obsessed with tumblr writers...

jason todd asking for permission every time he goes to kiss you.

jason todd holding you by the hips every single time he does anything near you.

jason todd waiting for you outside of work every afternoon in his restored 1969 ford mustang fastback in cherry red.

jason todd calling you his wife years before you even marry, because he said it once and now he can’t stop himself.

jason todd begging on his knees to be forgiven after every fight, regardless of whether he’s right or not.

jason todd who doesn’t take anyone’s shit talk — except yours, because he finds you funny.

jason todd who loves giving you massages after a stressful day. working your knots out helps him relax.

jason todd who did a stake-out outside of your place once when you were a teenager, and he won’t ever tell you he saw you smile when he texted you.

jason todd making you cookies because you told him you liked them once years ago and he still makes them the same — burnt on the outside and chewy on the inside.

jason todd only shares his earbuds with you. he has a playlist dedicated to you.

jason todd has a mixtape with your name on it he never gave you because he got too embarrassed as a teenager.

jason todd who calls you beautiful no matter how you look. he doesn’t care you’ve got snot coming out of your nose or blood in your mouth, he loves you regardless.

Jason Todd x fem!reader

MDNI summary: wrong send trend warnings: suggestive content, (arkham knight jason in mind), a bit silly, no y/n used, reader is NOT cheating a/n: i swear tiktok gives me new ideas every day, i can't keep up

It's been a long week— no, it's been a few long weeks for you. Coming back from grueling patrol where you had to discuss every possible plan with Jason, just to go back at night and start the whole thing again, made you more jumpy and irritated in the past few days. You didn't hate patrolling the city, or having to beat down several muggers every night, no. You mostly hated the way Jason always felt like the one who knew things better than you.

Every plan has to go his way, unless you have another 'hyper-intelligent' take, that he probably won't take in consideration after all. He only trusts your instinct on rare occasions, when the situation isn't as life threatening or serious as usual. He won't even trust your food choices whenever you order take out for mission planning! It's like he never trusts you, but needs a patrol partner anyway.

Then there's this guy that keeps texting you, trying to get to know you better, and being needy most of the time. Asking for pics, videos, audios— although you only ever sent the first two, without any sound on, leaving him greedy for more. You didn't mind the lust. The attention, the constant hunger from someone else. Unfortunately— or not, you can't decide yet— you kept texting a little over the weeks, exchanging some stuff and not being anything serious. Just to get some relief every now and then, even if it's just through text.

No one knows about this, and it would be weird if you told Jason any of this any way. Up until you accidentally switch your texts and send the wrong guy an explicit short video of your wet pussy getting rubbed sensually with your fingers.

You don't even realise before glancing back at your phone, blinking confused at the text beneath the video.

'I asked for intel, but this works, too' What? You still don't realise your mistake until the other guy's text appears above, asking what these photos of files mean, thinking it's a joke. Thank god he didn't read through the files... wait.

'Is this what you've been doing instead of research?' Jason messages again, making you panic and throw your phone back on your mattress. What a way to ruin your mood. And possibly lose all respect from your patrol partner.

Another moment of panicked silence passes by before you dare to pick up your phone again, checking to see if anyone else messaged you yet. Nothing has seemingly changed for now, and you settle on deleting the video from Jason' chat, before quickly writing a sorry excuse to the other guy and telling him you're busy right now.

Your hands are shaking. How could you possibly make such a mistake? Is it possible to be this tired to switch up texts like that? There isn't enough time to panic and be embarrassed, so you pick up your phone again to check on the chat with Jason. 'I asked for intel, but this works, too'

So, he isn't mad or freaked out? Is he flirting? Or just too tired to be mad and brushes it off? You can't tell, but before you can find something to say, another text pops up.

'Already deleted it?' 'What, too shy all of a sudden?'

'Wrong person, sorry.' You eventually answer back and stare at your screen, unable to control your racing heartbeat in your ribs. This is worse than any high stake mission.

'Oh, really?' Jason starts again, clearly teasing you now. 'Never held you for a person like that'

What does that mean now? Is he judging you? You ask him exactly that, waiting for him to elaborate. But he simply deflects, giving you and entirely different answer.

'Just open your window. Living room.'

←MASTERLIST

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.

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taglist: open

masterlist

summary: Between medical debts, screaming babies and smashed car windows, newly single mother! Reader has hit her breaking point. It isn’t until she meets the mysteriously handsome mechanic that her luck starts turning up.

tags: Hurt/comfort, mechanic !Jason Todd x single mom! Reader, Slowburn, kinda, parenthood’s, fluff, crack, self indulgent. Very very fluffy. Slight slight angst

dividers by honeylovesw

A/n: this was supposed to be done ages ago but here you are! Things are gonna be coming out a bit slower guys, obly because I’ve been overrun with assignments recently :(. I hope you like it!

Jason was supposed to be gone a week ago and yet—he's still in Gotham. There's a cigarette balanced between his two fingers, held up by his teeth as he inhales the smoke and soot. He can imagine it going down into his rotten lungs—or maybe there's nothing inside of him but rotting, maybe just an empty space. Logic says no but he can't help but think: what's left of a corpse anyways?

He hasn't spent any of his birthdays in Gotham—not since he's died anyways—and he doesn't intend on breaking the pattern. He hasn't talked much to any of the bats this month, just the most minimal conversation possible when they spot him on patrol. The most he's talked with anyone is Oracle and that's only because he doesn't have the energy to deal with her if she gets annoyed at him and starts tracking everything.

He's kept his phone—the personal one for messaging specifically them—on silent. He considered taking it apart until there was nothing left to track or contact him with. He almost did but gave up before he could commit.

The wind is blowing in his face and the cigarette he was balancing falls off of the building. He watches it until it falls so far away he can't see it anymore; Jason wonders what would happen if he fell too. He's on the highest building in Gotham—second highest since he knows there are cameras on the Wayne Industry buildings. It's a long way down.

He doesn't really have to wonder about it, actually; he already knows; he studied this—physics and all. At this height his body would be hit with so much force by the time he reached the ground he'd turn into an unrecognisable mangled mess of a thing. The bats probably wouldn't even recognise him unless they did a DNA test. They might not, just a suicide case. Logic says there's a good enough possibility of it and he doesn't want to wake up in the cave whenever his body starts up again.

He chooses to smoke another cigarette. He looks down to his pocket and takes out the pack. With a new cigarette in his mouth he slips out his lighter—an antique one in an apple shape—and lights the cigarette, letting his hand linger to long and close to the flame before putting away again.

At the top of this building it's cold and the oxygen is starting to thin. He doesn't have his jacket and can barely breathe let alone while smoking. Jason doesn't really care. Maybe if he loses consciousness he'll fall over and it won't be his decision. Probably wont. It's nice up here and he might stay long enough to see the sunrise. He'll leave before the 16th comes.

Jason: “Of course I do. Come talk to me baby.”

You sit on Jason’s lap and watch him stitch up a wound in his side. It was a rough night of patrol. The gash on his side was deeper than he thought. Even as he tended to his wounds, he still made time to listen to you.

You: “Do you need help with that?”

Jason: “No, baby, I’m fine. Start talking.”

You: “One of my coworkers asked for me to hangout Saturday, but as you know, I’m already going to brunch in the morning. And I’m also going out with my girls Friday night. And my coworker is kinda annoying but she is so kind. She’s new to the city too, so I kinda feel bad if I tell her no. On top of that, I’ve become too important at work so they are starting to ask me to do more stuff. Hellooooo, they do not pay me ‘do more stuff’ money. I cannot even right now, it’s too much to think about and I don’t know what to do.”

Jason: “You have some big decisions to make huh?”

Knowing each other then dating and so slowly yet so naturally growing closer and closer until his 250lbs of muscle is laying on top of you in your shared bed like a weighted blanket

His head buried in your neck as he naps, arms wrapped around you

Thinking about Jason Todd finding your 'dream boyfriend' list.

While you were at work, he decided to be a good boyfriend and clean up the apartment. As he was throwing away some garbage, a particular piece of paper, hastily folded and carefully hidden, caught his attention.

Jason should put it back where he found it, he reasoned, but the effort you had put into hiding it did nothing to dim his curiosity.

After looking behind him, as if he were afraid you had somehow magically appeared, he opened it, already regretting violating your privacy. But what he found made it worth it.

Oh, so worth it.

The page was titled 'dream boyfriend', written in a loopy handwriting, using glitter gel pens of different colors. Underneath it, a long list of attributes.

- taller than me

- well read (accompanied by many, many exclamation points)

- worships me

- loves me (optional)

- romantic

- polite

- yummy thighs

- doesn't have social media

A smile creeped on his face as he kept reading the list, all of his previous worries about it long forgotten.

He knows you love him — you've made that clear many times before — but seeing you basically describing him as your dream boyfriend even before the two of you even met, made a warm feeling spread through his chest.

The day goes by, and when you finally come back home, he's so happy to see you and spend the rest of the night reading a book while you do the same, with your legs on his lap for him to hold, that he forgets he never got around to putting the list back where he had found it.

The realization hits him when you go to your room to change and come back to the living room shortly after with an embarrassed look on your face.

"Umm, love?"

"Yes, angel?"

"That piece of paper, did you, umm- Did you read it?"

Now it's his turn to be embarrassed, as he scratches the back of his neck and his ears turn red.

"...Yes," he admits.

You groan loudly, covering your face with your hands, hoping the ground will swallow you whole.

Jason pulls you in for a hug, gently placing a kiss on the top of your head.

"Please kill me," you mumble, your face still buried in his chest.

"It's not that bad," he reasons.

Then, unable to restrain himself any longer, he adds, "Yummy thighs?"

A/N: Got asked to write a Jason version, and I'm not ashamed to admit that some of the items come straight from my own list.

"The poor fool realised too late that those kinds of shortcuts never pan out."

Detective Comics #569

he is so tiny 🥺

Detective comics #670

he shouldve let him kill joker. jaybin oh you've no ideas about what was to come huh

Detective comics # 571 i used to use this pic of jason with his lil red cap on aas my discord profile pic

detective comics #573

awww look at him

Batman #410

why does he lowk look like a puppet

Batman Annual #12 im sad :( he doesn't have friends

batman:the cult #1 im scared cus jaybin death is looming he was just a lil guy

i'd see all these screenshots of jaybin all the time on Pinterest, the way i finally read those comics

jason todd can never fuck you without seeing your face.

he works himself up just to lean himself all the way over, breaking his neck just to kiss you. ignoring how his bones ached in protest and his hips bucked.

at first you think he’s just being sweet, not letting you suck him off because he wants you closer, or making you lay on your back instead of your stomach. his eyes watching yours and trailing across your face as though it was all he needed.

even when you closed your eyes, basked in the feeling of him and tried to get used to the stretch. jason didn’t even need words when they failed you, instead he read your face. felt how you tensed and your hands grabbed at his back. he cooed a response out of you.

“that feel good ma?” rasping with difficulty as you gasped softly. then you nodded and he cupped your cheek, voice soft as feathers as he spoke to you. “can you tell me how it feels?”

a shudder runs through you as he shifts his hips just barely. “good. it feels really, really good.”

then he smiles and rolls onto his back, pulling you into his lap as he did it. you sink back onto him so easily this time, sighing in unison as he seated himself fully inside. his hands fell to your ass, taking cupfuls as you fluttered your lashes at him when he began moving you. slowly at first but quickly his movements grew more frantic as the sounds rumbled from his chest and echoed through your skin, penetrating your thoughts in the same way he did your body.

jason loves to watch you lost yourself in it, seeing the hunger grow from your shyness and fucks you til you’re begging him for more. because you are as insatiable as he is and even more is never enough.

after he coaxes you through an orgasm and stares through half lidded eyes, you try changing the position yourself. though you fail, collapsing onto his chest and begging for more with that hoarse tone in your voice that told him you were exhausted.

jason could never deny his sweet girlfriend from his touch could he?

pulling off his lap, he moved to situate himself over you once again. pulling out just for a moment while you flop onto your stomach, sighing into the pillow dreamily. he blinks as he hovers over you, hand grazing your side as he says your name. swallowing thickly as the sight of you arching for him, stomach flat on the mattress as you pulled your arms under the pillow, burying your face into it and got more comfortable.

jason breathes heavier as he rasps. “i wanna see your face too princess, come on.”

though you only hum and murmur something that sounded like ‘mm too tired’. jason snakes his arm under your chest and pulls you up by your throat, not enough to hurt, but just enough to coax. your hand slides behind you, guiding his throbbing length through your puffy folds before sinking back onto him. sucking him in and moaning as you arch your back further. jason nearly chokes on his spit and pulls your face towards him, craning his neck just to kiss you even as you start to fold in on yourself when he picks up the pace.

the sound of his skin on yours is obscene, the pace he keeps is relentless. his eyes watch your shut ones as pushed you into another orgasm and reach your peak with a whimper. jason swallows the sweet sound from between your lips and lets your hands weakly tug at his hair at the crown of his neck more harshly than you’d intended.

the pain doesn’t bother him then. if anything, the sting reminds him you’re still there.

when you’re limp against him, shuddering from the feeling, he lets you gently onto the sheets. jason manhandles you onto your back again, fucking you right as you’re blissed out on him, humming with his name on your tender lips from how hard he’d been kissing you from behind. he’s rougher with you now that he can see your face fully again. that was exactly what he needed to tip over the edge. he moans your name out broken, dark hair sticking to his forehead as his perfect heterochromic eyes bore into your glazed ones.

“you’re so perfect ma,” he whimpers gorgeously. “god, you’re so beautiful.”

though the fucked out grin you gave him made him sputter and groan. hips stuttering as he gave powerful thrusts into you and let go, painting your walls a milky white you could practically taste. even then his eyes are open, arms braced by your head so he didn’t crush you with his weight and also to continue to see your face as your mouth gaped open in a silent moan. tongue touching the tip of your top teeth before you giggled at him weakly. grazing your fingernails up his back as he shudders again and continues to thrust into you like he couldn’t resist, not when he’s got you under him like this.

you have to pull him to lay all the way down so he is laying over you, his weight like a heavy blanket that could lull you to sleep. dick so good it sends you into full rem quickly.

though when you wake up in the morning, jason’s laying on his side, his hand draped over your waist as your leg hung over his. and his eyes were set right on yours, lips ready to say your name like it had taken permanent residence on his tongue.

➤ OH, TO BE BETWEEN YOUR TITS .ᐟ

synopsis ⠀:: ⠀ when you hug their face in your boobs.

including ⠀! ⠀ dick grayson. jason todd. tim drake. damian wayne. ✶

contents ⠀! ⠀ fem reader. nsfw. obsessive characters. the boys being phatethic and in love. masterlist. english is not my first language. ✶

DICK GRAYSON

he's so fucking touch starved it's not even funny. like yeah he's dick grayson, everybody loves him, he's got that charming smile, but when's the last time someone just held him? really held him? not because he was bleeding out or because the world was ending but just because he needed it.

so when you're sitting on the couch and he comes home from patrol, still wired, jaw tight, that little crease between his eyebrows that he gets when he's been thinking too hard—

you don't say anything. you just reach up, grab the back of his neck, and pull his face right into your chest.

he makes this sound. this broken little exhale. like all the air just left his body at once.

his hands come up immediately, gripping your waist, and he just melts. face pressed into the soft swell of your cleavage, nose buried in your sternum, and you feel his whole body go slack against you. his shoulders drop. his breathing slows. his fingers curl into the fabric of your shirt.

"fuck," he mumbles, voice muffled against your skin. "needed this."

you're wearing one of those low cut tops and he's not even being sexual about it at first. he's just breathing you in. his lips are parted against the curve of your breast, warm breath fanning over your skin, and his eyes are closed.

you run your fingers through his hair, scratch his scalp the way he likes, and he groans. deep and rumbling, vibrating right through your skin.

"hard day?" you ask.

he doesn't answer. just nuzzles closer, turns his head, and presses his mouth right over your nipple through the thin fabric.

oh...

his tongue flicks out, wetting the material, and you feel his hips twitch against your thigh. he's getting hard. just from this. just from being close to you like this.

so cute.

"let me," he whispers, already pulling your top down, and then his mouth is on bare skin and he's gone.

he doesn't rush. he's so earnest about it. worshipping your tits is a privilege he's been granted. he licks and sucks and moans against your skin, leaving wet patches everywhere, pulling your nipple into his mouth and rolling his tongue over it until it's hard and aching.

"pretty," he breathes against you. "so fuckin' pretty. taste so good."

he switches to the other breast, gives it the same attention, and his hips are rolling against your thigh now, grinding slow and desperate. he's not even trying to get off. he's just feeling the moment.

when he finally pulls back, his lips are swollen, his hair's a mess, and there's drool on his chin.

"better?" you ask, smiling.

he laughs, a little breathless. "yeah. sorry. got carried away."

you pull him back in.

he doesn't complain.

I like to think that Gothamites have a very particular accent. It’s really similar to the new yorker accent but far more raw. I'd say, r’s are rolled lazilly, and a’s sound too much like e’s in some words. 

Somehow, this accent does not show when Bruce Wayne or Tim Drake talk, but your boyfriend JASON TODD? That man, who grew up in Crime Alley, can’t escape the accent even if he wanted to; and somehow, mixed with his deep, growling voice, he could just say “hello” and you’d melt on the spot.

It’s almost hypnotizing, listening to him talking nonsense while doing house chores, like cleaning or cooking. You look at him with your eyes locked on his moving mouth, and your own ajar, almost drooling. 

He could go hours talking about his books, complaining about Bruce or commenting on some gossip you had brought from work. Every single word that comes out of his mouth strikes directly into you and makes your legs weak. 

The nicknames are the best: doll, sweet face, babe.... They’re always low and slow. He drags each name teasingly, torturously. You always hum as an answer, enlightened to hear him, with his mesmerizing voice, calling you like that. 

Even if it's just your name—way better if it’s just your name. In this case he could either be exhausted, angry, or just teasing you with an irresistible smirk on his face. He always says your name an octave lower; he usually has his head tilted downward, and his blue-green eyes look at you through his eyelashes. 

You love your man’s voice and worship every single word he says, only because he sounds and looks so fucking sexy it should be illegal.  

© llovelygood

A/N: idk people, yesterday night I saw a TikTok of a girl explaining the New Yorker accent and I had to write this, I have no idea what this is, might delete later