#red nsft

[theysies]

butch boy smokes (and the neighbors probably saw)

[kenobers]

nsfw alphabet | Jason Todd

what the title says ! tw; explicit sexual content, gn!reader a/n; like always, these are just my thoughts and headcanons

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Jason's gonna make sure you're comfortable afterwards. He'll wipe you down, check that he didn't go too far. If you leave afterwards, he'll make sure you get home safe. If you stay, he'll offer you a t-shirt to sleep in. For a while, he wasn't big on the physical aspect of aftercare, but eventually pulling you to his chest becomes second nature. It's like your head fits just right in the crook of his shoulder. Hey, maybe the body heat will keep with the inevitable soreness you'll feel tomorrow. He's big on eating after sex. If you have enough energy, he'll order some Chinese or throw a frozen pizza in the oven. Sometimes it's kind of astonishing how the man will fuck you until you're more than a ragdoll, then immediately demolish like three Big Macs.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves hands. He loves his hands. They're big and strong, they can protect you, please you, provide for you. He adores the way you feel under them, soft and clean. He loves to feel you press against his palm while his fingers disappear inside of you. He loves your hands, the way they feel on his skin. No matter their size, they always look so small wrapped around his cock. He cherishes every mark your fingernails leave along his back, every sting they leave on his scalp when they twist his hair. He loves that your hands can go from caressing his scars to replacing them.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Jason loves the sight of you, sweaty and panting, with your stomach and thighs decorated in white. He's a little more possessive than he likes to admit, and he secretly feels like he's marking you as his whenever he finishes all over your skin.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He loves having high sex. When the weed hits just right, so the world reduces to nothing but you...that's that good shit right there. He gets so locked in that there isn't a single thought that could pull him away. He's numb in every place that isn't touching you. It adds a certain level of passion, of desperation, for each of you because your senses are so heightened to each other. However, it isn't very often that he feels both of you are to the same level of inebriated for it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He isn't as sexually charged as you would think and he typically waits to get to know a person before having sex with them (with a few exceptions, like for a certain crime lord's daughter). So in that regard, one of his body counts is significantly higher than the other, but he's had enough experience to know what he's doing. He knows what he likes and he knows how to figure out what you like.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

So long as your legs are hooked over his hips, he's happy. Jason particularly loves it when he's on his knees while you're on your back with your hips angled over his thick thighs. It lets him get deep inside of you while still being able to look at your pretty face. Not to mention, he loves grasping your hips, spreading your legs wide. (According to trusted resource, SexPositions.Club, this is position 5. Aquarius) He also loves having you up against things. Against a wall, on the kitchen table, the handle bars of his motorcycle. The way you hold onto him in more ways than one really adds something to the moment. And yeah, maybe it allows him to show off his strength to you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Jason's tone depends on the time and place. For the most part, he's serious. He teases you, lets out a low chuckle when he gets a sought after reaction from you, but it isn't humorous. But sometimes...sex is just incredibly unserious. Like lazy morning sex, when neither of you can be bothered to do much more than roll on top of one another. Like you're horny, but Jason looks so goofy with his hair sticking up and you're a real beauty queen with your crusty eyes. Or the aforementioned high sex, when both of you are so lost in your pleasure and giggles.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

His autopsy scar stops where his happy trail begins. Before you were a regular in his bed, he didn't really think to groom himself much. But he figured he should show you some decorum, so he keeps the dark patch of hair reigned in.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Jason doesn't take sex lightly. It's either a tool or a declaration of love (no matter how lazy). If he's using sex as a tool, he isn't going to be very intimate. He'll praise you, sing songs about your body, but it isn't going to be very personal. However, when you're in an established relationship, he's very intimate. There's much more kissing and eye contact, lots more "that's my baby" instead of "that's it, baby".

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Oh yeah. Usually only if you're gone though. He'd rather have the real deal. But sometimes...if he thinks about you for a little too long...well, it's hard to hide all that when you're his size...it's just polite for everyone else if he just deals with it.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Jason's kinks are sort of a revolving door. He likes to go rougher and he likes to be in charge typically, but everything else is dependent on your moods. One day he'll blindfold you, the next you'll tie his hands together while he gives you orders you have to follow on your own. He'll be daddy once, then sir the next, but his favorite thing to here is Jason. He also gets a thrill out of doing it with the Red Hood mask on. He's also got a praise kink. There's nothing that gets him going more than hearing you babble about how good he's making you feel, about how much you love him. It goes the other way as well. He loves to tell you how good you feel, how beautiful you are, how well you're taking him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Where ever the mood strikes. Generally speaking, his apartment is his favorite place. There isn't a particular room, he just likes the knowledge that this is your space to do as you please. But he does get a little thrill whenever you manage to do it somewhere risky.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

It's cliche as hell, but the sight of you in red really does work wonders for him. If he can see your nipples through your shirt, it's over. Watching you doing or say something intelligent is a huge turn on. He likes to watch you work for it. The way you oh-so-conspicuously bend over to pick something up or shiver so your chest sticks out. Make a suggestive face as you drop an innuendo only he understands and he'll see to it that your efforts don't go unrewarded.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He's not a voyeur. If he's gonna do it in a public setting, it's gonna be in a closet or a bathroom stall; somewhere that still shields your bodies from prying eyes. That's just for the two of you. Now, of course there's exceptions - like if you're trying to piss off your mobster father by fucking on his property, then he'll get a little cheeky for the security cameras.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Jason is nothing, if not a giver. Just lay back and let him take care of it, baby. This is something he can spend hours doing. His tongue knows just where to work you, he knows just how much teeth you like, where the biting boarders on pain. And if his fingers aren't right next to his mouth, they're kneading your skin, raking his nails across your stomach with a featherlight touch, massaging the kinks in your thighs so you can open them a little more. If nothing else, his mouth and hands can cover a lot of ground.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Jason likes it fast and rough. He'll drag out foreplay to his heart's content, but once you're good and ready, he's fucking you like his life depends on it. Then he's flipping you over and doing it again. That said, he has his slow and sensual moments. After a rough night when he's feeling particularly sentimental and grateful for you, he'll take all the time in the world just to watch you underneath him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Pro quickie, but usually if it's an appetizer for what comes later on. It's hard to take a dick that big and casually go on about your day. So, most of the time quickies look like his fingers sneaking down your pants during your lunch break, his head between your thighs in the bathroom at a charity event, or you on your knee taking care of him before patrol.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

As mentioned earlier, his kinks are a revolving door, so he would be down to experiment. He's pretty good about saying no when he needs to, and if he trusts that you can do the same, then he's open to trying new risks.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

No one recovers like this man. He can go for as many rounds as your heart desires. Unless he's already been yearning the whole damn day, Jason can last until the cows come home.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't have any toys for himself and doesn't really like to use them on his own body. However, he likes to use the vibrator on you, especially during foreplay. He likes to watch as you curl into him and shake with pleasure while he drives the toy between your legs - especially knowing that it won't be enough to satisfy you for long.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He likes to tease up to a certain point. If you're out doing something, he'll keep sliding his hand higher and higher up your thigh, then pull away completely, or lean down to say something to you so that his breath hits your neck in that one sensitive spot... But once your clothes are off, he can only restrain himself for so long.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Low groans and swears. His mouth as a mind of its own when he really gets going as he praises you, teases, calls out to you. You're his Baby, his Pretty Thing/Girl/Boy, so so good for him, taking it all like this. Oooh. Look. At. You. You can always tell when he's close because his panting turns to grunts, his sweet nothings become more intense as they strain between his teeth.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He's secretly a little self conscious about his body, particularly about his scars. Like, yeah, he's big and muscly and people always say they dig scars, but...some of his are, like, real nasty. Not to mention, that some of them have triggering memories attached to them. He finds his autopsy scar to be especially gross. It takes up so much of his chest and it doesn't seem to want to fade like the rest of his marks tend to do. So for a while when you first started having sex, he found ways around taking his shirt off. And if it did come off, it was in the dark. Once he works up the courage to finally show you all of him in proper light, he's surprised when you're more fascinated with it than anything. He can't suppress the shiver that runs down his spine when you press your lips to the crux of that T-shaped stamp. He probably won't ever love his scars, but he'll always adore the way you treat them.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He's a big guy and is very proportional. He's a solid 8 inches standing tall and girthy. He's a lot to take in, which is why he's very adamant about getting an orgasm out of you before penetration.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His libido is strong for you. As previously stated, he's not as sex charged as you would think, but he does have a strong desire for you. He initiates sex fairly regularly, but he doesn't feel the need to paw at your clothes 24/7.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He almost always waits until you fall asleep. If you manage to fall asleep quickly, then he'll follow suit typically.

[celestia-juniper-moonlight]

Goth gf thighs for your consideration

[sunnie-angel]

Sweetheart

inspired by @sanguineterrain’s hc about virgin! jason which truly has not left my mind since i read it.

rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 2.6k

tags: kissing, masturbation, loss of virginity, vaginal sex, creampie, overstimulation

Jason Todd’s just so goddamn sensitive, nerves set on a hair trigger, all the time. Call it a side effect of death or a fun little bonus from resurrection. Wherever it came from, it’s just part of his life now. And, see, normally it’s not a problem. In fact, it probably makes him better at this whole crime lord business. The slightest change in the airflow of a room tipping him off to an unseen assailant, the tremors traveling up the balls of his feet signalling an approaching vehicle, palm wrapped around a throat able to read a lie from a racing pulse. He’s adaptable like that, turning something that might have overwhelmed him into a weapon. It’s really not a problem.

Just like it’s not a problem that he’s never really been in love before. Between dying, then not dying, and an abrupt and burgeoning career in crime, well, dating hasn’t been very high on his list of priorities. It’s fine! So maybe he fucks his fist after a long night of patrol and wishes it were someone he was coming home to. He’s got more pressing things to worry about, important things. Red Hood things. His half-hidden fantasies and dog-eared classic romances can stay hidden under his bed forever, for all he cares.

He cares. Did he say he didn’t care? Well obviously that was a big fat lie. Jason nearly mows you down running across the park and the minute his hands close around your arms to steady you, he’s a goner. Heart eyes and tweety birds, the whole nine yards. Being in love with you’s the easiest thing Jason’s ever done. Maybe his hands shake a little more than they should the first time you ask him to dinner. Maybe he blurs the line between creepy and sweet by showing up at your doorstep with flowers less than 12 hours after your first date. He’s just new at this, that’s all. First time jitters.

There’s a lot of firsts, when it comes to you. The first time you hold his hand, he feels the the tips of his ears go hot. You kiss him on the cheek and he could swear NASA can see the colour of his cheeks from space. The very first time he kisses you – goodnight at your doorstep, meant to be chaste and brief – he’s half-hard in his pants the second he feels your breath on his skin. It’s a miracle, a sheer testament to all his will and training, that he doesn’t come in his pants on your doorstep at the taste of you.

Okay, so there’s some kinks he has to work out. He’s told you that he’s inexperienced. Well, more than inexperienced. A virgin, if you want to get all technical about it. You had smiled and told him the two of you could take it slow if he wanted. Which he didn’t. Want it slow, that is. That leads him to a new and persistent obsession with making it good for you, despite his current track record. Before you, the goal of getting off was efficiency. Hand slick and a few harsh tugs enough to have him spilling into a tissue. But that was before. He’s got a goal and a plan and Jason’s always been good with an objective.

He settles in and makes a mental note to get more lube. Gets his hand firm around his shaft because he knows, just knows, that the minute he starts teasing the head of his cock it’ll be over. Gives himself a few looser strokes just to get used to the sensation, gun callous catching on his foreskin and sending a frisson of pleasure up his spine. He watches his stomach muscles ripple and clench in retaliation. Begins to work his hand a little faster, adding a rough twist to each stroke that has him panting for breath. Pre starts beading at the tip of his cock and he swipes an errant thumb at it. He bucks and nearly moans at the sensation, the rough heated pad of his thumb setting his nerves on fire. Throws his head back eyes closed as his he increases the pace, lost to the burning heat building in his belly. He pictures your face smiling up at him on a particularly tight swipe over the head of his cock and comes harder than he ever has before, hot spurts decorating his stomach. His stopwatch reads 0:1:37. With a grunt, he reaches for his cock again.

By the time morning comes, far too soon and far too bright, Jason’s managed to increase his time. Not by much, but hey, that’s still progress in his book. He’s also discovered two new things about himself: 1) with just the right pressure he can stay hard between orgasms (hooray for illegal and mystical stimulant baths!), and 2) the image of you is more than enough to shove him over the edge, every single time. Fact number two may be a problem. ‘Cause if just the thought of you has him creaming in his pants like a pimply teen in a stiff breeze, having you under him in the flesh might actually kill him. It’s okay though, he’ll have more time to practice before you two get anywhere close to that. Or not.

The two of you are lying on your bed kissing, the kind of slow, lazy make-out that wouldn’t really be going anywhere only Jason’s got your thigh rubbing up in between his legs and that same hair trigger sensitivity. He swears he can almost feel the soft heat of your skin through the rough drag of denim. Your plush lips open wider and he surges forward, eager to notch himself closer. He’s clumsy like this, limbs too big and uncoordinated with you under him. His hips start undulating of their own accord at the extra friction, and you slip a hand into the back pocket of his jeans to urge him on. It’s good, so good, God why did he never realize it could be this good? The sensation of you below him, warm and solid, and the rough-pressure-heat on his cock is all it takes. You swallow his moan as he comes in his pants, wet splotch blooming darkly. His hands tighten around you. Jason pants and moans into your throat, hips weakly grinding his cock against you through it. Red-faced, it takes him longer than it should to realize that you’re cooing at him.

“–good, sweetheart? You were so good for me, taking what you needed.”

Shame and embarrassment light him up, battling with the litany of sweetheart, sweetheart, she called me sweetheart currently striking him dumb. He buries his face into your neck, can feel the temperature difference between his flaming cheeks and your skin.

“’M sorry,” he says meekly, “I didn’t mean to come so fast. Swear it. I’ll do better next time.” Worry curls in his stomach, faint echoes of embarrassment about leaving you unsatisfied. Can’t bear to look you in the eye, feeling stripped back and vulnerable as he is. His hips are still working against yours, grinding the sensitive head of his cock into his damp boxers. You laugh.

“What’re you talking about, Jay? You were perfect, so perfect for me sweetheart.” And Jason wants to crawl out of his skin because ‘perfect’ is not a word that gets applied to him often. Not one that he thought applied now, coming in his pants so quickly, before he’s even made you feel good. Ignoring the stubborn prickling at the backs of his eyes and the warmth quickly spreading down his chest, he kisses the sweet column of your throat.

“Wanna return the favour,” he whines, licking up the salt of your skin. Your grip tightens in his hair.

“Yeah? You gonna be good for me again?” you tease, breathless. One of your hands grips his own, glides it down to the elasticized waistband of your underwear.

Jason’s pretty sure he’s been electrified when he feels just how wet you are. He’s also pretty sure this is the closest he’s ever gotten to a pretty girl’s underwear too. Thick fingers glide easily between your folds. You’re hotter than he expected, slick collecting in his palm. His index finger catches on your entrance, thumb hunting for your clit. He knows he’s found it when you sigh into his ear, and he grins. Maybe he’s not so bad at this whole sex thing after all. Slowly, he starts to spear you open on one thick finger and chokes. Jason’s never felt anything so fucking tight. He groans into your collarbone. Your walls tighten up around him at the vibration and it goes straight to his cock. If he hadn’t just come, he’d be making a mess in his pants right now. Again. The thought of how good your slick, wet, heat would feel squeezing around his cock vice-like has him lightheaded.

“Can I– please can I?” he begs, delirious with how badly he wants this.

“Gotta use your words, sweetheart,” you say breathlessly, voice hitching as he fucks his finger back into you. “Need to ask for what you want.”

“Please, please, can I fuck you? Want it. Want it so bad,” Jason whines. He can taste the want, sparks dancing on his tongue, blood rushing in his ears. His whole body aches with it.

“S’all you had to say, sweetheart.” A hand grips him through his damp jeans and he bucks into the touch, a writhing mass of nerves and need. “You gonna take care of me? Huh?” The zipper inches down and he almost sobs. “Gonna be good to me, sweetheart?” All the air rips out of his lungs at the burning brand of a palm finally touching his spent cock. 

Jason doesn’t recognize his own voice, high and reedy, babbling “I promise, I promise, I promise.” He’s gasping, greedy, mouth open and searching blindly for yours. 

He whimpers – the Red Hood honest to god whimpers – when you pull away. His brain starts to come back online when you start tugging at the hem of his shirt and he almost face plants into the mattress in his eagerness to get his pants and shirt off at the same time. You laugh as your bra hits the floor somewhere to the side of the bed and pull him down for another kiss, a soft nip at the swell of his bottom lip that has him trailing after you. Your legs open to cradle his hips and Jason figures this must be the next best thing to paradise. He shudders at the pressure of his cock trapped between your bellies.

“Now you’re gonna give me all–” you give a slow roll of your hips that has Jason’s vision going blurry at the feeling of every inch of him trapped between you, “– of that. You’re gonna be this–” another slow, filthy roll that has him cotton-mouthed, “–deep in me, sweetheart, and you’re gonna keep fucking me until I tell you to stop.” Your hand at the nape of his neck pulls his hair back until he’s looking right in the eye. It’s a hungry, dark stare that greets him and Jason thinks that if this is what it’s like to be eaten alive, he’ll die a happy man (if you’ll let him).

He gets so distracted by the wicked grin on your face that he barely notices the hand guiding his cock to your entrance until the head is pushing into your burning heat. His mouth snaps shut and his jaw clenches, desperate to keep it together. Your legs lock around him, urging him forward. Inch by inch he slowly thrusts his way into you, sanity hanging on by a thread as he fights the urge to just fuck into your tight cunt. Finally, finally, his hips meet yours, cock fully sheathed inside of another person for the first time. He pants open mouthed into the side of your neck, trying so hard to be good for you. 

“Not a virgin now, are you sweetheart?” you whisper, hand stroking through his sweaty curls. “Now move.”

Like a shot from one of his beloved .45s, Jason starts pistoning into you, pulling his cock out until it’s almost slipping out and hammering right back in to the hilt. You’re tight, so fucking tight that he doesn’t know how he’s ever gonna go back to his fist after this. His rhythm’s sloppy, cunt drunk and chasing his next high but he can’t make himself stop. Sweat beads on his chest and tears dot his lashes. He howls as you cant your hips up and drag a hand across his chest, nails catching on a nipple. The slippery clutch of your cunt burns away all his good intentions, just a mewling, writhing creature desperate to feel good. The burning heat in his gut is building, his arms trembling from exertion. Its too soon, too soon for him to be ready to come again but the high in his veins and the tenseness in his belly are screaming otherwise.

It’s not fair, he’s– he’s trying so hard and it’s not fair because you haven’t even come once and here he is being greedy and about to come again. It’s not fair. There’s real tears of frustration beading up in his eyes now, face and body flushed red, sticky sweet.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’msorryI’msorryM’sorry,” he keens, high and hysterical as he comes, hot pulsing spurts deep inside you. He’s not– it’s not stopping God why is it not stopping? He’s never come for this long but it just won’t stop and he can’t move, not with your ankles locked so tight around his hips. Jason’s face burns with the shame, eyes screwed up tight and trying not to tear the sheets fisted in his hands. A hand cups his face, runs a thumb lovingly over a cheekbone until he screws up the courage to crack open his eyes a smidge.

“There’s my sweetheart. Doing so well for me.” A finger brushes away the tear threatening to fall from the corner of his eye. “Felt so good you just couldn’t stop yourself from coming again, hmm?” you clench down on his cock and the punched out sound that leaves him has Jason shying away in embarrassment. “None of that now. Not when you’re being so good.” You bite down on the tendon in his neck, grinning around your teeth as his whole body shudders, before laving a broad tongue over it. “You’ve still gotta job to do, don’t you? Gotta fuck all of your cum into me, gotta keep it where it belongs.”

Jelly limbed, its easy to push Jason onto his back. His cock never even leaves your cunt. Gravity does all the work as you spear yourself open on him. He moans, high punched out little things, cock bullying even deeper into you. Jason’s so sensitive now, riding the edge of pleasure-pain like a knife. He feels flayed open, nerves raw, as you grind and clench yourself up and down his shaft. You pull one of his palms to your breast, teach him how to squeeze it, the way you like having your nipples pinched and rolled. You ride him and every time you pull off of him Jason holds his breath until you’re fucked back down onto him. He’s so overstimulated it hurts, teeth grinding as you continue to fuck him for your pleasure, like he’s just the guy that happens to be attached to a fat dick.

“I didn’t say to stop, did I?”

[sister-lucifer]

CACKLING......cartoon Penis dividers? -marc

🔞Cartoon Penis Dividers🔞

In a variety of human and non human skin tones for whatever you may need

a/n: this is easily the silliest set i’ve ever made. it was very fun

please like, reblog, & credit if you use!

[DIVIDER REQUESTS ARE OPEN!]

DNI: TERFS, endo, proship, pro ana, nazi, MAPs, zoophiles

tag list: @odysseuscore @ghostboneswrites2

[sanguineterrain]

Can't stop thinking about virgin!Jason, who comes too fast the first few times you have sex. God, can you imagine the mortification on his face? Here he is with the love of his life, you, you amazing, beautiful, incredible person that he's pined for ages over, and he's nervous and excited to be able to share this intimacy with you.

But your touch just feels so good. Hell, you're not even touching his cock much. Jason's just so starved for touch and his brain is hot and sticky and you kiss him hard and bite his neck and lick his nipples. And it's just too much.

Oh, his face would be delicious. Horrified, yes, but cheeks dark with pleasure and embarrassment. His lashes would be wet with the same. It's the first time you've ever seen him blush to his chest.

And he's such a big guy. Big guy, big dick, lots of cum. He nearly cries over how much he comes. Why won't it stop? Hasn't he humiliated himself enough in front of you? He feels your eyes on him as he comes and comes, making a mess all over his thighs and belly.

Jason tries to cover his face as he blurts a flurry of apologies. God, he's so sorry! He practiced holding off, he really did! He just got so excited, so caught up in the way you were looking at him and touching him and calling him a good boy, telling him how pretty he is and how much you love him.

And then he feels your hands on his wrists, gently revealing himself to you. Yes, you're gentle, as always, but there's an urgency. A hunger. Oh. You... still want him? You're not disgusted?

No, quite the opposite. You want to watch him make a mess of himself all over again.

[theysies]

got some fun spooky halloween content coming up soon 👀

[best-of-yandere]

NSFT DC Cockwarming and Lactation Kink Headcanons

NO MINORS, 18+ ONLY

tw: yandere, public sex, dub-con somnophila, food tampering

Cockwarming ft. Bruce, Dick, Tim, Clark

Bruce: he’d have you warm him while he’s on the batcomputer (facing towards him so that you can’t see the horrors on the screen). His biggest motivation for doing this is so he doesn’t lose himself in his research and the crimes on the screen; you clenching around him brings him back to you, and thus himself.

He’d also want to try it in his office during boring phone calls/meetings. He’ll be in a conference call with some nobody shareholders, while you’re twitching around him. It’ll inevitably turn into him fucking you over his desk trying so hard to keep his voice level (and you quiet) while you’re creaming around him.

Dick: he’s always active, always moving around, but being buried inside you gives him a chance to relax for once…although it always turns into more. Him humping you and cumming over and over until he’s finally exhausted and truly allows himself to relax and stay still. At least until he falls asleep, still buried in you, then his wet dreams (about you) take over and he’s humping you in his sleep. He just can’t get enough of you, even when he’s unconscious.

Tim: this boy is exhausted – yet he refuses to go to sleep, kept too busy by paperwork or cases. Unless, of course, you lull him to sleep with your warmth. It’s the best way to bribe him to go to bed, by spreading your legs and and easing him inside, cuddling with him, your face in his neck and his cock in your pussy. He’ll stay in there as long as he can before the inevitable emergency rises him from his slumber.

Clark: he’d be into cockwarming due to not having a refractory period. When you’re exhausted but he’s still ready to go he can just let your post-orgasm clenching bring him to the edge and past it again. He stays inside you during the night, only separating from your warmth when he has to go to work/patrol.

Lactation kink with Damian, Bruce, Jason, and Tim

Damian: he’s obviously got a breeding kink, and lactation ties into that. It means he’s been successful and you body is providing the means to nourish the child you’ve made together. But he starts thinking that if it could nourish a baby, why not him as well? Used to his breeding kink, the agreement to let him have a taste comes easy. And once he does, he can’t stop. It’s a part of YOU inside him, feeding him, giving him strength. He’s insatiable, which means he’ll just have to keep you pregnant (and as a consequence, never be able to leave him).

Bruce & Jason: both would be into breastfeeding for the same reason – comfort. They’ve both been through a lot of trauma and loss, haunted by horrors that give them nightmares, keeping them up at night. Suckling on their darlings’ breasts and drinking your milk (something that is made to give life, not take it) brings an instinctual comfort that helps lull them back to sleep in your arms.

Tim: his way of indulging in your milk is different than the rest of his family. He’ll have you pump it so he can put it in his coffee, cereal, and any food you make him, sometimes just drinking it plain in a glass. He thinks it’s romantic; you giving a part of yourself to him, him making it a part of himself. You creating something that gives life, giving it to him, to feed and nourish him. And of course, he’ll return the favor by sneaking some of his “milk” into what you consume; he’s just a romantic like that.

[heycallmered]

reblog if you're jealous of blåhaj

[gilverrwrites]

Which Batboy gets the biggest kick out of using a vibrator on you?

Oohhh this is a toughie, I really had to think on it for a while. Because, I think Tim definitely is the most drawn to using toys. He likes experimenting, and learning how you tick. He wants to know which toys make you weak and pliable, and which ones make you feral and impatient. Tim wants to know how to wind you up and satiate you in one fell swoop. He's a power switch and he wants you wrapped around his lil finger.

But then, I recon Dick would enjoy it because he loves to wear you down. He likes the after-effects, likes to make a mess of you and knows that your panting, twitching body, your sex-drunk haze is all because of him. But toys aren't a necessity, if anything they retract from the achievement.

So ultimately, the honour has to go to Jason. He would not be the first to suggest it, in fact, if it's his idea it's only because you hinted at it first. But boy, does that man get enchanted watching you come undone for him.

No matter how many times you lose yourself with your hands in his hair and his name on your lips, he will never understand the effect he has on you. But damn if he isn't grateful to have a front-row seat; to be the object of your affections.

So when you add the intensity of a vibrator…When you're twitching and cooing with your nails in his back, when it does all the work for him and you're still begging him to kiss you, to talk dirty to you, fuck, he- can't, he just, wow, how did he get so lucky? You know?

[celestia-juniper-moonlight]

Lacy 🖤

[thatwriterchick222]

snakebite (arthur morgan x f/reader) oneshot

summary: you get bitten by a snake and arthur has to suck the venom out... what could go wrong?

----------------

“Shit…” You cursed under your breath, clutching at your thigh as you fought to push down the pain of the snake’s venom coursing through your veins. It was a deep bite, and you barely caught a glimpse of the thing before it slithered away. But the throbbing in your flesh was enough to know it was venomous.

Your horse had gotten spooked by the snake and bucked you off, fleeing for the treeline. The wind was knocked out of you as you hit the ground and unfortunately landed right on top of the reptile. Deciding it had had enough, it lunged and bit your thigh, rightfully so. Its fangs shot through the material of your skirt and bloomers, down into your muscle. 

Thankfully, Arthur wasn’t too far behind.

“What the hell?” He asked as he pulled his horse to a stop, seemingly confused by your horse running off and finding you lying on your back in the grass.

You were lightheaded. Nauseous. “A damn snake bit me.” In an effort to sit up, you pressed down harder on your bite, hoping to at least slow the venom as it seeped further into you.

What an embarrassing way to go. Especially in front of Arthur, of all people. 

“Christ.” He said, quickly stepping down from his horse. He made his way over to you as you managed to sit up against a tree, breaking out into a sweat. 

“I don’t feel too good.”

Arthur knelt down to your level, his eyes scanning yours with a sudden urgency that made your throat close up. “Don’t look too good ‘neither.” 

“Thanks.” You chuckled.

He reached forward and felt your forehead with the back of his hand, and your heart fluttered in your chest.

Even on your deathbed, you could not suppress your lasting crush on Arthur Morgan. Pathetic.

“Where’d it getcha?” He asked, looking down to where your hand clutched your leg. 

You lifted your hand, “My thigh.”

“Okay…” He thought for a quick moment, scooting closer to you. “Lift your skirt up.”

You froze, swallowing thickly with your dry mouth. “I- Alright.”

Trying to ignore his wording and the pit in your stomach, you did as he said, pulling your linen skirt up to expose the small patch of blood on your white bloomers. 

Without a word, Arthur grabbed the fabric, pulling at the holes where the small fangs had broken through, and ripped them wide, exposing the wound. 

“What are you doing?”

“Gettin’ the venom out.”

You blinked, feeling the warm pads of his fingers brush your skin. “How?”

His hand reached under your knee, pulling your leg up, and you nearly flinched. Not because you were scared, but because you didn’t want him to know how much you liked it. 

His eyes darted up to yours. “I gotta suck it out.”

You took a sharp breath in, adjusting your body awkwardly. “Oh.”

Then, as quickly as he had ripped your bloomers apart, he bent down, gripping your thigh tightly as he brought his mouth to your bite. 

And it stung like all hell. He created a suction and you felt as if you were being bitten all over again, a searing pain overcoming the area as you gasped. 

But there was still something very erotic about all of this. And you scolded yourself for thinking it. If someone were to pass by, they would see a cowboy with his head buried in your lap, and that brought a blush to your cheeks as he pulled away, turning to the side and spitting the venom out into the grass.

When he went back in, it hurt even worse, the numbness from your adrenaline wearing off. He sucked especially hard, and you grit your teeth, instinctively reaching forward and grabbing his arm. “Arthur–”

He pulled away again, spitting into the grass. When he turned back, he looked at you, his eyes strangely dark and his brow furrowed in concentration. Why was his face so close to yours? Maybe it was the venom. It had gotten to your head. Your skin was heating up, and your heart pounded hard in your ribcage. His hands were on your thigh, your fingers digging into the arm of his shirt, and you only stared back at him.

He broke the eye contact and went back down, this time only sucking lightly. You assumed he had gotten what he could out of your body. But your belly was warm and you felt the overwhelming urge to get closer to him, your body pulsing with pain and… arousal.

You pressed your lips together in pain, and when he sucked one last time, a whimper fell from your lips. But he didn’t suck anything out of you like he did before. His lips were on your skin and then they weren’t, and then they were back, landing higher up your thigh. Your hand loosened on his bicep and you didn’t know why, but you started rubbing him with your thumb. 

You couldn’t see his face under the brim of his hat, but you felt him move his mouth higher, his teeth grazing you and his beard scratching against your skin. It tickled. His fingers dug into your thigh, and you drew in a breath, a suspenseful silence overtaking you.

A sudden bravery took over your body. You scooted closer to him, and he moved even further up, his lips pressing lightly against your skin. Was he… kissing you?

You swallowed when his nose brushed your inner thigh. And then you spread your knees further apart.

Any pain you had was replaced with the burning ache for him to touch you. 

“Arthur.” You finally got the willpower to croak out his name, but you didn’t know what else to say. You said his name like a question, but also like a request. A demand. Like you wanted him to stop, but you also never wanted him to stop.

He halted anyway, lifting his lips from your skin, the coolness of the breeze on it telling you that you were wet with his saliva. He didn’t look up. He kept his face hidden by the brim of his hat. 

You could slice the tension in the air with your knife. But why would you want to? You had been waiting for a moment like this for the entire time you had known him.

He was always shy, and barely ever spoke about how he felt. You figured you would have to make some move or give him some hint… but now, at such an inopportune time… he seemed to want something from you too.

Were you drunk on adrenaline and snake venom? Probably. Was he taking advantage of you in a vulnerable state? Maybe. 

You lifted your leg, shuffling even closer. You couldn’t speak. And neither could he. But somehow there was this silent agreement that you both wanted something. You lifted your skirt higher, and he finally looked up at you.

He almost looked like a different man. His jaw was clenched, his pupils large and his eyes burning into yours like a wolf hunting its prey. There was a smudge of your blood on his bottom lip.

You nodded. Please don’t stop.

With just as much urgency as he had when trying to potentially save your life, he quickly reached for the waist of your bloomers and pulled them down. If it had been any other man in any other scenario, you would have hidden yourself in embarrassment and covered your eyes so you didn’t have to see him see you.

But it was Arthur. And he was quickly lifting your legs, pulling your hips up and closer to him, and burying his face in between them. He didn’t have time to take it slow, and you didn’t care, your insides pulsing and your face going hot. Your bloomers were still around your ankles, and his hat was still hiding his face as his breath was on your cunt. 

You lay back against the tree and he dove into you, his tongue exploring you aggressively, drinking you in with such passion you thought you might pass out. It suddenly occurred to you as you cried out that you were only meters away from the dirt road, barely hidden by the grass. Now, if someone passed by, it would look like you had a cowboy’s face in your lap because… you did.

Your hand flew to your mouth when he began to suck on you, those same lips that had just been sucking snake venom out of your leg moments prior. Your thighs clenched around his head, threatening to knock his hat off, but you kind of liked it on. He couldn’t see you, and you couldn’t see him. There was some level of anonymity to this act, like maybe for just a moment you could be different people and not have to deal with the aftermath of your actions.

But fuck, he was good. It made you question if he had been practicing on someone. Who had he been practicing on? He could practice on you for the rest of your life if he wanted.

You bucked your hips into his mouth when he groaned into you, already finding yourself nearing your breaking point. His tongue was rough but rhythmic, and it was so quiet outside you could hear the squelching of your wetness against his mouth. 

The feeling was building up inside you. You were floating, you were grinding yourself on his nose. Your eyes darted to your snake bite, red and swollen, and to your torn bloomers around your ankles, and to Arthur’s arms holding your legs as he bent over, doing something fucking incredible with his tongue.

You cried out as you came in his mouth, your hand finding his forearm, digging your nails into it. Your back arched and your hips bucked, shuddering with the feeling of it. He groaned into your core, seemingly just as pleased to feel you come as you were to come, and he slowly let you ride it out.

Catching your breath, you looked around, slowly coming back into yourself and realizing where you were. What you both had done.

Arthur’s grip on your legs slowly loosened, and when he pulled away from you, his eyes avoided yours. He lifted your leg and untangled himself from you and your bloomers. You wanted to rip his hat off and look at him. You wanted to kiss him. To taste yourself on his lips.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, clearing his throat. “Sorry.”

You sat up, your bare ass scraping against the dirt. And you couldn’t help but laugh. 

Sorry? He was apologizing? Like he didn’t know what came over him. Like he couldn’t help but make me come on his tongue. A simple mistake. Oops. You laughed harder, pulling your bloomers up. The pain of your bite suddenly came back to you, and you winced as the fabric rubbed against it. 

He finally looked up at you from under the brim of his hat as you managed to get your bloomers back up. Then he let out a chuckle.

You wanted to return the favour. You sat up and were about to reach for him, grab him and touch him and maybe provide him with an ounce of the pleasure he just gave you, but suddenly a voice came from the road.

“What the–”

You and Arthur both quickly looked up, seeing a man on his horse staring at the two of you with confusion. 

You were still flushed, and coated in a sheen of sweat, and your skirt was pulled up as Arthur knelt beside you. Oddly enough, it actually was exactly what it looked like.

“Snakebite.” You fought your smile, looking down at your leg as you spoke to the man.

Arthur nodded, “Had to… suck the venom out–” He stood up, and you noticed the bulge in his pants. Thankfully, he turned away from the man before he noticed. 

“We should get you to a doctor,” Arthur said, reaching his hand out to you as if nothing had happened. You were still burning from your orgasm, but you pushed your skirt down and grabbed his hand, allowing him to pull you up.

“Well,” The man cleared his throat. “Good luck, then.”

###

You both rode back to camp in silence. 

You wanted to pretend nothing happened, but you couldn’t help but watch Arthur keep adjusting himself in the saddle, clearly uncomfortable with how hard he was. To be honest, you had never experienced a man do something like that and not expect you to return the favour. But, you liked the idea of it, the taste of you in his mouth making him harder than ever. It clearly wasn’t going away, either, because he probably couldn’t stop thinking about it.

You smiled, kicking your horse to ride up next to him. “Need a little help there?” Your eyes flicked down his body, and he looked at you out of the corner of his eye. His cheeks were adorably red, and he looked away again. 

“Let’s just get back to camp, first.” He reached down and moved his belt slightly, trying to ease the pressure. “Make sure you ain’t dyin’ on us.”

You smirked. “And what if I am?”

“Then we’ll need to work fast.” He shot you a look.

You felt your cheeks go just as red as his. “I can do fast.”

[mvttslvt]

tell me i’m a pretty boy

[sanguineterrain]

temptation | jason todd

Summary: Still unsure about where you stand with your knight, you tiptoe around each other. Then you find him in a compromising position and learn more than you imagined ever knowing.

Pairing: knight!Jason Todd x AFAB!reader (no pronouns used)

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings/tags: smut 18+ only, male masturbation, voyeurism (dubcon because jason doesn't know he's being watched but jason very much wants the reader), whipping, self-flagellation, religious themes and guilt, breeding kink, somewhat submissive jason. arranged marriage themes. reader has been forced to live with jason.

A/N: i continue to be insane about knight jaytodd :)

the divider

Despite the lack of communication, a routine has been established between you and Jason.

Sometimes you cook, sometimes he cooks. Sometimes he goes to the market, sometimes you do.

Lately you've taken to doing the washing in the brook nearby. The summer heat makes the water refreshing. A few times, while Jason was away, you went upstream to play in the river. You don't know why you hid that from him. He does the same thing when he goes to bathe. You think about that every time—specifically, you remember the glimpse of his bare chest and broad shoulders.

It feels strange and maybe a little perverted to go to the river while Jason's home and think about his body. So you wait until he's out.

The house is empty. You've returned early from the market, so you carry the basket of dirty clothes to the brook.

And about halfway down the path, you hear it. Quick, choppy breaths.

You set down the basket and hide behind a tree. You peek first, not knowing what to expect. An animal? An intruder?

You see black curls, then the side profile of a sharp nose, a flushed cheek, parted lips.

Jason's shirt is untucked, shirt tails carelessly in the mud. His trousers have been shoved down. He's standing beside a tree, back to the water.

In his hand is his cock.

You've never seen one up close before. It looks big, even in Jason's already big hand. The tip is a deep crimson, slick with precum.

Jason's sounds are tight. You can barely hear him, but from the way he strokes himself, you see that he's very aroused.

"God, for–forgive me," he whispers, and speeds up. "I have given into t-temptation, ngh."

You squeeze your legs together, confused and alarmed by what the sight does to you. You can't tear your eyes from his hand and the thatch of hair peeking underneath his fist every time he moves.

You imagine him pushing into you. How full you would feel! And of course, impregnation. No doubt that Jason would impregnate you quickly.

Where would he take you? He's such a solemn, quiet man. You don't know if he'd take you anywhere but in his bed, between the sheets. Slowly, gently.

But as you watch him stroke himself, abuse himself and tug his cock hard, the thought of Jason taking you roughly flashes through your mind.

You'd like to be bent over in the kitchen, perhaps. Fucked on the table. You can hear its creaking as Jason thrusts into you, how he'd have to stop and steady himself so as not to snap the legs in two. He would pet your neck, your face, apologize as he wrecked you. And you would forgive him because he wouldn't be able to help it; all rational thought would leave your sweet knight once he pushed his fat cock into you.

You'd give him easy access that night. Serve his dinner and, in a moment of forgetfulness, bend down and show your puffy cunt, ready for him to push into.

You imagine how he'd stiffen, how he'd inhale sharply and pretend not to notice. Would he play with your cunt if you begged? Spread you across his lap and finger you until you shook with desire? Your beautiful knight, who so intently protects your honor. You'd give him your honor and more.

The sound of your name pulls you out of your head. Panic lances through you; have you been caught?

But no, Jason is still flushed and unaware. His eyes are a little wet. He says your name again and thrusts into his hand. More tears run down his cheeks.

"Forgive me," he says, then comes.

He's louder as he comes. He bites the soft curve of his thumb to muffle his sounds. Long spurts of seed coat his hand, and Jason soon forgoes muffling his moans and instead covers his cock with both hands to contain his release. But it's so much that it leaks through his fingers, dribbling onto his pants and into the dirt. He cries the entire time, cheeks dark. Eventually, the cries become high, sticky whines. He leans against a tree, cock soft.

Jason would breed you in the first go. You understand this. It's certain he would refuse you, were you brave enough to proposition him. You would be heavy with his child within the week.

He turns his head and you quickly duck behind the tree, holding your breath. You pray he hasn't seen you.

But Jason rustles in the grass after a moment, so you relax. You wish you could show yourself but whatever this is between you two is delicate and strange and won't be cured with sex. It won't.

You go further than normal and wash the clothes there, taking over an hour. You splash yourself with water before making the trek back to the house.

Jason isn't there when you return, so you hang the laundry alone, dreaming about a hot mouth on your neck and fingers inside of you.

You awaken the next morning to the sound of a whip.

The first time fades into the background. But the next three lashes make you get out of bed.

There's no sound that follows the lashes, which is the oddest part. No whinnies or animal squeals.

You go out barefooted, dirt already warm from the sun. Jason is in the yard.

In his right hand is the whip. On his back are four thin, bloody welts.

"Jason!" you say, hurrying to the yard.

He turns his head at the sound of your voice. Then he turns around and whips himself three more times in succession.

Your eyes widen. You grab his wrist with both hands, pulling hard. Jason drops the whip and stumbles back, slipping out of your grip.

He looks at you wide-eyed, chest heaving.

"I'm sorry," he says. "Have I... did I wake you?"

"Yes, of course you woke me! Why are you doing that?"

He immediately looks wracked with guilt. You soften, upset at yourself for being so harsh and frightened by your boldness. Have you forgotten your place so easily?

Then again, Jason's not so good at keeping you in your place either.

"It's alright that you woke me," you say. "I'm not angry about that."

Jason shakes his head. "I should've been quieter. Self-punishment deserves no spectator."

"Why are you punishing yourself?"

"Because I—" He shakes his head. "I have sinned. I have been... selfish. Desired things that aren't mine to want."

You reach for him, comfort like an instinct. Jason backs away.

"Please," he says, chest heaving. "Please don't touch me. I beg you."

His words sting. You drop your hand.

"You don't need to punish yourself," you say carefully. "You've done nothing wrong. You've... you've been nothing but kind to me."

Jason shakes his head. "If you knew..."

His eyes sweep over your body. You watch as guilt overtakes him.

"I have lost sight of my duty. I must overcome my desires."

"You're allowed to have desires," you say.

"Not these," he says heavily.

You watch him for a moment. He stares unseeingly in the distance. Blood from his back drips on the ground.

You take a deep breath and pull down one shoulder of your night shirt. Then you pull the other. Jason's head darts back. His eyebrows go to his hairline.

Neither of you move for a moment. Then you pull your shirt down further. Air hits your skin. You're almost to your nipples.

You look at Jason. He swallows hard and tries to angle his body away from you. It doesn't work. You stare openly at his bulge. Just the suggestion of your body gets him hard and ready.

"I'm sorry," he says, eyes wet. "Please—God, please forgive me."

Something alights in you at the thought of Jason's obedience. He may think his capacity to breed is a sin, but his body can't help but react. He's ashamed of how quickly his cock fattens, eager to spurt.

You wonder if he'd hardened shortly after he came yesterday afternoon. If he'd cried in embarrassment at how fast his body betrayed him, demanding he release his desire.

Even after a whipping, he's hard for you. Would he still be hard if you were the one holding the whip? Would he come if you struck him?

You pull down your shirt and release one breast. The air hardens your nipple.

Jason whines low in his throat, strangled and desperate.

"Please," he whispers. "Take mercy."

This is insanity. What will you do? Strip and have him take you in the mud?

Truthfully, you'd much rather he shamefully comes in the dirt. Even if it is a waste of seed. You like how dark his cheeks get.

So, you stop. Jason looks to the sky, likely praying for forgiveness.

"I'm going to make tea," you say, shirt still lowered.

He nods, body tight with tension. You walk across the yard and back inside. Then you pull up your shirt and prepare tea.

As the water boils, the whip whistles through the air six more times.

[theysies]

just standing there. menacingly

[gilverrwrites]

AK!Jason who’s inexperienced but far from stupid when it comes to the fairer sex. Once he has you captured with your hands strung up over your head, he knows what he wants to do. His touch is exploratory as he plays with you, noting everything that gets a reaction out of you, like he’s testing some hypothesis. He lets his hands roam your entire body, pausing over your stomach as he marvels over the fact that he could just put a baby in you if he wanted. He fixates on your breasts and slobbers all over them, rubbing his cheek against your nipple before crouching to observe the prize between your legs, the one that no one - not even Batman - can keep him from winning. As he gets more excited, his grip goes from curious to possessive, his observations becoming crude comments, thriving on the fact that he can touch you all he wants but you can’t lay a finger on him, because this Jason can’t stay nice for long.

Anon, dear sweet lovely anon, this will haunt my every waking moment for the forseeable future. What a delight.

Thinking about him incidentally brushing his bare hand across that spot for the first time, whichever one turns you on the most; your neck, your spine, your waist and laughing at how you shiver and whimper for him.

His probing fingers delving between your slit, and something in his brain switches from the aforementioned curiosity to possessiveness when he feels how wet you are. For him. Even chained up and at his mercy, you're body responds to him because it knows you belong to him.

Gently squeezing your clit for the first time and aweing at how your body shudders, at how your folds practically begin to drip, at how soft and warm your inner walls feel when he sinks two fingers in, twisting and scissoring, gaging how well his cock will fit in there, and ooohhh baby, he just knows that tight little cunt was made to fit him just right, and if it doesn’t, he will make it.

I’m just trying to decide logistically which of the following is hotter, cause obviously his helmet has to be off for this. But do you know it’s Jason feeling you up, treating you like an experiment, having his was with your body? Can you see him? See the resemblance to that boy you once knew through all the age progression and scars?

Or are you perhaps blindfolded? Because he’s not ready for you know his identity just yet, because he wants to see if, even on a subconscious level, if you’ll figure it out or if you’re so fucking dirty and desperate you’ll let anyone have at you.

Or maybe it doesn’t matter because you don’t know him at all, he was long dead by the time you came on the scene. Batman’s previous sidekick, a footnote in a story you were never a part of. But he knows you. Joker put your picture on the wall of his cell, his replacement, in his role, wearing his clothes.

He’s been watching you closely ever since he started following Bruce. He knows everything there is to know about the girl who took his place. He knows what shampoo you use, how you take your coffee, where your spare suits are stashed, how you often forget to close your curtains at night when you’re sleeping naked in his old bed. You don’t know him at all, but you’re about to become very well acquainted.