#Jason Headers

[dehydrated-turtle]

Untouched

//warnings// +16, mdni, transmasc!reader

Jason Todd loves it when you sit on his face, suffocating him with your pussy. The feeling of your wet slick rolling down his four day old scruff always gets him harder than he ever thought possible. he gets off on the sight of you above him, seeing you through your bush, face contorted in ecstacy, it makes him leak. His enormous arms wrapped around your thighs to keep you in place above him. Slips his tongue into your hole just so he can hear his boy yelp and moan lewdly which just makes his cock jump. Before he even realizes it, his boxers are soaked and sticky without even being touched, he moans into your heat, eyes glazing over as you reach your own high, rocking your hips against his lips and getting off on the vibration coming from his throat.

[silvwrhood]

➥𝗝𝗔𝗦𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗢𝗗𝗗; 𝗶𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘀/𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿┊❞

↳like/reblog if you save ↳credits if you repost ↳follow for more <3 ↳ feel free to ask me for icons, headers and gifs

[allthegothihopgirls]

something abt this panel... i want to bite it

[crowstormx]

. . . 🍷𓂅 𝗷𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗻 layouts﹗like + reblog 𔓕

[bevongf]

joker: folie a deux headers

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c nevvmon on tt

[aarontaylorjohnsonsdivorcelawyer]

library card ➵ valgrace university au

part 7 [masterlist]

[sunnie-angel]

Strawberry Pie

jason todd x gn!reader

summary: you spend a lazy morning finishing baking the pie that Jason started

tags: kissing, fluff, domestic jason todd

rated teen | wc: 1.1k

a/n: a loosely inspired song fic. can be read as a future scene from A Soft Touch or as a standalone. just wanted something light and fluffy and was possessed with the urge for pie so here it is.

It’s warm this morning, but there’s a cool cross-breeze coming in through the open window. It’s not late enough in the spring to start turning on the AC yet, the breeze currently lifting the sheer curtains enough to keep the apartment fresh. You reach over to the empty side of the bed, let your hand bunch up into a fist before pushing yourself upright and out of bed. Jason had told you, between parting kisses, that he’d be late coming home, the planned stakeout likely to go on until noon. You’d expected this, unworried by his absence but still secretly hoping he’d have returned safe to you.

You make yourself a cup of tea and drink it leaning against the countertop, the Formica countertop digging into the small of your back, the thin cotton of your tank top barely blunting the edge. Feeling hungry, you go looking for breakfast ingredients in the fridge. There’s a note from Jason, stuck to the top of the strawberries you’d bought at the farmer’s market yesterday. For pie, do not eat! signed off with a little heart and smiley face. A few shelves down is the pie dough, covered in plastic wrap and exactly where Jason had left it, in a hurry to follow up on the lead his lieutenant had called in.

It’s a lazy Saturday morning, time stretching out in front of you. You pull out the dough and berries, set them onto the counter. Go rummaging through Jason’s box of recipe cards, one of his last keepsakes from his mother and added to by Alfred, until you can find the one for strawberry pie. The recipe is easy enough, Jason having done all the hard work of making the dough.

You start by turning on the radio, an old analogue thing that Jason had been determined to fix by himself, and setting the oven to preheat. The strawberries go into a colander, washed and ready for slicing. You pop one into your mouth and it just about bursts on your tongue, bright and sweet like sunshine. They’re smaller than the kind you can buy at the grocery store, seeds more prominent and scent stronger. It’s a shame that these wild strawberries are only available a few months of the year but it makes them that much sweeter. Humming, you slice through the quart of berries, juice staining your fingertips. Put them in a bowl with cornstarch and sugar, a dash of lemon juice to finish.

Turning to the dough, you start rolling half out onto the floured countertop. It fits into the pie dish Jason had brought back from one of his missions almost perfectly, only a few hanging edges in need of trimming. Feeling adventurous, you decide to braid some of the lattice work for the top. It comes out a little lopsided, but it’s a good first attempt. Fingers pinching, the fluted edge of the pie takes shape. A light hand with the egg wash and a sprinkle of Demerara sugar later and it’s done. You step back to admire your work. It makes a pretty picture, the pie on the marbled countertop, white tulips in a vase from your one foray into pottery, mid-morning sun bright and white through the kitchen windows.

The pie goes into the oven, and you start cleaning up the evidence of your morning’s activities. The dishes go into the washer, the countertop wiped clean, leftover berries into your stomach. So engrossed in your tasks, you don’t hear the door open or the duffel bag hit the floor of the entryway. Arms circle around you, pick you up and spin you in a circle. Jason sets you down, buries his face in your neck.

“Something smells good,” he murmurs into your hair. And it does, the air filled with the scent of golden pastry and roasting strawberries.

“It should. I’ve been working away on that pie all morning.”

“Thought that was my job.” He tries to pout, but you swat at his hip with the dish towel. The timer on the oven goes off, interrupting the moment.

“Well that,” and you gesture at the oven, “can be your job now.”

He accepts his new job with minimal pouting, scooping up the bee-patterned oven mitts and taking out the pie. It’s perfect, golden with rich red juice bubbling through the lattice work. Steam rises off the top in a way that’s got both of your mouths watering. Jason reaches out to pinch off a piece of crust with his bare hand, but you swat his hands away before he can burn his fingers.

“Not yet! It’s got to cool first Jay.” Looking him over, you finally catch on that he’s still got his jacket on and fully zipped up, despite the warm day. He only ever does that when his shirt’s got bloodstains on it. “Go on, take a shower. By the time you’re done the pie’ll be ready and you can have some for breakfast.”

Jokingly holding his hands up in surrender, he starts heading for the bathroom. “Okay, okay, I’m going!”

“Oh and don’t forget to throw anything bloody into the washer, not the laundry basket! I want to run the next load before the stain really sets in this time,” you call over your shoulder. Last time Jason had left it too long, had ended up having to throw away a previous favourite shirt when neither of your combined efforts had gotten the dried blood spatter out.

He makes a noise of assent and you get busy unloading the dishwasher as you can hear the spray of the shower turn on, leaving out two small plates beside the pie. Some forks, a large knife, and an ice cream scoop join them on the counter. You’re just getting the ice cream out of the freezer, the expensive kind with real vanilla beans that Jason splurges on, when he walks back into the kitchen. He hasn’t dried his hair properly, a habit you haven’t gotten him to break in all the time you’ve known each other and grown to just accept.

You hand the knife over to him with a careful kiss, let him carve up slices for the both of you, hands sure and steady. You’re struggling with the ice cream, frozen solid and unwilling to be scooped. Jason notices, gently nudges you out of the way with his hip and takes over, depositing two perfect spheres of ice cream on top of each slice of pie.

Picking up a fork, you feed him the first bite, hand cupped below it to catch any droplets of ice cream. He closes his eyes, goes silent for a moment. You start to get worried that somehow you’ve messed it up, maybe mixed up the salt with the sugar but you were sure it had tasted just fine when you’d licked the filling syrup off of your wrist.

“So? What do you think?”

He smiles before opening his eyes. “I think it tastes like home.”

[deadsetobsessions]

Y’ALL LOOK AT THE HEADER MY BESTIE COMMISSIONED FOR ME!!! IT’S SO CUTE!!!! I’M DYING LOOK!!! AT!!! HIM!!!

You can find find the artist on twitter: @chaaarco

[syphasfire]

[jason todd/red hood headers!] ↪ like or reblog if you use

[batmanbebop]

Panel of the red hood from a WIP comic page —I love doing panels like this! (I think bc they're so versatile, and i used to be so bad at them as i really struggled with filling the space whilst keeping the proportions correct)

Hey! I am thinking of taking requests/commissions for header art, like this one of the red hood, or like the one i'm using of robin on my blog. I wouldn't charge anything, they'd be free for anyone to use, but if you have anyone in particular in mind lmk! otherwise i may do a series of YJ and/or Batfam characters.

Anyway, that's all — hope it's of interest to some?

[mis8to]

Batman & Robin (Jason Todd) headers

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[i4bnny]

Headers Twitter

L!KE / R3BL0G to use pls ૮꒰ ˶• ˔ ก ꒱ა

Don't repost ‌=͟͟͞ ♡﹗

[faysayk]

messy layouts but its my hyperfixations (and two kins u'll never guess who)

[mondlevan]

halloween headers

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[crowstormx]

 𓉸 𝅄 jason & amanda spooky layouts. 🎃 ⁈

[iconsfinder]