Mission Wetwork(?) All I Could Think About Was Emerging From The Water And A Lilly Pad On Price Instead

So, uh I sorta try to do a edit(?) İts my first time so sorry if you didn’t like it? İs anybody have any idea where i can do good edits?

When somebody say your NOTP is canon

progression | aventurine blurb

loving aventurine was as easy as breathing to you, something incredibly hard for him to grasp. he didn't get it at all. when he first walked into your life, he had this arrogant mask up, another one of his well preserved fabrications to protect himself. he was snarky to you. not necessarily rude, but he wasn't afraid to bare his fangs and show you that he was capable of hurting you if he needed to. he wasn't afraid of hurting anyone. another gamble he was putting his faith in, that he wouldn't be put in a situation where he would have to hurt you.

you loved him during that stage. every sarcastic 'friend' he tacked on to every sentence like it was more of an insult than anything else, every boundary that he crossed of yours, every little lie he spun to keep you at arms length, trying to protect you from his teeth. words hurt less than his bite. and yet, you were there for him even when he was sure he would have pushed you away, and it unnerved him.

" aventurine ~ " you called out from behind him to get his attention, before lightly jogging up to him, standing by his side. not in front of him, but beside him. " i know you might be busy today with business as usual, but i was hoping that you were free this afternoon ? there's this new coffee shop that opened up, and i though- "

" coffee ? sorry to disappoint you, friend, but i am busy this afternoon, " he shook his head, as if dismissing the idea outright entirely.

" oh, that's okay ! i'm still able to say hi right now while we're walking, so that's enough, " you chirped, but he could hear the unmistakable sound of disappointment and sadness in your tone, making the guilt inside of him at being the one who caused your unhappiness eat him alive. but the look on his face didn't change, his walls too big to penetrate.

he did find you at that coffee shop, though. " oh, hello, friend- " he had called out, approaching your table, sitting next to you without even asking. he saw your eyes light up, and for a second he felt the warmth in his chest burst forward, his heart beating against his ribcage. " what good fortune that i was able to finish my tasks a little while ago. i didn't think you would actually come here alone. " there was a hint of confusion in his voice, but it was masked just as quickly as it came.

after this interaction, aventurine got a little awkward with you. what was he expected to say ? what did he do if he wasn't trying to push you away ? he was clumsy with his words, often just silently nodding along as you talked, and sometimes bringing up tiny points. he wasn't good at conversation when it wasn't to serve an agenda. being in survival mode his entire life, he had no idea how to be social, much less to someone as kind as you.

no matter how much he stumbled and fell over his own words, you treated him the same. he approached you cautiously, as if he was afraid that one day you would get sick of him and throw him out of your life permanently. was his personality too much for you to handle ? was he doing something wrong ? he wasn't sure, this was uncharted territory for him. all he could do was throw his dice and hope for the best outcome, something that was so comforting now unnerving. he could bet every single one of his chips, every possession he owned, including his own life, but you ? betting on you felt like one risk he wasn't willing to take.

" hey- i was at this shop a while ago, and i was hoping that you'd want to visit ? with me, of course, " aventurine asked, trying very hard not to look how pretty you looked right now, how your smile made his heart flutter every single time without fail. " i saw something i thought you might like. i wanted to get it for you but i don't know your size. "

" oh ? yeah, i'd love to go with you ! " you agreed immediately, as if everything that you were doing before this was suddenly unimportant. " but you really don't have to pay for me, honestly. i can take care of myself. "

this through him for a loop, and he hid it well, but aventurine had no idea what that meant. did you not want him to pay for you ? or were you just trying to be modest ? it wasn't like he was hungry for money, it was fine on his pockets, and he didn't mind spending if it meant spending on you, of course. besides, what did you want from accompanying him if it wasn't to buy things ? that's what friends were for, right ? it was a mutual beneficial agreement between two people to be friendly with each other to gain something from another, right ?

he was pretty sure that was how it was to be friends, but you challenged all of that. especially when you bought him a drink from a shop. he'd just mentioned it offhanded that he could go for some boba tea, and you had agreed, saying that it would be really good right now. and then you bought him his ? that's not how that was supposed to work, he was sure of it. why would you go out of your way to pay for something for him that you yourself wouldn't even get to enjoy ? he was willing to buy you things to keep you around him, but you didn't need to buy him anything to keep him around.

the possibility that you didn't want anything from him other than his time and himself was confusion, but refreshing.

eventually late night outs became late nights inside, and aventurine found himself in a precarious position, on your couch, your body on the other side, cuddling up against a pillow. the intimacy of the situation felt like it was choking him. and he finally got the courage to ask you the question that plagued him - why ? why did you care ? why did you try so hard ? what was in it for you ? putting your bets on him was a foolish decision that he couldn't rationalize. even he didn't bet on himself.

" because you're worth it, " you shrugged a little, the answer's simplicity wiping everything from him. all of his fears, his confusion, his doubts, just for this moment. right now, he understood. you never pushed him out of his comfort zone, and let your companionship evolve naturally. he didn't even realize he had let you inside of his shell before it was too late. " because you deserve it. "

he thought you were worth it, too. trusting you, putting his faith in you even though you had the ability to hurt him. it was worth it. you were worth it.

I'M WORKING LATE !

jason's too stressed, and too exhausted. luckily, you have a few ways of getting him to relax. rated 18+, mdni contains: jason todd x reader; grinding, handjob, blowjob, reader's hair is long enough 4 a ponytail

He hasn't looked up from his file in two hours.

Jason did this sometimes, got so engrossed in a case that everyone and everything else took a backseat. You learned early on that he doesn't like to be bothered when he gets in this headspace, getting used to tuning him out and going about your own tasks (aside from the occasional kiss atop his head or brush of your palm across his back, something he could never complain about), but you think if he stares at his papers any harder, he'll go cross-eyed.

He sat down to work two hours ago, around the same time you started making dinner. Not wanting to disturb him, the two of you worked around each other in a comfortable silence, him typing away at his laptop while sifting through papers, and you cutting vegetables and boiling noodles. In the one hour it took to prepare the meal and bring two steaming bowls of pasta to the table, he hadn't looked up once. You set his bowl in front of him, but you're not sure he even noticed.

In the hour following, you finished your meal, cleaned up the kitchen, took a shower, changed into pajamas, and packed up his untouched bowl of pasta for later, all before settling in on the couch to put on headphones and queue up your show on your computer.

Now, you watch him from your spot on the couch as he sits at the dining table, body tense and still as a statue, save for the occasional flick through the pages of his file, or a scribble of notes on his notepad. Seeing him ultra-focused was nothing new, but there's something about this night that has you concerned. The bags under his eyes are heavier than usual, his lips are chapped and raw from being chewed on, his reading glasses are askew on his face, and his hair is messy, odd ends sticking out from how often he drags his hand through it.

It's when his neck turns slightly to look at the notepad at his side and you hear the minute clicking noise followed by a quiet wince that you know you have to intervene.

From experience, you know this is something you have to go about subtly. At your harping, he's been getting better about prioritizing himself and his wellbeing over work, but he still shows some defensiveness when someone suggests he take a break. He won't admit it, but you know he feels guilty about taking time to relax when there are people who need his help.

You approach him slowly from behind, dragging your feet on the hardwood floor, a gentle alert to your nearing. Your fingers softly brush over his back, sliding up across his shoulder blades until your hands rest on his shoulders. He doesn't react.

You squeeze your hands lightly, feeling the tight knots in his muscles, and his shoulders relax a few centimeters. You repeat this motion, slowly massaging from his shoulders to his neck. He releases a heavy exhale when your thumbs press against the sides of his neck, making circular motions to ease the tension. You lean lower to brush light kisses over the spots you press into, and finally, his head lifts. He leans back, head falling over the neck of his chair to look up at you as his hands reach back to rest over your forearms. He wears a tired smile, and you drop your head to close the remaining space between you, brushing your lips over his. They feel rough from the consistent dragging against his teeth while he was deep in concentration, but nonetheless remain warm and inviting for you to press kisses to.

"Hi," Jason whispers against your lips, his voice scratchy from its hours unused.

"Hey," you breathe. Your lips travel up his face, kissing up his nose and to his forehead, each spot relaxing a little more as you kiss it.

Your fingers continue their pressure around his neck and he groans softly when you press into that perfect spot, finding the largest knot. You want to bottle the sound, save it to listen to on a loop for hours.

"Can you finish up for the night?" You whisper the words behind his ear, following up with another kiss brushed across the skin.

"I'm so close to the end, baby," he speaks softly, his breath warm on the side of your face. "I can feel it. I just need a little more time."

Your hands trail back down to his shoulders, pressing harder. "You've been stuck for forever. You need a break."

"Baby..." He sighs when your kisses move down his neck.

"Please?"

He leans forward, pushing away from your touch to look back at the work in front of him, but you persist, moving around to climb in his lap. Your legs straddle over his hips, arms circling around his neck. On instinct, his hands settle on your thighs, and squeeze.

"Please, Jay?" You whine, prodding your nose against his. "You're working so hard, honey." You drag your lips underneath his jaw. "You're so tense. Let me help you relax."

He sighs again, his hands sliding up to grip your waist, hips shifting forward to nudge against yours, and you know you've got him.

"I can't say no to you, can I?" Jason concedes, and you grin.

"No, you can't."

You kiss him eagerly, humming against his lips when he reciprocates. It starts off innocent, as slow and sweet kisses, before quickly devolving into something more harried, your heated breaths mingling through exchanged keens and moans. When Jason pulls back to remove his glasses and toss them on the table behind you, you mouth along his neck, sucking and biting and licking at the skin. At the same time, your hips rock against his, and his hold on your waist tightens. You muffle his moan when your mouth finds his again, hands sliding into his ruffled hair to grab ahold of the strands and pull. His mouth falls open slightly, and you take the opportunity to slip your tongue past his lips.

He's so lost in the feeling of your movement against him and your hands in his hair, Jason doesn't register the hand that slides down to his belt buckle until his jeans are unzipped and your hand has slipped inside to grip his half-hard cock through his boxers.

"Fuck," he groans, his head falling back as you palm him. With his throat on display, you latch onto the spot just below his Adam's apple. After a few moments, he pulls himself together enough to say, "Was this your plan?" He pushes his hips out to grind against your hand, his erection growing harder. "Seduce me into taking a break?"

Satisfied with the mark you've left on the column of his throat, you pull back to look at him. You tug at the band of his boxers, pulling them down marginally to slip your hand inside and pull his dick out. Your knuckles brush against his balls and his hips jump, releasing a small gasp from him. You tease him with slow, light strokes up and down his length. Your thumb brushes over the beads of precum on his tip, and a high-pitched moan falls from his open mouth. His gaze on you is something out of a renaissance painting, all rosy cheeks and devoted eyes.

"I don't know what you mean," you say, though the tail-end of your statement is cut off by Jason taking your face in his hand and bringing your lips back to his.

His other hand tries to creep under the waistband of your sleep shorts, but you stop him with a grab on his wrist. It elicits a needy whine from the back of his throat, both at your depriving him of touching you, and the loss of your touch on him.

"Sorry, baby." You push yourself off him, your heart skipping a beat at the broken noises he makes in protest. "But I said I'd help you relax."

You can see the change in his eyes when you drop to your knees in front of him, his enlarged pupils encroaching further on the teal of his irises until they're just thin rings of blue and green around black.

"Can I?" Your voice is hushed and timid, almost self-conscious at the submission you're offering.

He whispers your name, quiet and hungry as he looks down on you. You run your hands over his thighs and he moves to sit on the edge of his seat, spreading his legs further apart so you can fit comfortably between them. His hands, which grip the sides of his chair, are taken in yours and guided to your hair. One holds your hair back, and the other cups your jaw, his thumb brushing soothing strokes on your cheek as you take his cock in your hand once more. You stroke at the base while dipping your head down to wrap your mouth around his tip.

Jason is big, and no matter how many times you take him, there's always a moment needed to adjust. Slowly, your mouth works past the tip, each bob of your head taking a little more of him while your hand jerks him off where your mouth can't reach. His breathing grows heavier the deeper you take him, the muscles of his abdomen tensing and contracting with the effort it takes to not immediately cum at the sight of you sucking him off.

"Fuck, that's— baby, oh my— fuck!" His low, baritone moaning mixes with the sloppy sounds your mouth makes. His whole body squirms as he fights the urge to just stand up and roughly fuck your throat until he comes. "You're so fucking good to me," he groans.

The hand on your jaw brushes away the tears that form as you gag from taking him as deep as you can. The hand holding your hair tightens its grip, softly yanking the strands and you moan; Jason feels the vibration in his cock and whimpers, his own tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

"Baby, I'm so—" He cuts himself off with a loud, animalistic moan when you swirl your tongue around the head of his dick, followed by a flick of your tongue against the tip before taking him in deep once again. Your tongue drags against the vein under his head and he comes in your mouth, the hot spurts gushing onto your tongue as he shallowly thrusts himself through his orgasm.

When he's done, hands fallen to his sides, slumped back in his seat and panting heavily, you slide your mouth off him and hold it open for him to see what he left.

"Swallow it." His voice is low and gravelly.

You listen.

"That's my girl," he breathes.

He helps you to your feet and wipes your wet cheeks with the back of his hand before pulling you in for a kiss.

"My girl," he whispers again. His eyes sweep over you with reverence, and it's your turn to cradle his cheeks in your palms and brush away the hints of moisture.

"Are you done working?" You ask quietly. Hopefully.

He leans his forehead against yours. "I still have to—"

You give him a long sigh, to which he playfully rolls his eyes.

"I guess I'll just go to bed! All alone!" You exclaim dramatically, stalking away from him with exaggerated steps.

"I'll be there in a minute," Jason laughs, calling after you.

"You better," you tease. When you know he's looking, you lift the hem of your shirt and pull it off, throwing it aside and turning away. It has barely left your hand when you hear his chair scraping against the floor and you break into a run towards your bedroom.

You don't get very far, however, before he catches you. You squeal when he grabs you by the waist and throws you over his shoulder, both of you full of giggles as he carries you to your room.

cause i'm a singer....

so this is my first time writing smut why am i highkey nervous abt it this was supposed to be under a thousand words but girl....i'm still classifying it a mini fic tho not a regular fic bc i FEEL LIKE IT & let it be known i am a jason crying during sex TRUTHER

and um why was i fighting for my life trying to describe their positions in the beginning when he was sitting in the chair and reader was standing behind him. i still fear it's not clear so i drew it. hope this helps

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。08:00 PM — AL-HAITHAM.

idk i just felt like. writing haitham grieving his grandmother. it’s also a slight character study ig. idk if anyone will read this but if you do. just know that he is the core of my heart. his grandmother too i mourn her death so much sobs

“hey,” you say gently, sitting next to him. al-haitham only grunts in acknowledgment, slumped on the couch. “d’you want dinner? i made your favorite.”

“not hungry,” he mumbles.

his grandmother’s death anniversary is a sore spot. it’s a day you tiptoe around carefully every year. you don’t know much about his family—just that he was orphaned very young and raised by his father’s mother until the ripe age of 16. you’ve seen the dainty handwriting inside the covers of books, and you’ve even seen a small, framed photograph that he keeps stowed away.

sometimes, you wish he’d tell you. you wish the far away look and the clenched fist around the fabric of his pants would ease with your presence. you wish he’d tell you about her, that you’d know the woman who raised the man you love—even if only through hushed words and old stories.

“you hate sleeping on an empty stomach,” you hum, placing your hand over his clenched one.

his fist loosens a little—progress.

“i…” he pauses, let’s out a heavy sigh before letting his head fall back. there’s tension in his shoulders, in his neck, in the jaw he keeps so tightly clenched. “i won’t be sleeping for a bit. sorry,” he tries to sound apologetic. you don’t hear much in his tone besides defeat. “you can head in without me.”

“that’s okay,” you shrug, forcing his clenched fingers apart to weave yours in with his. “i don’t sleep well without you anyway.”

“suit yourself,” is all he says.

and it’s silent for a bit. he seems to be thinking deeply—or reminiscing, maybe grieving. maybe all three, but you’re not too sure. you’re never too sure when it comes to how al-haitham feels about anything.

he’s hard to decipher—but he’s easy to pull apart. you don’t understand how someone as hard and calculating as him is so gentle with love, but it’s hard not to notice how soft his touch is, how it lingers, how the tips of his fingers long for you. you don’t doubt he loves you—he never gives you the chance to.

but sometimes….sometimes you wish he’d let you love him properly. to kiss the scars. to admire the parts he thinks are ugly. to shelter the thoughts that have no home besides his own head.

it’s silent for a bit—until it’s not. you break the silence first, like you’re holding a hand out for him from the shore as he drifts aimlessly.

“baby?” you ask quietly. he grunts again in response. “what was she like?”

“who?”

al-haitham is a smart man. probably the smartest you’ve ever met. you don’t think you’ve ever met someone who read physics books as a pastime, and you’re pretty certain he’ll always be the only one. you know he knows exactly what what you’re asking and you know he’s avoiding it.

but it doesn’t stop you though—it’s been long enough, you think. you’ve known him long enough. craved him for a few summers and loved him for enough winters that he has pieces of you that fall through the cracks of your resolve.

you think you deserve a few pieces of him too—even if your fingers have to reach past the cracks themselves, even if they have to slice against the jagged edges and bleed a little in the process.

you’ll bleed for him—like the sun rises from the east and sets in the west, your heart beats for al-haitham. and it’ll bleed for him too.

“your grandmother,” you whisper. “you’ve never told me about her.”

“there’s not much to tell,” he shrugs. “she died right before i enrolled in the akademiya and she raised me after my parents died.”

“i’m sure there’s more,” you say gently—his grip has tightened on your hand now. you don’t think he realizes—in fact, you don’t think al-haitham realizes half of what he feels when it comes to vulnerability.

it’s why he realizes he loves you so late. it’s why you fall first and he falls after. but he falls harder—it’s not hard to see.

“she was a ksharewar scholar,” he offers blankly.

your thumb brushes over his knuckles, and it’s almost like your hand reaches past the shore just a little further—you don’t mind risking the fall into the water if it means pulling him out.

“haitham,” you sigh delicately. he swallows. it’s hard to keep composure for long—even for someone like him.

grief is an evil thing. it’s a familiar friend—one you wish you never made and one you’ll never shake away. it dances with you under the moonlight, when the stars are bright but the sky is heavy. it barely grazes your skin some days but weighs into your bones on others. it’s a cruel thing really—and it hits you harder some moments than others.

“she was kind,” he starts slowly, his hand reaching out and grabbing yours over the shoreline. maybe, just maybe, sometimes he can get tired of drifting too. “she liked to bake. her hands got too weak to knead dough when i got older, though. you would have liked her tarts. she couldn’t read without her glasses and she always forgot they were on her head. she said my father looked like her husband and that i look like my father. she used to ask me to read to her sometimes so i’d sit on her lap and read my books out loud. she loved the sunrise but was never good at waking up on time to see it. she used to drink tea during sunsets. she liked hers extra sweet and i liked mine more bitter. i…” he pauses, voice shaky as his fingers dig into your hand. you squeeze, and he sniffles. “i haven’t had tea since she passed.”

“she sounds lovely,” you whisper. “i would have loved to meet her.”

“she’d have loved you,” he cracks a small smile, shaking his head as he thinks. “probably more than she loved me.”

“i’m sure i’d never compare to her darling grandson,” you chuckle, bumping arms with him. his head drops to your shoulder—you hesitate for a moment before deciding to pull him into your chest. and when he doesn’t protest, when he buries himself into you instead of pulling away, you thread your fingers into his hair.

“i miss her,” he croaks quietly.

“i know,” you soothe. “i know, baby.”

al-haitham has only ever known love twice in his life. one is gone but it lives through the other. the gentle touch against his scalp and the warmth under his cheek is familiar—it feels like the lap he slept on when he was six. it feels like the delicate hands that cupped his cheeks when he was eight. it feels like the soft kisses against his temple when he was ten.

al-haitham has only ever known love twice in his life, and he’s glad that one of them is you.

“you’d have loved her too,” his voice breaks. you kiss his head as you feel your shirt dampen.

“i already do,” you murmur, “she raised you well. i have her to thank.”

his breath hitches at that—and then he pulls you closer, grasps you tighter, falls in love with you harder. his grandmother’s death anniversary has always been a sore spot—but somehow, you numb the ache even if by just a little.

gently, your hand clasps his and pulls him to shore. he’s grateful he doesn’t have to drift alone anymore.

there is nothing i’m more obsessed with than al-haitham’s childhood. i have so many thought about it. and him. and his character. and his inner thoughts and feelings and most of them revolve around his grandmother and more importantly her passing. and idk. he’s just sosososo important to me i wish we knew more about his grandmother. i love her so much i grieve her passing even though we’ve never even met her 😭

Gaz being Gaz

afternoon ノ dr.ratio . fem!reader

ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . 4.7k — vague description of comfy clothes with open buttons and lace ノ either early in the relationship or unspecified BUT with feelings — reader is just visiting ratio in his home ノ oral . both receiving ノ long foreplay . fingering ノ it is so messy and domestic ノ doing it raw . cumming inside ノ sappy and sweet dialogues here and there ノ love confessions during a rough fucking session yum! ノ fluff . comfort . smut — the full course :)

the golden rays of the afternoon sun filter through the linen drapes, casting a warm, ethereal glow upon the house.

the classy furniture and one rug, woven with intricate patterns and vibrant hues, add charm to the overall rather minimalistic interior. throughout the room, various relics and books, both old and freshly published, infuse the space with a sense of elegancy.

veritas ratio thinks you fit the imagery perfectly, finding you exactly where he expected you to be — on the plush cushions on the sofa, adorned with rich fabrics and delicate embroidery, beckoning to sink into their soft embrace. the gilded mirror reverses the soft light, casting a golden glitter on the place where you sit.

you notice him in the reflection before you turn to face him. he looks magnificent with that charming smile of his.

there is something about your appearance that catches his eyes too — perhaps the way the homey clothing falls over your lap or the loosely open buttons that bring attention to your chest? or maybe it’s the lace that hugs your curves.

whatever it is, the fact is that he has always thought you beautiful, even though he rarely compliments anyone. and now you appreciate the peaceful afternoon in his living room as if it was your own.

“hi… how’s work?” you ask to start the conversation.

“work? challenging. however, i would not engage in it if it were overly facile. i enjoy mental stimulation.” his voice sounds proud yet elegant, his figure confident. he stands up straight as a candle, while the back of his hand is close to his chin. appearing more like a statue than a human being.

“mhm… taking a break, then? to clear your mind?”

“yes, indeed. there is only one thing that can help me relax at this hour… that one activity i dearly love when time is in abundance…” his grin is soft and smug as he walks closer.

his approach does not scare you — in fact, it is rather endearing.

enough time for you to put down the book you were reading before he leans against the headrest and asks for your hand.

the contact makes you embarrassed. veritas ratio keeps smiling and leaves a sweet peck on your knuckles. another one on your wrist. and then on your forearm, travelling up along your body.

before you realise, he is already kissing you passionately and finds a way to touch your waist under the comfy clothes, tickling and teasing the skin. when it comes to your attitude, you get shy when he touches you like that — a contrast to his unwavering demeanour, how easily you sway under his confidence.

as his hands trail down, caressing you in sensitive spots and brushing against your thighs, his lips never stop tasting yours, occasionally drawing little patterns along your neck.

he likes you, loves you in some ways even, though it would require another page of explanations — sometimes he just wishes to make sure you know of his fondness, while using you to get rid of the stress that occupies his brain.

“may i touch you? will you spread your legs for me?” he murmurs with that haughty smile of his.

it feels weirdly empowering to hear him say something like that, especially knowing he isn’t used to asking others such questions. you do as he asked, letting veritas’ long fingers slip past the thin layers of fabrics.

you shiver with delight and anticipation as his cool digits press firmly onto your burning flesh. his palm shifts carefully, just barely, testing out what his moves have on you. his other one is resting on your chest, pressing your body deeper into the sofa and holding it still.

in no time, one finger parts your pussy apart and penetrates you in the most careful manner possible — it’s gentle, almost too cautious to be real, ensuring that he’s not setting a pace your body cannot match until you’re warm and wet.

“mmh… that’s an unusual way to rest from work. you’re still thinking too much, you know?” you say with a dreamy sigh, starting to enjoy all these little sparks he extracts from your insides.

veritas chuckles.

“indeed, i am. however, my thoughts now are focused solely upon pleasing you,” he answers. “i must say… i prefer this state of mind.”

you moan softly, but immediately feel ashamed of your reaction, as if it were inappropriate for such sounds to be voiced. veritas looks pleased, though, watching with intent as his digit slides further into your core, easier. you wish you could reach out to touch him in return, but he’s sitting upright and away from your needy hands — so you resort to hugging a pillow close to your chest.

there is a sizable tent forming in his trousers and you wonder if he will allow you to taste him later.

the idea is so exciting and your inner walls squeeze his digit as it sinks with each slow thrust. the firm tip of his thumb rubs gentle circles on your clit, sending jolts of pleasure up your nerves. nothing gets past his cautious eyes. he peers at you intently, drinking in the sight of your squirming form.

instead of adding another digit, he lowers himself down the couch and parts your knees even wider, giving his head room between your legs.

the feeling of his soft, slick tongue slipping over your glistening pussy is heavenly, and your grip on the pillow tightens, as the motions become more demanding, exploring your folds and the area around your opening. his finger continues the agonisingly steady rhythm, guiding you into the bliss.

each flick of his wet muscle has your breathing speed up a notch. veritas doesn’t rush things though. he’s well aware of every move he makes and the impact it has on you — yet you can tell there is something about him that stays collected as he continues.

even through the haze of your lust, you sense that he’s trying to figure out if there are more ways in which he could satisfy you.

just when you think the stimulation will be enough to get you there in a few moments, his hands retreat and his mouth latches onto your sensitive bundle of nerves, causing the ecstasy to arrive immediately. the unexpected sensation has you cry out, and clamp your thighs around his head for a moment before forcing them back open again. he continues as if nothing happened and slowly coaxes a wave of arousal, swallowing hungrily as it spills onto his face. he does not cease his actions, not until your entire being trembles with release.

withdrawing reluctantly, he licks his lips before giving you one final, sweet peck on your slit, listening to your hiccups. then he rests his head against your lap and looks up with a smirk.

“given the look on your face,“ he comments before reaching for the wipes from under the coffee table and cleaning the mess off your folds and from his chin, “this was far more beneficial than i anticipated…”

“let me touch you too…” you whine weakly, still coming down to your senses, each caress of his palm on your inner thigh making you bounce.

pondering over your sweet plea for a moment, he moves up until straddling your chest, his muscular legs on each side of your frame and his pants in front of your face. the view makes your body tremble in excitement. working on opening his slacks, he keeps the eye contact with you, the amber of his irises warmly burning onto your face.

his cock springs out and slaps lightly against your cheek, his hips inching further down. you immediately grasp the opportunity to swirl your tongue around the tip and lap at the hot flesh eagerly.

not to waste any more time with what’s right before you, you start sucking until you hear a soft chuckle from him.

“quite lovely, this sight of yours.”

your lips pop around the hard girth and you smile while panting, his hand petting your head gently.

“hmm… you can use my mouth, if you want to,” with an adorable giggle, you kiss the glossy head and pump the base lazily with your fist.

his eyes light up at that idea as he slides his shaft more down your throat, making you groan with effort as you struggle to keep up without gagging.

the burning ache of your jaw, combined with his quiet praise, is enough to light the fire in your own core again, your fists clasping around his hips for support as he fucks your mouth in shallow thrusts.

“i would prefer not to make you uncomfortable. this is enough…” he says with a dark timbre in his voice, staring right into your teary eyes.

unable to speak, you only take him deeper, his length tapping at the back of your throat and catching him by a surprise. breathlessly, but no less excited, he smiles and gets the hint that you wish to continue.

“very well then,” he begins to buck his hips, working his way to a better angle, taking care to not go too rough.

your nose bumps against his underbelly from time to time as he eases further. it’s an odd yet pleasurable mix of being choked and suffocating, but it’s the sight of him that’s driving you insane — someone who’s done everything with perfection is now panting above you, a peachy tint of blush on his face as he gets hot.

it doesn’t take much to bring him close to the edge — perhaps it’s been too long since he got some relief, or perhaps it’s your performance that impresses him. either way, it feels wonderful to witness how much he’s enjoying it, and even more, when silent moan slips down his tongue and he stills your head with his cock buried in your mouth.

it takes all of his endurance and patience to refuse to cum, the damp warmth of your throat and mixed saliva with his precum teasing too much out of him. especially when it runs past your lips in a single drop as you cough lightly…

slowly pulling out, veritas holds the head of his still hard dick to your face, stroking himself to ease the strain and the need for release. you blink innocently while he smears the drool around your mouth and cheeks, collecting some at his fingertips to let you suck them clean.

“mhm… very good,” he sighs. “i would ask for more from you… there are plenty of other things we could explore together, in case you are willing.”

he quickly kisses your forehead as you hum happily, nodding and agreeing.

“i will get you water, wait a moment.” he helps you to sit up.

when you drink from the glass he brought, veritas watches with a smile as if he were proud to see you gulp it down, waiting for you to finish.

“will you stay with me overnight? i would love to feel you close during sleep,” he asks with an unexpected, yet honest tenderness in his tone.

it makes your heart race to know that he’d want such closeness with you. you are about to give in when he continues.

“well, you know me — i never ask unless i need something. if you have anything planned, i can take you to your place instead… that is, if you are comfortable with that,” his words trail off quietly.

the last drops of water trickle down your throat and you cough once more to get rid of the sticky residue from the insides of your cheeks, but then you smile at him, flushed and glowing.

“of course i want to… i’ve been missing you quite a lot lately, you know?” you purr at him, cradling his face in your arms as you shift closer.

a pair of sharp brows quirks up with interest. the amber of his eyes shines in golden hues of the afternoon and you swear you can hear him chuckle softly. suddenly, the couch seems warmer, but it’s not from the thin rays of the sun that peek from behind the curtains.

“what an interesting reply. you cannot hide it from me anymore… your yearning,” he notes confidently.

“neither do you.” you point out.

at that, he flips you flat over his lap, your tummy resting on the sofa while your ass perks up nicely right under his hands. a firm slap on your butt has you yelping in surprise.

“true… it appears i cannot, though that was not the answer i was looking for, dear.”

the little squeaks you made only help his palm to fall more freely, spanking you like that — it meets your flesh again gently, playfully even, but he allows the sting to linger this time.

but he does not relish in granting you pain, even if so brief, so his fingers slide down between your legs again.

he can feel that you are still wet from your earlier orgasm — yet there is something in the way his touch makes you shiver, his deft digits trailing along your heated, slick skin, that makes him more eager to get you squirm in his hold again.

“what a marvellous thing you are… just where i want you to be.” he coos.

in a blink of an eye, you find yourself pressed against the embroidered cushions, your clothes once more doing absolutely nothing to cover you up when they get pulled to the side. all you can do is to cry out when his thumb slides inside and he starts circling your clit with his index.

“fuck!” you pant in disbelief, his clever digits setting the perfect tempo, slipping in and out easily while rubbing your sensitive button.

veritas doesn’t utter a word — he seems to be studying the way your body reacts to his movements, gauging your every gasp and twitch. when he finds a pattern that makes you moan louder and cling to the fabric, he does not stop until your pleasure bursts in its peak.

there is no break for you — he uses your thighs to grind his cock into full hardness again, enjoying the feeling of your velvety walls hugging his thumb.

then it stops abruptly, as he’s pulling out with a satisfied grunt.

“would you allow me to feel you in a different manner?” he asks with his chin on your shoulder and his breath ghosting against your neck.

he leans down and presses another kiss just below your ear, his teeth grazing on your sensitive skin, followed by his lips moving down your nape, his tongue licking and tasting as he goes.

“it will certainly take all my remaining energy to make this day unforgettable for you. i truly hope that you will forgive my boldness in that matter,” his whispers travel through the waves of your senses.

there is no strength left within you to lift your head or talk — the impression of his hands gliding over your flesh, massaging your back before sliding lower to cup your ass is maddening. your lips part in a soft groan of pleasure when you feel his naked erection pressing in between your cheeks, sliding languidly between your folds.

“may i?” his voice is tight, like his patience has run thin as he pushes the tip in just a few inches.

you whine helplessly, rutting against the pillows and the couch, desperately seeking friction. you can barely breathe properly, trying to speak while he slides deeper, the pressure of him stretching you against your limit already making you squirm.

“yes, please… f-feels amazing.”

without wasting any more time, veritas draws his hips back only to drive himself in and to pin your body onto the sofa with his weight. it is overwhelming, he fills you up just right, your body convulsing as he brushes a particularly sensitive spot.

there are no more coherent thoughts from you. you cannot help but keen in pure delight, clawing the cushion, his hands resting on your hips.

the first few strokes are slow and shallow, allowing you to ease into the new sensation and enjoy his manly frame surrounding you. he does not miss a single beat — it takes him mere seconds to realise you will probably bruise with his forceful grip on your body, and he backs off to hover over you again, leaving your backside exposed.

“ouch, thanks.” you gasp out in relief, freed from his strength, a moment later asking shakily. “you’re doing alright?”

“ah, well. i cannot complain… in fact, i would appreciate more of this tight heat around my cock… and i can surely fulfil your wishes as well,” he promises, his thrusts picking up the pace.

it is almost overbearing with how rough he treats you now, your clenching pussy spurring him on as he pounds you mercilessly. you squeeze your eyes shut and bite your lip, while he forces you to accept each swift pump of his girth until you lose yourself.

“should i be gentler? make it more bearable for you?”

“no… really,” you murmur. “fuck me until you are content. please…” you whimper.

your heart is about to jump out of your chest as it thrums against the upholstery. veritas is right behind you, his grip returning on your hips, pulling you backwards each time he bucks his hips forward.

he’s much more demanding now, taking everything he wants from your body as he slams himself in and out with desire, fucking you faster and harder, yet his face shows nothing more than serenity as he continues, completely composed as his pelvis snaps against your backside.

he doesn’t respond, too focused on satisfying his need as he bounces your butt. the tension is rising in you with every stroke, as you bury your face into the pillows and drown your sobs into it.

veritas pushes in as deep as he can go, before slowing down until he comes to a stop, nestled comfortably inside of you.

his chest rests against your back and he finally moves his arms, wrapping them around you from above, pulling you close. you try to turn your head to see his face, but he won’t let you, placing soft kisses along your hairline instead.

“you should get used to it by now. i want you to remember the feeling of me inside of you… for quite some time, at least. besides, we both know you prefer this position, don’t you?” his voice is warm as he speaks in a whisper.

“i love this,” you answer with a struggle. “ngh… you make me so happy,” you add, nuzzling the pillow with a fire dancing on your cheeks.

a rich chuckle resonates in his chest. he lies perfectly still for a while, his length throbbing against your core and bringing a strange comfort with it — in moments like this, it is almost hard to believe he could be capable of being mean.

just when you think you’re getting drowsy, he presses another sweet kiss against the crook of your neck.

“i am delighted to hear that.” he shifts, his tip nudging your inner walls once again and making you whimper. “i do hope i am doing well in treating you appropriately, though. if there is anything you wish for, tell me.”

“well… perhaps you could move.” you wiggle your bum a bit, brushing your swollen core against him.

the sound of his laugh is music to your ears, especially as his gentle hand pulls away to take a firm hold of your butt and starts caressing the supple flesh.

“alright.”

with deliciously slow motions, he rocks his hips forward and back. the slapping sound of his skin against yours growing in volume, despite your own wailing. incredibly tight and sensitive in the cage of his arms — you yield.

“want you… please, yes…” your moans seem to spur him on even more.

veritas pulls back only to snap his hips into you in one strong thrust, the base of his thick girth crowding you entirely, your arousal providing more than enough slick to take him in. your thighs quiver with every stroke, but you feel delirious as you eagerly take whatever he decides to give.

a quiet mewl escapes your lips when he reaches an angle that allows him to rub his shaft right on all the sensitive spots — the sensual massage makes you weak and unable to form words.

the other hand is resting on your nape, keeping your face planted firmly into the pillows. the gentle hum of his voice only adds fuel to the fire igniting deep within your loins, but you can’t deny the pleasure you derive from listening to his ranting, his velvety tone vibrating in his throat.

“hmph, and you shall have me…”

it is possible to tell, even through your pleasured haze, that you have started to satisfy his needs — your tight, soaked cunt gripping him in a way that has him craving for the finale.

he places his lips next to your ear and sighs before his next words.

“i cannot be lenient with you… it seems i really am attracted to that naive individual whose actions brought us to this very desperate situation.”

this makes your heart flutter with affection towards him, yet you do not move. his tender touch and loving words, however, are enough to make you swoon as he keeps speaking, his eyes falling half-lidded.

“this is not the first time i found myself thinking about how beautiful you look while lost in passion. and i really, really would like to help you to come undone. soon.”

the last thing he says before focusing solely on driving his hips flush against yours.

each long thrust is paired with a grunt from him as he rams in and out of your abused hole, your body trapped under him as you lay limp against the plush sofa, while he pins you down.

you feel him everywhere, his hands groping you wherever he finds space between the pillows, his cock pumping relentlessly between your legs as his lower abdomen rolls smoothly against your butt.

you try to suppress your wailing, but a choked moan still slips from between your lips. his chin resting on your shoulder while his cheek rests on your head, close, almost like cuddling. your legs are already shaking, the sensation is so overwhelming that it brings tears to your eyes, your clenching pussy driving him absolutely crazy, the muscles spasming around him forcing his eyelids shut as he begins to breathe heavily.

veritas drops his voice an octave, whispering against your hair as he keeps up the fast pace, not giving you time to recover. he’s close too — your whole body trembles beneath his weight.

“yes, come on… cum for me,” he says with a raw, husky tone.

without the support of the pillows, your forehead sinks into the sofa and you feel him curl his fingers in your hair. he tugs softly at the locks as he holds onto you and uses his other hand to keep you steady for him.

there is no way for you to prevent your legs from twitching violently as the wave hits you at full force, your entire frame shuddering while he fucks you through your release.

his movements get jerkier with each thrust, but he does not pull out to spill onto your skin — instead he rides your high while chasing his own until he stiffens, releasing himself deep into you with a groan.

he collapses on your back, panting heavily as he covers you completely. the room is spinning as he drifts in his pleasure, his palms roaming across your body while you feel your toes going numb, the muscles of your pelvic floor throbbing painfully.

veritas doesn’t seem to pay any mind to the mess you’re both lying in — as long as he stays inside you, he cares not what happens to the couch, it shouldn’t be that bad. his breathing is shallow as he peppers soft kisses over your neck and shoulders before moving up your nape to nuzzle your hair.

his arms encircle your waist, pulling you close, his chest against your back. your head is dizzy, and the room seems to have gone dark as your lids drop down.

“hey, sleepyhead. are you okay?” veritas mutters when you shift slightly beneath him.

you hum quietly, too spent to talk yet, and wrap your hands around his wrists to stop him from sliding them any further than they already have. he presses a soft kiss into your temple and turns your head sideways.

his fingertips brush along the line of your neck before settling against your skin, rubbing tiny circles. you take a few breaths before lifting your lashes to find yourself staring straight at veritas’ face — he is watching you all the same with soft eyes and hot flush on his cheeks.

“did i hurt you?” he whispers, concern showing clearly in his voice.

you shake your head gently. he doesn’t let you speak yet, his pads continuing their path downwards along your spine until he stops with one palm against your lower back, soothing the quivering muscles.

“it was intense for you,” he states rather than asking.

a shiver runs through your body. veritas gives you a warm smile and slowly eases himself from your battered cunt, a squelch following the action and making you both laugh softly.

“how do you feel? better now?” you ask once your thoughts become clear again, looking at him as he props himself up to clean the mess, again.

“a lot, actually.” he responds. he gets a bit flustered when your gaze stays fixed on him. “and i apologise for my rough behaviour. you know i wouldn’t dare to—”

“i enjoyed it. a lot, too,” you interrupt him mid-sentence, though with your weak voice it was more of his mercy to pause to let you talk.

“really?” he looks surprised, incredulous.

“i always have… enjoyed everything you have done to me,” you tell him in all honesty and sigh softly, your eyes flickering up and meeting his as your body sluggishly turns to the side. “you’re just very considerate in bed. the opposite of selfish. you put me first every time, and that makes me happy,” you smile through tired expression.

veritas purses his lips. instead of answering immediately to your unexpected confession — that made him quite flustered, which he wouldn’t like to admit — he focuses on wiping you clean from the slick mix of essences leaking out of you and running down your legs, while humming thoughtfully.

you bite your lip, staying silent. your hand finds its place on his thigh, resting there in a calming manner, his leg trembling under your touch.

when he speaks again, it is nothing more than a whisper.

“i am pleased to hear that you’ve noticed,” he says with a total composure laced in his words, his fingers holding a bunch of tissues between the two of you.

you hum contently, taking his free hand into yours and raising it to your lips, planting soft, little kisses on the back of his palm, trailing his knuckles and then the sides of his wrist.

you can tell he is stunned, but doesn’t seem to mind, or show any sign of displeasure. he returns to his original task after a second, carefully cleaning you before standing up and fixing his pants, placing a loving kiss on your cheek and excusing himself to make some tea for you to drink, since it will soon be dinnertime.

he goes back into the kitchen while you lie undressed on his couch, your heartbeat finally starting to calm down. through the high of satisfation and tiredness, you notice the details on the rug, small indents in the threads where the coffee table was placed before. and the golden embossing slightly worn from the covers of the books he’s reading, probably from the touch of his pads.

you like this place, it feels like your home too.

ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . author’s note ノ if i missed any mistakes, i will cry, editing this took years off my life. BUT i really hope it was sweet and worth reading <3 i personally think this is my new favourite fic of mine, i got too emotional writing and fixing it :’) but i love this man so so much — so it was worth it!

let me shatter into you

— aka jason knows better than to let anyone get away with hurting you

———

your eyes trace the brown-yellow bruise forming on your wrist, the consequence of some asshole on the street too drunk to remember it isn’t polite to grab pretty girls. you would’ve let it go, really, it’s gotham, this kind of thing happens. unfortunately for the poor bastard, he had the misfortune of forgetting his sense in front of jason todd.

you try to hide the bruise before your boyfriend can see it, sliding the tarnished patch of skin under the sleeve of your jacket with haste— but he catches it anyways. of course he does. you can faintly see shocks of green lightning crackling in his ocean blue eyes, a precursor to the white hot rage stemming from his chest to the rest of his body.

you gently squeeze his arm, noting how tense the muscles in his bicep are. you know jason. you know he loves you differently— like you’re something fragile. he worships you, taking care of you like you’re a marble statue and he’s terrified of finding cracks. so something as small as a bruise, no matter how tiny or how minor, it makes him lose control.

he gently removes your hand from his arm, pressing a chaste kiss against your bruise. “why don’t you go back to that café, yeah? i’ll join you in a minute.” he says, looking down at you with a soft smile. if you didn’t know him any better, you’d think he’d completely gotten over the situation, happy as a clam.

but you do know him, and you know that the way his shoulders are tensed and his free hand is fisted in the pocket of his jacket means that he’s enraged.

“jay—“

he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, giving you a gentle smile. “please, baby. i don’t want you to see this.”

you should stop it. you should try. but he’s looking at you like that and your morals suddenly become incredibly loose. you hesitate, remembering the waves of repulsion you felt moments ago when that idiot bastard yanked you towards him. “just… don’t hurt him bad.”

jason nods, turning you around and guiding you forward, watching until you turn towards the cafe before he focuses his attention on the man, who is still too piss drunk to comprehend how badly he had fucked up. you hear jason before the door fully closes behind you, an echo of “so you think that’s how you should treat a woman?”

he’s terrifying. that drunk idiot must be terrified.

and he’s yours. scary dog privileges and all that. it makes you feel warm, safe, loved, protected— you’re irrevocably in love with that. with him.

he comes back in a few minutes, maybe fifteen? the wait stretched on for hours in your mind. his knuckles are bloody, but none of it is his. he cleans up in the bathroom before sliding next to you on the cushioned side of your half-booth, wrapping an arm and your shoulder, breathing you in like a man starved.

“he’s fine.” he says quietly, so only you can hear it. “just made sure he learned to keep his hands to himself.”

you close your eyes, leaning into him, into his warmth. you don’t say anything— you don’t have to, the way you bury yourself against him is admission enough. his arms wrap around you and the bruise fades back into your skin. your heart beats with more love than you thought it capable of producing, your chest swelling like it’s about to burst.

you press a gentle kiss against his chest and everything makes sense again.

———

it’s always when i say i’m not gonna write that inspiration strikes

─── 𓈒 𝓨EARNER!𝓙ASON TODD 𝓗EADCANONS ❪ SMUT ❫

𝓖𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 : ; smut headcanons for 𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐃 who yearns. or, well, jason todd who’s ovulating from yearning for you more.

𝓒ONTENTS : : yearner!jason todd. smut. foreplay mentioned. praises. ooc(?). female!reader. smut. light smut. masturbation. sweet nothings. fluff. aftercare. both are of age !! gramatical errors. yearner yearner yearner yearner yearner yearner yearner yearner yearner yearner

BOOKS — DC BOOK

REQUESTED ; SUGGESTED : : @yeoniverseee : I sent you the request on ig not here 😭 I'm sorry, boo. Okay. I need need need need need yearner! Jason Todd headcanons. Begging. Jason Todd in general is already a yearner so it's like ovulating! LMAO

ᨦ𓏲 ، ݃♟❜ : : my....... first...... time.......... writing........ smut............................... I'M NOT VERY GOOD AT THIS— I'M NOT GOOD AT IT AT AWLL SO I'M SOSOSOSO SORRY😓 also, these are HEADCANONS,, & how i see yearner!(ovulating)jason. so.. yeah.. inspired by my two works, most ardently ( mostly this. )& my love. ion think i will ever write smut again... i only wrote this bc my pretty girl was the one who requested 😭( luv u so much. ) sighs.. okay. it's fine. it's cool. && OVULATING!JASON IM SOBBING LDMAO. i made this TWO WEEKS AGO btw.. yeah.. that's how difficult writing smut is for me... so don't expect much. will do a fluff version.. bc no waayyy.. ... but i love-love hannie 😋 god my blog is not sfw anymore. & layout is once again, inspired by eli < 3

yearner!jason todd who touches you like you're a secret he never imagined he'd be able to keep. every time. slow hands. he's committing you to memory. like if he dies again, your skin will be the final thing he sees & feel

yearner!jason todd who gets hard just hearing you say his name. especially when it's soft. or needy. or when you whine while pulling him closer. like, like, it physically affects him. sometimes he bites his lip to keep himself from coming too fast.

yearner!jason todd who always, always, always, always kisses you first. regardless of how desperate he is, regardless of how quickly it begins. there's always a kiss. kisses. kiss. kisses. because to him, it isn't merely sex. it never is just sex. it's a "i missed you. i love you. i fear of losing you." kind.

yearner!jason todd who's a foreplay guy. like…like… he's making out with you for 30-ish minutes before he even considers doing anything else. thighs jammed between yours, his hands pressing up under your shirt, moaning( he moans. like come awn. ) into your mouth like you're air.

yearner!jason todd who wants to go down on you more than he wants to breathe. legit, legit, literally, literally his favorite thing. his hands on your thighs, his eyes on you, humming into you just to feel you squirm( 😛 ). he needs, needs, needs you falling apart because of him.

yearner!jason todd who never, ever, ever, hurries your clothes off. it's slow. like he's unwrapping something holy( but will be doing something unholy,, ). kissing each inch of skin as he takes them off you. whispering little sweet nothings ( well. yeah. shh. it is. he's sweet. very sweet. ) like "so fuckin' beautiful. god, ma, look at you."

yearner!jason todd cried during sex,,, he insisted it was sweat. you both knew otherwise. like. nu-uh. he came so hard he gagged on his own breath, then buried his face against your neck & sniffled. his voice cracked when he said "fuck. i didn't think i'd ever get this.” ( #yearner )

yearner!jason todd who whimpers. not grunts. whimpers.( dc mls, please normalize whimperer!jason. im tired of people saying he only scowls( who scowls during sex though… i don't read smut allat…… ), groans, grunts.. it's yearner!jason anw so yay!! okay i'll stop. ) when it's good. when he's close. when he's overwhelmed. his hips stutter & catch in breath & his hands hold on to you like you'll vanish.

yearner!jason todd who speaks so much in bed. i said it. & not cocky dirty stuff. like emotional crap. "i love you so much." "you feel like heaven." "you make me feel real." between gentle moans & curses & kissing your shoulder. ( like. i changed my mind. put a baby in me already. take that fucking condom awfff. )

yearner!jason todd when he bottoms( or well, let you take control..,, for a bit ), he stops. not because he needs to. because he needs to feel you. needs you to feel him. chest to chest. lips moving. arms trembling. "jesus christ━━baby━━i'm so fuckin' in love with you."

yearner!jason todd who gets overwhelmed. sometimes he freezes in mid sentence just to hug you. arms wrapped tight. face buried in your chest or your neck or your shoulder. grounding himself. because he still can't believe it's real. can't believe that you're real. can't believe that he's real.

yearner!jason todd who says thank you. after. during. every time. sometimes a whisper. sometimes a broken moan. "thank you. fuck. thank you. i needed this. i needed you."

yearner!jason todd who's top kinks are……….. praise, desperation, & you. he doesn’t care where, when, or how. as long as you’re there. tell him he’s good. tell him he’s perfect. he’ll lose it.

yearner!jason todd who he always finishes with his face pressed to you. in your neck. on your chest. buried between your thighs. somewhere soft. somewhere safe( yes, your cunt is very safe for him ) .

yearner!jason todd who loves watching you cum,, multiple times. because.,,, gets so hooked. hooked on your sounds, the movement of your body, the way you moan his name as if it's the only thing you know.

yearner!jason todd who's aftercare is crazy. insane. five stars. warm towels, water, checking your skin, running a bath, walking you. he won't stop unless you make him. he needs to know you're alright. that he didn't mess it up. that you're still his. “don’t think i know how to do this” my ass.

yearner!jason todd who'll l kiss each & every mark he made. each bruise, each scratch, each hickey. mumbling little sorrys( that you are convinced he doesn't mean.. but does at the same time.. like. yeah. ) & "mine" simultaneously. it's possessive, but also very, very, gentle.

yearner!jason todd who needs touch you even afterwards. clingy. messy. burried you onto his chest, or snuggling into your arms. hand in your shirt. leg between your legs. mumbled half asleep,,, "don't leave. not yet."

yearner!jason todd who masturbates to thinking about your first time all the time. not because it was sexy ( although it was ), but because it mattered. because you made a choice.& that choice is him. he'll stroke himself slow, moaning your name into his pillow, hips jerking like he's there. & kaboom. woah.

yearner!jason todd who's an absolute menace when you’re teasing. brushing against him, wearing something skimpy, straddling him casually. he gets shaky. hard. clenches his jaw. begs with his eyes before he even opens his mouth.

yearner!jason todd who's hands tremble when he's desperate. like when it's been too long, or when you kissed him too slowly, or when he's been missing you. he'll press his forehead against yours & plead, softly, "please angel, please let me have you."

yearner!jason todd who loves, loves, loves it when you ride him. looks up at you like he's beholding a god( or zimba, your choice ). mouth open. hands on your waist. little compliments with each bounce. "that's it. fuck━━look at you. you're everything."

yearner!jason todd who groans your name when he climaxes. no censorship( lol yeah no no ). loud, oh, loud, sometimes strangled. like it's being torn from his chest. like it's the last word he'll ever speak. like he's dying again but in a good way.

yearner!jason todd who keeps something of yours in his pillowcase( with permission, of course !! actually, you gave it to him ). for nights when he can’t have you. a shirt. a scarf… your underwear. bra. sweater. something that smells like you. he presses his face to it, wraps around it like he’s holding you. sometimes he’ll jerk off holding it. sometimes he just cries.

yearner!jason todd who needs it to be about love. even when it's complicated. even when he's complicated. even when you're complicated. he'll bite your shoulder & grab your hair & swear under his breath, but he always slows down to kiss you like you saved him. ( #needthat #isthisavailableonamazon #howaboutshein #maybelazada #orshoppee )

© spcherryygirl