[dorims]

⋆ ˚｡i wanna do bad things with you⋆｡°

gia (23) ♉︎ she.her latina eng.spa

𑣲𝔀ally west’s lover ⋆˙⟡ 𑣲𝓳ason todd’s sweet girl

todo mi amor lo guardo aquí ｡𖦹°‧ m.list

© dorims.

[dorims]

i caught you looking back, so let's go.

'jason makes a mean pasta' he knows this, everyone does, however, its different to hear it coming from you while he's outside your apartment window — not in a weird way though! he lives here! you just happen to be having a girls night and bursting in with his red hood gear doesn't sound like a plan.

pairing. jason todd x fem!reader wc. 2.4k warnings. alcohol consumption (wine), maybe MAYBE ooc!jason todd pretty please forgive me if thats the case i swear i tried my best, english is not my first language a/n. first fic!! might delete later!! also my first time writing in present tense lol i always use past but i wanted to spice things up a bit. enjoy!!

dividers by @/pixopix

“Jason makes a mean pasta.” You groan at the memory. Everyone else in your living room enthusiastically agrees, voices mixing with some soft jazz playing in the background.

Patrol had been uneventful, as uneventful as a night in Gotham could be. Perhaps that’s what got him to clock out from his shift earlier than usual without taking into account the girls’ night you are hosting in your shared living room.

Now, he is trapped on the balcony, eavesdropping on all the ruckus coming from inside. His helmet is off, sitting right next to his thigh, and the wind is kind against his flushed skin, comforting.

He can hear the clinking of glasses, probably the ones you had bought at a thrift store on your first date after moving in together. Then laughter, before a cork pops. Another bottle is being opened, and he is sure this wasn’t the first of the night.

After all, you had stuck three in the fridge earlier this afternoon.

Four voices inside, including yours, cheer after the wine is poured. Laughter follows once again.

“He needs to teach Jeremy how to work around the kitchen.” One of your friends— Olivia, he thinks— sighs. “Last time he tried making pasta, we had firefighters called on us.”

Jessica, he is at least 75% sure it's her, interrupts, taking another sip of her wine. “He’s a good cook, babes, not a miracle worker.”

You chuckle into your cup, “He’s an amazing cook, actually.”

Everyone coos. Jason blushes. He considers taking a round trip around the building, entering your apartment from the bedroom window and staying holed up in there until everyone leaves. But he isn’t moving. He doesn’t want to, now that he’s privy to the conversation you were having — that and the fact that he’s sure he had locked it before leaving.

“Can you at least host another dinner party before bragging?” Olivia groans. He can hear her pour herself another glass of wine. You hum in response, scooting closer to your friend so she can lean her head on the crook of your neck.

“You want carbonara again?” You thread your fingers through her hair, and she sighs. The last one to speak– Lily, Jason takes a guess– interrupts her before she can respond.

“I do.” She takes a sip of her wine, letting out a contented sigh afterwards. “I missed out on you guys’ last one, remember?”

Jessica whistles lowly under her breath. It catches everyone’s attention. “Boy, did you miss out on so much.” 

At Lily’s confusion, she sighs and nods your way. When she raises her brow, you tilt your head.

“What do you mean?” you ask, confusion lacing your voice. Jason could hear it from a mile away. It piques his own curiosity, and he can’t help but lean in.

“What do you mean, ‘what do I mean’?” Jessica laughs. “I’m talking about your obnoxious display of domesticity.”

You shake your head. “I don’t understand.”

Jessica groans, but she is still smiling, a twinkle of warmth in her eyes. “Between Jason and you?”

Olivia bursts into a fit of giggles before you can respond. Some of her wine splashes inside her glass and you are quick to grab it from her hands, putting it back on the wooden table.

“It was the sweetest thing, Lils,” she gets a hold of your arm and nuzzles her cheek against it, before launching into a spiel. “They were so in sync, like, Jer and I arrived way too early and they were still making, I think it was… ugh what was it?”

She looks up at you, still pressing herself close. It makes you smile. “Garlic bread.”

“Right!” Her attention is back on Lily. The latter nods, invested. She doesn’t dare interrupt the story. “And he’s like, chopping the baguette in these identical-sized bites, meanwhile you,” her eyes are on you now, “were chopping garlic in tiny little squares and before you could ask for butter, he was handing you butter and a bowl to mix the two and he like—” 

She interrupts herself, shaking you in place with a squeal, and you laugh, heart full. Jason melts at the sound. His eyes are closed, reminiscing on that night. 

He had been stressed out of his mind, hoping to make some good food and a good impression, when the doorbell had rung. Things weren’t ready yet.

“It’s okay, Livy’s always early,” you had reassured him, squeezed his bicep, placed a kiss on his cheek. “Either that, or extremely late.” 

He had sighed, focusing back on the cutting board. Olivia and Jeremy had stayed put at the breakfast bar, talking and looking as you guys cooked, entranced by the way he had handed you another knife before you could even ask. How he had opened the fridge and handed you the butter. How, after you had put everything in the microwave to melt together, you had opened the oven and pulled the right-sized baking pan from the four you had stored. It had looked perfectly choreographed– you had not crashed into each other, not once. 

“I’ve never seen you more in love in all our years of friendship!” Olivia squeals and you freeze in place. You can feel your body warming up from the inside, and a stupid sheepish grin forces itself  onto your lips.

“Shut up!” you drag out the syllables in mock complaint, shaking your friend back and making her squeal even more. Before the two of you could fall on the floor in a heap of giggles, you chug the remains of your wine and place your glass on the table, missing the coaster.

“Oh, you’re soooo in love with your Jason!” Olivia keeps on egging you, freeing herself from you to hide behind Jessica, who caught that last interaction on camera.

Trying to catch your breath, you lean against the couch before asking: “My what?” 

“Your Jason,” Lily tilts her head and responds with an amused grin.

“Stop itttt,” you launch yourself onto the comfy couch. Your breathing stalls for a second as you bite your cheek, lost in thought. “Actually,” you pause, eyes shimmering with nothing but delight, “say it again.”

“Say what?” Jessica teases. “‘Your Jason’?”

The squeal you let out sounds muffled. He could picture the scene in perfect detail: some sort of elatedness brightens your face as you get a hold of one of the throw pillows on the couch. You burrow your face in it and the girls laugh alongside you.

In the absence of something to hide his own delight with, Jason bites his lower lip. He looks up at the night sky, uncommonly clear, and sighs. He is sure you are going to be the death of him.

The laughter dies down and he can hear footsteps, the clinking of a bottle, and the way you shift your weight on the couch. 

You hug the pillow, looking at the ceiling. “It’s just, I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?” Lily asks as she takes the empty bottle and leaves it in the sink. Then, she pulls the fridge open, taking the last bottle you had stashed along with a sparkling water, before joining you again.

“I don’t know,” your glass is empty now, but you feel so full– with your friends, with your love, and with a lot of wine. It is warm in your tummy, spreading through your limbs until it reaches up, up, up and messes with your head in the endearing way wine tends to do. “I like like him way too much, like I get, I don’t know, stupid about him.”

“Yeah but you’ve been stupid about him since you met him.” 

Consider Jason’s interest piqued. He relaxes against the wall and listens.

“You know it’s true.” Jessica raises her glass at you, Lily having already refilled it for her.

From outside, Jason can hear the pillow falling on the ground as you sit up. You pay it no mind, scooting towards the edge of the couch. The glass of wine, now empty, makes a clinking noise as you pick it up before extending it in Lily’s direction; another one.

A sip and you are already fueled up, ready to defend yourself against the ‘chalant’ allegations they were trying to raise against you. “Actually, it’s not.”

Jessica deadpans, and you know that you are fighting a losing battle. You can tell from Lily’s conspiratorial smile and Olivia’s giggles. 

“You literally changed the route you take on your morning walks just so you could see him.” 

“To be fair,” off to a great start, “I like to switch them up here and there,” you shrug. Frustration, or perhaps a wave of self-cringe, washes over you as you recount the familiar story. Perhaps another sip of wine could help? Yeah, it definitely will — you let out a puff of air and murmur through clenched teeth. “Plus, it's not like it worked. I barely saw him after that.”

“AHA! So you agree, then! You did change it just to run into him!”

“Well, no! I changed it because I get bored otherwise.” 

They don’t look convinced. Like a petulant child, you avoid eye contact. Good god, you are burying yourself in chalantness at this point. “And sure, whatever, the thought of running into him did motivate me a little, sue me.”

The three break out in a choir of cheers and Jason can’t believe what he is hearing. He can easily make out one of them shouting ‘Stupid, I tell you!’ followed by a dreamy ‘You were soooo smitten!’. He joins the ruckus with laughter of his own, although he smothers it down with his hand to avoid getting caught. 

All that teasing is making him blush, the giddiness in his chest bubbling up to a boiling point. He is so gonna make fun of you later, risking the possibility of you calling him a hypocrite after he comes clean.

“If its of any consolation,” Lily jumps in, “he looked extremely stupid about you too.”

“Really?” A saccharine sweet intrigue forces your voice to jump half an octave. An excited tilt pushes your curiosity to the edge of its seat.

Lily hums in agreement. “We could all tell.”

“From a distance too!” Olivia chimes in, once again all excited.

Sheepishness tints his cheeks. Again, it's teasing his skin with a rosy hue that looks just like it did back then, he is sure. And of course, he can’t deny its true: he had been stupid about you since the very first day he met you.

The girls left right when his patrol was supposed to end. He watched you kiss and hug the three of them goodbye, and only make your way back once you were sure they made it to their cab safe and sound. 

The promise of rain waltzes through the night. His gaze follows the retreating taillights, blending with the horizon. He can hear the way you hum from inside the apartment, picking the remaining glasses and plates; you had basically shooed the girls away before they could even offer their help cleaning up.

The clinking of ceramic and glass mix and melt with the playlist still on loop pouring from a speaker, though at a lower volume now — the neighbours are sleeping after all. He doesn’t know what does it exactly– either the soft jazz, or the sound of your sock clad feet dancing against the floorboards– or perhaps it’s the sound of you existing peacefully after a night full of laughter, but something bigger than him forces his eyes closed and his body to melt against the brick wall once more.

However, and considering how engrossed he was in the sound of your humming, he should’ve noticed the moment you stopped. The sound of you turning on your heels should've snapped him out of it. Instead, it was a wooden creek that did.

“You’ve been here all night?” you pop your head out of the window with a knowing smile. He turns quickly in your direction, wide-eyed, but his startled state lasts no more than a second. It dissipates quickly after he soaks in the image of you. One of your arms rests on the windowsill, the other holding the bottom rail in place.

You are wearing one of his sweatshirts, one that reaches way past your hands and you have to roll the sleeves at least four times. The chunkiness of said cuffs tends to be a bother, you insist on wearing his clothes just because. 

“How’d you know I was here?” Jason smiles back, eyes crinkling at the edges with utter endearment. There’s a soft layer of sleep that coats yours, making them slightly droopy, but it’s mixed with bliss and he can feel the way it's spreading to him, taking over his chest.

“Had a hunch,” you shrug, grinning wider. “That, and I can see your helmet all the way from the kitchen.”

Your eyes drop to his side, and he follows suit. The snitch in question seems to be grinning back at him. 

You don’t tell him, however, that it had been only you who caught the revealing detail, nor that the only reason you caught it was because you are so used to looking for him no matter where you are, like a sixth sense. 

Instead, you chuckle, smiling so widely and hoping that he could tell everything he means to you just from that alone.

“Come inside, you dork,” he grins at you, dusty pink, and you chuckle, moving to the side to grant him entrance.

He settles into the rhythm you had established, a dance you are both familiar with. He dries the glasses you rinse, then puts them away. You pick up the pillows on the floor, pass them to him. He fluffs them, like you taught him to, and places them neatly on the couch. You stretch lazily, leaning your whole weight against him, and he rests his cheek on top of your head, his arms circling your waist. The two of you scan the living room in tandem.

The music is off, the speaker is resting safely on a shelf and the silence stretches for a little too long.

“So,” his voice is soft, with a teasing edge to it. You can feel it reverberating through his body as he gently, and almost imperceptible, rocks you side to side. Something’s coming. You hum anyway. “I heard you changed your hot girl walk route for me?”

“Oh, shut up!” you laugh, pulling away and slapping his arm gently. “Bet you would’ve done the same!”

He joins in on the laughter and follows after you like a puppy when you walk towards the bedroom, trying to pull you back in.

Most definitely, he thinks, you were gonna call him a hypocrite.

a/n. jason todd?? a hypocrite??? hopefully that will motivate me to write a some more and dive a little deeper into his hypocrisy (hypebole, he’s the sweetest) let me know what yall thought about this one!! but be kind bc im sensitive lol and if anyone has any idea about what i meant by hypocrite i would absolutely love to hear all your thoughts, ask box is always open <3

[dorims]

NEW THEME HELLO THIS IS SO GORG MY CUTIEFUL SUMMER GIRL 😋

HI DRIA ILYSM THANK YOU!! i was in dire need of a rebrand i fear 🙂‍↕️

[pixopix]

hi! could you recolor this set in #8A0F0F ? or a green in hex code #64A70B , either one is totally fine!

TY SO MUCH IN ADVANCE IF YOU GET TO THIS <33333/P

Please credit @pixopix, likes and reblogs are appreciated!

Check out the other colors of this set.

[honeyluvsw]

maroon & brown pngs ! free to use! likes and reblogs appreciated :)

[honeyluvsw]

── ✶ VINTAGE CAR/MECHANIC DIVIDERS !

please credit ; like & reblog to use, thanks <3

[dorims]

why is finding a pfp sooooo hard

[designlikenonsense]

p.s. one day i will find a ribbon i can fill in, i pinky promise

p.p.s. also yes, I know the date is wrong... I meant to do this yesterday

[slniecko]

One time, when I was super drunk and staring at the spinning ceiling of my dorm room, a strange thought came into my head. While thinking about him and the inevitability of his departure – mixed with the despair of feeling too much when time wasn’t enough – my mind needed a way to make myself believe that it was all real. That I didn’t somehow make it up. That when he’s back home, sitting on that damned flight, it’s not like he never existed. It’s a matter of heart more than it is a matter of the brain, I’m completely aware – but for some reason, that night, I needed a way to prove to myself that what we had was factual. That it wasn’t just my brain playing tricks on me. I won’t be foolish to think back to it in a way that matters, because it did matter – and how do I know?

Well, the only thing my mind took as proof in that moment weren’t the clothes he left behind – not the light brown sweatpants and a white T-shirt that smelled like him so much I slept in it for two nights straight – or the pictures and videos of our drunken endeavors in my gallery. It also wasn’t the tales I’d tell or the diary pages soaked in the pain of my existence for the last few months. No. What my mind decided to take as proof of our closeness, our “relationship” – even though it wasn’t ever truly defined, how he said himself a whole year later, randomly wandering into our Whatsapp chat to catch up on life after  the pains long disappeared – it was the simple fact that we spent all 24 hours of the day together. 

It’s a funny concept, I get it. A silly one. I told my friend about it once, and she didn’t really understand – and I can’t blame her. It’s a strange thing to think about, one you can only ever really come up with when your system is running on last drops of vodka mixed with iced tea you had that night. But it’s fairly simple, really. We spent each and every hour of the day together. And I don’t mean at one time – just minutes and hours scattered across the 24 hours on different days, our bodies in each other’s presence.

Me and him usually spent the time frame between 4 pm to midnight, sometimes even 2 am (depending on my schedule next day and whether I had to wake up for my 8 am class) together. It was our usual time. We would meet at his dorm room and watch a movie before we would slowly fall into each other, our bodies finding comfort in each other’s touch. 

The only night we spent together was on our trip to Bratislava. It left me feeling bitter, unwanted and rejected – for it was the night I wanted his body more than he wanted mine – and even though I still find it hard to move on from it, at least it added to the 24-hour time span. It was proof.

We didn’t leave the capital until 1 pm that time. The missing hours were added on the day he had to fly back home. We never did much, but at least we were together. It was real – our connection. We weren’t meeting just in after hours. I meant more to him than the timeframe between 4 pm to midnight.

I hadn’t thought of this concept for a long time. It only appeared in my mind again a whole year later – a stupid coincidence, another pisces man I let play with my heart. But this time, the realization shattered me.

No 24 hours. Not even a full 12. We spent many evenings together, spilling secrets to each other on abandoned playgrounds and behind roaring clubs, but the timeframe was always the same. Nine pm to 2 am. Five hours of the 24 we have in the day.

I never saw him in the daylight. We never went to each other’s dorm room, never cuddled on the coach. We never went to Bratislava. We didn’t take the train together. We never took that damned polaroid. There’s no proof of me ever being in his life – other than the blurry selfies in my phone. For all I know, in his life, it’s almost like I never even existed.

I have no proof of our closeness. No factual information I could point my finger at. He never introduced me to his friends. He never even asked me out. And you know what that means?

Perhaps, it never really happened. It never really mattered, and

I made it all up.

[slugspoon]

foliage

[merletka]

Does anyone remember my Jason adopts an ugly cat au??? I came back with part 2 all of a sudden hah

Part 1 here

[merletka]

I don't know how to explain this I just wanted Jason to adopt an ugly cat

[grvcesssss]

8 years ago today succession premiered on hbo

[dorims]

@sakunai

[sakunai]

puerto rican [nuyorican] jason ! as your boyfie. pairing ! jason todd x fem!reader wc ! 1.8k warnings ! fluff to smut. sub!jason. handjob. slight orgasm denial. cum eating. based on these requests and ii. 📓 i really yapped alot on this one y’all my apologies 🙏🏾

art creds : @/realstickii

now playing ! bellacoso — residente & bad bunny 🎧

newyorican! bf jason who grew up around noise. his childhood was loud, sometimes a little messy, dodging cops in Crime Alley but always making it back to his block just in time for somebody’s abuela to call out to him from a window with a jace, come! pastelillos! it’s one of the few fond memories he has, that he was never hungry for long and he never ate alone.

newyorican! bf jason who by extension is naturally a good cook. most of his memories are of tightly packed kitchens at somebody’s house where by the sweat of his brow and a million whacks with a wooden spoon in the hands of somebody’s tía that’s now his tía, he learned.

newyorican! bf jason whose love language is food. he’s an absolute monster in the kitchen, makes the best pernil in gotham and will brag about it because that shit falls off the bone, tendernism! if you’re sick, he’s cooking. you’re sad? he’s cooking. sigh a little bit too loud and he’s already grabbing the pots. he doesn’t play about sunday dinners. he will do meal prep the night before if he needs to. he’s usually the one with random cravings in the middle of the night, so you will be woken up and offered food.

newyorican! bf jason whose texts you can expect like clockwork when he’s out on patrol.

Today, 9:54 PM

jacey 💋 :

mamisota

did you eat yet?

love you ❤️

Today, 9:55 PM

you :

yeah, i got something earlier dw

stay safe, love you too ❤️

Today, 9:57 PM

jacey 💋 :

⤷ replied to you : ‘yeah, i got something earlier dw’

real food?

you :

… i mean, it was takeout so, i think?

jacey 💋 :

put some coffee on and wait for me, i’ll come make u something after

newyorican! bf jason whose love for food — the patience when it comes to preparation, the pride when you compliment him or go for seconds — transfers to his relationship with you. he’s attentive, noticing your every need like when he’s frying plantains and has to make sure they don’t burn. he’s devoted, you’re his only one, his girl, the one that feels like home, so he brings you café con leche in the mornings from his favorite spot with a spoon of condensed milk and a splash of vanilla just like he used to do for his mom. he feeds your body, and your soul.

newyorican! bf jason who understands way more spanish than he speaks. his grammar is bad and he forgets words — he’ll switch to spanish halfway in a sentence only when a word clicks or nod along to someone’s fast paced spanish and respond completely in english. he murmurs diablo, puñeta, me jodí, me mamé at every minor inconvenience though. you learn quickly the difference between cabrón and cabrón.

newyorican! bf jason whose spanglish really does kick in when he’s stressed, tired or worse, turned on. he calls you everything from the classic mi amor and mami to mi vida, mi diosa, and bebesota with that low, needy voice. your name is not even uttered after the first few weeks.

newyorican! bf jason who teaches you slang thinking it’ll be a cute little inside joke but you end up unironically using it against him. suddenly you’re calling him a lambe bicho in his own house.

newyorican! bf jason who is sooo easy to ragebait. call him a no sabo kid please. say something exaggerated and pronounced incorrectly i beg you.

“holaaa,” you drawl, sidestepping him where jason stood in the kitchen, back hunched over the stove and tongue peeking out in concentration — that task at hand being : watch the plantains fry in the pot. “bueños días.”

“stop,” he grumbles, side eyeing you then looking back to the pan. “it’s nine in the morning, please.”

“que paso, handsome?” your arms slip around his middle as you curl up into his side. “i’m gonna burn the plantains again, shoo,” jason complained, bumping you with his hip and you whined.

“my pretty boy’s so mean to me....” you sigh dramatically, then press a kiss to the side of his jaw with a mischievous hum. “but so handsome... muy guapo.” the uptick of his mouth into a little smile gives him away before he turns to you and meets your lips in a sweet kiss, melting immediately at the praise.

the smell of the plantains breaks the moment. “puñeta— the fucking things are burning—!”

newyorican! bf jason who hates silence. he grew up around noise, loud laughter, even louder conversations where everybody talks at once, kids screaming so loud you could hear them from the other end of the block. and music, so much music. he’s playing music while he cleans his guns, mouthing along to the lyrics, while he cooks.

newyorican! bf jason who sings. sings in the shower, randomly bursts out into a song for no reason, makes up random lyrics on the spot, serenades you (badly) and who thinks singing is the solution to get your attention, especially when you’re mad at him. you’re giving him the silent treatment after he pissed you off and the moment you come out of the bathroom he’s on his knees singing, “pleaaaseeee, ohh-ohhh, won’t do it agaaiiin, pleaaaaseeee— give me one more chaaance—”

newyorican! bf jason who swears he doesn’t dance, but once there’s any sort of rhythm, he’s twirling you in his arms and pulling you into his chest for a slow dance, murmuring praises in your ear, oh his beautiful girl...

newyorican! bf jason who falls apart under your touch everytime, and you can’t help but love how scatterbrained he gets when it comes to you.

“Thaaat’s it, look at me in my eyes while I fuck you, baby.”

Jason’s head fell back against the couch at your words, his chest heaving. The moonlight made the walls of his apartment glow crimson, lighting the sheen of sweat on his tan skin, dark curls sticking to his forehead.

His thighs were spread wide, shirt unbuttoned at the front where the heatweave hit him the most during tonight’s blackout, and his jeans shoved down just enough for your hand to work him properly.

“Fuck… baby, just like that,” he groaned, voice rough as your fist twisted around the head of his swollen cock on the upstroke, slick with his own spit and precum, stroking him just how you knew he liked it. “God, you feel so good… shit, it’s so fuckin’ sensitive.”

“Mhm?” You grinned wolfishly, your fingertips smearing the stringy mess of arousal all over the tip of him, and he twitched in your hand as you picked up the pace again. “I said look at me,” you demanded, your other hand grasping his jaw and a whimper left his throat.

“Christ— okay, I’m looking—” his eyes, all glazed over and watery, his eyelashes fluttering, threatening to fall closed with ecstasy stared up at where you straddled his lap with ease. “Just keep doing that, baby, please…”

You squeezed his throbbing cock in your fist once, then twice, and started stroking him faster, the slick, wet sounds of flesh on flesh echoing in the room. “You’re so good when you want it this bad,” you giggled.

Jason’s abs flexed hard, his thighs trembling.

“Ah—ay, fuck!” he hissed, eyes squeezing shut, his hips bucking up without meaning to. “Así, así, así… fuuuck—just like that, ma.” Jason’s hand shot down to grip your wrist, his mind dizzy from the stimulation as his hips fucked up into your fist desperately, chasing it. “Jesus— fuck, you have me talkin’ Spanish—”

“Didn’t I tell you to do something?” You leaned in, your lips brushing the side of his jaw. He let out a broken moan as his eyes opened again, and this time you leaned down to kiss him, his shoulders trembling with each moan released against your lips.

“You’re driving me crazy—” His voice cracked, his other hand moving to grip the back of your neck to steady himself, as if he was on the verge of passing out. “Oh fuck— shit, wait, that’s too much—”

“Shh, take it,” You twisted your wrist slower, up then down, then right over the head again, thumb pressing against that sensitive spot underneath that made him see stars, and he let out a wrecked sound that went straight between your legs.

“Don’t do this to me— please, please, I’m so fuckin’ close—”

“Oh, my big man,” you cooed, a glint of amusement in your eyes. “Say it properly.”

“Me estás matando…” Jason laughed breathlessly, the sound turning into a broken moan as you squeezed him tighter. “Do you wanna kill me? Is that it—”

You kissed him soft and sweet, and he melted against your lips, up until you stroked him faster again, and he shivered from the sudden stimulation just before you withdrew your hand completely, his cock slapping against his stomach with neglect.

“Mamisota…” he whined.

You hissed your teeth at him. “Beg, properly.”

“I’ll be good, I’ll be so fuckin’ good, I swear,” he whimpered, the words slipping out shaky and desperate. His hips twitched, trying to fuck up against your palm, but you only barely grazed his leaky cock with your fingertips. “No me hagas esto… I’m so close already. Please, please, I’m begging you. I need to cum so bad—”

You sighed long and low, feigning annoyance as you granted him mercy. “You’re lucky you sound so pretty…” you grumbled, taking him in your fist again, your palm hot and soft around his aching cock and the feel of you made his eyes water.

“Coño… fuck—” He forced his eyes to stay open and locked on you, as he stroked the short hairs at the nape of your neck. “I’m— yeah, like that— I’m right there— let me cum, please…”

“Cum for me…” you whispered against his ear. “You can do it, it’s okay. I want you to, baby.”

Jason’s head snapped back again, eyes squeezing shut momentarily before his eyes went wide followed by a string of guttural groans. “Oh my God— fuck, mami, I’m gonna cum!” He held you tight against his chest as hips stuttered hard, thighs shaking and cock pulsing violently in your hand as he reached his peak.

Thick ropes of cum spilled over your fist, coating your fingers, dripping down the length of his shaft and he buried his face in your hair, cursing under his breath as his body jerked with every pulse until he was completely spent.

When he finally sagged against the couch, chest still rising and falling fast, he looked at you with a lazy, fucked-out grin, seizing your messy hand by the wrist and bringing it to his mouth.

“Yo voy pa’ encimotaaa,” he sang, voice hoarse and you burst out laughing, watching as he took your fingers into his mouth, licking each of them clean. Then he tugged you in for a messy kiss, singing against your lips once more, “Baby, estás buenotaaa—”

“Enough, oh my gosh…” you guffawed, hiding your face in his neck.

Jason huffed a laugh. “Give me three minutes, I’ll deal with you.”

newyorican! bf jason who is utterly whipped for you.

🗒️ tagging : @unicvnthlle who requested . browser & scroll dividers by @/honeyluvsw, chain divider by @/chrisssiren, art by @/realstickii on x

[perleore]

ꮼ premature ejaculation with inexperienced!jason todd (18+)

He's hovered over you, his deep green eyes fluttering closed as the head of his cock tentatively brushes along your slick folds. The slow drag is torturous, this drawn-out tension that's got you on edge, but he freezes up, too wrapped in his own doubts. Panic twists in his gut. This already feels too fucking good, way too intense for someone like him who's barely dipped a toe into this.

"Come on... ‘s okay baby. You can put it in," you gently urge, your voice a raw whisper of desperation, but his thoughts are a whirlwind, second-guessing every move. He jerks his head side to side, refusing.

“Can’t yet…” his face buries into the curve of your neck, a soft whimper escaping as he nudges the tip against your opening. It teases right at the edge, slipping in just a fraction and your walls instantly squeeze and gush around it, but he pulls back every time.

A frustrated whimper escapes you. "Jay, why are you holding back so hard?" Your fingers slide up the smooth expanse of his bare back, nails slightly scratching the scarred skin. He quakes at the touch, leaning into it like a lifeline.

"I can't... fuck, ohmygod..." he stammers as your hands soothe him, making his throbbing cock twitch against you. Hot tears start splashing onto your skin, right at the collarbone. "Don't wanna screw this up and hurt you. I'm not... I don't even know if I can do it right."

"What'd really hurt is you stopping yourself from feeling good ‘cause you’re scared," you soothe, tugging him down until his weight settles against you, arms looping around his neck in a firm hold. "You know I love you, Jay."

Your soft encouragement shatters his fragile control, sending him tumbling over the brink. His cock twitches wildly, barely notched at your opening, as thick, erratic spurts of cum erupt from him—coating your cunt in sticky warmth, some dribbling inside just a fraction. He gasps, body jerking in clumsy spasms, face burning with shame as the pathetic reality hits: he's spilled everywhere without even getting started, like some fumbling kid who couldn't hold it together. Humiliation floods him, cheeks flaming red, a choked sob bubbling up because he feels so small, so utterly inadequate in this vulnerable strip-down of himself.

"Oh shit—sorry, fuck—"

You silence him with a gentle press of lips to his, palms framing his flushed face, thumbs sweeping away the tear tracks streaking his cheeks. "No, don’t be sorry. ‘Can always try again, hm?”

[vianawaits]

Don't forget to kiss me

Summary & CW:  Fluff, friends w/ benefits, based on glue song by beabadobee, yearner wally

Pairing: Wally West x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 0.7k

A/N: Another piece out the Kiln! Thank you to the anon who requested this and for participating! I hope you all enjoy <3333

This is the best view he’s ever seen.

Wally West was one of the- if not the fastest man alive. He could be anywhere within seconds, allowing him access to the most breathtaking places on the planet.

But right here, with you passed out in his bed? He doesn’t think he’s ever seen something more beautiful.

It was around two in the morning. Realistically, he should be asleep, there were a million things with his name on it once morning comes and you were going to leave early for work. There was just something about you that always enraptured him.

It was impossible for him not to be in a trance when he was around you. He couldn’t help it, he absorbed everything you did, everything you smiled at, everything that made your head tilt to the side.

He was obsessed.

Wally had never met anyone like you. No one laughed the same way you did, they always missed the way your left eye squinted more. No one gave him that look you always wore when he made a stupid joke, the smirk you tried to hide with a raised eyebrow. No one took up all his thoughts like you did, he couldn’t run past a cute animal without stopping to send you a picture.

It was simple.

He was in love with you.

There was no way around it. Despite how much he tried to hide it, he knew.

There was just one small problem.

You weren’t doing the “relationship thing” right now.

After too many shitty dates and even eviler exes, you swore off dating for the rest of the year. There was no hiding his relief when you decided on it. Every time you called him with some nightmare about your antichrist of the month, he bit his tongue till it bled.

And thanks to him, celibacy only lasted you about five weeks.

It was some Thursday night two months ago, you were hanging out on his couch playing Overcooked 2 together. Laughs were mixed in with cursing, orders were echoing off the walls in his crappy apartment. One thing led to another and Wally had saved this level by serving pizza with mere seconds to spare.

When you thanked him, a cheeky grin you knew all too well grew on his face. He tapped his cheek and gave you a, “don’t forget to kiss me.”

Deciding to one up him at his own game, you grabbed his face with your right hand and pressed your lips to his.

It was the most divine kiss Wally had ever blessed to receive. It’s safe to assume the game was forgotten for what remained of the night.

You both talked about it later, the possibility of being more one day. It just wasn’t in the cards right now considering the paths you were currently on. There were cities you wanted to live in, the career ladder you wanted climb, and Wally….

Well, he was saving the world.

He couldn’t promise you that he was going to come home every night. He couldn’t promise that he was always going to be safe. Hell, he couldn’t even promise that he’d always be on the planet.

So for now, this was enough.

Anything that involved, regarded, or even revolved around you was more than anything he could ever ask for. Even if you weren’t his completely, Wally couldn’t think of something he would trade this for.

To see you like this, it was everything. The moonlight bouncing off your back as his fingers traced ran up and down it. Your hair fanned out on the pillow as it caught the perfume you wore. It was almost funny how your limbs were spread all over the mattress. He was notably bigger than you, and yet you still managed to take up 75% of the bed. But he didn’t complain.

Wally would live the rest of his life on the edge of the bed if it meant he woke up tangled with you.

And as a promise to the night, right before he drifts off, he kisses you. Leaning over the mess of your arms, he drops a chaste kiss to the center of your back. A small shiver from you is the only indication that you may have felt it in your dreams.

“I love you.”

The words are breathed onto your spine like they’re tattooed on his.

Then, his head lands on his pillow, your perfume somehow traveled over to this one too. And the last sight he sees as cinnamon lulls him to bed, is the small smile you wore when you slept. That finally brings him enough peace to be dragged into slumber, preparing for another day with you.

•───────•°•♡•°•───────•

Taglists All: @gglouise23 @demigod-jack-hearth @batslilwhore @t1mbits @princessak @slut4hotppl @bat1nsignia @starr-jazz @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @mystiquevoid @patientofarkhamasylum @darkxwolfsstuff @starkkat @loserinadress @leovaldez0924 @actualunicornn @froggibus Wally West: @celestialnightwing @clownstheyreeverywhere @currentblasphemy

[exploringwithalexus]

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