fuck about her. Right now, I care about the fact that you’ve been screaming at me for forty minutes, your nipples are hard against my chest, and you’re tearing me apart."

"I'm upset babe, you’re friends with your fucking ex!" you snapped, tears of pure rage blurring your vision. "You talk to her every day! I feel like a fucking idiot!"

"Babe, you’re losing your fucking mind, please don't cry," Dick mumbled, his voice breaking as he pulled you down, burying his face in your neck, holding you so tight it bruised. He was completely desperate to fix it, terrified you were actually going to leave him. He nipped hard at the skin right over your collarbone. "You want to know what we did? Nothing like this. She never made me feel like this. She never made me want to rip my own hair out just to get her to shut up and take my dick."

"You're just saying that," you panted, your legs already wrapping around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer, feeling him throbbing against your cunt through his pants. "You're just trying to manipulate me because you know your body is perfect."

"I'm not manipulating you, I’m fucking begging you," he hissed, flipping you under him so fast your head hit the pillow. He pinned your hands above your head, his face paler than usual "Look at me. Look at my eyes. I will block her number right now if you want me to. I'll do whatever the fuck you want. Just tell me you're mine."

"Prove it then," you choked out, pulling at his sweatpants "Put it in me right now and make me forget her fucking name."

"Shut up," he muttered, slamming his mouth down on yours, cutting off any other unhinged theories you had left as his hand ripped his sweats down.

JASON TODD

"Who the fuck is 'Artie'?" you shrieked. "Who the fuck is she, Jason? Because I just saw a message pop up on your secure line that said 'Rain check, Big Guy,' and I know for a goddamn fact it isn't one of your freak-show brothers!"

Jason froze, his knuckles turning white around the rifle barrel. He set it down with a heavy clatter and finally looked up, his green eyes flashing. "Are you fucking kidding me right now? You’re going through my secure comms? Are you out of your goddamn mind?"

"Answer the fucking question!" You stepped right into his chest, shoving him hard enough to make his boots slide an inch "Is that Artemis? The giant Amazon? The one you were playing house with in the desert? Are you still fucking her? Why’d she call you ‘big guy’!? Your dick’s not even that big!”

"We haven’t done shit since before I even knew you existed!" Jason argued, standing up to his full height, towering over you as his chest heaved. "She’s a teammate! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Oh, a teammate? So you didn't bend her over that ancient shit in Egypt?" you screamed right back, getting entirely in his face, your chest heaving against his. "Did you taste her? Did she taste better than me? Did you love it when she pinned you down, you fucking manwhore? Tell me right now! Did you put your mouth on her?!"

"We didn't fuck in the desert! We were trying not to get killed, you crazy bitch!" Jason snapped, his eyes were glowing green. He grabbed your wrists with an iron-tight grip, his fingers digging into your skin as he shook you. "You are making up disgusting, toxic shit in your head because you're insecure! Stop fucking yelling at me about shit from six years ago!"

"Is it because I'm not as strong as her?!" you went off, completely pivoting into a breathless rant, the words tearing out of you like a flood. "Is that what it is? You want some giant warrior bitch who can toss you around? Or is it the red hair? Are you obsessed with redheads? Is that why you're always so fucking chummy with her and Roy?! Oh my god, do you want to fuck Roy too?! Are you into guys?! Because I'm not a fucking guy, Jason! I can't be a guy for you! What the fuck do you want from them, do you want a threesome or some shit?! Is that what you guys do when you're 'saving the world'?!"

"Are you fucking insane?!"  his face twisting in pure, unadulterated disgust and fury. He yanked your wrists down so hard your balance broke. 

"Then why are they always texting you?! Why are you always looking at your phone like you miss them?!" you screamed back, your face flushed, tears of absolute blind rage spilling over your eyelashes. "If you're still playing orgy with your little Outlaw club, then I guess it's fair game! I’m gonna fuck my ex!”

"Say that shit again," he snapped. "Say you’re going to go touch another man. Say you’re going to let someone else lay a hand on you. See what fucking happens to both of you. I will hunt him down and paint the fucking walls with him."

"Why do you care?!" you choked out, your heart hammering against your ribs "Go call your Amazon! Go tell Roy how crazy I am while you guys jerk each other off!"

"She was before you! And Roy is my fucking brother!" Jason groaned, you were getting so deep under his skin. "Do you not understand how time works, you idiot?! I haven’t touched her, I don't want to touch her, and I sure as hell don't want a goddamn man I consider my brother! But you want to go fuck your ex?”

"Yeah! Because you're driving me fucking insane!" you screamed back, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper into the apex of your thighs. You could feel how insanely hard he was through his sweatpants "You're a liar! You're a dirty, lying fuckboy!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Jason snarled, his hand flying from your throat to catch your jaw, his thumb digging brutally into your cheek to force your mouth open. "I am not a liar. I am fucking obsessed with you. I haven't looked at another woman since the day I went out with you, and you're being a loon”

"Prove it then," you panted, your teeth baring as you bit down lightly on his thumb "If they're nothing, text them right now telling them we broke up and if either of them offer you a pity fuck, just know you’re going to die a second time, Todd”

A/n: was this a ploy to get banged hard? yes, yes it was

[faecim]

The Classics | Jason Todd aka RedHood

You & Jason on the thread-line of friends or more. Redhood saves you and Jason's now mildly jealous of himself. _____________________________________________________________ ৎ Lit!Major Jason who is smitten with you, platonically or romantically? He doesn't know doesn't want to admit. You've been good friends for a while now. You both take long walks across the campus, discussing a wide-variety of books, from classic to super absurd. You both study together at the library, and he adores your pout and how you roll your pen with your fingers when you're confused. He loves your smile and the headbop when you finally concquer a topic.

ৎ Lit!Major Jason who saves you from crashing out during exams, non-chalantly serving you with the best-and-most--helpful notes and summary pdfs that save your ass cause he probably takes all lectures properly ৎ Lit!Major Jason who tries out new burgers with you every friday, this friday was messy habibi burger. He can and does spend hours talking to you about any and every topic includingggg superheroes. Yuppp, he tries so hard to hide his stupidly big smile when you shit-talk batman, calling him hypocritical, almosttt a criminal himself, comparing him and all other heroes/vigilantes to little attention freaks. "A friend to everyone is a friend to none, so how can he save everyone's life without that leading to the ruin of some other lives? I know not my best analogy, but Gotham needs more long-term solutions, this short-team beat their bones and get applauded by everyone alone is no good." Jason nodded, as you continued. ৎ Lit!Major Jason who is out patrolling as redhood and sees a familiar face.

Is that- Is that YOU getting mugged? He shouldn't be happy, but he is. Would you recognize him? You're wearing a mask Jason, he's rolling his own eyes at his own stupidity. ౨ Lit!Major Jason OR Redhood who strikes the guy at the back of his neck, resulting in him falling to the ground with a loud thud. He takes a look at you, his heart beat rapid (ba-dump, ba-dump like a teenager seeing their crush.) He's suprised and probably proud to see you give the guy a good kick in the nuts, before snatching your bag off of his hand and muttering a quick thanks to redhood before hurridly leaving.

ৎ Lit!Major Jason who listens as you retell this story in the library, and he can't help becoming a tomato when you utter the words, "I know I said most "heros/vigilantes" with air commas are lowk righteous bitches, but redhood is lowk a fine bitch!"

ৎ Lit!Major Jason who since then offers to walk you back home every night. Even when you've got separate schedules, he lies and comes back around campus till you're done to drop you back home. You both are beaming chatter boxes on your way back, and sometimes dull horse-shit filled socks when it's a particularly tiring day.

ৎ Lit!Major Jason who sometimes has a strong urge to open up to you, tell you all of it, his childhood, bruce, resurrection, and his feelings that he's insanely in denial of.

He has thought of writing his life within a book, multiple times. He could fake-pretend hire you as a beta-reader and ask your opinion, and indirectly talk to you about his life. But he isn't that depraved, not yet anyways. For now he's happy admiring from afar, as long you still trust him, love him, and consider him your Jason. ৎ Lit!Major Jason who notices you talking more about redhood lately, "atleast he accepts that he's a criminal too, unlike batman." ౨ Lit!Major Jason who sees you reading lights-out (cough,cough) and unlike usual, instead of going off about how glorious or pathetic the book is, you instantly put it back in your tote bag when he sees you. It piques his curiosity, just like the internet hunting down the hiding couple at the coldplay concert . Same day, he's at the bookstore getting himself a copy of Lights Out as well.

Have you ever thought of Redhood while reading it? The question plagues his mind, and he's now immsensely jealous of his masked-self

____________________________ a/n: i made up lit!major jason todd to help me study but instead i got super distracted by him :( i do think Jason would be in a crime-related degree asw, multi-degree man, but that's all for another day.