My name's Kandy and this is my fanfic writing blog. I’m 24 and I started writing fanfic in November of 2024 with the first chapter of my Jason Todd x Reader series Do I Know you? (DIKY) The first 20 or so chapters and a few one shots that I wrote early on were posted on my side blog that I originally used for reblogging fanfics. Since then I’ve created this blog around April of 2025 as designated place for for my fanfic writing. It has been a phenomenal journey to write and to interact with the beautiful people of the world wide web.
I hope you enjoy your visit here! And if you have anything on your mind, let me know. It can be about my fics or about life. I’m a nosey body when I want to be and I love hearing what people think.
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Hiii if you’re still taking Steve requests I’d love to see your take on reader maybe trying to skateboard with max in the family video parking lot and getting injured and Steve rushing out to help. Thank you! ❤️
Sorry I took so long on this, and thank you for requesting it! Enjoy!
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“Hello, I need to rent the best movie of all time and a hot date to go with it.” You announce as you pull the door to the Family video. You thought the store would be empty aside from Steve, seeing as there were no other vehicles in the parking lot. Your skin grows warm in embarrassment at your own words when you find Max sitting on the floor in front of the counter. You greet the girl, “Max! I didn’t know you would be here.”
She grins at you, freckled cheeks dimpling, “Oh, I can tell.”
You shake your head at her antics, already hearing the rest of the kids teasing, “What’s up, buttercup?”
“I need a ride,” she answer as stands and stretches, her skateboard leaning against the counter where she was sitting, “Steve didn’t have his car though.”
“Right,” you nod. He had let you borrow it while yours was being worked on, “sorry about that.”
“It’s fine,” she shrugs, “its not a rush thing. He said you’d pick him up, so i could wait til then. But aren’t you early?”
You copy her shrug, “Yeah, I’d figured I’d give him some company for the last thirty minutes or so.”
“Were you planning on making out in the back room?”
“Max!” you scold her boldness (even if she’s right). She holds her hands up defensively with a smirk that tells you she knows she’s right.
You both jump when Steve makes an appearance from said backrooms, “Max, you were supposed to tell me when there was a customer.”
She rolls her eyes, “She’s not a customer.”
“Oh,” Steve finally looks at you from his glare at the back max’s head, “hi, baby, you’re early.”
You fluster after Max’s comment about you being early, “I had the time.”
You move around Max to meet him at the counter. You slip under his arms into an easy hug. His hand strokes up and down your spine as he kisses your crown and mutters a quiet missed you. Then, not parting from the hug, his attention is on Max, “What’d you do to her?”
She scoffs behind you, “Nothing!”
“She really hasn’t,” you laugh against his shoulder at the sound of his clicked tongue of disbelief, “We were just talking.”
“Yeah, about how she shows up early so you can get it on in the back room.”
“Max!” you both shout, Steve’s tan skin turning red.
“Jesus, I’m just calling it as it is,” she rounds you both to pick up her skateboard at the counter, “You can still do that. I’ll go skate. Outside. Away from any noises.”
You press a hand to your face as you listen to the door ding as she goes out.
Steve gives your shoulder a squeeze, “That girl knows way too much.”
“As if you were a saint at that age, King Steve,” you chide.
“Hey, she has two years before that, and even that was too young if you ask me,” His hand slides down your shoulder to your hand, squeezing it, “but since she is outside…”
You step back from him entirely with an affronted look, “You are such a boy! We’re not doing that after she just accused us. Max Mayfield can not be right about our make-out habits.”
“... but she is?” he lifts a brow at you.
“Yeah, but she can’t know that,” you huff, turning towards the windows to watch her skate back and forth in the minuscule parking lot of Family Video, “I’ll go hang out with her. I’m sure she’s been bored to death waiting.”
Steve glances at the window, then back to you, then to the back room door, “Is this punishment? Honey, I’m sorry… for whatever.”
“Stevie. My sweet boy.” You laugh as you step back towards him to give him a peck, “You didn’t do anything, we’re just not going to make out til we get home.”
He hisses through his teeth in disappointment, “Fine, go hang out with Max and leave me to my boredom.”
“You mean your job?” you tease as you part from him and step towards the door, “The thing you get paid to do?”
“I’d rather get paid to kiss you,” he answers as your hand settles on the door.
You blow him a kiss in compensation, “Tell us when you're ready to go.”
You catch the end of a grumble from him before you’re stepping back out into the warm air. Max swerves her way towards you, stopping just before the curb and kicking her skateboard up.
“That was fast,” she comments, clearly biting back a laugh.
You shake your head with a grin, “Okay, Maxy, laugh it up. We were not making out. That’s why I’m out here, to hang out with you.”
“Hang out with me?” she points a finger at herself, “but I’m just skating.”
You nod, “It's nice out. I can watch.”
You step down from the curb and then move to sit on it. Max stops you, “Wait.”
“Hmm? What is it?” you ask.
She holds her skateboard up, “You wanna try?”
You hesitate as you glance at the board. You weren’t great at balancing on a bike. “I don't know…”
Ten minutes later, after a lot more convincing than you thought the girl had in her, Max was holding your hands as you stood on her skateboard, pulling you back and forth as you wobbled.
“Lean left, no, your other left,” she huffs as she tries to get you to turn.
You laugh at her guidance, “I only have one left.”
“Well, lean that way then,” she laughs with you. You manage the turn as she pulls you back to the other side of the parking lot. Slowly, she lets go of your hands, and you glide straight.
“Hey now,” you wobble, “come back.”
“You're doing great!” she cheers unhelpfully, “You can push with one foot.”
“I am not doing that.” The board slows more and more.
“It's easy, just put your foot down and push,” she encourages.
You trust Max, truly. You should not trust yourself, though. You put your foot down, and before you can blink, you’re on the ground. Your knees and palms sting; luckily, you had caught yourself before you face planted.
“Oh, shit. I said push not stop,” Max rushes over to you, “You okay?”
You roll on your back with a breathless laugh, gravel stuck to your palms as you, press them to your chest. Your eyes watering does not match the words that leave your mouth, “I’m fine.”
The bell of Family Video dings and squeeze your eyes shut, taking a moment to practice your next words. Steve, I’m fine. Really! It was just a slip. Nothing truly hurts.
Your knee jerks up at the newfound sting on your knee, something wet followed a burn that you swear you feel in your toes. Your eyes open as you sit up. Tears prickle at the corner of your eyes as you stare at steve pouring some hydrogen peroxide straight on your bleeding knees. You glance around, finding Max missing.
“Steve, that hurts,” you whimper. He looks back up you with a concerned pinched brow that’s unfairly attractive. His hand gently cups the underside of your knee, keeping it bent. Your leg jerks again as pours some more peroxide, wetting his hands, and letting it bubble.
“Are you okay, baby?” He ask gently, likes hes worried he’ll scare you off. His thumb rubs at the underside of your thigh and you try to remember what you’d rehearsed in your mind. You blank because its Steve asking and he looks so worried. Your eye water more despite knowing your truly not hurt other than a few scraps.
“Don’t ask that, Stevie,” you murmur, looking up at the sky and trying to blink away the unnecessary tears.
“Harrington!” Max reappears to scold, “Put down the disinfectant. I told you to wait.”
Your head tips back to look at a Max with a couple of mugs of water. She pours one over your knee and the stinging disperses. You let out a relieved sigh. Steve’s hand, still damp, leaves your knee to hold your elbow. Your eyes find his and he murmurs an apology to you.
“I don’t know how you survive anything, Steve. You don’t listen,” Max complains as she cleans your knees. You can’t help but laugh at the commentary. Steve gives you a disgruntled smile while Max properly cleans your meger wounds.
“I really am fine,” you reassure, tempted tears now pushed away, “It was just a slip.”
“My poor girl,” he murmurs and for a moment you forget Max is there, steve’s hand rubbing fond up your arm.
A hiss leaves you as Max dabs disinfectant on your knees, faking a gag, “You two are gross.”
You laugh despite the sting, “Like you and Lucas are any better.”
Her cheeks turn bright red as she grumbles to herself. She hands Steve a couple of bandages, “all you.”
She makes a quick escape back inside. You and Steve grin at each other before hes wrapping up your knees and helping you up.
“Get the car started,” He helps you limp that way, “I’m closing early.”
“What about Keith?” you reprimand, knowing Keith already didn’t like him.”
He shrugs, “I’ll tell him there was an emergency. Now get the car started so I can kiss you better.”
You laugh, possibly too loud, “You manipulator!”
“Guilty as charge,” He grins as you slide into the front seat. He shifts back towards the store, “I’ll close up and get max. We are leaving.”
“Okay, okay,” you giggle as you pull the keys from your pocket.
Hiii if you’re still taking Steve requests I’d love to see your take on reader maybe trying to skateboard with max in the family video parking lot and getting injured and Steve rushing out to help. Thank you! ❤️
Sorry I took so long on this, and thank you for requesting it! Enjoy!
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“Hello, I need to rent the best movie of all time and a hot date to go with it.” You announce as you pull the door to the Family video. You thought the store would be empty aside from Steve, seeing as there were no other vehicles in the parking lot. Your skin grows warm in embarrassment at your own words when you find Max sitting on the floor in front of the counter. You greet the girl, “Max! I didn’t know you would be here.”
She grins at you, freckled cheeks dimpling, “Oh, I can tell.”
You shake your head at her antics, already hearing the rest of the kids teasing, “What’s up, buttercup?”
“I need a ride,” she answer as stands and stretches, her skateboard leaning against the counter where she was sitting, “Steve didn’t have his car though.”
“Right,” you nod. He had let you borrow it while yours was being worked on, “sorry about that.”
“It’s fine,” she shrugs, “its not a rush thing. He said you’d pick him up, so i could wait til then. But aren’t you early?”
You copy her shrug, “Yeah, I’d figured I’d give him some company for the last thirty minutes or so.”
“Were you planning on making out in the back room?”
“Max!” you scold her boldness (even if she’s right). She holds her hands up defensively with a smirk that tells you she knows she’s right.
You both jump when Steve makes an appearance from said backrooms, “Max, you were supposed to tell me when there was a customer.”
She rolls her eyes, “She’s not a customer.”
“Oh,” Steve finally looks at you from his glare at the back max’s head, “hi, baby, you’re early.”
You fluster after Max’s comment about you being early, “I had the time.”
You move around Max to meet him at the counter. You slip under his arms into an easy hug. His hand strokes up and down your spine as he kisses your crown and mutters a quiet missed you. Then, not parting from the hug, his attention is on Max, “What’d you do to her?”
She scoffs behind you, “Nothing!”
“She really hasn’t,” you laugh against his shoulder at the sound of his clicked tongue of disbelief, “We were just talking.”
“Yeah, about how she shows up early so you can get it on in the back room.”
“Max!” you both shout, Steve’s tan skin turning red.
“Jesus, I’m just calling it as it is,” she rounds you both to pick up her skateboard at the counter, “You can still do that. I’ll go skate. Outside. Away from any noises.”
You press a hand to your face as you listen to the door ding as she goes out.
Steve gives your shoulder a squeeze, “That girl knows way too much.”
“As if you were a saint at that age, King Steve,” you chide.
“Hey, she has two years before that, and even that was too young if you ask me,” His hand slides down your shoulder to your hand, squeezing it, “but since she is outside…”
You step back from him entirely with an affronted look, “You are such a boy! We’re not doing that after she just accused us. Max Mayfield can not be right about our make-out habits.”
“... but she is?” he lifts a brow at you.
“Yeah, but she can’t know that,” you huff, turning towards the windows to watch her skate back and forth in the minuscule parking lot of Family Video, “I’ll go hang out with her. I’m sure she’s been bored to death waiting.”
Steve glances at the window, then back to you, then to the back room door, “Is this punishment? Honey, I’m sorry… for whatever.”
“Stevie. My sweet boy.” You laugh as you step back towards him to give him a peck, “You didn’t do anything, we’re just not going to make out til we get home.”
He hisses through his teeth in disappointment, “Fine, go hang out with Max and leave me to my boredom.”
“You mean your job?” you tease as you part from him and step towards the door, “The thing you get paid to do?”
“I’d rather get paid to kiss you,” he answers as your hand settles on the door.
You blow him a kiss in compensation, “Tell us when you're ready to go.”
You catch the end of a grumble from him before you’re stepping back out into the warm air. Max swerves her way towards you, stopping just before the curb and kicking her skateboard up.
“That was fast,” she comments, clearly biting back a laugh.
You shake your head with a grin, “Okay, Maxy, laugh it up. We were not making out. That’s why I’m out here, to hang out with you.”
“Hang out with me?” she points a finger at herself, “but I’m just skating.”
You nod, “It's nice out. I can watch.”
You step down from the curb and then move to sit on it. Max stops you, “Wait.”
“Hmm? What is it?” you ask.
She holds her skateboard up, “You wanna try?”
You hesitate as you glance at the board. You weren’t great at balancing on a bike. “I don't know…”
Ten minutes later, after a lot more convincing than you thought the girl had in her, Max was holding your hands as you stood on her skateboard, pulling you back and forth as you wobbled.
“Lean left, no, your other left,” she huffs as she tries to get you to turn.
You laugh at her guidance, “I only have one left.”
“Well, lean that way then,” she laughs with you. You manage the turn as she pulls you back to the other side of the parking lot. Slowly, she lets go of your hands, and you glide straight.
“Hey now,” you wobble, “come back.”
“You're doing great!” she cheers unhelpfully, “You can push with one foot.”
“I am not doing that.” The board slows more and more.
“It's easy, just put your foot down and push,” she encourages.
You trust Max, truly. You should not trust yourself, though. You put your foot down, and before you can blink, you’re on the ground. Your knees and palms sting; luckily, you had caught yourself before you face planted.
“Oh, shit. I said push not stop,” Max rushes over to you, “You okay?”
You roll on your back with a breathless laugh, gravel stuck to your palms as you, press them to your chest. Your eyes watering does not match the words that leave your mouth, “I’m fine.”
The bell of Family Video dings and squeeze your eyes shut, taking a moment to practice your next words. Steve, I’m fine. Really! It was just a slip. Nothing truly hurts.
Your knee jerks up at the newfound sting on your knee, something wet followed a burn that you swear you feel in your toes. Your eyes open as you sit up. Tears prickle at the corner of your eyes as you stare at steve pouring some hydrogen peroxide straight on your bleeding knees. You glance around, finding Max missing.
“Steve, that hurts,” you whimper. He looks back up you with a concerned pinched brow that’s unfairly attractive. His hand gently cups the underside of your knee, keeping it bent. Your leg jerks again as pours some more peroxide, wetting his hands, and letting it bubble.
“Are you okay, baby?” He ask gently, likes hes worried he’ll scare you off. His thumb rubs at the underside of your thigh and you try to remember what you’d rehearsed in your mind. You blank because its Steve asking and he looks so worried. Your eye water more despite knowing your truly not hurt other than a few scraps.
“Don’t ask that, Stevie,” you murmur, looking up at the sky and trying to blink away the unnecessary tears.
“Harrington!” Max reappears to scold, “Put down the disinfectant. I told you to wait.”
Your head tips back to look at a Max with a couple of mugs of water. She pours one over your knee and the stinging disperses. You let out a relieved sigh. Steve’s hand, still damp, leaves your knee to hold your elbow. Your eyes find his and he murmurs an apology to you.
“I don’t know how you survive anything, Steve. You don’t listen,” Max complains as she cleans your knees. You can’t help but laugh at the commentary. Steve gives you a disgruntled smile while Max properly cleans your meger wounds.
“I really am fine,” you reassure, tempted tears now pushed away, “It was just a slip.”
“My poor girl,” he murmurs and for a moment you forget Max is there, steve’s hand rubbing fond up your arm.
A hiss leaves you as Max dabs disinfectant on your knees, faking a gag, “You two are gross.”
You laugh despite the sting, “Like you and Lucas are any better.”
Her cheeks turn bright red as she grumbles to herself. She hands Steve a couple of bandages, “all you.”
She makes a quick escape back inside. You and Steve grin at each other before hes wrapping up your knees and helping you up.
“Get the car started,” He helps you limp that way, “I’m closing early.”
“What about Keith?” you reprimand, knowing Keith already didn’t like him.”
He shrugs, “I’ll tell him there was an emergency. Now get the car started so I can kiss you better.”
You laugh, possibly too loud, “You manipulator!”
“Guilty as charge,” He grins as you slide into the front seat. He shifts back towards the store, “I’ll close up and get max. We are leaving.”
“Okay, okay,” you giggle as you pull the keys from your pocket.
You ever feel just... undervalued and overvalued at your job? Like people trust you to do things and then not and then also they do. And then something awful happens (like it raining in your office during thunderstorm, buckets and tarps everwhere, sandbags to keep the water in one spot. And! It's not even the first time its happened) and you're just like "oh, yeah no, its undervalued definitely"
I am just so annoyed with my job and bored and blah and good at it and I just want to go in and do my job, no! Do this, do that! Give me a break! I want to do something else and go somewhere else but I've been doing this freaking job since outta high school. These are my only skill sets!!
Sorry for the rant, its just been a shitty two days and they were the only two days I actually went to work(I ditched this afternoon but boss said that was okay).
Super side note: I have doctor appointments coming this month to discuss if birth control would be smarter than an antidepressant or anti anxiety. My menstrual cycle is a fucken disaster. With any luck, considering my freak out today, I will probably start my period next week 😅
Request: so Jason and the rest are on patrol or he’s out of town or away or smth(i prefer that he’s on patrol), and Girlie(that’s how im gonna call her) is still heavily pregnant and about to burst cause it’s like days away from her due date. Anyways, she could be on a call with Jason or they could be currently staying at the manor and she’s sitting at the batcomputer monitoring patrol cause she’s bored, when she gradually starts feeling labor pains. She only fees a discomfort at first so she doesn’t panic yet, but then they get REALLY bad. Jason notices something through the call/coms that she’s kinda acting weird until she says that she thinks she’s gone into labor. Chaos ensues(you can decide what goes on from there)😁😁😁
I've been working on this off and on for a while, and I tried to do as much research on labor as possible. It's literally insane what the female body can do. I have gotten a few requests about the rest of the family meeting Cathy, but I've been waiting to start those because of this one. Hopefully, now I can lock in those. Enjoy!
Girl Dad!Jason Todd Masterlist
Warnings: Pregnancy, Labor and birth, JAson almost misses the birth
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“If you truly insist on staying, when you should be resting, allow me to fetch a spot of soup for you.” Alfred insists where he stands beside you at the batcomputer. He let you have the big chair the moment you’d entered the cave, and you were not complaining. Everything ached.
You smile up at the older man. You understood why he worried. Your due date was next week, and you had already had a momentary complication; babygirl almost came too early. Jason had been taken. Kidnapped? Murdered? Nobody knew at the time, and you freaked. Evidently, it freaked the baby out, too. You going into premature labour was really not something that needed to happen at that point. In the end, the hospital managed to calm everything down, and Jason was returned with only minor injuries. But you couldn’t help the worry when he went out; you couldn’t do this alone. Not after all the work Jason and you had done.
“Thank you, Alfred. That sounds nice, and for the record, I am resting. Very clearly not on my feet.”
Alfred sighs, “Miss, that is most certainly not what bedrest means.”
“I just want to listen to him. Is that okay? With soup?” you plead.
“Very well,” Alfred nods, “please remain unmoved from this spot until my return.”
“Yes, sir,” you give a mock salute to Alfred as he shakes his head, moving to the elevator.
The noises of the cave follows after, and you resettle in the chair, hands on your belly as you stare at the screen, a map of Gotham with different colored dots moving across it. You tap on the coms, and quiet conversations filter through the system. It must be a quiet night. You find Jason’s line clicking into it.
“Hello?” his voice comes across thick with confusion. It makes you smile.
“Hi, handsome,” you coo, exhaustion slipping into your voice even as you try to hide it.
“Hi, sweetheart,” his voice softens right up, and you want to melt. Baby shifts in your belly, and you have to adjust to the new pressure. Jason keeps talking, “You should be in bed.”
“I couldn’t sleep, you know that.” You remind him. You had barely slept a wink the past week, even with Jason by your side. Baby wouldn’t stop moving, seemingly out of spite. It was uncomfortable and miserable, and you had to pee all the time.
“I know,” he murmurs. You listen as he shifts a quiet grunt that sounds like he’s jumping roofs, then you hear him settle back down, “she’s too excited to get here.”
“She is too excited to- oh,” you wince, shifting in your seat with a deep breath.
Jason makes a noise, “Oh, what? Are you okay?”
You stand from the chair as your low belly cramps. You lean over slightly, the only position that seemed to help with the Braxton Hicks contractions. You practice the breathing methods that you and Jason had learned in one of the birthing classes.
“Sweetheart? Baby, talk to me.” Jason's voice becomes a tad more urgent when you don’t answer.
“It’s- ‘m fine, Jay,” you whimper softly as the feeling intensifies worse than you’d felt before. You count to yourself, breathing. Soon, the pain eases.
You let out a sigh of relief as it lessens, your back aching more than it had before. You shake it off, gently sliding back into the chair.
Jason’s voice comes back through the comms, so thick with worry you can practically see the pinch of his brow, “Honey?”
“Everything's okay, just a Braxton Hicks.” You keep your breathing steady as you rub your hand across your belly.
“Yeah? Are you sure?”
You laugh softly, “I think so. I promise I’m fine.”
“The doctor said that because of your episode, you could go into labour before the-” an explosion echoes through the comms, “shit! You promise you're okay?”
“I’m fine. Go.” You end the connection with him for him and follow him as his dot moves across Gotham. The family's voices chime through the computer, whose going where, what it could’ve been.
Twelve minutes later, the pain returns. You don't even stand this time, hands gripping the armrests as the pain spreads to your thighs, a strange sensation that you’d only felt with your near-too-early birth. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to breathe through the pain. Once it eases, your mind ignores the chaos on the coms to stare at the clock. Ten minutes later, the pain returns.
“Oh fucking dammit,” you curse and glare down at your belly as the contraction eases, “now is not the time. Dad's saving lives, and you and I agreed you wouldn't come until he was here too.”
You groan, leaning forward in the chair, arms pressed to the console. A beep echoes softly, one you would've recognised if you weren't in pain, as the computer hatches into the comms.
“You cannot come now,” you complain, head still down.
“Wait, is baby coming now?” Steph's voice startles you. Your eyes find the screen in the panic.
“No! No, baby is not- fuck” you curse again. The pain flares again, and your eyes find the clock. A nine-minute interval. You were definitely at the start of your labour if the birthing classes were right.
“You told me they were Braxton Hicks,” Jason's tight tone comes across the comms, followed by a gunshot.
The contraction eases again, you tone matching his, “I thought it was. You think I would lie about going into labour?”
“No, but you told me-”
“It is recommended that any outside stressor be removed during labour. Todd, I would recommend silence for a healthy birth.” Damian chimes.
“I am not in labour!” You scoff and stand up, holding the chair as you try to pace back and forth slowly.
More arguing filters across the line as you breathe. Everything is going to be fine, you tell yourself. Some women's labour lasted hours, which sounded miserable, but would allow Jason to come back to the cave and get you to a hospital. Your hopes for a hospital or even your midwife were dwindling.
You groan again, stilling in your pacing for a moment. Everything falls quiet, at least to your ears. Except for Jason's voice, muddled but present, “baby, just breathe. Like we practiced.”
Your nerves ease as you focus on the memories of Jason practicing your breathing with you before. You rely on it with him not there.
“I'm okay,” you finally say, even as fighting echoes from the coms, “I'm okay.”
“Alfred,” bruces voice comes through, and you shake your head.
“He's upstairs getting me soup.” You laugh after you finish. You should've known your labour would be a mess.
“Why would Pennyworth-”
“Is the soup for the labour?”
“I wasn't in labour when he went to get it,” you interject.
Jason's voice comes back through, “That was eight minutes. Sweetheart, you should be fine for a little bit. Why didn't you tell me?”
You laugh again, “You're counting while you're fighting?”
Even with the gnawing ache of your early labour, you can't help but feel fond of Jason.
“Someone has too,” he scoffs and mutters, “just Braxton Hicks.”
“I didn't think they were labour contractions when we were talking,” your sentence ends with another barely suppressed groan.
Tim juts, “uh, that was six minutes. Isn’t that like too fast?”
“Why are you counting too?” you huff, eyes prickling with tears. Instead of waiting for an answer, you say, for the first time since you found out who Jason was, “Jason, I need you to come home right now.”
“I know, baby…” Jason murmurs.
Your heart drops at his tone, mind aware from your contractions for a moment, “Don’t say it like that!”
He doesn’t respond to you, “Guys, a little help would be nice. I’m kind of stuck, and there’s a baby on the way.”
“Gimme fifteen minutes!” Cass adds quietly. You shake your head. Your contractions were moving too fast. If they kept getting closer, Jason might not make it back.
“I can’t-” you cut yourself off. There was only so much everyone could do, but you needed Jason for this.
“I’m sending Robin and Spoiler back to the cave for support. Don’t worry, we’ll make sure Red Hood’s back in time.” Bruce says, and it takes you a moment to realise he’s talking to you.
The elevator dings before you can so much as utter a thank you. Alfred steps back into the cave with a tray holding two bowls, “I do hope that you won't mind me joining- I believe I told you to stay put, miss.”
You nearly cry out of relief, only for it to turn back into a groan. You bend slightly again, hands clenching at the back of the chair.
“That’s six minutes. Pennyworth, her labour accelerating. You must prepare the med-bay.” Damian’s voice sounds rushed with a pinch of worry.
A hand finds your back, and you suddenly become aware of how sweaty you feel. You lift your head to find Alfred’s gaze, “Hey.”
“Yes, hello. To the med bay, then,” Alfred helps you over to the med bay on shaky legs. You get halfway there when you feel your legs suddenly drenched in hot wetness.
You shake your head, in too much pain to be embarrassed, but your mind latches onto something else, “Sorry, Alfred, that’s going to be a headache to clean up.”
“What? What’s going to be a headache?” Jason’s voice comes across the coms, strained, likely fighting. Alfred lays you back on the bed.
“I think my water broke,” you answer. The laying down only slightly eases the pressure on your body, “it's okay.”
“Your water broke?!” Some gunshots echo from the coms. You sit up the sound worry knotting.
“Jason!”
Alfred pushes you back down, “Now, Miss, you must calm down. Master Todd will be alright.”
You settle back on the bed at Alfred’s insistence, another contraction hitting you. You groan with a hand on your belly. Alfred gets to work prepping for the birth, but your mind can only focus on two things. Your daughter was painfully on her way, and Jason was not by your side.
The rumble of engines echoes through the cave. Your head tips, vision blurry with unshed tears, “Jason?”
“Not quite,” Damian’s voice meets your ears, and you cry softly. Where was Jason?
“Hey, Hey, Hey,” a hand curls around yours, your eyes make out a puff of blonde.
“Steph, hi. Where’s Jason?” you ask pitifully.
She squeezes your hand, “on his way right now. He’ll be here soon. Just hang on.”
A tear tracks down your cheek as another contraction hits. They were too close.
“I will check her dilation then, Pennyworth.”
“No!” you sit up with a rush, regret it and settle back down, eyes on Damian. He raises a brow at you, “I love you, buddy, you know that, but you do not get to look, let alone stick your fingers up my vagina.”
Steph laughs next to you, and Damian looks at you, rather disgruntled. Alfred nods as he pulls on gloves, “I do have to agree with Miss, Master Damian. You are too young and perhaps too close to this. If I may, miss?”
At his question directed at you, you hesitantly agree. Damian leaves the med bay pouting as he walks to the computer. You sniffle as Alfred checks your cervix. He casts a glance at you and Steph before he calls out to Damian, “How far is Master Jason?”
“A few minutes at best, Pennyworth,” he replies. Alfred looks back at you again.
“Miss, baby will be here sooner than later. I know you and Master Jason had a birth plan?” Alfred asks.
You nod, but any thought of what your birth plan was is out the window, “I can’t remember.”
“That’s alright,” he reassures, then turns to Steph, “Miss. Brown, would you be so kind as to call Doctor Thompkins? Her guidance will be needed.”
Steph nods and slips from your tight grasp you didn't know you had. Your hand curl into the bed as you ask, “Alfred, have you ever delivered a baby?”
“I’m afraid not, miss. But we will make it through this together.” He nods, “and master Jason will make it on time.”
You shake your head, voice cracking with tears, “I can’t do this without him.”
“It will be alright,” he attempts to soothe you. Steph returns with her phone, and she offers it to Alfred. He pulls his gloves from his hands and takes the phone, “Good evening, Doctor Thompkins…”
Steph prys your hand from the bed, letting you squeeze as your contractions come and go, tears race down your cheeks. This was far more painful than your almost early birth, and you wished more and more for an epidural you knew would not come.
Another engine roars into the cave, but you're so lost in the haze of another contraction that you miss it. Steph's hand is replaced by one that’s larger, still wrapped in a leather glove. A rough kiss is pressed to your sweat-damp forehead. Your eyes flicker open and cry again at the sight of Jason, your body working on instinct, trying to hug him.
“Jason, Thank god.”
He works his glove off one hand with his teeth, then trades the one holding yours to pull off the other glove. His now freed hand moves to stroke your hair, gently pressing you back on the bed.
“I’m here, Mama. You’re doing great.” He murmurs against your hair, “How’re you feeling?”
“I feel like I’m gonna shit myself,” you slip out, not thinking much of it. Jason’s eyes widen before his turning to look around the cave.
“Alfred!” he calls out. The man returns quickly with a pinched brow. Jason nods to you, “The baby’s coming now.”
You stare at Jason in confusion, “What? How do you- oh! Ow, jesus!”
Your hand squeezes Jason’s hand, nails digging in as a burning pain spreads to your nether regions. The phone is quickly handed from Alfred back to Steph now on speaker.
Everything becomes a blur. Doctor Thompkins on the phone, Jason holding your hand and the recurring encouragement to push from anyone. It feels like hours and only seconds. Pain and tears until you hear the sharp cry of a newborn.
There’s a wiggling weight on your chest, still screaming her lungs out. Jason squeezing your hand back as you blink dazed at him as the pain subsides. Your eyes drop to stare at her, your free hand lethargically dropping on her back.
“Catherine,” you whisper, and her crying slows, “baby, hi.”
Your voice is harsher than you care for, still thick with tears. You hear Alfred talking to Jason, and soon you sleep, top is unbuttoned enough for your sticky newborn baby girl to rest on your bare chest. You can’t even bring yourself to care. Tears of pure joy leave you, mixed with elated laughter. Jason presses another kiss to your hairline, staying as close as possible.
“She’s beautiful, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “You did so good. You made it.”
His hand meets yours on her back as she yells at the world. “Catherine, huh?”
Your eyes leave her for a split second to look at him, feeling slightly dizzy from the motion. You hadn’t told him what you were planning to name her. “Is that okay?”
“Of course,” he kisses you fondly as Alfred dabs around your holds on her, cleaning her without taking her away from you. Both of your focuses return to her, to your baby. Nine months of anxiety and emotions all built up to this moment.
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Request: so Jason and the rest are on patrol or he’s out of town or away or smth(i prefer that he’s on patrol), and Girlie(that’s how im gonna call her) is still heavily pregnant and about to burst cause it’s like days away from her due date. Anyways, she could be on a call with Jason or they could be currently staying at the manor and she’s sitting at the batcomputer monitoring patrol cause she’s bored, when she gradually starts feeling labor pains. She only fees a discomfort at first so she doesn’t panic yet, but then they get REALLY bad. Jason notices something through the call/coms that she’s kinda acting weird until she says that she thinks she’s gone into labor. Chaos ensues(you can decide what goes on from there)😁😁😁
I've been working on this off and on for a while, and I tried to do as much research on labor as possible. It's literally insane what the female body can do. I have gotten a few requests about the rest of the family meeting Cathy, but I've been waiting to start those because of this one. Hopefully, now I can lock in those. Enjoy!
Girl Dad!Jason Todd Masterlist
Warnings: Pregnancy, Labor and birth, JAson almost misses the birth
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“If you truly insist on staying, when you should be resting, allow me to fetch a spot of soup for you.” Alfred insists where he stands beside you at the batcomputer. He let you have the big chair the moment you’d entered the cave, and you were not complaining. Everything ached.
You smile up at the older man. You understood why he worried. Your due date was next week, and you had already had a momentary complication; babygirl almost came too early. Jason had been taken. Kidnapped? Murdered? Nobody knew at the time, and you freaked. Evidently, it freaked the baby out, too. You going into premature labour was really not something that needed to happen at that point. In the end, the hospital managed to calm everything down, and Jason was returned with only minor injuries. But you couldn’t help the worry when he went out; you couldn’t do this alone. Not after all the work Jason and you had done.
“Thank you, Alfred. That sounds nice, and for the record, I am resting. Very clearly not on my feet.”
Alfred sighs, “Miss, that is most certainly not what bedrest means.”
“I just want to listen to him. Is that okay? With soup?” you plead.
“Very well,” Alfred nods, “please remain unmoved from this spot until my return.”
“Yes, sir,” you give a mock salute to Alfred as he shakes his head, moving to the elevator.
The noises of the cave follows after, and you resettle in the chair, hands on your belly as you stare at the screen, a map of Gotham with different colored dots moving across it. You tap on the coms, and quiet conversations filter through the system. It must be a quiet night. You find Jason’s line clicking into it.
“Hello?” his voice comes across thick with confusion. It makes you smile.
“Hi, handsome,” you coo, exhaustion slipping into your voice even as you try to hide it.
“Hi, sweetheart,” his voice softens right up, and you want to melt. Baby shifts in your belly, and you have to adjust to the new pressure. Jason keeps talking, “You should be in bed.”
“I couldn’t sleep, you know that.” You remind him. You had barely slept a wink the past week, even with Jason by your side. Baby wouldn’t stop moving, seemingly out of spite. It was uncomfortable and miserable, and you had to pee all the time.
“I know,” he murmurs. You listen as he shifts a quiet grunt that sounds like he’s jumping roofs, then you hear him settle back down, “she’s too excited to get here.”
“She is too excited to- oh,” you wince, shifting in your seat with a deep breath.
Jason makes a noise, “Oh, what? Are you okay?”
You stand from the chair as your low belly cramps. You lean over slightly, the only position that seemed to help with the Braxton Hicks contractions. You practice the breathing methods that you and Jason had learned in one of the birthing classes.
“Sweetheart? Baby, talk to me.” Jason's voice becomes a tad more urgent when you don’t answer.
“It’s- ‘m fine, Jay,” you whimper softly as the feeling intensifies worse than you’d felt before. You count to yourself, breathing. Soon, the pain eases.
You let out a sigh of relief as it lessens, your back aching more than it had before. You shake it off, gently sliding back into the chair.
Jason’s voice comes back through the comms, so thick with worry you can practically see the pinch of his brow, “Honey?”
“Everything's okay, just a Braxton Hicks.” You keep your breathing steady as you rub your hand across your belly.
“Yeah? Are you sure?”
You laugh softly, “I think so. I promise I’m fine.”
“The doctor said that because of your episode, you could go into labour before the-” an explosion echoes through the comms, “shit! You promise you're okay?”
“I’m fine. Go.” You end the connection with him for him and follow him as his dot moves across Gotham. The family's voices chime through the computer, whose going where, what it could’ve been.
Twelve minutes later, the pain returns. You don't even stand this time, hands gripping the armrests as the pain spreads to your thighs, a strange sensation that you’d only felt with your near-too-early birth. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to breathe through the pain. Once it eases, your mind ignores the chaos on the coms to stare at the clock. Ten minutes later, the pain returns.
“Oh fucking dammit,” you curse and glare down at your belly as the contraction eases, “now is not the time. Dad's saving lives, and you and I agreed you wouldn't come until he was here too.”
You groan, leaning forward in the chair, arms pressed to the console. A beep echoes softly, one you would've recognised if you weren't in pain, as the computer hatches into the comms.
“You cannot come now,” you complain, head still down.
“Wait, is baby coming now?” Steph's voice startles you. Your eyes find the screen in the panic.
“No! No, baby is not- fuck” you curse again. The pain flares again, and your eyes find the clock. A nine-minute interval. You were definitely at the start of your labour if the birthing classes were right.
“You told me they were Braxton Hicks,” Jason's tight tone comes across the comms, followed by a gunshot.
The contraction eases again, you tone matching his, “I thought it was. You think I would lie about going into labour?”
“No, but you told me-”
“It is recommended that any outside stressor be removed during labour. Todd, I would recommend silence for a healthy birth.” Damian chimes.
“I am not in labour!” You scoff and stand up, holding the chair as you try to pace back and forth slowly.
More arguing filters across the line as you breathe. Everything is going to be fine, you tell yourself. Some women's labour lasted hours, which sounded miserable, but would allow Jason to come back to the cave and get you to a hospital. Your hopes for a hospital or even your midwife were dwindling.
You groan again, stilling in your pacing for a moment. Everything falls quiet, at least to your ears. Except for Jason's voice, muddled but present, “baby, just breathe. Like we practiced.”
Your nerves ease as you focus on the memories of Jason practicing your breathing with you before. You rely on it with him not there.
“I'm okay,” you finally say, even as fighting echoes from the coms, “I'm okay.”
“Alfred,” bruces voice comes through, and you shake your head.
“He's upstairs getting me soup.” You laugh after you finish. You should've known your labour would be a mess.
“Why would Pennyworth-”
“Is the soup for the labour?”
“I wasn't in labour when he went to get it,” you interject.
Jason's voice comes back through, “That was eight minutes. Sweetheart, you should be fine for a little bit. Why didn't you tell me?”
You laugh again, “You're counting while you're fighting?”
Even with the gnawing ache of your early labour, you can't help but feel fond of Jason.
“Someone has too,” he scoffs and mutters, “just Braxton Hicks.”
“I didn't think they were labour contractions when we were talking,” your sentence ends with another barely suppressed groan.
Tim juts, “uh, that was six minutes. Isn’t that like too fast?”
“Why are you counting too?” you huff, eyes prickling with tears. Instead of waiting for an answer, you say, for the first time since you found out who Jason was, “Jason, I need you to come home right now.”
“I know, baby…” Jason murmurs.
Your heart drops at his tone, mind aware from your contractions for a moment, “Don’t say it like that!”
He doesn’t respond to you, “Guys, a little help would be nice. I’m kind of stuck, and there’s a baby on the way.”
“Gimme fifteen minutes!” Cass adds quietly. You shake your head. Your contractions were moving too fast. If they kept getting closer, Jason might not make it back.
“I can’t-” you cut yourself off. There was only so much everyone could do, but you needed Jason for this.
“I’m sending Robin and Spoiler back to the cave for support. Don’t worry, we’ll make sure Red Hood’s back in time.” Bruce says, and it takes you a moment to realise he’s talking to you.
The elevator dings before you can so much as utter a thank you. Alfred steps back into the cave with a tray holding two bowls, “I do hope that you won't mind me joining- I believe I told you to stay put, miss.”
You nearly cry out of relief, only for it to turn back into a groan. You bend slightly again, hands clenching at the back of the chair.
“That’s six minutes. Pennyworth, her labour accelerating. You must prepare the med-bay.” Damian’s voice sounds rushed with a pinch of worry.
A hand finds your back, and you suddenly become aware of how sweaty you feel. You lift your head to find Alfred’s gaze, “Hey.”
“Yes, hello. To the med bay, then,” Alfred helps you over to the med bay on shaky legs. You get halfway there when you feel your legs suddenly drenched in hot wetness.
You shake your head, in too much pain to be embarrassed, but your mind latches onto something else, “Sorry, Alfred, that’s going to be a headache to clean up.”
“What? What’s going to be a headache?” Jason’s voice comes across the coms, strained, likely fighting. Alfred lays you back on the bed.
“I think my water broke,” you answer. The laying down only slightly eases the pressure on your body, “it's okay.”
“Your water broke?!” Some gunshots echo from the coms. You sit up the sound worry knotting.
“Jason!”
Alfred pushes you back down, “Now, Miss, you must calm down. Master Todd will be alright.”
You settle back on the bed at Alfred’s insistence, another contraction hitting you. You groan with a hand on your belly. Alfred gets to work prepping for the birth, but your mind can only focus on two things. Your daughter was painfully on her way, and Jason was not by your side.
The rumble of engines echoes through the cave. Your head tips, vision blurry with unshed tears, “Jason?”
“Not quite,” Damian’s voice meets your ears, and you cry softly. Where was Jason?
“Hey, Hey, Hey,” a hand curls around yours, your eyes make out a puff of blonde.
“Steph, hi. Where’s Jason?” you ask pitifully.
She squeezes your hand, “on his way right now. He’ll be here soon. Just hang on.”
A tear tracks down your cheek as another contraction hits. They were too close.
“I will check her dilation then, Pennyworth.”
“No!” you sit up with a rush, regret it and settle back down, eyes on Damian. He raises a brow at you, “I love you, buddy, you know that, but you do not get to look, let alone stick your fingers up my vagina.”
Steph laughs next to you, and Damian looks at you, rather disgruntled. Alfred nods as he pulls on gloves, “I do have to agree with Miss, Master Damian. You are too young and perhaps too close to this. If I may, miss?”
At his question directed at you, you hesitantly agree. Damian leaves the med bay pouting as he walks to the computer. You sniffle as Alfred checks your cervix. He casts a glance at you and Steph before he calls out to Damian, “How far is Master Jason?”
“A few minutes at best, Pennyworth,” he replies. Alfred looks back at you again.
“Miss, baby will be here sooner than later. I know you and Master Jason had a birth plan?” Alfred asks.
You nod, but any thought of what your birth plan was is out the window, “I can’t remember.”
“That’s alright,” he reassures, then turns to Steph, “Miss. Brown, would you be so kind as to call Doctor Thompkins? Her guidance will be needed.”
Steph nods and slips from your tight grasp you didn't know you had. Your hand curl into the bed as you ask, “Alfred, have you ever delivered a baby?”
“I’m afraid not, miss. But we will make it through this together.” He nods, “and master Jason will make it on time.”
You shake your head, voice cracking with tears, “I can’t do this without him.”
“It will be alright,” he attempts to soothe you. Steph returns with her phone, and she offers it to Alfred. He pulls his gloves from his hands and takes the phone, “Good evening, Doctor Thompkins…”
Steph prys your hand from the bed, letting you squeeze as your contractions come and go, tears race down your cheeks. This was far more painful than your almost early birth, and you wished more and more for an epidural you knew would not come.
Another engine roars into the cave, but you're so lost in the haze of another contraction that you miss it. Steph's hand is replaced by one that’s larger, still wrapped in a leather glove. A rough kiss is pressed to your sweat-damp forehead. Your eyes flicker open and cry again at the sight of Jason, your body working on instinct, trying to hug him.
“Jason, Thank god.”
He works his glove off one hand with his teeth, then trades the one holding yours to pull off the other glove. His now freed hand moves to stroke your hair, gently pressing you back on the bed.
“I’m here, Mama. You’re doing great.” He murmurs against your hair, “How’re you feeling?”
“I feel like I’m gonna shit myself,” you slip out, not thinking much of it. Jason’s eyes widen before his turning to look around the cave.
“Alfred!” he calls out. The man returns quickly with a pinched brow. Jason nods to you, “The baby’s coming now.”
You stare at Jason in confusion, “What? How do you- oh! Ow, jesus!”
Your hand squeezes Jason’s hand, nails digging in as a burning pain spreads to your nether regions. The phone is quickly handed from Alfred back to Steph now on speaker.
Everything becomes a blur. Doctor Thompkins on the phone, Jason holding your hand and the recurring encouragement to push from anyone. It feels like hours and only seconds. Pain and tears until you hear the sharp cry of a newborn.
There’s a wiggling weight on your chest, still screaming her lungs out. Jason squeezing your hand back as you blink dazed at him as the pain subsides. Your eyes drop to stare at her, your free hand lethargically dropping on her back.
“Catherine,” you whisper, and her crying slows, “baby, hi.”
Your voice is harsher than you care for, still thick with tears. You hear Alfred talking to Jason, and soon you sleep, top is unbuttoned enough for your sticky newborn baby girl to rest on your bare chest. You can’t even bring yourself to care. Tears of pure joy leave you, mixed with elated laughter. Jason presses another kiss to your hairline, staying as close as possible.
“She’s beautiful, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “You did so good. You made it.”
His hand meets yours on her back as she yells at the world. “Catherine, huh?”
Your eyes leave her for a split second to look at him, feeling slightly dizzy from the motion. You hadn’t told him what you were planning to name her. “Is that okay?”
“Of course,” he kisses you fondly as Alfred dabs around your holds on her, cleaning her without taking her away from you. Both of your focuses return to her, to your baby. Nine months of anxiety and emotions all built up to this moment.
This is shorter than I want it to be but I was at a good stopping point. Enjoy!
Brother's Best Friend!Eddie Masterlist
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You're thankful it’s summer, otherwise you think the rain soaking through your shirt would give you hypothermia. You'd been standing on Eddie’s porch for about 5 minutes, trying to work up the nerve to knock. He had offered, and you couldn't take another night of listening to the obscenities coming from your brother and new sister-in-law's room. They could have at least gone on a honeymoon to get most of it out, longer than a weekend in Indianapolis.
So there you stood, on Eddie's porch, soaked to the bone. Runaway bag still in your car in case Eddie had decided to change his mind. You finally knock.
Some thunder rumbles in the distance, and the rain pours harder. Your knock turns less timid in case he could hear over the rain. It was more likely that he was asleep, considering the late hour. You could always just sleep in your car for the night.
The porch light turns on like a little spring of hope in the darkness. You didn't actually want to sleep in your car. The door pulls open, and Eddie stands there, blinking at you in surprise.
“So is that offer still-” you're cut off as he drags you inside.
“What is wrong with you? It's pouring out,” his rub up and down your arms like it was cold and not midsummer.
“Really?” You quip, “I hadn't noticed.”
“Funny,” he scoffs as he pushes the door shut. He turns to stare at you, a dripping puddle in his home, “What are you doing out so late?”
You wring your hair out slightly, cringing as it joins the water at your feet. Eddie disappears down the hall as you answer flatly, “Jack and Adrianna.”
“That bad, huh?” He returns with a towel and drops it on your head. The world goes dark for a second as you let out a frustrated huff. You tug the towel and dry off with it, though your clothes are a lost cause, clinging to you like a second skin.
You fight to ignore the way Eddie's gaze drops as you answer him, “I thought I could just ignore, but it's making me sick to my stomach.”
He grins at your fake gag, “Poor princess, knocked from her tower.”
“That one's terrible,” you point accusingly as you settle the towel on your shoulder. You take a moment to find your nerves and finally ask, “Is it- can I stay… here? Your offer? Is that still on the table?”
“Of course,” he nods, frizzed hair bobbing at the motion, “what else am I gonna do? Kick you out?”
You shrug, “You could. Who knows?”
“Ouch!” his palm presses to his chest in dramatic offense, “You really think I’d do that? To you all people, princess?”
Despite all of Eddie’s playfulness, there’s a hint of worry in his eyes. You forget for just a moment that this boy has vaguely tormented you practically your whole life. You forget that two weeks ago, you would have never considered stepping foot in Eddie’s home like this, just because he was that annoying. You hate your friends for what they’ve done to you. You hug the towel closer around you and softly reply, “No, Eddie, I don't think you would do that.”
He stares at you. His fingers tap against his leg, and then he steps closer, grabbing the corner edge of the towel. You startle slightly as he presses it to the corner of your eye and down your cheek, drying your face.
“Good,” he murmurs, not quite meeting your eye, “I’d have to have a stern talking to myself if I made you think like that.”
All you can do is stare wide-eyed at Eddie, letting him dry your face for you. You're caught in the whirlwind again. Had he always been like this? Had you been ignoring it all only to be annoyed?
Eddie’s eyes drop, like they had in the kitchen the night he’d stayed over. Your lips twitch as you try not to think about him kissing you. You whisper instead, “I should get my stuff.”
“Your stuff?” he murmurs back, stroking a strand of damp hair behind your ear. You don’t think he’s doing any of this on purpose, but he was making all of it really hard.
You step back away from him, and it seems to snap him from wherever he was. His hand drops from the air as you answer, “Yeah, my stuff.”
You gesture to the door, “I brought clothes and things. I mean, I’m not planning on moving in or anything. I just don't know how long the rabbits will be going.”
He snorts at your comment, “Well, this storm probably won’t let up for another hour or so. I'll grab your stuff then. You can borrow something dry.”
“Oh no, that's not-” you try to stop him, but he’s already disappeared down the hall again. The moment he reappears with a pile of clothes, you're back on him, “It's not necessary. I’m already drenched. I'll just run out and grab- what are you doing?”
Eddie's arm hooks over your shoulder, and he pulls you deeper into his home. You’d been here only a few times. All of them were because Jack needed to drop something off for Eddie. You don’t know that you’d ever made it further than the front doorway. Now you were being led deeper and deeper inside to… the bathroom?
You blink as Eddie turns on the light to the small room, seemingly undeterred by your questioning, “Take a shower. Wear my clothes for a bit. I promise I’ll grab your stuff as soon as it stops raining.”
Your lips purse at the offer. A shower and dry clothes did sound nice. There wasn’t anything weird about it being his clothes. You needed to get over yourself. “Fine.”
“Good girl. I’ll be out here if you need anything,” He promptly shuts the door.
You’re going to kill him. You’re going to kill Eddie Munson dead. Who just says that? Good girl. He said it so casually, like you weren't… well, you weren't his anything, you suppose. You were his best friend's little sister, and that’s it. You really needed to get over yourself.
I HAVE BEEN WORKING NONSTOP FOR THREE WEEKS AND I COME BACK TO TWO SMUTS??? (Ya girl was so tired I was half asleep with drooping eyes on tumblr) BUT THEY WERE SOOOO GOOD!!!! Everything you worked on was so great I wasn’t able to participate in this this time but I’m prepared for next time! Have a wonderful day and keep up the great work 🫶🫶🫶 (you had me like this 🫢)
Thank you, honey! The two smut were honestly very surprising to me, and I actually have already gotten on more in the inbox. I just don't think that I write smut very well, so it's shocking that people would want more of that, but I'm happy to supply.
I want to get the habit of doing that writing challenge every month or so because I get into like a flow state usually (if I don't have to work, poor planning on my part). So probably not June, but I think July. We'll have to wait and see.
Get some rest! Three weeks of straight work sounds awful and exhausting. Don't burn out and have an amazing week!😘
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Hiiii can I please request a DIKY Jason Todd x reader smut where it's a year or two into the relationship and Jason is jealous so backshot time, but the entire drabble is literally just the smut pretty please. Thank youuuuuu.
Okay, last one! Honestly, three smuts for this challenge is very funny, as is two of them being for DIKY. You guys just miss them being weirdly horny for each other (same). This one is actually short! not like the other one, where I apparently lost my mind and is weirdly long. I hope this fits. Thank you, and please enjoy!
Warnings: SMUT, Jealous Jason Todd, doggy position, backshot, some cum play, Jason's a freak after getting over the virgin stuff apparently and I love that
Kandy's writing challenge May 2026
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“Who was he?” Jason grits out. The only response you manage is a harsh moan, barely muffled by the sheets your face had been shoved into. Your head is pulled back for you, a sting to your scalp as Jason hauls you up to your hands as he pummels into you from behind. The bite of pain and the arch of your back make you whimper.
“That wasn’t an answer, sugar,” he chuckles behind you.
You couldn’t believe it. If someone had told you two years ago or even a year ago when you and Jason started finally dating, that he would be jealous, that he would be mean and use his cock to prove something, you would’ve called them insane.
Not Jason, not your sweet Jay. Objectively, you knew somewhere deep in your mind that Jason could get jealous. Dick teased a bit, after he’d gotten over being the first person you had figured out, about how Jason steamed that day of the brunch because you had stared too long at Dick. all because you’d figured out I was Nightwing. He’s so stupid.
There was also the Red Hood persona that you had befriended before you knew Jason and he were one and the same. He liked to rile, liked to tease until you were thoroughly flustered and then push a little more. You’d forgotten about all of it until it came to bite you in the ass literally, an imprint on one cheek you were sure would bruise.
“Jay!” you cry as he tugs your hair a little bit more, driving your hips back. Your hands curl hard into the sheets below. He slows his thrusts, and his hand that had been gripping your hip moves to spread your cheeks to watch himself slide back into you harshly, the breath knocked out of you.
“I know that wasn’t his name,” Jason says condescendingly as he releases your hair.
Your chest and head drop back to the bed. He doesn’t pull out again, just grinds deeper while he lays his weight on top of you. His nose nudges your ear as his arm circles your waist, keeping you pressed to his hard chest, and to keep you in place for him.
You whimper under the affection as he whispers, “Tell me his name.”
“Don’t know,” you breathe out, peeking at him from the corner of your eye, cheek to the bed, “he just sat down and started talking. I wasn't even listening.”
The iceberg lounge was not your typical date night, both of you preferring to stay home, but Jason, or rather Red Hood, had some business to take care. He’d left you at the bar just for about fifteen minutes, the bartender tasked with making sure nothing happened to you.
Apparently, fifteen minutes is too long. Some random man from out of town settled on the stool beside you to chat you up. And chat you up he did, you couldn’t get a word in edgewise. You spent the last ten minutes of waiting for Jason, sharing annoyed looks with the bartender and sipping on a virgin daiquiri.
When you finally spotted Jason making his way towards you, you had missed the deep frown he wore, too eager to be away from the man as you announced, "There's my boyfriend, gotta go."
Jason was seething. You honestly hadn’t noticed until he’d flipped on your stomach to drive into you. Not uncommon, but it was typically a joint move; this was not. You were not complaining.
“You weren’t even listening, hmm?” he murmurs as his hand slips to rub at your clit, grinding his cock into you.
Your face pinches in pleasure, hips pressing back, “yeah, yes, was waiting for you, just wanted you.”
You can feel the second the tense leaves him, his hands gentling slightly, “I believe you. He’s a fucking tool, though.”
He sits back up, fingers still circling your clit as his other hand presses to your back, keeping your chest down. He pulls back and fucks back into you in a motion that makes your toes curl, a whine leaving you.
“Asshole should’ve known you were taken. I mark you up and didn’t do shit,” he grumbles as he picks up his pace, referring to the lovely trail of hickeys on your collar. Your body starts to shake as he repeatedly presses against the spot inside you that makes the heat in your belly spiral.
“Gotta do something different maybe,” he pants, hand slipping from your back to the bed beside your head for more leverage, “Something fucked up maybe, make you smell like me or something.”
You don't know what he’s talking about, nor do you care, so close to coming as he took his upset out on you, “Please, fuck!”
“Yeah, ya like that idea, sugar?” he keeps a steady pressure on your clit, hips bucking against you, slicking dripping down your thighs.
It builds, builds, and builds until, “Oh my god!”
You clamp down on Jason like a vice, and he talks you through your orgasm even as your ears turn fuzzy, and you bury your face into the bed.
“That’s my girl. Fucking perfect for me.”
And then his dick disappears, and you're left feeling empty as you spasm around nothing, so used to him lingering, and so do his fingers on your clit. You whine as you come back down from your high, head twisting to try and figure out what he's doing behind you.
Jason lets out a tight groan just as you glance back at him. Cum splatters on your ass and down your low back. The hot liquid making you gasp slightly, eyes widening as he keeps stroking himself, pushing out more cum. He breaths hard, hunching over you slightly before he’s rubbing his dick head against your skin, smearing sticky cum.
Your own breath stutters, “Jay, what’re you-”
“Making you smell like me, sweetheart. Gonna cover you in it till they catch a hint,” he grumbles. He lets go of himself, but only so his hand can spread the cum further. You squirm at the feeling.
I have one more that I'm going to try and get written today. Hopefully, I can get it done. Thank you to everyone who sent in requests, and I hope everyone enjoyed it!!
If you’re still taking requests, may I request Jason Todd x fem!reader where they argue with each other? But a more light hearted arguing, not actual conflict. More for the love of the game rather than actually being heated.
I hope this makes sense ^^’
Thank you!
Thank you!! This doesn't necessarily feel like arguing, just a little bicker. I hope you like it!
Kandy's writing challenge May 2026
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The sun was warm on your back, a brief, clear day in Gotham amidst the summer rain. Jason had left you for a moment to get a soda from one of the food trucks, and your patience was wearing thin for a cold drink.
“Have I ever told you that you're very, very pretty?” Jason’s voice meets your ears. You know he’s teasing because you know you must look miserable, sweaty and hot in the humid air.
“I don’t like you,” you respond, lifting a hand to shade the sun as you look at him from your seat.
He grins, hovering close before pressing a can of soda to your cheek, “Are you sure?”
Your eyes flutter under the cold, taking the can and rolling it down to your neck. His hand slips from the can to settle on your shoulder. You smack it away and then fan yourself.
“You’re so mean to me, sweetheart,” he coos as he sits down beside you.
“And you’re too hot,” you reply, fanning yourself. You open your eyes to meet his in slight apology, “Sorry.”
“You should be,” he nods as he opens his own soda, taking a drink of it, “This trek into hell was your idea.”
You sit up and turn on him in the accusation, “What?”
“Let’s go for a walk, you said. It’ll be nice, you said,” he mocks fondly, casting you a glance that pushes away any meanness in it.
You shake your head, not fighting your own smile, “It was nice… until it got hot. I didn’t plan for that.”
“Sure you didn’t,” Jason pressed his knee to yours, “I forgive you for not knowing the weather though.”
“Wow, what a gentleman,” you roll your eyes.
Jason’s hand finds yours, but you don’t push him away this time. He leans closer, and you offer him a kiss despite the way you feel in the hot humidity.
“Thank you for the soda, handsome,” you murmur as he eases back out of your space, reading your temperament.
He kisses your sweat-damp hairline, “Of course, sweet girl.”
Hi! I'd like to submit a request for your challenge! I don't know how to explain it very well (English isn't my first language), but it's a very simple idea: the reader was Jason Todd's crush before he died, so the scenario would be him meeting her again after being revived! Thank you! <3
Short and sweet with a dash of vague angst, but how could there not be, all things considered. Thank you!
Kandy's writing challenge May 2026
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I remember you.
Those were the first words you said to Jason. They were just words, but it was you, your voice. He hadn’t meant to get too close, but it appears you’d gotten smart in the time he’d been gone.
Jason.
There was an ache to the way you said his name. But it was the way you looked at him that would burn in his mind for a long time.
“How?” Your voice is sharper now as you stare at him.
He glances over his shoulder, the cold rain soaking through his sweater, “What?”
“You're not a ghost. You don't look- you're older than he was then.”
You’re older than he was. Despite openly calling him Jason, you say he like the Jason standing before isn’t really him.
“I’m not a ghost,” he finally answers, and you flinch. Maybe you thought he was a figment of your imagination, something hovering just in your eyesight but not close enough to speak. You’d caught him in an alley, and he had yet to figure out how.
You step closer to him, like he was a stray dog, and really, he was. You're the first person from before he’d even tried to stay close to, even if it had been stalking.
“Jason,” you repeat, worry eating at your tone. Soon, you stand in front of him, holding your umbrella above both your heads, “I don’t understand.”
You were prettier than Jason remembered, which was fascinating because you had always been pretty to Jason. The lovely girl he went to school with, one of his few friends he’d managed at Gotham Academy.
It’s Jason’s turn to flinch when your fingers press against his cheek. His eyes squeeze shut, the bump of his scar aches under your fingers, not knowing a touch that was soft in so long.
“You’re real,” you murmur, “You’re alive.”
His hand curls around your wrist to pull your hand away, the touch feeling like too much after having nothing for so long. He wasn’t ready for this. How had you known he was following you? How did you corner him? This wasn’t supposed to be how it would go.
“I’m sorry,” his voice comes out hoarse, “I can’t do this, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. Your face pinches at the term. It makes you think of childish affection. Teasing from boys and Jason standing firm about it.
Jason steps back into the rain as you stand under the umbrella. You step to follow, and he holds out a hand, “just not yet.”
“Okay,” you still with the umbrella in hand, “I miss you. I miss my friend. You don't have to be alone.”
It's a guess that he’s alone. You just figured it would’ve been on the news if Bruce Wayne's son had been resurrected looking worse for wear. He nods and steps further into the darkness. You're left alone in the rain, confused and worried for a friend you thought you’d lost a long time ago.
I saw you were asking for requests and well, I might have one.
I would like to request something smutty with Jason Todd where it starts out as just playful wrestling after dinner or something, and it ends with them wrestling while doing something quite smutty, maybe Jason manhandles reader (not maliciously, of course)…
Only if you want to, though!
Not quite smut but definitely suggestive, some touching and tempting. I hope this fits what you wanted. Thank you!!
Kandy's writing challenge May 2026
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“No, I’m pretty sure it’s your turn to do dishes.”
“Sweetheart, you say that every time there are dishes.”
You roll your eyes where you’re slumped on the couch and against Jason, “That would be because dishes are the bane of my existence.”
“The bane of your existence? That feels dramatic,” He retorts. He sits up, and you slide down behind him.
Your face presses into his back, voice muffled, “It really is that serious.”
“It really is not,” he retorts. He stands and hooks a hand under your arm, attempting to lug you up, “Come on, up and at ‘em.”
“Noooo,” you whine, letting yourself become a dead weight.
Jason rolls his eyes at your antics, letting you flop on the couch. You pout at him, hoping he’ll fold. He glares down at you, all attitude and no heat, “I am not doing the dishes.”
“Jasoooonnnn, pleaaasssseee.” Were you throwing a bit of a tantrum? Perhaps, but the dishes really were the bane of your existence. They were always dirty!
Jason squats where you lie limp on the couch. His hand pushes hair back, then slides down your cheek to your jaw. You stare at him, easily enamored by your boyfriend and his touch, that is, until he grips your cheeks, puckering your lips. You’d frown if you could, Jason gets your pinched brows of upset instead.
“You will be doing the dishes, sweetheart, nonnegotiation,” he tells you slowly.
You attempt to speak despite how he has you, “i ick oo.”
Jason's head tips at your words, and you do just as you said you would, foot coming up to gently kick his butt where he squats. He gawks at you, jaw dropping slightly. You giggle at the look, hand coming up to try and pry his hand from your face, “I said I’ll kick you.”
“Really?” Jason questions, face a little that has you worried for a second until his next words, “You wanna tussle?”
Your hands jump defensively, already laughing, “Now hang on!”
“Too late for that,” Jason’s hands are on you. You shriek, finally moving up on the couch as you push at his tickling hands. You manage to climb from the couch onto his back, but your efforts are futile as usual. Jason was trained for this. You were not.
You end up on the floor halfway to the kitchen. You scramble on your belly away from Jason, only for him to roll his eyes. You get a hand around the foot of the table before it disappears from its grip, or rather, you're pulled from its proximity. You squeal at the cold floor pressing to your belly as your shirt slides up, Jason dragging you from your escape by the ankles.
You scramble to push up uselessly. Jason’s weight bears down on you, straddling you from behind, and you’re gently pressed down against the floor again, “That’s cheating.”
“It is not, Sweetheart. Just give up and do the dishes.” Jason offers behind you.
“No can do, babe,” you wiggle under him, fighting his weight, “god, what do you eat?”
“Are you calling me fat?” he questions in mock offense. You stifle a laugh. Your hands press to the floor, and you try to push and worm your way out.
“None of that,” his hands grapple with yours, easing your chest back down on the floor without faceplanting. You’re pinned entirely. Jason settles over you more, his chest to your back, and whispers in your ear, “Come on, baby. Be a good girl.”
Your breath hitches, body stilling its fight. The thought of fighting over dishes suddenly seems like a distant memory. Had you misread his mood? Or had you misread your mood? Your hips press back against him. Oh, it was definitely his mood.
“Won’t you?” he keeps his voice low. He presses his lips against your hairline and your cheek, not pressed to the floor, like he knows you’ve sussed him out.
“Jason,” you sigh as he ruts against your ass slightly. You wiggle again, not in escape but in want.
“Yeah, sweetheart? You need something?” he murmurs.
“You're terrible,” you huff against the floor, but let him have his way all the same.
His hands shift to pin both of yours in one. His now free hand slips to your neck, pinning you despite you not fighting, and then slides it down your back. He squeezes at your hip, taunting, teasing you.
“Jay,” you squirm. He presses his forehead against your neck, muffling a noise in your hair.
His hand sneaks under your hip, fingers skimming your waistband, “Want me to touch you?”
You hum a moan in response, hands flexing in his hold. You attempt to spread your legs slightly, even as he presses his clothed cock against your ass.
“Just say yes. Be a good girl for me. Say yes,” he urges as his hand dives into your bottoms.
“Yes,” you whine, hips lifting to ho help.
Jason, his weight, and his touch vanish the second the word leaves your mouth.
“See, it is that easy,” he says as he stands. You lay stunned on the floor and devastingly cold.
You roll over to sit up and glare at him, “Excuse me?”
“You said yes to doing the dishes,” he leans back against the counter of the island, staring smugly down at you where you sit on the floor.
“I-” you stutter and frown, then cross your arms, “Jason.”
“What? You did,” he grins, “you said yes, like a good girl.”
“I can’t- I'm done with you,” you pout, “No sex for a week.”
“What?” Jason seems to have finally caught your own urgency, “Why?”
You smack your hand on the floor, “Are you really asking me that?”
“Yes, I am,” he steps back towards, “You can’t do this to me, baby. It's not allowed.”
You're hauled from the floor and thrown over his shoulder, “Jason Todd, put me down!”
Jason drops you down on the couch and climbs on top of you. He pushes your thighs open and settles snug up against you, “I’ll do the dishes, just let me have you.”
“Really?” you brighten under him, at the chore no longer being yours. You happy shift to undo the button of your bottoms, rucking your shirt higher, “are you that easy?”
“You know I am, don't tease,” he drops against you, just as eager.
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Logistically, very funny to me that I got two smut requests during this writing challenge when I haven't posted smut in a while. I feel like I'm bad at it now😂😬
Hello! I love your writing so so much and I’m here to make a request for your drabble challenge! Can you do fluff with Jason Todd x Pregnant!Reader and reader is going through their old baby stuff and crying that they’re soon gonna have a baby so small?
Thank you for your time!
Thank you! I definitely wrote this with the Baby Bump universe in mind. I don't know if that was what you wanted. A fun fact about (that'll make sense while reading why I'm sharing) my mom is she didn't really hold onto baby items, but she did hold onto weird things. She still has my sisters' and my baby teeth. Also, my older sister's umbilical cord. Ah, parents. Please enjoy!
Kandy's writing challenge May 2026
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The nursery was nearly done to your joy, not that it mattered necessarily. You still had two months before your due date. It felt so far away and yet incredibly distant. Your parents had stopped by briefly on a long coastal road trip to drop off some items you didn’t know they had.
I kept them all, your mother had said, I know it's a bit strange and I never wanted you to feel forced into trying to have a baby, my sweet, so I never told you.
Baby clothes and toys. Two boxes full that Jason had happily moved from their car to the baby room while your parents awed and cooed at you in the living room. It's not that he was on bad terms with your parents. They were great, but they were traditional. You had no ring on your finger, but a baby on the way. They frowned about it but ultimately fawned over the idea of a new grandbaby.
Jason gives the crib a sturdy shake as he sets down his tools, “Think that’ll do it.”
You lift your head from where you were lying on your back on the floor. Not the optimal position for a pregnant woman, but it had felt somewhat comfortable. You watch him shake the crib again.
“Can you mimic if the baby thought it was a trampoline?” you question as you rub over your belly. You get a bump against your hand.
Jason snorts at your question but obliges in a show that makes you laugh, “I think it’ll last.”
“That's good,” you reach your hand towards him, “Help me. I’m a damsel in distress, and I can’t get up.”
“You're a real comedian, you know?” he replies as he leaves the crib to help you up. His hand curls around your back as he gently sits you up. “You want the chair?”
You nod at the idea. The new rocking chair, you hadn’t even gotten to sit in it yet. Just like sitting up, Jason helps you stand, keeping you steady. He keeps a hand on your back as he walks you to the chair. You smile at his worry, “I’m not broken. I can walk.”
“Can I not touch the mother of my child?” He teases back as you settle into the cushioned chair.
A sigh of relief leaves you, and you wave him off, “I guess, if you want to.”
“This is what I mean, comedian,” he says, kissing your forehead.
“Ha, Ha,” you mock, “Can I have one of the boxes?”
He lifts a brow, glancing at the mess of boxes in the room, “You gonna fold them up for me?”
You frown at him, feeling like he’s being mean before you look around the room too, “Oh, no, I mean the ones from my parents. I’ll unpack, and you put away?”
“You got it, sweetheart,” He easily moves one of the boxes in front of you, opening it up for you as well.
You don’t move for a moment, staring down at the items. A yellow and white floral onesie sits on top of the pile. It shows a little wear; one of the stitched flowers loose on the fabric. Overall, you are stunned by how small it was. One hand holds onto the sides of the box in awe at the item. Jason pulls open drawers in the new dresser beside you, clearly ready to fill it with baby clothes and ignorant of the well bubbling in your chest.
Your fingers finally grace the soft fabric. You know that the item has been worn before, whether that was by you, a cousin, or a niece, is unknown. None of it mattered any because it was little and now it was going to be worn by your baby. Your little girl. She was almost here, and she was going to be so small.
There's tears running down your cheeks before you can stop them, not that you could have tried anyway. A near sob escapes your throat as you pull one tiny little sock from the corner of the box, “Oh my god.”
Jason’s head snaps to you in worry, a spike in his chest that something had happened. But then he catches the onesie, the sock held in your hand, and then your bubblering face. He leaves the dresser to kneel beside you.
“Easy, mama. What’s the matter?” His hand slides to the back of your neck, massaging as you breathe out wobbly. Jason likes to think he’s gotten good at helping with your elevated emotions, but sometimes he just could not understand what was getting to you.
“They’re just so little,” you choke out. You pull a small pair of stretchy ‘jeans’ from the box and cry a little bit hard. You press your face to the few pieces of baby clothes in your hand.
Jason smiles fondly at your emotion. His hand slides over your swollen belly, and he’s sure what he’s about to say will make it worse, “That’s because she’s going to be little too.”
He was right. You drop the clothes to your lap and curl an arm around his neck in an awkward hug. You speak muffled against his neck and still very much crying, “I hate you.”
“I know, mama,” he coos affectionately, stroking up and down your back. You stay like that till your back hurts, pulling away with red eyes and a frown. You look like the prettiest, miserable person ever to Jason.
“What is it, honey?” he tucks your hair. You hold up the now-bundled clothes in your lap.
“These smell bad.” You don’t give him a choice on whether or not he actually wants to smell it, pressing it to his nose. He gently catches your wrist as he smells. His face scrunches dramatically at the musty scent. It makes you laugh. Your grin has him pushing his hand affectionately down your back again.
“Okay, Laundry first, then we're breaking in the new dresser,” he says, pushing your hand to drop the clothes back in the box.
You nod in agreement, wiping roughly at your under eye. He stills your movement and takes over, gently stroking across your cheeks until your tear free. He gives you a gentle kiss, “I love you, you know that, right?”
Your lip wobbles, waterline growing wet again, “I love you too.”
And now you're crying again. What was he going to do with you?
