yes i’m writing this on my phone don’t question my ways
uhhh MDNI! i reblog and write 18+ content so yes! obviously i can’t control what you do but this is a fair warning.
i am very very VERY multifandom, but my writing is jason todd heavy! my fandoms include but are not limited to:
DC (mostly batfam centered), Sonic the Hedgehog, Criminal Minds, A:TLA, The Owl House, Sasaki to Miyano, Hirano to Kagiura, Genshin Impact, PJO/HOO, maybe Harry Potter if I’m in a mood, Gravity Falls, The Good Place, Inside Job, Adventure Time, Hermitcraft, 3rd Life/Life Series, Spy X Family, TGCF, Given, Cherry Magic, and more!
PLEASE ASK TO BE MUTUALS. I LOVE MOOTS.
i may or may not call mooties or anons pet names because I’m midwestern and it’s just a Thing about me so if you Do Not like that, just say so!!!
asks are always open!!! I LOVE ASKS!! SEND THEM DO NOT BE AFRAID!!! if you ask for mostly anything from that fandom list, i’ll probably write it, even if it’s just a drabble! i’ll do certain ships and also xreader, just specify which :)
i also have a reblog account, @solreblogsstuff! that’s just for if you also enjoy these things and would like to see the inner workings of my neurodivergent mind.
aroacespec. i like to think of him as demisexual and demiromantic, but honestly anything aroace fits for him #tome
bisexual!! he knows what he likes and he likes all!! not necessarily gender blind, he does have feelings about how one’s gender affects their relationship dynamic, but he doesn’t necessarily care what that gender is, yk?
he totally has body dysmorphia/dysphoria, but he’s not sure if it’s gender related or because he died two apples tall and came back and double wide fridge.
just. he gives “low-key non-binary but i got a job”
he’s probably genderqueer in some fashion but he’s got shit to do he can deal with that later
fem!jason todd is insecure about her body ╱ mdni, talks about body hair, oral sex, fingering ˚.✦
You don’t like to bother her when she’s reading, especially before bed. It’s her little ritual, the one thing that helps her wind down and sleep nicely. But tonight you’re needier than ever. It’s been a whole month since the last time you two really touched each other, and you miss your girlfriend so badly it hurts. You miss her tongue, her soft moans, and especially that pretty, puffy cunt of hers.
“Babe,” you whisper carefully, scooting closer until your head rests on her shoulder. “Baby…”
“Yes, love?” Jay answers, still not lifting her eyes from the book as she turns another page.
“I miss you,” you say, hoping she’ll catch what you really mean. Your fingers trace slow lines along her bare arm while you press tiny kisses to her shoulder.
“I’m right here.”
She sets the book down slowly. “Oh… you miss me like that.”
You nod, already sliding your hand under the hem of her oversized sleep shirt. Your palm finds the warm skin of her thigh and squeezes. “Yeah. Been thinking about you all day.”
Jay bites her lip, the shy little habit she has when she’s feeling exposed. She shifts on the bed and you can tell something’s on her mind. You tilt your head, thumb stroking her cheek.
“Is there something wrong, baby?”
She hesitates, cheeks turning pink. Her voice comes out small and insecure. “Lately I’ve just… I've been feeling really weird about my boobs. They feel too big sometimes, like they’re in the way or… I don’t know. And I haven’t shaved in a while down there. It’s all grown out and messy. I feel gross.”
Your heart squeezes at how vulnerable she sounds. You lean in and kiss her softly, then pull back just enough to look into her eyes with a filthy little smile.
“Jay… oh my god, you’re perfect. Your tits are fucking gorgeous, so soft and heavy. I love how they spill out of my hands when I grab them. And as for not shaving?” You let your voice drop lower, rougher, because the thought alone makes you clench. “I prefer you unshaved. I love it when your pussy’s all natural like that. Makes you look so fucking filthy and real. Turns me on like crazy.”
Her breath catches, eyes widening a little. “You… you do?”
“Mhm.” You slide your hand higher, fingers brushing the soft curls between her legs. She’s already a little wet, you coat yourself in her slick before bringing your fingers to your mouth. “Lemme have a real taste? Please?”
“O-okay… You don’t have to go all the way if you don’t want t–”
“Oh, shut up.”
You push her gently onto her back and crawl between her thighs, spreading them wide. Jay’s breathing is already faster, her hands gripping the sheets like she’s nervous but excited. You hook your fingers in her panties and slide them down slowly, revealing that pretty puffy cunt covered in dark, soft hair. It’s messy and so fucking hot you can barely think straight.
“Look at you,” you murmur, voice thick with want. You lean in and press a slow, open-mouthed kiss right on her mound, inhaling loudly her warm scent.
“Don’t do that! Why did you smell me?” She looked terrified for being this wet.
“Jaybabe, I fucking love your smell. I think you know that,” you mention, looking up at her and arching your eyebrows. She remembers all the times she comes back from the gym and you insist on sniffing her armpits and pussy, or how many times she’s caught you touching yourself with her used panties in your nose.
She lets out a shaky whimper when you part her lips with your thumbs, exposing the slick pink inside. You don’t rush. You eat her out nice and slow, savoring every drop of her. Your tongue drags lazily through her folds, licking up her wetness mixed with that natural hair. You suck gently on her clit, then dip lower to push your tongue inside her, tasting her deep while her soft bush tickles your nose.
Jay’s hips twitch, her fingers threading into your hair. “Oh god… it feels so good… you really like it like this?”
You pull back just enough to answer, lips shiny with her juices. “Love it. Love how wet and sloppy you get. Fuck and your tits… babe, please...” You don’t finish the phrase because you can’t help the urge to go back to her cunt, lapping between her folds to hear her whimpers.
“W-what? What were ya ahh gonna say?” Jay manages to say, head dropping to the pillow when you suck on her clit just how she likes it.
“Spill your tits for me, yeah? The view is already pretty from down here but I missed them too,” you pout a little, resting your cheek on her thigh.
“You’re such a–” She gets interrupted by you taking a bite out of her thigh. “Ow! Alright, alright. There ya go, you bastard.”
You smile dumbly at the view, they don’t even fit in your hand. Light pink nipples already hard, big areolas and heavy, perfect to fidget while you play with her pussy. You pinch her nipples just the way she likes, she’s moaning louder now, thighs trembling around your head as you keep savoring her, licking and sucking like you could do this for hours.
“Sososo pretty,” you mutter, voice muffled and wet. You use your finger to tease her entrance, drawing circles but not pushing inside.
“B-babe, please! Nghh, s’good… too good ah!” Jay is talking nonsense at this point, toes curling every time you graze her sweet spot, feeling the vibration of your lips when you talk.
“Can’t believe you feel insecure about this gorgeous pussy and your pretty tits…” you say as you finally push inside two fingers so easily. “They’re so pretty and ugh! Wish you’d let me ride those tits.”
The whole idea, mixed with your fingers reaching her cervix and your voice teasing her clit makes her cum too fast. She tries to muffle her loud moans with the back of her hand, you don’t let her, obviously. You want to hear every last sound your girlfriend wants to make.
“So hot,” you whisper, crawling up, leaving a kiss in her mound before attacking her boobs with marks. “Gonna suck them dry.”
When she finally recovers her breath and a little of her dignity, Jay mutters, not even looking at you: “You… you can ride my tits if you want.”
“Huh?” Your head snaps up to her, eyes glistening. “For real?”
“Uh, we can try. If you want… I’m down if you are.”
You practically jump her, straddling her lap before taking her face between your hands and kissing all over it. “Have I told ya how much I love you. It’s so dumb how gone I am for you.”
i think it goes without saying but is still worth noting, my beef with booktok literature is 100% about the quality. i LOVE housewives reading weird porn. i wish they would do it more
I will always take the cat's side. "she's drooling on me" you're so lucky "he always wants to be petted" then pet him "he's mad I won't let him on my desk" make room on your desk for him. I am your cat's defense lawyer and the cat is always innocent on the grounds of them being A Little Kitty Cat.
the shit you do to make a dying phone work when you dont wanna buy a new phone is amazing. my phone no longer charges unless i plug and unplug the charger exactly ten times & then flip the charger around then it works. I dont want to say i have to fuck the port a little bit first but i have to fuck the port a little bit first
part two to this. jason todd x afab!reader (no pronouns). smut 18+ only! sex pollen, desperate repressed guilty jason (shock! surprise!), size kink, dacryphilia, handcuffs, hyperspermia, breeding kink, sub jason, unprotected sex. jason's sick! of course you have to help him.... :)
****
"Jason?"
You take a careful step forward. Jason's hunched over in front of his couch. Slowly, you close the door behind you and set the container of soup on the doorside table. You wrack your brain for next steps: if Jason's injured, you have to figure out where and how severely. Your heart leaps to your throat. Is it a bullet? Does Jason need immediate medical attention?
You take another step forward.
"Don't." Jason's voice is ragged. He stands straight, spine rolling up one vertebrae at a time. "Don't come closer, please."
You try to find his gaze, but Jason covers his face. That's when you see the wet spot at the crotch of his tac pants. He's also hard if the bulge behind the stain suggests anything.
"Couldn't stop it," he says miserably. "Tried everything. Ignored it all day. Please go. Fuck, 'm so sorry, sucha fuckin' creep—"
"Jason," you say, hushed and kind. "It's okay. Hey, it's fine. Pollen?"
He nods, and he looks quite pathetic, standing there with his arms uselessly at his sides, huge cock heavy in his jeans, the zipper stretching from the weight of it. It's always been a passing thought, how much bigger Jason is than you. You have to look up to meet his gaze, and he can move you around easily. Not that he ever touches you; if he does, it's only in an emergency.
It's a little frustrating actually, the way Jason has to complicate everything. This could be so simple if he let it. Let you.
Jason would run for the hills if you pulled down your underwear and rubbed your wet folds against his crotch, like a cat in heat. But his skittish behavior hasn't stopped you from thinking about getting bent over the arm of his couch, one thick forearm wrapped around your belly as Jason pushes into you, hot mouth on your neck. You'd love nothing more.
But this isn't about you or what you want. This is about Jason and how he's, yes, technically sick. His eyes are bright with fever, a flush traveling down his neck and probably spreading across his chest. You know he was working last night—has he been pollened for a day? Pushing through it, ignoring every sign that something was wrong?
"Can I touch you?" you ask, keeping your voice quiet and light, like you're approaching a wild animal.
Jason shakes his head. "No. 'F you do, I'll–I'm gonna—"
Cum. The realization is like a bolt of lightning to your brain. That's what happened not five minutes ago: you felt Jason's forehead for fever, and he's so desperate, body taut like a too-tight violin string, that the slightest touch tipped his body over the edge. And it wasn't enough. Jason came and stayed hard. He's probably been leaking all day, his cock and balls painfully swollen, demanding he tend to his base urges.
You've never seen Jason physically intimate with anyone; you can’t even imagine him jacking off, though you know he must do it. Under the covers, maybe. No—in the shower. Where he could wash it all away as quickly as possible. Your brain goes fuzzy thinking about Jason's huge palm wrapped around his dick, desperately stroking himself until he comes, catching himself with a hand against the shower tiles. Does he have to do it twice for relief? Three times? Does the pleasure overtake him, make him stupid and noisy?
You could do that. Jason's a hair-trigger away from creaming his jeans again. You imagine doing it over and over until his hair is a mess, cheeks blotchy and red, and he's whining, unable to form words.
"I can help," you say gently, like you're being a charitable friend.
Not the truth, which is that this is making you easy and wet, and if Jason wanted to push into you, it'd be like pressing a thumb to the skin of an overripe peach. He'd find little resistance, and you'd gush around him, tight and pulsing. Jason would feel your heartbeat in your cunt as you grew wetter and softer around him, messily sucking him in. And when he came, it'd spill out of you, preparing you for when he'd inevitably have to go again.
"No," Jason says again—the only word he knows. "I can't—'s wrong, don't wanna make you uncomfortable." He sounds wrecked, pleasure and guilt overwhelming him. He wants you, you know that, and he's angry at himself for wanting you like this. No shield to his desires, no self-control. But Jason has only ever been self-controlled. And you've been wishing for months for a crack in that control.
"Jason," you say, lilting and melodious, like a siren song. "Oh, honey, it's okay. Really. I want to. You're sick. You can't fix it alone. Let me help."
"I dunno if I can control myself." He looks at you finally, fear-stricken. "I don't wanna be out of control. You gotta have the upper hand."
You frown. "Jay, sweetie, I trust you. Honestly, I think it'll be okay—"
He shakes his head violently. "No. No, don’t. 'S wrong, all of this is wrong. Just go. I'll wait it out." He grits his teeth, like he can defeat his body out of sheer willpower.
But even more than your desire is your inability to see Jason hurt. Especially if you can fix it. Most of the time, you can't do anything. You aren't strong or skilled enough to go out at night with him, and you aren’t much of a nurse. All you do is bring him food, call him and tell him you were thinking about him, rub your clit and dream about his weight pressing you into the mattress, his cock emptying into you.
This time, you can do something.
You lick your lips, choosing your next sentence carefully. "Maybe there's something that'll make you feel safer. What if I stay on top? Or you keep your hands behind you? Or—"
"Cuff me." The direction is a rasp. "There's some in my bag."
You hesitate. "Jason, you can touch me. I really don't m—"
"Please." His chest heaves. "'S the only way I'll feel okay 'bout this. 'F I know I can't touch you, that this won't happen the way I planned, and you won't get hurt, I can do it."
You press your lips together, debating. You can't work through Jason's guilt and repression in an evening. And the pollen is burning through him; you suspect that it won't release until he cums inside of you.
"Okay," you say. "Do you want to go to your room?"
"No." He sits on the floor against the couch. "Here's fine. 'S what I..."
What I deserve, he doesn't say. You don't comment, instead going to his duffel bag to fetch the cuffs. They're at the bottom and you take them out.
"Key's on the side."
You take the little key out and set it on the coffee table. Then you pause, the open cuffs in your hand. Jason licks his lips and slides down, so he's lying on the floor. His hands go up to the leg of the couch. You understand immediately and fit the cuffs around his wrists, locking them so he's secured around the couch leg.
Your fingers graze the inside of his wrist and he whimpers.
"Too tight?" you ask.
"No, fine," he says breathlessly. He shifts, biceps on full display at this angle. "Don't unlock me till the pollen's gone. Even if I beg, d-don't."
Whatever thread of control Jason still has will disappear once you seriously make the effort to cycle the pollen out of his system. You know how it works; Jason's warned you against it a million times. Yet it's him that's here now, powerless and needy.
You pet his cheek. He grunts.
"Please," he whispers, and you nod.
"I know, Jay. I know, honey."
You pull off your shirt. He squirms, hips bucking.
"Sorry," he says, ashamed.
He looks away as you fully undress, tossing your clothes aside. You're naked and unselfconscious as you crawl onto him. You work on his jeans zipper and pop the button. Jason lifts his hips so you can pull his jeans down. His gray briefs are even darker than his jeans—Jason's presumably either came or leaked pre-cum for hours.
You thumb the bulge, which is a little cruel, but the sound Jason makes is worth it. He keens like a dog, trying to arch and move away from your hand simultaneously, like it's too much and not enough. The cuffs rattle against the couch leg.
"Oh God, fuck," he says, and cums again. You feel the warmth bloom under your fingers, the sticky patch getting stickier. His erection doesn't flag a bit; it's like nothing happened.
If you were meaner, you might work him to insanity this way. The curiosity of how many times Jason can cum without getting soft burns in you, but you know that he's being extremely vulnerable, and you don't want to take advantage.
Still, the urge lingers...
"Sorry, baby," you say, and kiss the corner of his mouth. A little more cum gushes from his cock from that. You feel yourself getting wetter. "I'll get to it now. One second."
Your tits rest against his chest as you wiggle his briefs off. And there's his cock, the product of nearly twelve straight hours of arousal. It's dark red, almost purple, the veins plump. His hair is matted with cum, balls drooping heavily at the base.
He'd be so good for breeding, comes the unbidden thought. It's like everything else Jason does is a distraction; why does he run around Gotham, using his body to fight, to take a beating, to protect, when it should be against yours, pumping you with his cum?
"You're so full, huh?" you say, letting his cock drag against the front of your pussy. The head catches on your clit and you both whine. "Fat, leaky dick with a full load. Do you get like this thinking about me?"
Maybe you're meaner than you thought. You're gluttonous, eyes lasered in on Jason's reaction. His face screws up, embarrassed but helpless to how his cock tightens in warning at the question. Why are you asking? Don't you understand that he's tried so hard not to let you see him like this? Jason's a soldier first, a weapon, a tank. His body is good for bruises, not bites.
"Jason," you say in the voice that can make him do anything. "Tell me, honey."
"Y-yeah, yes," he says, the corners of his eyes wet. "But I control it. 'S not a lot, I swear. I can control it."
"Oh, yeah, I know you can," you say, soothing like a balm. "You're so good. I like you so much, Jay. I've been waiting for ages for you to do something about it. You treat me so well. Why didn't you tell me sooner? Poor baby, so hard you're crying."
He shakes his head weakly. "N-not, not cr—"
You swipe a thumb under his eye, collecting a stray tear. You suck it clean, salt hitting your tongue. "No? I can taste it. That's okay, pretty. Pretty boy, just wanna grab at you every time you stop by. You're so strong, so capable. It's okay now, Jay. I'll help."
You look behind you so you can take his cock in hand, positioning it so he slides home. Jason wails as he lands inside of you, and he thrusts as soon as he's deep enough. He doesn't stop, and you watch his thighs flex, sinewy muscle and fat cushioning you as he fucks you.
"That's it, baby, there you go," you say, cunt tightening around him.
You can't resist it either. Jason's cock fills you so well, almost too much, but in a good way. You feel him in your belly, and you crook your knee up so you get him even deeper. Now his thrusts alight the muscles in your hips, your legs, your stomach with pleasure.
You ruck his shirt up so you can grope his stomach, digging your nails into the fat and pressing until you feel muscle.
"Oh, fuck, fuck," Jason says, back arching from the floor. "Fuck, oh my God, I can't stop, I can't—"
"Don't stop," you order, holding him by his shoulders. You lean in, so your nipple is in front of his mouth. "Will sucking my tits help? Make you cum faster?"
Jason has his mouth on you as a reply, latching onto your breast and sucking. He bites down gently and you moan, grabbing your tit and squeezing so he can get more of it in his mouth. His tongue laves the flesh, hips never stuttering in their rhythm.
Hot cum fills your pussy, almost immediately dripping down your thighs, it's so much. But Jason doesn't stop. He doesn't soften either.
"Oh my God," you say in awe, looking at where your bodies are joined, where Jason's cock slides in and out of you rapidly. "Fuck, baby, you're gonna knock me up. You can't help it. I saw your dick months ago. Just for a moment, saw it swinging, with your huge balls. Couldn't stop thinking about it after that. Touched myself thinking about you mounting me like a dog, big and stupid, fucking me till it stuck. And now it's gonna stick, whether you want it to or not."
Jason cries out, pulling against the cuffs so hard the couch moves and squeaks against the floor. A mix of apprehension and excitement strikes you—can Jason break the cuffs? Probably not... but what if he did? What if he proved just how much at his mercy you really are? What if no amount of reassurances or restraints could stop him in this state? If Jason wants to grab you, pick you up and fuck you with your face to the floor, hand on the back of your neck, maybe there's nothing you can do to stop it.
Your eyes flutter at the thought. You hardly need to put in effort to ride him—Jason's fucking you just fine even without his hands. You kiss his neck, biting down hard, and Jason moans, loud and long.
"Oh fuck, 'm sorry," he says, slurring his words. "I'll finish soon, I swear. Sorry, sorry—"
You rub your clit while he babbles apologies. You're close, and you want to cum before Jason finally gets soft. You ignore his sloppy thrusts and the way the cuffs clink.
"I'm gonna cum," you say, bracing yourself with a hand on his chest. "Stop apologizing so I can fucking cum, Jay."
"'Kay," he says, nodding fervently. "Yeah, please cum, want you t'feel good—"
Your pleasure peaks, clawing up your back. Your nipples are so hard they ache, and your whole body pulses as you orgasm, your pussy gripping Jason like a lifeline.
He instantly follows you, and this time, he cums for much longer, filling you almost uncomfortably so. It leaks out of you, spilling onto Jason's thighs and the floor beneath. He's frozen while he cums, eyes clenched tight as his body finds the relief it's needed for hours.
"Oh," he says, blinking through more tears. The sudden change between animalistic hunger and cool, controlled relief must be whiplash.
Jason swallows hard and looks at you. You curl up against him, letting his softened cock fall out of you. Absently, you rub his still-clothed chest with your knuckles.
"See?" you say, not looking at him. "Was that so hard?"
sorry for dying guys. this isn’t a revival but i’m having thoughts
jason who wants to please you at any cost, so he decides to fulfill that popular fantasy—getting fucked stupid by a masked villain. of course, he runs it by you first, gets your full consent and sets up a proper scene.
and it goes great, for a little bit. you’re tied up and squirming and begging for something, though you’re not sure what for. and he just wants his mouth on you so damn bad.
your pre, your cum, your hole. he loves it all. he especially loves eating you out and licking the sweat off your thighs after, then kissing you senseless. but, obviously, there’s an issue. the issue being the solid red helmet.
he hadn’t thought of this.
he tries very hard to stick it out, in his defense. the foreplay is still great, and you’re whining for his cock in minutes, but as soon as he’s halfway in, he yanks the damn helmet off.
jason’s sweaty, pupils blown and wild, curls sticking to his forehead. “fuckin’ need-” he doesn’t even bother finishing his sentence, smashing his mouth to yours as he finally sinks in all the way to the hilt.
he cums embarrassingly quickly after being denied the opportunity to satisfy his oral fixation. still, you just laugh and kiss him again, telling him to fuck his cum back into you.
he's apprehensive about it at first. not in a "no way in hell are you putting anything in my ass i'm a man" way but in a "i know it takes a lot of work leading up to that and it can kind of hurt if we're not careful and i'm just nervous" kinda way
but when you do work him up to it?????? it's like his favorite thing ever. he's practically begging you to get the strap
his favorite is missionary because he loves being able to look at you (such a lover boy) but your favorite is putting him face down ass up because you love holding onto his ass and watching his back muscles every time he writhes and squirms
also being sort of dominate in the doggy position and telling him to fuck himself on your cock 🤭
Summary: Jason is angry after watching Wuthering Heights. You are horny watching him get angry.
Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader
C/W: Wuthering Heights. Suggestive (making out, grinding(?))
A/N: My first time really writing anything close to smut (or suggestive). So please, i know this isn't great, but we are starting somewhere. dividers: @/cursed-carmine
MDNI
“Why the fuck is Heathcliff played by Jacob elordi? Did she even read the book?” Jason huffs, turning the pages of his annotated copy of Wuthering Heights. “There is so much evidence that he is anything but white, yet here we are in 2026, where...”
blah blah blah
You really should be listening because, for one, he was right, and two, it concerned a whole lot about the world’s state right now. But how could you, if Jason Peter Todd sat on the velvety couch, knees spread, jaw clenched tight, and those beautiful emerald eyes narrowed into tiny slits. His black jeans strained against his sturdy thighs and white t-shirt stuck to his torso like a second skin – you could even see his abs pulsing with every word, and boy, was it hypnotising.
Both of you had just returned home after watching the recent adaptation (if you could even call it that), and to say the least, Jason was pissed. He had gone straight to the bookshelf at the corner of the living room, grabbed his paperback copy and started ranting about all the discrepancies between the movie and the book, which were pretty much everything.
It’s not like you didn't try; you really did. But your boyfriend was hot, especially when he was angry. You lick your lips, trying to cool the sudden warmth surging through your body. The deep blue lighting from the paused TV screen highlighted Jason, as if he were the beautiful, deep ocean, and you were the reckless sailor drowning in it. Jason leaned, his head falling back on the couch, palm resting against his forehead in exasperation, but instead, all you saw was his biceps flexing.
Yeah, you couldn’t take it anymore.
“What was that for?” he mumbles when you pluck the book out of his hands and straddle his lap. His face is warm under your hands, eyes a little widened at the sudden movement. You brush against his scars before placing feather-light kisses from the tilt of his jaw, the expanse of his cheeks, and his scars to the column of his throat. His hands are at your waist, firm but gentle, as his eyes flutter, breathy gasps leaving his lips at the sudden rampage.
“Baby, please, " he sighed at the lack of your mouth on the only place he wanted.
Finally, your lips seal his, tasting the cherry ice cream he had earlier. Jason squeezes your hips, finding the silver of skin underneath your shirt, tracing circles on to them – either to calm you or himself. Before long, one of his hands cups your neck, slithering his tongue between your glossy lips, swirling with yours like a melody you both are fluent in. Your hips unconsciously grind onto his, as he gasps.
“You just looked so hot, Jay.” You whisper letting out a breath as you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, placing a small kiss while your fingers threaded through his hair, “I couldn’t help it”. He hums, hands trailing to your butt before squeezing the flesh as he stands – your legs still looped at his waist—causing you to let out a yelp.
“ Well, we can’t just leave this halfway now, can we?” Emerald eyes hold yours, now brimming with desire, flooding all your senses. You whisper back, a sly smile on your face “of course, we can’t”
You giggle, as he leaps (literally) with you to the bedroom.
Bonus Scene:
“It still doesn’t make sense how she could cast a POC actor for Edgar but not for Heathcliff,” you hum, drifting in between sleep as you nuzzle into his naked chest, his fingers twirling your hair. It was early morning now, after hours of being in each other’s arms, and Jason was still stuck on last night’s movie.
“Wuthering Heights by Kate Bush is really the best adaptation to date”
A/N: So I watched Wuthering heights two weeks back and well I hated it.
jason todd who's a little perv and so shy about it ╱ mdni, panty sniffing and stealing, soft teasing ˚.✦
You've been waiting for the perfect moment to confront your boyfriend about your fourth missing panties of the week.
It comes late that night. Jason’s just peeled off the Red Hood gear and he’s standing in the bedroom doorway in nothing but low-slung sweatpants and the faint sheen of sweat still clinging to his collarbones. He looks tired, beautifully so, dark hair damp and falling into his eyes. He hasn’t noticed you watching him yet.
You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, one of his t-shirts swallowing your frame. In your hand is the thin black lace you found shoved hastily under his pillow this afternoon, the fifth pair, actually. You hold them up by one finger, letting them dangle.
“Jay.”
His head snaps up. Green eyes lock on the scrap of fabric, then on your face. The color drains from his cheeks so fast it’s almost comical, replaced a heartbeat later by a flush that crawls from his throat all the way to his ears.
“Shit,” he breathes. One hand comes up to rub the back of his neck, a nervous tic he can’t ever quite kill. “Fuck. You weren’t supposed to—”
“Find them?” you finish softly, tilting your head. You don’t sound angry. You don’t even sound surprised. “Baby, this is the fifth pair this week.”
He winces like you’ve struck him. His mouth opens, closes. Opens again. Nothing comes out at first except a mortified sound caught somewhere between a groan and a plea.
“I didn’t...” He stops, drags both hands down his face, fingers splayed wide. “I didn’t come in them. I swear to God. I wouldn’t—I’m not that fucking disrespectful, I just—”
He cuts himself off, throat working. The flush deepens until the tips of his ears are practically glowing. He can’t look at you. His gaze keeps darting to the panties, then to the floor, then to the wall. Anywhere but your face.
You stand slowly, letting the lace slip from your fingers onto the bed. You step closer. Not crowding him, not yet. Just close enough that he can feel your warmth, smell the faint trace of your shampoo still clinging to your skin.
“Tell me why,” you murmur.
Jason swallows hard. His voice comes out wrecked, barely above a whisper. “They smell like you.”
He risks a glance at you then, like he’s waiting for disgust or laughter or disgust-laughter. When he doesn’t find either, his shoulders drop a fraction.
“I know it’s fucked up,” he mumbles. “I know. I just… after patrol sometimes I come home and you’re already asleep and you smell so fucking good and I um... I miss you even when you’re right there. So I took one. I was gonna wash ’em and put ’em back, I swear, I just—” He breaks off, voice cracking on a shaky exhale. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I’ll buy you new ones. Ten. Twenty. Whatever you want. I’m sorry.”
He’s practically vibrating with embarrassment now, huge frame hunched in on itself like he’s trying to disappear. One hand is clenched into a fist at his side, the other keeps scrubbing over the back of his neck like he can wipe the shame away.
You reach out, slow, and catch that restless hand. His fingers twitch against yours but he doesn’t pull away.
“Hey,” you say gently.
It takes him a long second. When he finally looks at you, his pupils are blown wide, cheeks scarlet. He looks like he’s two seconds from bolting or dropping to his knees.
You step into his space properly this time, until your chest brushes his. You can feel the frantic thud of his heart against your ribs.
“You could’ve just asked,” you whisper, lips curving. “I would’ve let you keep one. Or… I could’ve worn them for you. Let you take them off me.”
A broken noise punches out of his throat. His free hand flies to your waist, gripping hard like he needs the anchor.
“Jesus Christ,” he rasps. “Don’t hah say shit like that when I’m already losing my mind here.”
You smile against his jaw, press the softest kiss there. “Too late.”
His forehead drops to your shoulder, breath hot and uneven against your neck.
“I’m such a fucking pervert,” he mutters into your skin. “You deserve better than me sniffing your underwear like some desperate—"
You slide your fingers into his hair, tugging just enough to make him hiss.
“You’re my desperate pervert. And I like that you want me that bad. I like that you think about me when I’m not even awake. I like that you’re blushing so hard right now I can feel the heat coming off you.”
He groans miserable and turned-on all at once.
You tip your head, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Next time… just tell me. Or better yet, take them off me yourself.”
His grip on your waist turns bruising. His breathing stutters.
“Fuck,” he chokes. “You’re gonna kill me.”
“I be you'll die happy,” you murmur, smiling against his pulse.
He laughs and finally wraps both arms around you, crushing you to his chest like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go.
“I love you,” he mumbles into your hair. “Even when you’re torturing me.”
You slide your hands up his bare back, nails grazing gently. “I love you too. Panties and all.”
He buries his face deeper against your neck and lets out a long breath.
“…Can I keep the black ones?” he asks, so quiet you almost miss it.
You laugh softly, press a kiss to his temple.
“Only if you say ‘pretty please’ first.”
He groans again.
“Pretty fucking please,” he mutters.
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