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#dc x fem!reader
indulgentdaydream · 2 months
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Bliss and Misery
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Dad!Jason Todd x Fem!Mom!Reader || Angst; Hurt/No Comfort || Word Count: 1,643
Warnings: dead dove.
i know how much you guys love my domestic!jason fics :3 so here's this one that's been bouncing around in my mind:
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The morning sun stretched its fingers, slowly finding its way centimetre by centimetre in order to reach into the small apartment bedroom. The soft warmth spread over Jason's face, giving him a slow and subtle wake-up call.
Jason almost doesn't want to wake up. The plush covers are pulled up to his shoulders. One arm lays over his stomach, resting against the cotton fabric. The other stuffed underneath the pillow, beside his head. He hasn't even opened his eyes yet, but he can feel your presence beside him.
Slowly, he blinks, adjusting to the daylight. He pulls his hand out from under the pillow and runs it across his face. He vaguely remembered something about needing to be up for something. Something about helping Dick with something or another.
He turned his head to the left and all possible worries about sleeping vanished when his eyes found you.
Jason couldn't help but smile. The sight of his girl curled up in the sheets beside him making him feel warmer than the sun ever could. You looked as completely at peace as he felt in the moment. The sunlight stretched over you, as well, illuminating every feature of yours. All of which he loved without a second thought.
Loved as if it was second nature.
As if it was breathing itself.
Here, with the comforter pulled up to your chin, face squished against the pillow, and a small pile of dried drool forming on it, you were safe. He was safe.
You were safe and he was safe and this was everything he had ever wanted to give you.
Peace. Safety. Comfortability.
Love.
He takes the hand resting across his stomach and reaches out to you. There was a stray lock that had fallen out of place. He wanted to fix it for you before it could wake you out of annoyance.
Then he heard the quick padding of feet coming down the hallway.
It filters in through the bedroom door, left open a crack, getting louder with each little slap of a bare foot rushing down the hall. Jason smiles at the sound.
Obviously, he's not the only one awake.
From where he's laying, Jason can only see the top of the door. He listens as the padding feet stop right outside of it, before it begins to slowly creak open. Jason pushes up onto his elbows to get a better look.
There's a small face poking their head around the door, a curious look on their face as they peer up at the bed, trying to determine if their parents are awake. As soon as Jason's head comes up into their view, a large, bright, slightly toothy smile spreads across their whole face.
Jason holds a finger to his lips as your shared toddler pushes the door open the rest of the way. Luckily, it doesn't bang loud enough to wake you up.
"Come to my side," Jason whispers.
The sound of quick padding feet picks up again. Jason lays his head back against his pillow. He gets a second more of peace before there's a small head, covered with dense, black curls, that's appearing next to him, barely visible over the edge of the bed. Next, there's tiny hands. They're reaching up and gripping at the blanket, attempting to pull themself up, only to no avail.
Jason turns and reaches down. He lifts them up with no effort, sitting them onto his chest. His voice is groggy, still full of sleep, as he whispers "Hiya, baby."
A fit of giggles rings throughout the room. His baby leans forward. Two hands settle on either side of Jason's cheeks. His baby grins at him still, two eyes staring into his own, matching ones, and matches his whisper, "Daddy."
Jason chuckles to himself. He gently grabs his toddler's hands, pressing kisses and pretending to nibble on the little, pudgy fingers.
Another round of giggles sound out, a bit louder than before.
You shuffle in your sleep, a small puff of air leaving your lips. The movement grabs the attention of both your baby and your husband.
Your baby flops down, suddenly, off of Jason's chest. They land between you two, on the mattress. One pudgy hand is pushing themself up, the other reaching out to your face, instead. Their whispering voice calls out, "Mommy!"
Jason turns onto his side, facing you, and pulls them back. He gently holds them to his chest with an arm around them, “Shhh," He whispers into their ear, "Mommy’s sleeping.”
"Mommy s'eeping.”
Jason laughs quietly smiling as their baby looks back up at him with that same, bright grin. They look up at him with your eyes, before looking back at you.
...
Your eyes?
Jason shuffles lower in the bed, putting his face next to his baby’s. All four of their eyes are focused on you.
“Isn’t she so pretty?" He whispers, "Look at how pretty Mommy is.”
You look so peaceful. So cozy. So beautiful. With the blanket wrapped around you, your limbs comfortably spread out. Your entire life right in front of you, yet you were blissfully unaware.
“Pretty,” Their baby whispers.
Jason grins, patting their stomach, “Yes. She’s very pretty isn’t she?” Jason lets go of their baby, “Go wake her up.”
Their baby squeals out a fit of giggles again. They immediately crawl forward between the small space. Their hands come down quick, making Jason flinch in preparation for the accidental blow, but they land gently on your face. Their lips come down to messily kiss your closed eyelid.
“Mommy,” they whisper loudly.
You let out a small groan. Your baby grins, gently patting your cheek. You peer one eye open, "What is it?"
Jason grins wide, his hand coming over to smooth over your upper arm through the blanket, “The wake up call came in.”
Their baby sat back on the mattress as you lifted your head, “So you were the first victim," your eyes squinted at the morning light coming in through the window behind Jason, "and you just let ‘em continue their rampage?”
Their baby scoots down to lay between their parents, their face level between theirs, still smiling and happy as could be.
“I was already awake,” Jason smiles, “I let you have five more minutes before the attack began.”
You hum, closing your eyes again, "What a gentleman."
“Mommmmy,” your baby dragged out the word, their little hand reaching out and touching your cheek.
You hum and peak an eye open again, “I’m awake, darling.”
Jason chuckles and leans over, “You better be. We’ve obviously slept in enough according to the little one."
You let out a small laugh. He presses a light kiss to your lips.
A small squeal sounds.
Jason looks down at the look of betrayal on their toddler’s face. Their little hands raise up in question. It makes him laugh wholeheartedly.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he leans back down to the toddler instead. You're laughing with him, “Are you feeling left out?”
Jason kisses their cheek. You lean in and kiss their other cheek.
Jason looks back at you, a warm smile on his face. He begins to reach his hand out to cup your face.
His phone starts to ring.
He frowns. You aren't reacting. Neither is your toddler.
His hand hits the pillow where your head should be.
The sheets are cold.
The room is dark. It’s the middle of the night.
There’s no one in front of him. It’s just him in his empty, cold, uncomfortable bed.
There's no warmth. No sunlight. No comfortable blanket. No padding little feet.
No you.
He sits up, throwing his feet over the side of the bed, tossing the covers off of himself. He rubs a hand over his face. One glance at his phone shows that it’s Dick calling. No chance he’s picking up.
Not now.
Jason holds his head in his hands.
Why did he ever break up with you?
To protect you from himself, of course. All he had wanted to give you.
Peace. Safety. Comfortability.
and...
Love.
The phone stopped ringing. A moment later, it started up again.
His life is dangerous. He was dragging you down. You were better off without him. You had the chance to choose a different path than he had.
A path that lowered your chance of sudden death just by association.
But… if that’s the life that he could’ve had with you… a life he hadn’t fully considered himself ever being able to have…
God.
Why did he ever leave?
The sight of that little smile, held in his arms, lit up by the morning light, made his stomach churn so violently he almost darted to the bathroom.
What would their name have been? He didn't know the gender in the dream.
He would have let you name them. He was never good with names.
He thought back on their eyes. He would have wanted them to have your eyes. He would have wanted them to have every single one of your features. It was always easier to those who were as gorgeous as you. Even if you rarely believed him when he tried to convince you that you are.
The phone stopped ringing again.
A text came through. You promised.
Yeah, The image of you laying in the bed, your toddler laying beside you, both smiling up at him, flashed through Jason's mind, I did promise her, didn't I?
Jason lifts his head, shaking it a little to clear his thoughts.
He had made his bed, and now he was laying in it. And it wasn't the one that had you and your shared child in it.
He picked up the phone, cleared his throat, and redialed.
He ignored the tears still falling down his face.
And the sight of your contact that was still favourited.
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my bad guys I was in a mood...
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mattmvrdockbabe · 1 year
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𝑺𝑼𝑵𝑮𝑳𝑨𝑺𝑺𝑬𝑺
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DAMIAN WAYNE X READER
WARNINGS: NONE.
He hated you.. No he despised you! You would always speak to him in such a soft voice that could brighten someone's day in an instant and he hated it.
It wasn’t just that, he also hated the way you complimented his art. Even if you saw it for a split second you always said how beautiful it looked.
He hated the way you laugh. He hated that you helped people whether they deserved to be helped or not.
He hated the way you dressed. He hated the way you skipped down the hall. And he hated the way you wore those stupid sunglasses.
He especially hated the way you wore those stupid sunglasses. It didn’t matter if it was dark and gloomy outside, you always wore those stupid sunglasses.
Those stupid red heart shaped sunglasses that everybody seemed to love but him. He didn’t see the point in them, you spent most of your time indoors there was no reason for you to wear them but you did.
And they way you looked in them, you looked so-
“Damian? Are you alright? You’ve been staring at that patch of grass for almost ten minutes already,” A soft voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
He was currently sitting down in the grass, his back pressed up against a tree and his sketchbook in his lap. He was currently waiting for the bell to ring so that the next period could begin.
He didn’t need to look up to know who it was. He knew it was you but still he couldn’t help sparing you a glance.
There you were, wearing your uniform attire, your arms behind your back waiting for an answer, he looked up and saw you had a small smile on your face and you were wearing those stupid red heart shaped sunglasses.
When he didn’t answer you sat down beside him with an even bigger smile on your face. “You seem kinda down.. You need something to cheer you up. How about I show you what cheers me up when I'm down.”
“And what exactly would that be?” He finally spoke up. Normally he would scoff and tell whoever was bothering him to leave, but for some odd reason when wanted you to stay.
He watched as your hands reached up to your heart shaped glasses and you took them off. Before he could blink you placed the sunglasses on him and his cheeks slowly started to match the color of the sunglasses.
You let out a small laugh that he loved, hated so much. Finally as you regained yourself you gave him a small smile, “Now, I will allow you to keep those glasses until the end of the day, but please be careful those are my favorite.”
He nodded, not knowing what to say. You let out a small giggle before leaning forward and placing a kiss on his cheeks.
If they weren’t red before they definitely were now. And with that you stood up and left him alone.
His hand slowly reached up to the sunglasses and he pulled them away from his face. Maybe the sunglasses weren’t so bad.
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hunterbunter3000 · 1 year
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° ♡ Masterlist ♡ °
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✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧
(More coming soon!)
Inconsistency is a little cyst on my chest that I can't seem to pop 💀 so please be patient with me!
Main Blog.: Zittles3000 (where I post my art and take commissions!)
°.Reader will always be black and female unless specified.°
~ I only take requests for 141 Sweetheart. Do not send any other requests, they will be deleted. ~
╔ Please be 18 years or older to interact with my writing. Minors and ageless blogs do NOT interact or follow my blog. You will be blocked. ╗
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°.Call of Duty.°
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All 141 Sweetheart content is in the hashtag.:
#141 sweetheart
A detailed fem!black!reader insert in call of duty modern warfare 2. Basically, all the men are in love with her and I write scenarios about her and answer asks!
Moodboards of Sweetheart ♡ ☆
Fanarts of 141Sweetheart.:
Made by @moth-in-a-mason-jar
Made by @gamersansblog
Boyfriend!au Fic.: (coming soon!)
Where Sweetheart meets and gets a boyfriend.
°.Simon "Ghost" Riley.°
✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧
• Ghost Drabble // smut 18+
Ghost has a wet dream about you. // Gn!reader
°.Johnny "Soap" Mactavish.°
✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧
• Capitan and Sergeant // smut 18+
Sergeant Soap and Capitan Mactavish have a go at you. // ??reader
(Coming Soon!)
°.Kyle "Gaz" Garrick.°
✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧
°.Capitan John Price.°
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°.König.°
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• König drabble // smut 18+
You're cockwarming König while doing your makeup. // Gn!reader
°.Horangi.°
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°.Alex Keller.°
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°.Gary "Roach" Sanderson.°
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☆.。.:* Task Force 141 .。.:*☆
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• Aggressive Lovin' // fluff
You show how much you miss your boyfriend. Task Force 141 + König // Gn!reader
• BloodWood.° // reverse harem, action 18+
A new member is added to the Task Force 141 without Price's permission. Weird and mysterious, Callsign "Cedar", the tall mercenary helps the team take down an uprising terrorist group and it's leader, unraveling her past and stealing some hearts along the way. (Coming Soon!)
Tags will be mentioned in each chapter!
Chapters.: Prologue. One. Two. Three.
°.Philip Graves.°
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• Schrei nach mir, meine kleine Göttin // smut 18+
Krueger finally gets a taste of Sweetheart. Black!fem!reader
Coming soon!
°.Alejandro Vargas.°
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°.Rodolfo Parra.°
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°.Keegan P. Russ.°
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°.One Shots.°
──●◎●──
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°.Anime.°
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My Hero Academia.:
(None yet)
One Piece.:
• Priest!Sanji // NSFW 18+
Small headcanon/drabble of Priest!Sanji and Baker's daughter!reader // black!fem!reader (coming soon!)
Fairy Tail.:
(None yet)
Trigun.:
(None yet)
Haikyuu.:
(None yet)
Houseki no Kuni.:
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°.One Shots.°
──●◎●──
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°.Monster Fucking.°
°Tingz.°
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◇. Collections of Dynasties .◇
°.CoD modern warfare monster!au.°
──●◎●──
Dragon Dynasty.: Dragon King! John Price
The Allience 18+ smut, fantasy, action
Pairing: Dragon King!Price × Knight!black!fem reader
(Coming soon)
Ogre Dynasty.: Ogre Leader! Johnny Mactavish
Pairing: Ogre Leader!Mactavish × Asassin!black!fem reader
(None yet)
Lycan Dynasty.: Werewolf King! Kyle Garrick
Pairing: Werewolf King!Garrick × WitchDoctor!black!fem reader
(None yet)
Hellish Dynasty.: Demon King! Simon Riley
Pairing: Demon King!Ghost × Human!black!fem reader
(None yet)
°.One Shots.°
──●◎●──
None yet
°.Marvel.°
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°.Webcomics.°
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True Education.:
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Viral Hit.:
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Solo Leveling.:
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°.Stranger Things.°
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°. DC Comics.°
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My Crazy F**king Ideas.:
I usually get these at night when my imagination goes wild. This will be a mixture of Fandom and my own imagines!
(None yet)
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greeniegreengreen · 8 months
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No because this hit me randomly while trying to complete my assignments and I wanna get out as much as I can before it disappears into the "I really should've written that down void"
Jason Todd x Reader
Duke Thomas x Reader
TO THE PEOPLE WHO DID PUT IN ASKS, THEY'LL BE DONE AND POSTED AS SOON AS I SUBMIT(hopefully tomorrow, Sunday, midday latest) Y'all put in some good shit for me to write and I actually wanna get it out proper instead of just drabbling it out in a rush - unless that's what you want
ANYWAYS BACK TO MY THOTS - well more like the one’s reader gone be looking into >:]
SUGGESTIVE = +18, MDNI
Word Count: IDK,,,just words enough to try and clear this out my system
Didn't have a set gender in mind so it can be Female/Male/Gender Neutral,,however you choose to perceive it.
For as long as you can remember, you have always been able to read people’s thoughts and feelings. Heck if you focused with little effort on a person you’d be able to see into their minds and get an exact picture of what was in there.
That little what you called a cheat is what helped you become one of the best Interior Designers in Gotham. You were able to get exactly what a client wanted and they absolutely loved you for that, not knowing any better of course.
Of course with such rising popularity the Wayne Family had to have to redesign a few spaces for them, be it at the Manor, Tower or any holiday homes that they felt needed a change.
With your budding romance towards a specific family member comes very specific thoughts and crafted images every time you seem to be alone together.
JASON
Why would you be seeing the kitchen? As you kept focused on what seemed to be a memory from when Bruce had hired you to work on the kitchen with Alfred taking the lead on the project as it was his space more than anyone else's. It seemed he remembered the exact outfit you had on that day too. A simple beige tee tucked in baggy pale blue jeans and grey converses to finish the look. Put together but not too stuffy. You stood right by the island with a pencil between your teeth and a large sheet of paper laid out in front of you. You had been looing at the most recent layout of the kitchen to give you an idea of how to play around with how everything was set. Alfred from the looks of things wanted it to be more effective but gain a more polished look.
Jason's obsession with literature was no secret to anybody who lived in the Manor so it was no surprise when he had called you in to take a look at the ever aging library. After seeing how you had set the kitchen per Alfred's request he was eager to have you work on it.
You had come in on day one wearing your beige blouse jumpsuit to discuss and get a general idea of what he wanted to get done. The mention of trying to fit more books in didn't sound as impossible as he had hoped. It was just a matter of using the pre-exisiting infrastructure to your advantage while adding new bits and bobs to reach the idea he had in mind.
On day two you had brought in your iPad and pencil to scribble some potential sketches that you were sure Jason would love from what you looked into the day before. With him now browsing at the layout options, you were sat across from him on a what had to be a Baltimora Bespoke Rococo sofa in a pale yellow eyeing his every move. He was very good looking, the white streak in his black hair brought out the evergreen in his eyes that shone a dark blue when the light hit them right. Build quite big and towering compared to you, it was a little daunting yet alluring when he looked down on you with a slight tilt of his head however sitting down even though he did still surpass you in height you would be able to maintain eye contact without feeling a type of way. He seemed to be taking his time with his choice so a little peak into his mind wouldn't be a bother.
The kitchen?
With your mind somewhere else you had not noticed him coming into the kitchen until he had made his way behind you to get to the fridge, leaving out a barely audible excuse me.
His failed attempt at pardoning himself had caused you to turn right as he tried to get past you. A trip in your feet at both shock of someone else being in the kitchen and bumping into them almost caused you to fall.
Jason had caught you right by your waist, grip tight and pulling you close to try and keep you both steady. You hands crunching up into the front of his shirt as this was the first thing you had grabbed. He at that moment was trying to calm his breathe as he was sure with how close your hands were to his chest that you could feel his increasing heartbeat. He'd seen you before on magazines and interviews, a few times around the Manor too but this was the first time he was able to meet you in person. Much less this up close. You were quite attractive and that didn't make this situation any better. You had looked up in that moment and by the widening of your eyes it seemed as if you had just understood who exactly you bumped into.
What felt like minutes on the day, moved by within seconds of you two removing each other from the other from the looks of the memory. Your hands sliding down his chest swiftly while his had taken a rather unhurried path to your waist before letting go completely.
You remember that day very well. You were too flustered by everything that you never ever tried to look into what he thought of the entire thing before apologising and resuming what you were planning on doing.
As much as you remember the memory stopped there, but his didn't?
He put in something.
Instead of his hands fully leaving your hips he had used his grip to pull you closer to his heating body. A small gasp escaping your lips at the surprise of the action.
He walked you backwards towards the island making sure you didn't hit the edge harshly. Before bringing up his right hand to place right by your throat keeping his eyes on yours. The gap closing between the two of you before lips met right in the middle. A kiss one that was filled with curiosity and excitement dragged on in his mind.
His hands coming to lift you so that you were sat on the counter, the perfect height for him to lean his hips into your open legs properly.
He let out a small grunt of the word, "Fuck."
You let out a small whimper before pulling away from the memory completely. Wanting to focus on the current moment.
"Everything alright?" Jason asked in a worried tone at the sudden sound.
"Dandy." You gave a small smile trying to brush off what you just saw.
DUKE
You and Duke got along. A little too well one would say. After meeting at a gala Bruce had hired you to furnish which lead to an invitation to the event, you had gotten closer each day.
Duke enjoyed the conversations he had with you about anything and nothing whereas you enjoyed the change of pace of things. It all felt nice and mundane outside of being able to read people's minds and being a vigilante.
Your most favourite things to do was watch cringe level rom-coms. What was better than being able to sit in front of the in-house theater with all your favourite snacks and foods, a blanket and pillows that created a plush nest of sorts for you too. Every Tuesday night, as random as the day seemed it worked perfectly. Dick was on night shift, Tim barely left the office on weekends much less weekdays and nights, Damian was always quick to disappear to the Batcave (Duke would just say he was in "bed") Bruce would end up holed in his study with lord knows what, Jason hadn't been home in 4 months after deciding he needed his own space and going back to his apartment and Alfred always excused himself early on Tuesday as it was never really busy around then.
Tuesday nights were always just perfect for you two. A nice time to just feel second-hand embarrassment together from what the characters did on screen.
However today was not the same as any other day. A new movie was released on Netflix the Sunday before so naturally you and Duke had decided to set it to the following Tuesday's movie night. Neither of you had bothered to look at the trailer believing in the skimmed over reviews and it being labelled a rom-com. What more did you expect but something to crunch your face over.
You had come in with your summer pjs as the weather was warming up and made your way to the theater, ready to help Duke set things up. He had already laid out his half of things while you proceeded to give him a quick greeting and putting everything you brought with yourself down.
Once all was set and the lights were turned off, you began the movie.
Nothing seemed out of place, it followed a typical girl who needed to move back to her hometown for reasons that always had to do with a job. As she gets back she reconnects with old friends, crushes and flings.
You and Duke share laughs at the obvious plot and proceed to make bets on who the end-goal love interest would be in this one. Would it be the guy she had a crush on in first grade? Or her male best friend that had the biggest crush on her her entirety of high school but never confessed? Or would it be the bad boy she had lost her virginity to on Prom Night as an impromptu thing as she didn't want to leave high school a virgin.
As fun as placing the bets was with the promise of pizza as the prize, nothing could have prepared you two for what you were about to witness.
Right on screen as the female lead and one of the potential love interests shared a kiss, it seemed to get heated?
A lot more heated than a standard rom-com would allow actually. And were they taking off their clothes?
What was the rating on this again?
It had to be +18NL with how things were playing out. Quite explicit too.
Removing your eyes from the screen to glance at Duke, you notice how he doesn't seem to budge. Eyes glued and focused as he gulps down the saliva building up on his tongue.
Curious to what his thoughts were on the unexpected sex scene that they were experiencing for the first time together, you were taken aback.
From what you could make out you were right under Duke, both of you bare chested like the characters on the screen, both of you breathing out heavily like the characters on the screen, both of you closing the gap like the characters on the screen. It's when the point of view changes to Duke's perspective of things that you realise he's projecting you both on what you're both watching.
Duke inches down your body maintaining eye contact as he gets to your covered bottom. Eyes flicking down to the material before looking back up at you as if begging to remove them. You give him a nod and he eagerly give a quick kiss through them before yanking them off hurriedly so. Duke gulps again both on in his projection and in person before going all in tasting every inch of you.
Your eyes move to watch the screen and not him and as it was all playing out in his head there the two characters were getting it on exactly as he projected it.
Grabbing for the remote, you pause it.
"I think we need a break from that, no?" You suggest feeling flustered thanking every being out there that allowed you to be in such a dark room at this moment.
Duke was a very good looking guy, his personality made him a solid catch too. But it was another thing to tell the guy you've been chilling with casually as friends that you felt heated from his thoughts and would be more than willing to play it out right there in the theater.
Duke gulped for a third time before nodding and agreeing.
Maybe on another time would you initiate something, just in the privacy of your home lounge this time.
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kimjun · 4 months
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Jason: how do I make a date really romantic?
Dick: be mysterious
Jason: got it!
*later, while on a date with Y/n*
Y/n: where are we going?
Jason: none of your fucking business
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jaysgirlx · 3 months
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"Need help sweetheart?" Bookstore Customer!Jason Todd helps you reach the books on the higher shelves. You were his favorite employee and he wanted to make your day easier. He'd been coming here for a while but you always forgot how tall he was and how good his body felt pressed against yours. You only knew how to mumble out a couple words because you didn't know what else to say to a man like that. "Uh sir, you don't need to-"
"Please call me anything but sir sweetheart, you know I'm not new here"
Bookstore Customer!Jason enjoyed teasing his favorite employee aka you of course. He teases you about working at the bookstore even though he's constantly there and he'll always be flirting with you even if you're working the counter that day. He knows he's holding up the line but he's a paying customer so he doesn't care.
"How's my favorite pretty girl doing?"
"M'tired today Jay, I can't handle your nonsense right now"
"Okay that was mean- wait, Jay? that's a first"
"Buy a book or get out Jason"
You could easily tell Jason liked classics and poetry but for some reason he was willing to read your favorites even if they were a smut-filled mess. One time, he backed you up into a corner, after reading one of those books you liked, "Hmm, you like this kind of shit baby? cause I can do all that to you and so much more"
Over time, you learned that Jason also likes to follow you to the store, whispering to you about all the things he could do to you if you'd let him. His hand is always on your hips, pressing his body fully into you. He knows you like it especially when you roll your hips into his when nobody's looking. He wishes you'd use your words and just say you were his but he knew he wasn't even close to getting that, at least not yet.
Jason tried to buy a new book every week, sometimes not even to read. He needed an excuse to be there since your boss has never been fond of him ever since he had caught him feeling you up near the back shelves once. He learned his lesso so now he purposefully buys the books you like, just so he can watch you ramble on and on about them without getting kicked out of the store.
Bookstore Customer!Jason thrived on the feeling he got from watching you go from being so nonchalant around him to the most talkative girl in the world. he wants you comfortable if he's going to fuck you. You find yourself shutting up one time because you thought you had bored him but he quickly gets rid of that thought for you, "Keep talking sweetheart, I'm just wondering how pretty your mouth would look with my cock stuffed down your throat"
"Jay I don't- I can't- I haven't-"
"Don't worry, you will and I'm sure you're a fast learner"
It wasn't that hard for you to notice that Jason got a little jealous when his brother Dick hits on you the first and last time he brings him to the bookstore. Dick easily chats you up and Jason watches the two become a bit too friendly for his liking but it wasn't his place to speak, "Now I see why my little brother brings home so many books"
"It's good he does, I like guys who read"
"I actually quite the fan of classic literature-"
"Oh shut up Dick"
Bookstore Customer!Jason had all your coworkers wondering if you'll ever let the poor guy hit. They weren't sure if Jason was interested in you or your body, regardless they couldn't ignore the smile you got whenever he walk in. Or the way you'd laugh at his dumb jokes. You had him on a leash and you didn't even know what to do with him. He's begging to take you out or just even spent a night with you. He didn't just want you, he needed you. "C'mon I promise to take care of you princess, I'll even take you to that little coffee shop in Bludhaven"
"Who told you about that?!"
"…Dick"
When he finally manages to convince you to let him kiss you, you're nervous as fuck. You thought this was just another one of his antics but no, this was real. He'd promised to stop hitting on you if you felt nothing and you should've know it was bad idea when you could hear your own heartbeat still your let his lips touch yours. It was such a bad idea because before you knew it, he's got you pushed up against the wall, leg parting your thighs with your hands gripping at his shirt. "Jay, more please" Suddenly after all this time, you're pleading for him. Oh how the tables have turned. You're begging for all he's got, and you know he has so much more to give.
"Just give me a moment baby, got be patient" Within a matter of minutes your pants are discarded on the floor, and your panties are still on but being pushed aside while two fingers are being pumped in and out of your pussy. He's got one hand on your hips holding you down while one of your legs is wrapped around his waist. "Didn't I tell you I could do some much for you baby?"
You nod quickly while he's sucking on your poor neck, that would definitely be red all tomorrow. you feel his teeth sink into your skin, not too hard but rough enough to leave a mark. "Now keep quiet, I don't want any of your coworkers hearing us back here" The next thing you know you're cumming on the boy's fingers and he wants you to do it again. and again. and possibly 50 more times if you're willing.
The next time Jason comes, he's holding what you think is flowers and you know he'll be your victim today.
"So I thought real flowers would be cheesy and you'd probably not want to take care of em, so my brothers taught me how to make these paper flowers and…here just take them"
"Wow, I'm getting hand-crafted flowers from THE Jason Todd? Someone must have a really big crush on me huh? Are those bandaids on your fingers? Want me to kiss your boo-boos? "
"Are you going to finally go out with me or do I have to make you cum-"
"Yes yes! Just do not finish that sentence out loud"
"You are soooooooooo in love me"
"Jay, get out"
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martiniluvr · 3 days
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18+ minors dni
warnings: overstimulation (shocker)
★・・・★・・・★・・・★
for someone of his size and strength, jason todd gets pussydrunk so easily. what starts as him generously preparing you to take his huge cock quickly devolves into a feast for him—and torture for you—as he pins you to the bed with one arm and makes a mess of devouring your cunt, the thought of fucking you long lost in his mind.
your eyes water as his plump lips suck at your overworked clit while his free hand fucks you slowly, his large fingers coated in your slick as they slide back into you. you’re incoherent as you try to wriggle away from him, the ache of another unbearable orgasm forming in the pit of your belly. you buck your hips against his face, trying to delay the inevitable as he curls his fingers inside you.
undeterred by your squirming, jason puts more of his weight on you as he buries his face deeper in your cunt. his chin is glazed with your arousal and his saliva, and his dark lashes rest on his cheeks as he releases your clit with a lewd pop. he flattens his tongue and drags it up your folds, letting out a gravelly moan against your pussy at the way you taste. you can’t help the heat that spreads over your cheeks at the obscene display he’s putting on, but you find yourself unable to look away.
he withdraws his fingers from your entrance and uses them to spread you apart, pulling back from you so he can admire the glossy mess as you clench involuntarily at the loss of contact. embarrassment has you trying to clasp your legs shut, but he easily blocks you with his arms. “so fuckin’ pretty, ma,” he mumbles, mostly to himself as he uses his thumb to smear your slick all over your sex, transfixed by the sight. “all mine, hm? all fuckin’ mine.”
you cry out as he latches back onto your clit, sucking hungrily while his hands keep you in place. you knot your fingers into his hair as your spine raises off the bed with the force of another overwhelming orgasm that has your thighs trembling around his head and your pussy gushing onto his tongue again, which he accepts with another moan. you can feel his smile against you as you breathe shakily, letting your legs collapse onto his shoulders.
“jay,” you whine suddenly, feeling him trail his lips along your inner thigh. “I can’t—”
“c’mon, princess,” he coos sweetly, grazing his thumb over your slit lightly. “just gimme one more, hm?”
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chxrrydrxp · 1 month
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mdni
𝓫𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝓙𝓪𝓼𝓸𝓷..
who knows it could ruin the friendship, but at the moment doesn't give a fuck when his head is shoved between your thighs eating you out as if you were his last meal
best friend Jason who groans desperately into your pussy while your thighs almost choke him out as nasty sounds leave your lips and your hand grips his hair until his scalp burns.
best friend Jason who fucks you slowly against the wall, relishing in the breathy moans that flow from you to his ears. he's fueled by the desperate way you attempt to cling onto him for support and he slips himself deeper and deeper, tickling your cervix.
best friend Jason, who whimpers disgustingly explicit things in your ear after he feels you tighten your legs around his waist while he begins to pick up the pace (I RHYMED) filling the room with the wet sounds of sweaty skin colliding.
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dead-sane-stuff · 9 months
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* Damian telling some story*
Jason: That is such bullshit
Damian: NO IT IS NOT
Y/n: Jason, if Damian says it's true then who are we to believe otherwise
Jason: Oh Okay, but no one believes me when I say I beat the last level of Mortal Kombat.
Y/n: Because that's just ridiculous Jason, no one beats Sub-Zero or Kronika
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indulgentdaydream · 2 months
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So… what do we think about Wonder Girl!Reader? Hm??? Should I write it or would no one read it??
(add your thoughts in the notes!!)
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hanasnx · 4 months
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MINORS DNI 18+ NOTES: the picture on the left is michal mrazik who i edited to look like jason so i’d appreciate it if u didn’t use it.
JASON TODD who humps your ass any chance he gets. Not that he’s desperate for relief like some hound, but that it’s his own personal bit that sometimes reaps benefits. You weren’t trying to catch his eye when you were stretching out, on your hands and knees to extend your spine in a deep arch. Inhale after exhale, each breath relaxed you, until a perfect visible curve to your back sloped into your succulent backside and lured your boyfriend in like a fly trap.
As if he could smell that you’re in a compromising position, he comes up behind you on the mattress. You can feel his weight shift as he walks on his knees to you, dick first. “What’re you doin’?” he asks coyly, and his hips bumps yours. You roll your eyes with a scoff; only he could assume you’re doing this for him. Easily, like he’s done a thousand times before, his thick fingers slot in the folds where your thighs connect to your pelvis, wedging between the fat there because of your stance. He keeps you steady as he swings forward, giving you congratulatory little humps. “Uh, uh, uh,” he orates with each thrust, as if narrating his entry with feigned moans. Each one’s harder than the last, and as he knocks against your tailbone, your body reminds you of the times you’ve been in similar positions.
The powerful placebo shoots through you with each connect, and you whine from the memory of him rearranging your guts in doggy style. He dry humps you yet you’re squirming and whimpering like he’s inside you, burying your heated face in the covers. He doesn’t fully register the extent of it, but he starts getting the picture, and he muses, “Yeah? Yeah, baby? Feel good?” while he’s rutting harder. You’re so stupid for him, you respond to him with all your pathetic confirmations. You’re banging against him, you can practically feel every inch of him plunging in you, his balls rapping against your folds. Both of you are playing the game, his cock hardening with each gradual increase of pace, and every manic thrust against you. The sensation of sex isn’t confined to memory, traveling through you like lightning, like he really is fucking you. It’s all imaginary though, clearly reminding you of cruel reality when he stops. Only to kickstart up again when you hear the familiar sound of his belt.
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michaellangdonswhore · 8 months
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warnings: again, smut. put me in a fucking hospital.
word count: 5.5k
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You were, by far, Jonathan Crane's least favorite student.
You knew it, and it was complete bullshit. You were always on time, always in every class, and always completed the work. You had always had such good grades in every class, but not with him.
While not giving you the worst grade imaginable, you were never able to get over an A-, which pissed you the fuck off. Obviously, to any other normal student studying psychology, they'd take the A-, but not you.
And again, nothing over an A-. There was the frequent B+, sometimes B, and when you really pissed him off he would go as low as a B-.
You've done everything you could to get him to like you. You would ask questions, clearly put extra effort into the homework, and even applied to laboratory studies that he ran. You hated not being liked.
However, at this point in the year, you had given up on trying. You still did everything you were supposed to do, because you wanted a good grade, but you hadn't bothered participating or showing any interest anymore. You had decided to focus more on your other classes. Due to this, you had been working late into the night, causing you to be exhausted for your 8 AM lectures with Crane.
You were exhausted, trying to pay attention. Your head hurt so much for looking at a screen for so long last night.
Crane is flipping through a slideshow, and you find yourself dozing. It's not that this stuff bored you, you had just already learned it back when you took AP Psych your sophomore year of high school.
You snap back into reality when you hear your name being called.
Crane is singling you out with an annoyed expression on his face. You turn red because everyone, all 400 other people in the class, are staring at you.
"I'm sorry. Is this boring you?" He puts his hands on his hips.
"No-" You begin.
You're stammering. You normally don't have such a rough time with public speaking, but being downright exhausted and being singled out for nearly falling asleep in class is extremely embarrassing.
He pauses for a moment and stares you down.
You feel as if you were naked, as if you were completely exposed to him. You didn't like him looking at you like that, like he was taking into account every imperfection.
"As I was saying..."
Thank god.
He resumes to what he was talking about before and you're more alert, heart pumping full of humiliation. You're taking notes now, typing quickly and probably annoyingly loud (you can tell because he keeps shooting you small glares every time you hit the spacebar).
Finally, the hour is up and he reminds everyone about the homework due that Friday. You collect your stuff and head out the door. You don't realize, but he watches you leave.
Everything you do irks him.
Maybe it was because your first paper challenged his psychological beliefs, or because your intelligence challenged him in general. But literally everything about you pisses him off.
Your loud typing, your questions that challenges his lectures, how you turn everything in on time, how you flawlessly converse with the other students. He is so desperately waiting for you to slip up.
As previously stated, you were putting less effort than before into his class. He picked up on this. You were turning your papers and chapter readings in the last minute, you weren't asking questions, and you were even falling asleep.
You had three days to complete a portion of the assignments given. You completely forgot about it.
Due to your tiredness and your weakening desire to try for the class, you had forgotten to write down the homework in a planner that you always checked daily.
Crane is a quick grader, and usually he always grades your homework first; more specifically, as soon as you turn it in.
You realized you didn't do the work as soon as you woke up that morning for your 8 AM class. You had never ever missed an assignment. Ever. And you had no time to do it and make it to his class on time. You were freaking the fuck out.
It's okay. Maybe he hasn't graded it yet.
But no. He was such a strict grader. He was harsh.
Whatever. You may as well hope for the best.
To distract yourself from your predicament, you talk to the boy who sits next to you in the class. It's just smalltalk about the workload and about an upcoming test.
You stop talking when Crane clears his throat. You shift back in your seat and open your laptop.
"It's a Friday. It's 8 AM," Crane begins. You think this is going to be the introduction of a psychological speech. "For all 399 of you that did your homework last night, go enjoy your Friday morning."
People being looking around and whispering, not sure if this is a trick, but you know it's not.
You're freaking out. Your heart is racing and you cannot believe that he would actually do this to you. Usually teachers will just give you a bad grade and call it that, but to single you out and have the entire class leave except for you is an all time low.
"I'm not messing with you," Crane continues. "Go. You know who you are."
He's looking at you dead in the eye and you stay put as people slowly get up to leave, looking around to make sure others are doing the same. You avoid his gaze, looking at your computer screen.
Soon enough, everyone is out of the large lecture room, some looking back to see the one person who didn't do their work.
Once the door is shut, and everyone is completely out of sight, Crane locks both of the doors and looks up at you.
"Are you deliberately trying to fail my class?" He questions. "I thought you wanted to be outstanding."
You can't find words to say. He scoffs and moves to his desk, shuffling through papers and bringing out a decently large stack to over to you. It feels like hours pass by as he walks up the steps to you and drops them onto your desk.
You look at them, confused.
"This is the homework that was due at midnight." He explains.
"It's never so much..." You stammer. You can feel his hatred burning into your skin.
"It's what's due next Wednesday, Friday, and the following week too. Let's see if you can get this done by.... hm," He checks his watch. "By the end of the period?"
"All of this?" Your eyes widen.
"When's your next class?" He asks.
"You're my only one today." You continue to avoid his eye contact.
"Then you can stay." He says. "Until you finish all the work."
"But-"
"I can't trust that you'll do it." Crane says, taking a step back from you. "You need to complete it. In front of me."
"Please, Professor," You try to defend yourself. "I've been-"
"I can assume what you've been doing, you've almost fallen asleep in my class." He scoffs.
You feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment over him getting the wrong impression. Does he really think that low of you?
You take a deep breath. You'll just have to deal with this.
"Do you have a pencil?"
He grabs a black pen from his desk and looks up to you, motioning to sit in the front row. Close enough. You swallow your pride and grab your things and the stack of paper, walking down to the seats in the front.
The class itself is an hour, but it took you almost five to complete the amount of homework he gave you. The readings were long, and the quality of work was demanding. You were eager to do well, to prove yourself.
You hate that he hated you.
His eyes were on you the entire time you did your work. The silence was loud, but you pushed through it. You got three weeks of homework done, and proudly put the stack back onto his desk.
"I'll see you Monday, Professor," you smile, then walk away.
After that, you tried harder; harder than you tried compared to every other class you took. You did this, not to get him to like you- but to get back at him with the fact that you knew your shit; you were a good student. You sat in the front, did side research, and spent nights studying for his endless quizzes. And he wanted to fail you to make you stop what you were doing, but you were getting all the answers right and you both knew that. He wouldn't want you taking anything to the next level.
With you in the front, it made it harder for him to not be distracted by you. Mid speech he would find himself locking eyes with you, disrupting his words and leaving him stammering for a brief moment. Ever since you've upped the eye contact, you've gained more control of the situation.
You arrived in class that Wednesday; the situation in which Crane forced you to stay and do two weeks worth of work in front of him occurred around three weeks ago. You're sitting in the front in between two empty seats; no one likes to sit in the front in Crane's class. It's usually only filled with around three to four people. Crane isn't in class yet, which is weird considering he's always there early, before anyone else even gets there. The class is almost about to begin and he's never been late.
Soon enough, it's one minute after the class is supposed to start and he's still not there. You start feeling antsy, wondering where he is.
Finally, he walks in; two minutes after class is supposed to start. So unlike him.
He places his briefcase on the desk and begins setting up his computer while everyone takes out something to take notes with.
"Now, you all know what I specialize in, I hope," He states, not breaking eye contact with his computer.
He specialized in phobias. Apart from dedicating his time to teaching you, he was a therapist mainly for fears.
"I'm sure we all know what exposure therapy is, correct?" He asks. Pretty much the whole class nods in unison. "Good. For those of you not on the same page, it's the type of therapy which someone is exposed to their fear or trauma."
He begins flipping through his slideshow, giving more and more information and lecturing about it, but you can't help but notice it's an almost bias review.
You're left with homework to write a review on some boring documentary on the history of exposure therapy and a pretty long excerpt of the textbook you all were reading.
So, you did your work and followed all of the instructions. You wrote a review on exposure therapy.
The next Monday, you get to class and you sit in the front row. There's a big stack of paper on Crane's desk, and you assuming that you're getting a pop-quiz, but no, that's not the case.
Crane's waiting for everyone with his shoulder rested on the large stack of papers. Once the time hits 8, he begins.
"I printed out all of your outlines," He begins. "I've made some comments and given some feedback. We'll spend the class working on them."
He starts calling out names and one by one, people receive their papers. You're sort of anxious- you left a pretty negative review on exposure therapy, something that he seemed so passionate about.
"Y/N Y/L/N." He says, saying your voice with more of an annoyed tone than the other students. You get up and grab your paper from his hands, tugging harder due to his firm grip. Clearing his throat, he continues calling out the following names. You go back to your seat, nervous to look at the paper. When you sit and look at it, your stomach dropped.
There's nothing on the front page. Then you look at the second.
See me after class.
There is literally nothing but a see me after class.
Oh my god.
What did I do?
Was he offended at all by what was written? Surely, that wasn't your intention... yes, you wanted to piss him off, but you had some respect for him. You didn't want to actually maybe- make him insecure about his work?
Class seemed to take hours to go by; you didn't even know what to do about your paper. He gave no other feedback other than to see him after class. How were you supposed to work with that?
You looked around at your classmates typing away. You're annoyed that he actually helped them.
See me after class.
At least give me feedback on my fucking paper.
Everyone then realized the time and began to pack up. Crane stood up from his desk and took his glasses off.
"Remember, papers are due Friday!" He manages to get out before people start heading out the door.
You put your things in your bag, trying to act out to your classmates as if you were leaving. You felt so embarrassed. You hated how he kept embarrassing you and how he had the power to do that. It was infuriating. You felt him staring at you as you packed your stuff up, moving slower, nervous that he would call you out.
You took your time, though, waiting till everyone was out of the room.
With everyone else there, you felt so confident. You were one of the smart ones and you at least had witnesses, but alone with him? You were completely inferior. He could quite literally ruin your life with a bad grade and could easily tarnish your image, being the head of Arkham and all that.
"I found your paper quite interesting," He says, emphasizing quite.
"I'm sorry-" you begin. "I didn't mean to offend you."
"Offend me?" He scoffs. "You think you offended me?"
"I just- I know this is what you do, right?" You stammer.
"I'm interested in your point of view." He says. "About the pain, how it's long term. I'm interested as to why you seem so against it."
You shrug.
"What's your biggest fear, Y/N?" He asks you. "What is it? Failure?"
"I'm not trying to fail."
"Oh, yes, you've proven that." He clicks his tongue. "Sitting in the front, turning things in quickly, wearing shorter skirts. Don't think I don't notice what you're doing."
"What?"
"You write intensely about the struggle that people with PTSD-"
"Wait," you interrupt him. "What did you say?"
"I'm trying to discuss with you what you've written."
"Professor, my clothing choices have nothing to do with me wanting to do well in this class," you say. Now you're offended.
Instead of apologizing, which is what you think any decent person would do, he looks you up and down and scoffs.
"You're wearing tights."
"What?"
"Surely, those must be uncomfortable. You're not wearing those to satisfy yourself," he says.
You grow red, and angry.
He keeps humiliating you.
"Who are you trying to impress?"
"Will you stop?" you groan in frustration. "Why don't you just let me get by like you let everyone else get by? I do everything you ask!"
"I want to know who you're trying to impress."
"I'm not trying to impress anyone," you hiss, finally looking up at his crystal eyes.
You know it's disrespectful, but you turn to walk away and to leave.
"No, no. We're not done."
You ignore him, walking towards the door, but he quickly beats you to it, shutting it and locking you in.
"I said we're not done." He said, completely composed. "Sit."
"I want to leave."
"Your biggest fear is failure, yes?" He questions. You don't nod or shake your head, but it is pretty much true; you hate failing. You need to succeed and be good at everything you do. "Sit. I can very much make that fear come true."
"I do everything," you repeat. "Everything. I do it on time, I'm here always, I'm prepared for everything."
"Can you just fucking-" He pushes you down onto the seat next to his desk. "Sit?"
You weren't expecting him to physically force you to sit down, but you could pick up on the pent up frustration he had with you.
"The off the cut sweater, no bra-" He points out.
You weren't wearing a bra. You were surprised he had picked up on the fact- you could've been wearing a strapless, but no. He was right.
"Are you even wearing underwear?" He whispers.
You're flushed.
What the fuck was going on?
You thought he hated you.
And yeah, you knew he was an attractive man, that's what made this whole thing pretty exciting, but you never thought you would be sat down with him leaning over you saying things like this.
"Let me see."
"Professor?"
He grabs you off the chair and pushes you onto his desk, spreading your legs for you. Everything was moving too quickly; this all felt like a fever dream.
He tugs at the middle of your tights, ripping them open to expose your- and he was right- bare pussy. He lets out a chuckle.
"You're not trying to impress anyone?" He questions, again, peering up at you.
You try moving your thigh to cover yourself, but he forcefully keeps them open.
"Who was that boy you used to sit next to... Tim, is it?"
To be honest, you really didn't know that kids name. He was just someone you sat next to out of habit since you had picked that seat the first day of classes. But you hadn't been sitting with him for weeks at that point.
"Is Tim who you're trying to impress?"
"No!" You argue, still trying to fight the grip of his hand off your thigh. "I told you... I'm not trying to impress anyone."
"Hm." He says, placing two fingers on exactly the right spot of your clit, slowly rubbing in circles. . "You're not even trying to impress me?"
You stay silent, for a brief moment.
"Not in this way..."
But it's past that point now. He's already touching you, rubbing faster, and your exposed pussy is laid out right in front of his face. You're embarrassed and self conscious. He's too close for comfort.
"Yeah?"
The fingers once on your clit are now entering you. You still can't comprehend the situation.
But for him, he was putting you in your place. It was enough of the looks in class, the semi sexual and revealing clothing, the obvious need for his approval and to show him she was as smart- maybe even smarter than him himself.
"Is that why you're letting me touch you like this?" He asks, using the two fingers to pump your pussy.
It's out of your control but you're getting wetter the longer and faster he fingers you. It's beginning to show, beginning to drip down his fingers and onto his wrists. He notices this, then stops and looks.
"Disgusting," He huffs before licking his fingers clean.
"That's disgusting," You repeat at him, glaring a little, but you can't help but want his finger- more of him back inside you. You feel empty, desperate for his hands back on you.
"I don't see you asking me to stop."
You're silent, again.
He smiles, kneeling back down and spreading your legs open again, this time with a more forceful grip. He doesn't use his fingers this time, devouring you with his hot mouth and basically digging in.
He was really good at this. To be fair, no one had ever actually eaten you out, but you had never felt anything like it. He moves his fingers towards you again and fucks you with them as he sucks and licks at your clit. He was freakishly good. You felt something drip down your thigh; you didn't know if you were sweating or if you were fucking leaking. By the sound of it, probably the second one.
He removes his fingers and dives deep into your pussy more, making obscure sounds as he does so. He stops and looks up at you.
"Take your shirt off. I want to see your tits," he demands.
You comply; he's already seen a lot.
"Fuck, they're perfect." He says, now standing over you, playing with them and poking and twisting at your hardened nipple. He's pushing his hardened clothed dick into your bare pussy, giving you some friction has he sucks on your neck and plays with your nipples.
He grabs your hips and flips you over, putting you on your stomach and leaning you over the desk.
He kneels back down, eating your pussy again; he can't get enough of it. He can't get enough of the small whines escaping your throat and the way you leak and how you shake when it feels good- or when the pleasure becomes too much.
He adds his fingers in again, this time three, and you let out a louder, but not too loud, moan than usual.
"Professor-"
"You can take it." He assures you. "You better take it. If you can't take this how can you take my cock?"
You just weren't used to it- you had been fucked, but not for so long. He keeps licking and devouring your clit while pumping in and out of you. You feel so full- on the brink. You feel hot, and god you feel good. You don't even realize it, but you're riding his mouth and his fingers.
"You know, I wasn't going to let you come," Crane begins between breaths, keeping his face close to your pussy so you could still feel him. "But now that I think about it... I want you cum drunk on my dick. I wanna make you cum over and over again until you're a fucking mess."
He goes back to sloppily and messily eating you out again. It was so dirty; the noise, what was leaking out of you. You then felt that familiar feeling and you couldn't stop it; no matter how wrong this felt or how humiliated and exposed you felt, you couldn't stop yourself from moaning like a mess and cumming all over his mouth.
You needed a second to recover, but he stood up and grinded his clothed dick against you. You weren't ready for the friction, wincing over the contact with you sensitive clit. He grabbed your neck and pulls your back to him, kissing you, continuing to grind.
He unbuttons his pants and undoes his boxers, his large thick cock springing out, begging to be touched. He pushes one of your legs up onto the desk to give him better access to you.
"You're fucking soaked," He says as he teases himself some more, collecting what's came out of you as some lubricant.
He keeps rubbing your clit and the outside with his dick, back and forth. It feels good, but it's not enough. He pushes harder with his dick on your clit, continuing to hump you.
"Professor, please," you look back at him, trying to guilt him into giving in and fucking you, but it's not that easy.
"Shut up, and let me take my time." He says. He continues this for a little, before getting a new idea. "I want you to cum on my cock without me fucking you."
"What?"
He pulls you towards him then on his lap on the chair next to his desk.
"Grind on it." He demands, holding you in place by your hips. "Get it soaked."
You hesitate, but he's impatient. He pushes you down and moves your hips for you until you begin to do it with him. You grind your pussy against his cock, stimulating your clit once more. It didn't feel as good as his mouth, and god it probably didn't feel as good as his dick would feel inside you, but it felt good. And you were so fucking horny, you were on the brink of cumming again.
"Yeah, yeah, you got it," he praised you, rocking your hips back and forth. He digs his nails into your hips, definitely leaving some cuts in your skin, but you didn't care. You were so close. He begins to bounce up, pretending to thrust into you, adding to your pleasure. "That's it, you- oh fuck, yes, cum on my fucking dick."
You're dripping onto him as you ride out your high, clenching around nothing. It seems to last for a while, wrapped up in all the pleasure combined with his dirty talk.
He angles his cock towards your entrance and pushes into you- he feels hot and he's sensitive due to teasing himself. But no- he doesn't want to cum yet. He wants to put you in your fucking place. And even if he does cum, he has no issue continuing and even fucking a baby into you. Then, you'd have to walk around with the shame.
He gently picks you up, but then harshly slams you up and down repeatedly onto his cock. You've had no time to readjust after cumming a second time, and you were extremely sensitive.
"Slower, professor, please," You cry, burying your face into his shoulder. "It hurts..."
"Shut the fuck up."
He grabs you by the neck and pounds up into you, rubbing your clit as well to add to the sensation.
Yes, it feels good, but it's so overwhelming you can't help but tear up. Crane notices this and it goes straight to his head.
"Are you fucking crying?" He scoffs. "Fucking crying for me?"
He picks you up, keeping you firmly attached to his dick, and throws you over the desk again. He's fucking you deeper and at an animalistic pace; like he fucking needs this.
"Keep crying for me. Keep fucking crying."
He harshly grips your tits, twisting your nipple in the process.
"Fucking perfect tits, perfect pussy, perfect everything. You fucking strive for perfection- but you're letting me fucking ruin you. Is this how far you'd go for a good grade?" He laughs, fingers deep in your clit.
You can only moan in response, but this doesn't satisfy him.
"Fucking answer me."
"Yes," you cry out.
"Yeah, you're just a fucking whore who'd sleep her way to the top if that's what it took." He says, tugging your hair back, your sweaty bodies pressed closer together.
His words are filthy, but you're fucking cumming again.
He's laughing, mocking you for doing so.
"You fucking like being treated like a bitch, don't you?" He says, fucking you through your third orgasm. You don't know how he's not tired. As you expect, he doesn't give you a fucking break. You're worn out at this point; almost numb.
"Professor, I don't know-"
"You don't know if you can keep going?" He questions. "Yeah, you can. I'll fucking make you keep going. What was that... your third orgasm? Let me see if I can double that."
"Professor..."
"I'll stop when you give me three more."
You feel like you're going to pass out; the pleasure had become too much, but you were so fucking sensitive that a fourth one had come quickly. Your pussy was so swollen and red, but he had not gotten off of you.
"You're fucking..." He brings you back to the chair and places you on top of him. "You're fucking leaking all over me, fucking hell. So wet... do you hear yourself?"
You could hear yourself. It was disgusting. It was filthy.
"Aren't you embarrassed?" He asks. He slows down his pace, and you know he's teasing you. "Embarrassed that you're whoring yourself out to me like this? To a professor that so clearly disliked you? This is what you do for my approval."
He slows his pace some more.
"Would you do this for any other professor, Y/N? Let them fuck your pussy till you have nothing left to give? Bounce on their cock the way you do for me?"
"No, professor," you shake your head, trying to bounce faster but he keeps your hips in place, restricting you. He had succeeded- made you cum drunk and fucked you stupid, but this wasn't enough. He needed more. "No, no, only you. I'd only do this for you."
You're squirming around on his dick. He's stopped moving at this point, just staying in you.
"Stop fucking moving around. Don't you want to impress me?"
"Have I not?" You begin to regain some of your strength with this somewhat of a break he was giving you. "Have I not impressed you, professor?"
You give him puppy eyes as you gain some control of the situation, his grip loosing and you bouncing on his cock at a pace you like.
"I want to impress you, professor," you say seductively. "I want to- fuck!"
You start chasing your high again, you didn't even realize that you'd ever be able to cum this many times.
"Fuck!" You repeat. Crane is letting you take control, enjoying the show of you riding his cock, using him for your pleasure. "Do you like this, professor? Do you like when I fucking bounce on your dick like this?"
You had never heard yourself like this, or ever expected to talk like this. You had never felt so confident.
"Have you imagined this professor?" You continue. He's obviously at a loss for words, not expecting this side of you. "Have you imagined fucking me? Have you imagined bending me over your desk and eating me out till I came all over your face? My tits? Putting me in my fucking place?"
His hands found your hips again and he's helping you ride his cock. He's loving the words coming from your mouth.
"God, I think you wanted this more than I did," you laugh. You're so close. You wanted him to talk, but his reactions to your words were enough for you. "Make me cum again, professor, please. I- fuck!"
He's pushing into you and bouncing you up and down quickly and you're riding out your fifth orgasm.
He pulls you off of him and lays you out on the desk again, licking up your sore pussy. He hums while doing this, telling you how you taste so good. You're so- so sensitive, though, and you can't help but cumming on his tongue again not even seconds later, letting out a string of incoherent words.
That's six.
You look at him, but he's positioning himself in you.
"You said six-"
"I say a lot of things. I want you to cum on my cock again." He says, kissing your neck. "Last time. I promise."
He pumps into you, at a softer, but still quick pace. You feel so incredibly numb, but he still manages to work you up quickly while fondling your breasts and pressing hot kisses into your neck.
"Ah- fuck." He pants, fucking himself into you. "Fuck... gonna cum in you. Want you to fucking carry me around for the rest of the fucking day."
You don't object- your hearing was probably a little impaired at this point.
"Yeah, you want that, don't you. It's like a fucking award to you."
He's holding you closer now. You both are so sweaty and sticky.
You're about to cum again, but he grabs your throat tightly.
"Fucking wait for me. Don't be impatient."
As hard as it is, you listen to him. He speeds up, becoming sloppy before he cries, "Fuck, cum! Cum all over my fucking- ahhh, yes, fuck."
He shoots hot loads into you as you clench around him, milking more out of him. He doesn't stop, continuing to fuck you until every last bit of his seed has marked you. Even after he's done, he gets a few more strokes in before he pulls out, showing the combination of you and him leaking out of your pussy. He pushes you onto the floor and presents his dick in front of him.
"Clean it."
You obey, wrapping your mouth on his cock and licking away the filth that the two of you made. He groans and pulls you off of him.
"You'll get me hard again." He says.
He puts all his clothes back on and hands you your sweater. Your nipples are hard, poking through them now.
"I look forward to your next draft of your review." Crane says calmly, as if what just happened didn't happen.
"You- um..." you stammer, brushing your fingers through your hair. "You didn't give me any notes."
"I didn't?" He questioned. You shook your head. "Well, stay again after class next session. I'll go over it, personally, with you."
"Oh." You blush. "This wasn't a one time thing?"
"Y/N..." Crane looks at the floor. "I'm your professor."
You felt awkward. Of course it was a one time thing; how could it not be?
But then he looks back up at you.
"You don't want to fail my class, do you?"
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fluentmoviequoter · 1 month
Text
Lost Time
Requested Here!
Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!wife!reader
Summary: Jason comes home to you, his wife, after a mission and makes up for lost time.
Warnings: fluff and comfort! brief mention of the Lazarus Pit and human trafficking
Word Count: 1.3k+ words
A/N: I really want to write a lengthy oneshot for Jason but I don't know if I capture him well enough. I don't get many DC requests but I love them so much!!
Picture from Pinterest (WFA Jason >>>)
Masterlist | DC/Jason Todd Masterlist | Request Info
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Jason Todd leaves, it’s what he does. Sometimes there are warnings, direct and indirect, but other nights he leaves while you sleep or simply doesn’t come home when he should. That’s who he is, what he does. There is more to Jason than meets the eye; he isn’t just Jason, Red Hood, or Bruce Wayne’s dead and nearly forgotten son. One piece of Jason makes him whole: being your husband brings him back, every single time. Jason leaves, but the time you spend alone is spent in confidence that he will come back to you, even if he’s broken and crawling.
While Jason is in Blüdhaven helping his brothers with a mission that Bruce doesn’t know about, you spend the time alone missing him. He hates leaving you, but you understand. That doesn’t mean, however, that you just wait for him to come home. Being married is supposed a 50/50 arrangement, yet you have given everything to Jason and there is not a single thing you wouldn’t do for him.
Tonight, nearly 96 hours after you last saw Jason, you make yourself comfortable with one of his books. The pages are yellowed from use, and highlights and notes fill the margins and the empty pages. Each word reminds you of Jason, and though you miss him, you refuse to look at his empty side of the bed. In the time since he left, promising to come back to you with a kiss and a tap to your wedding ring, you have read several of his books, cooked his favorite meal, and baked his favorite goodies. The distractions you created are all centered around Jason because despite what you tell yourself about needing to think about other things, Jason Todd takes up every single one of your thoughts. He’s captivating, and you never want to escape him.
Your phone beeps as you finish a page of Frankenstein. After taking a calming breath, you read the message from Barbara.
The bats are Gotham-bound.
The message makes you smile, and you rise from the bed to prepare for Jason’s return. He has come home without a scratch, drenched in blood, and everything in between. In sickness and health, you vowed, and you plan to keep it. With his favorite food already prepared and water heating in the kettle on the stove, you sit on the couch and wait for his entrance. The front door is behind you, and you watch as the Red Hood lands on your fire escape and expertly navigates into your home. His home.
The couch is empty by the time he turns from the now-closed window, and your arms loop around his waist as he moves. Jason chuckles at your immediate attention and pulls his helmet off.
“Miss me?” he asks.
You can hear his smile in his voice, and as Jason’s arms wrap around you, you sigh and release every fear and worry that had been pushed into the back of your mind.
“I need to shower,” Jason says, though he doesn’t move his hands from your back. “Blüdhaven is gross.”
“And Gotham is known for its cleanliness,” you argue.
“Get off,” Jason grumbles.
He raises his hands to your shoulders and easily pushes you back. You look at him as you raise your hands to hold his wrists. Jason’s gaze is soft and his touch is softer.
“Ten minutes,” he requests quietly.
“Someone needs pampering,” you tease. “Take your time. There’s food and tea if you want any.”
“Just wan’ you,” he murmurs.
Jason leans in and kisses your forehead quickly. He avoids your hands as you reach out for him. You laugh as he walks away, and the sound brings Jason home. He’s physically home, yes, but he is only home when you are completely and wholly with him.
The water echoes through the apartment as Jason enters the shower, and you prepare two mugs of tea before carrying them into the bedroom. You would wait forever for Jason, but as you lean back and close your eyes, content listening to him move through your shared home, you know that you’ll never have to wait long.
When Jason enters the bedroom clad in a pair of Wonder Woman sweatpants and smiles at you, everything seems better. The darkest Gotham day can’t cast a shadow on what you and Jason have. Before Jason left, he told you all you needed to know about the mission, and you won’t bring it up again. If he wants to talk about it, he will, and you’ll listen.
You raise the blanket as Jason approaches the side of the bed. He doesn’t hesitate to join you and pull you closer. After looping your arms over his shoulders, you push your fingers into Jason’s wet curls and twist them gently around your fingers. His white streak is closest to you, yet you concentrate your attention elsewhere to keep your eyes locked on his.
“You read it again, didn’t you?” Jason asks.
His eyes threaten to flutter closed, but he forces them open to talk to you.
“Read what?” you whisper.
“Tell me what I missed,” he requests.
You know he can see his books piled on your nightstand, but you enjoy the smile he gives you when you pretend not to know what he’s talking about. Jason pulls your hands away from his hair, opting to hold you against his side. You lay a hand over his heart and gently trace the bottom of a scar. You know his scars by heart, and each story behind them is ingrained in your memory.
“Not much,” you answer after a moment.
“Did you do anything? Because everything you do is important, and I want to hear about it,” Jason argues.
You lean closer and spread your fingers flat against his skin. His heart thrums steadily beneath your hand, and you think your heart beats in time with his.
“Maybe you just married me for the post-mission cuddles,” you say.
“Or maybe I just married you because I love you. I love you for accepting all of me and loving the parts that I don’t let anyone see.”
“Jason,” you hum.
“You didn’t tell me about what I missed,” he replies.
The first raindrop hits the window, and Jason is reminded that he’s back in Gotham. He’d move to Metropolis and listen to Clark as long as you were by his side, but being in your arms in his home town is a feeling unlike any other.
“I’ll take it you didn’t go to the manor,” you deflect.
“Why would I when I have a beautiful wife waiting at home for me and four days to make up for? Lost time with you will always be more important than Bruce.”
You sigh before you begin telling him about what you did. There isn’t much to tell. You read one of his books, cleaned, cooked, baked, and read another book.
“You baked?” Jason interrupts. “And didn’t bring it up until now?”
“I thought time with me was more important.”
Jason furrows his brows as he turns, pulling you to lay on top of him. When you first started dating, Jason was hesitant to initiate any sort of physical touch. Not long before, he had been Gotham’s most-feared crime lord and the rage caused by the pit was still present. Now, there is nothing to stop Jason from touching you: no fear of hurting you, no concern of scaring you away, and no doubt that you won’t love him once you see his darkest secrets. Jason’s scars, his past, and his nightly activities make him the man you love, and you love those parts of him, not the other way around.
As you cuddle with the man who recently scared human traffickers into turning themselves in to the authorities rather than running into him again, you simply enjoy being together. Your husband Jason and Red Hood Jason aren’t the same, yet you love them both equally.
“Do you really want to make up for lost time?” you ask over the rain.
Jason thinks your voice is more soothing and melodic than any rainstorm could dream of being. He pries his eyes open to answer, “Every second of it.”
You nod and lay your head against his chest. With your hearts pressed to one another and your fingers intertwined with Jason’s, you know that you are loved, and Jason knows you will always be here when he comes home.
You’re nearly asleep when you mumble, “’S a lotta time.”
Jason smiles but doesn’t move because he doesn’t want to disturb you. “Never enough time with you,” he whispers against your temple.
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kimjun · 11 months
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Y/N: We need to get through this locked door. Bruce, give me your credit card.
Bruce: Here.
Y/N, pocketing it: Thanks. Jason kick down the door.
9K notes · View notes
spidernuggets · 4 months
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stole this thought from my friend 🫶
Jason loves taking showers with you. And not only for the times when he takes the opportunity to bend you over as you lean against the wall.
But he loves the bare skin to skin contact. He loves to remember what you feel like, and he likes to remember your touch. He likes the way you trace his scars that he believes tainted his body while you smeared body wash all over him. You always scolded him that the 3 in 1 shampoo, conditioner, and body wash weren't as effective as advertised.
But you don't see his body as tarnished or ruined. His scars became a part of him. Just another feature that you love. He liked the way his back was turned. The suds quickly slid down the waves of his muscles. The way your index finger traced along the large, healed gash along his shoulder that stopped at where his spine was located.
He shuddered, and his heart raced when you placed a kiss on it. Like you did with every other scar.
This was your ritual.
You'd wait for him to come home to you, and when he did, he'd stench of gunpowder and iron. So you'd strip away his suit, he can finally breathe, his adrenaline dying down, and you drag him along into the shower.
In some nights where he had some extra energy, the late night showers would end with the water being lukewarm and mixed with both of your milky slicks.
But during most nights like these, he absorbs your soft affection, letting your hands roam and explore his body, loosening up the knots in his upper back, massaging his shoulders.
And when he turns back around to face you, his body towering over you as he blocks the water's path down to you, his arm reaches for your sides, hands following down the shape of your figure. His fingers smooth over the water that makes your skin glisten under the artificial light, calloused palms against your smooth hips, gently squeezing them, pulling you closer.
He rests his chapped lips against your forhead, whispering, 'I love you's as you say it back, the sounds of splashing water muffling your confessions.
You always loved showering with Jason right when he gets home. And it isn't only because you get to see him naked under 5 minutes after he comes through your fire escape. But also because you discover new features around him, sometimes in areas where you wouldn't particularly see when he's fully clothes.
There would be a new wound that you wrapped in waterproof bandages before stepping into the shower. But you'd make a mental note to give the new permanently damaged skin as much love, care and devotion as the rest of Jason's body.
You loved showering with Jason because it was an opportunity for you to appreciate him, his body, and the flaws that come with it. It was an opportunity for you to show your endless love for Jason because you know that he needs the constant reminder that someone truly loves him. And to prove the horrible voices that gnaw the back of his head, telling him that he's not good enough that they're wrong.
Because Jason is more than enough. Because you love him as much as he loves you.
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martiniluvr · 6 days
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18+ minors dni
what’s better than a 2 for 1 special? a 3 for 1 special! please cheer.
warnings: smidge of overstim 🤫
★・・・★・・・★・・・★
jason “move your hand” todd who pins your arms above your head to keep you out of his way. his face is inches from yours as he fucks you harshly into the mattress, enjoying the way you whine at every intrusion. your spine arches off the bed as you struggle under his grip, your sensitivity overwhelming you. “c’mon, ma,” he rasps, a cocky grin on his lips as you start to shake. “thought you said you could take it.”
dick “let me hear you” grayson who makes you beg for what you need. his hands rub your thighs lovingly as you glare at him and buck your hips in frustration, your aching cunt devastatingly empty despite the slow circles he’s rubbing on your clit. “you gotta tell me what you want, pretty girl,” he tuts gently, teasing his cock along your leaking entrance as you clench around nothing. “use your words for me.”
bruce “I’ll buy you another one” wayne who doesn’t bother waiting until you’re naked to fuck you. the delicate fabric of your gown snags on an old painting as he drives his cock into you while you’re pressed against the wall, filling you at an angle that makes you cry out with each thrust. “sorry about the dress, sweetheart,” he says between the sloppy kisses he’s peppering down your neck. “we’ll get a new one.”
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