firefighter!Jason Todd who first met you when you had inexplicably set fire to a toast (don't ask) and set off the fire alarm, activating a building-wide evacuation process;
firefighter!Jason Todd who was the one to walk into your apartment and extinguish the small fire;
firefighter!Jason Todd who then gave you the talk about kitchen safety and how to extinguish different types of fires;
firefighter!Jason Todd who received a visit from you the next day at the station. You came with a box of cookies (store bought, because the memory of the fire is still too fresh in your mind for you to attempt any cooking yourself) and thanked him for his service. It definitely wasn't all an excuse to see the hot firefighter again and slip him a note with your phone number;
firefighter!Jason Todd who later got teased by the whole station, but he couldn't care less. Not when he had just secured himself a date with you;
firefighter!Jason Todd who insists that his redundancy to let you near the stove once you start living together has nothing to do with how the two of you first met;
firefighter!Jason Todd who's lying;
firefighter!Jason Todd who looks so hot in uniform, making you ache with want whenever he has to leave for one of his long shifts;
firefighter!Jason Todd who pretends not to be flattered when you buy multiple copies of the calendar the station has made for charity. What can you say? The pictures of your shirtless boyfriend are worth the money;
firefighter!Jason Todd who doesn't get it. Why do you need the calendar when you have the real thing at home?
firefighter!Jason Todd who secretly loves when you stop by at the station to bring him the lunch box he has so conveniently forgotten at home that morning;
firefighter!Jason Todd who, when asked by his colleagues when he'll put a ring on your finger, has to refrain himself from telling them that he has already bought one.
A/N: I wrote this in a whim so it's probably really shitty, but I can't get the thought of firefighter!jason out of my head.
thinking about teasing an inexperienced!rookie leon during sex.
you’re kissing him so slow and your hands are everywhere but where he wants them to be and he’s practically whimpering because he’s so hard it hurts.
leon’s basically begging, mumbling “please”’s through every rough breath, but he looks so cute down there. you can’t help toying with him a bit more.
you drag your hand down his chest slowly before running your fingers along the utility belt around his waist. his hips buck forward, desperate for any type of friction. any form of release.
he lets out a sharp breath as you undo each clasp of his belt unbearably slowly.
when his pants finally come off, leon wastes no time splaying down under you. he grabs your hands, his eyes blown wide and pupils dilated.
when you pull back on your heels instead, leon actually cries out. a full whimper-groan mix of pure devastation.
before you can begin to feel guilt for overly teasing him, he shoves his hands far down his boxers, not bothering to kick them off with his jeans.
leon moans out as he twists his own head with one hand, the other just now moving to push down his boxers, which were sticky with pre-cum.
“just like that baby.” you found yourself encouraging it before you even realized.
with each stroke of his hand, leon’s cock twitches—seemingly towards you. your name punched out of his throat like a broken receipt machine, accompanying each whimper and moan.
wow, that was really fucking hot.
leon whined as he moved towards you, begging you through shakes and gasps for any type of release.
“use your words, leon.”
“i’m so close.” the words were so sweet leaving his mouth.
you moved towards him, erasing what space you had traded for the sake of a front-row view. your eyebrows went up first before you even opened your mouth. then, you pressed a long open-mouthed kiss to leon’s mouth and he was gone.
squeezing, stroking, probably close to punching himself, anything. he was desperate to come.
your hand covered his and he whined into your mouth.
you were going to take matter into your own hands. quite literally.
note: i have like six open smut drafts rn and this is the only one ive brought myself to finish (get it❓), but this is generally one of the first times ive written smut so please don’t hang me at the stake
the last physical piece jason has of his mother comes in the form of a self-help book–one bruce found and preserved following his passing.
the book is an unbearably cruel reminder most days, but he can’t ever bring himself to leave it’s odd comfort behind. its gone everywhere with him for years; from safe house to safe house, from his apartment to your now-shared one.
yet, no matter where he takes it, it’s very rare he lets anyone hold it. with exceptions to usually only you–save for the time he let roy borrow it for an evening.
jason reads his book every night before bed, despite how it weighs on his mind after. how the thoughts about “if” and “why” linger.
some nights, he’s too tired to read–too upset about the past or too overwhelmed from his day. but to not hold or hear that final piece feels like intentionally forgetting her. so instead, he slides the book into your lap.
“can you read?” he’ll ask as he slips under the covers, his back facing you so you can’t see the slightly grim expression on his face. “please.”
you nod and pick up the book. you know even if he’s not looking directly at you that he knows you can’t deny him when he asks so politely.
jason lays there, tucked in like a little kid all over again, as your soft voice reads statistics like words of the angels.
other nights, when the two of you are fighting, or when an argument is too fresh, he’ll sit on the edge of the bed next to you. you don’t turn to face him, still upset or busy wiping tears from your eyes, but you feel him shifting next to you. it always takes a moment of hesitance, but he opens up a book–usually one of yours, but sometimes his, and starts to read to you.
he doesn’t know if you actually care about the recovery tips he’s already deemed useless, or the percentages about addiction, but he does know you listen to every word. because you care for what he has to say, even if his words come from a page.
note: for a man raised in a world of cruelty, and revived into one of anger, mundane things will always be more intimate than sex when it comes to jason todd
something something og Leon S Kennedy
♯ riding jason todd's abs
content.ᐟ 18+, ab-riding, praise, aftercare, pet names (baby/babygirl, sweet girl)
YOU'RE DRAGGING your leaking, aching cunt across the hard lines of his torso until a squelching sound emits with every movement of your hips. he's simply laying there, an amused smirk playing at his lips as a result of your desperate whimpers. this usually happens when he's too tired or injured after patrol to fuck you in the way you crave.
"such a needy girl, huh?" he teases, resting two heavy, calloused hands on the fat of your hips. "jesus-" he huffs a low, gravely chuckle, entertained by just how much you're leaking. "makin' a goddamn mess, baby" he tuts, admiring the glistening slick smeared across his front.
you're so close, the friction of his firm, warm skin against your sensitive clit is making your nails dig in to his pecs. he knows when you're close before you do, always kept track of the way your body nearly loses control.
"you gonna cum like this?" he asks, "don't even need my help, huh?" he cups your cheek, making you lock eyes with him as your grinding grows sloppier. you couldn't care less about the embarrassment anymore, it's so intoxicating getting off on him like this, all while he sits back and watches.
your pathetic noises only grow louder with each grind, with each swipe of your pussy across his abs. "j-jay– m'gonna cum" you breathe out, clenching your eyes shut. you can feel his clothed, throbbing cock, probably making a sticky mess in his pants with pre-cum, pressing against your ass every time you move, a sign that he's getting off on this just as much as you are.
"i know, babygirl" he coos, leaning up slightly to press soft, fluttering kisses to your neck. "you can let go f'me, sweet girl" he purrs, brushing the hair from your flushed face and simply admiring the way your expression is twisted in pleasure. his precious girl, using him to get off.
your breath hitches when your orgasm finally comes crashing over you, leaving you twitching against him. he holds you through your high as you cry out, his name heavy on your tongue. he's bucking his hips up, trying to get in any last stimulation before you collapse against him, exhausted. "there we go" he speaks softly, gently, as if he's coddling you.
"you feel better? hm?" he asks, "not so needy now, i bet." he chuckles lowly, and you're too fucked out to retort back. a calm settles in your bones as he holds you, rubbing soothing circles into your back and kissing the crown of your head. he'll make sure to take care of you properly once you've both rested.
© mayhemi | all rights reserved
cheese grater style
⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀everything i need between those thighs
⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ jason has a thing for thighs
⠀⠀⠀— 0.8k ៸៸ fem! reader , suggestive content , established relationship , jay is a flushed sweetheart
jason is a thigh man. not boobs nor ass, he loves how soft the skin is in that area and how good it is to lay on them. but nonetheless he loves your thighs. obsessed with them actually.
when you started dating jason you didnt take him as a touchy guy. he was more reserved at first and mostly you had initiated physical contact. but the truth was that he was shy —scared even to touch you. it was that you were just so pretty that be physically shook while looking at you!
and something you never noticed early on about him is that his sight lingered on your thighs. he couldnt help himself! he was just a man after all but he would do nothing you werent comfortable with, he was serious about you and wanted to do the best he could be for you.
as the relationship goes on tho you started to notice and one day it was very clear about his… ordeals.
jason had asked you to come to a gala with him. he normally dips these things one hour in but with you? he wanted to stay until the planners kicked him out just to see you in your pretty dresses he liked to buy you.
but tonights dress? pheww he had his work cut out for him. the way the dress clung to your curves and the slit showed off your legs — he was a lost man.
you had seen his eyes, the way he bluntly looked at your figure and stopped on your thighs and just… stayed there. he was being obvious about it too, so obvious that bruce was shaking his head in embarrassment and slight disappointment at his son. but — jason could care less, his girlfriend was hot, why gotta hide it?
on the way back from the event, the car ride was quiet. the grip he held on the steering wheel was tight. he knew you caught him staring and he was scared he fucked it up — like he always did in past relationships.
“you can touch them yknow?” you say, cutting the silence. your legs sat crossed in the passenger seat while you looked at his side profile. his jaw was tight and he looked like he was holding back of god knows what.
jasons eyes widen, he flicked at you before looking back at the road and you swear you can see his cheeks flushing.
“touch what?” he mumbles, coughing slightly as he adjusts his position in the drivers seat.
you scoff with a smile on your face. you grab his free hand and pull it to rest on top of your thigh. he lets out what seems to be a small whimper as his hand is barely touching you thigh out of embarrassment.
“jay weve been dating for a while now and i saw you looking at them tonight, its fine to touch them you know?”
saying that in your warm voice of yours made him melt. he awkwardly nodded. the fact that you noticed made him feel embarrassed but he had to remember that you loved him very much and this reassurance coming from you made him feel safe — wanted even, and he couldnt want it from anyone else.
so with a squeeze on the plush skin and his grounding hand on there the whole ride back to his apartment, you knew it wouldnt be the end of it.
and oh boy it wasnt.
⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁
at anytime he got he would have his big hands on your thighs. it was his anchor, he couldnt not touch them for less than three times a day.
he had a habit of grabbing you by them instead of your waist. if you passed by while he was on the couch, he would grab your thighs and pull you to his lap or give them a squeeze. and for moving past by you, he would put his hands on the back of your thighs, right under your ass cheeks, and scoot with a big grin on his face.
every night when he was with you, he made it a routine of massaging them with lotion, making circular motions. and — of course — always with sweet words, telling about his day and how much he missed you, or the little things he noticed about you that week. its secretly your favorite part of the day.
buying you clothes that flattered them was something he loved. jason adored spoiling his lover but might as well get something in the process, am i right? dresses, shorts, skirts, tights, garments, everything that accentuated those pretty thighs of yours, he was all in for. and the cute smile on your face when he does so makes it impossible to resist.
and nights where he had it rough at patrol or just life in general, he would barge into your place, nuzzling his face in your thighs and laying there as long as he wanted to. how could he not? you ran your fingers through his black hair and the touch of your thighs on his cheek was so soft, it was heaven to him.
his death wish would be to lay on them, just one last time. he loves the softness but he might love whats between them more.
⟢ 𝗆𝗒 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗌: i yearn for a man who yearns for thighs
you're out with jason todd, either decided to go to the mall or out for a walk together, and the moment you walk past a bookstore you notice his gaze automatically locking on the books on display and his steps slowing down to better inspect them, trying to be subtle about it but accidentally tugging on your hand that he was holding in his by doing so. noticing his obvious interest, you suggest going in.
you stand next to him while he browses the books once inside the store, attentively staring at them and walking very slowly—if anything at all. you also pick up certain books that catch your attention or focus on specific sections that you like, but he seems to intend to check every aisle on the store.
you see his eyes widening as he goes "oh, look what they have" and picks up a book, with a smile showing on his face. he inspects the cover and the back of the book and goes through the pages a few times before turning to you. he tells you about how he's been meaning to read it, what he knows about the book and why he thinks it's interesting, that he's familiar with the author and loves their work and also explains why it is that he likes it so much. he looks adorable rambling to you, his face lighting up as he remembers the details and gesturing with his hands while he explains them to you, it's like all he cares about is talking to you about it rather than the book itself.
it's the same as he keeps going through the rest of the books. he tells you about the books he's read and liked the most and what makes them so good, facts about the making of certain book that he finds interesting, why he hates a specific book or how certain saga fell off after certain book. he makes two steps, stops, picks up a book, remembers all the things he has to tell you about it, keeps walking and then does it again. he gets excited when he sees a new edition of a book he's never seen before or one that he's been looking for, and tells you about the one he owns or which other one he'd like to buy. he picks up a book with a silly drawing on the cover, laughs at it and then he's immediately turning it to you so you can see it and laugh too before putting it back where he found it.
everything that catches his attention at the store, he just has to let you know about. he doesn't need to do it, he could be silent while going through the books, he doesn't have to tell you about his decision to buy certain book or not to, or to tell you anecdotes that seeing a specific book reminded him of, but he'd been meaning to talk about these things with someone, he'd been waiting for the opportunity to show up and it finally has now that he's found someone he trusts enough to tell all these silly things to.
at certain point you stopped paying too much attention to the books for yourself, conforming with walking behind jason and listening to what he has to say instead, but then you hear him saying "look, they have the book you wanted to get", holding it up for you with a soft smile on his face. it seems like the whole time you spent at the bookstore was just a constant reminder of what makes you love jason so much.
you end up walking out of the store with a new book for you, two more for jason and too many feelings for the man who randomly decided to open up to you on a bookstore.
𝜗ৎ this was one of those works that reminds me i don’t actually know english omg i’m sorry if there’s any mistakes,, also i know this probably sucks bc it’s pretty vague so sorry about that too lol
bruce wayne x pregnant!reader
"sweetheart, are you sure you don't want to wear a different coat?" bruce asked. he had been trailing behind you as you tore both closets apart in pursuit of warmth.
you had decided on his navy coat. the one with italian-imported cashmere, hand stitched hemming, and too many visits to the tailor for alterations. you'd sworn up and down it was "so extra" when he first commissioned it.
"no, i do not, honey." you replied, a tad bitterly.
stubbornness. that was great.
bruce tried to keep the edge out of his voice, "what about that jacket you bought in–"
"none of mine fit me." you snapped, slipping the coat on. "maybe you should have put more thought into that before getting me pregnant, bruce."
"that's..." bruce let out a long sigh as he rubbed his temple. he gave a moment's consideration to his words before he spoke again, "y/n. i love when you wear my clothes, you know this. it's just..maybe we should look for a different coat? that color doesn't really go with your outfit anyways. fault of the coat of course."
"i don't care if the coat matches my outfit or not! i'm about to have a baby in like three weeks. so long as something fits and is warm, fashion is the least of my worries."
bruce's jaw worked for a moment before he let out a small disbelieving laugh, "baby, you cared yesterday.."
"yes, well, that was yesterday." you muttered as you shoved your hands into each respective pocket of the coat.
bruce visibly winced, which you raised your eyebrows at.
"if you're hiding your burner phone in here, you should have found a better–" the words died on your tongue as your fingers closed around something small in one of the pockets. you glanced at bruce.
he stared back with a small grimace on his face, his lips pursed into a thin line.
you pulled the little object out before staring at it.
a square...box.
oh.
oh.
a ring box. in your favorite color.
you let out a gasp as you hurriedly looked back at bruce. he stared at the box for a moment more, an "oh well" expression blossoming across his features.
bruce met your eyes finally. "i was going to get a different box–"
you made haste shoving the box back into the jacket pocket before he could completely begin his tangent. "maybe we should look for another coat," you said, slipping it off and handing it off to him.
bruce smiled as he took the coat back from you, holding back a laugh, "you think?"
"yeah. this one doesn't go with my outfit."
note: bruce wayne who can't keep his soon-to-be-wife out of the loop for long, so he immediately starts spilling every thought he's had and every step he's taken during the proposing process to her the moment she finds out 🥹