Distracted
Pairing - Jason Todd X (F) Reader
Words - 1.1K
Warnings - SMUT 18+ - Graphic Sexual Content - Oral M!Receiving - Swearing.
Notes - I’m in a mood. I’m a little drunk. This hasn’t been edited so if you see any mistakes shush, they’re totally not there. Also, I love you 💕
MASTERLIST
**
You don’t know how he does it.
How he can make you twist your fingers around the sharpened edge of distracted. Sink neck deep into something desperate, something hungry.
You would have thought that you’d get this way from seeing him in action, from watching him use all his perfect strength and intellect to protect those who need it.
But for fucks sake, he’s sat on the sofa reading, and you want to sink your teeth into his jugular and never let go.
**
His legs are propped up on the coffee table, feet crossed at the ankle.
Jason holds his book with one hand, careful to rest it in such a way that he can flip the page with his thumb. His other hand absentmindedly plays with your hair, silently switching from twirling the strands around his fingers, to scratching soothingly at your scalp. The sensation has your eyes rolling into the back of your skull, goosebumps prickling up your arms.
Nimble fingers hook into the elastic waistband of his grey sweatpants and Jason quickly stops playing with your hair.
“What are you up to, baby?” He asks, there’s an accusatory note lacing his words and you fight to keep the self satisfied smirk from your face, even though you know he can’t see it.
“Shh, go back to reading your book, Jay.” You answer, voice thick, heated. “I jus’ want to take care of you, that’s all.”
He hums in response, clearly not fully convinced–you don’t exactly blame him. You know that he’s clever enough to catch on the slight hints you throw him, subconsciously or otherwise. This has happened before, except usually, you are the one on the receiving end of his wickedly talented mouth.
Tugging at the soft fabric Jason lifts his hips, allowing you to pull it down far enough to free his half hard length.
He’s not wearing any boxers and you feel your pussy getting wet.
Quickly taking the tip between your lips you suckle gently and dip your tongue into his sticky pink slit. The noise that leaves Jason’s throat is stuck halfway between a moan and a hiss, you can’t see him, but you know he’s biting his lip, eyes fluttering closed when your hand curls around the base of his thick girth.
You feel him twitch against your tongue, cock fattening up between your spit slick lips. The taste of him has you moaning, has you thinking you’re drunk, tipped over the edge of rational thought and falling fast into hungry arousal.
If you could, you’d swallow him whole.
Coming free with a wet pop you lick a firm stripe from base to tip and swirl your tongue around the fat, flushed head of his pretty cock.
“Read your book, baby.” You encourage, spitting on the tip and letting your drool slide down his length. Giving him a firm pump with your hand you revel in the soft gasp that slips out from between his teeth. “C’mon, Jay. Y’wanted to read, didn’t you?”
His reply is a garbled moan of your name, voice lost in his heaving chest when you take him into your mouth again and start bobbing your head, hand quickly pumping what you can’t make fit.
Under your hand Jason’s hips flex and you press against him firmly, shoving him back into place so you can continue sucking him off. Above you he groans, thighs tensing like he’s holding himself back from stuffing the entirety of his thick cock into your hot, wet mouth.
“Can’t exactly concentrate on reading when you’ve got my dick in your mouth, sweetheart.” He finally grits out, one hand sweeping your hair away from your face and the other still holding tightly onto his book.
Pulling off his cock again you press soft kisses down his throbbing length, tongue coming out to press against the thick vein running up the underside.
The elastic of his sweatpants sits snug under his full balls and you can’t fight the urge to lick and suck at them until he’s gasping and whining, hips trying relentlessly to shove up against your mouth for more pressure.
Swallowing his cock your lips split wide around his girth, jaw aching with the strain. You try to fit him all in your mouth but you can’t, he’s too big, too thick. The tip touches the back of your throat and you gag, spit leaking from the corners of your mouth.
Jason’s hand rests heavy on the back of your head, “C’mon, baby. Y’can take me all in that pretty mouth of yours, can’t you?” Trying again you sink down and your drool rolls down his flushed balls, soaking the soft fabric of his sweatpants. “You’re so messy, sweetheart. M’gonna have to change once you’re done.”
Pulling back slightly you settle into an easy rhythm, hand stroking what you can’t make fit in your mouth. Jason’s hips kick up to match your pace, soft little moans and groans escaping his lips when you suck at his cock and twist your wrist.
Settling with just his fat, weeping tip in your mouth you roll your tongue over the sensitive head and give a pleased hum when Jason jolts, throwing his head back, fingers making a tight fist in your hair. Licking into the sticky slit you moan when the heavy taste of him fills your mouth.
“M’gonna come if you keep doing that.”
Good.
Dropping your hand you play with his heavy balls, tugging and rolling them in your palm. Above you, Jason calls your name, voice almost breathless, in the back of your head, you think this is what he would sound like if he was drunk.
His thighs shake under you and you feel his balls pull up tight just before he comes.
The taste of him floods your mouth as his length twitches and throbs in your mouth, cock pumping out rope after rope of his sticky come. Suckling softly at the tip you swallow everything he gives you. Pushing against his hip as he continuously rocks steadily into your mouth you guide him down, cock softening against your tongue.
Tucking him back into his sweatpants you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.
“Go back to reading your book, baby.” You smile, finally looking up to find Jason’s flushed cheeks. “Was just in the mood to suck you off, m’done now.”
Choking on a tired laugh Jason pats your head. “You’re something else, sweetheart.”
Without a word, he goes back to playing mindlessly with your hair and thumbing through the pages of his book. If it wasn’t for the sweat beading on his forehead, or the flush high on his cheeks, you wouldn’t know you’d had his cock in your mouth moments ago.
Suddenly throwing his book onto the coffee table with a bang Jason twists until you’re flat on your back.
“My turn,” He grins, “I’m in the mood to eat your pretty little pussy, I bet sucking me off got you all wet and sticky, huh? Lemme take care of you.”
**
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There's a lot of validity in the idea that older Bakugo is a traumatized pro-hero with major PTSD... but you know what's kinda fucked up to think about? The fact that Bakugo is also a 22-year-old pro-hero with major PTSD even before that, too.
It's almost easy to imagine that things are actually better when he's older (the therapy finally a routine, the trauma long set and on the path to being healed)... and that it's his whole 20s that are spent as a pool of disaster trying to recover from the war(s).
He looks back and barely even remembers being twenty, much less twenty-five or twenty-seven. Barely remembers how little he slept, not at the hands of trying to balance hero work and getting a degree at the same time, but just out of the pure insomnia that came from trying to move on and every nightmare attached.
Hardly ever showering, never shaving (not that he ever grew much of a beard, but the facial hair was definitely there. There's pictures of him on the news with an awkward, grown out haircut and patches on facial hair that make him look positively... immature), barely even eating more than a few protein bars or an energy jelly drink-a day. It's a blur, and his friends are hardly there to pick him up out of it because they're all going through it, too. Somewhat.
It's definitely weird if you meet him during this period. He's not all there, at least, not all of the time. He doesn't really register your interactions, the friendship you extend to him (a younger, or ever older, version of him would've shown you that deep seeded ferocity in response, tried to bite the hand that fed him, even if it were love... but 20s Bakugo... doesn't seem to notice). Even though only one of his eyes is clouded over, the good one never seems to brighten up.
There's definitely moments when the old him shines through: when he's with Deku, when he's in the midst of battle, when he finds out that Todoroki still does a shitty job at chopping scallions. But it's a long time before he's even close to the same, able to step out from underneath the fog of simply surviving and into the sunshine of recovering.
But I think sticking through it with him is worth it.
(It's a weird moment, a happy moment, the first time you realize that Bakugo has changed. That the pouring rain outside hasn't bothered him since he showed up at your apartment. He forgot his umbrella, he's been quite careless ever since the war—wet and shaggy hair frizzed up, cheeks red from cold—but he doesn't seem to mind, with his bare feet up on your coffee table, his eyes gazing out the window. You hand his tea, and instead of gulping it down in one go, letting it burn in his throat, he winces at the heat.
"Tastes like shit," he says, and you laugh because it always does. Just this time, he noticed.)
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