cryptid witch

One-Shots

Heat of the Moment- even in the midst of a heatwave, your boyfriend somehow finds it in him to be clingy

The Hoodie Betrayal- jason comes home to the worst situation imaginable… you hearing another vigilante’s hoodie

Even in the Darkest Nights- when you get the call from dick that jason is in the hospital, your whole world stops spinning and nothing- nothing- could tear you away from his side

Subtlety is My Middle Name- jason thought you didn’t know he was red hood. he preferred to keep it that way for now. you knew that jason was red hood. you just figured he didn’t like to talk about it all that much

Thoughts

Grounded- jason todd, who always has a hand on you when you’re out in public

Cross Every Line- jason todd, who would do anything for you

Affections- jason todd, who loves to give you kisses

Helping Hand- jason todd, who goes out of his way to make your life easier

Y/N: Dear Santa, I'm writing to let you know I've been naughty... And it was worth it you fat, judgemental bastard.

Jason: *wiping away a tear* That’s my girl

A/N - loved doing this if you want more send in an ask as I’m new to Jason

Mommy Kink! Jason - needs someone to tell him what to do so bad

Mommy Kink! Jason - can shoot a gun and do atrocities but wants big titties to snuggle into at night

Mommy Kink! Jason - can’t really articulate what he needs but you know and he always cries when you’re soft

Mommy Kink! Jason - told himself he was nothing but his mommy tells him he’s worth everything

Mommy Kink! Jason - often gets nightmares of death or flashes of the pits and suckles on a nipple to feel better

Mommy Kink! Jason - can be tough if he has someone to go home to

Mommy Kink! Jason - is whiny in private, needy, practically a brat

Can you do the Batboys x fem reader with this prompt?

Person A: *trying to fix something* "hey could you give me a hand?

Person B: sure! *Holds their hand*

Person A: your cute but that's not what I ment

That’s Not… Okay Sure

Batfam x Female Reader

Clark Kent x Female Reader

Includes: Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, and Damian Wayne

A/N: Very cute anon, I really kinda love how this one came out! BUT i am almost positive my spelling mistakes are worse than normal because I didn't proof read (so sorry). But I am kinda loving the quote requests.

Same rules as always with quote prompts. I will attempt to keep the vibe of the original quote, but some changes will be made to keep it feeling fresh for each person.

My first fic yall!! First post too.

It’s mostly crack, not proofread I wrote this today, and shit, please don’t bully me.

Tags: Jason Todd is red hood, violence, cursing, fem reader, reader has unhinged grandmother, eventual angst and smut, crack, rom com ig? Enjoy.

Chapter 1. Stabbing Red Hood.

☆゙ ALL THE DAMN TIME #𝟢𝟢𝟨

──────── SYNOPSIS ⚘ 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝟤𝟦/𝟩.

𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 . 𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗒𝗌𝗈𝗇. 𝗃𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈𝖽𝖽. 𝗍𝗂𝗆 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗄𝖾. 𝖽𝖺𝗆𝗂𝖺𝗇 𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗇𝖾.

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 . 𝖿𝖾𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋. 𝗈𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝗒𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾. 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗑𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇. 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍. 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿. 𝗎𝗇𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗍𝗁𝗒 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗁𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌. 𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝗆𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾. 𝖾𝗇𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝗂𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗀𝖾. ⠀ᰔ

𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍 . 𝟥.𝟦𝗄

DICK GRAYSON

You're going to kill him.

Like actually physically kill him.

"Again?" he laughs, that bright, easy laugh that made you fall for him in the first place.

Oh god oh fuck you're horny again.

Don't get him wrong, he's not complaining. He's never complaining. He loves you. He worship you. He gets off on making you cum.

But his dick is literally chafed and he's running on two hours of sleep and a protein bar he ate between round three and round four and—

You're already tugging at his belt.

His belt. Which he just buckled. Thirty seconds ago.

He's hard again.

How?

How is he hard again?

He's not twenty anymore, he's pushing thirty, his knees click when he does certain positions, he pulled a hamstring last week doing that thing you like where he folds you like a pretzel—okay, he has been slacking lately BUT it's your fault because you don't even let him leave the house—

"No, no, baby, I'm— I'm not complaining," he says, already breathless, already getting to his knees because you've got that look, with glassy eyes, and pouty lips, "I just— hah— give me five minutes? Ten? I need to rehydrate, I need to—"

"You don't want me?"

What?

The words hit him like a bullet to his chest.

No. No no no no. Don't ever say that. Don't ever think that. He wants you. He wants you so much it's ruining him. He wants you when he's asleep, wants you when he's awake, wants you when he's bleeding out on a rooftop wondering if he'll make it home in time to taste you before patrol—

He's already got his mouth on you. Already. Didn't even make a conscious decision. His body just moved because his body wants you and your pleasure, your smile, the little gasp you make when he gets it just right—

"I want you," he mumbles into your thigh, "I want you, I want you, I want you, don't ever say I don't, I'll— I'll prove it, I'll stay down here all night, I don't need sleep, sleep is for people who aren't dating a goddess, I'll just—"

You pull him up by his hair. He whimpers. He whimpers like a puppy because his girlfriend touched his scalp.

God, he's pathetic.

He loves it.

He loves you.

"You were saying something about rehydrating?" you ask, and your voice is teasing but your hand is wrapped around him and his vision goes sparkly at the edges.

"Who cares—ah fuck," he hears himself say, "I-I don't...ugh... Give a f-fuck."

And later, when he's lying on top of you, every muscle screaming, a single tear is rolling down his cheek, because fuck he's overstimulated, He press his lips to your sweaty forehead.

"You're gonna break me someday, you know that?"

You smile.

"That's the plan,"

His dick twitch again, and he'll laugh hysterically into your hair because he's the luckiest man walking in the entire goddamn world.

dick grayson

Unbearably touchy. Like, if he’s near you, he HAS to have a hand on your body, mostly for personal comfort and grounding. His go to spot is the small of your back, using it to guide you through places softly and when he wants to show your relationship to others when he gets a tinge of jealousy.

PDA fein. Doesn’t know how to keep it cool and nonchalant, but he made sure it wasn’t something that made you uncomfortable too. This lead to having a golden retriever wrapped around your shoulders in public 75% of the time.

Do not let his charm and confidence fool you, he isn’t above pleading to cuddle with you even if its 37 ºC outside and the AC is broken.

Dick’s willing to do anything to feel your hands glide across his body, doesn’t matter the circumstances (he’s a man in love, hat can he say)

jason todd

Used to love hugs as a kid and would giggle with the BIGGEST smile when grandmas pulled at his cheeks or people petted his head when he did a great job as robin. When he got resurrected all of that changed completely and got actually repulsed and disgusted with the idea of feeling other’s hands or presence near his. Took a lot of therapy to regain the feeling of tolerating a person’s body near his.

He’s now tolerably clingy. He’s not likely to initiate a full-blown cuddle session but he also will never in his life back away when you spread your hands across his shoulders to greet him with a gentle caress.

Nevertheless, when you arrive home after a long day, he is the first one to pull you into his body to completely shield you from the world, tangling his fingers in your hair to bring you some sort of comfort.

Absolutely adores nonsexual intimacy as a whole. Being right beside one another just touching each other without a hint of lust is pretty much his dream. LOVES feeling your weight on top of him, one of the most comfortable things ever.

He’s also quite shy with his scars, so when you trail your hands across the ridge of one, he has the involuntary tendency to back away for a bit, habit that changed after years together and lots of reassurance.

tim drake

Cheek kisser. In his mind, the cheek is where he can kiss you anywhere without it being considered very public or outward. It’s very personal for him, okay? Just let him kiss your cheek and kiss his in return.

Loves having your legs placed on his lap while he’s working away at whatever. His hands will absentmindedly start drawing circles on your muscles, bringing comfort for the both of you in an easy, calming way.

His dream date with you is just hanging out with the other, sharing soft touches and having private conversations about everything and nothing at all. He likes feeling your body near his, warm limbs stretching over his body.

His all-time favourite cuddling position is having your head on top of his chest, either laying there and tracing patterns on his body or you looking up at him, just staring in each other eyes fondly (he still believes the eyes are the entrance to the soul).

He’s pretty open to PDA, really, really chill with it. Hand on your waist, clasping your hands together, he likes both being touchy-feely and not being touched at all. He goes with the flow.

damian wayne

Will absolutely refuse to touch you except the occasional graze until the two of you are dating and have had a long conversation about boundaries and how you feel about certain things. After he gets the green lights, he’ll be like a stray kitten, slowly but surely experimenting with what the both of you enjoy and find relaxing and reassuring.

FOREHEAD KISSES. Whenever you two see each other, automatically you tilt your head in a way that he has learnt that is an indicator for him to press his lips to the top of your head. Will also be content with a kiss to the back of your hand, but he reserves that for more intimate moments for the two of you.

Nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck is his love language at this point. The second you step inside the safety of your home, he steps away from what he’s doing to greet you properly and exhale deeply into your neck, using the opportunity to press a kiss there too.

Loves cuddling while each one is doing their own thing; is definitely more of a quality time guy but gets clingy regularly (refuses to admit it).

roy harper

He’s a MAN: if you are in the vicinities, you WILL have his hand splayed either on your thighs or your waist, depending on how it’s more comfortable to you.

Roy’s more subtle with his clinginess, so cuddle sessions are a bit rarer but very welcome either way.

Doesn’t shy away from PDA. If you two are dating, everybody knows it not because of how you two are always together on some random side quest, but rather by the knowing smile on his face and a firmer hold on you.

Likes to carry you around, doesn’t matter if the activity is a one-person task, you are either in his back, his shoulders or his arms. Also uses the opportunity to make a subtle display of his strength, but don’t tell him you are very much aware of that.

you noticed that you couldn't move. you blinked slowly, staring at the ceiling as your sleepy brain pieced together why.

an arm was wrapped securely around your waist.

another was tucked beneath your pillow.

one of jason's legs had somehow ended up tangled with yours.

"…jason."

nothing.

you tilted your head just enough to glance over your shoulder.

his face was half-buried against the back of your neck, dark hair sticking up in every direction. his breathing was slow and even, though you were almost positive he wasn't actually asleep anymore.

you smiled to yourself.

"jason."

a low hum vibrated against your shoulder.

"so you are awake."

"no."

link to part one

pairing: jason todd x fem!reader. reader is a vigilante working under batman.

summary: it’s the weeks following that intense night spent together… Jason and you haven’t seen each other at all. the both of you have been dancing around things, but after he’s been seeing you with some other guy lately, things explode the same way it did the last time…

word count: 3,768

tags: smut, stalker ish jason, p in v, reader is bent over, hair pulling, scratching, angsty, angry sex, unprotected sex (don’t do this pls), creampie, kissing/making out, jason’s hands on reader’s throat lightly, jason finally removes that damn helmet, hickeys, jealous!jason, dirty talk, jason says “good girl”, aftercare

dividers by @designlikenonsense !

The two of you have barely talked since that night. As the weeks went by, you had found yourself even busier than usual, with all these missions piling up one after the other. Well, that was how you justified not talking to him.

You wonder if Jason has regretted that night, if maybe that was why he’s been distant. Or maybe he’s just as busy, but you haven’t even intervened on one single mission of his, because there was nothing to intervene. Maybe he’s just being a little more discreet than usual. 

If he could be this discreet now, does that mean that all those other times he’s actually been purposely trying to get caught? No. That thought sounded stupid to you, and so you pushed it away. You make you way to the cave, wanting to busy yourself with all of Batman’s tasks, just for some sort of distraction. 

As your walking to the cave, lost in thought, you think that if you two have talked, would it happen again? And what did that night exactly mean anyway? Well, all you knew was that you had revealed to yourself some pretty conflicting feelings towards Jason. Still, you tried your hardest to get your mind off things, which is what you assumed you needed the most right now. 

Your gaze landed on not only Batman or Alfred, but also a face that you’re unfamiliar with. He had unruly dark brown hair, and his whole appearance looked put together professionally. Batman turned to you, arising from his chair. “This is a detective from Gotham Central’s Police Department.”

The man gave you a polite smile, and you returned the gesture. “Hey. You can jus’ call me Bennett.”

You nod, turning to Batman. “He’s one of my trusted contacts, and is here to help investigate a string of murders around the city that all follow some sort of strict pattern. I have assigned this mission to the both of you because Bennett has access to evidence and crime scenes, and you can work outside the law.”

“Therefore we cover both sides of the investigation,” you add. 

“Should probably get fixin’ to the precinct, first things first. I’ve got a call from over there sayin’ some new intel jus’ dropped.” Bennett stated, hands finding their way into his pockets. 

“Right.” Batman says, pausing as he looks between the two of you. “Update me.” 

The day goes by, and honestly it seems this served as a great distraction because you haven’t thought of Jason once. Your mind has been completely locked onto the case, which both you and Bennett are speeding through, and it already shows you make a great team despite having only met earlier that day.

As the sun dips into the sky, you and Bennett are in his office, gathering all the evidence and discussing the possible suspects from the day’s investigation. It feels as if solving this case wouldn’t be too difficult, but still, Rome wasn’t built in a day, and you have much to go over.

Glancing up from Bennett’s desk, you see others already turning off their lights and packing up their bags and heading out. Bennett doesn’t look up, eyes focused solely on attempting to analyse whatever this piece of evidence meant.

“If you have other duties, you can go on and tend to them. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He flashes his crooked smile, eyes meeting yours.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll wait for you.” You insist, and Bennett just shrugs in response eyes dropping back to the papers in front of him. You find yourself walking over to the little window in his office, your tired gaze settling on all the dark buildings of Gotham. Some nicely done, some looking beat-up and run down.

Looking over Gotham, your thoughts find its way to Jason. It’s like no matter how hard you tried that day, at the end of the day, it’ll all go back to him. You know it’s unlikely you’ll see him again after all that time, but even just a glimpse of him wouldn’t be so bad.

Bennett spins in his chair, getting up and starts to pack. “Somethin’ on your mind?” He drawls, in no hurry to put all these papers away. You leave the window, shutting the blinds and help him.

“It’s nothing. I’m just glad we got so much done in just a day.” 

“Well, couldn’t have done it without you.” He says, hand coming up to pat your back. You smile at him, a rare and warm smile you don’t usually give people. 

The two of you walk out of the precinct, cracking small jokes and talking about nothing in particular. Bennett offers to walk you home, but you say it’s fine as you were planning to do a quick little patrol after all this. The both of you end up deciding on coffee.

Bennett shows you to his favourite cafe in a quieter part of Gotham, one that’s open 24/7. The barista seems familiar with Bennett, and you note internally that he’s a friendly person. Nothing overt, just constant warmth to the people around him. It makes you look at Gotham in a new light, and that maybe this city wasn’t far from saving at all.

You take the cup from the barista, feeling the heat from the coffee pass on to your freezing hands. It sends a shock through you, the sudden flowing sensation of warmth, as you’ve grown numb to the cold after all these nights out in the city. It reminds you of Jason. His hands on you that night— a little cold, but much more warmer than yours.

Bennett laughs. “You alright?” 

Mustering up a soft smile, you nod. “Just a little cold, that’s all.” 

You walk him to his place—the smaller, warmer side of Gotham now long gone and all you saw was its usual darkness and gloomy streets. You had already scoffed down the rest of your coffee, needing it to stay awake for patrol after this. Bennett thanks you for walking him home, but before he closes his door, he gives you one last look. 

“Good work today.” He says, nodding. The door slams closed, the booming sound knocking you back into reality.

Jason woke up that morning with his head already aching, mind finding its way back to you. Even after all these weeks apart, he still couldn’t stop thinking about you.

He knew well that it was all his fault— he was the one avoiding you. He even did his missions elsewhere just so he wouldn’t risk running into you. And even with all these thoughts of debating whether or not he should actually make himself known, he still decides against it.

His hand threads through his messy hair, then drags down his face in an attempt to fully wake himself up. Another night spent thinking only of you, then thinking he’s better off keeping his distance after that night.

A part of him wonders what would’ve happened if he had let you take off his helmet that night. The other part of him assumes the worst. That you’d suddenly stop wanting him after he could feel you realising that you did want him, that you realising how you feel was all for nothing.

A train rattles nearby, rain dripping through a cracked ceiling in the worn out place he crashed into for the night. Jason feels the same impulsive urge to just find you, tell you how he feels and take that damn helmet off, but he quickly pushes the thought away. He knows that showing up reveals that he’s been thinking about you, that he’s been wanting you, and the thought of vulnerability scared him.

Jason was afraid, though he’d never admit it to your face or even to himself. He was afraid that showing you the broken man behind the helmet would reopen old wounds. Revealing himself to you would make things too real. And he didn’t know if he could afford that, not after everything.

Forcing himself up, he drags himself through the shabby warehouse. A shattered remnant of a mirror on the floor stops him from moving any further, so he picks it up, staring at the man in the mirror.

Deep down, Jason knows that if he sees you again, fucks you again, he wouldn’t be able to trust himself to keep the helmet on. You hadn’t even sought out to find him, so why should he even bother thinking of you anymore?

But really, it’s not that simple, and his reflection in the mirror shows that. He lets it fall to the ground, then crushes it under his boot. He picks up his helmet, cleanly sliding it on.

Readying up his motorcycle, he takes one last glance at the abandoned warehouse, then drives off.

Jason spent half of the day gathering intel on some corruption he was planning on ambushing. By the time the night settled, Jason made a rash decision. He told himself that he was “just checking up on you.” He darted through the city on his motorcycle— already knowing where you are in that exact moment, because yes, he has been tracking you in the weeks apart. Well, what you’ve been up to exactly.

Killing the engine, he quietly got off, drawing nearer so he could get a better view. There you are— at a coffee shop, and he can feel his eyes involuntarily softening at the sight of you.

But then Jason notices the figure beside you. A detective. Must be another one of Batman’s allies. As quickly as his eyes have softened, they begin to narrow in jealousy. And Jason didn’t take jealousy well— it was a feeling with a heavy weight that burnt hot in his heart.

He could tell you weren’t even flirting or anything— you weren’t at all that kinda person. But still, the jealousy stung because he knew well that he’s just annoyed that someone else is doing something he’s been avoiding— talking to you.

Jason watched the whole time, even followed discreetly as you dropped the guy off at his place. The little comment, “Good work today.” hit him hard, while you didn’t even look phased by it. That guy’s praise versus Jason’s praise that night were worlds apart— and he wanted to be apart of all worlds.

He wanted not only to fuck you, but also find out more about you, listen to you talk, hold you close, make you laugh. His jaw clenched, and the idea felt too far-fetched for him. Like a fantasy that would never happen.

But most of all, Jason was worried that the night hadn’t meant anything to you, and you have simply moved on since then. Well, that’s what it looked like to him. He wanted to show up and remind you exactly who fucked you senseless, and then fuck you hard again just so it’s deeply ingrained in your brain.

He could feel the impulsiveness building within him again, and this time it was too hard to just ignore.

Being a light sleeper had both its pros and cons. You woke up in the middle of the night, hands coming up to rub at your eyes. You yawn and stretch, realising you’re probably not gonna be able to sleep again after this. Once you’re up, you’re up.

Yet you couldn’t quite shake the feeling of being watched. You try to dismiss it, thinking it was nothing and it’s just some sort of anxiety you develop when you become a vigilante or something. But it lingers in the back of your mind, gnawing at your head, until you finally snap your eyes open fully.

You flinch at the sight of Red Hood in front of you. Out of everybody, he was the last person you expected. You could see that he’s pulled up a chair from your desk and just sat on it right in front of your bed.

“Somebody’s up.” He tilts his head to the side. “Finally, princess. I’ve been waiting too long.” He says casually, crossing his arms over his chest.

You pull the sheets up to your heaving chest. “What the hell?!” you manage, still blown out of your mind that after all this time he just decided to show up like it’s nothing. How did he even get in without you noticing? Are you less of a light sleeper than you thought?

“Relax.”

“I can’t relax when you just show up like that! Tell me what you’re doing here!” You demand for answers, watching intently as Red Hood gets up and walks on over to you slowly.

His hand comes up and roughly grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Now that’s no way to treat a guest. Especially somebody you’ve fucked.” He says the last part even slower, voice dropping low.

Your face burns as memories of the night flood through your system. Still, you’re so unbelievably pissed. He’s not even trying to explain why he’s been gone, why you’ve had to lose sleep over his absence.

Grabbing his wrist, you shove his hand away. “Tell me why you’ve been gone.”

Red Hood scoffs, taking a step back. “Really? Quit the act. I know you don’t care, maybe even happy that i’ve been gone.” He’s in a mood, and he’s taking it out on you, instead of opening up like you wish he would.

Anger fills you, and you get up sharply. “How could you say that? You’re the one that doesn’t care, you’re the one that actively avoided me!” You bite back.

“And you didn’t even try to reach out—“

“I thought I was giving you some space! I care, Jason. More than you know. Even when everything was so confusing and I didn’t even know what I felt.” Your tone’s almost desperate, pleading for him to understand, to see that you do care for him.

He stares at you for long, and the silence is nerve-wracking. What if that night was casual for him? What if you read too much into it and he doesn’t feel the same?

Meanwhile, Jason knew it was bad the moment he didn’t react when you said his name. He knew this would happen, and now he’s not sure he even wants to stop it from happening.

In a blink of an eye, Jason ripped off his helmet, tossing it to the side of your room. Your eyes widen, trying to take in the sight of him all at once, as if it’s going to disappear before you could even register him properly.

His hair was dark, with streaks of white telling his story, messy as though he’d been running his own fingers through it too much. Blue eyes that carried weight to them, now looking hungry and starved for you. He had tiny little scars all over his face, and you wanted to kiss each one.

He was handsome in a raw and real way, handsome in a way that you were finally seeing the man who had somehow stolen your heart. Your lips parted, but before you could even speak, Jason reached out and cupped your face.

He pulled you in, smashing his lips against yours as if he’s been longing to do that, groaning against your mouth. You gasp into his, body moulding against his, and you can feel every hard line of his body.

Your hands slide up his neck, the two of you kissing as intensely as possible as if one of you were to disappear out of thin air. Then they roam around in his hair, tugging gently as his tongue keeps pulling moans out of your mouth.

He backs you against your bed, the backs of your thighs hitting the edges of your bed, until the both of you fall onto it. Jason climbs on top of you, lips trailing down your jaw and neck. He sucks spots onto your neck, hard and unforgiving.

“Got fucking jealous today seeing you with that detective.” Jason muttered against your skin.

“It’s not like that-!” you whine, tilting your head up to give him better access.

“I know.” He said simply, but dove back down to lick and suck all the hickeys he had left. His mouth was relentless, insistent on leaving a mark so everybody would know that you’ve been claimed thoroughly. That you’re off limits.

Jason moves back up to kiss you again, hand cradling the side of your face tightly. He pulled back and a string of saliva connected your mouths, until it snapped when he moved down your body.

Your hands fist in the hem of his long sleeved shirt, glancing at the Red Hood crest on the front of it one last time before pulling it over his head. Your eyes traced his broad and bare chest, admiring all the little scares scattered across it, and his built body.

Jason uses one hand to wrap your legs around his waist, and you immediately let out a sound when you feel his thick bulge against you, feeling him hot and throbbing even through the fabric. “Got me so hard, princess. That’s what you do to me.”

You grind down hard onto him, desperate for some friction to soothe the ache between your thighs.

“Bet you’ve never been fucked the way I fuck you, huh? Only I do it this good, right?” Jason smirks against your chest, then pulls back and rips apart your flimsy sleep shirt. “Say it.”

“Only you—“ You manage to get out, helping him unclasp your bra. As soon as it’s off, he’s latching his mouth onto you, a hand coming up to pay attention to the other side.

Your nails drag down his back as he rolls your nipple, tongue swirling around the other one then sucking until it got hard. He hasn’t even stopped grinding his clothed erection against you, and every sensitive part of you getting touched and paid attention to is overwhelming your senses in the most euphoric way possible.

He hisses as your nails continue to scratch, but he likes it too. He likes that the both of you are leaving marks for the other to carry. “Don’t stop.”

You nod, eyes meeting his. The eye contact feels weirdly intimate, but this time Jason’s not hiding— he’s too deep in it.

“Eyes on me when I put it in, okay?” His hands reverently pull your shorts down along with your soaked panties, tossing them carelessly to the side. You help in unbuckling his belt, and he just watches you, as if he can’t believe that you’re still here, letting him do all this.

Then Jason unzips his tactical pants, pulling his boxers down just enough to free his cock. He groans as it springs free, no longer restrained by anything.

“And nobody’s gonna fill you as much as I do, not even that detective.” Jason whispers against your ear, and you can’t help but crack a smile.

“Shut up about that detective already. I want you. And I want you in me.” You urge him, hips lifting pleadingly.

He grabs it, stroking it once, and you watch as precum leaks from the head, making you bite your lip.

Jason suddenly pulls back and flips you onto your stomach, hands grabbing you by the hips. The sudden change of position has surprised you, and you don’t even have time to recover before you feel it prodding against your entrance, teasing just once before swiftly sinking in.

The both of you groan as your tightness envelops him, warmly welcoming him. Jason’s right hand reaches around, cupping your throat just enough. His hips already begin to move, slowly at first, pulling out ever so slightly before teasing in again.

Then his pace begins to pick up, and soon he’s slamming into you over and over again. Pulling all the way out, then bottoming it out and pressing against that spongy spot deep within you.

You can’t help but let out a staccato of moans as he just keeps going faster and faster, moaning on every thrust. “Fuck. That’s it. Take it.”

Your hips push back against him, trying to take more as if you weren’t already connected enough. His other hand on your hip reaches down and rubs your clit roughly, causing you to cry out.

“Good girl. Always taking me so well.” He praises, leaning down so his chest was pressing against your bare back. Jason kisses your jaw, grip tightening on your neck ever so slightly, but not enough to really hurt.

Jason lets out an involuntary moan when he feels you clenching around him, and it just brings at him to go even faster. “Ah—fuck..!” He’s really slipping, you just feel too good and he’s just glad that he has you again in his arms.

Your walls continue to flutter around him, bringing him closer to the edge. Just like that, you let yourself go without warning, a loud and long moan escaping your mouth.

Jason’s thrusting harder despite the fact you’ve just came around his cock, building himself up to his own release. He doesn’t stop hitting that spot deep in you, giving you absolutely zero time to recover.

“Jason!” You scream, eyes shut from the overwhelming amount of pleasure you felt in that moment.

Hearing you scream his name was the final trigger, and with that, he buried himself deep and filled you up— every hot spurt after spurt, some even leaking out of you and around his half-hard length.

Jason’s forehead dropped to your shoulder, panting against you. He pulled out slowly, then gently flipped you onto your back. He took one look at your puffy and leaking pussy, then leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to your temple.

“You okay?” He asks, brushing your hair behind your ear. You nod, thighs still slightly shaking with the aftershocks. “I’ll get you a towel, clean you up, and run you a bath. Sounds good?”

“Thank you, Jason…” You mumble, eyes closing gently, and you take a minute to breathe after just getting fucked out.

Jason enters your bathroom, and he sees his reflection in the big mirror as the lights flicker on. He couldn’t believe he did it. He let you see his face, let you kiss his face, let you run your hands through his hair. A face that he couldn’t even bear to look at himself earlier.

The feeling of finally being exposed to you felt foreign, but in a way that made Jason realise that maybe foreign isn’t as bad. And there was no going back now.

author’s note: sorry if that took a while but here it is! i really loved making the second part, and ugh omg i just love jason so much! also thinking of making a taglist for every time i post, comment below if you want to be apart of it!

featuring: wally west, tim drake, dick grayson, jason todd content: smau, established relationship, fem!reader, talks of pregnancy (non-serious), potentially sexual themes ??? this is just crack don't mind me

— wally west

Chapter 2!! Read chapter 1 here

Jason was looking into probably the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen on a person. Big lashes. Pretty irises and blown pupils. He didn’t know what he was thinking, calling her “doll”, especially after the situation he found her in. He also didn’t know what he was thinking when he let her stab him with a kitchen knife.

………………………………..………………………………..

3 months earlier.

It had been a year since Jason returned to Gotham. His body ached from bruises and cuts, he was constantly tired, and currently he was bleeding out in the alleyway outside his apartment, sat against the brick wall. Everything hurt. So much that he had given up on the fire escape. He’d lost his helmet in his fight with the joker, and had peeled off the domino mask somewhere along the way home. He could call someone. He should call someone. It’s not like all his relationships had gone to hell.

A few more minutes passed. Jason was going in and out of consciousness; he was too tired to stay awake and the pinching throb of a new cut on his chest hurt too much for him to fall asleep. His eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to force away the tears prickling out. He didn’t want to die again. The cut wasn’t lethal, he wasn’t going to die again. But all he could think about was the warehouse, and a crowbar, and another scar to carry from his murderer.

A door creaked open, and the outdoor light turned on. An old woman stepped out, and Jason squinted to see which lady from his apartment it was. The sweet pink skirt and the leather biker jacket told him it was Beth. She had a peppy personality, and was always ready for a chat. He helped her with her groceries sometimes, and usually managed to escape before she trapped him in her apartment for the next 5 hours. She always seemed to get his mood, even when Jason thought he could play stoic well enough. Now, she was taking out the trash. Jason prayed she wouldn’t spot him, but his hiding spot wasn’t very inconspicuous, his long legs poking out from beside the bins.

“Jason dear? Is that you?” she said sweetly, turning her body to see him.

“Oh you poor thing,” and the pitiful expression on her face was the last he remembered before things got fuzzy.

………………………………..………………………………..

Sun was peaking through the pink curtains, casting a warm glow on the room Jason was in. He was sore. And a little itchy. And the sheets smelled like rose perfume, which definitely was not the smell of Jason’s apartment. Alarm bells were going off in his head, and he quickly scrambled out of bed. His shirt, where was his shirt? And gear, and guns? And who patched his chest up? He quickly surveyed the room. A frilly pink bed sat in the center, surrounded by vintage lamps, a twilight poster, and a bunch of model trains? No sign of his gear. No blood, no knife under his pillow. Just warm pink.

“Where..” he muttered, before the door opened making Jason spin around—and still strung up from the night before—he shrieked at a pitch he didn’t even know he was capable of. Sweet old Beth stood by the doorway grinning as she held a tray of coffee and pancakes. Outside, he could hear laughter, a teapot boiling, and the sounds of the radio playing. She must’ve saved him last night. Brought him upstairs, patched him up.

“Are you alright dear? Took quite a beating last night!” Beth explained, putting the tray down on the nightstand.

“Lucky you, me and the girls managed to get you upstairs. You’re just in time for book club.”

Right. The Book Club Beth and the other ladies of the apartment had been pestering him to join since he mentioned he enjoyed reading. He’d never been. But he supposed he had to now. He followed Beth out of the room, still in shock, and was greeted by the four other women sitting around the circular table: Janice, Angie, Elma, and Paige.

“Hi,” he mumbled, awkwardly covering his chest. The ladies looked at him silently before erupting in chatter.

Angie was the first to speak, scolding him on his injuries. Elma passed him a shirt to put on, and Jason quickly thanked her and obliged. Paige was giving him a silly grin, and Janice was patting the seat next to her and handing him a book. Pride and Prejudice. He’d read it of course. Embarrassingly, he had imagined himself being somebody’s Mr. Darcy.

“Thank you all for helping me, though I don’t remember much,” Jason said softly. “And thank you for letting me stay the night, Beth.”He was sure his face was red by now. All of the women were watching him expectantly. “But, um. I should really be getting home by now.”

“But we just started dear! Come on, stay for tea,” Paige argued. And of course the others joined in, telling him they didn’t see him enough, and they were always so thankful whenever he fixed their appliances or helped them with groceries. So, book club it was. Tea, baked goods, and classic literature? A happier Jason would’ve signed up earlier. The group discussed Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy, and the annoyances of their own husbands and the gossip around the neighbourhood. They didn’t ask Jason once about his scars, or the state they found him in last night. It was reassuring. Though, he wasn’t sure now if they believed he worked in “private security” anymore.

So. He became the 6th member of the book club. He’d bake something new every Monday night, before trudging over to the 3rd floor on Tuesday mornings to spend the afternoon chatting about his favourite stories which 5 ladies thrice his age. Angie was loud and boisterous. Elma was the shyest of the bunch. Paige was just…kinda weird. Janice was an amazing cook. And Beth seemed to always know what everyone else was thinking. Austen, Woolf, Kafka, Hemingway, Shelley, they read it all. This particular Friday, his side was aching from the pretty civilian who had stabbed him the night before. At least he’d baked his apple crumble before patrol.

………………………………..………………………………..

You got home late for dinner. Brandy had cleaned herself off in the rain. Your feet hurt from running, and your favourite heels were now trash. The kitchen light was on, and you could hear the TV playing in the living room. Grandma Beth was snoring away on the couch. The rush to get into a hot shower and out of your wet clothes helped distract you from the fact that you had stabbed someone. He freaked you out, even though he’d been your saviour. At least he didn’t react badly to being stabbed. He mostly just…stood there, dumbfounded, and let you pull the knife out and run off. You assumed the guy knew that you aren’t supposed to pull the knife out when you get stabbed.

The mirror in the bathroom revealed just how deranged you looked. Hair wet and tangled, clothes a little bloody, mascara running, you quickly turned the water on hot before stripping and jumping in. After burning your skin for a while, you got out, brushed your teeth, got dressed, and went back to the living room to lead your grandmother back to bed.

The next morning, you woke up earlier, not wanting to make another bad impression on Tony. You opted for a comfy pair of leather boots, and a rain jacket this time. Outside, you could hear the general chatter of your Grandma’s book club. She’d told you about it before, over the phone. And you’d met all the ladies, who were always happy to smother you with wet kisses and hugs on the rare occasions that they saw you.

Leaving your bedroom, you rushed to the kitchen, hoping to eat quickly and leave before the ladies trapped you at the table. The women cooed your name, commenting on how old and pretty you’d become, complaining about how you hadn’t visited in years, how your hair looked so different…

You were half paying attention, taking a seat and serving yourself some of the baked goods on the table. Brownies, plum cake, and your favourite: Apple crumble.

“Dear, introduce yourself to Jason! He made the crumble!” your Nana announced.

Jason?? Who the fuck was Jason?? You looked up, locking eyes with a massive, hunched over guy, whose face was currently turning pinker than the tablecloth the food was resting on. His eyes were wide, like he was shocked at seeing you, before he quickly schooled his expression. Almost. His ears were still bright red.

“Um, hi Jason?” you introduced yourself.

Jason wanted to genuinely go crawl back into his grave as he looked at your expression. You, pretty eyes girl, you, who’d stabbed him in the stomach after he saved you, you, who’s eyebrows were scrunched together while you looked at him, probably weirded out by a man of his appearance sharing tea and biscuits with your beloved grandmother and friends. Fuck, his stab wound pulsed around the stitches as he looked at you.

“Hello.” is what he replied, before quickly looking down at the tablecloth. Hello. Hello. No introduction. Dumbass, you’re supposed to say something to follow hello!

Angie rubbed his back, which made him burn even more.

“So Jason, what brought you to book club?” you asked, and Jason looked back up.

“I like books,” was all he could manage. The table sat in silence, before the ladies seemed to get a wicked idea.

“Jason’s single too you know. Perfect catch, he’s a true gentlemen!” Paige announces. You nodded slowly. Jason couldn’t look up. It was official. He was going to willingly ask the joker to kill him again.

“He cooks, cleans, brings the groceries up for us! He can fix a fridge dear, a fridge!” Janice added.

And of course, Beth went in for the kill.

“Isn’t he handsome too, dear?”

Jason coughed, and you chuckled. Sure, he wasn’t bad looking. Muscles, biceps the size of your head, fluffy dyed hair, and stunning green-blue eyes. But he had scars all over his hands. His grey shirt covered his arms and most of his collarbone, but you could see that the scars crept up under the shirt too. There were several more prominent ones on his face as well. You didn’t quite understand what the hell he was doing here.

“Well, um. Your apple crisp is really good.” you said. He could hear the pity in your tone.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, keeping his gaze at the table until you walked back to your room, and he was free to hide his face in his hands. You left a minute later, saying bye and giving Beth a kiss on the cheek. He watched you walk to the door. He envied your confidence, and liked the combination of your leather boots and your yellow rain jacket. Maybe if he were wearing the helmet, he’d scold you for wearing such bright colours. They’d just put another target on your back. Fuck, you were pretty. The door shut, and he shuddered. If only he had the slightest bit of charisma, or was able to hold a conversation without wanting to jump off a cliff. It was easier to face her when she was in the middle of stabbing him.

“I can never come back here again.” Jason mumbled, and the women around him chuckled.

“We’re just looking out for you dear!” Angie explained. “You should be seeing more people your age anyways.”

“I see plenty people my age! Without you guys trying to embarrass me as much as possible!” Jason stuttered, still blushing. They were laughing at him know. “I can handle my relationships fine! I don’t need meddling! I don’t even know her?!” he squeaked.

“She is a sweet girl, dear,” Elma said. And that was luckily the end of the conversation.

Thank you for reading!! I’m sorry it’s shit!

Chapter 3 here!

Taglist: @animeboysimp-0527

Comment to join taglist!!

i imagine jason confronting his ex lover before he died and when he came back she was really shocked and stuff and he hits the “do you think i have forgotten, about you?” AND THEN THEY HIT THE ANGRY LOVE CONFESSUON FROM THE NOTEBOOK

“it still isn’t over!”

listened to portishead while writing this. Idk what im doing

"Mmph," Jason whimpered into your neck as you grinded down on his clothed cock through your panties and his pants, his hands gripping your hips as he tried desperately not to buck up into you.

He was still in his armour, and you'd just been grinding down on his thigh a moment ago, the rough cloth of his pants scratching against your clit over your underwear deliciously. In the middle of that, and you kissing, he'd tugged you fully on his lap, your cunt and his cock only separated by clothes at that point.

You rolled your hips slowly, your fingers scratching against his scalp as he moaned into your neck, the big bulge of his cock pressed hard against you. "Fuck," he groaned, holding your hips tighter and moving you against him while slowly bucking up into you, seeking more friction.

You moaned softly, kissing along his scarred jaw as he moaned again, louder this time as he bucked particularly hard against your pussy. "Shhh, I've got you," you murmured agsinst, pressing your fingers into the bottom of his skull.

He moaned again, squirming beneath you. "Fuck-please. You feel so good. So good."

You hummed against him, grinding down hard now and making him whine. "Yeah?"

"Mhm, yeah," he whimpered, his eyes stinging with tears of pleasure. "So good, ma."

"Yeah. You gonna be good for me?"

"Mphm-Yes."

"You promise?"

"Yes-! Fuck, yes-" a tear slides down his cheek and onto your collar bone as he moans desperately into you. His hips buck as a faster pace, his breathing fast and his moans breathless.

"Good boy," you murmur, licking a tear up, and he cums immediately. Whining and whimpering as he trembles, thrusting against you rapidly.

He sniffles after, tucking his face into your neck, as if to hide. "Sorry," he mumbles.

"It's okay, baby," you kiss his scarred cheek, pulling back to see his face, smoothing a tear away from beneath his eye with your thumb. "You want me to clean you up?"

He hesitates before nodding, and you smile before getting on your knees and reaching for the buckle of his pants.

Stop Waiting For Roommates 😴

Warning: None! Fluff. No established relationship. No use of (y/n)

Note: They're sooo cute (annoying) when you get past all the old replacement and dead jokes.

!!------------------------------------!!

Jason and Tim have never had the best relationship, but earnestly, did any of the brothers? Still, in recent years, the two of them could be considered closer than ever. Truly recognizing one another as siblings. Someone you could rely on. Someone you could trust. And if Jason were Dickie he'd even believe Tim when he'd drop by unannounced simply to 'hang out'.

He isn't, though. The little shit totally has the hots for you.

Look, Jason will always feel like the perpetually younger brother who has a right to be annoying and pestering, but he can't lie that it isn't endearing to watch the poor kid trip over himself to gain both your attention and approval. Maybe he really should start living up to his big brother role more.

Nah.

Honestly, Jason hadn't planned on doing anything about it other than teasing Tim here and there, but after a particularly grueling patrol, the damn twerp had eaten his food the second his back was turned. The food that he bought with his own hard-earned cash! Not...that he had a paying job, but still. Money is money, laundered, stolen, or not.

So big brother Jason, with you in tow, devised something truly devious and totally petty. He was gonna fake date you, of course. What other form of subtle leverage would Jason have over Tim? (A lot, but this is easier, and frankly more fun).

The next time you find Tim crawling through your shared apartment's windows, you'd casually call: babe! Your brother is here. You didn't need to face Tim to see the absolute dead freeze he performed. It was hard not to break character right then and there.

Babe? Babe. Babe. The nickname echoed throughout Tim's mind as he took his usual place across from you on the couch. When did that happen? Were you always the type to refer to someone like that so casually? Because Jason certainly wasn't the type to casually receive it.

"Yeah, nice to see you too, babe." Tim mocks some when Jason peeks in. The younger Robin glares some at his elder, but it's paid little mind when the big Robin begins to pull ingredients out to prepare dinner with.

Throughout Tim's visit, he watches the two of you like a hawk. Every brush, every conversational exchange. He didn't want to straight-up ask because, deep down, Tim really didn't want to know the answer. He supposed it's only natural that you'd fall for your own roommate faster than you would said roomates brother that drops in every once in a blue moon, but still!

Damn, second place again then. That's...fine. He's happy for Jason, even if Tim thinks you could totally do a hundred percent better than the brute (like himself, for instance).

On Tim's way out, he doesn't side hug you like usual, and even opts to use the front door like a normal person. A visible slouch in his figure as Jason comes to see him out. Before he can leave, Jason wraps an arm around the dork's shoulder and reels him in to whisper.

"Take your shot with them already, or else I'll really get sick of waiting for you, got it?"

"what's wrong?" he asks, voice cracking slightly from hours of silence, cutting through the monotonous sound of the fan oscillating in the background.

"nothing. 'm fine." you murmur defiantly smushing your cheek further into the pillow. silencing a pained wince. you're not subtle, not to him. he's watched you squirm all night. felt the bed rock as you shifted uncomfortably from the taut pressure bubbling in your abdomen.

he places his warm palm there, right where it hurts, not hard, just firm. "you're not fine. you've been shifting all night" he hums into your neck, brushing a kiss over your pulse point. his thumb rubbing back and forth over your, now warmed, skin. it's enough to slightly dull the ache under your skin. "can't sleep cause it hurts" you finally admit, tilting your head backward to look at him.

a needy pulse forming between your thighs, despite the ache. his fingers drum against your skin, hesitating, as your thighs press together tight. desprate for some friction.

he isn't mean about it, when he gives in. doesn't say a word really. just silently reasures you with a kiss to your shoulder before you can stop him from slipping hand further down between your thighs. dipping underneath the elastic of your panties, into your heat. gliding a finger through the wet syrupy mess between them.