Text
recent painting experiments! i literally have no idea what im doing ‼️‼️‼️
492 notes
·
View notes
Text
☆. contains: 18+ minors dni, best friend!jason todd x fem!reader, friends to lovers, petnames, thigh job, they're at the wayne mansion and jason is chasing the reader for funsies, jason has his y-scar (it's not actually mentioned but i just need everyone to know that he has it!!!) and his white streak as always, reader is wearing a skirt

how did you get here?
how did a cute, totally normal, totally casual study date turn into jason chasing you around the manor? you're lucky nobody else is here, other than alfred of course, but he knows to keep his distance whenever jason brings you over. you're not even together. you're just friends. right? friends definitely do this.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
it's another quiet day at the wayne manor. the fireplace is crackling softly in the background, the sun shining through the curtain is lighting up the spacious living room and one of the windows is cracked open, letting in the fresh autumn air. two big mugs with long forgotten tea sit on the table alongside the stacks of books and papers. you're laying down on the unnecessarily massive couch, computer on your lap, rows of words filling your vision. jason is sat on a fluffy pillow on the floor with his legs crossed and you can't help but wonder, how the hell is that a comfortable position for a big guy like him? you think about asking but he's so focused on his writing, you'd just feel bad for breaking his concentration. he looks good.
he's wearing simple black slacks and a beige knit sweater with his sleeved rolled up. his hair is a bit of a mess, almost like he just rolled out of the bed. cute. the white streak in his hair is as prominent as ever. it makes him look sexy. and mysterious. he doesn't really believe you, thinking that you're just making fun of him but he couldn't be more wrong. you think he's the prettiest boy you've ever seen.
after a couple of hours of mindfucking yourselves over the essay the both of you need to write for your shared literature class, you're tired. you're almost always the first one to break, jason being the nerd that he is. you can't blame him, though, he seems to thoroughly enjoy the class. good for him. nevertheless, you deserve a break.
"psst."
...
...
"pssst." you gently nudge him with you knee.
"hmm?" he grumbles and your stomach fills with butterflies. friends though, right?
you sit up from your position, close the computer and throw it aside on the couch. you move closer to him, placing your thighs right next to his head.
"jason..."
his green eyes stay glued to the screen.
"let's take a break, hm, please?" your fingers find their way into his dark curls and he tenses. for a moment there you think you've crossed a line but when he resumes his writing and stays quiet, you continue massaging his scalp.
"how far are you with yours, doll?" you think his voice sounds even gruffier just because you've spent the last hour in complete silence. the petname doesn't help with the butterflies either.
"mmm, i think that's very irrelevant, jace."
he lets out a deep chuckle as he finally tears his eyes from his computer and turns to meet your soft gaze with a small smile.
"well based on that answer alone, i don't think we, especially you, should take a break." his eyes shine at you in the gentle sunlight, making him look even more irresistible. "we need to get this done today, you know."
"i knoow, i know but my brain is fried." jutting out your bottom lip, you conjure the best puppy-eyes you can manage. "please?"
jason takes a second to compose himself, his strong sense of responsibility crumbling and crumbling fast.
"i'm pretty sure your pretty little brain was fried long before today." his voice sounds like honey and a killer sly smirk caresses his lips as he teases you. annoying.
your mouth falls open and you take your hand from his hair and smack him against his shoulder.
a loud laugh escapes his and your lips curve upward at the sound. the corners of his eyes crinkle and he lets his head drop back against your thigh. looking up at you with doe-eyes, he really is the prettiest boy in the world.
"that is so rude, jason. i can't believe it. you invite me over and then you just mock me." you huff. "i'm gonna go and tell alfred." you declare confidently, straightening your back.
he raises his eyebrow at you. "are you now?"
"mhmm." you chirp with a nod. "g'nna tell him that you're being mean to me." the way your looking down at him and the pout on your lips are making his heart do backflips in his chest.
suddenly something shifts. the cozy mood in the room has changed into something else entirely. there's a glint of mischief in both of your eyes and you know there won't be any studying happening now.
"yeah?" he asks, holding eye contact with you, voice low. his one hand creeps around your calf, as if knowing you're up to something.
"yeah."
...
feeling playful, you plan on doing the good old running-away-from-the-guy-you-have-a-massive-crush-on-in-order-to-stop-studying move.
you have the advantage of sitting behind him but he already has his hand on you. there's no easy way to break out of his grasp, you know that. you need a distraction. and a good one. without thinking about it twice, you lower your head and press a quick kiss right to his plump lips.
...
fuck.
...
you feel his grasp soften and you use the moment to escape. scrambling backwards over the back of the couch, you almost lose your footing, your head suddenly clogged with the realization of what you just did. you just kissed him. heat raises up from your neck and you feel the need to apologise but when you raise your head to do so, jason's already standing and staring at you with his eyes shade darker than the moment before. you sometimes forget how big he is, how intimidating he can look. he's so damn tall and broad and right now, he has his eyes on you, like a predator ready to pounce at his prey.
the side of his mouth twitches upward and a now cocky smirk adorns his face. you think you can spot a tint of pink splayed on his cheeks but that must be from the chilly breeze in the room. his eyes bore into yours and your legs feel weak, excitement making you tremble in front of him.
the two of you stand there for at least 30 seconds without saying a single thing. just staring each other down, trying to figure out what's going on in the other's head. jason finally decides to make the first move by taking a step towards the end of the couch and you instantly take one backwards. he stops to raise his brow at you and you flash him a daring smile.
the moment he takes another step, you quickly turn on your heel and start running towards the lobby, adrenaline making you faster than usual. you hear his thundering steps right behind you and you let out a loud shriek that probably echoes through the whole manor.
taking a sharp left turn, you make your way to the kitchen. you stop behind the island, jason opposite of you on the other side. you're already breathing heavy with a flushed face and pounding heart. jason isn't affected by the running at all. damn him.
you take a small step to your right and he takes one to his left. you take one back to your left and he one to his right. how are you ever supposed to outrun him? what were you thinking?
"where are you gonna run, darling?" he lays his big hands on the cool marble. the rolled up sleeves of his sweater are showing off the veins on his arms, making you do a double take. he doesn't miss that. "i know the manor better than you, hm. i'm faster than you."
"i- " you laugh weakly at your own inabilty to answer him. he's the one taking the steps now, ever so slowly, making you more and more nervous and hot. but mostly, fucking exhilarated. you're now just circling around the island while he keeps his dark eyes on you, watching your chest rapidly move up and down, taking in your cute wide eyes and the giddy smile.
since you can't even think of a response to him, you opt for running again. when you look back at him, you see him calmly stand in his place. he opens his arms and bows down slightly as to show you that he's giving you a head start. bastard.
you head through the door and down the big hallway, passing by the big paintings of the wayne family. you feel out of breath but the excitement keeps you going. turning your head back once more, you can't see him. can't hear him either.
fuuuuck.
you stop dead in your tracks, in the middle of the house. hands shaking, you try to think of a plan. you try to think where would he go or where would he try to ambush you. why does the wayne manor have to be such a fucking maze?
you know you can't actually outrun him, so maybe hiding will be a good strategy? where's alfred when you need him? he'd protect you from the big scary wolf that's chasing you. the big very hot wolf? you shake your head, trying to get rid of the ridiculous idea. picking one of the biggest rooms as your hideout, you decide on the library and proceed to quietly make your way there.
reaching your destination, you try to conceal yourself in the midst of the huge shelves, forever thankful for the readers of the family. desperately trying to catch your breath, you can practically hear your own heart pumping.
where is he?
a sudden hand over your mouth and another one around your waist answer your question for you.
"hi, darling." his breath burns against your ear. "found you."
you feel like you're going to pass out. you've never felt anything like this before. your whole body is vibrating with excitement and your eyes are twice the size they usually are. his big strong hands hold you in place, lifting you just a tad, leaving you barely on your tiptoes.
"did you really think you'd get away?" his voice is low and his question teasing as he noses at your cheek from behind. where did your sweet friend go and who is this?
you meakly shake your head against his hand and you feel him smile against your skin. he lowers his hand but keeps it just under your jaw. your lips part to let out a shaky breath and you wriggle in his arms, pushing back into him. now it's his turn to release a deep guttural groan. your hips back right into his and that's when you feel it. feel him. he gives you a squeeze before he grinds his pelvis into your ass.
"yeah, you feel that?" his breath tickles your cheek, your eyes closing and teeth sinking into your bottom lip. "you did this, sweetheart."
"mmmhm."
"fuck, you look so pretty today, doll. made it so hard to concentrate." he confesses with a shaky laugh. "couldn't even sit next to you, hah."
the way he's grinding into you is making soft mewls continually fall from your lips, his own groans sending chills down your back.
jason pushes you against one of the shelves and the feeling the wood against you, makes you snap out of your state of pleasure. you're not at home, nor at his place. you're at the wayne manor, for fuck's sake and what you're doing right now is terribly inappropriate. yes, the house is mostly empty but alfred could still step in here and catch you doing whatever this is. you adore the man, you wouldn't ever want him to think badly of you. so you sneak your hand to the hand holding your jaw and curl your fingers around his pinky.
"f-fuck, jason." fingers around his, you try to push him away but he won't budge. he only presses himself more onto you. his broad chest and strong arms caging you between himself and the shelf.
"alfred, h-he might come in." you try again. other than your weak words and fingers, you make no real effort to make him stop. you don't want him to. it feels too good. your adrenaline filled body needs his touch, craves it.
his only answer to you is dark quiet laugh.
"don't be silly."
the calloused hand on laid over your stomach now makes its way up and a surprised gasp echoes through the room when he starts massaging your tits. you can clearly feel his hard-on poking at your lower back.
"do you want me to stop, sweetheart?" he rasps, hands roughly kneading your chest. "i'll stop, if you want."
you furiously shake your head. "n-no--" a high-pitched moan abrupts your sentence when his fingers pinch one of your nipples.
"but you'll have to be quiet, hm?" he's still holding your head up high, face almost next to yours. "wouldn't want alfred to hear you, do we?"
"wouldn't want him to know what a good girl like you does in his precious library, hm? who likes to run around in her pretty little skirt instead of studying?"
your breath hitches when his hand drops from your chest and down to your clothed cunt. you're so wet, you can almost feel it drip down your thighs.
"who's letting me touch her like this, hm?"
slightly raising your skirt, jason gently pats just above your clit making your hips automatically buck into his hand. he chuckles at your neediness, although, he himself is so fucking hard, he might burst any second.
never in a million years he would've thought that this would happen. yes, he likes you. a lot. his brothers know it, alfred knows it, hell, even bruce knows it. he can't stop talking about you. boasting about you, complimenting you behind your back. and yes, he has jerked off to you. he's not proud of that but what else is he supposed to do? you're all he can think of. every single night he's fisting his leaking cock in the confines of his room, imagining your pretty lips around him. how you'd say his name, how you'd moan his name. how good you'd look under him. fuck, what you'd taste like? he wants to eat you out for his own damn pleasure, wants to feel your thighs around his head, shaking from overstimulation while you're mewling and whining. wants to see your eyes roll back, to see your back arch and to see you covered in hickeys. all marked up for him. sometimes he cums just to the mere thought of kissing you.
and now you're here. it all happened so fast. the kiss really did catch him off guard. it was a good distraction but he's still him, you shouldn't underestimate him. seeing the daring smile on your lips made him twitch in his pants.
his darling wants to play, hm? oh, he'll play with you, alright.
seeing your flushed cheeks and your heaving chest made it all even worse. and when your wide eyes dropped to his hands on the counter - how you seemed to hold your breath just for a moment, he knew you want this just as much as he does.
"f-fuck." you crane your neck and jason jumps at the oppurtunity to press a wet kiss on your neck.
you hear him unbuckling his belt and another surge of excitement runs through you. he lets his pants and boxers drop down to the middle of his thick thighs and then one of his hands is grabbing your hip again. he spits onto his free hand before giving his rock hard cock a couple of pumps. you barely catch the quiet whine falling from his lips. jason raises your skirt up from behind and puts his dick right below your cunt, between your thighs. there's a big sigh leaving both of your mouths at the contact.
your plush thighs feel like heaven around him. so warm and soft. oh, he'll never wanna stop after this.
he wraps his hand around your middle, pushing and pulling you against him while the other moves over your chest, holding you up to his chest. your hands take place on top of his, one going up to his wrist, the other trying to support yourself by holding onto the shelf.
the feeling of him between your thighs is new and surprising. the combination of his precum, spit and your own slick making it easy for him to slide back and forth, roughly drilling his hips into yours.
"j-jason..." you mewl at him, desperate for more.
and he knows exactly what you need. the hand holding onto your chest moves to your jaw, turning you to face him. your doe-eyes meet with his lust filled ones for a second before he leans down and presses his lips to yours. finally.
keeping a steady rhythm of rutting against you, he now pours all of his focus into the kiss. your first real kiss. the hand on your jaw is gentle, yet firm, and his lips feel oh, so soft. you can taste the tea from before and you're already addicted. you whimper into his mouth and he swallows it with pride. you're his now.
the hand on your waist slips down, under your skirt and into your soaked panties. his rough fingers begin drawing quick circles on your clit and your eyes roll all the way back into your head, mouth falling slack against his and you feel him smile.
the consistent sound of your hips colliding fill the library and with his hand now down your panties, you're finding it harder and harder to keep the noises falling from your mouth.
"shhh, sweetheart." he hushes against your lips. "you feel so fucking good. so sweet for me, hm, such a good girl."
he's now fully holding you up because your feet don't seem to work anymore. his words are like honey, drawing you in, closer and closer to your climax. you're coating his thick fingers and you can hear how wet you are.
"does it feel good?"
nodding your head in his grasp, your brain so overwhelmed and already turning into a mush under his touch.
"words, doll."
he squishes your cheeks together, your lips puckering and before you can even think of an answer, he presses his lips to yours again.
"mmppf-" your words are slurring. you can't help but think about how good he smells. "i-it's so go--."
with the pace of his hips never faltering, jason pushes his tongue into your mouth, licking the roof of your mouth, groaning into you. fuck, you feel amazing. he can't get enough.
"p-please... don't- don't stop."
having his dream girl panting against him, begging for him to make her feel good was not on his plan today but he did promise dick to try and be more spontaneous. this is his moment.
his own hips are now stuttering, breath getting stuck in his throat. he pulls away from your lips, trying to burn this image into his brain. your head lolling to his chest, eyes shut, brows furrowed and lips parted in a perfect little o-shape.
"look at me." he grumbles.
but you don't hear him, busy focusing on the fast approaching climax.
"please."
that pulls you back into the moment, back into his warm embrace. jason pleading is something... new.
"need to see your pretty eyes when i c-cum."
"p-please." slowly opening your eyes, it is now your turn to beg, the thought of him cumming because of you clouding your mushy brain. "wan' your cum, jace."
his dark eyes widen at that. who could've thought that you're such a good little slut?
"yeah?" the ego boost making his hips snap into your with so much force, you think that he's going to knock one of the shelves down.
"pleaaaase."
his fingers rubbing your clit, his hand on your jaw, his eyes on yours and his hips pounding into you finally make the band in your tummy snap.
jason watches in slow motion as your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open one last time. small hands pawing at his wrists and body trembling against his stronger and bigger one. his fingers keep at it, helping you ride out your high when his own hips suddenly stutter and he spills onto your soft thighs with a deep loud groan.
pulling you flush against him, he lets his head fall down into the crook of your neck and he sighs. arms still around you, not wanting to let you go.
as if you would go anywhere.
the room is quiet, just the two of you trying to catch your breaths, to calm your hearts. the sun peeks through the big window, painting the shelves and floor in it's light. everything feels... right.
you turn your head and press a kiss to the side of his temple, ignoring the way his cum is slowly dripping all the way down your thighs, leaving a wet stain on your socks.
jason's lips curve into a smile against your skin. "mine."

2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Big fan of angels being autistic btw. "How does an entity like that have a neurological condition" Well they can act like that. Angels having traits that read as autistic. Incomprehensible being trying for their best mimicry of human behavior. You understand
59K notes
·
View notes
Text
Be normal about your F/O
276 notes
·
View notes
Text
When your werewolf boyfriend accidentally knocks stuff over with his tail because it's wagging so hard when he sees you. ♡
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
(affirming myself in the mirror) if that fictional man was real he would fuck you. He would fuck you. You're his exact type. If he saw you he'd get a boner instantly. He would fuck you he would fu
55K notes
·
View notes
Note
cute bath with jason, candles and bubbles and light music playing and he’s sitting behind you and giving you kisses as you just talk about eachothers days
—
Time Written - 10:50 p.m
—
“I saw somewhere that they sell these trays that hang on the tub, like hooking on the edges. You can use it to read your book inside. With a glass of wine or tea, or scotch too.”
Rough fingers along your back rolled any remaining knots in your muscles, calloused hands gently stroking along the junction of our shoulder and neck.
“Scotch?” Jason huffs in amusement. “C’mon, y’know I’m not a scotch guy.”
“Whiskey, bourbon. Whatever,” you giggle, leaning your head forward as you swipe along any stray wet hair, only to feel his fingers completely halt.
“You forgot my tastes??” Jason expressed with complete shock at this horrifying discovery. “Baby, I’m hurt.”
Any further giggling was unavoidable as you see his face; twisted into mock pain, his lips formed into a tragic quiver as he gives his version of puppy dog eyes.
“An’ here I was, so very very proud of myself to drive all across town to that lush store you like so much, All for the bath salts!” Vocally expressing his pain, he clutched his chest in one hand, dramatically swooping his damp curls back to dress his palm over his forehead.
“Oh my god, Jason!”
“And they weren’t even on sale!” Jason continues on, leaning his head back further with feigned agony. “I spent good money on my woman, an’ she forgets that I’m a bourbon man!”
“Jason stop it!” You turn yourself just a little more, both hands coming out of the milky waters to settle along his upper arms.
“I got you that bottle of Four Roses earlier, I know what my man loves.”
Jason smirks whilst withdrawing his hands from their prior positions. He can’t help but laugh a little himself, lowering one of his hands under water to rest along your hip.
“What I love is that pretty look on your face, Doll.” He pinches your chin with feather-like softness before kissing you.
Coming home to this everyday; you, was a gift.
Getting to spend every minute in your intoxicating presence. What drug or alcohol could be possibly infect himself with when his brain provided such ecstasy with one look at you?
The lights were dimmed, the water still clung to its toasty warmth. The milky waters seeping with sweet soap, pearlescent powders, crushed oats and herbal oils.
An exquisite tastes of both lavender and honey soothing elegance, bodies dripping in glittering gold.
In some cases, you didn’t wanna do anything sexual when Jason came home. This bath, for example, both of you were naked yes, but it was possible to not think such thoughts in a precarious state.
Your one and only was home safe and sound, You loved nothing more.
Jason was more than okay with that.
If you weren’t up to it, neither was he. Vice versa.
A perfect, consensual balance.
This was much better than a book, even better than a drink. The sleep he always got after these baths were heavenly, nearly slumbering like a baby each time.
“After the day I’ve had, I prefer this right here instead of a drink.” Jason re-swipes his soaking wet hair back along his head, growing slightly irritated from his dipping curls dripping onto his face.
“What a way with words, handsome.” You smile as you turn your body slightly, letting your upper half settle more comfortably against his. His hand settles along your back, running soothing circles against your glistening skin.
“Jason.”
“Hm?”
“If I did buy you that bath tray, would this mean you’d read to me in here?”
“Probably,” he replies, pondering over which book exactly. Also if he believes he could be comfortable enough with literature in the tub.
“Might as well do some skincare too,” you ponder over the idea, to Jason’s confusion.
“Like, some eye masks or something. Make it a spa day.”
Jason remained… intrigued, adamant. Only eye masks he’s seen you use were those glittery jelly ones you put under your eyes. He’s tried them once, per your request. They weren’t bad, but he didn’t understand the uses to this day.
“You’re just giving Dick more things to talk about.” Jason chuckles, his eyes closing as your hand readjusts his sopping wet, snowy curl out of his face.
“As if he needs to know what we do. This is our time, remember?”
“Mhm.” He leans close, pressing a kiss along your cheek before leaning just a little lower, leaving a softer peck underneath your ear.
“Our time.” He murmurs, feeling your head lean against his touches.
“The day I can dress you in a bright pink robe—“
“Babe no.” Oh boy. “C’mon—“
“-With feather lining and fuzzy slippers. You’d look adorable!” Your purposefully cheery accent had him groaning your name in false irritancy against your neck, rolling his eyes.
“There’s no deal you can make with me for that to happen, Princess.”
“I can be very persuasive, Mister Todd,” your tone drops from its cheerful tease into a more slow, much familiar tune he was well accustomed to.
His chest rumbles with amusement, teal eyes narrowing with interest in your statement. You’re really eager for him to do such? Now you piqued his interest.
“I’d like to see you try, pretty girl.”
803 notes
·
View notes
Text
oh god i just gave this blog's url to people without realizing what the latest post before this is. Um. sorry!
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
🙋♂️I’m tryna put Jason in a collar and leash and fuck him from the back until he's drooling barking at crying
Like idk abt you but I think I could fix him and make him worse by doing that
I want to hear the tags jingle‼️
- 🌖
moon nonnie you fucking freak 😭 i hope i did good by you
tags: gn reader… everything in the req LOL, big subby jason
years into dating the man, and you’d learned each of your sexual preferences together. jason had come home countless nights after work with pent up emotions, taking them out on you. in turn, making walking the most difficult task in the world, come the following day.
but jason found out, through testing kinks and limits with you, that he enjoyed the feeling of being full, just as you did. even though the man towered over you, eyes dark to anybody who gave a spare glance in your direction, it was only you who had the ability to bring him down to a drooling mess.
he liked that he had no responsibility in the bedroom. he indulged in the fact that he only had to listen to you, and by doing so, you’d make him feel good in ways memorized to muscles.
all you had to do was put that pretty little collar around his neck, one that had your name in a little heart-shaped charm that dangled off of it, and jason todd would turn into the most obedient and listening man to exist.
"oh, fuck… please, need more," he begged with an arched back on his hands and knees. big and strong hands fisting the sheets beneath him of your shared bed. you, on your knees, were pushing as deep as you could into his hole that was trained by you. his words begging you to touch that spot deep inside of him that you’d introduced him to. the soft spot that switched a light in his brain and made him want to be used and abused by you.
you push as deep as allowed, thighs touching the backs of his while one hand rests on his hip, the other sits in the dip of his arched back. warm skin growing hotter by the second.
but once you look in the mirror that’s showing jason’s pretty red face, taking note of the way his eyes are squeezed shit, you lean and two fingers pull at the collar that’s adorning his throat. pulling on the material harsh enough for him to choke and his eyes to meet yours in attention.
"pretty boys don’t get fucked with their eyes closed," you remind, looking at him through the mirror with a smirk. and it takes half a second until he’s nodding feverishly, listening like the good boy he is. "sorry, ‘m sorry, just felt too good. i’ll be good," he chokes out in a beg, pushing his ass back against you in attempt to get every spare movement you’d give.
releasing the collar, your hand rubs down his back, relishing in scarred skin until you’re holding one of his ass cheeks, bringing a hand up and back down until the room hears a loud smack. jason’s whine follows, biting his own lip while the muscles of his thighs flex.
you take note that his eyes only close in what is a blink, smiling graciously because it’s a reminder that jason is your good boy. a reminder that his words aren’t just taking up breath and that he means them.
and once you begin fucking him properly, the moans, whimpers, and whines that escape his mouth are sinful. a sound that, if it weren’t for the thick and soundproof walls of your bedroom, the entirety of gotham would take note of. but it was only you that could bring your big vigilante down to a whimpering pup.
370 notes
·
View notes
Text
Picture your f/o is close to your ear. Now try to imagine what they would do when close to it.
Would they whisper sweet nothing into your ear? Do they let out a soft chuckle? Do they tease you with their words or their soft breath? Or maybe they just felt like getting closer and don't do much. Or perhaps they tease you in another way around your ear.
And how would you react? Would you be able to control your giggles? Are you flustered? Or do you want to tease them back and not give them the satisfaction, and thus try to not react to it. And if you do not react, do you succeed or fail and give in?
It's up to you! As long as you imagine it.
Proship/Comship do not interact please
171 notes
·
View notes
Text
OCTOBER 7: YOU FLOWER, YOU FEAST JASON TODD (5.1K)
kinktober prompts: virginity + praise | kinktober masterlist
synopsis. you meet a beautiful stranger and every bit of sense you've accumulated over the years flies out the window. what's the worst that could happen?
cw: f!reader, smut, gentle mdom, praise, virginity loss, virgin!reader, dry humping, cunnilingus, fingering f!receiving, piv sex, unprotected sex minors, blank and ageless blogs dni
technically a part 2 to for you i'd fall from grace (just to touch your face) but can be read as a standalone
The doors open with a quiet ding.
Now it is you on the other side watching him step out, and a beat passes. The world seems to hold its breath.
You take his hand.
It feels like your undoing and rebirth all in one.
Jason’s hotel room is…luxurious. That is the first thing you notice when he leads you in, opening the door with his free hand. He doesn’t let go of you for a moment, fishing the keycard out of his pocket smoothly as his mouth skims over yours. He presses you into the door for a moment, and then you hear two small beeps before you’re being walked backwards.
When he pulls away, he’s backlit by gold and your eyes trail over his shoulder to take in the spacious room you’ve been led into.
Rich, patterned carpet, detailed plaster carvings along the trim and a chandelier – your eyes widen when you spot the bed. Jason huffs out a laugh, breath tickling your ear as you take in the wrinkled sheets, untouched from when you’d interrupted his night to coax him out with you, a cloud of what you’re sure is a thousand thread count bedsheets. It’s fit to house a king.
There’s a mouth against your shoulder, and you look back up to your companion. Jason glitters before you, sparks from the chandelier glass winking at the corners of your vision, robing him in reds, blues and purples. Your heart flutters as he grows closer.
“Hi, pretty thing,” he whispers, pressing his mouth to yours. “You okay?”
His hands are warm against your sides, and you nod into the kiss, a hum caught in his mouth. But your lips tremble against his, and you’ve begun to shake a little in his arms. You mourn the loss when he breaks the kiss, teal eyes narrowing on you.
A hand comes up to cradle your face, a dry warmth that bleeds into you, and your eyes flutter as it tilts your head.
“We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”
But how do you tell him that you are? You’re more sure of this than anything in your life. Every cell in your body, every nerve and vein and beat of your heart all thrum with the same thought, the same desire – this, him. You want him so badly, there’s an ache between your legs and when you shift your weight you can feel the dampness of your underwear, sticky with need.
How do you tell him?
That even in your desire, even in your certainty that you won’t be leaving this room unchanged, there is fear.
You think of girlhood, of closed bedroom windows and lonely nights, of eyeing valentines enviously. You think of bare knees and secret touches beneath bed covers, substituting your fingers for another’s, faceless hands skimming your innermost parts–
You blink at Jason. Jason, who is solid, and real. Who has already unknowingly stolen a first, on his way to take another. Teal smudges in your vision, and you press closer, seeking comfort from the bigger man.
“No one has ever..” you try to say, but your voice wavers, and heat crawls up your neck to settle in your face. A thumb skims across the nape of your neck, and you shiver.
“Will you look at me?”
You linger in the safety of his embrace for a moment longer, before you do as he says, tipping your head to gaze at him. He smiles, pleased, and the sight of it sends a rush of blood to your head.
“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, rewarding you with a squeeze to your side. “You were saying something. Tell me.”
You blink. Surely he wasn’t going to make you say it? Hadn’t he heard enough? You’d only known him so long, but Jason seemed intelligent enough to connect the dots. But he only stares patiently at you, waiting.
“I..” you lick your lips, throat suddenly dry. “I’ve never done this before.”
The look in his eyes confirms your suspicions – he had only wanted to hear you say it. It’s no less gentle, but his touch tightens around you a little, and you swallow as his pupils, already blown wide, seem to darken even more.
“Done what, baby?” he rasps out, lowering his head to nose at the column of your throat. “Let a stranger take you back to his room?”
You squirm in his arms, hands coming up to clutch the fabric of his shirt, fistfuls of cotton wrinkling under your touch.
“Mmh..no..I mean..yes..but–”
“But what?” he mumbles into your jaw.
“I’ve never – with anyone,” you stutter out, squeezing his shoulders, tucking your face into his collar.
He withdraws then, eyes glossy. “No one?” he asks, voice steady save for the hitch in his breath when you shake your head.
“Is–is that okay?” you ask and his eyes slip shut for a second, forehead falling forward to press against yours. The both of you stand in the living area of his obscenely large hotel room, but all you see is aqua eyes, curtained by thick lashes, staring into yours.
“Sweetheart,” he breathes out a laugh, thumb sliding a path back up to your cheek. “Is that okay with you? I don’t expect anything, we can hang out a little longer, or I can walk you back down to your room–”
“No!” you protest, and his eyes widen. You scrunch your eyes closed, lowering your voice. “No, I…I do want to – y’know.”
He laughs, and you feel the press of his mouth against your cheek, there and gone just as quickly. It’s chaste, and sweet.
“Yeah?” he asks, amused. “You want to…y’know?”
You frown at him, nerves steadily melting away as he grins at you. You’ve known him less than a week but this familiarity feels age old. “Don’t make fun of me.”
“Aw,” he snickers, smoothing your pout away with a kiss. “‘M sorry. You’re just cute. I can’t help it.”
You have to squirm away when his fingers pinch your sides teasingly, laughing too loudly for the hour it currently is. He doesn’t seem to care that you might be disturbing the other guests – but you suppose for what he must’ve paid for this room, any sound is unlikely to bleed through the walls. “Stop! Stop!”
He grins at you, ceasing his attack. Eyes softening, he tilts his head, gesturing to the living space you’d overlooked. A chaise longue and expensive looking sofa are arranged neatly, flowers blooming in a vase on the coffee table. You spy a book resting beside it, neatly bookmarked with a slip of paper you recognise to be hotel stationery, the filigree border sticking out from between the pages giving it away.
“C’mere, sweetheart. I wanna kiss you a bit more.”
You kick your heels off, the sparkly shoes you’d spent more money on than you ought to have landing sideways beside his. Your feet sink into the plush carpet below as you pad over to the couch, falling into Jason’s lap with a delighted giggle when he pulls you close. Knees bracketing his hips, your skirt slides up dangerously, but you’re more focused on the slide of his mouth against yours.
“You’re so fucking pretty,” Jason breathes into your mouth, and your eyes droop, smiling against him. Big hands settle against the small of your back, and Jason swallows the surprised noise you make when you feel him under you, thick, and hard. “Got me so fuckin’ hard for you, sweetheart. Can you feel that?”
You rock your hips shyly, squirming on his lap, letting out a breath when you feel him bump against your covered clit, pleasure pooling low in your gut.
“Mmh..there you go,” Jason whispers, guiding you along his lap. You whine into his mouth, eyes shutting at the slide of his tongue against yours. It’s slow, and a little messy, the way he kisses you, spit slicked lips sliding against yours, hands rocking you back and forth.
You have no idea what the time is, your phone lying abandoned in the depths of your purse, forgotten in the entryway next to your shoes. Orange light burns through the back of your eyelids, and fatigue renders your limbs heavy against Jason – it’s been a long day and an even longer night, but you aren’t quite ready to give it up yet, too drunk on this new experience to call an end to it.
An open window nearby lets in a stream of air, cool against your flushed skin and some way down the road, a car beeps on the motorway. Jason, beneath you, rolls his hips up into your aching centre and you mewl. He laughs as you break away, panting, lips shiny with spit. You go dizzy at the sight.
“So fuckin’ noisy,” he laughs, leaning back against the couch. He looks sinful, head tipped back to expose his throat, thick thighs spread and hands on your hips. Like he’s at your mercy. Power ripples beneath your fingertips as you touch his neck, skimming over his Adam's apple. Almost as if in a trance, you lower your head to bite at the skin, tongue laving at the mark and relishing in the groan he lets out.
“You sure-” he gasps when you do it once more. “Y’sure you’ve never done this before?”
“Mhm,” you hum, sucking a mark below his ear. You pull away, breath hitching at the sight of the bruise blooming there. His eyes are already on you when you meet his gaze, half-lidded and hungry.
“‘M so fucking lucky, aren’t I?” he rasps, resting a hand on the back of your neck and bringing you down to him. “Nobody else gets you like this, do they.”
You shake your head in affirmation and he grins, a little pleased. And then, his gaze is drifting down to the neck of your dress.
It’s a pretty thing, the both of you know it, daringly lowcut – more than you would have ever braved to wear back home. But here, you are something else entirely, a flower in bloom. There is no one to tell you no, to heed caution. No nosy eyes – the only gazes on you now are heavy with something else. You see the same heaviness in Jason’s eyes as he drinks in the red swathing your figure.
You’d seen it in the store and known – this was it. This would be the one. Every stitch and fold of it had been made in your image, you’d known it from the moment you laid your eyes on it, only confirmed by the reflection in the dressing room mirror.
“Baby,” Jason says suddenly, voice sounding shot, eyes turning pleading and hands trailing back down to fist at your dress. “Can I take this off?”
You find yourself nodding fervently, so eager that any pretense of playing coy slips right out of your head as you lean up and forward, closing your eyes as his fingers pull the zip at your side and pull the material up your figure. It’s unbearably slow, and the drag of the fabric up your skin leaves goosebumps in its trail, your heart hammering in your chest as inch by inch, you are bared to his eyes. When the skirt gathers at your waist, only just covering your panties, Jason groans, eyes tracing your thighs hungrily. He pauses a moment, and you tremble atop him. It’s only a moment – he resumes his path.
Everything is still, and quiet around the both of you. Only your shared breathing, heavy – and, you imagine, wrapping around the other, invisible. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears, and you curl your fingers into fists where they rest on your thighs.
“Up, baby,” Jason murmurs, and you raise your arms, shuddering as the dress is lifted totally. It hits the ground behind you with a quiet flutter, and you’re left atop Jason’s lap in only the pretty panties you’d slipped on before dinner.
Before dinner, when you’d flounced around your hotel room, running back and forth across the wardrobe and your suitcase and your vanity, silk robe slipping down your shoulders, giggling with your best friend. You’d slipped on the scrap of material after your shower, shrieking when she’d voiced the thought you’d quietly entertained – who exactly are you putting those on for?
Their intended subject breathes out a sigh when his eyes land on them, a groan caught in his throat. The hardness pressed against your thigh is an attestation to just how much he likes it.
“Fuck, sweetheart…” Jason tips forward to press his forehead to your shoulder, and your breath hitches when the movement causes his nose to brush against your bare skin, lips so close to your breast you can feel his breath. “Been wanting to do that from the moment you showed up at my door.”
“Yeah?” you breathe out shyly, face warming. His resounding “Mhm.” vibrates against your shoulder.
“Y’showed up looking like sin, princess,” he mumbles, a sloppy kiss pressed to your skin. And then another, and another. He moves slowly, with precision, and you’re burning for him. “Thought about just locking the door and ripping that damn dress off you – ‘m surprised you didn’t notice how hard I got.”
Your eyes flicker down but his broad shoulders obscure your view, curling over you, leaving wet kisses over every bit of skin he can reach.
“Mmh, baby y’gotta talk to me,” Jason sighs, pulling away and you almost keen at the loss, chasing after him when he sinks back into the couch cushions, hands steadying you as you tip forward. “Tell me.”
“Tell you what?” you whisper, nose to nose.
Up close, he is even more beautiful, golden and freckled from the summer sun. His eyelashes are thick, fluttering with every blink. He watches you, and you are reminded of a big cat, lazy eyes fixed on its prey, slow, smouldering blinks as he stares at you.
“You want me to take care of you?” he breathes out, and you nod. He shakes his head. “Gotta hear you say it out loud, sweetheart. You can do that for me can’t you?”
His voice drops into a coo, encouraging in all the ways to make your head dizzy, every thought turning syrupy thick when he bumps his nose against yours, coaxing.
“Say it for me, baby,” he murmurs into your mouth, capturing your bottom lip between his. You feel the barest drag of his teeth and you whimper – he catches that too. “Aw, c’mon pretty. I’ve barely done anything, yet. There’ll be time for that later. Y’just gotta tell me.”
“Jason, I-” you gasp out, when he rocks his hips up into you. “Please? Please…”
“Please what?”
If they could only see you now. Shame and desire race through your veins, circling each other in a vicious stand-off. Will you give in? Will you see it through? You’ve come this far. Ruination is only a murmur away.
“Fuck me,” you whisper, and his eyes gleam.
Jason hauls you up from the couch in one swift movement that leaves you grappling for his shoulders, but his hold is firm – you’re in no danger of falling, unless he intends it. Mouth on yours, he crosses the living space and you enter the bedroom, the mammoth of a bed coming closer into view. You only register it in your periphery, much too preoccupied with the brush of Jason’s tongue against yours, yet another new, dizzying sensation that clouds your senses.
And then you’re falling back, landing amongst the sheets of his bed. Jason hovers above you – still clothed. You quirk a brow expectantly at him and he pauses. He follows your gaze, and snickers when he realises.
“I guess I’m being pretty unfair, huh,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss you. “I’ve got you all pretty and bare for me and I’m still dressed. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
Jason is, impossibly, even more attractive under his clothes. He shucks the jacket and top, and your throat dries at the sight of him, all soft muscle and broadness. Every inch of him has been carved with a careful hand, and you drag your gaze downwards as he tugs his sweats off, left in only a pair of black boxer briefs. Powerful thighs flex as he steps out of his clothing, and you have to bite back the urge to learn forward and press your mouth to him, to sink your teeth into the muscle of his chest.
“Hope that’s a good silence,” he remarks, kicking his sweats away and you snap your eyes back up to him, a nervous laugh bubbling from your lips.
“It is,” you assure. Bravely, you reach out to take his hand, and his eyes soften a little when you do. “You’re…no one should look like that.”
Pink dusts the top of his cheeks and he laughs. “I’m glad you think so.” He shakes his head then, and draws closer. “Tonight’s about you, though, princess. Can you lay back for me?”
“Like this?” you ask, unsure, settling yourself against his pillows, legs bent together. He smiles, kneeling at the foot of the bed.
“Not quite,” he says, a warm hand coming to cup your calf. “This okay? If you wanna stop, just let me know. Pinch me, or something. Promise I’ll stop.”
You nod, and nod once more, and he drops a kiss to the inside of your knee as he maneuvers your legs so they’re spread, allowing him to draw closer. All that stands between his gaze and your most sensitive parts is a scrap of fabric, and you see his eyelids droop as he settles on his stomach, breath skimming your inner thigh.
“You’re gonna be good for me, aren’t you?” he asks, tilting his head, expectant. His voice is gentle, coaxing, and you find yourself nodding, eager to please him. He smiles, and it’s like starlight, reddened mouth curving up to reveal pearly whites.
“Yeah,” he sighs, pleased. Fingers trail up your legs, pushing them further apart with a firmness that is equally as gentle. “Knew you would. My girl knows how to listen t’me. So sweet for me. ‘M gonna kiss you now, ‘kay, sweetheart?”
You’re tipping your chin and then your panties are being hooked to the side and there’s a mouth on you, warm, and wet, tongue curling against your clit in a movement that draws a gasp right out of you, squirming against the sheets, both chasing and drawing away from the unfamiliar sensation. Jason laughs at the sound, only pressing closer to you with an arm hooking across your hips to keep you still.
Your vision swims, and you press your head back into the pillows, the canopy above you blurring under every artful lash and lick of Jason’s tongue. Your hands fist the sheets when he closes his lips around your clit, sucking gently – desire burns in your gut and explodes behind your eyes with his movements, your hips lurching off the mattress only to meet the steel resistance of his arm.
“Jason,” you cry, only growing warmer when he snakes his free hand up your torso to pinch your nipple, squeezing your breasts as he works his mouth.
“That’s it, sweetheart, just-” he cuts himself off, spitting onto your folds – only adding to the mess you’re sure you’ve made. You shudder and he laughs against your skin. “Mmh, just like that, just like that…”
Your hand finds its way into his hair, fingers sinking into thick black locks and tugging before you can register the impulse. You draw away, a babbled apology on your tongue but he only catches your wrist as it raises and pushes it back with a husky laugh.
“Touch me all you want,” he says, kissing your thigh. “Want you to feel good, angel.”
“It does,” you pant, too caught up to find any embarrassment in the needy pitch of your voice, too eager to get his mouth back on you. He grins, knowingly, and raises his hand, reaching to press his fingers against your lips.
“Get my fingers wet f’me, baby,” he says.
It feels debauched, the way you let him part your lips and sink his fingers in your mouth, pressing heavy on your tongue. Drool collects, and you flick your tongue against his thick digits, sucking. His eyes shutter, and you find yourself pleased to have turned the tables, even if only momentarily. He retracts his fingers soon, and you follow the string of spit with your eyes, flinching when it snaps, smearing against your chin.
“That’s my girl,” he exhales. “‘M gonna stretch you out, okay? Tell me if it’s too much.”
“Okay,” you murmur, resting a hand across the arm on your hips. He pushes himself up onto his haunches, and then there’s a finger pressing at your entrance. It’s a foreign feeling – Jason’s fingers are much thicker than your own, and you tense up at the intrusion, but he notices.
“Take a breath for me,” he tells you firmly, other hand stroking your skin comfortingly. “It’ll be more uncomfortable if you’re tense like that. There you go, take another for me, good girl.”
He leans up to kiss you, and you clutch his shoulders tightly when his thumb circles your clit in gentle circles, finger steadily pressing into you. You breathe through it, feeling small under his frame, but grateful for the cover. Jason whispers praise into your skin as you take him slowly, and you tip your head back as slowly, your body adjusts to the stretch.
“So good for me,” he tells you, and your eyes burn, tears crowding your lashline at the rush of emotions – it’s so much, all at once. You can’t quite make sense of things anymore, entirely consumed by the feeling of him, over, around, inside.
And still, when he deems you properly prepped, you feel you’ve entered an entirely new ballpark when he slides your panties off and removes his underwear, cock springing up and slapping against his stomach.
It isn’t as though you’ve never seen one before. The internet, and sex ed classes had at least given you some idea about what to expect, but –
Jason is big. Even inexperienced, you know this. Your mouth dries the longer you stare at it, so thick you wonder how he’s going to fit it inside you – can he? Trepidation settles in your lower gut, but with it, something else. You sit up on shaky arms, and curiosity spurs you on to reach for him, tucking your legs beneath you as you shuffle closer.
He lets you touch him, teal eyes watching in silence as your hand brushes along his hip, dipping down to press against his thigh. Skirting around where you really want to touch. When he exhales above you, you look up to find him softly smiling, amusement in the curve of his mouth.
“I don’t bite,” he says softly, fingers coming to wrap around your wrist gently, guiding your touch to his cock. The both of you shudder when you make contact, wrapping around his length experimentally. The weight of him in your hands makes your heart thrum, and you don’t realise you’ve drawn closer until he’s pulling you away just as your lips hover over the head of him.
You look up questioningly, and he gives you a reassuring grin, caressing your cheek. “Later, sweetheart. I wanna make you feel good.”
“Promise?” you murmur and he nods, looping his pinky around yours.
And then you’re being pressed back down into the sheets, a mouth on yours and Jason’s tongue licking at the seam of your lips. And you know you ought to be a little more responsible, when he presses on your bare heat, precum smearing at your entrance, but there’s a rush in the thought of having him wholly – of letting go of responsibility for just one night.
You’ve been good all your life, you figure you’re allowed one moment of recklessness.
He’s prepped you well, but the first press of his head inside still makes you gasp, stomach tightening as he enters you. He swallows the sound in his mouth, humming assuringly against your lips.
“Mmh, you’re doin’ so good for me,” he mumbles, sloppily kissing your jaw, and you throw your arms around his neck, tucking your face into his shoulder. “Breathe, breathe, princess.”
Inch by inch, he pushes until you’ve taken the entire length of him, settling there for you to adjust. You can feel it in your throat, every bit of skin and heat making your blood simmer, your eyes rolling slightly at the stretch.
“You okay?”
Jason brushes a few fingers across the back of your neck, and the touch is grounding, drawing your attention back to him. You nod, and he lets out a little laugh.
“So sweet for me,” he mutters, dropping a kiss to your head. You exhale against his collar, returning it to the spot above his heart, lips smudging against his chest and leaving a streak of colour where your lipstick rubs off. You grin privately, repeating the motion. The hand at your hip squeezes affectionately, and he speaks again. “Gonna start moving now, okay?”
“Mhm.” It’s a needy sound – not the first one he’s pulled out of you tonight, and when he rolls his hips, thumb catching at your clit, you wager it won’t be the last.
You lose all ability to think within minutes. Jason is attentive, and every touch lights you on fire, leaves you feeling scraped raw, every nerve sensitive to him. Everything feels amplified as he thrusts, making ample of use of his mouth and fingers in time with his movements. You’re clutching him, clutching the sheets, legs shaking around his waist.
The hotel room is filled with the sounds of your pleasure, Jason drawing moan after moan, whimpers and desperate moans from your lips – absently, you wonder, is that you, making all that noise? It seems utterly discomposed, something too filthy for the otherwise pristine room you’re in. But Jason is uncaring and if anything, it only spurs him on, gripping you tighter.
“Fuck,” he hisses, biting at your shoulder and you whine, nails biting into the meat of his shoulder. “That’s it, princess, you sound so fucking pretty.”
Sweat gathers in the dip of your brow, lines your skin and his as his hips cant into yours. His head dips down to catch a nipple in his mouth, teeth grazing the your sensitive bud. You choke on a gasp, throwing your head back into the pillows. He grins, letting go with a wet pop.
“Jason.” you sob out and he coos.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” he says, leaning down so you’re nose to nose. You gaze at him through half-lidded eyes, unable to keep them open. “‘M I making you feel good? This what you expected?”
“F-feels so good,” you cry, the tears that have been gathering finally slipping free, streaking down your face as he rocks into you. His teeth gleam in the low light, victory in the stretch of his lips – the light haloes around him and he looks divine, bronzed and eclipsing your entire body with his.
He thrusts faster, a little harder, and you clutch his arm suddenly, feeling the pleasure rising in to a crescendo in your stomach. His name falls off your lips, coloured in desperation and tears, and you buck your hips up in an effort to match his.
“You close, sweetheart?” he pants and you keen.
“Uh-huh,” you mewl, voice pitching as you draw him down into a messy kiss, a meeting of teeth and tongue that leaves you dizzy.
“Fuck, princess, that’s it,” he groans, a hand coming around your lower back to lift you closer. The other circles your clit faster, and you cry out. “That’s it, come for me. Just let go for me, I know you can do it. You’re such a good girl, been so good for me, you deserve to come, don’t you? C’mon sweetheart, just like that.”
You break with a squeal, coming apart around his cock. It’s intense, the wave that crashes over you and swims through your body, reaching every nerve ending and muscle. And he doesn’t stop, fucking you through it with steady thrusts that don’t relent. You’re pushing at his stomach, fingers desperately clawing at him. It’s dizzying, and you clench down harder, drawing a groan from him.
“Shit, baby,” he gasps, forehead dropping to yours. “Sweetest fucking pussy, ‘m so fucking close.”
You can only tilt your head up to capture his mouth, biting down on his bottom lip. He pulls away swearing, sweat lining his brow.
“Gonna come,” he chokes out, forehead creasing as his eyes squeeze shut. You squeeze down around him once again, and he moans.
“Come for me,” you breathe out, and he shakes his head, looking pained. His lips turn down into a pout, and though you’ve little energy in your body, you want nothing more than to sink your teeth into it. You fear that by doing this, he’s woken something in you now – there is no coming back from the monster he’s made of you, the insatiable hunger he’s called on.
“Don’t say that, baby,” he barely manages to grit out. “I can’t, I-”
He pulls himself out suddenly, fisting his cock over your body. You realise just how close he was when in a few quick strokes, he comes over your stomach, shooting onto your skin with a strangled noise.
“Fuck!”
Silence falls over the room, save for your heavy breaths. You sink back into the pillows, spent and Jason lowers himself beside you, reaching out to pull you close. You tuck yourself into his side, and the muffled sound of his heartbeat reaches you from beneath your cheek.
“How you feeling, sweetheart?” A hand settles on the dip of your back, thumb skimming across the expanse sweetly. “Talk t’me.”
“Good,” you slur out, eyes slipping closed. Your own pulse steadily throbs in your ears and you can feel the fatigue settling in your muscles, sapped of your strength. “So tired.”
“Yeah?” he questions, affection colouring his voice. You hum, nosing at him as though you could burrow closer.
“Rest a bit. I’ll get up in a moment, run you a bath,” he promises you, voice rough. “Gotta get you cleaned up.”
“You’ll come with?” you ask quietly, and he sighs, amused. He rubs your back.
“Yeah, princess, I’ll come with.”
With that, you close your eyes, letting the sounds of the city bleed in through the window. Jason’s heart beats steadily beneath you, fingers tracing up your bare spine, and you succumb to sleep.
everybody say thank you ro you're the best ro you wrote the best first proper smut fic ever ro. jk but this was so hard to get through i would like to thank miss lana del rey herself, my smut writing playlist and the guide to writing smut by @/mevima because they were my lifelines. and also my bestest friend in the world for reading over this for me despite not knowing a single thing about dc beyond the barest minimum she is my angel and guiding star everybody give her a round of applause.
i considered quitting kinktober so many times writing this you have no idea. tell your favourite smut authors you love them because genuinely...after kinktober i'm going back to fluff /lh. also please don't expect this length for every kinktober piece hahaha this fic is just it's own creation and would not let me write anything less than 5k. we'll be returning to our regular programming soon.
485 notes
·
View notes
Note
ooohh werewolf!Jason with the prompt "you make me feel so safe" is giving my brain the good tinglies
hell yeah werewolf jay!!! hope u like aud <3
werewolf!jason todd x gn!reader. fluff, werewolf shift, wolf form, jason being worried about hurting the reader (ofc he doesn't tho he's my honeybunch sugarplum).
i rb all fics to @sanguinelibrary | requests are open!
****
"Are you sure you want me here tonight?"
Jason stands at the doorway, looking unsurely at the pile of pillows, blankets, and your clothing that you've constructed into a semblance of a nest on your bed.
"Of course I do," you say, fluffing a pillow. "What side d'you want?"
Jason frowns harder and takes a step back. "I think I should go home tonight. I don't—what if I... what if something happens? What if I hurt you?"
"You won't hurt me, baby," you tell him, and draw the blinds closed. "You never have, remember? Batman monitored you when you came back."
"A hundred other things could go wrong—"
"And we've planned for that, Jay," you say gently. "But it's unlikely, remember? It's just like any other shift."
It's quiet for a long time. You finish setting up, until Jason speaks again.
"I'm so ugly."
You turn in alarm. "What? Jay, what are you—"
"I'm not one of those TV wolves you see on Animal Planet. I came back wrong. I'm scarred and my eyes glow horribly and I've got big teeth and a-a monster's face, and—"
"Hey." You put your hands on his face. His eyes slip closed and he leans into your touch. You rub your thumbs in circles on his cheeks.
"You're not a monster, Jason," you say, the very word upsetting you. "I don't care what you look like, alright? You don't scare me. You make me feel so safe, actually. Doesn't matter what form you're in."
His eyes fly open. "I don't wanna lose you," he says desperately.
"Oh, honey. Is that what you've been worried about? Jay, this isn't going to change anything between us. Even if something goes wrong. You won't lose me."
Jason stares longingly over your shoulder, at the bed. You smile and tug his hands.
"C'mon, we'll get comfy."
Jason stops at the edge of the bed. It's close.
"If something happens, don't hesitate," he says. "Protect yourself."
"It's alright," you soothe, reaching to run your hand through his hair. "Everything will be fine, Jay."
The shift is quicker than you expect. The moon rises to its highest point and there's the crack of bone and muscle, something that Jason assured you didn't hurt but you're still doubtful.
He's big as a wolf, bigger than his human self. It's true, he doesn't look exactly like a traditional wolf.
For a moment, when his eyes land on yours, your heart skips a beat. You understand who you've just entrusted your life with.
Jason tips his head uncertainly, and backs up. You reach out a hand.
"It's okay," you whisper. He'd told you his senses are on overdrive in this form. "Jay, it's okay. C'mon up."
Despite his size, the bed only creaks a little bit. Jason herds you to the center of the bed and then completely curls around you. His tail hangs off of the bed. You're dwarfed in his fur. You can tell he's trying hard to be as gentle as possible. He still hasn't relaxed, obviously waiting for the tiniest hint for you to push him away. The thought breaks your heart.
You wrap your arms around his neck and push your face close to his snout, nuzzling his head. Jason whines softly.
"No one I'd feel safer with," you whisper, and kiss the patches of scarred fur that have no fur. "And y'know what? You're way better than those Animal Planet hacks."
Jason chuffs, warm breath fanning your ear, and you squirm at the tickle. You burrow deeper into him, and Jason hesitantly accepts you, finally letting himself relax.
Jason keeps you warm the whole night.
478 notes
·
View notes
Note
dreamily sighing thinking about jason getting a lil jealous... like you KNOW hes the type to have really good jealousy sex. ofc hed always respect your decisions but if some guy was flirting with you and you didnt notice (me im terrible at picking up on social queues) or he saw how a guy was looking at you? ohhh he's fucking you HARD that night.
he's rough, but he's so needy it's crazy. pounding into you, leaving hickeys where he probably shouldn't, groaning and grunting and he's repeating "mine" over and over. he's telling you you're his and that only he gets to make you feel this good, no one else. he's trembling as he fucks you cause as much as it turns him on to claim you, to make you his, he really does worry about you leaving him for someone "better"
afterwards i think he'd be all needy and cuddly and he'd tell you as much as you're his, he's yours.
-🧸
The amount of cashiers that have flirted w me and I haven't noticed and have had to been dragged away from is terrifying. also just other men in general too. I like to talk.
He wasted no time after he walked inside. He scooped you up and carried you to bed, ruining your shirt in his haste to get it off.
You're splayed out beneath him with your fingers tangled in his hair. Your breathing is labored as he leaves hickeys, very visible hickeys, on your neck and around your collarbones. Eventually he makes his way down, kissing every inch of skin he can get to.
"Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine."
Each word brings him lower and lower. He makes his way to your inner thighs.
"Mine. You hear me? Mine." He punctuates the last one with a hickey to the inside of your left thigh where you know you'll feel it tomorrow when you go to walk.
His mouth finally makes its way to your clit and you thrust your hips forward. He bring one hand to your hips and forces them against the mattress in a bruising grip, using his other hand to prod at your entrance.
He removes his face and begins using his fingers to work you open.
"You're mine, all mine. Mine. No one else can make you feel this good."
Once he's satisfied, he climbs over you and aligns himself with your entrance.
"You want it, baby?" He slides his dick in, but leaves it unmoving.
You nod your head.
"Then say who you belong to."
"Mmph. Shit. You."
His pace is immediately brutal. He trembles as he thrusts.
"'s right, baby. You're mine. So good for me. My pretty baby."
----
After it's all said and done, he's the little spoon. You tell him he's yours and that you love him until he falls asleep in your arms.
715 notes
·
View notes
Text

Very fond of the idea that Jason has big, sturdy hands. Proportionate to the general size of his frame maybe, but big nonetheless.
Calloused from years of training, prominent veins snaked from the back of his hands to his bulging forearms, especially when he is working on something, whether it’s his bike or he’s just holding a book in hand, deep in his thoughts and completely not noticing your sneaky glances at him.
And he’s such a cocky bastard, so there’s no way he doesn’t know, you were sure, but he sure acts like he doesn’t know the effect that just his hands bring to you.
Not when you’re out in public and he has your hand in his, the thick pad of his thumb rubbing circles on the inside of your wrist mindlessly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips at whatever shenanigans are happening around you and he is just content to have a peaceful moment with you.
Or when he’s trying to pass behind you and so naturally puts his hand on the small of your back to gently move you out of the way, mumbling a soft “excuse me” under his breath as his chest just barely brushed against your back and the heat of his palm lingers even after he is gone.
(Which always does the trick, though he doesn’t even know that it’s a trick, because no you can’t get him out of your head until the end of the day when you finally have him all to yourself.)
(It leaves him a little breathless in times when you are particularly needy, wondering what got you so worked up when you pawed and tugged at his shirt the moment you were alone.)
(To this day, he still hasn't found out.)
And those big, sturdy hands are so good when they found their way onto your waist, holding you firm and still like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he doesn’t when he kisses you like it’s the last thing he could ever do.
814 notes
·
View notes
Text
thinks about jason being sooo in love with me. he’s a little messed up in the head but i make him happy so it’s ok
4 notes
·
View notes