he isn't in love, so don't get mixed up in the rumors. unless you're roy harper, in which you may observe the red hood get a little dazed by the sight of his not-girlfriend. you are beauty, you are grace, and jason todd is pink in the face.
âą jason todd x fem nurse reader, roy being nosy, clubbing at the iceberg lounge, hopeless silly crushing from jay, 3k wc
IT STARTS WITH A FULL CABINET. And not just any cabinetâa medicine cabinet, stocked to the brim with unused gauze, rolls of loose weave neatly packed into a shelf. The chipped interior provides a stark background for a number of other suspicious things, too.Â
Still-sealed suture packets. Two bottles of ibuprofen, both full. And get this: a long accordion-string of antibiotic ointment that hits the floor when Roy unfurls it. None of the serrated edges are ripped.Â
Hell, it looks brand new.Â
Call him paranoid for assuming, but a full medicine cabinet in Jason Todd's apartment is infinitely suspicious. It might be arguable that he's just recently stocked up...if it weren't for the thin layer of dust that's settled over everything.Â
It also could mean that the rumors are true.
Of course, when Roy brings it up, rolls of gauze clutched into the crook of his elbow, Jason just works his jaw with one hand in his hair, the other scribbling in red Sharpie.Â
âI have no idea what youâre talking about,â Jason drawls, face steeled to perfection. He doesn't even look up, too busy brooding down at the spread of documents and maps pinned down by several empty cans of Coke; a few drops of sweet, dark soda stain the papers.Â
âYou know, I heard from a little Robin,â Roy sings, sauntering over and dumping the gauze onto the small tableâone roll bounces onto the floor and off Jasonâs slippers, âthat you have a girl.âÂ
Gotcha. Wind had reached Roy from Donna, who had heard from Wally, who had heard from Dick, who had so on and so forthed until the rumor could be traced back to a certain grumpy, spiky-haired sidekick who claims to have seen the second Robin dreamily admiring a nurse as she patched him up on the floor of her apartment.
That makes Jason look up. A shadow crosses his face, one that makes an odd kind of shiver tickle at Royâs nape. Itâs the same kind of look that comes when things go sideways or shit blows up when it isnât supposed or when Batman does something that really sets him off.Â
(But like father, like son. The way Jason is practically glaring at that loose-leaf pile of shit looks just like those old photos of B sent to a long-destroyed phone. Courtesy of Dick, who always has a field day spamming the Titansâ defunct, triple-encrypted groupchat when he happens to be back in Gotham.)Â
And then Jason looks to the pile of little, unused rolls spilled across the table. Likeâreally looks at them, as if itâs the first heâs ever heard of gauze. Then he tilts his head and stares at Roy, mouth pressed into a razor-thin line.Â
âReally?â Jason says, brows lifting like heâs totally disinterested. Then he points a finger at himself, really humored. âYou think I have a girlfriend? âCause what, I'm well stocked, or Damian said so?âÂ
Roy narrows his eyes, hands immediately coming up in defense. âI never said it was Damian.âÂ
âJust giving an example.âÂ
Jason shrugsâtoo casual to be innocentâbut Royâs already caught on long before that. The little flicker of âoh, shitâ across his face, the slightest thread of apprehension shooting through his deeply furrowed brow.Â
Perks of being a deadeye: you catch all the shit everyone else misses.Â
So. That little gremlin was telling the truth about seeing his adopted brotherâor however the hell their relationship worksâsneaking into a girlâs apartment and being all lovey-dovey with her even though heâs literally a menace to the city.Â
And a menace to Roy, because Jasonâs ticking jaw is starting to look like heâs on the edge of flipping the damn table.Â
"Alright." Roy concedes despite the nagging itch in his head. Jason Todd is lying. "If you say so."Â
"That's what I thought."Â
âÂ
Contrary to Jason's (likely) belief, things don't end at the medicine cabinet. In fact, that had just been the start.Â
The next revelation comes when theyâre supposed to be infiltrating the Iceberg Lounge for a business exchange between a mysterious broker and the Penguinâback from a brief stint in jail, again, much to Jason and everyone elseâs chagrin.Â
This is a no-mask occasion, just to play the harmless civilian and not get a beatdown from the bouncers.Â
Itâs loud inside the lounge, a heavy bass beat thrumming at such a strength that Roy is wary to even brush up against the walls. The soles of his boots stick to the floor, gummy in the way only nightclubs can be; the air is soaked with the scent of sweat and booze. Heâs already flicked his shades on and pushed them all the way up to his eyelashes, but the strobe lights flashing through the nightclub still need squinting to get through.Â
Thus, he almost misses Jasonâs hand tapping on his shoulder, too busy shrugging off the hot press of clubbers swarming the floor.Â
Roy turns, raising his eyebrows at his partner. He gets the feeling that this is a little strange, being on a mission bare faced with a stupid Gotham U shirt and a half-broken comm chip in the ear. Jesus, he looks and feels like a frat guy despite being a decade too old. Â
Jason doesnât seem to mind though, dressed in a thin, maroon hoodie that does nothing to hide his shoulders, and grey jeans. Casual, in a nonchalant way. The Iâm a frat who just threw on whatever and Iâm ready to get sloshed way.Â
His hand is still incessantly tapping on Royâs shoulder, not really aware that theyâre already facing each other, Roy expectant and ready to listen.Â
âHell-o?âÂ
âOh.â Jason blinks, seemingly snapped out of it. Thereâs a sort of far-off look in his eyes, mouth barely parted, like heâs just seen a ghost and heâs trying to hide it. His gaze darts around, but itâs inevitably drawn to the blue-neon shelves on a back wall.Â
Slow to say, tongue wetting his bottom lip, âIâll take the bar.âÂ
Roy huffs, crossing his arms. âAlright. Iâll take the floor.âÂ
They both nod to themselves, though Jason looks very satisfied that heâs gotten what he wanted. Usually, they flip a coin or play rock-paper-scissors or use whatever is on hand at the time to decide scouting positions.Â
Like that one time, with the water bottle. They had spent so long trying to get it to land upright that they almost missed their cue.Â
But thatâs a story for another night, because Jason is peeling away and making quick strides to the bar. He slides into an empty stool to the left of a woman, leaning his elbow on the counter with a small smile.Â
Roy posts up against a wall on the opposite side of the bar, eyes roving. Thereâs a suspicious-looking guy in the far cornerâa black suit type, slicked back hair and shiny laced loafers swimming with a leather-warped reflection of the strobe lights. The man is nursing a glass of whiskey, dark amber liquid turned to pitch when the music switches up.Â
He scoots closer for a better look at their potential broker, and then he catches a glance of Jason at the bar, still talking to...Â
Oh, shit.Â
The screenshot passed around hero communications like a virus resurfaces in Royâs mind. Sure, sheâs wearing a cute outfit and some makeup instead of soft sleep clothes, but itâs unmistakable.Â
Jason Todd is talking up his not-girlfriend in the Iceberg Lounge during a mission.Â
Peopleâs eyes bugging out of their sockets used to be an impossible concept, and yet. Here he is, helpless on the other side of the club as all the little pieces click together and catch up to him.Â
The hardly used medical supplies. The âoh, shitâ look. The fact that Jason lied to Royâs face. Â
You smile in that teasing, kind of girly way you did in Damianâs leaked screenshot, much to Jasonâs apparent enjoyment. He leans the side of his head on his left fist, that elbow in turn balanced on the bar top.Â
Transfixed, Jason watches your hands move as you explain the mentality behind the designated driver role, how your day went, and say something that sounds like: it was super chaotic, but I canât really say more âcause of HIPPA, soâŠÂ
Wait.Â
Roy can hear you.Â
He has to laugh softly to himself when he realizes. Fuck, Jason is so whipped that he isnât aware of the fact that propping his head up has activated their comm chip.Â
Not so much of a tough guy now, it seems.Â
Keeping an eye on the could-be broker, Roy presses his earpiece in a little deeper and plugs his other ear to block out most of the clubâs thrumming noise.Â
âAnyway,â you say, and even though Roy canât see it, he knows youâre grinning wide. âWhat do you do, stranger?âÂ
Royâs eyes flick to the ceiling, but only for a fractured second âcause the lights are starting to give him a headache. Of course you donât know his civilian identity.Â
âUhââ and thereâs that telltale sound of Jason wetting his lips ââyou could call me Jay. IâmâŠa fixer.âÂ
Funny. Fixer is quite a versatile word, it seems.Â
You laugh in a tone Roy has only heard when a girl looks down and brushes her hair away. âIs it weird that I kind of guessed? I dunno, you just look like a guy whoâs good with his hands.â And then a little faster, earnest, âIâm so sorry, Jay, that came outââÂ
âNo, no,â Jason is quick to interject, âI appreciate it.âÂ
âIs it weird that I think youâre a great guy after talking for five minutes?â you ask after a moment. For the briefest second, Roy manages a peek over to the barâyouâre mirroring Jasonâs pose, except the hand you arenât resting your chin on is tracing the rim of a crystal water glass. You smile, close-mouthed, and he gets it. Gets why Jason is so drawn to you (even if Roy doesnât feel the beckon himself).Â
Itâs a kind look about you. An open flame, ready to warm. You look at people without expectation, and knowing Jason, thatâs big. He doesnât have to be the Big Bad or the sweet, martyred Robin for you.Â
You know the cabinetry of Jasonâs body so well already, and most of all, you know him at his most vulnerable. Blue-green doe eyes, sweat-matted hair, hydrangea-bloom bruisesâthe whole works.Â
You stand for everything Jason protects in the world: the raw, unfiltered good.Â
Roy snaps back to what heâs supposed to be watching right as Jason ekes out a rough chuckle.Â
âSounds like you have some assholes in your life. Need a hand?â Jason says it in the stilted, fish-out-of-water way he always does when heâs trying to flirt without fulfilling the half-dead requirement first.Â
At armâs length, quivering for the chance to come closer. Like two poles on a magnet, rejection and attraction.Â
(Mhmm, an asshole, Roy thinks, I wonder who. He feels like putting his head in his hands and screaming.)Â
Giggling like youâre kind of drunk and arenât the designated driver, âItâs just one. Well, kind ofâheâsâŠa guy who shows up sometimes.â A pause, as if youâre thoughtfully tonguing the next words into your cheek. âHeâs a fixer too, in a different way, but I think heâs really sweet under all that meanness.âÂ
Jason hums, considerate and falsely sympathetic. âIâm sure heâll come around someday.âÂ
(This fucking dickwad just loves to play in everyoneâs faces.)Â
âSorry,â you breathe for the second time tonight, âyou just have this really reassuring feeling, but I donât wanna put my troubles on you.âÂ
âWell, I did technically start this,â Jason says, and for the first time in what feels like forever, he has the gall to sound sheepish. Roy almost canât believe his ears.Â
âRight, right,â you agree, that smiley sound in your voice again. Then you pitch it down, mimicking, âRough day? Looks like youâve seen some shit.âÂ
âThatâsâI donât sound like that.âÂ
(Agree to disagree. Youâre pretty good with Jasonâs tone.)Â
Scoffing in amusement, you tease, âYou do.âÂ
âEven if I did, you definitely practiced that,â he says. Itâs in a fake-nonchalant voice that Roy can instantly pinpoint even through the shitty Bluetooth connection and the clubâs deafening EDM slop. Jason really is defying all expectations tonight.Â
You hum, âI mightâve picked it up from a certain guy. Canât help itâyou have the same accent.âÂ
That gives Jason pause, if only for a moment. The cylinders in his brain are probably firing at maximum power. âThatâs...impressive.âÂ
Roy wipes a rough hand over his eyes. God, can this guyâs game get any worse?Â
Chewing the inside of his cheek, Roy considers picking up a better job than people-watching. For example: right now, he could be building a crazy spaceship to take him to a planet far, far from Earth and Jasonâs hopeless situation.Â
A flicker of movement catches his eye. Approaching the broker is one of the Penguinâs bodyguardsâRoy remembers him from the last encounter they had with the crime lord. Heâd whipped his bow into the guardâs nose.Â
Still looks like that nasty break hasn't healed well.Â
Slipping a deft hand into the back pocket of his jeans, he pulls out a vape. At least, thatâs what the bouncers thought it was when they patted him down.Â
Roy disassembles it, and a little silver pipe slides into his palm. Itâs warm against his skin. A mini blowgun is definitely not his ideal weapon, but a guyâs gotta do what heâs gotta do.Â
And now, thatâs to shoot a tiny bug onto the brokerâs jacket.Â
The man is already mid-escort to the stairwell that leads to the more private lounge, flanked on the right by the bodyguard. It's a tough shot, and itâs dark and noisy and stuffy as hell in the club, but itâs also Roy Harper whoâs doing this.Â
Slotting the pipe between his lips, he waits for the perfect moment. In a dense, obstructed club like this one, the stars would have to align for him to make the shot.Â
He does anyway, the tiny listening dart flying across the room and latching onto the brokerâs shoulder.Â
Pat on the back, Roy Harper, he thinks, mission well done.Â
âÂ
âShe looked kind of familiar,â Roy teases as they stroll out of the club, almost singing. Â
The thudding bass is still audible, even from the other side of the doors, and his ears will probably be ringing for another week. Not that he needs them to maintain his stellar aim, but how will he listen to Dickâs incessant voice messages about his recent round of stalking Jasonâs not-girlfriend's LinkedIn?Â
Their feet are light on the concrete, only making a greater degree of sound when they briskly traverse the many puddles plaguing Gotham.Â
Case in point: Lake Glenn, named after Glenn Avenue, where a twelve-foot-long, shallow concrete basin of stale rainwater is slowly colonizing the remaining sidewalk. It reeks of piss and sour dick, too. Â
Meanwhile, Jason seems eerily at peace. They cross the street to avoid the pond of pee, and heâs got his hands stuffed in the pockets of his faded jeans. Â
He dodges a whirlwind of litterâit curls into a ball and bounces down the sidewalk like fucking tumbleweedâwith a pep in his step. One block over, a patrol car wails out a single chirp, and Jason doesnât pay any mind. Â
Roy has never seen a smile linger this long on his partnerâs lips, and it almost looks uncanny.Â
He seriously considers grabbing the other man and howling: who are you and what have you done to my best friendâs little brother? Â
Jason Todd does not walk with a bouncy gait. He doesnât stick his hands in his pockets, where the confinement can double the time needed to grab the nearest weapon. And itâs certainly more-than-irregular to ignore a police siren and keep a faint smirk of anything but smugness on his face for more than five minutes.Â
Diana H. Themyscira, heâs in love and heâs stupid with it.Â
Instead, Roy just slips back into his practiced nonchalance and truthfully remarks, âSeems like a good person.âÂ
âShe is.âÂ
The answer is curt. Stony. No room for questions, but boy, does Roy have questions.Â
And since when has he paid any mind to social conventions?Â
Naturally, he must keep pushing. âAlright, I can excuse blatant flirting on the job, but dancing?âÂ
Jason grimaces, finally wiping off that disgustingly fond expression on his face. âWe didnâtââÂ
âDude, you donât even try to defend yourselfâI saw you grinding on her like a lovey-dovey teenage boy with both of my deadeyes.âÂ
The chilly, damp air of the city does nothing to disguise the way his ears bloom with a dusty pink. The Red Hood may be able to school his face, but he still canât control the involuntary rush of blood to his ears.Â
Roy almost coos at the adorable observation, but he rather likes the shape of his nose right now. Â
Anyways, the thought is quickly overwritten by the sheer regret of witnessing how Jasonâs fingers twitched when you guided them to grasp your waist on the dance floor. How his blue-green eyes sat at half-mast and dinner-plate dilated when he pulled your hips to his. How his lips had grazed the shell of your ear, whispering things that made your movements more desperate as you strayed from the pounding beat.Â
Or how Jason, with a furrow of utter shame between his brows, definitely adjusted the fit of his clothingâspecifically his jeansâafter you kissed his cheek and bid a wistful, starry-eyed farewell because your friends needed you to step up as the designated driver.Â
Said horny fool only scoffs, but a quiet smirk of amusement (holy shit, Roy just unlocked a new emotion) dawns on his face, and the sweet rays gradually brighten his gloomy countenance until the soft pink blush in his ears begins to warm his cheeks, too.Â
And with it comes the slow, sweet creep of realization over Jasonâs soldier-like posture.Â
Thereâs that lovey-dovey look.
âYeah,â Jason admits after that moment of reluctance, flicking his still-dilated gaze to a rare patch of starlight glimmering in Gothamâs cloudy sky. He lingers on the pretty sight, the rigidity in his shoulders melting slightly as newfound fondness swims in his eyes. âMaybe we did that.âÂ
notes: this is a continuation of part 1 where damian spies on jason & reader (and is sickened by the yearning) !! also rec checking out my much ado about luv event for some upcoming dc fics <3
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Content and Warnings: Smut! Penetration, male noises. WC: 671
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To a stranger, Jason Todd is no one. But to you, he is the love of your life. The reason you breathe.Â
Your big, burly boyfriend wouldnât hesitate to do anything for you.Â
Those habits, of course, tend to make their way into the bedroom. Jason is submissive. But, not in the sense that he canât handle anything or do things for himself.Â
Just, in small ways. You of course notice.
The small whimpers he tries to hold back when you grind your soaked pussy lips into his cock desperately.Â
Or when he loses himself in your velvet walls, heâll moan involuntarily before forcing his mouth shut.Â
So you decided to put a stop to his hiding. After all, you guys were in it for life.Â
It had been a normal day for the two of you. Relishing in the fact that Jason actually had a day off.
You guys had deep-cleaned the apartment and finished off the night, becoming one with the living room couch. After dinner, Jason helped you to a glass of wine.Â
And ended up with his head between your legs.
âFuckâ, he whispered appreciatingly, âLook at youâ. Your legs were caging him in as he gazed down at your glistening heat. You were close, getting to a point that really only Jason could get you to.Â
Before you hit your peak, you stopped him. âLet me make you feel good this time?â you murmured, sitting up to slot your lips against his, turning the two of you over.Â
Before he could voice his confusion, you lined him up with your entrance and slid down. The moan he let out was sinful.Â
The pace you set was borderline cruel, leaving him unable to hold his whimpers back.
âTell me how bad you need meâ, you murmured against Jason's mouth.Â
He stiffened for a second before a whisper, âPleaseâ, made its way out before he could stop himself.Â
Your lips made their way to his throat, sucking dark marks into his olive skin. And he wasnât sure where to put his hands.Â
Exactly why he creased whatever part of your body he could reach.Â
Your first orgasm of the night was quickly approaching. Your toes tingled as you felt the familiar twinge in your lower belly.Â
Jason could sense you were close and he began to piston up into you as well as he could. Your moans joined his just as you began to climax.Â
A particular angle he hit made the two of you let out a string of lewd noises.Â
His thrusting has begun to lose its coordination and you could tell he was getting close. Your fingers pulled his hair as you traded between whispering sweet nothings into his ear and sucking on the lobe.Â
The pleasure was nearly too much for Jason who has tears building, ready to spill over. His groans in your ear only spurred you on more.Â
Your hips desperately rolled over his as you asked, âYou want to cum for me baby?â Jasonâs face turned a deep shade of red before he nodded.Â
You pushed yourself harder onto him while grabbing his hands and pinning them above his head. He couldâve pushed you off if he wanted to. But he didnât want to.Â
âDo you think youâve earned it?âÂ
His breath hitched before his eyes dropped lower. A whimpered yes made its way out of his mouth before you began to bounce yourself on his length.Â
The tears he tried to hold back began to fall from his eyes as his pleasure took over his body.Â
Licking up his earlobe, you whispered, âYouâve been so good for me Jay. You can cum nowâ.Â
Like a man possessed, he started to piston into you, no longer holding back to reach his climax.  Â
The sensation pulled you into another orgasm, making the two of you moan into each others mouths.Â
You climbed off of him, lying on his side as he panted.Â
âWeâre definitely doing that againâ you finished with a giggle.Â
Authors Note: Sorry I've been so MIA guys!!! I have a few works that will be coming out soon, hence the reason for my absence lol!
   đđ°đđłđł đșđźđżđžđ - 01
đœđźđ¶đżđ¶đ»đŽ! mechanic!jason todd x reader
đđđșđșđźđżđ! your car breaks down and you meet your best friend's brother, jason.
đđźđŽđ! afab!reader, tension, no warnings otherwise!
đđŒđżđ± đ°đŒđđ»đ! 4213
the sun beat beat down against the back of your neck. burning in a way that boiled you from the inside out. the way only the rays of the mid-day sun could flame.Â
your baby had smoke coming out of the hood, one more kilometre away from practically bursting into flames with you behind the wheel.Â
this wasn't the evening you had envisioned for yourself. after a hard morning of classes, and long hours spent at the library with your gaze focused on your laptop screen â all you wanted to do was lay down and do nothing.Â
it was a friday evening, the first friday evening without an obligation.Â
the past month had been a flurry of papers, readings, assignments, papers, presentations, more papers. for once, you had one evening to yourself.Â
all those plans went to waste as the taste of smoke that curled up from your car invaded your senses.Â
you had texted a please of rescue to your best friend twenty minutes ago.
you were no car expert, and you had no desire to begin poking around under the hood of your car.Â
through the sounds of the birds singing in the trees, you finally heard the familiar rumble of tim's own car. a loud engine that rattled the pavement under it's tires. the white car pulled to a stop just behind yours.Â
his boot stepped out first, crunching the gravel below.Â
"please, just do this for me," you heard tim's grumble of annoyance. he ducked his head out of the car, phone raised to his ear. his knuckles were wrapped tightly around the device, bordering white with exertion.Â
you turned your face back towards your car out of privacy. the conversation seemed to be bordering tense.Â
the only indication of him coming closer was the continued thumping of his boot against the pavement. out of the corner of your eye, you could see the tips of his shoes stop just beside you.Â
"yeah, yeah. yes, bro, oh my fucking god. i'll see you soon," he muttered, his clipped tone becoming increasingly more annoyed before sliding his phone into his back pocket.Â
he smiled at you in greeting before leaning his head to inspect the undercarriage. his eyes roved over your battery, your transmission, before analyzing another part that you couldn't name.Â
you were utterly lost.Â
"how is this thing still going," he grumbled softly.Â
you frowned at his words, hand coming up to slap his shoulder.Â
"don't talk about shark like that," you scolded. shark was special to you. she was reliable (for the most part). she was a constant. she had been with you since your first year of university, after you had saved up 3 summers worth of money to purchase her off your neighbour's hands.Â
"listen, shark is beautiful, but constantly fucking you over," tim pointed out, waving a trickle of smoke out of his face.Â
"she's getting old, is all. she's fine," you defended weakly, though your voice held a hint of defeat.Â
"jason's on his way, he said he'll take a look," tim responded, turning around to rest his backside against shark's side. his arms crossed over his chest as he craned his neck to the side to gaze at you.Â
"jason? like your brother jason?" you asked, planting yourself beside him.Â
tim hummed in confirmation.Â
"i've never met this brother," you added hesitantly.Â
"he likes to keep to himself. got a small shop. doesn't take too many clients, but sells a lot of parts to other people. i think. i don't know," tim shook his head, pinching his nose slightly. "he'll bring the tow to get shark to the shop."
just as tim finished explaining, the sight of the bumbling tow truck came into view.Â
"go wait in the car," tim said, nodding his head in the direction of his own car.Â
"oh, but don't you want me toâ" you began, furrowing your brows towards the tow truck that was backing into the space in front of yours.Â
"no, i'll handle it," he stated, turning to face his brother as his brother stepped out of the car.Â
your world stopped as you saw jason over tim's shoulder.Â
god, he was beautiful.Â
your mouth dried up, the bustle of nature quieted down, and tim's presence ceased to exist. he was large. comically so, yet he moved like he didn't know how much space he took up.Â
his brows seemed permanently furrowed, shoulders tense like the weight of the world constantly rested on his shoulders. though it didn't take away from his beautiful features. jet black strands with streaks of white in the front that flopped over his forehead, a strong set jaw that framed a plump lower lip.Â
"let's make this quick, shithead," his voice rang out, deep and smooth. your knees almost buckled under you. it was then that jason had noticed you, half hidden behind tim's frame. he barely blinked in acknowledgment, eyes shifting back to tim within a second of landing on you.Â
why hadn't tim let you meet jason before this?
you had been introduced to his other siblings at some point or another, even had established your own friendship with some of them. but jason, jason was a different ballgame. the way your breath thinned when you saw him scared you.Â
tim glanced at you over his shoulder before returning his attention back to jason. his eyes narrowed slightly at his brother, "dude, you owe me for covering your ass last week, stop being an asshole,"Â
their conversation faded when you finally opened tim's passenger door, sliding your body into the seat. their sibling squabble wasn't of interest to you. curt bickering over small shoves; side eyed glares and quick quips over memories that didn't include you. normal brothers is what they were. you were tired and annoyed â and the sight of jason did something to you, something you weren't ready to admit â and tim's desire to push his brother's buttons did nothing to help. your skin felt tight over your bones, a flush settled under your skin and threatened to restrict your airways. your jeans were sticking to your thighs under the piercing rays of the sun. the warmth felt unforgiving in this moment, cooking you from the inside out.Â
the road in front of you stretched for kilometres, a long-winded gray road that led nowhere, that led to home.Â
a short time later, tim opened the driver's side and slid into the seat.Â
"gonna drive you to the shop, jason said it's an easy fix," he explained, turning the car on and pulling out of his spot. your car had been hooked up to jason's tow truck, your heart sank at the sight.Â
"did he say what happened?" your voice was hoarse from lack of use.Â
"nothing to worry about," he responded, a finality in his tone â one that you had decided wasn't worth the questioning. your car would get fixed, you were sure. then yourself and shark could be on your way.Â
ïčâïčâïčâïč
jason's shop was small.Â
quaint.Â
it was messy, yet clean at the same time. it was a dizzying paradox. the shelves of his shop were meticulous, not a spec of dust could be seen on any surface. though, his belongings overtook the area. his toolbox lay discarded on the floor next to the post-lift, with an assortment of tools laying scattered across the area. they each seemed placed with purpose â like each was there for easy access.Â
the melodic beat of a rock song was playing in the back, some old one from the 80s that you recognized instantly. though, the familiar tune did nothing to drown out the silence that stretched between you.Â
jason was under the hood, back on a trolley that was rolled under shark. his shirt had ridden up, exposing a sliver of his muscles stomach. the smooth patch of skin. you were sat beside of work bench, a small metal chair that froze the back of your thighs â a stark contrast to the sweltering heat you were stuck in only an hour prior.Â
tim had left shortly after dropping you off â he, himself, had papers, assignments, exams to study for just as you did.Â
your voice rang out into the air, introducing your name to the man under your car. the clanging of metal paused for a singular second, and the only sound heard was a guitar solo playing quietly through the speaker.
âŠokayyâŠ
his lack of response unnerved you. you weren't comfortable in this silence. your teeth gnawed into your lower lip, your eyes raking down his lower half. dark blue jeans, faded with use, paired with brown boots with scuffed toes.Â
"so, what exactly is wrong? tim didn't tell me," you attempted again, leaning forward in your seat. his legs shifted, knees falling apart, as he changed the angle in the undercarriage. your eyes raked up the inside of his muscled, jean-clad thigh and sand filled your throat.Â
"when was the last time you got an oil change?" his muffled voice rumbled back, ignoring your questions.
"uhhhh, the previous owner did one before i bought it?" you recalled, brows furrowing with retrieving the information from your memory.Â
"which was when," he continued. a particularly loud clang erupted from beneath the car and you heard jason swear under his breath.Â
"since tim and i's first year?"Â
"the fuck?" he pushed the trolley from under the car, head lifted to regard you in shock. his features were even more pronounced in the dim lighting. the blazing sun was setting, coating the shop in a twilight. the overlight light fought to burn bright enough to light up the room, but fell short. you almost struggled to form another thought as you watched the cut of his jaw clench.Â
"whatâŠ?" your voice came out smaller than you intended it to. you cleared your throat quickly, masking it with a soft cough. "my car runs fine." there it was. your voice was steady. clearer. how you usually sounded. irritation laced your mind, fogging up your senses. you could have been home right now.Â
"you haven't changed the oil since you got this car?" he repeated. his tone disbelieving. a small pit of dread formed in your chest. you hadn't changed the oil, no, you didn't know that you had to.Â
your head shook before you even knew you were committing the action.Â
jason's only response was a huff â a puff of breath and a shake of his head as he rolled himself back under your car. his arm reached out, fingers curling around a tool â you didn't know which â that lay off to the side. you were amazed at how seamlessly he moved underneath your car. how he was able to grab each tool without hesitation, how he knew where each tool lay placed on the floor. it was a harmonious dance between himself and his tools.Â
the silence ate at you again. it was loud.Â
eventually, he wheeled himself out from below your car again, abs flexing through the imprint of his shirt as he pushed himself up. a small streak of grease lined his cheek, cutting a contour down his cheekbone. his hair stuck to his forehead, the white streaks mostly hidden by the black on top of his head.Â
"my cigarettes are beside you, do you mind?" his head nodded towards the pack of marlboro reds and a lighter neatly placed on his work station beside you. you nodded, the items laying heavy in your palm before tossing them to him â one after the other.Â
he shoved one in his mouth before glancing up at you again. his brow raised. "need me to step out? or?"Â
"oh! no, no, you're good,"Â
"want one?" an extra cigarette was pinched between his fingers, extended out towards you.Â
"no, thank you. i don't smoke," you declined politely, your hands settling under your thighs. your mind wandered to the situation at hand. the state of your car was unknown. tim had said there was nothing to worry about, but jason wasn't giving you a reason to believe otherwise. his tools were clanging around down there, creating all sorts of noises that were unfamiliar to you.Â
jason's eyes wandered to the clock on the wall, lips forming an 'o' around an exhale of smoke. the grey cloud streamed out of his lips and curled into the air. your nose wrinkled slightly at the smell, though, you didn't comment.Â
"shop's closed now, darling, gotta come back tomorrow," he inhaled around the cigarette again, eyes flickering over to you. his arms were perched over his bent knees. a position of leisure.Â
"what? no? what about my car?" you protested, back straightening instantly.Â
"it'll get finished tomorrow," his smokey words floated towards you.Â
"you were down there for an hour and a half? what the fuck takes that long?" you stood up in frustration, your hands flailing before your chest.Â
"car shit takes that long. like i said, shop is closing. your car'll be done tomorrow," he pushed himself up, height towering. imposing. his shoulders practically blocked out the little yellowed lighting the room already had.Â
"how am i supposed to get home then?" you snapped, going over to your car to retrieve your wallet from the glove compartment. your car had been lifted onto the post-lift so that jason could work comfortably underneath. you stood on your tip toes, sprawling your body across the height to reach into the consol and grab your belongings.Â
jason couldn't help the way his gaze lingered on your back, over the brown tank top that you wore that accentuated every dip and curve that had his mind spiraling for the past two hours. down to the jeans that hugged your figure like it was made for you. he tried to ignore the way your backside pushed out against the protrusions of your car, unknowingly displaying yourself in for his eyes to see â and hopefully only his eyes.Â
when you finally turned back around, his eyes snapped back up to meet yours.Â
"call your boyfriend to come and pick you up," jason stated flatly, turning his back to you as he began to reorganize his tools. his ears were tuned to your movements, though, tracking every sway of your hips as you shuffled in spot.Â
a scoff left your mouth before you had the chance to catch it.Â
jason paused momentarily, reigning in his silent victory. you didn't have a boyfriend. but he knew you'd call tim, he would retrieve you and jason would finally be able to breath again.Â
you had to bite your tongue. the weight of the situation was pressing down on you, threatening to push you into the earth's crater with every passing moment. it wasn't just your car â no, your car was minuscule in the grand scheme of things. it was life. it was school. it was your job. you didn't have time to deal with a broken down car, you didn't have the funds to repair it either.Â
suddenly, you felt slightly shameful at the sudden burst of attitude you had just given jason. this was his job, not his life. the inconveniences of your life had nothing to do with him. his shop hours were his shop hours, and you would just have to come back to deal with your car in the morning.Â
"well?" he turned to regard you with a raised brow, his eyes shifting up to the clock again. he couldn't be in your presence for another second. his senses were invaded by you. the sweet scent of your perfume that wafted through the air had been torturing him the second you had sat down in his shop. the sight of tim giving you a hug before he left had his nostrils flaring â something he wasn't particularly proud of.Â
but he couldn't stay away from you either. and he knew it too.Â
"yeah, no, that's fine. what time should i be here tomorrow," you blew a soft breath out of your mouth, smoothing a hand over the top of your head.Â
"anytime after nine is good," jason's muscles bulged from where they lay across his chest. the tight black t-shirt he wore scrunched against his biceps. you tried to hide your eyes wandering down his arms, down the sleeve of tattoos littering his arms. a few small birds in flight stood out from the rest.Â
cute.Â
you nodded in agreement, pulling out your phone. "okay. and the address of this place?"Â
he told you, his leg crossing over the other. he remained leaned against his work table, head cocked to the side. his bottom lip was pulled between his teeth. he told you slowly, words enunciating around each number and letter.
you nodded, giving a small polite smile as you moved to leave. "see you tomorrow then, jason, thank you for your help."Â
he dipped his head slowly, eyes never yours as he watched you leave.Â
by the time you had made it outside, your phone call to tim had already been declined. his contact picture â a picture of him asleep in his bed with a facemask on â stared back at you, the brightness blinding you in the setting sun.Â
you let out a sigh and looked around. jason's shop was in the middle of fucking nowhere. with navigation pulled up on your phone, you began to slowly walk in the direction of your home.
ïčâïčâïčâïč
the road felt endless. not a person around for kilometres. you were unsure if that was a good thing, or a bad thing. the rumble of a car in the distance unnerved you. you wrapped your arms around yourself tighter, pushing yourself further away from the road while remaining on the walking path. your head remained high, giving the illusion of confidence.Â
a car slowed to a roll beside you, old and black, dark on the inside. you kept walking, your eyes shifting to the vehicle out of caution.Â
"get in," a gruff voice called out. a familiar voice. your brows ticked downwards before your head snapped towards the vehicle.Â
jason.Â
he was the last person you had expected to see. his car followed your pace, tires crunching over the cracked road. it was eerily quiet out, dark in a way that left you unsettled. once the sun had dipped below the horizon, a chill blanketed the city, extinguishing all traces of sweltering warmth that the daytime had brought.
"i'm almost home, i'm good," you called back, continuing to walk, flashing him a smile that he knew was made of plastic.Â
"i didn't know i had asked you a question," he quipped back. his car remained in a slow roll beside you. "i'm telling you to get in."
"and i'm telling you that i'm fine," you attempted again, shaking your head.Â
your name on his tongue stopped you in your tracks. he hadn't referred to you by your name yet, only nicknames that felt like a punch to the chest everytime he said them. but the syllables â your name â in his voice affected you more than any "darling" or "sweetheart" that had left his lips so far.Â
he didn't say anything further. letting your name linger in the air between you. you knew what words were meant to follow. and you knew he wasn't going to say them again.Â
"fine," you breathed out and stepped towards his car. jason leaned over the consol, shoulder muscles shifted under the strain. he opened the door for you from the inside, his gaze remained fixated on you until you settled with the seatbelt securely before he drove off again.Â
the only way to describe the atmosphere in jason's car was⊠awkward.Â
"you didn't have to do this, i was fine to walk," your voice was more clipped than you had intended, your shoulders shifted behind the seatbelt digging into your neck.Â
"don't think timbo would like it very much if i let the pretty lady walk home while it's dark out," he gave you a sidelong glance. "especially since her car is still in my shop."Â
"i can handle getting home just fine," you huffed, your arms crossing over your chest.Â
"never said you couldn't," his chin tilted slightly. his gaze remained fixed on the road ahead, eyes scanning the street.Â
you didn't know what else to say. your heart was beating so hard, you were sure jason could see it thumping out of your chest.
jason's appearance seemed calm â burdened, even. because he had refused to admit that he had secretly hoped tim declined your call so he could drive you home. rescue you, he had rationalized. he hadn't let you get far before he began following you. no, he was making sure you were safe.Â
you had the survival skills of a leaf, he had learned. you hadn't noticed him once. your eyes shifted between your phone and the road ahead, never once at the car that had been trailing you for the past 15 minutes.Â
and now that you were in his car, he was losing his mind. his grip was steadily tightening on the wheel with the force of his restraint. his back molars were threatening to crack with each clench of his jaw. you were killing him and you had no fucking idea.Â
you were infuriating. and you were kind. it pissed him off. the sight of your face, beautiful and angelic. he could see the fire that sparked in your eyes, and the glow that radiated under your skin. he was sure there was a fucking halo hovering over your head as well.Â
and you were sitting there. in his car. shoulders visible from your tank top. your skin on display. goosebumps raised your flesh, allowing him to see the visible sign of chill and the way you were fighting to hide the shivers that wracked your body. why the fuck weren't you wearing a jacket?
he couldn't stop the puff of annoyance that left his mouth. his arm reached into the backseat, fingers curling around a sweater he had left discarded in the backseat.Â
your brows furrowed when he dumped the sweater in your lap.Â
"whatâ"
"wear it. you're cold," he cut you off, his eyes flickering between you and the sweater.Â
you didn't fight this time, letting yourself be enveloped in the warmth of jason's sweater. the sweater was 3 sizes too big. but so warm. you continued to murmur directions to your home to him, letting the silence overcome you again.Â
the ride was coming to an end, and you were unable to tell if you wanted to stay in his presence or be as far away from him as possible. the conflict was eating at you. his car slowed in front of the building, the streetlights illuminating only a small patch of the otherwise dark street.Â
"well, thank you for the ride," your lips pressed together as you shot him a shy glance.Â
he nodded slowly, his fingers pressing the button of your seatbelt. the click echoed through the car. he placed the seatbelt back in it's rightful place near the door, his steady arm brushing against the front of your shoulder.Â
you tried not to let your breath stutter, but the pitiful sound escaped you regardless. if he had noticed, he didn't let on.Â
you were sure you were going to have a heart attack. his proximity was dizzying. you didn't even know him, yet his presence affected you to an embarrassing degree.Â
god, you were pathetic.Â
his arm shifted to the door handle, body leaning over the consol once again â across the front of your chest â to push it open. his fingers moved with precision. with a level of care that contradicted how much strength he visibly had. up close, you could see each freckle that dusted his cheeks and his nose; the slope of his nose that had a bump right at the bridge; and the dip in his cupid's bow that twitched with every word he spoke.Â
you were mesmerized.Â
jason's eyes met yours, face inches from yours. nose inches from yours. he gave you a languid blink before his gaze flickered down to your lips. his tongue darted out to wet his own before they snapped back up to meet yours.Â
his irises had dilated in size, sucking you into the black void.Â
"don't worry about it," jason murmured back. he was so close that you could feel his breath dust your cheek.Â
his gaze flickered down again, calculating. it would be so easy to kiss you, to taste you like he had been wanting to all evening. but he wouldn't.Â
he pushed the door open slightly before sitting back in his seat. another shudder crawled up your spin from his lack of warmth, despite his sweater covering your body. you pulled it off slowly, setting it in it's place in the backseat again.Â
see you tomorrow, pretty girl," he murmured as you climbed out. you froze momentarily before stepping out and turning to face him. your upper body ducked so you would be eye level with him.Â
JASON TODD X F. READER | he's not usually scared like this
content :: fluff. hurt / comfort ( ish ). established relationship. non-explicit sexual content. general panic attack / anxiety things. ( unspecified ) trauma. bold + italic lines are jason's thoughts. repost from my old blog. wc. ~1.8k
Jasonâs had sex with you plenty of times.
He wasnât counting or anything. He could have, if he wanted to. He liked to count, liked to keep track of things. Numbers, patterns, things he could pin and file neatly into all the right spots. But intimacy wasnât something he generally keeps a catalogue on. Being with you had never felt like it needed to be measured or tracked.
It was just something that simply was.
And there was nothing new about it. The sex, anyways. He enjoyed it. He liked the closeness, the heat, the release that was both physical and mental. And, of course, he liked that it felt good.
So he wasnât sure why all of a sudden it felt like his chest was being crushed.
It all happened too fast. One second his eyes were fixed on you, watching, hands firm on your hips, his breath steady, synced with yours like for just a moment the two of you were one. And then his breath stuttered. His throat felt like something had wrapped around it and pulled tight. The air felt thick, sticking in his throat like he was choking on molasses.
He blinked hard, trying to wipe it away, but it did nothing to put the room back in place, it only continued to blur around the edges. Your sounds â the pretty whimpers, and soft, breathy gasps of his name â sounded distant, like the sound was traveling through water to get to his ears.
It sounded far away. Too far away. Too far.
No, no, no â
He tried to force himself out of it, tried to force himself to think his way back to reality, to figure out why this was happening.
Youâre home.
He latched onto the thought, mind digging its claws into it.
Apartment. Bedroom. Bed.
He could feel the sheets under his back, the weight of you on top of him, the smell of the room. He went through it all. Everything he could see, hear, smell, feel. The whole bit. None of it seemed to help.
No blood. No bruises. All my limbs.
His eyes darted down to your body. A quick â almost tactical â assessment. And you were fine. No signs anything was wrong with you. No sign you were in pain, or in danger. Nothing was wrong. If anything, you seemed to be enjoying yourself. Completely unaware of what was going on in his mind and body. No fault of yours, of course.
Sheâs okay.
Youâre okay.
So why did he feel like this ?
Was it because he had you on top ? No. That couldnât have been it. He had you ride him all the time. He liked it. Very quickly it had become one of his favorite positions. Laying back and watching you use him to make yourself feel good, grabbing your hips to fuck into you when you got too tired.
Heâd never had an issue with it before. He loved it.
His grip on your hips tightened before he realized it, nails digging a little too hard into the skin, leaving behind shallow half-moon shaped indents in the soft flesh. The sting made you flinch, small and sharp.
âStop ââ
The word tore from his throat, felt like it was dragging glass along the muscle and tissue inside it. He pressed down, slowing the roll of your hips against his.
âI need you to stop ââ
The panic in his voice, the way it shook and cut through everything else, had you scrambling off him in an instant. No hesitation, no question. Just moving, leaving cold where your weight and warmth had been.
Jason stayed where he was, laying flat on his back, wide eyes fixed on the ceiling. His chest rose and fell too fast, each breath caught on the way in and burned on the way out. His body felt wrong, like it wasnât really his anymore.
The room felt off, like it had gotten smaller and smaller around him.
âJay âŠâ Your voice was careful now.
He felt the mattress shift next to him as you moved, felt you get closer before he actually saw your hand reaching out towards him. And something in his chest spiked, his body moving before his mind could.
His hand shot out, catching your wrist before you could reach him. Too tight, he hadnât meant it to be.
âDonât ââ He gripped on you loosened, but he didnât let go, still holding you away. âPlease donât touch me right now.â
The request came out rough, but not angry. He wasnât angry, he was scared. And his body had a bad habit of mixing the two up.
Confusion flickered over your face, your brows creasing, but you didnât argue, didnât push at him. You lowered your hand, bringing it back to rest in your lap.
âAre you okay ? Did I do something ?â
Jason only shook his head, the motion small and quick, and you werenât sure which of your questions he was answering. He didnât elaborate.
He forced himself to sit upright, dragging his hand down his face before pushing his sweat damp hair back off his forehead. His skin felt too tight, and every touch felt like he was being stabbed. Everything in and around him felt wrong.
He shifted to the edge of the bed, planting his feet against the carpet. His chest was still tight, breaths still burned, the world still felt small. He didnât understand it.
âI need ââ He swallowed hard, âIâm just ⊠gonna go shower. Real quick.â
He didnât wait for a response before getting up.
The lock on the bathroom door clicked shut behind him, followed by the sound of the running water.
He stepped in the shower before it had time to warm up, letting it hit him cold.
It helped.
A little.
For a second.
He pressed his forehead against the tile wall, letting the water run down his face and back. His heart was still racing, everything still felt too wrong, and too loud. He felt like he was going to be sick.
âWhat the hell ?â
He didnât move to grab the soap, didnât wash his hair. He didnât do anything but stand there.
Youâre safe.
He knew that. There was no threat, no danger. Nothing was happening, to him or to you. So why did he feel like there was, why was his body reacting like he was in some sort of crisis ?
Why did it feel like the world had him pinned down, stripped bare, with no way to get away â
His chest squeezed again.
He forced himself to breathe in, held it until his lungs burned, and let it out.
Again
Again
Again.
Heâd never admit how long it took him to even out his breathing, to force the panic into something quieter. Not gone, not by a longshot. But quieter.
He still didnât have an answer when he shut the water off.
He dried himself off quickly, pulling on a pair of sweatpants, tying them low around his hips. When he left the bathroom, hair still dripping onto his forehead, the bed was empty. For a second that made the panic feel sharp in his chest again.
Then he heard the quiet sounds of movement, the faint click of ceramic. He followed the sound down the hall to the kitchen. He found you at the counter, your back to him, dressed in a pair of soft underwear and a bra. Your hair was messy, shoulders relaxed in a way that showed him you werenât upset.
You were just waiting. Always waiting.
Jason stepped up behind you, arms sliding around your waist, pulling you back against him. His chin found your shoulder, taking its usual spot there.
You were making tea, and he could tell by the smell of it and the cup you were using that you were making it for him, not yourself. He watched your hands as you stirred honey into the cup, using that tiny spoon he always cracked jokes about. The one that looked like it belonged in a dollhouse, not a kitchen drawer.
You reached for the wooden salt jar next, stirring a pinch in with the same spoon. He remembered he cringed when you first showed him that. Now he canât stand taking his tea any other way.
ââM sorry âŠâ He muttered against your cheek
Your free hand came up, fingers brushing against his jaw. It made his breath catch, softer this time.Â
âNo need to be sorry, Jaybie.â You assured him âAre you okay ?â
He shifted, tucking his face into the crook of your neck, pulling his shoulders in. A failed attempt to make himself smaller.
âDonât know what happenedâ The admission made his mouth feel like it was full of sand and stones. âIâm sorryâ
You didnât rush to answer, letting the quiet linger comfortably as you finished his tea.
âItâs okayâ You said gently, âYou donât need to know. Sometimes things just ââ
âDonât.â He didnât mean to cut you off, and he didnât mean to sound so snappy either. He forced himself to take a breath, forced his body to relax into yours before he tried again.
âIâm sorry. Just ⊠Donât do the feelings thing. I canât ââ He took another breath when he caught his tone again. âJust not right now.â
âOkay.â You nodded, âHabit.â
Apology.
Jason hummed against your skin.
Acceptance.
âDid you finish ?â He asked after a moment of quiet
âNo.â You answered, no hesitation, no embarrassment or shame. Just a fact.
âBut thatâs okay.â You added, âI donât need to finish every timeâ
Jason grunted against your skin, and that was enough to tell you that he did not agree with that statement.
âWe can try again,â he suggested. But his tone was cautious, like he wasnât quite sure.
And you picked up on that. Of course you did, it was how you were, how youâd always been.
You turned around in his arms, he raised his head to let you move, but his eyes didnât quite meet yours once you faced him.
âHey âŠâ Your hands came up, holding either side of his face between your palms. You tilted his head up until his eyes were on yours. It took more effort than heâd like to admit to hold them there.
âWe donât have toâ You continued, âWe can. But only if youâre okay.â
He was quiet for a while. Checking in with himself, his teeth biting into the skin inside his cheek as he thought it over.
He felt better. A little. Not good, but better
But there was still that lingering feeling. Something biting under his skin. There was a quiet squeezing in his chest still that hadnât fully gone away, like a memory only his body seemed to remember, that his mind couldnât quite put a finger on.
âMaybe tomorrow ?â He whispered. He paused, letting out a soft, slow exhale. âYeah ⊠Yeah, maybe tomorrow.â
You smiled, bringing his face to yours to press a firm, gentle kiss against his cheek.
.·:*šàŒș   cupid's girl.   Ⱡ  bob reynoldsÂ Â àŒ»Âš*:·.
SUMMARY:Â in which a failed assassination attempt turns into something more
SHIP: afab!reader x Robert Reynolds
WARNINGS: explicit content (minors stay out), unprotected p n v, and f receiving oral, sub!reader, bob can't pick between being a soft or hard dom, spittingggg??? also you hate bob's guts before he rearranges yours! #enemiestoloversfinalboss. random storytelling/porn with a plot. is this a self insert? i wish I knew. also btw you're from florida now :D!!
TW FOR:Â mentions of murder/violence/self inflicted harm, grief, recovery/healing, ptsd related topics, mass violence mention.
WORD COUNT:Â 7K
SONG:Â cupid's girl by MARINA
"Don't panic when it hits âŽshoot my arrow right into your back!"
A/N:Â well well well shawties... I've returned. This plot is a lil crazy but it made sense in my head so i wrote it. Â I haven't written smut in so long but i have been treated well since then so maybe this is better than my previous work ;) I'm having such a weird regression into my old fandoms so I might publish more work soon! as always, reblogs, comments, likes, and shares are greatly appreciated!
.·:*šàŒșâ±àŒ»Âš*:·.
Quiet steps lingered down the hall as you got a handle on your bow, you knew your mission was only complete if he was taken down, and the last thing you wanted to do was betray Valentina. You were her favoriteâŠwhich only started to click for you now. Of course you were. Thereâs no Valentines without cupid shooting arrows and manipulating the background. You were the baseline for The Sentry Project; a test dummy. And similar to the Sentry, you were the only one to survive. Valentinaâs secret weapon. You were agile, quick, and seemingly docile and sweet.Â
To quote Valentina, directly; âsheâs like if Sabrina Carpenter and Natasha Romanoff had passionate sex and scissored out their love childâŠthatâs you, by the way.âÂ
Of course, you didnât harbor the same powers as Sentry, in fact, you were almost sure you were created to be the Eve in this situation. Some sidekick with the cute gift of emotionally manipulating the emotions of others, while also being a ruthless killer. You donât emotionally manipulate others the way most people think off; sure, you bat your pretty lashes and you talk lightly and yes, occasionally, you play devil's advocate. However, you could feel and change the way others feel just by touching them. You know your hand to hand combat, but what's the point if you can just shake someoneâs hand, hunt them, seduce them, and control someone so well that they do the job for you?Â
No bruises, busted lips, or bloody noses if you will someone toâŠwell, you know.Â
Itâs what made you so dangerous, and maybe, just as powerful as Valentinaâs trophy. Itâs also what made him such a good target for you. No need to take him down if you just shake his hand. You could feel the calmness around the room he stayed in, it was almost too calm. It was expected; Valentina just paraded him around and called him and his ragtime team of circle jerkers the âNew Avengersâ? New Avengers? The sentiment alone made you gag on envy. You hated that they got their flowers while you stayed put, while you obeyed, while you kept sweet. Sentry was just a glorified military weapon. You were the will of Eros and Sigmund Freudâs worst nightmare.Â
It shouldâve been you.Â
And the fact that Valentina still wanted him gone, despite everything, made this operation all the more vital; promising you his spot, promising you everything you initially signed up for when you decided to go through the test trials for the Venus project; a better life. Not a life of suffering.Â
It was easy sneaking into where the Thunderbolts were staying at, in fact, you already ran into two members already; that fat oaf Red Guardian and the family dollar (and slightly closeted) Captain America, John Walker. It was easy to get them out of your way, the same way you got men to move out of your way your entire life. Staring up at them with your big eyes and pretending that you were doing the opposite of what you were actually doing; And maybe you did pat a couple shoulders here and made them lessâŠon guard.Â
It didnât matter, you werenât here for them, youâre here for the poor manâs Homelander. Or whomever he really is. Despite having the same background, being from the same lab, you never once met him, or knew him beyond his project name. You knocked on the door, laying your weapon against the frame of the door as you straightened up. It was your time to shine. Your time to prove everyone wrong; dressed in a white blouse, a black skirt that was way above your knee, and knee high boots with tights underneath.Â
The door slightly opened, a small crack of light entering the room as curious, doe eyes peaked out behind the slab of wood that separated you from your most treasured victim. The plan was simple; fill him with the doubt, the rage, the sadness that he had before, and then some. Let him do the rest. It wouldnât surprise anyone considering his history. You were a character assassin. However, the awkwardness filled the air with its stiffness. You could smell how anxious he got as it sept through every pore. Once he opened the door, you realized he was a lot more timid than previously mentioned. You almost thought you had the wrong guy.
âUmâŠcan I help you?â He stammered.Â
Biting the inside of your cheek, you smiled. âYes.â a soft hum leaves you. âAre you Robert Reynolds? I-I got sent here by Mel to do a room check.â you lied, even dropping a slight stutter to convey just how nervous the idea of this made you; even if it didnât bug you at all. âI already checked in with the others, you were last on my list.âÂ
He raised an eyebrow. â...Why couldnât Mel do it?â he asked earnestly.Â
He already had you stumped, but you just shrugged. âShe got promoted, so I'm the assistantâs assistant nowâŠfunny how life works, right?â you stared up into his eyes, you could practically hear his heart beating faster and faster the longer he made eye contact with you. Anxiety mixing in with curiosity, and a hint of attraction; oh, he was in for a rude awakening. He didnât need to know that just yet. âSo, are you gonna let me in?â you ask kindly.Â
He hesitated, you could see his jaw clenchingâwas that irritation? You didnât care. The minute he stepped aside, you sauntered in, looking around at the bare room as your eyes went towards the nightstand. You slowly walk over as you open the drawers and rummaged through what was inside with only your eyes. âHow come Iâve never seen you before?â
You snap over to him. âWhat do you mean?â
âWell, I would have recognized you if you worked for Mel.. or Valentina, for that matter.â he leaned against the wall, looking down at the ground until his eyes met yours. You brushed it off with ease. âWas always more of a background actor.â you hummed as your fingers went to the other drawer. âBesides, I was away while everything was happening, just got back from a trip the minute you strolled in. I can't say I'm terribly inconvenienced by the suddenness of everything.â it was a white lie, you were inconvenienced.Â
he just nodded. âI meanâŠyouâre a government worker.âÂ
Yeah, and so are you; 1/4th of the military spending. Â
You clenched your jaw, releasing it as you turned your head, flashing a fake smile as you shut the drawers behind you. âYou can say that, yeah.â weâll agree to disagree for now. You sigh softly and look around. There wasnât much else to check for your fake assignment, it was time to move onto the real one. You approached him. âYou should hit up an Ikea or something, and soon, itâs kind of sad in here.â you joke lightly, feeling him slightly relax.
âEh, I guessâŠI could fill it up with some things like a bean bag or a nice rug, maybe a couple of posters like a SlowDive one or maybe even an FSU one-â
General disgust hit your face, and you werenât too keen on hiding it, and he noticed it right away. He furrowed his eyebrows, laughing nervously. â...what?âÂ
âAn FSU poster?â your voice winced softly.
Then it hits him, he takes a step back, and a smug look on his face replaces the timid one. âAreâŠare you from Florida too?â he questioned, and you shook your head, not to say no, that youâre not from Florida, but to say; âThe Gators are so much better-â â-Ew, no.â he combated. âLet me guess, Orlando?â he joked softly. God, we really are in a sassy man apocalypse.Â
You scoffed. âGross, Iâm from Tampa.âÂ
âShouldâve seen that coming.â he smiled softly. âYouâreâŠa lot nicer than Mel and Valentina, despite your bad taste in college sports-â â-Iâll have you know, that the Gators have won multiple national championships, and I also root for the Bulls.â you cut off, then blush slightly. âSorryâŠand thank you, Robert.â you stare up at him, and there it is again; Anxiety mixing in with curiosity, and a hint of attraction; a shot of attraction now, there might as well be a pint of it the next go around. The man looked down at her.Â
âIâmâŠBob, by the way. No one calls me Robert.â He sticks his hand out.Â
The golden opportunity, you practically water at the mouth to get your hand over his. You didnât want to make yourself look desperate to touch him; thatâs always a little awkward. You wanted to give it such a good shake that you were able to send him on that spiral, without having to use that weapon you brought and stashed in his blindspot. So you grin, your manicured fingers slowly slithering over and interconnecting with his fingers, as power surged through you. It felt like a runners high, better than sex, better than taking back whatâs yours. âY/Nâ
You could see it actively working, the uncertainty that lingered on his face, yet, something else started to swallow you whole. You felt it run through you as everything turned black, and for a second, Bob was gone. He was the Sentry, after all, maybe you were the delusional one for thinking you could be as powerful as him. However, Valentina didnât mention this. She didnât mention this unwavering ability he had that made you feel utterly alone.
You felt yourself shift to a new plane of existence, your body now sitting as slight murmuring grew louder and more coherent. The smell of coffee and old books hit your senses like a gut punch, and fluorescent lights peaked through your thin eyelids and lashes. Your clothes were the same, yet everything was different. When your eyes opened, you noticed yourself sitting in a group with people you wouldn't believe you were seeing. Because they were your classmates. Because itâs been years. Because..theyâre all dead. The monotone voice was your teacher. She was dead. The clock struck 2:15, and stayed that way after that day. You were strapped to your seat, an adult, seeing your teenage pupils panic to news over the intercom.Â
Stuck to your seat, you watched them scramble to barricade doors. Stuck to your seat, you watch them arm themselves with textbooks and chairs. Stuck to your seat, you watched as everything failed, and each life got ripped away from you, the way you couldnât have seen back then when you played dead. This was what you were escaping. This is the promise Valentina failed at keeping; having to see it play out over and over again; until you realized you could move. You could always move.Â
You try to run to the door, swinging it open and seeing yourself and Valentina going over your own project. Before you could run to your salvation, you see Bob on the other side of the classroom, staring at you in horror.Â
You snap back to reality, stumbling back as tears reach the rims of your eyes. You were on the verge of hyperventilating as your legs shook, holding onto the edge of the bed frame. Your knees cowering as you look down at the floor. Bob puts his hands up, almost as shocked as you are. As your mind racks with the idea of how your powers failed you here, Bob stares at you.Â
âI know what you areâŠâ he says sternly, his jaw tensing up as he keeps his gaze. âProject Venus?â he asked.Â
You try to calm down, your breaths slowing down slowly as your eyes finally meet him. You neither confirm or deny. â...Project Sentry.â you grit. You see him slowly put his hands down. âValentina told me that everyone from Project Venus diedâŠâ you watch as he connects the dots as to why you were kept in the dark for so long. Before he had time to process the possible failed assaination by proxy attempt, you ran to hit, backhanding him, distracting him, before kneeing him in the stomach.
He groaned, annoyed, and before you could land another punch, he grabbed your wrist; holding it tightly as you tried to snatch it away. âIâm not gonna fight you-â â-bullshit, if you know me, and what I can do, then you know why Iâm here-â â-it doesnât work, and thatâs why you were scrapped, now stop before you sprain something-robâ you didnât listen, you kicked him and pushed him out of the way, running to the door and grabbing the bow, and aiming it at him.Â
âGod, what the fuck, Stop!â He holds his hands up.Â
âWhat did you do to me?â you barked. âHow did you-â your voice shook as Bob shook his head. âLook, itâs clear that Valentina fucked us both. Okay? You-You have every reason to be upset! She didnât care about you then and doesn't now either. She probably sent you here to be killed just-just-put the fucking bow down, please!â he pleaded. âPlease donât make me hurt you more than I already have-âÂ
âOh shut up!â you raised your voice over his. âI was supposed to be you! I signed over my entire life to be as great as you and you stole that from me, you stole my lifeâŠâ your tears ran down your cheeks. âYou stole my life, and I'm gonna get it back!âÂ
âI didnât steal your life.â he snapped. âValentina did. That man who did that to your friends back in high school did.â he huffed out as he dropped his hands. âGod, Y/N, what was the plan here? You âinfectâ me with depression until I kill myself? Do you know anything about me outside of me being the Sentry?â he stared in bewilderment. âValentina used just about everyone in this building, youâre not alone.âÂ
Your hands shake as you hold the bow, and you start to realize that you never shot the bow before, and that youâve always cruised simply by using your powers. Bob saunters over, his hands reaching towards her bow and lowering it. âThereâsâŠnothing you can do that I haven't already done to myself.â he admits. âPlease stop, before you hurt yourself.âÂ
Youâre enraged, and you want to do everything you can to regain control, but thereâs no use. You throw your weapon on the ground, drying up your own tears as you sniffle softly. âDid you learn all that after singing kumbaya with Red Room Barbie and her fucking friends?!â you spat. Bob just nods. âI donât know, have you ever considered that maybe you could use your powers to help people? Instead of hurting them?â he barked back. âYou know how much time you could save if you healed people instead of, I donât know, inducing suicideâCan you stop fighting with me for a second.âÂ
You hate that heâs right. âIf i started with you, weâd be here all night. You have enough personalities to keep me completely occupied.âÂ
âNow thatâs a low blow.âÂ
You both just stare at each other, staying silent for a second as you sigh. âWhy didnât my powers work on you?â you were dying to know, even if it meant knowing that you were a failure, and you were meant to be scrapped.Â
Bob shrugged. âI donât know. I wish I could tell you.â he sincerely said. âMaybe instead of filling aâŠwhatever I am with depressive thoughts, have you considered filling me up with happy thoughts? Let me live like that for a bit and then come back to take it from me? Maybe I'll do what you want then.â he muttered that last part under his breath.Â
âAre you seriously giving me tips on how to kill you more efficiently?âÂ
âI donât know anymore, Y/N. This is awkwardâIâm feeling awkward, in case you canât tell.â he stared into your eyes. âYou know why your trial was called Project Venus, Y/N? Itâs because Valentina wanted to make a-a seductress who was an assassin. A wholeâŠKilling Eve situation.â he critiqued. âYou put the super serum in Steve Rodgers, you get Captain America. You put the super serum in me, you-you get a clusterfuck of problems. But if you give it to a people pleaser? you get an emotional manipulatorâŠâÂ
You had enough. âYou know what? Fuck you, Sentry.â you pick up your bow, not drawing anything, but holding it, just ready to leave this all in the past. âIf thereâs nothing I can do that you âhavenât already done to yourselfâ then my work here is done. Youâre the ticking time bomb. Not me.â you spat, only to feel what you felt earlier again; the anxiousness, now masked with annoyance and anger, the curiosity, the attraction skipped the pint size, and the pitcher, and the gallon, it jumped two gallons three. Four. Five. You didnât care, though. He kept pissing you off.Â
âYou arenât gonna try?â he asked.
You groaned and turned around. âJesus christ, Bob. What would make you happy, huh?â you bellowed. âA puppy? A girl? FSU actually winning something?âÂ
Bob sighed. âAll I know is that we came from the same lab, and weâre both the only survivors. Itâs not a fluke. If you truly want to know why your powers didnât work on me, then I'm telling you that youâre using them wrong.â he looked down at your hand. âPut it on my chest, make me think of something good. Valentina sent you here to dieâŠprove her wrong.â he earnestly suggested. âI was able to prove her wrong, so were the Thunderbolts.âÂ
You hated that this might be the reason why it didnât work on him. Maybe he was already filled with such darkness, that filling him with more, oversaturating the inevitable, it was never going to work. The public knew about Project Sentry, but not Project Venus. It made sense as to why youâd never be in the picture. It was a losing game. It was always a losing game. Reluctantly, yet, willingly, you dropped your bow and placed your hand on his chest. Oh⊠there had to be a rock underneath his sweatshirtâŠwas it always this tight? Didnât matter, you tried to focus on something that would make anyone feel good. Chocolate, a good cry, ten hours of sleep. Something.Â
Bob looks at your hand, then down at your face, studying every feature. Your hand glows a soft pink, your eyes moving underneath your eyelids as you try to change his demeanor. You just sigh and pull away. âThis is stupid-â â-maybe.â he muttered. Looking up at him, you realized how close you two were to each other. âAll I can feel is how much I annoy you and stress you out.â his heart beats faster, the blood rushes to his face, and you felt all of that too, you just didnât want to entertain that possibility. âCan also feel how bad you want me.âÂ
Bobâs cheeks turned a dark shade of pink, he furrowed his eyebrows. âWell, Cupidâs Girl. at least you didnât force me to feel that.â he looked down.Â
Your breath hitches slightly, but you shake your head at the idea of it. âIâm not dealing with this-âÂ
âIâm just trying to help you see that you donât have to follow her orders anymore.â He gulped softly, staring into your eyes. âNone of us do. Actually, the last thing I want is to see another person like me be under her thumb-âÂ
â-Iâm nothing like you.â
âBullshit.â he said softly. âTraumatized Floridian escapes pain by signing up for a trial, instead of going to therapy, they become the sole survivor of said trial and, under Valentina De Fontaineâs thumb, they become her own personal weaponâŠSounds familiar?â you couldnât escape from the similarities after he put it into words. You just sigh, opening up your mouth to say something, but Bob cuts you off. âI mean, we own her. Donât you want that? It doesnât drain you to do her bidding every now and again?âÂ
Damn it. You just look down, but feel his hand slowly raise to your cheek. He was right. Part of you hated how something as beautiful as being an empath, emotionally attuned, as turned into some cheap party trick to make top scientists and government officials leave the world behind without a single thought. There was a time you wanted to help others. You figured after you learned what you could do, you could help yourself. It doesnât work on you, but you wished it did. You felt Bobâs thumb run across your cheek, feeling his anxiety tremble once the both of you locked eyes. â...youâll never have to force anyone to do anything awful ever again, you wonât even have to force them to love you.âÂ
âWhat makes you so sure?âÂ
Bob just gazed into your eyes, trailing along your soft features as his eyes fluttered down to your lips. Oh, because I didnât have to force you to want to help me. I didnât have to force you to see me as more than just a potential enemy. His eyes flicker back up to yours. He wants to say more, maybe even show you exactly what he means. Heâs too anxious, too awkward, too nice, while also flooding with some sick desire to have his way with you. The air between the two of you gets thick. The same way it did when he first opened the door, except now the playing field has flipped itself on its head. You stare down at your hands, and so does he, before his eyes find yours again. Itâs almost like heâs signaling you on what to do.Â
Your hand slowly reached his chest, but before you could make him feel anything, he mustered up the courage and grabbed your chin, slowly bringing it over to him as he kissed you softly. Maybe he just wanted you to touch him, not to make him feel anything he doesnât already feel, but to reassure him that he wanted to feel you and only you. You feel him relax into you, all the anxiety and curiosity quieting down as you gently kiss back, bumping noses and heavy breaths as the kiss deepens. One hand shakily goes to your waist as he uses the other to slowly shut the door behind him.Â
You werenât expecting this, and part of you wasnât sure if this is something that should happen, but once you both pulled away, your lips chased each other again; like magnets trying to find their polar opposite. You felt his grip on your waist slowly tighten, almost scared heâd break you if he grabbed too roughly too soon. Your arms find themselves around his neck as you feel your body get warm with need, way too soon to be feeling like that until your tongues accidentally brush past each other; then it was game on for the both of you.Â
He feverishly kissed you as his grip on you strengthened, a small huff leaving him as you felt yourself gravitate to him. Feeling his knee slowly slip between your thighs, it was all too convenient. His hand grappling to the back of your neck as he pulled you in more; like he was some needy vampire and you were a blood bag with his name written all over it. His hand on your waist slid over to your lower back as he pulled you more into him, as if you could fade into him, as if he wanted you all to himself. And who were you to deny him of that? Especially if you just started to feel yourself dampen, and wanting nothing more than to get rid of the chaste feeling of not knowing what to do, and wanting something more so bad.Â
Alchemizing the hate into passion was something you never thought you could do for yourself. Your hate for Sentry turned into wanting nothing more than to show him just how deeply you felt about him, how deeply you felt for him. The kissing picked up more and more, until teeth started clashing and the both of you started running out of breath. You pull away, breathing heavily and almost mumbling against his lips. âBob-â oh god, you canât believe you were getting hot and heavy over someone who willingly goes by the name âBobâ.Â
He whines softly after he stops chasing your lips for more kisses, you can feel the heat radiating off of him like a space heater. His fingers run through your hair, as he huffs gently. âSweetheartâŠâ he hoarsely said, his voice dripping in desperation as his thumb slowly ran across your bottom lip. He couldnât believe that youâd let him get this far with you. âYou stress me out.â he chuckles softly. And it turns you on. you think to yourself as he leaves soft kisses on the corners of your mouth. âPicking a fight with me just toâŠâ his mind lingers on the idea of having you in his arms the way he has you now. He loves hearing your heartbeat speed up with such a slight or sudden move, and you realize youâre not the only one who can hear hearts too.Â
He softly kisses you for a split second, before leaning his forehead against yours. âPlease?â he asked tenderly against your lips. You nearly squeeze your thighs around his knee at the idea of him touching you without it whisking you away to some twilight zone. This could be a sweet dream instead of some awful nightmare, one you deprived yourself of since the trial. âPlease I wa-wantâŠâ he chokes up, before you nod your head and reciprocate the kiss from earlier; short and sweet. You felt him smirk against your lips as he gently pushed you back up against the bed.Â
The bed is plush, and soft; itâs a stark contrast compared to the surprising pair of abs underneath Bobâs shirt. He eagerly attaches his lips to your neck, taking a deep breath and smelling the sultry perfume and the vanilla shampoo that you lather your hair in each night. Your skin is the softest thing heâs ever touched, and he misses it more and more each time he pulls away from you. âSo..fucking pretty.â he mumbles to himself as his lips trail down to your collarbone, your blouse getting in the way of everything he wants.Â
Your breathing speeds up softly as his hands fidget with the buttons of your blouse, you can feel him have some semblance of self control, and how close he was with throwing it out the window just to have you. God, you can feel the self constraint. He was strong enough to rip your clothes off with one tug, but the last thing he wanted was for this to be shorter than he wanted it to be, even if he wanted nothing more than to dive into you. The more buttons he unclasps, and the more skin he sees underneath, the harder you feel him get. It was right up against your thigh, and all you wanted was to feel it break you in.Â
He breathes out a soft âfuckâ as his eyes wander onto yours, almost pleading for permission to strip you from the rest; please let me undress you, let me tear this off of you, let me have you. You could feel yourself getting more and more wet with each passing second. The way his hands slowly went over to your inner thigh and softly stroke his thumb closer and closer to your core was just the tip of the iceberg. He slowly leans forward, leaving another kiss on your plump and chapped lips. He stares down at you. âI need to taste youâŠplease?â his voice becomes rash, strained, restricting himself so he doesn't go crazy needing you.Â
âYou wanna taste me?â your voice is tainted with the desire to assume control, because he sounded so pathetic for you. He nods like a puppy, nearly salivating from the mouth like one too. âYou wanna taste how fucking sweet I am for you?â you reiterate, feeling his thumb slowly slide between your clothed crotch, feeling how damp your tights were, knowing your panties had been lined with how sweet and wet you are.Â
He blushes at your words. âThatâŠmouth of yours.â he raspily voiced, and before you knew it, the self restraint he could have prided himself on melted away. He pulls your hips down, taking your black miniskirt with you and unzipping your boots in the process as well. You canât help but let out a soft laugh. âSomeoneâs eager-â you hum before a gasp leaves you, because before you knew it, he had ripped your stockings; tears lining down your leg as he leaned down. God your panties were cute, and you weren't even planning on this happening. Lucky you.Â
He leaned down and gently kissed your clothed clit, a shiver went down your spine as tender whines left your parted lips, and the more noise you made, the more Bob kissed and rubbed and sucked on your panties. The friction makes you more and more desperate. You then felt Bob slowly slide that strip of soaked fabric to the side, spitting on your clit before ravenously lapping his tongue over your sensitive, throbbing nub.Â
A moan rips from your throat as you toss your head back, feeling your back start to sweat with anticipation as he buries himself more into your cunt. His arms wrapping around your thighs as he forces you down on his tongue. If there was a heaven, this was it; getting endlessly eaten out by someone you tried fist fighting with earlier. You feel your stomach churn with excitement as he drinks out of you, instantly getting drunk off of you, and muttering helplessly against your clit; âgod so sweetâso fuckinâ sweetâsound so prettyâ intercutting with a few moans and swear words. You relished in how weak he was for you. âFuck, Bob!âÂ
Just the single mention of his name made him speed up, sucking on you as his tongue gently continued to savor every last drop of you. Youâd squeeze your thighs around his head, and he forced them back open. If you wanted, he could stay like that for hours; tongue deep into you while prying your shaky legs open. He wanted to stay like that, until your moans became higher in pitch, and more airy in tone.Â
His eyes searched for yours, and the way he was looking up at you made it impossible for you to look away or not beg for more. Before you had the chance to, his fingers slowly slid into you, causing your back to arch since there was no sign of him ever slowing down his tongue. Moans spilled out of you as your wetness leaked all over your ripped stockings; dribbling down Bobâs chin and making him even more privy to what you liked, what you wanted, what you needed.Â
If he was drunk on your juices, then you were equally as drunk as him on his motions. You became a bumbling mess, and he hasnât even stuck himself in you just yet. âOhmygod.â you mumbled as more moans got caught up in your throat. You felt the urge in your stomach, blood rushing more and more to your groin as you whimpered. âJustâŠbreakingâŠyouâŠinâ he muttered against your clit, a low hum escaping him as his fingers rapidly entered you, leaving you, entering again, and feeling it overwhelm you.Â
âGod-so close!â you whined as he sped up. He huffed out a small laugh, continuing to work on your clit as his fingers curled inside of you, pressing into that soft spot none of your past partners could reach. A small squeal left you as your legs shook with desire. Grabbing a pillow and holding it to your mouth, you came all over his tongue, and you watched as he licked up everything he could get out of you. Your muffled moans were music to his ears, as he pulled himself up, grabbing the pillow from you and engulfing you in another kiss.Â
Tasting how sweet you were, how tart it was on his tongue, and how it ran down his neck; you grabbed his face and pulled him away from your lips. He kept on wanting to kiss you, pouting when he couldnât. You tried to catch your breath before feeling him slide off his sweatpants, exposing his boxers and the giant bulge he was sporting. You could see it throb as he looked into your eyes. âPlease SweetheartâŠâ he begged. âI wanna feel how soft and warm you are for me please.â his voice strained as he looked into your eyes.Â
You nod, eagerly pulling off his underwear with him and staring at his cock. Your cheeks, as if they werenât red already, turned crimson at the idea of him splitting you in half with his member, already dripping in precum. Your hand slowly goes over and wraps around him delicately, seeing a shiver run through him as he grabs a chunk of your hair and pulls you up just to kiss you, then softly letting go and slowly going back down with your lips still attached to each other. A soft moan passes his lips, which are red and plump from the excessive kissing. He teases your entrance. âSweet thingâŠâ he whispers before placing a soft kiss next to your lips. âGood girlâ he hums as he slowly slips himself in you; whimpering the deeper he went
A gasp leaves you as you try to adjust to his length; you werenât expecting it to make you feel so stuffed already, and it wasnât even fully in you just yet. âOh fuckâŠfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-â it all spills out you as Bob chuckles weakly, trying to keep himself together under the amount of pleasure he was feeling. He almost couldnât think straight with how tight you were around him. How perfectly your cunt sucked him in; like you were both designed for each other. âSo-so fuckinâ pretty when you swear-makinâ pretty noises for me.â he musters out before his hips finally react, finally slamming into you in a repeated fashion thatâs justâŠperfect.Â
A loud squeal left you, and his hand flies to your mouth as he keeps you quiet; clasping so hard around your jaw that the pain alone makes you cry out for him. Yet, it was overwhelmed by the feeling of him fucking you the way you were meant to be fucked. Your body jolts with each movement as cries spill out from the crevices of his hands. âMy sweet fuckinâ girlâŠâ he nearly growls, loving the way you were getting worked up for him; but also getting worked up over you himself. He moves his hand away from your mouth and kisses you softly; god, he had to be addicted to your lips.Â
You took this opportunity to express just how good he was making you feel. You knew others were going to hear you anyway. âGod-fuck you fit so well in me i-it-s just perfect for you!â your voice wavered, coated in pleasure, feeling him pick up the pace. âI fucking-love-it when you fuck me like this I deserve to get fucked out-â you cry, looking into his eyes.
He slows down, almost to get back at you for all the trouble you put him through earlier. âNever expected something so nasty to come out of those pretty lips of yoursâŠâ
âOh yeah? What are you gonna do about it, Sentry?â You challenged.Â
You could see his eyes bristle with power as he grabs you and flips you over, forcing your head down into a pillow and holding your hips up as he slams into you; not caring about how rough he was being. You scream with pleasure as your arms try to hold you up, but the pressure of taking him in this position forces your face back down on the pillow. You whine and swear and cry out, but itâs muffled underneath all the pillows. His grip on your thighs holds you in place; you couldâve almost collapsed with how bad your legs were shaking.Â
âYeah?â he grunted. âThatâs what I'm gonna do.â He murmured hoarsely, trying to keep his control for just a second longer so he could enjoy you, but heâs been close to cuming the minute you put your hands on him. He grabs your hair and pulls your head up; forcing you to take his cock deeper and deeper as he tries to whisper in your ear; âshut you up, sweetheart.â he declared as he let you flop back onto the pillow. He stops thinking about being gentlemanly, and more about how to make you cum for him a second time. He could fuck you for hours until you came if it came down to it.Â
Your screams and cries and coherent thoughts turned into a jumbled up pile of words, as you drooled onto the pillow; hair sticking to your face as Bob continued to unapologetically thrust against your cervix. It didnât matter how nervous he was at the beginning, you had him right where you wanted him; helplessly plunging into you and whimpering with each jab. Feeling him rub against your clit with the speed he was going was sending you into a frenzy, causing your thighs to tremble more and more. âWhat was that, sweetheart?â he slightly smirked as more and more of your muddled moans sept through the fabric of the pillow.Â
âYouâŠyesâŠfuckâŠsoâŠgood.â you cried out aimlessly.Â
Bobâs breath shook as he sped up. âSweet, dumb, thing.â he groaned with each lunge into your cunt. âGoodâŠhandsomeâŠboyâŠfuck!!â you whimpered out as Bob felt his stomach churn with excitement. He didnât care to slow down, the last thing he wanted was to ruin the moment just to catch his breath. Why do that, when he can finally release the tension heâs felt since laying eyes on you? He groans at the idea of cuming in you, filling you up and making you his. God, he wanted you to be his so badly. He doubted it, but he wanted you every day of the week.Â
Sooner rather than later, he felt his own thighs shake. His hands climbed from your hips to your waist, pulling you deeper and closer as he groaned loudly. âHoly fuckâŠâ you felt his cock seize inside of you, twitching every time you squeeze your walls around his member, and every time you did, heâd suck his breath and try to move. He couldnât take it anymore, he quickly pulled out and pressed his tip against your raw and sensitive clit. He came on your clit, watching his semen roll down your cunt and veer off onto your inner thighs as your hips finally lower themselves.
Bob flops onto the bed and tries to catch his breath. His eyes still glowing as he huffs out in exhaustion, he looks over at you and smiles weakly. âYou lookâŠso cute when youâre tired.â he joked lightly.
You face him, blowing a piece of hair away from your face and blushing at the thought of Bob being one of the only people whoâs ever seen you this tired. You kept to yourself up until now, and now knowing that someone has seen you all dazed and fucked out turned from an insecurity to something to be celebrated. You reciprocate the same smile. âWellâŠitâs not every day I get dicked down by someone I was supposed toâŠâ you cringe at the thought of why you came here earlier. âSo..this team youâre a part ofâŠâ
âThe Thunderbolts?â
You nodded. âTheyâŠdidnât judge you? Like, at all?â
Bob stops for a second, then shakes his head. âNoâŠyou donât even have to fight, Y/N, I justâŠdonât want Valentina to hurt you the way sheâs hurt me or the others. No one deserves to feel that alone.â he looks into her eyes. âYou have something that canâŠchange the world. You always took care of Valentinaâs problems, always took care of her. But..who takes care of you?â he asked with genuine concern.Â
He was right. No one did. But maybe here there could be companionship, support, trust, everything you ran away from before Valentina, because you thought it was no help to you; and only got worse with Valentina sending you on pointless missions. Maybe you were done being under her thumb just like how Bob was, and the others were as well. Maybe it was time for you to forge your own pathâtalk about some serious post-nut clarity, but at least you have it now and not down the line when it eventually gets worse. If you wanted there to finally be someone who cared for youâŠwhy not have it be Bob? If he wanted to hurt you, he would have already.Â
Your eyes stay on his, as his hand slithered to yours; no ominous black shadows included, or horrible memories that already plagued your mind; just a true alliance, an unadulterated connection (despite how smudged your makeup is and how red Bob was) and all the mess that came with it. âWhat do you say, Cupidâs girl?â and with a soft breath, you nod, giving him a resounding yes. He nearly leans in to kiss you, but you stop him. He pulls away and raises an eyebrow. âWhat? Weâre team members now so we canât kiss?â he asked, but you shake your head. He furrowed his eyebrows. âThen what is it?â
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JASON TODD WHO WHIMPERS AND MAKES A HELL LOT OF NOISE LIKE A TOTAL SLUT!! and he doesn't even gaf because he knows it turns reader on!!
okay but listen!!!!! he doesn't at first!!
the first month or so after you two start having sex he's not very vocal. he'll grunt and groan, a little dirty talk, but nothing crazy. nothing outside of the "norm", you know what i mean? he doesn't want to freak you out. he's still surprised you haven't run after finding out about red hood, he's not going to ruin this
but one night he's super vulnerable. he's come home from a patrol that completely kicked his ass, wiped him out, and all he needs right now is you
you'd think he'd be rough about it, letting his frustrations of a bust gone south out on you, but he doesn't. instead, tonight he's reminded of how easily he would be taken out on one of his patrols. how a punch too hard to the head, or a stab wound too deep, would keep him from coming home to you
so this time he's emotional. he's pouring his entire soul into each deep thrust. every single languid drag of his cock through you is laced with devotion. you can feel it in the way he noses your temple, the sweat beading down his jaw, the watery tears that fall against your hairline that he'll later deny
and you definitely hear it in the way he whimpers for you. it's quiet at first. so quiet that you almost don't hear it in the quiet of the room, barely audible over the sound of your own breathy moans and pitched mewls. but then it happens again. and again. and again
and then each snap of his hips is accompanied by a whimper. in the moment there's no way jason can control himself enough to keep his mouth shut like he normally does
then comes the babbling. the soft "you're perfect" which sounds so achingly worshipful as the familiar praise falls from his lips that it sounds brand new to you. "god, you're perfect, perfect, perfect" a sniffle. and then "i love you so fucking much"
and after that jason doesn't hold back anymore. not when he's stripped himself bare. torn down the walls of anger and betrayal and desperation that run deep through his very being, full of thorns and acid and barbs. not when he's laid his emotions and soul bare for you, the same way he does his body. and especially not when you've gently taken that fragile, shattered core of his, still tender and wounded, and craddled it with a kiss to his jaw and a "i love you too, jay"
that's when jason stops holding back. that's when he lets his whimpers tangle with your own, the way your limbs tangle together in the sheets
bro what happened to the bob reynolds x reader tag i felt like it used to be popping like i could check each day and there was a bunch of new fics now i scroll on that tag and its like 5 new posts over the course of two weeks Did everyone just move on from him bc im still here
you were riding him, first time without a condom, Jason was making the prettiest moans as you could feel his cock filling you completely, his big hand usually going between your bodies to play with your puffy clit.
the moment you come closer to his ear and whisper "you can cum inside if you want to" he fucking loses it, pouding into you harder, merciless, your hand trying to find something to grab on catched his shoulder and digged your nails into it.
"don't say that, baby, I might-" he whined.
"do it, jay, want you to cum inside" Jason covered his mouth as he came all the way inside of you, filling you up so good.
he wanted to stay at least 5 minutes resting, still with his cock inside of you, but it seemed like you had other plans, starting to move again, he slapped your ass and grabbed your hips into place. "don't fucking move" but when he freed your hips you moved again, trying to get some friction again.
Jason grabbed you by your legs and made you lay on your back. "so fucking greedy" he groaned, sitting between your legs, pushing two of his big fingers inside of your abused cunt, feeling his finger tip so deep inside of you, making you moan like a bitch in heat.
"Jay-!" before you could say anything, he stuffed his fingers in your mouth, coated in his cum and forcing you to lick them clean.
"open wider" and when you did his fingers hit the back of your throat, making you kick his chest for him to take them out.
"can't take my fingers? how're you going to take my cock?"
assistance (requested! + nsfw)
jason todd x fem!reader
mentions: 1k event, friends to lovers, jason having a crush on reader, riding, protected p in v, praises, words of encouragement, pet names, slight friend-zoning idk, blah blah, will add more later its almost midnight help
(we got three drinks left oh fuck i rlly locked in for this event LMAOAO i had this planned out in my head for a week so this was ez pz to write)
three years, thats how long jason todd has had a crush on you
it felt wrong, considering that you were one of his closest friends heâs ever had. but at the same time, it was pathetic, knowing that itâs been going on for three years
jason canât remember when or how he fell in love with you, but his best bet was ever since heâs laid eyes on you. it wasnât just your beauty that always made jason almost sigh dreamily; it was everything. from your eyes to the way your nose scrunches when you laugh, it was enough for jason to know that he fell hard for you
so when you went to him and expressed your nervousness about your upcoming date and how it's been a while since youâve had sex, jason decided to be of some assistance
and that meant having you on top of his lap with his cock deeply snug in you and his hands on your waist
been a while, my ass. your pussy was taking him better than he could imagine â literallyâ that jason had to remind himself that this wasn't a dream, that you really were on top of him, that soft moans of his name were leaving your lips, that your warm body was making contact with his, that it was your gummy walls clenching around him instead of his hand
âuh huh, just-- â jason let out a moan from the slight arch of your backâ exactly what he was gonna point out. his lips were slightly parted and his eyes were glued to how your boobs slightly bounced from each thrust of your hips.Â
and your wallsâ god, they molded perfectly around his cock, taking his size in and pulsing around him that made him convinced you were going to squeeze the life out of him
âfuuuuck youâre a natural at this.â thank god jason had a condom on him or otherwise heâd cum way sooner
his words entered and left your ears, focusing more on his cock that was stuffing you so full instead. jason was by far the biggest youâve ever had, stretching your pussy out so good it made you wonder how better it would have felt if he went in raw. god, you wouldnât believe that the best dick youâve ever gotten was from your best friendÂ
âj-jayâ shitâ you tried to get words out, but it was impossible to when jason was balls deep in you, his touch not missing every part of your bodyâ and his warmth was driving you insane
âtakinâ it like a champ, sweetheartâ the pet name rolled with ease in jasonâs tongue but both of you were too dazed out to care as he continued letting out murmurs mixed with moans
âuh huh, keep your paceâ
âspread your legs a little moreâ
âjuuuust like thatâ shitâ
poor man forgot that he was supposed to be helping you, not just drilling his cock so deep in your pussy that it was making both him and you breathless.Â
jasonâs cock started to twitch in the condom, his breath getting shallower. his hands slid from your waist to your ass, squeezing your cheeks before taking charge and slamming your hips more onto his.Â
that made a startled gasp leave your lips before a moan trailed out. he was thrusting his cock deeper than he already was, feeling the tip repeatedly abuse your cervixÂ
âf-fuck jayâ oh my god jasonâ you gasped, burying your face into the crook of his neck as your hands gripped onto his shoulders for dear life, that all too familiar feeling slowly building up in youÂ
âi know baby, i knowâ jason panted, lifting up his hips for a deeper angle. âi have you, justâ fuck â let go for me.â mentally, he was praying to god he didnât cum before you because at this rate, he was about to
this was risky, fucking each other with the label of âfriendsâ hanging over both your heads. was this going to change the outcome of your relationship? yes, but could you two give a flying fuck about it? fuck noÂ
and that knot finally snapped, a whine leaving your lips before your orgasm soon washed out all over jasonâs cock. small murmurs of his name kept leaving your lips, euphoria at your sight from how life-changing that orgasm was
that was enough for jason to soon join you, his grip on your ass slowing down along with his thrusts before letting out a moan, feeling the thick loads of his cum slowly fill up the condom. oh how he would have given to fill you upÂ
soon, he came to a complete stop and slowly pulled out of you with a grunt. you slowly pulled your face from his neck, both of you panting and looking at each other with those blown-out eyes that felt the buzz travel around their bodiesÂ
âcancel itâ jason panted, and that made you blink. but before you could answer after catching your breath, he was already continuing. âcancel the date and block the bastardâ
âhuh?â was the only thing you were able to say, your brain still a little fuzzy. jasonâs hands slipped back up to your waist and smoothly moved you, making you let out a startled yelp of his name
now, it was jason that was on top and you under him. and before you could ask him what he was doing, his lips silenced yours, the kiss slow yet passionate. one hand moved to hook your thigh to his hip while the other moved to rest on your hip
ânot badâ jason murmured in the kiss before slowly breaking it and resting his forehead on yours, already lining himself back in again. âbut thereâs still more work to be doneâ
(a/n: THANK YOU SM FOR 1.5K?? WHAT???? im literally almost done with my 1k event and now i gotta prepare for another one LMAOAOA ily all smsmsmsmsms <3333)
thinking ab being in an on and off relationship with jason todd . . . . . smut . he cums quick cs heâs a loser in love .
the unspoken boundaries are pretty clear, heâs not yours and youâre not technically his but every time you two cross paths it always begins again the same way with a nasty makeout next to his bike while the darkness of east river rushes on and his hands are palming your ass, then a shabby little date and hours spent catching up on nothing at all. it always ends the same way, with plans that he doesnât show for, excuses that donât quite add up and arguing over the phone like this is highschool.
but the thing about jason is he just doesnât quit. he canât quit you. so when he confesses to dick that he hasnât slept with anyone in months, he literally laughs in jasonâs face. because thereâs no way?
that admission comes back to bite him in the ass when he finally gets you alone again. when it starts all over and itâs hot and heavy and heâs got you under him, cock pushing into your slick gummy walls with twitching pulses. heâs begging himself not to cum because he swears to god his cock has never been this fucking swollen or sensitive before, and if he even were to actually admit it, he just couldnât fathom the idea of fucking anyone else.
âmissed you... fuckââ he stutters out, sweat dripping off his chest and onto yours where he has you folded beneath him, scarred arms flexing with the effort of rearing his hips into yours. âmissed this pussy, doll.â
âyeah, i donât doubt that.â you let out a guttural moan over his confession. all attitude dies in your throat when his head falls to your stomach, a hot pink tongue slipping out to lick the sweat from your body, and up, up, up, it goes, latching onto one of your aching nipples.
âi swear, youâre gonna make me cum already...â he moans like heâs been shot. âwhat... what the fuck are you doinâ to me?â
your thighs shake and you tense up tight, toes curling and legs locking as he yanks you open onto him, burying himself impossibly deeper in missionary. âfuck, fuck, fuckâ jay!â you squeal, hurdling towards ecstasy. âfuck me harder.â
not even five minutes in and he has you stupid. the benefits of getting back together, sorta.
jason grins wickedly. âuh huh, you want that? wanna make a fuckinâ mess, doll?â you canât even speak. âshow me how you look when your manâs fucking you... yeah?â your abdomen is coiled tight and the sound of your pussy squelching open and molding to him is obscene.
his name leaves your mouth in a scream and his weight presses you down immediately. âso good, baby, keep squeezing it like that... fuuuuck!â
you expect him to maybe change positions again, to be mean and pull out, maybe toy with your swollen pussy untile youâre begging like he always does, but no, in the middle of a drawn out moan singing from your lips you feel a splash of heat.
then, jason heaves like a wounded animal, hugging your body impossibly tight to his.
neither of you speak for several seconds.
âdid you just fucking cumââ ânot a word about it.â comes simultaneously.
âoh my god,â you howl with laughter. âa minute man.â
âhey!â he eases off you a little bit to argue. âthat was several minutes. several good minutesââ
he huffs when you kiss his jaw, his fingers finding your hair in soft strokes. âwerenât joking when you said you missed me, then?â
âlaugh it up, peanut gallery.â jason grumbles. but he smiles, you see it. he feels throughly humiliated, of course, but he canât really find it in him to care. âi missed you, yeah, happy now? might as well put a lock and key on it, only does this shit for you anyway.â
you graciously bite back any sliver of tease you have left in you. well, barely. âitâs mine?â you whisper.
his eyes nearly glaze over when he nods, and you can feel the twitch in his muscles, hear the way his voice goes a little higher. âalways been. always yours.â your arms wrap around him and he kisses you slow and sweet, then sloppy, but unhurried, just needy. âmâ yours.â
âdo you wanna...â you grin, with a playful shrug and he scoffs right in your face.
âyeah, way to ruin the moment, sexcrates,â he lifts himself off you and you giggle helplessly. in your fit of amusement, he takes you by the ankles and hauls you down the bed, prying your legs open and wasting no time.
âjay! what are you...â but he only looks up and you and clicks his tongue.
âwhat? iâve gotta even the score,â he says, licking a fat stripe over the length of your used pussy. immediately, you shudder and he laughs, the fucker laughs. âcause we both know none of those scrubs youâve been with take care of her like me.â
you weep as he eats you, if you can even call it that because hes suckling at your clit, parting your folds with his fingers and fucking his tongue into your hole. âsay it,â he coos.
âjay, please!â you writhe against his mouth and he groans, easing a finger in and then a second, stretching you open and pushing you higher, so high youâre scared of how fast youâre about to cum. heâs the devil, you think.
âcâmon, say it,â his lips are swollen pink and starving. âyou can do it, tell me.â
your back arches harshly as you cry, âitâs yoursâ fuck, itâs yours, only yours!â
jason todd, the guy youâre not with but are so with, lets out a shrill moan, his hips bucking into the mattress where his cock weeps pre at the slit. when you sieze and cum for him, all the breath in your body leaving you, he doesnât even let you rest.
instead, he kisses your sensitive bud while you shiver from the overuse, the heel of his palm grinding down and smearing your slick.
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j.todd x f!reader- After a rough night of patrol, Jason comes across a blind woman who's walking home and befriends her.
notes: just some fluff, based on veil manga by kotteri
The first fall of snow in Gotham City was always so beguiling, at least to Jason Todd; by the next day, the streets would always be filled with snow salt and sludge. But the first snowfall was picturesque, similar to a scene that Jason would read out of his favorite novel. It reminded the man of simpler days, where heâd spend his days at Wayne Manor having snowball fights with his older brother Dick, afterwards going inside to curl up by the fireplace and read.
Nowadays, snow days arenât as magical as they used to be. Instead of laughter and warmth, Jason was met with the blood-stained streets and the bitter cold pricking at his skin. He also figured that as you grew up and started to see the horrors of life, that sort of magic disappeared (and believe it, Jason has had his fair share of horrors in life).Â
Tonight wasnât different than any other night; there was the smell of weed enveloping a group of hooded men near the corner store deli, the sounds of screams piercing through the night, and the coppery tang left in Red Hoodâs mouth when he swiped his tongue over the cut on his busted lip.
He looked down at the crook who was trying to sell some illegal substances to teenagers earlier, now with a mangled face and busted up ribs (courtesy of Red Hood himself). The bastard thought itâd be a bright idea to try to get a couple of hits on Red Hood, and although he held up a pretty good fight, Jason basically bashed him into the ground.Â
âP-please, Mr. Red Hood, I was just trying to make some money.â the crook begged, trying to get up. The manâs eyes screamed for mercy, and Jason couldnât help but think how pathetic he looked. That man knew what he was doing when he sold those drugs to the kid, and Jason made him pay the price. Â
âStay down,â Red Hoodâs modulated voice came out threateningly as he put his boot over the manâs torso and began to slowly apply pressure to his chest. The crook began to wheeze, and Jason heard a crack coming from the manâs ribs. A shriek pierced the night, but they both knew that one would come to rescue him. Jason pulled his foot back, and the man had seemingly relaxed, letting out a sigh of relief. He coughed up some blood and he gave a little smirk at Jason, his smile stained with red. âOh, thank fuck, man. I really thought I was a gonerâ what are you doing?â
The crook watched as the Red Hood took out a handgun from his thigh holster and pointed it to him, the fear he had only a few seconds ago settling back in. Jason, on the other hand, was smirking inside the helmet. He stepped closer, the sound of his boots echoing in the alleyway, until he loomed over the bastard and held the gun to his chest before pulling the trigger.Â
Red Hood wasnât one for pleasantries; once he found his target, he never hesitated to put a bullet through them.Â
The manâs screams were swallowed by the sound of the gunshot ringing through the air, and the cold breath had stopped coming out of his mouth. Red Hood could see the blood spilling out of the manâs upper torso and onto the cement, where the red had stained the beautiful white snow from the previous night. He smirked to himself in satisfaction, knowing that the bastard got what he deserved and that the children were safe from those dangerous drugs. He couldnât bear to see any of these promising young kids become just like his mother; battling with addiction while making empty promises to the people you loved. He looked over the scene one last time before getting his grappling hook, throwing it to the nearest ledge and soaring upward to the Gotham night.
Some nights heâd be working alongside Nightwing or Red Robin or Batgirl, but for the most part, Jason was alone. He was told often that he was bad at communication with his fellow vigilantes, and his ideologies werenât exactly similar to the Batmanâs.
But it wasnât like he minded being alone. In between his familial affairs and his job at the fire department, there was just too much in his brain throughout the day, but the serenity of night allowed for Jason to be alone with his thoughts.Â
He landed near Broad Street, in the alleyway next to a coffee shop he often frequented with his friend Roy. He slumped against the wall, trying to catch his breath before he could continue to grapple. Just a few more blocks, and heâll be back at his place, where he could spend the rest of the night indulging in classic literature and drinking hibiscus tea.Â
When he looked around to spot anyone watching him, he didnât expect to see a young woman walking the streets at this hour. The first thing Jason noticed was the beautiful clothing she wore; a red pea coat and a pair of designer heels heâd seen Steph wear once. It was something so simple, yet the woman made it look so elegant with how she walked so gracefully.Â
Jasonâs eyes narrowed when he saw the cane in her hand, curious as to why a blind woman was out so late at night when it was so dangerous. Before he could wonder any further, Jason noticed that something fell out of her pockets, and he straightened up and walked outside of the alleyway to pick it up.
It was a light blue handkerchief, neatly folded and clean, but now smudged with a little grease that was on the sidewalk. He carefully walked up to the woman, making sure not to startle her, and turned off his voice modulator to sound less like a threat. âExcuse me, maâam?â
You turned around, looking up at him with a curious expression. He noticed immediately how you clutched your purse and reached for something in your pocket (perhaps pepper spray?). âYes?â
Your voice was soft and melodious, unlike the usual booming voices that cut into the Gotham atmosphere like a looming threat. You didnât belong here, and no less in a place like the Bowery. Jason nodded, âYeah, uh, you dropped your handkerchief.â
He held it out near your hands, and you took it, brushing your fingers against his palm. You held the handkerchief close to your chest before smiling, âThank you. What are you doing here so late at night, may I ask? Are you a policeman?â
Jason chuckled at the thought of being a part of the police force. He had little respect for the GCPD, seeing that their methods of enforcement were often ineffective and did not help the crime rate in this city go down. âYeah, somethinâ like that. You know, you shouldnât be out this late either. Whatâs got you strollinâ around here so casually at this hour?â
âWell, Mr. Policeman,â You began, and Jason felt the corner of his mouth tug slightly upward at your nickname. âIf you must insist on knowing, I work at a clothing shop here.â
You pointed past his shoulder, and he turned around to see a small clothing shop nestled between his favorite coffee shop and a tattoo parlor. He raised an eyebrow, âThe Nifty Thrifter, huh?â
âYes. Itâs a really silly name, donât you think? Thatâs what I told my coworker, but she wouldnât listen to me. It isnât even a thrift shop. Most of the clothing are designs of mine from a couple of years ago, so it should really be more of a boutique.â
Jason looked down at you, noticing how your face turned into a pout when you began to criticize the shopâs name. It was cute. âYeah, itâs a little ridiculous, alright. Whereâs your coworker anyway?â
âOh, sheâs long gone if you wanted to catch her.â Jasonâs brows furrowed when he saw you clutch at your jacket as a breeze came in. âSheâs a mother and wife, so sheâs gotta leave earlier to pick up the kids and all that. Itâs my responsibility to close up shop.â
âShe leaves you to close up shop alone?â Jason asked, his voice a little sharper. It was an irresponsible decision on your coworkers' part; having you close up shop and walk home alone this late at night.Â
You furrowed your brows, lifting your chin a little higher. âIâm perfectly capable of closing up shop myself, if thatâs what youâre sounding so doubtful aboutâ
âNo, sweetheart, thatâs not what I was worried about.â Jason shakes his head. âI just donât think itâs very safe for you to be out late at night in this area especially. You donât have anyone to drive you home? No friends or family or anythingâ
You paused at the manâs question. You didnât go out much besides for work, so you didnât have many friends. Since moving here, you havenât had any friends, really. Your family was out of the question; you could never go back to your home. âNo, I donât have anyone.â
Jason saw the way you were lost in thought for a second before answering, and he found himself wondering what had happened to your family or what would make your friends so busy to not even pick you up from work. He stepped closer to you, and you felt the heat emanating in his body. âCan I walk you home? I mean, if thatâs alright with you.â
âI would appreciate that, thank you.â You held out your hand for him to take it. Jason stood there for a second, not really sure on why he was hesitating. It felt wrong to have his blood stained gloved hands intertwined with your soft, manicured ones. You chuckled, âDonât be so afraid, Mr. Policeman. I donât bite.â
Jason smiled at that before taking your hand in his. Your hands were freezing cold, and he couldnât help but hold your hand a bit tighter. âItâs just Jason, sweetheart.â
âJason it is,â You mused, telling him your name and where you lived. âWe must hurry, though. I donât want to miss the new episode of this new soap opera. Oh, I must explain it to you.â
âIâm all ears,â Jason said as he led you further down the block.
As Jason listened to you ramble on about love triangles and cancer diagnoses, he found himself smirking softly. It was true that he wasnât expecting to cross paths with anyone tonight, but as soon as he gave you that handkerchief, he couldnât help but feel drawn to your presence like a moth to a flame. He supposed his hibiscus tea and Madame Bovary could wait an hour; there were bigger problems at hand now, and she was probably the most endearing problem Jasonâs ever come across.
a/n (not edited!): I'm so excited for this. Since Veil is basically a series of blurbs, I would continue writing some random blurbs about Jason and Reader. I also didn't want to make the Reader exactly like Emma, so I based more of her fashion sense to a bit more modern times (since I think Veil is more 20th century based), so she's 'modeled' after Nanny Fine from the Nanny.
Also the title is based on Harry Styles' song. I just always thought it reminded me of Aleksander and Emma :)
đč synopsis: after being dragged into a party by Dick, Jason doesnât expect to fall in love with a very loud and unashamed woman
đč tags: kinda loser! jason???, dick and jason being brothers, jason is a lil insecure, inspired by the outrageous woman trend, the intro to âLosing Youâ by Solange, âGirlfriendâ by hemlocke springs and the song âIâm every womanâ by chaka khan, reader with tan skin and brown eyes, reader makes threesome joke about Dick, ooc jason lowkey
A/N: this is more of a lazy fic if iâm being honest but this was also just an impulse and very much just me being inspired by all the women around the world. also sorry for late update, school is kicking my, very fat, ass
He first ran into you at this underground party, you know the type: dim red lights, house music blasting, and everyone standing around with drinks in hand.
He wasn't exactly keen on going; he thought those parties were a complete waste of time, but Dick had other ideas.
âYouâre such a bum,â Jason complained as his older brother's voice came through. He lifted his eyes just as Dick squeezed through his window.
âYou do realize I have a door, right?â he shot back, adjusting the book in his lap, not really in the mood for Dick's antics.
âAre you seriously reading on a Friday night?â Dick huffed, brushing off his shirt as he got closer.
âYeah? What about it?â
âDude, you really need to get a life,â Dick teased, running his fingers through his perfectly styled hair. He gestured to the couch for Jason to make room, and Jason rolled his eyes but went along with it.
âYouâre telling me to get a life while youâre here bugging me?â Jason raised an eyebrow, reluctantly closing his book and giving Dick a light shove with it. Dick just chuckled.
âOkay, lookââ he settled onto the couch, leaning back with his hand on the backrest. âThereâs a party tonight at 11. Iâm picking you up.â
âAbsolutely notââ
âDon't care, youâre going. No debate.â
So there he was, a towering 6'3 man packed with muscle, doing his best to blend in like a fly on the wall while everyone else was dancing around him.
When he first walked in, Jason expected the first thing he'd hear was music, maybe a little bantering from the people closest to the door, or even the sound of people's feet shuffling against the floor.
But no, nothing, absolutely nothing could've prepared Jason for your laugh. It was the first thing he heard, so loud and free it made him pause in place momentarily.
"Didn't know there was a clown on the guest list," Dick had joked as a laugh bubbled in his chest, nudging Jason further inside.
"Don't say that, you know I don't like clowns," Jason said sarcastically with a grimace as he found himself a little corner near the door and stayed there. Dick was still walking when he realized Jason wasn't following anymore. Arching his brow, he turned around and sighed deeply.
"Are you just going to stay glued to the wall?"
"Yup."
"You sound like Big McIntosh, c'mon," he said as he waved at him to hurry up, but Jason simply shook his head.
Dick sighed heavily once again, one hand rubbing his side temple.
"Alright man, look, I'll leave with your wall if you promise to at least socialize with one person," he said, his tone suddenly changing to a softer one. He held Jason's gaze until the youngest one huffed and rolled his eyes.
"Fine, but I'm not exceeding my minimum," he said reluctantly, which gained a seemingly pleased nod from Dick before he blended in with the crowd, leaving Jason alone with his wall and the people around him.
Barely ten minutes had passed, and Jason was already feeling annoyed. The smell of sweat hung in the air, the loud music blasted close to his ears, and he couldnât shake the feeling of being watched.
âI need a beer,â he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets as he headed over to the bar, which was surprisingly empty. He settled onto a bar stool and called for the bartender, ordering a whole bottle of Modelo. He was going to need it.
Just then, he heard it, the little chime that had first captured his attention when he stepped inside. He fought the urge to look, even though temptation nagged at him. It was just a laugh; it shouldn't have stood out the way it did. He cast a quick glance around the room but quickly straightened, clearing his throat while his fingers tapped rhythmically on the table.
But then you laughed again, just as the bartender set the beer in front of him, and he couldnât help himself. He took a long swig, as if to drown his pride, and looked around again.
His breath caught in his throat. There you were, on the dance floor, your skin glowing bronze under the dim lights. The sparkly midi skirt you wore danced with your hips, and the bangles on your wrists jingled as you raised your hands in the air. Your hair swayed wildly as you shook your head side to side. Everything about you felt uniquely yours, from those one-of-a-kind kitten heels he knew you couldn't have found anywhere else but the bins, to the way you made your simple tank top look like it belonged on a runway.
You were stunning, and that was an understatement. Jason had never encountered anything like it, not even in his wildest dreams. Someone so carefree, so full of life and joy. The way you laughed with your friends, the way you moved and filled the space around you, the way you existed unapologetically. He felt his palms begin to sweat, the room suddenly feeling too warm.
With a shaky breath, he glanced down at his hands before roughly dragging them down the denim of his jeans. But there was something about you, something magnetic, that made his gaze linger. He kept stealing glances at you through his lashes, watching as you swayed your shoulders to make your chest move, dropping lower under the limbo pole while your friends cheered you on.
He lost track of how long he had been watching you, but it was long enough for your smile to seep into him. The apples of his cheeks began to ache; it was almost humiliating as he listened to your voice harmonizing with the lyrics of whatever song was playing.
He knew he should look away, but he didnât want to. Someone like you didn't belong in the same room as someone like him, yet he couldn't help but admire you shining under the sparkling light of the mirror ball. He bit his bottom lip softly as his leg bounced with anxiety; you stirred feelings in him he wasnât prepared for.
As he looked at you, his thoughts consumed by the symphony of your laughter ricocheting off the walls, he remained blissfully unaware of just how transparent he had become. It was only when one of your friends gently tapped your shoulder and leaned in to whisper that the realization struck him. His mind was too focused on thoughts of you to grasp the moment your friends murmured about him in hushed tones.
Your lips formed a soft pout, and your head turned sharply in confusion, eyes narrowing instinctively. Yet, you refrained from meeting his gaze, at least until one of your friends sighed dramatically and nudged your head in his direction. He could have sworn his heart hitched in its rhythm the instant your eyes met his, time seemed to decelerate, the surrounding clamor fading into a hazy dream.
His hands gripped the denim of his thighs, a feeble attempt to anchor himself to reality, before he hastily averted his gaze. He felt utterly unworthy of being the focus of your attention, unworthy of those exquisite chocolate eyes resting upon him. He didn't dare to look back, fixating instead on the back bar, his cheeks aflame with embarrassment while his fingers danced nervously in time with the pulsating beat in the background.
He bit his lip, his thoughts slowly unraveling like a tangled maze. He had just embarrassed himselfâhow could he have ever thought a woman like you would show even the slightest interest in him? You deserved better, much better than a man stained by his past, one burdened with anger and a thirst for revenge. A man whoâ
A light tap on his shoulder jolted him from his spiraling thoughts, and suddenly the fog began to clear. It was you.
You were smiling. Were you actually smiling at him? With a small giggle bubbling from your chest, you leaned against the bar table, your cheek resting in the palm of your hand as your eyes took him in. "Do you believe in love at first sight, or do I need to walk by again?" you asked, and his eyes widened just a fraction. Were you... flirting? Pretty badly, he might add?
"No, no, wait!" you said with a mischievous look, raising your palms as you stepped back with a spring in your step, disappearing into the crowd, leaving him baffled, though not for long. You returned just as quickly, positioning yourself in front of him with your hand on your waist. "So? Do you believe in it now?" you asked, a cheeky smile lighting up your face.
He stared at you in slight awe and confusion. Why were you even speaking to him right now? With your eyes so kind and your demeanor so bright and patient? He took a heavy breath before answering, "Um... yeah, kinda," he admitted with a shy smile that landed more awkwardly than anything. He regretted it instantly, but you just giggled and slid into the chair beside him.
Now, he noticed your features up close: the small freckles dusting your cheeks, barely visible beneath your light foundation, the faint smudge of mascara from the heat, and the way your lips danced with every word.
"You know staring is rude, right?" you broke through his thoughts yet again.He shook his head, trying to shake loose the thoughts of you.
"Oh no, yeah, Iâm sorry," he stammered, his gaze drifting from your lips back to your eyes.
You let out a soft laugh, adjusting your position to face him. "You're so cute, I like you," you said with a radiant smile that nearly sent his mind spiraling. You liked him? Him? Out of everyone in this bar?
"You're a bit quiet, but that's okay because I usually am not. Anyway... honestly, I'm really glad I spotted you and found an empty chair next to you. My feet are killing me. I donât even know how long Iâve been dancing, but I promise Iâm about done," you rambled.
He observed your little quirks: the way you talked without checking if he was listening, how your hands animated your words, and the expressions that colored your face with every emotion you conveyed. A smile crept onto his lips without him realizing it; there was something about you that made his bad thoughts fade away.
"I really need a drink and a pair of flats. I'm so terrible at wearing heels, I don't know why I keep trying," you giggled to yourself while glancing over at him. "These are just kitten heels though," you said, lifting your leg playfully into the air. The sudden movement surprised him, but you didn't seem to mind as you set your foot back down. "At least they're cute, that's like their only pro. Anyway, can you believe I got them for only thirty bucks?" You shook head. "I sure couldn't, especially in this economy! I snatched them before one of those depop resellers could."
He looked surprised for a moment, caught off guard by the sheer number of topics you could discuss. In fact, he was a bit stunned that you were even sitting next to him at all.
"I...umâ" he stumbled over his words as the music began to change. Just then, you cut in with excitement.
"Oh my goodness! This is my favorite song!" you exclaimed, your eyes lighting up as you dashed away to the dance floor, completely forgetting about the complaints you had just made about your aching feet. He was left with the words in his mouth, his heart raced, and his mind utterly clouded. He was definitely whipped, that much was clear.
Taking a deep breath, he tried to comprehend the fact that someone like you might actually have the slightest interest in him. It seemed as if you had given him a seed for a fresh start, a chance he wasnât sure he deserved. Every time he saw you, he saw a glimpse of a possibility of something good, something normal. And deep down, he couldnât help but want to be selfish and grasp that chance.
"Don't be so boring," a groan interrupted his thoughts as a hand pulled him upwards. You guided him, hands clasped together, through the crowd to the dance floor. His breath hitched as he observed the way your hips swayed with each step, how your hands deftly cleared a path among the shifting bodies. He mumbled soft apologies to those who turned to look but didn't truly mean them.
Once on the dance floor, you quickly found your rhythm, your body moving effortlessly to the beat, accustomed to the familiar sounds and the curious eyes around you. Yet, you caught the nervous glint in his gaze, the way he swallowed hard each time he realized he was staring too long. You rolled your eyes, what a dork.
His hands balled into fists at his sides, caught between uncertainty and desire as you leaned back against him. Your warmth seeped through his flimsy shirt, stirring thoughts he struggled to suppress: thoughts of tracing a finger along the softness of your skin, thoughts of you not recoiling in disgust. But when your hands guided his to your hips, he felt his resolve dissipate.
Right then and there, he saw it. With your excessive shimmering body glitter, sweet perfume, and off-tone notes, you embodied the thing he had always craved most in life. The dream he had clawed himself out of the dirt for and fought tirelessly to find: happiness. Joy.
He swallowed hard, his fingers tightening around the soft curves of your hips, eliciting a small gasp from you.
âSorry,â he mumbled, but you simply grinned, making his heart stutter. It was undeniableâhe wanted you, wanted everything you had to offer.
His breath was warm against your neck, his hands following the sway of your hips as they moved in time with the music. A smirk crept onto your lips; it was clear he was trying, really trying, and yet failing so adorably to keep up with your rhythm.
You giggled to yourself, glancing back at him over your shoulder. âHey, donât ya wanna?â you said, nodding toward the exit. His eyes widened with excitement.
âYes!â he exclaimed, quickly clearing his throat. His hands slowly slid off your hips, and he added, âI mean, yeah, um, yes, I would.â His gaze darted away from yours, a shy smile forming.
âCalm down, puppy,â you teased with a laugh, your feet already leading you toward the exit. He followed almost immediately, his tall figure looming behind you, hands clasped behind his back as he resisted the urge to wrap them around your waist.
âWhere the hell is he?â Dick grumbled as his boots echoed through the many levels of Gotham. He had called Jason a hundred times, and each one went straight to voicemail. He was almost convinced that Jason had slipped out of the party to do whatever ridiculous things Jason did.
âI swear to God...â he muttered, finally landing on the fire escape of the youngest. âCanât take him anywhere,â he sighed, sliding the window open and wriggling through until his feet hit the cold floor.
âI thought I reminded you that my door works perfectly well, Dick,â Jasonâs voice sliced through the quiet.
âHey! Iâve called you like five times! Did you really leave early?â Dick approached Jason, who had his back turned in the kitchen, making himself a cup of coffee. Dickâs eyes narrowed in the dim light, noting the small scratch marks scrawled across Jasonâs back.
âYo, am I imagining things or did you get into a fight with a cat?â he asked, and Jason turned around, frowning.
âWhat are you talking abââ
The sound of footsteps padding down the hallway caused both brothers to freeze, and Dick could have sworn he heard Jason mutter something under his breath.
Your figure emerged from the shadows, bare legs on display while the rest of you was cloaked in a shirt that was definitely Jasonâs.
âEy, one more life to the partayyy!â you exclaimed, waving your hands above your head as you stood beside Jason.
âI didnât know you were into threesomes,â you teased, shaking your head and making a small âtskâ sound. âItâs always the quiet ones, am I right?â you ventured, only to be met with silence.
âDamn, tough crowd.â
Jason cleared his throat. âUm...â he gestured toward Dick. âThis is Richard, heâs my brother, you could say,â he added, letting his hands drop to his sides.
Meanwhile, Dick was left speechless. His brother, his hoe-less brother, was standing there with a woman? To whom had Bruce prayed for this?
âOh shit, thatâs your brother?â you said with a smile, looking up at Jason before bursting into laughter. âOh, Iâm sorry! I didnât know!â You waved your hands in front of yourself, still giggling to yourself as both men stared at you.
Dick quietly stepped back, his hands raised in a playful gesture of mock surrender as he nodded toward the window while your laughter filled the apartment. Jason gave a brief nod, his lips pressed together. At least now Dick knew Jason would be busy for a while.
Once you finally paused, you sighed and wiped the tears from your eyes, looking up with a curious expression. "Oh? When did he leave?"
WARNINGS Â Â ÖŽÂ đ Â Û«Â piv. public sex. 1268 words. âș MINORS DNI Ś đ 18+ WORK
jason todd, who takes you to the alley out back of a seedy club during recon, solely so he can fuck you silly.
âyour dress is absurdly short, your tits and ass hardly contained by the skimpy fabric hugging your body. you look goodâhell; you look more than goodâso good that half the men in the shitty nightclub canât keep their eyes to themselves. more people have approached now than in your entire life, and jason is seething. his body constantly shifting to show youâre with him, yet it doesnât deter the men; they keep coming.
âfinally, jason canât take it; with a rough hand gripping your bicep, he all but drags you through the crowded club. before you even realize it, heâs got you out back in the darkened alley, the only light source coming from flickering light bulbs nearly on their last limb. jason is unconcerned, though; his darkened gaze locked on your stupidly beautiful smug face. âwas this part of your plan?â he grunts at you, his right hand dragging through his dark locks, attempting to calm himself; âyou wanted me riled up?â
ââi donât know what youâre talking about, jay,â you play coy, watching as that only seems to work up the mountain of a man in front of you. heâs clearly on edge. any sane person would back down; they wouldnât keep pushing his buttons. not you, though; you thrive on working jason until he snaps, watching how he tries so hard to keep calm but eventually succumbs to his emotions. itâs part of the reason he loves you so muchâyou know how to keep him on his toes even if itâs at his expense. âi canât help what other guys are doing.â
ââno, clearly not, but look at you.â his hand gestures up and down your scantily clad body. his fingers squeezing at his side, trying to keep from throwing caution to the wind. a fight heâs losing. his body practically vibrates in front of you, jeans feeling impossibly tight. âiâm so close to doinâ somethinâ stupid, baby.â
you tip your head at him playfully, your lips lift in a playful grin as your eyes run over the length of him. assessing how much longer he can take, evidently not much more of your teasing. you make a dramatic show of turning your head both ways, checking the alley, the same way you would before crossing the street. âno oneâs around, jay, so do it.â
âhe doesnât miss the taunting lilt of your voice, his gaze narrowing before he pounces. lips colliding aggressively into yours, the kiss nothing but teeth and tongue. hardened hands dragging across the expanse of your body, exploring your curves as if itâs the first time. he pulls away reluctantly, his words mumbled against your lips. âfuck, need you so bad right now.â
jason doesnât give you the chance to respondâhis lips are against yours again. he lets one of his hands drift lower over your thighs, the rough pads donât falter before pressing against your clothed core. he can feel the heat and dampness soaking through the thin lace, a groan ripping from his throat. his fingers shift under the material, dragging through your puffy folds like a man on a mission. his thumb circles your clit, middle and ring fingers sink into your sopping hole to the knuckle. âgonna work you open for me, sweetheart.â
you just offer a moan in response, hips pressing down against his hand pumping into you. his free hand yanks your dress up over your hips, allowing him a better view between your thighs. his head swivels slightly, making sure the coast is clear before his lips connect back against yours. tongues dancing together in a fight for dominance, one that jason easily wins as his tongue swirls against yours. his fingers between your thighs never once stop; instead, they speed up, working you to the edge. a groan falls from his swollen lips as he feels your walls clamp down on his fingersâyour release drenching his fingers as your hips writhe and squirm.
ââeasy, baby,â he huffs, helping work you through your orgasm, his stormy gaze locked on your fluttering lashes and pleasure-stricken face. he doesnât allow you to fully settle down before heâs turning you around, your cheek pressing into the cool jaggedness of the brick wall.
your stomach practically somersaults as you hear the familiar clank of his belt, which is then followed by the rustling of his zipper. jason shoves down his boxers just enough to free his leaking cock, the tip an angry red as it stands at attention. he pumps the thick length a few times before guiding it to your clenching entrance, his free hand moving to grip your hip as he lets the mushroom head tease through your dripping folds. âtell me to stop.â
âyou donât. your hips press back, trying to urge him to slide in, to fuck you the way you know he wants to. you let out a soft sound of impatience, shooting him an agitated look over your shoulder, and he finally takes the cue. his head swivels once more before turning back to the sight of you bent over in front of him, eyes locking in on the plush of your ass as he sinks to the hilt. neither of you able to fight the sounds of pleasure slipping from your lips, your walls stretching around him as his cock practically splits you in half.
ââfuckinâ christ,â jason husks from behind you, his fingers clutching your hips as he offers you a second of reprieve, letting you adjust to the thick length of him. it takes everything, every fiber of his being, to not just pound into you, but he knows heâs gotta be patient. he only starts moving when your hips grind back, a sharp, testing thrust just to feel your walls struggle around him. his hips jerk as your cunt practically milks his cock, eager for every drop.
ââfaster, jay,â you mewled into the brisk night air, your thighs quivering under your weight. a request he fulfills, his hips snapping into you quicker. his thumb finds your swollen bundle of nerves again, rubbing tight, firm circles against your clit. the man works you over until youâre teetering on the edge. he changes the angle of his hips, ensuring the tip of his cock brushes against your g-spot. the new angle sends bursts of white clouding your vision, your legs nearly buckling under your weight. jasonâs powerful hands are quick to steady you, keeping your body from collapsing against the wall. ââm gonna cum.â
âi know,â he grunts out, his stomach clenching as his thick length pulses in you. he keeps his hips angled to hit your sweet spot continuously, the feeling of your clenching walls enough to make his own mind cloud. both of you are on the cusp of release, the peak nearing rapidly for you both. the thumb rubbing circles against your clit speeds up, his rhythm grows sloppier yet stays punishing. your walls swallow jason whole, clamping down as your release rips through you.
âoh fuck.â his hips stutter as your cunt massaging his cock sends him toppling over the edgeâhis cock throbbing as thick, warm spurts of cum paint your walls white. his head drops, the heated skin of his forehead rests on your shoulder as short bursts of air fall from his lips. your own chest heaving as you wriggle, his cock twitching in you at your squirming. âhopefully no one heard your loud ass.â
a formidable foe (requested! + nsfw)
jason todd x assassin!reader
mentions: park of 1k event, fem!reader, is associated with the LoA, not specified on why shes on the run, deathstroke mentioned once, hero x villain trope, slight slowburn cause i got too ahead of myself, tensiooooon ofc, jason and reader having history (not specified), steamy make out session, missionary, unprotected p in v, creampie, praises, eye contact, jason will forever be a pussydrunk man for that cookie, cant get enough of your lips (the ones on your face lol), also has a big dick, body worshipping, sliiight begging
(normally id make it protected sex for this one but im ovulating so SO bad i need it raw so heres jason raw also ana read this before any of you LOOL thats my queen right there i dont play with her!!! )
the league of assassins was deemed a dangerous organization for a reason. they were ruthless, coordinated and most of all, had the utmost loyalty for the demonâs head. you were no different than any one of them, being one of the few assassins that raâs al ghul personally handpicked.
you obeyed orders without question-- killing potential threats to the organization, planning operations across the country, going undercoverâ because even though the league could survive without you, what were you without the league? youâve dedicated yourself to the organization as far as you can remember
yet even after all your years of service, here you wereâ stuck in gotham and on the run from them
you knew slade was behind this ever since he joined forces with raâsâ you and him were never on good terms and more on bad blood anywayâ but you never thought for a fact that heâd use his new army of assassins to go after you. just your luck
as for shelter, there werenât many options. the league safehouses were obviously not safe and you knew for a fact that all your safehouses were compromised. if you tried to leave the city or the country for that matter, the word would go right back to the league and right back to slade. so you went to the only place you could think of--or rather, someone
you quietly entered through the window, landing on the floor without a sound. but your senses were sharp, thanks to your time with the league. you pulled out your sword and turned to point it. âstill predictableâ you spoke
jason stepped forward, his gun at hand and pointed it towards you. âand youâre still dramatic as hellâ he responded, grip not faltering from the handle for a second
gun and sword, both pointed towards one another. both of you have done this for so long you knew the steps for each danceâ rooftops, alleyways, the clash of steel against gunfire, him trying to stop you and you slipping through his fingers like a ghost. every encounter ended the sameâ neither of you winning, neither of you walking away clean
âim not here for a fightâ you explained, the grip on your sword tightening with eyes narrowing. and despite your best efforts to hold a calm, sharp composure, jason still saw each crack in the armor you didnât even realize you were showing
god, you couldnât believe you were about to do this-- ask one of your sworn enemies for a place to stay. the words sat heavy on your tongue, unfamiliar in a way that made your chest tighten. at that point, you hoped an assassin would follow you and behead you immediately
ââŠi need a place to stay.â the words felt foreign, heavy, like they didnât belong in your mouthâ thatâs because to you, they didnât.
jason blinked once, deadpanned at your words. one, you never asked for help. two, you were asking him and three, you wanted to stay at his place.t hen, a short, humorless laugh left his lips. âyouâre kiddingâ
âiâm seriousâ
âyouâre a wanted criminalâ
âiâm awareâ
he stared at your eyes, seeing if you were hiding any malicious intent, but you werenâtâ and thatâs what made him know you werenât toying with him
ââŠyouâre seriousâ he murmured and you didnât answer right away. instead, you lowered your sword to prove to him that you werenât a threat, leaving jason the only person out of you two to hold his weapon high at you
âtheyâre hunting meâ you spoke quietly, jaw clenched from the fact that assassins â the same ones that you trainedâ from the league you gave your life for were now putting you as the target of a capture or kill mission
âthey?â
âthe leagueâ
âbullshit. the league doesnt turn on one anotherâ
âthey donâtâ you agreed, expression not changing. but something colder settled behind your eyes. ânot until sladeâ
well, that tracks. slade had a history of abuse of power, anyway. and jason didnât live under a rock to know about deathstroke and raâs al ghulâs recent partnership
silence stretched in between you too as jasonâs grip slightly faltered but not enough for him to still point at the gun. âyou didnât even try anywhere else, did you?â
and you didnât answer because he was right, you didnât. because despite everything thatâs ever happenedâ the fights, the opposing sides, the risk of death, the way he even looks at you right now like he doesnât know whether to trust you or arrest youâ heâs still jason. and some part of you never stopped believing that meant something
â..one weekâ he broke the silence with a decision wrapped in a murmur and that made you blink
âthatâs it?â
âthatâs already more than i should be offering, youâre lucky i owe youâ
âyou donât owe meâ
âyou took a blade for me in nanda parbatâ
the memory of you taking a blade for jasonâ after breaking into the organization for an undercover missionâ popped up in your mind. you remember that you were supposed to stop him, like you always did. but instead, you pushed him before an assassinâs blade could reach him and instead, reached you. to this day, you still wonder why you did that
the first three days were tense. you and jason kept on opposide sides of his apartment like magnets refusing to alignâ and it was easy since jasonâs apartment was massive.
jason patrols at night, you sharpen your swords and load up your weapons. he doesnât ask you why and you donât ask him where, but you both noticed things. he notices you check the exits every time you enter a room, you notice he still sleeps lightly with a gun under his pillow
but by day four, the silence was easierâ not comfortable, but familiar
âyouâre still telegraphing your right hookâ jason spoke casually, his eyes not leaving his book as you were busy sparring with a punching bag. you give the punching bag another punch before scoffing and giving a glance at jason. âi am notâ
âyou areâ
âam notâ
he looks at the page number to remember his progress before setting the book down with a sigh and getting up. âdo you want me to prove it?â and that made you smirk while taking your gloves off with your teeth, pulling the strap of one, and the other. then, when you finally took them off and tossed them on the floor, you looked at him. âprove itâ
and in less than ten seconds, he pins you up on the wall, catching your wrist midstrike while the other braced beside your head as your back hit the wall. but it wasnât from the sudden defeat that had you breathless, but the proximity
he was close, too close that if you breathed, youâd feel it against him. too close that if he gulped, you would hear it. too close that you could see the faint scar along his jaw and too close for your eyes tracking his like you were reading something he hadnât said yet
this wasnât the first time you and jason were this close to each otherâs faceâ you two fought and tried to defeat each other, for fuckâs sakeâ yet every time you were this close, no matter the situation, it felt like time stopped
your breath hitchedâ quiet, controlled but not controlled enough as jason felt it. and his eyes darted to your lips before trailing them up to meet your eyes
âyou gonna finish that move?â he murmured, voice low and rough around the edges. âor just stand there?â and that made you swallow. you should moveâ twist your wrist, pivot, knock his balance out from under him, end it like you always doâ clean, efficient, distant. but your body didnât listen, it never did when it came with him. that must be the reason why you came to his place
â⊠youâre off your centerâ you responded with a mutter instead, deflecting. âleft sideâs openâ
âthen take the shotâ
you didnât. instead, your hand curled into a small fist in his grasp and your eyes darted down to his lipsâ and that was it, that was the mistake. because jason noticed the second your focus dropped, he always did. thatâs why he was such a formidable opponent.
but now, he didnât feel like an opponent
your breath hitched again, but sharper this time and his eyes flickered back from your lips to your eyesâ searching, questioning, waiting for any sign that you didnât want this. but instead of pulling away or doing anything rational to get yourself off from this situation, you just looked at him with eyes that gave him his answer
like magnets, you two avoided each other. yet like magnets, you two slowly leaned in and just like thatâ a connection was formed by the distance your lips closed.
the years of tension now snapped all at onceâ every right, every near-miss, every moment of standing too close and pretending it meant anythingâ it all crashed the moment your lips were on one another
you didnât push him, nor did you stop him. and that was all the answer he needed. because the moment jason got a taste of your lips, he felt addicted
his hand that was resting on the back of your head slowly slid from the wall to your jaw, tilting your head to get more of your lips as your back pressed further into the wall. and your fingers curled slightly against his wrist as a response, slowly melting into his lips
the kiss wasnât soft at first. it wasnât careful or slowâ it was inevitable
just as quickly as it started, you pulled back not far but just enough to breathe, foreheads almost touching and breaths still tangled. then, it started to creep inâ you just kissed red hood, and you liked it
â⊠that was a mistakeâ you said, but your voice lacked the conviction it usually. jason didnât move away, nor did he let go. instead, he looked at you with a gaze youâve never seen from him-- unarmored
âyeahâ he murmured quietly, lips still slightly parted, the feeling of your lips still buzzing. and thatâthat had you. fuck it, time to take that shot he was talking about
you released your wrist from his grip to pull him by the shirt, your lips right back on his but with hunger buzzing through. that was enough for jasonâs eyes to slightly widen from the sudden but he quickly kissed you back, his hand that was holding your wrist now sliding to your waist and lips moving in sync with yours
you take back what you said, this wasnât a mistake-- and you definitely understood why your body reacted the way it did in nanda parbat
a sharp exhale was heard from him, feeling your other hand slide to the back of his neck and burying your fingers in his hair, nudging him deeper into the kiss. you pushed yourself off the wall, the hand that was curled in his shirt now deliberately sliding down slowly until you felt his toned abs under the fabric
and that made jason moan a âfuckâ, breaking the kiss and immediately carrying you. you wrap your legs around his waist, giving him one messy kiss, then another, and another. and he didnât dare to pull his lips apart from yours, even when he was taking you to his bedroom, even when he lay you out on the bed and roaming his hands anywhere on you
there were only two times he pulled away from your lips. one was to quickly pull off his shirt that you were helping him with, tossing it aside and leaving his toned figure in view before going right back to your lips. and the other time when he trailed down to your neck, hearing soft sounds come out from you as a response
it was ironic how the same mouth that would always spit sharp and venomous words was now letting out the softest and most heavenly sounds jason has ever heardÂ
soon, both his and your clothes would join his shirt on the floor, moans of jasonâs name leaving your lips as youâd feel his trail of messy hickeys trail in the middle of your boobs. his hips would be grinding in the mattress, heavy pants landing on your skin that did nothing but arouse you even more
jason pulled his lips from your body with a string of saliva connecting his bottom lip to your chest before breaking immediately. and those beautiful swollen lips of his let out broken pants that were like a melody to your ears, hickeys of your own all over his neck and collarbone. he looked so delicious, it should be illegal
and you were no exceptionâ under his body with your hair pooled all over his pillow with dazed out eyes and red, swollen lips of your own that made jason want to kiss them bruised all over again
and he did. âjesus, you taste--" another kiss mixed with a groan. ââso goodââ his hands trailed from your waist to your thighs, spreading them open to nest in between. ââso so fucking goodâ
you couldnât respond, feeling dizzy from his touch. and even if you did, heâd swallow your words.Â
jason parted his lips from yours, giving you a lustful gaze before slowly bringing himself down and trailing his lips to a sensitive spot on your hips, making your breath hitch and grip his hair. âjasonâ you whispered to yourself like a plea, and that made him groan under you
âsay it again, babyâ the pet name rolled out of his busy lips with ease. âwanna hear my name from those pretty lipsâ jason planted a kiss in your inner thigh, eyes locked on you and that made you whisper his name in a broken voice of desperation. âjasonâ
wow, did that make his cock harder than it already was. and like the man he was, he leaned forward with a groan to dip back into those same lips that were blessing him with those beautiful sounds. âyouâre so beautiful like thisâ jason moaned, his hands now lifting your legs and settling himself in between them till his hips met with your thighs
you let out a moan, feeling the leaking tip of his hard cock already rubbing on the slick entrance of your pussyâthat motion was all it took for you to know that he was big. jason didnât even go in yet, and he was already moaning, pulling away from the kiss to catch his breath but not distancing himself from you, foreheads on one another
red hood, one of gothamâs infamous vigilantes, was now helplessly head over heels and surrendering himself to you, one of the worldâs most deadly assassins. two people who have fought to the death and faced each other on opposite sides, now drunk from their bodies and warmth.
and god, you or jason couldnât get enough
âbreatheâ he whispered, eyes not leaving yours even when he was already lining up his cock with your pussy. while one hand was stretched out to his back, the other went to cup his face, your thumb wiping the sweat from his temple with a dazed look that said it allâ âi trust you.âÂ
youâve always trusted jason, despite your differences. your history with one another made you know more about the man than any other foe knew. and youâd never admit, but youâd trust this man with your lifeâ which was pretty ironic considering that you and him were pointing your weapons at one another a few days ago
but every thought youâve ever had of jasonâ good or badâ left the moment you felt the stretch of his cock in your pussy. he wasnât just big, he was big big. and the tightness of your walls sent jason to a euphoric state. a moan from you and jason left at the same time, your hand beginning to claw his back with eyes slightly widened but nevertheless, still fixated on those green eyes that only had eyes for you
âbreatheâ he murmured, giving you a small, gentle kissâ compared to all the other ones both of you sharedâ as reassurance. âtakinâ me so wellâ his lips trailed to the crook of your neck, specifically on a hickey he left you.
and as he slowly pushed more of his length in you, a broken moan of your name left his lips, squeezing his eyes shut and trying so hard to control himself from full-on pounding his entire thrust in your pussy at once
you let out an inaudible whisper, making jason pick up his head and lean closer to hear you. âwhat was that?â
ââŠmoreâ you whispered again, but with a whine. and who was jason to say no? especially when your pussy was taking him so well and molding your walls around his size
soon, he was balls deep in you and jason felt like he was going to lose itâ feeling your walls repeatedly flutter around his cock due to his size was making him hold back a pathetic moan. fuck, he needed to move now. if he didnât, heâd cum quickly
with one slow but deep thrust, jason began to move. and that let out a loud moan from you, face contoured in a expression youâd only see from those x rated films. âjasonâjason, fuckââ you panted out, only to be cut off with another thrust from jason and another moan of your own, knocking your head back to the pillows till your lips pressed on the tip of jasonâs nose
âshitâ he groaned, continuing with his thrusts. jason didnât even need to pick up the pace because the depth of his thrusts was hitting each spot in a way youâve never felt. and you didnât want him to stop
the sounds were lewdâ loud, wet skin slaps being on par with the noises both you and jason were letting out
his free hand gently yet firmly held your face by your cheeks to pull you into another kiss, the messiest and sloppiest one yet, all tongue and saliva. the vibrations of your muffled sounds made his cock twitch in you and the slow roll of his hips slowly picked up the pace
jason felt a breathless whine from your lips and your nails clawing your back, hips picking up the pace in a way that made you break the kiss to catch your breath, lips seared with yours and jasonâs saliva as your half-lidded eyes met his
what a sight, what a feelingâ all from you
âtightâ he moaned. âfuckâ canât get enough of this pussyâ he was babbling at this point to match the increase in pace that his hips were delivering to you. truth be told, he canât get enough from you
you already felt your orgasm slowly building up in your stomach, but you were too focused on jasonâs tip repeatedly hit the deepest spots in your pussy. you wanted to tell him that you were close, that youâve never had sex like this in your life, that your body has never felt worshipped before. but whenever youâd open your mouth, either nothing would come out or soft sounds would leave instead. and as for warning him about your orgasm, your soft walls were already one step aheadâ pulsing in the kind of way that made jason close as well
âim so closeâ he panted, letting go of your face to hold both your thighs and burying his face in the crook of your neck, hearing his sounds right next to your ear. âfuck i- shitâ poor man couldnât even get the words out of his mouth due to how pussydrunk he was
he gulped, his pace getting erratic and cock twitching like crazy. âwanna cum in youâ jason moaned. âplease babyââ he gulped. wanna feel her c-clench around me when she cums.â and he didnât need to tell you twice. you just frantically nodded with gaped lips, giving him the confirmation he needed
you let out a moan of his name, feeling your orgasm coming out and feeling his thrusts get stickier and wetter. you brought his body closer, chest against yours with your back arched as gasps and dazed chants of jasonâs name left your lips.Â
your orgasm felt so good around jason's cock that he bottomed out and came next, a groan leaving his lips with one last but deep thrust before his cum came pouring in you, fluids mixing together and leaving a white ring.
you bit his shoulder with a whine, feeling him fill you up so deep that your pussy started twitching from the aftermath of the sex. and that let out a groan from jason, slowly pulling his face from the corner of your neckâ which had saliva trails from himâ to meet yours
this time, you leaned forward to meet his swollen lips with your own. but it was slow but nevertheless messy, both of you panting from the buzz that was still numbing your bodiesâ a feeling youâd never forget and a feeling heâd crave for more
good thing you two had three days left
Thinking about... FWB!Jason Todd bc you both suck at feelings (tsk)
FWB!Jason who genuinely asks because he's scared you'll reject him and would rather not find out than lose you since the two of you work so well together in his team
FWB!Jason who starts the relationship with you awkwardly, dorkily, making sure you're okay every step of the way, and once he learns your little kinks and quirks? oh boy.
FWB!Jason who has you pressed face first into the mattress, your drool staining the pillows as you gasp and whimper, fluttering around him. You'd both learned he does better when he can't see your face.
FWB!Jason who has you wondering if it's because he doesn't like your face (it isn't. it's because if he looks at you too long while having sex, he's going to accidentally blurt out that he loves you and ruin everything)
FWB!Jason who eventually starts acting like your... boyfriend? Flowers on your table in the morning, worrying over miniscule wounds during patrol, you name it, he's fussing over it
FWB!Jason who breaks it to you one day while looking at you while fucking, a pained "fuck, I love you so much" slipping past his lips before he can register what he just said to you.
FWB!Jason who PANICS.
"Jay, Jay, dearest." Your hand wraps around his forearm, squeezing as he refuses to meet your eye.
He meets you with silence.
"Jay, I love you too." You laugh, and he stares at you with panicked eyes.
"It's just the sex speaking. There's no wayâ"
"Jason. Did you say you love me because of the sex?"
Jason stops, heart hammering in his chest. He'd get laughed at to hell by his brothers if they saw how disheveled he was right now over accidentally confessing to you.
"No." He mumbles, and you cup his face as you press a kiss to his lips.
"Then neither am I. Was this too much? Do you want to call it for the day?"
Jason shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your forehead gently as he moves again.
"Fuck," He whispers, pushing back into you slowly as he savors the feeling of you around him. He bites back moans in order to listen to the way your breath hitches so beautifully. So gorgeous. You're so gorgeous.
He can't believe he had to wait so long to bother confessing to you. If he knew you'd felt the same he would've done it forever ago. He gasps as you clench around him, pulling you up to press his lips to yours.
God, your lips feel divine against his. He melts against you as he just holds you there for a moment to make out with you, tongue pressed against yours as he bites at your bottom lip, groaning when you whimper, trying to shift your hips for some kind of friction.
"Jason." You pull back from his kissing, tilting your head back as he bites at your neck. "move."
He does.
You see stars, nails digging into his back as you struggle to hold on, whole body tense as he thrusts into you with each groan, and your heart hammers in your chest. You wonder if Jason can hear how badly your heart is hammering. Well, either way, you can barely think straight with the way he hammers into you. You wonder if you've just unlocked a primal instinct in him when you had told him you loved him too.
Silly man.
You spill over first, heart hammering in your chest as he comes soon after, collapsing over you on the mattress as you groan.
"Jay, get off of me."
"Rejected." He mumbles. "This is mandatory post-sex skin to skin."
"Since when?"
"Since now."
And, well. You don't find it in yourself to complain. Not when you know Jason will take care to carry you over to shower later.
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He's hovered over you, his deep green eyes fluttering closed as the head of his cock tentatively brushes along your slick folds. The slow drag is torturous, this drawn-out tension that's got you on edge, but he freezes up, too wrapped in his own doubts. Panic twists in his gut. This already feels too fucking good, way too intense for someone like him who's barely dipped a toe into this.
"Come on... âs okay baby. You can put it in," you gently urge, your voice a raw whisper of desperation, but his thoughts are a whirlwind, second-guessing every move. He jerks his head side to side, refusing.
âCanât yetâŠâ his face buries into the curve of your neck, a soft whimper escaping as he nudges the tip against your opening. It teases right at the edge, slipping in just a fraction and your walls instantly squeeze and gush around it, but he pulls back every time.
A frustrated whimper escapes you. "Jay, why are you holding back so hard?" Your fingers slide up the smooth expanse of his bare back, nails slightly scratching the scarred skin. He quakes at the touch, leaning into it like a lifeline.
"I can't... fuck, ohmygod..." he stammers as your hands soothe him, making his throbbing cock twitch against you. Hot tears start splashing onto your skin, right at the collarbone. "Don't wanna screw this up and hurt you. I'm not... I don't even know if I can do it right."
"What'd really hurt is you stopping yourself from feeling good âcause youâre scared," you soothe, tugging him down until his weight settles against you, arms looping around his neck in a firm hold. "You know I love you, Jay."
Your soft encouragement shatters his fragile control, sending him tumbling over the brink. His cock twitches wildly, barely notched at your opening, as thick, erratic spurts of cum erupt from himâcoating your cunt in sticky warmth, some dribbling inside just a fraction. He gasps, body jerking in clumsy spasms, face burning with shame as the pathetic reality hits: he's spilled everywhere without even getting started, like some fumbling kid who couldn't hold it together. Humiliation floods him, cheeks flaming red, a choked sob bubbling up because he feels so small, so utterly inadequate in this vulnerable strip-down of himself.
"Oh shitâsorry, fuckâ"
You silence him with a gentle press of lips to his, palms framing his flushed face, thumbs sweeping away the tear tracks streaking his cheeks. "No, donât be sorry. âCan always try again, hm?â
''Wanna hear a joke?''
''I guess''
''Me and you are in the car,who's driving?''
''who?''
''THE POLICE!''
feat. hijabi!reader x Muslim!Jason Todd
w.c: 1k
â¶âMasterlist
Itâs cold enough that the city sounds different.
Gotham always hums, always breathes, but tonight itâs quieterâsnow muting the streets, frost clinging to fire escapes, the sky low and pale like itâs holding its breath. You can feel the chill even through the apartment windows, creeping in soft and insistent.
Jason feels it too.
âThatâs not warm enough,â he mutters for the third time, standing behind you in the bedroom as you fasten your coat.
You smile at your reflection. âItâs fine.â
âItâs Gotham,â he counters. âAnd itâs December. Thatâs a personal attack.â
You laugh softly, reaching for your hijab on the dresser. Youâd already chosen oneâdeep burgundy, soft wool, neatly folded. Warm. Practical. Pretty.
Jason watches you pick it up, eyes flicking from the fabric to your face, something fond and unreadable settling in his chest.
âYou sure you donât want the thicker one?â he asks, trying again.
You turn to look at him. âJay,this goes around my head.â
He sighs, defeated but smiling. âOkay. Okay. Iâll shut up.â
You step closer, close enough to feel the heat of him, and tilt your head. âYouâre sweet when you worry.â
He huffs. âDonât spread that around. Iâve got a reputation.â
You turn back to the mirror and begin wrapping your hijabâslow, practiced movements, fingers sure and graceful. Jason leans against the doorframe, watching like itâs the most fascinating thing in the world. He always does.
Itâs not that he doesnât know how it worksâheâs watched you do it hundreds of times. Itâs that he loves the ritual of it. The care. The way you take your time. The way your expression softens, settles into something calm and self-possessed.
âYou look beautiful,â he says quietly.
You smile, pin the fabric in place, and reach for your gloves. âYou say that every time.â
âYeah,â he replies. âBecause every time itâs true.â
When he turns back toward the closet, you notice it.
The scarf.
Itâs wrapped loosely around his neck, thick knit, worn-in at the edgesâand the same deep burgundy as your hijab.
You pause.
Then you grin.
âJason.â
He freezes. Slowly turns around. âWhat?â
You point. âYour scarf.â
He glances down like he hasnât noticed it before, then back up at you, already suspicious. âWhat about it?â
âIt matches my hijab.â
A beat.
Then another.
He clears his throat. âCoincidence.â
You arch a brow. âReally.â
âAbsolutely.â
You step closer, fingers brushing the scarf, thumb and forefinger pinching the fabric lightly. âBecause Iâm pretty sure this is the one I bought you last winter.â
ââŠMaybe.â
âAnd Iâm pretty sure it was navy blue.â
He exhales through his nose, caught. âOkay, yeah. I switched it.â
Your smile softens, something warm blooming in your chest. âYou did that on purpose.â
Jason shrugs, suddenly very interested in the floor. âDidnât think it was a big deal.â
âYou color-coordinated with me.â
He looks up then, eyes warm and a little shy. âYou look good. I like matching you.â
Your heart does a small, traitorous flip.
You reach up, straighten the scarf where itâs slipped. âYouâre ridiculous.â
âMarried,â he corrects. âThereâs a difference.â
Before you can respond, his hands liftâhesitant, careful.
âHey,â he says softly. âCan I?â
You nod immediately. âYeah.â
Jason steps closer, movements slow, reverent. He adjusts the edge of your hijab where itâs shifted near your cheek, thumb brushing the fabric with practiced gentleness. He tucks it just right, making sure it frames your face the way you like, checking that itâs secure without being tight.
His knuckles brush your jaw accidentally.
He stills. âToo much?â
âNo,â you whisper. âItâs perfect.â
He exhales, relieved, then smilesâa real one, soft and crooked. âGood.â
He steps back, looks you over like heâs committing you to memory. Coat buttoned. Gloves on. Hijab neat and warm.
âOkay,â he says. âNow youâre ready.â
You laugh. âYou act like youâre sending me out into a blizzard.â
âGotham is a blizzard,â he replies. âJust with crime.â
The city hits you both the moment you step outsideâcold air sharp in your lungs, snow crunching under your boots. Jasonâs hand finds yours immediately, big and warm, fingers lacing together like second nature.
You tuck closer to his side as you walk, his arm coming around your shoulders without thinking. He angles his body slightly, blocking the worst of the wind, scarf brushing your hijab where you lean into him.
âYou cold?â he asks.
âA little.â
He pulls you closer. âThatâs fixable.â
You walk like that for a while, sharing warmth, the city glowing around you. Storefront lights reflect off the snow. Somewhere nearby, someoneâs laughing. Gotham feelsâif not peacefulâthen at least gentle.
You stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the light. Jason shifts beside you, adjusting his scarf, then pauses.
ââŠHold on.â
Before you can ask what heâs doing, his hands lift again, carefully reaching for the edge of your hijab near your temple. The windâs loosened it just a bit.
He tucks it back into place with the same care he uses to clean a gun or tend a woundâprecise, respectful, intimate.
âThere,â he murmurs. âDidnât want it slipping.â
Your throat tightens.
âThank you,â you say quietly.
He shrugs, but his ears are pink. âThatâs my job.â
âFixing my hijab?â
âTaking care of my wife,â he says simply.
The light changes. You cross the street together, your steps in sync.
You reach across the table, squeeze his hand. âMe too.â
When you leave, the cold feels less biting. Or maybe itâs just that youâre wrapped in himâhis arm around you, his scarf brushing your hijab, the two of you moving through the city like you belong together.
Because you do.
Married. Matched. Warm.
And Jason Todd, former menace, current husband, adjusts his scarf to make sure it still matches yoursâjust in case.
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A/N: FOR MY BOOOOOO @desertwhisperer