Jason Todd Has A Big Nose; Pass It On.

“It’s currently—” Jason leans back on the counter’s edge to glance at the clock, “—five in the morning.”

“We talked all night?”

The refrigerator’s light glows in the kitchen, casting its hue on you and Jason. You stay seated stubbornly on the counter. The cool surface biting into the bare skin of your thighs.

“I’m freezing.” You groan.

Jason coos. He moves to stand between your legs. Your head instinctively falls to his shoulders.

“Poor baby.” You can imagine the smug grin on his face. “Weren't you the one who decided not to sleep tonight–”

“But–”

“–to eat, what is this again?” He picks up the Ice-cream carton placed next to you.

“Ice-cream. I was craving something sweet.”

“No wonder you're freezing. Plus, we need to address your sweet tooth.” He laughs.

“I have a weakness for sweet things.” You place a chaste kiss on his cheek. Jason snorts. The corners of his lips curled.

You snatch the carton from his hands. Grabbing the spoon you take another bite. You can feel your mouth freeze as the cold spreads in your mouth.

“Oh no, poor baby–”

“Shut up, Jay.”

“Want me to warm you up?”

You give him a faux glare.

“How do you stay warm, anyway? You hog all the blankets, maybe that's why.”

He gasps. “No, I do not.”

“Take responsibility, Jason Todd. Warm my hands for me.” You reach out your hands in front him, fingers wiggling. The smile on your face reaches your eyes.

With a tender grip, he wraps your hands in his, the warmth of his palms spreading slowly into your cold fingers.

“I spoil you too much.”

“Kiss me,” you whispered.

He smiled, a pearl-iridescent grin that lures you in. “You always order me about.”

“Kiss me.”

“Now you want a kiss? Are you sure?” The corners of his smile curled, turning into a teasing smirk. “Because once I do, I might not be able—”

Your hands grasped the fabric of his collar and yanked him down.

His lips danced around yours. The taste of him seeped into you akin to honeyed nectar. His hands encircled your waist. Calloused hands fleetingly ghosted over your skin.

“I love kissing you.” You murmured.

“Spoiled.”

“Shut up. You love me.”

© ROBINSFILM ﹕ I do not give consent for my writing to be posted or used on any other platforms without my permission and proper credit.

Do you think you could a reverse of you "attractive things they do without realizing" with the bat boys?

♯ ATTRACTIVE THINGS YOU DO . . . that make them go crazy ! — part 1

— fem!reader, suggestive thoughts, mention of reader’s hair

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

BRUCE WAYNE

simply attending gala with him

the gala was in full swing, the soft hum of conversation and the tinkling of crystal glasses weaving through the grand hall. bruce wayne stood at the center of it all, the undisputed star of the evening, yet his focus wasn’t on the crowd. it was on you.

you stood beside him, your hand lightly wrapped around his forearm, a subtle yet intimate gesture that spoke things without saying a word. the way your fingers rested there, so effortlessly claiming him as yours, sent a warmth spreading through his chest—a feeling that, for once, wasn’t from the weight of responsibility or the burden of his double life. it was softer, lighter. it was you.

bruce’s sharp eyes, trained to assess every detail in a room, couldn’t help but linger on you. the dress you wore was nothing short of perfection—not that it could have been anything else. he had ensured it. every stitch, every line, every fold of fabric had been crafted with you in mind. he had selected the finest material, rich and smooth beneath the touch, ensuring it draped over your figure with the kind of elegance that turned heads the moment you stepped into a room.

the deep hue of the gown complemented his suit nicely, catching the light in subtle ways, as though it, too, was vying for his attention. the neckline framed your collarbones delicately, and the way the fabric hugged your form made it impossible for his mind not to wander to how well he knew every curve beneath. the gentle train swirled around your heels like liquid, moving with you in an almost hypnotic rhythm, every step making his heart beat just a little faster.

bruce had commissioned it specifically for you, worked with the designer himself to ensure it would fit you like a second skin—tailored to highlight everything he found most captivating about you. it wasn’t just vanity, though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t relish the way every person in the room couldn’t help but notice you. no, it was deeper than that. dressing you in the finest fabrics, wrapping you in elegance, was his way of saying what words often couldn’t: you’re extraordinary, and the world should know it.

to you, he wasn’t just bruce wayne, gotham’s elusive billionaire. he wasn’t the brooding vigilante who prowled the night. he was just . . . bruce. and in that moment, he felt more real, more whole, than he had in years.

he tilted his head slightly, glancing down at you, and his lips tugged into the faintest of smiles—a rare expression, softer than most would ever see. the subtle scent of your perfume reached him as you leaned closer to whisper something, your voice a low melody against the backdrop of the room. he didn’t even catch the words; he was too lost in the curve of your smile, the way your lashes brushed your cheeks when you blinked, the warmth of your touch radiating through the fabric of his suit.

his thoughts betrayed him, wandering ahead to a quieter moment later, when the gala was over, and it was just the two of you again. but for now, he stood tall, the perfect host, his hand moving to cover yours on his arm. his thumb brushed against your knuckles, a silent gesture of affection and gratitude. he didn’t say it aloud—he didn’t need to—but he was thinking it with every fiber of his being: you’re the most beautiful thing in this room, and you don’t even know it.

seeing you work at his office

bruce leaned back in his leather chair, the polished desk between you serving as the only barrier to his unraveling thoughts. you stood on the other side, flipping through a file with the kind of focus that made his chest tighten, utterly oblivious to the effect you were having on him. the pencil skirt you wore hugged your hips in a way that felt almost sinful, every line and contour designed to torment him. the fabric clung just right, emphasizing the curve of your waist and the sway of your body each time you shifted. and then there was the blouse—white, crisp, and perfectly fitted, the faintest hint of skin peeking where the buttons strained against your figure. it was driving him to the edge.

the sharp click of your heels echoed softly as you moved around the room, your voice calm and professional as you recounted details of a recent meeting, flipping a page in the file without missing a beat. but bruce wasn’t listening. not really. his gaze followed the way your fingers smoothed the papers, delicate but deliberate, and his mind betrayed him. those same hands . . . what would they feel like tangled in his hair, tugging him closer? or splayed against his chest, nails dragging lightly as he pressed you against the wall?

he shifted in his seat, jaw tightening as he tried to force himself back to the present. but it was impossible. the way the soft material of your blouse tucked into that pencil skirt left just enough to the imagination while teasing at everything he wanted to do to you. his mind raced ahead, envisioning the fabric bunched around your hips, your voice losing its composed edge as he silenced every word with his lips

you glanced up at him suddenly, your eyes catching his, and for a moment, his composure faltered. his sharp blue gaze was darker now, focused entirely on you with an intensity that made your breath hitch. his tongue darted across his bottom lip, slow and deliberate, as he leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk, his fingers steepled beneath his chin.

“are you almost finished?”

“just a few more minutes.”

his thoughts raced ahead, imagining the way your name would sound falling from his lips, low and rough, as he pulled you into his lap. how your soft gasps would fill the room, mingling with the shuffle of papers and the creak of leather as his control finally slipped. bruce’s mind was already plotting, already deciding just how many minutes he’d let you finish your work before he gave in.

DICK GRAYSON

the quiet hum of the city filtered through the slightly cracked window, the distant sounds of gotham settling into the night. dick sat cross-legged on the couch, his hair still damp from a quick shower after patrol, wearing a loose gray shirt and sweatpants. you were tucked into the corner of the couch, legs pulled up to your chest with your arms wrapped around them, your chin resting on your knees. there was something so effortlessly comfortable about the way you curled into yourself, the soft glow of the lamp painting your features in warm hues.

he couldn’t help but let his eyes linger, caught by the way the corners of your lips curved into a gentle smile as you listened to him recount something ridiculous wally had said earlier. it wasn’t just your smile, though it always had a way of knocking the air out of his lungs—it was the way your gaze stayed fixed on him, warm and attentive, like he was the only thing that mattered in the world right now.

“are you even listening?” he teased, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees as he tilted his head to catch your gaze more fully.

you laughed softly, a sound that melted into the quiet of the room like it belonged there. “i am,” you insisted, shifting slightly to prop your chin higher on your knees, the movement drawing his attention to the curve of your bare shoulders beneath the oversized sweatshirt you were wearing—his sweatshirt, he realized with a pang of fondness.

“good,” he said, his voice softer now, his lips curving into an easy smile. but he didn’t pick up where he left off. instead, he found himself studying the little things: the way your hair framed your face, the way your eyes glimmered with quiet amusement, the small, almost unconscious sway of your head as you rested against your knees.

“don’t stop,” you murmured, your smile widening.

dick chuckled, shaking his head. “i wasn’t sure if my story could compete with . . . well, you,” he said, his tone light but tinged with the kind of sincerity that always made your chest tighten.

“flatterer,” you teased, but the way your cheeks warmed didn’t escape him.

when you arch your back in a chair

he had only meant to grab a drink and check in with you, but the second he entered the room and saw you sitting at the table, all coherent thought vanished. he froze in place, his gaze drawn to you like a moth to a flame. you were leaning forward in your chair, your elbows braced on the table and your back arched just slightly as you studied whatever had your focus. it was innocent—completely unintentional—but to him, it was anything but.

the way your shirt clung to your frame as you bent forward made his mouth go dry, the curve of your back teasing him in ways that had his imagination running wild. his eyes lingered on the dip of your waist, the way the soft fabric stretched just enough over your hips, and he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering further—thinking about how easy it would be to step behind you, trail his hands down that arch, and pull you closer.

dick swallowed hard, forcing himself to look away, but it was hopeless. his gaze snapped back to you as if on instinct, and this time, it wasn’t just the curve of your back that had his attention. it was the way your body moved, every subtle shift of your weight making his thoughts spiral deeper. he could almost feel the press of your skin against his palms, the heat of you beneath his hands as he tipped you just slightly further forward . . .

jesus, get it together, grayson, he thought, dragging a hand through his hair and trying to clear his head. but the damage was done, and now every inch of him was on edge, his pulse thrumming in his ears. it wasn’t fair how effortlessly you drove him crazy—how just existing could send his thoughts careening into territory that made him shift uncomfortably in place.

you glanced up suddenly, breaking him out of his haze. “hey, you good?” you asked, your brows furrowing slightly in concern.

the sound of your voice jolted him back to reality, though his heart was still racing. “fine,” he managed, his voice just a little rougher than usual. he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to play it cool despite the heat simmering beneath his skin.

but you weren’t convinced. there was a hint of amusement in your eyes as you leaned back slightly in your chair, giving him that knowing smile that always made his knees weak. “you sure?”

dick’s jaw clenched as you shifted again, his gaze flickering down to the curve of your waist before he caught himself. stop it. stop it right now. but then you tilted your head, and that damn teasing glint in your eyes told him you knew exactly what you were doing.

he took a step forward, bracing a hand on the table as he leaned down, his face suddenly inches from yours. his voice was low, rough, almost a growl. “you’re making it really hard to concentrate, you know that?”

JASON TODD

adjusting your skirt

jason had been leaning against the doorway, half distracted by his own thoughts, when the sight of you adjusting your skirt snapped his attention to full focus. you were standing in front of the mirror, tugging at the waistband and wiggling it higher on your hips, a casual, innocent motion meant to get the fit just right. but to him, it was anything but casual. his eyes locked on you, darkening as he watched the way the fabric shifted, sliding up the curve of your thighs with each subtle movement.

jesus christ, he thought, jaw tightening as he tried to tear his gaze away. he failed. the small adjustment—the roll of your hips, the way your hands smoothed the material over your figure—felt like it was designed to torment him. he muttered a quiet curse under his breath, barely audible but enough to let his frustration escape.

that little motion shouldn’t have had this kind of hold over him, but it did. the way you moved, so natural and effortless, made his mind wander to places it shouldn’t. his fingers twitched at his sides as he imagined stepping behind you, sliding his hands over yours to help—not that you needed it, but damn if he wouldn’t enjoy it anyway.

you turned slightly and caught his reflection in the mirror, green eyes shooting up to meet yours as if he hadn’t been blatantly staring. “everything okay, jay?”

jason cleared his throat. “yeah,” he said, though his voice was rougher than usual, betraying him. he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning heavier into the doorway, his tongue darting across his bottom lip as his gaze flicked down again. “just . . . keep doing what you’re doing.”

you have him a look—equal parts amused and curious—but went back to adjusting the skirt, smoothing it out once more. jason bit the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to stay put instead of crossing the room, grabbing your hips, and showing you exactly what that little movement of yours did to him.

this woman’s gonna be the death of me, he thought, his pulse hammering as he pushed off the doorway, muttering another curse under his breath. he needed to walk away before he did something reckless—something that would guarantee you wouldn’t be leaving that room anytime soon.

when you rant to him

jason leaned back on the couch, arms draped lazily over the backrest, but his focus was anything but casual. his eyes were locked on you as you paced the room, hands gesturing wildly while you went off on a rant about something that had you fired up. he couldn’t even remember how the conversation started—it didn’t matter. what mattered was the light in your eyes, the way your whole face animated with every word, and the fire in your voice as you got lost in your thoughts.

there was something magnetic about the way you threw yourself into it, like the world disappeared except for the thing you were so passionate about. it didn’t even matter if he understood half of what you were saying—though he was trying, really, he was—but he couldn’t look away from you long enough to focus on the details. he was too caught up in the way your brows furrowed slightly when you were deep in thought, or the way your lips curved when you hit on a point you knew was good.

and that voice. it was captivating, filled with conviction and energy, a side of you that came alive when you cared about something. jason’s heart thudded in his chest as he watched you, a small, crooked smile tugging at his lips.

every now and then, you’d glance at him to make sure he was keeping up, and he’d give a small nod, biting back the urge to say something dumb like, i’m not paying attention to your words, but i’m hanging on every second of you. instead, he’d murmur a quiet “yeah,” or “makes sense,” just to keep you talking.

but, damn, the way your whole body moved when you were this invested—it sent his mind places. there was a certain confidence in it, an unintentional sway in your steps as you walked back and forth, your gestures strong but graceful. it drove him crazy in the best way, made him want to grab you mid-rant, pull you onto his lap, and kiss you senseless just to see if that fire would transfer to him.

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↳ ageless/blank blogs dni

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you were staring. very unabashedly so, too. just… oogling your boyfriend, watching as he lounged on your couch, his black shirt fitted around bulging arms, the hem riding up around his tummy to reveal that line of thick black hair that dipped below his plaid pants.

oh my god, those stupid plaid pants. they made you wonder what the hell the hype was about grey sweats, when those existed.

and it’s not like you had anything to be ashamed about, either. he was your boyfriend, all six foot something of him, for fucks sake. all the thick muscles, and short cropped hair, and scars, and fuck, those eyes. you could look if you damn well wanted to.

you’d tried very hard to convince yourself all morning that you were fine, and definitely not ovulating, and fine.

but in that moment, watching your boyfriend literally just sit there, eyes shut and head tipped back, this was not you. it was some evil entity, possessing you and in full swing. you were ready to jump him, and it wasn’t even ten in the morning yet.

your gaze kept dropping lower, toward those pecs, all soft and plush beneath the fabric of his tee, and you could feel yourself start to salivate.

it wasn’t even anything provocative either, but the sight of his tits in a black shirt, tight over the unflexed muscle, was driving you up a god damned wall.

you curled your legs up beneath you, arm perching you against the back of the couch, the other pressed between the low of your thighs to physically retrain yourself from grabbing him like a deranged person.

because, no matter what you did, it was almost impossible to stop imagining just throwing yourself at him, and doing some entirely unspeakable things. things you know you’d never do unless it was this god forsaken time of month.

“you good, ma?” Jason asked, finally breaking the tense silence, and drawing your attention away from his torso. he was staring back now, one brow raised quizzically, and his scared lip curled up in questioning.

“your eyes are dilatin’ and shit.”

yeah. you got up, wordlessly, and walked toward the kitchen.

18+ minors dni

the parasites in my brain…they wanted this. enjoy.

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

hockey player!jason todd who has so much energy on and off the ice, and nowhere to put it. you’d think body-slamming grown men into the boards with all his weight would wear him out, but it’s not enough; you can almost feel the electricity radiating off him hours later, and it hardly matters if his team wins or loses. lucky for him, you’ve found an…arrangement that suits you both—and tonight, he’s coming off his best game of the season so far.

“jay,” you whine, your voice muffled by the pillow against your cheek. your body is still twitching from your first orgasm, but his fingers sink into your hips as he rocks against your ass rhythmically, filling you inch by inch while you moan. his green eyes are glued to the numbered jersey you’re wearing while he fucks you—his number—and he can’t help the cocky grin that settles on his face at the sight. he brings one of his hands underneath you to rub small circles on your clit, chuckling as you gasp his name again.

“y’know,” he says through laboured breaths, “this was the first game you’ve worn this to.” he tugs at the jersey harshly with his free hand, while his other teases your clit faster, eliciting a desperate moan from you that makes him shudder. “gonna—fuck—have to wear it to every match now.” you want to laugh—after all, you know how superstitious hockey players are—but jason leans down to trail hot kisses along the side of your neck, and suddenly your mind is cloudy again as heat rushes through your abdomen.

“you gonna cum for me? hm?” he breathes against your ear, smiling when you merely whimper. “yeah, you are. I can feel you shakin’, ma.” he fucks into you deeper, his deft fingers keeping their pace against your sensitive clit. you clutch at the sheets as your belly tightens and your eyes screw shut; you want to regret the promise you made him—an orgasm for each goal he scored—but your second climax cuts you short.

you cry out as your release tears through you, arching your belly into the bed before letting your body go slack against the mattress with a shaky breath. you feel jason’s huge frame against you as he shifts closer to your ear, his tone teasing as he speaks. “don’t give up on me now, princess,” he coos, grinning as your dripping cunt clenches helplessly around his cock. “y’still owe me one more.”

i just know satoru’s the type to lean down when you two are making out while standing up, and he literally pushes himself into your personal space because he cannot physically get enough of you. like his hands are gripping your flesh, your thighs, your ass, and then his hand wraps around your neck and when you try to pull away to breathe, he chases after your lips and pecks them repeatedly.

“no no no—come back here, please,”

jason todd loves to sit on the bathroom counter and watch you get ready. he loves seeing you pink and fresh-faced after scrubbing off your cleanser. he loves how shiny and glowy you look after applying moisturizer, and how good you smell after rubbing cocoa butter over your bare shoulders and chest, on your soft arms and stomach. he loves how you stand on your toes and lean closer to the mirror and how your mouth opens slightly when you're applying mascara. he loves how concentrated you are when doing eyeliner, the way the tip of your tongue pokes out from between your lips. he loves the big smile you make to put blush on the apples of your cheeks, the one that makes your nose scrunch. and he loves the little pout you make when you apply your lipstick. and he especially loves how you wordlessly gesture for him to come closer so you can blot your lipstick by planting a fat kiss on his cheek. jason todd loves watching you get ready.

“fuck you,” you spit, “seriously, fuck you, fuck all of this shit, to be honest.”

in all honesty, your can’t even remember what this argument was about, but in the moment, you cant seem to care all that much; you’re too wrapped up in the heat of it all.

the vitriol in your voice has him spinning back around to stalk towards him, a nasty scowl on his face as he all but herds you towards the wall, seething, “fuck me, huh? it’s fuck me now, ain’t it?”

you nod vigorously, refusing to back down, even if his much larger body had your cornered. he’s looking down at you, eyes searching your face as his jaw sets. he opens his mouth, snapping it shut before he says something he regrets. his eyes flit to your lips, then back up to your eyes.

a rough hand comes up to cup your jaw, testing the waters. your narrow your eyes, but don’t push him away. that’s all it takes for a thread to snap inside him. suddenly he’s all over you, pulling you into his arms and pressing hot kisses to your lips and neck.

“fuck me, yeah?” he sneers softly, tugging at your clothing, “hm baby? it’s fuck me, right?” his tongue dances on your throat, leaving unforgiving hickies for all the world to see.

“yes,” your sigh breathlessly, letting him turn you this way and that, “fuck you.”

————————————————————————

dick grayson, jason todd, roy harper, hal jordan, terry mcginnis, bruce wayne at some point, probably.

. ♱ ݁ ──── 𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆. 𝐍𝐎𝐖, 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 ❛❛ 𝐖𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 ❜❜

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄 .𖥔 ݁ 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍

→ prince¡touya of the todoroki royal family not only has his crown stolen by a notorious thief, but also his heart! will he find the beautiful thief and get back his crown and heart?

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄 .𖥔 ݁ 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐘 𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃

→ knight¡keigo takami stumbled into the magical forest that belonged to the witches and wizards. could he charm his way out of the forest and venture back to his kingdom?

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄 .𖥔 ݁ 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

→ jester¡tenko shimura found his job to be rather fascinating now that he knew of the royal princess' new addiction. will whispers and gossips spread throughout the council?

★ 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐖 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 . . .

dearest senation, i would like to present thee this short collection of tales written centuries ago by the legendary writers of that era. in which their names are sen, sen, and sen. tonight, i read to thee, so sit back and enjoy! this is also heavily inspired by billie eilish's album: wwafawdwg

TAGS ♱ @killyzury @rvoulte @hecate-frenchfries @onlyyemanii @1ns3n1ty3x1sts @sunolls @standcom

( opened, send an ask or reblog to be tagged ! )

©SENEON EST. 2025 .♱ ݁ WE ALL FALL ASLEEP

You didn't really the check time, but it must've been past midnight when you entered Jason's place for the first time this week, quietly closing the door behind you and tossing your keys back into your bag, which you placed on the hanger by the entrance.

Your steps were lazy and spaced out as you walked around the apartment, looking for him in the dark ─ turning the lights on would be too much of a splurge, so you simply settled for an almost blind search.

Approaching the bathroom, you heard the faint sound of water splashing, the noise recognizable as you'd heard that a thousand times, almost in the same situation.

"You always choose such ungodly hours for bathing." You said, walking into the small room in silent steps.

Jason was laying peacefully in the bathtub, his head resting against the wall beside him as he had his eyes closed, probably enjoying the comfort of the scented candles lit around the tub. You could smell the vanilla from the wax mixed with the scent of the peach bathbomb you gave him some time ago.

"I think this is the best hour for it." He murmured, not bothering to raise his voice. You liked seeing him relaxed like that.

You sat down at the edge of the tub, taking in his soft appearance. He looked very peaceful, his eyes shut and face relaxed. It was one of the few times you'd seen him with his jaw unclenched.

As you sat, his head immediately leaned closer to your thigh, resting against it like a pillow. Your heart warmed at the sight and at the feeling.

You two had just started dating. Things were still so new to both of you, but they were going well. You liked each other, more than either of you cared to admit, still too scared to pour your hearts out. But moments like these proved that the feeling was deeper than you thought.

Running a gentle hand through his damp hair, you let out a short sigh. "You look so peaceful." you murmured quietly, your voice caressing his ears.

"I am." he replied, leaning into your touch. "Even more now."

You smiled at that. He liked to say sweet things when you least expected him to. Jason wasn't one for sweet talk, but he made an effort for you. To see that pretty smile on your lips, to make you feel loved, to make you feel his love.

"How did tonight go?" You murmured quietly, your fingers still caressing his scalp, almost making him purr like a cat. He loved head scratches.

"Mhm..." he hummed, deciding if he should sugarcoat it or tell you the truth. He chose the truth. "It was... awkward. Like, very, but it wasn't the worst night ever. I'm still getting used to these things."

"You're still getting used to galas?" You smiled, your tone incredulous. "I thought you went to these things all the time."

"I did a few times when I was younger." He said. "But it's harder to adapt now. I mean, inside. Outside, I think I look... not that out of place, but inside, it's messy." He explained to you, his fingers coming up to gently caress your side, making your shirt wet. But neither of you cared.

"I get it." You nodded, offering him a more understanding smile now. "I'm sure you did well, though. You always do."

"Maybe... maybe go with me next time." He murmured almost sheepishly, his eyes opening for the first time. They drank you, your appearance, your messy hair, your sparkly eyes, your pretty, pretty nose. Every part of your face, your clothes, your arms, everything. "I think you'd fit in."

"Me?" you mumbled, your voice cracking a bit, making you wince. Suddenly, you felt a little shy from his gaze and from his proposal. The thought of him wanting you of all people to be his plus one at those fancy events made you feel some kind of warm anxiety, close to a good, excited feeling. "I don't think I would, honestly."

"I can already see it... a beautiful outfit on you, your hair pretty and styled, silver jewelry, the most glorious shoes..." he mumbled. He sounded almost like he was daydreaming. "And, of course, your stunning self to go with all of it."

You laughed at that, a genuine laugh, one of those he seemed to pull out of you anytime he did or said something remotely funny. You were down bad for that man. Shaking your head, you gave his shoulder a gentle pat.

"That sounds like an alternative reality." You said.

"I disagree." he said, looking over at you again. "In fact... wait a minute, I'll get all of that arranged right now for next month."

You stared at him in confusion, your eyebrows knitting together as he started getting up from the tube, and then your eyes widened.

"Jason-"

He got out of the bathtub, water splashing all over the edges and dripping down to the floor, as well as on you, your shirt and pants getting even damper.

You laughed again at his desperation, and at the fact that he didn't even bother to cover himself with a towel. He walked out of the bathroom in his full naked glory, droplets of water sliding down his chest as he padded over to the room, mumbling something about having to get on the phone right now.

You couldn't have chosen better.

✦

a.n: i feel like this is so stupid... also, i didn't proof read, I'm sorry!