shhh!

greenish-grey eyes flicked upwards to meet yours, and the man echoed your name. it sounded heavy on his tongue-- but not with angst; with care. "i'm back already," he grinned, wooden floorboards creaking with age as he stepped closer to the check-out where you remained.

a smile bloomed across your face. "missed me that much?" you questioned, teasing. "it's barely been a week."

jason shrugged noncommittally, hands raising playfully in surrender, though his freckled cheeks tinged a faint shade of red. "y'know you can't keep me away,"

the sound of your laughter combined, and floated its way to the ceiling of your bookstore. it clung to the wooden beams spanning the roof; seeping into the oak, willing itself into the history of the building.

when the laughter died down, you jutted your chin to the side-- motioning the back of your store. "a new shipment of second-hand books just arrived from metropolis; you know where to find 'em,"

jason saluted, "aye, aye captain," before making his way towards his desired items. the man would be kept occupied for a good little while with the boxes upon boxes of books you hadn't bothered to sort through yet; and you smiled quietly to yourself.

it was easy to recall the first time you had met jason; even easier to lose track of when your friendship had blurred into this slow, thumping heart-beat of comfort and familiarity. he came in at the beginning of each week, would purchase a handful of books, and would return the following week to do the same thing. after a few repeated cycles of this, you and him had begun to chit-chat beyond his payments-- and just like that, you had become acquainted with the large, handsome man.

beyond that, though, you didn't know much about him. as his fingers would dust across yours at the register, your eyes would linger on the collection of scars littered across his skin; but you never pushed. you understood that, while you looked forward to jason's arrival at your store like clock-work, the privacy of his life remained his.

the affairs he found himself tangled within outside of the haven you offered to gothamites alike was none of your business; all you could hope was that jason remained safe in whatever trials he thrust himself into.

especially now-- that thought crossed your mind as he approached a mere ten minutes later, with four books in his hands. dropping them on the counter-top, his cheeks dimpled. "i'm shocked i was able to pick only four, that new shipment is loaded with good shit."

you grinned, totaling the sticker-prices of the books into your register. "the four book only policy doesn't apply to you," you whispered, leaning forward ever so slightly, "take as many as you'd like." the scent of his cologne-- something earthy and inviting-- floated its way into your nose. you shivered.

jason's eyes widened softly, a dark eyebrow arching upwards. "willing to bend the rules just for me? i'm flattered," glancing towards jason's face, you wished for nothing more than to burn the image of his grin into your memory permanently.

"yeah, well," your eyes rolled, fingers typing away at your cash register, "you're a returning customer-- and i'm not worried you'll resell my shit for a lower price."

the sound of jason's laugh sounded nothing short of mesmerizing. "shouldn't judge a book by its cover," he said easily, "i'll put you out of business."

it was your turn to laugh softly as you reached beneath the front-desk, grabbing a re-usable bag for jason's books. the man took out his wallet, and dropped a twenty and a ten on the counter. "please," you scoffed, handing him his books, "the only way you'll put me out of business is by buying all of my fuckin' stock."

"that's right," jason agreed, nodding. black wisps of hair fell into his eyes, and he ran a sturdy hand through his locks. "i'll be back before you know it, pretty."

✩✩✩

night howled against the windows of your book-store, and the silence of after-hours was terribly loud. your keys jangled and clanked against your hip as you made your rounds-- making sure all the doors and windows were secured and locked. up and down each aisle you traversed, the smell of homey paper sticking to your skin as if the library was trying to fuse itself to you.

all the books were where they were supposed to be, and every possible place someone could break into was reinforced properly. you sighed, fingers clutching tightly onto the fabric of your leather coat. despite the familiarity and warmth your shop offered during the day-- there was something uncomfortable about it once night fell onto the city of gotham.

chuckling to yourself, you recalled the previous owner of the building nervously mentioning ghosts living within the walls.

how childish, you thought to yourself, unlocking the register to empty its contents, who believes in ghosts anyways? certainly not me--

a loud series of bangs on the back entrance of your store rattled the entire building, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood in urgency.

you remained in place silently, and in shock, for a few moments; save for a small lamp near the front desk, the rest of the lights in your bookstore were off-- who on earth wanted to be let into a seemingly closed bookstore?

when the banging continued, almost growing desperate, you had closed your eyes-- "fuck," you muttered, reaching into a cabinet within the front desk that held a baseball bat.

(living in gotham, you could have never been too careful.)

it took a few falsely-confident steps to make it to the back of your store, and the metal door that was the entrance from the alley-way at its behind. you swallowed, the pounding of someone's fist unrelenting against the cool metal. you considered yelling, alerting the potential threat to your prescence, but figured you'd lose the upper-hand-- so without much thought, you swung open the door, raising the baseball-bat as if to attack the perpetrator-- until exactly who it was startled you.

"red hood?" you gaped, fingers clutching tightly onto the bat as the vigilante's mask glimmered a cherry red underneath the subtle lighting of the moon. you were no stranger to gotham's silent heros; especially not as someone running a small-business that happened to remain open about an hour past dusk. seeing one in-person, much less face-to-face, was daunting; especially since you knew-- or at least, had heard-- what this one was capable of. shit, you thought idly, did he see me j-walk last night?

red hood raised his hands; or, well, one hand-- the other remained glued to his side, and upon further inspection, he seemed to be leaning heavily to the opposite side of his injury. when he spoke, his helmet had muffled his voice-- and the voice changer you assumed he had implemented, crackled and popped. if he had said anything else-- you were certain you would not have been able to distinguish it underneath the fuzz of his helmet's voice changer-- but you immediately recognized that the man was saying your name.

something ran down your spine, and your face contorted into a mixture of fear and confusion. "what the fuck?" you frowned, fingers itching at the wood of your baseball bat.

you soon realized, however, how useless the weapon was-- red hood pushed past you, barely brushing your figure, and into your book-store. you yelped in surprise, twisting your body to watch the vigilante as he traced, without error (as if he was familiar with the store layout), your bathroom. while you couldn't see him from where you stood anymore, you were able to watch light spill onto the wooden floor of your store-- a harsh, fluorescent glow lighting up the small bathroom.

exhaling deeply through your nose, you entered your store again and closed the back entrance to the door tightly-- locking the deadbolts, preventing anyone from entering or exiting. "hey!" you called out hurriedly, making your way towards where red hood was, "i'd appreciate it if you would tell me what the fuck you're doing in my book-store,"

red hood, very clearly, had made himself comfortable in the bathroom; his own jacket had been discarded and sat messily on the floor, and his black compression shirt was pulled up to just underneath his left pec-- a nasty wound, most likely from a knife, seeped blood onto his pants and onto the tiles of the bathroom floor. you heard the man hiss as he pressed a wad of damp paper-towel to the injury, and you cringed away harshly.

"fuck," you winced, a phantom pain shooting directly into the side of your mid-section.

red blurred your vision softly as red hood turned his head towards you. "do you have a first-aid kit?"

without answering, you moved into the tiny bathroom-- opening a cabinet on the wall to pull out exactly what he was looking for. you placed it onto the small counter-top, and popped it open; red hood immediately reaching for thread and a needle.

"hey," you stopped him, grabbing onto his gloved wrist, "there's a walk-in clinic right down the road-- i can drive you there, it'll take like five seconds--"

"no," red hood answered almost immediately, gently tearing his hand from your grip to continue rifling through your first-aid kit.

"no?" you questioned, eyebrows raising. "what do you mean no? you're bleeding out--"

"i'll be fine." he answered shortly, bringing a spool of thread to his mouth to tear a long string with his teeth. "and i came here for a reason," his voice changer crackled as he spoke.

confusion etched its way deeper onto your face. "what?"

red hood sighed, and the glimmer of his mask caught your eye as his head turned towards you; his stare was harsh, despite the fact that you couldn't even see his face. "you were the closest person i could come to," he answered awkwardly, one hand still holding the paper-towel to his wound, "closest person i know."

you opened your mouth to speak, simply baffled by what he meant; but his next actions stole the words right from your throat.

with his free hand, he dropped the medical supplies onto the counter-top, before gripping his helmet and tearing it off of his head; his vision remained glued to the floor as he shook his hair out, recognizable black locks falling onto his forehead.

"jason?" you gaped. "holy shit," you practically laughed-- because what were the odds the person you had seen less than seven hours ago was one of gotham's most well-known vigilantes. the humour in the situation, though, died out quickly-- as you watched his irises examine his wound closer now, slight panic arising in both of your throats.

moving without a second thought, your palms found jason's biceps, leading him to sit on the counter-top. "sit. let me do it," you said quickly, gesturing to the thread and needle.

jason gave a long exhale, resting his body-weight against the counter with little refusal; "you don't need to do this," he argued weakly.

you rolled your eyes, gently prying the paper-towels from his wound; luckily, with some of the blood cleaned up, was less serious than you had first assumed. "i want to."

"you didn't want to before i took the helmet off," jason laughed softly. the movement made him wince.

"that was because i assumed i didn't know you," you murmurred, tongue-sticking out of the corner of your mouth in deep concentration, "i couldn't have been responsible should anything have happened to a stranger. but now that i do know you, why not put the first-aid course i took four years ago to the test?"

though you didn't bother looking up, you could practically feel jason's face scrunching up. "so i'm your guinea pig?"

you offered the slightest of nods.

"i'm fucked."

"hey," you protested, "i patched up a kid with a scraped knee like last week. you're in great hands,"

"not quite the same thing as a minor stab wound, but still reassuring, i guess,"

jason felt you poke into a non-injured section of his torso gently with the needle, only to laugh. something spurred to life within your ribs.

✩✩✩

after about ten minutes of stitching, you finally finished-- tying off the last suture, your fingertips grazed his abdomen. they lingered, as if his body was pulling you in-- like something couldn't keep you from stepping away. jason's breath hitched.

you cleared you throat, reeling your hands back towards your body, remaining medical supplies tossed haphazardly onto the counter. "sorry," you breathed.

jason's hands brushed over the newly bandaged wound, examining carefully, before greenish-grey irises met yours in the small cracked mirror of your tiny bathroom. "don't be." he said simply, holding your gaze.

you had so many questions. they were burning at your throat, clawing at your tongue-- fighting you, willing themselves to be released. but the longer your eyes stayed trained on each-other's within the shitty little mirror, the less they wanted to escape.

it was odd; you had had this idea of jason, in the back of your mind-- every-time he stepped through your bookstore's doors, you wondered what kind of life he led. perhaps he was a teacher, or maybe a fire-fighter, you had day-dreamed once; he seemed like the kind of man that knew the real grit that covered every surface within gotham, and he seemed like the kind of man who wanted to erase it all. you had been right, in a way; because wasn't that what red hood stood for? nonetheless, the vigilante's identity had made your fingers quiver against his skin as you tended to his wound, and you knew jason was pointedly ignoring the tremor in your palms as you patched him up. you considered the fact that, he too, most likely knew it wasn't from who the version of himself he had hidden from you, but rather the one you thought you knew all too well.

the silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable. no, it was charged. the air between the two of you practically vibrated with what was once fear, now morphed into understanding, anxiousness; a yearning of sorts. it wasn't quite fear, but it was not quite relief either. now you had seen jason for what he truly was, and that was a scary thing to have admitted on both of your ends. you swallowed, eyes tracing downwards on jason's form in the mirror-- down the bridge of his nose, down to his lips (where they lingered for longer than what you wanted), and down to his jaw. examining him so closely, you could see the way his pulse jumped in his throat.

your reflection looked back at you—wide-eyed, flushed, and unsteady. naked, in some sort of sense. jason’s gaze dropped from the mirror to you, slow and deliberate, and you realized with a start that he wasn’t the only one feeling bare.

"why did you come here?" you asked, words so quiet on your lips you were certain jason had not heard you. when he answered, something spiked lowly in your gut.

"i told you," jason whispered back, "you were the closest person i trust."

"you trust me?"

"more than i'd like to admit." jason dragged a calloused hand through his hair. a nervous tick. "do you trust me?"

"yes." the answer was immediate, and the lack of hesitation made the corner of jason's eyes crinkle with the slightest hint of amusement.

the sound of his laugh sent sparks up your spine. "you shouldn't."

tilting your head to look at him, one of your eyebrows arched upwards. "you haven't shot me or anything yet, so i think i'm okay,"

jason laughed again. the sound was low, from the back of his throat. shamefully, your cunt throbbed. "you never know,"

"right," you agreed, "i think i'll take that risk."

jason watched your eyes flicker down to his lips, and took that as a sign-- crashing his mouth onto yours, he kissed you like his life depended on it.

there was nothing sweet about it, nothing gentle; nothing like the man jason was when he let his guard down around you, nothing like the man you thought you knew. his hands fumbled clumsily along your body, as if he didn't know what to do with them, until one of them cupped the back of your head and the other found your hip. using his strength, he kept you glued to his body; crooking your head to the side, you deepened the kiss.

jason groaned into your mouth once he felt your tongue drag against the fat of his bottom lip. he opened wider to allow you access into his mouth, and you grinned. it was messy-- spit dribbled down both of your faces, and your fingers had found themselves at jason's scalp-- pulling, tugging, willing him as close to you as he could get. the sounds of your breathing, laboured, shallow-- coupled with the wet noises coming from your kissing was obscene, and it echoed within the tiny bathroom of yours.

you began to suck on jason's tongue, and another pretty noise fell from his throat. using his hips, he shoved you backwards and onto the edge of the counter-top-- your ass digging into it's end. you whined, once you understood what he doing; jason used one of his knees to separate your legs, before he shoved his thigh right between your own.

the heat of your cunt, even through your jeans, was embarrassing. having jason's leg pushed up against your pussy, barely moving, barely giving you what you wanted-- he broke the kiss, voice raw and lips plump. "'s this okay?" he asked.

to his surprise, you laughed. "if it wasn't, i would have slapped you like.. five minutes ago,"

the man shrugged, bringing one of his hands to the side of your cheek-- his thumb idly playing with your bottom lip. "i was just making sure," he swallowed, "i didn't know if you wanted this."

"i mean," you started, eyes locking on the way his thumb lingered near the entrance of your mouth, "i would have preferred it if it didn't happen because you were stabbed."

jason nodded, corners of his mouth lifting upwards in the ghost of a smile, although there was little humor in his voice as he spoke, "me too."

"yeah?" you asked, voice teasing.

jason's voice was not teasing. "yeah."

something in your gut swirled, and you couldn't help but grind your hips-- your aching cunt-- down onto jason's thigh. he hummed, content at your action, finally shoving his thumb past your lips and into your mouth. he felt your tongue swirl around the pad of his thumb, lazily sucking as if you just needed something inside of your mouth.

when he spoke again, jason's voice had gone impossibly low. "i've always thought you were so gorgeous," jason began, "always thought you were way too pretty and too smart to be running a cute lil' shop like this, in this fuckin' city,"

without much thought, you nodded at his words-- the feeling of the seam of your jeans rubbing against his flexed thigh and knee, and onto your clit, far too intoxicating.

"i've been wanting to ask you out for forever, but every-time, i chickened out," he confessed, pushing his thumb deeper into your mouth, "that's it baby, grind that pussy onto my leg-- jus' like that,"

the sweetness of his confession combined with the filth of his praise made you moan around his digit-- hips quickening along his leg.

"i've thought about taking you out, maybe to see a nice lil' movie. maybe then-- oh, i know, feel's good, huh?-- maybe then we'd get dinner, there's a real nice place near china town i think you'd like,"

jason's words were becoming mush within your mind; nonetheless, they spurred you on, your clit pulsing and pussy sopping beneath the fabric of your ruined jeans and panties.

"then," he started, leaning forward to pepper kisses along your jaw, leading all the way to the shell of your ear, "then i'd take you home, and i'd make love to you so good, you'd never be able to fuck anyone else."

you moaned whorishly at his words, spit dribbling down your chin as his thigh brushed against your cunt again and again and again-- pleasure becoming all-consuming, and lust fogging every rational thought in your mind. "jason," you gasped out, words muffled by the man's thumb still in your mouth, "please." you begged.

"please what, sweetheart?" he questioned, pulling his finger from your mouth to let you speak, "tell me what you want."

all that consumed your mind was jason-- so that's exactly what you said. "you," you exasperated, fingers digging into his shoulders, "please i need you."

"mm," the sound of jason humming vibrated against your skin, his lips searing marks down your throat all the way to your collarbone. "keep begging, pretty girl. maybe then i'll give you what you want,"

grinding your cunt back and forth on his leg, your eyes welled up with tears of frustration; god, you needed him so badly. "jay," it fell from your lips in a gasp as jason began sucking harshly on your pulse-point, "please. please, anything you give me i- i'll take it, your fingers, your mouth, your dick--"

"m'giving you my thigh to grind on right now," you felt him smile against your skin, "isn't that enough?"

"more," you practically sobbed, other incoherent words flying from your throat at an embarrassing rate. back and forth and back again, humping jason's leg like a dog in heat. "please, jason."

pulling off of your neck with a pop, jason's lips glistened with saliva; the way he ran his tongue against the plump fat of his bottom lip, you'd think he was still able to taste you. "alright," he conceded finally, hooking two fingers into the waistband of your jeans to shrug them down your hips. when they had fallen to the floor, the man wasted no time in holding you tightly by the waist and propping you up onto the counter-top. the granite was cold against your bare bottom; you shivered.

before you could question what he was going to do next, jason sunk to his knees. it was tender, the way he studied the ruined fabric of your panties-- now on display right in front of his face. soft irises flicked upwards to meet yours, and your cunt throbbed with need. "please." jason paid your final plea no mind, lips connected to the plush of your thighs with a mission.

he kissed and he sucked and his bit-- teeth sinking into your leg just enough to make you moan, but not enough to hurt. darting his tongue outwards to soothe the blooming mark along your skin, he'd brush forward-- closer to your pussy-- to leave another violent hickey.

you began to squirm on the counter-top; hips involuntarily bucking towards jason's face-- seeking out any pleasure you could find. it was pathetic-- and if you hadn't been so drunk on fore-play, perhaps you would have cared about being so desperate in front of the man you liked. but the way your pussy was leaking down onto the granite, and the way your nipples had stiffened despite no attention being allotted to either of them-- you didn't give a fuck.

"patience," jason murmured, sucking deeply on your left thigh.

"i don't have much of it left."

at your snarky remark, jason's teeth bit into you-- the tiniest bit harder than his previous nips. you yelped, and he smiled against your skin.

opening your mouth to say something-- maybe beg, maybe cry, maybe snap-- jason cut you off when he reached two large hands forwards to grasp the edges of your panties. you face scrunched up, as if to say why not just pull them to the side? before a loud rip bounced off the walls of your bathroom.

within jason's hands-- the remains of your panties looked measley and useless; torn into two, jason tossed them onto the floor haphazardly.

"hey!" you gasped.

jason shrugged. "what? did you want me to keep them on you? not give you what you want?"

your face flushed, heat crawling up your neck. "well no,"

"exactly." jason leaned forward, lips pursing, and blew a cold gust of air onto your clit.

you couldn't fight the loud whine that escaped you at his actions, and jason's laugh rumbled deeply; his eyes danced upwards to your face again, and he made no effort to break the eye-contact as he pressed his mouth to your cunt.

the man licked a long stripe, flattening his tongue along your folds, slowly from your hole to your clit. you moaned, back arching away from the counter. 'jason!" you cried, fists clenching at the edge of the counter-top as he repeated his actions at a faster pace.

he moaned in response, reveling in the taste of you on his tongue, before his lips latched onto your clit. he sucked and sucked and sucked-- the sensation maddening. "i know," he cooed against your pussy, "you taste as good as you feel, baby,"

his tongue was unrelenting against your cunt-- jason lapping at your slick like a starved man. when he tilted his head downwards to lick and prod at your entrance-- the bridge of his nose brushed against your clit, and your hips stuttered along his face. "oh, jay," you moaned, body running hot at his actions.

jason's hands left your hips momentarily, reaching closer to your thighs-- only to hike them along his shoulders and back, inadvertently driving your cunt closer to his face. at the newfound angle, you both moaned in sync.

"god--" your breath hitched, "deeper, jason, c'mon,"

jason wasted no time in listening to your orders-- sticking his tongue past your sopping hole to tongue-fuck you with vigor. in and out and in again, his tongue practically curled and massaged your insides.

the man only pulled back for a second, to spit onto your aching cunt, before diving right back in. his tongue flattened against your folds again, his hands finding your hips. "this feel good, baby?" he asked.

you nodded, sweat beading at your temple.

jason's movements ceased, though his tongue remained connected to your pussy. "then fuck yourself on my tongue-- make yourself feel good, sweetheart,"

jason did not have to tell you twice-- your hips immediately began rocking along the man's appendage, the friction causing your lower stomach to coil with pressure.

you were, shamefully, lifting yourself off of the counter to grind against the vigilante's face now-- your own contorted and washed over by a myriad of pleasure and ecstasy. "jay," you moaned loudly, "please, i wanna cum,"

at your confession, jason's movements restarted again-- this time, with a renewed sense of purpose. he moaned into your cunt, vibrations only adding to the ever-growing sensation of your orgasm within your lower belly. "yeah?" he asked, voice muffled by your pussy.

"m-mhm!"

two of jason's fingers poked at your hole as his mouth re-attached to your clit-- and sunk in with ease. "shit, baby," he peeled himself off of you to mumble, "so fuckin' soaked for me-- this pussy's squeezing my fingers so good,"

you nodded, before your head lolled backwards as jason began sucking on your clit, his fingers curling and uncurling against your g-spot rapidly. there was no rhythm, no pattern; just jason chasing your orgasm as if it was his own.

the sound of your pussy squelching around his fingers was nothing short of obscene; your bathroom mirror was fogging up, and you hips tilted to meet the thrusts of jason's hand within you. greenish-grey irises blinked upwards to meet your own, and the intimacy your eye-contact sent you over the edge.

"jason," you gasped, jaw going slack, "m'cumming,"

jason smiled against your pussy, tongue and fingers working in tandem to keep you riding the high of your orgasm-- even as it dripped down his wrist and his chin.

your cunt pulsed and throbbed and squeezed like there was no tomorrow-- hips stuttering and shaking along jason's face, legs wrapping around his head in an effort to shut.

"i know," he praised, voice warm and low, dripping with arousal, as he continued to drag out your orgasm. "bet you feel so good, this wet fuckin' pussy painting my face," he whispered, delivering a final lick to your cunt, looong and slow, before he pulled away. "don't you, pretty?"

you nodded, chest heaving greatly. the aftershocks of your orgasm rocked your core, sending shivers from the tip of your spine all the way to your toes.

you couldn't remember the last time a man made you cum that hard. you can't remember the last time you made yourself cum that hard.

"well," he said, standing, "imagine how good my dick will feel."

you whined softly, bracing your hands along jason's chest when he finally stood in-between your legs. leaning forward, you connected your lips. the taste of your cunt on his lips was intoxicating.

lazily, jason kissed you back-- your tongues hadn't hesitated to be stuck down each other's throats, and your nails dragged down jason's torso. only when your fingertips met the bandages you had put on his wound earlier, did you stop.

"oh," you said lightly, "maybe we shouldn't; i don't want you to get even more hurt--"

jason cut you off with a roll of his eyes, his lips dancing across the bottom half of your face with ease. "baby," he mumbled between kisses, "a little cut won't stop me from makin' you feel good,"

"a little cut?" you laughed, slightly in shock. "you were stabbed."

"and? i'm a grown man, i can handle it."

his palms found your waist again, picking you up only to lower you onto the floor. when your feet met the tiles of the bathroom, he spun you around so you were facing the mirror. "don't come crawlin' back to me when your stitches are fucked, then, 'cause i won't redo them."

jason chuckled against your neck, his breath warm as you heard his belt buckle come un-done. "liar," he whispered. something flipped within your core. "we both know that if it'll end with me paying this," he reached a hand forward and around, to give your bare cunt several taps, "pretty pussy any attention, you won't say shit."

...

you hated that he was right. especially now knowing he could give you an orgasm that made you see god.

you rolled your eyes, your silence saying everything you couldn't. jason laughed again, before reaching into his boxers to pull out his throbbing cock.

"you made me so hard," he whispered along the shell of your ear. "see?"

his question, though, was not meant for you to literally see-- no, at his words, jason pressed his aching dick to your cunt, grinding his length along your folds at an infuriatingly slow pace.

you moaned. couldn't help it-- not at the sensation of every vein, every ridge, every bump along his cock skating over your pussy. "yeah," you nodded, bottom lip getting caught in between your teeth, "put it in me."

jason stilled for a moment at your words, before one of his hands flew from you hip and to the back of your neck-- pressing you firmly onto the counter-top. your torso was flush to the granite, and jason successfully had you bent. "i thought we established that you could beg better than that," his voice was low. serious. "with some manners."

shame flooded your system-- but the sensation of your pussy practically drooling onto jason's cock was far too enamouring for you to ignore. "please," you exhaled, "please, baby, put your cock in me-- i need it so badly,"

"that's better," jason hummed, beginning to grind his tip against your clit again. the sound of a low moan from the back of his throat fell onto your ears, and instinctively, you arched backwards and into the man.

"jay, please," you sobbed. jason's hand had travelled from the back of your neck to your head-- keeping you pressed securely to the counter-top. your irises met his, and your entire body tingled with need.

"please what? say what you want." he mocked, hips slowing as he continued to grind against your weeping pussy.

"please--!" you were growing desperate beyond coherent words. "please, jason, please just fuck me."

in the mirror, you watched jason grin. his cheeks dimpled and your stomach flipped. "atta girl," he lined himself up with your hole with ease, before slooowly pressing into you.

you both moaned as his cock began to fill you out-- inch by inch, the further he moved within your pussy, the more you both became drunk on one another.

your jaw had gone slack against the counter, cheek pressed to the cool surface by jason's sturdy hand as he finally bottomed out inside of you. his balls gently rocked against your clit, and he held you there-- unmoving, save for the occasional twitch of his cock.

"holy shit," he breathed out your name heavily, voice coated in a seductive euphoria. "you feel-- god, you feel like you were made for me,"

you whined at his words, arousal dripping onto his length crudely as the visceral need for jason to move enveloped you. "mhm," you hummed dumbly, "made for this fat fuckin' cock,"

the man moaned at your words, hips finally beginning to pace against your ass. it was steady, after a few thrusts-- his cock stretching your pussy out.

"yes," you cried, hands bracing the edge of the counter-top as his tip began to abuse your g-spot. "feels s'good, jay,"

"oh, i know, princess," he gasped, each plap, plap, plap! of his hips meeting your ass becoming more obscene than the last. your cunt pulsed as it surrounded his cock, sucking him in-- holding him, keeping you both impossibly close.

jason grunted and moaned loudly, in tandem with your cries of pleasure, and it spurred you on. without thinking, you began to back yourself up onto him-- meeting each thrust with a bounce of your ass on his cock.

to your surprise, jason's hand snaked its way between your throat and the counter, choking gently, before he yanked you upwards. his thrusts didn't stop-- in fact, his pace only quickened, cock moving in and out and in again at a brutal pace. "no," he said sharply, forcing your jaw upwards to make you look at him through the mirror's reflection, "let me do it. let me fuck you how i want, how you deserve to be fucked,"

your pussy was dripping-- soaking jason's cock as you observed in the mirror (through clouded, tear filled eyes), as he fucked you.

"see?" he questioned, grasp tightening ever so slightly around your throat, "such a good girl when you let me fuck you like this-- when you watch yourself take this cock,"

"yes, jay," you moaned, hands still gripping the counter. every single syllable that fell from his mouth went straight to your pussy, which fluttered whorishly around jason's dick as if it was the only thing it needed.

you had said other things, too; you babbled mindlessly as his dick drove in and out of you, punishing your aching and needy pussy. your feet kicked upwards as jason pushed your hips along the counter's edge, the weight of his hips slamming into your ass keeping you folded.

"haah," he moaned, grinding his cock impossibly deeper into your cunt. "shoulda done this sooner," he said, "shoulda stuffed this pretty little pussy so deep such a long time ago, i've been needin' it so bad,"

his words went straight to your cunt, and it squelched loudly around him in response. wordlessly, you were begging for more.

"oh, what's that? you been-- shiit-- needing it too, sweet girl?" he questioned, cock pistoning your pussy passionately.

"yes--! yes, yesyesyes, i needed this so badly," you agree, far too cock-drunk on the man to say anything else. your toes and fingertips tingled, pleasure bleeding into every sensation you had.

"now you've got it, s'okay, i'll take-- fuck-- i'll take care of you," jason tried his best, really, to keep his sentences together-- but the way your cunt was strangling his cock was starting to get the better of him.

his thrusts grew erratic-- out of time, sloppy-- as he bit down onto your shoulder, eyes still on yours in the mirror.

"i'm goin' to cum," you announced, his teeth sinking into your body only spurring on your second orgasm of the night. "i-- oh god, jason, i'm not going to be able to hold it--"

"then don't," he breathed out, his hand leaving your throat to travel to your clothed chest. despite the fabric of your shirt, jason still groped and molded your tits; he moaned into your neck, giving your right breast a hearty squeeze. "cum all over this fuckin' cock, baby,"

at his words, you obeyed. the corners of your vision went spotty as you head tilted backwards onto jason's shoulder-- your orgasm causing your entire body to twitch. your legs vibrated, and cunt spasmed along jason's dick-- to which you felt him throb inside of you in response.

"c-can i fill you up? inside?" he asked suddenly, thrusts impossibly random as he chased his own orgasm.

you were nodding your head before you could even think about it-- your pussy still beating intensely at his actions, clit pulsating and dripping with need. "holy shit-- yeah, jay, cum inside me,"

jason groaned again-- teeth biting into your shoulder and remaining there as he started to cum. hot, thick ropes, spurting into your pussy-- being stuffed deeper and deeper and deeper with every half-thrust that followed. the moans of the man seeped into your skin, jason drooling all over your body as he continued to pump himself deep inside of your womb.

the sensation of his cock inside you quickly became overstimulating-- but there wasn't anything you could do except moan as jason continued to fuck into you. "jay--!"

"fuck-- i know, sweet girl, i just-- haah-- just let me milk every last drop," and you were certain, as well, that jason was becoming overwhelmed in your pussy as well; hisses followed his moans now, and only when hot tears streamed down your cheeks, did jason pull out. you fell forward and onto the counter-top, the cold surface a harsh contrast to the heat that radiated off of both of your bodies in waves.

jason's body bent in half as he copied you-- except his chest was flush to your back. sweat dripped from his hairline and temple, and you felt a sloppy, warm kiss being pressed to the nape of your neck.

"mm," he hummed, eyes fluttering shut.

you mirrored him, the fluorescent lighting of your bookstore’s bathroom suddenly far too harsh against everything you were feeling. “jason?”

he grunted in response, the sound low and amused at the croak in your voice.

“if you liked me, you could’ve just said so,” you muttered. “no need to get yourself stabbed over it.”

his laughter vibrated softly against your skin. “you think I got stabbed because I couldn’t figure out how to confess to you?”

“the last book you bought from me was Romeo and Juliet,” you reminded him.

that earned a louder laugh, though he offered no defense. the sound was warm, almost boyish — and for a moment, it made you forget the blood still drying on his ribs; made you forget that his cum was seeping out of you.

“hey,” he murmured after a pause, “at least I didn’t die for it. been there, done that. wouldn’t recommend.”

you frowned, half-confused, half-concerned — but before you could ask, he leaned in, the smell of gunpowder and cologne and something entirely him pressing close.

“Thus with a kiss…” he whispered against your forehead, his lips ghosting over your skin, “I will not die again.”

for a heartbeat, neither of you moved. the line hung between you — tragic words rewritten into something fragile and defiant, something that belonged to him. to you.

and as his breath lingered against your temple, you realized there was far more to jason todd than the man who haunted your bookstore shelves. there was a story still being written — and somehow, you’d just found yourself in the middle of it.

PLUVOiA 25’ ® - masterlist

loren's thots: heyyy... how yall doing......... lmfao sorry this took a minute the universe threw an evil evil situationship at me w a man whos 6 ( S I X !!) whole yrs older than me.... god i love older men...... anyways its been consuming my mind and uh anything to do w sex has made me terribly emotional as a result but I POWERED THRU for yall i hope u like it.. n ya ik it wasnt the next one planned for kinktober no i didnt skip the eve and kyle pieces i js wanted to write for someone that i think yall would eat upppp so.. i love u all and omg freakin talk to me? omg cobwebs in my inbox damnnnn....

loren's tags--!

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“hiromi,” your breath catches. just the raw, skin-to-skin contact is making arousal pool in your underwear, thighs squeezing together on instinct. 

“let me eat you out,” he whispers, breath fanning against your ear and making your stomach flutter. “please.”

“but you must be so tired, baby. don’t worry about me, you should rest,” you tell him, though your body gives away your desires, automatically leaning into his touch. “you’ve had a long day.”

“so have you,” he mumbles into your skin. “let me take care of you.”

every nerve in your body is screaming at you to just take his offer and indulge yourself for one night. 

your husband turns you to face him. he leans in closer. now, you can smell the faint scent of his cologne mingling with sweat on his skin. it’s musky and heavy and so so him. his eyes flick down to your lips and he presses his against yours. the kiss is tender and full of all the love you hold for one another but never have the time to say. his taste is familiar; reminds you of home. 

as he tangles his tongue with yours, he starts to gently push you towards the bed behind you. he breaks the kiss, a strand of saliva connecting his lips to yours, and rests his hands on your shoulders. you sit on the edge of the bed and shuffle backwards, leaning against the mess of pillows at the head of the mattress, elbows planted by your sides. 

you clench together to try and provide some semblance of friction between your legs, where your clit is aching with need. slowly, higuruma crawls towards you. he parts your legs and you let yourself get lost in the warmth of his touch, his rough hands running across the burning hot skin of your inner thighs. a soft exhale escapes his lips when his gaze falls upon the damp spot that has begun to spread across your cotton underwear. you suddenly feel exposed, sitting here in nothing but your bra and panties, whilst he’s fully dressed and looking up at you with glassy, pleading eyes. 

he leans his head against the inside of your plush flesh, and you extend a hand to cup his face. the ebony haired man in front of you nuzzles into your palm as you stroke your thumb across his cheek. hiromi begins to kiss the inside of your hand, sending chills scampering down your spine, and never once breaking eye contact with you. 

“please,” he pulls away slightly and his voice cracks with hunger. “let me make you feel good. you deserve it.” 

higuruma shifts his body to be face to face with your clothed, yet still drenched, pussy. 

“i don’t want to burden you, hiromi—”

you’re cut off by him pressing his nose into the fabric and inhaling deeply. “you’re never a burden,” he kisses your core. “i can relieve your stress for you. i want to help you out.” his worship of your body as if it were a temple makes butterflies swarm within you.

you nod lightly, any sense of resolve dissipating in an instant. “okay.”

hiromi wastes no time in peeling the sticky fabric away from you, tossing them to the ground and revealing your drooling cunt. it’s almost embarrassing, the way you're already dripping so much for him, slick oozing out of your hole after all he’s done is talk to you sweetly.

your husband swallows thickly. “sit on my face,” his voice drops down an octave and your stomach lurches. 

obediently, you follow his command. whilst he rolls over on to his back, you position yourself over him, straddling his face. it’s obscene how soaked you are—you think you can literally feel a drop of wetness drip down your inner leg—from the way your husband is gazing up at you right now. his eyes are half-lidded, jaw slightly agape as he breathes heavily, eager to taste you. who would have thought that a few weeks of abstinence would leave you so desperate to be touched?

“sit.” hiromi’s voice is husky and deep and he wraps his hands around your thighs, pulling you down on to his face. 

you can feel his breath flutter against your heat as you sink down on him. he presses a gentle kiss against you, then kitten licks at your clit, and your body tenses up in anticipation. instinctively, your hips buck down to chase his mouth. 

higuruma laughs, low and sultry. the vibrations reverberate throughout your body and make you shudder. 

“so eager.”

before you have time to scold him, he licks a strip up from your candied entrance to your throbbing clit, tongue flat against your folds. a strangled cry escapes your throat, the noise guttural and raw. it’s been so long since you’d had time alone with him, even the most mundane of acts feels almost overstimulating. 

hiromi’s eyes flutter closed as he moans into you, lapping up your juices like a man starved. 

“mmh,” he groans. “missed your taste.”

his words fly straight to your pussy; your hole quivers around nothing. your hands find the headboard in front of you and, when he glides between your folds, you grip it so tightly your knuckles start to turn white. his warm, wet tongue traces patterns into your clit, and the bliss is so overwhelming that you can’t help but whiiiine his name out. he’s slurping and gulping all of you and the sounds coming from the two of you are nothing if not filthy. 

and just when you thought it couldn't get any better, he plunges his tongue into you. in this position, his nose is pressing up against your clit, providing a mind-numbing pleasure that ripples over your body in electrifying waves. 

“fuuuuck, hiromi,” you mewl. “feels so—hah—good.”

you’re grinding down into his face now, velvety walls clenching around him with every push of his nose against you. his hands guide your hips as you fuck his mouth, legs trembling above him. 

“keep going, baby,” he grunts. “use me.” 

higuruma pumps his tongue in and out, curling it inside, nose relentlessly rubbing up and down your clit as he moves his head to match the pace of your hips. your mouth hangs open in pure ecstasy. helpless pleas tumble from your lips as he coaxes an orgasm out of you. 

“h-hiromi, ngh, so close,” you whimper. 

any other day, he would have taken the time to edge you until your brain turned to mush. today, however, he takes pity on his poor, overworked wife, and decides to let you take what you need from him. 

“you’ve worked so hard, baby,” he rasps, letting up his ministrations temporarily to praise you. “you deserve to cum, right?” 

“mhm,” your eyes are screwed shut in complete ecstasy as you thrust onto his face oh-so-desperately. “s-so close, i can’t hold out—”

your dewy slick is coating his nose, leaking down the sides of his mouth and his chin and higuruma is utterly drunk on your smell, your taste, on you. you fervently rock your hips, chasing your high with nothing in your brain other than hiromi, hiromi, hiromi. 

he withdraws his tongue from inside of you and drives it against your sticky silk, incessantly swirling around your clit. then he sucks, and you gush on his mouth. 

“shit—fuck—hiromi, ‘m cumming—”

your thighs clamp around his head, hard, and you cry out. the pleasure overtakes your body in full force, euphoria coursing through your veins and clouding your vision. the man underneath you continues to lick you through your orgasm, your muscles convulsing uncontrollably. to hiromi, the sight is exquisite: you, writhing above him, moaning his name out so deliciously. it’s almost enough to make him cum in his pants. 

and when you come down from your high, body slumping next to him, he just pulls you close to him, nestling your bodies together.

“thank you,” you whisper, fatigue spreading throughout your body. “i needed that. i love you.”

“i’ll do anything for you,” he kisses the top of your head. “always.”

masterlist

© PLUVOiA 2026

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