RAVYEOLII

For such an easily flustered boy, your boyfriend is very greedy. He’s always biting off more than he can chew and paying the price later on when he’s face to face with you and can’t form a proper sentence. You think it’s the cutest thing on earth—he thinks that he has a cursed mind and even more fucked up mouth for thinking he could ever own up to everything he had stated in your text messages. “Promise I’ll make you feel good, babe.” “Can’t wait to taste how fucking sweet you are on my tongue.” And now he’s sitting on the edge of your bed—still in his suit from patrols—refusing to touch even a sliver of your skin. That’s right, the cocky superhero who has saved the city more times than you could count on two hands was a nervous wreck. “You can touch me, you know?” You giggle, he doesn’t. His cheeks flush a peachy color as he scoots just a few inches closer. “I–I know that, was getting to that part,” He murmurs, a rough palm landing on your thigh with hesitance. He leans in just a little closer, close enough for his warm breath to tickle your skin. “See what you do to me? Make me so damn nervous, and hard, especially that.” He huffs, fingers fondling your soft flesh. “Yeah? I bet you love it, though.” You tease back, breath caressing the tip of his nose. His head snaps to the side like you just set off a bomb. You watch the red pigment slowly develop on his cheekbone—then spread to his nose.

“Fuck—yeah, I do. Way too much,” His lips quirk up into a soft smile, and the tent in his pants grows by half an inch.

Big tsundere vibes, will come up with a “logical reason” on why he HAS to come with you to your doctors appointment. He HAS to stay close to you on the sidewalk. He MUST stay within your perimeter because "anything could happen..." Very common when he first started catching feelings, over time, he was more honest.

Has a BITCH FIT if he wakes up alone in bed and you’re gone. Mr. Grumpy quietly standing at the entry way of the kitchen as you cook breakfast. Groggy and sleepy. In the end, he has you back in bed with him, wrapped tightly in his arms (and one leg). Gives grumpy kisses before he passes out again but you're not leaving anytime soon.

Your conversations don't end if you need to use the bathroom or have to shower. He’s sitting on the toilet as you wash your hair, chatting about his weird dream last night all to venting about Bruce being an ass (again). He’s a chatterbox with you because of how well you listen and how safe you make him feel to express himself. That's very precious to him.

Casually plays with your hair when waiting in line. Twirling your hair or brushing his fingers through your scalp. This isn’t PDA, at least not intentionally, he doesn’t think about it as that. He just fidgets a lot and playing with your hair happens to calm him down, nothing more....(bombastic side eye)

Randomly puts his hands in your pockets, either your hoodie or your jeans, it’s the best feeling ever to Jason yet it makes you flustered that someone needs THIS MUCH physical contact with you. Especially someone as tough and edgy like Jason who keeps to himself from everyone! When cuddling, Jason likes to listen to your heartbeat as you hold him. It's his favorite song that he can listen to for hours. No one has ever made him feel this way. He occasionally glances at your sleeping face and it only fills him with determination to protect you. You weren't someone with superpowers, mastery of martial arts, or special abilities like others he had known. But you've kept him more safe than any hero he's ever met.

jason todd x fem!reader summary: jason can't seem to understand why you keep talking about "your" wedding contains: fluff, established relationship, pet names word count: ~600

You and Jason laid in bed, morning light shuffling in through the blinds and illuminating the soft bedding. Jason had one arm around your waist as his head was tucked into the crook of your neck, eyes shut contentedly. Your eyes were open, staring blankly at the page of your book as you listened to Jason’s soft breathing mix with the morning birdsongs that rolled in with the light. 

“Jay?” you whispered quietly, testing to see if he was awake.

“Hm?” he grunted in reply, nose nestling further into your neck.

You kept quiet for a moment, hesitant to bring up such a topic before finally asking, “Do you ever think about what you want your wedding to be like?”

Jason was silent and you felt his arm subtly tense around you. You started to worry you had crossed some line you didn’t know existed before he replied, “What do you mean?”

“I mean like how many people, what type of cake, the venue…that stuff. How do you picture your future wedding?”

You felt Jason’s brow furrow against your skin. “I’m still confused,” he mumbled, lips brushing ur neck and placing a soft kiss there.

You pursed your lips, puzzled at how he could be confused by such a question. “What are you confused about? When I picture my wedding I know I want—”

Jason abruptly sat up straight, causing you to stop speaking and stare at him in confusion. He was really starting to freak you out.

“Why do you keep saying it like that?” he asked, looking at you with a mix of annoyance, confusion, and a hint of hurt. 

“Saying it like what?”

Jason looked away for a moment, letting the sunrays filtering in illuminate his features. His scars were highlighted and when his eyes met yours again, you could see them so clearly, their mix of green and blue capturing you before he spoke again. 

“Saying ‘your wedding’ or ‘my wedding’. Why do you keep doing that?”

“Um…” you paused, laughing nervously. “What am I supposed to say, Jay?”

“Doll,” he brought his hand up to cradle your face. “There’s not gonna be a ‘my wedding’ or a ‘your wedding’...only ‘our wedding’. I’m not getting married unless it’s to you, princess.”

“Oh.” Your face flushed and your eyes widened, a soft smile breaking out across your lips before you buried your face in Jason’s chest in embarrassment. 

Jason laughed, bringing his arms up to envelope you and leaning down to place a kiss upon your head. You were consumed by his intoxicating scent - the expensive cologne Dick had bought him for Christmas, gunpowder from last night’s patrol, your favorite shampoo he swore he never used, and the fresh smell of clean linen sheets. 

“Yeah, ‘oh’.” He smiled as you brought your head back up to meet his. Jason kissed you softly and sweetly, still sluggish from sleep. “What, were you plannin’ on marrying someone else?”

Your eyes widened as you pulled back. “No! No, of course not! I just…didn’t know if you wanted that.”

He looked at you with a gentle, lovesick expression on his face. “I never thought I did either, doll.” He paused which made your heart pick up nervously again. But he just brought his hands to yours and raised one to kiss it tenderly. “Until I met you.”

You flushed again, swatting him away playfully. “Who knew you were such a romantic, Todd?”

“Always have been,” he pulled you back into his arms. “Just hadn’t met the right girl until now.”

IN WHICH... jason is your boyfie :)

warnings: smut, fluff, f!reader, cussing

bf!jason todd who spends his free nights sat in your shared bed, with pride and prejudice in hand, blue-light glasses perched on his nose, and—most importantly—you sat in his lap. he loves to read his novels with his pretty lady curled against him.

bf!jason todd who climbs in through the window after patrol and immediately seeks you out, sprawling out atop of you. he doesn't even bother taking his suit off—he just whines softly, reaches for your hand, and shoves it into his hair.

bf!jason todd whose favorite position is either mating press or doggy. on one hand, he loves to have your legs thrown over his shoulders as he pounds into you, looking into your pretty eyes, seeing drool spill from your mouth. on the other hand, he also loves to see the deep, pretty arch of your back as your face is smushed into the mattress—loves to see the jiggle of your ass as his hips slap against yours.

bf!jason todd who always twirls your hair around his finger while you rant to him. his eyes never leave yours, attention never drifts away from the words pouring from your pretty mouth.

bf!jason todd who def whimpers and cries when he cums, especially if its inside of you. his broken past makes intimacy a sacred thing to him; he feels so incredibly safe and loved when you're making love that he can't help but whine as he releases.

bf!jason todd who practically eats your face when you make out. his head is tilted at such a deep angle so he can reach the deepest depths of your mouth. his long tongue? down your throat. his lips slide lewdly against yours, and he lets out the softest little grunts and groans. his hand grips your throat firmly—not so hard that you can't breathe, but enough to remind you that he's there, in the flesh. his other hand rests on your ass. he's a very messy kisser too—lots of spit, everywhere.

bf!jason todd who calls you all kinds of sweet little names. darling, babygirl, baby, love, sweet girl, mama, ma, lovie, you name it. how can he not come up with the most loving titles for his favorite girl?

bf!jason todd who can never keep his hands off you. he's always feeling you up, groping you everywhere. just woke up? he's engulfing you in a cuddle, hands sliding down your back and squeezing your ass. showering? his slick, soapy hands can't help but paw at your tits as you face away from him, rinsing your hair.

bf!jason todd who can be such a cuddly dog when he's at home with you. big body being spooned by you as you guys watch TV, head in your lap when you're reading, chest pressed to yours as he nestles his head in the crook of your shoulder, eager to hear you lull him to sleep with sweet nothings in his ear.

bf!jason todd who's 8 inches long and thick with a little bit of left curve.

Jason Todd would absolutely pay for your nails. Not just because he liked the way they looked—though god, he did—but because it was his money, his treat, and if anyone so much as suggested you shouldn’t, he’d laugh in their face before flipping them off. He’d let you drag to the salon, slouching in the chair beside you like a bored prince, scrolling through his phone with one boot propped on his knee. But then he’d glance up, catch the way the light hit the fresh gloss on your nails, and suddenly he’s leaning in, voice low. “That one. The dark red. Like blood.” And when you raised an eyebrow, he’d smirk, all teeth. “What? It’s hot.”

He liked your hands on him. Everywhere. The way your fingers curled around his cock, nails biting just enough to make him hiss; the way they tangled in his hair when he was between your thighs, his name a prayer on your lips; the way they scraped down his back when he was inside you, leaving half-moon imprints he’d trace later in the mirror with a grin.

His favorite, though, was the way they scraped. Not hard—just enough. The light drag of your nails over his scalp when you were half-asleep, your fingers splayed in his hair like you were anchoring him to the earth. He’d go boneless under your touch, all that restless energy finally still, his breath warm against your collarbone. You could feel the moment he gave in, the way his muscles loosened, the way his weight settled over you like a second skin.

That’s how you found yourselves now: him sprawled across you on the couch, one of your hands fisted in his hair, the other slipped under his shirt, tracing the ridges of his spine. He was limp, completely out of it, his face buried in your neck like he was trying to breathe you in. You, meanwhile, were rambling, because of course you were.

"And get this," you muttered, your voice muffled against his hair, "when they’re playing against each other years later, Patrick does the serve Art does. And Art immediately knows. Like, his whole face just—" You pulled your hand from his hair to mime an explosion. "—because he recognizes it."

Jason made a sleepy, incoherent noise. "How?"

You rolled your eyes so hard it should’ve been audible. "I told you this. You weren’t listening."

"Was listening," he mumbled, but his voice was thick, his words slurring together. "Just… don’t get tennis."

"It’s not about tennis," you scoffed, giving his hair a sharp tug. He hissed, but didn’t move—just pressed closer, like he was daring you to do it again. "It’s about the subtext. The way they’re all lying to themselves. Art thinks he’s finally won Tashi over, Patrick thinks he’s over Art, Tashi’s just… there, smirking like she’s already won everything in life when really all she ever wanted was to play. But that was taken from her. Because of the injury. "

Jason went quiet for a long moment. You could feel the gears turning in his head, slow and reluctant, like a rusted engine. Then, with a sigh that ruffled your hair: "Sounds like a bunch of people making bad decisions over a game they take too seriously."

You laughed, because of course that’s what he’d take from it. "It’s about love and competition and—"

"Scratch." His voice was suddenly sharp, his head lifting just enough that his breath ghosted over your pulse point. His fingers found your wrist, guiding your nails back into his hair, pressing down. "You’re not scratching hard enough."

And just like that, the conversation was over. Because Jason Todd had the attention span of a goldfish and the focus of a predator, and right now, all he wanted was the sting of your nails.

"Jason, I was talking. "

"Mhm." His teeth grazed your throat. "Talk, then."

You huffed, but your fingers curled tighter in his hair anyway.

the air in your shared room is still warm and thick as you both come down. jason collapses to your side, his sweat slicked chest rising and falling with each heavy breath and you can almost feel yours becoming short again.

there's a pretty smile spread on his lips and a soft dusting of rouge on the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose when he turns to look at you, dark curls framing his his face. "hi you"

a smile, toothy and sweet, mirroring his own breaks out on your lips, "hi jason" he looks to be glowing, soft around the edges and your heart can't help but fill with fondness.

gentle heat radiates from your flushed skin while exhaustion pulls at your eyelids making them feel too heavy to hold open. he turns to lay on his side, one hand tucked under his head as the other traces along your arm in a feather light touch. it's quite for some time. both of you content in laying together in comfortable silence when a question forms in the back of your mind and travels down to sit on the edge of your tongue, itching to be asked —

"what's your favourite part of my body?"

jason raises an eyebrow, an expression between a deadpan and genuine confusion on his face (or perhaps it was concern that he failed to make you feel just how dear to him all of you was just a few comments earlier.) kissed bitten lips part to answer your question with an answer but you quickly cut him off with a short playful roll of your eyes.

"i know you like my body jason. clearly" taking a moment to gesture to the blooming hickies and faint bite marks that adorn you, "that wasn't the question"

it takes a second for jason to respond, the question (and reassurance of your satisfaction) settling. jason was quick and witty and often sharp tongued with others, but with you he always took a moment. as if to savour each word you offer him, and to allow himself a chance at stringing together an adequate response.

shifting his body, jason positions himself on the arm that had been tucked beneath his head leaning his weight on it while the other takes your left hand, pressing a kiss to your palm before sliding his fingers along it to interlock with yours. "i like your hands." he says it simply, eyes locked on onto your heavy lidded ones and almost immediately you feel much more awake.

he descends, pressing another kiss that lingers a little longer to your hips and making his way up wards. "i like your hips. i like this soft part of your tummy." his lips brushing the plump skin below your navel. warm kisses climb higher up your body, and he presses a kiss below your chest where the soft flesh meets your ribs. "i like you here," you can feel a smile forming, mischievous. his tongue peeks out, licking a short stripe before continuing, "especially after a long day before you get to shower and you smell fucking delici-"

your free hand threads through soft curls in attempt to tug him away. "jason stop. ew" there is no urgency in your voice. he take your other wrist in the same hand, shadow of his grin lingering in his lips as he's pressing a kiss to your pulse point, "i like your wrists too"

butterflies erupt in your stomach, your drowsiness long forgotten. "okay! thank you jason that's- thats enough" you hope your face doesn't look as hot as it feels.

safe and sound. ⨾ Jason Todd ¹⁸⁺

pairing: Jason Todd x reader

summary: You were always tired from the stress and life, good thing Jason knows you so well to please you even when you're sleepy.

tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, flufffff, established relationship, jason is a gentleman, soft sleepy sex, jason todd is a consent king, almost no dialogues, unprotected p in v sex, creampie.

wc: 1.7k words.

a/n: i am so sorry for only making this one now nonnie!!! i love the request so much i wanted to make a drabble but it turned out longer. also yes this made me wanna cry bcs i want him so bad.

masterlist

For how ferocious he looks and acts to others, somehow, Jason Todd is the most tender person you know.

Like when you had a restless night where sleep just won’t come, his deep and gravelly voice would be a balm to your heart and mind, lulling you to sleep in an instant as he talked about anything and everything—from a childhood story, to a cat he met during patrol last week.

Mornings were a ritual where he’d wake up first, already washing up, ready in the kitchen to brew some coffee for the day. He would never wake you up on purpose unless you prompt him the night before.

When you’re sick? It feels like his tenderness triples—no, it was times a hundred. He would fuss out of love. He’d cook your favorite soup, brew some tea with a hint of honey for your sore throat. He would never mind if you were dampening the sheets underneath you as you sweat the fever out when you sleep, immediately changing the soft cotton the moment you wake up so you won’t feel chafed.

Even when you’re needy—he’d know your cues. Your eyes would flicker with a certain kind of look, filled with craving and, most of all, love. Jason would immediately ask what you want, however you want it, even if it’s full-on rough or lazy and soft. anything, he’d be there to make it come true.

꒰ content ꒱ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ you sneak into the library for a quickie but get distracted by the books . . . jason todd x fem!reader, they makeout, suggestive, slice of life, reader’s wearing a sundress

inspired by this

Jason follows you around the library, his callused hand in yours. Amusement crinkles the corners of his eyes when he sees you scanning the shelves, looking for the perfect place for a quick fuck—your words, not his.

Jason had just given you a "you serious right now?" look and let you tug him around like a dog on a leash.

But even before that, he knew. His eyes had trailed over your form, over your short sundress, the one that had his head spinning since the moment he saw you in it. Convenient. It was a frilly thing that kept blowing up in the wind. You'd laughed. He cursed your carefree nature and kept the bottom of your skirt down.

He'd fight the wind and anyone who dared to look. And the sly look you gave him told him you damn well knew that too.

"Hurry." You tug him into a slightly secluded area between bookshelves. He inhales the scent of books, instantly feeling his muscles relax.

"Jason, focus," you complain, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt and tugging him down until his breath hovers over your lips.

His eyes find yours.

You smile. "It'll be quick."

mdni , premature ejaculation , humiliation kink!jason .

jason shows up at your apartment looking like he stepped out of one of those cliché dark romance novels he pretends not to read, leather jacket slung over one shoulder, hair messy, scars peeking from the collar of his shirt. you’ve been seeing each other for weeks now—stolen kisses turning heated, hands wandering but never quite there.

tonight you finally drag him to your bed, convinced jason’s done this dance before. he talks a big game, after all.

“been thinking about this,” he mutters against your mouth as you pull him down on top of you, voice already rough. “fuck, you have no idea.”

clothes come off fast. he’s hard and thick and trembling just a little when you guide him between your legs. you wrap your hand around him, stroking a few times, and he hisses through his teeth, eyes squeezed shut like he’s concentrating hard—probably thinking of whatever isn’t how his tip’s right up against your cunt. “easy, princess. don’t—shit.”

you think it’s just the heat of the moment. you line him up and he pushes in slow, groaning low and broken as your walls squeeze around him. he wasn’t lying about being big, his size stretching you just right, and for a second it feels perfect. then his hips jerk once, twice, and he buries himself deep with a wrecked sound, coming hard before you even get a chance to adjust.

the silence hits for a moment. you feel the warm rush inside you and blink up at him. “jason… did you just—”

“shut up,” he grunts, face burning red under the scars, but he doesn’t pull out right away. he’s still half-hard, breathing like he ran across rooftops. “it’s been a minute, alright? don’t make it a thing.”

you start laughing, soft and playful, hooking your legs around his waist to keep him close. “a minute? jay, be honest. was that your first time? you lied to me, you cocky bastard.”

he tries to play it off, smirking even as embarrassment floods his cheeks. “what? no. i’ve done this. plenty. you’re just… really fucking tight, okay? caught me off guard.” his voice cracks a little on the last word and it only makes you grin wider.

“plenty, huh?” you tease, rolling your hips experimentally and feeling him twitch inside you. “could’ve fooled me with that two-pump chump performance. my big tough red hood, coming the second he gets it in. that’s adorable.”

jason groans, burying his face in your neck, but you feel him starting to harden again already. interesting. you press further, voice sweet and mean all at once. “aw, poor virgin boy. all that talk about ‘handling’ me and you blow your load before i even moan your name. how embarrassing.”

“fuck you,” he mutters, but there’s no heat in it. he lifts his head, green eyes dark and a little glassy, hips shifting like he just can’t fucking help it. “i’m not—okay, fine. maybe i haven’t. happy now? still gonna bust my balls about it or are you gonna let me make it up to you?”

you laugh again and squeeze around him on purpose. “oh i’m definitely busting your balls. look at you, getting hard again and all i’m doing is making fun of you. does the big bad vigilante have a little humiliation kink? that’s pathetic, todd. my virgin big mean boyfriend coming untouched basically.”

his breath hitches hard. fuck, your bullying’s getting him all riled up. he doesn’t know if he loves it or hates it. both. definitely both. “goddamn it, princess,” he rasps, voice gravel and shame and heat all mixed together. he rolls his hips experimentally, slower this time, hoping he won’t humiliate himself for a second time tonight. “keep running your mouth like that and i won’t last a second time either. you gonna keep bullying me or help me fix this?”

“both,” you say sweetly, dragging your nails down his back. “because it’s cute watching you try to act cocky while your dick’s betraying you. came so fast for me, baby. first time and you couldn’t even hold it together. how many times did you jerk off thinking about this and still fold instantly, hmm?”

jason curses under his breath, thrusting shallow and careful now, face flushed but eyes locked on yours with that stubborn defiance. “keep talking shit and i’ll make sure the second round actually lasts long enough to shut you up. virgin or not, i learn fast. and you,” he leans in, biting your shoulder lightly, “love having the big scary red hood embarrassed and leaking for you. don’t you?”

you do. and the way he’s getting harder with every teasing word tells you he loves it even more.

the grip he has on your hips seconds later tells you he’s about to redeem himself as best as he could. because he’s right, virgin or not, the guy learns fast.

Summary: Jason attempts to braid your hair.

Warnings: fluff, soft jason

“I thought you knew how to braid.” You look in the mirror.

“I do.”

“Really?” You turn your head to the side to check out the “braid” he attempted to do. “Cause that’s not how it’s supposed to look.”

Jason shrugs, grabbing the sides of your head and turning it back. “I’d do a lot better if you didn’t tease me.”

You scoff. “How is you being a bad braider my fault?”

“It just is.” He mutters, undoing the braid to restart again until it’s up to your standards. “Now shh.”

You smile at your boyfriend in the mirror. He’s got that determined look on his face that you love so much. The braid wasn’t that bad, but you just had to tease him. You wouldn’t be his very loving girlfriend if you didn’t.

“You could have kept it, Jay.” You say, watching his hands thread slowly through your hair, needing to perfect the braid for you.

“You said you hated it.”

Your brows rise at his lie. “Now you’re just putting words in my mouth.”

“I’d put a cookie in your mouth to get you to hush and let me focus.” He fires back softly, a small grin on his face as he is amused by his own joke.

You huff, slouching in your chair and letting Jason perfect his craft.

And about three minutes later, he’s done with the braid and turns your head to the side so you can get a glimpse of it.

He looks down at you, hopeful that you’ll like it.

It wasn’t perfect. Not at all. But because your boyfriend did it with pure love and admiration, it was perfect to you. A smile makes its way to your lips.

“It’s perfect.” You look up at him. “Thank you, Jay.”

His cheeks turn a light pink and he looks away to avoid your gaze. “You’re just saying that.”

You laugh softly and stand to your feet. You softly grab his face to force him to look at you. “No, I’m saying it because it’s perfect because you did it.”

He grins, arms coming around your waist and pulling you flush into him.

Your arms fly around his neck, gently pulling his face down towards yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Good, now give me a kiss.”

Exam season — J.T.

Paring: Jason Todd x fem!reader

Summary: Jason comes home late from patrol and finds you studying for your upcoming exam. (0.5k) (based on this request)

Tags/warnings: fluff, pre established relationship, use of pet names, it spiraled into something very self indulgent lol

A/N: English is not my first language and this was not proofread. Enjoy!

masterlist

"Doll, what are you doing? Babe?"

It's almost 3 am, and Jason's just now coming home from patrol. It was a busy night, and all he wanted to do was get in bed, wrap his arms around your sleeping form, and fall asleep surrounded by your scent and warmth.

What he didn't expect to see was you sitting at your desk, nose deep into an heavily highlighted textbook, and listening to- what the fuck are "gamma waves for focus"?

tags & content: established relationship, superficial injuries, kissing, making out, fluff, very minor nsfw mentions, gn reader

“There,” you beam, the corners of your eyes crinkling with a childish sort of joy as you finish smoothing the edges of the plaster over his nose. “All done.”

Jason’s eyes track you momentarily as you pull back, fingers tentatively tapping his nose to test the little plaster. Satisfied, he lets out an exhausted sigh, one you seem to feel in your own bones.

You don’t like seeing him like this; all bruised and battered after a long night with criminals, but you always looked forward to patching him up afterwards.

It was a strange, conflicting feeling.

You know if he was truly hurt, he would be with Leslie, or treating the wounds himself. These, you knew, were just superficial, easy for your inexperienced, lithe fingers to prod and poke without causing any major injuries.

Plus, looking at the plaster littered with ridiculous, cartoonish bears, you can’t help but let out a little giggle.

Jason immediately cracks one eye open, tilting his head towards you with a feigned look of irritation.

“What?” He grumbles. You know he’s tired, probably looking to catch some shut eye as soon as possible, but you can’t help yourself.

You lean your shoulder against the back of the sofa, pursing your lips in a futile attempt to hide your smile.

“Nothing,” you sing. Jason’s eyes pin you like a bug to a board for a few more seconds, letting out a huff of indignant air. He leans forward to the coffee table, despite the bruising on his ribs, reaching for his phone. The screen is spider-webbed with cracks, but it still works.

“Babe, what did you do—”

“Nothing!” You squeal, launching forward to pinch his wrists. You tug playfully, trying to get him to abandon the pursuit of his phone. “Really, it’s nothing—”

“Is my nose crooked?” He breathes, his lip quirking into a subtle little smirk. He lets you win the fight for just a second, before reaching with his other hand for the target. You yelp, sprawling forward into his lap to try and pin his arms under you.

“Your nose is fine!”

Jason lets out a defeated huff, sliding his arms out from under you. One immediately clings to the soft curve of your waist, turning you so you’re dislodged a little further onto the sofa. You twist, your hands catching his broad shoulders as your back settles against the soft cushions.

You weakly giggle, letting your fingers slide against the nape of his neck, delving into the soft, black hair there.

Jason leans fully over you like this, taking the opportunity to muzzle into the curve of your neck. Your breath hitches as he trails lazy kisses up the muscle, to your jaw, your cheek, and then the corner of your mouth.

“Seriously...” You mutter, not wanting him to replace the cuddly little plaster. His mouth presses over yours for a second before letting you speak. “There’s nothing—” Another kiss. “—on your...” Another, this one broken by you with a slight nudge. “...nose.”

Jason lets out a noise of fake irritation. His voice is low, vibrating your bones just right. “Are you still talking?”

You feel his fingers settle under the hem of your shirt, against your side, the other brushing through the locks of your hair. He leans onto his elbow, allowing him to slowly seal his lips over yours once more.

This time, you two stay there, soaking in each others warmth.

He moves first, his lips coaxing your own open, until you’re kissing him back with just as much passion. You sigh deeply against his mouth, lifting your leg to trail it slowly against his side.

His teeth give your bottom lip an impatient tug, and you part your lips further so his tongue has the room to sweep in. It’s wet, the parting and meeting of your lips between little breaths the only sound filling the drab little apartment.

Jason is heavy and warm against you, pressing right up against the front of your body.

While you’d be more than happy for him to sink his fingers into you, or for you to get him off, you can tell by the gentle, little strokes of his thumb against your hip that he’s too tired for that. That this is okay, and this is enough.

Dreamily, you rest your hands over the expanse of his back, feeling the relaxed muscles there as he minutely shifts over you.

His lips peel from yours for just a second, before he presses a gentler one over yours. His eyes flutter open alongside yours just to take you in, before he kisses you quicky for a final time, and rolls onto his side next to you.

The couch isn’t big enough for both of you, but you make it work with some aggressive wriggling. He tucks his chin over your head with a tired sigh, anchoring you right against his chest.

“It’s the plaster, isn’t it?” Jason rumbles, making you duck your chin.

“Don’t take it off,” you plead, nuzzling your forehead against his chest. “You look so cute.”

He sighs in annoyance, but you know it’s just a show.

“Fine,” he mutters, kissing the top of your head. “Whatever.”

jason todd has a habit.

several, actually.

a few centered around his family—he always sits or stands to the left of dick, always makes cass her plate, always brings dessert to gatherings because nobody can do it as well as he can.

a few about his work—he always starts on the south end of gotham and works toward the north, always cleans his guns an hour before patrol, always puts his right boot on before his left one.

then, he has several for you.

he always flicks your sky projector on fifteen minutes before you’re done getting ready for bed, he always lets you take a bite of food first before picking his fork up, he always lets you read the prologue of a book he’s considering purchasing.

but your personal favorite?

jason always lets you kiss him first.

he’ll lower his face to yours, keeping the space between the two of you until you lift your lips to slot against his. whenever he wants affection, he’ll draw closer, look at you with those utterly compelling eyes of his, and wait.

he waits until you respond—whether it be reciprocating his energy or not.

he doesn’t take from you. he loves whatever you give him, even if it’s merely eye contact.

even then, he’ll graciously accept it because it’s from you.

jason has a habit of waiting for you to kiss him first, not because he’s nervous or shy.

he waits because he knows what it’s like to have things taken, and he always wants you to have a choice.

‣ jason is the type to act annoyed when you steal his hoodies, but secretly loves seeing you wear them. every single time he catches you walking around in one of his oversized sweatshirts, he'll roll his eyes and tell you that you have your own clothes. the thing is, he never actually asks for them back. in fact, he'll intentionally leave his favorite hoodies draped over chairs or hanging by the door because he knows you'll take them. if you ever return one, he'll probably stare at it for a second and ask why you aren't wearing it anymore. ‣ he leaves his books everywhere. you swear he owns multiple bookshelves, but somehow every surface in the apartment ends up covered in novels. there'll be one on the kitchen counter, three on the coffee table, and another balanced on the arm of the couch. sometimes you'll pick one up to move it and find little sticky notes that have scribbled writing fall out of them. jason claims he's organized because he "knows where everything is," but you'll never understand how he manages to locate a specific book among the chaos. ‣ grocery shopping with him is dangerous. you'll enter the store with a perfectly reasonable shopping list and leave wondering how the bill doubled. jason somehow sneaks random snacks into the cart whenever you're distracted. you'll be comparing pasta brands, then look down and discover three different types of cookies and enough cereal to survive an apocalypse. the worst part is that he always acts innocent when you call him out, even though he's absolutely guilty.

Damian didn’t usually visit his brothers of his own free will. Most of the time, he only stopped by the apartment to grab a quick snack or pick up some accessory that might be useful to him.

But, surprisingly, on that day—on that perfect day—he had decided to be an inconvenience to Todd, simply because he had nothing better to do.

You were in the kitchen, finishing plating the dessert that would accompany one of your movie nights with Jason.

Used to your boyfriend’s entrances and exits through the window and balcony, you didn’t startle when you heard one of them being opened, continuing to hum absentmindedly.

It was only when you turned to wash your hands that you remembered a small detail—Jason was in the shower.

The humming slowly died in your throat.

You dried your hands calmly—much calmer than you actually felt—and turned your head toward the living room, just enough to peek through the doorway.

And there he was, sitting on the couch like he owned the place, legs crossed as he ate popcorn. He chewed slowly, eyes focused on the turned-off television, as if he were waiting for something to start.

He stopped the moment he noticed you.

You stopped the moment you noticed him.

For a long second, neither of you moved.

His green eyes narrowed slightly, calculating, suspicious. “…You are not Todd.”

You blinked once.

“No…” you answered slowly. “And you are definitely not Jay either.”

Jason found something in your stuff that made him mad. Now you gotta try and explain yourself.

A/n: heyyyyy 😅 I’m sorry it’s been a while. I’m not a huge fan of the misunderstanding trope, but I had a stroke of inspiration and wrote this in a sort of fugue state in the middle of the night, so I’m hoping it both makes sense and takes me out of my little writing rut.

cw: cursing, mentions of dicks and sex but no smut (I can’t write smut for the life of me lol). Also, I usually write for feminine readers and I try to keep their physical descriptions as vague as possible so everyone can enjoy, but I did have to make the reader wear a small for the purpose of the story, so I’m sorry 😔

I really appreciate you all, thank you for the support. Enjoyyyy 🫶🫶🫶🫶