SYNOPSIS: you ask your boyfriend what language he thinks in.
NOTES: suggestive, 18+, you speak english, established relationship, cosy n sleepy. probably needs another proofread aha
your bedroom is toasty, with remnants of your citrus honey perfume you sprayed on before you rushed to work in the morning and lingers of your boyfriend’s infamous smoky sweet smell from where he undressed moments ago to lay beside you.
under the covers beside bakugou katsuki, you couldn’t imagine anywhere safer. you both purposely decided to go to bed early (early for you, not for him) just so you had enough time to make out like teenagers.
you’re in your pyjamas, a lilac soft camisole and old granny striped panties from years ago. they’ve slightly lost their elasticity, a little out of shape but that’s the reason you love them so. also they always manage to get a hearty laugh from katsuki despite their lack of sex appeal. they don’t bother him, he’ll still tug them off with his teeth.
you’ve got your pale pink silk bonnet on, tied to a bow around your head. you’ve tried getting bakugou to wear one, protecting his blonde locks but you’re lost on getting it to stay during the night. it ends up by his feet on the bed, the floor, his face, one time your face. you’ve given up, buying him a silk pillowcase for when he stays over.
the silk is cold on your cheek as you share a pillow on your double bed. nose to nose, body to body.
katsuki is way too big for your bed, the width of his shoulder covers half of your side and it’s something you should complain about… though you can’t when all that toned raw muscle cuddles you to his chest.
it’s quiet in your room, aside from the smacking of your lips, katsuki’s low grumbles that rumble from the pit of his stomach. then when he bites on your bottom lip, it’s a little whine that accidentally flutters out.
it’s a few seconds of staring at your sleepy lover in the dark while your lips are apart, breathless. your hand cups his cheeks and bakugou tugs you closer to him by your hip. you know he’s aroused, he struggles to hide it on a good day but in your bed with his guard down, he finds no reason to.
he squeezes your waist harshly, pushing out a shaky exhale from you like a squeaky toy.
“you’re so beautiful,” he mumbles, guttural like the truth is pulled out from him without his permission. being alone with you does this to him. has him struggling to lie and not say what’s on his mind. katsuki wouldn’t have it any other way.
his skin is shiny from the expensive moisturiser you recommended, making him appear like a baby that just got doused in vaseline. luscious. healthy and stunning with his plucked eyebrows and scar right under his cheekbone.
“no, you are,” you reply, shutting him up by giving him another kiss.
it’s a leisurely kiss. you feel his jaw widen as he tilts his head over yours. your tongues tangle for fun, as if you’re playing a pointless game where you’re both going to win. bakugou manages to suck on yours and without meaning to another whine slips from you.
the only thing on your mind is bakugou katsuki.
you pull away from him, a quick peck on his lip before blinking at him.
“what?” katsuki breathes, tapping your ass cheek twice before resting back on your waist. then he decides to sneak his hand under your cami, his hand cosy under the fabric.
“what language do you think in?” you ask, running the pad of your thumb over his cheek scar.
“why’re you thinkin’ about that?” he rubs his top lip on his septum then he grabs your hand off his face to kiss your thumb. he’s always transferring your love back to you.
you hum inconspicuously, “i’m thinking about you.”
“japanese, baby. then i translate in my head to talk to you.”
katsuki wants to go back to feeling his lips over yours, tasting every inch of you. but now he’s studying the sleepy sadness in your eyes, how you jut out your bottom lip like you’ve just been wronged.
you’re not wearing anything under your camisole so he’s able to run his thumb on the underside of your breasts.
“what’s wrong with that?” he asks, trying to figure you out.
bakugou katsuki finds that having a girlfriend often means having to learn another new language. that when you tuck yourself away from him after an argument in the car, it means you want him to talk and not that you need space. that when you want to get dessert, he has to also say yes. you can’t get dessert alone, even if he doesn’t want any.
you huff softly, running your hand down his bare stone carved chest to the rim of his cotton shorts.
“it sounds like a lot of work you have to do mentally to be with me. i want it to be easy.”
bakugou frowns. you’re disappointed, fucking heartbroken by the looks of it. he wants to laugh, how silly you can get when your unfiltered thoughts come out. you wouldn’t admit something like this during the day, you’d probably make a joke that he should be working his brain to keep up with you.
but you’re softened and closer to the dreamworld than you are on the bed with him.
“it’s not like that, princess. i don’t gotta think twice,” he half shrugs, “it’s not a conscious thing anymore. i just think and out my mouth is english. nothin’ deep.”
you’re not having it, sighing to yourself, “i’m gonna get really good at japanese for you. i’m not bad at it.”
“your pronunciation is amazin’,” he smiles at you, ducking forward to kiss your lips.
“thanks,” you mumble, opting to feel him up instead.
your hand smooths up his chunky bicep, then down the deep chisels of his back. bakugou thinks you’ve moved on, that he can go back to smushing his face against your pretty one when you speak again.
“there’s a whole world in your head i don’t know about.”
you look at his necklace when you speak, an old gold chain of yours that you gave to him. it was too thick on you and it suits him perfectly. you tug on it, feeling each ridge between your fingers.
“hm?” he pushes you to explain.
“words that can’t translate. the dreams you must have. you know how you can read translated poetry and the notes about the poem are longer than the poem itself? that’s your head and i’m outside of it.” you whisper, holding onto his chain while you kiss him like you feel lonely. though he’s right there.
but bakugou doesn’t pout back. you’ve got him thinking.
“you should be an outsider when i’m with you and your friends or you and your family. i think i know english and then you’re saying words and phrases that i can’t understand. all sounds like gibberish to me.”
“that’s like made up words and slang. you’re still fluent. it’s not the same,” you poke back.
bakugou chuckles, rolling onto his back and closing his eyes. he pulls your hand to rest on the centre of his chest and he places his hand over yours. you feel the gentle patter of his heartbeat, it soothes you.
“‘m not fuckin’ fluent.”
you nudge closer to him, unable to not be all over him for a second. you sling your leg over his waist, hugging him to you and running your nose along his ear.
“yes you are. you know everything.”
“you don’t know what it’s like to argue with you.”
that makes you pause which makes bakugou turn back on his side to look at you.
you purse your lips then relax, “what do you mean?”
“when you’re mad at me, you speak fast as hell, usually cussing me with words i’ve never thought to put together and you’re so quick with it. so fuckin’ quick.”
you’re unsure how being quick is different to speaking fast.
bakugou can tell you’re still confused. “my brain just can’t keep up. like i’m still translatin’ the last sentence and now you’re tellin’ me to go fuck myself ‘cause i’m a shit piece.”
you giggle at that. piece of shit, he knows.
“i think you’re making excuses because i’m always right,” you play.
bakugou shrugs, “maybe baby. but it’s so fuckin’ hard. i know what i wanna say when we argue but then you’re already on to the next point and i haven’t answered the first and then ‘cause i’m not talkin’ ‘cause im tryin’ to think, you think i don’t care.”
it’s easier to talk about arguing when you’re not arguing.
“oh kats. that makes me sad. i’ll be more patient—,”
“no, no. i wanna be able to handle it.” he squeezes your hand.
“it’s not something to handle. i see when you argue with kiri and deku. you’re quick then, even though i don’t know what you’re talking about,”
bakugou grins, “i do like when you call me a fuckin’ dickhead.” he mimics your accent, his own chesty chuckle falling out when you put your hand on his face and grimace loudly.
he kisses the centre of your palm and the tickle causes you to pull away.
“i’ll be better for you,” you whisper and bakugou shakes his head.
“no, i will.” you finalise.
bakugou sighs softly, knowing your mind won’t change.
you chew the inside of your cheek, a sign you’re dying to speak.
“go on then, baby.” he smiles.
“english isn’t even a romantic language. nothing sounds pretty, if anything it’s a pretty evil language—,”
bakugou stuffs his head into your neck, pushing you back into the bed softly. he begins nibbling on a soft spot before resting his lips on top in a wet kiss. he rubs over your lower back in slow circles.
“too much thinkin’, baby,” he works on your neck, loving how you mould your body into his, “it’s romantic ‘cause i’m talkin’ to you. your birthday cards, even your texts to me sound like poetry.”
you grunt to yourself. you are a good writer.
“you speak english at work. it’s not always romantic for you.”
bakugou rests on his forearm, hovering over you. “i can speak any language i want at work and people will find a way to listen.”
there’s the humility you love in your boyfriend.
“but i love talkin’ and understandin’ you. your big ass world in there,” he taps your temple with the tip of your finger, “the only benefit to knowin’ this language is i get to know you.”
you awe before you can help it and bakugou hangs his head in a blush. he manhandles your body with a single hand, pulling you closer under his arm.
“maybe english is romantic.” you hum, “and don’t lie to me. you need english for me and to watch those american superhero movies without subtitles.”
bakugou looks up at you grinning, nudging his nose into your cheek, “not true. the japanese dub is sick. rather listen to it in japanese.”
you can’t push your smile off, “so just me?”
he nods like a lovesick fool, droopy sleepy eyes and a wandering hand. “just you, princess.”
with your mind settled and tonight’s questions answered, you and bakugou go back to learning each other's language.
this time bakugou lets you sink your tongue into his mouth. wet kiss after wet kiss, your nails satisfyingly scratching through his hair and scalp.
bakugou moans into your mouth, sending vibrations throughout your body. “i love you.”
“i love you and thank you for letting me win all the arguments. you need to level up before you can fight me,” you giggle against his lips.
bakugou rolls his eyes, he’s got you back, bubbly and tender in his arms.
“yeah, yeah, princess,” he grins at you, looking over your body. he brushes his hand over your clothed groin, your fluffy pubic hair all tucked under your high waisted panties. “d’you wanna take these off for me? wanna hear you moan for me.”
you look like he just offered to eat you out. shiny eyes, pawing down his chest, finger already hooking in your underwear.
“head, please,” you say politely, the sweet back and forth that gets you internally giggling at yourself and bakugou always rolling his eyes.
“that’s a word i learnt from you. head. through context clues and all. didn’t learn that at school in japan.” he shakes his head, helping you yank off your underwear. he tucks the fabric under his pillow to find it easily later.
“what would you call it? cunnilingus?” you look at your boyfriend, shirtless and sexy, hike your legs over his shoulders as he ducks down to lay on his stomach between your legs.
“the fuck is that?” he blurts, forcing his eyes from your glistening pussy to your pretty face, hitched up from your pillow.
“the proper word for eating pussy.” you say.
bakugou blinks at you, “repeat it f’me.”
“cunnilingus.”
bakugou repeats it after you as if he’s tasting every syllable on his tongue. though since he’s so close to you, your hips inch up in his face without meaning to.
he ignores you for the time being, “i don’t like that word.”
“w-what would you say?” you ask, licking your bottom lip. despite the rising heat over your body, you’re still curious.
“eating pussy.” he smirks like an idiotic boy that just said a bad word. he spreads your thighs apart, rubbing his cheek against your inner thigh.
“oh. duh,” you laugh flustered, thoughts all on a one track road. he’s so gorgeous. sexy. you wanna drag him up to kiss him, you also wanna be touched. “can you? eat my pussy?”
bakugou says something to you, full japanese with beaming cheeks. his lips curl around every syllable, fluent and unfamiliar to you yet home on katsuki’s tongue. his smile doesn’t let up, he punctuates his comment by kissing your thigh.
“what?” you whimper, breathless just from his mouth close to your centre.
“said you’re a brat.” he translates, spreading you open with his thumbs. damn. he might have to fuck you after.
“yours, though.”
he agrees, looking straight at your wet folds just from a little kissing. he ensures that he says his next words directly to you so there’s no mistranslation, “mine. and i’m yours.”
comments n tags appreciated! part two comments will be deleted.
“as if you’re playing a pointless game where you’re both going to win.”
“with your mind settled and tonight’s questions answered, you and bakugou go back to learning each other's language.” OUCH, Luna, IM SPEECHLESS. oh my GOD. I’m going to bed all giddy again thanks to u (I NEED him badly) ｡ ﾟ(｡ﾉ＼｡)ྀིྀི ﾟ｡
Btw, this scene reminded me so much of a film called “Past Lives”, where the main couple has a conversation about a very similar topic. When two people have different native languages, it feels like there’s a whole part of each other’s inner world they can never fully access because of the language barrier.
It’s such a dense, deep scene, and yet it feels so… “mundane” at the same time. (To me, the whole filme carries this energy actually!) I mean, it’s just life being life, the way things are. But those feelings carry so much weight, a kind of loneliness that can’t be solved just by being present. After all, it’s a whole part of who we are. But you approached it with such tenderness and domestic intimacy. I really love the way they (I mean, we?? me and kats yeah) talk through things together, I could really relate to yn overthinking about this in that moment. I also really like how you usually write Katsuki as a native Japanese speaker who's speaking English with reader (or whatever our native language is, that's how I always picture it!). It adds such a human touch for some reason, and I adore that.
In a way, I relate to it a little!! English isn’t my first language, and there’s always that feeling of being slightly “out of place,” trying to fit into a space (for me, I mean social media!) where it’s spoken so naturally and familiarly, with all the slang, tones, and little expressions that come with it. But at the same time, there’s something so rewarding about slowly feeling like you’re crossing that barrier, little by little, even if you’re doing it in your own way. It doesn’t always sound completely natural lol, but it’s still such a good feeling to realize you’re kinda getting there.
Anyway!! I LOVE iiit sm!! With every post, you somehow find a way to make me love your writing even more than the last one. At this point, I think almost half of my entire recs blog is just your drabbles and fics lol. I absolutely love the way you write everything so vividly and tangibly! it feels so SO cinematic. The DIALOGUES that you make, I LOVE THEM. I'm such a huge fan of reading and also writing like this! I genuinely adore the way you narrate those little specific details, the touches, textures, glances. It's something I really relate with and also inspires me a lot.
Again, it's all so ordinary, yet it feels so special and intimate!! UGHH It always reminds me of that concept that okay, sound a bit cliché, but there’s really so much beauty in the tiniest details and the ordinary moments of life?? lol
omg this turned out HUGE. sorry if anything sounds wrong! anyway, angel!! 😭 Thank u so much for writing for us!! Love love! ♡♡
⠀⠀⠀— 0.8k ៸៸ fem! reader , suggestive content , established relationship , jay is a flushed sweetheart
jason is a thigh man. not boobs nor ass, he loves how soft the skin is in that area and how good it is to lay on them. but nonetheless he loves your thighs. obsessed with them actually.
when you started dating jason you didnt take him as a touchy guy. he was more reserved at first and mostly you had initiated physical contact. but the truth was that he was shy —scared even to touch you. it was that you were just so pretty that be physically shook while looking at you!
and something you never noticed early on about him is that his sight lingered on your thighs. he couldnt help himself! he was just a man after all but he would do nothing you werent comfortable with, he was serious about you and wanted to do the best he could be for you.
as the relationship goes on tho you started to notice and one day it was very clear about his… ordeals.
jason had asked you to come to a gala with him. he normally dips these things one hour in but with you? he wanted to stay until the planners kicked him out just to see you in your pretty dresses he liked to buy you.
but tonights dress? pheww he had his work cut out for him. the way the dress clung to your curves and the slit showed off your legs — he was a lost man.
you had seen his eyes, the way he bluntly looked at your figure and stopped on your thighs and just… stayed there. he was being obvious about it too, so obvious that bruce was shaking his head in embarrassment and slight disappointment at his son. but — jason could care less, his girlfriend was hot, why gotta hide it?
on the way back from the event, the car ride was quiet. the grip he held on the steering wheel was tight. he knew you caught him staring and he was scared he fucked it up — like he always did in past relationships.
“you can touch them yknow?” you say, cutting the silence. your legs sat crossed in the passenger seat while you looked at his side profile. his jaw was tight and he looked like he was holding back of god knows what.
jasons eyes widen, he flicked at you before looking back at the road and you swear you can see his cheeks flushing.
“touch what?” he mumbles, coughing slightly as he adjusts his position in the drivers seat.
you scoff with a smile on your face. you grab his free hand and pull it to rest on top of your thigh. he lets out what seems to be a small whimper as his hand is barely touching you thigh out of embarrassment.
“jay weve been dating for a while now and i saw you looking at them tonight, its fine to touch them you know?”
saying that in your warm voice of yours made him melt. he awkwardly nodded. the fact that you noticed made him feel embarrassed but he had to remember that you loved him very much and this reassurance coming from you made him feel safe — wanted even, and he couldnt want it from anyone else.
so with a squeeze on the plush skin and his grounding hand on there the whole ride back to his apartment, you knew it wouldnt be the end of it.
and oh boy it wasnt.
⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁
at anytime he got he would have his big hands on your thighs. it was his anchor, he couldnt not touch them for less than three times a day.
he had a habit of grabbing you by them instead of your waist. if you passed by while he was on the couch, he would grab your thighs and pull you to his lap or give them a squeeze. and for moving past by you, he would put his hands on the back of your thighs, right under your ass cheeks, and scoot with a big grin on his face.
every night when he was with you, he made it a routine of massaging them with lotion, making circular motions. and — of course — always with sweet words, telling about his day and how much he missed you, or the little things he noticed about you that week. its secretly your favorite part of the day.
buying you clothes that flattered them was something he loved. jason adored spoiling his lover but might as well get something in the process, am i right? dresses, shorts, skirts, tights, garments, everything that accentuated those pretty thighs of yours, he was all in for. and the cute smile on your face when he does so makes it impossible to resist.
and nights where he had it rough at patrol or just life in general, he would barge into your place, nuzzling his face in your thighs and laying there as long as he wanted to. how could he not? you ran your fingers through his black hair and the touch of your thighs on his cheek was so soft, it was heaven to him.
his death wish would be to lay on them, just one last time. he loves the softness but he might love whats between them more.
⟢ 𝗆𝗒 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗌: i yearn for a man who yearns for thighs
fanon bruce: you'll NEVER be jason!!! no wonder your parents make you sleep in a cage boy [slams tim into a concrete floor, breaking his fragile bones and sensitive spirit]
okay, so maybe jason likes fucking you at a nice angle. and maybe, for all intents and purposes, that angle ends up being reverse cowgirl — especially when he's in one of those moods. don't get him wrong, jason loves a good doggy or missionary, but you in reverse cowgirl? while he's trying his hardest not to cum inside?
his bicep rests over his eyes, free hand set lazily on your hip for the sake of saying he held onto something the entire time.
"yeah, that's it," he groans, sinking into the mattress. his cockhead presses against that particular spot inside that makes you see stars, each bounce drawing out an embarrassing moan from your lips. "that's my pretty," he praises, breathing hard enough for your to hear. the tremble in his voice lets you know more than enough: he's been holding in the urge to cum for less than a minute, sweating to keep the edge off his voice. fingers barely digging into your skin, he holds your hips down with both hands, stopping your movements. a whine nearly erupts from you.
jason's struggling. he's one good thrust away from cumming inside, your name at his lips in weak pants. "jay?" "just a second, sweetheart." you turn your head to nab a quick glimpse, finding the sweetest closed-eyed and bitten lip expression. his eyebrows are knitted together so perfectly, a mess of sweat at his forehead. he’s trying his hardest for you.
“jason, baby,” you start, chest heaving as you catch your breath, “it’s okay if you cum.” it isn’t like he doesn’t know that, but reassurance gives the man a sense of peace. he squeezes your side and brings you into a slower pace, shuddering with every soft bounce, head thrown back. your thighs are shaking, most likely due to the sudden stop brought back into movement, but jason’s twice - if not thrice - as wrecked beneath you.
his breathing turns erratic, cock jumping at any stimulation when your folds flutter around him. red in the face with an utterly pathetic moan, his hips jolt upwards, mind going blank. you feel it seep between your legs, warm and thick, and he quite literally writhes. the view from behind is delectable, a beautifully arched back whilst he paints your insides, all on display for his eyes.
they’ll think you’re a bitch anyway for having some reasonable boundary so you might as well just be a bitch sometimes and save yourself the trouble, the time, the energy, the money, etc
the mexican football team has a 17 yrs old player and one of the funniest outcomes of this is that he cannot appear in any ad for gambling or drinking so he only appears in candy and milk advertisements. his first world cup and he's not even legally allowed to drive. his nickname is "morita" (little berry). he's three apples tall.
thinking about your sweet pussy being RESURRECTED KNIGHT! JASON TODD’S good luck charm before going into battle.
being a knight is a tough task for anyone— but for jason? it’s an easy task. and certainly, the fear of dying in battle was one anyone had entertained with… but jason was a rare case of having experienced death— it’s only the fact that he’s a living and walking example of resurrection that he doesn’t fear death anymore. he doesn’t fear bleeding out from stab wounds, he doesn’t fear losing a bought with a fellow knight… no, what he fears most; is not coming home to you.
you gave jason a chance when no one else did— you gave the “skeleton knight” as they call him because he’s a living dead man— a chance… and he never looked at you the same again, in the best way possible.
so, it’s not shocking that when the time comes that he and the fellow knight squadron has to follow king’s orders and fight another kingdom’s knights… he takes the time in the night before to ruin you, ruin your pussy all over again— because he loves you, and the best way he can show that? by letting you ride his cock like this.
“fuck baby, keep bouncing like that.” he whispers in the golden light of your bedroom, the fire place burning golden light onto the walls as the stars in the sky brightened. “fuck you look so gorgeous up ‘here sweetheart.”
you moan louder than you mean to, both hands on his chest, digging into the scars on his chest from both combat and his death itself and looking at him— disheveled as all hell but beautiful in his eyes. “jason- ngh! fuck!”
he nods encouragingly, his left hand running up your chest and cupped your cheek, his right hand remaining on your hip. “just keep going baby… ride me like that…”
“why— why you always gotta leave— fuck!” you whine, knowing the answer but wanting him to say it. “just s-stay… stay here with me, jay…”
he chuckles, meeting your bounce half way and thrusting into your fluttering folds, fucking your pussy rough as he begins to meet you halfway consistently. “because hun… it’s my job… i promise to come back to you, sweetheart.” he whispers, leaning up and pressing a kiss to your trembling lips, feeling you moan against him. “never leaving this pretty lil face alone… ‘promise.”
you couldn’t stop the moans from leaving your lips, your right hand stay on his chest and the other wraps into his black hair, nails digging deep. “jason! oh! fuck! right there— ngh!”
jason didn’t stop the smile from staying on his lips, squeezing your hips. “that’s why i fuck you this good, baby, you’re my good luck charm— haven’t gone a night without fucking you… since the night i met you.”
you tried to bite back but you couldn’t… only moans and his name falling from your mouth— he always made sure you knew he loved him with the way his hips move.
“always gonna make you feel good baby.” he continues to whisper, stroking his thumb on your cheek as his other thumb strokes down and begin to rub over your clitorus in a rapid manner. “forget that ‘m going away… just focus on me, hun. you cum for me and i’ll cum in you… promise.”
and you listened to him… cause jason never broke his promises to you! especially when you feel him cum in you no less than three minutes later!
INSPIRED BY: this post by @/starr-jazz! (haven’t watched a knight of seven kingdoms but dear god, finn bennett in knight armor is doing sum to me)
masterlist is here! click here for more!
ⓘ KENTLUV3R’S WORK. all my fanfics (not the characters) is my very own, coming from my own efforts and my time. do not copy my work, rewrite it, shove it through an ai machine and shit out slop, and don’t repost to wattpad/ao3/c.ai!
𑣲⋆LOVERBOY! JASON TODD... who completely loses all his bones the second the apartment door clicks shut. for a guy who spends his nights dodging gunfire and playing the tough guy, he turns into pure liquid muscle on your couch. he will collapse his entire upper body across your lap, burying his nose into your waist with a heavy, shuddering sigh that practically shakes his whole 220lb frame just to let the stress bleed out.
𑣲⋆LOVERBOY! JASON TODD... who is an absolute nightmare to literally everyone else in gotham, but turns into a complete marshmallow the second you’re in the room. he’ll spend his entire afternoon barkin’ orders, snapping at tim, throwing sarcastic insults at people, and scowling like he hates the entire world. but the moment you walk through the door? his whole posture softens, his jaw unclenches, and he’s pulling you onto his lap before he even finishes his sentence.
→ His family genuinely does not know how to react to seeing a guy who normally looks like he wants to punch a wall softly nuzzling his face into your hair and whispering sweet nothings like he wasn’t just screaming two minutes ago.
𑣲⋆LOVERBOY! JASON TODD... who treats you like you’re made of spun glass. he’s got massive, calloused, scarred hands, but the way he holds you is absurdly soft. he loves resting a heavy palm on the back of your neck or softly thumbing over your bottom lip while he’s distracted.
𑣲⋆LOVERBOY! JASON TODD… who is an absolute menace for press-and-hold kisses—soft, lingering presses into the crook of your elbow, your shoulder blades, and right behind your ear where he knows it makes you shiver.
𑣲⋆LOVERBOY! JASON TODD... who displays affection in the most quiet, domestic ways imaginable. he’ll spend hours sitting on the edge of the bed going on long, passionate rants about whatever classic literature he’s reading that week, his eyes lighting up while he explains every character arc to you.
→ he’ll also hand-craft custom leather bookmarks for you, carefully stamping your initials into them or burning little designs into the corner just so you have something special for your own books. he remembers every little detail about your routine—always making sure your favorite tea is stocked, pulling the covers over you when you fall asleep on the couch, and leaving tiny, messy love notes tucked into your jacket pockets before he goes out on patrol.
𑣲⋆LOVERBOY! JASON TODD... whose dates are a seamless mix of domesticity and ridiculously thoughtful effort. he’s not taking you to some uptight, five-star restaurant where he has to wear a stiff suit and fake a smile; he’d much rather take you to a tiny, hole-in-the-wall diner at 2:00 AM, sitting in a vinyl booth and sharing a plate of fries while you both talk about nothing. or he’ll plan late-night rooftop dates with a heavy fleece blanket, hot coffee in thermos cups, and a quiet view of the city skyline, keeping his arm wrapped tight around your waist so the cold wind doesn't even touch you.
𑣲⋆LOVERBOY! JASON TODD... who is a total whiny submissive for you behind closed doors. all that red hood arrogance completely evaporates the second you tease him or make him wait. if you hold back or drag your fingers along his skin without touching him where he wants, he turns into the whiniest man on the planet. he’ll bury his face in your neck, whimpering softly, pulling on your waist, and begging you to just give in.
𑣲⋆LOVERBOY! JASON TODD... who melts the second you take control. you can pin his wrists above his head—even though he could easily overpower you—and he will just go completely pliable and soft into the mattress. his eyes get dark and glassy, his breath hitched, softly pleading with you, “please... tell me what you want me to do.” he is so embarrassingly praise-hungry that running a hand through his hair and whispering a soft “good boy” against his ear will literally send him over the edge, leaving him clingy and helpless for the rest of the night.
𑣲⋆LOVERBOY! JASON TODD... takes loving you so seriously it’s almost stupid. he will send single-word replies to bruce and dick, but sends you three-paragraph rants about a book he’s reading or petty complaints about anyone other than you. he leaves his softest oversized hoodies at your place on purpose just to see you drowning in them while making coffee. he’s a man so deeply in love with you that he doesn't even know what to do with himself, and he’ll never let a second go by without making sure you know it.
A/n never falling for the “Jason is rough” propaganda. He is the most submissive, whiny, and pathetic man ever I said what I said.
gummygunk
prguitarman
dailybridgerton
ellievsbear
