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∗ synopsis. post patrol jason todd is desperate and banged up.
warnings. 18+. established relationship. jason todd x fem! reader. clingy jason. porn w/o plot. thigh riding. handjob. soft smut. (kinda all over the place…oops!)
jason comes in through the fire escape window instead of the front door like a normal person.
he tries to play it off, helmet already off, one hand braced against the window frame like he’s fine, totally fine, except he’s breathing wrong and there’s a cut above his eyebrow that hasn’t stopped bleeding.
“sit down,” you tell him.
“m’fine,” he says, but sits down immediately.
you get the first aid kit without being asked. pull up a chair in front of him and start with his face, cleaning the cut above his brow with steady hands while he watches you. he doesn’t flinch. just sits there and lets you work, jaw tight, eyes tracking your expression.
“stop looking at me like that,” he says.
“like what.”
“like you’re mad.”
“i’m not mad.” you press the butterfly strip down carefully. “i’m not mad at you.”
he doesn’t say anything to that.
you move down. his lip, split at the corner. his jaw, bruised deep and purple. you touch each thing gently and he takes it quietly, which is its own kind of alarming.
you get to his chest next, working the catches of his suit until it falls open. he shrugs it off his shoulders without being asked, leaving him in just his boxers, and you keep your face neutral. you do. but your hands still for just a second at the mess of him. bruises blooming across his ribs, a cut low on his side that’s dried but angry looking, the old scars underneath all of it.
you clean the cut without a word. he watches you frown at it.
his hand comes up and cups your face.
“hey,” he says quietly.
you look up.
“m’okay,” he murmurs, thumb brushing your cheek. “i’m right here.”
when you’re done you cap the antiseptic and sit back. he catches your wrist before you can move away.
he tugs you forward into his lap without asking, arms winding around your waist, and tucks his face into your chest. just. stays there. breathing you in.
you let your fingers move into his hair.
he’s heavy against you. the tension in him slowly, slowly starting to unwind. you can feel it in the way his shoulders drop by degrees, the grip around your waist loosening just slightly.
you card through his hair and say nothing.
after a while he turns his face up.
he kisses you soft at first. careful, like he’s relearning you, mouth moving gentle against yours. but then his hands tighten at your waist and he kisses you again, needier this time, a quiet urgency underneath it like he just needs to feel you. feel that you’re real. that you’re his.
you kiss him back.
his arms pull you closer.
“m’sorry,” he says. kisses you again. “i know i worry you so much.”
his hands slide down to your hips. he shifts you slightly on his lap, repositioning you until you’re sitting across his thigh, the thin fabric of your sleep shorts the only thing between you and his bare skin. you feel the muscle flex deliberately underneath you.
“jason—”
“please,” he murmurs against your mouth. “let me.”
quiet and earnest in a way he rarely lets himself be.
“you’re hurt,” you say.
“i know.” his hands squeeze your hips. “please, baby.”
you look at him. the cut above his brow, the bruised jaw, the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that’s going to settle him tonight.
“you don’t have to do that,” you say softly. “i’m not mad at you.”
“i know.” his forehead drops to yours. “please.”
so you give in.
you start to move and his thigh flexes under you, firm and deliberate, pressing up right where you need it through the thin cotton of your shorts. your breath catches.
his hands guide your hips into a slow rhythm, jaw tight, watching your face with dark eyes. every time you roll forward his thigh meets you and the friction pulls a soft sound out of you that he swallows with his mouth.
“that’s it,” he murmurs. “just like that.”
his ribs expand with a sharp breath when you shift your weight and he winces, barely, but you catch it.
“jason—”
“don’t stop,” he grits out. “please don’t stop.”
you don’t stop.
his hands keep guiding you, unhurried, and he just watches. eyes dark and focused entirely on your face, the way your mouth falls open, the way your fingers curl into his bare shoulders careful of the bruises. this is one of his favourite things, you know. watching you come undone. he’s told you before, low and honest in the dark, that he could do this for hours. just watch you. just this.
his expression right now confirms it. something reverent underneath all that heat.
you reach down between you and palm him through his boxers and he exhales sharp, hips stuttering up.
“hey—” his voice comes out rough.
“let me,” you say, echoing him back at himself.
his jaw works. he nods.
you slip your hand past the waistband and wrap around him properly and the sound he makes is low and punched out, head dropping forward onto your shoulder.
“fuck,” he exhales against your skin.
you keep moving on his thigh. keep stroking him. the dual rhythm finding itself naturally, your hips rolling forward while your hand works, and jason is coming apart underneath you in the quietest, most desperate way. no performance. just him, stripped back, hands gripping your hips like an anchor.
“feel good?” you murmur.
“yeah,” he says, barely voice at all. “yeah, so good.”
his thigh flexes deliberately under you and you gasp and his mouth finds your jaw, your throat, pressing open kisses wherever he can reach, sloppy and uncoordinated and so unlike his usual careful self.
“close,” you breathe.
“i know.” his hand slides from your hip, down, pressing over yours where you’re working him. not taking over. just feeling. “me too. come on.”
his thigh flexes one more time, firm and precise, and you tip over with a soft broken sound, forehead dropping to his shoulder. you feel him follow seconds later, shuddering, a low groan muffled into your hair, hands gripping you through it like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.
the room goes quiet.
he holds you there for a long time after. face buried in your neck, breathing slowing degree by degree.
vampire!jason who comes back from the dead with a thirst that can’t quite be quenched. he’s horrified with himself the first time he grabs a graveyard worker and drains him of his blood. his hands soaked in crimson, he falls on his ass in a panic, blinking and breathing hard.
vampire!jason whose first thought is to find you, his best friend. he’d had a crush on you, sure, but that was before he was kidnapped and killed in an explosion. before someone had coaxed him into drinking some red wine that he didn’t know was laced with vampire blood. before he had died with it in his system in that very same explosion.
vampire!jason who watches over you for the first day. shivering with a jacket he took from a clothing line, he watches you move throughout your day. noticing how the light had seemed to leave your life in the same way his had. watching you walk home by yourself through the shadows. watching your routine and yearning to touch your soft skin. he averted his gaze when you changed your clothes but he felt his desire growing stronger than it had ever been before he died.
from across the street he swore he could smell you, just faintly. shutting his eyes as his imagination peaked and the cold winds did nothing to soothe the deep heat he felt. the clothes you changed into draped over your body and he recognized the shirt as his own. with a heavy gulp he made his way closer without realizing it.
oh how he wanted and needed you dearly.
vampire!jason who comes into your home while you’re sleeping. he hasn’t seen you in over two years and when you wake up with him crowding over you, you scream at the top of your lungs. eyes wide in a panic as you thrash and he places a firm palm over your lips. his eyes shone a bright green and his lips were stained an unnatural red, still dripping down his chin. his eyes sunken in as he pleads with you despite having the upper hand.
“please help me,” he practically cries before inching closer. when you don’t move, he collapses onto your chest, letting his weight rest on you and burying his face there for comfort.
still reeling from your bestfriend coming back to life, you hold him there against you. hand smoothing back his tangled hair and a new tuft of white that took home on his bangs. you keep him close like he could leave you again.
vampire!jason who explains what happened vaguely because even he didn’t understand. he tells you he just woke up like this. that he’s sorry to scare you and clenches his fists like he’s afraid to see what he’d do if he touched you any more than he already was. afraid to move his hands.
vampire!jason who tries to fight the urge to sink his teeth into your plush neck, but he fails. his head moves from your chest to your shoulders, then his lips kiss your neck. you jolt in his grip and gasp his name, your body betraying you with how much you’d wanted this. never imagining that you’d get a chance with him since you never got to tell him you loved him. he takes a deep breath from the crook of your neck and moans.
“you smell exactly how i remember.” breath ghosting over your skin, “even better now.”
you gulp as his fingers curl around your neck and apologies begin to slip past his perfect lips.
“i’m so sorry. i need to. i have to do this.”
before you could question what he meant, the veins around his eyes suddenly become darker and your eyes widened again. he leaned further into you and breaks your skin with his teeth. the scream quickly dies in your throat as a stinging pleasure takes form. you gasp his name but hold him closer. thankful to have him back in any way.
vampire!jason who moans egregiously while he sucks your blood. the sound echoes from your throat, dancing by his ears while he continues cursing himself for feeling this way about you. you don’t miss how he inches himself closer to you, hands at either side of your head digging in and ripping the sheets. he mewls as he pulls from your neck, his mouth relentless against your skin. his eyes roll to the back of his head as he stuffed himself further ontop of you.
vampire!jason who begs you for forgiveness afterwards. on the verge of tears, he stares down at you and whimpers your name. he pulls your limp body upright in his lap and cradles your head close.
“fuck— i didn’t mean to take so much. i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry.”
but you’re smiling in a blissful state because it felt like you were staring at yourself from outside of your body. almost as if you were high from this. floating in a exhilarating way you hadn’t felt in a really long time.
vampire!jason who feeds you his blood while you’re half conscious. something told him this was the cure to him losing control and keeping you alive. in the back of his mind he knew he was teetering with life and death and that you were the only person he needed. the only person he thought of when he awoke. not bruce, not joker, but you. all he wanted was you and nothing could stand in his way now or ever again.
vampire!jason who doesn’t sleep until you gasp awake hours later. he holds a damp towel to your forehead and still has your dried blood on his face, not caring for it but only you. he sighs as you grab at him in confusion, pulling him closer to smell the tasteful nectar that no longer ran through your veins. the scent suddenly gaining appeal as you grasp as him.
you breathe his name back and ask him for some of it without truly understanding the implication. without a second thought, he keeps your gaze and bites at his wrist, holding it to your parted lips.
vampire!jason who thinks he could’ve came from the sight of you like this. his lips part and moan, watching your eyes glow a low red as you wrapped tight fingers around his wrist. a breathless gasp escapes him and a growing heat emerges.
“don’t do this with anyone else okay?” he suddenly says. “just with me.”
you’re too far gone to have register anything but the sweet warmth on your tongue.
vampire!jason who quickly understands the intimacy of this moment. he immediately sees how much of you he wanted and badly he needed you just like this. he held your head close, cradles you in his arms as he leaned against the headboard. his hips mindlessly bucking and stilling like he were holding back. he doesn’t stop you from taking what you wanted and he smiles throughout it all.
“if i had to die to have you,” his green eyes gleaming bright as they watch yours, “i’d do it all over again.”
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Hi, love your work! could you write about reader x jason todd, they've been dating for over a year now and jason hasnt told reader that he's red hood, and reader hasn't told that she gets information for a xyz mafia. One night reader is walking home and gets attacked, gets a head injury trauma which makes her temporarily forget about past year(and dating jason). Jason thinks reader was attacked because he's redhood but reader was attacked in the result of her own actions!
sorry it took so long for me to get to you lovie!! i love this req :3 hope you enjoy!!
just hold my hand
cw; mention of violence and blood, head trauma, hospitals, doctors, no description of reader, no use of y/n, secrets, lies, established relationship, amnesia, reader lowkey not trustworthy, angst, not proofread we die like jason todd
requests; open !
jason knew something was wrong the second you didn’t recognize his bike.
it was stupid, maybe. a tiny thing. but you had always teased him about it—the matte-black helmet with red accents, the engine that growled loud enough to wake half of crime alley, the little white scratch near the handlebar from when dick knocked it over two months ago.
you had laughed so hard you cried.
now you stood in the fluorescent hospital hallway staring at him like he was a stranger.
“i'm sorry, am i supposed to know you?”
the words hollowed him out.
jason forgot how to breathe.
the hospital lights buzzed overhead. somewhere down the corridor, a nurse called for a doctor. His helmet sat tucked under his arm, slick with rainwater and blood that wasn’t his. He had ridden through three red lights to get here after hearing the police scanner report: female victim, early twenties, assault, severe head trauma.
he had arrived as red hood first, then he saw your face.
“you seriously don’t remember me? this isnt funny,” he says your name like he needs you to remember how much he loves you.
your brow furrowed. there was gauze wrapped around your head, white against bruised skin. one eye was swollen. you looked exhausted and confused.
a little terrified.
“no,” you whispered. “should i?”
the doctor had called it retrograde amnesia. temporary, likely. trauma-induced memory loss centered around roughly the past year.
one year.
exactly how long you had been together.
jason sat beside your hospital bed later that night, elbows on his knees, hands clasped so tightly his knuckles hurt. You had fallen asleep twenty minutes earlier after another round of questions from doctors and police.
do you remember your address?
yes.
family?
yes.
occupation?
you hesitated.
jason noticed.
“freelance research,” you finally answered.
a lie smooth enough to pass.
that should’ve tipped him off immediately. instead, all he could think about was the fact you didn’t remember kissing him goodbye yesterday morning.
didn’t remember movie nights in his apartment.
didn’t remember falling asleep on his chest while he read.
didn’t remember him.
his throat burned, jason blamed himself instantly.
because of course he did.
this was Gotham. jason todd didn’t get to have normal relationships. didn’t get softness without consequences. eventually someone always figured it out. someone always used it against him.
you got attacked because of him.
because red hood had enemies.
because jason was stupid enough to love someone.
the guilt sat sharp and poisonous in his ribs.
so when bruce called, jason nearly ripped the phone in half.
“you need to calm down,” bruce had said.
“i am calm.”
“you tracked three different gangs in forty minutes.”
“and?”
“and put two men in intensive care.”
jason leaned against the hospital vending machine hard enough it rattled. “someone split their fucking skull open.”
“we don’t know if this is connected to red hood.”
jason laughed once, it was cold.
“please. don’t insult me.”
bruce went quiet for a moment.
jason closed his eyes and took a breath.
you woke up the next morning with jason asleep in the chair beside your bed.
he looked awful.
dark circles under his eyes. jacket stained with rainwater. one hand still loosely wrapped around the edge of your blanket like he fell asleep making sure you were there.
You watched him for a long moment.
he was handsome. in a rough sort of way. he looked peaceful as he slept. younger, too. he was familiar to you.
but your mind stayed frustratingly blank.
the movement of your blanket woke him instantly. his head snapped up, alert in half a second.
“you okay?” his voice was rough from exhaustion.
“yeah,” you said slowly. “..jason, right?”
Something flickered across his face, before he hid it behind a neutral expression.
pain. quick enough most people would miss it.
“yeah.”
“you’ve been here all night?”
“almost.”
“why?”
the question hit harder than you intended.
He leaned back slowly, studying you with those sharp blue eyes. like he was trying to figure out what version of you remained.
“because,” he said carefully, “we’re dating.”
your stomach dropped.
“oh.”
not disgust, not fear.
just shock.
a whole relationship erased from your mind like someone had taken scissors to film reel.
jason watched the realization settle over you and immediately looked away.
“you don’t have to force anything,” he muttered. “doc said memories might come back eventually.”
might.
the word made you feel sick.
you swallowed. “i’m sorry.”
his head snapped back toward you instantly.
“don’t apologize.”
“but—”
“you didn’t do anything wrong.”
except he looked furious anyway, but not at you. at himself, always himself
the first week after your release from the hospital was strange.
jason practically hovered.
you noticed it immediately.
he walked you home every night. checked locks twice. slept on your couch insisting he “wasn’t trying to pressure you.” constantly scanned crowds like he expected someone to jump out with a gun.
you didn’t know what kind of life he lived before this, but it clearly involved violence.
and secrets.
you had secrets too.
the problem was yours were beginning to come back before your memories did.
not everything.
encrypted messages.
dead drops.
names whispered in dark clubs.
the crystal mafia didn’t technically exist on paper. gotham liked to pretend they were a myth—information brokers buried beneath legitimate businesses and old money.
you worked for them.
information. schedules. patterns. political dirt.
and three days before your attack, you had stolen intel you absolutely were not supposed to touch.
you remembered that much suddenly while standing in your kitchen at 2 a.m.
the realization hit so hard you nearly dropped your glass.
oh fuck.
it wasn’t random.
someone had found out.
jason stirred awake on your couch at the sound.
“you okay?”
you looked at him.
at the man currently tearing himself apart believing your attack was his fault.
and guilt twisted viciously in your chest.
because it wasn’t. you almost told him right then. instead, you lied.
“just dizzy.”
he was beside you immediately.
careful hands on your waist. gentle despite how large he was.
“you should sit down, ma"
your breath caught. because even without the memories, your body remembered him.
trusted him instinctively.
jason seemed to notice too. his expression softened for half a second before the guilt returned.
“you don’t have to pretend around me,” he said quietly.
“i’m not pretending.”
“you don’t remember loving me.”
the bluntness stunned you.
he stepped back immediately after saying it, jaw tight like he regretted the honesty. but you saw it then, the fear.
jason thought he lost you already.
not physically, you were right there. he lost you emotionally. he lost the love he had become so comfortable in.
like the person he loved died in that alley and left this confused replacement behind.
and somehow that hurt you worse than the headache pounding behind your eyes.
the memories returned violently two weeks later.
not all at once.
in quick harsh flashes that left you dizzy.
jason kissing you against the kitchen counter.
laughing while he taught you how to clean a gun.
his hand gripping yours during thunderstorms because he thought you didn’t notice he hated lightning.
red helmet.
red hood.
you woke gasping.
jason burst into the bedroom instantly, gun already drawn on instinct before he saw you shaking.
“hey—hey, baby, what happened?”
you stared at him.
at the scar beneath his throat.
at the white streak in his hair.
at the man beneath the helmet.
“you’re red hood.”
silence.
cars drove by outside, police sirens, the hum of the air conditioner.
jason went still in a way that was almost frightening.
then slowly, carefully, he lowered the gun.
"i wish that wasnt the first thing you remembered." he said, lips pulling into a frown.
"it's not the first thing i remembered–"
his eyes narrowed instantly. “What does that mean?”
you looked away, that told him everything.
jason laughed once under his breath, but there was no amusement in it. only disbelief.
“jesus christ.”
“jason—”
“no, actually, this is great.” He ran a hand through his hair. “i’ve spent weeks looking people who might’ve hurt you because of me—”
“it wasn’t because of you.”
the room fell silent again.
and for the first time since the hospital, Jason looked genuinely angry.
not the way he looked with criminals, he looked hurt.
“you know who did it, dont you?" his voice was a knife.
you flinched.
“i was trying to protect you.”
“so was I.”
his voice cracked slightly.
because you understood the guilt eating him alive.
jason truly believed he destroyed your life and all this time, it had been your secrets dragging blood to your doorstep too.
neither of you spoke for a long moment.
then Jason sat heavily on the edge of the bed, rubbing a hand over his face.
“we’re really good at this whole honesty thing.”
despite everything, a tiny laugh escaped you.
jason looked up, a crinkle between his brows like you were insane.
there it was again—that familiar softness buried underneath all the sharp edges.
you did remember loving him.
you really never stopped.
"you know you have to tell me what happened now?" he said quietly.
"i'll tell you all my secrets. just hold my hand while i do."
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can’t stop thinking about messily making out with jason todd perhaps leading to smut?!
anon you're literally just another me fr 🙏🙏
patience
cw; NSFW MDNI!! making out, fingering (f receiving), fem!reader, no description of reader, no use of y/n, needy!jason, teasing, established relationship, he just really loves you
requests; open !
you and your boyfriend were lounging in bed. his head was laying on your stomach, as you had a book in your one hand, the other one combing through jason's hair. he was just resting, letting himself recharge after a long patrol, at peace in your proximity.
you feel him start to shift. his hands snuck under your loose t-shirt, travelling up your sides. you peek out from behind your book.
"jay? what are you doing?" you ask softly.
his soft, mossy green eyes flick up to you, his lips curling into a gentle smile.
"miss you, ma." he murmurs, kissing the skin where your shirt rode up from his hands.
"im right here." you raise a brow and go nack to your book, but not really focusing.
he kisses his way up your body, his big hands gently rubbing circles onto your waist.
"baby," he murmurs, "you're not paying attention." he nuzzles into your neck, placing sweet kisses along your jaw.
you hum, "i'm reading, jay. be patient."
he makes a discontented grunt and plucked the book from your hands, putting it onnyour side table, carefully bookmarking your page. you raise a brow at him, about to ask him if that's better, but he preemptively cuts you off with a kiss.
he kisses you like it was the last time he's ever get to. your hands slide into the soft short hair at the back of his neck.
he makes a satisfied hum when you tug lightly on the strands.
his tongue slides along your bottom lip, and then he teeth are tugging gently. he'd begging silently for you to let him in.
you let him struggle for a bit, listening to his small huffy whines, until your lips part and his tongue dives in.
he's tasting every part of your mouth, exploring with his tongue like he has a thousand times. he gets sloppier as he sucks on your tongue.
you can tell jason's getting worked up by the way his one hand stays by you head to hold him up, and the other is travelling over your whole body. it eventually slides under your shirt, and he makes a happy hum when he finds a lack of bra.
"you do this for me?" he purrs against your lips as he massages your tit like its his own stressball. his thumb drags across your nipple, sending a bolt of heat through you. he moved from your mouth down to your neck, leaving wet kisses and hickeys.
"jay–" you gasped, his mouth finding a sensitive spot behind your ear. you feel him smirk into your skin, and come back to lissing your lips. his wandering hand hand moved on to your thighs, sneaking between them.
he brushed over the fabric of your panties, finding a wet patch already. his fingers rubbed circles onto your clit over the cloth. you gasp into his mouth, tugging harder on his hair.
"fuck, baby. look at you. you're already so wet for me. i havent even touched you yet, sweetheart." he taunted you. you shot him a look, and he grinned. he pulled your panties aside, revealing your pussy to him. his pupils dialated like he was seeing his favourite meal on a silved platter.
jason teasingly dragged a finger along your slit, gathering your arousal on his finger.
"so pretty, ma." he murmured, bringing his finger to his mouth. he moaned as he tasted you. "always so sweet, pretty." his voice was low and heavy. he put the finger back, teasing your clit, before slipping inside. you made a small whimper, and he smirked. "yeah, baby? that good?" he bit his lip as he watched you closely. his finger curled, hitting that soft spongy spot, and you bucked your hips, trying to get *more*.
"shhh, patience, baby." he rumbled low and sexy in your ear.
"you'll get what you want. you made me be patient, didn't you?"
jason todd is always so gentle with words during sex. ¹⁸⁺
tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, kissing, cursing, fingering (f receiving), nipple play, soft dirty talk, gentle jason todd, he talks you through it, jay as his nickname, pet names. wc: 995.
masterlist
his safehouse was a place filled with shadows and steel—with the bedroom lit lowly, just by a single warm, shaded lamp on his bedside table, painting the room softly. not to mention the smell of gunpowder and his cologne lingering and making you dizzy.
and he was there.
tangled in sheets just above you, his skin hot and sizzling against yours, his lips leaving soft yet messy kisses in every place he could.
you’ve had sex with him, you’ve ridden this particular rodeo before—countless times, but tonight was different.
how the whole week has been dragging you down, stressing you out of your mind. it left you in here, this place where your body was thrumming with need, thoughts scrambling to its limits—yet it all disappears when you feel his touch.
you’ve tried it. to relieve the stress on your own, but it was all too loud that nothing worked anymore.
you needed him.
so there he was, hovering you on one elbow, with his big and calloused hand splayed possessively over your bare hip. squeezing it just the slightest.
“rough week?” he rasped out, thumb slowly brushing your skin as he kisses down your jaw.
you nodded then, already out of your mind when in this moment, all you could think about was him, him, him. how his skin glistens underneath the dim light due to a thin sheet of sweat, how his messy yet soft dark locks fall over his forehead so prettily, how his voice vibrates—thrumming low with need and adoration.
“let me take care of you, sweet girl. just listen to me, yeah?” his voice gentle, unlike the things you know he’ll be doing in the next few hours.
and you arched into his touch, breath catching as the hand on your hip began to dip lower and lower, till it reached and teased your inner thighs.
the gesture made you squirm, yet you let him take control over you. “i can’t– can’t get there lately… i think it’s the stress,” you pant as his fingers start to wander closer to your mound.
he smiled gently at your words. he was here to help and please you after all. “that’s why i’m here, baby. let’s start slow,” he said softly, his warm hand brushing up to your knee, parting them gently. “there you go. wide and open for me…”
you felt your body becoming weak and pliable with his words and caress, thighs opening on his command, as wide as he wants it—revealing your soaked and aching heat, glistening with your fluids.
he tutted. “already soaked for me… my good girl,” as his fingers slide up your folds to part them gently. his fingers traced up your clit next, circling it till you let out nothing but your sweet moans.
he kissed your cheeks, eyelids as your eyes fluttered close, lips. “deep breaths, sweetheart. tell me how it feels…”
“good–” you whimpered, your back starting to arch just the slightest bit. “so so good, jay…”
“i know… does it feel better if i do this–” as two of his thick fingers penetrated you, making you let out a quiet gasp from the feeling.
“and this?” you let out a cry as the pads of his fingers curled into the spots that made you see stars. your eyes rolling back beautifully, mouth parted as you let out mewls the moment he kept hitting the site again and again.
“mhm–!” you moaned. the heat creeping up inside you—burning you up like a furnace as your peak nears.
you let out another sharp cry the moment his thumb circled your clit—making your walls clamp down on his digits, his other free hand brushing your hair out of your face lovingly. “i can feel you squeezing me so tight, baby. i know you're feeling good.”
he kissed your face again, his hand lowering down till it reaches your soft breasts, squeezing them. “you’re doing so good… so good for me– fuck.”
his tone, the hitch on his breath—it was like he didn’t believe how much pleasure he’s feeling from pleasing you. his cock now hard and swollen, propped against your thigh. his tip leaking, making a damp spot on your skin.
right now, he didn’t even want anything. he didn’t want anything else, other than to make you reach it—the climax you’ve been longing for.
your hole throbbed around his fingers as his thumb brushed your peaked nipple. “atta girl. feel how you flutter? always so sensitive when i touch you, huh?” he rasped, doing the same with your other peak.
you can only nod pathetically. too caught up with the overwhelming enjoyment he’s giving.
and you almost broke when he began pumping his fingers faster, more deliberate, more with purpose. his thumb now brushes your clit relentlessly but still with precision, making that coil now climb faster.
and when your chest began heaving– “breathe through it. focus on me… on how my fingers feels inside you,” his voice soft, lips even softer the moment it touched your forehead.
you let out a shaky breath, legs starting to tremble, hips bucking almost hurriedly against his hand to chase your orgasm. “you’re close, huh? don’t hold it back.”
“come on, baby… come for me, i’ve got you,” he whispered against your ears. the hand that was teasing your nipples now strokes your hair gently again, coaxing you closer.
“i’m here. i’m here, baby,” and that was it for you. his encouraging, soothing words and tone coaxing your peak. walls pulsing tightly around his fingers, your cries spilling into the room as the waves hit you endlessly.
and he kept talking you through it, echoing words of encouragement till you rode your high. “that’s it– so fucking beautiful…” he groaned, before swallowing your whimpers with his lips, kissing you ever so tenderly.
and when he pulled away, he was there. eyes bright with worship.
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hiii, I love reading all of your Jason x reader, and I was wondering if I could get some general Jason Todd headcanons! Whether it be little quirks you think he has or even physical stuff! Anything works!
ouuu anon im so excited to share thesethank you for asking <3 lmk if you guys want more !
JASON TODD HC'S
🐞 jason sometimes uses a cane due to physical trauma from his death & revival
🐞 partially blind in his left eye and overly sensitive to light
🐞 suffers PTSD episodes of just freezing up and his whole body unable to move. obviously his PTSD is severe, but i see him dealing with it in his head to the point of disassociating.
🐞 has a problem with closed doors because of his mother's suicide and needs all his loved ones doors to be open even a crack for him
🐞 autopsy scar even though i know that bruce didnt preform an autopsy idc .. i also LOVE the J cheek scar. i wish it was used more often.
🐞 big crooked nose ugh he's so fine
🐞 beefy man. like. everything about him is absolutely HUGE
🐞 jason & his electric guitar against the world. im serious. imagine that man playing an electric guitar. mhm.
🐞 fastest reflexs ever. if you drop something, jay is there before it hits the floor. you tease him and compare him to edward cullen in the parking lot scene
🐞 all his social media accounts he made for you and they lowkey look like bot accounts. his users are shit like jt2889 or jay33. he doesnt post anything. he literally only lurks. but sometimes he'll comment something on your post.
🐞 i love the idea that he's a tinkerer. like he's always just making little contraptions and gadgets. he'll make little metal figures for you, whatever you want.
🐞 jason having giant hands that are also so nimble. he love detail oriented tasks.
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