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jjk twitter prn links!! ft. toji, sukuna & choso
masterlist
-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-
he’s fuckin hunggg ft. sukuna
he’s always down for u to sit on his face ft. boyfriend!choso
pussy & ass spanks till ur red! ft. toji
slow touches after sex ft. all of them tbh
more slapping lol ft. toji
invite him over n it’ll lead to this ft. boyfriend!choso
human pussy is the best!! 😫😫 ft. virgin!choso
sucking his finger whilst he chokes u ft. choso
he’s js so big 😣😖 ft. toji
feelin domestic lowk ft. husband!toji
this is SO sukuna ft. sukuna obvs lol
he dwarfs u so bad ft. sukuna & toji
© WHISPER 2K24 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
hate sex with arkham knight!jason
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he’s so mean and mocking, has you pinned to the wall, hand shackling your neck, your head getting fuzzy and your vision going blue.
feels like ur on a drug, chasing that high more and more with each thrust he gives you. he’s got this sexy half-smile half-smirk thing going on, and he’s sweating so much, it slicks his hair back and makes his curls wet with it’s salty sheen: sharp glisten as they bounce up and down every time he moves.
you can barely get a word out, feel the sentence bubble up in your throat for what feels like hours before you finally manage to hear it vocalise and ring in your ears, each word cut off by a hiccup and jason’s still so cocky and mean but also tender, wipes the corners of your eyes, likes to see the mascara smear on your face and his thumb, before cradling your face and shutting you up with a kiss. lips soon swollen and eyes wanton.
“you talk too much.” he’d simply say to ur desperately and pathetically feeble attempt at dismissing the eye rolling feeling of his dick so deep inside fucking you so good rn.
before you manage to say anything he shushes you and puts a hand over your mouth, “thereee. that’s betterrr.” he’d coo, feeling you drool from the inside of his palm.
“fuckin’ horny bitch. didn’t realise you wanted to be fucked this bad.”
he kisses your cheek. barely sucks the flesh when he lets go. “jesus fucking christ. god, look at what you’re doing to me—fuck.”
his forehead leans against yours, his voice now quiet and whispery, sounds almost like a whistle, “wish you’d said something earlier. telling me i could’ve fucked you months ago?”
you give in, eyebrows crease and u nod your head with a muffled cry. he laughs, mimics your nod and says through a broken chuckle, “yeah? i could’ve? tell me i could’ve, baby. tell me i fucking could’ve.” he removes his hand. waits for your response, though his hips don’t stop.
he gets impatient, watches at how you look down shamefully, slaps your face a little to get you to look at him, “come on.”
miserably and moaning you bite your lip—a sort of nervous panic and tell him what he wants to hear, “you could’ve fucked me forever ago. anytime you wanted.”
he gets so hard. like, way harder than he already is and he connects your lips again, both pleased and amused then compliments you so sincerely, almost to himself, “so fucking fine.”
© WHISPER 2K24 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
𑊡˚+₊🕸️✦ — SPIDER-MAN KISS + miguel; drabble
cw: nsfw, smut, one night stand??, oral (f receiving), softdom!miguel, afab!reader
-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-
spider-man kiss with miguel!! except it leads to him getting handsy quick and no one’s around anyway so why not? he backs you up against a wall and lets his hand melt into the dip of your back finding soft sanctuary there. the ridges of his mask don’t pull up any further past his nose so you can’t even see who’s nueva york’s best kisser. you take his hands and lead them to the slit of space your skirt creates, grazing the topside of your pussy ever so slightly. he gasps a little softly; startled and quickly removes his hands to return to your back’s slope, yet you reassure him with a nod: “it’s okay.”
desperate: he continues doughing at the plushness of your flesh, dragging down slowly from your back, to your waist, down to your hips and finally cupping your ass. he’s on his knees now, his strength the reason why the gravel digging into his kneecaps doesn’t bother him. and then he looks up. you wished you could attach a face to the plump lips and chiselled jaw that stroked against your skin so gracefully. “what’s your name?” you ask innocently. he stays looking at you— at least that’s what you think, and presses firm kisses on your thighs hiking further and further up to the dark shadow between your legs.
“what’s yours?” his slightly accented voice intrigues.
“i asked you first.” you tease sweetly, wanting to see where this was going. you spot a growing smile on his tan face: one that elongates a little when he presses another open-mouthed kiss near your core.
“don’t play that game with me.” he stays smiling.
through your underwear, he starts licking up at your entrance; kitten ones at first and your sweet moan graces his ears erotically; they almost prick up like an animal’s at this. his tongue presses further into the thin cotton that protects you from the outside world. his mouth sounds full and voice compromised when he groans: “you’re the sexiest girl i’ve ever seen.” he delves in more.
“eat me out properly then.” you whine, needy for more.
his easy chuckle sends soft flutters of air to your pussy that ignite a flame. “tell me your name.” he goads.
“y/n.” you comply him with, almost instantly.
this makes him stay smiling and he pulls down your underwear before repeating the name back to himself: “y/n.” he tests, dragging out the final syllable. “that’s a pretty name. i like it.” you can only moan at the anticipated contact of his tongue connecting with your folds. “shouldn’t be walking this late out on your own, y/n.” he kisses softly— wetly. “it’s dangerous.” you attempt to move your hips a little but it’s a struggle, spider-man’s got you locked in a vice right now.
“thank you for saving me.” you say.
he always liked it when people thanked him for saving them. he just liked knowing that some people still had manners, still knew that despite it being his job, despite him being spider-man, it was the polite thing to do. he basks in your warmth and scent, an escape from the prickly december air and speaks one sound.
“miguel.”
belated bday kisses with eiji + [2.4k wc]
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you had gotten up extra early today. wanted to surprise your sleepy boyfriend with breakfast in bed since he'd practically spoil you every other day. you gently slither out of his grasp, his arm slung loosley by your waist, belting you in his embrace. slowly, ever so slowly, you move out of the cozy warmth.
his mouth is slightly agape, you can hear his light breathing and you steal one last glance at him, adoring the way the sun's glow curves and bends around his tan face. his summer freckles fading now in the october air.
you smile to yourself, watch him unconciously shift and tap at your abscence. you slip away before your lack of prescence rouses him.
your suck your teeth at the cold kitchen floor your bare feet meet, shiny and cool.
you were going to make him heart-shaped pancakes. warm and fluffy. you begin by searching the cabinets for the ingredients, careful not to be too loud. eggs, milk, butter, sugar, strawberries you'll be sure to wash and slice into lovehearts too—the obvious. then tap and feel around for the maple syrup.
it was in the back in the top cabinet where everything was too high for you. on your tip-toes, you reach up, stretch your arm to its full length. fingers taut as they touch at nothing.
"need some help?" a familiar voice sounds behind you. deep and groggy—morning voice.
you almost flinch at the voice, so focused on the task at hand that you didn't even hear his heavy footsteps. your hands drop and your caught face shifts into a grin as you walk hurriedly towards him, arms wide as you hug him, chest flush against his bare one.
"happy birthday, baby!" you glee, voice excited and loving. his cheek is warm against your lips as you smack a loud kiss there. his sleepy eyes crease when he returns your soft smile.
his toned arms belt around your waist again like his sleepy self did and he speaks into your messy bedhead, "thank you, pretty."
you playfully push his chest, "go back to bed! i'll be done in fifteen minutes.”
"why? what are you making?" he teases.
"nope! back to bed! off you go!" and push him back to your cool bedroom, now bathed in the morning light with the blinds pulled high. he complies and lets you move his body, crawls back into bed without you, arm now propped up on his knee.
"fifteen minutes." you tap at his nose, and leave without another word.
you decide to clamber and climb atop the countertop to reach the maple syrup. halfway consumed, mostly by kirishima.
soon the kitchen island is decorated with all the equipment you need, the baby pink ones kiri bought for you after you showed him some really cute stuff nara smith had on your phone.
your hands become sticky with the strawberry juice trailing down your wrists as you carefully cut them into deliberate shapes. kirishima hums to himself as the familiar smell of the fruit layered with the pancakes hits his nose.
you plate everything and are sure to pour him and yourself each some jasmine tea, both of your favourite.
a little over fifteen minutes passes before kiri puts his phone down and away when you walk in, hands slightly shaky by each side of the breakfast tray from the collective weight as you place it gently on the duvet.
"voila," you say, proud of your efforts.
"oh wow, baby. is this for me?" he says, almost coy.
"of course," you sit down next to him, the strap of your tank top slipping off your shoulder, he picks it up for you, a gentleman after all. you smile at the gesture as you continue talking, "who else would it be for?"
the smile he offers you is deep and genuine, his dimple appearing.
"and the hearts?" he cups your face, "you're so cute."
you scrunch your nose and lean into his brief touch. he picks up the heart engraved cutlery you put on either side of the cream plate before you cut his action off, "wait! i almost forgot," you giggle sneakily.
you leave the room, and kiri's eyebrows crease in curiosity. he can hear you rustling around, scrounging the place for whatever it was that you were retrieving before the noise stops and you come back within a short minute.
your hands are behind your back before you surprise him suddenly, "ta da!" you sing.
clutched between your slender fingers is a yellow baggie with furry green nugs that kirishima's all too familiar with, "hanta?" he asks, light chuckle breaking up his question.
"hanta and denki! they said it was their birthday present for you." you pounce up on him, bag rustling in your grasp. "well, yeah. you're right, it was originally hanta's present. denki asked me to say it was from him too." you say defeatedly, "don't tell him i told you that."
"roger that," he salutes.
you lean over to the bedside table to grab your grinder and kirishima watches your movements, reaps the way your shorts ride up on your ass, is already excited for the sex today.
you catch him staring at you and feel the way his hand curves around your upper thigh, you blush and put your hand over his, point towards his plate with your other hand holding the bag and and grinder, "come on, eat up. it's gonna get cold!"
"alright, alright," he says calmly, removes his hand from your body.
he moans when he takes a bite, chews it slowly, savouring its flavour. "holy shit, this is delicious, baby! thank you."
"you're welcome," you say sincerely, happy with his enjoyment.
he takes another bite and through his mouthful speaks, "how much is that? he tell you?" he piques.
"um, i think he said it was a half a zip or something?"
he continues with his food, chuckling softly, "my guy," he says thoughtfully.
you fiddle with the papers and try to roll the joint tightly—unconfident. kiri glances at your struggling motion before he takes another bite, "want me to roll it?"
"no, i can do it!" you protest. try again, but watch it fall apart over your tray. "ughhh," you look up at the ceiling annoyed.
he smoothly moves his half eaten plate of food away near his hips and you let him take over, the manoeuvre easy for him.
you sigh as you watch him neatly roll the thing with little effort, like he was almost doing it thoughtlessly. you eye and grab the fork and knife on the table, cut the bottom of the second heart pancake off before feeding the triangle to eijiro. he smiles as he chews, eyes focused on the joint before he swallows and licks the adhesive.
you feel warm watching the action, pink muscle slicking the paper before he lifts his head and twists the top.
"another one?"
"up to you, birthday boy," you sigh contently.
he nods and puts the j behind his ear. rolls another. god, he looked so good like this. when his eyes were still small with sleep and voice deep from the same.
he taps and feels around the drawer for a lighter, succeeds and sparks up. your head lulls at the sound he makes when he sucks his teeth and exhales. he tokes again, doesn't inhale all the way and brings his hand behind your neck, your face already hot from what's about to happen.
his lips meet yours and he breathes out into you, it already hitting you—strong shit.
you exhale through your nose, not letting him pull back as you grab and rake your fingers through his hair, tongue deep in his mouth. he smiles and sucks on your bottom lip, bites it softly before placing the burning joint between your lips. hears you suck and pulls it away.
you eskimo kiss him and playfully breathe out in his face. he shuts his eyes, feels the smoke tickle his face before coolly handing you the jay.
"you still have to finish your breakfast..." you say softly, gently bite the fork, "open wide," you’re aware of the innuendo. and he complies, has you feed him another mouthful, his eyes don't move from yours.
you chew at your bottom lip slightly, cut another piece then slowly bring the glossy strawberry and sweet pancake to eijirou’s lips.
he grabs your hand before you can feed him, and he pushes the fork into your own mouth. you let the juices tingle on your tongue, stretch your jaw to chew your bite.
his hand is still clasped around yours, and the fork’s throngs hang on your lips. he watches your mouth move as you enjoy your creation, eyes honed in on the plumpness of your lips.
“how’s it taste, baby?” he asks, voice warm. pulsating. sexy.
you nod, then swallow. “so good.” you widen your eyes, make them look all glassy and doe-like. innocent even.
his teeth show in the smirk he gives you. hand unclasps your own then lets his thumb brush your bottom lip. pull it down a little bit. then smoothly slide under your ear so his fingers reach your nape and his face is pressed into yours in a kiss.
you moan softly. desire boiling inside you. love the feeling of his large hands supporting your head, massage your roots. you speak between kisses, “touch me later.” you breathe, “i wanna put on this lingerie i bought for you.”
“but i wanna fuck you now…” he whispers wantonly
you giggle, feel his tongue in your mouth. pull away and watch his eyes stay staring at your lips, begging to be drawn in.
“i know you do.” his lips reach for your jaw. then your neck, “but it’ll be so much more fun later…” your smaller hand rests atop his that cradles your face.
you feel him suck, then bite. nibble at your skin and kiss the bruise he leaves. his voices prickles your ear, hot and wanton like before.
his lips graze the outer shell as he speaks, “let me at least eat you out,” he gently reaches for your throat, “sit on my face,” he says before kissing your jaw and slipping the jay between your lips again. watches you suck then blow.
you feel his hand drop from your face and reach down for your pussy, already slick with your arousal. he fingers your over the thin cloth of your thong. slow and patient.
you let your jaw go slack at the feeling, feel eijirou’s words echo again, “come on. it’s my birthday, right?”
you laugh, all breathy and flustered, “shut up.”
“make me. tongue will be all up in you, baby.”
you withdraw from his grasp on your throat, smile at him and look into his wet eyes, pupils blown wide so there’s only a thin ring of red.
he scratches and massages the hair by your ear and you hum lightly. pleasant feeling buzzing around you.
soon, eijiro slides the breakfast tray off the bed and onto the bedside table, tokes the joint a last time before letting it burn out, then dips down and kisses your stomach.
then lower. and lower, till finally his lips meet where he’s been begging for them to.
you lift your hips and he kisses you through the fabric, easily slides you on top of him, breathing cut off but he doesn’t care.
he laps at the soft cotton. feels it getting wetter by the second and you bite your lip and rock your hips forward, letting his noise brush up where you need it to.
he hooks a finger under the thin lacy straps and pulls down, you adjust yourself and help him take off your underwear. when you sink back on him he instantly goes full speed. no slow movement at the start like he usually does but a rapid moment with his pink muscle reaching inside you.
your head is woozy and your body feels funny, the weed definitely not helping (or maybe it was?) and you let your voice sing. moan out everything.
you feel him so close to your core. warmth pooling in your stomach in such a way it has you calling his name in that way that he goes crazy over.
he swears there isn’t anything more sexy than hearing you say his name like that. it’s similar to the way you do when you touch yourself on facetime with him. but nothing could comes close to the way it sounded in real life and not some buzzy speaker.
he’s so passionate with the way he eats you up. passionate and on a frenzy. strokes your thighs up down. scraps your skin with his nails when your knuckles are desperately grabbing at his red locks.
you feel yourself getting closer. that mean tightness coming undone. slowly start to grind yourself on top of him rhythmically.
he suckles at your clit, doesn’t let go and leans in when it’s almost too much for you and you try to lift yourself completely off from him. but it’s no use. he’s completely latched onto you.
he would stay like this forever if he could. airflow barely existing. hands all over you. mouth sucking on nectar. his idea of heaven: you.
it was ironic how good he was treating you on his birthday but that’s what made him so perfect. always so thoughtful and doting on you in a way that’s almost fantastical. something you’d only read in fairytales.
“eijirou…” you desperately moan in that way he loves. voice all high and sexy.
he wraps his arms over your thighs, gluing you to him. he could feel you twitching. getting all wet and feeling you running down his chin.
till finally, your whole body gets hot and buzzes. lip caught between you teeth as you pull at his tufts.
you look down at him with an open mouth that breaks into a smile. you feel insanely good, and have to let out that cutesy little giggle you always did whenever he made you finish.
you move yourself off of him, him giving your pussy own final kiss before you plant yourself over his pelvis and straddle him like this.
your smile is wide when you reach down to his face, his hand is behind you neck and already caressing you, “i’m gonna fuck you so good later.” his lips are barely a few inches away from yours before he pulls you down and kisses you.
your lips stay interlocked when he lifts his back from the bed and has it flush with the headboard, hands planted on your hips. you taste yourself and the strawberries on him. sweet and fervent, tongues partnered.
© WHISPER 2K24 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
giving katsuki a massage! + [1.6k wc]
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he’s sat by his oaky desk, shiny finish decked high with towers of books. his back congruent with the soft cushioning of his chair. black-rimmed glasses tipping of his nose as his laptop’s screen burns into his pupils. twenty or so tabs open, completely organised in his eyes, and the click clackity click of his keyboard. a hum that’s been prolonged for hours.
you get up from your comfortable place in his bed, leaving the snuggly warmth your body had adjusted itself to and move behind katsuki, peering over his shoulder to see what exactly he was working on.
he’d told you it was the latest assignment aizawa had set out and, against your better judgement, rather than set out to finish it promptly like a good student, you procrastinated and wandered into your boyfriend’s dormitory 'by accident’ so you say and found yourself already eased by his presence.
though you did have to beg him to let you in.
“you’re gonna distract me.” is what he said, his reading glasses already on and arms crossed.
but you argued and pleaded with him, “no, katsuki, i won’t! please, just let me stay. i’ll be on my phone the whole time, you won’t even know i’m there.”
but he wanted to know you were there he thought. he stared at you for a minute. pondered on whether or not this was a good idea. and he knew it wasn’t. he knew that.
but then you brought your hand up to his, pinkie finger stuck out and said in that cutesy voice of yours, ‘promise.’
he glanced at it, eyes meeting yours then your little finger again and his tough facade cracked with a sigh, not long before he locked his pinkie with your own then smoothly brought your hand closer and laced his fingers with yours, squeezing firmly and affirming a soft, “promise.” the word having a light airy feel on your knuckles as he brought his lips to your hand.
so now, two hours later, katsuki still very much locked in on the task at hand you decided enough was enough.
your careful eyes watch the words he types. aloud, you read the passage he’s just completed, “and thus agrarian economies shifted to industrial productions ultimately redefining labor dynamics within an early britain still used to traditional artisan roles.” you look down at him, still as ever, almost as if waiting for your verdict.
“feels like a good place to call it, kats. the end?”
he shakes his head, answers without looking back at you and continues typing, slightly adjusting the wording so it sounds smoother. “nah. still needs another paragraph.”
“katsuki, your paragraphs are like 50 lines long!” you complain, slight whine in your tone. he didn’t like when you did that.
“well that’s what a paragraph is.” he moves his head to the side so you can hear him better.
“no, it’s not!”
he deletes a few words and types again, reworking the sentence.
“and so, agrarian economies moved to industrial production, redefining labor dynamics in early britain still familiar with traditional artisan roles.” he mutters, rereading it to himself to test it’s fluency, see if it sounds the way he wants it to.
“baby, you need a break.” your words are laced with genuine concern. “look at how tense your shoulders are.” you bring your hands to them and immediately he relaxes, your touch alleviating him.
you take this as an opportunity to run your fingers through his hair, deep pulls of tufts from the roots at his scalp to the very tips. he leans into your touch, groans quietly as you knead and massage his head, something very much needed, but then he remembers he’s still got this paper due and forcibly shocks himself up.
“promised me you weren’t gonna be a distraction.” he says firmly, hands gently pulling your own away from his hair.
“did i?” you playfully remark, squint your eyes a bit. you bend your knees and bring yourself to his level, paw at his hair once more and rake it behind his ear. his side profile was so handsome, jaw sharp and clenched.
“why don’t you take five and chill with me for a bit? maybe i can give you a massage, okay?” you kiss below his ear and watch his jaw loosen slightly. not as tight nor as tense.
“i’m gonna need more than five. especially if you’re gonna give me a massage,” he finally breaks, giving you that eye contact that made the butterflies in your tummy flutter at long last.
you giggle, “exactly!”
you sweeten your tone, drawl your vowels, “come on, please?”
he knows what you’re doing and it’s working. he smiles in a ‘you’ve got me, hands up’ sort of way and (falsely) begrudgingly turns his chair to face you with said smile.
you pull him up easily and he lets you drag him to his bed. happily flop down on it.
his hand finds its place on your thigh, the other by the dip of your waist. you enjoy the feeling. how firm his hold was and yet still ever so careful, like he was only focusing on you and how small you were in his large hands.
soon you lift your hands and cross them at the wrists behind katsuki’s neck, keep a close proximity between your noses. “lie down,” you simply say, quickly eyeing the mattress, crimson cover pulled tightly over it, very katsuki-esque.
defeated, he obliges. lets his chest meet the bed and stretches his long legs out, you kneeling to the side to make room.
once he’s finally sprawled out, you let your pelvis sit atop his, “sorry if i’m too heavy.”
he laughs heartily, the one that always makes your heart melt and you weak in the knees, “oh, shut up.” his sentence rumbles with the buzz of his laughter to which you offer him a soft smile, despite the fact that he can’t see your face.
“mmm, can you tell me where you feel the most tightness?” you ask politely.
he hums, then gestures to his upper back, around his shoulder blades, that sort of general area. “it’s mostly just my shoulders like you said. and a bit down here too.” he hovers his hand over where your knees rest on opposite sides of his waist.
without saying anything, you quickly start. first spreading your hands over the tight muscle by his shoulders repeatedly. you know you’re doing a good job when you hear katsuki’s relieved groans. letting out all that pressure and stress that’s built up in his body.
your hands slowly drag down the form of his body, thumbs kneading in on his lower back. again, another groan sounds from katsuki’s lips. “ahh, just like that, baby.”
you blush, thinking of the many times that sentence has been uttered in a very different context but you enjoy making your boyfriend feel good in any way. enjoy how his breathing becomes deeper the more you move your hands.
“it’ll feel better if you take your shirt off,” you suggest.
“mmm, yeah…" he nods, "yeah, you’re probably right.” he gets up and you slide off him easily. watch him coolly tug the black cotton material over his head, eyes glaze over when you see his taut body underneath, finally unveiled.
katsuki flops back into the mattress face down as soon as he chucks the fitted tee away, he’s clearly enjoying his break.
you chuckle, “didn’t i tell you? you should’ve stopped over an hour ago,” you step back over him so your pelvises are connected again.
he grabs your thigh, face still deep into the mattress so his voice is muffled, “i know, you’re right, baby. ya always are.” your cheeks grow warm at the sincerity of his tone.
you repeat your massaging motions with your soft hands, feel the vibration of his moans through his flesh before bringing your lips close to between his shoulder blades. “awh, baby,” he says, “gotta pay you back for this somehow. maybe i’ll marry ya after we graduate.”
“yeah? that a fact?” you tease.
“yup.” he rubs his hand up and down over your leg. “can take your last name or you can have mine. whichever you prefer.”
“hmm. hyphenate?”
“your choice, darling.”
you sigh contently, “always love when you call me that,” you say quietly as you continue pressing into his tender tissue.
“i’ll call you it more often then,” his hand slips down and easily wraps round your ankle, his thumb rolls circles into the bone as his fingers clasp against the slight dip in your foot.
“you mind getting up so i can kiss you?”
you giggle, “nope,” holding your ground.
he moves from underneath you anyway and quickly grabs you before you can run away. “come here, you,” he playfully grunts.
your laugh is melodious in his ears, he’d do anything to hear more of it. his favourite sound. among others.
he cups your face before you can escape and kisses you passionately. you grab at his wrists, smile still lifting your cheeks and stretching the skin around your eyes taut.
it’s heated at first but then slows into something more intimate and raw, almost innocent. he then pulls away from your lips and plasters smooches all over your face. each kiss louder than the last as you simper each time.
when he stops, he’s still holding your face. his eyes watching how the highlights in yours grows, iris thin in how full the pupils are, he sees his own reflection in them and your pretty smile.
“i love you.” he says, unabashedly.
you lean into his touch, kiss his palm, “i love you, too.” your small hand over his much larger one holding your cheeks. “let’s go to sleep?” you ask, looking at him through your lashes.
his smile is sweet when he strokes the skin by your eye for no particular reason other than to just feel more of you, “yeah.” kisses you there. “let’s go to sleep.”
© WHISPER 2K24 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
sickly sweet romance of u & jay
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“jay,” you softly say.
your legs are stretched long on the soft beige duvet cover, blanket pulled up to jason’s chest, it riding just by your waist with you sat up straight. you look out the window, prickly raindrops sound as they hit the double panned glass, moonlight bathing your skin blue.
he’s breathing softly, body facing you so you watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest as his eyes stay shut in rest. he doesn’t hear you yet the sleepy sight of him makes you warm inside: hot and in love. you bite the inner part of your bottom lip and rake your fingers through his hair so to rouse him, he always did like when you did that. “jason.” you whisper shout, a little more playful than before and stroke his jawline quickly from ear to chin.
“mm?” he monosyllabically hums, still half-asleep. his mouth hardly moves but his eyebrows curiously wrinkle.
you drop down to his level and watch him like a puppy, eyes big and pupils wide, you just have to kiss his nose. “come on, baby. wake upp,” you slightly whine.
he doesn’t answer but smacks his lips a little and his entire expression creases briefly then reverts back to his sleepy, frozen self. he reaches for your face, feels around to grab your cheek since he refuses to open his eyes and awake from sleep, and cups your cheek. you smile, knowing this was his way of letting you know he was listening, even if he maybe wasn’t. you kiss his inner palm: the fatty part below his thumb— peck his wrist and then slide on top of him, kissing his cheek and his temple and near his eyes and by his jaw but not his lips, not yet.
with each kiss jason gains a little bit more consciousness, a little more happier and charmed by your excessive showering of affection he so tenderly loves. he groans, breathes out deeply and plants his hands on your hips, eyes squinting open, “alright. you’ve got my attention now.” he announces.
you smile and giggle, “so you’ll only listen to me if i’m kissing you?” your laugh reverberates through the thin cotton of your top into jason’s chest—deep in his bones, with your hearts only layers of skin, flesh and muscle away from touching.
he shakes the insinuation off, “nah baby, it’s not even like that.” he wraps his arms around your waist, belts them up real tight and pulls you in—hugs and rests in the little crook of your neck, breathes in the foggy remnants of today’s earlier perfume, kisses your cheek. loud smooch. “just tired.” he stays nestled in that tiny space by your neck.
you pout. want to whine at the fact that jay’s defo not gonna wake up and you’ll have to go do something on your own. you get that sleep is important to him and whatever it is that he does that requires him to come home absurdly late smelling a lot like blood and cigarettes but still it was only midnight on a friday, basically 8pm on any other day.
“you smell nice,” his lips tickle your neck and you shyly half-smile at the compliment.
“thank you.” softly you say.
“why you still up? you ain’t tired yet?” he asks, lips tickling your neck more.
“jason,” you whine a bit, roll your eyes too, even in the thick bluey darkness, “it’s only midnight. i’m surprised you even went to bed.”
“i’m tired, honey.” he rubs his face into your crook like a sleepy child, “and it was a slow night tonight. figured i deserved a break.” you can feel him slightly move his hands whilst he talks, nod a small yes to yourself even though you still weren’t quite sure what it was that he did.
“i still don’t really get what your job is.” you state, wanting him to elaborate.
he strokes your hair and gently says, “later, baby. later.”
you pout.
“don’t pout.”
you drop your jaw and pull back to see his face, “how’d you know i was doing that?”
“cuz i know my girl.” you smile down bashfully: sincerely. he picks your head up by kissing you. sweetly at first but, like always, a little nippy and sort of wild.
he pulls away before anything escalates and his voice sort of drops to this low, honeyed kind of hum, “you know i trust you with my life, right?” he cups your face.
you smile and hold the hand that’s on your cheek and kiss it as confirmation, “and you with mine.” you retaliate, a little hopeful for if he’ll finally share his secret with you. he rubs his thumb, a soft movement on your cheekbone.
“the shit i do—what i do…it’s not safe or i guess you could say, not conventional.” he searches between your eyes for any sort of understanding, hoping you get his meaning.
“i figured.” you calmly respond. “so what is it?” you push him.
he sighs. or maybe groans. whatever it was, he quickly looks down with such a look of torn you’d never seen. it makes you worry a bit—startle you. you had prepared for the worst: hitman, supplier, even a villain’s ally, training yourself to being accepting given if it were someone with fairer moral value. maybe someone like poison ivy or…
“red hood.” he dissyllabically says, with no real discernible tone, though he looks straight ahead at you and stares.
“is…” you wanna ask him if that’s who he works for but if there’s anything the people of gotham know, it’s that the red hood works alone. so you swallow that obsolete question and instead present with: “i kind of already knew.”
he looks up at you, wide eyed and ready to hear more.
“well i didn’t know know, i just knew that it was something ‘unconventional’. i was pretty convinced you were a hitman, it always made sense to me that’d if given the opportunity you’d be a good shot.” you flirt sweetly but still genuine. jay smiles softly, his eyes grow curious, his head somewhat tilted.
“what gave it away?”
you point at the few bits of dirty laundry behind him thrown over a chair, “you come in with a lot of blood.”
his mouth forms an ‘o’ shape and he even makes the expressions the brows as if he’s said it, but no sound comes out.
you see it as an opportunity to kiss him, gently let him know you’re still there, and to not let him drift off into despair. “i’m glad you told me.
he takes your hand and places it flat on his chest, palm desperately close to his heart: it drums. “thought you’d dump me.”
you smile and kiss his nose, “not a chance.”
a silence briefly erupts and the two of you just stare at each other, moonlight glazing each one of your doubled reflections in the other’s pair of eyes: an utter warmth of transparency and trust and bond that’ll never grow old.
“i…” you start, jason’s ears immediately prick up, attentive to hear anything you’ll say. “are you still sleepy?”
benignly: “less now.” he pauses, “why? what do you wanna do?”
“just talk,” the duvet cover’s fabric echoes as you move to slide your arm down, propping yourself up with your upright elbow, chin in palm. “tell me about one of your days.” you slowly blink, madly in love.
“when i’m out fighting?” he asks, heart swelling at how loving you’re being, someday he’ll marry you he thinks.
“anything.” you slow, gentle voice lulls.
his thumb trills your knuckles back and forth before he begins: “alright.”
© WHISPER 2K24 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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imagining plug!connie throat fucking you whilst taking fat hits from his freshly pearled blunt. the occasional sucking teeth noise that would sound above you as your hair bounced up and down drove you insane. you'd hate it whenever he smoked without you, and now he's just dangling it in front of your face, a wicked carrot-and-stick approach. chris travis' psychedelic funk drumming mercilessly in the background as soft accompaniment. his voice finally cracks: a higher, louder whine rather than the masculine groans he's kept himself restrained to.
"this throat's fucking trained. who you been suckin' off, pretty?" he says through plump, bitten lips, teeth bright in that eager smile plastered on his cocky face, his star tooth gems flashing brightly on his canines. he takes another hit and pulls you off his hard dick, bringing the half-smoked blunt to your lips. you take a pleased pull all the while staring up at him with bright, feigned innocent eyes, lost in his. you giggle with the fatness between your lips and then, finally, he takes it from between your lips, lets you suck your teeth to inhale and, blow.
he kisses at the sight of you, "cuz you deserve it, baby," then thumbs open your mouth, pre-cum glossed on your lips, and slips himself back in, balls heavy with anticipatory release.
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NOW PLAYING: Overtime • Bryson Tiller
flirting with plug!connie at a gathering where everyone’s off in their little pairs or groups doing their own little things and here you were sitting knees-up on the alcove window with your cheeks hurting from how much you smile. you bounce your finger up and down on connie’s new era’s cap, tracing the brim and then the thick embroidered NY.
“are you gonna make me ask?” you say light-heartedly.
he puts his hands up defensively, “ay, my bad, my bad…” then swiftly brings the brim down, the cap lifting from his head, and placing it on yours, cheekily pushing it down so that it would angle down over your eyes.
you let a amused breath out before fixing it.
he can only stare at how pretty you look. so so hot. lord only knows what he’d do if it were just the two of you alone right now. so instead, he lightly strokes your calf up and down, so modest with his touch, careful not to indulge. it’s hard not to.
you look down and watch the action briefly, knowing that he was still starting at you, his hot gaze unwavering. you finally look up, shake your head a little to move some hair away from your front. you fail and he moves it over your shoulder for you, licking his lips as he does so.
“thank you.” you hum, head tilted down slightly, small pretty smile gracing your lips.
he copies your smile, “you’re welcome, shorty.”
he’s careful with his rubbing fingers, now making it his rubbing hand, hiking up to underneath your knee, just barely.
you take the brim of his cap and place it backwards on your head. his pupils explode, two full black circles in his eyes as he watches your every movement with so much lust.
you sit up on your knees so that your feet cushion your ass and slowly you lean in. a soft kiss at first, the brief let go, and then the deep inhale as you both indulge in the other. the space between his thumb and fingers coming to slot underneath your ear and rest at the base of your head.
you break apart and smile softly, biting your lip a little. “you wanna go to sasha’s room?”
he smiles, looks at your lips quickly then back to your eyes, darting between them, “lead the way.”
you get up and take his hand. how much bigger and calloused it was against your own, two cool bands around his index and ring fingers. he follows behind as you lead him to sasha’s bedroom, instantly making out again when connie pushes your back against the door to shut it. and so the night went on…
