꒰ content ꒱ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ you sneak into the library for a quickie but get distracted by the books . . . jason todd x fem!reader, they makeout, suggestive, slice of life, reader’s wearing a sundress
inspired by this
Jason follows you around the library, his callused hand in yours. Amusement crinkles the corners of his eyes when he sees you scanning the shelves, looking for the perfect place for a quick fuck—your words, not his.
Jason had just given you a "you serious right now?" look and let you tug him around like a dog on a leash.
But even before that, he knew. His eyes had trailed over your form, over your short sundress, the one that had his head spinning since the moment he saw you in it. Convenient. It was a frilly thing that kept blowing up in the wind. You'd laughed. He cursed your carefree nature and kept the bottom of your skirt down.
He'd fight the wind and anyone who dared to look. And the sly look you gave him told him you damn well knew that too.
"Hurry." You tug him into a slightly secluded area between bookshelves. He inhales the scent of books, instantly feeling his muscles relax.
"Jason, focus," you complain, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt and tugging him down until his breath hovers over your lips.
His eyes find yours.
You smile. "It'll be quick."
He scoffs, but his lips curl up too. "Nothing's ever quick with you," he says, and he means it. Jason likes to savor you, worship you like no man ever has because you're his. It pains him to have to rush.
But well... how can he ever deny those pretty eyes you always weaponize?
"Fine, you win."
"I barely even tried."
"It's your eyes," he admits.
He starts gently, pushing you against the shelf—the classics section, his mind briefly notices before you crash your lips against his.
This kiss is messy and fast, your hands wandering down to palm him through his pants. He hisses, his hand sliding beneath your dress and up your ass.
He pauses, pulling back, his pupils blown. "Princess, you're not wearing anything—"
"Obviously." You roll your eyes and pull him back by his belt. "Now come on," you say impatiently.
"Fucking menace," he mutters, then presses hot kisses to the curve of your neck. For a moment, his eyes open, and they land on a book next to your head.
His body stills.
"Jason?"
He hums, his hands moving back to your waist.
"Jayyyyy." You drag his name out in hopes he'll pay attention to you.
"Gimme a sec, baby." He presses a kiss to your forehead before pulling the book from the shelf.
Pouting, you bury your face in his chest. His free hand tangles in your hair, keeping you close.
His other hand turns the book over as he reads the back.
"What book?" you ask, mumbling, accepting that you're not getting anything until you're both home.
"East of Eden."
"Sounds boring," you reply, but you perk up to look it over with him.
"'S’not. We can read it together."
You grimace. The two of you have the complete opposite taste in books.
"Sure, babe. Whatever you want…"
"That's what I thought," he says, already walking toward the desk with the book tucked under his arm. This time he’s dragging you away.
DOM!dean winchester who holds a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans when you two have sex in the bed beside sam, muttering a "shh, sweetheart. you don’t wanna wake poor sammy up now, d’you?" in your ear before nipping at your neck. when you nod and look at him with those teary eyes, he’ll smirk and kiss your forehead softly, a stark contrast to his thrusts that were destroying your cunt. "good girl." if sam does awake when your in a compromising position, your face will flush and you’ll give him an apologetic smile, while dean would just smirk and tease that "you missed all the fun, brother."
DOM!dean winchester who had to be touching you at all times, whether it was a hand on your waist, on your thigh, his foot grazing yours under the table, or literally just his pinky intertwined with yours when walking the streets. sometimes it was possessive, like he was letting everyone know you already had a partner, but other times it was different. you think those times were him just making sure you were there and still by his side, that you weren’t gonna leave him alone. you always let him, allowed him to take the comfort he craved in any way.
DOM!dean winchester who never lets you pay for your own drinks, food, or anything else you desired, despite you insisting time and time again that you earned your own money and could pay for it yourself. did he listen? absolutely not. he’d always act like he was deaf when you’d tell him, looking around absentmindedly before cutting you off by talking about something completely off topic. you shake your head and let him yap away, occasionally chiming in, unable to fight the smile creeping it’s way onto your face.
DOM!dean winchester who will twist your hair into a ponytail and tug it back when he’s balls deep inside of your inner walls, taking you from behind, his free hand raising and landing a hard smack on your ass every few minutes. he loved the way you’d whine at his palm striking your cheek, panting like a bitch in heat while he drove into you, your hands digging into his shirt that your face was buried in. he liked to have his clothing shoved in your nose whenever you had sex, so that when whenever you moaned and took a deep breath for air, all you could smell was him. all of your senses were him.
DOM!dean winchester who has you on your knees beneath the table if your out having dinner at a restaurant, which usually only happened on anniversaries or special occasions, his cock buried in the warmth of your mouth, tip hitting deep in your throat. he may try to keep his noises down, but he can’t help the groans that left his lips when you’d whimper around his length, your hand fondling his balls. his hand is tangled in your hair and pushing your head down until your nose was against his trimmed hairs, a low curse coming from him when he spills his load down your throat and you swallow it all.
DOM!dean winchester who dishes out the best aftercare once he’s done rearranging your insides so they’re molded in the shape of his cock. he’ll grab a towel that he kept bedside for nights like these and wipe the mess from between your legs, throwing it in the hamper along with the bedsheets. once the sheets are changed and the bed is now clean, he’ll lay down and bring you into his arms, resting your head on his chest. his fingers draw lazy patterns on your sides as he whispers praises in your ear, kissing the top of your head: "did so good f’me, sweetheart", "love you so much", "my good girl, aren’t you?"
ꜱᴜʙ!ᴅᴇᴀɴ ᴡɪɴᴄʜᴇꜱᴛᴇʀ who may seem confident and cocky in public, turns to a mess beneath you when you sit on his face, cunt soaked with arousal and his own saliva. he whimpers as he laps at your pussy desperately, fingers leaving imprints in the soft flesh of your thighs with how tight he was gripping you, teary green eyes fixated on your face as you degrade him and use his face like a fuck toy, your hands almost pulling strands out with how hard you tug at it.
ꜱᴜʙ!ᴅᴇᴀɴ ᴡɪɴᴄʜᴇꜱᴛᴇʀ who will have you sit on his lap, back snug against his chest, as he snaps his hips into your ass, his arms wrapped tight around your waist and his face fitted in the crook of your neck. there’s a large dark stain where the tip of his cock is tented against the fabric of his boxers, sure to crust after he was done chasing his third orgasm without even being inside of your tight cunt yet.
ꜱᴜʙ!ᴅᴇᴀɴ ᴡɪɴᴄʜᴇꜱᴛᴇʀ who can’t remember his own name as you ride him with purpose, hands tied to the bedposts with handcuffs, your panties stuffed in his mouth to deafen his pathetic whines (although wasn’t succeeding very well) and toes curling into the bedsheets. he had fucked you stupid plenty of times, always mocking you and smirking, but now, with your hands around his throat and belittling words being spat at him, he knew exactly how you felt. and, god, if he didn’t love it.
ꜱᴜʙ!ᴅᴇᴀɴ ᴡɪɴᴄʜᴇꜱᴛᴇʀ who will sit on his knees and rut his leaking cock against your foot when you walk through the door, fingers clawing desperately at your jeans as if trying to tear them apart. he would never even think about taking them off himself without your permission, knowing he’d be in big trouble if he did. his drool would leave a damp stain on your jeans, needy whimpers of your name and pants rolling off his tongue with each grind of his hips. if he had a tail, it most definitely would be thumping against the floor erratically.
ꜱᴜʙ!ᴅᴇᴀɴ ᴡɪɴᴄʜᴇꜱᴛᴇʀ who just wants to be your good little boy and listen to your every word. if you tell him to strip, he’s standing with nothing on but pre-cum smeared on his cock. if you tell him to get on his knees, he’s digging his knees into the carpet and looking up at you with half-lidded eyes. if you call his name, he’s already beside you, eyes fixed on you as he awaited your next command.
ꜱᴜʙ!ᴅᴇᴀɴ ᴡɪɴᴄʜᴇꜱᴛᴇʀ who is just an attention whore in the body of a sexy man trying to seem cool.
bf!jason todd who spends his free nights sat in your shared bed, with pride and prejudice in hand, blue-light glasses perched on his nose, and—most importantly—you sat in his lap. he loves to read his novels with his pretty lady curled against him.
bf!jason todd who climbs in through the window after patrol and immediately seeks you out, sprawling out atop of you. he doesn't even bother taking his suit off—he just whines softly, reaches for your hand, and shoves it into his hair.
bf!jason todd whose favorite position is either mating press or doggy. on one hand, he loves to have your legs thrown over his shoulders as he pounds into you, looking into your pretty eyes, seeing drool spill from your mouth. on the other hand, he also loves to see the deep, pretty arch of your back as your face is smushed into the mattress—loves to see the jiggle of your ass as his hips slap against yours.
bf!jason todd who always twirls your hair around his finger while you rant to him. his eyes never leave yours, attention never drifts away from the words pouring from your pretty mouth.
bf!jason todd who def whimpers and cries when he cums, especially if its inside of you. his broken past makes intimacy a sacred thing to him; he feels so incredibly safe and loved when you're making love that he can't help but whine as he releases.
bf!jason todd who practically eats your face when you make out. his head is tilted at such a deep angle so he can reach the deepest depths of your mouth. his long tongue? down your throat. his lips slide lewdly against yours, and he lets out the softest little grunts and groans. his hand grips your throat firmly—not so hard that you can't breathe, but enough to remind you that he's there, in the flesh. his other hand rests on your ass. he's a very messy kisser too—lots of spit, everywhere.
bf!jason todd who calls you all kinds of sweet little names. darling, babygirl, baby, love, sweet girl, mama, ma, lovie, you name it. how can he not come up with the most loving titles for his favorite girl?
bf!jason todd who can never keep his hands off you. he's always feeling you up, groping you everywhere. just woke up? he's engulfing you in a cuddle, hands sliding down your back and squeezing your ass. showering? his slick, soapy hands can't help but paw at your tits as you face away from him, rinsing your hair.
bf!jason todd who can be such a cuddly dog when he's at home with you. big body being spooned by you as you guys watch TV, head in your lap when you're reading, chest pressed to yours as he nestles his head in the crook of your shoulder, eager to hear you lull him to sleep with sweet nothings in his ear.
bf!jason todd who's 8 inches long and thick with a little bit of left curve.
munch!jason todd who spends every day, sometimes multiple times a day, positioned right between your legs. he truly believes that's where he belongs.
munch!jason todd who loves coming home after patrol and finding you curled up on the couch in nothing but panties and one of his oversized t-shirts.
he'll drop to his knees right in front of where you're sitting, taking hold of your calves to pull you closer to him, big hands already pulling at the waistband of your underwear.
munch!jason todd who once he gets you bare and sees your folds glistening with arousal, dives right in. licking and sucking at your puffy, swollen clit.
munch!jason todd who nearly creams his boxers when he hears your mewls and whines from him making out with your cunt.
munch!jason todd who can't shut the fuck up when he's eating you out.
"fuuuck baby-" he moans into your heat, "pretty pussy's s'wet for me..." he would ramble on and on about how much he loves this, if you didn't tug at his hair and shush him.
munch!jason todd who sticks two fingers in, scissoring you open while his mouth works tirelessly pleasing you.
"that feel good, huh?" he grins with a sort of pride, looking up at your fucked-out expression, "so fuckin' beautiful like this..." he's obsessed with the knowing that only he can make you feel this good.
munch!jason todd who ruts his hips against the couch the whole time, trying not to be selfish, but it's so hard, literally, when you're making all those pretty noises just for him.
munch!jason todd who can tell you're close before you even know it. when he feels your gummy walls fluttering and clenching around his fingers, and your breath get shallow, he knows all you need is a little encouragement.
"there you go, baby, you gonna cum for me?" he tilts his head, pulling his lips away you to speak, making you whine. he huffs a laugh and goes back down to suck at your clit harder than before, making you cry out.
"mhm... fuck- cum for me, sweet girl" he smiles into your cunt, relishing in the way you tighten impossibly around his fingers when you finally let go and cum with his name on your tongue.
munch!jason todd who licks you clean like your release is liquid gold, closing his eyes and focusing purely on how good you taste.
munch!jason todd who presses a soft kiss right on your sensitive bud when he's done cleaning you up, then gazing up at you with that whipped, lovesick look in his eyes.
munch!jason todd who has a very obvious wet patch on the front of his pants when he stands up. he flops down next to you on the couch and wraps his big arms around you, kissing the top of your head and holding you as you recover form your orgasm.
munch!jason todd who leans his head down to whisper sweetly to you, "you're jus' too good, baby"
Soldier Boy only lets you cut his hair, and he says it like it’s no big deal — just a practical thing, since the outside world thinks he’s dead and he can’t exactly roll up to Supercuts without starting an international incident. But everyone else in the squad knows he’s lying.
Dude trusts no one.
Not Butcher (for obvious reasons).
Not Hughie (because Hughie shakes like a chihuahua when he’s nervous and Soldier Boy is not about to put his jugular at risk).
Not that Starlight chick (too righteous — he’s pretty sure she’d use the opportunity to lecture him about responsibility and humanity).
But you?
Yeah. That’s different.
He doesn’t even fully understand why at first. You’re this soft, steady presence in the group — always patching people up, always making sure everyone’s fed, hydrated, and emotionally stable enough to not commit crimes out of spite. The literal mother hen to this unhinged murder flock. And when he looks at you, he gets this weird sense he can’t name. Like you see something human in him. Something worth not flinching away from.
So the first time he asks you to cut his hair, he does it all casual, tossing the scissors to you like it’s a chore. But you step behind him, combing out the snarls left over from forty years in a Russian cryo-sarcophagus, and your touch is so gentle he goes still. Like…still still.
You keep checking on him:
“Am I tugging too hard?”
“Let me know if anything hurts.”
“You doing okay?”
And he just sort of grunts, because he genuinely doesn’t know what to do with the fact that someone is worried about hurting him — him, the guy who’s been treated like a weapon more than a person, the guy who’s been restrained, injected, beaten, tested on, worshipped, and feared.
You’re the only one who treats him like he might bruise.
That’s the moment it clicks for him.
If someone was gonna have a blade anywhere near his neck…
If someone was gonna stand close enough that he could feel their breath…
If someone was gonna touch him in a way that didn’t make him flinch…
It was always gonna be you. Only ever you.
He sits there in absolute silence, letting you tilt his chin, run your fingers through his hair, snip around his ears. And when you’re done, when you brush the loose strands off his shoulders with that same feather-light touch, he says a quiet, rough:
“Thanks.”
And he means it in the deepest way someone like him can mean anything.
Because you don’t just cut his hair.
You make him feel less like a monster — and he’d never admit it, but that means more to him than any of them will ever understand.
anything about jason being a man of few words is propaganda. unless he’s exhausted, he’ll talk your ear off about the books he’s reading, his arguments with his brothers and teammates, the criminal operations he’s plotting on. he’s quick and witty, and has no qualms making fun of himself or you. you try your best to listen, honest — but sometimes you end up accidentally tuning him out. he’s not offended by this, don’t worry, and he’ll fuck off if you get overstimulated.
but, god help you, his talkativeness absolutely extends to the bedroom. you cannot tune him out then.
every word makes your face hotter, your moans louder. he gets off on it shamelessly. he’s constantly mouthing off, talking about how good you look, how good you feel, how good you are for him. you don’t have to do a thing, pretty, just let him do all the work. the definition of ‘talks you through it’.
“there she is, there’s my girl. so pretty f’me… god, baby, if you could see what i see. perfect little thing. i’d give you the moon, baby— s-shit, stop squeezin’ me like that. gonna make me cum too quick, like a goddamn virgin. if i wasn’t fuckin’ you stupid right now, you’d think that’s funny. what’s that now? ah, ah, ah? uh, uh, uh? sound so fuckin’ cute, baby…”
i don’t think he’s much of a moaner, honestly. i think he’ll grunt, occasionally groan, but the real kicker? he whimpers when he cums.
“shit, ‘m so fucking close. gonna give it to me? yes, you can, i know you can. c’mon, baby, you’re right there. i’ll rub your pretty clit— there you go. oh, i know, sweet girl. c’mon, be so good for me. there it is— fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck— mmph!”
the only time you can guarantee silence is when you’re basking in the afterglow. once he’s sure you’re clean and physically/mentally okay, he’ll pull you right back into him in bed. his favourite place to be is the crook of your neck. his lips will press a few sweet, soft kisses on your shoulder, but after that he just wants to lie there with you and breathe in your warmth.
summary: Jason loves to hear you ramble on and on, but sometimes you just don’t know how to stop. (based off of this ask)
warnings: mdni (18+)— not proofread (as always 🚬), smut, some fluff, allusions to a blowjob, needy ass Jason (he's a cheeky lil bitch, but *lovingly*), dry humping, mutual masturbation, finger sucking, hoppin dih dih dih (cowgirl position), p in v sex, raw sex, creampie, erhm yeah :3?
word count: 3.8k
a/n: first fic of 2026!! sorry that this took a hot minute for me to get to but I still hope you like it 💗!!
The snowfall seems to swirl and dance with the breeze, calling for a pretty and soft sight against the background of Gotham city's harsh and ruthless winter.
Outside, in a town usually painted black and grey with gore, the fresh snow and soft ice made everything freakishly white and feel almost clean.
The sight was stark in comparison to the usual gloom you were used to, and the change of season was always a feat most found hard to grasp. But here, inside of your warm and dimly lit home, you forgot entirely about the world outside.
The smell of cinnamon and vanilla filled your nose as an almost sweltering heat surrounded and hugged your body, chasing away the cold starting to creep in through the dingy cracks of your windows. The warmth wrapped itself around your waist and back, strong arms holding you tight and trying pushing you further into it as you laid your cheek against its chest.
You weren’t sure as to how long you’d spent the day like this, cuddled up on the couch in soft pajamas while your living heater of a husband held you close, but you weren’t complaining.
His chest rose and fell softly, heart pounding at a steady beat in time with yours, his nose nuzzled itself gently into the soft tufts of your hair as his lips rested against the arch of your brow, and you swore nothing else mattered.
It was one of those rare “once in a lifetime” days where Gotham was just too cold for crime, a day he could stay home and rest. When all he had and was allowed to think about was you, his favorite person.
And what better way to spend your time together than to cuddle up on the couch and let you ramble on and on?
A thin blanket covers the bottom half of your bodies, feet in fuzzy socks and legs tangled together as they sink into the plush couch cushions while the sound of your relentless babbling fills the room.
It started with Jason asking you a question, a simple “What was that book you were reading about?” which slowly and somehow turned into you explaining the genius world building of one of your favorite movies.
It was the easiest way he could lure you into letting him hear your voice, his favorite song and sound. You always got so embarrassed when he said he loved the way you went on and on about things, to the point you would become so aware you would stop talking.
And after so many years of marriage, he just couldn’t understand why. But thank goodness it didn’t take long for him to find a way that made you talk— a secret he was prideful that you didn’t catch up on. But even then, with that glorious feat, he still had one problem. Getting you to stop.
“Cause it’s like not just about deforestation but also a huge critique on capitalism, which don’t even get me started on-“ You rant passionately into your husbands chest, fingers mindlessly twirling soft swirl patterns into the material of his old GCU shirt, a small fidgeting habit you always seemed to do when he let you talk for this long.
“Mmhmn.” Jason hums into your forehead, a smile perking up on his lips as he looks down at the way your brows slightly furrow and lips pout the more in depth you start to ramble.
He always loved the little quirks you never seemed to notice.
“And it’s always about human greed! The more we have, the more we want and there just doesn’t seem to be an end…” Your words fade out as he starts to focus more on your face, mind so rudely starting to wander after watching the way your lips part and shine from a quick pass of your tongue.
Then a memory, just a flash, of you on your knees pops up into his head.
Your pretty eyes looking up at him, all wide and full of tears while his large hand combed through your hair slowly and gently, guiding you as your plump and kiss swollen lips parted themselves over his thick and aching cock.
It was gone as fast as it came, but it still made his whole body freeze.
His heart stopped, his breath caught in his throat, and the hand that held your head in the memory stopped its movements of rubbing your back right now.
Every sensation seemed to move down his body, like electricity running through his veins as he suddenly felt his cock twitch.
Fuck.
Heat crept up his neck, then his heart kick started the rest of his body back up again. It started pounding, thumping against his ribs as he tried to make his gasping for air not so obvious.
His eyes trace your face, searching for any sign of annoyance or disgust.
But you, sweet blissfully unaware you, were still rambling.
“I mean it's an endless cycle, it’s why we have so many movies based off of tropes like this…” You went on and on, and Jason sighed a small breath of relief. Just a small one.
Once you got into these rants, you really never stopped. The whole world seemed to pause for you, and Jason could never dream of taking you out of that. But right now, at this very moment, he wished to hear a different sort of sound coming out of that pretty mouth of yours.
Usually, he hadn’t a problem ignoring these… urges?
Most of the time, he was able to pocket these thoughts into the back of his head. Saving the ideas and memories that burned through him for when he really needed you, when they would overflow and he had the opportunity to get everything out of his system at once.
But with you laying on his chest, knees nudging against his thighs as your ass slightly rubs up against his semi, he can’t think of anything but having you right now.
Your tits pressed against his chest, body soft and supple in comparison to the hard ridges of his own. Your lips seemed to be getting even softer and plumper as you went on, the spit from you licking them again making them shine in the light.
It doesn’t take much longer for Jason to decide he’s had enough. He needs you, now.
But he’s slow with it, he knows he can’t rush but rather start by easing into firmer touches than before.
Where his hand rubbed your back, they moved down towards your waist. Slowly starting to thumb at the band of your pants as his fingers sprawled against the exposed skin below your ridden up shirt.
His nose nestled itself back into your hair, kissing along the lines of your cheeks as he (sorta) roughly pulled you up towards him.
“Really?” He hummed lowly into your skin, the sound coming up like a rumble in his throat after you said something in a particularly excited voice.
His hands made their way towards your ass, holding the soft flesh of your thighs as you mindlessly began to straddle him to be in a more comfortable position.
He bit back a groan, feeling of your warmth settling against his fully hard and aching cock.
“Yeah, but I honestly enjoy it everytime…” You reply, still somehow unaware of just what he was trying to do.
“Uh-huh…” He mumbles, leaning back in to kiss your skin.
Where he was giving small, tender pecks before, he changed to giving slow, open mouth kisses now. Dangerous, like a predator feeling up its prey, his mouth moved along your cheeks and down your jaw.
His breath was heavy, hot and aching against your skin. His hips jolt up into you, a groan rumbles up from within his chest, and your brain finally pauses long enough for your lips to stop moving.
Your body freezes, immediately feeling the burning heat radiating off of him and letting it start to settle into you. Your own heart races, heat crawling up your neck and spreading over you as you feel Jason pull you in closer.
You had half the mind to gasp and playfully slap him, tease and giggle before easing into him. But he thrusts his hips up into you again, and every thought of resistance flies out your mind, instead leaving a tiny whimper to fall from your lips in their place.
Just what he wanted to hear.
The change in air was immediate as he quickly pressed his mouth against yours.
He kissed like he was trying to devour. Tongue pushing past your lips to suck at your own, spit dribbling down the sides where they met, and it felt like he tried to take the very air out of your lungs until there was nothing left but him.
His arms hugged your waist, pulling you in closer and closer, tighter until your skin practically felt raw against the soft clothing separating you two.
You couldn’t fight the needy little whine that came out your throat, letting your face burn as you gripped at his shoulders for support.
You felt the fucker smirk at the noise, a hand coming to comb your hair before pulling you off of him in a swift motion.
Now that he had you, he sure as hell wasn’t letting this go.
Your lips open in a small ‘o’, a silent gasp escaping as you try to ground your mind and body before he’s pulling your head to tilt it back, exposing the bare skin of your neck to him.
He hums almost happily, nose nudging into the skin of your chin before making his way down to the smell of faint vanilla lingering on your neck from your lotion. He latches on before you can even catch your breath.
The sensation gives you whiplash. The feeling of his mouth moving slow and soft, leaving behind gentle nibbles and long licks, as opposed to the swift and messy movements of his hands still roaming your body makes your head spin.
“J-jay.” You stutter out, nails digging into the skin of shoulders to try and get his attention, but he pays you no mind.
The movements of his hips were growing absolutely devastating, sending shocks of pleasure spreading throughout your body. You felt it from the base of your spine to the very tips of your fingers, and you swore you could cry.
“Hon’, please.” you murmur, hands rushing up to his head and gripping at the soft locks.
“Mmn,” he merely moans against your skin, wide green eyes looking up at you from below. His mouth made its way further down, now sucking at the tops of your exposed breasts.
Since when did he pull your top down?
“Slow down.” Your hands grip his hair tighter, pulling and forcing his head off. His lips leave you with a soft ‘pop’, the skin red and tender where his teeth were last grazing against.
His brows furrow, a pout on his swollen lips as he whines and looks at you with a sort of disappointment.
“Slow down.” you repeat as you bite back a giggle, leaning down to kiss his parted lips.
He hums, chasing the peck you give him and turning it back into something deeper.
“Can’t, need you.” His hands wander back down your body, thumbs digging into the band of your pants all over again. This time, he catches your underwear with them, dragging and pulling down fabric until you're exposed and he's making you kick them off.
His fingers reach towards your pussy, a soft schlick noise filling the room as he parts your glossy lips.
“So wet f’me, haven’t even fucked you yet.” he purrs lowly, a toothy grin painting his face.
He watches you stutter, brows furrowing as you tilt your head into him and arch your back at the featherlight touches he gives you.
His thick digits run up and down your slit, gathering wetness from your entrance and teasing it up to your clit. He nudges each nerve with every swipe, shocks burning through you as a whiny little please start to spill from you.
“Hah- Don’t tease.” you moan, hips moving in time with his fingers.
You can feel him twitching against your thigh, the thick length of him burning through the fabric as you cling onto his shoulders.
He groans as you grind against him, shaky hands reaching down to pull out his cock. Your fingers trail down his belly, feeling the soft muscles of his stomach twitch and contract beneath his ridden up shirt while your nails scratch over the thick hair of his exposed happy trail.
He’s already leaking pre when you touch him, the tip of him needy and swollen as your hand wraps around the base.
It was almost impossible to believe some part of Jason’s scared and tired body could still feel so soft, even as it ached with a hardness he always got when holding you.
You move your wrist slowly, thumbing at the leaky tip and spreading it around for better movement. You watch as he bites his lips, chest heaving against yours as you both melt into the other's touch.
You can feel the way your slick has started to dribble down his wrist now, fingers carefully pumping in and out of you. Stretching you full with gentle scissoring motions as his fingertips nudge and press up against your gummy walls, finding the sensitive spot he knows will always make you fall apart.
You’re close to shaking, knees weak and almost trembling as you try to bite back the obscene noises that threaten to flow out of you.
You were practically biting your lips raw from holding back, embarrassment flooding through you at the sounds that manage to push past.
For all he loved to hear you talk, Jason sure loved to hear you moan even more.
Watching the way your lips part, chest heaving and throat gulping down the sweetest sounds he’s ever heard. Fuck, he swears he could get drunk on it.
Eventually, your lips had found his again, now panting and breathing into his open mouth. He eats every moan you push into him, tongue diving back into you as he licks and laps up your taste. Drool spills messily from the corners of where you connect, chins and cheeks sticky with the messy sight.
Your hand squeezes him gently, movements following the ridges and slight curve of his thick cock. Your fingers trace the sensitive lines of his veins, following one that starts beneath the base and slowly curls its way around to the side. The one you can always feel when he fucks you raw, making your head spin.
He moans when you pass your thumb back onto his tip, feeling more and more pre start to build. He was close.
You grin at the sound, repeating the movement as his hips buck into you mindlessly.
“Thought you said no teasing?” he groans, pulling away from your mouth. His fingers pinch your clit lightly, making a whine (that sounded more like a weird warble) spill out of you.
“Mngh, said that about you to me,” you pout, “not the other way around.”
He huffs out a laugh, giving you a peck on the lips before moving his fingers away from you.
“Sorry baby, I can make it up to you?” his voice is dripping in need, and you know just what he means.
You follow his movements, heart pounding out of your chest as you nod eagerly.
“Good girl,” he hums.
His fingers, still covered in your slick, lift up to your lips. He taps them against the plump flesh like he would his cock, “Open, ma.”
You obey, taking them in and sucking away immediately. Your tongue swirls around the digits, the salty flavor of your arousal and his skin hitting setting into your taste buds.
Your eyes stare into his the whole time, tears swelling at the corners as you feel him start to shove his fingers further back into your mouth.
“Jay.” you scold softly, the sound muffled around the saliva that started to build on your tongue.
“Sorry sorry…” he replies in an amused hum, pulling out his fingers and in turn sucking the saliva you left on them off with his own mouth.
Nasty fucker.
His hands find your hips again, fingers digging into your ass before giving you a soft pat. A signal to spread your legs and brace yourself.
You immediately do, fixing your position as your fingers find their way back to his shoulder for support once more.
“Fuck, so wet baby.” he groans as he starts to rub himself against your pussy, watch as the slick drips down and coats him fully.
His tip sinks into you slowly, spreading you open inch by devastating inch. You moan softly, walls clenching around the fat length as he helps lower you steadily onto his fat cock.
When you’ve settled down all the way, he pauses his movements, letting you feel and get used to the feeling of him.
He’s so hot beneath your skin, every inch of his body seems to burn and ignite itself into flames as he touches you. You can feel it start to melt and settle into your own bones, unsure if the need you feel is your own or his anymore.
“Move.” You gasp out when you’re ready, hips rolling into him gently as a signal.
He hums in acknowledgment, arms coming to wrap around your waist, pushing your tits into his face as he starts to slowly bounce you up and down.
It starts off gentle, the way it always does. With his cock still easing itself into your still tight walls, stretching you around every ridge and curve of him.
His lips find your breasts, sucking and practically drooling all over your nipples. He moans at the taste of your skin, eyes shutting softly as he savors the feeling of you all over.
The slow movements of his hips start to fasten, thick cockhead kissing your cervix with every push and pull. His veins massage your gummy walls, nudging at your sweet spots and making you gush onto him.
You can practically hear the way your pussy clenches around him now, wetness coating your thighs and his stomach as it spills and pools with every heavy thrust.
“So tight.” Jason moans, breathy little high pitched whines rising from his chest as he feels your hips grind into the rhythm of his.
“Best fuckin’ pussy, baby. Fuck.”
His hands massage the fat of your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh. His eyes roll back as you clench around him, chest heaving as the sound of your mixed moans fill the room.
Your body leans into his own, full weight pressing against him as he keeps fucking up into you.
His biceps flex and tighten, using his strength to make you bounce on his cock over and over.
Years ago, you might’ve felt bad. Would’ve pushed away and rolled yours hips to help, sat up and strained the muscles of your own calves in order to make it easier on him. But you didn’t anymore, haven’t done it since you realized he liked it.
The feel of your body against his, your weight crushing him as your skin sticks together with the thin layer of sweat that covers you both, practically melting into him as he nuzzled his nose and nibbled at the skin of your neck like he was trying to swallow you whole.
Your arms wrapped around his shoulders fully now,
his head resting at the top of your breast while your own rested a cheek against the messy tufts of his hair. Your nails scratch at his back, moans increasing in volume as his movements start to roughen.
At some point, he’d bent his knees for a better stance, resulting in the brutal way he was now plowing into you over and over.
His cock twitched, heavy balls tightening as more pre spilled and coated your walls.
You could feel the knot in your belly being to tighten, pleasure spreading from the base of your spine until the tips of your fingers felt raw and numb with it.
His breath is hot on your skin, his mouth wide open as he groans and whines at the way you tighten around his aching cock.
“M’ gonna cum,” he grumbles out weakly, voice high pitched and breathless. “W-where do you want it, baby?”
“Inside, please,” you moan out immediately, “inside inside inside.” You repeat the word over and over like a mantra, too cockdrunk that the thought of him pulling out feels like he just said he didn’t love you.
But Jason did love you, more than words could ever describe. Though he had a hard time saying it, his actions always spoke louder than his words. And stuffing you full of his hot, sticky cum was definitely one of his favorites.
“Yeah? Gonna fill you up, ma. Gonna have you feelin me for days- f-fuck-!” He groans loudly, hips stuttering in their movements as your cunt gushes around him.
You gasp, a broken sob leaving you as you cum.
Your back arches, knees locking up and shaking as your tight walls spasm all over his cock, milking him as he releases hot ropes of his cum inside with one final thrust.
His heavy cock twitches and his hips stutter, still fucking you onto him as you ride both of your highs out.
“That’s it baby, that’s it.” He mumbles lowly, words practically melting into one, his tone entirely fucked out as his eyes roll back and shut from the raw sensation of your pussy still clenching on him.
Cum spills out of you in tiny droplets, a creamy ring forming at the base where you meet as his movements slow down to a stop.
His chest heaves, lungs burning and his forehead sweaty as his shaking hands rub up and down your back in a soothing motion.
Your head falls into his shoulders, slouching your body and you swear you can hear the way Jason’s fast heartbeat starts to slow down.
Your cheek is sticky against his skin, you feel his lips come to kiss your temples in a featherlight touch. His cock softens inside of you, but he doesn’t pull out, only leaving it as a sort of plug to keep his spent inside.
Your fingers comb through his hair, scratching gently at his scalp and he hums in bliss. The tense muscles of his body soften, arms stopping to wrap around you in his heavy warmth and you realize you’re back to how this whole thing started.
Only now, you were too out of breath to even form any words.
The room fills with the sound of your gentle breathing, both of you laying together in a peaceful quiet. Until Jason decides to speak.
“Yknow, its good to know all it takes is my dick to shut you up.”
Thank you for reading </3!! Comments and reblogs are v much appreciated! If you have any insights please leave them kindly!
a/n: didn’t know how 2 end this >_<, i got real lazy by the end of last year so im greasing my smut writing wheels again chat okay bear with mee
jason todd is no coward. especially not in bed. he'd literally do anything and everything you ask, especially during sex.
he doesn't let anything get in the way of his personal time with you, so when you begrudgingly tell him you're on your period when he's already hovering over you, his boner pressing insistently against your thigh, he can't help the confused look that takes over his face.
"wha-" he also can't help but smirk at the sheer ridiculousness of you thinking a little blood is going to stop him from making you feel good. "baby..." he shakes his head, running his big fingers through your hair, "you think some blood's g'na scare me off?" he asks, "think i don't see that shit everyday, hm?" he speaks, pressing kisses to your the sensitive skin of your neck.
"s'gross, jay!" you whine, but you don't dare to stop him from nipping at your skin.
"angel, i really, really don't care" he says genuinely, somewhat fed up, and also somewhat offended that you think he could ever find you gross. "jus lemme make you feel good, honey," he already starts to work your shorts off, not caring to listen to anymore of your half-assed protests.
who are you to say no? especially when he's speaking oh so gently to you, and treating you with the most care when you're in such a fragile state.
before you know it, he's buried deep inside you and has you squirming underneath him, mewling in pleasure. "fuck!-" you squeak, every touch and every movement intensified to a degree that's overwhelming. he's moving in and out of you, his arm in between the two of you as he works at your clit restlessly.
"that feel good, baby?" he'll say, "fuuuck– you like that?" he purrs. he has no idea why you think this is gross, the blood only makes you warmer and wetter, in fact he prefers it.
his dick twitches violently inside of you whenever he looks down to see where the both of you are connected, his breath hitches at the sight of his shaft covered in blood and slick.
"s'not so gross now, huh?" he teases, a smirk that says he knows how good you feel right now, playing at his face. he's making you eat your words. "n-no jay!" you shake your head, your jaw slack as your orgasm approaches quickly. "yeah, that's right pretty" he coos, leaning down further to kiss you deeply, swallowing your moans and whimpers.
he feels himself grow closer as well, his balls tightening. it's only been about 10 minutes. he usually lasts much longer, but you're just so much wetter, yknow, given the circumstance.
you cum around his cock with a cry, and he reaches that peak right with you. after he spills deep inside of you with a low grunt, he just has to pull out to see his cum dripping out of you, the blood mixing with his release a plus. he swears he could cum again just from that sight.
he looks up at you, your eyes closed and your chest heaving as you lay there in a fucked-out state. but you can't deny your cramps have lifted. jason speaks,
jason todd, who moans like a pornstar. first they're raspy and deep, the kind you'd expect from a burly man who drives a motorcycle. but as he gets closer to the sweet taste of release, the noises become pitchy, almost whining. he's embarrassed by how easy he sounds; the way a well placed nip of your teeth can pull a broken, whiny noise from the man's throat, no matter the length he goes to hide it.
jason todd, who can't shut the fuck up when he's inside you. it's like his brain shuts down; he's unable to stop himself from saying "you look so pretty like this, ma," when he's folding you in half, his lips between his teeth like it'll keep the sound of low, broken whimpers from leaving his throat. it never does.
jason todd, who underestimated how much he'd end up liking the feeling of your hands wrapped around his neck, just barely providing a hint of pressure. something about it just makes his mind feel fuzzy with pleasure, like nothing matters but the feeling of your fingers on his skin and the feeling of being inside you.
jason todd, who wants you to smack him around a little during sex. you're riding him, hips slamming down over his in a sweet rhythm. yet it's not enough; he's perilously close to the edge, but jason just needs... needs... "hit me," he babbles from beneath you, his brows furrowed in flustered frustration, "hit me, ma."
your hips stutter as you cock your head, murmuring a low, "what?"
"hit me, i... i need--" he groans in quiet frustration, "smack me, baby, please."
and ever one to please, you do.
the moan jason lets out is sinful. its a broken, needy thing; the kind of sound you want to keep for yourself alone, like a treasured secret.
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 😬 part II
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?”
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.
