k-4-ni

[k-4-ni]

Does anyone else have a violent rush of nostalgia when thinking about attack on titan? This shit hits me every year wtf.

[k-4-ni]

Please, I'm so delusional, Fucked up my exam big-time.

[k-4-ni]

what the fuck I'm crying.

Between Heartbeats

Hurt/Comfort

Jason Todd rarely finds peace. His whole life has been spent fighting, surviving. But he finds peace with you, simple, quiet moments that he returns to in his mind when everything else seems hopeless.

The soft times, that people may call mundane, are the most precious to him.

When you sit out on the fire escape of your apartment, wrapped in a blanket together, watching the sunset between buildings. Your head rests on his shoulder, his hand idly traces patterns over your hip. Steam rises from the hot drink in your hands.

Later, on patrol, he'll hold this moment close to his heart. He'll close his eyes, and it's almost like he can still feel your warmth.

When you're falling asleep, tangled together before he leaves to protect Gotham, the way you seek his warmth in the cold winter months. You always find a way to press as much of yourself against him as possible, he relishes in it, being so close to you, the way your chest rises and falls. He forces his tired eyes open so he can watch the way your fingers curl against his skin, the way you tuck your head against his shoulder. It's beautiful, perfect, and he wants nothing more than to stay like this with you forever.

Later, when the steel and concrete are crushing his body to the ground, he'll wish he did.

When you always find a way to touch him. Ankles hooked under the table, pinkies entwined when you have to lean away to reach something, a promise you're coming back. Your body flushed against his side, his chest against your back, his forehead pressed to yours. He loves touching you in any way. He loves you. He loves you.

Now, in the ruins of rubble he's trapped under, when his vision is starting to go dark and he can't quite make out the voices coming through his helmet, he dreams of touching you one more time, telling you how much you mean to him. He can picture it so clearly, the brightness of your eyes, the feel of your skin against his, the smell of your scent in his nose.

He hopes they spare you the details. That they tell you he died saving people, that he died good.

He hopes he goes to heaven. He'd wait as long as it takes, but he wants to see you again. He's still seeing the color of your eyes, still swearing his love with every beat of his heart, when everything goes black.

Jason doesn't go to heaven. He knows this because he can hear you crying. He's not hell, either. He knows that because he can feel the familiar touch of your hand in his.

It takes all his strength to open his eyes. But you're crying, and nothing's going to stop him from fixing that.

"Baby?" He chokes out. He winces a little. His voice sounds awful, it hurts to talk.

Your head whips up and you pitch towards him, moving to hug him before you stop short. He can tell you're scared to hurt him more than he already is. He can feel the bruises littering his skin, the swelling in his face.

"C'me 'ere," he mumbles out, struggling to gain control over his own tongue again. You shake your head, tears still spilling down your face.

He sighs out your name, soft and pleading and tugs your hand. "S'okay, baby, C'mere."

"I thought you were dead," You cry instead, "the news said– and the others you stopped answering over comms–"

He frowns, he really, really wants to hold you right now, to make it better. "Not dead. I'm okay." He tries again to pull you onto the bed, but it's really difficult when his arms feel like they're not attached to his body.

"You're not okay!" You protest, eyes darting over him anxiously.

"Baby," he pleads, tugging your hand to his chest, over his heart, "please."

You give in this time, following his tugs onto the bed, you carefully curl at his side, and make sure to to put any weight on him. Jason's not having any of that, and pulls you half on top of him.

"Jason," You scold through your tears, moving to pull away.

"Don't," he says softly, begging as he starts to find his words again, as the anesthesia starts to wear off, "thought I wouldn't see you again. Lemme have you close."

He relaxes when you settle against him.

"I thought you were dead," You tell him again, voice quiet and shaken, but your tears have started to slow. So he must be doing something right.

"Yeah," he kisses your hair, and knows better than to lie right now, even if he doesn't want to scare you, "me too. I thought about you, you know. The whole time. Knew I had to get home, back to you."

You let out a choked noise and and move your head over his heart, listening to it beat against your ear.

"I'm gonna be okay, baby," Jason soothes softly, breathing out your name carefully to try and console you, "looks worse than it feels."

"You're just saying that cause the morphine hasn't worn off yet," You murmur against his chest.

It makes him laugh, then wince a little as he runs his fingers up and down your spine, "Are you– are we gonna be okay?"

You look up at him, so pretty, so perfect, "Yeah. As long as you heal completely, before you start patrolling again."

Jason grins down at you and doesn't fight the urge to press kisses to your cheeks, your nose, your lips, "I love you."

And when you echo the sentiment, say his name with more adoration than he knows what to do with, it's another moment he engraves into his soul.

[k-4-ni]

Reblog if it's okay to invade your ask box.

Always

[k-4-ni]

18+

Jason eats it like Bruce Venture.

Spit, slop, drool oozing down the fats of your asscheeks, God- everything was hazy, you don't even know what time it is, Or how long he's spent with his tongue nestled in between your cunny lips :((

The filthy sounds of his lips smacking and his mouth salivating filled the room, the heat of his hand bleeding into your skin as he gripped at your stomach, keeping you pinned down into the mattress while he devoured whatever was left of your juices, he was drowning in the caves of your heat—nothing would pull him out from this hazy dream.

"N-No...Stop—Jay!" You cried out, Tears staining your pretty skin while you clawed at the sheets, It'd have to take 3 ripped men to drag him away from such a delectable cunt, But who were you to stop him? Lord knows your legs would be numbed from all their nerves 'till he gets his fill.

He'd have enough of your squirming and whining, the heel of your foot pounding on his back only made him growl into your sopping cunt before he'd yank you down the edge of the bed, his thighs flexing and jaw clenching as he raised the lower half of your body into his mouth and the air, folding you over like a lawn chair.

His eyes were feral, his arms looped around the silky fat of your thighs in a vice grip with his mouth sucking, slobbering, and digging into your hole, maneuvering his leg to press into the bed for more leverage.

But who am I to stop him?

[k-4-ni]

There's nothing stopping Jason from getting Tumblr.

Sure, having a real book in his hands with real pages and that earthy yet musty scent that wafts by is somewhat relieving, but reading fanfics... About you– is something else.

Whether it's fan fiction about sweet, domestic moments or more risqué encounters, he's always engrossed in his phone like a kid with an iPad.

His reading glasses firmly clung to the edge of his roman nose, and his sharp light-teal eyes devoured each word on the screen as if etching them into memory, He should be asleep by now but god be damned if he doesn't finish this one work of art.

As I said, nothing is stopping Jason from getting Tumblr.

[k-4-ni]

GOLDEN RETRIEVER! DICK GRAYSON X FEM! READER

WARNINGS: NSFW, MATURE THEMES, DON'T BE READING THIS IF YOUR UNDER 18 TF, P IN V, CONSENTED BEFORE, CREAMPIE, NIPPLE PLAY, GRINDING (OR CALL IT DRY-HUMPING WHATEVER TICKLES YOUR PICKLE).

This man is the most golden retriever boyfriend found in all the 50 States of America.

You think all the villains and ruthless criminals of Gotham would stop him from spoiling his precious little baby? He's been through worse.

Kisses, Kisses, Kisses, this man is all about kisses and hugs, cuddling you from dusk until dawn if he could, if he could.

Sure, his work might delay a few steamy make-out sessions or heart-warming snuggles for a few hours but nothing beats coming back home, shoulders slumped and bone-deep exhaustion seeping through him, only to find the love of his life curled up, thick and fluffy blankets hugging their tiny form, Waiting to be caressed and cradled, just begging to be touched.

Who can resist such a cute little kitten? He'd be snarky about it, maybe even daring to be taunting as he curled up against your form, fitting together so perfectly like he was the missing piece to your puzzle, the way his prominent and firm bulge would snuggle up from between your bubbly ass cheeks made his heart leap out of his tightened chest.

He had to dig his bleached teeth into the soft flesh of his bottom lip, biting back a breathy groan as his fingers would press into the fats of your hips, Thank god you were wearing such tight fucking shorts.

His brain would be foggy, thoughts of just being buried into your moist and silky walls filled his senses, mindlessly trailing his fingers lower between you and reaching out for his throbbing cock, nose scrunching with slight irritation before he could make out the reddened and swollen tip of his cock peeking out from his latex shorts —which he wore underneath his costume—.

Oh god, how much he missed you, If only you knew how many times the thought of you being curled up alone, bitter and cold air seeping into your bones and peeling away at the blissful warmth that one radiated off of you, oh how he'd wrap you up in his strong and beefy arms, heating and warming you up as he wished he could shove the tip of his nose into the crook of your neck, breathing and smelling in your refreshing lavender scent.

This man would make HIS pockets hurt, He doesn't care if you think it's daddy's money or his, he's buying you that diamond necklace you were ogling at the jewellery shop —even if it was just a simple glance—, This 200+ Ibs of a man would buy you every scent of Italian and Morrocan perfume he could find because he just loves it when he's pounding you from behind, his thick and calloused fingers digging into the fat and juicy flesh of those thick thighs of yours, watching as your pussy sucked all his meaty and girthy length in, He could feel his already throbbing mushroom tip kissing at that gooey and silky spot deep inside of you, And he could just pin your body up against his, shoving his nose deep into the crook of your neck as he smelt that earthy and tangy scent of the perfume that HE bought you.

All the sexy and small lingeries he thinks will curve and hug at you bubbly ass better, just so he could rip it off later when you two got home, occasionally squeezing the silky fat of your thighs or glancing down at you with those 'I'm going to fuck you balls-deep when we get home' eyes.

Ever seen those lingerie with the bows placed against your nipples? He goes fucking feral for them, He made you laugh once when saying you're like a kinder surprise, removing this sticky and unwanted piece of plastic, only to find your plump and hardened nipples from beneath, practically begging him to suck on them and ravish them until they were swollen and puffy just like his cock.

[k-4-ni]

I haven't written IN A LONG TIME and I'm trying to make a small scenario but I don't know what the fic should be like.

[k-4-ni]

Stepbrother! Jason who can never keep his hands off of you, fucking you into oblivion whenever your parents are away or nowhere in sight, he doesn't care where you guys are— in the living room, kitchen, or bedroom, he's going to either taste you or fuck you, nothing in between.

Stepbrother! Jason manages to convince his parents to transfer you to his high school instead, seeing as you just moved in with your family and are still searching for an academy to join, only to give you morning kisses and sneak in a few quickies in the bathroom, he already has you cornered into one of the cubicles, his tongue flicking at the insides of your cheeks as his fingers are fumbling with his belt.

"Be quiet, we only have 15 minutes, You wanna make me cum, don't you? God I've been waiting for this pretty pussy all morning, Go on— drench my cock for me baby."

Stepbrother! Jason who buys you whatever you want at the canteen, why bother wasting your money on cheap food when you have Jason Todd stuck to you like a fly? He's already known as the troublemaker of the school, no way is anyone coming near you or at a radius of 6 meters.

Stepbrother! Jason drags you to the library every day after school, letting you pick your favourite book before forcing you to read it and ride his dick at the same time, if you mess up even a word of the page he's already offering you a harsh slap to your bubbly ass which is his favourite shade of red already, grinning with that evil, smug smirk of his as he forces you to restart from the beginning.

[k-4-ni]

TW: possessive!Jason, yandere! Jason, one random look and he's already frothing at the mouth lmao.

STALKING IS NEVER OKAY.

Not if Jason does it.

Stalking creates uncertainty, and severe levels of anxiety and fear, and can absolutely destroy or disrupt lives. It can involve harsh—even brutal—violence. Stalking involves a habit of overtly illicit and/or seemingly innocent behaviour that makes victims fear for themselves or others, illegal in all 50 glorious states of the United States of America.

Not if Jason does it.

From once simple glance at you, innocently sipping at your caramel frappuccino in a local coffee shop, the way your hair ever so perfectly curled and swayed, cascading down your back in a flawless pattern, made him wonder what burying his nose in such soft strands would feel like, Would you smell like coconut? Vanilla? Lavender?

Maybe strawberry shortcake?

It wasn't just your hair that left Jason ogling at you, It was your skin, It was your legs, You're perfect... Perfect complexion, Thank fuck he was a vigilante.

The way your soft and lanky fingers rapidly tapped across your laptop, made him wonder what you worked as, Doctor? Assistant? Teacher?

Maybe a nurse?

From the moment he fixed his eyes on you, it was like a scar, his eyes burning his initials across your neck and your shiny, silky legs.

Night after that specific night, it was like you left a footprint in his memory, Gotham was a boring old city, sure he grew up here all his life— but no one caught his eye, no one left a mark inside of his heart, no one made his knees wobbly or his heart throb in his chest just from one glance.

No one like you.

Let's face it, He was Jason todd, Redhood, what would a perfect girl like you do with him? How was he going to fit you in his schedule? From saving the city and trying to save you? From what?

He didn't care.

Aslong as he had you in his arms, he didn't care about anything else.

Gotham could burn to pieces for all he cared.

Fuck, he was going insane.

A/N: hey....🙂

even I don't know why I just randomly stopped posting but im hereeeeee.

I've been writing a stalking thingy for jason it just needs a few corrections and ill be able to post it, how have y'all been tho?

ALSO 100 DOEJEIDKSK WHY ARE THERE 145 OF YOU?!

But this is just the introduction for the series, I'll see you guys later tho!

[k-4-ni]

4 WHOLE HOURS (NSFW)

Ever think about what DICK GRAYSON does when you're off to work?

Just dick being a dick (and a pervert)

When he builds up the courage to finally peel his eyes open, hissing through clenched teeth as the sun seeps through the curtains, it feels like it is poking his eyes out.

When he looks over his shoulder, expecting to wake up to your limp and sleepy state, expecting to snag a whiff of your expensive perfume that you insist on putting on before going to bed, expecting to catch a glimpse of your pretty complexion (that he came on multiple times the night before.)

But he didn't.

He found himself staring mindlessly at the vacant slot next to him, a harsh wave of bitter air spreading throughout his skin, his fingers lightly tracing over the wrinkles of the sheets— a trace of you before you left.

He hates— No, Abhors when you go to work, he understands that you have your problems and responsibilities to lay off but why was work so early in the morning? It's not like you'd get fired if you took a day off.

Dick pressed his lips into a tight frown, the realization of your absence dawning on him— the realization that you weren't going to join him in breakfast, or his daily run, or his daily 10-minute session of cuddling and oozing into your warmth, or—

Stop.

He'll be fine, it's not like you're gone for—4 hours.

4 whole hours, 240 whole minutes alone, waiting (im)patiently for you to come back home so he could tackle you to the floor and have a perfect excuse to fuck your brains out— And to jerk off to your panties.

He can't help it, he's the eldest son of Bruce Wayne, the one and only Batman himself, but he's one whiny orb of fuzz and sex when it comes to you, his precious girl, his moon and stars, his honey and his home— his tiny fleshlight he could pound into whenever he likes because he knows you'll be such a good girl and take it like one.

1 hour and a half into the dreadful waiting session as he already has your red-laced panties (his favourite pair) bunched up in his hands and smothered into his nose, Oh god— Your fucking scent.

His calloused hand jerks him off until his brain is absolute mush and his thighs tense and cramp as he feels his stomach coil with that familiar sensation of release, so close— on the rim, fumbling with each breathy word, your name spilling from his quivering lips, over and over again.

The base of his cock drooling with a white and milky ring, his reddened tip oozing pre-cum, wishing it was you and your warm tongue cleaning him up of his mess, his chubby balls pulling taut with each stroke, his brain all fuzzy and a putty mess of filthy thoughts and all sorts of dirty fantasies playing in his head.

One of them, feeling your silky walls tightening and grope around his meaty cock, his tip angry and bulging out with a deep red hue— evidence of his desperate edging as his hips bucked furiously against his fingers, a jolt of electricity surging through his bones— moans and moans dribbling from his lips, heavy breaths and whimpers as he near his blinding release, a sigh of pure bliss and a slimy layer of slick sweat trickling down his eyebrows and temples.

Oh, what he would do just to feel your tight cunt keeping his cock nice and warm, smooching your pelvis with each deep plunge and thrust of his hips.

He was too lost in his fantasies of you, too lost to realize he dribbled a gooey mess of his thighs and the sheets, his tongue hungry for the sweet nectar of sex.

There was no way he was making it.

And there was no way you were going to walk tomorrow.

[k-4-ni]

JASON TODD who has every single allergy engraved into his brain, you ordered a sandwich with something you are allergic to? Nope, He's giving it back. He finds out that he keeps something you're allergic to in his place. Nope, he's throwing it away. He always checks the ingredients on chips, packets of biscuits, and food, He never wants to see you in pain or swollen from something that could been effortlessly avoided.

JASON TODD who is an absolute whore for cuddles, it doesn't matter what you're doing or where you are, whether you're cooking or studying, fixing a broken object— he's going to drag you back to bed and smother you with his muscly arms and sloppy kisses, saying something along the lines of:

"Please, Just five more minutes... Breakfast can wait."

JASON TODD t keep his hands or eyes off you, he can't help it— He treasures the way your hair sways back and forth, the way it shines and curls and kisses his fingers whenever he twirls it in his hands, or the way you cook away a feast in the kitchen, keeping an eye on you in case you needed a hand, keeping an eye on the way you tugged at your bottom lip with your teeth, the way your apron hugged and embraced your curves like you were carved out of roses and silk, God he would've trembled to his knees if you asked him to.

JASON TODD who can't control his hands whenever he's around you— cuddling you— devouring you, savouring you, his hand squeezing, kneading, touching and massaging... From the soft, plush flesh of your thighs to the curves and dents of your hips, the way his fingers glide over your skin sends his brain into a frenzy, the things he would do just to have your thick thighs cage his head in are unbelievable.

"You're so soft, angel... So soft and squishy, C'mere lemme hold you."

[k-4-ni]

[Jason Todd x shy! fem Reader ] (Fluff)

CUDDLING WITH JASON (this made my heart MELT)

His hands still where they are, one holding your waist tight and the other still touching you. He doesn’t speak, he just stares at you for seconds that turned into minutes. You know him well enough to know that he must be trying to figure out just what to say.

“Fine,” he says at last, his lips pressed so tightly together that they turned white. “But it will happen.”

He finally pulls away, his breath coming in short gasps. Oh, god, you made him want to do things only the Lord would know about.

You wanted to dedicate your first time, save it for a special moment, a tender moment between you two, not just a spur of the moment and a quickie on the bed, you breathed a sigh of ease as he approved on the idea, resting your head against the mattress as you peered up at him through your lashes.

“You little tease,” he lets out as he rolls over on the bed. He’s still hot from you, but he’s making a horrible attempt at hiding it.

“You’re so damn sexy.”

He puts his hands beneath your arms and hoists you up, seating you on his lap so that you’re face to face and your legs are draped over his. Your hands are regardless on his wrists, though. He grasps them gently, his fingers tracing over your wrists.

“You’ve got a death wish,” he chuckles softly.

You couldn't help but let a yawn slip out, your eyes watering as you wiped away the wetness on your lashes, peering down at him with damp lashes.

You squealed as he hoisted you up onto his lap, your arms draping over his broad shoulders like a child as your eyes twinkled and gleamed.

"Can we um—... You know..."

You bit your lip, feeling a sudden surge of embarrassment flood through you as you pulled my arms back, fidgeting with the skin around your nails.

His eyes light up when he catches a glimpse of your teeth tugging down on your lip. It’s one of the cutest things he’s ever laid his eyes on.

“Hey, tell me?” he asks as he caresses your hair. What is it? What does his little girl want?

Jason is so in love with you. He wants you to want him. He wants you to want to do these things with him. He wants to love you and make you his.

He wants you. So badly.

“Anything for you.”

You couldn't contain the bashful yet shy grin that threatened to curl at your lips, your fingers clenched into fists by your sides as you gazed up at him with sincerity and... Is that fondness and longing?

You blinked, smiling at how dumb you might sound since you were just 'friends', sucking in a sharp breath as you decided to just blurt it out.

"Canwecuddle?" you quickly spat it out, almost as if it was a desperate plea as you peered up at him expectantly.

Jason’s face burns with a deep red hue, He blinks a few times and coughs, attempting to mask that blush as he gapes back at you. You just melted his entire heart with those words. How could that go over his head?

He nods his head. He grabs your hands, interlocking them together over his chest, and he wraps his arms tight around your torso.

“Yeah. Of course we can cuddle.”

You’re in his arms and close to his heart, and your legs are wrapped around his. He loves it here. He wants you here forever.

You breathed a sigh of relief and solace, relieved that you didn't weird him out as you crawled on top of him, shifting your position and squirming as you made an effort to find a comfortable position, melting into his lap as you buried your head into the crook of his neck.

You breathed him in, feeling your heart flutter and throb in your tightened chest as you nuzzled against him, whining at the roughness of the stubble on his chin.

You decide to ignore it, wrapping your tiny arms around his neck as you cocooned him with your arms and legs, even though they hung loosely at his sides due to his large frame.

All these months of waiting have been worth it. You’re here now, in his arms, and he’s never going to let go.

Jason wraps his arms tight around you, your tiny body snuggled all the way against him. Your head is buried by his neck as your arms wrap around him. He kisses the top of your head.

He’s got you forever now. You’re here. Now he never wants you to leave.

You move your head. You want to nuzzle your face in his shoulder.

He lets you, his cheek brushing against yours, your hair covering you like a blanket.

“Hey,” he murmurs. It’s all he can say.

His heart is racing, his breathing fast and sharp. Your skin feels like clouds beneath the pads of his fingers.

He loves it when you lay on him like this. Even before, when it was all just platonic, he found it endearing. He’s never met anyone who makes him want to protect them like he does you.

Right here, right now—with you in his arms—he’s the happiest he’s ever been. He hopes you know just how much he loves you.

You can feel your heart thumping, and blood rushes to your cheeks as you take in his scent. You feel safe.

He lets you have the final spot; there’s no rush.

He’s yours now.

And you’re his.

Forever.

[k-4-ni]

Jason is watching you as he stands by the bed, his hands in his pockets, his body as still as a statue.

He wants to hold you in his arms. And in the dark of night, with the sheets rustling and the curtains billowing, he wants to kiss you more than he’s ever wanted to kiss anyone before.

He wants you. So much.

He watches your chest rise and fall until he can’t take it anymore, and in a silent rush of movement, Jason climbs into the bed with you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace.

He pulls you close, burying his face in your hair and breathing in the scent that he loves so much.

His mouth finds your neck, and he kisses you where the skin is soft and sensitive, and his hands grip your waist with an ever-present lightness, as if he’s afraid of hurting you.

Jason’s fingers brush against your thigh, caressing you in a way that would have given you shivers any other night, but now there is nothing, no words or promises, just two humans in love, in the dark, in bed, and they are at peace.

[k-4-ni]

summary: the difference between Jason and Dick

Warning(s): NSFW, SMUT, mentions of handjobs, p in v sex and dirty phrases.

SUBMISSIVE BOYS (Dick Grayson) who just can't help but whimper and moan beneath you, gazing up at you through their lashes with the most pleading expression glistening in them, their hips violently rutting against your hand, their nails digging and clenching into the sheets as they desperately chased after their own release, tears brimming the corner of their eyes.

"Please, B-Baby– I'll be a good boy, J-Just for you— Just please, let me cum!"

DOMINANT MEN (Jason Todd) who at first stroke their cock in nice and slow, sensually rubbing against your sweet and savoury walls that clench around him so well, their swollen and angry tip kissing that sponge spot deep inside of you.

"Please, Baby— Ooh god— Please, I n-need to cum—Aah, Fuck your hand strokes me so well!"

With each passing second, their patience thins, his hips that were once rocking into you at a painfully slow pace—just to get you to adjust to his meaty size—were now desperately slamming against you, his balls slapping against your ass, his hips repeatedly nudging the back of your thighs as his cock stretched you out so well.

"Fuck— Angel, you take me so well, just like that— milk every drop of cum out of me."

"Come on baby, One more— One more for me, Come on be my good girl and let me fuck this little pussy senseless."

[k-4-ni]

summary: Jason Todd with a virgin!reader

warnings: Mentions of sh/self-harm, smut, NSFW, slight nipple-play, thigh-riding, grinding, terribly rushed towards the end (sorry).

PAINT THE SHEETS RED.

He would be stunned to know that you are a virgin, surprised would be an understatement, Astonished even, that fact that no one has marked or kissed those pretty pouty lips sends his mind into a frenzy, and the fact that he will be the first to get under your clothes and ravage you like the meal you are sends all the blood rushing to his southern areas.

Although his desire is growing and burning in the pits of his stomach, although his thirst and lust for you might turn him feral with the thought of his cock and only his cock being the first to paint those pretty pink walls a pearly white, he wants to take this slow— he'll wait. Even if it eats at him from the inside— he'll wait until you two have bonded, until a relationship has blossomed, a trusting relationship.

When the time comes, and the time will, he won't be able to hold himself back, he won't be able to control his hunger, the poor man has been starving himself just so you could get comfortable around him, just so the guilt of forcing you to feel uncomfortable won't pressure him into feeling shame, shame littering his wrists with red cuts of remorse.

The second the words spill from your lips, you don't need to tell him twice, he already has you pinned to the couch, his hips pressing you down as his lips devoured yours in a desperate manner, he cant control himself anymore, his tongue is already plunging deep into the depths of your mouth, rubbing up against the inside of your cheeks, your teeth, your lips, the roof of your mouth, not an inch of you is not marked with a wet trail of saliva.

He's practically shaking, his shaky fingers roaming his fingers over the flesh of your thighs and hips, his fingers squeezing and kneading the flesh of your waist, he let out a string of muffled groans as his fingers slipped to the valley between your breasts, his thumb swiping and teasing the hardened nipple that pierced through your flimsy shirt.

He told himself that he shouldn't rush this, rush this precious moment, this milestone but how couldn't he? He couldn't tease you if he wanted to, his mind clouded with the things he could pleasure you with, the positions he wanted you withering and moaning in.

He didn't give you space to breathe, just how you like it, his mouth breathing and swallowing every string of moans that slipped from your lips, his hips pressing down against your aching folds as he spread wet kisses all over your chin, he'd be constantly asking you if what he was doing was okay, if you felt good and comfortable enough for him to continue with hips and his fingers.

"Is this okay, baby? Does that feel good? I just want to see you moan baby, I want you to feel good, Angel, that's right—moan for me, let me hear those pretty moans..."

A big, big praising type of guy, he'd only degrade you in a tender tone if he were to punish you, but that's not until a few decades where'd he finally find the courage to.

You'd find yourself desperately rutting your hips against his, that pulsing and throbbing between your legs becoming more and more uncomfortable, even with the slickness that coated the thin material of your panties, and that's what made Jason click.

He'd grind his thigh against the divot of your folds, biting his lip as he added that sweet, delicious amount of pressure against you, his fingers kneading, squeezing and digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he forcefully rocked you back and forth, encouraging you with a slow yet rough pace.

"Tell me that feels good, baby— yeah... Do you like that angel? Oh god, you're already making a mess on my jeans..."

You felt your stomach tense and coil, an unfamiliar intense sensation as you felt your soon release pinch your clit, your toes curled as he bent down over you, his tongue darting over your lips outlining them and tasting you with fierce vigour, his lips supple and pouty making the kiss ever so sloppy and hot,

Finally, he'd pull back his thigh once he sucked in every whimper and moan that quivered your lips, feeling you throb through his jeans before sliding his arms underneath your thighs, gripping the flesh and hovering you above his hip.

He's the type to kick the door down, not bothering to slide it open as he gently placed you on top of your shared bed, an amusing grin curling at the ends of his lips as his lips smashed against yours once more, his pace is fast— desperate and rushed.

His fingers already fumbled with the buckle of his belt, fidgeting with the leather.

A/N: LISTEN I know this was short, not really but I know this didn't have enough spice so I think I might make a part 2?????

[k-4-ni]

He's so fucking pretty.

He's so bbg omgggg