Jason used to think self-care was “taking a shower after patrol and maybe eating something that wasn’t cold pizza.” Now he has a whole shelf in the bathroom dedicated to the skincare routine you introduced him to. He grumbles about it, but you catch him using the fancy moisturizer you bought him when he thinks you’re not looking.
He lets you paint his nails black when you’re having a lazy Sunday. At first it was “just this once,” but now he picks the color himself sometimes — usually deep red or dark green to match his Hood aesthetic. He wears them under his gloves on patrol like a secret.
Shopping with you used to be torture for him. Now he actually enjoys it. He’ll let you drag him into stores and try on clothes you pick out, even if he pretends to hate it. The first time he bought a soft oversized sweater because “it smelled like you” when you hugged him in it, you knew he was hooked.
He started using your hair products. His hair is softer now, the white streak less brittle. When you run your fingers through it at night, he melts and pretends he’s not purring.
Jason used to wear the same three hoodies on rotation. Now his closet has actual outfits — nice jeans, button-downs you picked out, even a leather jacket that isn’t battle-worn. He wears them when he takes you on dates and looks ridiculously good doing it.
He lets you give him face masks. The first time you put a bright green one on him, he complained the whole time. Now he asks for the “blue one that smells like berries” when he’s had a rough patrol. He falls asleep with his head in your lap while it dries.
Bath bombs. He discovered them through you and is now lowkey obsessed. He’ll come home after a long night, run the water, and drop one in without saying anything. If you join him, he gets all soft and quiet, just holding you in the warm water.
He buys candles now. Not the cheap ones — the expensive ones that smell like books and rain and the cologne you like. He lights them when you’re over and pretends it’s “for the vibe” when really it’s because he wants the apartment to feel like home for you.
Jason used to cut his own hair with kitchen scissors. Now he lets you trim it in the bathroom, sitting on a stool while you carefully shape the white streak. He watches you in the mirror the whole time with the softest look on his face.
He wears your scrunchies. At first it was just to keep his hair out of his face while cooking. Now he has a drawer full of them in different colors you picked out. He’ll wear one on his wrist like a bracelet when he’s out in civilian clothes.
Self-care nights are sacred now. You introduced him to sheet masks, bath salts, and fluffy socks. He complains the whole time but always participates. The first time he asked for a “spa night” after a bad patrol, you almost cried from how proud you were.
He lets you dress him up for dates. You pick out button-downs and nice jeans and he wears them without argument. He even asks for your opinion now: “Does this look okay? I don’t want to embarrass you.”
Jason used to think cologne was “for rich assholes.” Now he has a signature scent you helped him choose — warm, woody, with a hint of spice. He wears it because he knows you like burying your face in his neck and breathing him in.
He takes baths with you. Not just showers. Full baths with bubbles and candles and him sitting behind you, arms around your waist, chin on your shoulder. He’s quiet during those moments, just holding you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.
On bad mental health days, he lets you pamper him. Face masks, head scratches, you reading to him while he lies with his head in your lap. He used to push you away when he felt like this. Now he leans into it because you make him feel safe enough to be soft.
He buys you matching pajamas. Soft, oversized ones in your favorite color. He pretends it’s “just practical” but the way he smiles when you wear them says otherwise.
Jason started journaling. Not the dramatic kind — just little notes about his day, things that made him happy, things he’s grateful for. Most of the pages end with your name. He keeps it hidden but leaves it open sometimes so you’ll see how much he loves you.
He lets you take care of him. When he comes home hurt, he doesn’t hide it anymore. He lets you patch him up, make him tea, hold him until the nightmares fade. He whispers “thank you” against your skin every time, like he still can’t believe he gets to have this.
The biggest change? He tells you he loves you now. Not just in grand gestures or quiet moments. He says it in the kitchen while you’re cooking, in the shower when you’re washing his hair, in the middle of the night when he thinks you’re asleep. He’s still learning how to be soft, but he’s trying — for you.
a/n: hope this fit the request well.. it was so fun to write omg
tags — 18+ minors dni | f!reader, oral (f!receiving) car sex, pet names (doll & sweetheart), jason calls reader beautiful (1.1k wc)
you and jason were meant to be on your way to dinner. key word: were. instead, jason had you spread for him on the backseat—dress bunched up to your waist and panties clinging to your soaked folds.
“so fuckin’ beautiful,” jason murmurs, snapping the elastic of your panties against your skin.
your body jolts and an involuntary moan slips past your lips. jason chuckles at the sound, tracing the tip of his index finger along the edge of your underwear—the touch so feather-light that it makes your thighs twitch in frustration.
“so impatient,” he tuts tauntingly, leaning down.
“shut up,” you grumble breathlessly, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging.
his tongue flicks out, teasing you through the damp fabric, just the lightest drag of warmth going up from your aching cunt to your already swollen clit, and you jolt, hips bucking up to chase his mouth.
“jay,” your voice breaks into a moan as your head drops back against the car door with a dull thud, legs falling open wider.
he pulls back ever so slightly, pressing the pad of his thumb against the soaked lace, rubbing slow, lazy circles over your clit. you’re desperate for more friction, but he doesn’t give it to you.
your fingers tighten in his hair, exasperation and need coursing through your body as you try to pull him closer. jason chuckles in response, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh.
“i hate you,” you whine, trying to buck your hips up but he slides his hand over your stomach and keeps you pressed against the seat.
“no, you don't, doll,” jason mutters, grinning.
you let out a frustrated huff but it dies in your throat as jason drags his tongue over you, pressing the fabric against your swollen cunt. the desperation and want is almost unbearable and you can’t help the lewd whine that escapes your lips as he continues to toy with you.
his fingers prod against your clothed entrance, taunting you, as his teeth close around the fabric and tug teasingly before letting go.
“jay—please,” you whine, arching your back.
“since you asked so nicely, sweetheart,” he hums, pulling back and blowing cool air against your clit.
he finally hooks a finger into the crotch of your panties, moving them aside, and then his mouth is on you. he drools on your clit, tongue lapping at the swollen nerve and moaning at the taste of you.
you moan his name, trying to clamp your thighs around his head, but his hands hold you open, spreading you wide as he devours you. His tongue, hot and wet, slides through your folds before fucking into you—licking you open and savouring every drop.
as jason fucks you with his tongue, his nose brushes against your clit, and every time you try to roll your hips into his face, he holds you down and just keeps going. you can feel your orgasm approaching fast and just as you're about to reach the precipice, jason pulls back.
“why’d—why’d you stop?” you whimper, feeling your orgasm slip away.
“sorry, doll,” jason smirks, slipping your panties off and shoving them into his pocket. “stupid fabric kept getting in the way.”
you go to mutter a retort when jason presses his teeth to your inner thigh, leaving little bites up and down it before he dove back in, tongue plunged deep inside you. jason groans into your cunt, the vibrations sending shockwaves up your spine as spit and slick drips down to the seat beneath you.
his tongue fucks you slow and deep before dragging up to swirl around your clit. pushing the hood up, his lips closed around that sensitive bundle of nerves, causing your body to jolt in pleasure.
jason drags his tongue down, flattening it before licking a stripe up your folds, lapping every drop of slick before pushing his tongue back inside you and praising the taste. his hands squeeze at your thighs, keeping you spread open for him, his thumbs rubbing slow, soothing circles as his mouth coaxes you closer to your climax.
you keen, legs twitching, and head thrown back in pleasure. a moan catches in your throat as jason pulls your thighs onto his shoulders. your heels dig into his back as the wet, obscene sounds of his mouth on you echo in the car.
jason grinds his hips down into the seat, feeling his cock pulse through his jeans—the ache almost unbearable. He doesn’t stop, he doesn’t care how hard he is, he doesn't even care if he’s leaking through his jeans. the only priority at the forefront of jason’s mind is making you fall apart under his tongue, and all you can do is take it.
“c’mon, sweetheart,” he mumbles against you. “cum for me.”
that, along with one final suck to your clit, has you throwing your head back once more. your thighs trembled, grip tightening in his hair as you reach your orgasm. the intensity had your head spinning and back arching—chasing jason’s mouth as he licks you through it.
“Fuck, jay—” you sob, eyes fluttering shut as your whole body coils tight.
your orgasm is overwhelming, knocking the air from your lungs. You cry out shamelessly, grinding against his mouth. your body shakes, thighs trembling around his head as your hands cant decide whether to pull him closer or shove him away.
“that’s it, doll,” he mutters breathlessly. “give me everything.”
and, fuck, you do. your moans turn into frantic little gasps as jason keeps sucking on your clit like he wants to wring every last drop of pleasure out of you. your clit throbs under his mouth and jason doesn’t stop until you’re a trembling, oversensitive mess.
your chest heaves as you gasp for air, hands weakly tugging at his hair. when jason finally pulls back, his mouth and chin are glistening with your release. jason hums in satisfaction as he wipes his face, chuckling lowly as you swat his shoulder weakly.
“I’ve always preferred dessert before dinner,” jason mutters, eyes locked on you and grinning like the devil himself.
♡. 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐬 : In which, your nerdy boyfriend Jason loves letting you sit on his face.
♡. PinV, Face sitting, m! masturbation
Jason's glasses had slipped down the bridge of his nose, fogged up from the heat building between you two. The living room of your cramped off-campus apartment was a mess of scattered textbooks and half-empty coffee mugs from the study session that had stretched into the late afternoon.
What started as a grind through organic chemistry notes had derailed the second you guys decided to take a break.
Jason's hand brushed yours as he passed you the highlighter, a fleeting touch that sent a spark up your arm. He didn't seem to notice, or if he did, he hid it behind that earnest focus of his.
You watched him for a moment, the way his brow furrowed in concentration, his blonde hair tousled from running his fingers through it too many times. Jason was the quintessential nerd, the guy who'd rather dissect quantum mechanics than hit a party, but there was something magnetic about it to you.
You capped the highlighter and leaned back in your chair, stretching your arms overhead. "I think my brain's officially fried. We've done half the chapter...Can we call it?"
He looked up, blinking as if emerging from a trance. His blue eyes met yours, and there it was again, that quiet spark. "Yeah? You sure? I mean, we could push through the derivations if you want."
You shook your head, smiling. "Nope, reward time! There's that little café around the corner with the killer lattes."
Now, sprawled across the worn leather sofa that creaked under your combined weight, you were both stripped bare, the air thick with the scent of sweat and arousal.
You were a moaning mess under him, your pussy taking his cock so well, clenching around every thrust as he drove in deep. The stretch burned in the best way, his dick thick and insistent, hitting all the good spots.
"Jason," you gasped, nails digging into his shoulders, leaving red trails on his pale skin. He grunted in response, not breaking rhythm, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. The apartment's quiet was shattered by the wet slap of skin on skin, the creak of the sofa protesting under his focused assault.
Suddenly, he pulled out, the drag of his cock leaving you empty and aching. A whine escaped your lips before you could stop it, your body clenching around nothing as you bucked up against the sudden void.
"Jason, fuck—don't stop," you protested, slumping back against the cushions, chest heaving, glaring at him through half-lidded eyes.
He chuckled low, a rare sound from the usually reserved guy, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. His dick stood hard and glistening between you, veins prominent along the shaft, the tip flushed red and leaking pre-cum.
"Patience, love." he said, voice a little breathless but laced with that confidence he'd been building. He shifted on the sofa, laying back against the armrest, his glasses slightly askew when he pulled them off. Motioning with a tilt of his head, he patted his chest. "Straddle me. I want you to ride my face, please."
You blinked, taken aback by the blunt instruction. Jason, the guy who second-guessed every move, just laying there expectant, his eyes a dark blue with want.
Heat flooded your cheeks, but the ache between your legs overrode any hesitation. You swung a leg over him, knees sinking into the sofa on either side of his head, your dripping pussy hovering just above his mouth.
His arms locked around your thighs like vices, pulling you down roughly onto his face. The sudden pressure elicited a sweet squeal from you, your hands flying to the sofa back for balance.
His tongue flicked out immediately, teasing your clit with precise strokes. It was slow, circling the swollen nub before sucking it between his lips, the suction was just incredible.
You leaned back, one hand pressing flat against the firm plane of his stomach, feeling the muscles jump under your palm. Your other hand found your breast, fingers working your nipple, twisting the sensitive nerve through thumb and forefinger until it pebbled hard.
"Fuck," you hissed, the word dragging out as his tongue darted in and out of your folds, lapping at the wetness he'd left behind. The sensation was overwhelming, his mouth hot and insistent, exploring you like he was memorizing every inch.
Emboldened, you reached further down his body, fingers wrapping delicately around his cock. It twitched in your grip, hot and velvet-smooth over the rigid length.
You worked him up and down, slow at first, matching the rhythm of his tongue. Soft groans vibrated from his throat onto your clit, the hum making your hips jerk involuntarily. He was relentless, nose bumping against your mound as he kept going, tongue thrusting inside you with a focus that bordered on obsession.
When you tried to lift up— giving him a breath, or maybe just testing the waters— Jason's hands tightened on your thighs.
"No," he mumbled against you, voice muffled but firm. "Put all your weight on me. I want it."
You doubted for a split second, hovering there, but he didn't wait. With a firm push, he yanked you back down, burying his face in your cunt like it was the sweetest fucking dessert he'd ever tasted.
His nose pressed against your mound again, inhaling deep— Jason, the freakish nerd who got off on the intimacy of it all, on the raw scent and taste of you smothering him.
You started trembling, a mix of pleasure and worry spiking through you— would he even get air like this? Were you squishing him into the sofa? But he took it like a champ, tongue lashing faster, lips sucking hard enough to make obscene slurping sounds echo in the quiet apartment.
Your hand pumped his dick harder now, matching the rhythm of his mouth, but it was getting tough to focus. The coil in your belly wound tighter, thighs clamping around his head as you rode his face in earnest.
"Jason—shit, you're gonna—" He hummed approval, the vibration pushing you closer. No mercy, no pause for breath— he choked a little on your wetness, but it only spurred him on, tongue plunging deeper, nose grinding against your clit as you squirmed.
Your nerdy boyfriend was a freak like that. He loved getting you to sit on his face, feeling you squirm and grind while he buried his nose in you, inhaling like you were his personal addiction.
It was raw, possessive, the way he'd hold you there until you were a shaking mess. You gripped his cock tighter, stroking faster, but he didn't falter— tongue fucking you relentlessly, lips sealed around your folds. Your thighs clamped around his head, the tremor in your legs turning to full-body shudders as the orgasm coiled tight.
Jason sensed it, the way your pussy fluttered against his mouth, and right when you teetered on the brink, he pushed your hips up suddenly, denying you just enough to make you whine.
"Jason— why?" you whimpered, voice breaking, the ache sharpening to a painful edge. He looked up at you from between your legs, lips shiny with you.
"Ask for it," he said, that instructive tone slipping in, dominant as ever. "Tell me you want to cum on my mouth."
You didn't hesitate. "Please, Jason, let me cum on your face. I need it."
A smile tugged at his lips, and then he was crushing his tongue back against you, pulling you down hard.
"That's my girl," he growled, words vibrating into your core. "You're so fucking wet for me, dripping all over my tongue. I love how you taste— when you're close. Ride it out, baby, soak me. I want every drop."
His obscene praises mixed with the loving edge he always had, that nerdy affection shining through even as he ate you like a man possessed. Tongue thrusting deep, then flicking to your clit, nose rubbing circles— it was overwhelming.
You ground down, hand still working his cock in frantic strokes, the dual sensations pushing you over. The orgasm hit like a freight train, your pussy spasming as you came hard. Jason groaned, lapping it up, not stopping until you were limp and gasping.
You collapsed forward, catching your breath with your head against the arm of the couch.
But Jason wasn't done. He flipped you gently onto your back again, his body hovering over yours, cock nudging at your entrance.
"My turn," he murmured, it was gonna be a long afternoon.
/☆ mark grayson x fem!reader, or where he goes down on your for the first time and loves it a little too much. +18
You and Mark have been dating for a little over a month now, he was overly sweet, attentive and caring. Clingy in the best way so you didn't even realize the days he goes M.I.A and doesn't answer your calls.
At first, he was very shy. Stuttering and talking too fast for you. But he takes you to sweet little dates around the park, to the cinema or to study in his house. He started becoming more confident.
The first time you two had sex was almost magical, he took you to a pretty restaurant, walked you around and even offered to take cute pics of your outfit. The he accompanied you to your dorm and you asked him if he wanted to come in. He ended staying the night with all your clothes discarded on the floor and scandalizing your roommate next morning.
Now you and him saw each other more on his house, with one room all to himself so no one bothered you. Except his mum when she brings you a little snack.
You love being wrapped around his strong and big arms, cheeks crushing against his chest while he kisses the top of your head. You draw absent lines in his chest, accidentally lowering your hand a little too much that brushes over his pants. You were a little sleepy, tired of studying and finding comfort in your boyfriend's arms while he scrolls on his phones (once in a while lowering it to your eyes to show you a video he thought you'd like).
You didn't even notice that those touches were making him hard until he moved a little in the bed. One thing about Mark is that he always gets hard so easily, almost embarrassing.
"Aw, honey." You whispered against his chest. "Did I make you hard again accidentally?"
He presses his lips on a thin line.
"Ugh, fuck I'm sorry," he slowly brushes his hair with his free hand. "It wasn't that, I was just thinking something."
You tilt your head against his chest, curious. “Thinking something, huh?”
Mark’s ears are already red, his free hand scratching behind his neck like he’s trying to erase the thought from existence. “Yeah. Like, it’s nothing bad, just…” He bites his lip, gaze darting anywhere but you. “Something I’ve never done before with you.”
That catches your attention. You push yourself up on an elbow, watching him squirm. “You’re being so mysterious,” you tease, dragging a finger lazily across his shirt. “What is it?”
He groans into his hands, muffled and pitiful. “You’re gonna laugh at me.”
“I won’t,” you promise, though you’re already grinning at how dramatic he’s being.
Finally, he peeks out from behind his fingers, wide-eyed, boyish nerves written all over him. “I was just thinking…what if I tried, y’know… going down on you?”
Your brows lift, the blunt honesty catching you off guard. “Oh.”
He rushes to fill the silence, words tumbling out in a panic. “Not like, now-now! Or unless you wanted now, but I mean, I’ve never... like, ever and I don’t wanna be bad at it, but I keep thinking about it, and I wanna make you feel good, but also I don’t wanna mess up, and—”
You reach up and cup his cheek, effectively short-circuiting his ramble. “Mark.”
He freezes, throat bobbing. “…Yeah?”
“You’re cute when you spiral like that.”
He groans again, burying his face against your shoulder this time, voice muffled. “That’s not what I was going for.”
“You don’t have to be nervous,” you murmur, stroking his hair. “You could’ve just asked. I think it’s sweet that you want to.”
Mark peeks up again, sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “So…you wouldn’t, like, think I’m weird?”
“Mark,” you laugh softly, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth, “I think you’re weird no matter what. Also, knowing that you fantasize about eating me out? Dude, that's not weird. It's hot as fuck.”
He groans a little, wrinkling his nose and mouth. "Please, don't ever call me dude again."
You huff a laugh and take his cheeks between your hands, pressing them slightly. "You want to try now?"
He blinks, letting his jaw drop a little. Opens and closes his mouth two times before muttering an answer.
"Uh, I don't know. I mean, sure. Yeah, I really want to."
You grin at how red his ears get, how his throat bobs like he’s about to give a speech instead of dive between your thighs.
“Relax,” you murmur, pushing his messy hair back from his forehead. “It’s me. I promise I’ll tell you if you’re doing something wrong. You just listen to me, yeah?”
Mark nods so fast you think he might give himself whiplash. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. I can listen.” He swallows again, then blurts, “I just really want to be good for you.”
Your chest tightens, he looks so earnest, so desperate for your approval that your nerves melt into warmth. You kiss him once, soft and slow, then guide him down by the shoulders until his face hovers over your stomach.
“You can start here,” you tease, arching a little when he kisses just above your waistband. His lips are tentative at first, nervous, but each press of his mouth grows bolder until he’s nipping gently at your skin.
By the time you shimmy your shorts down, his pupils are blown wide, his breath shaky. He glances up like he’s asking permission, and god, the sight of him... your big, strong boyfriend, blushing and trembling at the thought of tasting you, nearly undoes you.
“Go on,” you whisper, spreading your thighs.
The first lick is shy, almost experimental. He groans instantly, like the taste sparks something in him, and the sound vibrates straight through you. “Holy shit,” he mutters against you, already diving back in, tongue sweeping greedily.
You laugh breathlessly, fingers tangling in his hair. “You like it that much?”
Mark pulls back just long enough to look you in the eye, lips wet, expression dazed. “I— yeah. Fuck. You taste so good. Why didn’t I do this sooner?”
Your laugh cuts into a moan as he goes back at it with renewed eagerness. He’s messy, sloppy even, but he’s so into it that it doesn’t matter. He moans with his tongue inside of you like he’s addicted already.
“Slower,” you guide, tugging gently on his hair when his pace gets erratic. “Focus on my clit, baby.”
He hums an obedient little sound, immediately adjusting, sucking tentatively before flattening his tongue the way you like. He doesn't even use his fingers except for spreading your thighs wider. When your back arches, he makes a muffled, triumphant noise, gripping your thighs tighter.
“Just like that,” you breathe, grinding lightly against his face now. “You’re making me feel so good, Mark.”
His eyes flutter shut at your praise, and he doubles down, desperate to draw more sounds out of you. He keeps glancing up between licks, wide and hopeful, like every moan you give is another piece of validation he craves.
“A-ah, fuck,” you gasp, thighs trembling around his head. “You’re gonna make me cum, honey.”
He groans again, more frantic, tongue pushing deeper as his nose bumps your clit. You’re half laughing, half moaning at how desperate he is.
"Mmh, you're being such a— ngk, good boy f'me," you manage to breath, tugging his hair so he goes deeper in you. He looks at you like he's happy to drown until dead in your cunt.
"Shitshitshit, Mark!" you scream when he curls his tongue inside of you, vibrating with his own moans. "I'm— fuck, I'm cumming!"
You arch your back, riding his face through your orgasm and feeling how Mark drinks every drop.
He doesn’t stop, doesn’t want to stop. He licks you through it, swallowing everything, eyes glassy with awe and need.
"Mark!" you called him, trying to separate his face from your pussy, but of course, he's stronger than you.
"Mmm," he muffles into you, still tasting you relentless. "S'good, baby. You're comfortable, right? I'm staying here for a while."
You don't know if you should laugh or cry, but Mark is definitely not letting you move for some time.
ᘛᰍ𝅄 ׁ 𝓙.𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄 : Early nights in white sheets.
♡. 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐬 : You and Jason have been together for a few months, but he's not very good in bed. He does a lot of research to give you a mind blowing time!
Jason Grace had always been the type to overthink everything, from sword fights to the way he tied his sneakers. It wasn't that he lacked confidence— hell, he'd faced down monsters without flinching— but when it came to you, things got oh! so messy in his head.
You'd been together for months now, a whirlwind of kisses and late-night talks, but sex? That was still new territory. Jason was a virgin before you; his life was packed with quests and duties to explore much else.
And you? You were the one who'd gently pulled him into it, showing him the ropes— or rather, the sheets— on those rare nights when the world let him take a breathe.
It started simple.
The first time, in the dim glow of his cabin, you'd straddled him, guiding his hands to your hips as you sank down onto his cock. Jason's eyes had widened, his breath hitching at the feeling of your pretty cunt clenching.
He was thick— impressively so, the kind of girth that stretched you in ways that made your toes curl— but he didn't know what to do with it !
He laid there, mostly passive, letting you set the pace while he gripped the bedframe like it was his lifeline. You rode him slow, feeling him throb inside you, but it was all instinct for him, no rhythm and definitely no drive.
You'd come, sure, grinding against him until the pressure built and shattered, but Jason? He finished pathetically quick, spilling outside with a groan that sounded half-apologetic. Afterward, he'd hold you close, whispering how amazing you felt, but you could see the frustration in his eyes. He wanted to be better for you.
That became the pattern.
Jason underneath, you on top, controlling the ride. He'd thrust up sometimes, tentative, his hands roaming your breasts or ass, but it was always you leading.
You didn't mind— his eagerness was endearing, and that thick dick of his filled you up just right. He even thrusted up into you with all the enthusiasm of a guy desperate to please from time to time, but it was pretty much always the same: quick, predictable, leaving you satisfied but not exactly screaming. You'd come, no doubt, but he knew it wasn't fireworks for you.
Little did you know, Jason was already plotting his redemption arc !
Starting with asking Leo for a laptop without dying of embarrassment in the attempt... Anyways! Once he got it, he immediately started investigating.
It was as innocent as it could be.
One night, after you'd left his cabin with a kiss, Jason couldn't shake the frustration gnawing at him. He was built like a god— tall, broad-shouldered, with that chiseled jaw and a body honed from years of discipline in the roman legion— but in bed, he felt like a rookie fumbling the ball.
So, alone in the dim glow of his new laptop, he dove in. Porn first, the kind with titles promising "mind-blowing technique" and close-up shots of couples who looked like they were inventing new laws of physics. Then articles, forums, even a dog-eared book on anatomy he'd swiped from a roadside library box because he knew that pornography was not a reliable source for pleasing a woman..
He watched how guys used their mouths, their hands, the way they'd build tension instead of rushing to the end. Jason took notes while his cock hardened because he imagined practicing on you. He wanted to erase that look of polite pleasure from your face and replace it with something raw, something that made you cry of pleasure.
Now, here you were again, grinning as you tugged at the hem of your shirt.
"Missed you," you say, your voice so soft. How could Jason deny you anything?
Jason swallowed. "Mh, yeah? We saw eachother at breakfast."
He adjusted his glasses, but you were already closing the distance, your hand brushing his arm.
"But I can miss my boyfriend," your hands slided under his shirt to feel the hard planes of his abs.
And like that the clothes disappeared after some kisses.
You pushed him down gently, like always, straddling his hips. Jason's cock was already hard, thick and straining against your thigh, a detail he'd always been shy about, never knowing how to wield it beyond the basics.
You guided him inside you, sinking down slowly, and he groaned, hands gripping your waist. It was familiar: you riding him, setting the pace, your pussy clenching around his length as you ground against him. He thrusted up awkwardly at first, overthinking the angle, but the heat built anyway, your moans filling the room.
"Ah.." you breathed, rolling your hips, chasing that edge he could never quite push you over.
Yet tonight, something shifted. As you leaned forward, breasts brushing his chest, Jason's hands tightened—not in surrender, but in resolve.
He'd watched those videos, read the guides: how to make it about her pleasure first! His mind usually raced with the pressure to perform, but this time, it fueled him.
With a sudden surge, he flipped you both, his weight pinning you to the mattress. You gasped, surprised, your legs parting instinctively as he settled between them.
"Jason? What—"
He didn't answer right away, his face flushed, those blue eyes dark with determination. Instead, he kissed down your neck, nipping at your collarbone, then lower, tracing the curve of your breast with his tongue.
You arched, expecting him to slide back inside, but he kept going, lips trailing over your stomach, hands spreading your thighs wide.
His breath ghosted over your pussy, already slick from riding him, and your breath hitched. He'd never done this—never even hinted at it. Oral? That was unknown territory for him, something he'd jerked off to in secret, imagining your taste but too embarrassed to ask.
"Jason, you don't have to—" But his mouth was there before you could finish, tongue flicking tentatively against your clit.
It was clumsy at first, a hesitant lap, but then he remembered the videos: circles, pressure, the flat of the tongue. He pressed in, licking a broad stripe up your folds, tasting you fully for the first time. You moaned, loud and unrestrained, your fingers threading into his blond hair.
Because, holy shit, he had never done this before. Not once in all your relationship had he gone down on you; it was always hands or his cock, quick and to the point. But now? He was doing it, actually eating you out, his inexperience showing in the way he paused to adjust, but God, it felt good.
He grew bolder, sucking your clit between his lips, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet room. One hand braced on your thigh, the other slid up, two fingers teasing your entrance before pushing inside and curl them, seeking that spot he'd read about, the one that made women squirm.
You bucked against his face, the dual sensation— his tongue swirling, fingers pumping— sending sparks up your spine.
"Fuck, Jason," you talked between moans, your voice breaking. "Where did you learn this?"
It was messy— his chin glistened with your arousal, his breaths coming in hot puffs against your inner thigh and his cheeks red.
"I- I read about it. Online. In those... you know." He looked up at you, vulnerable but earnest, fingers still buried deep, stroking slowly. "Am I doing it right? Does it feel good?"
You could barely form words, pleasure coiling tight in your core. Instead of answering, you grabbed the back of his head, guiding him back down firmly.
"Keep going. Don't stop." Your voice was a command wrapped in a plea, and he obeyed, diving in with renewed focus.
His tongue worked faster now, alternating flicks and sucks, while his fingers thrusted deeper, hitting that ridge inside you with each curl. The pressure was building, relentless, with your hips grinding against his mouth as he devoured you.
You'd always taken the lead before, riding him to your satisfaction, but this— him taking care of you, learning on the fly— was intoxicating. His thick fingers stretched you sososoo damn right, slick with your arousal, and when he added a third, scissoring gently, you cried out, the fullness pushing you closer.
It built so fast, that orgasm, hotter and more intense than anything Jason had given you before. Your body tensed, toes curling into the sheets, and you shattered, whimpering his name as waves of pleasure crashed over you.
Your pussy clenched around his fingers, pulsing, and he didn't let up, licking you through it until you were shaking, oversensitive and boneless.
When he finally lifted his head, lips swollen and shiny, he looked triumphant. "Was that okay?"
You pulled him up, kissing him deeply, tasting yourself on his lips.
"More than okay. That was fucking incredible."
Your hand wrapped around his cock, still rock-hard and throbbing, the thick length pulsing in your grip. Precum beaded at the tip, and you stroked slowly, intending to reward him— climb on top again and let him feel you milk him dry. But Jason shook his head, a small smile breaking through his flush.
"Not this time." He caught your wrist, gently but firm, and pushed you back down, his body covering yours once more.
You laughed, breathless, as he positioned himself. "Bossy now?"
He didn't respond with words, just nudged the flushed, angry tip of his cock against your entrance, still sensitive from your climax.
He'd never known how to use his size before— thrusting too shallow or erratic, leaving you wanting. But right now, guided by all that secret studying, he pushed in slow and deep, inch by thick inch, filling you completely.
You moaned, legs wrapping around his waist, the stretch delicious after his fingers.
He started moving, hips rolling with purpose, not the hesitant pumps from your other encounters. Each thrust kissed your cervix with that swollen tip, a deep, insistent pressure.
"God, you're so tight," he muttered, voice rough, with his forehead pressed to yours. He adjusted his angle, pulling back almost out before slamming in, the head of his dick dragging right over your g-spot.
You gasped, nails digging into his back, the spot-on hit sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. He'd read about it, watched the diagrams— how to angle for the maximum pleasure— and fuck, it worked. Every stroke targeted it, building that pressure again, faster than before.
Jason's rhythm steadied, his weight pinning you a bit as his hands braced on either side of your head. Sweat slicked his skin, his glasses fogging slightly as he fucked into you, harder now, the bed creaking under the force.
Your pussy gripped him like a vice, wet and hot, and he groaned, burying his face in your neck. "Feels so good— you feel so good."
He was still overthinking a little—you could see it in the way his brows furrowed—but it only made him more attentive, hips snapping with precision, chasing your reactions.
When you clenched around him, he hit that spot again, relentless, the thick base of his cock grinding against your clit with each hilt-deep thrust. You were lost in it, your body arching to meet him, the coil tightening impossibly fast.
"Jason— right there, don't stop."
He didn't, couldn't, pounding into you with a focus that bordered on fierce, his cock stretching and filling every inch. The room filled with the slap of skin and your shared breaths ragged.
He reached down, thumb finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles like he'd practiced in his mind from those videos. It was too much—the deep kisses to your cervix, the G-spot hammering, the added friction—and you shattered, your orgasm crashing in waves, pussy spasming around his thick length.
He followed seconds later, thrusting deep one last time, tip pressed flush against your depths as he came. Hot spurts filled you, a creamy rush that leaked out around him.
That was also new; the coming inside thing, but you were so fucke out and happy you didn't even care.
Jason collapsed half on you, both of you slick and spent, his cock twitching inside as the aftershocks rippled through.
For a moment, you just lay there, catching your breath, his head on your chest. Then he lifted up, pushing his glasses back into place with a sheepish grin.
"I... I wanted to get it right this time."
"You did more than right. That was heaven." You traced a finger along his jaw, smiling.
No more frustration or overthinking shadows. Jason Grace, the guy who'd never touched a girl before you, had leveled up. And damn if it didn't make you crave the next sex session already.
But as you drifted, sated and warm, Jason murmured against your skin, "Think I need more practice?"
You smirked, nipping his ear. "Only if you're volunteering." He laughed, the sound light, and for the first time, he didn't doubt the answer.
jason todd is wary of his size, especially during sex.
he knew that he needed to be taking proper precautions first, making you squirm under his teasing and eating you out until your legs shook.
foreplay is a must for a man of his size and luckily jason enjoys the hell out of it. he moans and groans while he works you open for him. after all, he knows how his voice affects you. watching as your face scrunched up as soon as he pulls the first orgasm out of you, all before he even gets to fuck you.
you tug at his waistband when he stands and then he’s pulling his pants down to expose his thick length, pre beading at his flush pink tip. when he drives his hips into yours, so deliciously sensual as he moves, something finally shifts behind his perfect heterochromic eyes. they’re evaluating as you tilt your head back further into the pillow while he buries himself to the hilt and pauses. a worried look on his face until he met yours. the heightened version of the expression you had on earlier.
he wasn’t prepared for how much more he’d love how you fit together until he saw it ruin you. how his size flustered you.
as you take a shaky breath to adjust even after taking him many times before this, he stares in awe. you swear he gets even harder and it just makes him feel bigger.
with effort, he groans out, “you okay baby?”
you nod and let out a slow exhale, “yes, fuck— you can move.”
he searches your eyes before leaning down further to press his lips to yours and resume his movements. swallowing down the moan that gets past you and adding a symphony of his own. moaning out his name after he pulls out just to drive back home and his head finds its way to the crook of your neck. he takes calculated bites that bordered just enough away from leaving a mark and making you writhe.
the feeling builds like fire in a dense forest, engulfing all in its path and overwhelming you all at once. you don’t even recognize when your hand has come up cover your face. biting at the flesh and your eyes rolling back. though jason takes your hand from your face wordlessly, just continuing his relentless movements. he slides them down your torso and past your breasts. he stops your hand by your stomach, bringing it a little lower as he thrusts again.
“fit around me so perfectly, fuck—” losing his train of thought as your other hand drags down his back, leaving red lines in its wake.
it takes you a moment to understand what he was doing when he eyes the bulge poking at your stomach. it wasn’t until he circled his hips and pressed his hand down harder on yours like he was trying to feel for it through your fingers. you sigh as he holds it there, eyes fluttering from the delicious stretch he created. the drag of his thick veins rubbing against your tender walls, it was glorious.
“you feel me baby?” his voice shaky and ghosting over your quivering lips. punctuating his words with another push to watch your lips part in bliss and mimics you with another groan. “that’s all yours. i’m all yours.”
you could feel every devastating thrust and every small whimper that slips his tongue and blessed your ears. another slow, deep roll of his hips has you gasping and squeezing your eyes shut. your hand slips from where he held it and he follows it again, grasping it tight by the side of your head. letting you squeeze and dig your nails into his big palms.
your voice catching in your throat, you gasp his name breathlessly, “d—don’t stop.”
jason laughs softly, bringing his other hand up to cradle your head and kiss your cheek. “you’re doing so good for me ma. you gonna let me in a little deeper hmm?”
you nod vigorously, wanting nothing more than him. jason carcasses you from the inside, kissing your cervix. your mind a blank slate of nothing but his words and your bodies dancing. then his hand drops to gently shove one of your legs back further into your chest. he watches as your face twists pleasure and a broken moan fills the air before squeezing the plush flesh.
you’ll never truly get used to jason’s size, but he’ll make sure that you enjoy every second of it.
a/n: someone asked for “jason todd + a size kink” but im fried and i lost the request. at least i wrote it in my notes 🫡
idk if my asks are getting eaten so sorry if you’ve already gotten this!!
roommate!nat who’s a huge perv and tries to get away with masturbating in the same room as reader while they’re there.. does not care if she gets caught infact it just turns her on more😬😬
roommate!nat rubbing her clit while she's next to you on the couch. with a blanket on, she'll shimmy out of her shorts and underwear, yanking them down to her mid-thighs, and then she'll slouch against the arm of the couch to get a good view of you before she lazily rubs herself. without a blanket on, she'll just have a hand strategically placed between her thighs, hand occasionally pressing into her cunt while she stares at you.
or, roommate!nat, who does all this fully naked, without a care in the world. she'll get undressed while you two are just chilling on the couch and start fingering herself in front of you. she doesn't care.
roommate!nat, who leaves her door open when she jerks off because she thinks it's hot if you can hear her. even just the thought of you hearing the sound of her vibrator makes her clit throb. thinking about her moaning out your name one time and cumming instantly when you rush to her room because you thought she was hurt or something @__@ the moment she locked eyes with you, she was cumming around her dildo. she also had your shirt in her hand, the one you just threw into the laundry after taking a shower.
roommate!nat, who steals your dirty clothes. or any clothes, tbh. she'll swipe something from your dresser and use it for perverted reasons <3 humping it, sniffing it, using it to muffle her moans, using it to clean off her cum...
roommate!nat, who uses your toys. when you're out of the house, she'll sneak into your room and grab one of your toys, uses it on your bed.
roommate!nat, who humps your stuffed animals <3
roommate!nat, fingering herself under the dinner table while you two eat together. she's having a normal and innocent conversation with you while her fingers are knuckle deep inside of her pussy. she lovesss trying to keep quiet, trying to act like she's not masturbating right in front of you. but that deep red blush on her cheeks kind of gives her away. it just turns her on even more when you start to catch on.
Summary: Ben has always been rough around the edges, but he always softens out for his sweet girl
Warnings: No use of y/n. Female reader. reader is not specified in height/size, but is smaller than Ben. Don't worry, I didn't make you have a 2'3" frame, 6 pounds, messy bun, petite reader lmao. SMUT. p in v sex. Ben eats you out. Ben is sickly sweet to you in this soz to the rough freaks. might actually be so sweet he's ooc...
Word Count: 3,739
Some days it felt like being stuck in that Commie fridge was better than dealing with these incompetent ass wipes. Today was one of those days for Soldier Boy. You could tell in the way his eyebrow crease deepened that he was only seconds away from blowing his top and killing Butcher and Hughie just to make their grating argument stop. His shoulders were tight and he heaved a sigh.
You slide up next to him, gently leaning against his sturdy frame. You can see some of the tension leave his body when he sees that it's you saddled up to his side.
"You wanna get out of here?" You ask low enough for only the two of you to hear. You can see him instantly perk up, he nods only once and he walks with you to collect your purse from the beer-stained table to make your hopefully swift and unnoticed exit.
"Heading out so soon? Feels like you just got here." A gruff, boisterous voice calls from behind you.
Butcher.
Your alliance with the Brit was already rocky, and it takes everything in Soldier Boy not to whip out his Colt 1911 and blow whatever brains the poor bastard has out the back of his skull.
"Just keep grabbing your things, baby, I'll be with you in a second." Soldier Boy whispers. The strong hand on your shoulder gives it a quick squeeze before he turns to face Butcher.
Today was just not his day.
"Listen, cocksucker." You try to to hide the worry that starts to grow on your face as Soldier Boy glares at the steely-eyed brit, "You're just arguing amongst yourselves. This 'sunshine and lollipops' meeting has jack shit to do with me." He jabs a finger at himself while his other hand finds the small of your back, guiding you towards the exit. Your eyes find his face and he flashes you a quick wink.
"Well, you're a useless cunt, aren't ya?" You can practically hear Soldier Boy's jaw tick as he freezes. He crosses the room to Butcher in only a couple strides. Grabbing Butcher by the collar, he growls low.
"I'm taking me and my girl home. You got a fuckin' problem with that, jackass?" You stand wide eyed at the door. Butcher only glares back into Soldier Boy's eyes.
"Ben…" You call out warily, breaking the silence. You want to both get out of here and spare Butcher from Soldier Boy's tired wrath. You have no interest in watching the fight between the two men, and it seems that Soldier Boy agrees with you as he releases his iron-clad grip and returns to your side in a matter of seconds. Opening the door for you to step through, Soldier Boy calls out behind him.
"If either of you pathetic fuckers need me, no you don't." He slams the door shut so hard it rattles some of the cheap picture frames on the walls.
The only sound in the hallway is Soldier Boy's jagged breathing as he tries to collect himself. He takes a step toward you, placing a rough hand on the back of your head and pulls you in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead before whispering into your hair.
"Fuckin' useless assholes. Fuckin' useless, useless, useless." His hands are at your sides, squeezing gently into the plush of your flesh. He's hissing mainly to himself, but you know better than to interrupt him when he's this upset, "You'd think in the 40 fuckin' years I spent on ice, even the common man would be a killing machine, but they're all just bigger pussies than before." He heaves the largest sigh of the night, finishing his mini-rant with another kiss to your forehead and lifts your chin up to look at him.
"Let's get out of here, yeah?" Before you can answer, he's already found the small of your back and your feet move in tandem with his.
The drive home is comfortably silent. His large hand has settled onto the meat of your thigh, thumb rubbing mindless circles, giving it an occasional squeeze or two. Your elbow rests on the center console while you trace shapes into his broad shoulder. You can see the tension seeping slowly out of him as you get closer to home. Buildings fly past as he breaks a couple traffic laws just to get back faster.
In what feels like record time, Soldier Boy is pulling into the driveway. Without saying a word, he exits the driver's side and makes his way over to your door before opening it and holding a hand out for you. You take his hand and he brings it to his lips, butterflying kisses along your knuckles.
Even when you cross the threshold of your home, you're both still silent. He's already closed and locked the front door by the time you turn to face him. For the first time today, Soldier Boy gets to put down his mask. Set the mantle of America's savior to the side for just a moment. For the first time today, Soldier Boy doesn't have to be Soldier Boy. He gets to be Ben. Just Ben. Just Ben with you. Just. You.
He's on you before you realize it. Strong hands slip under the soft cotton of your top, finding the silk of your skin just above the waistband of your jeans. He grabs you, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to draw a gasp from your lips.
Ben crashes his lips onto yours and uses the opportunity of your open mouth to slip his tongue into it. The hands on your waist pull you flush to his body and you can feel him already rock solid through his sweats. You hum and turn your head to deepen the kiss. His tongue laps at yours as he's walking you back, trapping you between the wall and his toned chest.
He smiles into the kiss and grabs the hem of your top. Instinctively, you lift your arms, his lips leave yours just long enough to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it to the side. His tongue slips past your lips again as his calloused hands slide to your back, finding the clasp of your bra before expertly unhooking it, tossing it somewhere behind him. He pulls away from you to admire your now bare chest. His large hands are contrastingly, almost scorching hot compared to the cold air of your home.
Ben rolls your pebbled nipples between his fingers and you instinctively arch your body into his front. You trail your hands down his stomach, but before you can palm him through his sweatpants, he grabs your wrists.
"Not yet, baby," He says against your lips.
"Ben." You whine at his rejection, which makes him chuckle.
"I know, I know. I'm a monster for not letting you touch me, but be patient for me."
In one swift motion, he hooks his hands under the meat of your ass, lifting you up. He carries you to your bedroom, all the while his mouth leaving kisses and nips in the crook of your neck.
Ben lays you gently onto the sea of plush pillows and blankets of your shared bed. You reach for the waistband of his pants and, again, he stops you just short of your goal.
"What did I just say about patience?" His words are threatening, but his tone is gentle. It's a soft warning. You know you can push, just a bit.
"But I wanna touch you—"
"And you will, baby, I promise," Ben is trailing kisses down your body, "But right now, daddy needs his princess on his tongue."
Your mouth snaps shut, any remaining protests dying in your throat.
Ben unbuttons your jeans and peels them off your legs. You were left in your underwear. A lacy little number with a pretty pink bow in the middle that Ben bought you. The sight of you makes him groan and he thinks he's going to finish in his pants right there and then like some fucking teenager.
Everything about this got him impossibly harder. Here he was, in a big house with a wrap-around porch and white picket fence, with his precious girl splayed before him clad only in some lacy little panties. From the mortgage to the cloth covering your cunt, he paid for all of it. This was the American dream.
"Fuck, baby," He breathes out, lowering his body until it meets the mattress and throws your legs over his shoulders, "You look like a fuckin' angel."
Ben peppers kisses along your inner thighs, occasionally sucking a blooming purple mark into the supple skin as he draws his wandering mouth closer to your lace-covered cunt.
"You have no idea how bad daddy needed to stuff his face in this pussy, baby." His muttered confession draws a satisfied whine from your lips, beard tickling your thighs as he continues the his attack of kisses on all the skin he can reach. His mouth finally does make it to your core and he presses his face into you, breathing you in deep, like the smell of you was the only thing keeping him alive.
He lets out a throaty groan, you can feel his lips move against you as his nails hands dig crescents into your hips.
"You smell so fuckin' good." He plants a kiss on your covered-cunt before grabbing your panties between his teeth and pulls them to the side.
"Christ on a cross, angel," Another groan is ripped from his throat before he continues, "Just look at that pretty little pussy." He presses his face into your now bare cunt and breathes in again.
He places a slow, soft kiss to your exposed core.
"You're already soaking, sweet girl." Pride fills his chest as he licks a slow stripe up from your entrance, wrapping his lips around your clit and gives it a small suck. Finally getting the taste of you on his tongue draws a gravely moan from his throat. The vibrations sending little tickles of pleasure up your spine.
"Mmn—Ben!" You gasp, and he pulls away from you.
"Nuh uh, princess, not Ben. You know better." His voice is chiding and filled with adoration.
"Daddy." Your mewl earns you a pat to your hip.
"That's my girl." He bows his head back to your aching pussy and gives you a particularly harsh suck to your clit that has you back arching off the mattress. You hands fly to his scalp, fingers threading through it as he chuckles to himself, returning to his gentler suckling on your sensitive nub.
You pant, thighs squeezing around his head as he continues to lap at your weeping cunt. His tongue circles your clit once, twice, then dips into your entrance. The wet muscle exploring as much of your insides as he can physically reach.
You try to lift your hips to grind onto his face, but he keeps you firmly in place. Ben isn't that cruel and can feel you fighting against his grasp, so he splays his tongue flat and, using the grip he has on your hips, grinds your cunt onto his mouth.
The movement and sudden, harsh pressure pulls a wanton moan from your throat. The hands in his hair tighten. Your heels try to dig into his shoulder blades for some kind of stability, but Ben sliding you back and forth on his tongue makes that impossible.
"Feels good—Mn—so good." Your whine only makes him grind you harder onto his tongue. Pressure starts to build deep in your stomach.
Ben places your lower half back onto the mattress and unhooks one of his arms from your hips. His lips return to wrap around your clit while his now free hand slide two fingers into your dripping core.
Ben's fingers are thick and long. They reach deeper and stretch your gummy walls than you ever could on your own. The fullness makes you whimper. He hums, tongue running tight, quick circles around your bud. The coil in your tummy tightens and you whine for him again.
"Daddy." You tug gently at his brown locks and he pulls off you with a pop, the fingers pumping into your cunt never stopping. You can feel the adoration in his emerald green eyes.
"What do you need, baby?" He rests his cheek against your thigh, soft smile pulling at the corners of his lips at your desperate expression.
"Wanna cum."
"Yeah? You wanna cum?"
"Mhm."
"Then cum, sweet girl, cum for daddy." His lips return to your clit, fingers scissoring your velvet walls.
At his command, you unravel, clenching around the two fingers in your cunt. Your hands pull at his hair, causing him to groan into your spasming pussy. You cry out, grinding yourself into him, letting his mouth and fingers ride out your orgasm.
Eventually, Ben stills, allowing you to come down from your high. You pant, trying to catch your breath as he places a wet kiss against your sensitive, dripping core. He pulls his fingers from your and puts them in his mouth, sucking your juices off of them.
Crawling up your body, you can see the lower half of his face is glistening in your slick. You place a hand on his cheek and guide him in for a kiss. It's slow. Gentle. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you hum into his mouth. He pulls away to pepper more kisses across your jaw, following your cheek bones up to your temple and along your forehead until your entire face has been covered in his kisses.
Both of his hands cup your face and he places one final, deep kiss on your lips. You've never felt more loved.
"You did such a good job for me." His thumbs are stroking the sides of your sweaty face.
"Thank you." You smile up at him, which he returns with a soft grin of his own.
"You think you're ready for me now?" He asks, already knowing the answer as you nod your head. He hooks his thumbs on your ruined lace, pulling your panties off your jelly-like legs.
Ben grabs the hem of his tee and in one fluid motion, yanks it off and throws it somewhere across the room. Then, using only his thumbs on the elastic of his sweatpants and boxers, he slides them off and throws them in the same general direction as his shirt. Both of you finally fully bare.
His tip is flushed and already leaking. He reaches a hand down to give himself a couple pumps.
Ben sits, settling between your sticky thighs and reaches for your spent body. He pulls you onto his lap, gently, like you were made of glass. Your chest meets his solid one and he kisses your collar bone.
"You're so perfect," He whispers against the slick of your skin, "Like a doll I can pose and use how I want."
He hovers your hips over the blunt head of his cock with one hand, the other fist his base. Your hands find their anchors on his broad shoulders and you feel your entrance make contact with his blunt head. He rubs his length along your sore folds, mixing your slick with his precum. The friction draws a low moan from you both.
His breath hitches when his tip catches on your entrance. He guides himself back to your dripping hole and sinks you down slow but stops when your greedy insides only swallow past the head of his cock. It takes everything in him not to sink you down fully onto him. Both his hands return to your hips. He lifts you up, enough to pull his tip from you, just to sink you back down.
"Want more." Your breathy whine catches his attention.
"How much more, pretty thing?" He continues fucking just his tip into you.
"All of you. Need it all."
"You've been so good, I think you deserve it." He pulls you off of him completely, and you're about to complain again, until he sinks you down onto him and continues inching deeper into you. The slide is slow, and when you finally reach his base, you both release the breaths you didn't know you were holding.
It's no secret that Ben is big, and even after preparing you with his mouth and fingers, taking him fully was always a challenge, so he gives you a moment to adjust to his size. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes.
"Shh, I know it hurts, baby, let daddy take care of you." His thumb swipes at the tears threatening to spill from your eyes and you lean into his touch. His mouth finds your nipple again, and you're threading your fingers through his hair once again. His eyes close in turn and he sucks harder, pulling more of you into his mouth.
Pretty quickly, the burn of the stretch morphs into pleasure, and you rock your hips into his. His green eyes flutter open and lock with yours. He pulls you up slow and sinks you back down slower. This pace allows you to feel every drag of the thick veins lining the length of his member. You clench around him and he groans around your breast. Grazing his teeth along your nipple, he pushes his face into your chest, the hair on his beard earning a breathy giggle from you.
"Faster, daddy." You mewl, already trying to squirm a faster pace despite being shown time and time again that struggling got you nowhere.
"So impatient. Do I need to teach you manners again, sweetheart?" He murmurs into your skin.
"No." Is all you manage to say, but you do stop your fight against his hold.
"Then take what I give you and be grateful." He says, punctuating his sentence by spearing you hard onto him.
"Ah—Again, please."
"Please, what?"
"Please, daddy."
"Atta girl," He pulls your hips up and slams you back down again and again. The pace is grueling and you can feel him battering your insides, "Now say 'Thank you'."
"Mnn—Thank you, daddy."
"Good girl," He hisses, "Good fucking girl."
You see something glitter behind those emerald eyes as a hand slides up your back and wraps itself in your hair, yanking you away from his front. You moan in surprise before Ben speaks, his words are steady and controlled, in contrast to the bruising pace of his hips bucking up to meet yours.
"I feel greedy getting this view all to myself," You tilt your head in confusion, before you can ask what he means, Ben pulls out of you completely. He flips you around and slams you back down onto his cock before you can whine about feeling empty, your back now against his chest, "Figured you should see it, too."
Again, you're about to ask about it, but when you look up, you lock eyes with yourself. Your vanity was directly across from where you both were on the bed. You can see your flushed cheeks and mused hair. Subconsciously, you tighten around Ben, and he hums into your shoulder blades.
"Knew you'd like watching yourself being fucked." His hands find the plush of your hips again. His pace is slow again, but it lets you focus on where you two connect, "Look at how pretty you are taking my cock, sweet girl." Somehow, watching yourself amplifies the drag of his heavy cock in your gummy walls and you clench around him further.
He hisses out a swear and picks up the pace. The grip on your hips bounce you deliciously on his dick.
"You see that, baby?" One of his hands snakes around your front and rests on the bulge of your lower belly. Your eyes following where his hand splayed.
"That's where I am," To prove his point, he pushes down on the protrusion of your tummy and a moan is ripped from your throat, "See how deep daddy is in your pretty little pussy, princess?" You want to give your full, undivided attention to the mirror, but the pistoning of his hips up into yours and pressure of his hand onto his tip through the walls of your tummy made it almost impossible to focus. Stars start to speckle the corners of your vision and a familiar pressure building in your tummy again.
"Fuck—Daddy, gonna cum again."
"Already, baby? I'm close too," He pants out, "You gonna let daddy fill you, huh? Let him fuck his load deep into you?"
"Mhm." The coil inside you was on the verge of snapping, you were on the edge of another orgasm. All you needed was a little push.
"Cum for me, baby, cum all over my fucking cock." He presses on the bulge of his tip through your stomach and that's all it takes to send you fully over the edge. You thrash against his hold, moaning wildly as you grind your hips into his, riding your orgasm out on his dick.
"Daddy's gonna fill this pussy, princess," Ben's voice is desperate as his hips snap up to meet yours, both hands gripping your hips to help slam you back down onto him, "Fuck—Gonna fill you up, baby, fill this pussy with my cum fuck—Fuck."
Ben chokes out a groan as he stutters his hips into yours. You can feel his cock twitch inside you as he paints your velvety walls white. He grinds into your ass as he rides out the high of his own orgasm and you can feel his load spilling out from around him. He stills inside you and pulls you flush against his chest. Your pants the only sounds filling the room. With his arms locked around your waist, he falls back, dragging you down with him as you both flop onto the mattress.
Your head falls over his shoulder and you press your sweaty face into his. He turns slightly, enough to place a chaste kiss to your cheek and slick the hair stuck to your forehead out of your face.
"You did such a good job, princess, always so perfect for me." It's here, laying sweaty and spent with Ben, where you feel the most loved. You turn your head to catch his lips with yours, "Love ya, doll."
HELLO MY DARLING BIG DAWGS, Catz is back again to feed you (so soon, I know). Did I spend the entire day in bed writing this? Yes. Is my neck incredibly sore? Also yes. Do I regret it? only slightly, but we ball on.
I KNOW he's not in character for this one, but when a darling dawg asks me for a sweet, daddy Ben, who am I to deny them?
I absolutely LOVE when you guys send in asks, so feel free to keep 'em comin.
JASON TODD WHO WHIMPERS AND MAKES A HELL LOT OF NOISE LIKE A TOTAL SLUT!! and he doesn't even gaf because he knows it turns reader on!!
okay but listen!!!!! he doesn't at first!!
the first month or so after you two start having sex he's not very vocal. he'll grunt and groan, a little dirty talk, but nothing crazy. nothing outside of the "norm", you know what i mean? he doesn't want to freak you out. he's still surprised you haven't run after finding out about red hood, he's not going to ruin this
but one night he's super vulnerable. he's come home from a patrol that completely kicked his ass, wiped him out, and all he needs right now is you
you'd think he'd be rough about it, letting his frustrations of a bust gone south out on you, but he doesn't. instead, tonight he's reminded of how easily he would be taken out on one of his patrols. how a punch too hard to the head, or a stab wound too deep, would keep him from coming home to you
so this time he's emotional. he's pouring his entire soul into each deep thrust. every single languid drag of his cock through you is laced with devotion. you can feel it in the way he noses your temple, the sweat beading down his jaw, the watery tears that fall against your hairline that he'll later deny
and you definitely hear it in the way he whimpers for you. it's quiet at first. so quiet that you almost don't hear it in the quiet of the room, barely audible over the sound of your own breathy moans and pitched mewls. but then it happens again. and again. and again
and then each snap of his hips is accompanied by a whimper. in the moment there's no way jason can control himself enough to keep his mouth shut like he normally does
then comes the babbling. the soft "you're perfect" which sounds so achingly worshipful as the familiar praise falls from his lips that it sounds brand new to you. "god, you're perfect, perfect, perfect" a sniffle. and then "i love you so fucking much"
and after that jason doesn't hold back anymore. not when he's stripped himself bare. torn down the walls of anger and betrayal and desperation that run deep through his very being, full of thorns and acid and barbs. not when he's laid his emotions and soul bare for you, the same way he does his body. and especially not when you've gently taken that fragile, shattered core of his, still tender and wounded, and craddled it with a kiss to his jaw and a "i love you too, jay"
that's when jason stops holding back. that's when he lets his whimpers tangle with your own, the way your limbs tangle together in the sheets
italian-american ! jason as your boyfie. pairing ! jason todd x fem!reader wc ! 1.2k warnings ! fluff to smut. nasty cunnilingus, reader!orgasm, shitty italian. 🗒️ me and my thing about italian american men in media, pls restrain me also if any native italian speaker comes across this i am sorry i only know my catholic hymns in italian 😬
art creds : @/stefphe
now playing ! teach me tiger — april stevens 🎧
italian-american! bf jason whose mom was sicilian. he grew up watching her straighten her hair dead and bleach it blonde, all the while she would scold him with a ma che fai or a non dire cavolate whenever he was acting out with the other punks in their neighborhood.
italian-american! bf jason who still utters little sicilian words and phrases every now and then, barely noticing when he stubs his toe and lets out a madonna that sounds like marone, and carries over this habit to the way he pronounces certain words — coffee starts to sound like caw-fee when he’s tired, mozzarella is mootz-a-rell when he’s hovering behind you in the kitchen and dictating the steps to his favorite recipes.
italian-american! bf jason who you never get tired of hearing speak. the way he talks is so old world, something completely new but a perfect amalgamation of the lilted ease that is so upper east side — park row by way of little italy type diction and that cool, ever-charming cadence of bristol county, which makes him sound like a mediterranean bruce wayne half the time.
italian-american! bf jason who calls you amore, ragazza cara, bambolina, and most times bambina, other times only bambi. nothing truly makes him relax more than when he comes home to you, shoulders heavy and tense from a world of noise and violence where he can wrap his arms around your middle and burrow his nose into the crook of your neck with a soft grumble of, “missed you, bambina.”
italian-american! bf jason who tans so easily. nothing is more attractive than watching him run around outside in the summer with the kids who live on your block. he plays soccer — or maybe bocce — on hot asphalt streets flooded from water hydrants while tiny fists cheer him on and he laughs carelessly, the sun kissing the chub of his cheeks and his thick biceps. he comes home to you later, his skin warm all over and browned like a million kisses.
italian-american! bf jason who is a community man above all else. people adore him, he keeps it tight knit. watching him go from little italy to crime alley to the bowery is like watching the city’s prince go on tour. the deli a whole train ride over knows his and yours regular order. he hosts a bi-weekly book club over at the community center near leslie’s clinic. he drops by every now and then by the church his mom used to take him to for mass.
italian-american! bf jason who makes your jaw drop when you see him for the first time in a ribbed white tank with a gold cross necklace nestled at the uppermost curve of his autopsy scar, his hair wet and nearly slicked back with that gel he uses that you like so much, and his eyes all hung low and hungry.
“you look like a greaser,” you say to him. he only grins and pulls you in by the loop of your jeans with a hushed, “c’mere, you.”
italian-american! bf jason who thought the way you stared at him all starry-eyed when he spoke just meant that you were hungry to add a new languge under your belt.
italian-american! bf jason who only now realizes just how much you like it when he speaks italian while his head is buried between your thighs.
he leaned over you, bracing himself on his his forearms planted on either side of your body. “so pretty...” he kissed your cheek, then your hairline, the line of your jaw. “say it to me, and i’ll do it for you, whatever you want.”
you trembled, arms snaking around the bulk of him, your nails scraping down his back as you pulled him down further. “kiss me,” you whispered. his bare cock twitched against your thigh and his lips grazed the corner of your mouth.
“where?”
“everywhere,” you answered.
his hands teased up your sides. “say it to me properly,” a peck to your cheek again. “baciami,” a tickle of warm breath against your collarbone. “da—” a vulgar lap of his tongue behind your ear. “—pertutto.”
“ba—” you gasped, the warmth of the tip of his tongue grazing your folds with a kitten lick had you shivering.
“keep going, doll.” he cooed. “doin’ so good.”
with a shaky breath you soldiered on. “baci—ami... hah—” you squirmed, or tried to but his palms met the back of your thighs, spreading you open and still for him. “dappertu— fuck, fuck, oh my god, jason!”
“uh huh, it’s okay... just make a fuckin’ mess for me, doll.” your thighs shook and moved to squeeze shut but a light slap from him to your searing flesh had you squealing in time with each swirl of his tongue over your pulsing clit. “show me how you look when you want it that bad... yeah, cosí?”
“c-can’t— fuck,” you cried. “wanna cum so bad, jay...”
“aspetta,” he shook his head, dissatisfied. he ground the heel of his palm just to watch you buck your hips forward in an attempt to chase it once he pulled away. “be nice, you can be nice... sweetest girl in the whole world,” jason punctuated the end of his declaration by gliding his tongue from the tip of your bud to your weeping hole, easing his tongue in and out before introducing his middle fingers to your insides.
“mi fai impazzire,” he murmured under his breath, more to himself than to you. his palms pushed the back of your thighs forward to fold you further and keep you open. “you drive me crazy. i could eat you up, doll... just too goddamn pretty.”
“all yours, jay,” you moaned like ecstasy was murder. “keep talking to me...”
“y’like it?” came muffled from his mouth making out with your pussy, all messy with open mouthed kisses and suckles against your heat. when he rose his head, he grinned, the swollen tip of his cock was flushed red and leaking against the sheets. “sei tutta bagnata... you really love it when i speak all foreign?”
your back arched harshly as he worked his fingers deeper into you, the sickening squelch! sound of your cunt making a mess had you keening with shame. “mhm! love it, love you—”
“don’t cum yet,” he warned.
“m’ trying— o-oh!” his thumb circled your clit as he spat a fat glob of saliva to your folds, the spit mixing with your cream and turning frothy. he curled his middle finger in a come hither motion, and cum hither you did. “i’m cumming, i’m cumming, wait—!”
“look at that, fuuuck” jason withdrew his fingers with a wet pop! your orgasm crashing over you and slick gushing from your swollen pussy in a hot rush of wetness. “che bella.... look at you, baby.” he ground the heel of his palm over your used pussy to smear the mess you made and you whined, twitching against him.
“bellissima.” he stated, grinning wolfishly. then he looked up at you, baby blues darkened with that pleasure filled haze but dimples peeking out playfully. “when’s our next class?”
in which, KARA ZOR-EL stumbles drunkenly into your arms in an cosmic club, and just can't seem to help herself.
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includes: kara zor-el x fem!reader, alien!reader, no super-powers used, mature content (17+), intoxication, checking-out, grinding, thigh riding, making-out, semi-public, scissoring, oral (f. receiving [duh]), face riding, switchy!kara and switchy!reader, dirty talk, strangers -> fwb, 3.7k words.
‧₊˚✩彡
kinktober masterlist
THE PLANET where the sun does not set, though somehow, the night-life runs eternal, is where you've found yourself. the vibrating bass of songs for those far past sobriety has seeped its way into the veins of this planet, enrapturing its party-goers in a never-ending loop of ecstasy. shards of glitter cling to every fibre of breathable air, and in some way, intoxicate every individual wrapped up in the boisterous affair of partying.
it all seemed enchanting-- finally, the gift of intemperance bestowed upon you by the red sun. the ability to feel vulnerable, to let loose, not give a fuck about celestial accountabilities; untied to your title, even if just momentarily, you stood now: the dead center of a club with music far too loud and bodies of all kinds far too hot and close.
you didn't care about anyone else though. throwing back another round of shots-- purchased by a man from a planet not too far from earth-- your skin tingled. you felt alive, giddy even; inebriety clouded your vision (eyes glowing all the same nonetheless), limbs moving almost on their own, catching and slinking around their own rhythm.
you were no stranger to the act of stress-relief; fuck, who wasn't? divided by species, the galaxy stood united in the act of decompression.
how each individual chose to unwind, however, varied; and you had chosen tonight, to get as wasted as possible.
so drink by drink, your soul warmed and inhibitions lowered. finding solace in the cloudiness of your judgement-- you carried on, arms liquid, feet pounding in your heels, and hips grinding against anything that was behind you-- delirium enveloped you wholly.
cool gemstone from the bar counter-top brought goose-bumps to your skin as you ordered another drink. something classic, something easy to go down-- ('sex on the milky-way, please!' you had shouted at the bartender-- or at least, one of the bartender's seven heads-- with a lop-sided smile) slid before you in a glowing cup. the liquid hit your lips, the buzz of cosmic alcohol settling nicely in your stomach and-
jab!
you were certain someone's entire body had been flung onto you, your drink spilling carelessly down the front of your torso. swiveling on your bar-stool, you turned to see the perpetrator, only to be practically blinded by a mess of blonde hair.
"oh shit!" a girl with smudged sparkly eye-shadow and beguiling blue irises brought her arms out to steady herself from her fall. "i'm so sorry, pretty," she slurred softly, face etched with concern, "i swear i wasn't aiming for your drink-- though if i was, it'd be pretty bullseye, wouldn't ya' say?"
your throat dried up, despite the alcohol that had been downed only seconds prior to meeting this girl. "uh," you stuttered, suddenly feeling far too sober, "yeah. it's almost like you've got super-human powers, or somethin',"
the girl laughed; head thrown back, sternum on display, hands on her knees laughed. "or something!" she bellowed, cheeks flushed. "here," she said, once she calmed down, sliding into the open bar-stool next to yours, "let me buy you another one as an apology."
"you don't need to," you recovered smoothly, resting your chin in your palm against the bar counter-top, "i'm a big girl, i think i can buy myself another drink."
"big girl," the girl murmured, and you were certain her eyes flicked down towards your cleavage, lingering for a few seconds, before they darted back up to your own irises again. she grinned; one dimple popped. "well, too bad." she said suddenly, motioning for the bartender to get you another sex on the milky-way. "i want to buy you another drink."
taking her wandering eyes as an invitation, your own scanned her body. glitter clung to her skin everywhere like freckles; a simple white tank-top and skimpy silver sequin skirt doing virtually nothing to leave anything to the imagination.
you liked it.
when you made eye-contact again, it was your turn to smirk. even underneath the dark lighting of the club, you could tell her cheeks deepened in colour, red painting her face. when you spoke, all you said was your name-- it rolled of your tongue with ease, holding no weight-- unless she wanted to catch it.
and you figured she did-- because she scooted impossibly closer to you on her bar-stool, whispering softly, "kara." her name, with no weight; unless you caught it.
you did.
the bartender slid another drink in the same glowing cup easily over to you, and you watched kara over the rim of the cup as you downed half of it. "here," you slid the drink over to the blonde, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand, "finish it."
"it's yours," kara mused, running a hand through her hair absentmindedly.
"sure," you cocked an eyebrow up at her, "but i've already had like four of these, and after the fifth i tend to start forgetting things."
kara's face scrunched up ever so slightly at your words-- though she obeyed and brought the cup to her lips, the fat of hers aligning with the lip-stick stain you had left. "isn't that the point?" she giggled.
"not when i've found something i want to remember."
your drink fizzled against kara's lips, and you watched her eyes widen-- even through the warped glass. putting the cup down, she swallowed, and looked at you through thick, mascara-coated lashes.
the club pulsated around the both of you; heat radiating from every corner and consuming every inch of your soul. despite the vibrance and noise drowning the building, drowning the planet-- there was an unyielding silence that enveloped you and your counter-part; a tension so thick you could cut it with kara's jagged eyeliner.
"i like this song," she said lowly, so low, you almost missed it against the commotion of the club. "come dance with me."
it was odd-- you were well-versed in your travel of the galaxy; never had you met such an alluring individual, one with the ability to draw you in and keep you occupied with a simple flick of her wrist. you followed kara wordlessly to the dance floor, immediately intertwining your fingers with hers-- strong, sturdy, sure fingers-- when her hand had been offered to you. kara pulled you along with an ease that felt comfortable, rehearsed-- despite never meeting you before. as if you were meant to be connected, meant to be drawn in, meant to stay together.
she turned to face away from you-- her shoulder-blades pressed closely to your chest, head thrown back onto the junction where your neck met your shoulder, following the beat of the music. your hands slinked around her waist, holding her near, while you both moved in sync; your hips connected lazily to her ass, in which she grinded against you-- pursing her lips, glancing backwards at you innocently-- and continuing her movements.
your breathing became heavy, exhaling near her ear with a renewed intensity. something burned deep inside you-- desire-- flourishing with every sway of her hips, every grind to the tempo of the music.
suddenly, kara turned; her arms wrapped around your neck, and her eyelashes fluttered at you, inviting. there was no cease in either of your sloppy dancing, even as she spoke. "why have i never seen you here before?"
you laughed, baring your teeth ever so slightly. "'cause i've never been here before, love,"
"you look like you belong," kara breathed out, irises darting to your slightly parted lips. "in a good way, i mean. you look... god, gorgeous." kara's tongue darted out of her mouth, swiping over her lips, coating them in saliva. they glistened under the intense strobe lights surrounding you both.
something inside of you was beginning to crumble; leaning closer, you spoke into the shell of her ear: "that makes it sound like you're disappointed you've never seen me before."
kara laughed-- sweet, dangerous. "i am," she confessed, pressing impossibly closer to you, "i feel like i've been robbed of meeting my wife,"
her boldness nearly caught you off-guard, your grip on her waist faltering before tightening. "your wife? how bold," you teased.
kara shrugged easily in response, hands reaching upwards to scratch at your scalp. your shiver, you hoped, went unnoticed by the blonde. "you'd marry me, right, pretty?"
your chest was against hers, tits rubbing against the plush of the other's almost teasingly. without thinking, you used a knee to part kara's legs, pressing your thigh needily to her core. you watched her gasp-- a small, almost silent noise-- before she lowered herself (as best as she could) onto your body. "i'd do a lot more than marry you."
kara's blinks slooowed as she ground her hips-- her pussy-- onto your thigh. her breathing was labored, jagged against your throat, as you raised and lowered your whole leg repeatedly, building onto the friction kara so desperately craved.
"fuck," she whined, forehead pressing to yours with her eyebrows drawn tightly together, humping against your thigh with ease.
the both of you continued this mindless rendezvous like it was instinct. she dragged her dampening cunt against your thigh with increasing vigor, and your hands on her waist guided her back and forth and back again.
"can i kiss you?" you questioned, gnawing on your bottom lip. the crowd moved around both you and kara as if you both didn't exist-- relishing in their own form of decompression, as you were now finding what your kryptonite would soon become.
kara's eyes opened wider than they'd been in a while, and as an answer, she slotted her lips against yours messily. it took you only a few seconds to reciprocate-- before you met her with the same amount of intensity. she tasted sweet, tantalizing, with vague traces of your shared drink blurring into the edges of what made her her. kara's lips were soft against your own, puckering and kissing, widening to release her tongue from her mouth. you grinned into the kiss at the sensation of her eagerness bleeding onto you, and your own tongue slid easily against hers.
you whined into the kiss as kara began to suck on your tongue; the movements of your lower halves still continuing as if they had a mind of their own. her hips stuttered against your thigh almost in time with the music, before it all felt frantic. "o-okay," she gasped, pulling away from your mouth; a trail of saliva kept you both connected, and it glistened crudely underneath the dance floor's lighting. "we have to stop or..." her eyes glanced downwards to where her pussy was resting against your thigh-- unmoving by her hips, sure, but you swear it was pulsing. "..or i'll cum."
a wave of pride and arousal washed over you-- and you took kara's face in your palms, squishing her cheeks marginally. her face felt hot in your touch. "poor girl," you sighed, breath fanning across her lips, "you'll cum from a little dry humping?"
"i know, s'embarrassing," she huffed, blue irises rolling. "i'd rather cum... y'know, not in the middle of the dance-floor."
the reality of where you both were hit you intensely, a deep desperation suddenly fluttering over you. "alright," you said quickly, eyes scanning the building for something-- before they landed on the sign for the bathrooms. you leaned forward again, lips finding their place against the shell of her ear as you guided her towards the restrooms, "let me make you cum somewhere more private."
there was barely enough resolve left in both of you before the door to the bathroom slammed shut (and locked) behind you; kara eagerly pressed you against it, her mouth thumping against yours carelessly. without the overwhelming thrum of music trembling your bones, it was easier for you to hear the noises kara was emanating, especially as you kissed her back.
every little gasp, sigh, moan-- it fell onto your ears and sounded akin to angels singing. your hands tangled themselves in kara's hair, being showered in soft golden locks; when you tugged gently, kara groaned, parting her mouth to swipe her tongue against yours. you gasped too-- sighing as the sensation of her flooded you-- both your brain and panties.
kara's whines grew desperate before you felt her palm hook itself under one of your knees, raising your leg; without second thought, you felt her dampened panties connect with your thigh again, and she ground into you. "please," she stuttered, moaning loudly now.
you let her hump your leg for a little longer, pulling away from the kiss to watch her greedily grind herself against you-- yearning release. after a while though, you brought your hands to her hips to cease her movements. "stop," you said, watching kara's face fall. before she could open her mouth to protest, you pointed to the ground. "lay down. n' take off your panties."
kara listened wordlessly, clumsily shoving her underwear past her knees and off her person; she laid down, resting back on her forearms, legs naturally parting. the harsh lighting of the bathroom stung a little, especially after being in the darker ambience of the club for so long, but it highlighted just how wet kara was; with her skirt shoved upwards, her folds shone obscenely at you.
you couldn't help but whine, feeling your clit pulse with arousal-- with anticipation-- as you shrugged down your own underwear past your ankles. you bent down, lowering yourself to your knees, only to pause as you got comfortable between her thighs. there was silence-- real silence-- that washed over the both of you. kara blinked up at you, lust evident in her gaze, though it was laced with something else. as you threw one of your thighs over her hip in an effort to align your cunt with hers, she reached a hand upwards to cup your cheek.
"you're so pretty," she mused, quietly, as if to herself. as if she couldn't believe you were real.
you flushed deeply, feeling your cheeks burn. something about her compliment, the earnestness in which dripped from her voice-- it felt more intimate than anything you were about to do with her. "says you," you countered, finally pressing your pussy to hers. you mutually sighed, the pressure building up within your core being eased with contact. "y-you're beautiful."
from beneath you, kara bucked her hips upwards; the compliment shooting straight to her pussy. the newfound friction ripped a moan from you, from deep in your throat, and it sent shivers down your spine. you matched her pace, rocking your hips against hers; slow at first, almost timid, before euphoric bliss hedged your senses.
"o-oh," she gasped, her head lolling backwards as your clits bumped-- slick from both of your cunts making movement practically effortless. "you're so perfect," kara groaned, eyebrows knitting together, "this pussy is so perfect."
you nodded, head bobbing almost dumbly as you continued to scissor, your vision going cloudy and white in the corners as your pussies grinded.
you watched kara grin slightly, mouth still parted at the pleasure. "yeah? you like it when i tell you h-how good this cunt is?" at your enthusiastic response ("y-yes! fuck yes, kara, yeaaa!") kara laughed. the same sound from earlier that had your panties damp caused your cunt to clench hungrily against nothing. "i know you-- haah-- i know you do, baby,"
"y-your pussy s'so good too," you added, hips bucking wildly against kara's now. "so sloppy, so wet for me,"
kara's moans echoed through-out the tiny one-person bathroom recklessly; the inability to hold herself up in the face of pleasure enveloping her, resulting in her back fully hitting the tiled floor harshly. it didn't matter to her, though, as she arched beautifully, hips tilting upwards to meet your rash grinding. "don't stop," she gasped, nails digging into her palms, "i'm so close, o-oh fuck, please don't stop--!"
"i won't, sweet girl-- fuck, i won't," you reassured, continuing the exact pace of your hips against hers intensely. your own high was approaching as well, your movements growing less and less precise with every second that passed.
suddenly, with a singular moan and slack jaw, kara's legs began to thrash wildly as she came. her orgasm hit her like a truck-- cunt pulsing, throbbing, squelching against yours, every wave of pleasure taking over her mind and her body and her soul severely. "fuuuck!" she moaned, grinding her pussy messily over yours in a desperate attempt to ride out her high.
as kara's movements slowed, however-- yours did not. in fact, they only sped up, and you found yourself grinding against her cum-covered cunt with no rhythm, no pattern, eagerly. kara twitched against you, her cries becoming pointed-- jagged. "i k-know it's a lot," you breathed out harshly, in between moans, "but-- but, fuck, i jus' wanna cum, please let me use this pussy to cum," you tossed your own head backwards, sweat pooling at your hairline, "i know you can take it, kara."
the blonde beneath you yelped, overstimulation wracking her body; "i- i'm so sensitive," she pleaded, though she made no effort to peel away from your grinding. she wanted this-- wanted you to cum all over her, as she had done to you.
your orgasm was intense-- your cunt clenched rapidly, hips moving at an erratic, uncontrolled pace. "shiiit," you whined, before retracting your cunt from hers; overstimulation quickly washing over you as well.
your bodies glistened underneath the lighting in that bathroom-- the faint sound of the music continuing and bodies moving and indistinct chatter barely penetrating the euphoria of your orgasm's aftermath. both of your chest's heaved, sweat shining ever so slightly on both you and kara's arms and torsos. falling backwards to lay on the floor, you were spent.
the abrupt movement from kara caused you to glance upwards, and you swallowed heavily-- watching the girl crawl on all fours, closer to you. "jus' stay laying back," she whispered, voice raw from her moaning.
"are you not satiated?" you chuckled, watching the girl flip herself-- so her bottom half was closer to your head, and her own face was closer to your legs.
kara glanced backwards at you, pausing for a moment, before tossing one of her legs over your torso-- so that she was now straddling your chest-- with a practiced ease. "i've got a different kind of craving now," she answered simply, sitting upwards. the weight of the alien on your chest was grounding; erotic. "is.. is this okay?" she suddenly questioned, voice hesitant.
"yes," you barked out almost immediately, eyes crinkling at the corners with your laugh, "yeah, this s'okay,"
at your assurance, kara dipped down; her torso folded, and her mouth met your cunt efficiently. you gasped, hips bucking into her face, as her lips latched onto your clit. she moaned at your taste, and if she had been facing you, you would have seen entrancing blue irises roll into her skull. "you taste so good," she hummed, words muffled by your pussy. kara flattened her tongue against you, licking stripe after stripe along your cunt, absolutely revelling in your taste.
you were moaning so desperately, hips stuttering upwards every now and again to meet the strokes of her tongue. as she continued with her movements, you felt your shirt dampen from where her cunt was resting against your chest. something stirred to life within you, and without much more thought, your palms found her thighs.
you squeezed and molded the flesh easily beneath your touch, watching goose-bumps raise along the flesh, before you yanked her backwards; she yelped at the movement, before crying out in pleasure as your tongue met her cunt-- her pussy now on-top of your face. kara moaned your name lewdly, and you were certain the entire solar system would be able to hear the both of you claim the other with your mouths.
it wasn't long before, in addition to her tongue flattening against your clit, you felt her fingers prod at your sopping entrance. you whined into her pussy, the vibrations causing her to grind down onto your mouth, before you felt a slender finger of hers slide into you with ease. "so tight," kara groaned, wasting no time in beginning to finger-fuck you like her life depended on it.
you gasped, hips raising and thrashing at her movements-- her finger curling and uncurling against your g-spot with passion. "you can take it," she groaned.
continuing to lap at her cunt, you felt your orgasm approach embarrassingly quickly. "i'm goin' to cum," you announced into her pussy; fingers gripping her thighs and ass securely, you kept her held down onto your face despite your own pleasure coming to a peak-- tongue unrelenting as you curled it inside her, past her entrance.
kara shivered, raising and lowering herself ever so slightly to fuck herself onto your tongue; "me too," she confessed, drool and your slick coating her chin. "fuck, pretty, wan' you to cum on my face,"
all it took was her request-- your cum beginning to seep out of you, and your pussy beginning to seize against kara's mouth. your back arched off the tiled flooring, legs quaking as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you.
it wasn't long before kara followed; you had held your tongue out like, in kara's words, such a good girl, so she could continue to ride it. her pussy clenched around it as she came, hips rocking back and forth, chasing whatever high was remaining; milking her orgasm, drip by drip, continuously spilling into your mouth.
now you laid adjacent to one another, panting, still on the tiled floor of the club bathroom. around you, just outside of the locked bathroom door-- the planet continued to thrive. individuals danced with zero regard, they drank til' their hearts were full, and they decompressed as was meant to on this wild planet.
splayed out beneath her, kara's golden hair looked like sun rays; all pointing towards her flushed cheeks, the bottom half of her face shining with saliva and your cum. she tilted her head side-ways, to look at you deeply; intensely, the ferocity in her gaze unyielding-- like she looked at you and saw beyond the need for escape. "you should come out with me from now on, pretty,"
you swallowed, rolling onto your side to get a better look at the girl. "i think i'd like that," you whispered, smiling softly.
"good." she confirmed, giving a certain nod. "'cause you, gorgeous, know how to party."
PLUVOiA ‘25 ® - masterlist
loren's thots: wuhluhwuh! im sorrryyyy i lied and said id post this yesterday, i was running errands w my mother and well . yk how that goes. also sorry if this is ooc? idk much abt kara past her tiny lil debut in superman so,,, this is based on this version of her. n like ya i watched supergirl when THAT came out years ago, but i dont rly remember it soo.. apologies. i love yall! also i totally wrote this w one of my mutuals in mind. lmfao like ok girl kisser this is for u!
summary: exactly what the title says! how on earth does loser!clark handle your attention? horribly, obviously.
wc: a little less than 1k!
CWs: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader x clark kent, premature ejaculation (poor clarkie), reader's a bit of a perv but he LOVES you, fluff, no use of y/n!
author's note: this is a collab that i did with my sweet baby ash @sparklingsin who i love so so so much!!!! she also made the beautiful header up at the top of this post bc she is a talented and beautiful graphic designer <3
PLEASE read her virgin!clark headcanons HERE (18+ MDNI!) or else i will come after you!!!!!
Loser!Clark who has had the biggest crush on you since you started working at the Daily Planet with him, right across from his desk. He can’t bring himself to look you in the eyes, but he always listens to you when you speak because he loves the sound of your voice. He especially loves when you rush into work a few minutes late—making you the only person who shows up later than him—and, through all your shallow panting, chirp, “Good morning, Clarkie!”
Loser!Clark who just can’t seem to handle it whenever you give him compliments. He blushes so hard that he thinks his face might actually burst into flames. You give them to him every day, seemingly about anything you can think of.
“I love when you wear your hair like that, Clarkie.”
“Are you wearing a new cologne? It smells so good.”
“That book you recommended was fantastic. You have great taste, you know that?”
Part of him assumes you’re joking; why would someone as pretty as you give him any compliments? Why would you want him? But when you lean into him and whisper, “You look really handsome when you roll your sleeves up like that,” while you’re sitting next to each other during a meeting with the entire crew in a conference room, he stills. He finds out that he blushes even harder when he looks at you and you wink at him.
Loser!Clark who’s an absolute wreck after he realizes that you might want him like he wants you. He’ll never make the first move, but he’s giving you a little more attention. Actually looking at you when you speak to him now. He likes it when you sit on the edge of his desk and talk to him about your newest piece. He likes it when you tell him he did a real good job on his Superman interview. He likes it when you get just a little too close to him and gift him with the scent of your perfume. He doesn’t really like it when he has to hide how hard he is by staying hunched over with his legs tucked between his desk after he picks up on that said perfume.
Loser!Clark who almost passes out when you ask him to go to dinner with him after work. He kicks himself for agreeing because he has no idea how he’ll ever get through that dinner, but how on earth could he have said no to you? Especially when you looked up at him with those half-lidded eyes that were saying much more than your pretty lips were.
Loser!Clark who has to gnaw on the inside of his cheeks and pinch himself just to focus on staying here in the present with you in this tiny little diner booth. The amount of space between you and him right now is minuscule; there might actually not be any at all. He’s so dizzy from touching you that he isn’t too sure. You begged him to sit right next to you instead of across from you, and now you’ve got your arm pressed against his and you smell so good and he can see down the front of your shirt when he looks at you. He’s trying to be a good man, but…he’s been watching you all day, and he’s pretty sure you only have five of those buttons fastened when it used to be six.
Loser!Clark whose breath hitches in his throat when your nails ghost over his tie and your hand slides beneath it so you can slip your fingers into a tiny gap between the buttons. He has to squeeze his eyes shut and lean his head back to compose himself, especially when your breath gently fans out against his ear when you say, “I’ve always wanted to see what you have going on beneath these baggy shirts.”
Loser!Clark who almost bites through his own tongue trying to keep in a whimper whenever you lean up and start kissing his jaw and neck. His face had lost almost all its color because of how much of his blood was rushing down south. Now, though, his body has seemingly made up for it. How do you always manage to make him blush? How will he ever survive your touch if you decide to move somewhere else on his body?
Loser!Clark who doesn’t survive your touch when you move somewhere else on his body. As soon as your hand slid down the front of his shirt, your fingers moved over his belt, and your nails brushed over his thigh, you had him doubling over and spilling a load in his pants. He groaned (and tried to cover it up with a cough) so loudly that a few people in the diner even turned around to look at him. He was so humiliated that he wanted to get up and leave—and definitely find a new job somewhere else in the city—but you had other plans for him. They came in the form of a soft squeeze on his thigh, a kiss on his cheek, and a sweet set of words he never thought he’d hear from you: “You’re so cute, Clarkie. I'm definitely keeping you.”
