#arkham knight x reader imagines

[in-som-niyah]

Jason Todd has abs you could grate cheese on.

no i will not elaborate

[jellofish-plant]

Sleeping In

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Summary: Jason Todd is not a morning person. He sleeps in until noon whenever he gets the chance, much to your frustration. After a few failed attempts to wake him, you decide to let him rest only for him to pull you back into bed with him.

[Masterlist]

The sun was already high in the sky, streaming through the curtains, but Jason Todd was still buried under the covers, dead to the world. It was almost noon, and despite your best efforts to wake him gentle nudges, calling his name, even shaking him slightly he only grumbled and pulled the blankets tighter around himself.

"Jay," you sighed, arms crossed as you stood beside the bed. "You said we were gonna get breakfast. You promised."

"Mmhm," came his muffled reply from under the pillow. "Later."

"Later? Jason, it’s almost noon!"

He peeked out, groggy and stubborn. His dark hair was an absolute mess, sticking up in every direction, and his voice was thick with sleep when he said, "That still counts as morning somewhere in the world."

You rolled your eyes. "You're impossible."

With a huff, you turned to leave, deciding to get breakfast on your own. But before you could take a step, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, yanking you back onto the bed. A surprised yelp escaped your lips as you landed against his chest.

"Jay—!"

"Stay," he murmured, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. His voice was low, drowsy, and entirely unfair in how convincing it was. "Too early. Five more minutes."

"You said that an hour ago."

"Okay, five more after that."

You sighed but didn't move, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing. Maybe, just maybe, breakfast could wait a little longer.

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

! ── BABY DADDY!JASON TODD who can't come around more than once or twice a year. His way of life isn't sustainable for a home, and it certainly isn't safe for a daughter. You and him decided it was best to part ways before that positive pregnancy test, and since he discovered a kid he helped make it didn't change his level of involvement. He's got a lot of eyes on him, and he can't draw attention to anything important to him.

! ── Your daughter adores him. She squeals with delight every time he visits, running full barrel towards him so he can scoop her up. Unbeknownst to her your concern with how he found you again, and how he broke in to the apartment. Apparently running and hiding is not enough when you face the Red Hood. You reluctantly greet him with a half-assed kiss on the cheek, wrapping your arm around his neck to incline him towards you. Your daughter on his hip takes full advantage of hugging you both at the same time, and pressed against your former lover makes you tight-lipped.

! ── He's dangerous for a number of reasons that span beyond what any angry enemy of his would do if they found out where he's been going. You're most afraid of what he's able to make you do the longer you're with him. Only able to hold onto your anger for so long until he melts that cold exterior and somehow convinces you to let him warm your bed again.

! ── He's got it down to a science. As soon as you give him that scathing look, he tells your daughter to run along because "Mommy and Daddy have to talk." while she thoughtfully strokes his chin with her little hand, only to nod with an audible sigh, shaking out her wild hair she won't let you brush. With a little push to her back, she scampers off to her room and he stands to his full height. "I just wanted to see her." he tells you, with that pleading tone you've fallen for countlessly because he knows you're going to say: "It's not safe." for the thousandth time.

! ── He'll tower over you, incline towards you while you scold him under your breath. A hushed argument ensues that your daughter tries to listen in on, and can only hear bits and pieces about how she's not owned, and her dad should get to see her. Stuff she doesn't understand, especially because she can't understand his lack of presence being such a complicated thing when she has no sense of object permanence. If a dad refuses to be there more, it's a problem. You want to cut Jason out completely. That's not fair, as he'll tell you, to the daughter you get to keep.

! ── It's in the way he stands next to you. He's so much taller than you, broader, and muscled. He bulks up more and more every time you see him. He doesn't use his size to intimidate you, rather takes advantage of something else. Big hands stuffed in his back pockets make his leather jacket sit on his wide shoulders exquisitely. His hair is windblown from his motorbike and just the smell of him has a dangerous Pavlov effect on you. Like your eyes want to flutter as they roll into the back of your head and lightning shoots straight down to your core, stinging at the memory of what it's like to be filled by him. The longer you're with him, the thinner your resolve becomes. It evaporates in front of you as he sweeps a hand through his hair, and his posture slacks. "C'mon." he drags out the word playfully, advancing on you. Your hand interrupts him, bracing on his firm chest to keep him from coming closer. "Can't we talk about something else? You're getting me all worked up. Missed you."

You roll your jaw, that resolve slipping. Addicted to him, you're reticent as his tongue darts out to wet his lips while he's eyeing yours. "Jay..." you murmur, and he can hear the defeat in your voice.

! ── "Lucky we got a sitter, huh?" Jason's smug voice cuts through the wet sounds of sex that fills the room. "Now I get some time with my other little girl." That sick delight causes you to reach back, weakly banging your fist against his thigh. He snickers, wolfish and husky resounding from the back of his throat. "Mommy's been missing me, huh? Can feel her clenching down on me like a fuckin' vice."

His thick cock hurts stretching you out, but you needed that pain. There's something about Jason that keeps you saying yes, and it pushed through your requirement of foreplay, unbuckling that belt in haste, comfort be damned you wanted that dick. You're on all fours and he's giving it to you from the back, just how you like it, fucking you like a dog while his hand tangles all up in your hair. He yanks you back by it, and you can't even think of what to say other than mindless pleasured babbles.

"You let me do this every time I come over. Seems like you fuck with me or something." It's true, regardless of the cruel insults you've thrown at him to get him to stay away from you, it's all because you can't say no to him. It's the reason you got pregnant, it's the reason you can't run away far enough, and it's the reason you fuck him every time he comes to visit the kid he helped make.

[cindol]

ak!jason todd likes to get praised by you in the heat of the moment. It doesn’t how much pleasure you’re feeling, he wants to know how he’s doing so good for you.

In the middle of him lapping at your cunt he’ll stop if he doesn’t hear praises in between your moans and do a sudden smack on your ass and take his lips off your clit at your whine.

“I’m doing a whole ass workout with my mouth here, I’d appreciate you singing some praises when I’m sucking you.”

[mostly-imagines]

The Arkham Knight

jason todd x fem!reader

aka the arkham knight goes after the crevice in the red hoods armor

warnings: typical canon violence, threats to the reader including death & implied sa, nonconsensual touching for reader (not nsfw), reader gets cut with a knife, character death (not reader or jason), angst w comfort

**for the sake of this, we're going to pretend that the arkham knight isn't jason -- or that he's from an alternate universe or something if you prefer. in any case, red hood & the arkham knight co-exist in this fic

You wake up to a sensation that takes you a moment to place. Your eyes are still closed and the word conscious is barely even applicable to you, but still, you feel it.    

There’s a hand wrapped around your neck.

Given that it's about one in the morning at this point and it’s not uncommon for your boyfriend to get very touchy after coming home from patrol, you didn’t dwell much on it.

His thumb strokes across your skin delicately, applying no real force with his grip.

You don’t feel his arm, though. Usually, you’d expect to feel the weight of at least his arm on you, as he laid next to you, hand resting on your neck. But you just feel his hand. No other weight on the bed at all, actually. Like he’s standing next to it.

That is something to dwell on, you think. You open your eyes and almost scream, before the hand on your neck swiftly clamps down over your mouth.

“Shhh.” he hushes. 

You probably wouldn’t be too much less scared if it were some random burglar, but it’s not. You look at the helmet hovering above you and you recognize it instantly. That’s the Arkham Knight. Jason hadn’t said much about him but you know he’s been having altercations with him recently from the news.

Standard enough.

What’s not so standard is one of Red Hood’s enemies in your apartment, in your bedroom. That means he knows who Jason is. Not good. Not good at all.

The Knight uses his free hand to yank you up by your arm into a sitting position. Your thoughts are still going a mile a minute trying to process what the hell is happening when he hauls you over his shoulder.

You start to fight back, thrashing in his hold and hitting his back with as much force as you can muster, but you’re not surprised it doesn’t do much. This guy’s as big as Jason and it doesn’t take a vigilante to figure out that this is a fight you can’t win.

He jostles you on his shoulder a little bit, murmuring, “Easy, sweetheart. We’re just going on a little trip.”

You continue struggling against him and when you reach the apartment building hallway you start shouting, though you’re quickly shut up by him.

He plops you down on your feet, hands gripping your shoulders tightly. “Don’t make me hurt you.” He warns with venom. 

If you’re going to get away it could only be now. But you saw the gun holstered to his thigh and based on the little that you know about him, he will shoot anyone that tries to help you without hesitation. 

So you let him shove you outside and into the backseat of a black car without a fight, only starting to feel the consequences with the way he holds you incredibly close with a tight grip throughout the ride.

You end up at a warehouse at the edge of the city, filled with crates and storage containers that you’re assuming are stocked with weapons. Soldiers line the perimeters and block the exits, though you didn’t have much of a mind to try and run from the Arkham Knight anyways. The metallic glint off his gun from the lights warn you every time he moves.

He has you sat on a chair as he leans against a crate in front of you, not bothering to have tied your hands. He doesn’t seem to be in any rush to do anything with you, if anything, the way he idly lazes implies that he’s waiting for something. Waiting for Jason, you’d guess. A long fifteen or so minutes goes by—you know so because you counted the seconds in your head as an attempt to keep your mind away from the killer in front of you.

You’re dressed only in a loose t-shirt and sleep shorts, the Gotham night air bitter on your skin. It only gives you all the more reason to curl up into yourself, doing your best to cover your body. 

He tilts your face to the side with the barrel of his gun. “You are a pretty thing, aren’t you? I can see why he keeps you.”

You snap your head away, eyes down and looking to the concrete floor. The sleeve of your shirt slips from your shoulder and you quickly yank it back up, much to the amusement of the Knight.

His shoulders shake lightly as he relaxes the gun to his side, “So, what? S’he your boyfriend or r’you just fucking each other?”

You try to keep your face neutral, keeping your eyes glued on the ground. “I just help patch him up sometimes. I don’t even know who he is.”

He takes a deep breath. “I’m going to ignore the fact that you just lied to me, but only because I already know the answer.” He pulls you in close and kisses the side of your head with his helmet before whispering in your ear, “Don’t lie to me again.”

You try not to let your shoulders shake as bad as they want to, though you’re sure he knows exactly how frightened you are anyways.

You huff quietly, attempting to show more courage than you have. “So what, all this for ransom? Just to piss him off?”

He tilts his head at you wryly, “No, I’m going to put a bullet in his head.”

Your mouth snaps shut.

“Ah. Yeah, if you were just fucking you wouldn’t have that look on your face right now.” He tuts, patting your cheek.

A series of gunshots outside the warehouse has you jumping in your seat.

The Knight claps his hands together, “Oh, here we go!”

He stands abruptly and pulls you up with him roughly, wrapping his arms around you to pin you against his chest, resting the chin of his helmet on your shoulder. The few men scattered around the room drop one by one, quickly, though the Arkham Knight pays them no regard.

“Back away from her.” The modulated voice of his helmet calls out sharply. You can’t quite tell where he is, but he sounds up high—maybe in the rafters or set up at one of the windows.

“Easy, Hood. Pays to be mindful of the stakes.” He pushes your chin up with the barrel of the gun.

You can’t see him but you have a feeling he’s got his gun trained on you, waiting for the Knight to give him a decent shot.

You can tell how incensed he is, even from the distance as he shouts, “Put the gun down. Now.”

The Knight tsks, “Don’t make me do something I’ll kind of regret. She’s got too pretty of a face to die so soon.” He squeezes your cheeks as you try to pull your head away from his hands, with no avail. “And so messy.”

His free hand travels down your neck and squeezes. You try not to look scared, both to spite the Knight and for the sake of Jason’s concentration.

He backs you up into a mess of crates, gun persistently pointed to your head, and he yanks you down with him to duck behind them. You’re both mostly obscured from view, though you think the tops of your heads might still be visible from the angle Jason’s at.

“I’m not asking twice.”

The Knight ignores his threat, continuing on, “No, no, don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of her for you, Hood. She won’t miss a thing.” His glove drifts down your side, squeezing your waist.

Jason fires again, hitting startlingly close to the Knight’s head.

You take the momentary distraction to knee him in the groin which only makes him tighten his grip on you. “Oh, you…” he grunts. “You are a fighter, aren’t you?”

You sneer at him, “Fuck—” he yanks your hair roughly, pulling you into a better angle for him to hold onto you. “You.”

He squeezes your arm very hard, calling out, “On second thought, Jace, I’m thinking about cutting her open and letting her bleed out right here.”

He puts his gun in the holster before one of his hands pulls the bottom of your shirt up, the other flipping out a blade that he presses flat against your stomach. The knife is cold against your skin and the sensation is what allows you to finally admit to yourself that you’re scared.

This is somehow a hell of a lot more terrifying than the gun and you can’t swallow the fact that you’re one unlucky move away from being gutted in an abandoned warehouse at the edge of Gotham. Jason’s quiet and you can’t be sure that he’s not injured or stuck dealing with more soldiers. You visibly shake at the thought of really being on your own now.

The Knight clicks his tongue, tilting his head down at you as he watches you tremble. “Aw, I’m sorry. Am I scaring you?” He knicks your skin, purring, “It’s not personal, sweetheart.” He lets the blade drag a bit, widening the size of the cut. “Well, not for you.”

You grimace at the feeling of being sliced open, trying your hardest not to give him any reaction. Your body involuntarily slides down to the ground until you’re on your back with him crouched above you. 

He pulls the knife back and you both take in the sight of your blood lining the side of it. Your eyes well with tears as he points the end of the knife down at your stomach, readying to pierce your skin in a far less superficial way.

A gunshot fires far closer than you were prepared for, making your entire body jump. The fear becomes visceral then, because your automatic reaction to the noise was to assume that you had just been shot by the Arkham Knight. But in actuality, the Knight himself gets knocked to the floor, the shot having hit the side of his helmet. A flash of red out of the corner of your eye has you flinching, though it darts right past you and onto the Knight.

Hood slams him fully onto the ground by the shoulders, trying to remove his helmet so he can fire a shot that's actually effective. The Knight fights against him, pushing him off of him and reaching to draw his own gun.

You’re dragging yourself backwards, crawling away to safety. You keep going until you can’t see them anymore; you’re too scared to see it play out, too scared to help, too scared to think.

The clamor of grunts and punches landing drowns your senses as you try to fold in on yourself into the smallest ball possible on pure instinct.

A shot fires, though the sounds of struggling persist. Another shot, followed by a curse that you can’t make out who it came from. You can see debris littering the air around one of the crates where one of the shots must have hit. A few seconds go by before a third shot echoes out and the scuffle slows to a halt.

It’s quiet for the longest few moments of your life and in the panic, you begin to lose all sense of what you’re waiting for. You forget to look up when you hear someone approaching you rapidly, only finding cessation to your concern when a pair of hands grabs your face, pulling your head up so he can see you.

You’re only barely able to process that it’s your boyfriend knelt in front of you, blood splattered on his armor. You know this is good, you’re grateful to see him, but you can’t feel anything but panic.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, taking in your emotional state. “Are you hurt?” His helmet scans over you frantically, hands trying their best to remain gentle on your face.

You try, but you can’t push the words out of your mouth.

Honestly, you just want to see him, see his face so you can start to feel safe again. But the sight of another inanimate helmet is doing nothing to calm you, in spite of you wholeheartedly trusting the person under it with your life.

His gaze finds the small pool of blood seeping through your shirt. He rushes to lift your shirt up, fussing over the laceration. It’s about two inches wide, but it’s shallow enough that it won’t need stitches. Once he determines that you don’t need immediate medical attention, he drops your shirt back down, leveling his face to yours.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers desperately, “Baby. Talk to me,” he brushes hair out of your face gently and the contact makes you jump on instinct, your adrenaline nowhere near lowering. If you were in any real state of mind right now you’d feel awful for flinching like that when he touched you, you know exactly how sensitive that is for him. But right now, you didn’t even completely register that it was him that touched you.

Your eyes stay fixed on the concrete and the only response you can manage is a strangled hum and a shake of your head, no I can’t talk right now not right now not now

“Okay. Okay,” he lifts you up off the ground from your knees and holds you close, like he’s trying to prevent you from disappearing again. You’re staring blankly at his glove holding up your thigh, trying to center your focus on that instead of all the bodies in your peripheral or the memory of the blade pressed against your abdomen.

You don’t notice it, but he’s looking down at you constantly, scanning your face for anything, any signs of change.

The entire ride back to your apartment you’ve got a death grip around his torso and he’s thankful for it because he can’t have his hands on you while he’s driving the bike.

He gently helps you inside, handling you like your bones are made of float glass. His helmet finally comes off once you’re back home, but you’re a bit too out of it to even notice.

The wave of lucid emotions don’t kick in until he sets you gently on the bed and you realize you’re back in the place where you woke up to his hand around your throat. You can feel the bottom of your shirt sticking to your skin, the blood slowly starting to dry.

The tears fall before you could even realize that your eyes started watering and Jason could swear on his life that he physically felt his heart break. 

You feel like a little kid the way you cry, chin low and shoulders shaking. You don’t even know what you want, what could possibly help right now.

“Can I touch you?” He asks in a strangled whisper, desperate to try anything he can to make this better for you. He absolutely hates that you have to be in such distress because of something that he brought into your life, something that he should’ve been able to prevent. He’d rather relive all his worst days again and again than see you so pained ever again.

You give no response so he takes the chance and does it anyway because he can’t stand to see you hurting so badly and while he just sits here watching. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you onto his lap and into his chest. Thankfully, you respond in kind and squeeze your arms around him tightly, sobbing harder.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He presses his mouth against your head, trying to keep it together as you shake in his hold.

He won’t tell you this, especially not right now, but he was absolutely terrified. He couldn’t have gotten home more than ten minutes after you’d left, being met with little things ever so slightly out of place. The bedroom door ajar, when you usually keep it closed. The lamp in the living room that you always leave on for him was off. The bolt on the door was broken, the turn locks unlocked.

He’s panicked plenty of times before in false alarms, thinking you were gone or dead when in reality you’d just been tired and skipped a few steps in your nightly routine. So he kept his thoughts at bay as he crept into the bedroom, opening the door to find the bed empty, sheets oddly messy. He booked it down the hall and checked the bathroom, checked the spare room. Nothing. He’d whipped his phone out immediately and could literally feel his stomach drop when he heard your phone ringing in the bedroom.

It didn’t take him long to piece together what had happened, who had taken you. He’d been having increasing altercations with the Arkham Knight lately and they were beginning to get very annoyed with each other. Occasional accidental run-ins had given way to full on ambushes and planned assaults, leading both of the men to lose their patience quickly.

A couple nights earlier, mid-shootout, The Knight had shouted out something that should’ve raised flags for Jason. “I’d hate to let this get personal,” he’d said.

But he was in the heat of the fight and barely even allowed himself to register the words, let alone sift through their implication. That’s no excuse though, is it? He’s supposed to keep you safe, that’s his job—that’s his only job. He should’ve seen the tail that was following him, he should’ve installed better security measures at your apartment, he should’ve checked on you, should’ve stayed with you, should’ve left you alone all together. But he was selfish and careless and now you’re bleeding and traumatized from being pulled from your bed in the middle of the night, having a gun pushed in your face, and being cut by a psychopath.

You sit on his lap, completely zeroed in on the feeling of his touch and how drastically different it resonates than the Knight’s burning hold on you. Jason’s hands on you don’t have that scorching fire sensation, but warm and comforting like an emergency blanket. You can feel his Red Hood armor pressing into you uncomfortably, but you want more of it. You need more. You can’t possibly get enough of it right now. 

“Please hold me tighter,” you pipe up for the first time in several minutes, your words are hushed and exerted. It makes you sound like you’re hiding, trying not to be caught.

He nearly squeezes the breath out of your lungs and it’s still not tight enough. The tears run out soon after and you sit lax against him. You focus on the feeling of his breath against you, his exhale wavering your hair a little. His breath is steadier than yours and you try to match up with him, but you’ve found that even in normal times, his breathing is always a little slower than yours.   

There’s a nearly imperceptible creak of a floorboard in your living room that has you jolting in Jason’s lap. His head snaps up, one of his hands immediately flying to your hair. His hold prevents you from turning your head, though you're not sure you even want to. You prepare yourself for the sound of gunshots, modulated voices, punches landing.  

You’re confused when Jason remains stationary on the bed and he relaxes slightly. A few long seconds go by before he calls out lowly, “Go.” 

His posture loosens again a moment later and though you don’t hear the intruder retreat, you’ll later realize that was your biggest clue as to who it was. But for right now, you bury your face as deep into his neck as you can, letting him run his finger through your hair in an attempt to cancel out the brief adrenaline jump you just got.

His next words come at a volume so low you nearly miss them all together. “Did he touch you?” He sounds like he’s biting back nausea at the thought.

“No. Not like that.” you mumble back, just as quiet. Your voice is more detached than his, and while the words themselves are a relief, your tone makes him hurt inside.

His head drops against your shoulder for a second before he glances up at the door again, letting out a tense exhale. “I…fuck. Can I…I need to go in the living room for a second. Just a second.”  

The thought of being separated from him right now makes you literally want to throw up, but tonight has been nothing if not another reassurance that you trust him more than anything.

He pulls back from you and looks you in the eye, hand stroking along the side of your head as he checks for certainty. You do your best to let him find it and when he does he kisses your forehead softly. You slowly climb off of him and he makes sure to wrap you up nicely in the comforter before he goes.

He stands intentionally in the doorway, closing the door enough so that there’s only just enough room for him to stand.

“What happened?” you hear the gruff voice of the Batman, followed by Jason shushing him. You can’t quite make out what he mutters back, though you can tell the sentence is short. 

You think you can hear Batman ask if you’re hurt and you see Jason hesitate and then shake his head. You let yourself fall into a reclined position on the bed, consumed by your cocoon of blankets. Jason was really onto something with this.  

Batman sighs, “Alright. We’ll discuss this more tomorrow.”

“Not tomorrow.” Jason says shortly. His meaning is clear, he’s not leaving you again any time soon. Especially not to fill Batman in on something that’s done and over with. Something that he’s hoping to never have to talk about again. A few beats pass before Jason closes the door with a soft click and returns to you quickly.

He takes your hands in his as he sits, rubbing reassuring circles with his thumbs. 

“I need to get you bandaged up.” He whispers reluctantly, knowing that’s not what you want to hear right now. You drop your head on his shoulder wordlessly and he takes in the sight of your blood on your hands. Now it’s his turn to feel sick. “We can—” he pauses, “Do you want to shower first?”

Oh. That would be good, yeah. You nod slowly and languidly unwrap yourself from your blankets.

He wants to ask but he refrains, so you just take his hand and guide him into the bathroom with you. He’s very thankful you do.

He gets the shower started for you, letting it get warm how he knows you like. You watch the steam begin to fog up the mirror as he pulls his shirt off next to you.

He gets down to his boxers when he turns to you and sees that you’ve made no progress in removing any of your clothes. You just stand still, watching the water run.

“Sweetheart?” He calls out gently. “You need help?” He tries to hide the concern in his voice, though not to much avail.

You blink vacantly, “No, I just…” you waver for a moment before climbing into the shower, clothes on.

He stutters between stopping you and letting you go, ultimately deciding on the latter. He follows in after you, sitting side by side with you under the stream of hot water. He has to fold in on himself to fit like this but he doesn’t think twice about being here with you, however you need him. 

Your clothes darken quickly and adheres to your skin, and you find it difficult to tear your eyes away from that patch of your shirt that remains ever so slightly darker than the rest of the wetted fabric.

Jason picks your hand up from its resting place on your stomach and envelopes it in his. You close your eyes and let the water run over your face, sprinkling off your eyelashes.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, sounding nearly in pain.

Your head falls to the side, coming to a rest on his shoulder. The water pounds against your ear, stray drops ricocheting against your cheek. You squeeze his hand and he returns the action, understanding the temporary sentiment. He kisses your head and keeps his lips there, eyes closed too. 

You’ll stay like that in the shower until the heat runs out. He’ll help you out of your soaked clothes and leave them in the tub for now before lifting you up and wrapping you in a towel. He’ll set you down on the bed and apply a bandage to your cut as delicately as he possibly can. Neither of you bother to get dressed again, simply enveloping yourselves in the covers and lying together like that until you’re ready to move.

He didn’t go out on patrol again for nearly two months.

💙 REBLOGGING = SUPPORTING 💙

[montagoves]

heaven | jason todd

genre: smut (fem! reader!) 18+

warning: oral (male! receiving), slight degradation, small mention of munch jason <3

summary: jason’s version of heaven is his pretty girl on her knees

a/n: i don’t like giving bjs but if jason were mine my mouth would be open 24/7

Jason’s never been to Heaven, but he swears it looks just like this. 

You were on your knees in front of your bed, tears in your eyes as your pretty little lips wrapped around the first few inches of his cock. He groaned at the sight, wanting to close his eyes but forcing himself to keep them open. He couldn’t miss one moment of this.

Jason was a little weary at first when you asked him to fuck your face. He knows he’s bigger than average, and you already gag when giving him a blowjob on your own. But you asked him so sweetly, reassuring him that you’d be able to handle it. And how could he refuse his sweet girl of what she so desperately wanted?

“Takin’ me so well, sweetheart,” he let out in a low murmur, his hand reaching out to twirl a finger around a lock of your hair. He groaned quietly when your eyes seemed to gleam at the praise, wet eyelashes fluttering for him. God, you were already struggling to take him. His strong, brave girl. 

“Can you go further?” he asked, his hand slowly moving to the back of your head. He didn’t move yet, just tangling his fingers within the locks. You inhaled shakily through your nose, giving him a small hum of agreement. “Good girl… so good f’me.”

Jason pushed his hips forward slowly, watching another thick inch of him disappear past your lips. He bit his lip back, staring as your eyes closed momentarily. 

“Nuh, uh. None of that. Eyes on me, ‘kay, sweetheart?” Jason gruffed, gently tugging your hair. Your eyes fluttered open and your soft, gentle hands placed themselves on his outer thighs. You looked back up at him, Jason’s heart racing at the sight. 

“You’re gonna keep those pretty eyes on me while I use your mouth, yeah?” he questioned, feeling you squeeze his thighs as a sign of confirmation. He smiled, his grip tightening slightly on your hair. 

Then, without warning, Jason began to thrust his cock into your mouth. Sweet whines and gagging noises left your mouth as he fucked your face, your sounds only spurring him on more. Jason groaned, pausing for a moment. 

“F-Fuck, we should’ve done this sooner…” he grumbled, his chest heaving a bit. “Knew you’d look all cute like this f’me, too.”

In response, you nuzzled your nose against the short curls at the base of his cock. With your eyes still on his, you swallowed around his head, your throat constricting around him deliciously. Jason let out a shaky moan, not wasting another second before resuming his fast-paced thrusts. 

“W-Where the fuck did you learn to do that?” he breathed, feeling his cock twitch as he bordered the line of release. “Fucking naughty. Bet you like being used like this too, huh? W-Wanted to be my cumslut so bad. All you had to do was ask, sweetheart.”

The tip of Jason’s cock was hitting the back of your throat with each thrust, the tears in your eyes now streaming down your cheeks. With one final buck of his hips, he let out a guttural moan, his body leaning forward. He caught himself on the mattress with one hand, his other hand still holding your head to his pelvis. He breathed heavily, his head bowing down to look at you.

You whimpered at the new angle, Jason’s thighs pushing against your shoulders and keeping you trapped against the side of the bed. Your eyes were still on his as his cock remained in your mouth, his hot cum filling those cheeks of yours. 

He could spend forever admiring you like this. 

But he wasn’t a complete sadist, and he knew you needed a break after your first time doing this. He pulled out of your mouth, watching a line of spit connect his tip to your bottom lip. 

“The damn prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he mumbled, his grip on your hair loosening as he began to fix the strands. “You okay, sweetheart? Better have swallowed all of me up.”

You nodded, mouth opening as Jason moved to kneel in front of you. You stuck your tongue out, and Jason leaned forward to tangle his tongue with yours, tasting himself on you and your lips. 

“Atta girl,” he murmured against your lips, kissing you once more before suddenly picking you up by the backs of your thighs. You gasped as he moved to lay back on the bed, pulling your hips up to hover over his face. 

“My turn, now. Make sure to get comfy and sit all the way down, sweetheart. Gonna be here a while,” he said, easing your thighs apart with his elbows so your pussy was mere inches from his mouth. “I’m a slow eater,” he grinned before pulling your hips down and burying his face in your sweet pussy.

[dollishmehrayan]

I feel like a reason why jason todd will always be misunderstood as a character and person forever is because his emotional side of his character is so deep like genuinely it’s so deep where’ll you will think to yourself, he has plenty of sides as a character to a point it’s so pointless to try to capture his emotions in a movie or a simple writing, like genuinely imagine being tortured for 6 months - 2 years for doing good for your own city and when you come back you see someone has taken your spot and your death didn’t change anything, joker running free, batman with a robin and etc and nothing impacted on the city at all, as if you were never born and when you finally confront the closest thing you have to a father he just says “I can’t, I’m sorry..” when you poured your heart out so your emotions and pain doesn’t cloud your mind and feeling like you just born to be nothing, from coming from a semi abusive household in poverty and a trying biological father who can’t make ends meet and a addict mother to fending on the streets to resort to stealing car tires not knowing how long you’ll make it until your next meal to then becoming the mantle of robin and having pressure to live up to the past one too, it genuinely cannot be captured jason Todd’s character is so emotional and deep honestly I can talk about it for hours, and especially seeing no mourning stage ── .✦ if double perspective were two people it would be Bruce and jason, it’s a problem when you have the same hearts and different minds as some say double edged sword. Characters can be so fucking deep even then how we can compare to humanity, I genuinely wonder how deep his character goes, it’s part of the reason why so many people feel drawn to him I genuinely cannot express how much I feel that I think the whole ‘red hood’ confession was super shorten too because what do you mean that was it!?!?, like I genuinely get Bruce’s point he can’t kill because he’ll never stop once he starts but I feel like it just wasn’t right and how he expressed why he couldn’t to a “I can’t, I’m sorry (a bit of etc)” knowing jason would’ve killed anyone for bruce in a heartbeat but when the table turns bruce just couldn’t and if one think hurts it definitely loving someone but knowing they wouldn’t do the same for you, it a pistol. To. Your. Head. It’s the worst kind of love one can handle ever I think but in the interactive movie you could see jason about to do it but yk ofc Tim and etc but it just doesn’t make sense how jason fulfilled Bruce’s wishes/ morals but bruce couldn’t fulfill Jason’s. -dollish

[porcalinecunt]

ak!jason craving his back alley surgeon (ftm) so much that it physically hurts not to just fuck him right in the middle of their session ,,

021 𐙚 KINKTOBER — 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆

🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩 the arkham knight remained touch starved for too long, so he turns to his nagging yet stupidly cute back alley surgeon! ~

⋆˚࿔ FEATURING . . 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ AK! JASON TODD X MALE! READER

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . cw — ftm!reader. dubcon. rough oral sex. throat breeding. throat bulge. fingerings. touch starved jason. past mentions of torture/injuries.

[・:。author’s note ! 「 ✉️ 」・𓂃 ࣪˖ ] i do NOT know how to write endings ;-; but omg anon, i RAN to write this the moment i saw this request! ak!jason todd lives in my head rent free :<

he forgot what normal touch felt like, if it even existed in the desolate gotham city.

and you can’t blame him, the last thing he ever felt were the joker’s ghostly white hands tearing at his skin with any rusty metal he could get his hands on. the burning hot iron engraving a capital J on his cheek.

getting shot on camera in a snuff was somehow the least worst thing that happened to the knight.

naturally, the acidic lake of the lazerous pit only harden his outer shell, rendering him mentally cut off to the concept of affection. hell, he wouldn’t even let the nurses within militia grounds even touch him. grumbling that he can take care it himself with a simple twist of a broken limb or a faulty cauterized wound.

or a visit to your back alley clinic.

after a hellish night of shockwaves and stitches, jason properly met you after you saved his life from a particularly lethal mission. unlike the kind nurses though, you were cold and a little vile. spouting exhausted quips about how ‘braindead’ and ‘reckless’ he was, and how he was a pain in your ass. ah, a vile little bitch. the arkham knight thought.

yet, he couldn’t bring himself to hate you. oh no, despite the sharp tongue, your shockingly soft hands revive a need jason thought he abandoned after his death. he found himself looking forward to the checkups, to your palms resting against his scarred chest and broad shoulders. fingers pressing against his more delicate spots, allowing his mind to wander to the nastiest places.

how delicate was the rest of you?

a question that got him gripping the metal table as you did another checkup on him, making sure he didn’t measly tear off any of the wrapping or bandaids.

jason’s breath hitched once your fingers ghosted over his abs, his chest and his thighs. it didn’t help that with every slight move, he grew harder and harder in his pants. you were fucking teasing him, even if it wasn’t intentional. his boner was growing more obvious and it was like you were purposely playing dumb, agitating the knight.

“shit..fuck it.”

he uttered, sitting up despite your failed attempts to keep him down.

“mister todd, what are you?!- HEY!”

a harsh push threw you far back, stumbling onto the dirty sofa chair while jason quickly followed. you could barley process what was going on when the sound of a belt buckle made you freeze.

“sorry doc, got a problem i can’t fix on my own..”

jason muttered as his pants dropped to his ankles along with his boxers, revealing his ‘problem’. you couldn’t think of anything to say, only stare at his ridiculous girth and his swollen tip leaking precum as it ran down to the base.

“mister todd..—“

“please. c’mon doc..”

he was practically begging, a tone that went straight into your soaked cunt. you had to hold back from straight up palming yourself through your pants. a defeated sigh left your lungs as you leaned forward off the couch and onto your knees. a risky kitty lick snapped the rope of control in jason, a heavy metal hand clasping the back of your head, forcing his dick into your jaw.

he was too big, way too big. your poor mouth was practically stuffed with cock as the knight didn’t let you pull back for a moment. “nose, doc..breath through your nose.” jason sighed, slowing pushing further and further until he was nestled into your throat. a static groan leaked through his gritted teeth, a sound that made you flinch with anticipation.

with eyes screwed shut, you couldn’t even look at him as he pulls his length back only to shove it right back into the jugular, slowly picking up his already relentless pace. the sloshing noises of your spit and his cum mixing filled your ears until your patient’s groans practically drowned out.

gobs of the nasty mix spilled off his soaked dick and through your swollen lips, along with tears that blurred your vision and salted the taste of the knight’s girth. it was all humiliating in the best way possible, you were fucking getting off to it. made you wonder how long he was imagining this very scenario.

“get up.” he suddenly commands with a booming tone, pulling you off his cock with a handful of your hair. “w-wha..?”

“you fuckin’ heard me. get up or i’ll fuck that cunt of yours.”

barley a promise, knowing how fickle the knight is. yet you still followed his command, standing up as he pushed you down onto the metal operation table with your front facing the ceiling. jason, dick still hard and bobbing around as he walked to where your head hung off the edge.

“gonna make you extra useful doc, if you’re okay with that..” he asked with a ragged breath. you were too fucked out to give a proper answer other then a pathetic “uh huh…” with your tongue stuck out. you couldn’t even get another sound out before he stuffs your mouth full once again, this time, with a desperation for an orgasm.

gripping the sides of the metal table, jason thrusts his dick in and out of your throat, a small bulge forming yet visible enough for him to admire.

“atta boy, you’re not bad f’ a doctor..shit..!”

he laughed, listening to your whines and gagging as you rub your thighs together for a source of friction. all this time, you were left neglected as jason used your throat as a free fleshlight. with shaking hands, you reached down through the band of your pants and ran your fingers through your needy little pussy.

“mmm..mister todd..”

you muttered, fucking your fingers into your soaked cunt as you felt his cock twitch in your mouth. he was gonna cum.

“mouf..cum in m’mouf..!” you weakly uttered, earning a mocking coo from the knight. “yeah? you want me to cum in your mouth? ‘course doc..” he panted, his pace growing more relentless somehow.

“consider this returning the favor, f’ being so good to me.”

with a couple more thrusts and some jerkin’ off, a white hot liquid spurted in your mouth and down your throat. heavy and salty was all you can taste as he practically bred your throat full.

jason pulled himself out, watching as gobs of his cum and your spit spill out from your lips and all over your fucked out face. he wished he could take a picture of it just to have something to jerk off to when he can’t sleep.

“so..see you next week?”

© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[blu3n]

You felt tired, exhausted, because that kept happening. Jason never showed his emotions no matter how much you said you loved him, that you were there for him, that you would understand him, that you tried hard for that at least.

It wasn't that simple for Jason, not for someone like him who felt like he didn't deserve that feeling (love). Seeing families smiling, houses being perfect. He couldn't believe that something so magical and pure could be his.

You were so perfect, so perfect that he didn't think he deserved you. He would catch himself in the middle of the night looking at the goat discreetly seeing his wonderful woman lying in bed in the middle of the night. "Oh God...how I love her..." he would say so quietly that not even he could hear.

But when you were here, looking at him saying how hurt you were because he didn't show you how he felt... he felt panic, his heart was beating desperately. How could his... his... his beloved leave him? He couldn't. He couldn't.

"Look... I'm sorry but I-" You tried to continue but what you heard made you stop... were those? sobs?, looking at Jason you saw him crying. Kneeling at his feet. That six-foot-tall man was crying at his feet. He looked so broken that his chest immediately twisted.

"Please choose me. Nobody ever chooses me. Please.." he said as he sobbed, his chest felt crushed so hard that he didn't know how to describe it, knowing that his beloved, the love of his life was leaving him was like losing his breath.

"Please, please, I...I love you, I know I'm hard to deal with, I have my crises, I'm terrible at showing affection, but please, stay, please love me. I would hate to lose you."

You held him in your arms, so tightly that he felt safe that night. You felt that this time he would know that someone would be there with him. Forever.

😭- oh my god I just cried over this.

I will be doing the asks, yes, I will, but I wanted to do this so much

@blu3n - my authorship

[smutinlove]

Please give me more size kink hcs for Jason!!!

Especially with fem!reader who's 5ft tall 👀

you ask, i deliver, babe.

lowercase is intentional

•this man is a FREAK. he is 6 feet tall, meaning he literally floats over you. and this man is big and strong. he could pick you up easily, and that thought makes him go feral.

•speaking of ferality, this man loves pinning you against a wall. i can envision it right night. his hand holding you in place while the other travels down your body, tracing your curves.

•ugh, am i screaming? yes. on the topic of sounds, this man GROANS will fucking you. and he sounds so hot. just imagine this: missionary position; he's on top of you, jason is covered in sweat, and his cock buried deep inside you while you pant out his name. and he's groaning and grunting, going deeper and deeper inside you. his main goal? to absolutely RUIN your tiny ass.

•okay, okay, headcanon: jason isn't the type of man to use toys, but he will use handcuffs. why? because it gives him a high. a feeling of control over you while he tortures your cunt.

•im ngl, i feel like he's the type of man who will do it anywhere. imagine this: you're at a gala, wearing a tight dress that accentuates your curves. ugh, jason's hands are kept firmly at your waist, occasionally pulling you closer to him whenever you even slightly move an inch. and he's just all over you. like, he's smelling your perfume, burying his head in the crook of your neck, and by the end of the night, you two are in bruce's office, fucking like animals.

•and also, he's just towering over you. he's pulling your hair, tugging you closer to him.

•im thinking of shower sex rn. omg, jason just casually wandering into the shower will you're in there. and he's naked and starts grinding against your ass.

•his hands planted on your waist, his head buried in the crook of your neck as cold water trickles down both of your bodies.

[in-som-niyah]

ok another floating thought:

Jason Todd does not tolerate bad eating habits.

Iced coffee for breakfast? Absolutely not.

6pm and you had not a single sip of water? Forget it.

Having a single slice of toast for lunch AND dinner? Naur babes.

You will be eating 3 square meals a day will allowance for snacks and 'happy foods' as he likes to call them.

As soon as you complain about a headache, stomachache, light-headedness, fatigue he will tell you to go fucking eat something with a glass of water, not coffee.

Its even worse if you live together like i strongly believe he would wake up early just to make you a balanced breakfast before you go about your day.

GOD BUT IF UR IN UNI??? babe be ready bc he will break into your dorm to bring u food that he cooked u himself. (he's a loverboy duh)

no time to cook or order? He's gotchu

too tired? already on the way

exam season with barely any time to take a breath? already on it babe he'll spoonfeed you while you revise your textbook

and plus, how else are you supposed to grow as big and strong as him when you're only eating half a meal a day?

I WANNA MUNCH ON HIS MOOSCLES SO BAD FUCKKKKK

[jellofish-plant]

Kitchen Chaos

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: Cooking dinner together was supposed to be romantic, but with Jason in the kitchen, it turns into a chaotic mess. Between playful bickering, stolen kisses, and a few near-disasters, you wonder if you’ll even get to eat tonight.

[Masterlist]

"You’re going to burn the garlic," you warned, eyeing Jason as he stood at the stove, stirring a pan with far too much confidence for someone who had nearly set the toaster on fire last week.

Jason scoffed, waving the spatula dismissively. "Please. I know what I’m doing."

At that exact moment, a loud sizzle erupted from the pan, followed by a sharp pop! Jason jumped back, nearly knocking into you, as oil splattered onto the stove.

You raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, totally an expert."

He groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Okay, maybe I mostly know what I’m doing."

With a laugh, you nudged him aside and took over. "Let me help before you burn the apartment down."

Jason didn’t argue, but instead wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder as you stirred the pan properly. "You know, this is nice," he murmured. "Domestic. Kinda cute."

"You’re only saying that because I saved dinner."

"That, and you look really good cooking in my shirt."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t fight the smile that tugged at your lips. "Flattery isn’t going to distract me from the fact that you almost ruined dinner."

"Can’t blame a guy for trying."

Jason pressed a kiss to your shoulder before finally letting go, moving to chop vegetables though you had to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn’t cut his fingers off. It was messy, full of teasing and bad jokes, but somehow, you both managed to put together a halfway decent meal.

As you sat down to eat, Jason took a bite and hummed in approval. "Not bad. Guess I make a pretty good sous-chef."

"You mean I saved dinner," you corrected, pointing your fork at him.

"Semantics," he said with a grin. "Either way, I think we make a good team."

And as much as you hated to admit it, he was right.

[hanasnx]

Hop hop 🐇 strutting around Jay's apartment in nothing but panties and his leather jacket that's still warm from his body 🐇 hop hop

-doe 🐾

JASON TODD shirtless and in gray sweatpants and a thin silver chain around his neck, manspreading in his seat as he annotates on some blueprints. The Bat left quite an impression on him, including his knack for being thorough. The cap of his sharpie sits between his teeth, the soft squeaking of the marker scribbling on parchment filling the room. Even though you got laid this morning, you should be good, but instead you’re especially needy. He’d gotten back a little bit ago from picking up those blueprints, and the leather bike jacket he wore on his motorcycle ride had been thrown on the bed haphazardly. Crawling out in just your undies, you were chilly, so you put the jacket on. It sat on your shoulders like a curtain. Heavy, and huge, and stiff. Still warm from his body heat, it provided enough protection to pad out to see him.

It takes him a second to notice you, and when he does, that famous grin stretches onto his lips. Hopelessly attractive with defined dimples and smile lines that could kill, crookedly smiling at you with that cap in between his pearly white teeth. “What’re you doin’ over there, baby? C’mere.” He snips the cap from his mouth between his fingers like a cigarette, and you obediently come to his beckoning hand and inviting lap. You sit on his thigh, and the rigid material of the jacket stands up on its own. He snickers at you. “Whose jacket is that, babycakes?”

Timidly, you concede, “My Jay’s…”

It amuses him further, giving you a soft look with a flash of his raised brows. “Yeah? S’your Jay’s?” he mimics your melodic response in a twinge of a mocking tone out of endearment. “It’s, uh, little big for you, huh? Your Jay a big guy?” He wasn’t gonna let this go, and you fidget with your hands, looking up at him with those glossy doe-eyes. While he talks, a single finger moves aside the leather to get a peek at your bare chest.

“Huge.” you tell him with stars in your eyes, gesturing size with your hands, and it makes him laugh again, particularly inclined to adore you with a kiss on your cheek.

[cindol]

Request: Jason has a pic of you in his wallet. You aren’t dating anymore but he still has the picture and keeps it tucked there.

oh this a juicy one, as u wish anonnie !

cw + — angst, fluff, jay is very delulu,

jason carries a picture of you everywhere even when the relationship fizzled out and the aftermath was done. He carried a polaroid picture of you when out on patrol with dick.

while concerning as it is that his teen brother hadn’t still gotten over the breakup with you it was cute how he kept that photo of you in his dingy brown wallet.

“not afraid it’ll just fall out that damn wallet? It’s practically falling apart.” dick pointed his gloved hands to the wallet in jason’s hand, it was dusty and looked like it went through a lot but still holding up.

jason just shrugged his shoulders in a whatever way.“had it for four years, i think it can hold out for just another year.”

“you’re not some old fart jay, get a new wallet since i’m sure you don’t want that pretty picture falling out off this roof.”

now he has a new black and dark red wine colored wallet with your picture inside placed with a red rose and it sticks out obvious when he’s out on patrol with bruce this time.

at his lowest of low times when beaten bloody in a chair at joker’s hostage he’s still thinking of you, now with his wallet scattered across the cold basement floor in a corner.

[forwards-beckon-rebound]

jason todd instagram hcs

basics

his account's private

he created it around the same time he first knew about you

yes, he did do it because he realized it's probably weird for him to not have any sort of social media

and then randomly posted 2 things so he looked interesting (the shirtless pic may or may not be intentional and obviously the books to show his intellectual side or whatever)

really really bad with social media and all of the naming stuff (i mean are we surprised)

followers + following

mostly his family, friends, and other vigilantes he's worked with

literally whooped with joy the day wonder woman requested to follow him and he would not shut up about it

only person he's following is you ofc (he has a burner account so he can follow people and make sure his brothers aren't doing stupid stuff but he won't admit it)

highlights

yes he does refer to you as his wife to anybody who will listen (and even if they don't he'll still try to anyways)

it's a lot of photos of you guys on dates, some candids of you, basically whenever he thinks you look pretty (all the time) and you let him post the photo

i don't really see him being particularly sappy with his words so he probably just writes like "with my girl" or "date night" or something simple like that

and then some like classic rock song in the bg

honestly idrk what nunya is, i just thought it'd be funny to use that pic for something

probably him hanging out with his friends or random funny stuff he sees

will beat up a guy and then be like "lol went to check this guy's id and his name is deadass buford"

dog is of course photos of your dog, dog!! you guys share custody of her and you would kill anybody for her

there are some photos of him and dog that you've taken

but a lot of them are of you and dog

he likes to go through his wife and dog highlights when he's away on missions and stuff like that (but also he definitely has folders with way more photos on his phone)

posts

he doesn't post that often

but when he does it's usually of you lmfao

definitely posted the third pic from the bottom up when you guys got together

you took the photos of him for him and convinced him to post his to his instagram for once

the book he's reading is actually one you recommended

you guys have a mini book club between the two of you (you guys just read and annotate books and then trade)

you got him the harley davidson jacket because you figured he should have different jackets when he's going out as red hood and as jason todd or else he's not gonna have a secret identity for very long

he's kind of obsessed with it

accidentally got some sort of theme going on? you think it's so funny because this man didn't even know that instagram themes were a thing

dick ver.

[thesandsofelsweyr]

Could you write fic based off of this img

《 ALSO ON AO3 》

Comments & kudos on ao3 are much appreciated, as are reblogs here on Tumblr! ❤️

The red hot branding iron was inches away from his other cheek when he woke with a choked gasp. His ragged breath was running away from him while his heart pounded like fists against his ribcage. His wide, pale blue eyes blinked frantically, adjusting to the darkness, trying desperately to latch onto something—anything—that didn’t belong in his dank, dark prison cell. A bed, he told himself. His chest rose and fell as if he was running a marathon. He swallowed hard. I’m in a bed. The only bed he’d known in Arkham was the cold, hard, filthy wood floor of his cage. But he could still feel the intense heat radiating off the cruel metal onto his tender, unbranded cheek; the Clown’s maniacal cackle still echoed in his ear. He clawed at his pillow, pulling it over his head as if he could hide from his master, as if he could drown out the grating laugh that would haunt him even after he was rotting away in his grave.

“He’s dead,” he panted as his body shook like a leaf in a hurricane, “he’s dead, he’s dead, I’m free,” he repeated, but icy terror still clutched at his throat as his mind refused to believe the words. The walls of the dark room seemed to close around him, swallowing him back down into the bowels of Arkham Asylum, where his master was waiting to punish him again. He choked back a scream. Tears burned at the corners of his eyes, which he screwed shut. “Not again,” he whimpered helplessly. “Please don’t do it again.”

His muscles were as taut as a grappling cable. Cold sweat drenched his entire body. He pulled shuddering knees to his chest, curling into the fetal position, as if he could protect himself from the crowbar in the Clown's lavender-gloved hands. 

A pair of ungloved hands slid beneath the crooks of his arms, and he squealed in terrifying despair.

“Shh,” a voice whispered, as soft as satin, as gentle as a breeze. Then the warmth of an embrace enveloped him, dragging him out of hell.

“I-I’m sorry…” he stammered, sniffling. Warm tears trickled down his cheeks, which flamed red with embarrassment. “I-I didn’t mean to wake you…”

She squeezed him even tighter, curling herself around him, wrapping him up in a cocoon of protection. Her heart beat steadily against his mutilated back, and he grounded himself with the comforting sensation; the reminder that he was needed, that he was loved. 

“It’s okay, baby,” she murmured sleepily. “You’re safe. I’m here…” She placed a tender kiss against his trembling shoulder, and his body relaxed in her arms. “I got you.”