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#Jason todd x reader
xobridgertonblues · 2 days
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smut is great but do you know what’s better? heart wrenching, soul twisting angst that makes you want to cry (take my money)
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hurkules · 3 days
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Domestic Life Thoughts…
Jason likes that you need him. He goes weak in the knees when you ask him to open containers because “the top must be stuck.” He can’t help but smile and give a gentle “of course, baby.”
He likes how you drape yourself over him throughout the day. He’s always touch starved, and it gives him butterflies to think that you want him as much as he does you. He doesn’t care to have personal space when it comes to you.
Whenever he gets the chance, Jason cooks for you. He looks up recipes to try out and beams when you compliment him. Whenever you bake, he eats it all in like 48 hours or less. “Sorry, baby” he’ll say placing a kiss on your cheek. “It was too good. I couldn’t resist.”
Sometimes, he has nightmares but waking up next to you is a life saver. Once he was confused and grabbed you wrist a little too hard leaving a bruise. He begged for forgiveness and banished himself to living room for a couple of days. Occasionally, he thinks about it, plants gentle kisses there, and gives a soft “so sorry, baby. It’ll never happen again.”
Jason never yells. Even if you’re arguing, he never raises his voice at you. You yelling literally doesn’t phase him in the slightest, and, to be honest, angry you is super cute and attractive to him. Despite this, he doesn’t act with the intent to upset you. Sometimes, he’s just a dick.
He’s such a loverboy. The two of you have weekly dates and he’s always bring you back chocolate and flowers. He’ll write poems and love notes and leave them on the night stand for you to find when you get home or wake up. He blushes when he finds little love notes you left in his bag and makes a mental note to thank you for it later. You put a cat sticker on his bike, and it’s his favorite thing. He added a heart sticker next to it because “you love cats, coincidentally, you’re kinda cat like, and I love you. It works out perfectly.”
It had been years since he celebrated his birthday, so when you decided to dedicate the day to him, he nearly cried. At the end of the night, you gave him a locket with pictures of the two of you and your cats. You had Eternal Sunshine engraved on the front because “This time with you have been the brightest and warmest days of my life.” At that point, he actually did cry. “You mean the world to me, baby” he told you through tears with his head buried in your neck. “I’d do anything for you. My heart’s always been yours. I swear it.”
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in-som-niyah · 2 days
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Floating thought:
Jason Todd eats like a fucking beast.
Like every time he's over at your apartment your fridge is miraculously empty?? AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN SEE HIM TAKE ANYTHING???
Now of course food is fucking expensive and he's not entirely an asshole (debatable) so he always buys you food or sends you money to do so when he's not around to cook for you.
But like it makes sense cuz look at him???
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LOOK AT THE CHONK
anyways i think he makes it up to you by absolutely fucking you senseless later.
strong arms caged around your body, holding himself to you so tight
yea.
that's the post.
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 days
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Would they or would they not catch you…
Dick: yes. 100% yes but he’s -no pun intended- a little bit of a teasing dick about it.
He will catch you but then act as though he’s going to drop you by loosening his grip, making you scream out of surprise and cling onto him tighter, all the while beaming that bright and beautiful smile of his as though he wasn’t about to willingly let you fall flat on your ass on multiple occasions.
‘I fucking hate you!’ You whined, smacking Dick on the bicep.
‘Oh do you now?’ Dick inquires as he slowly begins to losses his grip on you, smirking.
‘Did I say hate you? I meant love you, a lot! Please don’t drop me.’ You cried as you tightened your grip on his neck whilst struggling to keep your feet from touching the floor. ‘Awww I love you too gorgeous.’ Dick coos as he pressed kisses into your face as you could only glare at the cheeky bastard.
You hate him sometimes but you weren’t going to complain about the affection you were being given. So you guess you’ll suffer for now.
Side note: he might even try and see if you can catch him. 💀
Jason: He will catch you but makes it a big deal whenever he can. He loves holding you in his arms.
He could keep you in his arms forever if he could but knew that he can’t, so he settles for going about his day carrying you throughout the apartment instead.
‘You can put down any day now.’ You’d tell him but that only makes Jason tighten his grip on you as he moved in his makeshift library for a book to read.
‘No.’ He simply replied, scouring the many book titles in front of him in the hopes that one might speak to him. You pout. ‘What do you mean no?’ Jason then looks at you and says. ‘No means no. As in no I will not put you down because I do as I like and will not be told otherwise, so the cutie currently in my arms has to deal with it.’ He then smiles as he presses a kiss to your forehead before looking back towards the bookshelves.
You end up falling asleep in his arms and Jason couldn’t help but smile at how cute you were, even if you did look like the living dead.
Damian: says no but will in fact catch you without hesitation.
However if you do try to tease him about it, then he will drop you without a second thought. ‘You can catch yourself next time.’ He would say as he walks away, leaving you with a bruised ass. Titus -who saw the whole thing- would come up to you to make sure you weren’t genuinely hurt and encourage you to get up by nudging you with his head.
Don’t test him because he will do it and then act like the whole thing didn’t happen if you were to bring it up.
‘Dick.’ You’d say as you stood up.
‘I heard that.’ He’d call back, his voice echoing off the walls. ‘You were meant to.’ You reply. ‘And at least Titus came to check up on me to see if I wasn’t hurt.’ You’d add while scratching Titus behind the ear.
Needless to say you were more cautious when choosing Damian to catch you. However he does apologise for dropping you on your ass by gifting you something he himself drew by hand; He secretly doesn’t like it when you’re upset with him and will do anything to rectify it.
What a sweetheart.
Bruce: he’s too use to you pulling this type of shit that it’s basically muscle memory for him to catch you as you’re running towards him, all with a straight face mind you.
Be grateful because he risked a much needed bowl of Mulligatawny soup just to catch you in his arms, but then again the kisses you bombard his cheek is more than reward enough, a small almost missable smile appears on his lips as he then proceeds to carry you for the rest of the day as “punishment.”
( this only occurs when Bruce is feeling particularly affectionate or playful)
Much to your batkids -Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Duke, Cass and Steph- dismay. They’d want to use this as blackmail, but they know that it will backfire as you’ll probably hang the photo on a wall somewhere in the manor, reminding them of how disgustingly their parents can be when given the opportunity.
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chxrrydrxp · 2 days
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mdni
𝓫𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝓙𝓪𝓼𝓸𝓷..
who knows it could ruin the friendship, but at the moment doesn't give a fuck when his head is shoved between your thighs eating you out as if you were his last meal
best friend Jason who groans desperately into your pussy while your thighs almost choke him out as nasty sounds leave your lips and your hand grips his hair until his scalp burns.
best friend Jason who fucks you slowly against the wall, relishing in the breathy moans that flow from you to his ears. he's fueled by the desperate way you attempt to cling onto him for support and he slips himself deeper and deeper, tickling your cervix.
best friend Jason, who whimpers disgustingly explicit things in your ear after he feels you tighten your legs around his waist while he begins to pick up the pace (I RHYMED) filling the room with the wet sounds of sweaty skin colliding.
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Jason, surprisingly, isn’t the most quiet person during sex. To the point where you have to cover his mouth to quiet him down. It’s only a little pathetic.
-🧀
if y'all are interested i could drop some spicy audios that i associate with him o.o
firmly of the belief that jason is loud and sees no need to hide any noises from you, sex is incredibly intimate for you two and is based in a lot of trust so for the most part you can just laugh off any mistakes or mishaps.
any noise you can think of is coming from this man's mouth. he'll moan, whimper, whine, grunt, sigh, and even babble lovingly for you. "feel so good... so- so good" and "fuck, i love you... all of you" are both decent common
personally at least i like to believe that after especially intense orgasms he'll giggle a little and get a little bashful, practically going boneless against the bed or couch under him.
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Devil Sins
The Batfam and the deadly sin that colors their life, and the virtue of their darling
TW:  Yandere behavior (obsession, possessive behavior and unhealthy ideations), mention of suicide ideation and s/h as well as gore
Tags: Yandere! Batfam x reader
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Bruce Wayne: Pride    
Within Gotham, it's common knowledge that when crimes wretched hands come down to slit your neck you do not clasp your hands and pray to God, no - you whisper your tears into a puddle of blood and give your reverence to hold out for Batman. It is under no exaggeration that divinity in the cursed city leaves justice to crumbled bones and puddles of teeth and tongue, and its cruel master in the form of a man with no face. It's fitting, for a city of corruption and bile. Gotham’s god is its dark knight with steel for bones and scripture of flesh, man made Godhood with flawed creation in its wake. But man has never been meant to hold godhood, the pathway of immortals too cruel and demanding, even with those who have wielded its deadly blade of eons it rips into them. Tearing at seams and breaking into them until their pieces can be glorified in the stained windows of churches.     
Batman is divinity within mortal confines. There have been prayers and hymns in his name, retribution in his name and the painful dependency of creator and creation waged on him. Batman is an entity that is nothing but iron and brimstone, unbending and unfeeling, but Bruce Wayne, the man who created this creature whose only split from being a monster is a bloodied and beaten code, is painfully human. He feels each failure weigh on him, aging him past his own casket and decaying him even as he still breathes, it cradles his head during the night and whispers the screams of those he has watched fall.
Every time Batman stands tall, Bruce can feel something small and young turn decrepit and vile in his stomach until it erupts from him like bile from the back of his throat. He thinks it must be the humanity of a son who in truth, died with his parents in that alley. It slices his open, cutting his flesh to ribbons, and gorges itself on his organs only to fill him up with something inhuman. It's with bated breath with lungs that have been clouded with smog, that he waits for Batman to finally rule Bruce Wayne unfit and strangle him entirely.   
Darling: Humility
The Darling acts as the humility to his pride, dragging him to his knees so archaically Batman shrivels in your presence. You are his humanity given form, the antithesis to his claim of being the perfect hero. You lead him by the nose, walking him on a leash so flawlessly he thinks you might have been born just to keep him grounded. Every scrape or bruise seems to repel the mission Batman strives for and replaces it with nothing, but a man stricken that he hadn’t done better. Each burn or scrape, even a paper cut drives guilt into him and brings a physical ache to his body like you had beaten him with a bat. Each mark burns the shame of a failed hero and leaves only the pathetic begs and whines of a man that can only be human. 
If he could, he would spend his days by your side, affected by the intrinsic need to provide for you, leaving you physically and mentally unable and robbed of the ability to want. It's a desire that burns molten in his chest and drips down his limbs, it burns and aches at him as if trying to rip out of his chest and lick at your hand like a depraved dog. He would do anything for you, would render the world silent, bring you a heart on a platter, violate himself so terribly he could not know anything but his adoration of your presence and yet it still feels inadequate. A simple compliment from you leaves him bereft of ambition and scorn, leaving him on his hands clasped in prayer. 
Batman may have been his creation, but Bruce Wayne is your own tool, use him to get what you want, change him for your own needs just keep him at hand. He'll be loyally and wholly (obsessively and blindly, almost rabid) yours. God bends to nobody's will, but Bruce Wayne knows down to the electrons snapping in his synapse that his place in this world is by your side, whether you point, whenever you deem fit. You’re his god, and himself nothing but a faithful follower. 
Richard Grayson: Lust
Perhaps born from watching his parents, who should have been a constant, die in front of him a painful death filled with tourists' eyes and misplaced faith, right outside of his fingers grasps Dick has an inherent need to feel. For him, want runs in his skin like a conscious, whispering what he craves, giving voice to a voracity so impossible that it turns physical. He has known denial from the start, whether it be the blood of the man who stole his parents, a want that made his tongue ache and crawled at his ribs until his bones crackled, or the sweeter craving of a relationship, something that watered at his mouth. Want is something that has haunted him, growing obsessively until it reached lust.
Though sexual desire, of course, is something that is often attributed to it, it's not the only way lust presents itself. For Dick, it appears when he closes enough to reach out and feel flesh on his own, something tangible and it shocks him like a bad dog until he reaches out to soothe his skin. It appears in the dead of night when he can feel no other warmth than his blankets, even as he arches out and reaches pathetically into the air. It is a call of pathetic loneliness, so strong that when his younger brothers are cuddled drowning within him it is to try and get rid of the sudden echo, to try and merge them into one, until he is no longer Dick Grayson, and somehow a part of them. Somewhere in between the heat of a lover and the loyalty of a son, he realizes that being a part of a couple isn’t enough.
He wants like a man starved, all instinct and need, like a child who has been ripped out of his mother’s grasp before she has fed him fully, there is always something he’s not quite satisfied with. What he truly craves is a constant, a union, melting himself, and another so they can be poured into the same mold and make something new, indistinguishable from the other. And despite the carnal behavior of his want, he knows how to get it. He smiles full of charisma, grins with the sun and serenades with the moon to get his fixes, but each one leaves him starved, stricken for more. Like a bad addiction.
Darling: Chastity    
The darling brings a chastity in his life, though not to say he wants less, but in the way a husband will fully devote himself to their wife. It’s the deceptive nature of a couple announcing a pregnancy and accidentally alluding to nights spent in bed. The darling hits a spot for him that leaves him mind numbingly euphoric, like a high that is reached after weeks and weeks of suspension. Every kiss has him feral, no better than an animal and chasing after you, every negligence has him whining by your feet, clinging to you. He grows incredibly dependent on your presence, on your touch and everything beneath. 
With you his sharp mind bleeds into instinct, and the charisma he wields to pry himself into others good graces is left uselessly at the door. It’s a delusional dreamy trance, every hug sends him tumbling down further and further until his panting against your neck and thinking of nothing but you, you, you. He can feel himself slipping into your existence, swearing he can taste the coffee you drank in the morning, and can feel every cut or bruise you get without him present. His want for you is wet, sticky and binding, threatening to pull you over until you lose your mind along with him. 
It’s almost laughable how pliant he is with you, a touch to his arm can have him following you over a cliff, a peck to the cheek and suddenly his on your lap whining for more. For all he is hard and angry, full of vigilante fights and bruised skin you wouldn’t even have to hurt him to kill him. With you, he can indulge himself fully, so much so that he wants no other. In fact any other touch leaves him lacking, so utterly entranced by you that he can no longer feel another’s skin unless it’s yours.  To him, his darling and himself cannot be separated, they won’t go down in history but their names, but by the title for lovers. Nothing to define themselves but their own love. 
Jason Todd: Wrath
Anger, to Jason, is an old friend that lives in his bones and whispers in his ears with every movement. He has used it well his entire life, a melting anger of forged iron against his father to keep him defiant, a indigent anger filled with a son's tears for his mother, the roar of inequality and social class that steals from the batmobile and the blinding and rash rush that leaves him as robin. It’s at first a soft motivation that keeps him alive, any good street rat knows, or any street rat still breathing that to stop means you’re as good as dead. He covets his rage, it's youthful and idealistic and keeps his heart beating.
Of course, after the pit (after being beaten to death in a warehouse of gasoline and gunpowder, watching his own blood relax as he’s robbed of his own, coming back ripping from his own skin and drowned in green only to find out his father-father-had left him unavenged. Left him replaced and gone) his anger has grown into something primordial. Too old to be Jason’s but so familiar he leans into it. It grows from his bones like ivy and twigs, poking out against his flesh and sewing itself under his skin so that the slightest breach sends it out to take root.  Jason’s wrath is something that threatens to leave him choking blood, and yet it keeps him alive with the threat of keeping him running forever. It is the anger of a child on the poster who has never been found, and their stomach full of worms that burrows into his own. The tears of a case under the corrupt policeman’s file, and the ghosts scream in a house empty of their future. It’s all those who have ever been a statistic (as he has been) boiling over under his skin. Because Jason knows the wrath of the dead and unavenged intimately, it burns his memories in green and leaves his chest heaving with permanent mourning of mothers whose children were robbed and never found. It threatens to scratch away from the inside of his ribs until its nails finally rip him open in a mocking autopsy and wail into Gotham’s plugged ears.
Jason's violence, his actions and words, the bullets in his guns and glare under the hood are all reactions to this. As long as the world spins, as long as humans turn a blind eye to victims, and allow the injustice of the world to mold them, he will move. All his actions are an answer, a bullet through a man's cranium, the vengeance of a young girl with a ripped dress, a severed head, the relief of a child who watches their family bleed out for powdered death. Each and every shout of Red Hood, every puddle of blood he coats the ground on proof that he is still moving. Because Jason’s wrath is old and an answer, to the boy in the warehouse, to the boy in the ground and mounted not as a son but a soldier. It’s a solution to the fear that manipulates his chest that should he stop moving he’d be buried again. 
Darling: Patience
Jason is a man of action and violence, fear turned into anger because above all he is a man cursed with empathy. With his darling the fear that curdles his insides soothes, like a mother rubbing her child’s stomach and singing a special song to keep the pain away. The world will keep moving regardless of him taking a break, and he has the blinding panic of staying in time, and yet his darling is a perfect encapsulation of time. Something preserved beautifully, a painting stuck in motion, the words on his books that are remembered through words and tongue. The tint of red becomes a pastel pink, and suddenly he’s so, so weak.
With his darling he closes his eyes without fear of waking up decaying. A sweep of your hand against his cheek will pull a sigh of pleasure from his throat suddenly free of phlegm and blood, even a harsh hit will feel divine. His darling functions as a sort of “moment” , something trapped in time and solely for Jason. Much like opening a book, the story is forever clashing but the words stay all the same, waiting for the reader. It’s with you the anger that has kept him moving for so long, washed away, like the dirt clinging to his skin under water. It's freeing and leaves him shakily bare, with you he weeps, with you he grows and stays forever yours. You are life itself, something ancient and timeless at the same time. The nostalgia of losing a tooth and excitement of a birthday party wrapped into tender song and softer skin.  
It’s a common sight to see him cry when with you, prayer in the form of tears that are just for you. He spends his days in a lovestruck haze, almost as if he’s been drugged. For Jason there is no constant, no surety but you. He would do anything to keep you perfect, safe and just as you always are. He'll care for you much like a beloved heirloom, of course he loves you with a severance that would scare most, but you are something he seeks to preserve. Nothing can hurt you, will hurt you, you’ll remain untouched until you reach out yourself. Your presence alone is enough for him to intoxicate himself with, bask in forever. But should you give I’m a sliver of your attention, allow him to enter your perfect little world? He’ll be lost forever.
Tim Drake: Gluttony
The most intimate feeling Tim knows is hunger, perhaps not for food but for anything and everything else. Obsession is his most familiar form of companionship, stuffing picture after picture of his object of affection until he can drown in them. In his house of echoing walls and emptiness he comes to emulate it. He feels hollowness in his soul, some nights he wonders if he took a knife to his own side what he would find. Would it be organs? Perhaps a heart? Or would it be the void that has eaten all that made him and left him with a constant hunger to fill himself with? For a time, he manages to satiate himself with Batman and Robin, stalking and drinking them in over and over until one day it's stolen and left him with nausea so terrible. (And Tim still remembers the rawness of his skin as he is thrashing in his room, his throat bleeding from his wails of a boy he never met)
The more he gets the more he hungers, it’s something horrific and apathetic that leads him to chasing after his own fill. Case after case solved, fact after fact filtered and sorted through, Tim is insatiable. Like a well oiled machine, the fuel that keeps him going only works to find more fuel, it's a never-ending cycle of something that can no longer be deemed as human. Half of this can be attributed to the fact that it’s all the same to him, an angelic charity to a garish murder eh takes them and feasts on them all the sometime efficiency is more of a hook then anything, pulling others in so he can feast on them, devouring their mannerisms and habits, licking up and chewing on their thoughts until there nothing left of them. 
One could blame this on the fact that the identity of “Tim Drake'' has never really been sought out, so there’s no substance to him. Something useless will obviously stay shiny, clean and unused, it's logical in all the ways it makes Tim want to throw a tantrum. It drives his mouth to salivate until he’s drooling over another function he can consume, another person he can mirror, another morsel to disappear within himself. And yet with each new meal he can only feel the void echo back louder, as if he had never eaten at all. Like a fire consuming too much wood that it withers out in anger, as if the trees that had been cut never existed in the first place. It threatens to force Tim to disappear forever.
Darling: Temperance
The temperance his darling offers is in the form of a craving rather than actual fulfillment. After just his first taste of you, Tim has been enraptured for you, nothing comes close to your unique temperament, your reactions, everything that makes you, you. You leave his mouth watering for more, nothing else can settle against his tongue the way you can, nothing can mimic the way you fill his head with static and leave him filled to the brim. He takes whatever kindness you give him and uses it as an invitation to learn more about you, an invitation to bear himself fully. Any preference you have, a favorite color or show, even general food preference will settle into Tim as if it had been his all along. Where he used to drink black coffee, has grown a taste for your favorite creamer, your playlist will be playing in the back of his head as he switches through W.E. work, it’s all you, you, you. Like a puzzle finally coming together,
Tim’s brain finally quiets down and is forced to digest. Any sort of attention you give him is a five course meal, any scorn is just as quickly devoured. You don’t quite stop the habit of obsession, but you give it direction. Tim has never known such direct want until you, a den he has no plans to stop his indulgent habits. He is ravenous for anything you toss to him, your voice, a text, an opinion, even just a little note, whatever you do stays, It’s a blessing and a curse. Because while the hunger pangs back in your presence, now nothing else can even come close to keeping him occupied.
He’ll obsess over you, crafting himself to be your perfect companion just so he can stay by your side and continue feeding. Everything in your life has a shade of him, your job, your house, your hobbies, even your electronics, each one a special situation he created to have you just a bit closer. Nothing else can come close to you, he’ll make sure you're well taken care of, all he asks in return is you.
Damian Wayne: Envy
Damian’s life is a unique contradiction. He was born the sole inheritor of a Thorne he is meant to fight for, something only he can own and yet is so unworthy he is kept from it. It forces him into a sense of jealousy, inadequacy and egregious entitlement. He could have anything he needs, but only as long as he earns it, it gives him a longing sense of feeling everything is out of his reach. That even should he hold the sword in his hands it cannot be called his. Not in the way a dog can call its food their own, and not in the way a writer can crow over their own creation. It leaves him painfully envious of others, of their right to their own possession, it leaves him vicious and poisonous. Part of the reason he squirrels away animals with so much intent, is because they’d be “His.” He’s their sole owner, and as beings with a conscience they can prove their loyalty. 
His envy leaves him with harsh words and even deadlier scars, it forces him into a fine weapon and while it’s an ideal state for an heir it’s a broken state for a child. It leaves the boy wanting, fearful and anxious. His envy is young and childish, something not allowed, and it’s something weaponized. It’s part of the reason he defends the title of robin so freckly, not only because he believes himself right, but because it’s his in way the throne cannot be. Because it’s not a legacy he’s supposed to take, it's one he steals from himself. It’s his, in a way nothing has been since he first cried from the pit.
But even then, the title of partner that so many others have worn, cannot soothe the constant ire, the lashing out that comes with fear of being replaceable, of being nothing but a role, comes with. Because Damian has been born as his mother’s son, as his father's legacy, but not as his own person. It makes Damian feel unfit, unusable in the way he has seen his mother discard students who cannot kill. It burns him, kills him and with time he thinks he might just be a husk. Damian is nothing but competency and a perfect successor, a successor will never be their own.
Darling: Kindness
Ironically the kindness that tempers his own envy is not his own but instead, actions of his own darlings. He fully gives himself to you, gives you his very purpose to do what you want with. Should you order him to kill, order him to die, or to live he would do it without complaint. Tell him you want his heart and he will pry himself open and hand it over with a smile, tell him you want his laugh, and he will laugh himself manic until you tire of it. He is a fine blade, a weapon that has seen battle far too much already, and it’s your own kindness that stops it from going to battle. In essence Damian has made himself a role right by you, but has given up his autonomy of your manipulation. You’ve become his master, his owner and his loyal weapon.
Every action is your doing, every remark is for your benefit, and by giving himself to you, he can have you in a way nobody else can claim. Every smile, every hug, every word that you speak to him is something unique from a dynamic he has hand crafted, and therefore uniquely his own. He will store you away from others, wary of letting them stain you, and even more wary of letting them steal you. You’re his, his love, his heart, his blood, his purpose on this earth, and he cannot let another’s touch deter you from this. His darling is a salve to his aches, a bandage that wraps tight enough to manage to hold him together, and his actions are that with the purpose of binding you to him. Your purpose will be each other.
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Author's Note: Another reupload! Previously known as lovesick-laboratories.
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bizbat · 1 day
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can you PLEASE write jason coming to you instead of anyone else. like i need that sooo bad please :)))
p.s i love your writing soo much. youre so talented, i am constantly giggling as i read
Always You . . .
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~ You can find more of my works here.
~ This took forever omg, but yesterday I got food poisoning so I finally got some time to write this. Not my proudest work but wtv.
Above all else, he'll always come to you.
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Contrary to popular belief, Jason Todd can be gentle. You've seen it, in the way he slowly flips through whatever book he's reading so you can read it over his shoulder, or how his fingers softly caress your thigh when you're seated beside him as if you're made of glass, or in the warm way he smiles whenever Damian says something the reminds him he's a child.
He's gentle now too, his head resting in your lap, his shirt torn and soaked in what's now dried blood. You can barely keep your eyes open, but you promised you'd watch over him while he slept, just in case something went wrong and he choked on his own blood or vomit.
You had that same nausea when he first came to your apartment at five in the morning, the bile rising in your throat at the smell of metal and the sight of blood gushing out of his gaping-
Just remembering is enough to keep you awake.
It . . . hurts, for many reasons, knowing that he puts his own life in danger for people he doesn't even know. You don't know why he does it, all you know is that for the next week and a half, he'll take a break to let his stitches heal at least a little bit. It's never enough, though. He'll crawl back to you in a few weeks, a sheepish smile on his face and his stitches popped open.
You'll roll your eyes but you always fix them for him. It's become a routine. Not one you're exactly fond of, but a routine nonetheless. It gives you something to look forward to. Sometimes it doesn't feel fair. The fact that he's always on the brink of death when you see him, that he's always covered in scars and wounds and gashes, and above all that, the fact that he only seems to come to you to sew a bullet hole shut or wrap a broken arm.
It does get exhausting, but who are you to complain. At least he trusts you, that's what you tell yourself. He comes to you because you're the only person he lets get that close to him these days, because you're the only person who won't chew his ear off. All things you've told yourself. He comes to you because maybe, possibly, potentially, somewhere deep deep inside, he loves you. That's your favorite excuse.
"You're really pretty, have I ever told you that?" You're so deep in thought you don't even realize those deep cerulean blue eyes are now studying your contemplative expression. When you calm your beating heart you turn your gaze back to his. "I thought you were sleeping?" "I was," He wraps his arm back around your waist, holding himself closer to you. "But you were tuggin' on my hair."
You hadn't even realized you'd been running your fingers through his hair until he pointed it out, though at some point in your thoughts it seems your hands had begun twisting around the raven locs. Upon said realization you immediately pull your hand away, only for him to reach out and pull it right back. "I didn't mind it that much doll." His smirk is enough to clear your mind.
He slowly rises from his position, moving to sit beside you, resting most of his weight on your shoulder with a groan. His hand reaches to his side, where a particularly nasty gash resided, thankfully sewn shut by you. Once the pain subsides he moves his hand to check your handy work. "Not bad, not bad at all." He turns that stupid smile back to you and it fries your brain. "Getting better and better every time."
It does make you smile. You weren't always so good at fixing him up. He'd come in almost every night needing you to patch him back up. It took awhile for you to be able to get him back in shape so fast. "Jay," A long while, actually. "I . . . I've been wondering?" You slowly proposition him. "Yeah? About what?" He is genuinely curious, and he knows that look on your face. He sits up, taking his weight off of you and resting against the arm of the couch.
"Just-nevermind, actually. It's stupid." You hold your hands in your lap. "It's not." He hates when you do that. When you shut yourself down before he even gets a chance to answer. "Ask me, I won't be mad." He leans in closer, his hand on your knee, and he strokes it how he always does. It takes a second to gain back your confidence. "Why-why do you always come to me when you're hurt? I just mean wouldn't it be better to go to Bruce, or Alfred, or I don't know, a doctor?"
The only thing worse than his smile is his laugh. Like an icy breeze on a hot summer's day, or a dark cold wave crashing down on a yellow beach. It warms your heart and makes you feel stupid for asking in the first place, all at the same time. "Why would I go to any of them? I like you." He likes you!!! You were right!!! "Because I'm not a professional. I can barely give you stitches, I don't know what I'd do if you were-if you," The quiver in your voice breaks his heart.
He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. "You don't need to worry about that. It's never gonna happen," He grabs your chin between his forefinger and his thumb and brings your gaze to his. "You take care of me, too much for me to be risky about that." You think you believe him, especially when he presses a kiss to your lips. Though you've tasted it a thousand times, you still wince at the taste of blood still clinging to his chapped lips.
He laughs when you grimace. "Sorry," He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He's quiet for a bit after that, silent as he holds you. Before too long he speaks again, breaking the, admittedly, uncomfortable silence. "I . . . I dunno why I always come to you. I guess I just . . . like it here. I like you." He's not looking at you when he says it, but you know he's being honest, and knowing him, he's understating.
It's enough for you, at least until next time. You relax into his body, satisfied. "I like you too Jaybird. I like you a lot."
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420ruffy · 12 hours
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his favorite ways to make you cum ,, character insert x afab reader
a/n: i’m halfway through writing this and i’ve realized that you can actually just insert any character of your liking while reading this bc it’s not specific to the character i had in mind when i first started..
eating you out
his favorite sexual activity for sure. not only does he love giving you head and seeing you feel good because of him but it’s relaxing to him. when he’s tired or sad he’ll always crawl in between your legs and start kissing and licking and nibbling on your stomach around your bellybutton and your thighs, coating them in love bruises.
it’s also extremely arousing to him. he loves hearing all the noises you make, and them getting louder and messier and more embarrassing (as you claim) the closer you get to your orgasm. he can’t help but grind his hips into the mattress, moaning into your pussy, the added vibrations making you groan.
he is always so focused on the task and gets lost in your big pussy lips lapping and sucking at them and your puffy clit as if it’s his favorite hobby (it is). his arms are usually always both snaked around your lower half to keep you in place and so he has easier access and can shove his tongue as deep into your cunt as possible. except for if he’s fingering you additionally to licking your clit ofc. then his right hand will be buried deep in your pussy, desperately grazing your g-spot while sucking on your clit until you start rutting your hips against his face and your grip on his hair becomes tighter. oh how he loves it when you tug on his hair while you’re changing his name when you’re cumming..
handjobs
he likes them almost as much as you do. he (especially loves how you go about asking for one though) loves it when you sit in his lap, crossing your legs behind his back and hugging him tight for a few minutes, with your head buried in his neck, kissing it and sucking light bruises into his skin before your kisses and sucks move up to his ear and earlobe. and then his jawline. until your kisses finally reach his lips and he’s too impatient to wait for you any longer so he just immediately licks into your mouth making both of you moan at the feeling of each others soft tongue. you kept moaning and trying to keep up with his aggressive licks but your mind wasn’t ready for it yet so you had to pull back. he chuckled. he knew what question was about to escape your lips. you stayed close to him and started kissing your way back to his neck and ear, nuzzling into him. “can you give me a handjob?” you’d ask sucking on the skin below his ear. you couldn’t see but he was smirking. he chuckled lightly. as if he could ever deny you that.
he picked you up in one swift motion and walked to the bedroom with you throwing you on the bed as soon as you reached it. oh how he loved the look on your face every time he does this. you looked about ready to jump him.
“pants off, pretty.” he would demand before positioning himself behind you and starting to kiss your neck and jawline. he would start slow and grope you aggressively while sucking bruises into your skin. the foreplay was part of why you loved handjobs so much. you just couldn’t get enough of his hands on your body.
by the time he would finally bring his hand down to your clit, after whining and silently begging him to touch you already, you were already wet from the foddling and kissing.
and all the praise and dirty talk that was possible in this position was heavenly. his lips were practically sealed to your ear shell constantly praising you and grunting and moaning in your ear because he knows how much you love it and how much it gets you off.
he loved holding you down with his free arm whenever you’d start chanting his name and wiggling indicating that you were close or already cuming.
mating press
missionary is the basic sex position for a reason. it was just so easy to handle someone this way. the look on your face and the sounds you made every time he’d put your legs up on his shoulder and start drilling into you was so arousing to him.
he didn’t care about how “messy and chaotic and embarrassing” you thought you sounded. that’s part of what was so arousing. the fact that he’s making you feel so good you don’t know what to say or what sound to make and don’t even try to tame yourself and instead just let the sounds escape your lips was so hot to him, he wanted to cum right there.
dickriding
oh how he loved making you cum when you were the one on top. he loved bottoming or subbing and seeing you take control of him and the situation. but he also likes messing with you and he would do anything to hear all the messy embarrassing sounds you make when he drills up into you from below.
the way your eyes would roll back and your moms would become more animalistic at the sudden fast pace was one of his favorite sights to see.
and when it became too much for you and you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore so you’d collapse on top of him and put your arms around him, he would smirk to himself. being able to hold you tight while ramming up into you as fast as possible to make both of you cum while hearing you moan and breathe into his ear was too arousing.
this was originally supposed to be about jason todd (no one’s surprised) but i can also see: hal jordan, dick grayson, roy harper, wally west, toji, nanami, gojo, sae, aiku, karasu, otoya, katakuri, sanji, zoro, shanks, semi eita, atsumu, iwaizumi, tartaglia/childe, itto, laxus dreyar, sting eucliffe, gray, jellal, gajeel, natsu
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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 18 hours
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When I tell you I cannot WAIT to hear readers reaction to the stunt Bruce pulled. I’d be rolling up with some words to say and punches to throw
"Bruce," Dick cautioned, "don't start a fight."
"Hn."
"They have kids," Dick reminded. And Jason- well. It wasn't Jason that worried him when it came to the kids. It was you. Now that he'd had a little time to do some digging of his own, he could understand your appeal to Jason. A young, pretty single mom? A convoluted adoption story? Strong enough to do it alone but vulnerable enough to trip all his protective instincts.
"Hn."
"And dogs. Couple big ones," Dick hummed. Though the enthusiastic boxer and the aging wolfhound wouldn't be much of an issue, he didn't think.
Bruce nodded and looked towards the house. Through the kitchen window, he could see his son. Phone pinned between his ear and his shoulder. Flipping bits of diced meat to the dogs as he worked on putting... whatever it was into the crock pot. He looked... content. Relaxed. If a little out of place.
It was clear that the decorations and paint were... your taste. And that they hadn't been updated. Pale pink walls and mint curtains and appliances... It made his hulk of a son look like he was playing in a doll house.
"Quit being creepy and start your apology tour," Dick sighed. "You can do me next-"
"I just wanted proof he wasn't-"
"You're the one that told him to leave. Again," Dick snapped. "So he did. And now he has a wife. And kids. And probably another kid on the way. When the fuck is he supposed to cause trouble?"
Bruce looked back to the window and watched Jason sit in a kitchen chair. Shooing the wolfhound's head off the table. Only to groan when the dog just started to try and crawl into his lap.
"When-"
"His wife closes shop at 5pm," Dick said. "Kids get home at 3:45. You have an hour and a half if you want to get him alone."
"Hn."
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ur-fav-lucia · 3 days
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Some of my favorite Jason Todd moments from WFA pt. 2 :)
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I’m in love with him your honor
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killakalx · 14 hours
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↳ ageless/blank blogs dnf
18+ content, triple threat, pussy eating, minor mention of spit (dg), fingering (dg & jt), 69 position (rh), every dc man is a munch because i said so, argue with the wall
❦ Dick Grayson, who folds you over yourself and holds your legs wide open when he eats you out. he starts slow, almost calculated as he talks about how nasty you are, spelling his name out before each flick of his tongue over your clit. hot and labored breaths are huffed against your lips as he picks up the pace, tongue dipping deep into your cunt and a guttural groan makes you gasp. he feels you clench on his tongue and it’s taken as a signal, dangerously long fingers suddenly curling up into your pussy and making you whimper above him. you’re pleading for more, he assumes, harsh tugs on his hair making him moan deep into your core and driving you over the edge.
still, his fingers speed up while your cum leaks around them and against his palm. he pulls his mouth away, covered in slick and drool with a nasty grin on his face, all for you to see- or just so he can see the desperate look on your face as you twitch for and beg for a break. he fixes his angle and you cry out, whining at the faux sympathy in his voice. it’s alright, sweetheart- i know. jus’ feels too good, yeah? a thick glob of spit lands on your clit and you’re so fucking wet, it’s as if he only did it for the sentiment- just to start circling and sucking at the sensitive bud until you’re damn near crying.
❦ Jason Todd, who locks your thighs around his head and muffled himself as his fingers dig into your hips. he’s practically consumed by your supple and savory skin, biting and sucking dark hickeys into your inner thigh before returning to your weeping cunt. the way he uses his mouth is obscene, making sure you hear the loud squelch and lewd slurps every time he dips his head deeper into your pussy. his fat tongue laps from your hole all the way to your clit before he sucks, letting out a deep and muffled laugh between your legs when you mewl. jason moves his hand to prod thick fingers at your entrance, forcing you to buck into his face and getting him deeper inside.
the way you chant his name- jay… jay- jason, oh fuck- it fuels his ego, and you can feel the wicked grin against your skin. he can tell you’re close now, and he only encourages you until your moans turn long and drawn out, burying his face in your pussy with a few weak thrusts. his gravely voice hums against you, fuck, gorgeous- all f’me, huh? yeahhh, all for me. you’ve got him humping the mattress like a fucking teenager with the way you keen for him, but he’s set on making you cum over and over on his tongue. he pays no mind to your hand pushing him away, pulling his fingers away from you pussy and locking you right back up with his bare hands.
❦ Roy Harper, who moans into your cunt before you’re even properly positioned to suck him off, situating you right on top of his face so he can grope your ass. the enthusiasm makes you buckle over and giggle, pulling out a whine from his throat. you finally give him some needed attention, sucking at his tip and rubbing pre-cum down his shaft. it pushes him further into you as he groans, hugging your whole body closer to his face and chest. it’s an endless cycle: your mouth wrapped beautifully around his cock, leaving stray saliva and lipgloss around the base, only leading to desperate moans vibrating all the way up your spine as he bucks into the back of your throat; in turn, you whimper and gag, hands holding onto his thighs to ground yourself. the room is filled with all types of debauched noises and it only turns him on more- god, he needs to hear more.
he doesn’t let up, even when you resort to stroking his dick to give yourself breath, lurching over and keening about how close you are. the arch in your back, the way you grind into his face- it’s got him determined. give it to me, doll- cmon, lemme get a taste of this pretty pussy. you can’t even deny him, ruining his face with a loud moan along the base. your pleasure feeds directly into his, and he’s cursing between your pussy lips as ropes of cum cover his pelvis and your hand. you’re dripping down his face when he lifts you up a tad, but he only takes a few moments to catch his breath before he’s pulling you back down on his face. he just needs you wailing and creaming all over his face one more time.
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umbransister · 3 days
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Him in his AK suit just does something to me...
(it just works...)
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igotanidea · 24 hours
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Strain: Jason Todd x reader
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A/N: nsfw themes. Not explicit but still, so I'd rather put MDNI here.
***
Every touch every move every stroke had only one single purpose.
To bring her pleasure.
And judging by the soft moans and gasps of delight he was doing quite a good job at it.
"Mmh...Jay..." she whimpered.
"Like that, princess?" He made his voice deeper only to tease her more.
"Yes, please... So good, don't stop..."
"I won't" he leaned to plant a string of soft kisses on her delicate and exposed neck. In return she gripped the sheets, her body responding to the caresses and rocking it's been subjected to. And Jason couldn't help but grin from complacency.
At this point he was becoming rougher, compressing her body like something that belonged to him, that only he knew how to handle and worship in the right way.
How to make her satisfied.
"You're so responsive and I love it..." he gasped pawing her skin and every curve.
"Cause your working in all the right places..." she whined her voice a little muffled from the fact that her face was buried in the pillow. "Though I believe you're getting too excited..."
"Yeah, you're still so tense Princess."
"Yeah it's been a heavy week..."
"Don't worry, we'll get rid of that in no time... Just forget that and relax with me..."
His hands moved lower on her body, getting more curious, wandering in all the right places as he kept moving. What was even more exciting, was that she couldn't see him, as she was lying on her belly. It made all the situation even more bone-deep cause as she was focusing solely on the touch and not other senses.
"Oh yes...."
"Here?" He pressed on that one spot and she moaned in acknowledgement. "Guess it's here then..." He smirked while continuing his attack on the new found place.
"Shit!" She whined arching her back a little "it hurts!"
"I know baby but trust me you'll feel better in a moment..."
For a few good minutes the silence in the room were being torn only by the groans and rustling of the sheets and after then a deep sigh of relaxation made Jason aware he finally reached his goal.
With a signature smirk he pulled back and laid next to her side searching for her eyes.
"Feeling better sunshine?"
"Much better, thank you. Dare I ask where you learned all that things?"
"Self education." He grinned
"Oh really?"
"Yeah, see those muscles?" Jason pointed at his chest and body "they did not come from nothing. And with all the soreness i had to deal with throughout I had to learn a thing or two about anatomy. Guess it came handy tonight huh?"
"I'll be sure to use your sevices more in the future."
"Sure thing princess" he kissed her forehead affectionately "I'll get you a regular customer discount."
"Tease!" she nudged his shoulder.
"Hey!" his reaction was immediate and took a form of grabbing her wrist "behave princess, you know my massages are good for your health and posture, you have no contrargument to that."
"Ok, fine! fine! They are. But unless you want me to use someone else's services you'd better accept payment for kisses."
Jason groaned in frustration.
She always knew how to take away any words of objection from him.
So what else could he do rather than accept his fate, nod his head and enojy the little smooches all over his face in the form of thanks for his professional rub down?
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 days
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How high on the clingy/protective scale these boys are …
Dick: a solid 8.5/10.
A very clingy bean.
Dick would be attached to your hip 24/7 if he could but he couldn’t answer that makes him sad.
In the wise words of @obsessedwithromance on one of my recent posts; ‘if Dick was a dog, he’d be a husky.’
And he’d make a very vocal husky at that with how often he whines and whinges whenever you tried to move from his grasp, acting as though every attempt in removing yourself from his arms were an attack against his character. So he will take personal offence to you wanting to leave him out in the cold and desolate place that was your bedroom. 💀
‘Stop trying to get out of my arms.’ He moans, tightening his hold on you as he buried his head into your neck, locking legs with you for extra measure. ‘Dick, I love you but you’re being too clingy for me right now.’ You reply and had just noticed the error of your ways almost immediately and were about to explain yourself but it was already too late, for you had set Dick the human husky off.
‘Me? Clingy? I thought you liked it when I was clingy? Why the sudden change? What did I do wrong? Why don’t you love me?’ Dick began his tirade and you could only lay there and let him talk your ear off -and loudly might I add- about how you apparently didn’t love him enough, which was a bunch of bullshit, but dick was too in his feelings to listen to reason. You’ll have to kiss him to shut him up, there’s no other option.
So once he’s settled down, he’ll go back to cuddling against your back,smiling dopily while you could only congratulate for a job well done at defusing the situation form getting any worse. You love your dramatic human husky and you wouldn’t change anything for anyone.
Jason: 7.5/10 or a 8/10.
The only time you’re seeing this man be clingy as all hell if he’s in a particular mood and want your affection, which might as well be all the time with this man, or after a not so great nightmare.
He would wake up in a cold sweat and immediately look for you and hold you against his chest as though you were his personal teddy bear, only just until his breathing evens out and not so tense in the muscles. Until then he holds onto you tightly and familiarises himself with you in anyway that he could, whether that be counting your eyelashes, noting the different shades that make up your eyes and much more.
At least just enough to help him gain some sense of self and awareness that he was safe and sound from all harm.
Like Jaime, Jason would watch over you like a hawk as Red Hood without a shadow of a doubt, and Jason has his reasons to do so as he knows the type of people who litter the streets of Gotham at night like the back of his hand. He doesn’t want to subject you to that sort of life of constant fear of having to look over your shoulder in hopes that there wasn’t someone following you home.
For in his minds eye, he’s your sole protector and the one thing that stands between the scumbags of the street and you. Jason doesn’t take this position he’s given himself lightly, it’s unlike him to anyway, as your safety is his top priority and he’d do anything to obtain it; whether they way it’s obtained was morally questionable or not, he doesn’t care for as long as your safe, he’ll live to learn with having permanent blood on his hands.
Damian: 5/10 on a good day. 2/10 in general.
He’s not an overly clingy person. Protective? yes. Clingy? No. It’s just not in just nature and he can be very awkward going about it too.
Damian knows he doesn’t have to constantly survey you 24/7, he has more faith in you and your abilities then most. He knows that you won’t call upon him if at all when faced with a situation that you could easily resolve yourself.
However if you were to get hurt on his watch or otherwise, that’s when he gets slightly clingy and will attempt to be within any space with you possible. Damian shows care in a completely different way than most and will more or less act like a guard dog when it came to you.
This little dude will point his sword at anyone that comes into close contact with you while glaring at them, meanwhile you’re having to push the blade of his sword down and away from the poor victim, only for Damian to raise his sword back towards their throat once more.
‘Pack it in.’ You’d hiss.
‘No. You’re practically useless when hurt, so let me deal with this one.’ Damian said.
You purposely ignored the fact that he had just called you useless and instead pushed the blade of his sword down until it was pointing at the floor again. ‘He’s not even a threat, just a regular citizen. So you can stop it with the fear attics now.’ You told him in a hushed tone. Damian meets your eyes with a glare of his own. ‘How you can be certain he’s a harmless civilian? What if he’s a low life thug of an underground drug syndicate on the rise? You can’t allow yourself to trust every face you meet.’ He replies, not one to back down for anyone, not even you.
You sigh as you rubbed the sides of your head. ‘Well at least try not to cause more issue for your dad. I swear between you, Jason, Tim and Dick I don’t know who gives him the most grey hairs.’
Jaime: runner up for Dick’s crown with also a 8.5/10
He’s clingy in a sense that he fears of loosing you constantly.
Khaji-Da doesn’t make the situation any better as it only encourages Jaime’s Innate clinginess tenfold, and now Jaime can’t go a couple of minutes without offering to join you on wherever your going.
He just cares about you very deeply and wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he’d ever lost you despite having the ability to stop any harm from coming your way. So needless to say that you spend most of your time with him and his family is a severe understatement.
It’s not as though he doesn’t trust you, he wholeheartedly does, but that trust doesn’t extend to potential outside threats. Hell, he would even go as far as to watch over you as Blue Beatle, much to the behest of literally everyone that isn’t Khaji-Da because the scarab is just as clingy over you in a sense that you were Jaime’s mate and there for should be within close proximity to him at all times.
It’s endearing but I think it’s about time you told Kahji-Da to cool it on the whole threatening people you talked to with plans to eliminate them…
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chxrrydrxp · 2 days
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Okay feel free to ignore this but honeymoon with Jay AHHH just imagine, a gorgeous and romantic trip... just imagine all the love and good sex
my baby Jason neeeeeds to see the ocean it HAS to be an island honeymoon
because of his childhood prior to Bruce, I'm sure he didn't go on luscious vacations to tropical islands with coconuts and clear blue water
so hear me out, he's already in the best mood he could be in while he's on a honeymoon with you. he's smiling ear to ear, and his deep eyes are filled with a childlike curiosity that warms your heart. he's in such a good mood which results in the kind of sex that is so underrated. the LAUGHING kind. the sweet giggling, and the breathy little whispers as his hips rock into yours. the sun going down as you relish in this beautiful moment together, praying it never ends. the beautiful morning sex, with y'all clumsily fumbling with each other in white satin sheets as the sun comes up.
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