Tw!! Talk Of Sa

tim: did you know demon spawn still sleeps with his stuffed giraffe? damian: is that so?? well i heard you still sleep with the night light on. jason: *walking past* you're both amateurs. tim: oh yeah? and what do you sleep with? jason: y/n.

"English isn't my-"

Hush now my friend, and let me read the absolute beauty of a fic that you have bestowed this world and humiliated the first English speakers with

oh my gosh

I am in LOVE with your jason todd writing. You just write him so well 🥲

i have scoured the internet for thigh riding jason (because ya know hes KING of thunder thighs) and couldnt find a single one 😔

just thinking thots ab this mans meaty thighs and riding one

Pairing - Jason Todd X (F) Reader Words - 1.4k Warnings - SMUT 18+ - Thigh Riding - Praise!Kink - Swearing - Dirty Talk. Notes - No thoughts, just Jason Todd and his thick ass thighs. I’ve been wanting to write thigh riding for a while now so thanks my darling anon!! I hope you enjoy 😉

**

You’ve got that look in your eye again.

That one you get just before you say something that takes him to pieces–a teasing glint that flashes white hot at your pupil and spreads out like goddamn wildfire. You get a faint quirk at the edges of your mouth, a slight tug of a smirk on your lips and the sight of you, glittering and halfway to electric never fails to make his stomach drop straight through to his feet.

You’re leaning against the kitchen counter, watching attentively as he gears up for patrol. That no good look still flashes in your eye, but you manage to do a decent job of keeping it off your face–if Jason didn’t know you as well as he did, he wouldn’t know you’re about to suggest something obscene, something outlandish.

“Jason,” You almost purr, making him pause, fingers hovering over the clips to his weapons holsters. Looking up, he catches your gaze across the kitchen and swallows thickly when you hold his stare–refusing to let it go until you’ve said what you want to. “My pretty boy–”

He can’t help it, his brain short-circuits at the praise, stutters and freezes in place.

You push off the counter with an amused huff, wicked mouth twitching into a threatening grin. There's a firm confidence to the way you walk, a predator stalking prey. He knows he looks like an idiot, a deer caught in blinding headlights, but he can’t deny that you look powerful–goddamn fucking beautiful.

He thinks he might catch fire when you touch him, press your palm to his heaving, armour covered chest and shove.

You don’t stop there, you keep going, force him to backpedal until the backs of his legs nudge the sofa. You smile, smoothing your palm from his broad chest upwards, sweep your nimble fingers over the thick, fluttering vein in his neck to settle heavy along his jawline.

“Jay,” You say again, leaning in close enough to ghost your lips over his chin. “Lemme ride your thigh.”

His breath hitches in his throat.

His cock jumps.

“Sweetheart,” He tries, struggling to speak past the lump in his throat. “Baby, please. I’ve got patrol, I don’t have time.”

Your hands press insistently into his shoulders, holding him down. Jason knows he could overpower you, already has three ways planned out on how to have you flat on your back in a few blinding seconds. It wouldn’t take much. He thinks of flexing his hips and throwing you off, having you spread out underneath him, legs parted so he can slot between them and ruin you.

Jason can be patient. Can bide his time. Wait for you to have your fun and enjoy the intoxicating thrill of being in control before it takes it away again.

But he can’t quite ignore the way he fattens up in his boxers, blood rushing to his cock and making it twitch, ache, fucking throb at the sight of you.

“But Jay, your thighs are so thick. I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.” You drag the length of your pussy over his leg. He feels the heat coming off you through his tactical pants and he wants to moan. “You’re not going to deny me this, are you? I can see how hard you are.”

“Fucking shit!” Jason croaks, throwing his head back. “Are you tryin’ to kill me?”

He wants to jerk off, wants to wrap his fist around his cock and pump it hard and fast until he empties his heavy, aching balls. He wants to wrestle you off his leg and bury himself in your slink cunt, maybe teach you a damn good lesson in the process.

Pressing your hips down you rock yourself over the hard muscle and reward him with a sweet little gasp as your clit catches on the fabric. It makes him feel dizzy, almost like he’s waking up with a concussion minus the blinding pain. Grabbing you by the hips he guides you over his thigh, flexing it just right as you pass over it, dragging another quiet sound from your mouth.

“D’that again.” You whimper, fingers tightening over his broad shoulders.

Jason watches as your composure shakes–dissolves right before his eyes. Something dark fights itself awake in his gut, blinks its eyes open and starts cataloguing all the ways to recover control, slip it from your clever fingers and choke you with it.

“Do what again?” Jason grins, looking up at you and cocking his head slightly. “This?”

Flexing his thigh as you drag your wet little clit over it your breath stutters, pupils blowing out with a violent wave of lust. Jason adores that look on your face, halfway to unhinged, neck deep in desperation. He loves it even more because he put it there.

“Y-yes.” You stutter, eyes rolling back into your skull.

Settling into an easy rhythm of back and forth you make sure to catch your swollen, sticky pussy on every dip and groove of his thigh. Jason tightens his grip on your waist, forcing you to rock against him harder, faster.

“Can’t believe you’re making me late for this.” Jason mutters, pressing his mouth along your jaw. “Makin’ me late because you want to rub your greedy pussy on my thigh.”

He listens to your heart skip, memorises the frantic beat so he can replay it later when you’re worn out and sleeping. Pressing wet kisses along the hinge of your jaw he smooths his hands around your back, sweeps the pads of his fingers over your spine.

“But Jay, please.” You whine, breathless, “I’ve been wanting to do this for ages, been thinking of riding your thigh for months. They’re so fuckin’ thick.”

Jason huffs into the crook of your neck, thrusting his thigh against your cunt, “Is that so?”

“Mmhm. S’not fair having to watch you strap on those holsters, it makes ‘em look so good. The amount of times I’ve wanted to bite them–” Your words taper off into a moan, mouth parted as Jason drags his teeth over your pulse point.

“Y’should have said something sooner, sweetheart. Could’a had you cumming over ‘em like a whore before now.”

He feels your steady motions falter, posture changing ever so slightly to allow you to focus on grinding your twitching little clit against his thigh. Jason knows you’re getting close, can sense your incoming orgasm almost as well as he can sense his own. Moaning desperately your legs shake, eyelids fluttering shut as you drag yourself up to the very edge.

“Fuckin’ christ, are you gonna come?” Jason asks, already knowing the answer. “Really? From this? From rubbing yourself on my thigh?”

“Uh–shit. Yes, m’gonna come.” You whine, twisting your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. “Jay–fuck–I’m so close.”

He feels you trembling, throat working hard as you swallow and pant out whimpering whines of his name. He knows you’re a hair-trigger away from exploding, from gushing over his thigh and drenching his tactical pants. Jason knows he’ll need to change before leaving. He can’t go out with your come smeared across his thigh.

“Oh baby,” He coos against your throat, “Come for me. Be a good girl, soak my thigh.”

A silent shudder works through your body, starts at your legs and bleeds through to your fingers. Your voice shakes and cracks as you come, pussy contracting wildly against Jason's leg. Sucking a dark mark over your fluttering pulse Jason guides you through your climax, keeping the pressure on your pretty pussy until it stops twitching.

You move to pull away and swing yourself off his thigh. He knows you’re doing it to let him leave, but he’s not quite ready to let you go, still wants to prove that he’s the one in control of the situation. So Jason grabs your hips, keeps you pinned.

“I think you’ve got another in you.” He smiles, all dangerous and threatening at the edges. “M’not letting you move your wet cunt until you come again sweetheart, I’ve decided I quite like having you grinding yourself on my thigh, it’s a very pretty view.”

Your eyes widen and he sees it then, that quick flash of ‘oh fuck’ over your face. You’ve been wanting to ride his thigh for months, and Jason can’t be blamed for wanting to make up for lost time.

**

Dinner, Dinner!

—jason misses your anniversary dinner, but makes it up to you…MDNI

"Would you like to browse our dessert menu, madam?" The waiter asks in a thick French accent as he stretches his arm out to pour your second glass of wine.

Your brain is fogged as your fingers fiddle with the stem of the glass as you swirl the crimson liquid around, splashing all sides of the glass. 

"Madam?" The waiter repeats. You hadn't even realized you hadn't answered his previous question. You flick your eyes to his.

"I…um—sorry, can you repeat the question?" Your mind is clouded with a storm of fury and hurt. Jason, your boyfriend, had forgotten your anniversary dinner, leaving you to endure the sympathetic glances of strangers as they noticed the empty seat across from you.

"Of course, madam. I asked if you would like to see the dessert menu," the waiter repeats, his voice a distant echo. You turn your head to the empty seat in front of you, the thought of enduring the restaurant's atmosphere a daunting prospect. 

"Could I just have the cremé brûlée?" You finally ask, your eyes still fixed on the empty seat, your voice trembling slightly. "In a to-go box, please."

It was the first dessert you and Jason shared at this very restaurant, three years ago today. 

"Of course," the waiter said curtly, turning slightly before you raised your voice.

"And, um, could you take the other wine glass?" You awkwardly ask. He simply nods again, carefully placing the stem between his index and middle fingers upside down before turning away to tend to another table.

You should just leave.

It was clear he wasn't coming.

A light smile etched into your face as the waiter set the to-go box with the fancy dessert. You carefully reached into your purse, steadily gripping your wallet to pay. The waiters brought his hands up, shaking his head side-to-side.

"Please. No payment is necessary, madam. Enjoy the dessert," he says kindly. You sniffle, a stray tear falling down your face. You nod gently, issuing a strained, 'Thank you.'

He curtly nods, turning to go back into the kitchen. You gather your things, including the dessert, and move to walk out of the front door.

Upon stepping outside, you are met with the cold Gotham air. Your dress even sways in the wind as you walk, and your heels clank against the pavement. 

The walk home wasn't too long, maybe six minutes or so, but God, did it feel like an eternity. All you could think about was how hurt and disappointed you were and what you would say to Jason when you inevitably saw him.

Your brain tried to conjure all the reasons he didn't show.

Did he forget, or did he purposefully not come?

Now, you knew it couldn't be the latter, Jason wasn't a dick. 

He was just an idiot. 

Your thoughts continued as you stuck your key in the lock and carefully twisted it to unlock your front door, pushing it open quickly.

You set your purse down on a table next to the door, glancing at a framed photo of you and Jason happily eating ice cream on Jason's birthday last year.

You felt sick.

You quickly flick your attention away as your eyes begin to well with hot tears, easing your way into the kitchen. You stand on the cold tile for a minute before getting a sudden inspiration rush.

You didn't want to think about him any longer tonight. You'd prepare a hot tea, watch a movie, or perhaps even read a good book. 

Yes. That sounded like a fine plan.

As you were steeping the leaves in hot water, a knock on the front door pulled your attention away. You left the bag too steep and returned to the door. Pulling the door open, you were met with Red Hood—aka your boyfriend, Jason—gripping a bouquet of fresh flowers.

You're tempted to slam the door in his pretty face, but you don't—not yet, anyway.

"I'm an asshole," he says, his voice distorted from his modulator. 

The sight was ridiculous; if you weren't so pissed, you'd laugh.

He realizes the absurdity of the situation. "God damn, fuckin' helmet," he irritably gruffs, ripping off his helmet. Your eyes widen, your mouth hanging open. 

Anyone could simply walk by and figure out who the highly sought-after vigilante was.

"Jason, you can't just—get inside!" You grip his arm, dragging him inside the confines of your home—an action you immediately regret. 

"Fuck, baby," he begins. "I'm—I'm so sorry," his tone is sincere as he anxiously drags his hands through his hair. 

"I looked like an idiot, Jason," you breathe out, reaching for the bouquet of flowers he brought. 

Hell, it wasn't their fault Jason was stupid. 

"I know—" he says, following you into your kitchen as you fill a vase with water for the flowers.

"A fucking idiot," you snap, setting the flowers gently into the water. You reach for a pair of scissors. "I requested an extra wine glass when I sat down, and I had to be the one to tell him to take it away," you angrily say, snipping some of the leaves off.

"Baby, I'm really, really sorry. I got caught up with—"

"Where were you?" You set the scissors down, turning to look at him.

"Dick needed some help scouting a potential crime circuit in Blüdhaven," he sighs. "He told me it wouldn't take long. Should've known better," he wipes his hand over his face, hissing at the contact.

Your eyes sweep over his face, taking note of the fresh cuts and bruises that now taint his face. Fresh blood prickled from some; others were caked in layers of it.

"Are you hurt?" You ask, concern lacing your words.

He raises a brow. "Don't worry about me, Sweetheart. I'll be alright. I'm more concerned about you," he admits honestly. 

"You're bleeding," you observe, wincing at the sight.

"Just a hair," he lightly smiles. "I'm okay."

Sure, you were pissed at your boyfriend, but you wouldn't let him be in agony like he was. 

He was bleeding, for God's sake.

"Let me clean them up," you simply say.

"No, no. I'm fine—" he began, shaking his head lightly.

"Please," you insist.

He huffs, then accepts defeat. He takes your hand stretched out and follows you to the bathroom. He sits on the toilet as you fumble through your medicine cabinet to gather band-aids and Neosporin. 

"I hope it's okay. I, um, only have these band-aids," you awkwardly say, holding up a box with a familiar blue hero on the cover. 

"Baby, why do you have Nightwing band-aides?" He questions skeptically.

"Dick brought them to white elephant last year, and I got stuck with them," you lightly laugh. "He's a horrible gift-giver."

Jason laughs. "Promise to remind me to take them off before I leave. He cannot see me with these on. He'd have a damn field day," he grumbles as you laugh. 

"I promise I'll remind you," you affirm, pulling a small step ladder in front of him so you could sit before carefully squirting a bit of the ointment out onto your pointer finger and pressing it to each of Jason's cuts.

He barely winces or whines as you continue the action, delicately tending to each cut. His eyes wander to yours, focusing heavily with determination on what you are doing, even sticking your tongue out to concentrate. 

"I don't deserve this," he heaves as you open some band-aids.

"What? To have ten Nightwing band-aides on you all at once?" You laugh, carefully laying each of the band-aids over the cuts.

He snickers. "That and you taking care of me."

You pull back slightly. "What?"

"I ruined our anniversary tonight. I left you alone in that restaurant and, look at you, still taking care of me," he exasperates. "I don't deserve you."

You frown. "Don't say that. I mean, ya, it was shitty, but just because you did something shitty one time or even twice doesn't make you undeserving of my love, Jason," you gently say, fingers moving to caress his jaw on their own volition. 

He leans into your hand. "I just don't want to lose you. I love you."

Jason and you have exchanged hundreds, if not thousands, of "I love yous" throughout your relationship, but this one felt different. 

It felt more like a sacred prayer spilling from his lips—a tender plea from the depths of his soul. It felt all that much more divine.

You found yourself leaning to kiss his lips, your hands moving to thread through his hair. His lips instantly moved with yours, and his hand gripped your cheek.

It was a tender kiss—an 'I'm sorry,' wrapped in an 'It's okay.'

As the seconds passed, the kiss became more fervent—urgent. You even slipped off the step ladder and moved onto Jason's lap. He welcomed you with open arms, encasing you tightly with each of his hands on your hips as you straddled him.

Your hands glided through his hair messily and eagerly as his hands massaged the fat of your hips. You let out a whine that Jason catches as he slips his tongue in your mouth.

You find yourself rocking against him, desperate for friction. He groans, gripping your thighs tightly as he stands with you, guiding you towards your bedroom.

Never once did your lips disconnect.

He gently lays you on the bed as he hastily sheds his boots, armored jacket, gloves, and pants. Your breathing is labored as you follow suit, gingerly slipping off your simple black dress and kicking off your heels, revealing your matching red bra and pantie set you had worn.

Jason stands in front of you in nothing but his boxers, eyes soaking you in.

"What?" You question nervously, feeling self-conscious with his eyes so focused on you. 

"Did you—did you wear that for me?" He asks lazily.

Your lips quip. "Duh. Who else?" You giggle. "You like it?"

He lets out a dry laugh, moving to hover over your body, sticking his arm out to stabilize himself so as not to crush you. "I think I need to take a closer look," he cheekily says, moving his mouth closer to the strap of the bra, taking it between his teeth, pulling a little, then flicking it back. You let out a small whine, feeling the fabric snap back on your skin.

"Sure is sturdy," he observes, fingers coming to slip it down your shoulder. "And a nice color," he murmurs into your shoulder, sending goosebumps down your arm.

"Ya?" You idly question as his lips skim your collarbone.

"Mhm. It's very nice, Baby," he mumbles into your skin, fingers moving to skim the band of your panties. "And these," he begins. "Don't even get me started." He lightly nips your skin with his teeth, eliciting another whine. 

His fingers slip under the band, pulling them down so they sit around your lower thighs. "Ah, there she is," he coos, cupping your dripping cunt with his hand.

"Jason," you moan, pushing yourself into his hand more.

"What, Baby?" His words were low and dragged out, almost breathy.

"I—I need more," you groan, hand moving to rest on his hand on you, encouraging more movement from him. 

"I'll do you one better," he takes his hand away, making you frown, though he moves to slip his boxers down, showcasing his erect cock. 

He strokes himself once before guiding himself into your entrance, leaning down to kiss your temple lightly as he pushes himself inside your cunt. You hiss at the contact, gripping his shoulders tightly.

He groans as one of his hands comes to grip behind your neck, and the other moves to lift your leg up slightly so he can grip your thigh, giving a better angle as he moves at a consistent pace.

A desperate mewl escapes your mouth as his pace fastens. Jason's hand has moved to rest on your breast in your bra as he throws his head back, groaning and spewing curses.

You sit up slightly, gripping his neck, pulling him down to your lips. He kisses you roughly, even sucking your bottom lip in the process. You bring your leg up to wrap around his torso, pushing him even more deeply; he groans as his hand slides to grip the hinge of your leg.

"Jay, I'm gonna—" You begin breathlessly.

"I know, Baby. I know," he purrs into your mouth. "Feel so good."

You grip his neck tighter, lips pressing into his shakily, as you feel yourself tighten around him. All you have had to do was moan his name into his mouth to have him following suit, even moving one hand to grip the sheets beneath as he comes.

You're both gasping for air. Jason eases himself out of you and plops beside you, pulling you close so your face rests on his chest.

"As far as orgasms go, that one was great," you pant, fingers moving to trace the lines between Jason's abs.

"Ya? Do I get a golden star?" He tuts, fingers playing with your hair.

"Sorry, Babe. I only give golden stars for extra credit," you jest, looking up at him.

"Extra credit, you say?" He asks, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. "I think I can do that." He lifts up abruptly, getting off the bed.

"What're you—" You begin to question before he's tugging you towards him by your ankles, planting his face in between your legs.

"Jay!" You shriek, though make no effort to move as his tongue lapses at your sensitive clit.

"I really want that golden star," he mumbles into you.

a/n: finally finished this fic that has been haunting my drafts for months upon months ( ͡ಥ ͜ʖ ͡ಥ)

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

Keep It Down

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: Trying to not wake anyone up while staying over for the holidays…

Warnings: Intense feels, trying to stay quiet, hand over mouth, Smut 18+, literally just pp in vv moment, petnames (Ma (ofc, this is Jaybird we’re talkin’ about), baby), crying but…in the hot way?, obsessed with this concept ngl. Yes, I got lazy at the end, don’t judge.. :(

Word count: 1k

======

It was all quiet pants and silent tears. 

The holidays had rolled around and the two of you were staying at Wayne Manor for the week. A classic Gotham storm raged outside, snow gently falling as lightning flashed through the closed curtains of Jason’s room. Thunder shook the house, momentarily deafening what was happening. 

You and Jason were always recklessly in love. So, no wonder you couldn’t keep your hands to yourselves for more than a day. The only problem was volume. And shit, could Jason make you lose your voice moaning and crying out his name. On the other hand, it would be sucky to be caught by one of his brothers, let alone Alfred or Bruce… 

“Gotta stay quiet, baby.. Can you do that for me?” Was what he murmured in your ear before you got started. 

He was slow, loving with his slow but deep thrusts. His dick hitting that spot within you that made your back arch and nails drag down his back, leaving angry red streaks in their wake. Fuck, he knew how to make your head spin. 

Tears streaked down your cheeks, shallow breaths leaving your parted lips. Jason ate it up, kissing and nipping along your neck. Tasting your skin and groaning into your neck to keep his own noises to a minimum. Calloused hands gripping your thighs to haul them up around his waist to get a better angle. The whine you let out was quickly muffled by his lips capturing yours in a deep kiss. “Shhh.. I know, ma, I know..” He mumbled against your mouth. 

As he had your lips captured, his hands moved up. Pulling you up into an arch by your waist before wrapping his arms around. Shoving his arms between you and the bed. Chest to chest, arms hugging your middle like he was scared you’d slip away. When he finally pulled away to breathe, his forehead dropped to your shoulder. Hot breath fanning across your skin making a shiver run up your spine. 

“Oh shit…” You breathed, hand coming up to drag through his dark hair. Gripping with shaky fingers, lightly tugging, making Jason practically growl into your skin. Brows pinched in pleasure as tears fell back into your hairline. Every roll of his hips takes your breath away and makes you tremble. His fingers dug into your back as he squeezed you tighter. 

Fire.. that's what you felt. Crawling beneath your skin, licking at your core making your stomach flip. Pushing you closer and closer to your high with every thrust, sharp breath, and moan. Trying to keep quiet. Desperately. But it was so difficult with how overwhelming it was. The thrill of accidentally being too loud. Passionate tenderness that made your head spin and tears prick your eyes. In a vulnerable state of intense pleasure and connection. All while your loving boyfriend whispered sweet nothings into your skin. “That’s it, ma..I’ve got you.. Just let go, I’ve got you..” 

Flushed and blissed out, your head pressed back to the pillows. Whimpering an, “Oh my god..” into the darkness of the room. Maybe a little too loud than you should’ve… 

Jason was quick to remedy your loss of volume control. His hand coming up to cover your mouth, his other arm still securely holding you to him. While he loved how wrecked you sounded, he didn’t want to get caught..You breathed harshly through your nose as you let out a ragged moan that got muffled by his palm. “Baby, baby.. Gotta keep it down..” He murmured, voice laced with desire.

Despite his words, he picked up the pace a little, rocking against you with more intensity. Hitting harder, somehow it felt deeper too. Eyes squeezed shut as you tried to focus on your pleasure and keep your moans down. 

Pressing closer, practically suffocating you with his weight. Draping himself over you like a protective blanket made up of over two hundred pounds of muscle. His hand left your mouth to grip the pillow next to your head. His head dropping once more, groaning right into your ear. “C’mon, ma..” You were so close…

You choked and pressed your face to his neck. Letting out a strangle moan you muffle against his skin. Finally reaching that peak. It wasn’t fast and strong like it usually would be. The kind that would have you moaning shamelessly and crying out his name. No.. This twisted your spine and burned through your veins. Making you choke on your own air and hold your breath. Crashing over your body like waves on an ocean shore. Tensing as you gripped him where you could. Pawing desperately at his skin for purchase as fat tears rolled down your cheeks. 

Then you let out a sob of raw pleasure, still muffled against his skin. Shaking as you rode out your high. Thighs trembling around his waist as your body pulsed with the aftershocks. He slowed down for a moment, cooing softly in your ear and pressing kisses to your tear-stained cheeks as he helped you ride out your orgasm. 

When you finally calmed down enough, he took your chin in hand, “Yeah..?” He mumbled to you. Seeking permission, seeing if he could be selfish now. Chase his pleasure. All you could do was tighten your legs around his waist again and nod weakly. Arms pulling him closer once more. “Yeah..” He quickly sought out your lips, locking you in a deep and needy kiss as he picked up the pace again. 

Panting and pressing as deep as he could. His groans went straight into your mouth as he chased his release. He wasn’t far behind. His hips stuttered before he let out a strangled moan, “Baby..” he grumbled against your lips. Giving a few short thrusts as he finished. Jason finally broke the kiss with a heavy sigh. A string of saliva connected you still before he licked his lips. “Fuck, you did so good for me..” He praised softly as he caressed your cheek. Thumbs wiping away the tears. 

“Fuck yeah, I did..” You gave a tired smirk. He paused before he gave a slow smirk of his own. 

“As if, you were loud as hell.”

“Shut up…”

oh my gosh

World’s Greatest Detective

Title: World’s Greatest Detective Rating: Explicit Pairing: Bruce Wayne/reader Word Count: 2519 Warnings: Sex in the batsuit, oral…. playful interrogation? Summary: You’re hiding something from Bruce, and he’s going to find out what.  One way or another. Author’s Note: As usual, this is in no particular universe.

Keep reading

rafe and best friend reader’s playful banter, is everything…

lots of wrestling… at first he was so scared to hurt you. you were so delicate and he knows how aggressive he can be. but after enough tugging at his arm, even daring to antagonize him after you’ve seen his worst… “oh, okay. you’re asking for it now… it’s fucking on.”

a girl giving you guys a weird glare after pulling on each others arms and not sure if she should be concerned … topper having to explain “oh you’re new here. they’re just playing. they do that. he will let her win in like, 60 seconds max…”

yelping out “ouch” to make him stop in his tracks, just to laugh at how fast his eyes filled with worry … “aw, see you do love me rafey” you’d tease, only to get pinned back down. “was gonna let you win but now you’re absolutely fucked.” “promise?”

your friends sometimes can’t make out if you’re rough playing or fucking in the other room, and honestly neither surprise them.

playful bickering about literally everything… “i don’t think tomatoes should be a fruit.” “rafe, the fuck do you know about fruits?”

“i just love to push your buttons.” “i’m going to push you off a literal bridge if you keep this up, rafe.”

the dumbest inside jokes ever… enough said.

rafe’s dark humor is wild… “that’s not fucking funny, rafe. cut it out.” with proceeded awkward silence until you can’t help but break laughing.

calling him daddy in public just to fuck with him: both to embarrass him and enjoying turning him on. being in a public shop, “daddy, can i get this?” “y/n, shut the fuck—“ “please daddy.”

and of COURSE sarcastic jokes to make each other jealous…

“do you think that guy is into me?” “a knife is about to be if you don’t shut the fuck up about it.” “… is that a no?”

posting drunk videos & photos of you on his story because he genuinely thinks you’re adorable, but loves to watch you fight him for his phone to delete it… “i swear to god. delete me looking like a fucking minion right now–” “that’s one hot minion.”

and your favorite insult for him. “it’s giving… pogue.” “oh, i’m absolutely going to fuckin’ kill you in your sleep.”

f!reader

Reader who always wear a mask, and was more secretive than Ghost who had no problem showing his face to the team once in a while.

And just like with Ghost, the others joked about you being ugly, which you similarly replied with confidence that's not the case.

When you were tired of keep getting questions about the mask, you'd respond with a joke.

Putting on your best act, you sighed with a solemn look, telling a story about how you used to be obsessed with Shrek and had him tattooed on your face, which you were ashamed of now.

"..Are you serious?" Kyle asked.

You simply shrugged "I guess you'll never know".

And they could never guess whether you were lying or not, being known as the master of psychological warfare and often sent for espionage because of your skill with people, manipulation.

And acting.

What they didn't know is that, you gained that skill from your previous job, when you were a big deal in the entertainment industry. A professional actress that started in many movies and got into a really big scandal that got you hiding.

And somehow ended up here.

That was the reason as to why you needed to hide your face, your identity. Not even your captain knows about it, only Laswell who knew a bit of your story.

Lounging around in the recroom, you silently observed the others arguing about a certain movie to watch before it somehow ended with them fanboying for a certain actress who played the main character.

You.

"Ah swear, Ah saw this porn where the lass looked just like her. Had folk arguin’ if it was really her or just a doppelganger… haud on, where is it—" You heard Johnny rambled as he fumbled with his phone.

You shifted in your seat and hid a smille.

Oh yeah, that side gig you took a long time ago.. almost forgot about that

Dropping this idea before class so i wont forget abt it

↳ ageless/blank blogs dni

18+ content, scent kink (?), lots of tension, pussy eating devouring, vaginal sex

thinking about jason todd losing his fucking mind when you buy that pheromone oil and he just has to act like he doesn’t wanna fuck you all the way up. you’d drag him to the mall after applying it, hiding the little bottle before you left. he gets an immediate whiff of it after you settle behind him on his bike, already clinging to his jacket and he’s tempted to reposition and fuck you right there.

and of course it’s a bit busy today, so he’s got no choice but to stay attached at the hip. he’d lean down quite a ways to speak to you whenever it’s crowded, like he always does. but there’s no way you could miss the way he lingers by you, back hunched over as his hands move from his pockets to your waist to get you unreasonably closer.

jason todd who hovers over you the whole time, joining you in the dressing rooms and ignoring your half-assed order to wait. there isn’t much to stop him from following, given he’s 6’1” with over 200 pounds of muscle and all that. slipping off your clothes makes it all the worse, but he still sits back and watches. you’ve got him distracted, eyeing at your ass while you get jeans on and nearly missing when you toss them for him to keep a hold of. if you hadn’t known any better you’d say his eyes are practically growing green, like he’s straight out of the pits and starving. by now he’s got a good idea of what you’ve done- not that it’d deter him or have him upset. he’s just been caught terribly off guard by it, which was the point.

you try to head out once you’re done and a startling grip on your shoulder twists you around. a quick peck on your lips, then your cheek, followed by a roughly contrasting bite into your neck has you gasping between him and the flimsy door. you’ve damned him to no little self control during this little escapade and have the nerve to be scolding him now, leaving him grumbling in frustration and prying himself away- not before leaving a dangerously bright hickey just above your collarbone, of course. lots more where that came from, he’d tell you, since you wanna act all high and mighty like you’ve never let him fuck you in similar spaces before.

jason todd who’d damn near break the handles of his motorcycle, taking risky short cuts and speeds you’ve never seen before, at least not while you were on board. in his defense, you’ve decided to sit in front of him now, plump ass all up against his crotch and v-neck traveling low between the valley of your chest. fucking vixen, he’d mutter, adding more bruises along your neck as you fumble with keys.

he’s impatient and agitated that you’d do this to him. jason’s never felt so hungry, so insane over something in a long ass time, much less you. poor guy doesn’t even realize he’s trapped you between himself and the door again, only making it harder to get the door open. even so he’s rushing you, gravelly voice against your ear telling you to get the damn door open- ‘less you wanna put on a show for anyone other than me.

and now jason todd’s got you right where he wants you, not wasting another moment without shoving you back up against the door. he’s finally got you and he can’t even decide how he wants you, but he settles on the scent that’s driving him insane and it becomes clear. jason’s tearing clothes off and groping at every inch of you before he kneels and secures your legs over his bulky shoulders. he wants- needs to eat you. absolutely fucking devour you.

gonna eat this pussy til you can’t fuckin’ think, he’s already moaning, sucking at your thigh and pulling your panties to the side. and to think you even had the nerve to try stopping him- a deep laugh vibrates against your core and you head thumps against the wood behind you. thick fingers prod at your hole and curl up inside as he’s lapping and sucking at your clit, groaning against your cunt for what feels like hours.

you’d think he’s done when he finally pulls away and you wobble on weak legs, only for jason to drag and bend you over the arm of the couch. nah- we’re far from done here, he says while stretching you out, burying your face into the cushion and arching your back until your feet hang over. I’d be wrong to leave this cunt all empty and aching, wouldn’t I? even after at least… three orgasms? the girth and overstimulation has you crying, clutching the fabric and mewling when the fat head of his cock pistons into that sweet spot over and over. greedy fuckin’ pussy just suckin’ me in- goddamn. maybe you should keep using this pheromone shit- since it’s got you just as worked up. ❧

I feel like boyfriend!jason would love watching you do your nightly routine, specifically when you go about your skincare.

He’ll lean on the doorway, broad arms crossed and bulging against his tee. His plump lips curl into a tiny smile as he watches your reflection in the mirror.

After cleansing, you apply your lengthy lineup of serums and toners. You didn’t use them every night, but every so often you’d go all out. Jason’s emerald eyes glint with a look of fascination. He adored seeing your natural, stripped-down self; a version of you not many people got to see. He felt special that he got to.

Jason may have been a bit obsessive with making sure you were taken care of. So he loved to see you taking some time to pamper yourself with your little skincare routine.

“You takin’ care of that pretty face, baby?” He pushes off the doorway and moves behind you. You feel his large hands slide up your arms to rest on your shoulders. Jason starts gently massaging, thumbs pressing into your muscles.

You sigh at the comforting sensation, and meet his gaze in the mirror. You can’t help but smile. “Mhm. You like watching?”

“You know I do. Love seeing you spending time on yourself..” He pecks a kiss to the top of your head. “Look at you, you’re glowing.” He trails kisses down your neck and you squirm in delight, his lips tickling your skin.

“Jason!” You squeal. He pulls back reluctantly, going back to watching you with a smile of content.

As you finish up your routine, a sudden idea pops into your head. You turn to face Jason with an excited grin.

“Can I use my skincare on you?”

Jason watches your eyes light up at the idea, and immediately he’s fucked. He can’t say no to you.

He laughs, “Why not.”

You’re then perched up on the counter, preparing your favorite hydrating serum and moisturizer for Jason. He stood in front of you, hands instinctively resting on your thighs as you lifted the dropper of the serum. Jason’s whole body relaxed, eyes fluttering shut, feeling you gently work the serum into his skin.

“Mm.. feels good, sweetheart.” He hums gently, opening his eyes for a second to look at you before closing them again.

Your fingers worked in circular motions as you went in with the moisturizer, being careful around any newer scars.

Jason’s heart swelled with emotion, skin tingling where you touched him so tenderly. Nobody ever went out of their way to care for him like you did. He felt he didn’t deserve you. You were too good—too sweet.

He was always so worried about making sure you were cared for, he sometimes neglected his own needs. But, you were always right there to remind him he deserved love and care too.

Under his closed lids, Jason felt his eyes water at the thought.

He knew right then—he was never letting you go.